You didn't get to be as rich and powerful as Drewcila Qwah had become because you were slow witted and unobservant. It didn't take a genius to realize what it meant, that she couldn't find a single familiar face among the palace guards, or that they held themselves more like aristocrats than soldiers.
She wasn't surprised. It was more or less what she had expected to find. These men were too stupid to pretend to approve of her, much less give her a friendly greeting. The men Drew had handpicked to fill these positions would have had her on their shoulders by now, carrying her towards the bar.
When she was met halfway through the palace gardens by Zarco and some new ass licker, with no sign of Facto or her sister, she knew that things were even worse than she had anticipated. That, in fact, she might have bitten off considerably more than even she was able to comfortably chew.
"Oh, my darling," Zarco embraced her."Thank the gods you are all right. When I heard you had been caught up in the fire fight . . ."
"Fire fight, what fucking fire fight?" Drew shoved forcefully away from him."What the hell are you talking about? A Lockhede battle cruiser locked on us and opened fire. We fired back. They lost. We won. Yay, good guys! Unfortunately, our ship was buggered up, and we had to make an emergency landing. Not the easiest thing to do on a good day, and made worse because some moron screwed up all the communications on the planet and surrounding space. So, I guess what I really want to know is . . . Are we the morons that fried all the communications on this planet, or would that be them?"
Zarco turned to glare at Atario.
"Sire . . . Our ships had been ordered to that sector. I naturally assumed . . ."
"You're a lying little worm, aren't you, butt kiss? I can call you butt kiss can't I? Me being queen, and you being a flunky and all?" Drewcila said, glaring at Atario with utter contempt. He turned a very gratifying shade of red, and was visibly seething."That's what I thought." She turned her attention back to Zarco."All right, idiot, what did you do with Facto, my sister, and for that matter, all my people?"
"You will not talk to me in such a way, Taralin . . ."
"Oh, you're on that kick again, are you? So let me guess, you have put the whole country at war, ruined my profit margin, and destroyed the economy of our planet because years ago the Lockhedes kidnapped me . . ."
"The Lockhedes are our sworn enemies."
"It's in our best interest to make trade with them now. They are crippled as a nation. Let them trade with us, and they in fact work for us. We hold all the contracts, we control all the shipping, we tax the living shit out of them, and we take them over slowly, economically, and so painlessly that they don't even know what's happening till it's too late. I say let bygones be bygones, and get on with the business of commerce."
"I will not be party to mollycoddling the Lockhedes. For the gods' sake, Tara . . ." Drew glared at him. '. . . Drewcila. These monsters stole you away from me. They tortured you. They took out part of your brain."
"Gee! And what a loss that was! I could have gone on being one of you boring royal fucks the rest of my life. Oh, boo hoo, boo hoo. Get over it, move on, next page already." Drew started to walk towards the castle."You didn't answer my questions. Where are my sister and Facto?"
"I have sent Facto, his wife, and your sister, as well as your advisors to a place of safety. We can't very well have all the heads of state in one location during a time of war," Zarco answered quickly.
"Gee, now that didn't sound like bullshit at all," Drewcila whispered to Jurak, who nodded silently.
"What's that?" Zarco asked quickly.
"I asked him if, after we go through all this boring formal bullshit, he'd like to ball."
Zarco grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and spun her around to face him."Damn it . . . you will not talk this way to me. You will not. You will show me respect!"
His fingers were pressing hard on the flesh of her shoulder, hard enough to leave a bruise, but Drewcila canceled her conditioned response which was to knee him in the nuts. Right now he held all the cards. She didn't believe for a minute that he'd sent Stasha, Facto and Margot off to some safe house, and there was no way he could have forced Arcadia to leave when she knew that Drewcila was on her way. No, he had done something with them, and she had to play this game his way a couple of hands, until she found out just exactly what he had up his sleeve.
Of course, it would be easy for her to play his game, because she knew exactly what his weakness was. It was easy for her to understand, largely because she was sitting on it about half the time.
Instead of attacking him she leaned into him so that her lips brushed his ear."I like it rough." She moved and winked at him."I'll be good, daddy." She turned and started walking again, and the others followed.
