The ship was running itself at this point, so Drew and the three men were moving the bodies into the airlock. Stasha couldn't make herself do it, and had in fact been crying for the better part of an hour. They were about to close the airlock door when suddenly Drew got a wild gleam in her eye.
"Damn! I'm really losing it." She ran in and started going through pockets, occasionally finding some money or an expensive trinket. "Would you look at this," she screamed in excitement, "these pants are real leather. I'm telling you these pirates, they know how to dress. I think they're my size, too."
To their horror, she stripped the pirate's pants off and held them up to her.
"Cool!" She pulled them on. "Now, if I can just find a decent shirt."
She started rummaging through the bodies again.
Stasha dried her eyes and decided that she was being silly. She decided to go help the others with their efforts. As she rounded the corner she saw the three men. Behind them she could see the airlock full of bodies. Taralin stood in the middle of the pile. She grabbed the hand of one of the corpses, and held it up out of the pile.
"Hey, sis. What do you think? Is this shirt me, or what?"
Stasha fainted dead away; Zarco caught her.
"Are you happy now?" Zarco asked harshly.
"Is that a rhetorical question, or do you really want me to answer it?" She took the black and red striped shirt off the corpse and smelled the armpit. She made a face, then took off her robe and threw it on the floor. She put on the pirate's shirt, smiled, and looked back to where Zarco held Stasha, who was starting to come around.
"Geez, all I wanted was an honest opinion."
She waded out of the bodies, carrying three knives and a bag filled with loot. At the airlock, she closed the door and pushed the button to open the exterior airlock.
"What are you doing?" Fitz asked in horror.
"Well, why do you think we carried them here, Fitz? For ornamental purposes? I'm giving them burial in space. A moment of silence please, followed by a loud bellowing fart should be appropriate." She was silent, then farted loudly, and started back towards the bridge. "I'm hungry. Wonder if these bastards left anything worth eating." She turned and looked out the portal just in time to see the bodies sucked into space.
"There, we're all cleaned up now. Would someone please close that exterior door?" She turned and walked towards the bridge again, but stopped when she realized no one was following her. They were all looking at her in shock.
"Ah, come on people, they were dead anyway. Most spaceports will hold you at dock for days if you have a body on board. Then the whole crew and the ship have to go through de-tox; which costs the ship's Captain a fortune. So, if your mother dies out here, you bury her in space. That's just the way we do things."
"Well, let me tell you how we do things," Zarco said hotly. "Our religion preaches reverence for the dead. Even if they are our enemies. There is a service and then the bodies are cremated and their ashes spread to the wind."
Drew shrugged and started walking again. "So what's the big difference? Bodies torched and tossed to the wind, or bodies cast into space to implode. That's the problem with religion, there's always all this nit picking."
Drew was sitting at the controls of the ship when the others returned. She pointed at the view screen where a green planet hung in space.
"So, there you go, people. I've punched up co-ordinates, and in eight minutes we will start re-entry procedures. I suggest that you strap in." She got on the comlink.
"Purple Cat to Garbage Scow, do you read?"
"You might have told me you were dumping bodies, Drew," an angry voice spit back.
Drew laughed. "Don't blow a gasket, Van. It will all burn off on re-entry. Come in closer. I'm not expecting hostiles, but considering my cargo, who knows?"
"I read, and am changing grid in accordance."
"Oh, baby, I love it when you talk that comlink lingo. Hey, Van . . ."
"Yes?"
"I miss you."
"I miss you, too."
"Over."
"Over and out."
"Why is that thing following us?" Jealousy dripped freely from Zarco's lips.
"Because I have no reason to trust you people. For all I know, you need a good Salvager for your war efforts. Lots of governments have tried to buy me before. You might have heard of my memory loss and cooked up this whole thing. How do I even know you are who you say you are?"
"But the Lockhedes!"
"You might have fooled them, too."
"What about your friend, Erik? You heard what he said!" Fitz said.
