“Oh, arrr, who doya ‘ave here?” the man who was bigger even than Redbeard asked in a grating voice that sounded like grinding gears and rocket fuel. The accent was even thicker than Redbeard’s, who for his part was too busy scowling at Harry to answer. Whereas Redbeard was a thick combination of muscle and fat, this human was clearly all muscle. And, he only appeared to have one eye. A black eyepatch covered the space where the other should have been.
Harry craned his head up, trying to examine the patch. “Sorry, but I couldn’t understand a word of that and, uh, is it okay if I ask why you only have one eye?”
The massive man’s mouth broke into an even bigger grin. He cackled and slapped Redbeard on the back, who again stumbled. “I’m just messing with you! Gotta keep up with the pirate mystique and all.” He reached up and lifted the eyepatch for a short moment, revealing a second, fully normal-appearing eyeball before settling it back into place.
“Oh, hee-haw! You’re funny.”
“You’re calling me funny, fellow? You’re a talking donkey.”
Harry puffed out his chest, standing as tall as he could muster without actually having to stand on his front feet. “Actually, I’m Harry from Cern, avatar of the Overlords, chosen of the Gods, and pirate intern in Captain Cass’s crew!”
The massive man lifted one finely sculpted eyebrow above his eyepatch, making him look very pirate-ish, indeed. “Oh, those are some impressive titles. And, did you say pirate intern?” He glanced toward Redbeard with his visible eye. “Takin’ on interns now, are you?”
Redbeard shrugged, finally dragging his glare away from Harry. But then, to Harry’s surprise, Redbeard reached out and gave him a scratch between the ears. “So we are. Truth be told, this one’s proved ‘imself a decent pirate, believe it or not.”
Harry felt he might explode from glee.
The massive man grinned again. He had the straightest, whitest teeth Harry had ever seen. “Well then, pleased to meet you, Harry. Name’s Tone E Robbins—some call me The Big T—and I’m in charge of all this.” He swept his arm out to encompass the whole bustle of activity of Haven, and the rainbow bird on his shoulder ruffled its feathers at his movement. “Welcome to Haven.”
The sun, ocean, and greenery flickered again, then disappeared entirely, leaving rust-colored metallic walls in their place.
“It’s amazing,” Harry replied. “But, um, where did everything go?”
Redbeard smirked and shook his head.
Tone E’s mouth set in a thin line. He exhaled a long breath through his nose. “Image processor’s been glitching. Yet one more thing that needs fixing.”
“Wait.” Harry looked around again, his ears tilting sideways. “I thought we were on a planet? Where are we?”
“Currently? An orbital station. Only, we’re not orbiting anything and we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s not a celestial body within three-hundred-thousand light-seconds, give or take. Makes us almost impossible to detect with scanners, unless you’re close enough and know exactly what to look for.”
Spiner nodded. “Indeed. I have yet to figure out how to navigate to Haven without the assistance of a plug-in.”
Tone E clapped the green-skinned android on the shoulder. “Everyone has their gifts, my friend. Don’t you forget that.”
“While my decision-making systems are limited by my node-tree depth, my memory systems are unaffected.”
“See? Something to have gratitude for.”
Wow, thought Harry, they’re so nice to each other here. And to think I used to worry that pirates were scary!
“Squawk!” A long red feather floated toward the ground.
Harry swiveled his head to follow the feather, then tilted it toward the receding sounds of more avian protests. The rainbow bird had left Tone E’s shoulder and was flying away from them, toward a corridor, Kitt in pursuit on all fours.
Tone E screamed after them at the top of his lungs, his muscles contracting along his neck and all the way down his arms to his fingers. “Arrrrrrgh, damn you Kitt! If you so much as scratch Mister Burton, I’ll—”
The bird and its pursuer disappeared around a bend, leaving a trail of confused, startled beings in their wake.
“Blimey,” Redbeard mumbled under his beard. Louder, he said, “Deep breaths, T. Deep breaths, remembers?”
Harry instinctively backpedaled away from the big pirates, bumping his cart into Spiner, who was too busy watching the fracas to notice.
