“Those foolish lawyers,” Prince Pineapple said, glowering around. “Our lowest social strata. And there are so many of them! They tried to gain favor with Lord Abercrombie by offering you.”
“Offering us? To what?”
“To our planetary God, Lord Abercrombie. It was a mistake, for which I apologize profusely.”
The Fruit lawyers hung their heads in shame.
Evans leaned close to Javik’s ear and whispered, “Could it be the same Abercrombie, with a new scam?”
“We’ll find but,” Javik whispered. Then: “We’d better do as they say. Too many of them.” He removed the ship’s black and white striped Tasnard rope from its wall hook. At his mento-command, the rope secured itself to the base of the science officer’s console. A small pang of pain struck at the rear of his head, then subsided.
Evans wrapped the Tasnard rope around her chest and under her armpits. At her mento-command, the rope dropped her gently to the ground.
Javik followed.
“Honored to meet you,” Prince Pineapple said, bowing graciously as Javik reached the ground. The prince straightened to face Javik, and his black button eyes wavered nervously. He was a towering Fruit, fully half a head taller than Javik.
“Thank you,” Javik said, bowing in return. Don’t trust anyone who won’t look you in the eye, he thought, recalling his commanders’ Psych 101 course.
On the ground at Prince Pineapple’s feet, Wizzy breathed deeply and loudly. Javik noticed this and saw that Wizzy was accumulating more dust from the motion of feet around him.
Prince Pineapple smiled, revealing puffy white teeth which resembled kernels of white corn. Looking past Javik at the Amanda Marie, he said, “You must understand our unfortunate lawyers. Since Decision Coins were implemented for virtually all matters, we have little need of legal advice.”
“Seedy-looking bunch,” Javik muttered.
“Lawyers hang-around this clearing looking for clients,” the prince explained. “Rumor has it one attorney found a client here two years ago. It became hallowed ground for them after that.”
“I see,” Javik said, shuffling his feet impatiently.
Prince Pineapple felt obliged to explain further: “The cannister-lined pathway and sacrifice hole are hallowed for all
Fruits,” he said. “It looks like our local dimwits saw your ship and mistook it for a giant gar-bahge cannister. We toss most of our gar-bahge in the sacrifice hole for Lord Abercrombie.”
Javik fingered a pimple on the side of his neck.
“They are desperate to win Lord Abercrombie’s favor. Poor creatures think they’ve been cursed.” After reflecting for a second, Prince Pineapple added, “Maybe it’s true.”
“What an odd place this is,” Evans said.
“Don’t impose Earth standards,” Wizzy said from the ground, using an instructor’s tone. Breathing loudly, Wizzy glowed softly orange. The dust particles on his surface melted and disappeared. He became dark blue again.
“None of us have been ourselves lately,” Prince Pineapple said. “It’s this infernal gar-bahge thing, you know. Tremendous pressure over it. The Planet God has been troubled.” To hell with Lord Abercrombie! he thought. The foolishness he condones!
Javik smiled uneasily. He looked back at his ship, noting many dents, torn pieces of skin, and numerous abrasions. It would require a major overhaul to make it spaceworthy again. “How were we blown back out of the hole?” he asked, turning to face the pineapple prince.
“Don’t step on me!” Wizzy squealed. A prune man stood on him.
Prince Pineapple hesitated as he focused on Fruit people who were pressing in around them, listening to every word. Some took notes on long clip pads or whispered back and forth excitedly, using their Corkian legalese.
“Move along now!” Prince Pineapple commanded. “Make way!” He waved his arms demonstratively.
Javik noticed now that the prince and all the Fruits had four fingers and a thumb on each hand like any human, except the thumb was on the outside of the hand.
Slowly, the throng moved back.
“Come with me,” Prince Pineapple said to Javik and Evans. He guided them toward an opening in the crowd. “It will be dusk soon.”
“I’ll join you laterr” Wizzy said. “I need a breather.”
Javik held back. “My ship will be safe here?” he asked.
“Your ship is nearly new. New things have no value to our people.”
Javik scratched his head thoughtfully. “Is that so? Well, it’s received quite a bit of damage. Doesn’t look so new to me anymore.”
