I clipped one of them to my hip in case I needed it later and then pushed off from the crate toward another, larger container. Opening it, I found nothing of interest inside. In this way, I bounded from one crate to another for some time. It took me almost an hour to find the one labeled LARVITON SMALL ARMS. I tapped on the outside and then pressed my ear against the crate. After a moment, I heard a rhythmic tapping. It was Morse Code. The message was:
I DON’T THINK THERE’S ANY MONEY IN HERE
I tapped back:
SORRY SIR WILL GET YOU OUT SHORTLY
Before I did that, though, I needed to get the crate back into a pressurized atmosphere. Reentering the Raina Huebner seemed ill-advised; although we’d cleared out the cargo hold, the rest of the ship was still crawling with pirates. The Flagrante Delicto, on the other side of the Raina Huebner, was going to be difficult to reach. Our best chance was probably to try to get aboard the Chronic Lumbago. The pirates would undoubtedly assume we were dead and in any case they would be very unlikely to expect us to board their own ship. With any luck, most of the pirates were still aboard the Raina Huebner.
The question was how to get Rex’s crate to the pirate ship. What I really needed was some means of propulsion. I jumped from crate to crate again for a bit, finally finding one full of aerosol room fresheners. With my back against the crate, I emptied can after can of the stuff into the void, occasionally glancing over my shoulder to make sure I was still heading the right direction. It’s a good thing there’s no air in space, because that whole quadrant would have smelled like potpourri for a week.
It took forty-eight cans, but I managed to maneuver the crate so Rex was in between me and the Chronic Lumbago. Fifty-six cans later, we were moving slowly toward the bottom of the ship. I had a vague notion that I would cut through the ship’s hull with the lazegun and somehow drag Rex to an airlock before he asphyxiated or froze to death.
I was still working out the details of this plan when I became aware of a gigantic robotic arm moving toward us. Not knowing what else to do, I clutched tightly to the crate. Like a coin-operated crane plucking a stuffed animal out of a glass cage, the giant robotic hand closed on the crate, nearly crushing me in the process. It knocked the lazepistol off my hip, and I watched helplessly as the gun drifted away in the void. The crane pulled us toward the hull of the Chronic Lumbago. Turning my head, I saw a panel slide open on the bottom of the ship. The hand inserted the crate into the opening, depositing us gently on the floor of what appeared to be another cargo hold. The hand disappeared back through the opening and the panel slid shut.
My sensors told me that I was in a fully pressurized environment. Evidently the opening had a repulsion barrier that kept the air inside the hold. “Hold on, sir,” I said, as I started extracting the screws. “I’ll have you out of there presently.” There was no response; I could only hope that Rex was merely unconscious and not dead.
I’d just removed the third screw when two burly arms wrapped around me from behind, lifting me clear off the crate.
“Lookit I won!” yelled a loud, deep voice in my ear. “A friend!”
“Ergh,” I managed to say.
The arms released me and I crashed to the floor. Rolling onto my back, I saw the largest human being I’d ever seen. In fact, I’m not entirely certain he was human. He had all the superficial characteristics of a person, but the features were all out of proportion. He had a brow like a fireplace mantel and a nose like a sack of golf balls. He wore a stark white sailor’s outfit, complete down to the funny hat and navy blue sash around his neck. He had to be eight feet tall.
“What did you say, friend?” the man asked, his massive brow contorting with what appeared to be genuine concern.
“Uh,” I replied. “Who are you?”
“I’m Ensign Boggs,” said the huge man. “What is your name, new friend?”
“I’m Sasha,” I replied. “Are you… a pirate?”
Ensign Boggs thought for a moment. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I just run the crane. I hardly ever get to use it, but today I won a friend! And do you know who that friend was, Sasha?”
“If I’m not mistaken,” I began, getting to my feet, “that friend would be—”
“It’s you!” Bogg cried. “You are that friend!” He looked at me expectantly.
“So I had gathered,” I replied. “Say, Boggs, how would you like another friend?”
“ANOTHER FRIEND!” Boggs gasped, almost reeling at the possibility.
