He thought about replying, but the mean face he was getting at the moment gave him second thoughts. Buddy, when I grow up, I want to be as terrifying and in-charge as her.
Redbeard coughed. “Cap’n, permission to speak?”
Bambi—err, Captain Cass—inclined her head fractionally.
“I don’t trust tha Effin’ Feds. Do you really think they’ll let us be leavin’, easy as tha’?”
“Hawke may be insufferable, but he is an honorable man. He won’t bother us again, not until the window he’s given me is over.”
“If you say so, Cap’n.”
“I do.”
Spiner asked, “Do you intend to turn yourself in, Captain?”
Redbeard didn’t give her a chance to respond. “Surely na’. We run, plain an’ simple.”
The usually quiet Kitt spoke, “If they found us this time, they’ll find us again.”
“Aye,” Redbeard added. “Tha’ don’ add up, Cap’n. We had technical assistance come out, change our transponder an’ everything! We shoulda looked like a different ship ta ‘em. How’d they know it was us right off?”
The captain’s hard gaze darkened. “I have a theory. And the implications aren’t good, that’s for sure. But in any event, there’s not much we can do about it without credits, and right now we’re running on empty.”
“So, what do we do, Cap’n?”
“We proceed as planned, and hope we have a prize donkey on our hands. If we don’t get a payout from this cargo, there won’t be much point in trying to shake our tail.” Her gaze swept the donkeys in the holding pen, ignoring Harry. “We push onward to Irrakis. Hopefully we’ll have our purse money before the end of the week Hawke’s allotted me, and then we can get rid of this ship altogether and get back to the Girlboss. Plus put some serious money toward making ourselves disappear off the Feds’ radar. For good.”
The crew members nodded.
“Any other questions?”
Harry lifted his head, working up the courage to ask. Say yes, please say yes. “Can I be fitted with a gun?” he blurted.
“No.” The captain didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even bother glancing at him.
“But, but, what if I find a spy and no one is with me to shoot them?” Harry whined.
Redbeard snorted. “Silly arse. How ye gonna shoot a gun, then?”
“There’s no spy,” Captain Cass said.
“Captain?” asked Spiner. “How can you be sure?”
Harry added, “Yeah. There could be changelings in the hold, or, or…”
“A wha’?”
Captain Cass held up her hands. “Enough. Look … it’s not a spy. We have a tail.”
“A tail?” repeated Redbeard.
Harry turned his head and looked at his host’s tail. Then he glanced over at Kitt. As far as he could tell, they had at least two tails just in the pirate ranks. Then there were all the donkeys and cows. And, did tail feathers count, too?
A rooster crowed from the other side of the hold.
“Yes, a tail. Someone has been following us. It’s the only possible remaining solution for how the Feds keep finding us.”
“But, wouldn’t we have detected them?” Kitt asked.
“Did we detect our own technical support ship?”
“Oh,” Kitt replied.
“What?” Harry asked, not getting it.
Spiner glanced down at Harry. “She means that there is another ship with cloaking abilities that’s following us and reporting our location to the Feds.”
“Arrr,” nodded Redbeard. “Well, nothing doin’ then. When we get tha chance, we blast ‘em.”
Cass nodded. “Yes. That’s exactly right. And since Hawke has just given me seven days to turn myself in, and our tail is clearly working for the Feds, that means they should be relatively harmless till the end of the week. Giving us those seven days to refill our coffers and ideally lull our tail into letting their guard down … so we can blast them. Any more questions?” the captain asked.
The crew exchanged glances.
“Good. Let’s get on with it.”
The captain and the rest of the pirates left the hold.
Harry decided to wait a few moments before getting up to follow them. His feet were still aching, and his stomach wasn’t feeling much better. Maybe it was time to eat a snack and take a shower.
If he was going to be running in a race soon, he’d need to be ready.
It took them several more hours, and several more jumps, to reach their intended destination. But it seemed the Federation officer, Hawke, was true to his word. His cubed ships had backed off, and the SS Bray had jumped to hyperspace with no obvious signs of pursuit.
