In the story so far, Whitey and his mercenaries are tricked into helping a revolution and become themselves in league with pirates who control the starship, Stardiver Four, which is dead in space. Vikki, a civilian, was left behind when the passengers and crew evacuated the ship; she pretends to be a security officer in the pirate society, but her youthful rebellion puts her in danger again. Julia, a robot designed to kill, discovers a desire to be loved and tries to mimic the beautiful Vikki to win the affections of men.
Chapter 55
Dance Moves And Bad Coffee
Dance Moves And Bad Coffee
Whitey was not happy. He prowled the corridors of the mammoth ship restlessly poking into weapons systems, supply centers, and engineering areas. Nothing was operational, "This ship is as good as dead. We've got to get it online before it becomes a coffin." He said more to himself than to the tired bodyguards at his heals.
Brandon caught up with him bringing coffee in a white cup. “Bill thought you might need this. It is our own brew with the rationed water.”
“Thanks, Brandon.” Whitey put the cup to his lips and drew in a deep drought. “The whiskey is a good touch. Thanks.”
“We found a cocktail lounge and thought no one would miss a shot or two.”
“OK, this time, but the word is we stay dry and sober. We are still in enemy territory. These pirates may be paying us but they are not our friends.”
"Boss." Whitey's collar radio crackled with the familiar voice of his second in command.
"What is it, Bill?"
"We got a problem. Our security officer went running off to the gym for some reason. I couldn't stop her without blowing the lid off of, you know her mission."
"Dammit, Bill." Whitey cussed. "OK. I'll go there and fix things."
The voice of Captain Stone blared throughout the ship. "All staff and executive officers are to meet me in the common room in ten minutes."
"That ass," Whitey muttered.
"Come on guys we are going to the gym." Whitey began to trot down the corridor.
***
Vikki's mind was focused on the movements and rhythm of her dance. In her trance, she was unaware of the intruding child shadowing her movements on the gym floor. Vikki was in a place of peace and familiarity, and it felt good. The comfort of her routine wrapped her in a world of predictability. She did not hear the click of weapons locking onto a target at her side.
Her audience of mercenaries came to alertness by the child who emerged from the shadows to dance with the beautiful young security officer. They waited with weapons ready for a sudden threat. Each thought, "It is just a kid. How dangerous could she be?"
"What the hell?" The commanding voice of Whitey shattered the moment bringing everyone to focus.
Vikki stopped in the center of the floor confused by the tension in the room. Julia stopped next to her as her programs downloaded information about the newcomer. The men shuffled, caught between their reflexes to attend to the Boss and training to focus on a possible threat.
Whitey strode up to Vikki, "What do you think you are doing?"
"My morning routine. You know, daily exercises." Then with a toss of her head, she said, "I don't want to get fat and lazy like some I know."
"You better not mean me or my men, young lady." Whitey bent over and brought his face inches from hers. "Look, we have a deal. You want to be safe from the pirates, so play the game like I say. If you don't want my protection you can just go to Crow and his gang or whoever you like. If you want to be safe you earn your keep. Get back to the shuttle and monitor every transmission, conversation, word, even every electron that moves and tell me what is happening on this stupid dump hole of a ship. You got it missy?"
She crossed her arms and glared at him uncertain what to say, and settled with a "Humph."
"And who are you?" Whitey demanded of the child.
"Julia." The childlike robot swayed side to side in a coy way looking innocent.
"We will be running a refugee camp before long. Guys take them back to base."
The voice of Captain Stone erupted from speakers above their heads. "I want all executive officers in the common room now."
"Stupid idiot," Whitey responded. He spun around and took a few steps to the exit but stopped and turned to look at the young woman's graceful form. She was a sight- young and shapely. "If things were not such a crappy mess I would be nicer to you, and not so bossy; but right now I just want you and all of us to stay alive. So, please, put on your space suit and go back to the shuttle and be my eyes and ears. OK?" He turned and left with his two bodyguards following.
"Bill," Whitey used the collar radio. "I want the team leaders to bring Fatso and join us in the common room to hear what Stonebutt has to say. You stay with the shuttle and supervise our security officer."
"Gotcha Boss."
***
Tom finished cleaning up the mess left by the Captain's tantrum. He put the plates on the floating cart and began to guide it out.
“Ollie, open the door.”
Ollie stood up on hind legs and put his paw on the pad that opened the door, but nothing happened. Ollie felt disappointment. He had failed.
“It’s O.K. Ollie. It’s locked, so you have to do it twice. Touch it again. Open the door."
This time, the door whooshed open. Ollie's tail wagged in pride.
“Good boy.”
They took the floating cart with the dishes to the little kitchen next to the common room. The fat bald pirate was there.
“Coffee,” Tom said.
The man looked up dumbly. His hands were in a dirty sink full of slime and grimy dishes. Seeing the dog he took a stumbling step forward. The man looked like a hungry cat that saw a plump sleepy mouse.
“No! No eat dog!” Tom shook his finger at the man. The man was like a child. “Coffee. Get coffee.” The fat man looked disappointed. He turned and waddled off to get the pot of steaming brown liquid. Tom did not take his eyes off the fat man as he loaded the large coffee urn onto the cart. With Ollie leading he hurried out pushing the floating cart.
