BOOK NINE - !’ROIDS¡

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE - “DISTRACTION!”

Now... Turp finds that it’s easy to get the hang of sucking ilaam plasma; he even begins booling off on the swirling color-bursts of vented gas leaking from the boneship’s leaky, crackled hoses. Rateyes, Broonzy and Marina are starting to worry that one of them might have to go out and haul him back when the shurt scanner Rats has had installed... somewhat contrary to the law, Tony had said, I'll have you know... begins a crackling of its own, allowing them to eavesdrop on official communications between the cruiser's Communications Officer and some Regency dank on the ground.

"Do not copy, repeat, do not copy!" the Regency man begins screaming. "What is the problem with Uranus? There's no Uranus in the Dubanhka System.

"Negative, sir," the Communications man tries to edify him, "the problem is that somebody appears to be violating the ANUS-BEST-US! ilaam on the starboard approach to Tao City passport."

"Who's violating whose anus?" From what Turp told me, he could hear the laughter from the cruiser deck all the way to the boneship and up to him through that pitiful little com he carried, which Rats must have dug out of a box of cereal. "Cruiser, you are authorized to interdict and suppress all such violations."

"Uh oh… magic time," Rats decides. Switching the scanner's dial from receive to send and holding a hand over his nose to disguise his voice, he hails the Regency.

"Cargoship Glawmis to Regency, Glawmis to Regency…"

"This is Regency."

"We are at Vector 21, taking evasive action on approach to Marrach Cargoport from four unidentified birds rising out of the polar plateau. That's where pirates come from… faq?”

"Glawmis…" the Regency bureaucrat replies, probably reading off some manual that was prepared for situations from a thousand light years away, "...what is your identification and landing secure code?"

Rats has to think fast, he was good at improvising... give 'im that! "Breaking up…" and Turp thinks that the gambler starts making static noises out of the side of his mouth as Broonze simulates the thump of laser fire and Marina screames "PIRATES!"... "...you're breaking up. I think we've been damaged, you're…"

He tweaks the scanner back to receive as Marina points.

"Company. That cruiser's been joined by three, four more shurt boxes..."

"They're trying to hail…" Broonzy confirms.

Rateyes nods, so Broonze tweaks back from ground to the Regency cruiser.

"Unidentified vessel… you!… next to the ANUS-BEST-US! ilaam… identify yourself immediately and prepare to be boarded. Unidentified…"

Suddenly, the squeal of a Regency ubercom signal that even Turp can hear, way up in space by the roid ilaam, overrides the cruiser's ultimatum...

"Cruiser P-128, this is Regency. Urgent… this is Regency…"

"Roger. This is P-128," the Communications Officer responds. "We have unidentified vessel of vandalism in sight. Have not received a response to…"

"Forget that rawth, P-128. We've received notice of attempted piracy in Vector 21," the groundhog informs him. "All Regency cruisers are to proceed to Vector 21. Cargoship Glawmis… no identification number… believed under attack by four bad birds. Contact lost. Proceed under Situation Four."

"Copy. But what about ANUS-BEST-US!?"

"Anus who? You looking for an insubordination ticket. Jam it!"

Rats hears the cruiser breaks contact, he also overhears the Communications Officer saying, as soon as he does, "...jam it up your anus, Sir!"

"There is no Uranus in this system," the Science Officer corrects him. Again!

Uberlogical hummock!

Anyway, the Regency cruisers veer off and Turp is able to suck the rest of the hemorrhoid ilaam down and get back into Marina... the bird, young man, I know what you are thinking, more or less, know a spimmy when I see one.

"Saved again," Rats congratulates himself, "by the magic of. Rassoul!… I'm good!"

He actually beats his chest, like a mongo!

So what's that you say? Pain in the... alright, I know. I get 'em too! And forget about ANUS-BEST-US!, it's useless rawth... only thing to do is find a warm barstool at the Gool or some dive like it… cheap… and throw down a few until the fire, well it never goes away but it sort of spreads around. And the froom helps. By the vee, would you have a couple of soys you could lend me until Vornaday? I'm not hitting you up... this is a medicinal emergency, faq? And it don't matter what holy rawth Broonze got into, praying to him don't help either. Seein' that jammin' guns and money sign and remembering Rats has got me hurtin', pal... can you spare one. One jammin' soy...

Thanks! I'll owe ya... ask anybody, Al remembers his friends and them as ain't. I get the Regency to fix my claim from the Andromeda and you can come by, watch my screen... any time! Hey, you need a better unilator... I can get you one, almost new, fifteen soys. Or... how about you want I put a word in for you with Marina... she don't usually want to talk about the good old days, in the Andromeda, but sometimes you never know! And then, well...

OK, I'll let you get goin'. Thanks. I get a shot of blue Denebian in the ol' box and maybe these roids will gentle down real easy, like... tell you, boy, one thing I have learned out of life is that it's murder getting old. Plain jammin' murder! But then... what's the alternative? You got an answer for that?

Yeah, I'm waitin'...

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