Chapter 2--Blindsided

A/N: Chapter 2. Ta-dah. Thanks very much to wordsofjade for the cool review!

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Thanks to B.E.N's constant goofing up, it took us the better part of a half hour to reach the wharf. Along the way, I talked little and worried much.

How was I going to get off Montressor? No captain would offer passage to a runaway apprentice, I could count on that. Well, I could always comandeer a ship--if I wanted to add to my list of laws I've broken. No thanks. I'd figure something out, I told myself. But the more I thought about it, the more I considered dragging my sorry self back to the chandlery.

I didn't even have any money. If I asked to borrow any, I'd be found out. And without money, it'd be pretty tough to get off the planet undiscovered.

I hate money.

"Eek! Agh! Uh, Jimmy--I could use a pit stop!"

I glared at B.E.N. "Now?"

B.E.N. opened his mouth to scream, but I clamped it shut. "Fine! Fine! Whatever!" I whispered. "I'll take you to Halyard's Tavern; it's a block away from here. But you can't scream."

"Ho! Ye with the robot? What are ye doing skulkin' about the wharfs at this hour?" a voice hailed me from behind.

Now I was dead meat. I swore under my breath and turned around, expecting to see a guard. Instead I saw a tall, burly man, hidden in a greatcoat and tricorne hat like me. He shuffled towards me. I was relieved that he wasn't a guard, but it's still not fun to meet a mysterious man at night with no support but an inept navigation system. I shrugged at his question and walked in the opposite direction. "Going to the Tavern," I mumbled, and immediately regretted saying so.

"And is there a tavern nearby, then?" the man rasped, marching at a good clip until he caught up with me. "Well, if ye'd be so kind as to lead an old man there...I got a long overdue appointment with Lady Rum."

I gritted my teeth into a smile. "Okay."

"Lady Rum!" B.E.N. shrieked. "Now, sir, I wonder if you're aware that alcohol has cursonogenic effects--"

"Carcinogenic," I muttered to B.E.N., mentally praying he didn't upset this guy. "And that's smoking."

B.E.N. kept talking. "Yeah, what he said--now, I happen to know that Montressor has a whole slough of support groups--AGH! I'm going to wet myself! We can't get to Halyard's fast enough!"

I jammed my elbow into B.E.N.'s copper side, which probably hurt me more than him, but at least he shut up.

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For the next minutes, as we crept down the soggy roads, all I heard was the annoying sound of B.E.N.'s gears clicking and whirring. By the time we reached Halyard's Tavern, I wondered if one can die of annoyance.

As we walked into Halyard's Tavern, a healthy cloud of tobacco smoke surrounded us. The place was near empty, except for Mr. Halyard and a few men who had nothing better to do at night than sit near the windows smoking pipes for dear life. The stranger in the greatcoat thanked me and moved to the bar, ready to meet Lady Rum. I sat at a table close to the door and waited for B.E.N. to get out of the bathroom. When he came back, I said, "Man, you've got to oil your gears or something, cause you're loud."

B.E.N.'s eyes became a glowing question mark as he sat down. "Huh? I got oiled this afternoon..."

I snorted. "Yeah, right, so if it wasn't your gears I was hearing on the way over here, whose were they?"

"Well..." B.E.N. stammered, still looking confused. "Maybe...the Rolling Frenchman!"

"The Rolling Frenchman?" I stared at him. "This I gotta hear."

"Well, he's...uh...he's the long-lost robotic friend of the Flying Dutchman..."

I laughed sarcastically.

"Okay, there is no Rolling Frenchman, but I swear those weren't my gears you were hearing! I mean, listen!" B.E.N. held his arm up and bent the elbow so hard that he fell out of his chair.

His gears were silent.

The man in the greatcoat migrating towards our table, a frosty bottle of rum in hand. I quickly pulled the collar of my own coat up; if he was going to hide in his coat, so was I. He took a swig directly from the bottle. "Oy, that's good stuff, mate. Got a handle?"

There was no way I was telling this guy my name. I stayed silent, hoping he'd get the message.

After a minute he said, "No handle? Ah, I see. Won't introduce yerself to every man jack, eh? That's well. Means ye're smart."

"Oh, you bet," B.E.N. cut in, eyes glowing a light bulb. "Smartest chap I know."

I bit my lip, relieved that B.E.N. realized I wasn't handing my name out.

"Well, then." The stranger gulped some more rum. I could feel him staring at me. "Ye know, I don't--have we met?"

"Don't think so," I replied shortly.

He shrugged, and pushed himself away from the table, taking the rum with him.

And that stupid sound of gears turning started up again. I glared at B.E.N., who was watching the stranger plod towards the door.

"Oy, sir!" Mr. Halyard shouted from the bar. "You will pay for that!"

"And I will be leavin' directly," the stranger replied, a grin in his voice. He opened the door.

"Hey! Get back here!" Mr. Halyard's meaty face turned purple; he hated getting gypped. "Young man!"

I stiffened as I realized he was looking at me. Still trying to keep my face hidden, I replied, "Yeah?"

"Go stop that rotter! He owes me!"

Great. I jumped out of my chair. "Come on," I snapped at B.E.N.

"I don't chase criminals!" B.E.N pleaded.

I grabbed his arm and rushed out of the Tavern, dragging him behind me. Ahead of us, under the dull light of the streetlamps, the stranger blundered slowly towards the wharf.

"We'll tackle him," I whispered to B.E.N.

He shook his metal head. "I'm weak."

"You need a better excuse than that."

"I have to go to the bathroom again!"

"Oh, like fun, you do." Still hanging on to B.E.N.'s arm, I broke into a run. He shrieked as we barreled towards the stranger. As we got closer, I threw my arms forward, ready to tackle the guy.

Just as we reached the stranger, he turned, his left hand held out. I crashed into the hand and stumbled back. B.E.N. clanged down on the cobblestones.

"And what might ye be after?" the stranger asked me as I recovered my balance. "Wishin' me to escort ye somewhere?"

I pointed at his bottle. "You didn't pay for that,"

"Because they overcharge," he snorted. "Ye want to beggar me?"

"You still have to pay for it," I ordered.

B.E.N., still laying on the ground, shook his head with an "I-told-you-so" look. "See? Lady Rum got you in a lot of trouble, mister."

The stranger let out an annoyed huff, and leaned towards me, whispering, "Now, see here, laddie--I ain't got but ten shillings on me. But I have expectations."

I stared at what little I could see of his face. "Expectations? Are you a pirate?"

"Privateer," the man growled. "I'm a bounty hunter, as it were. I lock pirates away, and the King pays me for it. Now, expectations are what I expect to earn from each of my little expeditions. If ye let me out of this, then I'll sell--nay, I'll give ye a tenth of my expectations. Then, if my next v'yage is successful, ye get a tenth of my earnin's. Fair?"

"How much do you usually make from these...voyages?" I questioned.

The man chuckled. "I've lost count."

I was about to agree to this little plan--I needed the money, and now it looked like I had a chance to get some without being captured. But I suddenly realized--he hadn't been paid yet. Who knew how long it could take him to catch any pirates? And how was I to know he wasn't lying?

"I'm not interested," I replied shortly, and snatched his bottle away before he could react. As I turned away to march him back to the Tavern, B.E.N. suddenly jumped to his feet and pointed behind me.

"Watch it!" he shrieked.

Something hard slammed into the back of my head. I lost consciousness.