Читать книгу Space Patrol! - Sarah Nicole Nadler - Страница 6
The Patrolman
ОглавлениеLissa stared around at the two captive boys in their cells. Each of them stepped up to the glass and stared back.
“Um, okay,” she said nervously, “I’m thinking we should get out of here somehow.”
She wasn’t certain they could hear her through the glass, but the African boy nodded urgently and pointed at the hatchway that led to his cell. Lissa started toward it, “I don’t know how to open this,” she told him. She inspected the edges of the hatchway but could find no handle.
The boy spoke, but no words reached her through the glass wall.
Stephanie followed behind her and reached out to the small black button panel beside the hatch. Her finger hovered over one of the buttons, but he shook his head and jabbed left until she touched the next one over. He nodded. She pressed it, and the hatchway hissed open, releasing the atmosphere seal with a rush of air.
Lissa cried, “Oh no!” Remembering too late the apparatus she wore over her mouth that served as a breath-mask. There was no Earth atmosphere in the corridor.
The boy quickly seemed to notice his mistake. He grabbed for the door and tried to close it again, but it was too heavy and refused to seal despite his straining. The air pressure inside continued hissing out. The boy started to gasp in the remaining thin air.
“Help me!” Stephanie cried. She pushed on the door, straining with the effort to close it.
Lissa joined her, shoving her shoulder against the edge to try and lever it back into place. It moved a fraction but still air hissed out. The pressure of the atmosphere releasing into the hallway was adding to the difficulty, she realized.
Inside, the air was becoming thin. The boy left off pulling on the door. He was gasping for air. As Lissa watched, her feet scrambling on the smooth floor for purchase, he fell to his knees.
A slim black hand reached from behind them and pressed against the door. Startled, Lissa glanced back and a strange sight met her eyes—a tall black girl with white stripes painted across her chest and cheeks stood above them, her strong bare arms helping to push the heavy metal door. Together, the three of them shoved against the hatch until it clicked shut. The moment the atmosphere seal locked, there was a second hiss and the boy began to rouse as Earth air once again circulated inside.
The newcomer wore a breathing mask similar to theirs, and odd pieces of body armor identical to that worn by Captain Nask. She was taller than Lissa or Stephanie, her skin, hair and eyes the deep black of African native tribes and when she spoke it was in a language the girls didn’t recognize. The bot translated for them.
“He will be alright,” the newcomer nodded toward the boy, “we need to find more masks before we can let them out.”
“Who are you?” Lissa asked. The girl looked very alike to the boy in the cell. Lissa thought she looked older than the two of them but not more than fifteen or so. She also noticed with embarrassment that the other girl had no clothing above the waist.
“I am Shika, of the Mursi People,” she gave a small head bow, “The boy enslaved there is my little brother, Ash.”
“So this really is a slave ship?” Stephanie asked, shivering.
“Yes,” Shika told her, “My brother was taken from our tribe. I snuck aboard before takeoff to rescue him but then I fainted when they drained the atmosphere. This creature saved me.”
From behind her hopped what looked like a short fluffy ball with two eyestalks and large three-toed feet. It was covered all over by bright pink fur, and its large black eyes stared expressively at Lissa. It had no mouth to smile with, but she got the impression it was doing so by the excited way it hopped up and down and rubbed her leg affectionately with one eyestalk like a sort of alien cat.
“I named her Lollipop,” Shika said fondly, giving the creature a soft scratch between the eyes, “She rescued me by dragging a breathing mask over to where I had fallen, and somehow managed to get it on my face.”
“Cute,” Lissa declared. She gave Lollipop a soft rub and the two eyes closed in happiness, “We should see if we can find more of these breathing things, though. Otherwise, he can’t get out.” she gestured to Ash, still trapped behind the glass wall. Shika nodded her assent.
The three girls looked around. The left wall was all glass cells, backed straight up against the wooden hull of the ship. No help there. Lissa inspected the right-hand wall. It was lined with hatchways that must lead deeper into the ship, she supposed, and just before the first one was a panel with alien lettering.
