The Favor

As Lewis finished dragging the couch to the curb, the phone in his pocket vibrated. He pulled it out, swiped the screen and a blue hologram appeared of a man with shaggy hair wearing a beanie. 

“Bart, what’s the holdup? You said one-thirty.” Lewis said, rubbing his back. "It's ten past."

“Dude, okay, you’ll never believe this. Cyber security shut down the galacticway just outside of Mars. Something about a skimmer chase.” After a few taps on the touch screen, a news article overlayed the hologram. The suspect was one Mac Anderson, last seen in an orange and black sports jersey and sporting a handlebar mustache .

“How long until you make it here?” Lewis snapped.

“Dunno, maybe tomorrow?”

"Tomorrow's too late." Lewis needed this couch gone by ten tonight. 

“Sorry to put you in a jam. See you on the flip.”

“Bart, wait.” But the hologram flickered away. 

What was he going to do? If Seeger didn’t get this couch, it’d be over for Lewis. He kicked the dingy, stain ridden couch, cracking the side wooden panel. A slight blue glow shone through the purple fabric.   

“Howdy neighbor!” 

Lewis looked over and saw Harold headed his way. 

Harold was in his mid-forties, wore a fanny pack, and had hair everywhere except the top of his head.  

“Afternoon Harold.” 

Harold planted his hands on his hips and observed the situation. “Can I lend you a hand moving some furniture?”

“I’m actually trying to… sell it, but my ride bailed on me at the last second. Now I can't get it to the buyer, something about a closed galacticway.” He pocketed his phone.

Harold crossed his arms and nodded. “Yup, heard about it on GCNN. Some hooligan up in Bankfield robbed a convenience station. In broad daylight at that.” He pushed up his glasses. “I say, to heck with the prisons, send him my way, I’ll set him straight.”

Lewis faked a laugh and imagined Harold sitting down a wanted criminal and giving him a stern talking to while wearing hiked up cargo shorts. “I’m sure you would, Harold.” Lewis bent to pick up one end of the couch. He at least needed to get it off the street before something happened to it. 

Harold stopped him. “Why don’t I help you move it?” He pointed to his driveway where a brand new maroon SV-hover truck was parked, still with the temporary license plates.

Lewis began friendly protesting, but Harold would have none of it. 

“If you can’t ask your neighbor for a favor, what good are they for?” Harold said.

Lewis eyed him skeptically. Seeger was already expecting Lewis and Bart to show up with the couch, and he wasn’t too keen on strangers. But what other choice did Lewis have? Either he gave Seeger the couch or he’d have a new custom pair of cement shoes. 

“Alright. It’s not too far away, I promise. It needs to get to Cluster 22-b by tonight.”

Harold pumped his fist in the air, then looked behind him towards his house. “Truth is, I’m being a little selfish. The Mrs. has her book club over.” He nudged Lewis’s arm. “I’m sure you know how that can go.”

“They must have you fetching all sorts of refreshments for them.”

Harold shook his head, “I wish. Those women can’t keep their filthy eyes off me. Can’t say that I blame them.” 

It was hard for Lewis to envision women swooning over Harold's yellow striped polo, knee high socks, and white trainers. “You must be fighting them off with a stick.”

By the time they loaded the couch in the bed of the hover truck, they’d only lost thirty minutes and a small bit of Lewis’ sanity. 

***

Horns from around them sounded, drowning out the hum of the hovercraft's backed up for miles on the galacticway. At this rate, Lewis would be lucky if they made it to the Cluster by midnight. To pass the time, Harold told a story about a friend of a friend, whose cousin once sold a couch, and he thought her and Lewis would make a fine couple. 

The driver behind them honked. Harold shook his fist at the clunky spacecraft, “I’ll tell ya, beings need to learn to calm down.” Another driver honked. 

“Maybe there’s another route?” Lewis punched buttons on the GPS, only for Harold to swat his hands away. 

“Not you too. Did I ever tell you about the time I’d…”

“Look,” Lewis began, then fixed his tone. “It's already been two hours. I don’t know how much longer I can keep Seeger waiting.” His hand absently went to his neck. 

Harold sighed, then tapped the screen of the GPS, highlighting an alternative route. He guided the hover truck onto the shoulder and took the next exit for Cygnus.

Lewis sat back, relieved to be moving again. “Thanks Harold, sorry for getti…”

The truck's navigation system interrupted him, “Hyper drive engaged. Prepare for intergalactic travel.” 

Lewis spotted a billboard that read Sorry to see you go and had a robot waving goodbye. “Harold, Cluster 22-b isn’t in another galaxy.” 

