by Reiter
“Sorry I wasn’t able to go with you guys,” she said to Silnee.
“You’re sorry?” Olkin blurted. “Captain’s got moves, but she’s no Cutter.”
As Pristacia and Llaz lifted Adleon up into the car, he was taken up out of their grasp and put on top of the vehicle.
“I will ride with the Gallant up top,” Dungias declared. “We will not be seen.”
“You people heard the man,” Jocasta added. “Thom, we need to be out of the city twenty-seven minutes ago!”
“Understood, Captain,” Thom said, lowering her strapped goggles down from her purple hair to her eyes. The ground-car had a good engine, but no windshield to speak of. In order to do what had been asked of her, Thom needed to keep the accelerator down and use the tunnels along with the lower streets.
Three minutes into the endeavor, she started to relax. Nothing was in her mirror except anxious eyes. Her trans-comm, however, was going mad. Stories were beginning to stream all over the network. Apparently someone named CK had gotten into the systems and fouled up what everyone had been led to believe was a perfect Imperial system that the Gulmar Brigade had allowed to function in Oasis City. She delighted most of her passengers as she piped the feed into the monitors in the ground-car.
“Do we have to watch this?” Jocasta asked. She received a resounding ‘yes’ from all of her crew and her new driver. Looking out the window, she could see Dungias peeking into the car. He was holding his stick against the side window, and she knew he was feeding the images to Adleon. Amidst the ooohs and aaahs, she sat back, closed her eyes and allowed her body to rest.
“Damn right,” she admitted to herself. “I was fucking awesome!”
Surely there is a time to submit to guidance and a time to take one’s own way at all hazards.
Thomas Huxley
(Rims Time: XII-4201.23)
“What in the worlds could be taking him so long?!” Pristacia asked as she paced through the soft sand.
“Well, seeing as how he’s the only professional thief among us,” Jocasta said without opening her eyes. Several pallets had been made in the sand and Jocasta had folded up her long coat to serve as a headrest on one. Her arms were folded over her chest and she was quite comfortable, lying in the shade. “… I would say that he’s doing his job. You late for a date, Princess?”
“Please! That cannot be my pirate name!” Pristacia whined.
“Did I strike a chord?” Jocasta asked, though she was only passively curious.
Pristacia looked at Jocasta for a moment before turning to walk away. “Something like that.”
“Wow, that was pretty damn good, girl. You almost made me look up!”
“How did that not work?!” Pristacia exclaimed. “You didn’t even have your eyes open. Come on!”
Jocasta chuckled for a moment as she opened one eye to check on the wounded Gallant. The limits of her First Mate had yet to be found. Just a few hours in the desert, he had foraged and dug up a giant root, crafting a makeshift I-V for Adleon who was beginning to get some color back into his skin. She wondered, for a moment, if he would be sending more field notes to the encyclopedia editors.
“It was the way you caught your breath just before you turned,” Jocasta revealed. “It wasn’t a ‘oh crap, what a suck-ass life I’ve had’ kind of breath. It was a ‘let me pull the wool over her eyes’ kind of hiccup.”
“Yeah, the kind that princesses use all the time,” Llaz added, bringing laughter from nearly everyone.
“Hmmm,” Dungias muttered as he connected wires to the power plant he had removed from the ground-car.
“Did I miss something, First Mate?”
“The phrasing suggested cerebral engagement, not an emotional response,” Dungias advised. “Which is not to suggest you should use different words, Pristacia, but you should say them differently. Your emphasis was on ‘that’ when it should have been on ‘something’.”
Jocasta thought about it for a moment and looked up at Pristacia who was shaking her head and pushing Llaz. “Oy!” Jocasta shouted. “Did you hear the man or not? Time’s gonna come when you’ve got to use what the stars have given you, Princess. Like it or not, you look better than any of the rest of us do in our dreams! The man here is trying to help you turn what’s been a pain in your ass into a weapon on your hip. Pay attention, get over yourself, and learn how to win a fight without throwing a punch. The rest of us don’t have that in our arsenal.
