The Counterfeit Captain

by Henry Vogel

  I saw Sko working himself up to defend me. “Don’t worry, Sko, I can take care of myself.”

  The Louie, still only half awake, struggled to figure out what was going on and failed miserably. He smiled at me. “I don’t believe I know you, young woman. I am Arren, the village Louie.”

  I drew my blaster. “I’m pleased to meet you, Arren. I am Captain Nancy Martin.” The Louie gasped, his eyes finally opening fully, as I brandished my gun, “Tell your admin to cease this nonsense or I’ll shoot.”

  The Admin laughed harshly and pulled an ancient laser pistol from his holster. “Your silly forgery looks nothing like an Admin’s badge of office, false Captain. Mine is quite real, handed down from father to son for generations.”

  The Admin held his ‘badge of office’ by the barrel, as if he planned to club me with it. Did he not even realize he held a weapon? No, of course he didn’t know. Any charge held by the laser’s power pack leaked away centuries ago. I decided it was past time to educate the Admin.

  Flipping the blaster from the kill setting to stun, I shot one of the advancing men. The crack of the blaster was all the louder for the close confines of the church. As the man crumpled to the ground, everyone but Sko backed away from me.

  Pointing the blaster at the Admin, I said, “This is the Captain’s sidearm, not some lowly Admin’s badge of office. Quite frankly, I am tired of listening to an Admin instructing the Captain on how to run the ship. Do I make myself clear?”

  The Admin’s head bobbed up and down rapidly, his eyes darting from the barrel of my blaster to his man on the ground.

  “Your man is not dead, Admin. The Captain only kills when it is necessary. Don’t make it necessary.” Wiping the anger from my face, I turned my most pleasant smile on the Louie. “I am sorry you have been roused from your nap so rudely and further apologize for resorting to violence within your sanctuary.”

  The Louie stared at me in awe. “The Captain apologizes to me when it is I who should beg her forgiveness?”

  What on earth—a phrase I realized must be scrubbed from my vocabulary while I was on board this ship—did the Louie mean by that? All he’d done was answer a question from the Admin. In a normal situation, I’d simply have asked what the Louie was talking about. But wouldn’t an all-powerful Captain know what he meant? Then the solution occurred to me.

  “Of course you are forgiven, Arren. But I’m afraid the Admin appears confused by your request. Would you be so kind as to explain it to him?”

  “By Your command,” the Louie said. “Admin, in my half-awake state I did not answer your question fully or properly. You asked after the punishment for questioning the Captain. There is no punishment for simply asking questions of the Captain. A sentence of death only applies in special circumstances.” The Louie concentrated, as if reaching into his memory. “Shipboard Regulations, Article 2, Section 1, Emergency Procedures. Questioning or disobeying the Captain’s lawful orders is punishable by death.”

  “I don’t see the difference between what you said, Louie, and what I asked,” the Admin growled.

  “Do you really not see it or are you being willfully stupid?” I snapped. “Sko asked me a simple question. There was no emergency at the time nor had I given him an order.” I turned my glare on again. “Let this matter drop, Admin. And that is an order.”

  The Admin blanched, nodded his head, and said, “By Your command, Captain.”

  As I turned to leave, I saw Sko struggling to contain a question. “Do you have something to say, Sko?”

  “I have only the Louie’s lessons as guidance, Captain, never having witnessed a mutiny before, but do the Admin’s actions not qualify as mutinous?”

  What blood was left in the Admin’s face drained out at Sko’s question and the Admin rapidly shook his head back and forth. The Louie scratched his chin and looked thoughtful. The Admin’s men carefully stepped away from their boss, one of them obviously preparing an ‘I was only following orders’ line of defense.

  Being put on the theological spot was the last thing I wanted to have happen right now—or in the future, for that matter—but Sko didn’t know that. If the capital-R Regulations resembled a traditional ship’s regulations, I could guess their contents well enough. But there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I would match their exact wording. I already knew the Admin would grasp at anything which might swing the balance of power back in his favor, but how much of a stickler for exact wording was the Louie?

