How to Pick Up Women with a Drunk Space Ninja

by Jay Key

  “Well, that wasn’t fun.”

  Duke tried to lift himself up into the captain’s chair, while ignoring some very serious bruising.

  The emerald-clad swordsman slowly made his way back to the control panel. He looked around and touched different parts of the control panel tenderly, presumably checking on the welfare of the systems. Groggily, he extended his thumb, signaling that the unit was in working order, then he collapsed with a plop onto his chair stationed at the control panel.

  The Deus’ view screen was still functional. To Duke’s surprise, Prince Korzo-Tapor and his mega-ship were nowhere to be seen.

  “How in Nova Texas did we survive that? I’m not that lucky.”

  Ishiro’shea pointed to the far right side of the controls. A plastic dome-like hatch had been smashed, revealing a clownish red button.

  “What the hell is that?”

  Ishiro’shea shrugged.

  “I’ve spent the last fifteen cycles on this ship and I’ve never seen that thing. Giant buttons just don’t spring out of nowhere!”

  A look of realization overcame Ishiro’shea’s face.

  “You got something?”

  The ninja pointed to his right thigh. Part of his green shinobi shozoku was torn and shards of broken glass gracefully clung on to his hip.

  “That explains how the glass was broken. But where’d it come from? Do we have a manual or something?”

  Duke knew Ishiro was thinking something along the lines of “Are you serious?” But being a good sidekick—Salutatorian-worthy, in fact—he searched for the manual. He unlocked a drawer under some newly exposed circuitry from the attack and pulled out a dusty tome covered in filth and grime. Duke grabbed it and read aloud:

  “Owner’s Manual for the Deus Ex Machina: You Must Be in Pretty Deep, Volume I,” Duke began. “They aren’t wrong about that.”

  “‘Foreword.’ ‘Chapter One: Getting to Know Your Ship.’ ‘Chapter Two: Taking Off amidst Intergalactic War.’ Wow, they don’t waste any time.” He continued to scan the table of contents.

  “Got it! ‘Chapter Eleven: Buttons.’ ‘Section Three: Buttons Where There Weren’t No Buttons.’ Pages 283 through 284.”

  Duke thumbed to the pages in question.

  “‘You probably have noticed by now that the Deus Ex Machina has pulled you out of some real jams, huh? Well, that isn’t the half of it,’” Duke read. “‘The Deus Ex Machina is equipped to instantly birth survival tech when recognizing a situation in which there is no way to possibly escape. It’s quite convenient when you are backed into that proverbial corner with no hope for continuing your adventure. Some discerning thinkers call it a big “cop-out” but they can kiss our collective asses. Love, the builders of the Deus Ex Machina.’”

  The entire next page was an image of a furry creature clinging to a wire above a pit of ravenous serpents; a word bubble above the struggling fuzzball enclosed the phrase: “Persevere. It will all work out.” The two companions looked at each other. “I’m guessing that’s supposed to offer some encouragement. But is it encouragement for the little hairy guy clinging to the wire? Or those snakes anxiously awaiting their dinner?”

  Duke then noticed the small print below and continued, “P.S. Always push the big red button.”

  Sound advice.

  “Well, that explains it,” Duke rejoiced. “I guess, at the last moment, the ol’ girl became the proud mama of some new anti-Jungafallowian shielding. That explanation works for me. You good?”

  Ishiro’shea nodded hesitantly.

  “Remind me to thank the builders if we ever meet ‘em.”

  It’s best not to question mysterious red buttons that save your life, Duke concluded.

  “Okay, since we have that sorted out, we need to go bring those bastards to justice.”

  Ishiro pointed to the barely functioning control panel. The maroon light signifying their tracking device was blinking rapidly.

  “Ishiro’shea! You genius! You sent out a tracker as we were being blown into oblivion? That is why you were Salutatorian.”

  The emerald-clad ninja smiled under his mask for the second time. I guess a little recognition does go a long way.

  “There’s no way that they would even think to scan for trackers—they probably just assumed we were scrambling to get our shields up. Remind me to give you a raise. We can split the bounty, 70–30.”

