Chapter Five
A few hours earlier and several light-years away, on the bridge in the cockpit bubble of the Ankled Apex, someone was rather calm and collected considering that everyone was about to die while someone else stood by making sarcastic remarks about how everyone was about to die and someone else explained frantically to yet someone else that considering the fact that everyone was about to die, he didn’t particularly give a rusty bolt whether there was a shuffleboard off the starboard bow.
“You’re a rogue,” said Alicia in surprise, “and this battle is in your league. We’ll be fine.”
“Such logic. I am relieved,” said Kaycee.
“You’re right, what was I thinking?” said Buckton. He turned the ship around, opened fire and pulverized all of the missiles. The shock wave swept them backwards and both pilots struggled to regain control of the ship.
“Whenever I’ve gone up against a blockade,” he explained, “I’ve had other guys helping me. But that, come to think of it, was at planets where the government wasn’t moronic and actually contributed to The War. I don’t know why I wanted to help this one, why I felt sorry for it. Certainly the sorts of scum who live here don’t deserve it.”
“I’m not like that,” protested Alicia.
“I know, I figured that out,” said Buckton. “But the point is that here, it’s just a bunch of civilian ships. And none of them are prepared because they spend all their time at parties. I bet half of them aren’t even sober.”
“That’s a conservative estimate,” said Kaycee.
“The only reason I brought it up,” mumbled Zick, “is that it’s very odd to find a shuffleboard floating through space…”
“Probably a political thing,” said Buckton. “They’ll do anything to avoid any actual work, on any planet.”
“Hmmm…” said Zick, and suddenly sucked all the pucks up with the tractor beam. “You’re probably right,” he added. “Space shuffleboard. What a sport.”
The Skreel ships were now practically on top of them, and chose this moment to open fire with traditional lasers, which were less precise and damaging but much faster and more numerous.
“I prefer this one, myself,” said Buckton, as they effortlessly maneuvered the Apex into a flawless dive and didn’t get hit with a single bolt.
“Today’s champion is tomorrow’s space dust,” Kaycee said darkly.
Alicia looked back anxiously. Most of their followers had attempted to follow the dive. Some got caught in the fire anyway, but only one caught the brunt of it and exploded.
“Evil Monsters one, Good Guys zero,” she muttered.
“Can we quit it with the sports analogy?” Zick snapped. “Come on. This is life or death stuff.” They swooped back up and fired at a Skreel ship’s underbelly, then darted away before it could get a lock on them.
Alicia looked back again and saw the other good guys doing the same thing. It seemed to be working. Only a few stray enemy bolts found their marks.
“This is like the doyoug versus the gorglywump,” she said brightly, referring to a couple of the Gragallan faunas that no one ever actually saw except in books because the rats had persuaded them to leave all human-populated areas. “Our small size is actually an advantage.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” said Kaycee. Her temper snapped and for the first time in her life, she switched him off.
“We’ll just keep this up,” she continued, her earlier confidence positively blossoming, “and eventually, they will fall, because their great size works against them. This is awesome.”
“Um, yeah, about that, sister…” Buckton looked a little sheepish.
The underbelly they were currently firing at opened. They pumped as much fire into the ship’s interior as they could and then split, for a very good reason. For several thousand very good reasons, in fact, though they didn’t all pertain to this particular ship.
“Fighters coming in,” reported Zick, unnecessarily.
She saw them. They were ugly gray blistery things that would have been screwed were they condemned to follow the normal laws of aerodynamics. They had wings, but there the resemblance to a flying thing ended and to a cosmic loogie began. Also, they were riddled with weaponry that returned whatever fire came at them with interest. Or maybe some of it was a sensor array. There didn’t, after all, seem to be a window of any sort, and she didn’t know whether they were piloted by actual Skreel or remote control or automation, or what. Most importantly, they were swarming out of the larger, bulkier ships.
Alicia began to get a bit nervous again, and switched Kaycee back on for comfort. “What do you think I am,” he said, “a pacemaker or something, you can just switch on and off at your leisure? I have feelings too, all right!”
“Lady,” said a voice over the radio, “is your robot always that annoying?”
“No, it’s just that time of month,” she lied. “He needs a recharge.” She was embarrassed because she hadn’t realized they were actually connected to the other ships. Somebody had been thinking. So, if they were somehow blind enough to have missed the fighters, they would understand what was hammering them to oblivion.
And us too, she thought as the Apex shook under this new barrage. Their odds of survival had diminished slightly.
For the second time in her life she switched off Kaycee, who was trading increasingly personal insults with the guy on the radio, and then leaned forward intently in her chair. They were hemmed in, no doubt about it. Luckily, however, space is three-dimensional. They went into a dive again.
And there they found that another of the large Skreel ships had come up underneath them. They did a strafing run across its length ending at the sensor arrays and deflector shield generators, which exploded satisfactorily. Buckton wasn’t satisfied, though. “It’s a redundant system,” he explained, “the important stuff’s inside. This just frees up space for soldiers and war machines and crap.”
This turned out to be a magnificent plan, however, because as long as they were hugging the huge ship with the fighters right behind, neither would risk firing at them. He went back and did another strafing run, and another, and another. He started to whistle cheerfully.
Alicia switched Kaycee on. “Look, isn’t this funny?” she said, hoping to cheer him up.
Kaycee looked doubtful, insofar as it is possible for a robot to look doubtful. “Hilarious,” he said at last. “How foolish of me not to realize, at first, that this is entertainment.”
She sighed. “Not as such, Kaycee, not as such. I meant ironic. This is like the doyoug, the gorglywump, and a swarm of quordlepleens.”
Kaycee didn’t get what all the fuss was about. The only thing bothering him was the fact that they were about to die.”
“I count about a hundred friendlies left on our scopes,” Zick reported. “Better than I expected.”
“Yeah,” said Buckton, “I hope they’re all following our lead still. This is the greatest trick ever. Except –”
With a series of loud clangs, a swarm of Skreel attached themselves to the ship. Alicia could see them all over the cockpit, blocking their view of everything with a hideous mass of living flesh. She had never seen so many, this close, looking this bloodthirsty, and she would never forget it. One of them made eye contact and she screamed. Fortunately her stomach and bladder were both empty and the earlier fiasco was not repeated.
“Get ‘em off, quick!” yelled Buckton. He imagined them, elsewhere on the ship’s surface, ripping at the hull, destroying it piece by piece.
“Try to do better than last time!” yelled Zick, raising an eyebrow meaningfully.
“Sure.” They both gritted their teeth and flew, not by instrument, but by instinct. They flew the ship upside down and lowered it ever closer to the massive one below. The Skreel seemed to realize what was going on and scrambled around a bit nervously. Then one by one they came off, messy smears on their own capital ship which was now suddenly visible as being far too close for comfort. Buckton and Zick backed off, flipped back over and repeated the maneuver for the ones that had been gathering on the other side in the meantime.
Suddenly, the ship beneath them began to fire again, indiscriminately. They had a sickening taste of what it was like to get their own underbelly blasted. Warning lights and alarms began to go off around the ship.
Hok Tubok burst onto the bridge. “Dude, like, what the snap is going on?” he demanded. “We’re trying to rehearse for our next gig in the Pleiades.”
“I’ll let Kaycee explain it for you,” said Alicia, who had no patience for this sort of behavior from this sort of person in this sort of circumstances. “Kaycee,” she said, “tell the nice man what’s going on.”
Kaycee shook his head in genuine confusion. “We’re getting our miserable rumps blown to space dust and taking our time about it, that’s what’s happening,” he said. “And it’s very funny.”
Hok frowned. “Buckton, man, can’t you do something?”
