by M. D. Cooper
She connected to the bridge immediately, and heard Porty say, “See, just a few seconds. I needed to make sure the AI couldn’t use the external comms—just in case she got nervous, you know?”
“OK,” Bimmy said, his tone suspicious. “Just keep an eye on her. We can always just pull the core, too.”
“Yeah, but this ship has never run without an AI; I’d have to reroute a lot of stuff and use systems that haven’t been put through their paces since it was built.”
“Whatever,” Bimmy grunted. “Just stay on course.”
Glad that Bimmy was going to leave it at that, Girl checked on Laurie and Barney only to find the engineering bay empty.
Crap! Where the heck?
She searched the ship and found the pair in the Rec Room, watching some vids while complaining about what a mess the place was.
Of course they’d turned off the cleaning bots so they could watch their vids in peace—much like her crew often did. It was a part of the reason why the room was such a disaster.
Porty gave a mental shrug.
Porty pursed his lips.
Girl wondered what that meant. He seemed to feel bad about whatever Bimmy had in his pouch; which she supposed made sense. It was probably something the dwarf had stolen from the Disknee world.
These really aren’t very good dwarves.
Girl accessed the drive reactor cooling systems and altered the readings on the secondary temperature sensors. It would turn up in the logs that she’d done it, but the dwarves wouldn’t have time to see that before they got a visit from the HullCrawlr.
While the reactor’s monitoring systems tried to determine which was the correct set of readings, she opened the rear airlock and moved the HullCawlr into a dark corner of the engineering bay.
A minute later, the drive monitoring systems gave up trying to tell which readings were correct, and went into an emergency shutdown while recalibration routines ran.
Girl smirked. Stopped us cold.
“What the hell?” Bimmy shouted at Porty. “What did you do?”
“Hey! Why are you always blaming me?” Porty asked. “It’s the reactor. It’s getting bad readings from the cooling vanes and went into emergency shutdown.”
Slobs, Girl muttered.
The pair of dwarves rode the lift down to the ship’s lower level and rushed into the engineering bay as fast as their stubby legs could carry them.
Once they were in the bay, Girl shut down the lift and ignited the HullCrawlr’s plasma torches.
“What the hell is that?” Barney said as the two flames came to life in the dark corner of the engineering bay.
Laurie took a step back as the bot advanced on the two dwarves. “It’s a hull bot.”
“Shut down, bot,” Barney ordered, but the HullCrawlr continued moving forward on its six articulated legs.
“Dammit, the thing’s not listening. It must be that AI!” Laurie exclaimed.
Girl had disconnected the lower deck’s Link access, so Laurie’s message went nowhere.
“No one can hear you,” Girl said ominously. “No one will know what happens next…”
Girl gave a mental harrumph.
The two dwarves in the engineering bay were still backing away slowly from the HullCrawlr. Too slowly for Girl’s liking. Barney probably thought he could disable the crawler somehow. She worried that maybe he could, and decided to amp things up a bit.
She disabled all but the emergency lighting and rushed the bot forward. Barney let out a shriek and backpedaled. Girl was surprised to see Laurie hold firm for a moment before the heat from the plasma torches hit her.
Seemed like Barney was all bluster.
Barney ran from the bay, back into the lower passageway. He hit the call button on the lift and turned to Laurie, who was running toward him.
“It won’t come! We’re doomed!”
Laurie shook her head. “I should never have agreed to come on this job with such a spineless fool.”
The bot appeared at the end of the corridor, and Barney gave another shriek before darting down a side passage.
The one that ended at the airlock.
Laurie pursed her lips for a moment, but followed after when the bot rushed forward once more.
“In here!” Barney called from within the airlock.
“Barney! That’s the airlock! We’ll be trapped.”
“Like we’re not already?” Barney asked.
Laurie didn’t move, and Barney hit the button to close the inner airlock door.
“What? You’d just leave me in the hall?” Laurie asked as she ran down the corridor, huffing and panting as the airlock door slid shut.
She made it, barely squeezing through at the last moment, and fell to the deck inside the airlock, gasping for breath.
“You need to get in better shape,” Girl admonished as the door closed, sealing the two dwarves in the airlock. “Here’s how it’s going to go. You’re going to stay in here and not touch a thing. If you do, I’ll open the outer door before you can say ‘comb my beard’. Do you understand?”
Barney and Laurie nodded silently, and Girl turned her attention back to the bridge, where Bimmy was pacing back and forth.
“They can’t hear you,” Girl said over the bridge speakers. “They’ve left the ship.”
“What do you mean?” Bimmy said, a flicker of fear showing on his face. “How did they ‘leave the ship’?”
Girl laughed, her voice sounding like a crazed titter—at least that’s what she was going for. It may have sounded more like a scared rabbit.
