Meiko's Story

Like a train chugging the last few meters of track, Meiko’s dream state staggered into a rude awakening. From the shores of some generic, palm laden, white-sanded island - A liquor filled coconut in hand and a topless native standing by to fan his sweaty feet - to the clinical burn of the stasis bay and the cold sting of reality.
The glass covering of his sleep capsule hissed the last few centimeters, allowing his eyes to adjust to the new light. Shapes began to seep into clarity about him as the bed rose to a vertical stance, making him slide out onto the tiled floor.
“How fucking rude!” mumbled Meiko, as he staggered across the floor like some drunk at three a.m.
“What’s fucking rude, Mr. Dwight?” came the practiced shrill of an all too familiar voice.
Meiko winced to his left as a tall, stick-thin figure paced toward him. Legs swinging like scissors.
Satan in a size zero; Calvin Nero, thought Meiko, as he felt a long, cold hand fall on his shoulder.
“Did you enjoy your sleep, Mr. Dwight?” said the physician through a leering smile.
Meiko could never get over how inhuman this particular human looked. Black ribs of gelled hair clung to his shinning scalp above two crystal blue eyes sunk into sockets that resembled bruised fruit. A nose sharp enough to cut curved over a lipless mouth that seemed fixed in a perpetual grin of disturbing satisfaction.
“Um, sorry,” answered Meiko, “I forgot what the question was. I was too busy rendering a character description in my head.”
“Whatever,” snapped Calvin Nero, “take the medical and sign this. Duty in twelve hours, Dwight.”
Meiko grabbed the clipboard that the physician passed to him and then watched as the tall streak bobbed to his next bleary eyed victim.
Looking down at the form he began to read it’s contents. Before he even got to the section marked, “vomit test,” three words caught his eye: “Anal / scrotal lance.” The memories began poring back like some hideous tsunami of bile.
“Oh, the joys of space flight.” he said to himself as he joined a long cue of nervous, forgetful or disillusioned crewmen at the end of the bay.

Three hours later, Meiko was perched on a blissfully cold slab. As he felt his inflamed anus and burning genitals simmer down he wandered when he would get sight back in his left eye, or when his right index finger nail would grow back.
Why do I do this? He thought as a new physician prepped a torch on a counter across from him.
“What are you going to do with that?” he said as the man approached, “because right now, I have absolutely no empathy for homer sexual activity.”
The doctor smiled humorlessly before saying: “Don’t worry, Mr. Dwight, I’m just checking your retina. It’ll be done in a jiffy.”
When the physician caught the frozen expression on Meiko’s face he added, “Retina, not rectum.”
Meiko sighed and smiled,
“My eye, right.”
As the doctor pulled his bottom eyelid down and stared passed the torch, he asked: “How does it feel to be awake, back in the service of his majesty?”
Meiko took a moment to think about this. So far it had been uncomfortable, disturbing and at times just down right painful.
“Like I wanna leave,” he said finally.
The doctor made a tut tut sound.
“Come now, it’s not all that bad. Once this check is over you’ll be free to continue with your duties plus, one look out the viewing bay and you’ll be as right as rain,” Meiko was about to query this when he added, “which is the same as I can say for your health assessment. The thawing process has refrained from damaging your goods. You’re free to go.”
Meiko smiled, lifted himself off the slab and made his way out of the medical bay. Outside, a wide corridor thronged with the newly awakened and evaluated. There was no one he recognized, then again that was normal.
“Your memory, long and short term, will be the last thing to start working normally,” one doctor with a very long middle finger had pointed out.
Meiko was feeling the sentiments of that now as he made his way down the brightly lit corridor, wishing everyone he walked passed, a happy birthday.
It was just as he was trying to remember what it is he did on board this star ship that a large hand slapped him on the back, making him turn around abruptly.
“How’s my chief stevedore doing this fine afternoon?” beamed a portly man shrouded in enough purple velvet to assure anyone that he was in charge.