"Hell, Erik was running smugglers. Which means he'd sell his sister into prostitution to turn a buck. No, I hate to tell you all this, but you still haven't convinced me that this whole thing isn't just some cock and bull story."
"But the war is over. We have never had any need for Salvagers and we sure don't need any now that we're at peace," Zarco said.
"Maybe you'd better tell the Lockhedes the war is over, because I'm not sure they know it. Besides, usually after the war is when you need a good Salvager most. The country is usually going through a post-war depression, and they could really use all the metal and parts that got left on the battle field."
"I have crews . . ."
"That can't get half as much use out of scrap as one good Salvager. And I'm the best." She smiled, and her ego all but glowed right through her teeth."Everyone knows that."
"My country is quite solvent. We don't need to trade in trash," Zarco started.
"Salvage." Drew corrected.
"You are ridiculous!" Facto hissed.
"Yeah, well, you're a shit-head."
"I still want to know why he's following us," Zarco said.
"Protection. Plain and simple." She didn't elaborate.
"Commencing re-entry in 5, 4, 3, 2 . . ."
The ship started to rock as they hit the planet's atmosphere.
"This looks like it could get rough . . ."
A siren started wailing.
"What's wrong?" Stasha screamed in obvious panic. She hadn't lived her sister's life of the last five years, and she'd had just about all the excitement she could handle for one day.
"Shit!" Drew started punching buttons. "Fuck!"
"What's wrong?" Zarco demanded.
"Purple Cat calling Garbage Scow. Fuck it! Van, do you hear me?"
"Loud and clear."
"What's wrong?" Zarco screamed.
"We're all going to die horribly if you Royal fucks don't shut up!" Drew screamed back. "That's what's wrong."
"Van, the descent engines won't kick in. I've got no forward thrusters."
"Go to manual."
"Oh, gee, fuzz head. I never would have thought of that. I have taken it off computer. The computer isn't the problem. So, unless by 'manual' you mean that I should go turn the propeller by hand, we'd better come up with something else, because the gravitational pull is only going to increase."
"Can you reach escape velocity?"
Drew checked her readings.
"I don't have enough fuel to break the planet's pull now. Why didn't you think of that earlier?"
She looked out the front screen at the planet rushing towards her, and had to swallow the lump in her throat. "God, this isn't my fucking day!" Think, she had to think, there was always a way out. Damn pirate ship, if only she was on her good ole salvage barge . . . Salvage barge.
"That's it! Van, snag us with the tow-line and tow us in."
"That might rip your ship apart."
"I'd rather die up here than down there. Come on, Van."
"Get ready."
Van Gar looked at the human. "Hang on to your hat, monkey boy, we're going to lasso us a ship."
He turned the Garbage Scow's descent engines off for awhile, and allowed it to get dangerously close to the other ship, then he released the tow-line, slammed the descent engines back on, and turned on the electro magnet at the end of the tow-line.
"Prepare for hook-up."
When the tether caught hold of the other ship, it jerked both ships roughly.
"You're on tether."
"Really, Van? I thought my head just wanted to go visit Mr. Back Wall," she spit back. "Are you going to be able to guide us in?"
"Not really."
The ships shook violently.
"You have to realize, Drew, that most of the time we're towing in something that doesn't have anything living in it. Besides, when we have towed something, it has always been behind us."
"What are you saying, Van?"
"Well, let's just say that I'm in a wagon, and you're pulling me, and there's a hole in the road, so you have to stop."
"Yeah, so?"
"Well, let's say that you don't see the hole, and I have to make the wagon stop by dragging my hands on the ground."
Drew thought for a minute. "When I finally see the hole and stop, you still won't be able to."
"It's taking everything the reverse thrusters have now to keep us from plowing into the planet. I have no control over where the Scow is going, it's just following your lead."
"So, I'll lead, then," she answered thoughtfully.
"Drew, what are you going to do?"
"Put on protective headgear and start looking for a hole."
