Return to Earth
“I’m BAAACK! ...... I’m BAAACK in the saddle again!”
The radio surround sound pulsed in Throttle’s ears as he looked through the dash screen at the growing blue dot in the distance.
“Sounds like there playing that one just for us bros.” He called to Vinny and Modo, who straddled their own chairs on either side of him.
“Yeah!” Vinny crowed. “Aerosmith in the radio and Earth on the horizon! I can’t wait to see the look on Charley girl’s face when I strut into the shop. What do you think she’s cookin’ for dinner?”
Exasperation floated in Throttles voice, “Come on Vincent. We haven’t traveled **** light years so you can flex your pecs and beg Charley-girl for a hot dog.”
“Aaaw.” He muttered, “Killjoy.”
“What do you think Throttle?” Modo butted in. “Will the girls be glad to see us?”
“You know they will, big fella.”
The grey giant sighed, “It sure will be nice to talk to em’ again.”
“Yeah. It sure will.”
Throttle began slowing the engines and waited for one of them to say something else, but the cockpit fell silent again, except for the music still screaming from the radio.
Throttle was perplexed by his bros’ behavior lately. Since they left Mars two days ago, every time someone brought up the girls, Vinnie’s mouth would seize up like an unoiled engine. Not that Throttle would complain about that. Considering Vinnie’s flirtatious history with Charley girl, he could understand being uneasy about suddenly seeing her again. Modo, though, had been acting strangely for months.
Back on Mars, he had spent so much time off on his own, it reminded Throttle of how he had acted after his kid sister died. Then, the day before they were handed the mission, he was suddenly all high spirits and smiles. What ever had snapped the big guy out of his blues, Throttle was grateful, but still worried. Modo’s mood swings had something to do with Roxanne. What ever had happened that last night on earth four years ago Throttle would never ask, and Modo had avoided talking about her ever since. Yet somehow, all of a sudden Modo was fine and could hardly wait to get back to Earth...
As they crossed the line of the dark side of Earth’s moon, into the light, Throttle’s thoughts were cut short by an unfamiliar female voice suddenly interrupting the radio, jamming out the other sounds.
“Attention alien vessel: You have crossed the military perimeter if the free planet Earth. Adjust your course immediately or respond.”
Throttle flipped the communications switch. “Hello Earth. We are one Martian craft, model B47-F Thunderflight, with a crew of three. The station in Chicago is expecting us.”
“Martian craft: suspend course until these orders have been confirmed.”
“Compliant.” Throttle closed their end of the radio to await clearance. Modo was already bringing the ship to a halt.
Vinnie groaned, “Geez. Love this warm welcome!”
“Now Vinnie,” Throttle began, “You know this is U.F.C. standard procedure.”
“Yeah, but don’t they know who we are? I mean come on; we’re the Biker Mice from Mars! We–”
“General Throttle!” Another voice, now male and just a bit frantic, was suddenly in control of the radio, “General Throttle. This is U.F.C. Earth Defense. So sorry for the hostile reception sir.”
... a pause...
“You are THE Throttle from the stories of Chicago correct? And two other officers, they must be your bro’s Modo and Vinnie, yes?”
“Earth Defense, you know who we are?”
A pause...“Sir? ... Everyone knows who you are; everyone in the U.F.C. anyway. It is such an honor to be speaking to you sir.”
“Operator, what is your name?”
“Oh, me? I’m Caspian, communications chief of post Gamma.”
“Well Chief, are we cleared to land?”
“Oh, yes of course. I will alert the base of your arrival. Proceed directly to Quigly Field. Do not uncloak until you are on ground. I will send word to Commander Davidson to meet you there. Do you understand, General Throttle, Sir?”
“Roger that. Thank you base Gamma.”
“Sirs, on behalf of the United Freedom Corporations, it is my privilege to say: welcome back. Base Gamma out.”
Vinnie piped up, “Now that’s more like it.”
Modo and Throttle looked at each other and grinned. Throttle powered up the engines and laid course for Chicago.
. . .
She smiled at the sun, while the cacophony raged around her. On three sides, jack-hammers rattled, huge diesel earth movers thundered and foremen barked instructions to the muscles overhead. The droning noise had invaded weeks ago, yet she had not tired of it’s constant accompaniment. It was the sound of a city alive, thriving and repairing itself after years of decline.
