Part 5

The Satellite was not looking healthy in the slightest. While normally it glided smoothly along as the engines propelled it on its way, it was currently moving rather spasmodically, almost like a dog on its last legs.

'Appropriate simile,' thought Joel grimly.

He decided to contact them first. If he could reach Mike, he could hopefully give him a few simple instructions to help them get a better handle on things and reduce panic.

He sent a communication signal to the Satellite. He was having a hard time fighting his way through the static, however -- the distortion was so bad it was even beginning to resemble a picture of Martin Van Buren, for reasons Joel couldn't fathom.

He tried adjusting the frequency a little and spoke again. "Anybody out there? What's going on? Come in, Satellite of Love! Do you read?"

No luck. It appeared he was going to have to reduce the distance between him and the Satellite if he wanted to talk to them. He maneuvered the craft so that it was a little closer to the tail end of the Satellite and attempted to contact them again. The flashing red light he picked up ever so briefly, however, forced him to acknowledge that it was a futile effort at this point, since everybody would be in the theater and any further attempts at communication would be halted until the first break.

Time for a different tact. Joel accelerated even more, hoping to get close enough to board the Satellite himself, but the speed of the Satellite was still quite great regardless of its poor condition. While Joel's small craft was a very space-worthy vessel, the speed wasn't anywhere near that of the SoL's. In the end, even after a good hour or so, he was still unable to catch up with it.

He began to search for an alternate method of connection -- a tube, or something. Instead, he came across something even better -- the tractor beam mentioned in the diagonistics marked, appropriately, with a picture of a tractor. Were Joel in any other state of mind, he might have appreciated the humor of the situation.

The Satellite suddenly lurched and began to descend. Joel, with a knot in his stomach, activated the tractor beam and prayed it was strong enough to hold the considerably large dog bone.

Success! The Satellite's sinking halted immediately. Now was the perfect time to pull alongside the Satellite and board.

*****

An atmosphere of quiet panic had enveloped the Satellite of Love. Crow and Tom Servo stood together alone on the bridge, shivering.

At last, Tom spoke. "Huh. We're drifting, our orbit's decaying, and the mysterious craft still hovers nearby; dark and ominous. It did save our lives once, but . . . why?"

Crow gulped. "It's toying with us," he concluded.

"Yes," Tom agreed.

"Yes!"

"Oh-no . . ."

"Toying!"

"Yes!"

Crow looked around panicked. "What do you want, you demons?!"

"What do you want?!" Tom echoed.

"What do you want?!"

"Who are you?!"

"WHO ARE YOU?!"

The theater door opened, and Joel stepped into the Satellite. (It was unknown how he managed to enter the Satellite from the theater; the only reasonable conclusions were either that an emergency exit was present from somewhere within, or that the state of the Satellite was so bad that even the CONTINUITY of the place was falling apart.)

Tom looked behind himself and jumped. "Look, BEHOLD!"

Crow looked back behind him as well. "Oh, it's just Joel," he said dismissively.

"Yeah, you were gonna get . . ."

It sunk in just as Joel grinned. "Hey you guys!"

"JOEL!" the bots chorused.

Happy babbling commenced as the bots crowded around Joel. It felt good to be so welcomed, especially after the casual disregard he'd experienced from the bots in the last dimension.

Of course, there was also an act to keep up -- he had to make sure it seemed as though he really hadn't seen them for the past five years. Still, he thought he did a pretty convincing job of it -- he even made it a point to comment about Crow's voice, though he'd already known that it had changed at some point after disconnection from Deep 13.

He related the details he'd learned about his life to the bots, acting casually as if he hadn't just found all this out a few hours ago. He'd just finished talking about the fish shop in Osseo when Mike stepped onto the bridge.

This Mike exuded an atmosphere of earthiness that Joel hadn't expected. Otherwise, however, he was identical in appearance to the Mike he'd met in the other dimension, although obviously wearing a different jumpsuit.

"Okay guys, all right, I'm set to go," Mike began, then stopped, noticing Joel for the first time. "Oh hey, who do we have here?"

"Mike, it's Joel! He's the guy who made us!" Crow exclaimed, an identical twinkle in his eye to the other Crow. Joel couldn't help but puff up a little seeing the situation reversed.

What surprised him, however, was that Mike wasn't awkward at all about meeting Joel. In fact, he was downright friendly about the situation, which made Joel feel a bit guilty about how he'd felt about Mike's counterpart.

Although granted, the bit where he mentioned Joel's tube socks unnerved him a little.

"Hey, did I hear you say you were managing a hot fish shop?" asked Mike, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, it's pretty neat," replied Joel.

"That's great! I mean, how do you even get that?"

"Well, you know, I just had a really good interview," Joel fudged. He found himself warming to this version of Mike; his open and friendly attitude made him feel as if he'd known the man all his life.

