Night of the Living Trekkies Read Online Free PDF Page B

door behind him.
    This isn’t Afghanistan
, he thought, repeating his personal mantra.
I’m not responsible for any of the trivial bullshit that happens in this stupid hotel. None of it really matters—and amen to that.
    Just then his walkie-talkie chirped for attention. Jim pulled it out and toggled it on.
    “Yeah?” he said.
    “Your sister just called. “The voice belonged to Oscar, the security guard who manned the control booth in the hotel garage. “She’ll be here in five minutes. Her friends reserved a spot in our secured parking area.”
    “Damn it,” Jim said.
    “You’re welcome. You coming?”
    “Right away. Where do I go?”
    “Space K-7.”
    “That’s a bus slot.”
    “Which suggests they’re arriving in a bus. But you’re welcome to drag your sorry ass down here and see for yourself.”
    Jim put away his walkie-talkie. Then, once and for all, he pushed aside any lingering worries about hotel-related problems. He had family to think about. Stuff that really
did
matter.
    It was time to go meet Rayna.

Chapter 3
The Menagerie, Part I

    The hotel’s parking garage contained seven levels, six above ground and one below. The cavernous underground lot accommodated tour buses, luxury motor coaches, and anything else that needed extra space and extra security. At night, a gigantic metal gate descended over the one and only entrance, locking it up tight.
    Jim stood beside K-7, awaiting the arrival of his sister.
    A voice crackled over his walkie-talkie.
    “Here they come,” said Oscar. “Holy shit. You are not going to believe this.”
    “Believe what?” Jim replied.
    Almost before he got the question out, his sister’s ride lumbered around the corner. It was an enormous recreational vehicle—the kind that rock stars use while touring and retirees take to Yellowstone. Only Jim had never seen one like this before. It was painted a shiny, metallic bluish silver. Something resembling a satellite dish sprouted from the grill. Along the entire length of the roofline on both sides ran fat metal tubes with flickering red lights at the front.
    Jim knew exactly what he was looking at: a very costly, very elaborate, very pathetic attempt to turn the RV into the USS
Enterprise
.
    “Houston, we have a freak show,” he muttered dejectedly.
    The RV came to a stop with a hiss of air brakes. The side door cracked open, and out jumped Rayna. She closed the ten feet between them in three excited strides and embraced him. He hugged her back, lifting her petite frame off the floor.
    “You’ve changed,” she said as she stared up at his face. “You look more serious.”
    “You have no idea,” Jim replied. “But you’ve changed, too.”
    “Really? How?”
    “You’re blue. And you have antennae sprouting out of your head.”
    “I’m an Andorian,” Rayna said. “We’re a warlike race from an M-class moon. You can call me by my proper name, Lieutenant Thellina.”
    “Already got your geek on, I see.”
    “You should be congratulating me,” Rayna said. “I’ve just been promoted to helmsman of the USS
Stockard
.”
    “What’s the ‘Stockard’?”
    Rayna pointed to the RV.
    “I see,” Jim said. “Who gave you this rank?”
    The door to the
Stockard
swung open again. Out stepped a tall, thin, twenty-something man wearing a gold jumpsuit with a matching gold jacket. He also had on aviator shades—the big ones that Tom Cruise sported in
Top Gun
.
    “Hey, Lieutenant Hottie,” he called. “Where’d you run off to?”
    Jim watched as Mr. Ray-Bans put his left arm around his sister’s neck. It wasn’t a hug as much as a mock wrestling hold. For a moment he wondered if he was going to give her a noogie.
    “Don’t mess up my antennae,” Rayna pleaded.
    Jim felt his neck and shoulders stiffen. He’d only just met this guy, but he’d already disliked him for years.
    “Matt, this is my brother, Jim,” Rayna said.
    “Matthew Stockard,” he said. “Or rather, for the duration of this