Exile by Al Sarrantonio Read Free Book Online Page A

That's when they named me Popeye—"
    "Captain, if you don't mind, I'd rather be alone."
    "Oh. Well, then, I guess I'll be delivering my message and returning up front. Wouldn't happen to have a crowbar, would ye? There's a little score I'd like to settle with that heap o' junk metal pilot."
    Smiling indulgently, Tabrel shook her head.'
    If he would just stop staring at her chest....
    Weens rubbed his chin and said, "Well, then, I'm to tell you that we'll be on Titan within the day, and that Jamal Clan will be waiting for ye. Sounded mighty eager, he did, too. Would've been there sooner, but we've had to do a little dancing to avoid them Martian patrols. Their cruisers out this way are few and far between, but they've gotten mean as hornets the last week or so. You'll be safe once we gets down to Titan, though. Tough bunch, them Titanians."
    He rose, but his eye lingered on Tabrel's breasts. He rubbed at his chin again. "Say, you wouldn't by any chance be interested in an old farter like me, would ye?"
    Before Tabrel could answer forcefully in the negative, one of the ship's robots had appeared at the cargo bay doorway and announced in a flat tone, "We are being boarded, Captain Weens."
    "Boarded! What in hellation—"
    There came a loud clang to the fore section, and the entire ship shuddered. Weens fairly ran from the cargo hold, pushing the retreating robot out of his way.
    "Let me up front, y' waste receptacle!"
    The navigator righted itself and followed after the captain.
    From her porthole Tabrel could see nothing. Again the ship shuddered, and Tabrel followed the other two up front, where a loud commotion had commenced. Yet again the ship shook violently, and Tabrel noticed that the airlock light on the fore entryway was green, indicating that the outside door had been breached.
    "Pirates!" Weens shouted, wrestling the controls from the pilot robot, who sat placidly in the captain's chair. "What in Mormon's hell is wrong with you bolt-holders! Can't ye see we're being attacked by pirates?"
    "It is not in our nature to resist," the navigator, back at his post but doing nothing, answered. "Resist this, y' sheet-metal moron!" Weens said, picking up the nearest loose object, which proved to be a data card, and flinging it at the robot. It bounced harmlessly off the navigator's gleaming shell.
    "Away we go!" Captain Weens shouted, punching the ship's accelerator and pulling at the stick.
    The cargo ship veered sharply. Instantly the sounds at the airlock ceased. Tabrel went to the copilot's window and now saw their adversaries: a makeshift ship, a hundred yards long, seemingly made up of parts of various other vessels. Standing in free space with nothing to hold on to were two space-suited creatures bearing tools, their faceplates turned blankly in the direction of Tabrel's ship.
    "Hoo! Ditched 'em, we did!" Weens shouted.
    But as Tabrel watched, the two space-suited figures returned to their ship, disappeared into its airlock, and the lumbering jerry-built craft turned its nose in their direction.
    "They are following, sir," the navigator said from his position.
    "So you're good for somethin' after all?" Weens spat. "Well, keep your instruments on 'em, ye talking toolbox!"
    "Yes, sir," the navigator said.
    "And you, pilot!" Weens shouted. "Fly this box crate while I empty the crapper in our wake and give these fellers somethin' t' contemplate!"
    On passing Tabrel, Weens put a hand lightly on her arm and managed to look kindly into her face while ogling her breasts at the same time.
    "Not t' worry, darlin'," he said. "I've been this route before. We'll ditch 'em for sure, we will."
    Hooting, Weens ambled off in the direction of the cargo hold.
    Tabrel returned her gaze to the window and saw the pirate vessel falling behind.
    But now there came a massive bang that seemed to emanate from everywhere throughout the ship at once.
    Instantly Weens was back, his face drained of color.
    He said, "What in blazes was that?"
    The