“Oh, Abhay,” Margaret said, “You fool. I love you for this, but you are damned if you deliver on that. Nobody can make promises like that anymore. Maybe not ever. From here on out, we all do what we have to do no matter how much love we have.”
A fist squeezed Abhay’s stomach as he choked down the truth. Margaret was right, and at some level, everyone on the ship knew it. Every Sentient Being in known space suddenly found themselves in a fight for their right to exist. Abhay wondered what that made of him, what that made of them all.
32
In three weeks, the Fleetfoot I nearly reached its destination. They made excellent time, even accounting for the time dilation effect. Reggie worked hard and managed to shave a couple weeks off their arrival time so that they would reach New Detroit in just under three months’ standard time. A lot could happen in less than three months, and a lot did. They would not know exactly what happened until they reached the other side of the blinkpoint translation.
Reggie and Gajrup worked hard on mining the stolen vessel for every spare scrap of information. The big victory came when Reggie uncovered the crew records. When Drexler studied them, he discovered that the Reptilian crew were the losers. They stayed on the ship while the meaner, stronger, faster Lizards won the privilege to go hunt Drexler and his crew on a planet they had already escaped.
It turned out that the reason the ship idled so long at Kelgar 7 was not to prepare its engines. It was waiting on its top crew. The Captain and First Officer themselves were just mounting up in a spare transport to head into the jungle to wipe out Drexler when Reggie and the BJP Commandos turned Mercenaries were busy cutting through the ranks of the initial search party.
When Drexler found this out, he could not stop laughing. He felt like the luckiest unlucky Freighter Captain alive. “What are the odds?” Drexler said, with tears rolling down his cheeks. He laughed so hard, his ribs hurt. It was a new experience, but he discovered the true meaning of “side splitting laughter.”
“Do you know what this means?” Drexler asked, grabbing Gajrup by his rounded soldiers.
Gajrup shook his head in in reply. His eyes told Drexler how crazy the words sounded.
“Look at this entry. This is for the one I told you about, the big one from the bridge supply closet. His record says he was reprimanded for smoking tobacco at Juniper station — that’s the little outback colony 80 light years from Orion.
Oh, and look at this entry. This is the little gecko-looking guy, the big guy’s buddy? What’s his name? Preek? Yeah, Preek. Preek had a chunk taken out of his arm by a Sergeant for fraternizing with Humans. The bastards almost killed him for buying beer for some Merchant Astronauts from the Three Pillars.” Drexler continued reading Preek’s disciplinary report until he found something else. “Holy shit!” Drexler yelled. “Preek speaks Mandarin! He has a Chinese pen pal! Oh my god! They ordered him to forget Mandarin! As if!”
They almost executed him for corresponding with another Merchant Astronaut. Oh, this is too rich. Who do we have that speaks Mandarin and loves beer?” Drexler thought for a moment. “Bao! Get me Engineer Bao!”
“He doesn’t drink anymore,” Gajrup said.
“Really? Since when?”
“Since our escape from Kelgar.”
“No matter. Good for him. Go get him. Tell him to bring his pipe stash and as many of those nasty spicy sausages as he can carry.”
When Gajrup sat blinking slowly, Drexler started laughing even harder. “I can tell you think I’ve gone ‘round the bend. Well, maybe I have, but you’re going to love this. Now go! That’s an order! Meet me in the Lizard Bay in no more than 30 minutes.”
They began calling the two conjoined cargo bays that held the hijacked Reptilian ship the “Lizard Bays.” Some of the more docile reptiles were allowed off the ship and into the cargo section under the watchful composite eyes of the Insectoid Winged guards left behind by Fourseven.
“Reggie,” Drexler called.
“Yes, Captain?”
“How are we for raw meat?”
“Our supplies are adequate for the needs of the flesh eaters aboard. The Galley Chief just made his report this morning. All cloning vats are at full production. Hydroponic units are doing very well also.”
“Excellent. Sounds like you know what I’m thinking.”
“Yes,” Reggie said, “You are obviously planning a party for our Reptilian guests.”
