“A prudent decision,” snarled a Pyrrhenian, emerging from the bridge. He was a mirror image of Hilvar, minus a few pounds. The flying barrel circled around me, scanning me with some sort of device. “He’s clean! There’s no trace of Oleander on him.”
I stepped onto the bridge. Both the adviser and Grandar were already here, sitting on the floor, each inside his respective force dome. Not a bad decision when you have an endless supply of elo on hand. They were the only Precians here, however.
“What do you think you’re doing on my cruiser, henchling of the Traitor?”
The captain’s chair spun around its axis, revealing the great Corsican. My heart, which had been beating faster and faster from the anticipation, stopped like a jammed motor. The pirate leader looked exactly as his voice had suggested — my earlier impression had been an accurate one. I was off only in the dimension of appearance. The pirate leader was so disfigured that he looked more like he had stepped out of a children’s horror story than a pirate legend.
The first thing that caught my eye were the stumps he had instead of legs. The Delvian had not bothered attaching prostheses, preferring to flaunt the consequences of his dangerous profession. The second thing that caught my eye was his lower jaw or rather its absence. The pirate leader did not mind at all that his long red tongue was just hanging down out of his throat, endowing his overall physiognomy with an unforgettable expression. It was immediately clear that, given these disabilities, the Delvian could not possibly speak, and thus the third thing that caught my eye was the speaker on his chest with a cable that looped up and straight into the Corsican’s cortex — voicing his very thoughts. Yet all these striking details were forgotten as soon as I encountered the eyes of the mighty pirate. They were absolutely black and piercing, as if they could scan your mind for thoughts you didn’t even know you had. The cumulative effect of the Corsican’s appearance suggested that this was a character you dealt with as quickly as possible and through a dozen intermediaries, if possible.
“I was working on this little heist I’d been contracted to do,” having finished my inspection, I answered the question.
“You were discovered in the brig. Explain yourself.” It was clear that the Corsican had no problems whatsoever using his terrible appearance to gain an advantage in conversation. I’d bet that he could even get answers from a deaf-mute.
“I completed my job and was about to get out of here when you appeared and ruined all my plans. The fat Precian who claims to be the captain around here, decided that I was one of your spies and threw me into the brig. I imagine you know everything that followed. It’s true I caused a slight ruckus and sent a couple of your boys to meet their planetary spirit, but they themselves are to blame! When you summoned me, I came.”
“Very well,” the Corsican accepted my explanation without a trace of emotion. “What about that thing? What is it? Give it here.”
“This is a present from the emperor to that Precian there.” I nodded in the direction of the adviser. “I can’t hand it over. It’s the reason I came here.”
“Sure you can,” replied the Corsican with something like a chuckle crossed with a sneer. “I’ll give you five seconds.”
Everyone around us pointed their blasters at me yet again.
“Sure I can, sure I can!” I backpedalled. “Here it is!”
I took the jewelry box out of my inventory and held it up for everyone to see. Falling to one knee and raising the emperor’s gift over my head, I solemnly proclaimed:
“Allow me to present you with this humble gift, oh head of the Jolly Roger!”
Your rapport with the Corsican has decreased. Current Rapport: 0.
Why look at that! The pirate likes it when I kill his warriors, but he doesn’t abide toadies… I’ll take it into account for next time. The Delvian wagged his tongue in a peculiar gesture of disapproval but said:
“Let him pass!”
I slowly stood up and carefully approached the Corsican, trying not to provoke anyone. He stretched out his fingerless hand. Bowing one more time, not quite so reverently this time, I pulled off a trick available only to players and their virtual inventory. The object in my hand abruptly changed to another, and I stuck it into the Corsican’s hand, pressing his other hand on top of it. Before anyone could realize what was happening, I whispered with unvarnished anger:
“This is one of those Zatrathi grenades that disrupts your planetary binding. You know what this means!”
I’d wager that the Jolly Roger had captured their share of Zatrathi weapons and had encountered one of these grenades before. There’s no way they were that rare. Accordingly the Corsican should be familiar with its operation. The Delvian’s reply confirmed my hunch. He yelped sharply and started, but kept his eyes locked on mine.
“Don’t shoot! What do you want?”
“I want to get out of here. I want to get out of here in one piece, without any further hassle and with my rightful loot in my possession.”
Your rapport with the Corsican has grown. Current Rapport: 100.
The Delvian’s upper lip twitched. I guess this was like him smiling or something.
“Very well. I like daring people. You will be granted safe passage. Hell, we’ll even escort you. You don’t have to fear anything, Surgeon — but we will still meet. I promise.” The pirate leader cackled for emphasis.
“We most definitely will meet again,” I nodded, not taking my eyes off his. “I have big plans for the Jolly Roger.”
To my bewilderment, now all the pirates around us exploded in raucous laughter.
