by Jake Bible
“He’s also a crack shot with a Plip pistol!” Bill yelled. “Even with hoof hands!”
“Scutter?” Rage called. “Only thing we can do is run and let the shock troops contain this mess! That cool with you or do you have a better plan?”
“Regrouping at the security office is our best bet!” Scutter called back. “Let’s move!”
“You heard the lady, Sandy,” Rage said and gave Lord Sahndle a hard shove. “Let’s move.”
Then Rage paused and looked up.
“Where’s Choosper? She’s not covering us anymore,” he yelled.
“She took off after that worm thing you threw, man!” Bill said. “Maybe Kalanips eat worms?”
“Kalanips don’t eat sentient worms!” Rasco shouted. “Don’t be ignorant, dude!”
“She’ll have to catch up!” Rage yelled. “Let’s go!”
Rage waited for the team to skirt the still dancing killer mimes. Once assembled, they turned and ran for the plaza’s exit.
Then they came to a skidding halt as Detective Labous and the Punches ran back into the plaza.
“You get lost, Labous?” Rage snapped.
“The whole boulevard is killing each other!” Detective Labous responded, out of breath and looking like he was gonna throw up or faint or faint and throw up. Some combo of those two options.
The Punches all started shouting at once, but despite the chaos, Rage got the gist.
“Sandy? What was the delivery system for the nanites?” Rage asked.
“I would like to take this chance to stress that I was not aware of nanites being used,” Lord Sahndle said.
“SANDY!”
“Water!” Lord Sahndle replied. “Bottled water!”
“Bottled water,” Rage said. “You paid an intergalactic scumbag to drug bottled water. Did you stop to think that maybe this intergalactic scumbag might get lazy and simply drug all of the bottled water in this region since that was the easy way to ensure delivery to the competition?”
“I have to admit that the possibility of that being a strategy never crossed my mind,” Lord Sahndle said.
“I am sure it didn’t,” Rage said. “Labous? How bad is it out there?”
“A lot worse than in this plaza,” Detective Labous replied.
“Well, shit…” Rage growled low. “Scutter? We’re in a tight spot here. Might have to clip some mimes.”
Rage hooked a thumb at the incoming killers.
“We’ve got only a few seconds before they start silently trying to rip us all apart,” Rage said.
“We could leave the Punches and the Ghej,” Rasco said. He didn’t flinch as he received several death glares. “Just thinking of my own survival here, dudes. Nothing personal.”
“Nothing personal?” Junior shouted. “Listen up, you plastic piece of shit…”
The rest of his words were drowned out by the whining of engines being slammed out of drive and into hover mode.
Everyone looked up into the sky as a party barge circled down and around and landed just in front of the mob of killer mimes.
“Get your asses in the party barge, bitches!” Grandmaster Scunge yelled. “Me and the Kalanip is here to save your worthless butts, yo!”
“You heard the talking worm!” Rage yelled. “Get in the fucking barge!”
They all got in the fucking barge.
Twenty-One
Rage had to admit, although he didn’t say it out loud, that the view from the party barge was rather nice. Watching the Scorchers below tear each other apart really added to the enjoyment.
“You can fly a party barge?” Rage asked Choosper, who was busy captaining the barge. “With the one arm?”
“Party barges fly themselves, yo,” Grandmaster Scunge said from a barstool at one of the four bars the party barge held. “Don’t you know nothin’ about Scorching Dude life, bitch?”
“Call me bitch again and I toss you overboard,” Rage said.
“Try it, bitch. I fuckin’ dare ya.”
“You asked for it,” Rage said.
He crossed the open barge, grabbed Grandmaster Scunge off the barstool, and hurled the shrunken Sphuncter over the side. Or attempted to. Grandmaster Scunge slammed into an energy shield, whooped loudly, then plopped down onto the barge’s deck.
“Yeah, bitch! How’d that work out for ya, yo? Huh?” Grandmaster Scunge shouted. “Uh, little help, yo. Get me back to that bar. I gots a gin and tonic comin’.”