Charline Davidson sighed thoughtfully as she observed some local kids, watching the construction crews assemble the bones of another building down the street. She still remembered too well what the lots had been like only six years ago –full of craters and abandoned buildings. They were dangerous eyesores... perfect hiding places for Limburger’s goons to spy on the boys and take pot-shots at her front door....
Those days were over now. Limburger was long gone, and so were the trio. No Plutarkian would ever dare to take on Chicago again, and only a handful of individuals in the entire city even new about the quashed invasion, or the Martian defenders. Current sightings of mice, other than the terra version, were few and far between. Granted, there were still Plutarkians in other cities, but at least the war was over for this one. She wished the guys could have stayed around to see it free and restored.
Her attention was called back as she noticed a few boys drifting from the crowd, towards her shop. No doubt it was Jesus and Pillar’s friends, coming to see the dozen new bikes that “Miss Charley” was working on. Manwelo had tried many times to apologize for his children interrupting her work, but she would not let him. She enjoyed seeing their eyes shine when they looked at a new bike, and she loved answering questions about their father’s heros, the biker mice from Mars. As the mob approached, little Pillar pushed out in front and burst into a run, with ribbons and pink ruffles bouncing.
“Miss Charley! Miss Charley!”
“Hello ni eta; what brings you here today?”
“Looky! Tengo vestido nuevo! A new dress! And I drew a picture for you! And Jesus wants to show those big kids the new bikes. Papa told him we shouldn’t come again, but I know you don’t mind, do you Miss Charley?”
Charley smiled and patted the six year old’s head while she took stock of the boys coming towards her.
“No, I don’t mind. You and your friends are always welcome to visit me after school.”
All of the boys appeared to be twelve or under. None of them could be considered for recruitment for another three years... at least. Oh well.
“Hello Jesus.” Charley called. “Did you bring me some more motorcycle fans?”
Jesus was ten years old, with more courage and will than any child she had ever met. Fortunately, his mother and father’s wills were stronger, and they directed his energy to productive behaviors. He watched over his little sister like a personal body guard. Other children flocked to him. Even older boys who tried to intimidate him eventually found themselves following his lead. He was a natural leader. Unfortunately, he could hardly wait to be old enough to ride with the “awesome biker dudes” and fight Plutarkians like his papa had. Charley hoped that the war would be over before he had the chance.
“Hello Miss Charley. Yeah, these guys wanted to see the bikes. Is that alright with you?”
Charley scowled over the young men, watching for anyone to betray a bad idea brewing. Seeing none, she smiled.
“Sure thing. Just remember, no touching. I don’t want to spend all day buffing away fingerprints. Understand?”
The boys whooped aloud and dashed to the nearest bike, beginning a gawking procession down the line along the sidewalk.
“And you miss Pillar,” Charley said, scooping the little girl into her arms, “Let’s see that picture you made.”
She carried Pillar into the shade of the garage and set her on the edge of the desk. Charley fell into her work chair and glanced outside at the group of boys as she took the folded piece of paper the child offered.
“Tell me what you drew niñeta.” as she unfolded the paper.
“It’s you and miss Roxanne with the biker mice!” She pointed at the middle of the page, “There’s Mr. Throttle, Mr. Modo, and Mr. Vinnie. We are learning about circles, squares, and ‘fryangles in school, so I made them into the biker mice.”
“That’s ‘TRIangles, niñeta.” She said through giggles. The page was filled by three crayon shapes with stick-figure arms, legs and heads, each with large ears. The yellow square wore something she guessed was sunglasses. The purple triangle had a black line over one eye, and big, red circle had a gray smudge over half of its face. It was the biker mice alright. Squished in at the edge of the paper were two stick figures in green and blue.
“Is that me and Roxy?”
“Uh-huh! You are the pretty green one, and miss Roxanne is the sad one.”
“Oh dear, why is Roxanne sad?”
“She’s always sad, miss Charley. When ever she comes to visit her eyes are always so sad, it makes me sad. Miss Roxanne always tells me to draw things the way I see them, because I see things special, so I did.”
Charley sighed for her friend and smiled at Pillar. “Well, I know what we can do to make her happy. Would you like to help me, niñeta?”
Pillar slipped down from the desk and clapped her hands, “Oh yes! I wanna help!”
Pillar followed Charley to the lockers on the side of the room. Formerly plain, Charley’s locker and the adjacent ones were now wallpapered with Pillar’s artistic exploits. Charley plucked a spare advertising magnet that said “Duralast” from the mural and handed it to Pillar.