“You have a minor problem with the company you’ve chosen to keep, pirate! The Jolly Roger is no place for Hilvar’s henchlings. Let Surgeon pass! I permit him to leave the ship!”
“Twenty million for the adviser,” I nodded at the Precian in his bubble. “I want to get some bonuses from him.”
“Do not try my patience.” The Corsican stopped laughing abruptly. “You have ten minutes to vacate my cruiser!”
I did not bother hanging around any longer. Cautiously turning away from the head of the pirates, I expected to be shot in the back at any moment. His word was good, however. No one dared lay a finger on me, though as I was leaving, one of the pirates approached me and announced that I could use the second hangar. As soon as the doors to the bridge slid shut behind me, I broke into a run and clenched my trembling hands into tight fists. I did not really believe that I could pull off this ruse until the very last moment.
“Brainiac pick me up in the manner we discussed.” I was being escorted by two pirates, so I didn’t openly tell the ship that we had to pick up Eunice & co. from the hull. I hope Brainiac’s AI can decipher insinuation. Five minutes later, my orbship was hovering a couple of meters from the cruise cruiser and, receiving permission, I left the hijacked ship. Eunice was already aboard Warlock.
“Let’s get out of here! Step on it! Step on it, I said! The twenty minutes have almost expired! Set course for Qirlats.”
“This is not possible,” came the measured reply. “Our hyperdrive is currently being disrupted. Torpedoes inbound. Missile approach velocity equivalent to seventy percent thurst.”
The pirates were still pirates. The Corsican’s word was trustworthy up until I got off his ship. No one had promised me anything after that.
“Throttle to 80% and let’s scram!” I collapsed in my captain’s chair, not taking my eyes off the timer. One minute. I need only a minute.
“Multiple bandits inbound! Fighters!”
“Shoot them down. Snake, send a couple torpedoes their way to distract them.”
“Torpedoes away. Oh, there is even a hit! They missed one!”
The torpedo had slammed straight into the destroyer’s bridge deck, decapitating it. This cost the pirates what little initiative they had, and I calmly flew past the damaged ship into open space.
“Thrust to 90%. We’re outta here!”
The minute expired and somewhere behind us, fa
r away, in the very depths of the Precian Empire, a little sun flashed into existence and was snuffed out by the vacuum. The torpedoes’ detonation reached the backup reactor and triggered a chain reaction. The explosion vaporized the cruiser where she was. I did not see any of this, of course, but the results of my hard labors appeared as a notification before my eyes:
+10,000 Rapport with all empires.
The Precians, Qualians and Delvians wish to work with you.
Your rapport with the Corsican has grown. Current Rapport: 1000.
You have attracted the curiosity of the leader of the Jolly Roger. You may meet with him in three days. Access granted to the Silmar System.
Chapter Four
Eunice had done her job 100%, even 150%. Besides she and I, there were now three more creatures on Warlock’s bridge deck: Duke Narlin, still in his container; Grandar’s servant, terrified of having fallen into pirate captivity; and Oleander, the brother of the Precian Emperor himself. My lovely wife captured him solely due to her natural greed. Passing the cell that held the prisoner, Eunice decided it would be a waste to leave him to the Precians. She quickly dealt with the guards, sending them to respawn. His Excellency proved more finicky. Sir Oleander did not wish to leave his apartments voluntarily. Having resorted to tranquilizer darts, Eunice shoved him into an armor suit and dragged him to her extraction point. She planted Grandar’s other servant on the shuttle that the adviser saw fleeing the cruiser. May he rest in space…In the end, everything turned out for the best and maybe even a little bit better. At least that was how my wife saw it.
“And what are we going to do with him now?”
“What should anyone do with a lucrative investment?” Eunice shrugged.
“Lucrative?” I countered. “The Corsican raided pretty deep into Precian space to get this guy. We need to know why and how we can make a nice buck from this, before we start throwing words like ‘lucrative’ around.”
Oleander silently regaled me with a look full of utmost contempt. Then again that was about what I expected from him. I’m a pirate and a human to boot, which, in aggregate, put me on par with a cockroach — in his kindest taxonomy of creatures. Would you like it if a cockroach rescued you from certain death? It was clear from the Precian’s face that he would decline given the chance, and yet nor could he do anything about it.
“All that can be sold for profit must be sold for profit!” I said with exaggerated gusto and slapped Oleander on the shoulder. His face twisted further into a frown from such familiarity. “I don’t have mutual contacts with the Corsican, but I know those who do. Don’t despair, your Excellence! You shall soon be rid of our disagreeable company.”
“Do as you wish. Your petty machinations do not concern me,” the Precian spat and shrugged my hand off his shoulder. His ill humor amused me. I had achieved my goal — Oleander had deigned to open his mouth. A first step to a fruitful partnership, you could say.