“You got it. How many herbivores aboard that ship?”
“Most of them, forty-three in total. The rest are opportunistic omnivores, just like Humans. You should get along great.”
“Oh, I’m planning on it. Tell the chief to bring enough food for forty-three vegetarian Lizards and some raw protein for the rest.”
Studying the daily ship records gave Drexler deep insight into Reptilian society. He never realized how the herbivores were second-class citizens, usually relegated to the less-esteemed jobs and lower ranks throughout the society. Their culture was based on laws of aggression. Individual value was determined by how well or how fortunate a Lizard fared in a constant daily power struggle.
The Reptiles on the stolen shuttle proved that the lower rungs of their society would be happier running freight, smoking, and eating than hunting down and killing other sentient creatures. Drexler planned to leverage that for all it was worth, but first, he had to test the hypothesis with his own life.
“The greater the risk, the greater the reward,” he said to himself, and finished sending orders to the crew to bring the necessary supplies to the Lizard bay.
Several weeks before, the hijacked Reptilian craft was an artful assemblage of gleaming white curves, both inside and out. When Drexler stepped through the iris and past the main airlock, every surface was coated with a yellowy film of nicotine. As Drexler, Engineer Bao and Gajrup made their way to the bridge, the ashtray smell grew stronger. The corridors were littered with caked ashes, cigar butts and bits of rubbish from what appeared to be food packaging.
When they arrived on the bridge, a large, scaly reptile sat in an improvised chair on the central platform. Drexler recognized him as the first Lizard to emerge from the supply closet, the Alpha. He turned slowly and tasted the air with his forked tongue.
“Why do Humans come?” he asked, voice hissing unfiltered tradespeak.
“We bring gifts,” Drexler said. “And a proposal.”
“Gifts? Do you bring the leaf?” the large Lizard replied.
“Yes, we did bring some more tobacco for you,” Drexler said with a wide grin.
“You only bring gifts that make us pliant and weak,” the Lizard said, standing. Drexler’s smile faltered and his skin prickled. “You make this ship our cage.”
“Well, if you don’t want our gifts then -—” Drexler began, before the Reptile burst forward with terrifying speed.
Drexler dangled, pressed up against the far bridge bulkhead, held in place by a claw around his neck.
“So,” Drexler wheezed, “you seem upset.”
The Reptile opened his mouth and brought it close to Drexler’s face. The breath carried an oddly sweet scent resembling fermented fruit. The inner jaw was mostly long, tapered bone with a row of small, pointed teeth near the front of the snout and a few larger teeth down the sides.
“I doubt I would taste good to you,” Drexler said, “I know you prefer fruit. How about some tasty fruit instead?” The Reptile released him and Drexler rubbed his neck and coughed. Bao and Gajrup stood wide-eyed and rooted to the spot.
“Don’t worry guys,” Drexler said, “don’t bother to help…”
The Reptile sat back down in his chair, retrieved a cigar from his disheveled uniform, lit it, and puffed. “What is your proposal?” he asked.
Drexler cleared his throat, said, “I let you go, keep the Insectoids from killing you all, and you go to work for me.”
“Why would I work for you, my enemy.”
“I thought you heard me. I keep the Insectoids from killin
g you.”
“We are not so stupid as you think. I know who you are. You are no ‘rescue force.’ You are the criminal we tried to catch. I did not kill you because you bring us the leaf.”
“Yes, I am the criminal you failed to catch. Do you know why I am a criminal? Do you know why I lie, and cheat, and steal when I have to?”
The Lizard said nothing. Drexler took that as a cue to continue.
“I do all this for the same reason you got left behind in this ship while your aggressive brothers pushed you aside. You have to ask yourself why you are twice the age and half the rank of every other officer on this ship.
We face the same problems, but I have solutions, while you are stuck. You don’t know any better but to sit there and take it. I lie, cheat and steal to get ahead, because the deck is stacked against me.”
“What deck?” the Reptile asked. “Ship deck?”