“Us, Captain?” Silnee spoke softly.
“You got something to say, Tolip?”
“I happen to think you’re beautiful,” she said, looking at the sand.
“The Captain is quite comely,” Dungias added. Jocasta whipped her head around as Dungias activated the machinery. Cool air blew out of the rear of the ground-car and she closed her eyes to the sensation. She slowly opened them to look at Dungias. A devilish impulse swept through her mind and she smiled before speaking.
“But not beautiful, Z?”
“The human grasp of beauty falls short of you, Captain.” Silnee and Pristacia softly sighed, but Jocasta decided not to acknowledge what had been said or the immediate reaction. At least not verbally.
“And the Malgovi sense of beauty?” she pressed.
“Fortunately, my people are comprised of two races,” Dungias stated. “The Vinthur are more adept with all things metaphysical. When they are prepared to call something beautiful, it is only because that object has registered on all facets of life. It looks a certain way, it has its own particular sound, its own presence, and of course the feelings associated to the object. To use the word ‘beautiful’ is to claim that the recipient of the word is life-changing; by any other definition: a Star in the darkest sky.” Dungias’ eyes never wavered from Jocasta as he spoke and she never looked away. Her normal demeanor was quickly overwhelmed. With each word she questioned if Dungias meant she was beautiful to him… she questioned if she could be that to anyone or anything.
“But the truth of it is crystal clear, Jo,” she thought. “Z is beautiful to you!”
“Whoa!” Silnee spoke, breaking the silence in the camp.
“Indeed,” Adleon added. “I do not believe I have ever heard anything so deeply touching.”
“That’s bound to get the rumor mill running,” Jocasta said as she put her head back down. “At the risk of making it overheat and blow, if I had to give a word to that definition, ‘beautiful’ would not be what I would use.”
“What would you use, Captain,” Annsura quickly asked.
Jocasta settled back to her place and let the cool air sweep over her body. Her First Mate had gone and made the desert comfortable. Damn! “Dungias,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Where did she get that word from?”
“Dungias is my name,” the Traveler said as he looked at the crew. “Z’Gunok Tel Dungias, actually. Z’Gunok is my family name. Not liking the length of my full name or the complexity of my family name, the Captain has chosen to call me Z.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Silnee said, and Dungias was surprised to see that on one level or another, everyone was in agreement with the name choice. Silnee, however, could see that the group consensus did not rest well with the First Mate, Chief Engineer and Drill Instructor. “If she’s going to shorten your name, she can’t use ‘T’!”
“Because that’s a drink with jam and bread,” Llaz said. Everyone laughed, but Olkin was drinking at the time and choked on his water.
“And ‘D’ sounds too much like a girl’s name,” Silnee continued as she chuckled. “That leaves her only one option… Z.”
“That’s the girly-girl reason,” Mel offered. “… which is not necessarily the way the Captain thinks.” The comment made Jocasta lift her head and open her eyes. “Z is the last letter of the alphabet… the final word… the Omega to everyone else’s Alpha. That’s what the Captain was thinking when she gave you that handle.” Jocasta and Dungias looked at each other and the woman smirked as sh
e closed her eyes and lowered her head down on her folded coat. Neither of them would say that the name had come within three minutes of Jocasta meeting Dungias.
“I gotta admit, Tank, that does sound kick-ass,” Annsura said, taking hold of her water bottle. “To our First Mate and to our Captain; our Omega and his Pirate Queen!”
“Okay, flush that crapstack away right here and right now,” Jocasta said as she sat up. The way she spoke and the way she moved told everyone that she was no longer in a joking mood. “I may be a number of things to a number of people, and needless to say only sailors can say some of those words... but I will never be a Pirate Queen. NEVER! And the sooner you young drips get that through your skulls, the better!
“Z, isn’t there something they could all be doing?” Jocasta asked and Dungias knew what she was truly requesting.