“Ollie, ole’ pal. Stay away from that guy; he’s some kind of cannibal.”
The common room was full of men including Whitey, his guards, and team leaders; who stood around the edge of the room as if on guard while Stone's Lieutenants lounged at a long conference table. The Captain stood in front where he lectured and bullied the men.
“More meetings.” Tom thought. “I hate meetings they are always boring.” He went around the table and put a cup of coffee in front of each officer. Tom watched the Captain take a cup and put spoonful after spoonful of sugar in the coffee. “He‘s not so tough. He drinks more sugar than coffee.”
Tom slowly edged to the side door. "OK," he thought, "Everybody is here. Now is the time to sneak into the command center and use the code."
"Snowman." Captain Stone bellowed. "Stay here, I might need you."
"Oh leave the recruit alone, Stone." Whitey saw another opportunity to undermine Stone.
"Whitey, you rent a gun, I am in command, and not you; remember that."
"Command? Is that what you call this? I would have never known." Whitey's men watched for a sign from the Boss, but none came; only a snicker at the captain.
Tom thought of making a dash to the command center. He was still wearing the over-sized space suit with the belts bunching up the long legs; he would only get a few steps before the pirate gang caught him.
"Professor Ratts, what is the status of the engines and principle systems of the ship?"
Ratts sat slumped over with his elbow on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand. "Mostly intact a few minor repairs are needed, but the outer hull is badly damaged."
"Great when can we get moving?"
"Just as soon as we get the command code for the computer."
"Fatso," Stone continued. "You are supposed to be the greatest hacker in the universe, when are you going to get inside the computer of this ship?
O-bee was shaking. He held up his bandaged hands. “What am I going to do? That kid's dog..." He nodded at Tom and gestured at Ollie. "I lost three fingers. Look at my face! That dog tore it up. You made this happen. Look at me. It is your fault and now you want me to lick your boots?"
"It is not all about you. We have to make sacrifices for the cause."
"How?" Fatso held up hands wrapped in white balls of gauze."
"Who else do we have working on the computer problem?"
Another pirate spoke up. "Sir, the computer is wrong for this ship. Everyone is trying to hack it, but no one has ever seen anything like it. We do not have programs to by-pass the security locks, we still time to crack it if…”
“Not good enough.” The captain yelled. “The command code gives me command. I am in command I must have the command code."
“Sir,” Ragga-Aon spoke. “We are soldiers. We are trained to fight, not crack computer codes. Who knew we would need a software specialist?”
"Well, I thought I had one." The captain couldn’t admit he was beaten. “Fatso you cracked security codes for banks, governments, and military all across civilized space. I expect you to get the job done."
Stone glared at Whitey, "Lieutenant Whitey, you are in charge of weapons. So, give us a report on weapons. Can we fight? Can we launch torpedoes or rockets? Can we fire cannons or blasters?”
“Over half of the ship's mounted weapons are destroyed. What remains may work. Most need repairs; I got a few men working on them as we speak. We can only manually fire one rocket or torpedo at a time. We need the computer code. Until we get the computer online there is no way we can win a fight under these conditions. But what concerns me is the drifting.”
Everybody tensed up. Men who were half asleep stiffened to alertness. Others fixed their eyes on Whitey.
“Drifting?” The Captain whispered. “I thought auto-navigation would hold us steady in space.”
“Offline, like everything else, it needs the command code to come back on,” White replied. “You might like to know that water purification is offline too. The toilet water is seeping into the drinking water. You coffee has your own juices flavoring it.”
“What do you mean?” Several around the table asked.
“You know,” Whitey said casually. “Wiz, pee, urine. It is back flowing untreated into the drinking water. It is in your coffee.”
Men pushed their cups away. One man began to cough and gag. Stone held his cup to his lips and took a long slurping sip. “I’ve had worse,” He said. “It will all clear up when we get the command code.” Then he paused to swallow another slurp and said, “Security are you operational?”
Ragga-aon shook her head. “We are blind inside and out. I am trying to crack the code, too. The computer knows we are trying to get in and is acting against us.”
Captain Stone pounded the table. “I want the command code to the computer and I want it now. I promised the Supreme Commander that we will meet the fleet at Cirrus Nine. We have only eighty hours left and we can’t even start the engines.”
He changed the subject. “All right, we ration water and conserve our resources. Our orders are to meet the fleet at Andromeda Three. The fleet will have eight battleships, fourteen gunboats and dozens of fighters. Our army is waiting there. This ship will be serving as a transport; we can carry over a million fighters. Our target is Earth. By striking at the heart of the United Worlds we will have a quick and complete victory. Surprise is the key. There will be no radio transmissions from now on since our path takes us past a communications relay satellite. Am I understood?
The men in the room nodded or muttered, “Yes.”
The door swished open. The young pirate stumbled in he was panting. Sweat matted his hair to this forehead.
“Starfighters!” he said. “Starfighters are here. Over a dozen of them!”
(c) Adron
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Adron
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