One of the Punches picked up the Sphuncter and tossed him back onto his barstool. A bartender bot finished mixing the drink then set it in front of the alien worm.
“Yo! Gonna need a straw, bot bitch!” Grandmaster Scunge shouted. The bartender bot placed a straw in the drink. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, yo.”
“No one can leave the barge unless it lands,” Scutter said, sidling up next to Rage. “Otherwise you’d have people tossed overboard all the time during drunken brawls.”
“Or jumpers,” Grup said, sipping on something bright pink and very frothy. “You know. The suicides.”
“Rage! How are you getting us out of this mess, huh?” Junior shouted from only a couple feet away.
“I’m standing right here, Junior,” Rage said. “No need to yell.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ll yell if I want to—”
Rage’s fist shot out and hit Junior right between the eyes. The punk swayed then collapsed onto the deck, out cold.
“Anyone else have any douchebruh comments to make?” Rage asked the Punches. They all shook their heads and stayed seated in the comfy lounge couches and recliners that were provided for the party barge passengers. “Didn’t think so.”
“Comms are still out,” Rasco said, joining Rage and Scutter.
“And it’s getting worse down there,” Bill added. “It’s spreading up the boulevard.”
“Barge comms work?” Rage asked.
“No comms work,” Rasco said.
“That part of the plan, Sandy?” Rage yelled at Lord Sahndle.
The Ghej was pouting in a plush chair in the corner of the deck. He held several drinks in his tentacles, but wasn’t sipping any of them. He glanced up as his name was mentioned.
“What was that, Mr. Rage?” he asked.
“The lack of comms. Was that part of the plan?” Rage asked.
“Not my plan, no,” Lord Sahndle said.
“Put this on,” Scutter said and tossed a black T-shirt to Rage. “They have boxes of shirts in the hold.”
“Handy,” Rage said and put the T-shirt on. “It’ll do. So, Sandy, the comms?”
“It wasn’t Lord Sahndle’s plan, I’m sure, but part of Nargle Boof’s plans,” Scutter said. “He used Sahndle to get the nanites onto Mars since royal luggage can’t be searched. Then he set everything in motion thinking Sahndle would be killed along with everyone else in the A Cappella Mime Troupe Plaza. His tracks would be covered that way.”
“Except we were late getting Sandy to the plaza because of our little worm butt detour,” Rage said. “What do you think his end goal is?”
“End goal. Ha,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “Nice one, bitch.”
“Kill everyone, looks like, dude,” Rasco said, ignoring the alien worm. “It’ll be impossible to stop people from drinking bottled water. And no comms means no warnings or alerts.”
“Maybe we can get ahead of this shit,” Rage said. “Choosper! Push the engines to full and let’s try to warn the other regions!”
“It’s at full, Mr. Rage,” Choosper called back. “Party barges have speed governors on them in case some of the drunken Scorchers mutiny and try to take over. This is as fast as it goes.”
Rage moved to the side and peered over. The chaos was spreading in every direction faster than they were moving. Even if they cut laterally they’d still be behind the violence.
“Okay, so we can’t outrun it,” Rage said, returning to the team. “What else can we do?”
“We head to a link up, yo,” Gran
dmaster Scunge said.
“A link up?” Rage asked.
Scunge sipped his gin and tonic. He smacked his puckered butt lips and said, “Party barge link up. You get like six or seven together and you got yourself a link up, bitch.”
“You really need to stop calling me bitch,” Rage said.
“Or what?” Grandmaster Scunge said. “What’ll you do to me…bitch?”
“I’ll crush you with my bare hands,” Rage said. “You aren’t tunnel-sized anymore, Scunge.”
“That’s only because I choose to be this size,” Grandmaster Scunge replied. “All I gotta do is have this bot bitch give me some water and I’ll start swelling up big enough to sink this barge.” He finished his gin and tonic and licked his butt lips. “Bitch.”
“Leave him be, Max,” Scutter said. “He’ll be useful later.”
“How?” Rage asked.
“He can get huge,” Scutter said. “We might need a huge ally if things get worse.”
