Alexander Outland: Space Pirate

by G. J. Koch

  She snorted. “Right. Just what do you think you’re going to threaten me with? The ancient you’re clinging to? The possibility of having sex with you? The likelihood that you have a plan other than running your mouth?”

  “Nah. I thought I’d try being friendly and, since you keep on forgetting about it, sharing some information I know you’ll want to have. Or do you really not have any interest in taking revenge on the person who offed dear old Lucky Pierre the Original?”

  “I’m interested. Somewhat, at any rate.”

  “Good. Then I’ll bet you’ll be even more interested to know all that your brother’s been up to.” She nodded. “Great. Then my real news should excite you beyond belief.”

  CHAPTER 79

  “Real news?” Charmaine’s interest finally sounded truly captured. Great. Now, just had to come up with something better than sharing that I had the entire de Chance Family Album uploaded to the Sixty-Nine.

  In cases like this, stalling had always been my friend. I decided to stick with the tried and true. I let go of the Governor—he seemed fine on his own power. Rolled my shoulders, stood up straight, relaxed a bit. Ready to leap out of the way or drop to the floor, depending.

  Took a look around. Drop to the floor would be the only option—we were still surrounded by de Chance progeny and they were still pointing weapons at us. Noted all of them were dressed like Charmaine, in what I considered “Ipsita Casual”—clothing only found in entertainment, never worn in real life.

  I took a closer look. They were all my age or younger. Most of them were closer to Tanner’s age. Lionside would seem old to them, let alone the Governor. They all also had looks on their faces that were vaguely familiar. True, I hadn’t seen something like this since I’d left Zyzzx, but some things you didn’t forget. Their expressions were all overdone, like they were copying something from the latest Ipsita release.

  Reality waved. The de Chances were poseurs. Good at it, but still, in reality, fakes, kids playing dress up with real ships and guns. Killing real people and doing very bad things, but clearly with the mindset that, in a way, it wasn’t real. I realized why Nitin had split, if, in fact, Charmaine wasn’t lying about it—he had the pure nasty naturally. The rest of them, not so much.

  I’d spent too long observing. “Well?” Charmaine sounded annoyed. Annoyed and ready to give a sign to her cast to shoot. More stalling was in order.

  “Candy?” I pulled out a random sweet from Nitin’s store and offered it to her.

  Charmaine went pale. “Don’t threaten me.”

  “With sugar? You’ve got a nice figure but a couple of extra pounds wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Don’t toy with her, Alexander,” the Governor said, voice on full quaver. “You know that’s not a candy.”

  I did? If it wasn’t a candy, what was it? Did my best not to look or sound confused. “Well, where’s the fun in not playing around?”

  “No one but a lunatic plays around with Plastiques.” Charmaine sounded different—I realized she was frightened. About time. Thought about what I was holding, and what I apparently had a pocket full of—got a little tense myself.

  Plastiques were bombs. Effective, nasty, and above all, small bombs. Disguised to look like something ordinary. And, if the Governor’s reactions were right, I was carrying a pocketful of them. Enough to blow up the entire armada.

  My original impression of Nitin returned. He hadn’t underestimated me, like Tanner thought. He hadn’t been overconfident, like Lionside thought. He’d anticipated me perfectly, right down to the smallest details—and I’d stopped thinking about it, because we’d been too busy trying to stay alive for me to really consider why Nitin would have come into that interrogation cell alone. He’d let me escape, and put this entire plan into motion. And I’d helped him, the entire way.

  No time to berate myself right now, though. I had to determine if the enemy of my enemy was a weaker or a worse enemy. The possibility of them being my friend wasn’t in the realm of reality—sure they were playing at what their grandfather had almost achieved with hard work, but the genetics were there to create havoc. Herion’s situation was proof they were effective. Which made me wonder whose plan they were following—Charmaine’s or Nitin’s. Or Lucky the First’s. Or, worse thought, someone else’s heretofore unnamed and unknown.

  “I’m not a lunatic so much as someone who doesn’t like being forced to do things against my will. Call me uncomfortable with authority other than my own.”