An idea struck him. "You know, I'm looking for an overnight cook," he offered.

Mike's face lit up like a child's. "Are you serious? Oh man, I . . ." Suddenly, he looked downcast. "Ah, who am I kidding? I'm stuck up here; I'm never gonna get down. Forget it, man."

Joel suddenly felt bad. He should've known how Mike would react; he'd reacted along similar lines. He attempted to console him, though his attempt went about as well as Mike's had in the other dimension. "Aw man. C'mon, take it easy, you know. Things are going to get better for you. I mean, uh, things change. I . . . uh, you know, listen to me, you know." He gesticulated futilely to make his point.

Mike seemed to cheer up a bit at his words, though. "All right. Well, hey, thanks."

Joel smiled back. "Thanks," he replied back. 'Thanks for not being the guy I was expecting,' he added in his mind.

Gypsy entered, right on cue. "Hey, you kids! Keep it down!" she shouted.

"Hey, hiya, Gypsy!" Joel greeted.

"BITE ME!" She stormed off in a huff.

Joel suddenly remembered why he'd come in the first place. "Oh, I'd better get going on Gypsy. I'll talk to you guys later, okay?"

"Okay, thanks a lot, okay, Joel," replied Mike slightly awkwardly.

Joel went to Gypsy to begin working on her systems, but not before overhearing a part of the conversation between Mike and the bots.

"Think about it. You know, I'm stuck up here, and that guy gets to manage a hot fish shop," he heard Mike say morosely.

"Hey hey, don't compare yourself, Mike, it ain't healthy," Tom said.

Joel smiled to himself. Even Mike had his neuroses, he supposed.

*****

The Satellite turned out to be a mess, quite literally. There were various areas where Joel assumed Mike had attempted to patch things up, but they were so haphazard and downright bizarre that it was no wonder the bots had been so cruel about his counterpart's mechanical skills in the other dimension. At one point he even found a pair of shoestrings tying together a couple of wires.

Still, in the end he'd managed to get it all together, and now they were at the point of parting again. TV's Frank was looking for him, and he wanted to make sure he wasn't there when he arrived.

"Yuh-oh, you'd better get going there, Joel," said Crow.

Mike protested suddenly. "Hey, hey! What about us? Can you take us with you?" he asked.

"Yeah!" added Crow. The two bots huddled close to Mike.

Joel knew he should say yes. He knew what it was like to stay up here, to float aimlessly in space never knowing when the Mads would put it all at an end; never once getting a good meal or a decent movie to watch. Nobody should have to go through that longer than necessary.

Yet . . .

As he looked at the trio, a cavalcade of images suddenly played in his mind. The love the bots had shown Mike in the other dimension, the over-friendliness the two bots had with him as he stood, the multitude of experiences they'd shared that Joel had been denied. . .

And for one, brief, all too vital moment, he resented Mike more than anybody else in the world.

"You know, I don't really want to."

Mike and the bots looked chagrined and shocked. "What? Why?"

Joel strained for a reason, then used the only one that came to mind. "Well, I'll tell you why: because the years I spent here on the Satellite of Love were the best damn years of my life, and I wouldn't want you mugs to miss a minute of it!"

"Really?" asked Mike, somewhat hesitantly.

"Yeah, really. It made a man out of me, and maybe, just maybe, if you're lucky, it'll make a man out of you!" Joel added. Then, mentally: 'Oh man, that was hokey. If I didn't fall for it, there's no way Mike's gonna --'

"Yeah! Yeah, that's it! You get goin' and I'll stay here, and I'll get busy being a man!"

It was all Joel could do to keep himself from falling over in disbelief. He'd actually bought it!

He recovered quickly and ad-libbed. "That's right! I knew there was something I liked about you, Mike! And you two 'bots -- you just keep 'em flying and remember Joel, all right?"

"All right, Joel! So long, Joel! Bye-bye! Bye! Go knock yourself out!" exclaimed Crow.

"Yeah! Yeah! All right, so long! Thanks! Thanks! Right out there, yeah!" added Mike.

"We'll remember you, Joel! There goes Joel Robinson, a man!" added Tom.

Joel continued to wave as the door slid shut. He made his way back to the ship, and the enormity of what he'd done began to sink in.

'Yep. There goes Joel Robinson, the worst man in the world.'

****************

Author's Notes:

Seem familiar? This chapter is meant to be nearly verbatim from the actual Soultaker episode, and we once again have the transcribers of the episode and Satellite News to thank for this. Of course, I skipped details here and there, because we really don't want to read an episode of a TV show, do we?

*cough* I'm looking at you, people who read X-Files episode novelisations.

Thanks also to Steph (again) for proof-reading. Write fics again!We're in a slump!

The tough part's done; now for some original stuff. (Might even edit it a little more as time rolls by; it still feels rough to me. Keep an eye out for improvements.)