  Then my religious upbringing came to my aid and showed me the way forward. “Let he who has never committed mutiny in thought or deed stab the Admin first.”

  Sko dropped my gaze and reddened, though in embarrassment rather than anger. “Forgive my impertinence, Captain.”

  I put a comforting hand on his arm. “I know you are looking out for my welfare, Sko, and I appreciate it. There is nothing to forgive.”

  The Admin’s face had regained much of its color when he bowed. “I, on the other hand, am very much in need of forgiveness, Captain. I beg you to do so.”

  I didn’t buy the Admin’s act for a minute, but I had far more important things to do than slap down a village headman. Besides, the man was absolutely right about me. I may be a captain, but I’m not their Captain.

  “I am willing to forgive you, Admin, but you must change your ways if you wish to avoid judgement in the future.”

  “I will do anything you order, Captain.”

  “Then I order you to treat the people in this village the same way a loving father treats his children. Where possible, guide the villagers with advice rather than directing them with orders. Punish them only for true transgressions and only after consultation with the Louie. And no more shoving and hitting people who happen to be standing in your path. Walk around them or politely ask them to move.” I looked in turn at the Admin’s three conscious men. “Those orders apply to each of you, also. Make sure to tell your friend on the floor when he wakes up.”

  “By Your command,” all four of the men intoned.

  That’s when screams erupted from outside the church.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Cull

  Mixed in with the screams, I heard cries of warning. “Hide your children! Servants are here for the cull!”

  The Louie automatically dropped to his knees, closed his eyes, and prayed, “Dear Captain, hear my prayer!”

  “I hear you loud and clear, Louie,” I barked, wondering what a ‘servant’ was and who servants served. Flipping my blaster from stun back to kill, I turned to Sko. “Have you figured out how to use a blaster from watching me?”

  Sko drew one of the blasters we took from the Fringers. “I believe so, Captain.”

  Holding mine up for him to see, I said, “Set the switch to match mine and don’t shoot at a servant if a villager is anywhere close. You don’t want to kill your own people.” Heading for the door, I called over my shoulder, “Louie, get as many people in here as you can. We’ll make sure these servants don’t get in.”

  “By Your command, Captain. It shall-”

  Then Sko and I were out the door and unable to hear anything else the Louie said because of the screaming and shouting. I grabbed the sleeve of a man as he ran past. “Get as many people into the sanctuary as you can. We’ll protect you.”

  The man tried to pull away, so I swung around in front of him and went all drill sergeant on him. “Your Captain orders you to direct people into the sanctuary.”

  The shout got through his panic and his eyes finally focused on me. “By Your command, Captain!”

  I clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

  Then Sko and I charged into the crowd, fighting our way against the flow of people. The going was hard as terrified villagers, children clutched to their breasts or held firmly by the hand, barreled into us.

  “Sko, can you clear a path for us?”

  “I’ll try, my Captain.” Lifting the blaster over his head, Sko fired two shots straight up. The unusual an
d unrecognized crack of the blaster quieted the crowd somewhat, allowing them to hear Sko’s shout. “Make way for the Captain. She’s going to battle the servants!”

  All around us, people stopped running and craned their necks to watch their Captain charge into battle. At least the people directly ahead of us pulled back, opening a path toward screams farther away.

  Dashing through the crowd, I shouted, “Go to the Louie. Stay in the sanctuary until I tell you it’s safe to come out.”

  The crowd didn’t budge and some of them even fell in behind me to come watch their Captain fight the servants. Before I could turn my statement into an order, the voice of the man I’d pulled from the crowd rose behind us.

  “Follow the Captain’s orders. Come on, everyone inside with the Louie. Let’s go!”

  Around us, the villagers reluctantly turned and made their way to the sanctuary while also leaving a clear path for Sko and me. Seconds later, we sprinted clear of the packed crowd and a strange and horrific sight met my eyes.

