This section follows directly after the last one, a few hours later in time. Just recall that prior to this, Piranha had met the old soothsayer and talked to a robot in a bar, and altogether had quite a day of shocks and changes and had made some decisions. That's the context in which this chapter begins. I mention all that since it's been a little while since you read it...

And in case anybody has forgotten, Rayman is © UbiSoft Entertainment. In this chapter, the rest are mine!

Chapter 13: Tulik

Part One: A Human Conversation

The vast mess hall was a sea of long tables and benches, abandoned but for a few small cylindrical cleanup automatons that bobbed sluggishly along the empty rows like buoys among the waves. In the dim half-light of the off-hours, the place looked even more enormous.

It was not completely empty. Out in the middle of that vacant sea, stretched on one of the long tables like an ocean creature stranded on the beach, lay a small black form. Its rounded body lay inert, its head rested on its two black-gloved hands, its large eyes were shut. But from time to time, two glittering slits appeared deep under the large black hat, as the eyelids parted slightly, darting a fierce glance; waiting with the hard patience of a predator.

Far down the corridor, an elevator door clanked open and shut; firm, unhurried footsteps began to approach the wide double door of the mess hall. At length a silhouette appeared in the doorway, tall and slender, its angular outline flashing silver from the pinpoint lights behind it in the corridor. It paused, looking over the room. Then a quiet synthetic voice cut across the silence.

"First Mate?"

The figure on the table didn't stir. "So you did come," said Piranha.

The silver robot inclined its head slightly.

Slowly Piranha got to his feet on the table. With the careful thoroughness of a cat, he stretched himself, eyeing the lanky figure in the doorway. Suddenly he leapt off the table, across the wide gap to the next row, skidding onto the wooden planks and off again to the next, all the way up to the row nearest the door; where he landed with a thump and abruptly sat down.

"You're late," he said. "I thought you had changed your mind."

Tulik moved his head in the robotic version of a shrug. "I wasn't able to leave right away," he said.

Piranha's eyes narrowed, his teeth glinted. "Imagine that," he murmured. "Can it be the Boss suspects something?"

"He always suspects something," the robot replied impassively.

Piranha eyed him darkly, but changed the subject. "I felt the ship take off," he said. "We've left the planet."

"Yes, First Mate," Tulik replied.

"No one on board seemed to notice."

"It's routine."

"We came," said Piranha, "we took what we wanted, and now we go."

"Of course."

"We'll never return there, I suppose?"

"Not likely. Certainly not within a human lifetime."

Piranha's cold eyes flared a little. He held still, poised on the tabletop, hands gripping its edge, his small body tense as a set trap.

"Are you dissatisfied?" Tulik said. "Did you think we should stay longer?"

A grim smile. "Not particularly."

Tulik remained silent. Piranha fixed the robot with an impenetrable stare. "A microphone on you would be undetectable," he said.

"Yes, that's quite true," the robot said. "Particularly since I use microphones to hear with. They undoubtedly could be rigged up for eavesdropping." He met Piranha's fierce gaze with equanimity.

Some of Piranha's tension muted. He stood up on the table. "Tulik," he said, in a low voice, "I've always spoken freely to you. Was that wise?"

The silver robot tilted his head slightly in a characteristic gesture that in some indefinable way suggested a smile. "I'm sure it's not. But I'm a better judge of folly than of wisdom, Piranha." He paused. "While your talent is likely the reverse."

Piranha took a deep breath.

"All right, never mind," he said. "Tulik, what I want to know—"

Abruptly the robot raised a hand. Piranha stopped. Tulik motioned towards the door.

"Come with me," he said. Without another word he set off in long-legged strides.

For an instant, Piranha hesitated, then scrambled after him.

In the elevator, Tulik selected the top level, the tenth. Piranha's eyebrows raised. That stop opened into the familiar short corridor leading to the enormous engine room. At the other end of that corridor, however, was a large metal door, heavily guarded, never opened. Behind that door, rumour said, lay the robots' private quarters. For once, rumour might actually be correct.

The lift halted at the tenth floor, but its door remained shut. As Piranha watched, Tulik turned to brush his silver arm against the back wall of the elevator. Part of the wall slid back, revealing a narrow passageway.