Harold rapidly tapped the GPS trying to cancel their trajectory, but it was too late. Stars turned to streams of light in the windows. The two of them pressed up against their seats from the force, then after a short while, the stars returned to their normal shimmer.

“Welcome to Kelpler 22-b”

“Cluster, not Kelpler.” Lewis swallowed down his frustration and checked his phone, six -thirty. “Turn around. We need to get back.” 

“Not possible.” Harold said, looking at the fuel gauge. “Need to stop at the nearest top up station.” He looked over at Lewis, who was fuming in the passenger seat. “Looks like you could use a stretch, hyper drive isn’t for everyone.”

They pulled into the first station they found. “Wait by the car will ya? This area doesn’t look family friendly.” He tossed Lewis the keys before heading inside.

Lewis paced in between the truck and the pump. If they left now, they would make it back around nine thirty. Still plenty of time. He pulled out his phone and dialed Seeger. It couldn’t hurt to let him know they took a wrong. Seeger being a businessman, would appreciate the communication. 

It rang three times before Seeger picked up. 

“Hey Seeger, just wanted to tell you…” Lewis looked up and saw a man wearing a black and orange sports jersey holding a hand held plasma launcher at him. Something about his handlebar mustache seemed familiar.

“Hand over the keys and no one gets hurt.” Said the man. 

“Don’t I know you?” Lewis said.

The man pushed a button on the side, and a glowing blue liquid flowed through it. “Don’t think so. Keys.”

Lewis reluctantly did as he asked. He snapped his fingers. “You’re that guy from the skimmer chase. Mike… no…” 

“Mac Anderson, Halt.” Harold shouted, arms full of road trip snacks. 

Anderson snatched the keys, got in the truck, and peeled away.

“You just let him take my truck?” Harold said, dropping the refreshments.

“Forget your truck, he took my couch.”

Seeger cleared his throat. His hologram crossed its arms, “You mean my couch.”

“Oh,” Lewis faked a laugh, “Got… you. 

“Hang up.” Harold mouthed.

“See you at ten.” Lewis blurted then ended the call. 

Harold held his head in his hands. “I hope my insurance won’t go up for this.”

Dejected, Lewis resorted to sitting on the dirty concrete. “Fifty million just… poof.”

Harold shook his head, “It was only around two hundred. Got a good deal on it.”

“Not the truck, the couch.” Lewis whined, then laid on his side.

“That Seeger guy paid how much for the couch?” Harold dialed the cyber security number. Hopefully, they could be down here in a few minutes. 

“In the couch.” Lewis pulled himself into a tight ball. 

Harold stood over him. “You’re telling me there’s fifty million credits in that couch?”

Lewis nodded, flicking a cigarette butt. “And now I can’t pay Seeger back the money I owe him. It took me months to scrap all of it together and this was my last chance.”

Harold hung up on the operator. “That is quite the predicament. Any chance Seeger is willing to take payments.”

Lewis just scratched at a piece of darkened gum on the concrete. 

Harold gagged, then dug through his fanny pack and pulled out a small black device. “Thank goodness the salesman insisted on this.” A few moments later, the box beeped steadily. “It's parked off planet at a place called Franks Garage.” Lewis’s head flopped back and forth as Harold shook him. 

“We don’t have a craft.” Lewis said, nauseated from the jostling.

“Leave it to me.” Then Harold went to the other side of the pump. “Official business.”

Lewis shot up as he heard a scream, then an engine roared to life. 

 A beige station wagon whipped around the corner. Harold swung open the passenger door and shouted for him to get in.

They took off, Harold gripped the steering wheel with one hand, the other thumped the dashboard. Lewis stared in disbelief at what just happened. 

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” Harold shouted.

“What’s that?” Lewis’ voice shook.

“Bounty hunting.”

***

Unlike the name suggested, Franks Garage was actually a dive bar built on a rogue asteroid, technically outside of anyone's jurisdiction. 

As they fell into the asteroid's gravitational field, they spotted Harold's truck, the couch still strapped down in the back. They landed right behind the truck, blocking it in.

“We need a plan.” Lewis said, checking the glove box for anything useful. He found a handful of napkins and a thick manual belonging to the craft they stole. 

Harold held up a small can of pepper spray. “Never leave home without it.”

Lewis nodded. “Right, so we go in there, get the keys and take off. Things go south, we flee.”

Harold winced. “Do you have to use that word? It's cowardly.”

Lewis rolled his eyes. “Fine, we evacuate.”

