The Astoundingly True Tale of José Fabuloso

by Jolie Jaquinta

  Chapter 13

  “So, like, they were all dark and glowery,” reported Squirrel back at the ship. “You know, wool under florescent lights. All sense of foreboding and no sense of taste. Just plonked themselves down trying to look deep and mysterious in their dark glasses in the dark lighting. So special.”

  “What did they say,” asked O'Riley.

  “They didn't get that far. Hey, it's not like I haven't had plenty of experience of unwelcome men, usually drunk, trying to force their company on me.”

  “How did you stop them?” said O'Riley, curious. “I should take notes. You know, competitive analysis.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s easy. I learned the trick from my Aunt Horen. You just keep talking. Yabber, yabber, yabber. Don't let them get a word in edgewise.”

  “Talk about playing to your strengths” said the old man.

  “They either relish the attention they think they are getting or get annoyed at not being able to hear their own voice and don't bother you.”

  “Your Aunt is also a stripper?” asked José.

  “No,” said Squirrel testily. “She's not a dancer. She's a nosy poisonous woman who, if let say anything, will say something as cruel as she can think of.”

  “OK,” said José.

  “This isn't the first time,” said M'Elise.

  “Seriously! It happens all the time. Parasites.”

  “No. That's not what I mean” said M'Elise. “Some wannabe co-op poseur pulled the same stunt on me back on Mérida.”

  “Are you beginning to think he wasn't a poseur?” asked the old man.

  “Oh, he was a poseur all right. He had to retreat to the men's room after I gave him some lip.”

  “You go sister!” cheered Squirrel, punching her hand.

  “Scared the crap out of him, eh?” commented O'Riley.

  M'Elise shook her head. “No, just offended his gravitas. Still... I don't like it.” She cursorily checked the view screen. “I doubt the co-ops are stalking us. Its dead here. We might as well move on anyway.”

  “Works for me,” said Squirrel. “I've been through enough shops to know it's not worth it.”

  “I can get her arse in gear in an hour or so,” added O'Riley.

  “OK. Four hours till launch. Let's head toward Grenoble. That takes us back towards Van Cove. There's bound to be trade headed there.”

  “Yes,” said the old man. “That could be an interesting direction.”

  “I think you really pissed that guy off,” said Squirrel, watching the system traffic scan. “He and his buddy are still following us.”

  “But I didn't touch them!” protested José.

  “Yeah, but you didn't touch them by only a hand span” said Squirrel, indicating the distance with her hands. “It's a personal space thing.”

  “We got fined,” said M'Elise, filing the hardcopy ticket in José's folder. “He should be happy enough.” She mused for a while, flicking through the folder's contents. “If they ever index link the traffic fines to income or inflation you may have to give up your hobby, José.”

  “Never!” swore José.

  “I know. It's the only fun you have.” She turned to look at Squirrel's console. “Who are these picky people anyway?”

  “Government surplus carriers, irregular,” she read.

  “Oh. Junks.” Squirrel looked quizzical. “The government is into the whole expansion thing. You know, '40 worlds are not enough'... So they crank out these crates to run bulk shipments to and from the outback. Glass beads and stuff out, and priceless native treasures back in. They pay for themselves on the first run, so the government looks at them like disposables. They sell them off cheap to encourage trade. Usually they come with a stipulation or contract to operate between certain politically connected worlds at fixed prices. It's a big mutual back patting scam.

  “I looked into them for a long time. Everyone in trade school dreams of having their own ship. Realistically that's the only sort of ship an independent is likely to be able to afford.”

  “I take it you mean legally,” said Squirrel. M'Elise laughed. “Is that what you were thinking of getting if you sold this?”

  “Maybe. Depends on how much of a cut the black market takes for fencing something as memorable as a Narcissus. Everyone would go crazy though. They are a bitch to maintain and they can barely move out of their own way. I'm surprised these two can even keep up with us.”

  “I think they have been refit,” said José. “They looked kind of funny when I clipped them.”

  M'Elise laughed again. “That's our José.” She contemplated a while. “It's funny though, you almost never really see other ships.”

  “What do you mean? Station traffic control is full of them.”

  “Sure, blips on the screen, names on arrival boards, numbers in berths. It's only at a downport like Mérida where you might physically see an actual ship. And, even then, unless you had business on that pad why would you even get close enough?”

  “So why do we have the fancy paint job then?”

  “To impress rich idiots. They'd be better off checking out the performance, the capacity or even the seat cushions. But if your ship looks like a personal massage device it pulls them in.”

  Squirrel watched for a bit longer. “What sort of mods can you put on a junk?”

  “I've seen some double the transition drive for longer range, replace the environmentals with something that doesn't break down and stink mid-jump, or slap a bigger engine pack on to get better margin by delivering to high gravity worlds with only a downport. But it usually isn't worth it unless you get one for free. Otherwise the payback time is just too high.”