  Half a dozen robots rolled about on treads. The robots towered a full meter above the tallest villager. Three of the robots trundled away from the village, each of them clutching a young child in articulated claws. The heads of the other three robots swiveled about as if scanning the villagers.

  One robot’s attention focused on a little girl no older than my niece. Claws snapping, the robot rolled toward the child. Terrified and wailing for her mother, the girl stood rooted in place. An anguished scream rose from my left. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a young woman clutching an infant and struggling to go to the girl. Two other women, their faces stained with tears, held her back. I found out why as a middle-aged man blocked the robot’s path to the girl and jabbed it ineffectually with a spear. A mechanical arm swung, swatting the man aside with ease.

  Just before the robot grabbed the girl, Sko grabbed her away with one hand and pointed his blaster with the other. He pulled the trigger and kept pulling it until the light faded from the robot’s scanner and the machine ground to a halt.

  With the girl safe, I stopped and took careful aim at one of the two robots still scanning for children. I snapped off two shots and blew the robot’s head off. The other robot, sensing a threat, rolled toward me, its claws outstretched. I adjusted my aim and took three shots, blasting a hole through the machine’s chest.

  I broke into a sprint after the three robots heading for the edge of the village. Sko came alongside me, not even breathing hard. It makes sense that a hunter in a muscle-powered culture is strong and has great endurance, but couldn’t the man at least pretend to be even slightly winded?

  “The servants are much faster in open terrain, Captain. If we don’t catch them soon, we may lose them.”

  “Then don’t wait for me, Sko. Stop the one in front, I’ll get the one in back, then we can both take the one in the middle.”

  “By Your command.” Without apparent effort, Sko kicked into a higher gear and just left me in his wake.

  Combat always awakens some primitive, animal part of my brain. It made sure I noticed just how good Sko looked from behind before it turned its attention to the closest robot. I might not be in Sko’s speed class, but I gained rapidly on the robot. It held a boy no older than seven who cried and struggled uselessly in the robot’s claws.

  Much as I wanted to stop and shoot, I couldn’t risk hitting the boy. Instead, I put on a brief burst of speed and came up behind the robot. The machine swiveled on its treads, swinging a free arm at me. I ducked under the arm, catching hold of it with my left hand as it passed over my head.

  Pulling myself up next to the wide-eyed boy, I smiled and said, “Watch this.” I placed my blaster right against the robot’s neck joint and fired twice. The head tumbled from the robot’s body and the machine ground to a halt. I had just enough time to drop to the ground before the claws opened and released the boy. I caught him and swung him to the ground.

  Even as I held the sobbing child against my leg, I looked toward the other two robots. They both stood motionless in the near distance. Sko clutched a crying child in each arm, whispering comfort to them as he walked back to me. And Sko still wasn’t breathing hard.

  “Show off,” I muttered.

  “I’m sorry, Captain, I didn’t hear what you said.”

  “That was well done, Sko. These people are lucky to have you.” Together we turned back toward the center of the village. “As am I.”

  And then we had no more chance to talk as the whole village, led by three overjoyed sets of parents, surrounded us.

  Every parent in the village, starting with those whose children Sko and I rescued, thanked us for stopping the servants. I smiled and accepted their thanks and smiled some more. Slowly, my smile morphed into bared and gritted teeth as people continued to crowd around us. Sko, on the other hand, enjoyed the attention—perhaps because he kept deflecting all thanks due to him and redirecting it to me.

  “You should thank the Captain for your child’s safe return, Lessa, not me,” he told the mother of the first little girl he’d saved. “I simply followed her lead.”

  A minute later, he told a boy’s father, “Without this wondrous weapon provided by the Captain, I’d have been as helpless as the rest of you. Thank her, Ren.”

  Finally, the Louie stepped between me and the villagers. “My friends, please back away and give the Captain room to breathe.” Arms raised, the Louie made shooing motions with his hands and, to my considerable relief, the people backed away.