  Ishiro’shea’s smile dissipated.

  “Ok, fine, 51–49. The usual. We have no time to lose; let’s see if we can make up ground pronto. Did the ship happen to evolve a better engine?”

  Ishiro shook his head.

  “Worth a try. Let’s go. I can’t wait to see the prince’s face—or is it princes’? I’m not really sure; I mean with the two heads but one body and all. Can you imagine that day in grammar school when you have to learn plural possessives? That could get ugly, real quick.”

  The bounty hunter seemed to snap back into his original thought.

  “I can’t wait to see him or them when we show up—two badass ghosts with vengeance on their mind. This is going to be epic, little buddy.”

  Ishiro set a course out of what should have been the site of major wreckage and their untimely deaths—but with some noticeable caution.

  He should be more excited. Oh wait, I guess we need a plan or something; we are still a bit of an underdog, militarily-speaking. Unplanned vengeance usually ends poorly.

  “Don’t worry, Ishiro, I have an idea,” Duke bluffed.

  The Deus Ex Machina halted suddenly.

  “Hey, what’s with the brakes?”

  Before the ninja could respond, though he wouldn’t have even if there was time, a light overwhelmed the bridge—brighter than the Jungafallowian attack, but a lot quieter. The bounty hunters covered their eyes involuntarily as the illumination permeated the ship. With his forearm draped over his eyes, Duke gingerly opened one eye to a squint.

  “Holy hedgehogs! Try to patch into the Queen... now.”

  Ishiro did as Duke requested.

  “Hello, thank you for calling Cyborg Joe’s Grill N’ Go & the Why Not Saloon, home of the MechaBurger 8000. I’m Earl; how may I be of assistance on this fine evening?”

  “Earl! This is Duke—put the Queen on the phone! Now!”

  “Mr. LaGrange, it is truly a pleasure to speak to you again—”

  “Earl! For the love of all that you hold dear, put the Queen on—I don’t have much time. It’s about her uninvited portal friend—and our recent opportunity.”

  “Mr. LaGrange, if I recall—the unknown astral entity disappeared earlier today and has not returned. I believe the Queen has terminated her previous offer based on these circumstances. I am truly sorry. Is there anything else that I can help you with?”

  “You hairy Glyptodian bastard! Tell the Queen that I’m looking right down its bright red gullet as we speak; not too far from the Keltian atmosphere. I think she might want to know.”

  “You do make a valid point, Mr. LaGrange. I will seek her out with unrivaled haste. Do you mind if I place you on hold briefly?”

  “Yes, I mind, Earl!”

  “Thank you.”

  “No, I said, I do mind—”

  The hold music interrupted and chimed away, a ringing annoyance that was meant to keep telemarketers at bay. The Queen’s assumption was that if the blood-sucking reprobates could withstand an hour or so of agonizing high-pitched musical aggravation, they earned a few minutes of her time.

  “Duke, Earl tells me that you have something to share with me. Proceed, by all means.”

  The Queen’s voice was a refreshing interlude to the hold music.

  “I wanted to revisit our proposed deal, Queen. It appears that your unknown portal buddy is back—and it doesn’t look happy to see us.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Interesting? So is it back on? Will you hold up your end of the bargain if we venture to the other side?”

  “Duke, I’m—”

 
A crimson tsunami of the most intense illumination hit the bridge of the Deus Ex Machina. Duke and the sure-footed Ishiro’shea hit the ground unceremoniously. The beams were more than simple light—and they rattled the ship to its core.

  “What was that, Queen? You broke up,” Duke shouted from the floor. “Yes or no? Do we have a deal?”

  The Queen responded but a barrage of noises—whizzes, whirls, and a few mini-explosions for good measure—overwhelmed her voice.

  Then everything went black.

  Chapter 7

  Boring Old Space

  THE HULL OF THE DEUS Ex Machina rumbled like the stomach of a ravenous yak, then mellowed to a slight murmur. Amber sparks danced about the control panel, intermingling with sporadic puffs of willowy smoke emitting from the mangled metal and pulverized plastic. The cabin’s lighting system flickered as the onboard emergency systems tried to put out fires that had risen up in various locations on the ship’s bridge. Alarms sounded as the craft tried to self-diagnose a catalog of ills all at the same time. Many things were happening inside the Deus Ex Machina, but Duke LaGrange was even more curious as to what was happening outside.

