Legba

by Ell Leigh Clarke

  Legba began to wonder whether his initial assessment of this young woman was completely incorrect. If she was so distrustful of others, then why was she opening up so much of herself to him, a stranger she had just met? By their third round of drinks, it became clearer to Legba why Raven Black was opening up to him so much, and it also became clear that his feeling of a father-daughter relationship was reciprocated. Although she was a bit less subtle about it.

  Raven Black took a long swig of her beer, then looked Legba in the eyes. “You know who you remind me of? My dad.”

  Legba smiled. “Why, might I ask? Similar beard?”

  She shook her head. “Nah. You just have a, a general… protective vibe. My dad, he was a number one, A-plus protector. I remember lots of nights, when I was little, he’d save me from the boogeyman under my bed. Don’t know how he did it, but he came out completely unscathed, every time…” She looked off into the middle distance, smiling drunkenly at the memory.

  Legba nodded, wondering whether to pierce her bubble of happiness. “Does he still protect you?”

  Raven Black’s face immediately fell. “No. He… he disappeared.”

  Legba’s lips twisted in concern. “I— I’m sorry to hear that. At least you still had your mother, to—“

  Raven Black sighed. “No. She, uh, she was taken away…”

  He leaned closer. “Taken where?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. A crazy house, probably.” She looked into her drink, a deep sadness gripping her face, seeming completely disconsolate.

  Legba took a deep breath. “I am sorry to hear that. But I want you to know: I will do whatever I can to protect you.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Aboard the Chesed, Edge of Leviathon-Q Sector

  Shango paced on the bridge, its main screen looming behind him. The majority of his crew, as well as Legba, stood in a disorganized cluster in front of him. Behind him, the screen showed a live feed of the Verracci Docks, where the Chesed was docked. The docking area looked like an immense canyon, its tall sides reaching up high beyond the view offered by the screen. A wide variety of ships jutted from the structure’s tall banks, a steady stream of new ships arriving, while just as many were departing.

  Shango put his hands behind his back as he stood in front of the screen. “All right. This is going to be a short stop. Nothing too fancy, nothing too long, just get in and get out. Jade?”

  Jade stepped forward. She stood with her back straight, at attention, and she brought the back of her right hand to her forehead. “Yes, sir! I know that I don’t need to salute, but I’m kind of into it.”

  Shango tilted his head, somewhat confused. “That— That’s fine. You will have the most pressing duties while we are docked here. Please inform one of the technicians that the FTL tanks must be filled immediately.”

  Jade nodded. “Will do.”

  Shango smiled. “Excellent. Also, while the ship is refueling, I would like you to purchase some backup hoses to replace the damaged one.”

  Jade grinned back at him. “No problem. You’ve got it.” With that, she turned and rushed past the rest of the crew, off of the bridge, the door sliding shut behind her.

  Shango turned to the remaining crew members. “As for everyone else, I think it would be advisable to simply remain on the ship. Jade should be able to complete her tasks fairly quickly, without any additional assistance, and I don’t believe that there is any need to— Hey! Wait!”

  Shango stared at Legba, who was walking away from the crew, heading towards the exit. Shango strode towards him and stood in front of the exit, blocking Legba’s way. “Where exactly do you think that you are going?”

  Legba stopped, looked up at Shango, and shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I have never had an opportunity to visit Verracci.”

  Shango nodded. “Okay. Perhaps I can interest you in some info files on Verracci? I could load some documents for you to read about their various attractions, and that way, the next time you come here, you will have all of the information you need to get the most out of your Verracci tourism experience.”

  Legba smiled tightly. “Thank you for your kind offer, Shango, but I would much rather—”

  Shango spread out his hands. “Or, alternatively, you could watch a video, or a hologram. I am sure that the Verracci tourism board has produced an entertaining video or two that would provide you with whatever information about this place that you might ever desire.”

  Loco sat at the table and looked at Shango, his eyes narrowed. “Did the Verracci tourism board pay you to say all of that? And if so, how did you get that gig?”

