Chapter Four (Unfinished)
Mr. Zaggatopipopulous had a right to be feared by men of a more solid disposition than Bryan Gilmore. For one thing, he was a very fearsome character in the first place. Anyone with the vast wealth he considered pocket change is bound to inspire a little intimidation, but there was, unfortunately, much more to it than that.
It wasn’t even his appearance, although that didn’t help matters. Mr. Z, as he was usually called, stood about two and a half meters tall. He had pale green skin stretched tight as a drum over his bones, and his solemn face was in a perpetual state of grimness. He walked like a robot and was always dressed in an immaculately pressed and ironed purple tuxedo and top hat which concealed his “receding hairline.” Even before his rise to fortune, he had stood out well in a crowd.
No, it was where he had chosen to sink those vast funds, which had come unto him through most dubious circumstances in the first place. Mr. Z dabbled in drug smuggling, gun-running, slave trading, hired assassinations, prostitution rings, and unwholesome stuff like that. And he did these things freely in the open, because he had set up automated accounts to forever grease the palms of those in authority positions, as he lounged about in the center of his humongous fortress, which forever leered above the horizon of Z City, as it was called.
Even his planet was called Planet Z, and its original name had long since faded into obscurity. It was with a reverent silence that Aaron guided the Avenger into its atmosphere.
“Warning,” she said suddenly, “satellites approaching. Do not make any hostile moves.” Aaron had seen them. Basically orbs with ion cannons, the drones automatically followed any moving object without the right transponder frequency. And if they saw it move the wrong way, it would be presently blown out of the sky.
“Right, doll,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “Thanks.”
Bryan saw the look on his face and suddenly felt superior again. “Is the great Aaron LaBarr getting squeamish?” he taunted.
He felt downright triumphant when Aaron made no attempt to deny it. “You bet,” he choked. With a gulp, he gestured at the dashboard. “Look at that,” he said. “We’re running out of fuel. I don’t know how much longer she can make it.”
Bryan caught his breath. He waited for Aaron to laugh triumphantly at his latest cruel joke. But he saw the dial himself, and knew it was true. “How could you let that happen?” he demanded. “How could you be so careless with your – your baby?”
“I was in a bit of a hurry when I left for Andiron, okay?” Aaron shot back. “Let’s just say – well let’s just say it like it is. Let’s just say there were people trying to kill me.”
Imagine that, Bryan thought. What he said was, “These people will too, you know. In a heartbeat.”
“Have a little faith,” said Aaron. He glanced outside. “Ah, speak of the devil. We’ve made it. Commence landing sequence, sister.”
“Yes, sire,” said the ship. She giggled happily.
***
They were in an otherwise empty parking lot at the entrance to another labyrinth. Bryan groaned. He had been expecting this, but certainly not looking forward to it. This time, at least, there was a gold-plated servant droid standing at attention there, and with some trepidation on his part they walked up to it.
The robot made no move to stop them, and indeed seemed to take no notice of them whatsoever. But then, that was hard to say, because it didn’t have a face. Whatever sensors it used to get around were beneath the surface of its cubical head, mounted on its otherwise humanoid, if decidedly boxy, frame. It appeared to be carrying no weapons, but again, probably had some rather nasty devices hidden inside.
“We’d like to see your master, please and thank you,” said Aaron with a slight bow. His polite tone seemed laced with subtle mockery, and Bryan prayed the droid wouldn’t pick it up.
“Please check your weapons here,” said the droid in its boring monotone.
“Right, sure.” Aaron handed over his gun.
The droid quickly scanned them both for any remaining weapons, then suddenly snapped to attention. “Right this way, please,” it droned. “By the way, would you like your ship refueled and polished?”
“Yeah, that would be great.” Bryan started to protest. He was extremely suspicious of the hospitality being shown them, complete strangers, particularly with Mr. Z’s reputation. But Aaron cut him off and winked. “We’re a little low on fuel, after all,” he said loudly.
The droid whistled, and a dozen of its identical counterparts scurried up from seemingly out of nowhere, carrying buffers and wheeling a large fuel tank on wheels. They got to work, ignoring Glik and Glak who were just now climbing out of the ship. “What’s happening?” Glak demanded.
Bryan realized why Aaron had not told the mercenaries of their plan. They were still completely untrustworthy, after all. But now they were ignorant and in danger of bungling it up, and there was no way to alert them in front of the droids. They were doomed.
Then Aaron spoke up. “Chaow ché, shawapika. Ugläckt ma lia shu da pöska endutrima.” Guard the ship, guys. Don’t let them try any funny business.
Bryan was shocked. He knew their native language, as well?
Glik and Glak were equally shocked, but they were well experienced in card games at the local taverns back home, so they betrayed none of their surprise and did not give the game away. “Gupa shawapi, tröta.” You da man, boss. Or something to that effect.