At least, not from the Feds. Harry kept a close eye on the rear ends of the tail-less crew—much to their consternation. Luckily, the crew remained that way, as no one grew a new tail during the remainder of the journey.
Still unsure of what this “tail” was exactly that Captain Cass had mentioned, Harry remained wary of all the tails in the hold. A good pirate intern, he remained alert, ready to report any suspicious behavior from any of the animals.
Harry resumed his cleaning duties for most of the trip to Irrakis, but as they drew nearer to the planet, he was granted a reprieve, giving him time to clean himself up. His host would need to look his best ahead of the prize donkey contest.
Irrakis! Finally, they were entering the Irrakis system. As clean as he could ever remember, Harry strutted up to the bridge with head held high, his gray and white coat shined and fluffed.
Or rather, he tried to strut. Buddy’s front feet still hurt, and Harry felt his poor host wince every time he put weight on them.
Sorry, Buddy. But it’s show time! Just a little longer and you can have a real rest!
He ended up tip-toeing onto the bridge, clamping his teeth against the little shooting pains running up his front legs. With a sigh of relief, he lowered himself down next to Spiner’s station in his usual spot.
Hope they don’t mind us laying down, Buddy.
A planet drew nearer on the viewscreen as Harry watched, a gleaming ochre globe that nearly glowed against the backdrop of black space.
“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful!”
Redbeard grunted. “Looks like a big ol’ ball of sand ta me.” He shifted in his chair, wincing. “I don’t like sand. Gets all over, if ya follow. In yer pants, even up into yer—”
“Red,” Captain Cass said. “Please.”
He shrugged. “It’s true.”
The captain looked up at a blank spot on the ceiling and drew in a deep breath.
“I don’t have pants,” Harry stated helpfully.
Redbeard scowled. “Eh well. Lucky you.”
Captain Cass held up a hand to silence their banter as a chime sounded from the comms. “About time. We’ve been waiting twenty minutes. Node, put it on.”
Nice to see everyone getting along, Harry noted as the captain addressed his computer friend by his preferred name.
A chipper female voice said, in only mildly accented Galactic Standard, “You’ve reached the Irrakis Ministry of Ceremonial Affairs. Thank you for holding. I’m Nadia. What can I do for you?”
Captain Cass leaned forward in her chair. “Hello, Nadia. This is Captain Cass of the SS Bray. We’re here for the Running of the Donkey contest.”
“Wonderful. This is a very important cultural event for our people. Would you like to buy spectator tickets, then?”
“Oh. Um, no. We’re hoping to enter our donkeys into the contest. I hope it’s not too late to register?”
“Ah,” Nadia paused. “We’re always open to having more contestants. How many are you planning to enter?”
“Well, we have dozens in our hold. So … as many as we can?”
Harry felt a momentary pang of jealousy. If his whole herd of donkeys were entering the contest, that significantly lowered the odds of him being the prize donkey.
I really want us to win, Buddy, he thought. If we
win the prize, surely we’ll get to be real space pirates!
“That’s great,” Nadia’s cheerful voice pitched up a half-tone higher. “Each contest participant is allowed to register up to five donkeys for the race. I can send you an information packet, which includes all the necessary application forms.”
“Paperwork?” Redbeard grumbled. “Blast it all…”
“OH,” Nadia said, loudly enough to cause Kitt to cover her ears. “I almost forgot. Since you are participating in the contest, I can fast-track your approval to dock at Irrakeen. That’s our planet’s capital.”
Captain Cass raised her eyebrows. “Thank you.”
Nadia’s voice pitched up yet again, loud enough now to cause Redbeard to clutch the arms of his chair. “Of course. Enjoy your stay on Irrakis, and best of luck with the contest! Who knows—maybe you have a prize donkey on your hands!”
The transmission cut off and Spiner promptly announced, “I’ve received the information packet, Captain, as well as docking clearance and instructions for landing.”