  Legba waved at Shango dismissively, moving around him. “Oh, I do not need to read any info files, or watch any videos. One should always collect experiences, like bug specimens in a jar, and I can tell you, I am not going to waste my Verracci jar, cooped up in this ship. I would encourage you to do the same.” Legba smiled at Shango, and stepped through the exit, leaving the bridge.

  Loco rose from his seat and strode towards the exit. “If he’s leaving the ship, then so am I.”

  Shango put a hand to his forehead. “Loco, please…”

  Loco shrugged. “What? This fucking ship’s been dry for weeks. I don’t even like to go one day without having a drink.”

  Shango nodded. “Yes. That— That is all true. But we really are in a rush, and you have a habit of, shall we say, overstaying your welcome in drinking establishments. So I really do think that the best course of action would be for you to—“

  Loco put up his hands. “Okay. I’ll tell you what. Since you’re in such a rush, if you can get me an alcoholic drink – any kind you want – in the next five seconds, then I’ll stay.”

  A pained expression spread across Shango’s face. “Loco. Please. That’s— You know that I could not get you anything in such a limited span of—“

  Loco glanced at a nearby screen. “And that’s five seconds.” He patted Shango on the shoulder, stepping around him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back after, maybe, four, five drinks. Ten, tops. Unless there are some particularly good drink specials. I’ll just play it by ear, I guess.”

  He walked to the threshold of the exit and turned to the other crew members. “Anyone else wanna come? Anyone want to follow Legba’s lead, and, you know, fill your bug jars? But with booze instead of bugs? Probably tastes a lot better. Definitely gets you way more drunk.” The remaining crew members glanced at each other, but no one else moved towards the exit.

  Loco shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourselves. More booze for me.” He strode off of the bridge, and the door slid shut behind him.

  Svend watched the door shut, a look of concern on his face. He took a deep breath and turned to Bentley, who stood to his left. He looked at her face, keeping his voice low. “I— I really think that we should leave the ship for a while…”

  Bentley nodded, her eyes on the door. “I think that you’re right.”

  He smiled. “Really? Great! I’ve been thinking a lot, over the last little while, during all of those times when you’ve been in meditation, with Legba, and, well, I… I’m starting to become suspicious that—”

  She shook her head and grabbed his hand. “We can talk about that later. Legba’s up to something. I’m sure of it.”

  Svend sighed, exasperated, but trying to keep his voice quiet. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! When I say that I’m suspicious, I’m suspicious of—”

  Bentley put her index finger to her lips. “Shh. Come on. We need to follow him. Now.” Still holding his hand, she walked towards the exit.

  Shango turned towards the movement in his peripheral vision, and he noticed Bentley and Svend approaching the exit. He sighed. “Please. Not you too…”

  Bentley shrugged, still walking towards the exit. “Look. I’ve been doing a lot of meditating lately. That means a lot of sitting around, in one place, completely motionless, not doing anything with my legs. It’s important to balance out that sort of thin
g with long walks. And I haven’t done any deep reading about Verracci, or seen any tourism videos, but I’m pretty sure they have places here where you can walk around.”

  Shango nodded to Svend. “And what about you?”

  Svend scratched the back of his neck, nervous. “I— I haven’t been on any long walks in a while, either. And, uh, my understanding is that a long walk is the best counterbalance to that condition. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Shango sighed, and stepped away from the exit. “Fine. But please, don’t go too far from the ship, and don’t linger. I would like to get to Dacca Noir as soon as possible.”

  Bentley nodded to him. “You’ve got it.” She pulled Svend’s hand, leading him off of the bridge.

  Shango walked over to the table and sat down, deflated. Olofi walked over to him and placed a reassuring hand on Shango’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. They’ll all be fine.

  Shango sighed. “I am not worried about their safety. I think that I am mostly worried that Loco is going to get into a drinking contest with a mirror, which could take a while.”

