Alexander Outland: Space Pirate (35 page)

Managed not to toss my comets and asteroids, but it was a near thing. Of course, looking around at where we’d ended up, vomiting might have been an improvement.

We were on the command deck of the main vessel in the armada. It was big enough to warrant a command deck, versus a cockpit. It was manned with a lot of people who all looked vaguely familiar, as if I’d just seen their photos flashed over and over again against the walls of the
Sixty-Nine
’s dining area.

And they were all, to a person, pointing guns at us. Situations like these demanded a great opening line. The line I wanted didn’t come to me, but one that pretty much summed up the entire trip so far did.

“Wow, Governor, I guess we’re not on Knaboor any more.”

A
leggy blonde who looked familiar stalked over to us. She was dressed like a fantasy woman pirate—tight blouse, tight leather pants, bandoliers crossed over her impressive planetary simulations, knee-high leather boots, laser pistol on one hip, what looked like an Omnimun saber hanging off the other.

I couldn’t imagine what the bandoliers were for, other than to keep her rack in place—lasers and sabers didn’t need bullets and she didn’t have knives or explosives hooked in them. They did show off her assets impressively, so I went with them being a decorative touch and nod to the ancient past when no self-respecting pirate would have let a woman on board unless she was flat on her back.

On the Slinkie Scale, she wasn’t at the top, but she was close, bandoliers or no bandoliers. I was also pretty sure she was Nitin’s sister. I wondered where her Ebegorn tattoo was. I hoped it was in the same spot as Nitin’s. Or on her butt. Lower back would be acceptable as well. Forced my mind back to the matter at hand.

She glared at me. “Who are you and what are you doing on my ship?”

I figured I had nothing to lose with honesty. “Looking for Pierre de Chance.”

Her mouth quirked. “Why?”

“Have something for him. Possibly, anyway.” I still had my arm around the Governor, who was looking particularly frail. I figured it was his act, but the possibility that the shift had caused him problems was there. Decided him collapsing on the floor wasn’t in my best interests at the moment. Kept my arm around him. “Where is he?”

“He’s been dead for fifty years.” Her voice was both icy and amused.

“Oh, I know that.” Nice to know I’d figured the Governor’s time fudging correctly. “I know who killed him. And I’m not interested in Petey, Junior, either. I want to talk to this generation’s top bird.”

She smirked at me. “Why should we take you to our, ah, top bird?”

“Oh, give it a rest. You know who I am.”

“True. And who you’re hugging.”

“We believe in revering the elderly on my planet.” I hoped she thought the Governor was Murgat, not the Butcher. Figured we’d find out fast, one way or the other.

She snorted. “Right. So, what information do you have for our top bird?”

“I like to give top information to the top directly. Saves time, saves confusion. Sure, it cuts out the middleman, but that way, you get your information wholesale.”

She gave me a wide, slow smile. “Feel free to spit it out.”

“Like to know who I’m talking to, first.”

She shrugged. Not up to Slinkie’s standards but still worthwhile to watch. “I’m Charmaine de Chance. And my eyes are up here.”

Unlike Randolph, I could translate names. “Lucky Charm?” Truly, who named these people, and could I find and hurt them, even retroactively? Forced my eyes back up. Not as hard as leaving Slinkie’s rack, but I did find myself glad I’d left her on the
Sixty-Nine
—I didn’t need to deal with the vulture-glare right now.

She grinned. “So to speak.”

“So, Captain Charm, I presume?”

“Feel free to call me Commander de Chance. Since we have a fleet, I outrank you. And, since you supposedly have information I’m eager for, please tell me what it is before I have you killed.”

“Always with your family it’s the killing.”

Charmaine raised her eyebrow. Nice arch. “Who else from my family do you know?”

“I’ve become close enemies with your brother recently.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, really? How’s the little weasel doing?”

“Nice try. He’s handling your operations on the ground.”

Charmaine’s eyes were still narrowed. “No, he’s not. The traitor went planetside and hasn’t done one thing he was supposed to.”

“Oh, don’t sell him short. He tried to kill me.”

“Yet, you’re here, alive and well.”

