Van Gar looked silently around the room at the scattered beer bottles and cigar butts, then he looked Drew up and down.
"You're right," he said, nodding his head slowly."It's time I went back to my people." He turned and started to walk away slowly. Drew followed."I ran into a Chitzsky at the last port. He told me my people are building a colony on the planet Utarus. I think that's what's been calling me. I want to go there to be part of building a new world for my people . . ."
"Are you fucking kidding me, Van? Ah, come on . . . I mean all right, maybe the midget and the goat were a bit much . . ." He just kept walking, and Drew had to practically run to keep up. She laughed and slapped him on the back."Come on, man, snap out of it . . . So there was a goat in our bed room. Is that really any reason to leave? To go off on some cockamamie bullshit religious pilgrimage? Come on, Van . . . I mean really . . . farming and praying and watching herd animals graze. That's not for you. You're a salvager. You're my mate. Do you really want to trade all of this . . ." she motioned around the disheveled ship as she followed him down the hall '. . . for some motionless piece of dirt? Trapped in one spot, never again to float out amongst the stars?"
He stopped and turned to look at her.
"What's here for me Drew? To be your lackey? Make me a full partner in our relationship and in the business, or I swear I'm out of here."
So, that was it. Nothing in the world but a bluff. A con to try and get part of her business. Well, she was the Queen of Bluff and the best grifter in the galaxy, maybe the universe.
Two could play at his game.
Drewcila seemed to think about it a minute, at one point holding both hands up mumbling to herself and acting like she was a scale. When it tipped all the way to one side she looked at Van Gar, shrugged, put her wrist-com to her mouth and pressed the button.
"Prepare Van Gar's ship for takeoff." She lowered her hand and looked at Van Gar."It's been swell. Have a good trip, farm boy. Take Frank with you. He can bring my ship back after he drops you where you're goin'."
Van Gar's jaw dropped as he watched her turn on her heel and walk away puffing on her cigar. A large green-toned alien of undetermined sex or origin stumbled by, and she grabbed it by the arm and started dragging it back to her room. Not that it really seemed to be putting up much of a fight.
Van Gar turned on his heel and stomped off the ship.
"He did what?" Drewcila screamed.
"He left," Jurak, first mate of the ship, said as he cringed, fearing her reaction.
Drewcila slumped into her command chair on the deck resting her chin in her hand as she leaned against the arm looking thoughtful.
"Damn! That didn't go at all as I had planned," she mumbled. Finally she took a deep breath and let it out."He wasn't supposed to do that. What the hell has happened to that man? I don't understand him at all. I mean he was supposed to come back, kiss my ass, and beg for my forgiveness. He wasn't supposed to leave. Has he gone completely mad?" The crewman started to answer."Don't answer me, you moron! That was a rhetorical question. Please, don't tell me he has charted for the Harish System."
"He did."
"What did I just say!? Crap, what an idiot!" Drew took a deep breath and started punching buttons on her console mindlessly.
Jurak just stood there, not quite knowing whether to leave or stay and what to do if he did either.
"What the fuck is this?" Drew screamed, slamming her fist into her console."Our stock is plummeting." She started punching buttons more carefully now."What the hell happened?"
He looked over her shoulder at the read out.
"Your majesty . . . it would appear that the Barions have gone to war with the Lockhedes again," he answered shakily.
"Well ain't this just a zippidy-doo-da day."
"Are you fucking insane?!" she thundered at the image that filled her screen.
"I will not be party to making deals with the Lockhedes," Zarco replied sharply.
"I didn't say anything about a damn party. Gods! You're such a fucking stupid idiot!" Drew continued, "The agreement would have served us as well as them. Would have made us trillions. Now, instead, it's going to cost us, and cost us dearly. I've already lost two million iggys. Don't you understand economics at all? We weren't in an economic depression. War is murder on a booming economy."
"My job is to run the country with dignity and pride. I don't take orders from the Lockhedes or you . . ."
"Your job is to sit on the throne and look pretty. Remember, that's what we all decided because as I already said you are an idiot. Far too moronic to be allowed to run something as important as a country. Hell, I'm surprised you can wipe yourself without winding up in deep shit," Drew spat back.
"I will not have you talking to me this way, Drewcila. You are my wife. I am King of all Barious . . ."
"You are king of the half of Barious that the Lockhedes don't hold, you pompous ass, and if you don't play your cards right, you won't even have that," Drew said."And don't you start ordering me around because I am married to you—I can make your life a living hell."
"Drewcila!" The veins were popping out in his neck, and his face was getting red. She seemed to be having that effect on the men in her life lately."You had better learn a little respect."
"You're right." Drewcila smiled."I shouldn't make fun of the idiots. You stop this war, Zarco, and you stop it right this minute. Do you have any idea what the war machine costs? You kiss the Lockhedes' ass, you make trade agreements with them, and you do it right now, before my stock plummets even one more point."
"I most certainly will not. Perhaps if you hadn't turned our war machines into scrap metal and our munitions plants into recycling centers, it wouldn't be so costly. Believe it or not, this is my country, mine . . ."
"All right, all right. Damn! What a crappy mood you're in. Let's say I screw you. Will you let me have my way then?"
There was a slight pause before the king's retort."I swear, Drewcila! You are the foulest, most vile woman . . ."
"Yeah, yeah I know. Ya wanna fuck for it or not?"
"Most certainly not. I will not sell my country's future to sleep with my own wife."
"Fine, but it's your loss." She racked her brain trying to think of some other tactic. Giving up, she yelled, "Damn it, Zarco! If I have to come to that planet, you're going to be damn sorry!"