Just then, Charley’s cellular phone went off. She glanced at the caller ID, then smashed the silence button on the side and said to Pillar. “Why don’t you put this one on Miss Roxanne’s locker? I’ll answer this call and you hang the picture, OK?”
“Okie-dokie Miss Charley Mam!”
Charley turned and snapped the phone to her ear, “Charley here. Go ahead Alpha.”
“Hey Charley. It’s Cruze in the radio room. Boy, have I got some news for you!”
“What has happened?” She demanded, turning her face to glance at Pillar, who was jumping, trying to hang her picture higher than her little arms could reach.
“Well, I was just sitting down after grabbing some coffee, you know how good Blake’s coffee is, and the switchboard light for Golden Gate was flashing. I didn’t figure it was any big deal you know, just Christine wanting to gab with Jenna again. They are on all the time, jamming up the radio with gossip. So I didn’t figure it was any big deal. I was gonna tell Christine to try again after Jenna’s shift started, but then I thought–”
“Is there a point to all this.” Charley interrupted. Her good mood was quickly waning under his notoriously pointless rambling.
“I was just getting to that (jeeze)! So I answered Golden Gate, but it wasn’t Christine, it was Caspian, and he said– this is just gonna’ make your day Charley! –He said you’ve got some old friends coming into town.”
“I really don’t want to play games with you right now Cruze.” Charley said, reaching over to hold the picture in place while Pillar jumped up with the magnet. “Is McCyber already done in San Francisco and heading back? If that is all you called me for, I could have done without–”
“No! They are coming.”
“They WHO?”
“You know who! The original Biker Mice! They are on their way to Chicago right now. They are making their approach to land here at Alpha!”
“WHAT! Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“I did! But you–”
“Oh, never mind! Have Jenna man the tower and you tell the field chief DON’T TOUCH THEIR BIKES!”
Charley snapped the phone shut and whirled around, catching Pillar and lifting her into the air. “Aaaow! Time to go home niñeta!”
“What’s going on Miss Charley? Is Are the biker mice coming? Do I finally get to meet them?!”
“Some of Miss Charley’s friends just arrived in town and I need go and greet them. Come on, let’s tell your brother.”
Charley ran outside with Pillar racing along behind. “Jesus!”
“What?! What’s the matter miss Charley?” The boy snapped up from over one of the bikes. All the other boys froze, startled at the sound of her voice. “Is it time to fight?”
“Nothing is the matter, but I need you to take Pillar and your friends home for today. I’ve got to close shop for a few hours.”
Jesus did not argue or question: “You heard her guys, go home! I’ll bring you back another day.”
The boys groaned rolled their eyes, but complied. As they turned away, Jesus grabbed one of the bikes and began helping Charley push them all into the garage.
Charley locked up the shop, leaving Jesus and Pillar waving in the driveway, as she sped towards Quigly Field.
--- a later scene ---
Suddenly, a rumble began to grow in the distance, competing with Charley’s words. The mice turned to see what was coming. Danger pricked their senses, and each mouse tensed, ready for an approaching fight. What was it? A machine. No... many machines... earth bikes.
Charley smiled to herself as she watched the three veterans react. So much for filling them in about Roxanne, she would have to face that task herself.
Charley turned and took a few steps towards the sound. “Here she comes now.”
Vinnie let out a “Huh?!” just as the roaring beast cleared the hilltop down the street.
A bike was airborne as it cleared the summit. A black bike, with chrome flashing all over. Light glinted off the rider’s black helmet, and long sun-stained hair was whipping behind it. It came down on it’s back tire, riding the wheelie as other bikes appeared over the crest behind. The bike came down, and throttled up. With a burst of speed that rattled windows, it closed the distance to the garage.
The mice tried to assess the image. Vinnie did not get passed the dark denim hugging the rider’s thighs, but Throttle saw the whole creature.
The bike had a shotgun holstered against the gastank The rider’s black leather jacket was half zipped, revealing a black shirt and human skin beneath a Cheshire visage. It wore dark goggles and a kamikaze grin, white teeth shining in a frame of flaming scarlet lips.
All Modo needed to see were those lips. One glance and he knew who she was.
The bike whipped up the driveway and swerved, sliding to a sideways stop in front of Charley.
She smashed down the kick-stand, cut the engine and froze, helmet pointed at the Martians. Slowly, she pulled the helmet from her head and a fall of hair tumbled around her face. She pulled off her goggles and raked the mess back with a gloved hand as she stood.
Roxanne had arrived.