"You can't open this panel," Tulik said. "It responds only to a sensory chip that robots have built in. Come on." He walked into the passageway.

Piranha followed him without comment. The narrow passage quickly opened into a wider metal-walled corridor. As they walked, his gaze darted about the place. Though at first glance it was much like any other hallway on the ship, something about it was unsettling. It was empty, with an abandoned look, as though no one had come through here in centuries. The lighting was dim – even more so than in the rest of the ship – and though less scratched and dented than elsewhere, the walls were far more dingy and dusty, the metal seams black and corroded with age. Nothing ever touched these walls, no shoulders or backs ever brushed against them; no drinking or gambling games, no lounging or brawling, took place on these floors. Yet into the metal surface, twin footpaths were faintly worn, one down each side of the hall.

Some of Piranha's unease could be traced to a stifling, oppressive atmosphere that wasn't merely metaphorical. The air was stale, very stuffy, with a strong taste of oil and ozone. Involuntarily he took in a long, unsatisfying breath.

"Can you breathe well enough?" Tulik said. "The air in the robot quarters isn't recycled. It should be sufficient, however."

"It's all right," Piranha said. And grimaced. Human speech seemed alien here, as unnervingly out of place as human breathing.

Tulik continued down the hall to a cabin door which he opened, again using that built-in sensor, followed by a code he quickly tapped on the wall, perhaps on some sort of concealed keypad. They entered. Piranha hesitated; they were going from a poorly lit corridor into hollow blackness. However, as he crossed the threshold he saw that the room was outlined faintly, like all rooms throughout the ship, by luminous greenish strips at the baseboards. He followed Tulik in, closing the door behind him.

As it closed, the door automatically locked itself with a soft click. Piranha twisted back towards it, startled; cabin doors didn't have automatic locks. At the same time, Tulik was lifting up a thick, heavy metal bar that probably weighed more than Piranha did. He jammed it into strong metal clamps, sealing the door. Fists tightening, Piranha made an automatic lurch in his direction; but held himself still.

The robot turned to him. "I have lived alone," he said, "for quite a long time. One develops habits."

Piranha unclenched his fists. "I never thought of you as the paranoid type," he said.

"Paranoid?" Tulik said. He glanced at the door, then back at Piranha. "No." The soft blue glow of his eyes shone through the darkness like twin moons.

As with most of the robots, those glowing eyes could apparently see with almost no light. Tulik strode into the black, creaked open a cupboard door somewhere, and returned to the center of the room. Between his hands, a brilliance flared up briefly, an intense blue-white spark like a speck of burning magnesium, that caromed blindingly off his polished metal body then tapered into an icy glimmer. He placed the little lamp on a table, where it flickered, dimmer than a candle.

As his stunned eyes adapted, Piranha peered around. The cabin was tiny, less than a quarter the size of the one he occupied with Elly. The floors, the walls, everything was finished in thin grey metal, making it look more like the inside of a locker than a room. There was no bed, no chairs, no kitchen, no bathroom; it was an empty cubicle with a few cupboards, plus the small metal table.

"My, Tulik," he said, "where do your friends sit when they drop in?"

"Robots don't drop in," Tulik said, impassively. "Robots don't have friends."

"Robots don't like chairs, either?" said Piranha. He turned away to prowl slowly around the room. "Anaconda does – but his tastes are a little exotic for a robot."

"Indeed," said Tulik, shortly. "However, I will get you a chair, First Mate."

"Don't bother," Piranha said. "I can sit on the table." He halted; turned sharply back to the robot. "Tulik. Why did you bring me here?"

"Safety. I make it a habit to ensure this room is not bugged."

"You're not supposed to bring a non-robot into this section, though, are you. Just at a wild guess."

Tulik shrugged. "Nobody ever follows all the rules all the time."

Piranha couldn't repress a smile. "Not even Tulik?"

But the robot looked sharply towards him. "Piranha, you're in a dangerous position. Do you fully realize how dangerous it is? You have dedicated enemies. Hacker has wanted Blargh's spot ever since he first got it. When Blargh was alive, Hacker didn't have the nerve to get rid of him. But you're another matter. Even though you put up a good front, you're still an alien, a human, inferior by nature in a robot world. He's watching for his chance."

