“Thousands of people!” she exclaimed. “Their thoughts and trophies! Oh no, they weren’t friends of yours, maybe; they wouldn’t agree with your every single word!”
“But….” Bott said again.
“But they had feet, too! And you can’t burn their memories and dreams into nothing just because they aren’t what you like best!”
Bott glanced left and right as he took two steps back. This had to be some kind of imperial trick to keep him busy while somebody else broke into the bridge and took command of the Drover.
The woman raised both hands to her forehead and then lowered them. Some kind of gem seemed to be between those hands, but Bott couldn’t get a good look as she pushed both fists together in front of her. “I’d rather you knocked my head off!” she snapped. “Do I? Yes, Ido!” She cleared her throat. “They’re more important than my head!”
She was about a head taller than Bott, wearing a white bodysuit with a grey vest and grey shorts over it. Black hair was tied up in a ball on the back of her head. Glittering black eyes watched him from over what was practically no nose at all. Bott could not immediately identify her home planet from either her face or her accent. She was human enough, though. And very angry.
“Why do you people have to DO these things? Can’t you let the rest of us go on? Isn’t there room enough in this whole galaxy for all of us?”
She raised the gem to her forehead again and Bott slid left. That could be a defensive weapon. She moved right to keep her eyes on his. Damp stains showed under the arms of her suit. He’d noticed them when she raised the gem before, but they were bigger now, and darker. He had also noticed a tremor in her lips now and again, between sentences, before she caught herself. This was important to her. Whatever this was.
“Is that the only way to achieve imperial control? By destroying everything that doesn’t meet your….”
Bott leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”
She let her hands drop in front of her again and stamped one foot. “Destroying my ship!”
Bott shook his head violently. “If I wanted to destroy it, I could have fired….”
She shook all her fingers at him; the gem dropped to dangle from a chain around her neck. “You won’t trick me!” She was all but shrieking now. “Why’ve you got to play with me? I always knew you’d get me some day! Didn’t I? Yes, I did! Why can’t you…why can’t you….”
Her lips rolled in on each other; tiny nostrils flared. “And where’s your uniform?”
This had to be a trap. She could not possibly NOT know he had stolen the drover; the Free Imperial State had sent out all kinds of cleverly-worded messages to watch for him and it.
“Are your communication systems down?” Bott asked, letting one hand trail along the grenades at his belt. The BBB-44 looked much larger now that he was thinking how many troops could be waiting inside for a signal. “I didn’t receive any distress signal.”
Her face came up. “Why would I send an SOS with you people around?” She sniffed, and set the gem against her forehead again.
Bott shrugged. “You were…the ship was flying so oddly I thought there was something wrong.”
Her ears reddened. “Those were…evasive maneuvers.”
Bott gave this some thought. Was that possible? No, not really. “Are you sure you don’t have damage somewhere?”
“My ship is just fine.” She faced him full on again, her chin coming forward. “Does it matter? When you’re just going to smash it or blow it up anyhow?”
“I am not!” Now Bott stamped one foot. She stamped one of hers and took a step toward him
“You’ll keep it as a trophy, then, for your lackeys to laugh at.” She turned left and right, the stone pausing halfway down again. “Where are your lackeys? Where are they hiding?”
“Where are yours?” Bott returned. “Are you trying to make me believe you’re alone?”
Their gazes locked; her lips moved a little but no words came out. Then she cleared her throat and set the stone to her forehead again.
“Why would I want to hide anybody? We’d be outnumbered once you boarded us anyhow!”
Bott understood what was wrong. He was giving her credit for a really subtle plan. The Imperial military had a very low tolerance for subtlety.
“You are alone, aren’t you?”
She took a step backward. “I didn’t say that. Did I? I did not!”
Bott moved forward. “But you are.”
“I….”
“So am I.”
The almost invisible nose bounced up and down as she wrinkled it. “I was wondering. You’d have had your troops out here by now, wouldn’t you?”
Bott nodded. “And so would you, if you were part of a trap.”
“But what kind of trap….” She frowned, and let the gem dangle again. “Are you still playing with me?” She took two steps back toward her ship. “Why would something this size have just one person on board? I don’t believe that for a second! Do I?”
“This is the Imperial Ship Drover,” Bott informed her, before she could answer herself. “I stole it from the Imperial port on Deshler.”
“The Drover?” she demanded. “That big master ship they were building? You stole it? All alone? Now, I don’t believe that at all. Not at all. No, I don’t.”
“Before you make up your mind….” Bott reached got the proper security card and held it up. She didn’t like the looks of it, and slid closer to the ramp of the BBB-44.
Bott made no comment. “Ship?” he said, [pressing the sides of the card.
“Not dead yet?” the computer replied.
Bott glanced at the woman, whose eyes had nearly vanished in a glare of suspicion. “Ship,” he said, “Tell this person who you are.”
“I am the main computer of the Imperial Ship Drover.”
“How do you do?” said the woman.
“Now tell her who I am,” Bott continued.
“Do I have to be polite?”
“Just tell her.” He held the card up so the woman could hear it clearly; he hoped the computer wouldn’t try anything tricky.
But the computer had already denied any ability to lie. “This person,” it announced, “Is a no=good, untidy, counterproductive, irresponsible, ignorant, stupid, unsanitary, depraved, odorous, underhanded, untrustworthy, sexually perverse, mentally unbalanced pirate.”
“See?” said Bott, in triumph.
“Yes,” said the computer. “I decided to be polite after all.”
“A pirate! How wonderful!”
The woman was clasping her hands at her bosom. Having dealt with the Drover’s computer this long, Bott suspected irony. “Wonderful?”
Now she slapped her hands together flat. “Oh, yes! How…how lovely! I’m a dangerous rebel, myself. We all were, and we always had friends among the pirates!”
“We?” Bott glanced at the ramp of her ship.
“We were one of the revolution’s education fleets.” She took three little steps forward. “When Imperial ships surrounded us and took us in, I was in the library and didn’t realize. But they didn’t know about me, either. So I was able to escape, with the Dragonshelf!”
“The what?”
She pointed back toward the ramp. “The Dragonshelf! From the stories of dragons and their hoarded treasures.” She nodded at him.
Bott’s mouth dropped open. He had forgotten, in all this confusion, that the BBB-44 was not only a stout shop but a cargo ship. Now, perhaps, he could get back into a profitable business.
“What is the treasure?”
She looked puzzled again, and wary. “Didn’t I just say that? I did! The Dragonshelf is the library ship. We carry books.”
Bott’s eyes went from gleaming to nearly dropping to the floor. Books made for hideously troublesome treasure.
Blogsy Babbles 