“Aren’t you lucky? Well, considering, I guess you are. Always. In that sense.”

“I’m lucky, you’re not.”

“Oh? I was lucky enough to get away from you on our way into Herion’s solarspace.”

She shook her head. “I’d assume that was skill. So, what is it you wanted to offer me? Your ship? I’ll find it and take it. Your crew? Got a crew, would never be able to trust yours. You? You’re not bad to look at, and your reputation precedes you, but I need a pilot I can’t trust less than I need crew I can’t trust.”

“Hmmm. So it’s in my best interests to hang onto my information a while longer and see if I can charm you into adding me and my crew on as the lucky thirteen in your fleet.”

“It’s in your best interests to pray to your gods for safe passage to the next world.”

“Oh, come on. If you kill me right now, you won’t know what it is I’m here to offer, you won’t know what all your brother’s been up to, and you won’t get to find out if my reputation’s true or not.” I winked. “It’s true.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I did hear that you didn’t have any problems with a small ego.”

“Let me reassure you—nothing’s small on the Outland.”

“You actually refer to yourself as ‘the Outland’?”

“Amazing, isn’t it?” the Governor said.

Charmaine gave him a long look. “So, what’s a deposed, washed-up politician doing with the most overrated pirate in the galaxy?”

The Governor and I looked at each other. “I beg your pardon, young lady. Washed up?” He sounded just this side of furious.

“Yeah, and overrated? Hardly, babe. If I were overrated, you’d have caught me before we ever made Herion.”

“I’ve caught you now.” Charmaine looked smug.

“Well, see, here’s the thing. I got onto your ship without your consent. And I can get off it without your consent, too. Whether or not you’ll be around to know about it is the issue.”

She snorted. “Right. Just what do you think you’re going to threaten me with? The ancient you’re clinging to? The possibility of having sex with you? The likelihood that you have a plan other than running your mouth?”

“Nah. I thought I’d try being friendly and, since you keep on forgetting about it, sharing some information I know you’ll want to have. Or do you really not have any interest in taking revenge on the person who offed dear old Lucky Pierre the Original?”

“I’m interested. Somewhat, at any rate.”

“Good. Then I’ll bet you’ll be even more interested to know all that your brother’s been up to.” She nodded. “Great. Then my real news should excite you beyond belief.”

“R
eal news?” Charmaine’s interest finally sounded truly captured. Great. Now, just had to come up with something better than sharing that I had the entire de Chance Family Album uploaded to the
Sixty-Nine
.

In cases like this, stalling had always been my friend. I decided to stick with the tried and true. I let go of the Governor—he seemed fine on his own power. Rolled my shoulders, stood up straight, relaxed a bit. Ready to leap out of the way or drop to the floor, depending.

Took a look around. Drop to the floor would be the only option—we were still surrounded by de Chance progeny and they were still pointing weapons at us. Noted all of them were dressed like Charmaine, in what I considered “Ipsita Casual”—clothing only found in entertainment, never worn in real life.

I took a closer look. They were all my age or younger. Most of them were closer to Tanner’s age. Lionside would seem old to them, let alone the Governor. They all also had looks on their faces that were vaguely familiar. True, I hadn’t seen something like this since I’d left Zyzzx, but some things you didn’t forget. Their expressions were all overdone, like they were copying something from the latest Ipsita release.

Reality waved. The de Chances were poseurs. Good at it, but still, in reality, fakes, kids playing dress up with real ships and guns. Killing real people and doing very bad things, but clearly with the mindset that, in a way, it wasn’t real. I realized why Nitin had split, if, in fact, Charmaine wasn’t lying about it—he had the pure nasty naturally. The rest of them, not so much.

I’d spent too long observing. “Well?” Charmaine sounded annoyed. Annoyed and ready to give a sign to her cast to shoot. More stalling was in order.

“Candy?” I pulled out a random sweet from Nitin’s store and offered it to her.

Charmaine went pale. “Don’t threaten me.”

“With sugar? You’ve got a nice figure but a couple of extra pounds wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Don’t toy with her, Alexander,” the Governor said, voice on full quaver. “You know that’s not a candy.”