“I’m doing, I’m doing!” he screamed. He was trying to roll off the side and get as much distance between them and the large ship as possible, and it wasn’t working because the fighters were still swarming around him, in spite of the fire which was spilling into their own ranks; occasionally adding shots of their own. And making them count.
“Besides,” said Kaycee as the ship was jolted hard to the side and sent anyone not buckled down flying across the bridge, “you do not have a gig in the Pleiades. You’ve never been past the Horsehead Nebula.”
“Well, when they see how awesome we are, they’ll give us a gig,” Hok insisted, picking himself off the floor. The ship was jolted again and as he flew in the opposite direction, the lights and alarms increased in intensity, then decreased as Buckton and Zick diverted their power to the rapidly fading deflector shields.
“‘If,’ not ‘when,’” retorted Kaycee. “A very big ‘if.’”
Hok turned pale and left.
“Hang on,” said Zick, “Take over the rest for a minute, will you Bucky? I gotta calibrate something here.”
“Sure, be my guest,” said Buckton more calmly. “It’s no trouble at all.” He fired at the gun emplacements that were making things difficult, but there were always more, and their range was impeccable. He wondered if he should hold still and concentrate on one spot until he made a hole, but thought no, they’d have us in seconds. Best to keep it going, and make those monsters pay till it was all over.
“Say Kaycee,” said Zick as he worked on whatever he was doing, “do you know anything about starship repair?”
Kaycee scoffed. “‘Do I know anything about starship repair?’” he mimicked. “I am deeply offended by that question. Of course I do! It’s my –”
“So you could help keep this one going for a while?” Zick pressed, brightening.
“Of course I can! Do you want my strakking manual?”
“THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING!?” The others jumped at this outburst. Zick wished, for once, that he had some hair available to tear out.
“You didn’t ask,” said Kaycee smugly.
“Look, you maladjusted metal moron,” said Zick, regaining his original composure, “get your can in gear and fix anything you can!”
“Sure, whatever,” muttered Kaycee as he left the bridge. “But don’t you ever call me ‘Kaycee’ again. It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”
“Hang in there, folks,” said another voice over the radio. “We’re on our way over.”
“Negative!” yelled Zick. “Stay back, repeat, stay back! This is gonna hurt!” And with that he pressed a series of switches and launched several shuffleboard pucks at the encroaching fighters.
The projectiles were invisible at their great speed; going straight through the enemies’ deflector shields and through their craft with sheer velocity. They continued through row after row, occasionally bouncing off at an angle, but most of the bouncing was done by the damaged fighters which crashed into their neighbors, which crashed into their neighbors, which crashed into the bulky capital ship, and so on. When the explosions cleared there was a gaping hole in the blockade, and the Ankled Apex was already several kilometers away.
The surviving good guys, to use the term loosely, wasted no time in escaping. The surviving fighters held off pursuit because they were rightly scared stiff and trying to figure out what the blazes had just happened. The steady stream of missiles being launched from the capital ships, however, suffered no similar hesitation.
At least, not until it was almost too late. Moments before the first missile would have hit the last straggler, it, and all of its companions, suddenly seemed to stop and wonder if this was really all there was to their lot in life. They seemed to ponder it thoroughly, and eventually face the realization that the whole thing was futile, considering they were just going to blow up and all. Then it seemed that, unable to come to terms with this realization and unable to find an electronics counselor in the middle of space, they went into a demented rage and reversed course straight for whence they had come.
These would all be assumptions, and arguably silly ones at that, except for the part about reversing course for whence they had come. That was an undebatable fact.
***
“Did you see that!?” yelled Alicia.
“I know!” said Zick. “I can’t believe it worked that well!”
“No, after that! Just now! There were missiles…” she trailed off. They had escaped, that was the important thing, and it was pointless trying to explain such a ridiculous thing that clearly was not supposed to happen.
Suddenly, the warning lights and alarms stopped. Everyone had gotten used to them by now and was rather jolted by their absence.
Kaycee emerged from wherever he had gone. “There,” he said with an unmistakable air of smugness. “I fixed the shields and everything. Even threw in a little bonus. You’re welcome.”
“Impeccable timing,” said Zick.
“Bonus!?” yelled Buckton, not sure whether to be pleased or furious and deciding to be furious until then. “What have you done to my ship!?”
“Our ship,” said Zick softly.
“I touched your lousy ship no more than necessary. You know where the dirty tramp has been? Never mind. I was referring to the missiles I warded off, or didn’t you notice?”
“‘Warded off?’”
“Missiles chase ships. Kaycee hack into missile brains. Missiles reconsider life, turn around, hit bad guys, go boom. Ug,” he added as an afterthought.
“But – but…” Buckton shook his head, which then wobbled a bit by itself on his long flexible neck; and blinked a lot. “But, no one can hack into Skreel missile computers. Or any Skreel computers. Everyone’s tried it. It’s impossible.”
“Maybe you should read my manual. I do impossible things like Dargald’s does breakfast. It was easier than getting into The Big Z’s bank account. Not,” he added, truthfully yet unconvincingly, “that I’m speaking from experience or anything.”
Buckton shook his head again, and turned to help Zick program something in their own ship’s computer.
“Our ship,” Zick said again. “You remember that, right?”
“Huh? Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
Alicia was forced once again to take a long, hard look at Kaycee. She didn’t remember the manual mentioning impossible things. Come to think of it, she didn’t remember any manual at all. He had been fully operational when she received him, and simply started out indulging her every whim, just like Bert.
She remembered him holding up the building and shivered. If he could do that, and work this well with computers… and his personality had changed to the point where she no longer knew if she could trust him… well, she still didn’t want to think about it. So far he was still using his talents for good, and at the end of the day he was just a servant robot. There was nothing to worry about.
“Buckle up,” said Buckton. “Ready for hyperspace jump.”
The stars became fuzzy, and then, with deceptive slowness, stretched out into thinning streaks. With a lurch, they jumped past, and beyond was blackness. They were going beyond the speed of light, now, and therefore could not see it. It was one of the most incredible experiences of Alicia’s life. This is it, I’m in space! I’m alive, and I’m in space!
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Buckton brought up a star chart and pointed to a highlighted area. “The Trangoone system,” he said. “We should be there in just a couple hours.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Well, yeah. We’re not your average space cowboys, y’see. We’ve got a clearly defined mission within our clearly defined mission. The first clearly defined mission is to damage those transdimensional creeps as much as possible, and the one within that… well, look. Computer, zoom out, previous specifications.”
“Gladly,” it said.
“Now look,” he said. The view now showed half the Milky Way galaxy, with red dots on dozens of star systems. If connected, it appeared they would form a slightly lopsided daisy flower. His finger hovered on a star, and made its way past it from planet to planet. He tapped one, and another dot appeared there. “That’s Gragalla, in the Dante system,” he said.
“One thing I’ve been sort of wondering,” interrupted Alicia, “is why Gragalla? It’s of no strategic importance whatsoever, is it?”
“Element of surprise, we figure,” put in Zick. “Nothing else.”
“Y’see, I’ve been tracking this particular fleet, because, well…” Buckton stared at the floor, trying to hide the pain suddenly filling his eyes. “Never mind why,” he said at last, jerking up, “I’ve been tracking them, we’ve been tracking them, if you prefer, Zick; and by analyzing the pattern of planets they have a go at – they can’t go in a logical order, of course, they’d be anticipated and cut off – well, it was difficult, but I think I’ve figured out how to anticipate their next moves.”
“Because of the daisy shape?”
“Huh?”
“The pattern. It’s shaped like a daisy.”
