“What in Space was that?” Rex asked.
“Pressure differential,” I said. “It would seem the Flagrante Delicto—that is, the Chronic Lumbago—lost a fair amount of its atmosphere.”
“Well, that sucks,” said Rex.
“Aye, sir.”
As Boggs peered through the hatch, I made my way down the corridor. Rex and Donny followed.
“So the Flagrante Delicto is still leaking air,” said Rex. “I thought we fixed that. Remind me, Sasha. Who was supposed to take care of that?”
“No, sir. I, sir. You assigned me to fix it, but then you decided to steal the Raina Huebner, so I never had a chance.”
“Don’t blame your negligence on me, bolt-brain. Let’s go find those pirates.”
As we neared the bridge, I heard a voice gasping weakly, “No air… can’t breathe… if anybody can hear…” This was followed by a loud squawk and then a prolonged choking sound, like someone gasping for breath. After a moment, the voice went on, “That’s a good girl. Have another battery. No air… can’t breathe…”
We emerged onto the bridge to see six pirates, including Rubric Malgastar, lying in various contorted positions on the floor. Their faces were a bluish-white and several of them had their hands on their throats. Standing on Malgastar’s chest was the robotic parrot.
“Can’t breathe…” the parrot said, cocking its head at us. “That’s a good boy.”
“Look at that,” Rex said, lifting his eye patch to take in the scene. “I killed six men without firing a shot. And got my ship back. Am I a great pirate or what?”
I didn’t reply. Donny stalked about the bridge on his creepy arm-legs, inspecting the dead men. Boggs looked like he was going to vomit.
“Can’t breathe,” the parrot announced. “No air.”
“That’s okay, girl,” Rex said. “You’re safe now.” He crouched over Malgastar’s body and held out his left arm. After a moment, the parrot hopped on his wrist, climbed up his arm, and settled on his shoulder. “No air,” the parrot said again. “That’s a good boy.”
“I’ve always wanted a robot friend,” said Rex, smiling at the parrot.
I sighed heavily. Rex didn’t seem to notice. “What should I name him, Sasha? It should be something cool and piratey and not lame.”
“How about Caliban?” I said.
“No,” Rex replied.
“Bathazar?” I said.
“No,” Rex replied.
“Orlando,” I said.
“No.”
“Cromwell.”
“No.”
“Marcellus.”
“No.”
“Cuthbert.”
“No.”
“Agrippa.”
“No.”
“Cervantes.”
“No.”
“Iago.”
“No.”
“I give up sir,” I said. “Maybe you weren’t meant to have a—”
“Squawky!” Rex announced. “That’s it! I’ll call you Squawky!”
I groaned.
“Steve,” squawked the parrot.
“Isn’t Squawky adorable?” Rex said. “He just repeats words with no sense of their meaning.”
“Seriously, my name is Steve,” squawked the parrot.
“Ha!” Rex cried. “He accidentally made a sentence!”
“Please,” said the parrot. “Call me Steve. Or Cuthbert. Or Cheetah. Honestly, anything but Squawky.”
“Delightful,” Rex said. “Squawky, you’re the best robot pal a guy could have, even if you do jabber a lot of nonsense.”
“Best robot pal,” repeated the parrot, apparently mollified.
Rex turned to me. “Sasha and Boggs, drag these pirates back to the Chronic Lumbago.”
“You mean the Raina Huebner,” I replied.
“Not anymore. I’m reclaiming this ship as the Flagrante Delicto.”
“I’m not sure that has any effect on the Raina Huebner,” I replied. “In any case, this ship isn’t safe. There’s an air leak.”
“I can fix an air leak,” Boggs said.
“Like you fixed my arm?” I asked.
“You can’t fix an air leak with a hook, Sasha,” Boggs answered.
“You see, Sasha?” Rex said. “I’m a natural born pirate. I’ve assembled a hearty pirate crew without even trying. We all have our own unique talents. As captain, I will ponder our next move while you drag these bodies back to their ship, Squawky entertains me with his jabbering, Boggs repairs the leak, and Donny… uh…”
“Donny has a talent?” Donny asked, hopefully.