  “We'll they've definitely done something”, said Squirrel. “'cause they're catching up with us.”

  “No way!” M'Elise swing back around. “ José? How far are we from transition?”

  “We've got about twenty to go. But we just left the port's jurisdiction so we can go faster.”

  “Why don't you do that.” He cackled and revved up the engines.

  “Something wrong?” asked Squirrel.

  “Junks are also popular with smugglers and pirates. Lots of places to hide stuff. Easy to blend in with the crowd. Room for an extra power plant, fuel tank and whatever arms you can scavenge.”

  “Oh” said Squirrel quietly. They watched in disbelief as the gap narrowed further, even with their burst of speed.

  “Crap” swore M'Elise.

  “I thought this ship was supposed to be fast!” said Squirrel.

  M'Elise started typing furiously on her console. “Not fast, maneuverable.”

  “What's the difference?”

  “José can loop the loop around just about anything, but in a straight sprint like this, that doesn't amount to much.” She punched the internal comm. “Riley. We've got trouble. Two black knights on our tail. How far can we push this ship?”

  “You're asking me?” he said with amusement. “José drives it at least 10% above where I'd push it to. I just fix it.”

  “Start transitional prep” ordered M'Elise. “We may have to jump short. Tell our freeloading janitor to strap his false teeth down. It could get rough.”

  “I tried the police band,” said Squirrel. “They laughed.”

  “They have no sense of humor. Did you try the ships themselves?”

  “No. What would I say to them?”

  “I don't know. Tell them we're heavily armed or something.”

  “We are armed, right?”

  “Checking...”

  “Checking? You don't know?”

  “The manual listed it as an option. Advised against it since it would spoil the lines.”

  Squirrel activated the system comm. “This is the José Fabuloso ('Fabuloso!' cheered José in the background) hailing the two inbound Junks. Look, we're really sorry about cutting you off back at the port. Really, really sorry. Can we just call it quits?”

  The silence continued. Squirrel bit her limp. “
Look. We're peace loving people but we have a two kilowatt laser and we're prepared to use it.”

  “Um, Squirrel. Your hairdryer uses more than two kilowatts” M'Elise pointed out.

  “I repeat, we have a two gigawatt laser, which we will use if we have to” Squirrel corrected.

  “That's about the entire output of the planet we just left.” whispered M'Elise.

  “OK. So I have a problem with scale. What do we actually have?” said Squirrel, a bit edgy.

  “An emergency countermeasures system.”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “A polychromatic aerosol that envelops the ships and disperses energy armaments and targeting radar.” M'Elise read from the manual.

  “I repeat: what the hell is that?”

  “A smokescreen.”

  “Crap! I can put up a better smokescreen than that.” She picked up the mic again and then noticed it was already on broadcast. She turned it off and buried her head in her hands.

  “There are three ships now” said José. “The new one is very small and fast.”

  “That's not a ship” said M'Elise, with some alarm. “That's a torpedo!”

  “We're so dead” moaned Squirrel.

  “To activate the countermeasures system, first select the emergency menu from the admin screen,” read M'Elise aloud.

  “You've never done this before?” asked Squirrel incredulously. “I thought you had a cert in weapon’ systems.”

  “Yes, I aced the exam. No, it's not something I do every day. Can you just read the damn instructions to me?”

  Squirrel read the directions haltingly and M'Elise ran through the enablement activation.

  José fishtailed the ship from one side to the other. The torpedo corrected course. José fishtailed a few more times watching it react. He then grinned, flexed his fingers on the controls and brought the ship around.

  “José?” asked M'Elise, looking up from the third confirmation screen. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to get closer.” He was now on a head on course for the torpedo.

  “You're playing chicken with a torpedo?” asked Squirrel. “You know it doesn't have anything to lose.”

  “I can fly better when I'm closer.”

  “They blow up better when they're closer. Had you considered that?” she asked in a quavering voice.

  “Ah,” said M'Elise. “Turning radius. Quite smart José.” And to Squirrel, “We have a tighter turning radius than the torpedo.”

  “So we can park in a better spot than it? How does that get us past the blowing up part?” Squirrel's voice cracked.

  “We play chicken, but we turn first. We can turn faster than it can,” said José. “So it will miss.”

  Squirrel blinked several times. “Then what?”

  There was an awkward silence. “Let's get that far first” said M'Elise. “What's the next screen?”

  The distance between them closed rapidly. Their token defenses were now armed and M'Elise had her finger on the control. José flexed his fingers as the ship bore down upon the torpedo.

  “B-B-Brace for impact” stuttered Squirrel over the public address.

  Suddenly, unexpectedly, the screen lit up with an explosion. M'Elise reflexively fired the countermeasures and Squirrel screamed. José held course but put the ship into full reverse, cutting their velocity.