“That’s right,” I said. “There’s another potential friend inside this crate. But I have to get him out before he asphyxiates.”
“HOLD ON, POTENTIAL FRIEND!” Boggs shouted. He reached down and tore off the lid of the crate. Rex lay motionless inside. “POTENTIAL FRIEND!” Ensign Boggs shouted. “WAKE UP!”
Rex sat up with a start, gasping for air. He took one look at Ensign Boggs and screamed. Boggs took a step back, a hurt look on his face.
“Easy, sir,” I said. “This is Ensign Boggs. He’s a friend.”
Boggs nodded. “I’m Ensign Boggs. What’s your name, Potential Friend?”
“My name,” said Rex, “is Rex Ni—”
“OH MY GOODNESS!” Ensign Boggs cried. “Look at all the little arms!” He reached down and grabbed a handful of the robot arms. “Potential Friend, did you know your house is full of little arms?”
Rex scowled. “It’s not my house,” he said, climbing out of the crate.
Boggs seemed confused. “Then the little arms live there alone?”
“Forget the arms!” Rex snapped. “Are there any more pirates left aboard this ship?”
“Probably,” said Ensign Boggs. “This is a pirate ship.”
Rex sighed. “Can you tell us where they are?”
“I can show you,” Boggs replied, but he didn’t move. He was fascinated by the crate full of little arms.
“Now is good for us,” Rex said.
“Boggs?” I said.
“Do I have to leave the little arms?”
“I’m afraid so,” I said. “You can come back later, after you show us around the ship.”
Ensign Boggs nodded sadly and reluctantly put the handful of arms back in the crate. Then he retrieved the lid and placed it carefully back on the crate.
“Boggs,” Rex said. “The pirates…?”
But Boggs continued to stare at the crate somberly. “Give him a moment, sir,” I said.
“A moment for what?” Rex asked.
“A farewell to arms, sir.”
Chapter Seven
A quick survey of the ship revealed it to be empty. All the pirates—except those who had been sucked out of the cargo hold—were apparently aboard the Raina Huebner. I couldn’t blame them; The Raina Huebner was larger and in better condition than the Chronic Lumbago.
“This place is a dump,” Rex observed from the Chronic Lumbago’s bridge. The bridge was dark, cramped, and had a pungent, musty odor. The ceiling was so low that Boggs had to crouch to fit under it. To my left, water dripped from a pipe onto the metal floor.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Shall I retract the docking corridor?”
“What?” asked Rex. “Why?”
“Because of the pirates, sir. I would expect them to return from the Raina Huebner shortly.”
“Why would they do that?” asked Rex, glancing at the rusted walls distastefully. “I wouldn’t.”
He had a point. If the pirates had any sense, they’d ditch the Chronic Lumbago and use the Raina Huebner as their new ship.
“Regal Beagle isn’t a very good name for a pirate ship, though,” Rex observed.
“Raina Huebner,” I said. “I suspect they’ll simply change the call signs. The Raina Huebner will be renamed to the Chronic Lumbago. That way, Rubric Malgastar can maintain the legend of his fearsome ship.”
“Can they do that?” Rex asked dubiously. “It seems like cheating.”
“They’re pirates, sir. They’re not really known for toei
ng the line on such matters.”
“But don’t they have to paint the new name on the ship? And smash a bottle of champagne or something?”
“No, sir,” I said. “It’s simply a matter of updating the transponder settings on the bridge. Technically, they’re required to register the change with the Malarchian Registry of Space Vessels, but as I’ve noted, pirates tend not to trouble themselves with such formalities.”
“Sasha and Potential Friend!” Ensign Boggs boomed from behind us. He had been so quiet that I’d momentarily forgot he was behind us. When he spoke, Rex and I both jumped.
“What is it, Boggs?” I asked.
“Can I go back and try to win more friends now?”
“Sure, Boggs,” I said. “Go nuts.”
“I will do that,” said Boggs. “I will go nuts winning more friends.” He turned and stomped away down the corridor.
“What’s up with that guy?” Rex asked, watching Boggs trudge away.