“‘Daisy?’ I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s completely random, anyway. But I’ve figured out how these guys think, y’see, and I’ve tapped into that randomness. So. I’ve followed them, and helped the locals beat ‘em off. But this time, this time, I anticipate their move far enough in advance to beat them there. Unfortunately, it just so happens to be little ol’ Slacker Capital of the Universe. I say to myself” and here he made little puppets with his hands to accompany the dialogue, “I say, ‘Buck, buddy, there won’t be any military type guys to help you; you’ll be lucky to get out alive; are you sure you want to help the ungrateful snots?’ But then I say, ‘Look, Buck, this is my duty, and I’ve got to go through with it. Even if they all deserve to die horribly, I have to go through with it.’
“So I go, and I try to talk some sense into the planetary government. Since the planetary government is Earth and they don’t give a norchak’s bum anymore, I have to lower my standards a bit. I figure I could sway one city, and have them contact the rest. Hopefully my charisma is as good as I remember, right? But just my luck, I pick Riko City, don’t I? There’s this crazy irresponsible boozefest going on in the Town Hall building, which is ludicrously designed by the way, and when I eventually track down one council member, he tells me all the rest are off playing… space… shuffleboard…”
He looked at Zick. Zick looked at him.
“Far out,” said Zick.
“Right,” said Buckton. “Okay, so maybe I can’t complain. It’s not like they would’ve had a whole lot of firepower to give me anyway. But still. All of them on vacation. On the same day. Are these people stupid, or am I just completely oblivious to the wonderful workings of politics?”
“You may be oblivious to many things,” said Kaycee. “But your evaluation of politics is spot on.”
Buckton grinned. “Thanks, metal man. You all right sometimes.”
“Call me Kaycee.”
“So already on to Phase B, right, gathering refugees. I happen to talk with Hok’s little group, between songs, and I figure out they’ve gambled away their only ship. Since I’m such a big-hearted chap, and ‘cause they’ve got the best tunes this side of the Kranian Rift, I tell ‘em where to find the Apex and to get there in case of an emergency. They just laugh. Who’s laughing now? I try to persuade a few other people, but they tell me to bug off. I repeat, who’s laughing now? Not that I’m laughing. Anyway, you know the rest. I let everyone else escape first, since the building is inexplicably stuck mere meters off the ground, and when I get out the first thing I see through the smoke is you, uh –”
“Alicia,” said Alicia.
“Alicia, right, sorry. We won’t hold it against you. So, anyway, I’ve been brought up well, and I’m chivalrous and everything, and I know the proper thing to do for a lady in this case is to kidnap her. She doesn’t seem to agree, but that’s just how it is. Sometimes it ain’t so easy being a nice guy.” He grinned at her. She blushed.
“Well, I was a little panicked,” she said.
“Understandable. But now, in retrospect, it’s obviously a good thing I found you. The one broad on the entire planet who knows what needs to be done.” He grinned again. She blushed again. His grin vanished. “I am sorry about your father, by the way. There just wasn’t anything we could do.”
“I know.” The blood that had rushed to Alicia’s cheeks vanished, and water came to her eyes instead.
“And those losers who followed us, well, I guess Hok must have spilled his guts to somebody and of course they would get excited, right? We’re not without a fanbase, y’know. It’s mostly me but,” he added quickly as Zick coughed in annoyance, “that’s only because I’m the one who does all our ‘public’ work, y’know, the alerts and the refugees and whatnot. Usually works out better than this, but we’re alive to fight another day and that’s always something to be grateful for!”
“That’s great,” said Zick. “That’s real great. But we need to pinpoint which exact planet they’ll be going at next, so we can warn them straight off when we leave hyperspace. You gotta help me, Buck, I’m terrible with numbers.”
“No kidding.” Buckton winked at Alicia and Kaycee, and turned to the chart. “Let’s see. Previous target Gragalla, before that, Antwarine… and an extra element of surprise…”
“Balvador,” said Kaycee.
“What?”
“Balvador.”
“Balvador? You haven’t studied these dots like I have, pal, you don’t know what you’re getting at. Balvador’s not even in the Trangoone system.”
“Would you like to bet on that?” Kaycee asked calmly.
Buckton suddenly became hesitant. “Wellllll…”
Fortunately for his bank account, Zick zoomed the display in on the highlighted region. With a slight sheepish grin at Buckton, he tapped at one medium-sized planet near the beginning of the system.
“‘Balvador.’ Huh. Well I’ll be a raksnak’s nephew.” Buckton shrugged at Kaycee. “All right, you got me. But are you sure that’s it?”
“Positive,” said Kaycee. He did not even attempt sarcasm. “If the rest of these calculations have held true, anyway.”
“Oh they have, baby, they have. All right. Balvador it is. Sorry folks, Zick and I are gonna need to do some research, y’know, figure out the best tactics and stuff to use. Probably won’t take the whole trip but we’d best get going anyway just in case. Say, Kaycee, you can help us with that. And Alicia, I’d suggest you get some sleep. Don’t know the next time you’ll get a chance.”
“That,” said Alicia, suddenly realizing how overwhelmed she was by all these recent events; to the extent that when she unbuckled and stood up she hardly cared about the miscellaneous crumbs and wads of gum that had turned out to be on the seat of the chair and had transferred themselves to the seat of her pants, “is the best thing anyone’s said to me all day.”
***
On the bridge of one capital Skreel ship which had just emerged from hyperspace to witness the blockade crushing the civilians’ escape, terror reigned. The underlings scuttled about, pretending not to notice their comrade who had just handed a recovered shuffleboard puck to their commander, pretending not to be worried about its, and their own, fate if the commander got annoyed at this ridiculous turn of events.
The commander turned it over, letting it catch what little light penetrated the sparse windows. Finally it spoke, in that strange, fearsome language they had; “You say you found this…?”
“Lodged in the skull of my bunkmate near the hull breach,” the underling responded. “Lodged very, very deeply I might add.”
“I see.” The commander turned it around some more, but it yielded no secrets. “Very well then,” it said. “Return to your duties. I will consider whether to reward you later.”
The underling hastily bowed and left, only too happy to still have its head and limbs attached. The commander was not in its high position for good looks.
The commander thought a while, and then suddenly rushed to a communications console. It tapped in a priority top-secret code and waited.
In a minute, an image appeared. The image looked nearly identical to the commander even to the Skreel themselves, aside from perhaps being larger and slightly more angular around the ribs, but these differences were hardly noticeable on the reduced hologram. Still, it radiated an aura of fear which, again even to the Skreel themselves, was unmistakable from all the other auras of fear which they generated.
“Yes?” it said.
The commander bowed. “The planet has been vanquished. The last pockets of resistance are being wiped out as we speak. But…”
“Yes?” it hissed, anxiously.
“Buckton Roor and Zickle Farbreing have escaped.”
The other creature slapped its forehead in exasperation. “Of course they have.”
“I’m dreadfully sorry, sir.”
“It isn’t your fault. You were pathetically under-resourced. Not everyone here appreciates the importance of my prerogative.”
“I tell you, without military support they would have bit off more than they can chew this time! They would never have escaped but for an unattended game of space shuffleboard, the players of which our space troopers had already disposed of, and –”
“Space shuffleboard. What a trivial game. I wonder that we haven’t conquered this universe already. ‘And?’ ‘And’, did you say?”
“Yes, sir. And – now this is the clincher, this is the big thing, this really takes the cake; someone hacked into our guided missile computers and sent them back at us causing almost, but not quite, as much damage as the shuffleboard pucks.”
“Someone… hacked into…”
“The missiles, yes.”
The holographic creature stroked its chin and pondered. It was clearly a bit stupefied about this turn of events, as all the rest of them had been. “Well, you established a trace, I hope?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll send it to you now.” It tapped some buttons on its console. “There it goes…”
The creature in the image turned away to study its own computer screen. “Interesting,” it said. “I wonder…”
“Sir?”