Piranha smiled wryly, beginning to poke around the room again. "Hacker's much more of a watcher than a chance-taker. Besides, Tulik, the Boss is gunning for him. The poor guy's got his hands full just not getting killed."

Tulik shook his head. "Alliances shift all the time. Anaconda doesn't like his officers to accumulate too much power. He encourages a little rivalry at the top. If Hacker does go after you, Anaconda won't interfere. You must never let your guard down."

"Good advice. Which the newest recruit already knows." Piranha gave Tulik a sardonic look. "Be honest, what does it matter to you? After all, you're a robot yourself. You were here long before I arrived, and you'll be here long after I'm gone."

"You're my superior officer. It's my duty to make sure you are adequately informed."

"Thanks, that's most unpiratical of you. The thing is, Tulik, you haven't seemed all that concerned with my information adequacy until tonight. You've been avoiding me for weeks."

"That's true."

Piranha's eyes darkened. "So why do you suddenly decide to talk to me now?"

"You asked me."

"I've asked you before."

Tulik hesitated. "Something changed. I recognized you again."

There was a silence. Piranha stood at one side of the room, his black clothes blending into the shadows. In the weak light, only the few silver highlights on his hat and coat stood out. He turned the glint of those dark, sombre eyes directly towards the silver robot. Tulik remained standing by the table, the bright, curved metal of his body gleaming with reflections. The two of them looked at each other, not stirring.

At last Piranha said, quietly, "All right. I won't insult your understanding by being anything less than blunt. Tulik, I want to know what this ship is for. I mean, robot pirates? A bunch of machines ransacking the universe? Why?"

Tulik tilted his head but didn't speak. Piranha added, "Can robots get programmed with human greed? Look, one of them told me today he was evil! What's that supposed to mean? An evil machine? How can a mechanism be good or evil?"

"You said you weren't going to insult me," Tulik said, dryly, "and then you call me a mechanism."

"What? Well – aren't you?"

The robot shrugged. "We are machines much the same way that humans are globs of protein jelly. The vehicle isn't the person, Piranha."

Piranha raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying you think you're alive?"

"What makes you think you are?" Tulik replied.

"But – that's—" Piranha sputtered.

"... Ridiculous. Yes?" Tulik tilted his head, with that expressionless face, in that expressionless smile.

Piranha sighed. "All right. We can both have equal rights to be ridiculous. ... Besides, if I've ever met anyone who was genuinely and honestly evil, it would have to be a certain other metal-bodied person I know..." For another moment he contemplated the robot, who kept that perhaps deceptively tranquil gaze fixed on him. "And yes, it's awfully hard to think of you as a machine. No matter how much you try to act like one. All the same, it's – I just can't see how—" He sighed again. Going to the table, he pushed the lamp aside and jumped up. Sitting with his feet dangling over the side, he tilted his head in a gesture much like Tulik's. His shadow, distorted and magnified by the flickering candle-like light beside him, monstrously echoed the motion against the opposite wall. "But now you're going to explain it all to me. Right?"

"I'm considering," said Tulik, impassively.

Piranha moved his head back a little, eyeing him. Tulik was as motionless as if he'd been turned off.

Slowly Piranha smiled. "Or ... Am I supposed to explain something to you first."

Tulik didn't stir.

"Fair is fair," Piranha said. "Go on, Tulik, ask."

The robot seemed to consider for another moment. Then, collectedly, he spoke. "Back on that planet you came from – why did you fight against us so hard? Surely you knew your side had no chance to win. Why didn't you give up?"

Piranha flinched, just barely. "Would you have given up?" he growled.

Tulik's glowing gaze stayed on him. "It's hard for me to imagine that situation. I don't know."

"Neither did I. My imagination wasn't up to it either." Involuntarily Piranha jumped off the table, moved forward, began to stalk back and forth with abrupt, erratic jerks and turns.

Tulik said, "I saw you, you know, when you first came to this ship."

Piranha halted.

Tulik went on, "It was shortly after you were captured. In the torture room, a few days before you were sent to the box."

Piranha's rigidly inscrutable gaze fixed on him. "I don't remember seeing you."