But Harold didn’t like that word either. They continued to argue when glass exploded around them. They turned in their seats to find Anderson had shot through the back window. 

Harold jumped out of the craft, pepper spray at the ready. Lewis opened his door, but was pinned in by the truck. He saw that Anderson was too busy confronting Harold to notice him, so he rolled down the window and crawled into the back of the truck and onto the couch. He planted kisses on it. No matter what, he needed to save the couch. Quietly, he loosened the ratchets.

“I’m going to ask you once. Surrender the keys and yourself.” Harold demanded as he stared down the smoking barrel of the plasma launcher. “One…” he counted. 

Anderson smiled as he pressed the button. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

“Two…” Harold said, less sure of himself. He paused, and on three, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, Anderson was running towards the truck. He started it up, slamming into the station wagon, pushing it out of the way. Lewis crouched down in the bed, clinging to the couch and the manual.

Harold ran after the truck, but it sped away into the air. Lewis banged on the window. He wouldn't survive out in space without a suit. Anderson took his attention off the sky and placed it on Lewis. He pointed the launcher at him. 

Lewis held up the manual in front of him and braced for a shot that never came. He lurched backward, landing on the couch as the truck collided with the cyber security ship. 

Lewis raised his arms in trump, then jumped up and down on the cushions. The added weight caused the tailgate to fling open. He and the couch fell out the back and crash landed on the rocky terrain of the asteroid. 

In Lewis’ daze, he thought Harold looked odd in the ghostly blue light, so did the cyber security officers surrounding him. A shard of wood stuck out from his chest. This was it. Regular guys don’t bounce back from this sort of thing. 

All at once, clarity struck him and he realized the shard was embedded in the manual that he clutched to. The glow, he found out, was from the credits that lay all over the ground. He rolled off the now exploded couch beneath him. 

“Easy now.” Harold soothed. “Do you know where you are?”

Lewis brushed Harold away and the medic android checking his vitals. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

A humanoid android with dark blue plating glided over to them. “Care to explain all these credits?” Its robotic voice unsettling. 

Lewis looked down. It was over. 

“They belong to Mac Anderson.” Harold said. “He stole my truck then when we tracked him down here, there was a couch full of them. My partner here snuck in the back and apprehended him. Isn’t that right Lewis.”

If security thought the credits belonged to Anderson, they'd take them for evidence. “What no…” 

“The fall must’ve injured my partner's head, because he seems to have forgotten all about the bounty on Anderson. Say how much was it again?”

The robot took a moment to calculate. “One hundred-million credits.”

Lewis shrugged. “Just another day in the office.” Harold helped him to his feet. “My partner here tells the truth. Say, where can we get those credits?”

“At the bounty reclamation center.”

***

The brunette behind the desk types at a rapid pace, long nails clacking against the key. A placard on her desk read, Stella. 

 The two men waited eagerly. On the way over, they decided to split the remaining credits equally. 

“Alright, Mr. Lewis, Mr. Harold. For bringing one Mr. Anderson in, you’re looking at a bounty of one hundred.” The total appeared in a green translucence display over the counter. Never had Lewis seen so many zeros.

They nodded in agreement. 

“But…” the woman continued. “Cost of damages, penalty for hunting without a license, emotional damage by vehicular theft, brings your total down to eighty. How would you like that deposited?”

“Mrs. Stella,” Harold leaned on the counter, his head passing through the total, “I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job, but there must be some mistake.” He adjusted his glasses. 

Stella squinted at her computer screen, then pressed a few more keys. “You’re right, minus taxes brings you to a total of fifty-two.” 

“That’s more like it.” Harold smiled. 

Lewis pulled Harold back, “Way to go.” He whispered. 

“It’s our duty as citizens.” Harold said proudly.

“Alright,” Stella said, “an even split?”

“Actually,” Harold said, “fifty to Lewis and two for me. Please and thank you.”

Stella nodded, “Well, aren’t you generous?”

“I thought we were splitting it evenly,” Lewis said, shocked.

“I’ve thought about it and decided it was the least you could do since my truck was destroyed while I was doing you a favor.”

A second later, their phones buzzed, alerting them of their deposit. 

Lewis clenched his fists. “You offered.”

“Look at it this way: you lost nothing, but you’ve gained a tremendous amount of experience. That’s something no amount of credits can buy.” Harold clapped Lewis on the back. “What do you say we get a ride home. It’ll be my treat.”

Lewis kneaded his forehead. “Fine Harold. Just remind me to never ask you for a favor again.”