The next part of this should be up very soon, but I might as well get this one out of my hands so I can't tinker with it any more. There should be two more parts of chapter 11 after this, yes it's that long. I don't know how these things happen. These chapters grow spontaneously on my hard drive, like fungus.

Once again, PG-13 alert for mildly uncouth language, but you know that by now, don't you?

Rayman and the blame for the existence of this thing, © UbiSoft Entertainment
All else © me (no, it's my fault, really!)

Chapter 11: The Tormenting of Elly, Part Two

However occupied Piranha might be with the hourly emergencies of a warship, the first mate's first priority was still to be at the command of the Boss. Anaconda might go for days without speaking to him, then get into a froth of anxiety or annoyance about something, calling Piranha repeatedly in to see him, generally at the most inconvenient possible moments.

It was in response to such a peremptory summons that Piranha was hurrying to see the Boss. What did that electronic meddling device want now? The first mate had been on his way to meet with his own sub-officers, and now they had to wait while he went to be subjected to Anaconda's latest caprice. The ship had just been moved to a new location to start in on a new native settlement — was the Boss dissatisfied with that already? Was he annoyed that there was now less drinking on the ship? No doubt he got a kickback from the sales of the ship's native version of rum. Or had he been listening to the whimperings of Hacker again? Although still in disgrace and — despite his new and unwanted role of battle leader — staying mostly out of sight, Hacker seemed to be keeping himself busy. A couple of unexplained outbreaks of fighting that had erupted on the ship recently, once among the pirates, once in the slave quarters, had had a distinct whiff of his furtive rumormongering. But nothing definite could be traced back to him — unfortunately, since Piranha would have liked very much to have a good excuse to deal with that asteroid-sized sneak once and for all.

He arrived at the little chamber off the war room where the Boss now spent most of his time. It was Anaconda's private domain, furnished with his own personal belongings. There were comfortable armchairs quite unlike the simple rough benches and chairs found in the rest of the ship (though why a robot would care to sit down, or care what he sat on, was beyond Piranha's comprehension), as well as a few elegant ornaments in precious materials, some expensive-looking draperies on the walls which Piranha sourly assumed concealed something nefarious, and a bar for drinks. In the corners of the room, as motionless as the rest of the furnishings, lurked Anaconda's three bodyguards. All of which Piranha had seen too many times even to notice. But this time, as the First Mate stepped through the door, something halted him even before he set his foot down.

He was enfolded by sound, supple and luxurious, like a living spirit that had condensed out of the air and wrapped him in its arms. Sound as opulent as a river of chocolate, as bright as a mountain waterfall; as powerful and gentle, as accusing and forgiving, as the Two Hands, the twin suns of his own planet. It was a group of instruments he didn't recognize, playing in complex rhythms and harmonies that he had never heard before, but which seemed instantly as much a part of him as though he had lived with them his whole life. He took a deep breath, his mouth a little open, his eyes wide. It was like eavesdropping on the meditations of a god; one of the more spiritually-minded gods at that.

"Fond of music, I take it?" Anaconda, sprawling in a chair a few yards away, grinned at him sardonically.

Though yanked unpleasantly from that sonic embrace, Piranha looked at Anaconda with frank awe. "Music? It's breathtaking. So much depth to it — so much thought, so much feeling." He held still as it took hold of him again. "I've never heard anything like it."

"No," the Boss drawled, "I expect not, in that backwater I rescued you out of." He touched a control on his chair, and the sounds died away. In the same moment, Piranha's wide-eyed gaze hardened into his normal dark, quietly aggressive glare.

"What do you want, Anaconda?" he said.

The Boss said, "I believe I've mentioned this before. The correct form of address is 'Boss' or 'Captain.' Failing that, 'sir'."

"Right," Piranha muttered. "That's what you called me here for?"

"Not entirely." Anaconda remained silent for a few moments, still sprawled carelessly in his chair, but fixing Piranha with his small, blank, glowing yellow eyes. "I've been getting complaints about you, First Mate."

Piranha smiled slightly. "Naturally. I've been doing my job."

"Very amusing." Picking up his thin whip, or switch, the tall black robot got out of his chair and strode forward towards Piranha, his hands clasped behind him. "It seems you've been on something of a spree lately, First Mate. It's getting out of hand. Did you have to demolish one of my better human officers? I don't know if he'll ever be good for anything again!"

Piranha looked at him blankly. "Er... Which officer was that?"

Anaconda gestured in annoyance. "Jebbel, you sparkless idiot."

Piranha tensed with remembered rage. "Him? I caught that piece of garbage trying to rape one of the prisoners."

"Piranha. The officers of this ship aren't your personal property. When you feel like committing mayhem, find a more appropriate target. Or at least a plausible reason. Show a little self-control."

