8. The Lost Spy
When the silence of the ship finally got to him, Clarence re-engaged AVA.
"Don't start," he warned in a preemptive strike, resuming his spot in the too-big pilot's seat.
The AI ignored him. "Where are Fox and Ash? Where is Gary? And why is Mooncake in a gravity bind?"
"Gary is he, now?"
"He's always been Gary. I'm programmed to call people by what name they like, sweetcheeks."
"Don't get smart with me!" Clarence snapped, extremely defensive even for him. He had not anticipated so much pushback from his own ship. "I don't answer to you, AVA."
There was a pause as she reviewed events. There was a substantial gap in her records, several hours' worth. AVA's logic circuits kicked in as she assessed.
"You're turning Mooncake over for the bounty and got rid of Gary so he can't fight you and the children so you can keep it all for yourself."
At the sound of his name, Mooncake tried to struggle, a few muffled chirps escaping him, but was held too firmly. Clarence ignored him, saying,
"Succinct, but accurate. What of it?"
"Where are they now?"
"Tarb III last I checked. Does it matter?"
"All this because Gary stands a chance with Avocato and you haven't got a hope?"
"What!" Clarence jumped from his seat, his fury and indignation erupting far too quickly for AVA to be wrong. "Are you accusing me of jealousy? Of a primey? Whatever gave you such an idea?"
"The largest collection of Ventrexian gay military porn in this arm of the galaxy."
"I . . ." He choked, caught, one finger raised in futile protest. As the Crimson Light's AI, AVA saw and heard everything that happened in an around the ship. Everything. She knew every file, every item onboard. Until this moment, Clarence had completely forgotten to activate her privacy settings, and he realized she had been witness to some highly questionable activities and messages. Including endless hours of Ventrexian gay military porn to fuel his raunchy fantasies. Damnit.
"I admire the Ventrexians," he tried to lie, his excuse sounding lame in his own ears. The truth was, Clarence had it bad. Avocato was, for him, the very definition of sex. Cool, distant, brave, untouchable, and unquestionably handsome - he was everything Clarence was not. That he was quite literally out of Clarence's reach made him all the more desirable. Over the years, the lust had only intensified, especially when Avocato donned the various uniforms of the factions fighting in the rebellion. Seeing Avocato in a t'Rakkidan uniform had very nearly undone Clarence Polkawitz completely. The very suggestion that a primey like Gary Goodspeed could waltz right in and snap up the prize Clarence yearned for was unacceptable.
"All of them or just the one?" she shot right back.
He glowered, as annoyed at her for calling him out as at himself for arguing. "Why should I settle for anything but the very best?"
"What about Cataloupe?" AVA challenged.
Clarence and the older Ventrexian general enjoyed something of a . . . a thing whenever their paths crossed. AVA was able to connect a direct correlation between the number of times Clarence viewed his collection and the occasions they 'happened' to run across Cataloupe, sometimes in outposts so remote not even the most gullible child would believe it was by chance.
"I use Cataloupe as much as he uses me," Clarence huffed. He was definitely compensating when it came to Cataloupe, even if he did rather like the general on a personal level and enjoyed his company.
"Except you always end up tracking him down."
"Enough!" he snapped. "I won't be lectured to or judged by property. Besides," he added, trying to sound confident but coming across as pathetically desperate, "that primey couldn't possibly appeal to the general. Avocato is a man of refinement and taste."
"Yes, he is," she agreed heartily, the which is why you haven't got a hope going unsaid but heavily implied.
"Enough, I said! Take us to Hamrihed Delta. I have a rendezvous with destiny and some stolen property to return," he finished, giving Mooncake a smile of self-satisfaction.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
Hamrihed Delta was something of an anomaly in the universe - a single small star with a single rocky planet almost the same size as the star, right on the edge of the Z'Binn Nebula. It was an isolated location, off the usual traffic routes, so out of the way that only smugglers and outlaws ever came here, and there was nothing worthwhile to tempt them to stay.
