Recycled

by Selina Rosen

  He raised his head and looked into her eyes, searching for even a slight glimmer of mercy there."The words you speak are true, my queen, but I swear to you, had I to do it over again, I would throw all my support behind you and serve you. If you but give me a chance, I shall live out my life in service to you, even if it means washing dishes the rest of my days."

  "Who is this butt-kissing scum bucket?" the Chitzsky male called Van Gar asked.

  "He's the doctor who withheld treatment from our woman," the lizard woman answered.

  "You know what, guys? That was only funny like the first fifty times you did it."

  "We still think it's funny," the Chitzsky and the lizard woman said at the same time.

  "And I asked you to quit doing that," Drewcila hissed, apparently at least momentarily forgetting him. She looked down the table to where her sister was picking at her dinner."What do you think, Stasha?"

  "They seem to be getting along very well, and you all seem happy with the arrangement, so maybe you shouldn't worry about something as trivial as the fact that they suddenly seem to be sharing a brain as well."

  "As interesting as it is, I wasn't talking about my love life. I was talking about Dr. I'm-not-going-to-give-you-the-antidote-so-that-you-puke-up-small-organs-you're-most-probably-still-using."

  He looked appealingly at Stasha. He had treated Stasha for many years, and felt he had a rapport with her. Besides, she was no doubt still angry over Drew shooting Zarco in the leg.

  Stasha shrugged."I don't know. I can't think about anything but the funeral."

  "How's that coming?"

  "All right I guess. Mother and father are coming in tomorrow. They aren't terribly happy about having a Chitzsky for a neighbor, but said they were happy that at least you weren't slinging them into the streets with the rest of their friends."

  "Yeah, well, you tell them I want a birthday present this year, or that could change real quick."

  "I think we should kill him," Arcadia said, fixing him with a stare that made his blood run cold. She got up and started moving towards him. Sortas steeled himself for the coming attack, but the Chitzsky grabbed the lizard woman's shoulder and stopped her forward progress.

  "I have a better idea," Van Gar said, and fixed his eyes on the ugliest creature Sortas had ever seen, who was sitting halfway down the table.

  The lizard woman let out a laugh, then yelled, "Hey, Shreta! Come here!"

  The creature got up and lumbered over to them."What do you think of this one?" Van Gar asked.

  "He doesn't have much hair."

  "So?" Van Gar asked.

  "He's kind of dirty and old."

  "Shit! He'll clean, girl," Van Gar said."Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'Beggars can't be choosers'?"

  "Yeah, you got a point there," Shreta said. She looked him up and down."Could I maybe see his down-below?"

  "Yes, that's reasonable. Sortas, rise and show us all your down-below," Drewcila said with a broad hand gesture and a smile.

  Sortas got to his feet, "My Queen, I'm afraid I don't understand . . ."

  For answer, the queen poked her finger at his crotch.

  "Your package, Sortas. You said you'd serve me the rest of your life if I would pardon you. Well, it seems we've found you a suitable position, and the lady wants to see your package."

  Sortas looked the ugly woman up and down as he realized what they had in store for him."But, my queen . . ."

  Drewcila's blaster seemed to all but fly from its holster, and then she was pointing it at his head."Drop your pants, show us your goodies, or die."

  Sortas wouldn't have thought he could have exposed himself any faster. The creature looked at his privates, licked her lips, and smiled. The queen nodded, and he pulled his pants up and fastened them, feeling as humiliated as he was sure he could feel . . . until the huge hair-covered creature grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him out of the room screaming, "Come on, baby! Mamma's gonna ride you like a bull!"

  "Noooooo!"

  "Well?" Ralling asked as Tryte walked in flanked by the generals of the Army and Navy.

  "There are tanks, lots of tanks. We can't really say how many, though. We saw aerial photos, but . . . well, they also have anti-aircraft guns, and . . ." He cleared his throat and continued, "We've sent out three piloted planes and six drones, and none of them have been able to do more than get a couple of pictures back before they were blown out of the sky."

  "So . . . why am I getting the feeling that you somehow think all of this is good news?" Ralling asked.

  "Well, sir, because we know right where they are, and they couldn't possibly have many more tanks. It shows that while she may be a good public speaker, she is a lousy general. I'd say she's put all her tanks and those Chitzsky ground troops all in the same place, and we know where that is. So, we send a full aerial assault, and in three or four passes we've wiped them out completely. We cripple their ground capabilities, and without that they can't fight a successful campaign. They're expecting us to hit one of their bases, and then they're going to hit Yeoul base in retaliation with these weapons and troops. But they can't do that if the target we hit are the troops they plan to retaliate with. Her military ignorance will be her undoing. That General of hers is far too pretty to be any good. He gives great speeches, but he's no strategist."

