by Gorg Huff
Later, thinking about it, she realized that her parents were not the sort of important that the older girls were talking about. They weren’t political, just working stiffs with decent jobs.
At this point, Jenny wasn’t entirely sure what her name was back then. Johanson or Johenry or something that started with a “yo,” anyway.
∞ ∞ ∞
Danny was pleased with himself about offering the Parthians. They, at least, wouldn’t be involved in any plots. “So it’s Starvokx and Startak. They’ll be happy with it. It’s an honor to be chosen as cadre to a new clan.”
This was, it turned out, a very old and hallowed tradition among the Parthians. When a new clan was started, the parent or allied clans gave of their members to cement alliances, as well as to keep the young breeders safe until they could breed and raise their own workers.
Location: Arachne, Skull System Orbit
Standard Date: 01 06 632
Jenny took the glass of green goo with black specks on top. The Parthian Banger was part of the duties of a human clan breeder. Danny drank them to keep the Parthians comfortable and Rosita had done it on the station. Goldgok told her about it.
Jenny was insistent that she was going to do her job. But just because she was insistent that she was going to do her job didn’t mean that she was looking forward to it.
She grabbed the glass and chugged. Her mouth was on fire. She grabbed the milk and chugged that too. The fire wasn’t out. There were still hot spots in her left cheek and under her tongue.
“More milk,” she croaked, and John set another glass of milk before her. This time she didn’t chug. She swished it around. She had to get the milk everywhere to put out the fires. John was looking amused, the meanie.
“You know, I could have done that for you,” he said.
“No. It’s my clan, so it’s my job.”
Tanya was watching Jenny and smiling a little, and Jenny felt herself smiling in response. Tanya understood. “You’ll make a good captain of the Arachne,” Jenny said.
“So will you, Jenny, once you’re old enough,” Tanya said.
“So now we bring over Starvokx and Startak and officially adopt them into the clan.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Starvokx and Startak found the new ship pleasant. They worked on the repairs and upgrades so they knew where things were, but now it smelled like home, and Arachne greeted them like clan members instead of guests.
Arachne also spoke as a neuter female, but there was something almost breeder-like in her tones. When asked, she explained, “I am always in contact with Jenny Starchild.”
Startak nodded its eyestalks. “The pictures of Arachne show a half human, half spider. They are really quite attractive, for a human.”
Jenny, now that she had the Parthians aboard, intended to introduce them to prospective crew members and watch the reactions. For the moment, though, Jenny still had questions. “How am I going to pay all of you?”
“What do you mean?” Tanya asked.
“Well, it’s not like I’m gonna turn pirate. And I don’t have any money. There was some loot in Rosalyn’s quarters, but I can’t run the ship on that forever. Arachne says we’ll be broke after we buy reloads and restock, or close to it. The way they do it here is the crew gets a stake in the prizes, but there won’t be any prizes.”
“For myself,” Tanya said, “I’m not worried about it. Remember, I’m rich, Jenny. But you’re right. The military is generally supported by taxes, but who’s going to pay you taxes? Danny?”
“Clan Gold is a recognized clan, but I don’t know if it has that sort of resources,” Starvokx said.
“What about the council of clans?” Tanya asked.
“It’s possible,” Starvokx said. “But I don’t really know that much about clan politics. Never cared all that much, as long as I had a job to do.”
“Well,” said Startak. “It was a really big scandal when the Fly Catcher returned and told all those horrible lies about Goldgok and Danny Gold, but then . . . Well, never mind all that. Danny Gold has a good reputation, but I don’t know what they are going to make of the Star Clan.”
“I wonder what happened to the Fly Catcher. You think they just ran off like Goldgok says?” Jenny asked.
“I have no idea,” Startak said. “But I never thought Captain Kesskox was as bad as Goldgok thought. I mean, you should read some of the things that the clans get up to . . .”
“Oh, don’t get it started. Startak reads the Parthia gossip,” Starvokx said.
“Well, it’s fun,” Startak insisted. “I don’t believe the half of it, but it’s entertaining.”