“It occurs to me that any computer or robot capable of hacking into our military systems must be owned by Buckton and Zickle. I don’t have to remind you, of course, that if there’s a way to make nuisances of themselves, they’ll do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well then. Anyhow, time to move on. I had a feeling this might not work anyway. Always have a contingency plan, that’s what I say.”
“Sir, our troopers weren’t able to attach a homing beacon. They were sort of… scraped off the ship.”
“Yes, I expected that. You know they use that maneuver every time. No one else dares. Don’t worry, I have it covered. I will know exactly where they go, and when. They will not continue to elude me for long.”
“I certainly hope not, sir.”
“All right. Finish cleaning up that planet and then head to your next assignment. Depending on how this works out, your involvement in this plan has either ended, or just begun. Either way however, you will be greatly rewarded, I promise you that.”
“Thank you, sir. But, if you will forgive the bluntness, how can I trust you?”
It may have been a trick of the holographic light, but the creature seemed to smile. “If – when those two pests are eliminated,” it assured it sincerely, “my gratitude will be such that any questions of trustworthiness shall vanish.”
“All right then, sir. I’d best get on with things here. Good luck.”
“Same to you.” The creature’s face grew larger as it leaned closer to the holographic pickup, trying to find the off switch.
“Um, sir?” inquired the Gragallan blockade commander. “If you will kindly forgive the bluntness again, what’s that stuff on your lip?”
The other creature paused and wiped at it. It was a small lump of something gray and squishy. “Oh, that,” it said, laughing in that strange, barbaric way. “Something to remember my last guest by. She won’t be needing it anymore. She barely used it anyway.”
***
With Kaycee’s help, Buckton and Zick made their calculations in record time, and the rest of the trip passed rather uneventfully. They went and listened to the Bleeming Squeegees rehearse, but Hok complained that no one was supposed to listen to rehearsals because everyone ended up socializing and nothing got done.
“It’ll take more than that to save your act,” said Kaycee, but he left with them.
Zick went to check on Alicia. “Sleeping like a baby,” he said. “What a cute kid.”
“Then it’s just us three,” said Buckton. He smiled. “Almost, but not quite, like old times. Y’know I don’t mind telling you both now, I thought we were goners back there. That was some quick thinking from each of you.”
“We won’t bother getting new torpedoes like we planned, now,” laughed Zick, “just head for the nearest sporting department.”
“But don’t,” said Kaycee, “ever get a new robot.”
They both laughed. “You’re not mine to replace,” reassured Buckton. “Although I will certainly lobby to have your personality overhauled, a little.”
“Over my broken sparking circuits,” said Kaycee, and they laughed again.
A sort of bond was developing. It was a rare sort of bond, because often, organic beings took the robots around them for granted, and paid them no mind. But those who took the time to get to know them, and form this bond, found themselves happier enriched organic beings for it. So it had been with Alicia, and so, in spite of Kaycee’s recently adopted bad attitude, it was with Buckton and Zick.
They chatted idly for the remainder of the trip. But the moment they emerged from hyperspace, Kaycee felt that something was wrong, and a nanosecond later, an SOS alarm blaring over the ship’s speakers confirmed his suspicions.
“Snap,” said Buckton, as Zick rapidly flipped a switch to display the message.
A hologram appeared of a solemn, middle-aged man who looked as though he had aged not with time, but with experience. Static marred his visage but it was easy enough to make out both him and his words. He spoke slowly and succinctly, but the panic in his voice was unmistakable.
“Greetings, friends,” he said. “I am Gavolt, Royal Vizier of the Hwangawine District of planet Ypiupi, in the Trangoone system. Our previous Queen has been kidnapped and executed” (there was a hint of a smile here, but one had to be quick to spot it) “and we are about to fall under attack by the Skreel. We recognize that you are probably very busy, and that our previous Queen has not set an example which would make others eager to help. However, I implore you, out of the goodness of your hearts, to come to our aid. This is our most desperate hour. Help us, please, whoever you are, you are our only hope.”
“Fascinating…” murmured Buckton and Zick together. They understood the language he spoke, having learned it in preparation for their visit to this system.
“Might I add,” Gavolt continued, “that our new monarch is every bit as sexy as the previous one, being in fact nearly identical, and some even argue that she has nicer feet; but she is far superior in that she is kind and sweet and gentle. I am sure if some brave soul were to help her, she would be very grateful.” There was a pause as he looked distractedly over his shoulder, as if listening to someone. “But you would be, right?” he said. “I just – look, I’m not implying anything. I never said – look, you want someone to help us, right? I know, but you have to leave. We’ve settled that. Can’t you just – look, this thing’s still on, can we talk about it later?”
He turned back to face them. “Please, hurry. Oshawah go with you, friends.” The transmission cut off.
Everyone, including Kaycee, was speechless for a moment.
Then, “Feet? I dunno, I’m not particularly into human feet, are you, Buck?” asked Zick.
Buckton shrugged. “Not really into humans at all, but if anything, I’m more of an elbows guy, myself,” he admitted.
There is something to be said about various species’ different erogenous zones and where they overlap or change completely and the occasionally hilarious, but more often just deeply disturbing, results when these different species take to the stars and mix. However, now is neither the time nor the place, for it would distract from the important thing going on, which only Kaycee right now seemed to be grasping.
“Look, you hormonal harebrained honchos, don’t you get it?” he exploded. “That’s not the point. This planet needs our help. Right now.”
Buckton frowned. “It’s a couple planets away from Balvador,” he said. “Your calculations must have been wrong.”
“They were not! But if they were, which they were not, then that would be irrelevant now! One planet, another planet, who cares, we have to help them!”
“I’ve heard about their Queen, the one who got kidnapped,” said Buckton. “From what everyone says, she was one nasty you-know-what. I can’t imagine the rest of the district, or planet for that matter since the district is like half of it, can be much better if she was allowed to stay in power.”
“But maybe her sister’s the new one they’re talking about,” said Zick. “She was nice, wasn’t she? Quiet type, too.”
“I suppose,” said Buckton. “But what if they’re lying about a new Queen, just so someone will help them? You remember that bit at the end?”
“Look,” said Kaycee, “I don’t see why it’s always about women, with any species. Buckton, you said you were a big-hearted chap. Zick, you hang out with him. And you tried to save strakking Gragalla, for crying out loud. I mean, you wanna talk about reputations, there’s a planet that’s hated from here to Q-60. If you’re going to be this selective about whom you help, simply because you don’t like an individual or even worse, simply because it isn’t on your schedule, which I calculated perfectly by the way, then whatever you’re in this for is not what Alicia is, and neither of you are friends of hers or mine.”
The pain returned to Buckton’s eyes. He stared at the floor again. Zick gently laid an arm around his shoulder.
“You’re right,” he said at last, softly, not looking up. “You’re absolutely right.” He forced a laugh. “That’s pretty deep for a cynical robot,” he said.
“Hey, I wasn’t always a cynical robot,” said Kaycee. He looked sympathetic, insofar as it is possible for a robot to look sympathetic. Both he and Buckton were clearly carrying some sort of burden that they didn’t want to share, but they shared the knowledge that they had burdens they didn’t want to share, and for now, that was enough.
Buckton didn’t feel comfortable sharing with any hunk of metal besides his precious ship and decided to regain his composure. He cleared his throat. “All right,” he said with newfound determination, “let’s go.”
Zick frowned. “I can’t get back ahold of them,” he said nervously. “Kaycee –”
“It would be difficult even for me, since they’re actively being jammed. It would take time we don’t have.”