  "Tryte . . . if we go to bomb these tanks and the alien ground troops, and we fail, I'll see you court-martialed and hung before I sign a treaty with Drewcila Qwah. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

  "Yes, sir, Mr. President. I won't let you down this time."

  Sortas had never taken such a long shower in his life, but it hadn't stopped the inevitable. He walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist into a room so dark he couldn't really see where he was going.

  "I figured it would be easier for you this way," she said.

  "Thanks," he answered back. He steeled himself, threw off the towel, stumbled through the dark, and crawled in bed with the huge female, who was easily six inches taller than he was. It was really dark, and it was true that that made it easier, but she was still covered with hair. Of course, when he let himself get over the initial shock of it, he had to admit that it actually felt pretty good against his skin.

  "You don't really have to do this if you don't want to," she said in a quiet voice."I understand, and I'll tell them that you did."

  "No! I mean, I told the queen I'd serve her if she would spare my life, and if this is what I must do to please her . . ."

  "Ride me, stud boy, ride!" she ordered, and because he felt like he was being forced to do this, he tossed all his inhibitions aside. He did things with the Chitzsky female that he'd never done with any Barion woman and she did things to him that he'd never imagined possible.

  It turned out this wasn't nearly the punishment they had all intended, so that part he'd have to fake.

  The door to Drewcila's office—also known as the "war room" in the underground bunker—was open as it normally was. What wasn't normal, even for Drew, was that she seemed to be having an intense conversation with . . . well, with no one. When Van Gar stopped in the doorway, she looked startled, but much to his astonishment she just kept talking to herself.

  "Yes, well, you just do a good, quick, clean job of it, and I'll give you twice that on your return. Do it at the exact moment I want it done, and I'll triple the amount." She stood up then and seemed to shake hands with the air. She sat back down."Be careful." She waved, and then her eyes returned to the desk in front of her. Van Gar walked on in, and looked around to see if the director or some of the camera crew were there. Seeing nothing, he laughed and sat down in the chair across from Drewcila."Drew . . . what the hell were you just doing?"

  "It's not important. Hey, listen . . . When are the first of our ships getting here with your people as crew?"

  "Half of them will be here in another couple of hours, tops. Why?"

  Instead of answering him, Drewcila got up and started pa
cing, making symbols in the air and occasionally erasing them with her fist as she did so. At least this was normal behavior. Drewcila was like a walking calculator, and she could figure out even the most complex problems—especially when it concerned money—in just this way. More amazing, Drew could do things a computer really couldn't do as accurately. Drew knew beings, and she knew what they were capable of. More importantly, she seemed to know what they were likely to do, how they would or would not react to a given situation. She stopped suddenly in mid-calculation and looked at him.

  "All right, get on the horn. Tell them to gather here," she pointed to a spot on the map, "in the space just out of the atmosphere, and hopefully out of Lockhede detector range. They shouldn't be expecting an attack from deep space, so we should be OK. When we give them the signal, they are to go here," she pointed to a spot on the planet map, "without delay, and open fire. I don't want anything to fly away."

  Van Gar nodded and moved to the console, where he'd no doubt be the rest of the day, grumbling, "Good morning, it's good to see you, too."

  Drew just laughed and mostly ignored him. She didn't have time to mollycoddle anyone this morning. She was at war. She called the admiral of the imperial fleet, who, when his face appeared on her screen, looked as if she might have gotten him out of bed. She just clicked her tongue and shook her head to show her disapproval. In this outfit she looked so damn intimidating she didn't really have to do anything else.

  "My queen . . . I'm sorry."

  "Don't be sorry, be ready," she said, working at keeping the smile from her face with an effort. This really was just a hell of a lot of fun."Do we know the position of the last two Lockhede battle cruisers?"

  "We believe so, yes."

  "Don't believe so, know. Find them, and then at precisely twenty-hundred hours I want you to take every available ship in our fleet and pound them till they fall from the sky."

  "But, my queen . . ."

  "But me no buts, man. This is war. We don't have time for buts. By twenty-two hundred hours I want those ships to be nothing but burning husks littering the planet. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes, my queen, but surely . . ."

  "What did I tell you about the buts?"

  "My queen, if we attack them with every ship in the fleet, that will leave the rest of the country without defense from an aerial strike," the admiral objected.

  "Are there no ground to air missiles? Are there no anti-aircraft guns?" Drewcila thundered."Did it sound like I was asking? Because I wasn't. That was an order, and you have to do what I say because . . . well, because I'm queen and all."

  The admiral bowed low, and answered, "Yes of course, my queen, your every wish is my command. Please pardon my ignorance, for I know that your great wisdom shall lead us to victory."

  The transmission ended. As Arcadia walked into the room and took her place behind her own computer console she looked at Van Gar, "Did you hear that drivel? Is it any wonder that her head is so incredibly swollen?"

