Air Pirates of Krakatoa

by Dave Robinson

  “I had to use the wife papers to get Doc away from the police, and she's barely spoken a word to me since.”

  Gus nodded. “I would advise you sort that out as soon as possible.” He settled Doc on his shoulder. “Anyway, let's get him back to his room.”

  Vic shrugged, and followed the gorilla as he led the way back to their rooms.

  #

  Once Ming had made sure Doc was resting comfortably, she turned to Vic and crooked a finger at the taller woman. “You, me, in private; now.”

  Back in their room, Ming pointed at the armchair and waited for Vic to sit. She herself made no move to sit, standing in the middle of the room with her back straight and arms crossed.

  No sooner had Vic sat down, than Ming was on the attack.

  “What's this wife business?” She stabbed a finger at Vic. “You told me you weren't married.”

  Ming paced the room, glaring at Vic. “You lied to me from the very beginning, and now I've lost my shop and crossed the world all because of lying shoeless hussy!”

  “I didn't lie,” Vic said softly.

  “What, so you snuck off and got married while I was sleeping? Is that supposed to make me feel better? I introduced you to my family!” Ming stopped pacing a moment, punctuating her words with jabs of her forefinger.

  “No, it's not that,” Vic stumbled over the words. “It's not a real marriage.”

  “So you are married, but not really? Is that it?” Ming almost spat the words at Vic, her rhythm matching her pace.

  “No.” Vic sighed. “It's just paperwork.” She looked up at Ming who was still pacing furiously, her fists clenched. “Doc and I, I mean the whole team, we travel all over the world…”

  “I noticed,” Ming said, looking around the hotel room as if to tell Vic not to belabor the obvious.

  “Well, it's a contingency plan.” Vic waved a hand as she tried to find the right words. “Doc and I each have papers saying we're married just in case something happens to one of us.” She gestured towards the room where Doc was staying.

  “Look at this morning, it was a lot easier to get Doc once I played the wife card.” Vic looked up to meet Ming's eyes. “Not to mention your medical license.”

  She tried to see if there was any sign of softening in Ming's expression, but the woman's mouth remained tight.

  “So you're saying that's all it is? A marriage of convenience?” Ming's eyes sparked. “You think that little of marriage? You think that little of yourself without a man’s name to hang your identity from?”

  “No, it's not that, it's more like a power of attorney.” Vic shivered in the heat, trying to figure out why she was sitting here feeling like a schoolgirl who had misbehaved. It was just a set of fake papers.

  “Then why don't you have that?” Ming shot back. “Less paperwork and you wouldn't have to lie.”

  “Because it wouldn't work as well; you need to show proof and officials can slow things down. The angry wife routine cuts through the red tape.”

  “Uh huh.” Ming stopped pacing, though she still didn't sit down. “And the reason why you didn't tell me about this beforehand is?” she asked dangerously.

  “It's just part of the routine, I never thought about it,” Vic responded. “I just prepared the way we always do.” She shrugged. “I really didn't think it was important enough to mention.”

  “So you were taking me for granted?” Ming raised an eyebrow. “Just some tagalong who you didn't have to explain anything to?”

  “No, I wasn't taking you for granted.” Vic squirmed in her seat. Why was all this so important to Ming? It was just a contingency plan in case she or Doc was seriously injured or incapacitated. Nothing to do with Ming at all. Why did she want Ming's approval?

  “Then why didn't you tell me about it?” The fire was back in Ming's voice.

  “I just didn't.” Vic said sheepishly. She shrugged her shoulders.

  “How can I be your keeper if you won't tell me what's going on?” Ming asked. “I'm supposed to keep you out of trouble, and I can't do that if you don't tell me things.” She snorted. “Hussy.”

  “I'm sorry, Ming.” The words came out of Vic's mouth without thinking. “I didn't mean to take you for granted.”

  “Now you're sorry.” Ming snorted. “Now you're sorry.” She turned her back on Vic and started rearranging her clothes, moving in short, jerky, motions.