“What’s in there?” she mused, pointing. Scooting over to the panel she fumbled with the latch.
It opened with a small pop and her eyes fell on rows of breathing masks. Shika took one and showed them all the on-switch. She chattered something to Ash in their native tongue and mimed covering her mouth. Although he could not possibly have heard her, the boy nodded.
Shika then reached over and pressed the button on the black panel by his cell. The hiss came again as the atmosphere seal released air into the corridor, and this time the boy inside held his breath tightly. Now, Shika gestured to Lissa, who darted inside the hatch and helped Ash don the breathing apparatus. Once it was secured and they had both stepped out of the cell, Lissa said, “It’s nice to meet you.”
He extended a hand and said in English, albeit with a heavy accent, “You too. Thanks for getting me out of there.”
“You speak English!” Lissa was surprised.
“Only a little, and Shika speaks none at all,” Ash told her, shrugging, “We’re from Ethiopia, did she tell you? But I studied at University.”
He grabbed his sister by the arm the moment she came within reach and hugged her tightly. They chattered in Ethiopian for a moment. Lissa marveled at how the little bot, which was still hovering by her side, somehow knew not to translate this conversation, for she heard nothing but the two siblings’ voices.
Finally, Shika turned to Lissa and said, “I heard much of what Captain Nask told you, while I was hiding behind the doorway there,” she pointed, “Somehow the understanding of their words came into my head. I think it was Lollipop,” she patted the pink alien affectionately.
“Really?” Lissa was skeptical.
“She must be telepathic,” Ash commented, as though this was something he saw every day.
“That’s...highly unlikely,” Lissa pointed out.
“I believe it is true,” Shika insisted. Her hand lay protectively across Lollipop’s round body.
“Come on Lissa,” Stephanie urged, “How likely was any of this? We just got kidnapped by aliens, for Google’s sake. Now you’re gonna disbelieve telepathy?”
Lissa rolled her eyes, but knelt down until she faced Lollipop directly. She smiled at the little fur ball, “Can you understand me?”
No words came, but a funny feeling of happiness washed over her as though someone had suddenly bathed her mind in warmth.
“Whoa, that’s weird,” she reeled back. Lollipop hopped once to get her attention, and then two pictures flashed in Lissa’s mind—Captain Nask stunning Ash with a blast of his ray pistol, and then another of Shika kneeling to the floor in near-suffocation. Sorrow and an urgency to help filled her heart, and Lissa realized she was seeing and feeling what Lollipop had seen of the siblings’ capture.
“She and I overheard several conversations between the crew while I was looking for a way to rescue Ash and escape,” Shika said, “That is how I discovered that this is a slave ship. They have a contract with somebody to pick up “specimens” from Earth for possible sale on other worlds.”
Lissa shivered, suddenly fearful of the Captain’s return.
“What do we do?” wailed Stephanie. Lissa looked around for some means of escape.
“First, we should free the other guy there,” Ash said, pointing at the Mongol boy with his bird in the next cell. As they approached, Lissa held out a breath-mask. The boy shook his head firmly from within, his almond black eyes grave from behind the glass wall. He pointed at the bird-of-prey on his wrist, clearly asking how they expected it to breathe if they let him out.
“We’ll have to free him and leave the bird inside,” Shika told Lissa. Stephanie, who had a fondness for birds, made several gestures to the boy, which he seemed to grasp from his quick nod. When the air escaped with a hiss of the door opening, he gave a stern order to his bird, quickly donned the mask Lissa tossed him, slipped out of the door and helped them shove it tightly shut before the bird had begun to register any reaction at all to the loss of air pressure.
He paused a moment to ensure all was well, before turning to the others to say in English, “My name is Shiro—I am of the Kazakh people. Thank you for my freedom.”
Before any of them could answer, another jolt shuddered through the ship and Lissa was reminded of why Nask had made for the upper deck.
“Who are these Space Patrol guys?” she wondered.
“I do not know,” Shika shrugged, “They never mentioned it while I was listening.”