"Where's your big friend?" Zarco asked, nervously looking around.
"Which one?" Drew asked a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Van Gar."
"He left me to join a religious cult," Drew answered. She didn't have to fake the sad, slightly confused tone that entered her voice.
"Is this one of your twisted jokes? A trick?" Zarco asked a hint of anger in his voice.
"Don't I wish. The bastard stole one of my best ships."
"Why?" Zarco asked curiously.
Drewcila turned, but didn't stop walking, seeming to walk backwards as easily as she walked forward, reminding him of the perfect grace she had once displayed in court."Why do you think? I started to remember." Her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper."I started to remember you, being with you. Our love . . . He couldn't stand it."
Hope bloomed within Zarco, and he knew in that moment that he had his wife back. Oh, she still needed some tutorage on how to act and stay in her place, but if she remembered their great love, then everything else would come easily.
Soon Van Gar had successfully gotten the support of most of the colony. It wasn't actually very hard to convince most of his "brothers and sisters" that they were not actually better off here on Utarus than they had been when they were "strewn across the heavens." The evidence was all around them. In the hard physical labor they did daily, which brought the reward of bowls of green gloppy stuff twice a day. It was there in the constant stench from each other, and in the remembrance of what their lives had been before they had been "saved."
The real problem was that most of them had no place to go. They had given away their worldly possessions and signed over all their property and anything else they had of value. If they left here, where would they go?
That was, of course, how Van Gar had picked up all but a fistful of stragglers, by promising them that if they helped him get off the planet and topple The Reverend Pard Jar, aka the Pride Leader, that he would find them a better homeland. He didn't really figure this was too tall an order. Anything with water and plant life would be an improvement.
This angle had occurred to him one night as he lay staring at Drewcila's name stamped on the plastic-coated cardboard ceiling above him. Most of the Chitzskies had been close, so close to following him, but many were still unsure. After all, even a cardboard box on a planet of dust and rock, and green glop twice a day, was better than nothing. He'd needed something to convince them.
They'd all understood that the next ship that landed would be their chance at escape, but it wouldn't hold them all. Most of them would be forced to stay behind until other ships could be sent to evacuate them. The ship that landed wouldn't be empty, either, it would be filled to the gunnels with their Chitzsky brothers and sisters, consumed with the fever of the recently converted. They'd have to be deprogrammed. They weren't likely to give up their dreams of Utopia without a fight.
That was the real rub. Van Gar was asking them to fight their own people—something he'd learned the hard way was no small task—to make it possible for some of them to leave the planet while the rest would be expected to stay behind with the hope of being rescued. Towards what end? They had nowhere to go. They had given up everything to be here.
So leaving just didn't sound like such a great idea.
While Van Gar had been lying there trying to figure out what he could use to tip the scales in his favor, he found himself asking what Drewcila would do, and the answer had been clear. She'd feed them a line of bullshit. She wouldn't stop at just getting off the planet. Oh, no! She'd find a way to get everything that the good Reverend had stolen from his people, and she'd find a way to keep it while making all the Chitzskies believe that she was their great and unselfish savior.
So he told them that if they worked together they could get off the planet. He would take all the best fighters with him. Together they would find the "Pride Leader" and take back what was theirs. Then Van Gar would take the money and go in search of a better place for them all while they went back for the others. It wouldn't be hard to keep his promise. Property that would be deemed useless by most planets would look like heaven after Utarus. He'd buy a big plot of land for the "colony," he'd pocket the bulk of the money, and be half a galaxy away before they had a chance to realize that they'd been swindled yet again—if they ever did. And he wouldn't feel guilty, because they'd still be a hell of a lot better off than they were now.
This would be a scam worthy of the great one, and he might finally gain some respect in her eyes. Drewcila couldn't possibly ignore such a great swindle, and he'd have riches of his own, be his own man. He'd be her equal.
Of course she'd never see it that way, or at least she'd never let on that she did. But in the end, as long as he knew different, what did it matter what Drewcila or anyone else thought?
Now the plans had been made, the trap was ready, and all that was left was to wait for the ship to land.
Shreta moved to lay beside him, and he cringed."Can't sleep?" she asked.