  “Are you all right?” Vic asked, watching Ming work. Ming didn't answer.

  There was a heavy knock on the door. “Doc's awake and he wants to see you.” The voice belonged to Gus.

  “Go ahead, see to your husband,” Ming said without turning around, slamming another hanger onto the the rack with so much force Vic thought she would break something.

  “Both of you,” Gus's muffled voice came through the door.

  “All right, coming.” Vic said, finally feeling like she could get up from the chair. Ming stalked right past her, and opened the door without a word. Vic blinked as she came out into the sunlight where Gus was waiting, his eyes hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses. Ming slammed the door behind her.

  Gus stepped aside as Vic led the way back to Doc's room.

  #

  Doc shook his head, and then winced. It still hurt. He opened his eyes slowly to see that he was back in his hotel room. From the light, it felt like mid-afternoon. A soft breath told him he was not alone. Looking around he saw Gus perched on the edge of an armchair, dozing. Now that he knew where he was, Doc took a moment for a personal inventory. Fingers and toes all worked, which was a good start.

  Unfortunately, his trip didn't seem to have got him any closer to the answers he was after. He'd learned the Tigress liked Darjeeling tea, and that whoever had been after them in New York was also here, but that was the most he had been able to find out. Except for the tea, there was nothing really new here at all.

  What had the Tigress meant by the “real reason” for his search, anyway? People were getting killed, his cousin among them, and he was going to stop it. What more reason did he need?

  “Doc?” Gus rumbled softly. “You awake?”

  “I'm awake.” Doc resisted the urge to nod, his head was aching quite enough already. “How did I get here?”

  Gus scooted forward on his chair. “When we found out your room had been tossed and you weren't here, Vic and her friend went out looking for you.”

  Doc began to nod, then stopped himself and waved Gus to go on.

  “They came back a couple of hours later with you in the car. Vic used the wife passport to get you away from the officials and her friend didn't seem too happy about it.” Gus took a sip of tea from a fine porcelain cup. “She worked on you for a bit and then said you should wake up in an hour or so.”

  “Can you get them for me?” Doc asked slowly sitting up in the bed.

  “Of course.” Gus leaned forward and adjusted Doc's pillows before heading to the door.

  As the gorilla left, his wife came in, with Gilly close behind. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than I expected.” Doc reached up and felt the bandages around the side of his head. He had a little bit of soreness, but not as much as there should have been after that big an explosion.

  “Don't touch it, you'll only make it worse.” Ming's voice came from behind Gus and Vic as the trio entered the room.

  “You have a bruise on your right temple, but no sign of a fracture or a concussion,” Ming said briskly. “Now leave it alone, and I'll probably have the bandages off in a day or so. Touch it again and you're not leaving this bed for a week.”

  “Yes, Doctor,” he replied meekly.

  “Good, I'm glad somebody understands me.” Ming shot a glance at the back of Vic's head. “So, tell us what happened. I'm sure everyone wants to know.”

  Kehla held out a glass of water with a straw, and Doc took a long drink before beginning. “I had a visitor last night, who told me that Tigress wanted to meet me. I agreed and he took me to meet her.


  “We were almost immediately attacked by a giant robot. The driver had vanished with the car, so we had to leave on foot. I was able to knock the robot off its feet with a tram, but I was knocked unconscious when it exploded. I don't know much more now than I did then.”

  “So it was a waste of a trip,” Ming stated.

  “No, I wouldn't say that.” Doc took another drink. “Tigress asked about my motivations for coming here, and her questions gave me some insight into her own. She appears to be an idealist, which may give us some common ground in future.”

  “Harrumph,” Gus interrupted. “You may want to worry about things a little closer to home.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can't get through to order engine parts for Flying Cloud,” Gus explained. “I can't get a long distance call through, and I have had no responses to my telegrams. I've tried sending air mail, but I don't expect to hear back for at least a couple of weeks.”

  Doc frowned. “So, you're saying we're stuck here.”