Today was a unique day in the system's history, though, as a record amount of traffic moved through it. Within a few hours of arriving and coasting in a leisurely orbit around the barren planet, the remains of the Lord Commander's deep space battle fleet showed up. As Clarence watched, the incinerators dropped out of lightfold together, an impressive but unnecessary and very dangerous maneuver, especially so close to a star. It was the sort of risky thing someone trying to show off would do - show off, or impress their superior. Avocato would never dream of doing something so foolhardy like that, or giving his captains that kind of headache, but Avocato didn't need to show off to anyone, especially the Lord Commander. Clarence was admittedly biased, but only an idiot would try to compare Viro's command skills to Avocato's. There was no comparison, unless one agreed that by comparison, Viro had no skills.
Looking at the fleet, Clarence realized there was a certain shabbiness about the many ships now. They looked dirty. The broad surfaces of spaceships tended to tarnish over time, exposure to solar winds and ion outputs from their engines built up in dark streaks. Avocato had insisted the ships be kept clean, as much for pride as for better performance. Viro, it seemed, was not as much of a spic-and-span leader. That, or he simply didn't have the necessary manpower to keep the ships polished.
Come to think of it, the rebel fleet had been far shinier and more impressive . . .
Well, after today, none of that would matter. Clarence was going to retire and settle in to a life of hedonistic revelries and sin. It was the least he deserved for finding and returning the Lord Commander's prize. If he couldn't have Avocato, a few decades of debauchery would salve his disappointment. He'd definitely earned it.
The comm unit crackled to life, and a cold voice demanded, "Identify."
"This is Clarence Polkawitz aboard the Crimson Light," he said, a little miffed at the lack of manners. "I have E35-1 contained for delivery to the Lord Commander."
A pause followed, then, "You will land your ship in the flagship Mynn docking bay. Proceed."
"You're not serious," AVA began to protest.
"You heard the man, AVA," purred Clarence, overriding her reluctance. He could envision his bank account already, and his greed would always prevail over his caution. "Let's go."
She obeyed, albeit reluctantly, following the tracking signal to a super incinerator that dwarfed the surrounding ships. The docking bay screens allowed them entry, and the Crimson Light glided in for a landing. Heavily armed troops swarmed around the ship. Watching from the bridge, Clarence frowned, then convinced himself they were just here to keep Mooncake safe and secure. In his mind's eye he was already scamming the real estate broker of the neat little planet he would buy. Perhaps he'd have a crown made . . .
A tall and imposing figure in a ragged cape broke from the ring of soldiers, and Clarence recognized General Viro. A cyborg of some never-revealed race, Viro was genuinely frightening in appearance, and it was very difficult to tell where machine ended and man began. Cruel and petty, Viro was slavishly loyal to the Lord Commander. Viro's leadership was based on intimidation, whereas Avocato's leadership had been by personality. Ultimately, Avocato had been in absolute command whereas Viro just issued threats.
Well, none of that really mattered. Not to Clarence or Clarence's bank account.
Standing before the Crimson Light, Viro ordered, "Produce E35-1."
"AVA, lower the ramp and let's get this over with, shall we?"
"I think it's a mistake," she warned, but obedient to her owner, lowered the ramp.
"Wait right there," Clarence cheerfully ordered Mooncake. The face-hugging planet killer renewed his struggles and complaints to no avail, unable to escape the cone of glowing energy.
He met Viro outside the ship, fully ready to be made welcome and hailed as a hero for returning the Lord Commander's missing prize. He expected thanks and praise and at least a little fanfare before he was presented with his award.
What he got was a bristling row of guns aimed at him.
"I say," snapped Clarence, completely miffed. "Is that how you greet everyone who's done you a service? One performed at great personal risk, I might add."
"Produce E35-1," repeated Viro tonelessly.
"He's on the bridge in a gravity bind," Clarence replied, trying to sound casual in order to regain at least a little control of the situation. "Send one of your goons to fetch him."
At a nod from their general, soldiers rushed onto the Crimson Light, almost trampling Clarence in their haste. Moments later they returned, carefully carrying the gravity bind pinning Mooncake. At a gesture from Viro, they set it on the deck.
