Cube Rube

Chapter 2

Chapter 2The next morning, Jack got Misty and himself some breakfast, and then Jack looked into the cube to find out what the Imperial Patrol was doing.

Slowly, its sides lost their reflectivity and an image formed.

The cabin of the Imperial Patrol vessel.

“—no sign of activity. Maybe he's laying low until we get distracted,” one said.

“With that long a criminal record, I'd say he doesn't know when to lay low. What about that girl, the one he was with on the monitors?”

“What about her?”

“Think we should report her to Captain Jenks? He did say to report any suspicious planetside activity immediately.”

“What's suspicious about a girl? Especially a native brat?”

The other patrol officer was silent a moment, looking pensive. “This scavenger is a loner. She's clearly a ground-dog. Doesn't make sense, their pairing up like that.”

“There you go thinking again.”

“What do you suppose happened that he'd want immediate reports? He's never expressed the slightest interest in this sector, much less the planet itself.”

The other man extended a hand toward a tactiface, moved a few manipules until data spilled down the screen. “ 'Canis Dogma Five, former Capital of the Circian Empire, whose last remnants collapsed in three hundred BTE'—over fifteen hundred years ago—'after ruling the galaxy for nearly a millennium.' ” His eyes scanned the fountain of text.

“Maybe it's Torgassan Paranoia,” said the other man. Clearly from one of the subjugated worlds, he wore a Torgassan Patrol uniform, swore fealty to the Torgassan Emperor, got paid out of the Torgassan coffers, but was no more Torgassan than his shipmate.

“Listen to this: 'Despite numerous attacks by rival empires, the Circians fought very few wars. The fifty or so naval engagements they are known to have had all ended in the surrender or negotiated capitulation of their opponents. They were never the victor by means of the outright defeat of their enemies.' ” He turned to his companion. “Now, that's influence!”

Influence that Emperor Torgas wished he had, Jack was thinking.

“Influence that Emperor Torgas wished he had,” said the other man, his face empty of expression.

Jack jumped, and the cube turned silver again.

* * *

“They don't look very friendly.”

Jack wasn't about to let that stop him. They stood on a cracked and pitted major boulevard six blocks north of Misty's tower apartment, surrounded by rag-clad natives, each bearing a weapon, every weapon aimed at them.

After they'd eavesdropped on the Imperial Patrol, they had set out to find the other natives of Canis Dogma Five. They'd followed the wide boulevard, an occasional skeleton of toppled skyscraper blocking their path. They'd have made better time if they hadn't had to climb through the detritus. The boulevard itself was a veritable forest but a pygmy one, the thin, scraggly trees barely eking out nutrients from the rock-hard surface, most of them sprouting from seams.

Jack held out his hands to show they were empty. “I come to ask a favor. My name is Jack.”

A large man with a heavy spear and even heavier gut replied, “You fell from the stars two nights ago, and the Imperial Patrol looks for you. Why shouldn't we sell you to them?”

“Because I helped this girl bury her grandfather, Augustus Circi.”

The man lowered the spear. “The old man finally died?”

“About two weeks ago,” Misty told him.

“I'm sorry for you loss,” the heavy man said. “We honor those who help with our dead. Thank you, stranger Jack who fell from the stars. Come, and ask you favor in private. Away from the Patrol's prying eyes.” He looked overhead as if expecting a patrol craft any moment, then signaled to the group.

Warriors melted into the surroundings like wraiths.

“I'm Xerxes, and my home is this way.” He gestured to an alley between derelict buildings that looked none too inviting.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Jack realized it was free of the detritus that littered the rest of the ruins. The smells of dank and dusty decay were absent too. Misty followed obediently at his elbow. The alley turned into a tunnel, then a corridor, and beyond a heavy curtain, an abode, the scents of home and food unmistakable.

“There she is,” said a woman's voice. “Didn't I tell you, Xerk, that we'd be seeing the waif? How are you, my girl? Misty, isn't it? I'm your great aunt once removed, Gertrude. You can just call me Trude.” Her manner was just as robust as her girth and her voice. If her man was large then she was larger.