“One of us will have to actually go see them then. It could be a trap…”
“Sounding better every minute,” said Buckton as the gleam returned to his eye. “Come on. Into the unknown.”
Next: Chapter Six
“You’re a rogue,” said Alicia in surprise, “and this battle is in your league. We’ll be fine.”
“Such logic. I am relieved,” said Kaycee.
“You’re right, what was I thinking?” said Buckton. He turned the ship around, opened fire and pulverized all of the missiles. The shock wave swept them backwards and both pilots struggled to regain control of the ship.
“Whenever I’ve gone up against a blockade,” he explained, “I’ve had other guys helping me. But that, come to think of it, was at planets where the government wasn’t moronic and actually contributed to The War. I don’t know why I wanted to help this one, why I felt sorry for it. Certainly the sorts of scum who live here don’t deserve it.”
“I’m not like that,” protested Alicia.
“I know, I figured that out,” said Buckton. “But the point is that here, it’s just a bunch of civilian ships. And none of them are prepared because they spend all their time at parties. I bet half of them aren’t even sober.”
“That’s a conservative estimate,” said Kaycee.
“The only reason I brought it up,” mumbled Zick, “is that it’s very odd to find a shuffleboard floating through space…”
“Probably a political thing,” said Buckton. “They’ll do anything to avoid any actual work, on any planet.”
“Hmmm…” said Zick, and suddenly sucked all the pucks up with the tractor beam. “You’re probably right,” he added. “Space shuffleboard. What a sport.”
The Skreel ships were now practically on top of them, and chose this moment to open fire with traditional lasers, which were less precise and damaging but much faster and more numerous.
“I prefer this one, myself,” said Buckton, as they effortlessly maneuvered the Apex into a flawless dive and didn’t get hit with a single bolt.
“Today’s champion is tomorrow’s space dust,” Kaycee said darkly.
Alicia looked back anxiously. Most of their followers had attempted to follow the dive. Some got caught in the fire anyway, but only one caught the brunt of it and exploded.
“Evil Monsters one, Good Guys zero,” she muttered.
“Can we quit it with the sports analogy?” Zick snapped. “Come on. This is life or death stuff.” They swooped back up and fired at a Skreel ship’s underbelly, then darted away before it could get a lock on them.
Alicia looked back again and saw the other good guys doing the same thing. It seemed to be working. Only a few stray enemy bolts found their marks.
“This is like the doyoug versus the gorglywump,” she said brightly, referring to a couple of the Gragallan faunas that no one ever actually saw except in books because the rats had persuaded them to leave all human-populated areas. “Our small size is actually an advantage.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” said Kaycee. Her temper snapped and for the first time in her life, she switched him off.
“We’ll just keep this up,” she continued, her earlier confidence positively blossoming, “and eventually, they will fall, because their great size works against them. This is awesome.”
“Um, yeah, about that, sister…” Buckton looked a little sheepish.
The underbelly they were currently firing at opened. They pumped as much fire into the ship’s interior as they could and then split, for a very good reason. For several thousand very good reasons, in fact, though they didn’t all pertain to this particular ship.
“Fighters coming in,” reported Zick, unnecessarily.
She saw them. They were ugly gray blistery things that would have been screwed were they condemned to follow the normal laws of aerodynamics. They had wings, but there the resemblance to a flying thing ended and to a cosmic loogie began. Also, they were riddled with weaponry that returned whatever fire came at them with interest. Or maybe some of it was a sensor array. There didn’t, after all, seem to be a window of any sort, and she didn’t know whether they were piloted by actual Skreel or remote control or automation, or what. Most importantly, they were swarming out of the larger, bulkier ships.
Alicia began to get a bit nervous again, and switched Kaycee back on for comfort. “What do you think I am,” he said, “a pacemaker or something, you can just switch on and off at your leisure? I have feelings too, all right!”
“Lady,” said a voice over the radio, “is your robot always that annoying?”
“No, it’s just that time of month,” she lied. “He needs a recharge.” She was embarrassed because she hadn’t realized they were actually connected to the other ships. Somebody had been thinking. So, if they were somehow blind enough to have missed the fighters, they would understand what was hammering them to oblivion.
And us too, she thought as the Apex shook under this new barrage. Their odds of survival had diminished slightly.
For the second time in her life she switched off Kaycee, who was trading increasingly personal insults with the guy on the radio, and then leaned forward intently in her chair. They were hemmed in, no doubt about it. Luckily, however, space is three-dimensional. They went into a dive again.
And there they found that another of the large Skreel ships had come up underneath them. They did a strafing run across its length ending at the sensor arrays and deflector shield generators, which exploded satisfactorily. Buckton wasn’t satisfied, though. “It’s a redundant system,” he explained, “the important stuff’s inside. This just frees up space for soldiers and war machines and crap.”
This turned out to be a magnificent plan, however, because as long as they were hugging the huge ship with the fighters right behind, neither would risk firing at them. He went back and did another strafing run, and another, and another. He started to whistle cheerfully.
Alicia switched Kaycee on. “Look, isn’t this funny?” she said, hoping to cheer him up.
Kaycee looked doubtful, insofar as it is possible for a robot to look doubtful. “Hilarious,” he said at last. “How foolish of me not to realize, at first, that this is entertainment.”
She sighed. “Not as such, Kaycee, not as such. I meant ironic. This is like the doyoug, the gorglywump, and a swarm of quordlepleens.”
Kaycee didn’t get what all the fuss was about. The only thing bothering him was the fact that they were about to die.”
“I count about a hundred friendlies left on our scopes,” Zick reported. “Better than I expected.”
“Yeah,” said Buckton, “I hope they’re all following our lead still. This is the greatest trick ever. Except –”
With a series of loud clangs, a swarm of Skreel attached themselves to the ship. Alicia could see them all over the cockpit, blocking their view of everything with a hideous mass of living flesh. She had never seen so many, this close, looking this bloodthirsty, and she would never forget it. One of them made eye contact and she screamed. Fortunately her stomach and bladder were both empty and the earlier fiasco was not repeated.
“Get ‘em off, quick!” yelled Buckton. He imagined them, elsewhere on the ship’s surface, ripping at the hull, destroying it piece by piece.
“Try to do better than last time!” yelled Zick, raising an eyebrow meaningfully.
“Sure.” They both gritted their teeth and flew, not by instrument, but by instinct. They flew the ship upside down and lowered it ever closer to the massive one below. The Skreel seemed to realize what was going on and scrambled around a bit nervously. Then one by one they came off, messy smears on their own capital ship which was now suddenly visible as being far too close for comfort. Buckton and Zick backed off, flipped back over and repeated the maneuver for the ones that had been gathering on the other side in the meantime.
Suddenly, the ship beneath them began to fire again, indiscriminately. They had a sickening taste of what it was like to get their own underbelly blasted. Warning lights and alarms began to go off around the ship.
Hok Tubok burst onto the bridge. “Dude, like, what the snap is going on?” he demanded. “We’re trying to rehearse for our next gig in the Pleiades.”
“I’ll let Kaycee explain it for you,” said Alicia, who had no patience for this sort of behavior from this sort of person in this sort of circumstances. “Kaycee,” she said, “tell the nice man what’s going on.”
Kaycee shook his head in genuine confusion. “We’re getting our miserable rumps blown to space dust and taking our time about it, that’s what’s happening,” he said. “And it’s very funny.”
Hok frowned. “Buckton, man, can’t you do something?”
“I’m doing, I’m doing!” he screamed. He was trying to roll off the side and get as much distance between them and the large ship as possible, and it wasn’t working because the fighters were still swarming around him, in spite of the fire which was spilling into their own ranks; occasionally adding shots of their own. And making them count.