A throbbing vein in Tone E’s neck pulsed so violently, Harry feared it would burst. The man paused then, closing his visible eye and pressing his fingers to his temples. Slowly, the vein began to settle. At last, he opened his eye and managed a smile. “Right, he said. “Why don’t I get you all settled in? You must be starving.”
Harry was relieved the giant pirate leader wasn’t going to explode. “Mmm, what do you have to eat?” he asked.
“Ah … we also require medical attention for Harry,” said Spiner.
Harry rocked back in his wheeled contraption. After all the excitement over arriving at Haven, meeting Tone E, and the prospect of food, he’d almost totally forgotten about his hurting hooves. “Aww, can’t we eat first?” He never liked to turn down food.
Tone E placed a hand under his own chin and cracked his neck. “Yeah, all right. I’ll take you down to the mess. We can get something to go on the way down to Doc.”
3
Harry pulled his snout back from an emptied bucket of tasty slop. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. What were you saying?”
Haven’s doctor, another massive creature—though not entirely human, Harry thought, given his purple-tinted skin—straightened indignantly on his wheeled stool. “Are you not listening to me, donkey!?”
His voice boomed from his barrel chest and seemed all the louder for the small space of the examination room. Harry laid his ears back. “Uh, no, I’m listening. Sorry. I just … I was just, uh…” He’d just been eating too loudly, that must’ve been it. Whatever the mess cooks had whipped up in that bucket had been delicious, and he’d been hungrier than he’d thought. But judging from the doctor’s demeanor, that excuse didn’t seem good enough. “I was, uh…”
“Perhaps your intelligence is simply less than I had given you credit for,” the doctor said, his voice at a much lower volume, but still deep and sonorous.
Harry blinked, unsure of whether to be insulted or relieved that the doctor was providing him with an out for not listening the first time. “Um…”
“Well then, I shall speak slowly and in simple terms that you can understand.”
Harry’s ears crept back up as he peered at the doctor, who was proving to be a curious creature, indeed. His clothes barely fit over his bulging muscles, the white lab coat sleeves stretched to the max. He certainly didn’t look like any other doctor Harry had seen—though come to think of it, the medical officer on Deep Space Nine and the eccentric doctor on Irrakeen were the only doctors he’d had occasion to witness. This doctor wasn’t anything like the character on the TV show or the doctor on Irrakeen.
“Donkey, listen carefully.” The purple-skinned humanoid swiveled on his stool to face Harry, then walked it over until he loomed directly over him. At this close range, Harry could finally read the blue name tag pinned to the doctor’s lab coat. In neatly stenciled Galactic Common, it read: Dr. Wilcox Bonecrusher.
Good grief, what kind of a name is “Bonecrusher” for a doctor!? Harry suddenly didn’t feel quite as secure about seeing a doctor as he had just a moment ago.
“You are very sick,” Dr. Bonecrusher stated matter-of-factly. “But there is no need to worry. You are at Haven now, and I am Haven’s doctor.”
Harry resisted the urge to laugh. “Uh, yes, I think I know—”
“Be quiet and listen!”
Harry rolled back on his own wheels, but there was no room for maneuvering. He was cornered. “Geez, okay! You don’t have to yell.”
“I am the best
doctor within hundreds of light-years.”
Harry remembered what Tone E Robbins had said about this orbital station being in the middle of nowhere and wasn’t sure Dr. Bonecrusher’s statement was as impressive as intended.
“If there is a cure to be found, I will find it. And then I will apply it. And you will be cured.”
“Er … yes,” Harry said. His confidence in this particular doctor was swiftly dwindling. “I gather that’s how cures work.”
“Silence!” Dr. Bonecrusher barked. “I must concentrate. Tell me about what ails you, and I shall search the database for a cure.” He swiveled away from Harry then and waddled his stool back over to his desk in the corner, where a tablet sat ready and waiting. He snatched the device with a beefy hand and posed a thick finger over the screen, then looked expectantly to Harry.
Harry shook himself. He really just wanted this encounter to be over with already. But if this Bonecrusher guy could make his feet stop hurting, maybe all of this awkward tension was worth it. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then began describing to Dr. Bonecrusher exactly what had happened with his feet.
As he recounted the development of his tender-footedness, the doc busily pecked away at the tablet with one finger.