“Hmmm,” Prince Pineapple said, studying the Amanda Marie, “The damage helps a little. Still, I do not find it very appealing. Perhaps with a few more dents and abrasions . . . ”
“I can’t leave my ship with this mob,” Javik said.
The prince shrugged. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll post guards, then. Will that make you feel better?”
“It will.”
Prince Pineapple spoke with a cluster of banana man lawyers, instructing them to stand guard over the craft. Then he drew forth a purple and black checkered wallet, removing several creased pieces of paper which looked to Javik like old Earth candy bar and gum wrappers.
Leaning close, Javik verified this. He recognized wrappers from a Big Hunk, a Hershey’s plain, and a Juicy Fruit.
Solemnly, Prince Pineapple handed a creased wrapper to each of the banana men. They nodded and stuffed the wrappers in their pockets.
“Juicy Fruits are the most valuable,” the prince said to Javik. He slipped the wallet back into his pants pocket.
“I see,” Javik said.
When they were out of earshot of the lawyers, Prince Pineapple said: “Poor devils. Our law schools still pump out so many of them.”
Evans caught Javik’s gaze. She raised her eyebrows.
Prince Pineapple led the way along a rough path which skirted the piney woods: ‘The sacrifice hole appeared several years back,” he said as they reached late afternoon shade. “Lord Abercrombie’s metal men dug it. I saw them.”
“Metal men?” Evans said. “You mean meckies?”
“I don’t know what they’re called,” Prince Pineapple said. The prince’s cadence changed now as they continued along the path. His steps became staccato-quick and inefficient. The big pineapple man was expending a lot of energy but not moving commensurately fast.
Javik and Evans rolled as best as they could on the uneven surface, but tripped several times as their moto-boot wheels encountered stones, twigs, and tufts of dirt. At one point, Javik fell to his knees.
“Hurry now,” the prince said, looking back. “The king is waiting.” I must act as though I care, he thought. Or the king will suspect . . .
Javik touched a button on his moto-boots to eject the wheels and wheel frames. He tossed them aside.
Evans did the same, leaving both of them wearing unmotorized service boots. “That’s better,” she said, testing them on the ground.
“Unusual shoes you Earthians wear,” Prince Pineapple said. “Hurry now!”
“More suited to Earth, it seems,” Javik said as they resumed their course. He added: “This Planet God, Lord Abercrombie. He is terribly upset at the gar-bahge situation?”
“Oh yes! Indeed he is! And so is King Corker, It is a good thing you arrived now. We could not have survived much longer.” Odd that Earthians would appear just now, he thought. By morning, I will be gone, scroll or no scroll.
“I can imagine,” Javik said, scanning the terrain. “You’ve certainly managed to keep the planet clean,” he added. “In view of our garbage, I mean.” I expected to see junk strewn all over hell, he thought.
Prince Pineapple led them over a sturdy wooden bridge which traversed a dry creek bed. “What wonderful gar-bahge you Earthians have!” he exclaimed. Oh, the foolishness I must endure! he thought. There is more to life than gar-bahge. There must be!
Wonderful? Javik thought. Is he bein
g sarcastic? “They tried landfills on Earth many years ago,” he said. “But we ran out of space and had to catapult the stuff.” A little light went on in Javik’s head now as he put Abercrombie, the sacrifice hole, and the garbage together. The same guy! he thought. What’s’ he up to here?
Facing a fork in the path just after they left the bridge, Prince Pineapple selected the left path, which led them into the forest. This was a narrow neck of woods, and through streaks of sunlight Javik could see a clearing not far ahead. Beyond that loomed a large gray structure. He heard crowd noises and the roar of powerful engines.
Presently they left the woods, stepping into full sunlight. The terrain was flat here, with a town of low buildings visible beyond the gray structure.
“Wait!” a little voice squealed from somewhere behind them.
“It’s your little meckie,” Evans said. “Welcome back, Wizzy.”
Wizzy came out of the woods, moving along the ground in staggering spurts, resting and then scooting for very short distances. He glowed a dim, sickly yellow which appeared on the verge of extinction. When he arrived, Evans reached down and lifted him to her eye level. He felt warm and wet.