“I believe that’s the uniform of the Caligarian Navy he’s wearing,” I said. “The Chronic Lumbago is a Pisces-class freighter. The Caligarian Republic used to use those to ship food to their colonies.”
“But the Caligarian Republic was dismantled by the Malarchy sixteen years ago,” Rex replied. “Are you saying…?”
“I think Ensign Boggs came with the ship. Maybe the Chronic Lumbago—or whatever it was called at that point—was commandeered by pirates, or maybe the pirates came into possession of it at some point after the Republic collapsed. But somehow Boggs never got the word. And for whatever reason, the pirates decided to keep him around.”
“Well, he seems harmless enough,” said Rex. He turned back to face the viewport. The Raina Huebner hung in space directly in front of us. “Sasha, I think it’s time we cut our losses on this operation.”
“You mean let the pirates have the Raina Huebner and keep the Chronic Lumbago for ourselves?”
“What? No, I’m not holding onto this lousy ship. It’s not even worth the trouble to sell it. We need to get the Flagrante Delicto back.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible, sir. It’s docked with the Raina Huebner, which has been commandeered by the pirates. We’d have to go through the Raina Huebner, past the pirates, to get to the Flagrante Delicto.”
“Well, I can’t stay on this ship. The whole place smells like feet.”
At that moment, a voice crackled over the ship’s comm:
“Captain and crew of the Chronic Lumbago, this is Heinous Vlaak of the Malarchian Naval Battleship Carpathian Winter. Return to your ship and retract your docking corridor immediately or be fired upon.” The transmission was coming over standard hailing frequencies. Glancing at the tactical display on the control panel, I saw that a Malarchian battleship was indeed approaching.
“Heinous Vlaak!” Rex cried. “What is he doing here?”
“Enforcing anti-piracy laws, I would assume,” I said. It was somewhat unusual for the Malarchian Navy to bother with protecting private freighters from pirates; the Malarchy expended most of its efforts repressing civilian populations, snuffing out rebellions, and occasionally blowing up troublesome planets. Every once in a while, though, they’d make a show of blasting a pirate ship out of the sky just to remind people that they could. More surprising was that Heinous Vlaak, the Malarchian Primate’s chief enforcer, was on board. The Malarchy usually reserved Vlaak’s talents for more vital tasks than routing pirates, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been demoted after our last encounter. Vlaak had been responsible for the destruction of much of the Malarchian fleet at the Battle of the Moon of Akdar. There was no love lost between him and Rex; hopefully his appearance was only a coincidence.
“Tell him the pirates are on the Raina Huebner!” Rex yelled. “Otherwise he’s going to blow us to pieces!” He was right. Whatever weapons the Chronic Lumbago had, it was no match for a Malarchian battleship.
“But sir,” I said, “technically we’re pirates as well. We stole the Raina Huebner.”
“Vlaak doesn’t need to know that,” Rex snapped. “Tell him!”
I located the ship’s transmitter, set the frequency and grabbed the microphone. “Hi,” I said. “This is, um, Sasha. Please don’t shoot us. The pirates boarded our ship. That is, the ship we were on. Technically we—”
“Don’t tell him your name!” Rex snapped, grabbing the mic out of my hand. “This is Captain Vance Truename of the Raining Tubers—”
“Raina Huebner, sir.”
“Right, Captain Vince Rightworthy of the—”
A gruff voice broke in: “This is Captain… yeaargh… Rusty McShipperson of the Raina Huebner. Don’t ye listen to that scurvy dog’s lies. I am the rightful captain of this here vessel, and I demand that ye blast that vile pirate ship to smithereens! Shut up, I’m talking!” This last seemed to be directed at a member of the Malgastar’s crew, who was trying to interrupt to tell him something.
“He’s lying!” Rex yelled. “He’s the pirate! I, Vaughn Truthnugget, am the captain of the Rival Humor, and I demand—”
“This is your second warning,” said Heinous Vlaak’s voice. “You won’t get a third. Return to your ship and retract your docking corridor.”
“Quick, Sasha!” Rex cried, putting down the mic. “Retract the corridor!”
