Wreckers: A Denver Boyd Novel by George Ellis (ebook reader ink .TXT) 📕

the chair by the door. I finished re-wrapping the sling on my injured shoulder as she spoke.

“There’s something I don’t understand about them,” she said. “Actually, just one of them.”

I was behind my small desk, having been in the middle of reading an old-fashioned book about fishing. I’d never been fishing and likely never would, but the idea of it fascinated me. It was a completely different human experience, to be alone on a river at dawn, waist deep in water, trying to hook a fish. Being surrounded by life and sound, smells and colors.

Space was nothing like that.

I took a sip of coffee, and had absolutely no idea where the conversation was going.

“Okay…” I prompted.

“Well, I’m kind of a focused person. You probably noticed that about me. I’ve spent most of my life thinking about engineering, physics, thermodynamics. Things like that. So there wasn’t much time for diversion. I don’t pay attention to current events or entertainment, really, other than some gaming when I need to take my mind off complex navigational processes. I just don’t find what passes for entertainment to be very entertaining.”

“I see. And I guess the Stang’s TV and film options were the first time you’ve seen anything like those?”

“Correct. I’ve worked my way through a variety of movies over the past few days. For the most part, they’re more interesting than anything currently being streamed, but they’re also predictable, insofar as I can understand the dynamics of life and human relationships in the 20th and 21st centuries.”

“It does take some getting used to,” I noted. “I imagine you were born out here?”

She ignored the question and circled back to what she wanted to talk about. “You’re used to it though, having seen most of the ship’s catalog. Which brings me back to The Avengers.”

I listened as she delved into her problem with the movie, but my thoughts strayed. She had said two things that piqued my interest: physics and complex navigational theories. If those were her areas of expertise, it may provide some insight into what was on the Rox that was drawing so much interest.

“Captain Boyd? What do you think?”

I snapped back to the conversation and realized I hadn’t really heard the last sentence or two. Romy gave an annoyed look and repeated her question for me.

“I don’t understand whether Bruce Banner can or can’t control the Hulk. On the aircraft carrier, he mutates and loses control, but at the end of the movie, he says he’s always the Hulk. Do the comics or other movies in the canon explain this?”

On the one hand, sure, that aspect of the movie had always bothered me. But on the other hand, seriously? This woman doesn’t talk to anyone on the ship for days, and when she finally does want to have a conversation, it’s about a green superhero from ancient movies?

“I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but I believe that’s what people used to call a plot hole,” I answered.

“Plot hole. Meaning?”

“Meaning, uh, it doesn’t really make sense in the story.”

“Why would they have plot holes in their movies?”

“I don’t think they were on purpose. They were mistakes,” I explained.

“That’s frustrating,” she said, seemingly upset. Well, maybe annoyed was a better word. I still wasn’t sure if Romy was capable of anger.

“I agree,” I said. “Now can I ask you something?”

She was still mulling the Banner-Hulk conundrum, but she nodded.

“You’ve kept to yourself since you stepped on board. Why was that plot hole so important that you had to ask me about it?”

“I didn’t know it was a plot hole at the time.”

“Of course. But still, why ask me about it?”

She stood up and moved to the door. “That’s easy. I hate problems that can’t be solved. They give me insomnia,” she said. “Now that I know it was just a dumb mistake, I don’t need to discuss it any further.”

“Well if you change your mind, ask Gary. He’ll have plenty of opinions on the matter.”

“He complains too much,” she replied.

“If you want to hear him really complain, tell him you think the Hulk could beat Superman in a fight.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because it’s fun to annoy him,” I said.

“That sounds sadistic.”

“Oh, it totally is,” I joked.

She didn’t find it funny.

“What I mean is, it’s just a dumb theoretical argument, but it would make Gary upset,” I tried to explain. “It can be fun to needle people once in a while.”

Romy studied me for a moment.

“I see. Like if I told you that I thought Batista could beat you in a fight,” she said, apparently attempting humor.

“No, that’s just a fact.”

“Oh.”

She then walked out without saying another word.

I sat there a few seconds, processing the weirdness of what just happened. Of all the topics I thought we’d discuss, the Hulk conundrum wasn’t at the top of my list. I also asked myself a question: what kind of unsolvable problem does a physics and navigation genius get so twisted about, that she has to solve? It could be the key to what was on the Rox.

* * *

“I’m unclear on how this is any of your business,” Edgar said, chewing another candy bar. He sat in the chair in his quarters, staring at the monitor. He was watching Predator, a film I’d seen a few times before. It was the scene when Dutch covered himself in mud to avoid detection.

“You know why they made the alien so ugly?” Edgar asked.

“Because he’s the bad guy.”

“Sure, that’s part of that. But there are plenty of good-looking bad guys in movies and TV, from what I’ve seen so far. But the aliens are always ugly, as Dutch here said. It’s because we’re meant to fear what’s different. What’s grotesque.”

“I don’t think you’re grotesque,” I said, catching his drift.

“Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t. I watched that Goonies movie, so I can’t help but think you were taking a veiled shot at me with the Sloth character.”

I had to hand it to the guy – he was