“Um…,” began Meiko, before the man slapped him again.
“Good, good,” he said, “mustn’t grumble and all that. Need you an hour early for duty tomorrow. Various things we need to address, this being a new quadrant to our planned charter and all. Put a sign in half way through the original flight plan, they did, which means if we’re not on the double about this it will haul up the entire spiral arm.”
The man stopped and winced at Meiko, “you all right? You look like shit.”
Meiko took another moment to answer
“Fine, I think. Mr.….?”
The portly man burst into laughter and slapped him harder than he had before.
“Its captain, you Burk. And I think I’ll take this opportunity of amnesia to advice you call me Captain God,” the captain let out another laugh and shook his head, “only joking. My wife can call me that tonight. To you, however, it’s Marsdon.”
Then he was gone, flagging down another unsuspecting crewman as he went.
Feeling more than a bit disoriented, Meiko carried on down the corridor, following signs for the canteen; the good old knife and fork in accidence grotesque.
A few meters down, a babble of crewmen clustered around an entrance to his right. Opposite them the wall of the corridor opened up in glass, at which many befuddled and weary crewmen were checking their reflections.
Meiko should have remembered what he looked like. It shouldn’t’t have been a surprise to see a handsome Italian with black wavy hair and a short beard staring back. Just as he was starting to become engrossed by his reflection he noticed what was beyond; Stars. Billions and billions of shining white diamonds amassing in a fat strip that stretched from one side of the viewing bay to the other. And in the foreground an orb glowing greens and blues and sandy reds, tattooed with shifting creams and grays as the weather played out over this beautiful planet’s surface.
“Wow”, he uttered and the sentiments popped out across the corridor like bubble rap as other crew men and women absorbed this startling vista.
A few minutes passed before Meiko’s stomach reminded him of a prior engagement. He tore himself away from the glass, away from the many shuttles trundling back and forth between the new world and the ship, and made his way to the canteen.

Green root, yellow shell and alpha beans roasted on a bed of crumbled Zeiutyoliuratzallts; Meiko’s favorite. Well, that’s what he thought, at least.
Taste was a funny thing when it came to post hyper sleep. The first meal was always the most extraordinary in texture. The experience felt juxtaposed and alien. The soft-warm of food argued terribly with the numb dryness of a tongue that had been asleep longer than was naturally intended.
Meiko grimaced but inclined a relieved expression once he had gotten used to the oddness. It was his favorite food after all.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” came a soft voice from above.
Meiko snapped his head up and smiled through a mouth full.
“Shooa!” Maiko swallowed and repeated, “sure.”
“Thanks,” said the woman, before perching herself on the orange chair opposite him. Her tray was laden with fruit and salad, salad fruit and fruit salad. The leaves of a particular bouquet of healthiness bunched nearest Meiko’s plate rapidly began to wilt.
“Sorry,” said Maiko, sliding his steaming plate of fat and carbohydrate toward himself.
“That’s fine,” smiled the woman, who caught Meiko’s eye for what seemed too long an amount of time to be cordial. Meiko found himself staring back.
She was beautiful. Golden hair that seemed to wave at him, eyes as blue as something very blue indeed, and two pursed strawberries for a mouth.
“I…I’m Meiko,” stammered the chief stevedore, extending a hand across the table.
“Loola,” said the woman after pushing a leaf from the corner of her mouth. The creamy smoothness of her slight hand nestled itself in the rough texture of Meiko’s working palm.
Loola seemed inclined to let her hand stay there whilst gazing across at Meiko. Their eye’s lingered, flitting all over the features of the other person with a quelled hunger, until the moment went too long and they both retracted, embarrassed.
“So…what…uh…what do you do here?” mumbled Meiko, averting his eyes to his knife and fork.
“I’m head mistress of Starway High. Have been for about six years now. How about you?”
“Chief stevedore, apparently.”
Loola laughed.