  Then the Louie pointed at the nearest motionless robot. “I trust this settles the question of the Captain’s authenticity to everyone’s satisfaction?”

  The villagers cheered, all eyes turned upon me. That meant no one but me saw the sour expression the Admin directed at me. The second he noticed my eyes upon him, the Admin assumed a bland smile and made a big show of joining in the cheering.

  I raised my hands, calling for silence. The cheering died slowly, giving me time to compose my words before speaking.

  “These ‘servants’ did not come before the mutiny. Do they serve the mutineers?”

  Dozens of voices called out, “Yes, Captain.”

  I nodded, having gotten the answer I expected. “But what of the cull? What are the servants culling for?”

  This time, the many called responses were too detailed and, as the people talked over one another, were all but unintelligible. Again, I raised my hands for silence. “I cannot understand when you all speak at once. Please let the Louie answer the question.”

  The Louie inclined his head. “It is the Crew cull, Captain. We believe it is how the mutineers maintain Crew—originally replacing those slaughtered in the mutiny and now replacing those who grow too old to serve their evil needs.”

  As explanations go, the one the Louie gave struck me as having been built around a kernel of truth. Certainly someone reprogrammed the robots to raid the villages and carry off children. It could have been an officer who survived the mutiny or one of the mutineers. Either possibility made some sense as time would eventually force this unknown, long-dead person to resort to desperate means to keep the ship crewed.

  Perhaps historians or anthropologists will discover the truth someday. That possibility lay far beyond my current needs and plans. The robots, on the other hand, might be just what I needed.

  “Do you know where the, um, servants take the children?”

  The Louie spread his arms. “Alas, we do not, Captain.”

  “Can’t you track them?” I pointed to the tracks churned up by the heavy robots’ treads.

  The Louie straightened in indignation. “Of course we can track them, Captain. We do so every time the servants arrive for the cull. And every time the tracks lead to a pile of rocks and simply vanish.”

  Comprehension dawned on Sko. “Perhaps there is a lighted room within the rocks, just like the one the mutineers came from.”

  The Admin’s eyebrows drew down and his voice, when he spoke, held suppr
essed anger. “You sighted mutineers near the village and failed to warn us, Sko?”

  “No, Admin, you refused to listen to anything I said, so intent were you to undermine the Captain.”

  Finally having a target who didn’t outrank him, the Admin released his anger. “Do not take that tone of voice with me, hunter. It is your fault I did not possess all the facts before making my accusations. If you had but told your story in the proper order, all would have been clear to me. If-”

  I stepped in front of Sko, drawing the Admin’s attention to me. “Shut up, Admin. You are as pathetic an excuse for a leader as I have ever seen! A true leader gathers all of the facts before casting accusations. A true leader accepts responsibility for his own actions rather than blaming those he refused to listen to in the first place.” I jabbed a finger into the Admin’s chest. “In other words, you are not a true leader.”

  The Admin backed away from me, still fuming but unwilling to try taking his anger out on me. I’d hoped to leave the village status quo alone, but I finally realized the danger the Admin posed to my goals. Raising my voice so all could hear me, I said, “As Captain, I order the Admin stripped of his title and position in this village.”

  The blood drained from the now former Admin’s face at the cheer which greeted my pronouncement. His eyes narrowed in what I can only call a look of desperate cunning. I sighed, realizing I couldn’t leave this man free among the villagers. Perhaps they’d ignore him, but men like him always seem to find the leverage they need to achieve their ends.

  I held my hands up again and the crowd quieted. “Furthermore, I hereby banish this man from the village. None among you may have anything to do with him, on pain of joining him in exile.” I pointed to the nearest edge of the village and glared at the former Admin. “Give me your badge of office then leave. Right now.”

  The man stood, rooted in place, his hands fluttering as he begged, “Have mercy, Captain! Please, I beg of you-”

  Sko drew his blaster and pointed it at the man’s head. “The Captain gave you an order, Tarl. You remember what the punishment is for disobeying an order, don’t you?”