“Aye, Captain,” he answered. “Full weapons assembly and inspection,” he commanded. To their growing credit, not one of the crew sighed or whined. They got up and gathered their weapons. Dungias looked back at Jocasta who could not attempt to lie back again. She was up and on her feet, looking at her cane before she tossed it back toward her pallet, shaking her head and muttering to herself.
But Dungias did not just see Jocasta Endigun fighting what had been said. He remembered a conversation in his lab when his Vi-Prin had tried to reason with him; had tried to tell Dungias what he had become to their people. He recalled quite clearly how much he had argued Danatra’s perspective. He was not responsible for them. He was not their savior. No, he had left his home systems to avoid that place only to assume the responsibility for all of humanity! He wondered if he was watching history repeat itself. Dungias walked over to the woman to be what Danatra had tried to be to him. The only thing he knew was what would not work as far as approaches to the subject were concerned.
“I don’t need to hear it, Z,” Jocasta said bitterly.
“Then perhaps you should work another minor miracle and strike yourself deaf,” he replied. Jocasta turned to look at him and he could see the surprise in her eyes. This time that emotion came with a level of pain. “You told me, ‘they also love us because we do what they won’t or can’t’ and I took you at your word.” Jocasta closed her eyes, remembering the moment all too clearly. Whoever it was who had said that eating your own words was a bitter experience, had seriously undersold the affair. “At that time, I will freely admit that I had my doubts. There was, after all, a chance you were just living out a fantasy all your own.
“And while there is still a good chance of that,” Dungias continued, moving to stand just behind her right shoulder. “… only a witless fool could argue against the fact that the fantasy you are living is slowly becoming a reality. Just look around you, woman! Today you did something they can’t… at least not now. But you went and made the impossible simply legendary for them. You possess the vision to be a true pirate, and I will follow you to what you consider to be your end, if only to prove you wrong! But you get this, Jocasta, and you get this good: some people are born, live and die with only simple dreams to sustain them. Others are born to be the stuff of dreams!”
“And what am I, Z?” she asked, opening her eyes and looking over her shoulder.
Dungias waited a moment and decided to not give her his initial answer. “You, Captain… you are that which comes after,” he replied, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder. “It is your place to show the stuff of dreams what fantasies are made of. I’d call that a kingdom and you are most definitely its ruler supreme. Having said that, I can agree that being called a Queen is a disagreeable thing. But your argument should only be with the title, not the throne.”
As he turned to walk away, Jocasta put her hand on top of his. “You called me Jocasta,” she noted.
“Out of the earshot of everyone else, Captain” Dungias said. “And that just happens to be my word for beautiful!”
“We’ve got a proximity signal,” Mel called out.
“Of course we do,” Jocasta whispered, smiling at the interrupted moment.
“It’s Nulaki!” Mel reported. Jocasta breathed a sigh of relief as Dungias signaled Olkin to climb on top of the ground-car. After doing so and adjusting his goggles, the young archer confirmed what Mel was reading.
“It’s Nulaki all right. And he’s got some mounts and a couple of long wagons.”
“A wagon, in this sand?” Jocasta asked.
“They’re riding on some kind of skiffs,” Olkin stated. “Sending images now.” Everyone was able to see buckboards mounted on wide and flat planks that rode on top of the sand.
“It would appear that Nulaki was good enough to pick up the supplies I ordered,” Dungias said. “With very little work we should be able to make a place for Adleon.”
“Again, you all have my gratitude,” Adleon said in earnest. Mel clapped down on the man’s arm as everyone started making preparations to change vehicles.
“This is your last chance, Thom,” Jocasta warned. “Leave now and have only a spat of insanity that you can tell your kids about, but at least you’d have the kids.”
“I was about to ask you if you had room for two more crew hands,” Thomasine answered. “I would say three, but one of them is the brother of the one that Z put down. I think all he’d want is a chance at revenge. With the ground-car empty, I could go back to OC and be back with them inside a day or two at the most.”
