I checked the coordinates. “We’re right on top of it, sir.”
I sympathized with Rex’s puzzlement. The “spaceport” appeared to be an abandoned parking lot. Faded lines were barely visible, and weeds sprouted through cracked asphalt. About a hundred yards away was a boarded up building with a sign that read EZ Mart. EZ Mart was the biggest retail chain in the galaxy; a couple decades ago they had gone on an galaxy-wide expansion rampage, building stores on hundreds of sparsely inhabited – and in at least one case, completely uninhabitable – worlds. EZ Mart fell on hard times and declared bankruptcy, leaving many of these new stores empty and unstaffed. Some of the properties were sold to local residents for pennies on the Malarchian Standard Credit. In this case, the store itself seemed to have been deserted while the parking lot was converted into a makeshift spaceport – “converted” in this case consisting of someone putting up a hand-painted sign reading:
TRENTENO SPACPORT
The island itself seemed pleasant enough, although it appeared to be barren of vegetation except for weeds and a few scraggly shrubs. At first I took the area to be deserted, but as our engines cooled, a band of maybe two dozen men in ragged clothing ran from one end of the parking lot to the other, disappearing into the weeds. A few seconds later, another band of similar size and sartorial inclination – but carrying sticks and clubs – followed. They too disappeared into the weeds.
Rex’s eyes lit up. I thought he might actually shed a tear. In Rex’s eyes, there are few sights more beautiful than two groups of people trying to beat each other to death with sticks – particularly when he’s got a shipload of lazepistols to peddle.
“Let’s go meet the locals,” said Rex. “We’ve got an obligation to share with them the blessings of civilization.”
We exited the ship. Not wanting to get involved in the fracas (the beauty of two groups trying to kill each other with sticks is best observed from a distance), we set off in the direction from which the two groups had come. Another hand painted sign read:
TRENTENO CITY ↑
The pointed toward a barely discernible path through the weeds. We followed the path to the edge of a ravine that overlooked a village of squat huts. Chicolini as a whole was backward by galactic standards, but this settlement was positively primitive. It was hard to believe people still lived like this in the thirty-first century; whoever had named this settlement “Trentino City” did not suffer from a want of imagination. Probably some idealistic group had broken away from the main population center on Chicolini, hoping to establish a utopian community on the other side of the planet. Rex and I had seen this sort of thing before. High hopes give way to infighting and disillusionment as the settlers realize how hard it is just to survive without the fundaments of modern civilization. The only chance these settlers had was to exploit some natural resource and establish trade with the other half of Chicolini. Judging from the environment and general squalor – not to mention the fact that they were trying to beat each other to death with sticks – they had thus far failed to do this.
“Sir,” I said, as we made our way into the valley, “what makes you think these people have anything of value to trade for the guns?”
“Wherever there are people trying to kill each other,” Rex said, “there’s something of value.”
I supposed he was right, in a sense. But if you’re starving, a sack of potatoes is worth fighting for. I didn’t see Rex wanting to trade his guns for potatoes.
“In any case,” said Rex, “whatever we get from these people is a net gain, since we aren’t actually going to sell them the guns.”
“Sir,” I said. “I don’t know if you noticed, but ours is the only ship at the Trentino spaceport. There are no other containers to pull your label-switching trick with.”
Rex shook his head and sighed. “You have no imagination, Sasha. Obviously we can’t pull the exact same trick with these beetle-eating stick-thumpers. We’re going to have to improvise. If anything, it’ll be easier to fool them, because they’ll assume that it will be nearly impossible for us to fool them under the circumstances.”
Welcome to Rex Nihilo Logic 101.
“Sir, do you ever feel guilty for pulling these scams on people?” I asked.
“Guilty?” asked Rex, as if I’d asked him whether he thought strawberries were too salty. “Of course not. It would be irresponsible to sell guns to these people. You saw them chasing each other around with sticks. You really think guns are going to improve the situation? No, Sasha. We’re not going to sell these people guns. We’re going to sell them something much more valuable.”