Zarco had no doubt that Drewcila could make him sorry; she usually did. He watched as her face faded from the screen. He paced the floor for a few minutes, trying to regain his composure and slow his breathing pattern. Having a sudden brain storm, he turned to look at Stasha."You will dress up like Drewcila and go on TV . . . back up my speech. The people love her. They'll do whatever she says. In order to discredit your words she would have to admit to her little ruse—that she is rarely on the planet and uses you to talk to them—which would turn the people against her so that they will quit worshiping her. I will write your speech at once . . ."
"I won't do it, Zarco," Stasha said with conviction."Drewcila is right, and I will not help you lead our kingdom into war."
"Stasha . . . Drewcila only cares about profits."
"And Facto's point is valid. What serves Qwah-Co ultimately serves the people. You aren't thinking clearly."
"I have never been any clearer on anything in my life!" Zarco looked near to the hair-pulling stage."Can you believe her!" Zarco walked over and flopped into his throne looking up at Facto and Stasha."She actually thinks that I would make policy which affects the entire nation in exchange for sexual favors. Tawdry and ridiculous!"
Stasha's face seemed to crumble then."Don't think that I missed the hesitation in your voice, Zarco." She turned on her heel and ran out of the room crying. Zarco sighed and got to his feet."Stasha, Stasha please." He went after her. At the door he turned to look at Facto."It is easier to run the country than it is to attend to the problems of my own house."
Facto nodded silently and watched Zarco go. He certainly wouldn't want to be in the king's shoes. He understood that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to separate one's personal feelings from kingdom affairs, but as the leader of their country he should be able to put the kingdom's best interests above his own personal feelings. He was letting his heart rule his head, and a leader could never afford that luxury. Zarco's very righteous anger for the Lockhedes was causing him to tread the path to war. Drewcila had seen the Lockhedes' requests as a way to make more profit, and—though she'd never readily admit it to any of them—a chance for a real and lasting peace. As Drew had tried to explain to Zarco, peace equaled profit, and profit equaled peace.
Once again, Facto found himself in the position of having to side with Drewcila, not exactly a very comfortable position for him to be in.
As soon as he was sure Zarco was well out of hearing range, he slipped to the door of the king's office and looked out, making sure that no one else was about. Then he went back to the king's computer and hailed Drew. If they were suspicious of Facto, they'd certainly check transmissions from his computer, but whoever checked up on the king? He'd done this in the past, and, so far, none were the wiser.
The king was no leader, and Drewcila . . . well, she was always off planet gallivanting across the universe. Someone had to be concerned about the fate of the kingdom, and more often than not that duty fell to him.
"Ah, Fucktoe," Drewcila cooed."How are you today? Did you find something particularly dull and of no interest whatsoever to bother me with, or has it been an unusually boring day . . . ?"
"Since I am going behind my king's back at the risk of my very life, do you think you might refrain from butchering my name with vulgar salvager profanities and making fun of basically my entire life?" Facto asked with a sigh.
Drew shrugged."I suppose I could, but it wouldn't be as much fun. I thought this was a done deal. That you had convinced Zardumb that trade with the Lockhedes would bring about a real and lasting peace, yada, yada, yada."
"I thought I had. Then yesterday morning . . . Well, he just seemed to wake up determined not to give in. And once the Lockhedes had declared war . . . you can't expect him to give in to them now," Facto said.
"Actually, yes I can. God! Why are men so stupid?" she started pacing in and out of the monitor's range, which was very irritating to say the least."First Van Gar and now Zarco. Are all men such idiots, or is it only men that I become involved with? Perhaps all the really great sex I give them starves their brains for oxygen until they become stupid. I don't know of course, because I don't remember, but I have a feeling Zarco has always been a moron . . ."
Feeling forgotten, Facto cleared his throat."My Queen, do you think you could speak to the matter at hand? My time is limited. Every minute we speak is a minute I put myself at risk of being found out."
"I thought I
was
speaking to the matter at hand." Drewcila turned her attention back to the monitor, looked thoughtful for a moment, and then threw her hands in the air and exclaimed, "I can't think like this!"
"Like what?"
"Sober!"
His screen went blank, and Facto was left with all the problems of state as his king went off to try to explain himself to his sister-in-law/lover, and his queen went off on a drunken toot.
Van Gar looked around the space station then back at his ship.
"Finally we will have a new world. A place for us, and only for us," a Chitzsky male almost as big as Van Gar was booming. He, like most of the Chitzskies gathered around him, wore simple white robes draped over one shoulder. Van Gar had never seen so many of his own people in one place."We will create a world of peace far away from the barbaric races. We will leave behind the turmoil and strife of our life in the stars and once again return to being the creatures of the earth that we were intended to be. No more will we be a scattered people with no homeland. We will leave behind all the possessions of this world and fly off to our new life, our new destination, clean and pure. To Utarus!"
Van Gar didn't hear much after that. He kept looking around at his people with a feeling of awe. He was being offered a chance to do something that really mattered. A simple life of peace and tranquility, far away from Drew and her scams. He could live in truth, prospering by the work of his hands instead of always hanging by the seat of his pants. Perhaps he would once again find love, and this time with a worthy and monogamous woman of his own race. Of course if he gave the "Pride leader" one of Drewcila's ships, he'd damn well better go off to some distant and remote world. Because if Drewcila ever caught up with him she'd no doubt kill him. Frank told him this about a hundred times as Van Gar was tying him to a pole in the bay of a loading dock.
Before you could say "convert," Van Gar was wearing the simple white toga, no shoes, no weapon, had signed over the ship and all his belongings, and was in the cargo bay of a freighter with a thousand other Chitzskies heading for the remote, unconquered planet called Utarus.