Recycled

by Selina Rosen

  Drewcila glared back at him defiantly."You killed Pristin," she accused.

  Zarco looked confused, and Atario moved through the crowd to whisper to the king.

  The king nodded, and then said, "You actually expected me to take orders from an ugly blue dwarf with three legs?"

  "That wasn't a third leg, you dumb ass!" Drew hissed. She flung her head wildly.

  "I'm giving you one chance to surrender, then I'm going to order my men to open fire."

  "You shouldn't threaten me, Zarco. You should never threaten me. NOW!"

  She fired her weapon, putting a bolt through the nearest guard's head as Arcadia slapped out with her tail, taking Zarco's feet out and sending him falling right into Dylan's waiting arms. Dylan quickly twisted the king's arm behind his back with one hand, and held a blaster to his head with the other.

  Drew laughed maniacally."Now who's winning? Back the fuck up, all you flunky-nobility pieces of shit! The common folks will always kick your asses, and do you know why?" she asked Atario, who only shook his head silently."Because the poor have nothing to do to pass the time but fuck, so there are always going to be more of them. And because they're always going to be trying to get all the cool shit you have."

  Zarco glared at Drew."Drewcila, I demand . . ."

  "Zarco, darling," Drewcila drawled, "you really should have gone for the flowers. We are way past the point of you demanding anything from me. Gee! You give a guy the best years of your life and a big chunk of your brain, and how does he repay you? By locking you up." She looked at the guards as a group again."Now I'm going to tell you one more time. Back the fuck off!"

  They did then. As a group they ran down the hall in the opposite direction.

  "Pick a door, any door on the right side of the hall," Drew said. Her vision was blurred, and she was having trouble keeping up, even with Facto and Arcadia all but carrying her.

  Jurak swung a door open on the right side of the hall, and they ran in, slamming it behind them and locking it. Then Jurak, Stasha and Margot moved a huge dresser in front of it just for good measure.

  Dylan set the king roughly in a chair."Don't move." He picked up another chair and slung it into the window. It bounced off and started careening around the room.

  "What the hell!" Dylan screamed, barely jumping out of the way in time.

  "The windows are made of bullet proof glass," Facto said.

  "You might try just opening it, moron," Drew said in disbelief. She swung her head around to look at Facto."I feel like a bad death warmed up. How do I look?"

  "Not much better, I'm afraid," Facto said, smiling at her fondly.

  "Listen, all of you!" Zarco screamed.

  "Screw him and get that fucking window open now," Drew ordered. Then turned to Zarco, "You just shut up and look pretty. We wouldn't be in this mess right now if you'd remembered that in the first place. Everything was just fine as long as I did all the thinking, and you did all the sitting around looking pretty crap."

  When Dylan couldn't seem to get the window open, Jurak went to help him. It wasn't budging.

  "People, this is high treason. If you release me at once . . ."

  "Actually, it would be high treason," Facto walked away from Drew, leaving Arcadia to hold her up alone, "if we were defying both the king and the queen, or if we were doing something to destroy the country. But the only one who has defied the queen and done anything to destroy this country lately has been you." Facto's voice had risen in volume and in pitch."So indeed I say that when the history books are written, and they talk of this day, it shall be you who is remembered as a traitor."

  "Wow! Ol' Fucktoe's really pissed," Drew whispered to Arcadia, who just nodded.

  "It's stuck," Dylan announced.

  "Then blast it. Come on, we're running out of time," Drew ordered.

  "It's bullet proof. I'm assuming that means laser proof," Dylan said looking at her like she was a moron.

  "The fucking window seals are wood. Try blasting those, dumb ass."

  "Oh, yeah." Dylan started firing his laser at the wood frame as someone started pounding on the door.

  "We will give you exactly five minute to release the king, and then we will break the door down," Atario said from outside.

  "Oh, God! Please don't do that! I love that door. Please, father, pray for the door," Drew whined back."Gee! All we have is your king, and you have our door. Whatever shall we do?"

  "The doors are also bullet proof, and the locks are made of Taligite steel. They can stand against anything," Facto reported.

  Then they heard Atario scream."Get a battering ram and knock it down!"

  "Except maybe that," Facto said.

  "Battering ram. That's a damn good idea," Drew said thoughtfully as she looked around the room. Her eyes landed on a large trunk."Dylan. Jurak. Grab that trunk and use it to batter the window. Maybe now that you have weakened the sill it will bust out."

  They grabbed the trunk and started pounding on the window at the same time as the guards started pounding on the door.

  Stasha, Margot and Facto worked at moving still more furniture in front of the door.

  "Stasha, surely you . . ." Zarco started.

  Stasha looked at him and shook her head no."After what you did to me and with my sister, the Whore of the Spaceways . . ."

  "Wow! I've got another title," Drew said, letting her head bob up and down.

  Stasha more or less ignored Drewcila as she continued glaring at Zarco."I'm the last person you ought to be asking for any kind of help."

