Theodyssey 1. Privateer

by I K Dirac

  “So what would magnanimity mean in this case, Captain?”

  “Well, darling, I’ve been giving it some thought too. You have been indulging in, how shall I put it, somewhat unusual culinary practices. Now I quite understand your reasons. We won’t say a word about it, of course, but you know how these things can get out. Tongues do tend to wag and the Galaxy is always agog for gossip. These things can be taken the wrong way once word gets out. Some might think it not the expected behaviour of a member of the nobility. Quite unjustified of course, but there it is. And that, of course, would reflect badly on me. As a Queen regnant, who bestowed your honour, I have a franchise to protect. I might wish to offer a peerage to another distinguished personage and they might decline because they had no wish to be associated with what they hear was the questionable behaviour of another member of the nobility. Under those circumstances, I might have no option but to revoke your title. Neither of us wants that, of course, so I suggest we need to put the tightest possible lid on things. No word must get out about these unfortunate events and we need to make sure that nothing could be used to associate you with them. As your Liege Lord, to whom you pledged allegiance at your ennobling ceremony, I think the best course of action would be for you to hand the two miscreants over to us. You can rest assured that no one will ever hear from them again. Always best to avoid the need for explanations. We can use techniques on them that someone in your exalted position might find difficult and, if we do find out something, we will let you know straight away.”

  The Admiral gave the suggestion some more of his thought. He seemed to remember that de la Beche had said that the pledge of allegiance was a mere historical trifle that no one bothered with. He, as Lord High Admiral, was not prepared to bow to anyone. On the other hand, he could not meekly contemplate the loss of a title that had so magnified his opinion of himself – to say nothing of his libido. Orsonian high society was riven with envy over his elevation, while wives, now ladies, and mistresses had been particularly fulsome in expressing their gratitude for their new status. He doubted that much would be gained from the interrogation of a couple of clearly deranged individuals and, besides, the Orsonians had no shortage of enemies. Any of them could have been responsible and he would decide which when it suited him.

  “I’m inclined to agree with your proposal, Captain. I wish neither to see nor hear of these two again. Feel free to do anything that ensures that end. I would also be most interested to find out who put them up to it and why.”

  ***

  The two survivors were brought on board the Bountiful comatose, the Reverend Dreeble in a wheelchair, swaddled in a straightjacket, and Schickelgrosser in a yellow jump-suit, strapped on a gurney. They were quickly transferred to the medical suite and the Bountiful cast off and headed for a part of the Galaxy far away from prying eyes.

  Freed from their shackles, the two were laid out on beds. De la Beche and Mister Betelgeuse watched as Jim handed a small tubular instrument to Dr Culpepper. He pointed it at the Reverend Dreeble, who began to stir. Then as his eyes opened, a startled look came over his face and he sat bolt upright.

  “Woe to the nations that rise up against my kindred! The Lord Almighty will take vengeance on them on the day of judgement, in putting fire and worms in their flesh; and they shall feel them, and weep for ever.”

  Dr Culpper fiddled with the instrument.

  “Might have turned the revive level up a bit high, old boy. Let’s try again.”

  The Reverend flopped back, not stirring.

  “Overdone it the other way. Bit tricky these things sometimes. This should be it, I hope.”

  Dreeble rose and stood on the bed, his arms outright, a fierce look on his face.

  “For thus hath the Lord spoken unto me. Like as the lion and the young lion roaring on his prey, when a multitude of shepherds is called forth against Him, He will not be afraid of their voice, nor abase Himself for the noise of them: so shall the Lord of Hosts come down to fight for Mount Zion, and for the hill thereof.”

  He remained standing, the fierce look still on his face. De la Beche turned to the Doctor. “I’m beginning to see what the Admiral was talking about. Perhaps you could just turn him down again, darling.”

  The Doctor fiddled again, grimacing.

  “That should be down to zero, I think.”