Piranha's lips drew back slightly. "Self-control. Yes, like your better human officers."

The Boss made another impatient gesture. "All right, never mind, it's not that important. There's a more serious matter — the booty distribution. I've had one officer after another in here whining that they're not getting their fair share."

"One after another? You mean Hacker?"

Anaconda straightened up, irritably. "Not only him. The officers —"

Piranha flung out his hands in exasperation. "Sure, he's getting less! Did he mention that he and Blargh used to siphon off a quarter of your share? And there's no telling what they smuggled away from the rest of the officers and crew. I don't see the problem."

Anaconda folded his arms and grinned slightly, eyeing his first mate with one eyebrow raised. "You amaze me, Piranha. Who'd have thought you had the soul of a bookkeeper?"

Piranha snorted. "You needed a bookkeeper around here. It took me weeks to find one. I've got one now though, an old fellow who was working as a kitchen slave — he's getting all the records straightened out."

Anaconda raised both eyebrows. "Records?"

"Yes, records. The crew's finally stopped muttering about what they've been owed for the past five years, even though their pay's not fully caught up yet. Records or not, they don't forget. And do you really object to getting more of your own gold?"

Anaconda gazed up towards the ceiling as if pleading for patience. "Piranha. Obviously there's something about being first mate of a pirate vessel you simply haven't grasped. Records! Listen, yokel, you're the one entrusted with the distribution of booty. You don't need some meddling slave to tell you how to share it out."

It was Piranha's turn to look skeptical.

"Don't you see, First Mate. In your position, you could become rich very quickly."

"Oh?" Piranha shrugged. "You mean if we continue to have such large hauls. Yes, probably."

Anaconda glared at him. "Of course. And also... in your position... First Mate... no one should know how much you take for yourself..."

"My share is ten percent of the officers' portion, and half of mine goes to you. Do you want more?"

Anaconda clenched his jaw. "Damn it, Piranha, are you a complete idiot?"

"You can assign someone to double-check if you don't trust me. Tulik perhaps. Unless you want to take over the distribution yourself again."

Anaconda glowered.

"Or you could give the distribution job to Hacker. He'd like that."

Anaconda brought his arm down hard, cracking the air with his whip. "Do you take me for an idiot?"

"Well, then, Anaconda, there's nothing more to say about it." He turned to go. Anaconda jumped forward, grabbed him by the trunk with both hands and whirled him hard around to face himself, almost knocking him down.

"Damn you to hell, you witless little freak, can't you take a hint?"

Straightening his hat, Piranha looked him in the eye balefully. "A hint? I beg your pardon, was that some kind of order you were giving me, Anaconda? I stupidly missed it."

Anaconda bent to thrust his dark face almost against Piranha's.

"Is that sarcasm I'm hearing, First Mate? Is that possible? Somehow I keep getting the impression you think you're too good for us. That your provincial little moral certainties make you superior."

Piranha's glare didn't waver. The Boss flicked the sharp tip of his switch a fraction away from Piranha's eyes.

"Has it occurred to you, guardian of planetary delusions, that whatever noble high ground you may have descended from, you're now down in the mud with the rest of us? Have you noticed lately that you're a pirate? A merciless, thieving, bloodthirsty, murderous pirate? And a slaver? Raiding villages, seizing harmless, innocent people, tearing them away from their peaceful lives? Have you thought about how much you're going to profit from the capture and sale of men, women, and children?"

He paused. Piranha, almost invisibly, had flinched. Those black eyes had subtly lost their focus; they didn't quite meet the robot's glowing yellow ones.

"Yes," Piranha said, after a moment. "I've noticed."

Anaconda straightened and grinned down at him. "I thought you probably had," he said. "But it's healthy to be reminded now and then."

The tall black robot returned to his chair and sprawled into it again. Offhandedly he added, "Oh, one more thing. First Mate, I'm intending to depart the planet in about thirty days. By that time the cargo hold must be completely filled with booty and prisoners. We need to be stocked up, since we have a rendezvous two weeks later with the Black Hole."

Piranha took a long breath. There was a deep weariness in his eyes.

"Black hole?" he said, dutifully. "What's that?"

"Nothing for you to concern yourself with. One of my contacts."

Piranha nodded absently. He turned to leave.

"Oh," added Anaconda — and the luxuriant melody welled up again, softly — "by the way, Piranha, appreciation of complex music is a rare taste on this ship. You must come by and sample my collection."

Piranha halted. He fixed his flat stare again on Anaconda.

"Your collection. You collect music."

"Why, yes, I'm quite fond of it. I've collected music for — centuries, I suppose you'd say."

Those black eyes were cold now, fiercely cold and resentful. "Fond of it? You claim you like it? What does it mean to you?"