“Sounds like we’re about to find out,” That was Ash, his tone ominous. The ship was starting to lean heavily to the right, as though straining against something, and Lissa heard the creak of timbers in the hull. There was a sudden jolt which threw them all to the ground and made the water in the octopus tank slosh violently about, and then a voice came over a loudspeaker.
“Stand down,” the Translator bot made the voice sound stern as it relayed his order, “If you resist further your ship will be blown from the sky.”
The five children shared a look of apprehension. Would Captain Nask risk oblivion?
It seemed not. The slave ship hove to and subsided, and soon there were new sounds and voices coming from the upper deck. Lissa stood, brushing herself off and inspecting a new bruise that was beginning to form on her left elbow. It had connected with the wooden pole of Ash’s spear when she fell. With the four others crowding below her, Lissa cautiously crept back to the ladder, stepped up the first few rungs, and peered out onto the deck.
Mayhem was the word. Ray blasts of many colors shot back and forth from pistols on both sides of the tussle, making the deck look like a deadly bursting rainbow. Captain Nask had apparently put up a token show of surrender to lure Space Patrol into boarding him. He had taken cover now behind a large crate and was shooting over it at slim furry creatures that had invaded the forecastle and were targeting him and his crew. Lissa thought the creatures resembled oversized meerkats. They wore little over their furs except a few strategic pieces of armor and each had a shiny gold emblem on his or her right shoulder—a star hovering above a black X.
“Blast em!” Nask screamed at his crew, who were doing their best to comply. Lissa noticed that the translator bot had followed her up the ladder, hovering beside her at ear-level to do its duty. Together, they watched as the furry invaders gained ground step by step. She was forced to duck down occasionally when one or two got the idea she might be a possible target. Nask put up a decent firefight, evidently enraged by the invasion of his ship, but these Space Patrol chaps were a well-drilled corps. The furry aliens overwhelmed the pirates as Lissa looked on, and soon had them lashed to the mast.
A few of the newcomers showed signs of injury. Smoke wafted off of burnt fur as they gathered around their captives, and Lissa saw one who seemed pretty badly off, but that left them more than a match for the seven pirates. It was an impressive sight.
The haze cleared as the Forty-Five’s shipboard computer sent a gust of fresh Mars atmosphere through the ventilation system, and Lissa got a clear view of Space Patrol for the first time. They were a much shorter alien race than the space pirates, slim and quick in their movements. Her initial impression of large meerkats was not wrong: up close they resembled even more that particular Earth rodent with two exceptions—they each had four eyes instead of two, and they walked on their hind feet, paws outstretched with ray guns at their captives. They had won by superior numbers and were clearly well-drilled, whereas each of the pirates, being out for number one first, had refused to stand their ground when it looked like they would eventually succumb, in spite of Captain Nask’s threats to flay them alive for deserting him.
The leader of the Patrolship stepped forward. His fur was creamy caramel. He had a white underbelly and stood proudly up every inch of his four feet in height. His double pair of eyes glared at the pirates, accusing and hot with ill-temper.
“This is highly irregular,” he scolded. The bot translating in Lissa’s ear managed to make his words seem hostile despite his squeaky tone of voice, “Firing on a Space Patrol squad; injuring enforcement personnel!”
A clerical-looking officer stood beside him, scribbling furiously as he listed off citations, “You had better have a receipt for whatever cargo you’re carrying,” He added ominously, waving a stubby finger at the larger alien Captain.
“Err…” Captain Nask ducked evasively, not looking the Patrol Captain in the eyes.
“I thought so,” Came the disgusted reply, “And this is a Protected Planet! You have no right to be anywhere near this sector of space. What if the local inhabitants had seen you?”
The Patrol Captain whirled on a heel, quite military and proper, to give orders behind him, “Investigate below, Mr. Piff!” he commanded an officer nearby, “Let us see what loot these space pirates made off with.”
Mr. Piff approached the hatchway where Lissa still peeked up from the ladder. She ducked her head and scrambled toward the hold below before he spotted her. Reaching the bottom, she gestured frantically for the others to hide.