I did? If it wasn’t a candy, what was it? Did my best not to look or sound confused. “Well, where’s the fun in not playing around?”

“No one but a lunatic plays around with Plastiques.” Charmaine sounded different—I realized she was frightened. About time. Thought about what I was holding, and what I apparently had a pocket full of—got a little tense myself.

Plastiques were bombs. Effective, nasty, and above all, small bombs. Disguised to look like something ordinary. And, if the Governor’s reactions were right, I was carrying a pocketful of them. Enough to blow up the entire armada.

My original impression of Nitin returned. He hadn’t underestimated me, like Tanner thought. He hadn’t been overconfident, like Lionside thought. He’d anticipated me perfectly, right down to the smallest details—and I’d stopped thinking about it, because we’d been too busy trying to stay alive for me to really consider why Nitin would have come into that interrogation cell alone. He’d let me escape, and put this entire plan into motion. And I’d helped him, the entire way.

No time to berate myself right now, though. I had to determine if the enemy of my enemy was a weaker or a worse enemy. The possibility of them being my friend wasn’t in the realm of reality—sure they were playing at what their grandfather had almost achieved with hard work, but the genetics were there to create havoc. Herion’s situation was proof they were effective. Which made me wonder whose plan they were following—Charmaine’s or Nitin’s. Or Lucky the First’s. Or, worse thought, someone else’s heretofore unnamed and unknown.

“I’m not a lunatic so much as someone who doesn’t like being forced to do things against my will. Call me uncomfortable with authority other than my own.”

Charmaine nodded. I got the distinct impression she was trying not to make me mad. Did a remedial review of Plastiques. They were set off by a variety of mechanisms—sound, force, triggers. Really, you named it, a Plastique could go off at any time from it.

We hadn’t blown to bits when we were in Lake Disgusting, so I had to presume these weren’t sound-sensitive. We weren’t blowing up now, so if they were trigger-set, Nitin’s triggering mechanism had been destroyed. This left the easy answer of force as the explosive mechanism. If you chewed it, your head and the heads of anyone within a mile radius would explode. Wondered if the Land League had been using these explosives to blow up the bathhouse and the Crazy Bear. Decided that was more of an issue for Lionside to be concerned with than me.

I closed my hand around the candy. “Now, before I ensure no one on this ship ever has to worry about creating the next generation of de Chances, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“We want to control the galaxy.” Charmaine said this like it was some big reveal.

“Yeah, really clear on that. Put the damned weapons away or I squeeze my hand really hard.” She nodded, the weapons went down.

The Governor did a slow turn. “He meant all the weapons, children, not just the ones in the front. That’s better.” He shook his
head. “Amateurs.”

“No argument.” I shot Charmaine my best withering glare. I’d seen it enough from Slinkie, figured I was probably good at imitating it. “Whose plan is it you’re following?”

Plastiques or no, she got annoyed. Her eyes narrowed again and she clenched her jaw. Not bad. Slinkie still looked better doing something like this, though. “My plan. Are you insinuating I can’t think strategically because I’m a woman?”

“No, I’m insinuating that I already know you’re following the blueprint your dearly departed set up decades ago. I’m asking why your brother’s on Herion and just what is it the two of you think you’re pulling.”

She opened her mouth and the sound of claxons came out of it. Charmaine closed her mouth. The claxons continued. Something of a relief, really.

One of the family who hadn’t been surrounding us raced over. Not as good in the looks department as Charmaine but did have a decent rack. I could tell, because faux pirate wear didn’t really offer the lift and support so important to the full-figured woman.

“Commander, Herion Military ships coming to engage!”

Charmaine barked orders and the Governor and I were suddenly very alone. Plastiques held nothing like the terror a Herion Military fleet did.

“So, you think Lionside called in the troops?”

“Sadly, no, Alexander. I think Nitin got rid of the one man who might possibly have stood in his way by making it more worthwhile for the Major to join up with us.”

“Yeah, sadly, that’s what I was thinking, too.” I pondered. “I really want to go back to the
Sixty-Nine
and get our flock out of here.”