"Not yet. I'm trying," Van Gar mustered a smile.
"Worried about tomorrow?"
"Not really. The ship will land. If everything goes as planned, by this time tomorrow we should be half a galaxy away."
"Then what were you thinking about?"
Van Gar sighed. They said it was good to talk about your problems. Who knew? Maybe if he talked about it he could get a handle on things. At the very least, maybe if she understood that he loved someone else, she'd quit her not-so-subtle attempts to have her way with him.
"Her," Van Gar said pointing at the ceiling.
"Who?" Shreta said, looking to where he pointed with confusion.
"Qwah . . . Drewcila Qwah. Do you know who she is?"
"A salvaging mogul, isn't she?"
"Yes, and Queen of Barious, and a giant pain in the ass, and . . . the only woman I have ever or will ever love," Van Gar said, his anguish clear in the tone of his voice.
"Oh," Shreta said, looking crushed."Then it's not just me?"
"No . . . Well, yes, it's you, too. I like you, but I find you sexually repulsive. Nothing personal."
"Because you love someone else?" Shreta asked hopefully.
"Yes, I suppose so," Van Gar answered kindly.
"If you love her so much, then what are you doing here without her?" Shreta asked gently.
"I . . . we had a fight. She's basically . . . well, she's an egotistical little bitch with the morals of a Farak in heat . . ." He found himself pouring out his soul to her. Even telling her what he'd come home to find."She doesn't understand why it should upset me," he finished.
"A goat?" Shreta asked.
"She said it belonged to the midget."
Shreta nodded, as if that made perfect sense."What are you going to do?"
"Clean up this mess and go back to her. Back to my life with her."
"On her terms?" Shreta obviously disapproved.
Van Gar laughed, "That's the nature of Drewcila. There are only her terms. I know that in her own way she loves me. If I just let things go, when I'm not trying to make her behave the way I want her to . . . Well, we have a really good time. We used to go everywhere and do everything together. We laughed a lot, fought side by side, and there were even moments of great tenderness. Then I . . . Well, I loved her, so I wanted things between us to change. But Drew was happy with things the way they were, and the more I tried to change things . . ." Realization suddenly dawned upon him, "the more I tried to make Drewcila do things, the more distance she put between us. The more I tried to keep her all to myself, the less time she spent with me, and the more lovers she took. She's right . . . Oh, my gods! The bitch was right. She didn't change. I did. I started making demands, and I should know better than anyone else that when you order Drew to do something, then that is the last thing she will be likely to do."
"You're actually blaming yourself for her bad behavior," Shreta said in disbelief.
"It's not bad behavior, Shreta. It's just Drew behavior." Van Gar settled back onto the floor trying to get comfortable."The way to handle Drew is not to handle her at all. Just let her do whatever she likes, and then she's happy. And when she's happy, I'm happy. Thanks, Shreta."
"Ah . . . you're welcome . . . I guess."
Zarco was exhausted. He looked over at Drewcila draped in a satin sheet, puffing on a cigar.
"That was so . . . professional," Zarco said.
"Thanks. I pride myself in being efficient," Drew answered."So now . . . let's get down to brass tacks here. You put us in a war. I don't want the war. I want it over. I want my recycling centers turned back into recycling centers . . ."
"We just made love," Zarco reminded gently.
"Gee, I said thanks," Drewcila said."What do you want, applause?"
"You . . . you don't remember anything!" Zarco accused.
"No wait, wait," she turned and snuffed her cigar out on the bedside table."I'm remembering something," she turned back around to face him."You've always been an egotistical, pompous little ass, haven't you?"
"I swear to the gods, Drewcila, you have gone too far this time." Zarco jumped from his bed, grabbed his robe, and slung it on.
"Yeah, all the way. I figure you owe me . . ."
"Did this mean nothing to you?"
"Now I need a bath," she said with a shrug."Come on baby, there's no sense in getting all tense now, sit down and let mama rub your shoulders." He sat down, obviously against his better judgment, and she started to rub his shoulders."Now listen . . . I have something you want," she licked the side of his neck, "don't I?"
"Yes," he said shuddering.