“The little guy’s panting!” Evans said. “This is one complex meckie!”
“I have emotions too,” Wizzy said proudly. “I am similar to you in many ways.”
“Sometimes he forgets he’s a meckie,” Javik said, scowling at Wizzy. Javik’s sea blue eyes flashed angrily.
“You take him,” Evans said, handing Wizzy to Javik. “He’s all sweaty.” She wiped her hands on her jumpsuit.
As Javik accepted Wizzy, a strong gust of wind blew, drying the baby comet’s surface. Surprised at how heavy Wizzy was, Javik noticed that his surface felt sandpaper-rough and lumpy. On closer inspection, he noticed little stones, pieces of dirt, and twigs embedded in Wizzy’s stony skin. He brushed Wizzy’s back, but the debris remained.
“A natural process,” Wizzy explained. “I am beginning to accumulate material as my system feels able to assimilate it. That is how I grow in the physical sense.” He glowed orange-hot, forcing Javik to let go quickly. Wizzy hovered in midair where Javik’s hand had left him. His lumpy body became smooth and molten. Then he cooled, returning to dark blue.
Hesitantly, Javik retrieved him.
“We must hurry,” Prince Pineapple said. “The king does not like to be kept waiting.. .waiting . . . waiting . . . ” His voice slowed, and his black button eyes rolled upward. Desperately, he dropped to the ground on the seat of his checkered pants. He unsnapped the small folding shovel from his belt. His motions were painstakingly slow.
Three times Javik reached out with the hand that did not hold Wizzy, offering to help. Each time, Prince Pineapple shook his head negatively.
From his vantage point on Javik’s hand, Wizzy watched the prince unwrap a slender barbed cord from the shovel handle. Then he removed one shoe and sock and wrapped the cord around his bare foot.
Catching Evans’s gaze, Javik shrugged.
By now, Prince Pineapple was quite run down and an unhealthy shade of pale brown. He unfolded the shovel and dug in the soil between his outstretched legs. The ground was hard here, permitting the prince only slow progress.
“Let me help,” Javik said, touching the shovel handle.
Weakly, Prince Pineapple pushed him away.
“He is like me,” Wizzy said. “I get awfully tired too.”
The pineapple prince was leaning on the shovel now, breathing very slowly.
“He’s more than just tired,” Javik said. “It’s like he has a run-down battery.”
“My foot,” Prince Pineapple said, looking at Javik. “Help me get it in the hole.”
Javik set Wizzy on the ground and pushed the prince’s stubby leg until his wrapped foot was in the hole. As the foot touched the freshly dug soil, Javik saw sharp barbs spring out from the cord, stabbing into the ground like hungry roots.
Presently, the prince’s breathing became more rapid. The rich golden color returned to his face. “I shouldn’t have tried to go so long on my morning charge,” he said with a deep sigh. “Not on such an active day.”
“You were right, Captain Tom,” Wizzy said, hopping on the palm of Javik s hand.
“We are Fruits of the soil,” Prince Pineapple said with a serene expression. “Children of Lord Abercrombie.”
“That name again,” Evans said.
Minutes later, Prince Pineapple’s expression became angry as he pulled his foot from the ground and unwrapped it. “I hate myself for needing Lord Abercrombie,” he said. “We are his captives, you know, unable to lead our own lives.” He wiped his foot with a moist-pak towelette, then replaced his sock and shoe.
“What do you mean?” Wizzy asked, jumping to Javik’s shoulder.
Prince Pineapple rose and wrapped the barbed cord around the handle of his folding shovel. Then he replaced the items on his belt clip. “Lord Abercrombie does not just give us nutrition,” he said. “With that comes the worst sort of dogma . . . little statements from him to mold our opinions, to make us revere him. He even comes to us in dreams! No rest! He gives us no rest!” The prince grew silent, disturbed with himself for saying too much.
When they resumed their course on the path, Javik noticed that Prince Pineapple’s cadence had improved, having eliminated the wasted motions. One of the three synchronized suns was partially obscured now, having dropped below the horizon formed by the buildings ahead.
Catching up with the prince, Javik held Wizzy out for him to see. “This little lump of stone is Wizzy,” Javik said, revealing only a little derision in his tone. “A mechanical unit.”