“Of course Donny has a talent!” Rex cried. “Don’t you ever doubt yourself, Donny. You were created with a purpose in mind, and that purpose was…” Rex looked to Boggs, who seemed as surprised as anyone by this news. “…to believe in yourself!” Rex said.
“Donny’s purpose is to believe in Donny?”
“Well, nobody is going to do it,” said Rex. “You see? You’re indispensable.”
“Donny believes in Donny!” Donny exclaimed, as if having an epiphany.
“Then it’s settled,” Rex said. “You have your orders. Hop to it!”
I spent the next ten minutes dragging pirates through the docking corridor. I had to admit that, misgivings aside, having a hook for an arm sure makes it easy to drag corpses.
By the time I’d finished, Rex was asleep in his bunk. I was loath to wake him, but I didn’t want to hang out in Dead Man’s Nebula any longer than we had to. If the green-brown planet below really was the location of a pirate lair, it was very likely there were other pirates around, and eventually they’d detect our presence. We’d already lost our ship to pirates once; I’d prefer not to do it again. Rex, of course, had other ideas.
“We can’t leave yet,” he said, jumping out of bed. The robotic parrot, which had remained on his shoulder while he slept, fluttered its metal wings to keep its footing. “We haven’t found the secret pirate lair yet!”
“Why would we want to find it, sir? Pirates have given us nothing but trouble.”
“But now we are pirates, Sasha! We’re part of a proud fraternity of corsairs, freebooters and privateers. If we find the pirate lair, we can sing space chanties with our fellow pirates and drink Atavarian rum until we vomit into our shoes!”
“You’re not really selling the idea, sir.”
“Also, the pirates might know the location of Planet Z.”
“Planet Z, sir?”
“Come on, Sasha. Planet Z. The treasure planet.”
“I’m unaware of the existence of any treasure planet, sir. It’s not on any of the official charts.”
“Well, neither is the pirate haven planet we’re orbiting, dongle-brain. That’s why they’re secret.”
“Why wouldn’t the pirates just hide their treasure on the pirate haven planet?”
Rex sighed in exasperation. “You can’t hide your treasure at a pirate haven. That’s the first place people would look.”
“So your contention is that there is a secret planet that all the pirates have decided to use for hiding treasure?”
“Not all of them. Just the ones in the know.”
“And you hope to go to this planet and just start gathering up treasure?”
“Of course not. We’ll need a shovel.”
“Ah, so it’s buried treasure, is it?”
“Yes, it’s buried, Sasha. Don’t you know anything about pirates? They raid ships, steal booty, and then bury the booty, at which point it becomes treasure. This is basic pirate stuff.”
“But even if we find Planet Z, how will we know where the treasure is buried?”
“That’s the great thing about a treasure planet. By this point, there’s probably so much treasure buried there that we can just start digging at random and find some of it.”
“I see. But if the treasure is so easy to find, why do they keep burying it?”
Rex sighed again. “It’s easy to find treasure, in general, on a trea
sure planet. It’s hard to find any particular cache of treasure. So pirates keep burying treasure there even though the treasure is easy to find, because the odds of anyone finding their cache are astronomically low. It’s called the Treasure Planet Paradox.”
“I’m reasonably certain you just made that up, sir. In any case, this is all academic. We don’t even know where the supposed pirate lair is.”
“Have you tried checking the pirates’ nav computer?”
“Well, no,” I admitted. “But they’d have to be ridiculously careless to leave the landing coordinates for a secret pirate lair lying around.”
“Ridiculously careless,” Rex said, nodding. “That sounds like our pirates.”
I sighed. He was right. “I’ll go look, sir.”
Sadly, Rex was correct. It took me less than five minutes to find the landing coordinates. Rubric Malgastar had apparently relied so heavily on his intimidating persona that he’d allowed himself and his crew to get incredibly sloppy. I waited half an hour to inform Rex what I’d found, hoping that he’d have changed his mind in the meantime. He hadn’t.
“Time’s a-wasting, Sasha!” he snapped. “Get us to that pirate lair!”
I sighed and shuffled back to the bridge. I entered the coordinates and we broke orbit. Half an hour later, we were descending through the planet’s murky atmosphere toward a small, rocky island in the middle of a vast, murky sea. A dim sun hung in the distance, barely discernible in the greenish-gray fog. The landing coordinates guided me to a flat stone surface encircled by tall, spikey peaks of black rock. We set down amongst several other ships, most of them much larger, but in even worse shape, than ours. The biggest and ugliest of these was labeled Coccydynia.