  Zarco moved as if to get up, and Arcadia's laser leveled on him, "Ugh," she said. He sat back down.

  The window popped out just as the door made a cracking sound.

  "Tie the sheets to the footboard of the bed, and let's go," Drew ordered.

  Dylan tied off the sheets, and threw the end of their rope out the window."Man, like we made way too much rope, dudes."

  "Better too much than not enough I always say," Drew said with a smile, looking at Zarco with meaning.

  "Drewcila . . . you had better listen to me . . ."

  "Don't bother me right now, Zarco, I'm trying to remember something important. One last thing I have to do before I go. Now what was it? Oh, yeah! I remember." She turned to glare at Zarco."Kill you." She leveled her blaster on him."You killed my friend, cheated on my sister, and had me thrown into jail. I can't just let it slide."

  "Drewcila, no!" Stasha screamed. The bolt hit Zarco in the leg instead of the chest, and he let out a scream of pain.

  "Damn! My aim must be off," Drew started to re-aim, and Stasha grabbed her arm.

  "Drew, don't kill him," Stasha pleaded with tears in her eyes.

  "Damn! There is just no pleasing some people. First it's don't screw him, and now it's don't kill him. I wish you'd make up your mind what it is you want." Drew watched him writhing around the floor in pain, and decided it was good enough for now. Stasha ran to his side and tried to help him."All right, I'll let him live, but don't ask me for any favors for awhile."

  The door made another cracking noise."Drew, we have to go," Arcadia said. Margot and Dylan were already on the ground, and Facto was well on his way.

  "You next, Stasha," Drew said.

  "Don't you dare order me around," Stasha screamed up at Drew, tears streaming down her face.

  "Go out the fucking window on our little sheet rope that Margot and Dylan worked so hard on, or I'm going to throw you out the window and use you as a landing pad for my fat ass. Now go!"

  "You'll be all right, Zarco," Stasha promised. Then she got up, ran to the window, and with Jurak's help started down the rope.

  "Drewcila . . . I'll make you pay for this!" Zarco screamed.

  "You're pushing it, Zarco," Drew hissed back."My sister's gone now, and there is nothing at all to stop me burning a hole right through your freaked out brain. Then I'll be queen." She laughed maniacally. Arcadia dragged her to where Jurak had hauled the rope back up. They tied it around her, jus
t under her shoulders, and then quickly lowered her to the ground. By the time they had done this, the guards were almost through the door.

  "You go," Arcadia ordered abruptly.

  "No, you . . . I'll be fine."

  Arcadia didn't argue with him. As the door and its barricade started to move, she shimmied over the sill and down the rope.

  They had determined that the rope probably wouldn't hold more than one of them at a time, so Jurak reached quickly into his pocket, pulled out his silly hat, and stuck it on his head. Then just as the door and barricade noisily gave way, almost drowning the din of his monarch's cries of agony, he went out the window and down the rope only a few feet behind Arcadia. The rope gave a little, but didn't break. As they both reached the ground safely, Dylan hurried them away from the rope and shot the top of it with his laser. The rope fell in flames to the ground. Jurak and Arcadia helped Drewcila, and together they ran as fast and as far into the city as they could get.

  The door broke, and there was enough room for one man to squeeze past. From inside they could hear someone screaming in pain, and while they'd heard the argument between the queen and her sister and knew Zarco had been wounded, they couldn't be sure that he was alone.

  Atario pulled his laser and looked at the others."Stay here. We don't know what we might face. I may be able to negotiate."

  The guards all nodded. Though it was no doubt more because they were glad to be staying out here away from danger than because they thought Atario had a good idea—or even that they understood. There was something that Atario hadn't considered when he had talked the king into changing members of the palace guard for members of the nobility. The nobility were a bunch of out of shape desk slugs who had no training or natural ability for the job. They were ready to pull a trigger, but they weren't really ready to actually get hurt, and now that several of them had easily been killed by the queen and her rabble, they were less and less willing to put themselves in the actual line of fire.

  So Atario walked carefully into the room himself. He saw the broken window and the king clutching his leg on the floor. He ran to Zarco's side."Sire, are you all right?"

  "Do I look all right? The bitch shot me. She shot me, Atario. She wanted to kill me. My great love, my wife . . ."

  Atario had heard enough. All of this trouble had come from one source, and he could easily kill two birds with one stone. He pressed the business end of his laser to the king's head.

  "Oh, sire! What has that traitorous whore done to you!" he cried out.

  "What the . . ." the laser beam seared through Zarco's skull and brain, killing him almost instantly.

  Chapter 7

  Finding the Reverend Pard Jar hadn't been very difficult. Especially since the on-board computer came complete with a schedule of all the Reverend's appointments, and the programmed flight plan would take them right to him.

  It was really a no-brainer. Pard Jar held a revival meeting, got a bunch of converts, then shipped them off to the planet before they had a chance to realize how stupid everything he said was and change their minds. Van Gar pretended like he'd known this all along, because he just felt too stupid that it hadn't actually dawned on him until he looked at the travel log.