"Good luck."
"We're going to need it."
Drew had her hands on the ship's control, manually guiding both ships. Her eyes hurriedly went over charts and graphs.
"Van, we're going in."
She could practically hear the whine of the Garbage Scow's engines as it strained to keep both ships from crashing into the planet's surface. They were getting close now.
"Van, release the tether. Now!"
"Roger." He pulled up on the release, and the smaller ship dove like a rock. He ran well over the top of it and landed roughly in a pile of sand. He shut the ship down and then he quickly threw off his helmet and started out of the ship.
"Come on, monkey boy." There was no answer. The human sat limp in his chair. "Ah, damn. I wish I'd been nicer to him, now."
Van Gar exited the ship, stepped into the soft sand and sank up to the top of his boots. He looked down at the Purple Cat, which lay at the bottom of the dune he had landed on top of. A good quarter of its nose was covered. It lay there in the bottom of the hole like an egg in a bird's nest, and seemed to be intact. Of course, the Garbage Scow appeared to be intact, and the navigator was still dead. The sand slowed his pace, and it seemed like it took hours for him to reach the ship, when in fact it took only a few minutes. He beat on the hatch.
"Drew, Drew, can you hear me? Drew!" He had just turned to go back to the Scow and get the torch when the hatch opened, and Drew stepped out of the ship.
"So, I fell in the hole. What happened to your wagon?"
Facto appeared to have broken an arm, and they were all pretty shaky, but aside from that, they had all survived their crash. They started the climb up the dune towards the Garbage Scow.
"So, do you know where we are?" Van asked Drew.
"Some big desert on the planet Gar. I was just looking for a soft place to land, I wasn't taking in place names."
"There is only one desert on the planet, and that is the Galdart," Fitz sounded less that happy.
"So, we are in the Galdart desert." Drew shrugged. She looked at Facto. "What's the big deal?"
"This desert is two thousand miles across, the temperatures can reach one hundred thirty degrees in the day and thirty-two at night. There is no water, and the only organic life form is the Hurtella," Fitz informed them.
"So, we put out a distress signal, and someone will come pick us up in less than an hour."
"The Galdart desert is in the middle of the country of the Lockhede," Facto said harshly. "Of all the places to land us, you would land us here."
"Would you rather I have smashed you into a mountain closer to home?" Drew said hotly. "Besides, it's not even hot here."
"That's because night is falling, even as we speak."
"Oh."
She looked at Van Gar, whose jump suit was hanging open till it was almost indecent. She also noticed that his cuffs flapped in the breeze. "Van, fasten up your suit, you're going to get sand all in your hair."
"I can't, I ripped the Velcro off of them," he said, adamantly.
"Why?" Drew asked, shaking her head.
"Rats," Van answered, and stomped into the ship.
Drew looked around at the others. "Did I miss something?"
Drew went and got a beer out of the fridge and opened it.
"Could we send a message to your people?" she asked Zarco.
"I'm afraid any transmission would be picked up by the Lockhedes, and they would get here first. And they are our people, yours and mine." Drew made a gurgling sound, which could have meant anything, and began punching up screen after screen of what looked to him like nothing but garbled letters and numbers. But it was obvious that she was reading it.
"Couldn't we take this ship and go to our country?" Zarco asked
"The Scow won't be going anywhere for a long time." It was obvious by the tone of Van Gar's voice that he blamed Zarco personally for what had happened to his ship. "Bringing in both ships like that burned out all four thrusters. We're lucky we're not all dead."
"Speaking of dead," Drew shook her head towards the navigator.
Without a word, Van Gar went over, picked him up and carried him out.
"Where the fuck is everyone?" Drew asked Zarco.
"Fitz and Facto went to find medical equipment with which to fix Facto's arm, and I believe your sister went to her quarters. I'm afraid it's all been a bit much for her, and the sight of one more corpse was more than she could handle." He looked around."So, at long last, we are alone."