Trude was a good name for her, Jack was thinking.

“That's Princess Misty,” the girl said, a hand to her hip and her shoulder thrust forward. “And I'm anything but a waif!”

“Anything but is for certain, no question there. And who's the gentleman escort, your Highness?” From anyone else, it might have been mockery, but from Trude it actually sounded respectful.

“Captain Jack,” Misty said, “this is my Great Aunt Trude, once removed.”

“Enchanted,” Jack said, inclining his head.

“Mutual, Captain, and welcome.”

“And you were right,” Xerxes said to his wife. “Augustus is dead.”

“Now wasn't that what I was sayin'?” she asked in an “I-told-you-so” voice. “Knew it was comin', Princess, as he hadn't been well.”

“Jack helped me put him to rest,” Misty said, “and then brought me here.”

“And a right thing, too,” Trude said, looking Jack over again. “A good deed sometimes gets rewarded. Anything we can do, just you name it.”

“Um …” Jack looked around the lodgings, the walls clean if dingy with smoke from ill-ventilated fires, the carpets threadbare if in good repair, the furniture crude but looking comfortable even so, the walls riddled with cubbies full of useful items. “There is something I'd like to ask of you both. I brought Misty here not knowing of her relation, just knowing she needs care—care I can't give just yet. If I may ask—”

“But Jack,” Misty cried, “you said you'd take me to the palace!” She looked as if about to weep.

“And I will,” he protested, “if your aunt and uncle are willing, but I need a few days.” He saw she wasn't believing him. “You know—to make arrangements.”

“For what? We don't need arrangements! I'm the Princess!”

“But even the Princess needs the proper attire, Misty. You said so yourself. And it's much more proper and fitting if you received an invitation to the palace. Getting one will take a little time.” Not bad, Jack thought to himself. I should confabulate more often, I'm pretty good at it.

Her face scrunched in disbelief. “But why should I stay here? How are you going to know if the clothes will fit if I don't go with you?”

“Well, I've got some trading to do before I'll have any money to buy the clothes. I'll be back in a few days.” She still looked doubtful, so he added, “I promise.”

She seemed to relent, then looked sad. “You sure you'll come back?”

“I'm sure,” he said with quiet confidence.

“Oh good,” she said, suddenly brightening, and then threw herself into his arms.

He couldn't help but embrace her. He didn't quite know how else to respond, but the warmth he felt deep inside made the whole trip worthwhile.

“He'll still have to get our permission, your Highness,” Trude said softly.

“Of course,” Misty said lightly, looking up at Jack with a smile that melted away all doubt he had about returning.

* * *

In retrospect, lodging the girl with her relative Circians had gone far more smoothly than he could have imagined.

Making his departure far more difficult than he could have imagined.

As Jack trudged doggedly back to the way he'd come, doubts gnawed at him.

I should go back for her, he thought a hundred times en route to his ship.

I'll miss her too much, he thought.

How can I do this to her? he wondered, his guilt adding to his indecision and regret.

Once you leave, you'll never return for her, he remonstrated himself. You never planned to return for her in the first place, he thought in self-recrimination.

The thought of her being left in the care of strangers was so reminiscent of how he had once felt as an abandoned orphan that Jack burst into tears and almost turned around on the spot.

He tore his gaze from over his shoulder and forced himself to continue southward, his surroundings blurry. A bystander might have thought him injured he wailed so disconsolately.

Back at his ship, hidden under a building at the base of a chute leading up the boulevard, Jack checked for signs of tampering or attempts at forced entry. Seeing none, he disarmed the gene-lock.

The ship did a quick gene analysis, then opened the hatch.

In the copilot's chair sat Misty.

“How…?” Between his befuddlement, relief, joy, and dismay, Jack didn't know what to say.

She looked abashed, as thought he might punish her.

Instead, he knelt at her feet and buried his head in her lap, weeping uncontrollably and protesting how terribly grateful he was that she'd disobeyed him and begging abjectly for her forgiveness.