Harry made sure to mention what the Irrakeen doctor had called his sickness as well: laminitis.
Dr. Bonecrusher dutifully typed that in as well. Then, he gave a jolt on his stool and squinted at the screen. He held the tablet up close to his face, as if that might help him comprehend whatever had been displayed.
Harry cautiously rolled forward a step. “What?” he asked. “What is it?”
Dr. Bonecrusher slammed the tablet back to his desk and Harry near jumped clean off his contraption. “Laminitis!” the huge humanoid boomed.
“Yes, that’s right.” Poor Buddy’s heart was racing now, and Harry had to clamp down on his host’s sudden urge to flee, nevermind there wasn’t really anywhere to flee to. “What about it? Is it bad?”
“Bad?” Dr. Bonecrusher repeated. “It is worse than bad! It is an ailment that only affects ungulates!”
Harry didn’t know what to say. “Ungoo—ungoolah-whatsits? What does that mean?”
The purple-skinned doctor closed his eyes and drew in a deep, loud breath through his nose. Then he exhaled through his mouth. “Oh yes. My apologies. I forgot for a moment that you have limited intelligence.”
Harry wanted to stomp his front hoof in irritation, but stopped himself just before doing so. That would have hurt. “I’m not—”
“Donkey, the term ‘ungulate’ refers to hoofed animals. Laminitis is an ailment that only affects hoofed animals.”
Harry looked down at his own feet, which ended in hooves. Obviously. “Yes, that makes sense,” he said. “But why is that so bad?”
“Because, donkey, I am not equipped to cure ailments that only affect ungulates.” Dr. Bonecrusher lifted his hands to gesture around at the small examination room. “Haven is a refuge for pirates. Look around you, do you see any other hoofed animals here?”
Harry straightened on his wheeled contraption, his best pirate mean face contorting his equine features. “Hooves or no, I am a pirate!” he growled. “A pirate intern to Captain Cass, matter-of-fact!”
This seemed to surprise the doctor. Apparently Tone E had not made proper introductions when he’d dropped Harry off here, and Harry had been so bent on slurping up his bucket of food that he hadn’t even noticed.
Dr. Bonecrusher settled on his stool, making it creak. His freakishly bright blue eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”
“Damn skippy,” Harry said, forcing himself to meet the huge man’s stare. The mention of his captain made him suddenly realize he didn’t know where they’d taken her, or even if she was going to be okay. He gulped. “Speaking of Captain Cass, is she going to be alright?”
The doctor harrumphed. “Given that she doesn’t have hooves, as a proper pirate should not, she’s going to be good as new.”
“Yay, that’s great!” Harry hopped up on his front hooves, then yelped and quickly sank back down onto the leather seat of his contraption. “Ouch!”
“Real pirates don’t say ‘yay’,” the doctor grumbled.
“They don’t?”
“No. Haven’t you read the Pirate Code?”
Harry frowned. If the captain’s going to be okay, I’d better ask her about it next time I see her!
Dr. Bonecrusher narrowed his eyes. “If you haven’t read the Code, given your narrow intelligence, you might want to have someone read it out loud for you.”
“Uh, oh. Well … I know all about the Pirate Code! Like, um, like you’re not supposed to shoot unarmed beings…”
The doctor nodded and leaned back on his stool. “Okay, fine. But Haven isn’t built for ungulates, donkey—it’s built for real pirates. You should return home.” He waved a hand as if to shoo Harry away, then frowned down at his tablet, which appeared to have a cracked screen. “Crap,” he muttered.
Harry stared at the doctor, annoyed. He didn’t want to ‘just go home’. Not after everything he’d been through! “Well, I’m not really a donkey, you know,” he said.
Dr. Bonecrusher looked up. “What?”
“I’m an Assrider, from a tribe of Assriders.”
The doctor’s lips curled into a vicious grin. “I imagine all the males of your species are, donkey.” He chuckled and resumed his inspection of his broken device. “I cannot believe I ruined another one—that’s the third one this month!”
“What I’m saying is,” Harry continued, raising his voice to be heard over the doctor’s lamentations, “I’m not the donkey. I’m a symbiont, just like Dax from Deep Space Nine!”