“They’re getting worse,” Bill said. “Take a look.”
Everyone moved toward Bill and the party barge began to tilt dangerously to one side.
“Split up!” Choosper shouted, frantically struggling to keep the barge from tipping. “It flies itself, but nothing is immune to stupid!”
“She sounds like me,” Rage said then pointed at the Punches. “You idiots can have that side.”
“But it’s a shit view, bruh.”
“Why you always ordering us around, bruh?”
“Bruh…”
“What he said, bruh.”
“We can land and drop you off,” Rage suggested. “Then you can have the best view.”
“We’re good here, bruh.”
“Hey, bruh, no need to get all snotty.”
“Yeah, bruh, keep your snot in your nose.”
“I have a tissue, bruh. You need a tissue?”
Rage started to raise his rifle, but stopped when Grandmaster Scunge laughed.
“Let me guess,” Rage said. “Weapons don’t work on party barges.”
“You go it, yo,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “Not after the Party Barge Rave of ‘23. Guts everywhere, yo. Guts everywhere…”
The alien worm spat a little of his fresh gin and tonic onto the deck.
“I’d pour one out, but no hands, yo,” he said.
“You really need to see this,” Bill insisted.
Rage joined the big guy at the rail and stared down at the landscape below. The on-fire-and-out-of-control-blaze landscape.
“Where are the fire crews? The fire suppressant systems? Fire bots? Something,” Rage said. “This planet is drier than Scutter’s cooch. There have to be measures in place to stop that down there from happening.”
“Asshole,” Scutter said.
“Am I wrong?” Rage replied.
“The fire crews are probably fighting along with everyone else. They are volunteer-based at Scorching Dude,” Rasco said. “Nargle Boof must have someone on the inside that turned off the suppressant systems. There are no fire bots on Mars. They proved too expensive and were always getting snagged for orgies because of their large hoses, many spigots, and multiple attachment capabilities.”
“You know a lot about Scorching Dude’s fire bots there, Rasco,” Rage said.
“Shut up, dude,” Rasco replied. “You learn a lot when you can jack into any planet’s tech.”
Rage pointed at him.
“What?” Rasco asked.
“Jacking in to tech,” Rage said. “Why aren’t you doing that right now?”
“No tech jacking on party barges, bitch,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “Or someone would hijack them, yo.”
“Jesus Christ! You can’t throw people off these things! You can’t shoot people on these things! And you can’t jack into tech on these things!” Rage exclaimed. “What the hell good are these goddamn party barges for?”
“Uh, partying,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “Duh.” He took a quick sip of his drink. “Bitch.”
The fires were getting worse down below and spreading faster than the violence. One good thing that Rage noticed was that the fires were at least thinning the numbers of the fighters. He almost said as much, but decided he didn’t need the hassle from those that gave a shit about the lives of the Scorchers. The only lives Rage gave a shit about, albeit begrudgingly, were on the party barge with him.
That truth and reality of that thought hit him like a ton of moon rock.
“Where’s your ship?” Rage asked Scutter.
“What?” Scutter replied, barely able to tear her eyes away from the carnage below.
“Your ship. You have a ship docked here somewhere, right?” Rage asked. “How’d you get here?”
“Earth Corp transport,” Scutter said. “Did you forget that I didn’t take this job willingly, Max? I was dead, you dumbshit. I never wanted to come to Mars in the first place.”
“Labous!” Rage shouted.
The detective glanced Rage’s way, but didn’t exactly look coherent. He was slumped in a recliner, a strange look on his face.
“You good, Labous?” Rage asked.
The detective swiveled his head and stared right at Rage. Or, more like right through Rage.
“He doesn’t look so hot,” Grup said and moved over to Rage’s side. “Kinda has a crazy look in his eyes.”
“Shit,” Rage said and stomped up to Detective Labous. “Labous? Did you drink any of that bottled water when you were down on the ground?”
“Huh?” Detective Labous asked. His eyes were swimming in his head and he couldn’t focus on anything.
