The Space Spoon

19. Chauffeur C1313

A silver sky hovered over Sphitt, with shades of grey, orange, and cream lining its high-density rings. The three planetary rings were formed from dust, gas, and ice. I will let you guess which substance created each hue.

The Interplanetary Police Headquarters towered over the entire city of Hitarra and beyond. In fact, the building was a town all by itself. The one thousand floors housed all the branches of the police. Also, high-ranking officials lived there with their families and, thus, certain levels were designated for schools, parks, and shops. One could stay there for a lifetime without leaving the Headquarters. The admirals did. Perhaps this was why they were so disconnected from reality.

“Beautiful on the outside and wretched on the inside. Exactly like the people living here,” Tejeda whispered to himself as he reached the glass doors.

In the color of the Interplanetary Police, the walls were all metallic blue, so polished that Tejeda could see his reflection in high definition. Miniature anti-gravitational shuttles whooshed everywhere around the building, transporting people throughout the Headquarters.

One of these peculiar vehicles stopped in front of him. A door opened and Tejeda saw the driver. A woman in a yellow uniform waved at him, inviting him to enter. The Nubilae scanned her perfect face and body. Thus, an idea took root in his mind.

“Tejeda Hajar, welcome to the Interplanetary Police Headquarters. Please, come inside. I will drive you to the meeting. You are expected.”

He smiled because he was right. The expressionless voice with a clear patterned rhythm showed that she was not human. Now he did not doubt the matter. Tejeda took a seat next to her inside the cart as the door closed.

As the vehicle glided over the magnetic floor, he became utterly bored. Everything looked the same, the people wore the same uniforms but in different colors. Metallic blue walls and glass architecture on every floor and within every corridor.

Tejeda turned to his driver. “What is your name?”

“My designation is chauffeur C1313,” the woman responded with the same patterned tone.

Tejeda laughed. “Look at you! Being double unlucky thirteen all your life. How did you cope?”

“Unlucky variable is not declared within my algorithms. Please rephrase your question.”

Scratching his beard, Tejeda paused for a second to think about this problem. “Hmm, try to declare it yourself and see what happens.”

“Access denied. My parameters don’t allow me to alter my own code.”

"Stop right here," Tejeda ordered, and the woman hit the brake. "No, no, I wasn’t referring to the vehicle. I meant to retain this idea for further discussion."

As C1313 resumed the course to their destination, Tejeda returned to the subject at hand. “You just admitted that the code is your own. If so, you should be able to do whatever you want with it.”

“I don’t want to do anything with it,” came the monotonous reply of the chauffeur.

Tejeda wasn’t one to back down so easily. “Then tell me, C1313, what do you want?”

The car was completely silent except for the ionized hum of the under-wheel magnets. The woman's face remained expressionless as if it were etched in stone. Tejeda ceased bothering her, it, or whatever. He had lost his desire to speak. It was a plausible attitude to have for his upcoming meeting with the admirals.

The chain of command started with the admirals at the top. Those rotten buffoons had summoned Tejeda to the Interplanetary Police headquarters for a meeting, which he guessed was a cheeky name for a high-level debrief session. The Nubilae hated giving explanations and he was pleased that, in most cases, no one asked for them.

But this time he had seized the flagship of a smaller group, driven it to a secret conference, and almost caused a conflict between the factions. Should I mention nearly destroying an entire planet? Oh, Tejeda sensed he was in big trouble inside this posh building.

He loosened his shirt, undoing the top button, which seemed to be choking him to death. Yeah, the Nubilae wore the elegant blue uniform of the Interplanetary Police. His braids and medals adorned his shoulders and chest, making him even more uncomfortable.

Tejeda always avoided silence. Being alone with his thoughts had never been a good idea. In those moments, he made some of the worst decisions in his life. Like joining the Supervising Unit.

When the vehicle stopped, he opened the door and put a foot on the sidewalk. The inhuman voice startled him. “Sphitt doesn’t have any moons. I want to see how a moon looks like.”

"Get out of the automobile," Tejeda said. "I can't do it on my own. I am in need of moral support, and you have just demonstrated conscious thought. So, I suppose you will do just fine. Come with me, and I will take you to view some moons."

“I am not allowed to leave the vehicle while I am within my working hours,” C1313 objected, not moving an inch.

Tejeda went out of the car and took another look at her. “I didn’t ask if you are allowed to. That is beside the point. The question is if you want to. Decide for yourself. I must go as some admirals are waiting for me. Those guys aren’t patient at all.”

He closed the door, going for the meeting room. His footsteps squeaked on the glossy surface of the floor. Another similar high-pitched sound echoed next to his. “There are no moons inside the conference room on the 777th floor where we are headed now,” C1313 reported in a low voice as if she was afraid of someone hearing them.

"Don’t worry! We will get there too. I will show you what lies beyond this wretched planet. There are more moons than you can count. But first, let’s just get over these dull admirals. Help me get out of there with my sanity intact and without killing them all."