"Not surprising, your attention was being rather forcibly drawn elsewhere. I must say my first thought was, 'This is what took so long to defeat?'"

With a dry smile, Piranha turned away, resumed his pacing.

"However," Tulik continued, "I was struck by the way you were treated by the medical slaves in the torture room, after the pirates were through with you. Even unconscious, you seem to have an effect on people. Those slaves weren't from your planet, you couldn't have meant anything to them. Why did they care for you with such... tenderness? As though you were one of their own children."

Piranha again jolted to a stop. His turned his hard eyes on Tulik, cold as the black depths of space.

"I even felt a little of it myself," Tulik went on, calmly. "I wanted to – to ease your suffering. For you not to suffer. Odd, don't you think? Concern for a defeated enemy?"

Piranha let out an explosive breath. "Tulik. Will you please tell me what you're getting at?"

Tulik said, "Before you were caught, Piranha – Despite the obvious fact that they were losing and could not halt our advance, the natives of your planet refused to stop fighting. Our pirates would go out on forays and return with bizarre tales about the leader of the resistance, a strange little being who appeared and vanished like a shadow, who struck with unlimited blasts of energy; who would hide, snipe, pick away at even a large force of robots, harry and worry them and take them out one or a few at a time until the whole unit was destroyed or fled. Large expeditions went after him and returned much smaller. It became increasingly risky to make progress reports to the Boss.

"Planning combat strategy was Blargh and Hacker's job, not mine. It's fairly standard, doesn't require much in the way of brains. But we were losing so many robots that I thought I'd better look into it.

"It wasn't hard. I found out everything I could about that troublesome native, his habits, his abilities, and the terrain of areas where he might be encouraged to turn up. I devised a plan, pounded it into the officers' heads, and within a week we had him. You."

Piranha was looking at him steadily. "So," he said, quietly, "so you were the one who finally took the trouble to think."

"Yes," said Tulik.

Piranha gazed at him for another moment, then returned to his fitful circling of the room.

Tulik went on, "That broke the planet's resistance, we swept forward effortlessly from there. Yet when we left your world, we brought negligible booty, and not a single slave. As Blargh once said, the only thing we got from your planet was you. And you certainly didn't come cheap. We had sacrificed a third of our robot force.

"Even since we left, nothing has returned to normal. Blargh is gone, his vast gang is a shambles, his long-time booty-running operation has collapsed. The human pirates are unsettled, they get ideas they never had the nerve to think of before. And there are more subtle changes that I can hardly define, but which I think are slowly drifting the Insurrection away from its traditions."

Piranha stopped to lean back against the wall. "Are you blaming me for all these improvements?"

"What does it matter? Nothing is going to be done about it, because the Boss is happy. You've given him a new interest in life."

Piranha grimaced.

"Oh, yes," Tulik said. "Long, long before our adventures on your planet, he had fallen into boredom and laziness. Nothing could coax him out of his room except the occasional fit of paranoia against some hapless officer. But on your world, as our invasion dragged on, as we suffered unheard-of losses, and as our work there kept being sabotaged, he began to take notice. He became offended. Anaconda is vindictive, always, but it's rare for him to bother with individual captured natives. But in your case, he took it very personally. I've never seen even a rival pirate captain rouse that much fury.

"He insisted you be brought in alive. We lost dozens more robots because of that. But he had plans for you. Seeing you a prisoner on the ship, he hated you ten times more. He had plans for you, and yet – you're not in the isolation box. No one is ever released from those, but you're out, and not in chains or under torture but free, and a pirate. You're his second in command! Don't you find that peculiar?"

"Yes, Tulik, I find it peculiar."

There was a pause. Tulik said, "Knowing your planet could not win, why did you keep fighting?"

"Tulik... That life is over. Let's leave the dead alone. They might be contagious."

Tulik only looked at him.

Piranha took in a long, resigned breath. He swept the wide black hat off his head, holding it against his chest. In the blue-white lamplight, his springy blond hair glowed almost platinum. He shook his head. "They needed a leader, a hero. All they had was him – was m-me. They needed him to win, they trusted in him, and they were cheated. They will hate that leader and curse his name till the end of time. At least, by all the gods I hope they do." With a sort of morose, ironic flippancy, he swung his hat in a wide arc, twirled it, and tossed it carelessly back onto his head, all without any change in his grim expression.