“Potatoes?” I ventured.
“What? No, we’re going to provide them with a valuable life lesson.”
“Don’t trust strangers?” I suggested.
“Violence is not the answer,” replied Rex. “These people need to figure out how to work out their problems without killing each other. If it takes bilking them into buying a bill of goods to do that, then I owe it to them to overcome my petty moral compunctions and give them the shaft.”
“Your sacrifice is to be commended, sir,” I said.
We were met near the edge of the village by a small contingent of harried-looking men and women in ragged clothes. They carried clubs and sharpened sticks.
“Greetings, harried villagers!” said Rex. “I come from far across the galaxy, bearing the gifts of civilization. Check this out.”
He pulled a lazepistol from his belt and fired it at a small lizard crouched on a nearby rock. The rock exploded into pieces and the lizard landed on the ground, stunned. It scurried away into the underbrush.
“You’d better run!” Rex shouted at the lizard. He turned back to the villagers. “If I were a better shot, that lizard would never bother you again,” he said. “As it is, he’s probably going to need some pretty extensive counseling.”
“Are you threatening us?” demanded a bearded man at the head of the group.
“Not at all,” said Rex. “I’m offering to help you. As we landed, we couldn’t help but noticed a group of ne’er-do-wells fleeing from a brave citizen militia armed as you are, with pointed sticks and clubs. It might interest you to know that I’ve got five thousand more of these little babies in a cargo container in our ship.”
The bearded man regarded Rex for a moment. “Come with me,” he said. “Our leader may want to talk to you.”
Rex grinned at me, and we followed the group into the village. So far, so good.
One of the younger members of the group ran ahead to alert the villagers, and by the time we arrived in the center of the huts, the village council had assembled. The leader was a matronly woman with pendulous breasts tucked into her waistband and a great mass of frizzy gray hair on her head. Around her neck she wore a pendant of azure stone. “Greetings, offworlders!” exclaimed the woman. “I am Svetlana Kvarcher, the Mayor of Trentino City.”
“Hi there,” said Rex. “Name’s Rex Nihilo. Perhaps you’ve heard of me. The legendary space merchant?”
Svetlana stared blankly at him.
“Well, your village is a bit remote,” said Rex. “I come bearing goods from the beyond the stars. Behold!” He held out the lazepistol.
“Who’s your friend?” asked Svetlana. I was trying to get a better look at that pendant. It almost looked like –
“Friend?” asked Rex, momentarily confused. “Oh, Sasha. She’s my robot. Bought her at an auction of assorted machine parts a few weeks back. Pain in the ass, but she’s cheaper than a human pilot. Pay no attention to her. Sasha!”
“Sorry, sir,” I said. I had been staring at the pendant.
“What brings you to our fine city, Mr. Nihilo?” asked Svetlana.
“Serendipity,” said Rex. “Funny name for a ship, but it’s a rental, so what are you going to do?”
Svetlana frowned. “I mean, why are you here?”
“Oh!” exclaimed Rex. “I have a nose for opportunity. I just had a feeling that the people of Trentin
o City would appreciate a delivery of high quality lazepistols.”
“How many of these guns do you have?” Svetlana asked.
“Five thousand,” said Rex.
Svetlana’s mouth dropped open. “There are only two hundred people in our village.”
“Great!” said Rex. “You’ll have some spares.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Nihilo,” said Svetlana. “It’s true that we’ve had some trouble lately with some separatists who have set up another community in the hills east of here, but we couldn’t possibly make use of that many guns. In any case, we’re a very poor people. We have nothing to pay you with.”
“Actually…” I started.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Rex interrupted, glaring at me. “So tell me about these separatists.”
Svetlana sighed. “A few weeks ago, a group within the village attempted a coup to oust me from power. The revolt was put down and the rebels were exiled from the city. Since then they’ve set up another settlement in the hills east of the spaceport. We’d be happy to let them go their own way, but they don’t have the resources to survive on their own, so they keep raiding Trentino City for supplies. We barely have enough food to survive ourselves, so the raids are a real problem.”