  He pointed it and the Reverend collapsed on the bed. Mister Betelgeuse stared at the prostrate body.

  “I believe he is not breathing, Doctor.”

  Culpepper examined the prone pastor, tutted, then poured himself a large whisky and swigged it down in a single gulp.

  “Just needs the teeniest little bit of adjustment. There, breathing like a good ’un.”

  De la Beche’s attention turned to Schickelgrosser.

  “Do you think you could wake him up without him threatening to shoot everyone on sight, darling?”

  Culpepper looked a little sheepish.

  “Haven’t used this thing for a while, old boy. Bit tricky sometimes. Think I’ve got the hang or it now.”

  He waved it at Schickelgrosser, whose eyes began to open. The Major looked round the room, at first seeming puzzled and then energized. He leapt from the bed and stood upright.

  “Attention, men! No time to lose. We have our mission to accomplish. Where’s the rest of the company?” He pointed to Jim. “You, soldier, tell them to assemble here pronto.”

  He stared at the company, who stared back.

  “Would you like me to turn him down a notch or two, old boy?” asked Culpepper.

  “I don’t think so, darling. I doubt if he goes much lower that what we see now. Let’s see if we can get through to him.” He turned to Schickelgrosser, whose face was beginning to show a puzzled look again. “Major, I think we need to have a little chat with you.”

  Schickelgrosser’s expression changed again.

  “I got no time for chat. We’ve got work to do.” He looked at Jim again. “Where are the men? I thought I told you to get them here, soldier.”

  “The men aren’t here, darling. You’re back on the Bountiful. The mission is over.”

  The Major stared, evidently becoming more puzzled. Then Culpepper spoke.

  “Oops, apologies. I forgot to switch full memory retrieval on. I did say I hadn’t used this thing for a while.”

  He waved the instrument again at Schickelgrosser, who staggered back to sit on the bed with his head in his hands and began to sob.

  “We got taken. We got taken. I didn’t tell them nothing. I didn’t tell them nothing.”

  “I think we know that, darling. If you had, none of us would be here. Would you mind pulling yourself together and telling us what happened.”

  Schickelgrosser took his head out of his hands, sniffed a few times and straightened his back.

  “When we got there everything was on schedule. There was a funny smell in the container though. Sent Reverend Dreeble into one of his hissy fits, but I couldn’t find out what it was. I gave the signal. We were all supposed to come out together and take them. Should have been a cakewalk. Only when I opened the hatch, they were waiting for us and there was no sign of my men. What happened to them? Are they still there?”

  “I’ll come to them in a minute. So what happened next?”

  “We were trussed up like chickens and then I was hauled off and they started asking me all sorts of questions. They knocked me around a bit and stuck things in me as well, but it was nothing I couldn’t take. I didn’t tell them nothing.”

  “As you’ve said. We do believe you. Now what about the Kwokkah. Any idea of where it might be?”

  Schickelgrosser's expression turned suspicious.

  “How’d you know about that?”

  “Oh come now, darling. Surely you haven't forgotten the point of the mission.”

  Schickelgrosser shook his head as if trying to clear it and stared back at de la Beche.

  “Well it’s not on their space station that’s for sure.”


  “How do you know?”

  “When I was being interrogated they knocked me about a bit, so I pretended to be out cold. There was a few of them there and then someone else came in and they were all scraping and bowing to him and calling him Admiral.”

  “The Lord High Admiral?”

  “That’s him. He had them laughing about how they’d pulled the wool over the eyes of the Nullarboreans. Seems they hadn’t got the Kwokkah, but they did know where it was. They said it was somewhere where the Nullarboreans could never get it.”

  De la Beche and Culpepper looked at each other. The Captain sank back in a chair and sighed.

  “I think you had better pour me a very stiff tot of your finest elixir, Doctor.”

  Schickelgrosser looked at them impatiently.

  “You still haven’t told me what happened to my men.”

  “I think you had better have a large tot of the Doctor’s elixir too, darling.”