"So," said Tulik, "you regret continuing to fight."

"No. Giving up would have been worse."

"Do you regret joining the pirates?"

Piranha's wary black gaze fixed on him. "No."

"But then," said Tulik calmly, "why should you regret it? During our invasion you were powerless, on the run, knowing your world was being destroyed, knowing your own death or capture could not be far off. Now you're one of the conquerors – in fact, one of the most powerful; second in command on a warrior ship that can overwhelm nearly any planet."

Piranha stared. "The pirate philosophy in a mouthful. Is that what you think matters?"

"Doesn't it?"

Piranha's hands clenched automatically into fists for an instant, then he began to approach Tulik slowly, gesturing fiercely as he spoke.

"How about you? Don't you have regrets? You knew before I was caught that you should kill me. If you'd killed me, the invasion would have worked, your ship would have gone back to normal, I wouldn't be here now upsetting the pirates and distracting Anaconda from his music and torture. Maybe you'd have a shot at becoming First Mate yourself."

Tulik said blandly, "I agree regrets are worthless. Apparently you don't think power is worth much either. Does anything matter to you?"

Piranha halted, his ferocity draining away. He went back to the table and sat down, slumping forward, his face resting oddly in one armless hand.

"Look, Tulik," he said, wearily, "I've lived my whole life hanging on by my fingernails. I always used to trust I'd win somehow. Now I just close my eyes and pray I won't lose my grip."

"Did you realize what would happen when you accepted Anaconda's offer?"

"What?" Piranha slammed his hands down on the table, nearly launching himself into the air. "What offer?"

"Why, it was the talk of the ship at the time. How he promised to let you out if you'd swear loyalty to him."

"Him, make me an offer? Are you kidding?" Irritably, Piranha gestured widely with his hands. "Can you see him coming up with anything like that?"

Tulik regarded him with interest. "Do you mean it was your idea?"

Piranha's black glare was growing more volcanic by the second. "I said I would work for him. If he would free my planet. That was the deal. That is the deal."

"A captive under torture, and you were thinking about your planet?"

Piranha's eyes narrowed. "What else would I be thinking of by that time?"

"Obviously, saving yourself."

"Saving myself?" Piranha snarled. His black-gloved fingers gestured fiercely at his piratical clothing. "Is this your idea of being saved?" The fingers balled into fists, he shut his eyes and turned away, his body quivering.

Tulik watched him for a moment. "I don't understand," he said. "No human would endure the isolation box, if he had a choice."

The small being on the table was taking long breaths, struggling to calm himself. He shook his head impatiently. "Look, Tulik, I didn't have to endure the box. I was weak, sick, it wouldn't have been hard to abandon my body. And I was ready, I was longing to abandon it. To wipe out my —" He paused, again shutting his eyes. "Waiting there, in that hideous room full of coffins, I was bound, in the grip of guards, unable to stand, half-blinded, suffocating. Submerged, drowning in my own – my criminal failure, it was whirling around me, buffeting me like a hurricane, I couldn't see, I couldn't breathe. But then some sound, something got through to me. I looked up, saw my friends. Those metal brutes shoving them into grey boxes. For murder or torture, I didn't know which; but —" His big hands wrapped themselves around his body, as though to hold him together. "Imagine, there I was all knotted up with my own wretched guilt. The self-indulgence of it! To die, to boorishly flee – while my gentle planet, my kind friends, while hundreds of thousands of innocents one by one were breaking in Anaconda's metal fist." He wiped his face with one hand, pressing his eyes. "No, I had no right to abandon my friends. I had to hang on. In case some day, something might yet be done for them."

"You really felt that much obligation to them?"

Piranha smiled listlessly. "Maybe not to them so much. Rather to – to Rayman."

Tulik tilted his head. "I thought that was your own name in your world."

"The name of —" Piranha squeezed his fists together, hunching over a little. "He never was real. But he existed, oh yes, he was everywhere. Keeping an eye out. He still is."

"I don't understand that, Piranha."

Eyes lowered, Piranha shook his head. "Never mind, Tulik, it doesn't matter." Lowering his head, hunching over more, as though in physical pain. "The only thing that matters is my deal with that bastard."