  Van Gar just mumbled something incoherent and nodded.

  "A little respect, peasant," Drewcila said with a laugh.

  Arcadia laughed and started keyboarding."Woo hoo! Take a look at this baby." She transferred the data from her screen to Drew's.

  Drew read the numbers and started laughing.

  "Well?" Van Gar asked.

  "Qwah-Co stock is on the rise again," Arcadia announced.

  Drew got up and started pacing."Yes, Qwah-Co stock is on the rise, even though the entire operation has come to a near halt because of this war. Do you know what that means?"

  "That you're no longer losing money?" Van Gar answered.

  Drewcila stopped pacing and turned to glare at him."Besides that?"

  "I can't guess, but I'm sure you're dying to tell me."

  "It means I'm going to win the war. My plan is going to work, and the war will be over by tomorrow afternoon."

  "You've garnered all that information from the fact that your stocks are on the rise again?" Van Gar asked skeptically.

  "Hey! Stockholders are never wrong." She sat down and made another call, this time to the "real" general of the Barion army. Unlike his naval counterpart, this man was fully dressed, alert, and ready for action.

  "General, good news! My stock is up. That means we shall be triumphant in battle."

  "Uh . . . all right."

  "That's right, everything is all right. Now, here's the plan." She lined it all out for him in great detail, ending with, '. . . after they have pounded the area for several minutes, they will fly out, and that's when you will move in. You will sweep the area, taking prisoners and killing any who resist until that area is clean. Then you will hold that ground until the Lockhedes either surrender or we are forced to move further inward."

  "I understand, and will carry out all your plans, my Queen."

  The transmission closed, and Drewcila started laughing. When her laughter failed to get the attention of either of her mates, she laughed more maniacally until they both turned to give her their undivided attention.

  "That's better." She stopped laughing."Those Lockhede bastards. They failed to understand who they were up against. They looked at our country and saw that we were militarily inferior to them, but they failed to understand the strength of my company. By combining the strength of the country with the strength of my corporation we will slam those bastards back into the stone age."

  "Was that really necessary, or did you just need to gloat?" Van Gar asked, returning to his work.

  "Hey! Gloating's necessary."

  Dartan walked in, minus the film crew. The queen appeared to be in deep thought."My Queen, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I was wondering if you'd like me to make any sort of report for you this morning, or if you'd perhaps like to make a statement before you go to the funeral."

  She seemed to think about this for a moment, then looked at him and said, "I don't think people should actually say anything during orgasm. What do you think, Dartan?"

  Dartan was more than a little taken aback, and he didn't appreciate at all the giggling from the two aliens, who were no doubt laughing at his expense."Excuse me, my Queen?"

  "When you're having orgasm, you just sort of open your mouth and words come out. You know, things like, 'Give it to me, give it to me!' Well, obviously they already are. Then there's the ever-popular begging, as in, 'Please, baby! Please!' As if they're going to stop doing something that's obviously working. And what about the, 'Oh gods! Oh my gods!' It just seems to me like that's a strange time to become religious. And what's with the whole saying everything twice thing? Do you just assume that they didn't hear you the first time? The problem is, of course, that you aren't thinking anything, because there is no blood in your brain. So, what have we learned?"

  "I . . . I'm not really sure?" Dartan said in confusion.

  "That you shouldn't speak during orgasm," Arcadia and Van Gar said in unison, which made the queen cringe.

  She recovered quickly, "Yes, that's exactly right."

  Dartan still didn't understand."Is that to be a royal decree then?"

  "Most certainly not! We are at war. We can't be wasting our time with such trivial pursuits. It was just an observation. What was it you wanted again?"

  "My Queen, the funeral. It's in a few hours, and . . ."

  "I just said I can't be bothered with such trivial things."

  "Do you maybe want to say a few words about your dear, departed husband?"

  "I would, but I'm afraid none of them would help my popularity with the people of Barious. Between you and me, Dartan, he was sort of a prick. My sister will be playing me today . . ."

  "Your sister? I . . . I don't understand."

  "My sister, Stasha. She will be playing the role of myself in today's production of The Funeral Of A Well-Loved King, while I will be dealing with more important matters."

  "Like whether or not people should talk while they're screwing," Van Gar mumbled. He and Arcadia both laughed, and D
rew glared at their backs across the room before turning back to Dartan.

  "Like the war and such. The director has gone all out, a large cast has been hired, and I'm told it will be the most beautiful of funerals."

  Chapter 14

  Lex, posing as the general and high commander of the army, was the first to speak of the deceased. The speech he read off the cue cards was excellent. The audience was beautiful and doing a very believable job of grieving. The flowers, the chorus—all beautiful.