  32

  Splenditheran looked utterly disbelieving. He sat across his boardroom table from de la Beche, Mister Betelgeuse and Jim. Behind him was an enormous, rather lurid triptych, depicting the fall of the Titans and the triumph of Zeus.

  “Are you really trying to tell me, Captain, that the Orsonians ate the Astromicans?”

  “I’m rather afraid that I am, darling. That’s what the Lord High Admiral told me and I don’t think he was joking. Not the joking sort, really.”

  For several seconds he clearly had difficulty in finding anything to say. Jim’s pencil hand stayed poised over paper, ready to take down his reply. Mister Betelgeuse looked on inscrutably.

  “That is absolutely outrageous. Has he no sense of decorum? Does he think he can flout all recognized conventions? The creature is a blackguard, a monster, a barbarian, a deepest-dyed villain.”

  De la Beche nodded sympathetically.

  “I agree with you, of course, but then again, you did try to pull a rather sneaky trick on him. And look at it from his point of view. His men were expecting a delivery of their favourite meat and, well, he didn’t like to disappoint them.”

  Splenditheran was not appeased. Instead he appeared to be even more vexed.

  “This is disastrous. I expect you know, Captain, that hiring Astromicans is an expensive business. We had to put a very large deposit down on that Company, which is entirely forfeited if less than half of them return. My Secretary of Finance will be apoplectic.”

  “I imagine he will, darling, but we did manage to rescue a couple of them: the Major and the Reverend. Maybe you could get a little discount for them?”

  Splenditheran did not bother to conceal his exasperation.

  “I think not, Captain. Meanwhile we have the problem of the Kwokkah. I take it we are no nearer to finding it?”

  “Not as such, although the Major did say he overheard the Lord High Admiral say that they did not have it but they knew where it was.”

  At the news, Splenditheran’s demeanour improved visibly.

  “That sounds promising, Captain. Did you find out where?”

  “Not as such, again, but we have our sources. We intend to find out.”

  Splenditheran shook his head.

  “While I appreciate all your efforts, you did not succeed in recovering the Kwokkah, so I am afraid we will have to terminate our contract.”

  De la Beche shrugged and gave a little smile.

  “It’s up to you of course, darling, but I do think you are being a little hasty. You said yourself that there could be all sorts of ructions if the Kwokkah was not returned to its rightful owners, so I would have thought it would be worth at least one more try. You wouldn’t want to be thought of as the one who lost your entire Federation because a few stones were left unturned.”

  Splenditheran frowned.

  “Are you trying to blackmail me Captain?”

  “Not at all, merely pointing out that it is in our mutual interest that we turn all those stones while we still can.”

  “So what do you propose?”

  “Well, as I said, there are some of our acquaintances who might be able to point us in the right direction. I suggest we contact them and see where that leads.”

  Splenditheran sighed.

  “Very well then. I will suspend termination for the moment - but I expect results.”

  “Of course, darling, There’s just one little thing to settle before we can start.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A little subvention. As you must realize, we are well out of pocket on the work we have done for you already. It was hard work, I don’t mind telling you, to persuade the Lord High Admiral to keep his little banquet strictly entre nous. I don’t think it would do your reputation any good if news of it were to leak out that your mercenaries had met such an unfortunate fate. No fault of yours, of course, but mud tends to stick. Everything costs these days, so we will need a little up front before we can do anything more.”

  Splenditheran did not bother to hide his exasperation.

  “Captain, you well know that this contract is strictly payment by results. No Kwokkah, no pay. That is it.”

  “Strictly speaking you are right, darling, but look at it from my point of view. I have bills to pay, overheads to meet. You must know how it is. Overheads will be the death of me. We cannot move unless we pay off a few of our creditors. Ravening beasts, all of them. I’m not asking for much. Let’s say fifty thousand.”

  Splenditheran shook his head as if in disbelief at de la Beche's presumption, but finally decided to relent.