  After they had cleaned up in the flight crew's quarters and fought over who got to wear the crew's clothing, Van Gar and his recruits, for the most part, blended right in with the rest of the Chitzsky mob that had surrounded Pard Jar in the middle of the station.

  He listened to Pard Jar spout his drivel and let it feed his already large stock of righteous anger. Shreta nudged him.

  "You can stop kicking yourself now. I'm listening to him and wondering how any of us could have bought what sounds now like a three-day dirty Chitzsky smells," Shreta said in a whisper at his shoulder.

  Van Gar turned to her, baring his teeth in an evil grin."I wasn't kicking myself. I was thinking of the many and varied ways I am going to kick his ass."

  '. . . A man looks at a mountain. It is very tall, but he will climb it one step at a time," Pard Jar said.

  "Why?" Van Gar yelled out.

  "What, my brother?" Pard Jar asked.

  "Why does he want to climb the mountain?" Van Gar screamed back.

  "Because it's there, my brother," Pard Jar said with a smile."Every great journey starts with a single step . . ."

  "Isn't that sort of stupid? I mean, why climb a mountain if there's nothing at the top? Now if there was a really great bar up there, or a strip club, it might be worth the trip."

  Pard Jar painted on a patronizing smile before he went on as if Van Gar hadn't interrupted him."So, we as a people put our first steps upon our new homeland. Through our hard work and our conviction our world shall bloom, one step at a time, one dream at a time. We are all our own power, we feel and are felt, heal and are healed, love and are loved . . ."

  "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Van Gar asked with a laugh."Let me get this straight. You're like this superior enlightened dude, and you can't say anything more relevant than vague shit like, We are all our own power. We feel and are felt, heal and are healed, love and are loved."

  He'd finally managed to rub the Reverend's fur the wrong way."Perhaps, my brother, this is not the path for you."

  "Got news for you, Jack, this ain't the path for anyone. See, me and my friends bought your pretty line of bullshit. We've been to your promised land, and we feel like you screwed us out of our shit. Healing . . . that's what you're going to need after we get done beating you to a bloody pulp. And love, well we'd simply love to shove your crappy home planet right up your lying, cheating, thieving ass."

  Pard Jar and his two "assistants" tried to make a run for it, and Van Gar's people—who had been positioned strategically close to the "Pride Leader"—grabbed them. No one in the crowd moved to help the good Reverend. In fact, they had started growling and screaming profanities at him.

  Whatever spell he'd held them with had been broken, and he had instantly gone from the dimpled savior of their race to the scourge of their universe in a few short seconds.

  After a few gratifying moments of them begging, pleading, and denying any knowledge of what evil Pard Jar was involved with, Van Gar decided to release the two assistants, even though he was pretty sure they were full of shit concerning their lack of involvement. He didn't want any distractions. Van Gar wanted to focus all his anger and energy on the self-proclaimed "Pride Leader."

  Van Gar grabbed Pard Jar by the short hairs on the back of his neck and started dragging him back towards the ship, stopping every few feet to kick the good Reverend in the ass with his heavily booted foot."You are going to give us all of our shit back, and if you do that, I might just let you live. With a heavy emphasis on might."

  "My brother, all of that money has gone back into the colony," Pard Jar cried.

  "Hey! Dumb fuck!" Van Gar stopped long enough to haul Pard Jar to his feet. He knocked on Pard Jar's head with his fist."Is anyone home in there? We've all been to the colony, remember? And we've seen the ship's manifests. Not only have you got all the shit you took from us and others like us, but that stupid shitty rock we've all been hauling around is actually worth some fucking money to the Yorgites, who apparently need a mineral in the rocks as a food additive. We want all that money, too. Since we hauled all the rock, it seems only fair."

  Security ran in from all directions, saw what was going on, threw up their hands to show they had no intention of interfering, and then quickly ran away again. There was no way they were going to take on an angry mob of Chitzskies, especially when they seemed content to torture one of their own.

  Drewcila and her entourage walked to the nearest safe haven, a bar. It took the clientele a minute to realize who had walked into their space, but when they did, the bowing and scraping started.

  "Get up, guys," Drew said as Arcadia and Facto helped her sit in a chair close to the bar."Listen, dudes, the shit has hit the fan up at the palace, and I need your help."

  "Anyt
hing, my queen," the bartender said with a bow.

  "I need a vehicle large enough to carry me, my two ambassadors, my councilor, and my sister."

  "You can use mine," the bartender said, wading forward and putting the keys into Dylan's outstretched hand.

  "I need someone to take Margot and Jurak to the nearest TV station. The people must be warned about the coup."

  "I'll do it," a client said, stepping forward.

  "I need your loyalty now more than ever, and I desperately need a beer," Drew said.

  "Our loyalty to the queen forever!" The patrons of the bar said in unison, as the bartender opened a bottle quickly and started to pour it into a glass. Drewcila shook her head, and he handed her the bottle.