“Besides,” said Kaycee as the ship was jolted hard to the side and sent anyone not buckled down flying across the bridge, “you do not have a gig in the Pleiades. You’ve never been past the Horsehead Nebula.”
“Well, when they see how awesome we are, they’ll give us a gig,” Hok insisted, picking himself off the floor. The ship was jolted again and as he flew in the opposite direction, the lights and alarms increased in intensity, then decreased as Buckton and Zick diverted their power to the rapidly fading deflector shields.
“‘If,’ not ‘when,’” retorted Kaycee. “A very big ‘if.’”
Hok turned pale and left.
“Hang on,” said Zick, “Take over the rest for a minute, will you Bucky? I gotta calibrate something here.”
“Sure, be my guest,” said Buckton more calmly. “It’s no trouble at all.” He fired at the gun emplacements that were making things difficult, but there were always more, and their range was impeccable. He wondered if he should hold still and concentrate on one spot until he made a hole, but thought no, they’d have us in seconds. Best to keep it going, and make those monsters pay till it was all over.
“Say Kaycee,” said Zick as he worked on whatever he was doing, “do you know anything about starship repair?”
Kaycee scoffed. “‘Do I know anything about starship repair?’” he mimicked. “I am deeply offended by that question. Of course I do! It’s my –”
“So you could help keep this one going for a while?” Zick pressed, brightening.
“Of course I can! Do you want my strakking manual?”
“THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING!?” The others jumped at this outburst. Zick wished, for once, that he had some hair available to tear out.
“You didn’t ask,” said Kaycee smugly.
“Look, you maladjusted metal moron,” said Zick, regaining his original composure, “get your can in gear and fix anything you can!”
“Sure, whatever,” muttered Kaycee as he left the bridge. “But don’t you ever call me ‘Kaycee’ again. It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”
“Hang in there, folks,” said another voice over the radio. “We’re on our way over.”
“Negative!” yelled Zick. “Stay back, repeat, stay back! This is gonna hurt!” And with that he pressed a series of switches and launched several shuffleboard pucks at the encroaching fighters.
The projectiles were invisible at their great speed; going straight through the enemies’ deflector shields and through their craft with sheer velocity. They continued through row after row, occasionally bouncing off at an angle, but most of the bouncing was done by the damaged fighters which crashed into their neighbors, which crashed into their neighbors, which crashed into the bulky capital ship, and so on. When the explosions cleared there was a gaping hole in the blockade, and the Ankled Apex was already several kilometers away.
The surviving good guys, to use the term loosely, wasted no time in escaping. The surviving fighters held off pursuit because they were rightly scared stiff and trying to figure out what the blazes had just happened. The steady stream of missiles being launched from the capital ships, however, suffered no similar hesitation.
At least, not until it was almost too late. Moments before the first missile would have hit the last straggler, it, and all of its companions, suddenly seemed to stop and wonder if this was really all there was to their lot in life. They seemed to ponder it thoroughly, and eventually face the realization that the whole thing was futile, considering they were just going to blow up and all. Then it seemed that, unable to come to terms with this realization and unable to find an electronics counselor in the middle of space, they went into a demented rage and reversed course straight for whence they had come.
These would all be assumptions, and arguably silly ones at that, except for the part about reversing course for whence they had come. That was an undebatable fact.
***
“Did you see that!?” yelled Alicia.
“I know!” said Zick. “I can’t believe it worked that well!”
“No, after that! Just now! There were missiles…” she trailed off. They had escaped, that was the important thing, and it was pointless trying to explain such a ridiculous thing that clearly was not supposed to happen.
Suddenly, the warning lights and alarms stopped. Everyone had gotten used to them by now and was rather jolted by their absence.
Kaycee emerged from wherever he had gone. “There,” he said with an unmistakable air of smugness. “I fixed the shields and everything. Even threw in a little bonus. You’re welcome.”
“Impeccable timing,” said Zick.
“Bonus!?” yelled Buckton, not sure whether to be pleased or furious and deciding to be furious until then. “What have you done to my ship!?”
“Our ship,” said Zick softly.
“I touched your lousy ship no more than necessary. You know where the dirty tramp has been? Never mind. I was referring to the missiles I warded off, or didn’t you notice?”
“‘Warded off?’”
“Missiles chase ships. Kaycee hack into missile brains. Missiles reconsider life, turn around, hit bad guys, go boom. Ug,” he added as an afterthought.
“But – but…” Buckton shook his head, which then wobbled a bit by itself on his long flexible neck; and blinked a lot. “But, no one can hack into Skreel missile computers. Or any Skreel computers. Everyone’s tried it. It’s impossible.”
“Maybe you should read my manual. I do impossible things like Dargald’s does breakfast. It was easier than getting into The Big Z’s bank account. Not,” he added, truthfully yet unconvincingly, “that I’m speaking from experience or anything.”
Buckton shook his head again, and turned to help Zick program something in their own ship’s computer.
“Our ship,” Zick said again. “You remember that, right?”
“Huh? Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
Alicia was forced once again to take a long, hard look at Kaycee. She didn’t remember the manual mentioning impossible things. Come to think of it, she didn’t remember any manual at all. He had been fully operational when she received him, and simply started out indulging her every whim, just like Bert.
She remembered him holding up the building and shivered. If he could do that, and work this well with computers… and his personality had changed to the point where she no longer knew if she could trust him… well, she still didn’t want to think about it. So far he was still using his talents for good, and at the end of the day he was just a servant robot. There was nothing to worry about.
“Buckle up,” said Buckton. “Ready for hyperspace jump.”
The stars became fuzzy, and then, with deceptive slowness, stretched out into thinning streaks. With a lurch, they jumped past, and beyond was blackness. They were going beyond the speed of light, now, and therefore could not see it. It was one of the most incredible experiences of Alicia’s life. This is it, I’m in space! I’m alive, and I’m in space!
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Buckton brought up a star chart and pointed to a highlighted area. “The Trangoone system,” he said. “We should be there in just a couple hours.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Well, yeah. We’re not your average space cowboys, y’see. We’ve got a clearly defined mission within our clearly defined mission. The first clearly defined mission is to damage those transdimensional creeps as much as possible, and the one within that… well, look. Computer, zoom out, previous specifications.”
“Gladly,” it said.
“Now look,” he said. The view now showed half the Milky Way galaxy, with red dots on dozens of star systems. If connected, it appeared they would form a slightly lopsided daisy flower. His finger hovered on a star, and made its way past it from planet to planet. He tapped one, and another dot appeared there. “That’s Gragalla, in the Dante system,” he said.
“One thing I’ve been sort of wondering,” interrupted Alicia, “is why Gragalla? It’s of no strategic importance whatsoever, is it?”
“Element of surprise, we figure,” put in Zick. “Nothing else.”
“Y’see, I’ve been tracking this particular fleet, because, well…” Buckton stared at the floor, trying to hide the pain suddenly filling his eyes. “Never mind why,” he said at last, jerking up, “I’ve been tracking them, we’ve been tracking them, if you prefer, Zick; and by analyzing the pattern of planets they have a go at – they can’t go in a logical order, of course, they’d be anticipated and cut off – well, it was difficult, but I think I’ve figured out how to anticipate their next moves.”
“Because of the daisy shape?”
“Huh?”
“The pattern. It’s shaped like a daisy.”