Starvokx’s eyestalks wobbled like drunken spacers leaving a bar, and Startak made as though to hit him with her left mid-arm.
“You were saying about the Fly Catcher,” Jenny said oppressively.
“Well, Breeder, I don’t think it was as bad as everyone thought. After all, you drank a Banger to make us comfortable. I bet that’s what it was doing.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Jenny acknowledged. She never met Captain Kesskox. “So you think the Fly Catcher will go back to Parthia, even after they find out Danny Gold went back?”
“Where else can they go?” asked Starvokx.
Chapter 32
The origins of the Parthian Banger are in a concoction developed even before the Parthians first went into space. It was developed in the hinterlands of Parthia, where they were used by the Parthian equivalent of fur trappers. Introduced into the space colonies after the loss of the first Gok station, they were used but had, at best, mixed results.
The introduction of trade with the wider universe offered several new products, and the modern Parthian Banger developed out of decades of experimentation. Fog bugs, for instance, have a spicy mint flavor to humans and an aroma that is mildly titillating to Parthians. The other ingredients all have other uses.
On the Parthian Banger, Zheckgoks, Standard Date 646
Note: On the Parthian Banger is still banned on parts of Parthia and Canova.
Location: Ferguson Outsystem
Standard Date: 01 06 632
Captain Kesskox listened to the monkey in something close to shock. Danny Gold was a human, and had been in a position to take and keep a hold full of goods. There was no way that a human could resist that sort of temptation. Besides, without someone drinking the Bangers, Checkgok should have gone crazy months ago.
“What are we going to do?” asked Gokkox, Fly Catcher’s first mate. Gokkox was her partner when they drank the Bangers that were necessary to keep the crew from going insane.
No one in all the years since the first Parthian Banger was drunk had investigated how they worked.
For about the same reasons that Victorian sex manuals weren’t the results of rigorous research.
Parthians found the whole matter embarrassing and more than a little disgusting. The Parthian biochemistry that normally produced the scent was the biochemistry of sexual arousal.
Breeders of both genders are pretty much always horny. That’s their job, after all. The effect on a Parthian neuter who drinks a Banger is to make it not just drunk, but drunk and horny. That’s frustrating as hell if just one Parthian drinks the Banger.
But if a male neuter and a female neuter drink it together, it can be a lot of fun.
Perverted fun, in Parthian terms.
But still fun.
Kesskox and Gokkox had fallen into the habit of drinking them together because having a drunk, horny Parthian with nothing to do with the horny can be dangerous. And, frankly, is cruel to the Parthian.
It wasn’t something either of them was proud of, but they justified their actions because it was necessary for the welfare of the crew.
“I don’t know, Gokkox.”
“We have the ship. We could just leave.” Gokkox didn’t sound enthusiastic.
“And go where?” Kesskox asked. “Besides, you think the crew would go along with that? We’re part of the Kox clan.”
&nb
sp; Gokkox’s mouth-hand twisted sardonically. The truth was the Kox clan showed little regard for the crew of the Fly Catcher. It wasn’t big enough to support a true subclan with breeders of its own like the stations, and even if no one talked about it, everyone knew what that meant. “Yes, Skipper. I think they would go with us.”
“It doesn’t matter, Gokkox. I’ve done a lot of things in my life, but I wouldn’t do that to our crew. If I did, what would the rest of it be for?
“Things were going so well until we got here and heard about the Pandora’s return. Our holds are full and we were going to bring great profit to the clan. Maybe even get some respect.” Kesskox let her eyestalks droop in defeat.
Gokkox looked at her and said, “You’re not thinking of doing something stupid, are you, Skipper?”
The truth was that Kesskox was thinking it might be better for everyone if she got the Fly Catcher back to Parthia and expiated the sins of the crew by suicide. The Parthians, as a race, weren’t any fonder of suicide than humans were. Sacrifice for the good of clan was one thing, but skipping out on your duty to clan by killing yourself . . . that was disgraceful.
