The Reluctant Pirate: 9/?
by Linda Garrick and Nancy Smith
Chapter 10
After he had gone, Trevor and Jason turned wordlessly to stare at one another. Trevor spoke first.
"What the hell happened? After I left you stayed linked with me for a while. Then the link went away, and didn't come back 'til old Granger started pulling on your arm, I take it His Lordship was pretty decent to you, huh?"
Jason nodded emphatically. "He's a pirate, Trev!"
"Yeah, I know.” Trevor sounded less than enthusiastic.
"You know? How?"
"I heard the Arcturian call him Lord Blashvor."
"So?"
Trevor shrugged. "Everyone on Corala knows about Blashvor, the Pirate. He has a half brother named Dishvor, who's also a pirate. There's a pretty generous reward out for both of them."
"But he was nice."
"Nice, huh? What's he want out of you?"
"Want? He didn't say that he wanted anything,"
"Then why has he gone to so much trouble to get his hands on you, Shorty?"
"Trouble?"
"I'd guess that he's been after you for some time. I’ll bet anything he was the Jil you thought you sensed right after we came out of hyperspace over Bellian."
Jason nodded slowly. "You might be right."
"That means he's been keeping tabs on us for some time: probably the whole time we were on Bellian, I'd say. Oh, he probably wasn't there. He sent some of his flunkies to check us out and decide whether we were worth having. Then they grabbed us. So what does he want with us?"
"I don't know." Jason glanced uncertainly at Trevor. "He said something to me about taking the place of a guy named Roland, who'd gotten killed."
"Oh yeah?”
"Yeah. And Granger told me on the way back to our room -- before he got really mean -- that they'd brought you along just for amusement." Jason gulped. "Because you were a 'trol once."
Trevor swallowed and nodded. "I thought that might be the reason."
"But it's okay now. Lord Blashvor promised me you'd be safe, as long as I didn't try to get away again."
"You promised him that?"
"Yes. He --" Jason shivered again in memory. "He said he had no reason to keep you alive. I didn't know what else to do. I told him that I'd never try to get away again, and do whatever he said."
Trevor scowled at him. "But what's he want you to do?"
"I don't know."
"It's got to have something to do with your talent. It sure can't be your looks."
Jason made a face at him. "Oh, I don't know. That pretty Lady Jil thought I was kind of cute."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. She liked my freckles and my hair. Then Blashvor told her to leave me alone -- at least, that's what I think he said. She got up and left, all in a huff."
Trevor chuckled and then sobered. "So what does he want you for? Money? You're probably worth a lot by now."
Jason gulped. "If it's money, why didn't they just turn me in to the cops back on Bellian?"
"These are pirates, pal. If they're going to turn in a fugitive for the reward, they won't do it directly. They can't. There's a reward out for Blashvor, and probably for some of his minions, too. No, they'd have to get someone to do it for them -- someone, who didn't know who they were."
"Do you think that's what they have in mind?"
"I don't know. Who was this Roland guy? Did Blashvor say?"
"Just that he was a psychic."
"That's no help. What else did he say?"
"He said he wouldn't hurt me, unless I tried to escape again, and he said that he was going to teach me to use my powers. When I asked him why he wasn't going to kill us, he said something about wasted potential, and kind of sneered at the Autonomy, and their policy toward Terran psychics. I don't know, of course, but I think he was telling the truth."
Trevor was silent for a long moment, studying the bulkhead.
"Trev?”
"Yeah, Shorty?"
"Why do you think he wants us?"
"I don't know, kid. I don't think he wants me for anything. It's you he's interested in. I don't think he gave a damn if his flunkies killed me, if you want the truth. They were sure a lot nicer to you than they were to me, probably because Blashvor told 'em to treat you decent, and probably didn't say a thing about me. After he'd probed me, he was done. But for some reason he wants your good will, and if that includes keeping me alive, he's willing to go along with it."
Jason nodded. "I think you're right. He was awfully nice to me -- nothing at all like Rakinxvor. I even spilled wine on him accidentally, and he didn't do anything. I half expected him to slap me around. I've heard stories about Jils, and the way they treat their servants."
"Hasn't everyone?" Trevor sighed and shrugged fatalistically. "Let's eat. I'm starved."
"Okay," Jason said. "I'm hungry, too."
Chapter 11
Trevor relaxed back in his seat and took a sip of wine, studying Jason soberly. The little boy had fallen asleep with his head on the table, his face practically in his plate. Poor little guy was shot, and the wine Blashvor had given him had finished him off. It'd been a tough week, all right.
Trevor sipped from the glass. The wine was very good -- soothing and soft to the palate. Languidly he glanced at the bottle. Riskellian moonwine, and ten years old! Wow! Only the high ranking members of the Patrol drank stuff this good, and even they not very often. Blashvor was certainly making their captivity very pleasant all of a sudden.
The thought was disquieting. The Jil had designs on Jason, that was for sure, but what were they?
The Procyon servant entered softly and approached the table. "Wash everything to your Shatishfaction, Corporal?
"Yeah, it was great. Thanks."
The Procyon inclined its ragged head. Jason started suddenly and jerked upright.
"It's okay, kid. Just Le Frit."
"Oh." Jason's face relaxed and he smiled at the alien. "Hi, Le Frit."