I frantically scanned the ship’s controls, trying to find the ones that controlled the docking corridor. The Chronic Lumbago’s controls seemed to be arranged at random, and the ship was so old and ill-maintained that most of the labels had been worn off. I picked what seemed to be the most likely option and pressed a button. I heard what sounded like the hum of a motor and breathed a sigh of relief. This sound was quickly followed, however, by the roar of rockets.
“What is that?” Rex asked.
I frowned. “I’d estimate a fifty-eight percent chance that I accidentally launched torpedoes at the Raina Huebner, sir.”
Several explosions detonated on the hull of the Raina Huebner, filling the bridge with blinding white light.
“I’d like to update my previous estimate,” I said.
“You’ve doomed us, Sasha!” Rex cried. “The Malarchy is going to think we’re attacking the Raina Huebner!”
“A reasonable deduction,” I said. “I’m sorry, sir. I did my best.”
The good news is that on the second try, I did find the docking corridor control. As it slowly retracted, several more explosions lit up the Raina Huebner.
“Stop firing, Sasha! We can’t take on the pirates and a Malarchian battleship!”
“That isn’t me, sir. We’ve exhausted our torpedoes. The Carpathian Winter seems to be firing on the Raina Huebner.”
We watched as the Raina Huebner came apart in a blast of fire. Over the speakers we heard pirates screaming incomprehensibly. The screaming soon faded to static.
“Huh,” said Rex, furrowing his brow at the disintegrating freighter. “Why’d the Malarchians do that?”
It took me a few seconds to figure it out. “Call signs,” I said, tapping a display in front of me. It showed graphical representations of four vessels. The disintegrating ship was labeled Chronic Lumbago.
“They’d already switched them,” Rex said.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Malgastar was apparently unaware that one of his underlings had already made the change.”
“He accidentally fooled the Malarchy into destroying his own ship,” Rex cackled. “What a maroon.”
I watched as the Chronic Lumbago label winked out. Half a second later, the label for the Flagrante Delicto vanished as well. I don’t think Rex saw it, but he had to know. There was no way the Flagrante Delicto could have survived that explosion.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “It would seem that Captain Malgastar’s lack of attention to detail was his undoing. Welcome back to the Raina Huebner, sir.”
“Thrilled to be here,” said Rex, without enthusiasm.
“This ship is growing on you then?”
“There’s d
efinitely something growing in here,” Rex agreed, staring at a gooey patch of something in the corner behind him.
“Have a nice day, folks,” said Heinous Vlaak’s voice over the speakers. “Watch out for pirates.” We watched the Carpathian Winter vanish from the display as it left Euclidean space. Another successful operation for the vaunted Malarchian Navy.
“If it makes you feel better, sir,” I said, “now that the Flagrante Delicto has been destroyed, there’s nothing preventing us from christening this ship with that name.”
Rex shook his head. “I would never sully that name by associating it with this flying fungus factory,” he said. “No, I’m afraid there was only one Flagrante Delicto, and now it’s just a scattered cloud of debris, floating amongst the flotsam and jetsam of the erstwhile Raina Huebner. Sasha, I suggest we observe a moment of silence while we reflect on the adventures, hijinks, and shenanigans made possible by that beloved and never-to-be-replicated ship, the—”
“Sir, Look!” I exclaimed, pointing to the display. The Flagrante Delicto had reappeared, and was currently hurtling away from the wreckage.
“The pirates made off with our ship!” Rex exclaimed.
“So it would appear, sir,” I said. “They must have gotten away before the Malarchians began firing. Our sensors must have momentarily lost track of the Flagrante Delicto with all the rubbish floating about.”
“Well, don’t just stand there. Go after it, Sasha!”
“I’ll do what I can, sir.” I redirected all power to the thrusters, and we slowly began to gain on the Flagrante Delicto. I wasn’t sure what Rex planned to do when we caught up with it; short of firing on our own ship, there wasn’t much we could do to get the pirates to give our ship back. As it happened, the matter never came up: the pirates must have been working on rationalizing a hypergeometrical course to another part of the galaxy, because presently the ship once again disappeared.
Aye, Robot (A Rex Nihilo Adventure) (Starship Grifters Book 2) Page 5