  “Flying Cloud is.” Gus grumbled over his notes. “I just don't see any way we're going to get back in the air for at least two weeks, if not a month.”

  “And that's if the colonial government doesn't throw any monkey wrenches in our direction,” Vic added, drawing a look from Kehla. “Or were you able to get the plane out of impound?”

  Gus shook his head. “Not yet, but it's only been one morning. We just have to file the right paperwork.”

  “Or grease the right palms,” Ming said. “All the paperwork in the world won’t help you if the wrong person keeps losing it.”

  Doc sighed. “Do whatever you have to do, Gus. We can't do much without the plane, and I really don't want to have to buy another one because this one's stuck in impound.”

  “It won't come to that,” Gus said. “It's just a matter of time, bureaucrats are all the same, you just have to know how to work the system.”

  “Good luck with that,” Ming muttered.

  “Do you have a better idea?” Doc asked. “You know the Indies better than the rest of us.:

  “Of course I do.” Ming met his eyes fiercely. “None of the officials here care about anything more than taking bribes and hanging on to their pensions. Somebody's paying them to put these holdups in your way, so the best way to cut through the mess is to either out-bribe the competition or find a way to change their mind.”

  Gus sucked noisily on the arm of his sunglasses. “She's got a point. It might take some digging, but we can try that approach.”

  Ming rolled her eyes. “Do you seriously think anyone will talk to a gorilla? Sure, the Dutch will pay attention to your papers, but not the natives or Chinese. As for Mr. and Mrs. Vandal here, one look says they're just another couple of colonial oppressors. Send me or Gilly, the rest of you would be hopeless.”

  Doc nodded. “She's got a point,” he told the spluttering Gus, “even about Miss Frank and I. So, Doctor, would you and Gilly like to head out to try to find out what's happening with our plane?”

  Ming nodded slowly. “Sure, so long as you stay in this bed.” She looked at Gus and Kehla. “If he tries to get up, sit on him.”

  “I'm going with you.” Vic jumped into the conversation. “I'm a terrible nurse.”

  “Fine, but you're staying in the car,” Ming snapped.

  “All right,” Vic nodded, sounding surprisingly subdued. “Just let me get my purse.”

  Ming nodded, before leading the other two out of the room.

  The moment they were gone, Doc sat up in bed. “Right Gus, what else do we know?”

  “Not as much as I'd like.” The gorilla shrugged. “The piracy is affecting the coffee market and shipping insurance, but there haven't been a lot of deaths. It's definitely picked up since your cousin's death, though I don't think that information has made it too far from the looks of things.

  “You do have an invitation to visit Reginald Van Houten at his estate,” Gus said, pointing towards a card on a silver tray. “I think he wants to offer condolences for Cornelius…”

  “And probably make an offer for the business,” Doc added.

  He looked around the room. “So, what have you been able to find out about our Doctor friend? Now that we're in her home town, she seems a little too good to be true.”

  “All the evidence says she's what she claims.” Gus pulled out a notebook and flipped through it. “Brought up in Chinese medicine, took a medical degree and then emigrated to the US where she ran an apothecary shop.”

  Doc waved him on. “Don't worry about what happened after she moved to the US, focus on her life here in Java.”

  “Hmph.” Gus glared at him, then shook his head and continued. “Couldn't find out much about her life here; her being the first Chinese woman doctor in the Dutch East Indies was the only thing that gave me as much information as I have. The only other thing of note is that she was engaged before she left, but she called it off and left the country.” He pulled one of the whiskers beside his muzzle thoughtfully.

  “Her former fiancé, a man named Feng, is active in the independence movement, but we haven't been able to find out any more than that.” Gus flipped the notebook shut, and sat back in the chair, which creaked alarmingly.

  “We'll have to find out more about him,” Doc mused. “Funny there was no record of him in New York.”

  Gus raised an eyebrow. “Well it's not like we had a lot of time to investigate before Vic dropped her in our laps. You're lucky I could tell you as much as I have.”

  Doc nodded. “Then we'll just have to see what develops. Better keep an eye out, just in case.”