She looked back at her long-time friend and occasional lover, and shrugged her eyestalks. “I guess not. But you do realize that it might not matter? Depending on what Gold and that little prig Checkgok said about us, the clan may decide to turn us over to the Zheck clan to use as fertilizer.”
“So we go home. I’ll call the crew together and let them know what’s going on.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Gokkox’s announcement was met first with silence, then with some of the crew proposing that they take the Fly Catcher and make a run for it. Others didn’t like that idea and Gokkox was quick to point out that the Skipper was taking them home, no matter.
It was a grimly determined crew that passed through Canova and saw the fort under construction. It would guard the jump that was one jump out from Canova on the Ferguson route. They were stopped and questioned, but apparently everything wasn’t in place yet.
“The Jackson-Cordoba Trading Company has acquired the Canova system,” Senior Captain Herbert Jackson-Cordoba said, “and with the recent Drake incursions to consider, we are taking prudent and necessary measures to insure that Parthia is safe.”
“Does the council of clans know about this?” Kesskox asked.
“The JCTC is not answerable to the council of clans,” Herbert said. “Though I imagine they know about the fort we’re building in the Parthian outsystem. I must say, your council of clans has been taking an increasingly belligerent attitude since that Cybrant hit the system. You would be wise to use whatever influence you have with them to get them to see reason, else you won’t be leaving Parthia on a trading voyage any time soon.”
This is just getting better and better, Kesskox thought as she signed off.
They got a decent look at the Parthia outsystem fort as they went by. It wasn’t all that impressive, but it probably didn’t need to be. Fly Catcher was the only Parthian ship. At least, the only ship that had a Parthian crew.
Location: Parthia Insystem
Standard Date: 01 17 632
The message was curt. Captain Kesskox was to report to the council of clans on the day after tomorrow to answer for its actions. The follow-up was even more curt. “Get your perverted ass to Fkis Two to talk to our clan elders before you say anything to anyone else.”
Kesskox pointed an eyestalk at Gokkox. “Well, that was to the point.”
“You want me to come?”
“That would hardly help, would it?”
“No, but it would make me feel better. I hate seeing you face this alone.”
∞ ∞ ∞
The shuttle ride over was silent. Spacer Tokkox was unwilling even to bend an eyestalk in Kesskox’s direction. Nor did anyone seem particularly anxious to see or acknowledge Kesskox on her way to the Kox section of the station. Once she got to the room, she was directed to a stand with a peremptory wave of a mouth-hand.
Kesskox looked around and saw Siskox in a corner. It was Siskox, many years ago, who explained the function of the Banger to a much younger Kesskox while they were both working on insystem ships.
The silence got long and Kesskox found that she wasn’t in the mood to wait. “Well, what is it you wanted to see me about?” she asked in the tones of a breeder.
“You are not a breeder!” Breeder male Tetkox screeched.
“No, but I’m all my crew have had. For years now.” Kesskox rose to her full height. “You’re going to do what you’re going to do, and I don’t really care anymore. I guess that does make me a cheskek. So maybe Checkgok was right.”
“Goldgok!” someone clicked.
“Goldgok?” Kesskox sank down on the stand in shock, then she started to laugh. “I bet that was a comedown for that prig. Smart move, though, on the part of Clan Zheck.” Her eyestalks straightened in sudden surmise and she said. “Did they go all the way? Did they propose Gold as a clan?”
“Clan Gold is a member of the council of clans,” Tetkox said haughtily. “Human or not, it’s a true breeder, concerned for its clan, adopted as well as born.”
Slowly, Kesskox turned both its eyestalks to focus on the little male, and the effect of the Bangers she had consumed over the years made her see the male as attractive. That just made her angrier. “That, Tetkox, puts him one up on you, for sure. Where was the concern for my crew when we were sent out without a breeder?”
The meeting went downhill from there. In fact, by the time it was over, Kesskox was convinced that the only reason she wasn’t ordered to kill herself was that the clan was ordered by the council of clans not to let her.