  Olofi nodded. “That is true. But look on the bright side: at least your mission wasn’t to keep a bunch of people on a ship for a few hours.”

  Shango lowered his face into his hands. “Silver linings…”

  Olofi smiled. “That’s the spirit. Plus, if you like, I can put on one of those Verracci tourism videos. That was a great idea you had earlier. We can learn about this place from the comfort of our own ship.” Olofi sat down beside Shango and looked up at the bridge’s main screen. He glanced quickly to his right, activating a video. The live feed of the docks was replaced with a loud, slickly edited commercial by the Verracci tourism board, cutting between people being served heaping plates of food in a restaurant, and interior shots of a luxury hotel.

  Shango looked up at the screen, watching the long succession of smiling faces which beamed at him from the annoying video, while upbeat music blasted from the bridge’s sound system. “Maybe I should leave the ship, too…”

  +++

  Verracci Docks, Edge of Leviathon-Q Sector

  Bentley and Svend rushed around a corner, revealing yet another wide corridor in the Verracci Docks Marketplace. The walls were packed tightly with vendor stalls, and between them was a bustling throng of people. Bentley and Svend searched desperately through the crowd, until they saw their target: Legba. He was chatting with a vendor, who was selling a variety of local fruits, just a few yards away.

  Bentley and Svend had been trailing Legba since they had left the ship. They had passed far beyond the parts of the Verracci Docks that were geared purely to travelers and tourists, into the marketplace, where even locals came to do their shopping. The vendors in these hallways were selling everything one could imagine, from food to clothes to entertainment products, even weapons and drugs if you knew which vendor to ask. However, the only thing that Bentley and Svend wanted was to keep their eyes on Legba.

  It wasn’t clear to Bentley or Svend whether Legba knew that they were following him, but either way, he was doing an excellent job of dodging them. They would see him from a few yards away, idly inspecting wares or in conversation with a vendor, but as they got closer, moving through the dense crowds, he would suddenly vanish into thin air. It was sheer luck that they’d managed to follow him successfully for this long.

  Bentley watched as Legba handled one of the vendor’s fruits, seemingly weighing it in his hands. She didn’t recognize the fruit: it appeared to be some sort of oblong plant with bright purple skin. Whatever it was, it was huge, with a length approximately equal to Legba’s entire arm. “God, I hope he actually buys that thing. It might slow him down.”

  Svend nodded, his eyes on Legba. “If he straps it to his head, that’d be a real blessing. Anything to make him more conspicuous.”

  Bentley smirked. “If we’re lucky, maybe his next stop will be a vendor of gigantic flags. Or fireworks.”

  Legba handed the fruit back to the vendor, a broad smile on his face. A family with three particularly large sons approached Legba and the vendor, looking at the fruits, blocking Bentley and Svend’s view. The family members soon lost interest in the fruits and walked away, revealing that Legba had once again disappeared.

  Bentley exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Damn it.” Her eyes shot around the corridor, seeking any sign of Legba, but she could not find a trace him. She looked past the fruit vendor and noticed the opening to a more narrow corridor. She grabbed Svend’s hand. “Come on. This way.”

  They rushed through the crowds, twisting their way around the hordes of people, until at last they reached the entrance to the narrow corridor. This one was more sparsely populated, and there were local businesses inset into the walls. More importantly, towards the end of the corridor, Bentley could make out the back of Legba’s head.

  Bentley and Svend rushed down the corridor, passing restaurants and small shops, towards Legba. Suddenly they heard a familiar voice coming from their right. “Hey! It’s the… it’s the fucking love birds! Out on a… a flight? Cause you’re birds? And birds go on… flights?”

  They turned to their right and saw Loco, standing in an open doorway. It was the door to a dive bar, and he held a large, half-empty stein in his right hand. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t do bird-based wordplay too often. Not my strong suit, I guess.” He gestured to the stein. “Also, this is not my first drink of the day.”