“‘Daisy?’ I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s completely random, anyway. But I’ve figured out how these guys think, y’see, and I’ve tapped into that randomness. So. I’ve followed them, and helped the locals beat ‘em off. But this time, this time, I anticipate their move far enough in advance to beat them there. Unfortunately, it just so happens to be little ol’ Slacker Capital of the Universe. I say to myself” and here he made little puppets with his hands to accompany the dialogue, “I say, ‘Buck, buddy, there won’t be any military type guys to help you; you’ll be lucky to get out alive; are you sure you want to help the ungrateful snots?’ But then I say, ‘Look, Buck, this is my duty, and I’ve got to go through with it. Even if they all deserve to die horribly, I have to go through with it.’
“So I go, and I try to talk some sense into the planetary government. Since the planetary government is Earth and they don’t give a norchak’s bum anymore, I have to lower my standards a bit. I figure I could sway one city, and have them contact the rest. Hopefully my charisma is as good as I remember, right? But just my luck, I pick Riko City, don’t I? There’s this crazy irresponsible boozefest going on in the Town Hall building, which is ludicrously designed by the way, and when I eventually track down one council member, he tells me all the rest are off playing… space… shuffleboard…”
He looked at Zick. Zick looked at him.
“Far out,” said Zick.
“Right,” said Buckton. “Okay, so maybe I can’t complain. It’s not like they would’ve had a whole lot of firepower to give me anyway. But still. All of them on vacation. On the same day. Are these people stupid, or am I just completely oblivious to the wonderful workings of politics?”
“You may be oblivious to many things,” said Kaycee. “But your evaluation of politics is spot on.”
Buckton grinned. “Thanks, metal man. You all right sometimes.”
“Call me Kaycee.”
“So already on to Phase B, right, gathering refugees. I happen to talk with Hok’s little group, between songs, and I figure out they’ve gambled away their only ship. Since I’m such a big-hearted chap, and ‘cause they’ve got the best tunes this side of the Kranian Rift, I tell ‘em where to find the Apex and to get there in case of an emergency. They just laugh. Who’s laughing now? I try to persuade a few other people, but they tell me to bug off. I repeat, who’s laughing now? Not that I’m laughing. Anyway, you know the rest. I let everyone else escape first, since the building is inexplicably stuck mere meters off the ground, and when I get out the first thing I see through the smoke is you, uh –”
“Alicia,” said Alicia.
“Alicia, right, sorry. We won’t hold it against you. So, anyway, I’ve been brought up well, and I’m chivalrous and everything, and I know the proper thing to do for a lady in this case is to kidnap her. She doesn’t seem to agree, but that’s just how it is. Sometimes it ain’t so easy being a nice guy.” He grinned at her. She blushed.
“Well, I was a little panicked,” she said.
“Understandable. But now, in retrospect, it’s obviously a good thing I found you. The one broad on the entire planet who knows what needs to be done.” He grinned again. She blushed again. His grin vanished. “I am sorry about your father, by the way. There just wasn’t anything we could do.”
“I know.” The blood that had rushed to Alicia’s cheeks vanished, and water came to her eyes instead.
“And those losers who followed us, well, I guess Hok must have spilled his guts to somebody and of course they would get excited, right? We’re not without a fanbase, y’know. It’s mostly me but,” he added quickly as Zick coughed in annoyance, “that’s only because I’m the one who does all our ‘public’ work, y’know, the alerts and the refugees and whatnot. Usually works out better than this, but we’re alive to fight another day and that’s always something to be grateful for!”
“That’s great,” said Zick. “That’s real great. But we need to pinpoint which exact planet they’ll be going at next, so we can warn them straight off when we leave hyperspace. You gotta help me, Buck, I’m terrible with numbers.”
“No kidding.” Buckton winked at Alicia and Kaycee, and turned to the chart. “Let’s see. Previous target Gragalla, before that, Antwarine… and an extra element of surprise…”
“Balvador,” said Kaycee.
“What?”
“Balvador.”
“Balvador? You haven’t studied these dots like I have, pal, you don’t know what you’re getting at. Balvador’s not even in the Trangoone system.”
“Would you like to bet on that?” Kaycee asked calmly.
Buckton suddenly became hesitant. “Wellllll…”
Fortunately for his bank account, Zick zoomed the display in on the highlighted region. With a slight sheepish grin at Buckton, he tapped at one medium-sized planet near the beginning of the system.
“‘Balvador.’ Huh. Well I’ll be a raksnak’s nephew.” Buckton shrugged at Kaycee. “All right, you got me. But are you sure that’s it?”
“Positive,” said Kaycee. He did not even attempt sarcasm. “If the rest of these calculations have held true, anyway.”
“Oh they have, baby, they have. All right. Balvador it is. Sorry folks, Zick and I are gonna need to do some research, y’know, figure out the best tactics and stuff to use. Probably won’t take the whole trip but we’d best get going anyway just in case. Say, Kaycee, you can help us with that. And Alicia, I’d suggest you get some sleep. Don’t know the next time you’ll get a chance.”
“That,” said Alicia, suddenly realizing how overwhelmed she was by all these recent events; to the extent that when she unbuckled and stood up she hardly cared about the miscellaneous crumbs and wads of gum that had turned out to be on the seat of the chair and had transferred themselves to the seat of her pants, “is the best thing anyone’s said to me all day.”
***
On the bridge of one capital Skreel ship which had just emerged from hyperspace to witness the blockade crushing the civilians’ escape, terror reigned. The underlings scuttled about, pretending not to notice their comrade who had just handed a recovered shuffleboard puck to their commander, pretending not to be worried about its, and their own, fate if the commander got annoyed at this ridiculous turn of events.
The commander turned it over, letting it catch what little light penetrated the sparse windows. Finally it spoke, in that strange, fearsome language they had; “You say you found this…?”
“Lodged in the skull of my bunkmate near the hull breach,” the underling responded. “Lodged very, very deeply I might add.”
“I see.” The commander turned it around some more, but it yielded no secrets. “Very well then,” it said. “Return to your duties. I will consider whether to reward you later.”
The underling hastily bowed and left, only too happy to still have its head and limbs attached. The commander was not in its high position for good looks.
The commander thought a while, and then suddenly rushed to a communications console. It tapped in a priority top-secret code and waited.
In a minute, an image appeared. The image looked nearly identical to the commander even to the Skreel themselves, aside from perhaps being larger and slightly more angular around the ribs, but these differences were hardly noticeable on the reduced hologram. Still, it radiated an aura of fear which, again even to the Skreel themselves, was unmistakable from all the other auras of fear which they generated.
“Yes?” it said.
The commander bowed. “The planet has been vanquished. The last pockets of resistance are being wiped out as we speak. But…”
“Yes?” it hissed, anxiously.
“Buckton Roor and Zickle Farbreing have escaped.”
The other creature slapped its forehead in exasperation. “Of course they have.”
“I’m dreadfully sorry, sir.”
“It isn’t your fault. You were pathetically under-resourced. Not everyone here appreciates the importance of my prerogative.”
“I tell you, without military support they would have bit off more than they can chew this time! They would never have escaped but for an unattended game of space shuffleboard, the players of which our space troopers had already disposed of, and –”
“Space shuffleboard. What a trivial game. I wonder that we haven’t conquered this universe already. ‘And?’ ‘And’, did you say?”
“Yes, sir. And – now this is the clincher, this is the big thing, this really takes the cake; someone hacked into our guided missile computers and sent them back at us causing almost, but not quite, as much damage as the shuffleboard pucks.”
“Someone… hacked into…”
“The missiles, yes.”
The holographic creature stroked its chin and pondered. It was clearly a bit stupefied about this turn of events, as all the rest of them had been. “Well, you established a trace, I hope?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll send it to you now.” It tapped some buttons on its console. “There it goes…”
The creature in the image turned away to study its own computer screen. “Interesting,” it said. “I wonder…”
“Sir?”