Location: Zheck Clan House, Parthia
“We need that ship!” Zhecktiit lifted her mid-arms in emphasis. She was a breeder female and unusually large even for that largest of Parthian classes.
“We aren’t going to get it,” Zhecktitick pointed its eyes at the ceiling of the large chamber. Translucent cloths billowed out from the rounded ceiling, tacked in place at the apex and around the edges of the oblong chamber. The human-made lights showed through the cloths, bathing the room in shifting light and shadows. The birthing pools were just the other side of the left passage and the bubbling of the artificial streams provided a gentle background for this decidedly ungentle chat. It brought its eyes back to Zhecktiit. “Half the clans are blaming us for the belligerent stance that the Jackson-Cordobas are adopting.” It pointed to a screen on the chamber wall with its mouth-hand. The screen showed a pattern of lights and symbols that would be utter gibberish to a human, but to Parthians was an elegant, even in its way beautiful, analysis of group dynamics.
“And just how are we to get to the materials Danny Gold found out in the Oort cloud without it?” Zhecktiit asked, her mouth-hand twisting in agitation.
Zhecktitick nodded its eyestalks. “I’m not disagreeing that we need the ship,” the non-breeder male, who was the clan’s senior political analyst, agreed sadly. “I just don’t see any way of getting it. You know, and I know, that they are going to claim that the Fly Catcher’s return proves their argument.”
“It won’t stand up under examination before the council of clans. You know that we can force the crew of the Fly Catcher to tell the truth with what we know.” Zhecktiit was referring to the knowledge of the effect of Bangers—rather, the effect of the lack of Bangers—on Parthian spacers. It was common knowledge that they were used among the spacers, but the absolute need for them was not understood.
“No one is going to thank us for bringing that out,” Zhecktitick said. “And, frankly, I’m not sure how much it helps our case if the captain of the Fly Catcher was doing what it was doing out of concern for its crew and clan members. That goes a long way toward justifying its actions.”
“Nothing can—” Zhecktiit started to say, but then stopped. After their talks with Professor Schmitz of the Gold Clan, they went through the records and examined reports. Extended lack of the
aroma of breeders led to acute paranoia and murderous rages. There were several deaths in the early days of space exploration, to such an extent that the exploration of the Parthian system had been put back for at least a century. The problem wasn’t as bad on Parthia itself, which was a populous planet, and on which there were many sources of the chemical cocktail. The loss of the first Gok station with all hands was just the most glaring example.
“Yes.” Zheckfiss, their master trader, joined the conversation. “If you’re going to send Parthians out into space, then someone has to drink Bangers. And if you don’t have a human to do it, you need someone else.” Then it added, a bit pointedly, “Or send a breeder.”
“Your point is taken,” Zhecktiit said. “But what can we do?”
Zheckfiss twisted its eyestalks. “I’m not altogether sure. But I am convinced that embarrassing the Kox clan just to score points is not our best strategy.” It shifted its left eyestalk to point at Zhecktitick. “Partly because it won’t work. Yes, we can make them look bad, but we won’t make ourselves look good in the doing, and the Jkap will have their commentators asserting how vindictive we are all over the news nets.”
“So we should just roll over?” Zhecktitick asked. “We are owed a great deal of money and can probably force the Kox to pay us.”
“Yes, we can force them to, but what if we make a deal? You know that Danny Gold installed one of Doctor Schmitz’s artificial-brain mining robot managers in the Oort cloud. And we can make a great deal if we can go pick up the refined metals.”
“Yes, yes, so you have said,” Zhecktiit said. “Assuming that the Jackson-Cordobas are wrong and the thing hasn’t gone crazy.”
“I think it’s worth a try. If we can get the Fly Catcher,” Zheckfiss said.
“And we might be able to. I have a source on the Fly Catcher’s crew. Nothing inimical to the crew or the Kox clan, but it told me that they doubt that the Fly Catcher will be allowed to leave until the JCTC gets the concessions it’s demanding,” Zhecktitick said. “That right there seriously diminishes the value of the Fly Catcher.”
“How much?”