  Charmaine nodded. I got the distinct impression she was trying not to make me mad. Did a remedial review of Plastiques. They were set off by a variety of mechanisms—sound, force, triggers. Really, you named it, a Plastique could go off at any time from it.

  We hadn’t blown to bits when we were in Lake Disgusting, so I had to presume these weren’t sound-sensitive. We weren’t blowing up now, so if they were trigger-set, Nitin’s triggering mechanism had been destroyed. This left the easy answer of force as the explosive mechanism. If you chewed it, your head and the heads of anyone within a mile radius would explode. Wondered if the Land League had been using these explosives to blow up the bathhouse and the Crazy Bear. Decided that was more of an issue for Lionside to be concerned with than me.

  I closed my hand around the candy. “Now, before I ensure no one on this ship ever has to worry about creating the next generation of de Chances, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  “We want to control the galaxy.” Charmaine said this like it was some big reveal.

  “Yeah, really clear on that. Put the damned weapons away or I squeeze my hand really hard.” She nodded, the weapons went down.

  The Governor did a slow turn. “He meant all the weapons, children, not just the ones in the front. That’s better.” He shook his head. “Amateurs.”

  “No argument.” I shot Charmaine my best withering glare. I’d seen it enough from Slinkie, figured I was probably good at imitating it. “Whose plan is it you’re following?”

  Plastiques or no, she got annoyed. Her eyes narrowed again and she clenched her jaw. Not bad. Slinkie still looked better doing something like this, though. “My plan. Are you insinuating I can’t think strategically because I’m a woman?”

  “No, I’m insinuating that I already know you’re following the blueprint your dearly departed set up decades ago. I’m asking why your brother’s on Herion and just what is it the two of you think you’re pulling.”

  She opened her mouth and the sound of claxons came out of it. Charmaine closed her mouth. The claxons continued. Something of a relief, really.

  One of the family who hadn’t been surrounding us raced over. Not as good in the looks department as Charmaine but did have a decent rack. I could tell, because faux pirate wear didn’t really offer the lift and support so important to the full-figured woman.

  “Commander, Herion Military ships coming to engage!”

  CHAPTER 80

  Charmaine barked orders and the Governor and I were suddenly very alone. Plastiques held nothing like the terror a Herion Military fleet did.

  “So, you think Lionside called in the troops?”

  “Sadly, no, Alexander. I think Nitin got rid of the one man who might possibly have stood in his way by making it more worthwhile for the Major to join up with us.”

  “Yeah, sadly, that’s what I was thinking, too.” I pondered. “I really want to go back to the Sixty-Nine and get our flock out of here.”

  “Not an option. This armada must be stopped or at least have their wings severely clipped. And Nitin cannot be allowed to follow Lucky Pierre’s plan with the might of Herion Military behind him.”

  I sighed. “I knew you were going to say that.” I pondered—I didn’t want the Sixty-Nine engaged unless we had no shot of survival otherwise. “I wish I could talk to Tanner.”

  The Governor shrugged. “What do you want to ask him?”

  “Which ship in this fleet is the best and which pilot is the worst.”

/>   The Governor closed his eyes. “Huh, interesting. The flagship would be considered best, but young Tanner says the ship manned by the worst pilot would probably be more what you’re looking for.”

  “Um, how are you talking to him?”

  “Comlink.”

  “We don’t use comlinks.”

  “You, Randolph and Slinkie don’t use comlinks because you all mistakenly feel they contributed to Saladine’s death. Audrey, as a logical being, knows differently. Ergo, she uses a comlink. I have one installed, and young Tanner agreed it was a good idea. The Major did as well.”

  “So you can chat with the three of them?”

  “When necessary, yes.”

  “Where’s it installed, your brain? You didn’t repeat anything I said.”

  “It’s in a molar. Very safe, very easy, hard to spot, convenient because it’s also close to the ear canal. You’re standing next to me and the range is very good. Hence, Tanner could hear you because I could hear you.”