“It occurs to me that any computer or robot capable of hacking into our military systems must be owned by Buckton and Zickle. I don’t have to remind you, of course, that if there’s a way to make nuisances of themselves, they’ll do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well then. Anyhow, time to move on. I had a feeling this might not work anyway. Always have a contingency plan, that’s what I say.”
“Sir, our troopers weren’t able to attach a homing beacon. They were sort of… scraped off the ship.”
“Yes, I expected that. You know they use that maneuver every time. No one else dares. Don’t worry, I have it covered. I will know exactly where they go, and when. They will not continue to elude me for long.”
“I certainly hope not, sir.”
“All right. Finish cleaning up that planet and then head to your next assignment. Depending on how this works out, your involvement in this plan has either ended, or just begun. Either way however, you will be greatly rewarded, I promise you that.”
“Thank you, sir. But, if you will forgive the bluntness, how can I trust you?”
It may have been a trick of the holographic light, but the creature seemed to smile. “If – when those two pests are eliminated,” it assured it sincerely, “my gratitude will be such that any questions of trustworthiness shall vanish.”
“All right then, sir. I’d best get on with things here. Good luck.”
“Same to you.” The creature’s face grew larger as it leaned closer to the holographic pickup, trying to find the off switch.
“Um, sir?” inquired the Gragallan blockade commander. “If you will kindly forgive the bluntness again, what’s that stuff on your lip?”
The other creature paused and wiped at it. It was a small lump of something gray and squishy. “Oh, that,” it said, laughing in that strange, barbaric way. “Something to remember my last guest by. She won’t be needing it anymore. She barely used it anyway.”
***
With Kaycee’s help, Buckton and Zick made their calculations in record time, and the rest of the trip passed rather uneventfully. They went and listened to the Bleeming Squeegees rehearse, but Hok complained that no one was supposed to listen to rehearsals because everyone ended up socializing and nothing got done.
“It’ll take more than that to save your act,” said Kaycee, but he left with them.
Zick went to check on Alicia. “Sleeping like a baby,” he said. “What a cute kid.”
“Then it’s just us three,” said Buckton. He smiled. “Almost, but not quite, like old times. Y’know I don’t mind telling you both now, I thought we were goners back there. That was some quick thinking from each of you.”
“We won’t bother getting new torpedoes like we planned, now,” laughed Zick, “just head for the nearest sporting department.”
“But don’t,” said Kaycee, “ever get a new robot.”
They both laughed. “You’re not mine to replace,” reassured Buckton. “Although I will certainly lobby to have your personality overhauled, a little.”
“Over my broken sparking circuits,” said Kaycee, and they laughed again.
A sort of bond was developing. It was a rare sort of bond, because often, organic beings took the robots around them for granted, and paid them no mind. But those who took the time to get to know them, and form this bond, found themselves happier enriched organic beings for it. So it had been with Alicia, and so, in spite of Kaycee’s recently adopted bad attitude, it was with Buckton and Zick.
They chatted idly for the remainder of the trip. But the moment they emerged from hyperspace, Kaycee felt that something was wrong, and a nanosecond later, an SOS alarm blaring over the ship’s speakers confirmed his suspicions.
“Snap,” said Buckton, as Zick rapidly flipped a switch to display the message.
A hologram appeared of a solemn, middle-aged man who looked as though he had aged not with time, but with experience. Static marred his visage but it was easy enough to make out both him and his words. He spoke slowly and succinctly, but the panic in his voice was unmistakable.
“Greetings, friends,” he said. “I am Gavolt, Royal Vizier of the Hwangawine District of planet Ypiupi, in the Trangoone system. Our previous Queen has been kidnapped and executed” (there was a hint of a smile here, but one had to be quick to spot it) “and we are about to fall under attack by the Skreel. We recognize that you are probably very busy, and that our previous Queen has not set an example which would make others eager to help. However, I implore you, out of the goodness of your hearts, to come to our aid. This is our most desperate hour. Help us, please, whoever you are, you are our only hope.”
“Fascinating…” murmured Buckton and Zick together. They understood the language he spoke, having learned it in preparation for their visit to this system.
“Might I add,” Gavolt continued, “that our new monarch is every bit as sexy as the previous one, being in fact nearly identical, and some even argue that she has nicer feet; but she is far superior in that she is kind and sweet and gentle. I am sure if some brave soul were to help her, she would be very grateful.” There was a pause as he looked distractedly over his shoulder, as if listening to someone. “But you would be, right?” he said. “I just – look, I’m not implying anything. I never said – look, you want someone to help us, right? I know, but you have to leave. We’ve settled that. Can’t you just – look, this thing’s still on, can we talk about it later?”
He turned back to face them. “Please, hurry. Oshawah go with you, friends.” The transmission cut off.
Everyone, including Kaycee, was speechless for a moment.
Then, “Feet? I dunno, I’m not particularly into human feet, are you, Buck?” asked Zick.
Buckton shrugged. “Not really into humans at all, but if anything, I’m more of an elbows guy, myself,” he admitted.
There is something to be said about various species’ different erogenous zones and where they overlap or change completely and the occasionally hilarious, but more often just deeply disturbing, results when these different species take to the stars and mix. However, now is neither the time nor the place, for it would distract from the important thing going on, which only Kaycee right now seemed to be grasping.
“Look, you hormonal harebrained honchos, don’t you get it?” he exploded. “That’s not the point. This planet needs our help. Right now.”
Buckton frowned. “It’s a couple planets away from Balvador,” he said. “Your calculations must have been wrong.”
“They were not! But if they were, which they were not, then that would be irrelevant now! One planet, another planet, who cares, we have to help them!”
“I’ve heard about their Queen, the one who got kidnapped,” said Buckton. “From what everyone says, she was one nasty you-know-what. I can’t imagine the rest of the district, or planet for that matter since the district is like half of it, can be much better if she was allowed to stay in power.”
“But maybe her sister’s the new one they’re talking about,” said Zick. “She was nice, wasn’t she? Quiet type, too.”
“I suppose,” said Buckton. “But what if they’re lying about a new Queen, just so someone will help them? You remember that bit at the end?”
“Look,” said Kaycee, “I don’t see why it’s always about women, with any species. Buckton, you said you were a big-hearted chap. Zick, you hang out with him. And you tried to save strakking Gragalla, for crying out loud. I mean, you wanna talk about reputations, there’s a planet that’s hated from here to Q-60. If you’re going to be this selective about whom you help, simply because you don’t like an individual or even worse, simply because it isn’t on your schedule, which I calculated perfectly by the way, then whatever you’re in this for is not what Alicia is, and neither of you are friends of hers or mine.”
The pain returned to Buckton’s eyes. He stared at the floor again. Zick gently laid an arm around his shoulder.
“You’re right,” he said at last, softly, not looking up. “You’re absolutely right.” He forced a laugh. “That’s pretty deep for a cynical robot,” he said.
“Hey, I wasn’t always a cynical robot,” said Kaycee. He looked sympathetic, insofar as it is possible for a robot to look sympathetic. Both he and Buckton were clearly carrying some sort of burden that they didn’t want to share, but they shared the knowledge that they had burdens they didn’t want to share, and for now, that was enough.
Buckton didn’t feel comfortable sharing with any hunk of metal besides his precious ship and decided to regain his composure. He cleared his throat. “All right,” he said with newfound determination, “let’s go.”
Zick frowned. “I can’t get back ahold of them,” he said nervously. “Kaycee –”
“It would be difficult even for me, since they’re actively being jammed. It would take time we don’t have.”
“One of us will have to actually go see them then. It could be a trap…”
“Sounding better every minute,” said Buckton as the gleam returned to his eye. “Come on. Into the unknown.”
Next: Chapter Six