“It’s not nanites,” Scutter said and shoved Rage to the side. “Detective?” She snapped her fingers in his face. “Hey! Labous!”
Detective Labous smiled up at Scutter then turned and threw up. There was a lot of blood in the vomit.
“Uh oh,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “He’s got it bad, yo.”
Rage closed his eyes for a second then opened them and turned to face the alien worm.
“What does he have bad?” Rage asked, even though he truly, madly, deeply didn’t want to hear the answer.
“Love bugs, yo,” Grandmaster Scunge said and sipped at his gin and tonic. “Missy T is infested with them. She thinks they give her sex appeal. Some worms, right?”
The Sphuncter finished off his gin and tonic and nodded at the bartender bot to fill him up.
“Y’all is probably infected and shit too, yo,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “Why you think I’m drinking gin and tonics? Because they taste good? Bitch, these drinks taste like licking the inside of a pine tree’s asshole. And I’m talking pines trees from Nember Four, yo. The ones that have actual asses. And if I’m saying something tastes like ass, then it tastes like ass, bitches.”
The bartender bot handed him a new drink.
“Thanks, bot bitch.”
Twenty-Two
It was a good thing that the vast majority of the intergalactic population did not share the same views regarding gin and tonics as Grandmaster Scunge. The party barge was well-equipped to furnish everyone with large tumblers of the cocktail. They drank three in a row. Just to be sure.
After being plied with his allotment of gin and tonic, Detective Labous came out of his love bug-induced stupor.
“Whoa,” he said. “That was weird. I’d like to never experience that again.”
“Oh, you will, bitch,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “You’re human, right, yo?”
“I am,” Detective Labous replied.
“Yeah, that shit’s in ya permanently unless you get a surgical purge. That goes for all you humans, yo,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “Me, I’ll be clear after about six more of these. Cheers, bitches.”
“I’m good,” Rage said. “Nothing can live in me.”
“Not much lives near you, either,” Scutter said. “Case in point.”
“Cute,” Rage said then focused on Detective Labous once more. “Labous. Competition is over. Our job getting Sa
ndy there is done. We’ll still protect him, but how about you tell us the closest docking port where we can get an Earth Corp ship off this rock?”
“I can’t do that, Rage,” Detective Labous said.
“Jesus Christ, asshole, now is not the time to play dutiful bureaucrat,” Rage snapped.
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Detective Labous said. “I’m just Greenville PD, Rage. I don’t know where to go any more than you do. I was supposed to bring you back to the same docking port we landed at. That’s the only one I know of.”
“Well, you’re fucking useless,” Rage said. “Rasco?”
“Earth Corp transport, dude,” Rasco replied.
“Bill?”
“Same, man.”
“Choosper?”
Choosper didn’t reply.
“Choosper…” Rage pushed. “You didn’t come on the Earth Corp transport with the rest of the team, did you?”
Choosper still didn’t reply.
“Choosper! I’ll go back to calling you horsey if you don’t tell me how you got to Mars!” Rage shouted.
“Why you gotta be yellin’ at the Kalanip like that, bitch?” Grandmaster Scunge asked. “Maybe she’s got a shitty ride and don’t want you loser ass bitches to see it.”
“It’s a great ride,” Choosper said. “Custom built XeneX 323 Deuce. Dual-quad quantum drives with a plasma booster in each valve. Thirty-six sharp guns and a rail of rocket launchers. She’s one of the best ships that credits can buy.”
“Damn, bruh.”
“That’s some blinged out ship and shit, bruh.”
“Does it have rims? Ship like that has to have rims, bruh.”
“Explains why she’s working this job,” Rasco said. “Those are not cheap mods, dude.”
“That’s great,” Rage said. “XeneX ships are large enough for all of us to fit easily. Take us there.”
“I’d rather not,” Choosper said.
“Uh, I’d rather you fucking did,” Rage responded.
“Um…no,” Choosper said.
“Choosper. You really are pissing me the fuck off right now,” Rage said. “Don’t make an enemy out of me.”
“Max, stop,” Scutter said. “You’re upsetting the member of the team that is flying the barge.”