She turned to face him, then looked around quickly to see if it was true. Her distaste showed on her face.
"You really don't remember me, Taral . . . Drewcila, but I remember you. You are so different, and yet in so many ways, you are so much the same. If I scrape away all the hardness, I can still see you. I have to wonder if we are not all just victims of our circumstances. I see in you all the same traits you once had, but they have twisted to fit your new life. Your keen mind has saved us more than once. In a way, I love you more than I ever have."
He moved close to her, and took her in his arms. She started to push away, then decided to see just what he was up to.
"Please, just this. I ask no more of you now. Please, it has been so long. I know you don't know me, but believe that I know you, that I love you. If I could do it again, it would all be so different. Oh, how I have ached to hold you, to caress you."
Curiosity over came her better judgment . . . the way it usually did . . . and she wrapped her arms around his neck. When his lips met hers, she responded. She felt him warm against her, and she was not repulsed. He wasn't a bad little kisser, either. But she certainly didn't feel any deep stirring within herself.
Someone coughed, and then coughed louder. She pushed easily away from Zarco. "What do you want, Van Gar?"
"Sorry to bother you, but I thought you would be interested to know that I have disposed of the corpse now," Van Gar said through clenched teeth.
"Thank you, Van Gar," Drew said.
"I'll just go check on the others," Zarco swept off the bridge, giving Van Gar a heated look as he passed him.
Van Gar walked purposefully over to check a read-out which he then didn't even bother to look at.
"Don't think I'm trying to tell you what to do . . ." Van Gar started.
"I don't know why not, since that sentence is always followed by you doing just exactly that," Drew said.
"I was just going to say that if that was part of your plan to make him hate you, I'm pretty sure that it's not going to work."
"He kissed me," Drew said plainly.
"And a mighty battle you did put up," Van Gar hissed.
"How I choose to conduct business is up to me, Van Gar." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I think I know what I'm doing. I have a plan."
"I didn't know your plan included sleeping with Zarco!"
"Maybe I've changed my plans."
"What changed your mind, Drew? His tongue down your throat?"
"Maybe," Drew turned back to the screen, already tired of this argument, and not quite sure what they were arguing about. She frowned.
"That couldn't be right." She punched some buttons. "Damn!" She started walking off the bridge, and Van Gar followed.
"What is it?"
"According to the read-outs, the ship has sunk three feet since we hit."
They opened the hatch, and walked out.
"At least three feet," Van said.
"Van, look!" Van turned, and looked down the dune at where the Purple Cat had lain. It could no longer be seen.
"That doesn't make any sense. The Garbage Scow is twice as heavy."
"And spread out over ten times as much surface area. Still, at the rate it's sinking, it will be covered by morning."
Drew looked at Van Gar. "Life sucks! My beautiful Garbage Scow, doomed to sink into the sands of this stupid planet. I've only been here a few hours Van, and I already hate this place. It was a stupid plan. I wanted to be Queen of the Salvagers, now we're gonna wind up Hurtella food. Whatever the hell a Hurtella is."
"It's not your fault, Drew."
"Damn right it's not! If you had kept up with me the way you were supposed to none of this would have happened!"
He ignored her outburst, put his arm around her shoulders and pressed her hard against him. "You can fool everyone else, and tell them whatever you like, but I know you didn't decide to do this because of the money. You did it to find out who you are, and no one could blame you for that."
"What utter crap," Drew said in a not-very-convincing tone. "I wasn't lying. He really did kiss me first."
There was a long silence, and then Drew looked up at Van Gar and smiled sadistically.
"Of course, that's not to say I didn't enjoy it."
Van Gar laughed and pushed her down in the sand.
"There's a chance that we may be able to take all the thrusters apart and make one of them work."
"We can't take off with one thruster," Drew said standing up and trying to wipe the sand off of her jump suit.
"No, but we can keep the ship from getting buried in the sand long enough to figure out how to get out of here."