The space officer was lithe as he made his way quickly down, his ray pistol drawn and held to the ready. Lissa and the others peered out at him from a cracked inner door, and the bot translated as the alien reported back up in squeaky tones, “Naught but empty cells here, Captain! She’s a slaver ship, no doubt of it.”
He went on a little further to where the octopus tank still stood full of Earth saltwater, “We’ve got a live one here, Captain. Looks like an Europan. Little guy—blue-ring by the look of him.”
“See if you can establish communication,” came the order from above, “Do they have a Translator?”
“Negative, Captain,” Piff said after a moment of searching about.
“Very well,” the Patrol Captain sounded resigned, “We’ll haul them into port and let HQ sort it out. Blasted space pirates,” he grumbled.
Piff began to turn away from the octopus tank and Lissa ducked back.
“Hold it,” Piff said. Lissa winced. Had he seen her?
“What is it?”
“I have motion in the crew quarters off the main cargo bay.” Lissa felt tight and smothered. Glancing behind her, she saw there was no other exit to the room they were in. What would he do when he caught them?
“Investigate,” came the order, “Be careful, Mr. Piff.”
Lissa retreated from the doorway, gesturing frantically for the others to scoot back. Eyes wide in the darkness, Shika obeyed, hauling Ash by one arm and Shiro by the other. Stephanie tried to disappear into a corner behind them. Lissa held her breath.
Through the sliver in the door Lissa watched as Mr. Piff crept nearer, his ray pistol out in front of him. She closed her eyes, wondering again what he would do when he caught them, and then something made her open them again. These creatures obviously did not approve of slavery and piracy, and she was the victim here. Why was she hiding? Standing erect, she pushed the door open, slowly so as not to startle the officer into firing preemptively, and said, “Don’t shoot, we’re unarmed.”
Mr. Piff seemed startled. It must have been odd to see a girl standing in the lighted corridor staring calmly down at him, and his four eyes narrowed at the sight of the other Earthlings crouched in various positions behind her, but he recovered quickly and spoke in a civil tone, “Are you members of the ship’s crew?”
“No,” Lissa shook her head, “We were the ones in those cells.” She pointed behind him at the now-empty glass rooms.
“I see,” said Mr. Piff. He still held his radio, “Medical, report to the cargo bay. Five escaped slaves,” He added apologetically to Lissa, “I have to make sure you’re not carrying planet-diseases.”
“Oh!” Lissa knew enough about anatomy to realize that her body might carry microbes that an alien’s immune system was not accustomed to. She settled back against the bulkhead to wait.
It did not take long. Another meerkat-looking creature scampered down the ladder with a pack on his back, plopped it down beside them and went to work taking samples of their sweat, hair, saliva, etc. Only when he was satisfied that they carried no harmful disease did the Medic give a nod to Mr. Piff.
Snapping to attention, Mr. Piff said quite formally, “Allow me to introduce myself,” he bowed stiffly, “The name is Piff—Arthur Piff.”
Lissa hesitated, and then gave a sort of half-curtsy bow in return, “Melissa Phelps,” she offered, “but everyone calls me Lissa.”
Shika stepped forward, followed by Ash. Lissa half turned and jerked her head at Stephanie, “This is my best friend Stephanie Wu, we were captured together. The taller girl there is Shika of the Mursi people of Earth, and her brother Ash,” she nodded toward the last boy, “That’s Shiro of the Kazakh people, and this is Lollipop.” She grinned at this last, patting the bright pink alien affectionately.
“A pleasure to meet you all,” Mr. Piff squeaked.
“So,” Lissa said hesitantly looking him up and down, “You guys are from outer space, right?”
Mr. Piff looked gravely at her, “Regulations forbid us from making First Contact beyond introductions with indigenous primitive races.”
“Um, okay,” Lissa was unsure what he meant exactly, but not wanting to piss off the large warrior rodent she tried again, “So, are you here to rescue us?” she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
Mr. Piff shuffled his feet now in an embarrassed sort of way, “Not exactly,” he said apologetically.