“Tha’ was fast,” Redbeard said, as he rubbed and tugged at his ears.
Captain Cass swiveled in her chair to face Spiner’s station. “Put us down, Spiner.” She paused and glanced down at Harry, frowning. “You don’t look so good. Maybe you should sit out the contest?”
Harry scrambled to his feet, clamping down on Buddy to ignore the pain in his hooves. “Oh, no, no, no, no—that’s okay! I’ll be okay.”
The captain regarded him skeptically. “Hmm. It’s up to you. We’ve got plenty of other donkeys to enter in the contest, if you’d rather rest up.”
Redbeard stood up and stretched his arms out wide. “Arrr, me thinks a kip sounds mighty good. But, surely we be gettin’ somethin’ good fer a talkin’ arse, yeah?”
Harry’s ears lifted. He had no idea what a kip was, but it felt good to have Redbeard’s support for once. He tried on his best grin. “Yeah, I’m your prize donkey, right here!”
The captain shrugged. “We’ll see. Doesn’t matter, really, as long as one of our donkeys wins.”
Harry was determined to show them that he was capable. No way was he going to sit this one out, no matter how poorly his host was feeling.
We’re going to win this, right Buddy?
19
Harry was allowed to disembark along with the rest of the pirate crew. It felt good to be included again after being cooped up with his herd during the encounter with the Feds. He scampered around Redbeard’s hulking frame to get a look at this new place.
They stood on an open platform, just outside the SS Bray, at an open-aired docking station, just at the edge of the capital city of Irrakeen. The other edge of the docking station featured a sandy, dune-filled landscape that seemed to stretch on forever. Dotted between the landing platforms of the station were round, bubble-like buildings, not unlike the ones at Dillbilly’s gas station, only there were a lot more of them.
The city of Irrakeen itself was impressive. Harry had never seen anything like it. Hundreds of pale, rectangular buildings stretched out in the distance, big and small, almost all of them with tall spires stretching up into the cloudless, cobalt sky.
It was almost unbearably hot, even for a donkey. Harry’s eyes were drawn to pools of sweat dripping off the faces of the human members of the pirate crew. Already thirsty, he was tempted to run over and lick it off their faces. Harry hoped the race would be at a cooler time of day.
Kitt gestured at Spiner with a rare expletive, then pointed over at the side of the ship. Following their gazes, Harry saw the fueling tube from Dillbilly’s was still attached. They quickly excused themselves to get a closer look.
Redbeard was too preoccupied with swearing and swiping at his face with an open hand, trying to keep the sweat out of his eyes. “Ewww, blimey, arse! Keep away from me hands!”
Harry stepped back from Redbeard’s hand. Humans are salty, he observed to Buddy as he licked his lips. We’re even thirstier now, aren’t we?
A few paces forward from the rest of the group, Captain Cass conversed with a strangely garbed man who didn’t appear to be the least bit affected by the sweltering heat. The only parts of his body not covered by white sheets were his face, hands, and slippered feet.
They both paused at Redbeard’s outburst and glanced over.
“Sorry,” Harry mumbled.
The man in white sheets gave Harry a quizzical look, then returned his attention to the captain.
Harry couldn’t hear what they were saying, so he decided to drift closer….
“Have you completed the registration forms?” the man asked the captain.
“I have,” Captain Cass replied. She reached out with some sort of square device, and the man did the same.
Then the man pulled his device back, and tapped at its surface, as if it were a console on the ship’s bridge. “Everything looks in order.” He extended his device back to the captain. “Here’s a schedule, as well as the patterns you’ll need for the showmanship portion of the event.”
Captain Cass looked down at her device, biting her lip. “The showmanship portion?”
The man nodded. “Yes, yes. Very important, you understand.”
The captain stared at the man in a way that suggested that she didn’t, in fact, understand.
“We don’t let just any donkey participate in the actual run,” he explained. “All finalists must conform to standard, and being appropriately garbed is a necessary first step.”
“Very well,” the captain replied, after glancing down at her device again.