It didn't take them long to rebuild a thruster. Of course, clearing the sand out of the exhaust was another story. They took turns shoveling.
"This damn shit runs in the hole faster than we can shovel it out." Van Gar stopped for a minute leaning on his shovel. He tried to wipe the sand off of his stomach.
Drew smiled. "Why did you rip the Velcro off your jump suit?"
"Rats," he answered, and started digging again.
"I still don't get it." Drew laughed. "Maybe I should go in and get those Royal fucks to help us?"
"While you're at it, why don't you just get some fairies to wave their magic wand and just put the Scow back in orbit?"
"Want me to take over for awhile?" Drew asked.
"Nah. Why don't you do me a favor? I keep hearing something over on the other side of the ship. Maybe it's one of those creatures old what's his face was talking about."
"A Hurtella?"
"How come you can remember that, but you can't remember to clean the garbage chute?"
She ignored the question. "Fitz didn't say that they were hostile."
"Well, he didn't say they weren't. Just take the blaster and go check for me."
Drew got up and carefully dusted herself off. She picked up the blaster, and threw it over her shoulder. "Sissy little mama's boy," she yelled back.
Van Gar kept on shoveling. "Pain in the ass," he grumbled. "Stupid Royal fucks."
"Hey, Van!"
Van raised up so fast he hit his head on the bottom of the ship. He backed up against the wall of his pit and stared at the human in amazement.
"Tim?" Van asked, holding his shovel in front of him as if it would ward off evil spirits.
"Yeah," he coughed and spat out some sand.
"I must have fainted. Guess I don't handle stress well. How'd I wind up in the sand?"
Van hated to tell him he had thrown him away for dead. "Uh . . . Last I knew, you were sacked out on the bridge, guess you sleep-walked, dude."
The human shook his head as if the answer made perfect sense. "I woke up and the only thing sticking out was my nose. I had to dig myself out. It was a very frightening experience."
"I'm sure it was."
He was interrupted by the sound of blaster fire. He quickly climbed out of the hole and ran towards the noise, shovel in hand. About half-way round the ship he almost ran into Drew. She laughed at the sight of him.
"Better bring a shovel—make that ten shovels." She held up an armored creature about twelve inches long from tip to tail. "If you don't, the terrible Hurtella will get you for sure."
"Very funny, Drew. While you're fucking around, our hole, which we have been digging for about forty-five minutes, is filling with sand." He held a hand to his heart."One of these days you're going to give me a heart attack."
Drew smiled, threw the creature down, and followed him. "Do you care about me, Van?"
"Where the hell did that come from?" he asked doubling his pace.
"I've had a shit of a couple of days here Van. I'm feeling a little weird, indulge me."
"That's a stupid question, Drew," he said flatly.
"You know what I mean, Van."
"Would it matter if I did?" he asked, continuing his pace.
She ran to catch up with him and caught at his hand. "Now you're asking stupid questions."
"What's going to happen to us, Drew?"
"We'll be fine."
"I meant us?"
"I don't know, Van. It seems like yesterday our lives were all orderly."
Van shot her a look.
"Well, you know, like a dirty room, but you know where everything is—that kind of orderly."
"But don't you see, Drew? You didn't know where everything was. Now you do, and things are going to change. We don't know exactly how right now, but it's gottah change."
She tripped over the human on her way into the pit. "What the fuck?"
"Damn it, Tim." Van leaned down and slapped the human's face.
"Come on, Tim, snap out of it."
"I thought he was dead," Drew said.
"No. It seems that this really great navigator you got me goes to sleep if he gets scared."
"Oh, you're fucking kidding me!" Drew laughed.
"No, he walked up behind me right after you left, and like to scared the shit out of me. I told him he sleep-walked."
The human started to stir.
"The port's still clear. Let's go start the thruster before we have to dig it out again."
"Ten more minutes, mom," Tim mumbled as they pulled him to his feet.
"Come on, monkey boy," Van Gar pushed him forward. "Time to go home."