  “Any chance of getting the view screen up?” Duke said solemnly as he stepped over what appeared to be a piece of the main panel. “I want to have some idea of where this son of a bitch dropped us off.”

  Ishiro’shea sat Zen-like amidst flashes and smoldering electronics. He clearly was more prepared to handle portal travel—especially one that had an unknown destination.

  “Diagnosis?”

  Ishiro’shea popped up with the same display of energy that he had showcased during his jam session with the Trampling Death Robots. With a single downward motion, he struck the impaired main panel with a forceful shuto-uchi. The view screen fizzled—and then resumed its bright, shiny high-definition glory.

  “Thank you. That’s a new one.”

  Ishiro bowed.

  “Holy hedgehogs, there’s nothing out there. Looks like our favorite portal is gone too—so I guess that’s a win. I was half expecting to be dropped into an intergalactic shootout or the stomach of some moon-sized cosmic zebra. We are just in… boring old space. Seems like a lot of trouble to gobble us up and spit us out in the celestial boondocks. Something doesn’t make sense. Or maybe there was a glitch in the portal. I mean, there wasn’t even an in-flight film. Portal travel isn’t what it used to be.”

  Ishiro’s expression led Duke to believe that he shared the same uneasiness about how anticlimactic the whole situation had been.

  “Any chance we get the auto-nav back up? Another one of your karate chops?”

  The stout ninja pointed aggressively at the tattered remains of a helm. He shook his head with noticeable pessimism.

  “That bad, huh?”

  Ishiro then began to repeatedly jab his finger in the air—pointing to the view screen.

  Duke cringed.

  “You want me to fly this manually? It’s been more cycles than I care to recall since I actually had to drive.”

  The ninja did not yield; he continued to point.

  Damnit.

  Ishiro sat down and started to clear away as much debris as possible from the control station. Most of the fires were out by now. Duke knew Ishiro was more than capable at the helm of the Deus; however, Duke also knew that he was better. Even rusty, he was better.

  “Fine. Let’s see if we can figure out where we are—and if we can get back. Maybe the Queen will give us something for reporting that the portal leads to absolutely nowhere of consequence. You know, she could sell access on the black market—I’m sure someone would pay to send his enemy to an exile complete with a horrific death by boredom. And now that death by boredom has been officially outlawed in most sectors, it should fetch a pretty penny.”

  Duke sat down at the helm. This has been a long time. He wiped away a bit more of the accumulated debris and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. The ninja swiftly positioned himself in the vacant seat beside him.

  “Well, crap.” Duke shrugged. “Should we go left or right?”

  Ishiro’shea pointed directly ahead.

  “Straight it is, partner, straight it is.”

  The ship rattled and flexed its inflexible bits as it made its way into manual drive for the first time in many cycles. It jerked ferociously.

  “Whoa, simmer down now. Easy does it.”

  Duke noticed his loyal companion appeared uncomfortable.

  “Hey now, Ishiro. This was your idea, remember? I got it under control. Just like breakin’ in a new horse,” Duke said with a slightly exaggerated accent. “Easy, easy.” He had never broken in a horse.

  The Deus Ex Machina steadied and gradually accelerated into open space.

  “Any chance we can get the other systems back up and running, Ishiro? I don’t mind driving the girl but it would be nice to get some comm, in case we actually encounter something out here. We might want to strike up a conversation, after all.”

  The ninja went to work on the panel, seeming somewhat optimistic. Duke smiled.

  “Seriously, there is nothing out here. I don’t recognize the star patterns at all. They’re entirely different than any that we’ve encountered—in any dimension. Maybe the ship will think this is one of those ‘backed into a corner’ moments and spontaneously produce a star map for us.”

  Ishiro ignored Duke’s far-fetched hope.

  “A boy can dream, right?”