"And you have the power to give me what I want."
"Drewcila . . . I thought I made myself very clear. I am not going to trade my kingdom for sex with my own wife," Zarco said.
"Come on . . . why the hell not? You're screwing the country now. You could stop screwing them, and start screwing me. Seems like more than a fair trade."
"Why must you be so crude? Why must everything be attached to some sort of deal? Is it impossible for you to even try to embrace the idea that I love you? That you once loved me? Must everything with you be made into a commodity?"
"In order: because no one respects a polite salvager; all of life is a deal; you simply aren't my type; I tend to go for exotics; and yes."
He moved out of her grasp, stood up, and turned to look at her."I thought the worst day of my life was when the Lockhedes stole you away from me, but now I realize that the worst day of my life was when I brought you back. You have destroyed me and brought the kingdom into an age of shame and degradation."
"Yay, me!" Drewcila got out of bed then, and started putting on her clothes.
"Where do you think you're going?" Zarco demanded.
"To the kitchen to get something to eat. I could stroll down the hall buck-naked if you like . . ."
"You aren't going anywhere. Nowhere, until I have undone what those Lockhede bastards did to you . . ."
"See . . . that ordering me around like I'm one of the servants thing that you're doing? That's not a big turn on for me." She finished pulling her coveralls on, but didn't Velcro them shut."Now . . . I'm going to go to the kitchen to get something to eat, and when I get back, if you've been a good boy, we can do it again." Drewcila turned on her heel and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Drew quickly went to the kitchen and made herself a sandwich. Then, carefully checking to make sure she wasn't being followed, she made her way to Zarco's office and entered easily. She munched on the sandwich as she started to hack into his computer.
"Drewcila!"
Startled, she turned to see Zarco standing in the doorway.
"Where is the trust?" she asked in mock despair.
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
"What the hell do you think I think I'm doing? I'm trying to find out how I can undermine all your plans and take over the country again." She stood up and slunk across the room towards him."But, as long as you're here foiling my plans . . ." Before she could reach him, two guards entered the room.
"Grab her," Zarco ordered.
"Kinky," Drewcila cooed. The guards rushed her. She dodged them half a dozen times before they finally grabbed her. Her evasion had been mostly for her own amusement. There was no sense in putting up a fight. She couldn't beat every guard in the palace."I overplayed my hand, didn't I? You know what the problem is? I'm fairly good with bullshit, but when it comes to being as disgustingly nice as I need to be to have you eating out of my hand . . . Well, I just flat can't stomach it."
"Search her. Unless I'm mistaken, she's armed."
"Well of course I am! I'd look silly with four legs."
They found the small laser she had hidden in the cuff of her pants. Then they pulled her hat from her pocket and held it up.
"Keep it. God only knows what it is," Zarco ordered.
"For shit's sake, it's a stupid hat, and I need it," she cried in mock anguish."Take my weapon if you must, but please, please don't take my stupid hat!"
"Take her to the dungeon and throw her into a cell . . . alone."
They started dragging her away, and she made them drag her, too. She turned to glare at Zarco as they hauled her away."You know, Zarco, honey, flowers would have been more appropriate."
They pulled her down to the dungeon, threw her into a cell, and locked the door."How quaint," she said looking at the metal bars in front of her. The guards started walking away, seeming to pay little if any attention to her remark."Yeah, well! Expect to hear from my lawyer, Jacko!" She yelled at their backs."Stupid bastards have no respect for my royal ass. Well, they'll be sorry."
"Drewcila?" a familiar voice called out from the shadows.
"Is that you, God?" Drew answered back, looking up and around.
"It's Drew, all right," Stasha's voice said.
Drew's eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she could make out her sister, Facto, and Margot in the cell across from her.
"Are we ever glad to see you," Facto said.
"Because you think I deserve to be behind bars?" Drew asked sarcastically.
"We were afraid . . . Well, that they might kill you outright," Facto said."Zarco has gone quite mad."
"Yeah, and he's pissed off, too."
"Are you all right?" Facto asked.
"Let's see . . . I'm locked in an antiquated dungeon, and across from me are the only people on this planet who might have actually helped me. Wait, and let me think . . . Do you know what 'well duh' means?"