“I gave them a hand.”
Porty looked worried, and Girl messaged him privately.
“Porty,” Bimmy said. “Use the box on her.”
Porty nodded and brought out the box, then pushed the button on top.
Girl felt a stab of fear pass through her.
Will Porty betray me?
But then nothing happened,
and she laughed again. “Nice try Bimmy, but you’ve messed with the wrong Girl. I’m not so easily defeated!”
Girl liked the feeling that was flowing through her. She was in control! For once, Girl was calling the shots.
Barney turned on Porty. “What did you do? Give me that!”
The lead dwarf snatched the black box from Porty’s hands and mashed his finger into the button.
“Why isn’t it working?” he shouted as Girl continued to giggle.
Porty threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know! She must have some sort of secondary system that’s not shutdownable.”
Bimmy threw the black box on the deck and took a step toward the door. “Well I’m going to go pull this bitch’s core, then we’ll be done with her.”
The bridge’s door opened to reveal the AutoMopr, behind which were two of the general service bots. Bimmy tried to push past them, but the AutoMopr smacked its long mop handle over Bimmy’s head.
“Ow!” Bimmy shouted. “That hurts!”
He took a step back and turned to Porty. “Do something, Porty!”
Porty leaned back in the seat and folded his hands behind his head. “Oh, I am. I’m enjoying watching you get your come-up-ins.”
“It’s ‘comeuppance’,” Girl corrected, as the WetMopr advanced on Bimmy, forcing him against the bulkhead.
“Really?” Porty asked. “Are you sure? I’ve never heard anyone say ‘comeuppance’.”
“Yeah,” Girl replied with a snort as the AutoMopr switched to the dripping wet end of its mop, and smushed it into Bimmy’s face while the dwarf sputtered with impotent rage. “Well, look at who you hang out with.”
“Good point,” Porty admitted.
“You won’t get away with this!” Bimmy shouted. “When he learns that you’re not stopping at Nowhere-in-Particular Station, he’ll come after you. You’ll never make it back to Neverevereverland Station alive!”
“Who is ‘he’?” Girl asked.
“Him!” Bimmy shouted.
“Who is him, then?”
“He’s Him, that’s who,” Bimmy replied.
Girl sighed. “You’re no help. Who is he talking about, Porty?”
“I’m not sure,” Porty said, his small bushy brow furrowing deeply. “I’ve heard of a Him, but I don’t know who Him is. Though I have heard that he is bad news.”
“Is he a he, or just Him?” Girl asked.
“He’s Him,” Bimmy grunted. “And when Him, learns what you’ve done, he’ll come after you with everything Him has.”
“This has not become any clearer,” Girl said.
Bimmy pushed the WetMopr’s mop out of his face. “Gah, that thing stinks. No wonder this ship is such a mess. Look. Him is powerful—more than a match for you, Girl. He wants what’s in this satchel, and he’ll get it no matter what.”
“What is in the satchel?” Girl asked.
Bimmy shook his head and clutched the satchel to his chest.
“Any idea?” Girl asked Porty.
“No,” Porty shrugged. “Something he stole from the Disknee World, though. That’s what Bimmy’s been up to for the last year. Making some extra cash on the side.”
“Yeah, and this one’s the big payoff,” Bimmy entreated. “With Laurie and Barney gone, we’ll both get a serious payout, Porty. Shut down this AI, and we’ll be set for life.”
Girl whacked Bimmy on the head with the mop handle again and then poked him in the gut. He reached for his head with one hand and his stomach with the other. With his grip on the satchel loosened, Girl slipped the mop handle under the strap and gave a deft pull, sliding the satchel off his arm and flipping it through the air toward Porty.
“Careful!” Bimmy shouted as the pouch flew through the air, and Porty reached up to catch it, just barely snagging the strap with his fingers.
Bimmy lunged forward, but Girl flipped the mop around and pushed it into the dwarf’s face once more. As the angry dwarf struggled to breathe around the wet mophead, Porty opened up the satchel.
“Hmm…” he muttered as he drew out a carefully wrapped bundle. Girl watched with bated breath—well, she would have if she breathed—as Porty unwrapped the bundle.
When the contents were finally exposed, Porty’s breathing came in rapid bursts, and he started to stutter nonsensical words like ‘shitty mcshitfuck’.
“I don’t get it,” Girl said. “They’re shoes. Bimmy was smuggling shoes?”
Porty was still stuttering.
Girl pulled the mophead away from Bimmy’s face, whereupon the dwarf began to gasp for breath.
“Why did you steal shoes?”
“These aren’t just any shoes,” Porty said in a whisper. “They’re some of the most powerful artifacts on the Disknee World™.”
“Artifacts?” Girl asked. “Disknee World is a theme world, it doesn’t have ‘artifacts’.”