  The Deus Ex Machina pushed on. The star patterns became no more recognizable to the displaced bounty hunter.

  “Cheers!”

  Ishiro’shea grabbed the beer and inhaled it. Duke cranked back his head and poured the sweet nectar of Glyptodia down his throat. He repeated this a few more times.

  “Don’t worry. I drive better after a few drinks.”

  Ishiro responded with a thumbs-up, then slugged another Erontian brew. And then another. And another. He then proceeded to the alcohol storage and dissemination unit. He reached down and pulled out a bottle of ancient Earth saké, regarded as possessing slightly higher quality than its Erontian cousin, and fetching a higher price.

  “Buddy! Hey now! That’s the bottle we, uh, relieved from that archeological pirate that we busted. Are you sure this is the special occasion to make you want to open it? You know what? To hell with it! From aimlessly piloting our ship in unknown and uncharted space to finding a probably dead-end planet that we’ll spend our dying days on, it sounds like a special occasion to me. I’ve definitely never done it before. Cheers, hombre!”

  The ninja removed his katana and swung it down upon the bottle with a silent precision. The glass did not shatter but the top inch of the bottle fell on the bar counter—introducing a rich aroma of fermented rice to the atmosphere of the bridge.

  “Well done.”

  Ishiro’shea pulled his mask down to under his chin, hoisted the bottle skyward, and rotated the exposed bottleneck towards his open mouth. The liquid sparkled as it left the bottle and flowed ceaselessly into Ishiro’s throat. Duke nearly choked on his beer.

  “C’mon man! Don’t hog the juice. Save some for me.”

  Duke shot out of his chair and stumbled towards his partner. The ship jolted abruptly. Duke lost his balance and hit the floor. Ishiro started to laugh, but the Deus kangarooed again and he fell on his posterior—without spilling a single drop of saké, however.

  “Holy hedgehogs, I forgot—I’m driving this thing, right?”

  Ishiro responded with a lazier thumbs-up.

  “But I really want some of that saké. Choices, choices.”

  The ninja shook his head and pointed toward the helm.

  “Oh, you think I should get back to driving, huh?”

  The ninja repeated his headshake-and-point routine.

  “Ishiro, c’mon, man, buddy, pal. I just want one shot before it’s gone. We’re best friends; why are you being such a bastard?”

  Ishiro stood woozily and extended the bottle to his longtime companion.
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  “Thanks, little buddy. Cheers to us and finding our way. Our way somewhere.”

  Duke held the bottle aloft but was swiftly robbed of his balance due to the ship tipping again. The saké bottle crashed to the floor and shattered.

  “No! The saké —”

  Duke fell to his knees and tried to lap up the remaining liquid pooled on the ground. It was not his most shining moment. The ship violently rolled to starboard. Duke was thrown from the floor into the wall.

  “Eyes off the prize, Duke,” he said to himself. “Getting back to the controls.”

  Ishiro appeared a bit more focused and found his way back to the panel before Duke.

  “Ok, let’s wrangle this gal in.”

  The Deus rocked and rolled, herked and jerked, and did some stuff that would make a roller coaster vomit.

  “I got it, I got it. Steady... steady.”

  The ship stabilized.

  “How was the saké, jerk?”

  Ishiro smirked.

  “Look out the view screen! How long were we drinking?”

  Duke aimed the newly-steadied ship at the planet—now much larger in the view screen—with a gradual, almost calming, acceleration.

  “Get a load of that. It appears to be almost all water except for those two landmasses. They’re connected. Looks like a giant upright dumbbell. I know we can’t scan for life or tech or anything worthwhile—but maybe we can get a bit closer to see if we can identify a city or something.”

  The silent ninja nodded in agreement.

  The Deus crept closer to the planetary body.

  “I really hope it’s not a planet of primitives. I can’t stand primitives. Terrible conversation and nine out of ten haven’t mastered brewing yet. And the women are so shaggy.”

  The hull rattled.

  “Brace for some turbulence. Entering a stronger portion of the planet’s gravitational pull.”

  Ishiro buckled his seat belt.

  “What the—? Since when did we get seat belts? Where’s mine?”