  “When did you have time to do this?”

  “When we returned to the ship. On Herion. While you were playing around with the Hulkinator. It doesn’t take long. And it doesn’t hurt. Which I mention so you’ll whine less when you finally see reason.” He reached into my shirt and pulled out the matter-shifter. “You might want to hold onto me again, Alexander.” I grabbed him around his shoulders just in time.

  We did the shift and my stomach complained. This one wasn’t quite as bad as the first, possibly because we weren’t going as far. We were in the cockpit of a different ship. One of the many vaguely familiar de Chances was piloting, assisted by a different de Chance as copilot.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” the pilot shouted. I let go of the Governor and slammed the de Chance heads together. Lionside probably would’ve gotten a better crack, but I represented Zyzzx pretty well. They both went down and out.

  The Governor and I flung them out of the cockpit. “Nice, a locking door.” I so locked. “Think they’ll shoot through it?”

  “No. I plan to advise Miss de Chance that we’re here.” The Governor put on the communications headset this ship ran with and started chatting. I decided my skills were better used in figuring out how this ship flew.

  The ship appeared to have been from Weshria originally—I recognized the instrument panel. Good for me, I could fly all of Weshria’s ships. I hadn’t been on it long or gotten a tour, but I was pretty sure the command ship was from Earth. Took a guess that the other ships in this fleet would be from a variety of planets.

  I wondered why the Governor, Tanner and Lionside had accepted a comlink so easily. Especially one that was internal to the head. Maybe Lionside and Tanner had just gotten used to taking orders. Or their military training said it was no big deal.

  Memory stirred. The Governor and I had been pretty sure this crew was following a military leader. But Charmaine didn’t seem like military so much as she seemed like a good actress. Nitin was military, but I was inclined to believe Charmaine—it was too clear he was working his own scheme. So, who was the military brains behind the New French Ticklers?

  “I need to talk to Randolph.”

  The Governor sighed. “For all your complaining about him, pray he never dies or gets sick of you. You can’t manage without regular contact with him.”

  “Many would say the same about you. Want me to airlock both of you and see how I do, just for the sake of scientific discovery?”

  “So testy. The Major has secured a private channel from this ship to the Sixty-Nine. Only live in the cockpit.” He flipped a switch. “Go ahead.”

  “Randolph, the Peter Chance you won the manual from, what line of work was he in and what planet was he from?”

  “He was from Earth, Nap, at least as far as I could tell. He was on leave when I met him, didn’t really discuss his career, sorry.”

  On leave. Only one class of person called a vacation taking leave. “What branch of the military was he in, do you remember?”

  “No. He wasn’t in uniform.”

  “Audrey?”

  “Running queries now, Captain. Hulky is helping tremendously, I must add. We wouldn’t be able to contact you or Galaxy Central without his help, due to our location.”

  “Have either the armada or the Herion fleet found you?”

  “Not as far as we can tell.”

  “Good. Let me know when you find something, anything, Audrey.”

  “Will do, Captain.”

  “Nap, what in the egg is going on?”

  “Herion Military’s decided to join the fun, Slink. I think Lucky, Junior’s still alive and running the show. Need to find out where he is and do the whole déjà vu thing all over again.”

  “You sure? I mean, Randolph beat him at poker.” Slinkie didn’t sound convinced that anyone who Randolph could beat could be in charge of this kind of operation. I couldn’t blame her.

  “You know, you play with the best and things do rub off.” Randolph sounded offended. Guessed I couldn’t blame him, either.

  A thought niggled. “Governor, would you say this was an impromptu or long-term strategic plan?”

  He snorted. “Long-term strategic, Alexander.”

  “I hate to say it gang, but I’m impressed. Audrey, we need to find where Pierre de Chance, Peter Chance, or whatever the many hells he could be calling himself is, what he looks like, and, most importantly, how we get there to kill him.”

  “No argument, Captain. But why?”

  “Because everyone, even Tanner, was wrong. We aren’t in this predicament because of me, Tanner, Slinkie or any other human on board. We’re in this predicament because of you.”