"As promised," Clarence declared. "E35-1 safely returned to the Lord Commander in exchange for -" he drew a shuddering breath, thrilled to say the amount out loud, "-ten billion dropnoids."
Viro just looked at him. It was impossible to read the cyborg's expression since it never changed, but Clarence could sense that somehow, he was amusing to the second of the Tera Con Empire.
"Lord Commander," said Viro, turning towards the main entrance, "E35-1 is secured."
"Excellent," said a hoarse voice, and as one the ranks of soldiers took two steps back to form a clear path all the way to the ramp of the Crimson Light. Clarence blinked, astonished to see the Lord Commander had come in person. And it wasn't just his presence that was surprising, but his condition.
He looked appalling. Open sores that oozed a thick, dark fluid dotted his head and hands. His skin, normally an even grayish green, was the color of slate, sagging and fragile as tissue. His eyes were inflamed and discolored, and there was a malicious glint in them as he slowly approached. He smiled with wicked pleasure to see Mooncake back in his power.
"Well, well," he gloated. "Mooncake. How pleasant to see y-"
A fit of coughing took him. Clarence winced at the labored sound and black spittle that dotted the Lord Commander's hand as he tried to cover the display of weakness. Mooncake glared at him with undisguised hatred.
"Save that energy," warned the Lord Commander. "I'm going to need it. See that . . . Mooncake is brought to the command deck."
Viro nodded, gesturing to the goons to move the gravity bind as ordered. In the ensuing bustle, the Lord Commander indulged in a little smirk and a one-note ha of satisfaction before turning away. Clarence stood by the ramp of the Crimson Light, ignored by all. Greed-fueled desperation took him. He refused to be dismissed so unceremoniously.
"And what of my reward for returning Mooncake?" he demanded loudly. "Ten billion dropnoids was the amount offered."
All activity in the docking bay halted. The silence was absolute and weirdly threatening. The Lord Commander stopped in his tracks, then turned and looked at Clarence for the first time. His yellow eyes narrowed as he demanded,
"And you are . . . ?"
"Clarence Polkawitz," he said, doing all he could to sound assured when he was anything but.
"And you want a reward," the Lord Commander paraphrased. He almost seemed bemused at the notion.
"I took a great risk getting Mooncake onto my ship and made a lot of personal sacrifices to get him here," Clarence insisted. He was thinking of Fox and Ash, but really, as personal sacrifices went, that one had been pretty effortless.
"So . . . you want a reward for returning what was stolen from me?" asked the Lord Commander slyly.
Clarence saw the trap being laid. Any answer he made would be twisted around and used against him. Fortunately, he had his scapegoat prepared.
"Yes," he replied, ignoring the fact that Mooncake was a free, sentient being and not anyone's property to be bandied about. "Because I can also tell you the location of the one who stole him from you to begin with."
Fury swept over the Lord Commander and he actually rose into the air, his eyes glowing magenta. His voice dropped low and gravelly as he hissed, "The Gary!"
"The-the Gary?"
The glare leveled at Clarence was nothing short of ferocious. The magenta glow spread to envelope his whole form as the Lord Commander, his small hands clenched into fists, all but spat, "He stole Mooncake. He stole the Ventrexian crown prince. The Gary will pay dearly! I will murder his face on!"
Terrified, Clarence fell back a step, uncertain if levitating and luminescence were good or bad things, either alone or in tandem. He knew, if nothing else, he had to divert this wrath away from himself. His highly refined sense of self-preservation was kicking into high gear, coupled with his instinct to manipulate each and every situation to his own benefit. This change of fortune might net each of them what they wanted most: Mooncake and Captain Goodspeed for the Lord Commander; for himself, untold riches and, dare he even imagine, Avocato.
If nothing else, he could eliminate the competition for the general's attentions.
"You mean Captain Gary Goodspeed?" he ventured in a nervous squeak.
"Did I stutter?" snarled the Lord Commander. He rose higher into the air, his ravaged face ablaze with passion. "That's what I said. The Gary. Where is he?"