“We'd better get going,” she said sometime later.

He nodded mutely, wondering how he'd become enamored of her so quickly and why she had such faith in a terrible scoundrel like him. He also wondered how he could act such a fool and engage in such lugubrious buffoonery.

He looked over at her from the pilot's chair. “I'm not a very good person sometimes.”

She looked ancient in her nine, elongated years. “You're always a good person, but your choices aren't always good.”

He dropped his gaze to the controls, remembering what awaited them. He still didn't know how they were going to evade the Imperial Patrol, but he sensed he'd probably use the cube.

Setting it on the console, he gazed at it silvery sides, which promptly dissolved into iridescent rainbows. The patrol cabin materialized, the two officers scanning their instruments.

“Why do you suppose the Captain wants these ground-dog travels documented? What a waste of resources!”

“There you go thinking too much,” the other one replied.

“And why electromagnetic activity? They don't have electricity. All we'll get on that is background static.”

Jack looked at Misty.

“Concentrate on disappearing,” she said.

He wrinkled his brow, remembering how he'd influenced them before as they stood outside the culvert, debating whether to go in after the two evaders.

“I wonder where that scavenger went. You think he's still groundside?”

“We'd know if he wasn't. A ship that size leaves a trail visible from the primary. Don't worry, we'll see it easily from geosynch.”

You think I'm gone already, Jack thought.

“You know what I think? Gone already.”

You think I have a cloak, Jack thought.

“If I were him, I'd have a ship-cloak. Probably has contraband aboard right now. I don't think we'll see him at all.”

“I think you're right. I think he's long since gone.”

Jack powered up the ship. The hum of finely-tuned engineering vibrated the seat beneath him. Hold that thought! he thought, you won't see me at all!

He steered the ship out of its subterranean parkway space and pointed it at the stars.

Aboard the Imperial Patrol, sensors alarms began to flash, blaring their warnings at the two slack-jawed, empty-eyed patrolmen.

Jack engaged the main engine and launched the ship skyward. Two incognizant patrolmen watched without a twitch as their monitors tracked the Salvager.

Just get us off planet, he told the cube. Once in space, he could evade with a series of random hops.

Misty watched placidly, if attentively, from the co-pilot's chair.

As they hit the ionosphere, a thought occurred to Jack: “How did you get past the gene-lock?” He turned to stare at Misty.

Wide-eyed, she blinked at him.

“Bogey, bearing eight-one-nine, engage!” The patrolmen came to life.

“We've been spotted!” Jack picked the Vulpecula system at random and dropped the ship into an evasion pattern.

Just before the first hop, the ship slewed.

“Tractor beam” flashed on the screen, and Jack cursed.

The stars blanked out and a new set replaced them, but the patrol clung tenaciously.

“Come on, baby, shake 'em!”

The stars blanked again, and a fiery sun appeared a parsec away. “Tractor beam” continued to flash.

“You're under arrest,” blared their speakers, the patrol using an override to commandeer the Scavenger's com system.

“Kiss my black hole!” Jack said, reversing the polarity to the hull in the hopes of breaking the tractor beam's hold.

The ship hopped again, and they appeared inside a nebula briefly, the thick plasmas nearly sending the shields into overload, but also weakening the tractor beam further.

The next hop took them to the Seven Sisters, and the “tractor beam” warning died.

“We did it!” Jack said, exulting, but he let the ship complete three more random hops before he was sure.

On the fourth hop, the Tuscana constellation appeared around them, and Jack powered down the ship, leaving on only the passive sensors. Without engines or other active systems, they would look like a derelict floating aimlessly in space.

Jack looked at the cube.

The silver surface stared back at him blankly.

Just in case, he willed them to be transparent.

The cube surface turned black.

“I knew you could do it, Jack!” Misty said with a squeal.

“We did it, or at least I think we did. Just to make sure, we'll wait awhile. Let's get something to eat while we wait,” he told Misty, “and then we gotta sell that hold full of junk before I can take you to Torgas Prime.”