Harry was pretty excited. We’re going to get to wear clothes, Buddy! How cool is that?
“You can find accommodations in a nearby hostel,” the man said. “Or, if you prefer, you may come and go from your ship as you please during your authorized stay.”
“We’ll stay on our ship, thank you.”
The man smiled and bent at the waist with a flourish of his hands. “Very good. Enjoy your stay and best of luck with the contest tomorrow.”
The captain and Harry watched the man turn and walk away.
Redbeard stepped forward to join them. “Arrr we all good, Cap’n?”
Captain Cass stared back down at her device. “Tomorrow,” she said quietly. “The event is tomorrow. And we’re supposed to dress all the donkeys in special garments.”
“Garments?” Redbeard repeated, scratching his beard. “Well, tha’ won’t be a problem, will it? Can jus’ use the replicators.”
“The replicators only work if you provide a pattern and precise measurements for the donkeys,” Node explained.
“Precise measurements?” Captain Cass repeated.
Node’s tone shifted from one of boredom to something edgier. “Yes. Would you like me to define those words for you?”
“Don’t test my patience,” the captain snapped. “I know what those words mean.”
“What does he mean, Captain?” Spiner asked.
“Hah. Hah hah—”
“Node.”
The laughter stopped.
Node said, “Will that be all? Or can I pretend to go do something else now?”
The captain ignored the comment. “Listen up, crew. You heard the computer. We need to get precise measurements from the donkeys. I’ve registered all of us as contest participants to up our odds of winning, so that’s five donkeys for each of us, twenty donkeys in all. Pick the best looking ones to measure. Kitt, Spiner, Redbeard, get to it.”
Redbeard protested. “Arrr, c’mon, Cap’n … I don’ wanna be touchin’ those shite machines!”
“Can I help?” Harry asked, eager to have something to do.
“I don’t think so,” Captain Cass replied. “Unless you can grow a set of hands.”
Harry lowered his head. “I don’t think I can do that. Oh well...”
“Captain,” said Kitt. “Taking measurements is only useful if we know what we’re supposed to be measuring.”
“She raises a valid p
oint, Captain,” Spiner offered.
“See?” asked Redbeard. “We don’t even know wha’ we’re s’posed to be doin’, then.”
Node’s pixelated face popped onto the viewscreen. “Look, I’d love to watch you morons struggle with this. But if you don’t win this contest, I get the feeling I’m going to be stuck with you for a long time. So … how about I speed things along and help you find some instructional videos?”
The crew stood in front of the viewscreen on the bridge, which Node had made opaque and designated a rectangle of for playing back the instructional videos. They stood in a line, even Harry, heads tilted to the right as they studied what they were supposed to do.
Captain Cass straightened her head and rolled it around on her shoulders. “Ugh, Node, can’t you find any of these damn things that are horizontal?!”
“Negative,” Node replied. “It seems the morons who made these videos did not realize vertical videos were a bad idea.”
“Blimey,” Redbeard muttered. He, too, straightened to rub at his neck. “I don’ understand anything they’re talkin’ about, especially with not bein’ able to see it properly!”
The captain released a heavy sigh. “Well, we’re just going to have to do the best we can. Node, can you adjust the video and play it back horizontally? My neck is killing me.”
“I can adjust it, sure,” Node replied. “But it won’t help.”
The video shifted from vertical to horizontal, but then the images stretched so horrifically even Harry blinked, snapping out of the trance of watching so many videos to shake his head. “Well, now it just looks like a bunch of blurry colors,” he said.
Redbeard growled curses.
“Yeah, that makes it worse.” Captain Cass rubbed at her eyes. “Okay, fine, put it back the way it was, Node.”
The computer complied.
They went back to watching a man wrapped in white robes attempt to coerce a donkey draped in bright colors to trot toward a woman, who was the judge in this particular situation. But, because of the vertical nature of the video, they couldn’t see both the entire donkey and the entire man—much less the whole arena in which this contest was taking place—at the same time.
Of Donkeys, Gods, and Space Pirates Page 16