“Never mind that,” Drexler said waving his hand. “Life in space is a game, and it’s a game we can’t win because somebody else makes up the rules. Well, if you make your own rules, you get to play your own game, and then you can win. I never play the same game as everyone else if I can help it.” Drexler took the time to light a cigar of his own. “It’s time to make a new game. Don’t you see? We are the same, you and me. How long were you a Professional Astronaut?”
“Why do you not use my name?” the Reptile said.
“What?” Drexler asked.
“My name. You never asked my name.”
He realized the Lizard was right. Even when he looked up the records, he didn’t bother to retain this Reptile’s name. He retained Preek’s name, but not the big Lizard in front of him. It was because Drexler saw the Lizard as just another game piece, and the Lizard knew it.
“What your name, then?”
“I have been a soldier my entire adult life. A soldier is what they told me to be. They told me to be a Trader for the past,” he paused, calculating, “twenty of your Trade Union years. This is a long time.”
“I have been a trader my whole life,” Drexler said. “I was born in space on my ship.”
Drexler sat on a console and smoked. The reptile did the same, sometimes looking his way, other times at the ceiling through a cloud of smoke. Finally, the Reptile said, “My name is Schaal,” and left it at that.
Drexler let the comfortable silence stand between them. “What do you think about my proposal now?”
“I think it is death. If the Insects do not kill us, your Trade Union will.”
“Why would the Trade Union kill a Trader? You are a registered Merchant Astronaut. So is your ship, officially. They can’t kill you. They can’t even arrest you without formal charges.”
“Do you forget this ship is armed? Do you forget we took you prisoner?”
“You? Did you do that, or did your commanders? Seems to me, they broke the law. You didn’t have much choice, and when you did get the opportunity, you chose not to fight.” Drexler stopped short of the fact that, if the Reptiles ever got hold of Schaal’s crew, they would surely be executed for their failures. He guessed that Schaal knew this too, by his conspicuous avoidance of its mention. “You and the crew who stayed behind, bravely disobeyed illegal orders. If you agree to carry supplies and materiel for the Trade Union, they will treat you like heroes. All I have to do is report your brave actions when we get to new Detroit.”
“Captain,” Reggie broke in over the open channel. “We have arrived in the proximity of New Detroit.”
Drexler detected an odd tone in Reggie’s voice, but his excitement for the safe arrival eclipsed everything else. “Finally,” he said. “Let us know when we are within shuttle range.”
Turning to Gajrup and Bao, Drexler said “Break out the leaf and the food for our new friends.”
Bao broke the stasis seal on his sausages, and the smell drew some reptiles from the hallway. Drexler rummaged through the food crate and came up with some heirloom strawberries, and some sugar vine from the Forest Planet.
“I think we have something for everyone here,” Drexler said. “I understand you are an herbivore.”
The big Lizard’s posture changed. His shoulders fell, and he allowed his arms to hang freely at his side. “How did you know that?” Schaal asked.
“I make it my business to know about the people I do business with,” Drexler replied.
Bao was busy serving spicy sausage to the carnivorous Reptiles.
“Hot?” one of the Lizards said, after taking a tentative bite. “At home this is mild, but the meat is sweet, and the spice has much flavor. What animal, this?”
“The meat is called ‘pork,’” Bao explained, “and it comes from a four-legged Old Earth animal called a pig.”
Two more Lizards sidled up and formed a semicircle around the nervous Bao as he handed out food. “Pig, pig, pig,” the Lizards said in chorus, practicing the word. “Pig is good,” the first Lizard said. Bao grinned and ate with them.
“Yes, pig is good,” Bao confirmed.
Gajrup unsealed the strawberries and held them out to Schaal. “I am also a vegetarian,” Gajrup said.
“My species only eats meat in one season. We don’t like it other times,” Schaal said. “What Human species are you?”
“Humans are only one species,” Gajrup replied.
“But your coloring is different. Your hair, your shapes. How are you same species?” Schaal asked, placing a strawberry in his mouth.
“Humans are unusual in this way,” Gajrup said. “I am only an engineer. Our Doctor can explain it better. I don’t understand it fully myself, but there is very little genetic difference among Humans.”