Prince Pineapple glanced back at Wizzy only briefly, for he had more important matters on his mind. King Corker is already unhappy with me, he thought. I must try to please him, just for tonight. Can’t have him ordering me into detention. Not when I am so close.
“I’m science officer on the ship,” Wizzy said.
“Oh?” Prince Pineapple said. “That’s very nice.”
Javik smiled as he followed the prince. “Wizzy thinks he fulfills an important role on the ship.”
“Can’t you say anything nice about me?” Wizzy asked.
“Well,” Javik said with a sneer. “I’ll think very hard about that. Maybe I can come up with something, if I take long enough.” He placed Wizzy back on his shoulder.
“Hrrrumph!” Wizzy said.
To their left beyond a small meteor crater Evans saw a throng of carrot men and women being led out of cattle chutes. Fruit guards prodded the carrot people with electric sticks, using the power of blue shocks to herd them toward a ramp. At the top of the ramp was an elongated piece of machinery with what appeared to be conveyor strips.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“A power plant,” Prince Pineapple said. “It’s nearly dusk, and extra power is required to run the lights. The Vegetable slaves jog on a treadmill to generate electricity.”
“What about solar power?” Javik asked. “With three suns, I would have thought—”
“No need for that,” Prince Pineapple said. “This keeps the Vegetables busy . . . and in their places.” It might have been much worse for me, he thought. At least I’m a Fruit.
Javik grunted. He heard boisterous crowd noises and the roar of engines clearly now. The sounds came from the vicinity of the towering gray structure, which was perhaps five hundred meters ahead. Seeing colorfully dressed spectators on top, Javik realized it was the back of an immense grandstand. To one side of the grandstand he saw blue and pink streaks and balls of flame, and heard the pop-pop of what sounded like gunfire.
“Many Earthians used to arrive in your gar-bahge cannisters, you know,” the prince said.
“I know,” Javik responded. “We ran out of burial space on Earth. I will apologize to your king, of course.”
“No need for that. We have put the Earthians to good use.”
“Oh?”
“I wil
l show you,” Prince Pineapple said. “Just ahead.”
The path turned toward the grandstand. It was a wood frame thing, with horizontal rows of weathered, rough-hewn boards. In sunlight to one side, Javik focused on a group of male Earth humanoids with the same oversized heads as those in the Davis Droids. They wore glossy blue and pink uniforms and were gathered around unusual-looking land vehicles.
“The atmosphere here,” Evans said to Javik, hearing her own words crackle nervously in the air. “Wizzy said it was different.”
“Nurinium did it,” Wizzy said from Javik’s shoulder.
Javik scowled as they walked by. “Looks like they used old Earth parts to assemble these cars,” he said. “That one has a DeMartini front end, but the rest looks like shop work.”
Evans studied one vehicle as they passed close. It was Wind-sea blue and white, covered with dents, with mismatched body parts that had undergone extensive welding. The windshield glassplex was cracked, and none of the other windows had any glassplex at all. A large-caliber gun was turret-mounted on the roof, with smaller machine guns on each fender, two guns at the front and two at the rear. Three humanoids were looking in the engine compartment, speaking to one another in loud monotones.
A crowd roar drowned put the voices.
The three bulbous-headed humanoids paused to watch Javik and Evans with bloodshot eyes. Javik noticed they had yellow-stained teeth, like the “before” segment of a videodome toothpaste commercial. Grape men guards rushed over and prodded them with electric sticks. Blue lances sprung from the tips of the sticks, jolting the humanoids to return to work.
“Those guards are Corkers,” Prince Pineapple said. “Highest of the Fruit castes.”
Javik counted six legs on each Corker. Grenache purple and rotund, they had plastic containers strapped to their backs.
One humanoid who had just been shocked into action donned a blue and black helmet and strapped it tight around his chin. Then he climbed through the window of the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Seconds later, the vehicle roared to life, sending a huge streak of bright blue flame out of the tail.
This caught an inattentive Corker dead center, sending him rolling away. Singed and angry, he sprang to his feet and ran after the car. Another ball of flame sent him reeling.
The Garbage Chronicles Page 9