The droid suddenly seemed to look at them suspiciously, not an easy task for something without a face. “What does that mean?” it demanded.
“
Mary shook her head as tears fell to the floor.
It wasn’t even his appearance, although that didn’t help matters. Mr. Z, as he was usually called, stood about two and a half meters tall. He had pale green skin stretched tight as a drum over his bones, and his solemn face was in a perpetual state of grimness. He walked like a robot and was always dressed in an immaculately pressed and ironed purple tuxedo and top hat which concealed his “receding hairline.” Even before his rise to fortune, he had stood out well in a crowd.
No, it was where he had chosen to sink those vast funds, which had come unto him through most dubious circumstances in the first place. Mr. Z dabbled in drug smuggling, gun-running, slave trading, hired assassinations, prostitution rings, and unwholesome stuff like that. And he did these things freely in the open, because he had set up automated accounts to forever grease the palms of those in authority positions, as he lounged about in the center of his humongous fortress, which forever leered above the horizon of Z City, as it was called.
Even his planet was called Planet Z, and its original name had long since faded into obscurity. It was with a reverent silence that Aaron guided the Avenger into its atmosphere.
“Warning,” she said suddenly, “satellites approaching. Do not make any hostile moves.” Aaron had seen them. Basically orbs with ion cannons, the drones automatically followed any moving object without the right transponder frequency. And if they saw it move the wrong way, it would be presently blown out of the sky.
“Right, doll,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “Thanks.”
Bryan saw the look on his face and suddenly felt superior again. “Is the great Aaron LaBarr getting squeamish?” he taunted.
He felt downright triumphant when Aaron made no attempt to deny it. “You bet,” he choked. With a gulp, he gestured at the dashboard. “Look at that,” he said. “We’re running out of fuel. I don’t know how much longer she can make it.”
Bryan caught his breath. He waited for Aaron to laugh triumphantly at his latest cruel joke. But he saw the dial himself, and knew it was true. “How could you let that happen?” he demanded. “How could you be so careless with your – your baby?”
“I was in a bit of a hurry when I left for Andiron, okay?” Aaron shot back. “Let’s just say – well let’s just say it like it is. Let’s just say there were people trying to kill me.”
Imagine that, Bryan thought. What he said was, “These people will too, you know. In a heartbeat.”
“Have a little faith,” said Aaron. He glanced outside. “Ah, speak of the devil. We’ve made it. Commence landing sequence, sister.”
“Yes, sire,” said the ship. She giggled happily.
***
They were in an otherwise empty parking lot at the entrance to another labyrinth. Bryan groaned. He had been expecting this, but certainly not looking forward to it. This time, at least, there was a gold-plated servant droid standing at attention there, and with some trepidation on his part they walked up to it.
The robot made no move to stop them, and indeed seemed to take no notice of them whatsoever. But then, that was hard to say, because it didn’t have a face. Whatever sensors it used to get around were beneath the surface of its cubical head, mounted on its otherwise humanoid, if decidedly boxy, frame. It appeared to be carrying no weapons, but again, probably had some rather nasty devices hidden inside.
“We’d like to see your master, please and thank you,” said Aaron with a slight bow. His polite tone seemed laced with subtle mockery, and Bryan prayed the droid wouldn’t pick it up.
“Please check your weapons here,” said the droid in its boring monotone.
“Right, sure.” Aaron handed over his gun.
The droid quickly scanned them both for any remaining weapons, then suddenly snapped to attention. “Right this way, please,” it droned. “By the way, would you like your ship refueled and polished?”
“Yeah, that would be great.” Bryan started to protest. He was extremely suspicious of the hospitality being shown them, complete strangers, particularly with Mr. Z’s reputation. But Aaron cut him off and winked. “We’re a little low on fuel, after all,” he said loudly.
The droid whistled, and a dozen of its identical counterparts scurried up from seemingly out of nowhere, carrying buffers and wheeling a large fuel tank on wheels. They got to work, ignoring Glik and Glak who were just now climbing out of the ship. “What’s happening?” Glak demanded.
Bryan realized why Aaron had not told the mercenaries of their plan. They were still completely untrustworthy, after all. But now they were ignorant and in danger of bungling it up, and there was no way to alert them in front of the droids. They were doomed.
Then Aaron spoke up. “Chaow ché, shawapika. Ugläckt ma lia shu da pöska endutrima.” Guard the ship, guys. Don’t let them try any funny business.
Bryan was shocked. He knew their native language, as well?
Glik and Glak were equally shocked, but they were well experienced in card games at the local taverns back home, so they betrayed none of their surprise and did not give the game away. “Gupa shawapi, tröta.” You da man, boss. Or something to that effect.
The droid suddenly seemed to look at them suspiciously, not an easy task for something without a face. “What does that mean?” it demanded.
“
Mary shook her head as tears fell to the floor.