Dr. Bonecrusher picked up his tablet and then dropped it off the side of his desk, where it landed with a thunk in a round bin. He swiveled on his stool. “Sorry, I was not paying attention. I am unfamiliar with this Deep Space place you mention, but did I hear you say you are a symbiont?”
Harry bobbed his head. “Yes, you know what that is?”
The doctor’s purple face reddened, his fists closing into tight balls. “Are you mocking me? Of course I know what a symbiont is!”
At that moment, the door to the exam room slid open with a whoosh.
Harry looked up and breathed a sigh of relief.
Tone E ducked under the frame of the door and regarded the scene with a sculpted eyebrow. “Everything all right in here?”
“Yes,” replied Dr. Bonecrusher, the words seeping out through a tightly-locked jaw. “I was just telling our symbiont guest here that there’s nothing I can do for his current host. And, I’m afraid if the donkey isn’t treated soon, it’s going to have to be put down.” He gazed at Harry with an impassive expression. “I recommend you find a new host, Assrider.”
“Put down?” Harry’s breath caught as his stomach dropped to the floor. “No, we can’t do that. We’ve got to help Buddy!”
Tone E straightened. “Redbeard told me what you did to save your crew. Apparently more than once! If there’s a way to help you,” his uncovered eye rested lightly on Dr. Bonecrusher, “we will.”
The doctor coughed. “We will? Uh, right. Well then … I suppose I have a shot I can give you for the pain. It will reduce inflammation and slow the rate of deterioration in your hooves. You will need to take regular scheduled injections and you don’t want to miss one.” He paused, then reached down, pulled open one of his desk drawers and rummaged around. “Ah, here we are.” In his bulky hands were a couple of vials and a pack of needles.
Harry scooched forward to peer at the contents. “So, I just drink that? What are the other things for?”
A malevolent expression crept across the doctor’s face, which he quickly extinguished with a glance up at Tone E. “Oh, no. Nothing so pleasant. You’ll need someone to inject you. Meaning, place a needle into the vial and extract a dose. Then, they’ll stab the needle into your host’s flank and push in the contents.”
&
nbsp; “Oh.” Sounds painful, but I won’t let it hurt you, Buddy, thought Harry. After all, he had the ability to manipulate Buddy’s nervous system. He could simply suppress the pain stimulus. “I’m sure my friends can help.”
Tone E walked over and clapped the doctor on the shoulder. “Thanks for looking after our intern, Doc.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” the doctor mumbled. “But … to actually cure the donkey, we’ll have to call in a specialist.”
“Oh?” Tone E seemed curious. “Did you have anyone specific in mind?”
“Perhaps. I recommend putting in a call to a Dr. Brenneke out on the Eureka Springs colony in the Outer Arm. I do not know if she will get here in time to save the donkey, mind you.” At this, Dr. Bonecrusher tossed Harry a meaningful look. “But that’s the best I can do.”
Tone E nodded gravely. “Of course.” He turned his stern expression to Harry, but his one visible eye was full of sympathy. “I’ll call her right away via the H-Tran and we’ll get her here as soon as possible, you have my word.”
Harry swallowed hard. “Thanks,” he croaked.
“Oh,” Dr. Bonecrusher put in, “and ... I may have broken another tablet.”
Tone E’s sympathetic expression turned into a frown as he pivoted on his heel to face the doctor. “Again? You don’t know your own strength, big fella.” The big pirate leader shook his head. “We’re going to have to get you something more durable. I’ll see if Bieber can hook you up.”
Their conversation continued for another moment, but Harry was already tuning it out. Not even the mention of the short, furry engineer—who had helped out the SS Bray during their previous adventure—could catch his attention or lift his spirits. His ears drooped and he let his body weight sag heavily onto the leather seat beneath his chest.
He didn’t want Buddy to be put down. He didn’t want a new host. He wanted Buddy to be all better!
4
In addition to the drugs, Dr. Bonecrusher had fitted Harry with a special pair of 3D-printed boots to take the pressure off his hooves before he’d left the station’s medical wing. They enabled him to get around without the use of the wheeled contraption Kitt had made for him. As cool as her invention was, it wasn’t so easy to maneuver through Haven’s narrow, busy corridors.
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