"For the sake of your friends."

There was a pause. Then Piranha nodded curtly, not meeting Tulik's eyes.

Tulik said, "I've always been curious about the interrelationships of natives. Would you consider your feelings to be typical?"

The faintest smile twitched across Piranha's face. "Reasonably typical, I guess."

Tulik said, "Human pirates sometimes become what they call friends. From what I've seen, that means they get drunk together and then generally try to kill each other."

A dispirited chuckle. "Well, it's a start."

"But that doesn't sound like what you mean by the word."

Piranha sighed. "What it means depends on the people involved, Tulik."

Tulik thought for a few moments. "What would a 'friend' mean to a robot? We have no use for the concept."

"Oh, I don't know," Piranha said, tiredly. "How about somebody who'd – get you to an energy socket and plug you in if your batteries got discharged?"

"Someone who'd take the trouble to help another when there was nothing in it for him? Rare indeed."

"Oh, no, no! That's completely wrong!" With abrupt animation, Piranha leapt to his feet on the table. "Look, no one ever really knows what's in it for him. We can't know that. We can't operate on that basis, it's too short-sighted, too small-minded, too dangerous. Worse, it – makes us too small and contemptible to ourselves." He flung his hands apart. "It's not even practical! You fail to help somebody, perhaps he's the very person who might have gotten you out of a tight spot another day. Or have helped somebody else, somebody you love perhaps. Or – well, you just can't know. It doesn't matter. You have to help, there's no other choice. Otherwise you lose your – lose yourself." He blinked a few times, glancing around the room as though disoriented. Then, meekly, he sat back down.

Tulik said, "So that's what it's like to be human?"

Piranha rested his cheek in his hand again, glumly. "Sometimes. Once in a while. Now and then. No, maybe not."

"But that," the robot said, "is the thing that matters to you. These interrelationships."

Piranha avoided his gaze. "I don't know. It's something built in. It's the way we are, my people – my kind."

"Humans?"

Piranha shook his head. "Not humans. Energy beings. The planet belonged to us, once. Long ago. No matter, I'm still the guardian of all the beings of my world, the old, the new, all kinds. They're all my people." He glanced at Tulik; for an instant the look in his eyes was harrowing. "But we – we are energy beings. We sense each other across long distances, we know what each other thinks and feels, we give and draw life from each other... charge our batteries, you could say... exchange energy... At least ... Exchanged energy." He averted his eyes again.

Tulik said, quietly, "The humans on board this ship. As first mate you are their guardian too. Are they also your people?"

Piranha made an involuntary gesture, thrusting his hands away. "No. Maybe. No." He shivered. "I can't let that happen."

"Let what happen?"

Piranha glared. "I'm not part of this place!" Then winced at his own words. "I mean... I am, but—" Pressing his hands together. "Can you imagine having to keep yourself completely alone? Having to resist everyone, everywhere, all the time? Trust no one, ever? Who can – who can bear to live in a cage like that?"

Tulik's expressionless almond-shaped eyes shone through the dim light. "I see. You're saying you have thoughts you can't speak. Perhaps for a long time."

Piranha turned sharply to look at him.

Softly, thoughtfully, Tulik added, "Trapped inside yourself..."

Piranha sat up alertly.

The robot didn't look at him. Through a long silence, Piranha waited, watching him with an intent, serious gaze.

At last Tulik said, in a low voice, "We've been talking, haven't we? A human conversation."

"So it seems, Tulik."

With uncharacteristic restlessness, the robot turned away from him and walked a few steps. Then he returned, coming several steps closer than before. His blue eyes glowed intensely.

"I have not spoken my own thoughts to anyone since... You remind me of her."

"Her?"

"Yes," Tulik said. Some indefinable tension of decision straightened his thin metal frame. "I'm going to talk to you. I'm going to say whatever's in my mind. I think she would have approved of you, Piranha." He paused. "I don't think she would approve of me, anymore."

"Tulik – who are you talking about? What are you talking about?"

Blandly as though listing crew duty assignments, Tulik said, "Robots didn't always command this ship, Piranha. We were slaves once."

(End of Chapter 13, Part One)