The Boss raised his eyebrows. "Sparks, what a personal question. What should it mean?"

Piranha turned on his heel, headed for the door. Anaconda's harsh voice froze him as though he'd literally been seized by the robot's metal hand. "Piranha! I'm not done with you yet. Enough of your insubordination, who the hell do you think you are?"

Piranha half-turned towards him once again with a deliberately contemptuous look. "What's this? Losing your cool again because of a stupid clumsy slave?"

Anaconda's eyes flared, his body straightened as if to lurch out of the chair, his hand grabbed automatically for his whip. But then he stopped himself. He leaned back, smiling coldly.

"Ah, why I didn't get myself a human first mate long ago? You bio types are so quaintly temperamental. Yes, Piranha, come listen to the music when you have a chance. Dream of home. Steep in nostalgia. Indulge your emotions. It's so interesting to see what even a minute or two of hearing it does to you."

For a moment, Piranha stood motionless. Anaconda raised one eyebrow, grinning a little more. "Not going to thank me?"

A quiver ran through the small black body. Piranha twisted and strode out of the room.

Hoping the door would close behind him quickly enough that he wouldn't hear Anaconda's soft, self-satisfied chuckle. As usual, it didn't.

It was only a short distance to the war room, where his aides were waiting. As the First Mate swept into the room, caroming the heavy metal door almost off its hinges, they all lurched up from the various postures of lounging and drinking they had been in, and bunched together in a badly assorted phalanx, facing him warily. Seeing the Boss never improved the First Mate's state of mind.

Piranha's lieutenant Tulik was there, as well as the human Bubo, who didn't have an officer rank but made himself useful in various ways, and a few other robot and human officers who were involved with planning and executing raids, distribution of arms, overseeing slaves, ship security, feeding the crew, and the rest of the ship's business.

The only other person in the room was a slender, smallish young male human slave, pale-skinned, sandy-haired and green-eyed, who had been darting about taking care of the cups and drinks. Piranha barely glanced at him. The person who wasn't in the room was considerably more noticeable.

He glowered. "Where is he?" he demanded.

"Hacker?" said Tulik. "He knows about the meeting. I announced it on the intercom twice."

"On my way here, I caught a glimpse of him staggering down the hall on level 5," added Bubo, who despite Piranha's dark look couldn't entirely smother a grin. "So lubricated his gears kept slipping. He was heading into the elevator, guess he got off on the wrong floor."

Piranha growled. "On the fifth level? Where the old section is? All right, never mind that." He glared around the room. The targets of his glare all stirred uneasily. "I'm tired of telling you the same thing over and over. This ship is a disaster. I don't care if it is a pirate ship, it still needs to function. Yesterday I found seven men dead drunk in the halls. How the hell are they still doing that? This morning only two-thirds of the fighters showed up for the raid. Tulik, you're supposed to be coordinating the expeditions, what's going on? And glorious leader Hacker didn't show up at all, I had to lead them out. That's the second time this week. Why isn't he in the brig?"

Tulik stepped forward. "He's been very hard to pin down, Piranha. He can't even be found at the bar any more."

"A monster that size? How can he hide? Bubo just saw him!"

Tulik shrugged helplessly. Piranha swivelled to bark at another of the officers, a human. "And you, Ackel, I was down in the slave quarters last night. You know what I've told you. Only robots to guard the slaves, no humans. The temptation seems to be too much for them. They're damaging the cargo."

"P-Piranha, sir, honestly, there aren't enough robots—"

Piranha looked at him. "We also need more slaves, Ackel, are you volunteering?"

The officer winced. "I'll take care of it, sir."

After taking out a few more targets, Piranha stepped back with an air of finality. (The rest of the officers all took a quiet breath of relief, like the zebras still standing after the lions have finally brought down one of their herd.) "All right," he said. "Now to what the Boss said." His men all bunched together a little with renewed alarm; even in mentioning the Boss, Piranha's eyes had turned an ominous metallic grey.

Teeth bared as if his lips were trying to not to participate in his speech, Piranha said, "We'll be leaving this planet in thirty days. By then the booty and slave cargo holds are to be full. I know we're behind with the slaves. That means — Tulik, how many more?"

The silver robot said, "To have a full cargo we'll need about four thousand more slaves."

Piranha, still with a look of revulsion on his face, closed his eyes for a moment. Then went on in a carefully controlled voice, "Can it be done in thirty days?"

"Yes. But we can't afford any more delayed or cancelled raids. We're going to need Hacker to show up when he's supposed to. And the rest of the fighters too."

Piranha gave him a hard, direct look. "Tulik, you get your men to track him down today and inform him that he has no more excuses to miss an expedition. And when he starts crying about it, tell him if he goofs off again I'll come after him myself. If he can't be found, it'll have to be you leading the raids. You got that, Tulik?"