  “Twenty is my final offer.”

  “Call it thirty and we’ll be on our way.”

  Splenditheran pondered for a few moments and then nodded.

  “Thirty thousand it is, but I want to make it clear, Captain, that there will be no further payments unless you succeed.

  33

  Junipa's initial shock quickly turned to laughter when she was told what had happened to the Astromicans. Even Orestia could not suppress a smile. Junipa's shoulders shook.

  “Eaten? I can't believe it, but don't tell me it isn't true! Maybe there is a god.”

  Orestia gave her a quick stern look, but the smile returned.

  “Even better, the Kwokkah thing was never there.”

  Junipa almost collapsed laughing. Finally she managed to ask: “Do we know where it is?”

  “We do. From the horse's mouth – or as good as. You've heard, of course, of that dreadful buffoon the Orsonian High Admiral, the one with all the wives and concubines, or mistresses as he now calls them. Well one of our members has been appointed chief mistress – or maitresse en titre, whatever that might mean. He is absolutely infatuated with her.” Orestia shuddered inwardly as she contemplated the appalling exercises in hydraulics that some unfortunate females were forced to endure. “Copulation and climax make him incapable of keeping any secret from her.” She shuddered once more at the very thought. “He tells her everything. It turns out that the Orsonians never had the thing, but they had found out where it was. Guess where?”

  Junipa tried to think of somewhere but nothing occurred to her.

  “No idea.”

  “Utrophia.”

  Junipa was so surprised she could only repeat the word.

  “Utrophia?”

  This time it was Orestia's turn to be surprised.

  “You haven't heard of it?”

  “Yes, of course I have. It is every religion’s heaven. It’s Elysium, Valhalla, Paradise, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, the Big Rock Candy Mountain. In other words it's a myth. It does not exist.”

  Orestia shook her head.

  “On the contrary, unfortunately, it does exist. For reasons known only to themselves, almost all religions of the Galaxy have declared Utrophia to be a sacred planet. It's stuffed with high priests and caliphs and popes and panjandrums of all sorts, all pronouncing one another anathema. It's more hell than heaven.”

  “How typically male. Don't the Nullarboreans have someone there who c
an tell them where the Kwokkah is?”

  “I doubt it. They're a religious minority. They're not usually allowed there.”

  “What about the Southern Cross lot?”

  “Who knows? They have this weird creed of The Supreme Ineffability. Who or what it is I have no idea. The Orsonians would have someone there though.”

  “So they know where it is?”

  “Apparently not. According to our source it seems to be in the possession of some mysterious figure, or possibly an organization. She couldn't find out more.”

  Junipa's smile returned.

  “Sounds just the place for this Kwokkah, whatever it's supposed to be. I guess de la Beche will never find it now.”

  Orestia gave a little chuckle.

  “Not unless we tell him.”

  Junipa almost gasped.

  “Why in the name of Penthiliope would you do that?”

  “For exactly the same reasons as before. I know his sort. He's reliably unreliable; you can trust him to be untrustworthy. If we hint that we know where the Kwokkah really is, he will promise that all sorts of riches will be ours if we let him into the secret. Not that we would believe a word of anything he said, but it would enable us to know what he was getting up to. If he did get to Utrophia, his guile and cunning might just be enough to get his hands on the Kwokkah. If he did, then we relieve him of it.”

  ***

  “Your Feminence. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

  Jim awoke from one of the mildly arousing reveries that had lately been stimulating him to see Orestia's face appear on the Bridge's screen.

  “Well, Captain, I have come to commiserate. A most unfortunate outcome to your latest venture, so I hear.”

  Jim stared intently at her face but did not detect much sign of commiseration. De la Beche affected his usual insouciance.

  “You are well informed as always, Your Feminence. The Orsonians, I assume. Discretion was never their forte. Well, c'est la vie, as they say, or perhaps not in this case. But we take the rough with the smooth as always.”