  “What the hell was that?” shouted Squirrel.

  “I don't know” growled M'Elise scanning on all bands. “Our own tax write-off countermeasures are fouling the scan.”

  “Peek-a-boo! I see you!” sang José and hit the accelerator again. They shot out of the cloud of debris and chaff, straight into the path of one of the oncoming junks. Squirrel screamed as every collision alert siren the ship had went off.

  M'Elise clung to her station white knuckled as the artificial gravity struggled to compensate for José's wild changes in course. Squirrel's screaming changed pitch as the Junk loomed large before them. However it remained fixed on the screen, tumbling and turning, while the stars wheeled about erratically in the background. Her voice trailed off into a confused whimper.

  M'Elise looked from the screen to the scan to José playing the controls like a radioactive piano. “Ride 'em José!” she shouted.

  “Ride who?” asked Squirrel. “What's happening? Why aren't we dead?”

  “I fly better close” said José.

  “He's sticking to them like glue” said M'Elise. “I told you this ship was maneuverable. We can turn faster than that junk can rotate. This guy can't get a bead on us and the other won't fire for fear of hitting the fist.”

  “Unless we make a mistake” said Squirrel.

  “I'm doing OK” said José.

  “Don't talk! Just fly!” said Squirrel.

  The incoming communications light activated. “Oh, now they want to talk,” said M'Elise. “You're on kiddo.”

  “What do I say?”

  “Just be cool. Like whatever smoke you were going to blow earlier.”

  Squirrel shuddered, pulled on the helmet, and lowered the visor till she couldn't see the view screen anymore. “Hello? This is the José Fabuloso. How may I direct your call?”

  “Ok Fabuloso. You're very funny over there. You can cut it out now” came a peeved response.

  “Um. Then what? Get blown out of the sky by you? I don't think so.”

  “Us, blow you up? Now why would we do an unfriendly thing like that?”

  “Oh, I don't know. Something about that EXPLODING TORPEDO might have tipped us off.”

  “That was a warning shot!”

  “Consider us warned. We're not pulling over.”

  “Look. This is getting annoying.”

  “You think this is annoying? How do you think we feel?”

  “Just pull over, or else.”

  “So, you do want to blow us up.”

  “No we don't want to blow you up. We just want...” there was a pause.

  “Yes?”

  “To say hello” he finished weakly.

  “Fine. Hello. Now go away.”

  “No. Up close and personal like.”

  “Sorry. I don't do couch dances anymore.”

  “Look. You have something of ours. We want it back.”

  Squirrel slid the visor up and looked at M'Elise. M’Elise shrugged. “Want what back?”

  “You know...”

  “Seriously. I don't know.”

  “I'm not going to say it on the open air waves.”

  “Too bad. So sad. Looks like we keep it then.”

  Incoherent swearing could be heard in the background before the mic was muted. Squirrel looked at M'Elise and giggled guiltily. “I guess I shouldn't bait them.”

  “Bait them all you want. From my point of view, we're even. We just have to work the situation 'till we've got the upper hand.”

  “Fabuloso. Just come about, we'll board, take what we're looking for, and leave you alone.”

  “What's to stop you blowing us up once you have what you want?”

  “OK. Pull over and lets us get what we want. We'll leave in a launch, and pull the ships out of weapon's range. Then we go our way and you go yours. Sounds fair?”

  “No. What's to stop you blowing us up as soon as we pull over?”

  “Because you've got the... item we want.”

  M'Elise held up a finger and Squirrel muted the line. “José. I know we're all zipping about in circles. But have we happened to have crossed the planetary gravity gradient?”

  José continued to steer with one hand and brought up a gradient chart with the other. “Yes. We are in flat system space.”

  “So we can transition as soon as we are out of the immediate proximity of those ship's gradients?”

  “Yes!”

  She grinned. “Let's blow this joint.”

  “They won't blow us up?” asked Squirrel.

  “Not with their precious notary stamp or whatever they think we have.”

  “Won't
they just jump us at the other end?”

  “Grenoble is a naval port. I don't think they will try anything there. And we just jump the next escorted convoy from there out and we're golden.”

  Squirrel turned the mic back on. “Hello? Nameless enemy? Are you still there?”

  “Yes. We are still here. Have you come to your senses yet?”

  “Indeed we have. Goodbye!” José broke off and started heading directly away from them.

  “What? Get back here or...”

  “Or what? Blow us up with your precious 'it'? Doofus.”

  There was a howl of rage that escaped getting cut off. The two ships surged after them. Even through they were faster, José was not trying to outrun them this time. Just their modest gravity gradient. A few turns and twists later the gradient display showed all clear and he activated the transitional drive. Space ceased to have any meaning as they shot away at right angles to reality.