We had found the pirate lair.
Chapter Ten
Rex sent Boggs and Donny outside first. When they weren’t immediately vaporized, Rex and I followed. I scanned the area but saw no movement.
“This way,” Rex announced, marching in an apparently randomly selected direction. The rest of us followed. We hadn’t gone more than fifty paces when a voice called to us from the darkness.
“Hey!” it said. “I mean, ahoy there!” It was a young man’s voice, high pitched and uncertain.
“Who goes there?” shouted Rex.
“It’s me,” said the voice. “Tim. I’m sorry there aren’t more of us here to greet you, Captain. We’re a little short-staffed.” In the dim light of the Flagrante Delicto, we saw a young man approaching. He stopped a few meters in front of Rex.
“Yes, well,” said Rex, trying to gauge the proper demeanor for the occasion. “Don’t let it happen again.”
“No, sir,” said Tim. “Aye, sir. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow. Did you really commandeer the Raina Huebner?”
“Who wants to know?” Rex demanded.
“Um, just me, sir,” said Tim. “I apologize if my question is out of line. I’m new here.”
“Don’t worry about it, Tim,” Rex said. “You can make it up to me by showing me around this place.”
“Yes, sir!” Tim said. “Is this your first visit here?”
“Let’s say it is,” Rex replied. “That way, you can get some practice.”
“Yes, sir. This way, sir.” Tim set off in the direction opposite where Rex had been heading. “Welcome to Sargasso Seven, sir. They pride themselves… that is, we pride ourselves on being the premier secret pirate lair in the galaxy. Our saloon was rated Not Entirely Unpleasant by Hidden Pirate Lairs Monthly. We also have sleeping rooms and various forms of entertainment, from shuffleboard to competitive dusting. I’ll take you to the saloon first.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea, Tim,” Rex said.
We followed Tim to a one of the tower-like peaks that surrounded the landing area. When we were just a few meters away, I saw that he was headed toward a door in the rock wall. Between the dim light and the fog that hung in the air, it was difficult to see anything.
“Sorry it’s so hard to see,” Tim said. “But this is, after all, a secret lair. Outside lights would draw attention to our location.”
“Stop apologizing, Tim,” Rex said. “It’s unseemly for a pirate.”
“Oh, I’m not a pirate, sir,” said Tim. “Not yet, anyway. I’m just an intern. I have a long way to go before I’m an actual pirate.”
“Well said, Tim,” Rex said. “Too many people these days think they can throw on an eye patch, steal a parrot and call themselves pirates. It’s shameful, really.”
Tim opened the door and we followed him inside. We found ourselves in a room that was nearly as dark as the landing area. It smelled of stale smoke and sweat. Murmurs and the clinking of glasses told us we were not alone. I saw that we were in a small tavern filled with rough-hewn wood tables and benches. Here and there sat several small groups of gruff-looking men in dirty clothes. One of these, a portly man with an impossibly thick, mane-like beard that swooped forward and curled upward toward a point, had stood up and was limping toward us. His left leg below the knee was a peg.
“You got a lotta nerve walking into this place,” the man growled.
Rex peered into the semidarkness with his one unobscured eye, trying to see who was addressing him.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Hookbeard, sir,” said Tim to the portly man. “I see you’re already acquainted with our new guest.”
“Only by reputation,” Hookbeard said, glaring at Rex. “This is the man who swindled me out of the Pinot Grigio.” A damp toothpick hung from the corner of his mouth and at least two more were partially hidden in his beard.
I racked my circuits trying to remember anything about such an incident. I doubted Hookbeard would be this upset about a bottle of wine. A spaceship, then? Swindling someone out of a ship certainly sounded like Rex, but I had no recollection of one called the Pinot Grigio.
“That was a long time ago,” said Rex. The vagueness of his response indicated he was in the same boat as I: he didn’t have any idea what Hookbeard was talking about. A normal person would simply have admitted this, but Rex never likes to admit he doesn’t know something until he knows why he doesn’t know it and how this information can be used to his advantage.