  CHAPTER 81

  Had to think. Had to fly and think, but flying was second nature. The Governor had cleared us helping the Pirates de Chance with Charmaine. Had to figure she’d take the assist and worry about getting rid of me after we got away from or rid of the Herion fleet. Which bought me some time, but not much.

  Left the armada and zipped around the fleet. Figured it was time to see what we were up against. Thirty ships, half of them battlecruisers, the rest good-sized fighters. No individual jobs, which was good and bad. Good because it meant we had less little bugs to worry about. Bad because they might just be waiting to pour out from some of the cruisers.

  “Lionside, where did these ships come from if we blew up the main spaceport on our way out of town?”

  “If they’re military, they came from our base. Military and civilian don’t use the same spaceport.” He made it sound obvious. Maybe on Herion it was. On Zyzzx and good number of other planets, a spaceport was a spaceport. “Nitin would have had time to get there from Spaceport City—if he survived the explosion.”

  “Of course he survived it. Learn now—our luck doesn’t run any other way.” That Nitin was leading this fleet was a given. “Audrey, if you can spare the time, I want all information on Nigel Nitin pulled out of the Herion Master Computer and the Earth Master, too. Figure he’s going by Nigel de Chance on Earth.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem, Captain.” She still sounded calm and cheerful.

  “Oh, and Audrey? Have a chat with Lionside. I’d like you to start learning when it’s great not to sound all perky.”

  “This is one of those times, Captain?”

  “Yes.”

  “Got it.” Her voice went tense. “Making all haste with the searches.”

  “Much better, thanks.” Went back to flying and pondering. The Governor went onto the ship’s command and started barking orders to shoot at the military vessels. One of the many secrets I didn’t want anyone to get too comfortable with was that if I really needed or wanted a copilot, the Governor was the best option. Not necessarily better than Audrey—it was hard to beat a computer, after all—but he’d been better than Jack Rock and pretty much as good as Saladine. But having a ninety-some-year-old geezer as your copilot was pretty much the recipe for ridicule in 99.9% of the galaxy. And it didn’t hide
him nearly as well as him being my perennial passenger did.

  “Children, is it so hard to comprehend that you are the ones under attack? Truly, is this the first time you’ve been challenged? Ever?” Yep, the Governor was enjoying himself.

  This ship wasn’t the Sixty-Nine, but it handled well. Spent a lot of time spinning away from laser cannon fire. The fleet was doing a typical military move—they were trying to surround the armada. “Governor, put the full navigation onscreen for me, will you?” He sighed but did as requested. Nice to see Charmaine wasn’t just sitting around. The armada had followed my lead and were erratically circling the fleet.

  So Lucky, Junior had two kids and daddy’s plan. Pierre the first had undoubtedly been the one who’d gotten his hands on the robotics manual, and somehow he’d passed it along to his #1 son.

  But none of them possessed the technical know-how to make an Audrey. Randolph had said it took a lot of skill and training to be able to even read and comprehend the manual, let alone do the creations. Those skills were few and far between. Audrey had been right—if I hadn’t kept Randolph with me, because of how badly he did on anything at the Academy not technically-based, a low-level position at a Thurge power plant would be all he could have hoped for. I was the only one who’d seen the genius in him. He hid it well, after all. Contemplated my lifelong streak of finding the best misfit in any crowd. Decided I’d navel-gaze once I could feel confident I’d still have a navel to gaze at.

  So that meant Junior had to find someone with the technical expertise and the willingness to give it a go. Maybe that was why the second generation hadn’t done anything—no one with the right know-how had been found. Or they all hated each other, which was my gut guess, based on my observations of most extended families I’d ever run across.

  That Junior had lost the poker game intentionally was now a given. He’d put the manual up not because he was stupid but because he was clever. Knowing Randolph, he’d looked at and discussed the merits and veracity of the manual—I’d trained him to make sure he was getting real Knaboor Ducats, after all, not dressed up pieces of comet. Proving Randolph’s qualifications would have been easy.