"Shir." The Procyon inclined his head again, then scratched, sprinkling dandruff on the carpet. Jason stood up quickly. "I think I’ll hit the sack."
The Procyon took a quick step backward, hand going to the short knife at his belt. "You will do what?"
Jason laughed. "It's just an expression, Le Frit. I think I'll go to bed."
"Ah!" The Procyon cleaned the table. "I thought, perhapsh, that I was the shack of which you shpoke." He scratched again, and his claws came together on something which he paused to examine, then crushed dispassionately. Trevor’s scalp began to itch, and he saw Jason rub his own head uneasily.
The servant didn't notice. He was assembling the dishes on a wheeled cart and wiping the tabletop. "You wish to keep the wine, shir?"
"Yeah, if it's okay."
"Perfectly okay, shir, Hish Lordship ish well shupplied with that particular vintage." He covered the glowing tabletop with a gold embroidered cloth edged with pearls and went out, guiding the cart before him. The door clicked shut.
Jason scratched behind his left ear. "Trev, what’s the matter with that guy?"
Trevor shrugged. "Looks like a bad case of red mite."
"Red mite? Sounds terrible."
"It ish -- I mean is, dammit! They’re little red bugs, and hard as hell to get rid of. Procyons get them -- only Procyons, so don't worry. The little beggars don't like Terrans a bit. They won't get on you."
"It looks awful!"
"I know. Lots of Procyons get 'em, though, and, like old Le Frit, there, they don't seem to care. I remember we had an owl in the Patrol who had it. He used to shampoo his feathers whenever our sarge got after him about it, which was just about every day. Poor old S'Voot never did get rid of them, although he sure looked better than this guy."
"Yuk!" Jason shuddered, "I think I'll take a shower."
"Yeah, me too." Trevor scratched his upper lip. "Man! I need a shave. Do you suppose our buggy little servant will supply me with a razor?"
"They probably don't have any on board. Do pirates shave?"
"I don't know. An awful lot of them seem to have beards."
"Blashvor's clean shaven," Jason said. Trevor grinned tolerantly at him.
"Blashvor'll always be clean shaven. Jils don't grow beards."
"Oh." Jason flushed. "Of course. I knew that."
Trevor glanced around the room. "I don't see anything that looks like a com or a call bell. Dammit! I'd sure like a shave!"
Jason went to the door and tried it. "He's locked it. I could open it. You think I should?"
Trevor considered. "Better not. I don't want to end up like Granger. Should have asked him while he was here, I guess.”
Jason was concentrating. “Trev, could you come here a minute?”
“Sure.” Trevor went to stand beside him. Jason reached out almost absently and touched his wrist. “Kid, what are you doing?”
“You agree that it would be more dangerous to try to get away than just to stay put, don’t you?”
“Yeah, for now, anyway, so what are you thinking?”
Jason made a satisfied sound. “Got it!”
“Got what?”
“There was an alarm rigged to the door. I just disabled it.”
“But --”
“And unlocked the door.”
“Shorty, are you crazy?”
“No. Think about it. When they come to get me the next time, the door will be open and the alarm disarmed, and we’ll still be here. What better way to show them we're not going anywhere?”
Trevor hesitated.
“And maybe,” Jason said slowly, “it’ll make other people like that Granger guy think twice before bullying us around again, if we show we’re not afraid to use the powers we have.”
Trevor nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. It isn’t the strong who get picked on, is it?
Jason grinned at him. “Every school kid knows that. Too bad some of the folks who run the schools aren’t as smart.”
Trevor chuckled. “Well, you blew some folks away already when you took off those security bars. You won respect from our Arcturian guard when you did that, you know.”
“I did?”
“Sure. Nobody can unfasten security bars, at least nobody I ever heard of, except maybe Westover. There's a rumor he's taken 'em off, but I never really believed it before. They’re telekinetic-proof -- made that way on purpose, just like the Patrol restrainers. But you got ‘em off, and it beats me how you did it.”
“It wasn’t very hard,” Jason said, remembering. “Oh, some harder than untying the ropes and unlocking the door, but not much.”
Trevor shook his head in disbelief. “Kid, if I was a member of this pirate bunch, I’d be real respectful of you. Good thing I know what a softy you really are.”
Jason laughed, aiming a punch at him. Trevor caught his arm, trying to bring it behind him into a Patrol armlock, but the boy anticipated his move and twisted skillfully away, almost managing to free himself, Trevor snatched for him, and employed another Patrol maneuver. Again he was astonished to find the boy deftly applying leverage to the weakest point of his hold. Jason's heel caught him behind the leg, and for a moment his balance wavered.
"Hey!" Trevor caught Jason's wrist tighter and wrestled him to the deck, finding it a far more difficult task than he had anticipated. Twice more Jason almost freed himself, but at last the Corporal managed to pin him down. Jason squirmed, giggling and panting, then yipped as Trevor applied pressure to a bent wrist. "Ouch! Okay, uncle!"
Trevor got up and lifted Jason to his feet with one hand. "Hey! You really do know judo!"
"My dad was a black belt. He taught me.”
"You're really good. Like to show me some of that?"
"Can I take my shower first?"
"Sure, go ahead. You need it. Your face is sort of polk-a-dotted. I guess I should have made you wash before you ate."
Jason made a face at him and headed for the bathroom.
**********
tbc