  “So, what's next?” Gus got and stumped over to where a tea service sat on an end table. He poured himself a cup, added cream and sugar and then returned to his chair. “We could just stay here and wait for news from New York.”

  Doc shook his head, and promptly regretted it as his headache sent a spike of pain between his eyeballs. “Bad idea. I don't want to sit here and do nothing while whoever sent that robot comes up with another plan.”

  He glanced over at the invitation card lying on the silver tray. “I think we'll take Mr. Van Houten up on his most generous offer of hospitality. Besides, it will get me out of this bed.”

  “Ming won't like that.”

  “She doesn't like a lot of things.” Doc smiled, slowly this time. “It's a two day trip to his plantation, and I can do the whole thing in the back of a car. Ming can take care of me, Vic and Gilly can drive.”

  Gus shrugged. “So you're going to put Kehla and I in the middle?”

  Doc nodded. “Do you have time for a game of chess?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Plantation by Night

  “Thank you for joining me,” Reginald Van Houten said, gesturing toward the table with his cigar. He was tall and portly, dressed in a white linen suit that concealed some of his weight but not his bulk. “I hope you don't mind your people eating separately, but I thought it might be better if we talked things out in private, just the two of us.” The way he said people made the word sound almost like menials to Doc's ear.

  As they approached the table, a woman joined them. She was small and slim, a few years younger than Van Houten. “I'd like you to meet my wife, Beatrice,” Van Houten said. “She'll be joining us as well.”

  Mrs. Van Houten smiled and nodded, but didn't say anything, although she did extend a hand to Vic, who took it. “I'm pleased to meet you, Beatrice.”

  Servants led the women to the table, leaving Doc and Van Houten behind. “Terrible pity about your cousin, Dr. Vandal, just terrible,” Van Houten said, puffing on his cigar. “He really helped build the consortium. It's no secret that he'd been slowing down the last few years, but you can't underestimate the work he did.”

  “Thank you for the condolences,” Doc replied. “But the truth is that I hardly knew the man. I never met him growing up, so he might as well have been a stranger.” Not that he would have had the opportunity, seeing as Doc ha
d grown up on the Moon rather than Manhattan. “It's more that he died in my arms asking for help than family loyalty that brings me here.

  “I have to ask, how are you handling the piracy problems?”

  Van Houten held up a bottle. “Brandy?”

  Without waiting for an answer he poured a couple of snifters and handed one to Doc. “For myself, it hasn't been as much of an issue. I've lost couple of ships, but not enough to be really damaging financially.”

  He took a deep draught of brandy. “I have more reserves than the others, so I'm better able to weather the storm.” He lowered his voice. “In fact, some members have even had to come to me to borrow money. It's a terrible shame.”

  “I understand, it's all about responsibility.”

  Van Houten clapped Doc on the shoulder. “Exactly. Those of us who are born to lead have a responsibility to care for our inferiors. It's not like they can do it themselves.” He gestured towards the servants who were pouring tea or coffee for the women. “Can you really imagine any of them running a country, or even a business? I'm amazed they let women drive a car.” He grinned at Doc.

  Doc raised an eyebrow. “Actually, Vic's my pilot.”

  “I see.” Van Houten harrumphed, and took a deep draught of his brandy. “Well, to each his own, my boy.” He led Doc over to a couple of overstuffed armchairs, dropping down into the cushions.

  “Go on, sit down, they'll wait for us.”

  Swirling his brandy in the snifter, Doc sat. The chair was too soft for his taste, but he didn't say anything. Sitting across from Van Houten, he tried to get a measure of the man. His short blond hair was combed straight across, and he had the flushed look of someone who had been professionally shaved just recently. His every mannerism spoke of arrogance as much as confidence. This was a man who took what he wanted because he felt it was his due.

  After a few moments under Doc's unwavering gaze, Van Houten leaned forward. “So, why are you really here?” He gestured with his snifter, taking in the plantation. “Java isn't exactly the kind of place where I'd expect to see a man of your talents.”