"I meant are you physically injured?" Facto asked with concern.
"No. Apart from the effects of the aftermath of really horrible sex, I'm physically fine."
Stasha heard what she said, knew what Drew had proposed, and jumped to all the right conclusions. She ran to the bars and glared at her sister.
"Did you sleep with Zarco?"
"Gee, and all I had to say was lousy sex . . ."
"You had sex with Zarco!" Stasha hissed.
"I consider sex to be more enjoyable than that. In fact, I consider a root canal to be less tedious."
"Did you have sex with Zarco?" Stasha asked accusingly.
"If that's what you want to call it . . ."
"Yes or no!"
"Hey! Don't think I enjoyed it. I did it to try and save the kingdom . . ."
"You did it to try and save your money," Stasha snapped.
"That, too."
"You know how I feel about him, and you slept with him anyway."
"All right, Stasha. I'm not even going to tell you how insane it is that you're pissed off because I fucked my husband. Who, by the way, apparently had your happy ass thrown into jail!" She screamed the last part.
"He . . . he's distraught. He needs help," Stasha defended.
"He's an inbred mother fucking nut job, who needs serious sexual counseling," Drew said. Then she walked over and flopped on the wooden bed. It had been a long damn day. As if to snuff out yet one more reasonable plan, Jurak was brought into the dungeon and slung into the cell with the others.
"Hey! Hold up there, butt boys," she yelled to the guards, who turned to face her."How come they all get to be together, but I have to be alone in a separate cell?"
"Whore that you are, I imagine the king feels safer if there is no one for you to have sex with."
"My point exactly. How do you expect me to pass the time of day?"
"Shut up, Queen of Whores! The king may still find some worth in you, but the rest of us certainly do not. Your life hangs in the balance."
Drewcila took a good long look at the man's face, but said nothing.
"What?" he demanded.
"Oh, excuse me. Was I staring? I never actually saw a being talk with his sphincter before."
"Why, you!" he rushed forward, but the other guard grabbed his arm.
"Come on, she's purposely trying to make you mad. It's some trick."
The other guard grumbled, but they both left.
"I shall never forgive you for this, Drewcila," Stasha screamed at her."Never!"
"For what? Trying to piss the guards off?"
"You know for what! I swear you are the biggest harlot in the universe." Stasha turned on her heel and walked away, moving to stand in the corner so that she wouldn't have to see her sister.
"It's nice to see you again, too, sis," Drew spat back. She looked at Jurak and shrugged."A clear cut case of sibling rivalry. You have to forgive her. It couldn't be easy to be the younger sister of an overachiever."
They all went about the day's work, seeming to hardly notice the landing of the craft or the arrival of new brothers and sisters as they toiled in the fields moving their loads of rocks. The ship would stay for only a few short hours, then after it had cooled down and re-powered to optimum, it would launch. Except this time it wouldn't be carrying a load of worthless rocks, and it would have a different Captain and crew.
After much thought, they had decided against rushing the ship shortly after landfall, which had been their initial plan. Van Gar had instead decided on a more subtle approach. One with the element of surprise and a lot less risk. They would wait until they were supposed to load the ship. At this point the pilot and crew usually left the ship to stretch their legs and go to the pilots' lounge which was stocked with actual real food and drinks. They knew this because about two days ago they had broken in there and eaten and drunk it all.
Twenty Chitzskies followed the ten man flight crew to the lounge as Van Gar and those who would be going with him made their way to the ship. The twenty Chitzskies descended on the flight crew just as they learned the place had been cleaned out, and before the fighting had stopped Van Gar and the others had boarded the ship.
Van Gar quickly closed the hatches. They all got as secure as the ship would allow them to get, and then without so much as a glance out the port at the planet they were leaving, they lifted off.
As always, reaching escape velocity was less than pleasant, but not any more so than the thought of having to swill down even one more bowl of glop.
As they broke from the planet's gravitational pull, Van Gar felt reborn. He was in space again, piloting a ship. This was where he belonged. Step one of his plan was complete, and they were well on their way to implementing step two. Or would be as soon as he knew what that was.