  Svend looked up at Loco. “Hey, Loco. Glad to see that you found a place that can accommodate your needs.”

  Loco nodded. “Yep. They serve booze, and they’re open. The best of both worlds. So you guys wanna come in, or what?”

  Bentley was watching Legba as he strolled farther and farther down the corridor. She turned to Loco, distracted. “Do we wanna what?”

  Loco smiled at her. “Come on, you don’t have to play dumb. You wanted to get a drink just as much as I did. Actually, you probably wanted to get one even more than I did, since you had to spend all that fucking time with Legba. If that won’t drive someone to drink, gods know what will…”

  Bentley and Svend looked each other in the eyes. Bentley knew that she wanted to keep pursuing Legba. However, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to share with Loco the fact that she and Svend had been tailing Legba since they left the ship. But what was Svend thinking? God, thought Bentley, if only I could communicate telepathically with people who aren’t Legba…

  Loco looked at Bentley and Svend expectantly. “So are you coming inside? Or do you have something better to do in this corridor?”

  Bentley opened her mouth, hesitating. “Well… Uh…”

  Loco smirked at her. “You know, we do have corridors on the ship that you can stand around in, not doing anything. While we’re here, it might be worth taking advantage of all of the more unique amenities that Verracci has to offer.”

  Bentley sighed. “No, we’re coming in. Lead the way.”

  They reluctantly followed Loco into the bar, and Bentley regretted it almost immediately. This bar was clearly not geared to the tourists at the nearby Verraci Docks. Not only were the tables and chairs in very rough shape, but the entire interior was in disarray, with a number of toppled chairs and tables. It looked as though there had been two fairly violent bar fights within the last hour, but that whoever ran the bar decided that it would be more trouble than it was worth to clean up the broken tables and splintered chairs, since another fight would surely break out soon enough.

  Bentley glanced around the room, at the clientele, and what she saw made the bar’s general condition seem a bit more reasonable. Every person she saw looked deeply unhappy, or incredibly angry, as though every single one of them either wanted to drink until they became unconscious, or they wanted someone else to give them an excuse to punch that other person into a state of unconsciousness.

  They sat down at a table in the corner that was only modestly broken, one of its corners seeming as though part of it had been snapped off. Svend
sat in the corner, looking around at the disordered bar, and whistled. “Jesus… Did a fight happen here?”

  Loco nodded. “Oh, yeah. A couple since I’ve been here. But don’t worry. Nothing serious. I guess a guy got killed in the last one, but to be fair, he started it.”

  A stone-faced bartender approached the table. His arms were bare, and they were covered in a variety of scars. Loco waved him over. “Hey, buddy, three more of this one. Same tab.”

  The bartender nodded, eyeing the three suspiciously, before returning to the bar.

  Bentley watched the bartender filling three more steins. She turned back to Loco. “So is that one pretty good?”

  Loco smiled. “Oh, god, no. It tastes like rubbing alcohol. But that still counts as a kind of alcohol, right?” He drained the last of his stein and slammed it back on the table.

  As if on cue, the bartender dropped the three new drinks on the table with a thud. Loco grabbed his by its handle and raised it in the air. “I’d like to propose a toast. To the gradual, inescapable degradation of the senses, which makes it that much easier to choke down anything that will get you drunk. Cheers!”

  Bentley and Svend picked up their steins and clinked them together unenthusiastically. Bentley took a sip, and immediately spit the liquid back into the stein.

  Loco slapped her on the back playfully. “What did I tell you? Just like rubbing alcohol. They really captured its complexity, expertly mimicking every flavor note.”

  As the hour dragged on, Bentley began to sincerely wish that she was still following Legba through the Verracci Dock’s maddening maze of corridors. Or maybe just doing anything other than sitting in the bar. She didn’t want to drink too much, partly because she wanted to keep her head clear, and partly because the beer was disgusting. However, much to her chagrin, Loco insisted on ordering round after round, before she or Svend had even finished their previous drinks.