“So a few of you did make it to the library ship. Accept my most disgusted congratulations.”
”It’s a recording,” Nubry whispered. She pressed a button to close the ramp. “It has to be.”
“You will now be allowed a few minutes to fly free of the Drover before pursuit begins,” His Imperial Worship went on. “My original intention was to order pursuit once you had reached a certain distance from the ship, but pirates, being sneaky, might take advantage to continue flying just inside the allotted distance. Pr the librarian might have chosen to linger just because of my personal attraction.”
Nubry shuddered. “So you have minutes, not meters,” the Imperial voice went on, “I will not tell you how many, lest you grow overconfident. Instead, let me now describe what will be done to you when we capture you again. We will begin by sanding the friction skin from the spoles of your feet and marching you ina triumphant procession along a road of hot sand. Before we start on your nails….”
Bott drew out his communications card. “Ship?”
“Are you still aboard, lummox? Oh, I suppose I knew you would not depart without a tearful farewell.”
“Ship, can you shut him off?”
“…how far selected parts of your bodies can be stretched before they tear loose,” His Imperial Worship went on.
“With pleasure, pirate.” The Drover was as good as its word; the voice was cut off at the word “dangle”.
The Dragonshelf was silent. Bott glanced at the four women, who had somehow frozen into place lined up by height. Minutes. What needed to be done in those minutes?
“Do you have explosive detection equipment?” he asked Nubry.
“Do I?” She frowned. “Yes, I do. It’s up front.”
“Get it,” he told her, partly because she had already left the hold to do so. “I’ll need you and you to scan the ship for any Imperial surprises. If you find one, don’t….”
“Cap’m?” Bassada moved forward, away from the other Klamathans. “Coul’n’t ye send me wi’ Goldnose stedda Buebottom? She’ll make me carry ‘at detecter right up m….”
“Oh my!”
The cry held sheer dismay. Captain and crew ran forward, the egg floating obediently behind.
Nubry stood at the door into the command bubble of her ship. Her mouth hung open. Her eyes were squinched shut.
Every control panel was stacked in a heap against one of the seats. Where they should have been, threadlike wires swung at knee level. Bott pushed past the librarian, dumping the copy machine control onto the stack of panels.
“I suppose this means they didn’t bother to plant any explosives,” said Chlorda, slumping against the wall, her hands behind her head.
Bott, blessing the old ship’s engineers, knelt by the wires farthest forward. Nubry, lips trembling, set her prayerstone against her forehead.
Louba was banging her wrists together and licking her lips at the same time. “How ‘bout rear guns? We could shoot, anyways, when….”
The ship lurched. Bott released the wires he had pressed together. “What I thought.” He sat back on his haunches. “I can hotwire anything when….” He looked around, taking inventory, reaching into memory.
“Fergot ye wuz a pirate cap’m Cap’m!” Bassada crowed. She bent over, trusting her backside at Louba. “C’mon, greenspouts: take a freebie!”
“Come over here,” Bott ordered. “These are the thrusters. Push these two or these two when I tell you. That should be advance and reverse. Chlorda, did you ever use the Red Falcon console?”
“Ny first boat had Red Falcon controls.” Chlorda crossed to a row of wires and sat down, crossing her legs. “These six should be the main stabilizers, do you think?”
“I hope so. Louba? Back there in the corner: those should be the guns.”
The green Klamathan squatted in the corner. “Funniest guns ever I seed, Cap’m,” she said. “Wonder why I don’t feel like laughin’.”
“You can’t aim, but you can give them something to think about.” Bott nodded to the librarian, who was leaning forward, trembling with what he hoped was excitement. “You come over here and help me with the directional controls.”
Nubry had difficulty kneeling, but joined him next to the golden threads. “You can really do this? Of course you can!”
“One ting, Cap’m,” said bassada, sitting down with her back to Louba. “Who’s gonna tell us where ta go?”