“It was three weeks ago, you bastard,” Hookbeard said. The point of his beard waggled angrily in front of him. The toothpick fell from his mouth and was immediately lost in his beard. He produced another one and stuck it in his mouth.
“Yeah, but that’s like forever in pirate years.”
“Pretty shoddy-looking gang you’ve got here,” Hookbeard said. He gestured toward me, Boggs and Donny. “My robust crew of privateers puts them to shame.” Several dirty and unkempt men at the table where Hookbeard had been sitting raised their glasses and cheered. “And I must admit,” Hookbeard went on, “you’re not what I expected, Malgastar.”
“Yes, well, I like to think I defy… eh?” Rex said. “What did you call me?”
Hookbeard laughed deeply. “You didn’t think you could just sneak in here without being recognized, did you? We’ve been tracking your ship since you entered the atmosphere. Everyone here knows the legendary Rubric Malgastar, captain of the Chronic Lumbago.”
I realized now why we were being welcomed so warmly. Our ship was still broadcasting the call sign of the Chronic Lumbago. As far as these people knew, we were pirates.
Rex surveyed the room, seeing that all eyes in the place were on him. No one spoke up to contradict Hookbeard.
“Right!” Rex declared after a moment’s consideration. “That is me. Aye! I am Rubric Magastar, notorious space pirate. You can tell by my eye patch!”
“No air,” said the parrot on Rex’s shoulder. “Can’t breathe.”
“And by my parrot, Squawky, of course.”
“Steve,” said the parrot.
“He’s always squawking crazy stuff like that,” Rex explained. “That’s why I call him Squawky.”
“I’m probably going to murder him,” said the parrot.
“See?” Rex said
. “He’s adorable. What do you say we let bygones be bygones, Mr. Falberg?”
“Hookbeard,” said Hookbeard.
“Right, of course,” said Rex. “Let me buy you a drink.”
Hookbeard studied Rex for a moment. “Fine,” he said at last. The five of us sat at a table.
“You’re still flying the Chronic Lumbago, I see,” said Hookbeard. “I’ve recently traded up. That’s my ship out there, the Coccydynia. It’s a refitted Malarchian frigate. Lotta upgrades. Best pirate ship in the galaxy.”
“Yes, well,” said Rex. “I’m sure it’s a fine ship.” Rex seemed unsure what to make of Hookbeard’s advances. His initial scorn had given way to efforts to impress Rex.
“So, what are you up to these days, Malgastar?” Hookbeard asked. “I heard you raided the Raina Huebner. Where is she?”
“A pirate never tells,” said Rex.
“What about the booty?” said Hookbeard. “Did you unload it somewhere? No way you got it all on that little ship of yours. I always pictured the Chronic Lumbago as being… bigger.”
“You know what they say,” said Rex. “It’s not the size of the pirate ship; it’s what you do with the booty. So, who does a man have to keelhaul to get a drink around here?” he asked.
As he spoke, Tim returned with a strikingly beautiful woman at his side. She wore tight black pants and a billowy cotton top with a leather bustier showcasing her figure. Her eyes were a piercing blue visible even in the dim light of the tavern; her face was pale and severe. Curls of thick black hair fell just past her shoulders.
“I appreciate the thought, Tim,” said Rex, ogling the woman’s cleavage, “but I think our crew could use some victuals before we’re ready for more sophisticated forms of entertainment.”
Tim appeared momentarily puzzled. “Oh, she’s not—” He started.
The woman cut him off. “I’m Pepper Mélange,” she said coldly. “I’m the proprietor of this establishment.”
“You own the saloon?” I asked.
“I own all of it. I run Sargasso Seven.” The woman seemed vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn’t figure out why.
“The whole planet?” Rex asked.
“Sure, such as it is. The planet is uninhabitable except for this island. I found it by accident when I was on the run from the Malarchy a couple years ago, back when I was dabbling a bit in the piracy game myself. Decided to settle down and give back to the pirate community by opening a secret lair. This place is open to freebooters, corsairs, buccaneers and marauders of all stripes.”
Aye, Robot (A Rex Nihilo Adventure) (Starship Grifters Book 2) Page 7