"I understand, First Mate."

Piranha looked around at the group again. "All right, now go. I'll be checking up on all of you." And abruptly terminating the meeting, Piranha turned away from them all. The officers glanced at each other. Definitely, having a meeting after the First Mate had just seen the Boss was not the best idea.

They filed quickly out the door. As Tulik passed him, however, Piranha touched his arm. "Wait." Obediently, the robot halted.

As the room emptied, Piranha caught sight of the small human slave putting away the last of the cups and bottles. "You there. Are you done? Clear out."

The slave turned to him, gave a slight nervous bow, and sped away. Piranha eyed him. The kid looked vaguely familiar. Then he turned back to Tulik.

Quietly he said, "Speaking of having trouble tracking somebody down, I can hardly find you anymore, Tulik. Don't you ever go to the officers' bar? I've never seen you there."

"I've heard that you can be found there pretty frequently, First Mate. Aside from hunting for the second mate, I don't have any reason to go myself."

"What, Tulik," Piranha said, with the trace of a smile, "Are you the only person on this ship who doesn't drink?"

"No, sir," Tulik said flatly. "You don't either."

Piranha looked up at him. The robot was standing there calmly, showing no impatience. But any attempt to start a conversation with him simply dropped into a void.

"Tulik," he said, quietly, "do you remember... the last time I saw you around the bar? The time I had that brush with Hacker—"

"Remember? I have virtually unlimited memory storage," Tulik said dryly.

"Ah. But no obligation to talk, of course. When I do manage to get hold of you, I can hardly wring a word out of you."

Tulik's glowing blue eyes regarded him impassively. "First Mate, surely I haven't refused to answer any of your questions."

"No. You haven't let me ask them in the first place. Tulik, do I ask too much of you? Is your loyalty to me, or to the robots?"

Tulik paused. "I'm loyal to the ship, Piranha. That's what I belong to. And you're my senior officer. Robot or otherwise, I follow your orders."

"All right then. Answer this question. Tulik, what vital information am I missing about this ship? I know I'm missing something."

Tulik looked at him in silence. Piranha halted and faced him directly.

"You see? You won't talk to me."

"Sir, I don't know how to answer that question."

"Is there something hidden from non-robots?"

Tulik shrugged. "There's nothing that could possibly relate to the running of this ship. I can't see that you're missing anything. You've learned an impressive amount in such a short time."

Piranha began to pace again. "You don't much like me, do you, Tulik?"

Tulik said nothing. Piranha turned to him once again. He smiled faintly. "I think I've disappointed you."

After a moment, Tulik said, "Well, sir, in fact I did have the impression at first that you would be somewhat different. But you've done well as First Officer, the ship runs more smoothly than in many, many cycles. I have no complaints."

Piranha looked at Tulik intently. The robot gazed blandly back at him with his expressionless eyes.

At last Tulik said, "Sir, if you have any other questions please ask them. Or any orders, please give them. I have work to do."

Piranha regarded him for another moment. Then turned away. "No, there's nothing else, Tulik. Go ahead." As the robot walked out of the room, Piranha closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

Piranha looked grim as he approached the old section, where his cabin was. He found Bubo there, on patrol with some of his men. He gestured to him to follow. The pirate went with him into the labyrinth of the old section, out of sight and earshot of the rest of the men.

Piranha turned on him then. "Bubo. You're making me a little unhappy right now."

Bubo grinned feebly.

Piranha leaped up and took hold of Bubo's shirt, bracing his feet against the big pirate's chest to hold himself steady. Startled, Bubo backed up against the wall.

Piranha growled, close to his face, "A certain party was seen on this level? And you didn't tell me?"

"B-but I did tell you, Piranha, at the meeting—"

"How do I know there isn't some kind of plotting going on between you and him? Or maybe one of your men? Tell me, how do I know that?"

"Piranha, for the love of — of gold, would I have said I saw him if I was trying to hide anything?"

Piranha glared into his face, still holding himself up by Bubo's shirt. He said, "Get this straight, Bubo. I want him tracked. You need to know where that lily-white lummox can be found at every moment. Get your spy pals on the job. If he tries anything I want to hear about it. And god help you if I find you haven't told me something, or if I get a report on him that isn't true."

The big pirate tried to grin. "Okay, Boss, okay, I'm onto it."

Piranha snarled, "Yes, unless you want to be replaced. And don't call me boss."

"Sorry, er, First Mate, sir. Sir."

Piranha jumped back to the floor. He gave Bubo a last fierce look. Then he waited until the pirate had gone back out through the entrance, before he made his own way towards his cabin.

[End of Chapter 11, part 2]