The engineer popped up through a hole in the deck. I had ordered her to examine the jewelry case earlier. Oleander’s façade of condescending revulsion cracked; fear stiffened his noble features. Over his shoulder, Grandar’s servant outright fainted from terror. Well sure, it’s not every day you encounter a giant, talking, three-eyed snake with a pair of arms. Tactfully, the snake preferred to ignore our prisoners’ reactions.
“You know, Cap’n, I can definitely say that you need to get rid of this item. And the sooner the better. It contains three beacons and you can’t jam any of them. All we can do is destroy them, along with the case. Right this instant.”
To illustrate her point, the engineer brandished a large hammer.
“Hang on, hang on…” I grabbed the jewelry case from her. “We’ll always have time for that. Have you figured out what’s inside?”
“No,” said the snake. “I didn’t want to break it, and I haven’t had time to generate the code. If it’s urgent, I can use some ancient techniques I’ve picked up over the years — a hammer and a chisel.”
“Bring them and let’s try it,” I agreed, but before the engineer could disappear, Oleander deigned to open his mouth again.
“Do not try to force the emperor’s gift. It contains an automatic self-destruct mechanism. The contents is very important for the third adviser. My brother is very diligent about his choice of gifts and does not make them lightly.”
Without further ado, I held out the case to Oleander.
“Open it. I want to know what’s inside.”
“I will not do this,” snapped the noble and folded his arms across his chest. “And yes: I know how to open the case — but I shall not, human scum.”
“As you wish,” I did not insist. “My client can figure out what’s what on his own. I’m just the help.”
“Then you are acting on another’s orders?” Oleander’s face became even more contemptuous. When it seemed like things couldn’t be worse, my admission knocked the bottom out from under him.
“Not exactly. Some things I did based on personal initiative, others I was paid for. I abducted Duke Narlin myself.” I proudly nodded at the container.
Only now did Oleander notice it. He jumped up abruptly and flung off the lid. Having examined the container’s contents, the Precian turned back to face me and now his contempt had given way to anger.
“What have you done to my son?! Remove him right this instant!”
My astonishment caused an Indian raga to play in my head and my jaw dropped of its own accord. This was a turn worthy of a Bollywood script!
“I ask you again: What have you done with my son and why is he still in this…this box?!”
A true grandee stood before us, looming over us with his aura of authority. His eyes turned bloodshot, his nostrils flared, even his skin grew darker, darkening from blue to a nocturnal black. I’m sure it was a terrible sight, though I wasn’t impressed. I had seen my fill of these types in my day. Now, I didn’t even bother raising my voice:
“Shut your gob and take your seat, your…blueness. Otherwise, I’ll stuff you in there with Narlin and jettison the lot of you into space like a family crypt! I’ll count to three!” I demonstratively placed my hand on a manipulator.
“What do you want, pirate?” At last it began to dawn on Oleander who was really in charge around here. He stepped back and sat down in his chair. “Is it money? Planets? Concubines?”
“Oh! I want concubines, please,” Eunice jumped in.
“None of the above, your lordship. First of all, I want to know why the Corsican was looking for you. Second, I want to know what’s in the case. I would also like a nice ransom for you and passage to Zalva. Something like that.”
“Caaaap’n,” said he snake, extending her head into the bridge. “You can deal with the Precians later. Look here.”
The engineer brought up a projection of the sector we were in. Everything seemed clear and calm, but then Brainiac zoomed in and outlined one of the nearest stars. I was about to ask what I was supposed to be looking at, but stopped, my mouth half-open. The point of light grew in size until it dawned on me that this wasn’t a sun at all, but a huge spaceship in the shape of a perfect sphere. Almost like an orbship but much larger.
“This is a battlesphere,” Brainiac explained, as if reading my thoughts. “The main combat vessel for a single Uldan. According to the current classification, it is comparable to a destroyer, but it may be piloted by a single Uldan with a full crew of ten.”
“Have you tried hailing it?”
“You bet! I’ve used all the frequencies available to me. There is no reply. It is maintaining position nearby and staying silent,” the snake answered.
“Has it been there long?” It seemed that Brainiac wasn’t telling me everything.
“I noticed it right after I set you down on the asteroids. We were too busy to warn you though. It didn’t seem like a threat, so I left it alone. Anyway, I took it for some kind of UFO initially.”
“Turn around and head in its direction.”
“Change course then!” I ordered. “Ninety degrees to starboard!”
“Roger ninety degrees to starboard…The distance to the battlesphere has not changed. We seem to be moving in parallel.”
“Brake then, Brainiac. Full stop!”
“Roger full stop! Captain…maybe we should jump into hyperspace while we can? I have a bad feeling about this.”
The battlesphere also stopped and so synchronously that it could have been our shadow. I sat down in my chair with a bad sense of foreboding. This was the last thing I needed. Of course, I was pleased to encounter a living Uldan, but given our recent discovery about the Zatrathi and the Uldans, this was probably not a good thing. Who knows what this one wants from me?
A Check for a Billion Page 6