“I have been moved by your plight,” announced Rex, when he noticed Svetlana had stopped talking. “I’d like to supply you with lazepistols so that you can defend yourself against these vile separatists.”
“But we have no money,” said Svetlana.
“Don’t worry about that,” said Rex. “As I say, I’m sure we can work something out. Wow, that is a lovely pendant.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Svetlana, regarding the azure stone. “One of the children found it in the hills not far from the separatist camp.”
“Really?” said Rex. “It’s beautiful. What kind of stone is that?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s –” I started.
“Not asking you, Sasha,” Rex growled. “Clamp it.”
“I don’t know what it’s called,” said Svetlana, “but I don’t think it’s valuable. The creek bed near the separatist camp is littered with them. They look nice, but they crumble in your hands if you squeeze them too hard.”
“Too bad,” said Rex. “Still, I might be able to sell them to a costume jewelry supplier. I’ll burn nearly as much in fuel trying to transport them as I’ll get for the stones, but it’s better than leaving Chicolini empty-handed.”
“But why don’t you just sell the guns somewhere else?” asked Svetlana.
Rex sighed. “To be completely honest with you,” he began – a sure sign that what was to follow was a real whopper – “I’ve got to unload these guns as soon as I can. I’m supposed to be halfway across the galaxy in three days to pick up a load of Cyrinni java powder. If I’m not there on time, I’ll lose a multimillion credit contract. I’ll give these guns away if I have to, but maybe I can mitigate my losses somewhat with a load of those rhinestones.”
“Well, you’re welcome to take as many as you can,” said Svetlana. “But I can’t vouch for your safety if you venture into the hills. That’s separatist territory.”
“Not for long,” said Rex. “Let’s get you some lazepistols and teach those separatists what’s what.”
CHAPTER THREE
Rex and I crept up the hill toward the separatist camp. We were bringing up the rear of the Trentino City contingent, which was made up of twenty-eight villagers, mostly young men. The bearded man who had met us at the village – whose name we learned was Glenn – was leading the group. Each of them carried one of Rex’s snub-nosed lazepistols. We had started out with an even thirty men, but two of them had accidentally blinded themselves on the way over and had to be left behind. The settlers weren’t what you’d call experienced military men.
I had tried to convince Rex that it was unwise for us to accompany the expedition, but he had insisted. I had a pretty good idea why: he wanted to get a better look at those azure stones. Svetlana was right, they weren’t worth much as precious stones. That’s because they were pure zontonium ore. Zontonium was the compound used as fuel by most of the newer ships in the galaxy. There probably weren’t a lot of zontonium-powered ships in this sector, and in any case hardly anybody knew what zontonium ore looked like in its raw form. Apparently Rex did. A handful of that stuff could send a starship halfway across the galaxy. If Rex were able to trade five thousand lazepistols for a load of zontonium, he’d make out very well indeed – even if it meant not being able to sell Gavin Larviton’s guns three or four more times.
The men in front had paused at the crest of the hill, and Rex crept up toward them. I followed reluctantly. Crouched in the tall grass at the crest of the hill, we could see the separatist camp down below. It wasn’t much: just a few dozen tents set up near a dry creek bed.
We were momentarily startled by the roaring of thrusters behind us. A small craft was landing at the spaceport.
“You expecting someone?” Rex asked Glenn.
“That’s just Javier,” said Glenn. “He’s our ambassador to Chicolini City. Just got back from one of his trips.”
Rex nodded. As long as Javier didn’t interfere with Rex’s plan to get his hands on those azure stones, Rex couldn’t care less. He turned his attention back to the valley ahead of us. Rex had borrowed a pair of binoculars from Glenn to get a better look.
“Whoa,” he said.
“What?” said Glenn, puzzled by Rex’s exclamation.
“Huh?” said Rex. “Oh, just… those are some nice tents. Check it out, Sasha.” He handed me the binoculars.