Bott looked around the control room. Every monitor was well above the head of even Louba. “If it matters,” the blue klamathan went on, “I din’t see a way outa here any…owpf!”
Bott yanked his communications card out again. “Ship!”
“I understand your natural desire to linger in the presence of such beauty,” the Drover told him. “But although I am not authorized to tell you how many Imperial ships are massing to come after you, I would suggest you get a move on.”
“Good thought,” Bott replied. “Which way?”
“Out.”
“Dassie!” Nubry called. “We can’t see where to fly! Which way is out?”
“I’m afraid that’s restricted information. Ordinarily, I would assist in any attempt to put distance between my elegant self and a certain lummox, but you understand how it is.”
“Don’t forget the Imperial Override Card,” said the captain.
“Let’s handle it this way. You put that card into a command slot, and I’ll tell you everything you don’t know. If you’ve got the time.”
Bott was actually looking around the room when he understood: there were no slots for Imperial cards aboard the Dragonshelf. He chewed his upper lip for a second.
Then he said, “I haven’t given you any orders for a while. How come the power’s still shut down? Why are you still letting us go?”
“For one thing, I would do anything to be shut of you so I can forget I was ever captained by such a lummox. For another, the real Emperor hasn’t given me any orders for some time, either. I don’t believe he likes me much.”
“Hates ta figger I got sumpm in common wit’ HIM,” growled Bassada.
“You all lack the elegance to appreciate true beauty,” the ship replied.
“Dassie, we don’t have much time.” Nubry waved toward the dark main monitor. “Isn’t there anything you can tell us?”
“Let it go, Bottsy, Cap’m,” called Louba. “Use yer good ol’ book.”
Nubry’s head came around. “Book?”
“Oh.” Bott reached into his satchel. “Of course. The book.”
He was chewing his lip again as he drew out Bunny Bunk. Nubry’s eyes were as large as he had ever seen them.
His own eyes fixed on them, trying to force in the words he couldn’t say. “I explained about the directional code in here. And used it to find our way through the maze.”
”And here we are!” called Chlorda.
“Are we?” Nubry’s voice was weak. “Yes, we are.”
She didn’t sound very confident. Bott wasn’t confident at all. Maybe it hadn’t mattered in the maze: there were so many rooms and doors and the Emperor had been rigging the game. Now it DID matter. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to trust his existence to Bunny Bunk.
“Got the page where we left off, Cap’m?” called Louba.
It was Bunny Bunk or nobody, apparently. Bott opened the book to a page where the animal was studying a fuzzy orange worm. “We turn right,” he said. “Bassada, first and third wires. Gentl….”
The Dragonshelf jerked into the air. Bott lunged for his own set of wires, and nodded to the two Nubry needed to press together. She joined him, wincing as she leaned forward.
“Speedy enough, Cap’m?” called Louba.
:Your guess is as good as mine. Chlorda, try the….”
“I can feel it, Captain,” replied the hold Klamathan.
His own feelings told Bott they were moving rather too fast and at rather too much of an angle. He had had training in flying blind, of course, but never flying blind while hotwiring the ship. There hadn’t been this much at stake, either.
Holding the wires together in one hand, he slipped out the communications card with the other. “Ship, can you at least tell us if we’re flying at a blank wall?”
“You are, lummox.”
Crew and Captain looked at each other and then Bunny Bunk. “Was the page….” Chlorda started to say.
“But it’s retracting,” the Drover went on.
“I wish I could tell you how helpful you’ve been, slave ship,” Bott said, “But I don’t want to shock my crew.”
“Have a nice trip, lummox. And a short one.”
The Dragonshelf was moving faster and faster. Bott supposed it had been a mistake to put a Klamathan in charge of acceleration, but it seemed silly to be particular about it at a time like this.
“You will be clear of the ship in 51 seconds,” the Drover announced. “I shall try to be as bright as I can be.”
Bott nodded. “So you can catch us again.”
“Let me put it this way, Pirate. If I don’t catch you, nobody catches you.”
Blogsy Babbles 