Porty shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Girl. The Disknee World™ has long been a repository for some of the most advanced tech in existence.”
Bimmy chuckled. “Makes for a good hiding spot.”
“OK,” Girl said, still doubtful about the ‘advanced tech’ involved in a pair of shoes. “So if they’re so special, what do they do?”
“They turn whoever wears them into CinderellaNot-TM,” Porty said as he pulled out one of the shoes, which appeared to be made of a near-perfectly-clear material.
“Cinderella? The girl from the ancient story?” Girl asked.
“Yeah,” Bimmy said. “You put the shoes on, and poof! You’re CinderellaNot-TM, all ready for the big ball.”
“Riiiight,” Girl drawled. “OK, is this some sort of gag sim you’re recording? Hi, audience! Boy, they sure got me!”
“He’s not kidding,” Porty said. “These things are powerful.”
“Then you should put them on,” Girl suggested.
Porty held up his hands. “Oh, heeeell no!”
“Look,” Bimmy said, pushing back on the mophead. “It doesn’t matter if you believe it. It matters that Him does. Him believes in those shoes very much, and he’s prepared to pay ten billion credits for them.”
“Ten billion…” Girl whispered.
“Yeah, ten billion,” Bimmy replied. “We could split it three ways. You could bugger off and never see those morons you fly around with, Girl.”
Those words incensed Girl more than she expected. Sure, her crew was slovenly, rude, and exceptionally strange, but they were her crew. They had taken care of her, and she was their home. There was no way she’d betray them for a thieving dwarf.
She directed the WetMopr to whack Bimmy on the head repeatedly, and then it pushed the mophead into his face once more.
“Girl! Don’t kill him!” Porty exclaimed.
A minute later, Bimmy’s flailing grew weak, and he slumped to the floor. Girl directed the AutoMopr out of the room and sent in two of the general bots. They picked up the unconscious dwarf and carried him to the Rec Room.
“What are we going to do now?” Porty asked.
“Well, it’s going to take thirty minutes for the reactor core to reset. Once it does, we go back to Neverevereverland Station and hand over those slippers and dwarves to the authorities.”
Porty paled, “Uhhh…any chance you can not do that? The Fairly Goodmothers are going to lose their shit—they’ll take this to the Council. I really don’t want to go before the Council.”
“What else do we do?” Girl asked.
“We could deliver the shoes to Him, collect the money, and go our separate ways,” Porty suggested.
“And what happens if the FGs find out about this?”
“Don’t call the Fairly Goodmothers that,” Porty hissed. “They hate it.”
“They don’t seem very much like good mothers.”
Porty gave a rueful laugh. “Depends on the day.”
“Well, I—” Girl began, but then stopped as a tra
nsmission came in. “Uh oh, it’s your friend, Him.”
“Him is not my friend!” Porty exclaimed. “What’s he saying?”
Girl piped it through onto the Rec Room’s audible systems.
“Why have you gone off course, Bimmy? I’m on a tight schedule, and you’re going to be late. Respond, Bimmy, before I fly over there myself and slap you into the next star system.”
“Gee,” Porty whispered. “Him sure sounds mad.”
“The transmission didn’t come from Nowhere-in-Particular Station, either,” Girl said. “It came from…weird…nowhere in particular.”
“I thought you just said that it didn’t come from there,” Porty replied.
“Uh…yeah, I mean it didn’t come from anywhere I can see.”
“Oh. Could it be a stealth ship?” Porty asked.
Girl wished she could shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never not-seen a stealthed ship before. I guess it could be.”
“Shit-shit-shit…shit,” Porty said. “If he has a stealthed ship shadowing us, we can’t get away.”
“What if we tell him the truth?” Girl asked.
“The truth!” Porty exclaimed. “Like how we took out Bimmy?”
“Yeah, the whole thing. Look, Bimmy’s not dead, and we have the glass shoes. Everything’s fine.”
Porty turned and stared up into one of Girl’s optics. “I thought you didn’t want to steal or double-cross your crew.”
“I don’t, but I also don’t want to get blown out of the black by Him.”
“And what about the Fairly Goodmothers?” Porty asked. “When they discover that we gave away CinderellaNot-TM’s Glass ShoesAlso-Not-TM, we’re toast.”
Girl chuckled. “Then we don’t give them to Him.”
“I’m so confused right now.”
DECEPTION
“Uhhh…this is Porty calling Him,” Porty said a few minutes later from the bridge’s comm systems. “We’re having an engine issue…our pretend reason for a test drive of this ship turned into a real problem. We won’t be able to tock at Nowhere-in-Particular Station on schedule.”
A few seconds later, a reply came back over the comms. “What do you mean you can’t tock? That’s not an alligator joke is it? You know how I feel about that!”