“But you’re definitely anti-slavery,” Lissa commented, trying to reassure herself.
“Space Patrol exists to ensure the ethical behavior of sentient species in the universe,” this voice came from the ladder as the Patrol Captain descended. Lissa scooted over in the tight corridor to give him room, and then gave a short bow of respect in his direction. It seemed the thing to do, with all the alien manners she had observed so far.
“Well, slavery is unethical,” she countered, prepared to debate the point.
“I agree with you,” the Captain rebutted calmly, “However the Galactic Trade Company which runs this sector does not consider slavery to be illegal so long as it conforms with certain regulations. We are bound to uphold the legal codes of the system in which we operate.”
“So you will allow us to be taken?” That was Shiro, his chin up in a regal tilt of his head, voice demanding.
“If you were seized legally, there is nothing I can do,” the strength of his sorrow dissipated Lissa’s affront.
“But if we were captured illegally?” she asked cleverly, scenting a loophole.
“Then you are free to go, and we will enforce the laws against kidnapping and piracy. Captain Nask would be spaced.”
“Spaced?” Stephanie asked, bewildered by the term. It was the first word she had spoken since they were captured, and Lissa reached out and gripped her friend’s hand tightly, grateful for the other girl’s presence.
“Shoved out an airlock without a mask or protection,” It was clear from his tone of voice that Mr. Piff was grimly delighted by the idea, “Instant but painful execution.”
“Wow, you guys don’t mess around,” Lissa muttered. Stephanie gave her hand a tight squeeze.
“How do we know if our enslavement was legal or not?” Ash wondered practically. He thumped his spear on the metal plates of the corridor floor to bring them back to the point.
“My men are checking on this right now,” the Patrol Captain assured them, “Judging by the resistance we met in boarding, it is highly likely you are not Captain Nask’s legal property.”
“And what qualifies as a legal capture of slaves?” Shiro’s question was almost philosophical, as though his interest were purely academic.
“In order to be legal, a slave must be either purchased with legal tender from a world government, or captured from a primitive planet,” Mr. Piff recited.
Lissa looked nervously at the Mursi. Earth was almost certainly a primitive planet by space standards. Why, most of their populace still believed there was no such thing as space travel! Aliens were the things of bedtime stories and sci-fi movies.
“We just elected a World Government only a few months ago,” she admitted reluctantly, “But our constitution states that slavery is illegal on Earth. I’m pretty sure our President didn’t sell us to him,” she added doubtfully.
“Wait, you came from this planet? Earth?” The Patrol Captain sounded excited, or at least the bot’s translation made it seem so.
“Yeah,” Lissa answered slowly, “Does that matter?”
“Damn right it does!” Mr. Piff crowed excitedly, looking over his shoulder at his senior officer, “We’ve got them now, don’t we Captain!”
“What is it?” Shika demanded, “What does that mean?”
“Earth has long been considered a Protected Planet,” the Patrol Captain explained, “Per the laws of space, you were not to be contacted until Man had proved himself to be a civilized world—that is, until you had a World Government. Since that has now been formed, Captain Nask ought to have offered your people a chance to become GTC clientele. If he did not…”
“If he didn’t then we’re free!” Lissa interjected excitedly.
“More than that,” Mr. Piff added, “If you were kidnapped and denied the opportunity to join the galactic community, heavy fines will be levied against him. You could possibly claim his ship in compensation.”
“Whoa! You mean, we could own a space ship?” Lissa cried. She looked around at the cargo bay. This would make a great merchant vessel if they converted the cells to storage spaces. The glass hallway would be like a show room.
“I know how to sail,” she piped excitedly.
“Astral navigation is somewhat more complicated than ocean cruising, but the principles are the same in a ship such as this,” the Patrol Captain assured her, “Your Europan companion would certainly be an asset if you chose to take to the stars.”
“So octopi really can navigate?” Shiro inquired of the Captain, “I overheard the pirate explaining this.”
