-SALOON AT THE EDGE OF EVERYWHERE-

Chapter Seventeen

Candybar could see her reflection in the large, green-tinted, oval eye of the Warlord. The Warlord gazed back into her eyes and said, “I am glad you are safe, Candybar Venezuela.”

“Thank you,” Candybar replied almost shyly, and hiding her smile behind her hand as was her habit. Then she stepped around him and in front of the brand new Xxo. “Hello, my name is Candybar,” she said cheerfully.

“Mmmmuuu mmmaaammm mmmmmmooo mmm.” said the brand new Xxo.

The Warlord explained, “It might take a few minutes for its mouth-parts to figure out how to work.”

“So he can talk?” she asked, “I mean he’s not like a baby who has to learn to speak, right?”

“No,” the Warlord replied, “He should have most of my memories intact. Or at least some. I don’t know, this is the first time this has ever happened to me.” Once again the Warlord sounded just a little embarrassed.

“What’s his name? I mean, you have to give him a name, right?” Candybar wondered out loud.

The Warlord responded seriously, “He has not yet earned a name. And as I have explained,” the Warlord went on, “he is not actually a he. At least not as you humans think of them. Neither, for that matter, am I.”

“Well,” Candybar replied lightly, “I have to refer to you guys as something. I’m not going to call him an it, and I’m not going to call you an it either. So if you don’t mind?”

“No, I guess it’s fine,” said the Warlord. The Warlord, being a wise being, had already figured out that there was absolutely no point in arguing with human females at all.

“Ca ca ca candaba, candaba,” said the Warlord’s offspring in a halting voice.

“Awwww, he’s trying to say my name,” she said in a strange, high-pitched tone that the

Warlord found rather annoying. “Isn’t he just the cutest thing?”

“If you say so,” said the Warlord resignedly. He liked that human expression. It frequently let you end conversations with them, leaving them feeling that they had somehow scored a point without you actually admitting that they were right.

The Captain, as Beeltee surely thought of himself, was angry at being cut off when addressing Winsse. He was also very annoyed that his childhood friend had allowed himself to be captured by this motley band of mixed aliens. And now he was being spoken to like this?

Before he could even formulate a reply, Rufus went on.

“So, Beeltee,” Rufus said, speaking to the Captain but refusing to grant him a rank or title, “do you know why the pirates of Earth are not around any longer?”

“No, why?” the Captain asked, more confused by the minute. Was this a trick question or the beginnings of a threat of some sort?

In fact it was neither. It was a joke, and not even a very good one.

Rufus continued. “They all died of gastric upset. A bad tummy. You see, all they ever said was ‘Rrrrrrrrrrrr’. They never moved their vowels so they became severely consonated.” Rufus smiled. He had come to realize that this situation called for his biggest poker night bluff yet. He had a vague notion that the best way to keep these punks off balance was to just keep changing the subject. This had worked well for him in the past, defusing bar fights before they could begin by talking rings around his would-be opponent. But he had to be careful not to push too far, or he ran the risk of a punch in the mouth when the other fellow got flustered. Not that Rufus couldn’t hold his own in a fair fight, but his mouth had gotten him into way more trouble than it ever got him out of.

Beeltee was completely lost. He was not a particularly good conversationalist even in his own language, which is why he was held back in school for two complete sessions. Besides, English was an expressive but incomprehensible mess of a language that seemed to have no firm rules when it came to spelling and had words that sounded the same but had more than one meaning. But Beeltee was a schoolyard bully, and he knew when he was being made fun of.

“Human,” he said frostily, “you will pay for…”

Rufus cut him off. “Hey, don’t get your panties in a pucker, big guy. It’s just a joke.” Rufus began to chuckle. “I finally figured out what you Wasp Whips remind me of. Have you ever seen those tall, thin tubes they use to attract people to gas stations and mini-malls? You know, they use a fan to blow air up the tube so it stands up and wiggles all around? They stick some tubes on the sides for arms and paint a silly face on it. You know those things?”

The Captain was indeed aware of the things of which Rufus spoke, but instead he chose to pounce on one other part of Rufus’s monologue. “What was that you called us? Wasp Whips?” he asked. “Oh yes, the stinging insects. And a whip, eh?” He drew his unencumbered arm back and sent it slashing forward to produce the sharp snap of a bullwhip. “I do like that name. Maybe that’s what I’ll call my new ship, the Wasp Whip.” Here he indicated in the direction of the cruise liner docked nearby.

“Fine,” Rufus conceded. “Feel free to use it, no charge. Just don’t forget to tell people who thought that up.”

The Captain growled to himself. This human was no fun to talk to at all, and time was running out. They should have left by now, and were only waiting for Winsse’s return. “What is your name, human?” he asked impatiently.

“Rufus,” replied Rufus.

“Ah, like the English king. Was he even a real person?” The Captain really wanted to know the answer. He knew that the humans wrote stories and movies about this king, but that there was no real record of his existence.

“Oh, you bet he was real,” said Rufus serenely. “He was my great great great great grandfather. My family has been dealing with scallywags like you for centuries, and we haven’t lost yet. Not even once.”

“So,” the Captain said with no little exasperation, “I suppose you have a plan to try to stop us?”

“I’m working on it,” said Rufus truthfully.

“Tell me what you want, human?” bellowed the pirate leader. “I do have things to do.”

Rufus smiled once more. His plan to keep the Wasp Whip chief off balance seemed to be going smoothly. “Well,” he said reasonably, “I thought you might like to have your friend back. I’m going to keep the gun. Sort of a souvenir of our time together. I’m going to hang it on my wall with all the other weapons my illustrious family have removed from the hands of all those villains over the centuries. I may have to move some stuff around because I am running out of space, but I figured you might trade your hostages for this guy.”

Beeltee rudely said, “Sorry to disappoint you, but since Winnse allowed himself to be captured, maybe he isn’t cut out for the pirate life.”

“Hey, wait a minute, Captain,” Winnse began, but the Captain interrupted him. “Shut up, Winnse. Nobody told you to run off after that kid. You were supposed to be guarding our ship. You can’t even follow simple orders.”

Winnse looked both hurt and angry, but Rufus didn’t have time to worry about his prisoner’s feelings. It looked like his plan to do a hostage swap was going nowhere fast. Well, what the hell, one more bluff, double or nothing.

“Okay then,” said Rufus in a conversational tone, “we won’t trouble you any longer. We will be on our way, and you can get back to plundering doubloons. Don’t forget to mark your map with an X so you can find your buried treasure again later. You’d be surprised how many pirates ended up with no retirement plan just because they forgot…”

“You are not going anywhere,” shouted the Captain. He seemed to enjoy interrupting people. He is starting to think he is in charge again, thought Rufus, even as he whispered to his little army to start backing up towards the door.

“Do you know what these guns will do to you and your friends?” sneered the head pirate.

“I know what this gun will do to you and your friends if you try,” said Rufus pleasantly, hefting the gun in their direction. “Besides, even if you don’t mind shooting Winnse, by the time your gun chews through Ox here, I figure I will have time to turn you three into shreds of meat.”

This coldblooded remark caused the captain to pause. Meanwhile, the small, gallant band of failed rescuers continued to back towards the door leading to Mainstreet.