“Z, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare wrist-com, would you?”
“I believe I can assemble something that would be adequate for her use, Captain,” Dungias replied. “I will need your wrist-com, Thomasine, and some time.”
“You’ve got as long as it takes us to load up the wagon and get geared up for our trip,” Jocasta returned as she walked to meet Nulaki. “… to wherever it is we’re going!”
“I’m not sure being around you is a good thing for me,” Nulaki said as he rode up on his mount.
Like the Terrans themselves, many other life forms of Old Earth had made the journey to the Rims ages before and, had been just as greatly accepted and experimented upon. The sand-striding caballions were simply one result. Something of a hybrid of the Old Earth camel and the horse, they were perfect mounts for the region. Their legs were long and muscular but instead of hard hooves, the caballion possessed wide, soft-soled feet.
“And why is that?” Jocasta asked as she took hold of the reins of Nulaki’s mount.
“The whole place is buzzing about what you put down at the spaceport,” Nulaki said as he dismounted. “Do you know that they had to close the entire Southside Section after all the structural damage it suffered?”
“They’re free to bill me,” Jocasta returned. “We came away from it a little smelly and heavy an extra mouth to feed.”
“I can help you with both of those,” Nulaki said as he walked toward the wagons. “Not only did I pick up the supplies that Z bought,” Nulaki gestured to the first wagon that Ephaliun was driving. The young man and the Captain caught eyes for a moment and traded nods. “… but then I thought for a moment… dangerous I know.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Jocasta smiled as she walked with him.
“… and I made another stop,” Nulaki continued as he stopped beside the second wagon. Jocasta looked up to see a humped-over hooded figure driving it. A nearly white-skinned and aged hand came away from the reins to pull back the hood. Jocasta looked up at a very old and pale woman with flaking and spotted skin. Her thin, frazzled white hair blew in the wind.
“This is the one of whom you spoke?” the woman said in a rough voice before she started coughing. She turned her head away from Nulaki and Jocasta, heaved and spat something black from her mouth. It landed in the sand and gave a soft sizzling sound as it fell down out of sight.
“Charming,” Jocasta commented.
“Better out than in,” the woman replied, straining her green-gray eyes at Jocasta.
“Tell that to the sand … and our noses,” Jo
casta winced as she waved in front of her face. “Wow, lady, you are ripe!”
“Hrmph, never been called a lady before,” the woman commented as she scratched her chin. Flakes of her skin flew away from her face. One of the treasures of being a pirate was that few pirates remained in only one or two systems. Jocasta had seen many systems and sampled many cultures, learning from Scimitar and Rouge what was and was not acceptable in the range of reactions. All too often Terrans could forget themselves and insult a regal figure, only to find that when they were invited to dinner it was not to be fed so much as to be the feed. As the flakes fell over Jocasta, the only thing the woman moved was her eyelids. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance as well,” the aged figure continued.
“A word, Conadier,” Jocasta said calmly as she looked at the woman, smiled and withdrew.
“Captain,” Dungias said, taking one step toward Jocasta. “… our departure from this place will have to wait.” Jocasta stopped long enough to look at her First Mate. He was not asking and that was a very rare thing indeed. More than that, however, there was a feeling to the strange woman and Jocasta welcomed the opportunity to find out what that was.
“See to it then, Z.”
“Aye, Captain,” Dungias returned before turning to look at the woman in the wagon. “Your visitation is… unexpected. But we will try to make your stay as comfortable as possible.
“Just give me a moment to set up my tent and then line them up,” the woman said as she started down from her wagon. “Starting with… the one who has been given the name of regal standing.” The woman nearly jumped in fright as hands took hold of her waist and lifted her slightly, easing her away from the wagon and setting her down gently on the sand. She quickly turned to look up into the eyes of the Traveler. She chuckled and slapped his arm. “Aren’t you a strong one,” she joked. “This package isn’t as light as it used to be!”