“Indeed, most are quite skilled at it,” Mr. Piff answered, “That one is rather young, I believe,” he peered into the water tank beside them and gave a polite nod to the octopus.
“Having arranged for his release from slavery you will likely find him a most willing crew member,” the Captain added wryly.
At just that moment, the top button on his lapel blinked and gave a short beep. He lifted it toward his mouth and spoke rapidly into it. The translator bot, ignoring this private conversation, was silent at Lissa’s left. The Captain listened, and when they were done he said, “There it is. You are indeed illegal slaves of Captain Arol Nask and I pronounce you freed by the laws of space.” He gave a formal bow in Lissa’s direction, having decided apparently that she, being the main spokesperson of their small group, was also its leader.
“Hurrah!” Stephanie squealed. She hugged Lissa in relief, “Let’s go home. I never want to fly again.”
“Or eat sushi,” Ash muttered.
Lissa heard a commotion from above. She needed no Translator to tell her Captain Nask was protesting at the top of his lungs. The five children followed the Patrol Captain as he climbed the rungs of the ladder up to the deck.
The assembled pirates were lashed to the foremast in various states of chagrin. Captain Nask had apparently been speaking separately to one of the officials, and as they watched he was dragged away from his crew.
An officer of the Patrol extended a plank out from the rail in solemn formality.Two others on either side of him saluted. Captain Nask was shoved between them, cursing loudly all the while. He stood on the edge of the plank, his eyes fixed in a glare of rage and fear at the officer who tended the rail.
“What’s happening?” Lissa asked Mr. Piff who had come to stand beside her.
“Captain Nask has been found guilty of illegal enslavement, theft, mayhem and firing on a licensed law enforcement ship. The penalty is execution by ejection,” Mr. Piff said solemnly.
“You’re going to execute him?” Lissa rounded on the shorter alien, horrified, “Just like that?”
“The evidence is incontrovertible,” If she was not mistaken, the alien looked rather surprised, “Would you have us wait until he does it again?”
Lissa stared numbly out across the deck toward the scene that was unfolding. He would have sold us. She reminded herself, Or made us into ground meat for some alien restaurant.
Yet the sight was truly horrifying. Captain Nask fought savagely, throwing his weight against the smaller Patrolmen who shoved him onward. He was on the plank now, fighting to go back. One meerkat zapped him with a prong that sizzled at one end. He fell to the ground with a thud, only to rouse instantly and swipe out at the creature. Three others pressed him back, wielding prongs of their own. At last he was up against the airlock. An officer barked an order and the other Patrolmen fell back. Nask snarled at them all, but remained where he was. A sort of desperation lit his features so starkly that Lissa could hardly bear it.
“Wait!” She cried, “Isn’t there some other way?”
“We are bound to follow the laws of the galaxy we inhabit,” Mr. Piff said. His face was stern, but Lissa could see pain in his eyes, as though the necessity of punishing the pirate wounded him.
Now Nask was within the airlock chamber. The officer pressed a button and the plank on which the pirate captain stood shot out until it extended beyond the transparent dome that held in the pressurized atmosphere of the ship. Lissa turned away. She saw Stephanie who had buried her face in Shika’s shoulder. The tribal girl was staring at the proceedings with wide eyes. Ash stood just beyond his sister, a tight grip on his spear and a vengeful gleam in his eyes. Lissa shuddered and averted her gaze.
“Thus is the end of Captain Arol Nask,” Mr. Piff whispered softly.
Lissa glanced at him. She wasn’t sure what emotion she felt exactly. The Captain had tried to sell her as an alien hors d’oeuvre, or whatever the space equivalent was. Yet, she had never seen anyone die before. Space Patrol seemed to execute justice with unnerving precision.
“We have heard further word,” The Patrol Captain touched her shoulder as she turned, meaning to retreat below.
“Your government appears to have not received any invitation to join the Galactic Trade Company. A message is being broadcast to the nearest Representative informing him of your new status and a visit should be forthcoming shortly.”