Chapter 11
They walked through the massive iron gate and slowly. The city streets were wide and completely cleared of snow. And like the terrain outside the city walls, the streets also looked barren and lifeless. Not a soul could be found.
"It's getting really cold again," Lach'et noted.
Buck nodded. "It doesn't take long to get cold again once that sun goes down. We need to find somewhere quick to warm up and maybe get something to eat."
For nearly half an hour they walked down the center of the street before they saw a small hooded figure come out of a lit building. Buck quickly approached the figure.
"Excuse me, could you—"
The figure quickly turned and disappeared down a back alley. Buck turned to face Lach'et. "Not very friendly, are they?"
"Well you said they weren't hospitable."
Soon another small figure appeared on the street. "Pardon me, could you—"
This time the figure stopped only long enough to look at the stranger. Buck thought he saw some facial features hiding underneath the heavy hood before the figure continued his journey past the newcomers.
"Are they all that rude? And short? I could have sworn that kid had a beard."
After several more similar encounters, Buck noticed a large group of shapes walking quickly in their direction. He took a deep breath and sighed heavily.
"Here comes the welcome wagon."
When the large procession approached Buck and Lach'et, a dozen of the small statured figures pulled rifles out of their cloaks and aimed at them. Among the small figures was one taller man in a long cloak.
"Please come with us," he said forcefully.
"Gladly if it leads to somewhere warmer," Buck said.
"And with food," Lach'et added.
The man didn't respond. Instead he merely turned and began down the street. Buck and Lach'et followed the hooded figure down the street for half an hour before they finally turned into a large building. They were led into a large open, well-lit room. The warmth of the room was short-lived as the twelve armed men circled the room around Buck and Lach'et. The tall man unbuttoned his cloak to reveal that he had been standing on eighteen inch stilts. He stepped down from his loft and approached the only piece of furniture in the room, a small desk opposite the door. After placing his rifle on the desk, he sat down and propped his elbows on the desk. Absent mindedly he began to finger his long, white beard.
"Tell me your name," he ordered.
Buck held up a finger. "Hold on, a minute. My lips are frozen," he mumbled.
The old man sighed heavily. He snapped a finger and one of the guards approached Buck and raised his rifle.
"I'll not repeat myself again."
Buck nodded instantly. "My name is…Brooks. Mel Brooks."
"And you?"
Lach'et glanced at Buck out of the corner of her eye. "La…LaTonya," she said as she sniffled.
The old man simply nodded. "And what about the boy on your back?"
Buck stared at the man blankly for only a moment. "Oh, right. That's my son Twiki. He doesn't speak. Never has. He was born without vocal chords."
"Uh-huh," the old man said dubiously. "And why are you here? Outsiders such as yourselves are not allowed on this planet."
Buck nodded, smirked slightly. "Yeah, it's funny you should ask that. We're just on our honeymoon, me and LaTonya. My navigation console got kind of messed up and malfunctioned. Basically, we didn't know where we were. We're lost. And before we could figure out where we were, the ship ran out of fuel. I landed the ship about two miles that way," he lied as he pointed in the direction in which they had come. "It was a long walk to get here, too. Man, does it get cold out there. By the way, where is here? What planet is this?"
The old man sighed heavily again. "If you are just married, where did he come from ?" he pointed towards the heavily bundled shape on Buck's back.
"Another marriage," Buck explained. "His mother was killed a couple years ago."
"How?"
Buck took a deep breath, lowered his head. "Draconians. They attacked my town a couple years ago."
"Uh-huh," he said again. This is the planet of Bertram. We do not take well to unwelcomed visitors. And you are an unwelcome visitor. Why didn't we see your ship landing on any of our sensors?"
"Huh?" Buck asked, shrugged. "Oh, sorry about that. I must have left that stealth drive system on again. See I'm a… shipper, if you know what I mean, and sometimes I get into places where I'm really not supposed to be."
He looked at Lach'et. Why are you dressed funny?"
She looked at her clothing indignantly. "What's wrong with the clothes I have on?"
"They're not yours."
"Ah," she replied, nodding. "Yeah, you're right. I'm wearing a bunch of Mel's clothes. I wasn't exactly ready to do a bunch of hiking through the snow."
Buck put his arm around Lach'et's shoulder. "We weren't planning on wearing that many clothes on this whole trip, if you know what I mean!"
"Uh-huh." The old man sighed heavily again. He looked at Buck. "Take off your sweater."
"Huh?"
"Your sweater."
Buck hesitated, remembering what he was wearing underneath his outer layer of clothing. "But it's still cold in here. I haven't warmed up yet."
The guard cocked his rifle. Buck took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Okay, but you're not gonna like it."
Buck reached into his sweater and swiftly pulled out his pistol. He aimed it directly at the old man across the desk who immediately began to laugh. Buck's eyes widened in alarm.
"Okay, that wasn't supposed to happen."
"Go ahead and fire," said the old man. "Your weapons here are useless. The cold air here almost immediately drains all energy based weapons," he laughed.
Buck pulled the trigger to no avail. His shoulders slumped as he tossed the pistol onto the desk. He looked at the old man who merely pointed towards the sweater. Buck sighed, shook his head. After setting Twiki down on the floor, he took his sweater off to reveal the uniform Lach'et had acquired for him. The old man simply nodded.
"That's a B'Linton royal guard uniform."
Buck nodded.
"You are the one who shot down three of our fighters yesterday before crash landing in the mountains."
Again Buck nodded. "I can explain," he started.
"Silence!" the old man bellowed. "Guards, take them away… all of them. Take them to the cells upstairs. I must report this to the High Commander at once."
"But let me explain!"
"It is too late for that. You will be tried and executed at dawn. Take them away."
Buck threw up his arms in frustration as he turned to Lach'et. "Well, that could've gone better."
She shot him a glance. "Do ya think?" she said sarcastically as the guards quietly but quickly led them out of the room.