“Not so with us. My world has many different species that can only mate with same. Do your offspring mate with your Captain’s offspring?”
Drexler suppressed a chuckle.
“Yes,” Gajrup said. “Yes they could.”
“Could?” Schaal asked, “You have no offspring?”
Drexler took a turn fielding questions.“No. No kids for me or Gajrup.”
“But you both look mating age Humans. Humans are strange,” Schaal said, reaching for another strawberry.
“My friend,” Drexler said, “I could not agree with you more.”
“Why do you not want to agree with me more?” Schaal asked.
Drexler palmed his face, “That was an idiom, an expression.” Schaal still looked puzzled. “It is symbolic speech.”
The big reptile said nothing, but took a handful of strawberries this time. “Do you have more of these?” he asked.
“I think we can scare some up,” Drexler said.
Schaal held a strawberry up to examine it. “On my world, vegetables do not feel fear.”
Gajrup lost it. When he recovered, he explained, “That was another form of symbolic speech. The Captain means that he will search for some strawberries for you. Earth fruits also do not feel fear, so far as we know.”
“Good,” Schaal said, “It is not my time to eat things that feel fear.” He swallowed more strawberries then declared, “Humans are confusing.”
Drexler helped himself to some strawberries. More Reptiles filtered through the bridge when word went out that there was exotic food on the ship. It seemed that sailors of every species had many similarities. They ate when they could, especially when the fare was new and strange.
Before leaving the Reptilian bridge for his own, Drexler turned to Schaal, said, “There is more of this out there if you take me up on my offer. You will be free to earn as much you want. You can buy all the strawberries and tobacco you want. I will even give you the seeds to grow your own. Think about it.”
He ordered Gajrup and Bao to stay behind to play host to the fruit, spicy sausage and tobacco party. They didn’t seem to mind. He overheard Gajrup discussing Reptilian fusion reactors with one of the smaller, meat-eating Lizards. Schaal sat with what appeared to be a pensive aspect.
Drexler couldn’t get to the bridge fast enough. Reggie was oddly
silent on every channel. The bridge doors slid open with a slight hiss. No motion from the crew greeted him, but the air was alive with a tangle of voices transmitted over local space channels. Everyone stood facing the view port. Drexler joined them.
Thousands of ships surrounded New Detroit like a cloud of flies. Transports and freighters of every size and variety, fuel tankers and luxury cruisers from a hundred different worlds or more, all floated aimlessly in space. Some clumped together to form flotillas, while many others stood off from the rest, venting plasma and casting off broken parts.
“Refugees,” Mumlo said. It was the first word he’d said to his Captain in weeks. “The Lizards attack everywhere.”
“How many?” Drexler asked through a tight throat.
“Millions,” Mumlo replied, his normally booming voice reduced to a soft rumble. “Tens of millions. They are in bad shape.”
The longer he stood there, the more he began to pick out snatches of words over the open comm chatter. Voices expressed universal desperation. People begged and pleaded for supplies, others negotiated trades. People asked about their loved ones. Some described in sickening detail how much they lost, the ships they saw destroyed, the people who died when the Reptilians attacked. New Detroit had already expended its food reserves supplying the refugees. They struggled to keep up.
“Hail New Detroit,” Drexler said. “And get a handle on this chatter. I want a full crew on the comms, as many as you can spare. Start taking names. Find out who’s who out there.”
“We have hailed New Detroit,” Mumlo replied. “We are in a long line.”
Drexler folded his arms across his chest and studied the chaos for a while. His crew took up their orders slowly, and Mumlo rode herd on them until the flight bridge returned to order.
“I will be in my cabin,” Drexler announced.
His climb through the tractor decks to the Captain’s Quarters revealed the general state of shock among the crew. Talk of the refugee cloud was everywhere. Where most saw tragedy, Drexler saw opportunity.
“Reggie,” Drexler said as soon as the cabin doors closed, “Find a way to signal Harvard, any way you can.”
Fleetfoot Interstellar: Fleetfoot Interstellar Series, Book 1 Page 27