“You’re having that problem too? I could barely remember my name a few hours ago.”
She laughed again and folded a clump of green into her mouth.
Meiko had become enchanted. This woman was beautiful, obviously smart and, allowing guess work to over rule for just a second, fancied him.
“Where are you from?” asked Meiko with intense interest and feigned nonchalance proportioned well enough to keep him looking cool.
“The kingdom of Wales. How about you?”
“New Italy. Been working on the hauler for nearly ten years now.”
“Wow,” gasped Loola, “just goes to show how big this ship is. All this time and we’ve never met.”
“Ye, it’s crazy,” agreed Meiko, “Say, what are you doing for the next few hours? You fancy taking a tour? Dust off the cobwebs?”
Meiko couldn’t believe how forward he was being. Had he been like this before? Maybe it was because Loola seemed so inviting. so easy to talk to. Meiko felt he had caught a winner and was not about to let her disappear in the bowels of the hauler, never to be seen again.
“That would be lovely,” said Loola, through a beaming smile.
The two of them finished their meals, conversing in light banter as they got up; music and films mainly. As they left the canteen it had progressed to political and religious views and as they passed the viewing bay Loola announced she was an atheist.
“Really? I’m an agnostic.” Said Meiko, distracted slightly by the busy view beyond the glass.
“You mean you haven’t decided, or…?” queried Loola.
“No, I just don’t want to get involved. That’s kind of how I tackle everything. My arse hurts with the amount I sit on the fence”
Loola giggled and flashed an inviting grin.
Meiko flushed red and reciprocated.
“You wanna come to mine for some coffee, or something?” said Meiko, letting his eyelids drop slightly.
“That would be great.” Said Loola, and they both headed straight for the lift at the end of the corridor.
“I think I remember where it is,” said Meiko as his fingers hovered over the floor buttons in the lift. Finally, he decided it was the 54th floor and pressed it, allowing the lift doors to hiss together.
The lift was empty, a fact which both Loola and Meiko were acutely aware. The only noise: the muffled hum of the lift’s hydro-septo-crypto motor jets coming from beyond the re-enforced flexysteel of it’s casing.
They were stood on either side of the interior now, avoiding eye contact and coughing every now and then to punctuate the silence. Then, in perfect synchronisity they caught each other’s gaze and found it was saturated in longing and affection.
Like some bad special effect, Loola and Meiko went from leaning on the wall to locked together, slurping, sucking, groping and rubbing. Meiko couldn’t believe it. She felt so good in his mouth, so moist and lush. The lift binged and the two of them fell out, still pressed together. Still fondling passionately, the couple made their way down the corridor.
To any passers-by they looked like a couple of drunk crewmen practicing for the Morris dancing tournament in time for the folk festival on deck seven. At least, that’s the story Meiko was wildly formulating in his mind as he fished in his pockets for his house keys.
Finally, he found them and, scratching marks near the door handle, franticly tried to locate the keyhole.
“C’mon. Goddamn, I’m hot.” gasped Loola, unhooking the top button of her overalls.
Meiko freed himself from her arm and unlocked the door. No sooner had the door opened than Loola was back limpet-like on his face. They managed to get about a meter into Meiko’s flat when they bumped up against something at knee level. Loola looked down to find a brown leather sofa covered in toys.
For a second Meiko looked confused and embarrassed all at once. Then the sound of running feet came from an attached room and a small boy with mousy hair came running into the living room, his arms stretched wide in greeting.
“Dad, Mum!!” he screamed as he embraced Loola and Meiko together.
Looking around the place the couple noticed plenty of surface space devoted to photos. Pictures of Meiko on his own, Loola and Meiko together or Loola and Meiko with friends and family. Another had the same but with a small baby nestled between them, another, with an older child still.
“How was your hyper sleep?” said the boy, “forget anything this time?”
Meiko looked at Loola who smiled back, a torrent of memory flooding back.
“No,” he said, “we didn’t forget anything.”