I scanned the tents, but saw nothing remarkable. But then I noticed something blue and sparkly in the river bed. It wasn’t water.
“Impressive, right?” said Rex.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Those are some impressive… tents.” I was looking at a hundred million credits worth of zontonium, easy. All we had to do is wait for the men with the lazepistols to overwhelm the separatists in the tents, unload the rest of the guns, and then land the cargo ship right on that riverbed. We could fill the cargo hold in a couple of hours and trade the zontonium for a fortune in Malarchian Standard Credits at the nearest orbiting zontonium refinery. It was almost too easy.
“Alright, people,” said Glenn. “Here’s the plan: we’re going to run down the hillside into the valley and start shooting.”
There were nods and murmurs of approval.
“Hang on,” said Rex. “That’s a terrible plan.”
“What’s wrong with it?” asked Glenn.
“All of it, starting with the running down the hillside. New plan: we walk down the hillside and have a nice chat with those separatist bastards about how we have lazepistols and they don’t.”
Enthusiastic nods and murmurs of approval. Glenn seemed unconvinced, though.
“I’m not much of a talker,” he said.
Rex sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Sir,” I began. “I strongly recommend…”
But Rex had already stood up and started down the hill. Shouts of alarm arose from the camp and several of the separatists rallied together, grabbing spears and clubs. Glenn and the others followed Rex down the hill, and I reluctantly brought up the rear.
“Hi there!” Rex called to the group. “Check this out.” He stopped a few yards in front of them and fired his lazepistol at a small rock. The rock exploded into fragments and something skittered away into the weeds. “That lizard hates me,” said Rex, watching it scurry away.
“What do you want?” demanded the man at the head of the separatist group. He was tall and awkward-looking, with a pair of weirdly prominent cheekbones that seemed to be trying to escape from his face.
“We want…” Rex started. He turned to Glenn, who was coming up from behind. “Actually, I’m not sure what we want. What do we want, Glenn?”
“We want all our stuff back,” said Glenn. “Also, we want them to stop stealing our stuff.”
&nbs
p; “Got that?” said Rex to Cheekbones. “Trentino City has lazepistols now, and they’re not taking any more of your crap.”
Cheekbones seemed confused. “I thought you wanted us to stop taking their crap.”
“No, no,” said Rex. “You stop taking their stuff; they stop taking your crap.” He held up the lazepistol for emphasis. “Also, I’m going to land my ship on that riverbed and take some of those blue shiny stones. Do we have an agreement?”
Cheekbones scowled, but he kept looking at the lazepistols our group was carrying. He seemed to realize he didn’t have much of a choice. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything he was interrupted by somebody yelling from the hilltop behind us.
We turned around to see a young man running down the hill. About halfway down he tripped and went tumbling head over heels, rolling to the bottom of the hill, where he lay unmoving for some time.
“See?” said Rex. “Bad idea.”
Eventually the man pulled himself to his feet, limped the rest of the way to our group, and then collapsed on the ground again.
“What is it, Javier?” asked Glenn. “What’s wrong?”
Javier lay on his back, clutching his ankle. “Salmon Brigade,” he gasped through gritted teeth.
“What in Space is Salmon Brigade?” asked Rex.
“Paramilitary outfit in Chicolini City,” said Glenn. “They’re plotting the overthrow of the Chicolini government.”
“So?” asked Rex. “What does that have to do with us?”
“The Chicolini government has been ruthless in weeding out elements of Salmon Brigade in Chicolini City,” replied Glenn. “We’ve heard rumors that the leadership of Salmon Brigade is looking for a new place to set up shop.”
“You think they’re coming here?” I asked.
“There aren’t many other places on Chicolini to go,” said Glenn.
“Guns,” gasped Javier. “Five thousand lazepistols… be here any minute.”
“What are you talking about, Javier?” asked Glenn.
The Chicolini Incident: A Rex Nihilo Adventure (Starship Grifters Universe Book 0) Page 2
