HAIR: PART THREE
by Womby
Sharon was not happy. “How are we going to find
Mongrel? And assuming that’s even possible, how are
we going to get close to him?”
“Good questions,” replied Rock. “Here’s my plan. First
we’ll head to Spider. Once there, I’ll find out the location
of Mongrel’s church. Best that you stay on the ship
-- he knows you’ve been spying for the Advocacy and
may have told others. Once we know where it is, I’ll
join the Church of the Holy Viscera. There’s one slight
complication, though. It requires offering the church an
escape pod containing a live occupant.”
“Are you serious?” Sharon’s unhappiness was turning
into hostility.
“Hear me out. I happen to know someone who fully
deserves to be offered to Viscera. His name is Womby,
and he used to be an insurance adjuster. Back when
my father was a struggling cargo hauler, he borrowed
heavily to buy a Banu Merchantman. One day he was
attacked by pirates, and his ship was destroyed. When
he lodged his insurance claim, Womby fabricated
evidence to indicate collusion between my father and
the pirates, and rejected the claim. The debt was too
much for my father, who committed suicide shortly
thereafter. So yes, to answer your question, I am
serious.”
Sharon thought for a moment, then asked “Is he
married?”
“Three times married, three times divorced,” replied
Rock. “He now lives with a small collection of sex bots,
some of which are illegal.”
“OK,” said Sharon, “I’m in. Now, let’s go check out this
ship you scrounged.”
***
The Toxic Slug oozed oil and malevolence in roughly
equal measure. A rough coat of black paint failed to
conceal the deep scorch marks and crudely patched
holes in the battered Cutlass. Rock cast an approving
eye over the Suckerpunch distortion cannons, the Mk VI
laser cannon and the twin Executioners. A Tarsus Leaper
Jump Engine and a full complement of missiles rounded
things out nicely.
To get its owner to lend it, Rock had spun a tale about
a “once in a lifetime” job, and promised a 40% share of
the take. Keeping that promise was something he could
worry about later. Sharon was skeptical. That nasty
looking pirate ship was going to attract attention, and
sooner or later they were going to be scanned.
“So, what’s this ‘little something extra’ you mentioned?”
“I’m glad you asked,” replied Rock, gesturing at a
curiously shaped object attached to one of the hard
points. “What we have here is a quantum modulator,
a device which recently went missing from one of the
research labs on Keene. It will project a procedurally
generated 3D model’s image onto the surface of our
force field. In other words, we can make our ship look
like an asteroid. It will also return modified scan and
radar signatures to match the projection. This will allow
us to capture Womby without acquiring a bounty.”
“Sounds impressive,” said Sharon. “What’s the catch?”
“Nothing too serious,” Rock answered. “It’s a bit
unstable. There’s a 7% chance each time it is switched
on that it will trigger an astable quantum reversal,
irradiating the ship and killing everyone on board.”
***
Womby enjoyed Sundays. He had started the day
checking the illicit porn channels for new algorithms for
his sex bots. Having found nothing new, he decided to
head out in his Aurora MR for a little target practice. He
was currently approaching his private shooting range a small collection of asteroids that he rented, part of a
much larger group that lay within convenient traveling
distance.
Although he had gone to considerable pains to avoid
military service, Womby liked to imagine himself as a
badass fighter ace, picturing his defenceless asteroids
as ferocious Vanduul invaders held back only by his
heroic deeds. Taking up position, Womby noted with
interest the arrival of a new asteroid that had wandered
into his area. Concentric craters formed a natural bull’seye that was impossible to resist. He hastily switched
off his shields to divert maximum power to his two
Behring M3A Lasers. Taking careful aim, he lined up the
central crater and fired off a short burst. To his utter
astonishment the asteroid immediately returned fire
with a barrage of missiles and energy weapons.
***
“Wow, we’re still alive,” remarked Sharon. “And we don’t
have a bounty, because he fired first. You might actually
be smarter than I gave you credit for.”
Rock smiled. There’s plenty you don’t know about me,
he thought.
***
Womby watched the asteroids drift past as he stared
out the small window of his escape pod. “It’s a good
thing I had AutoPod fitted,” he said aloud. Talking to
himself was not unusual for Womby - a habit possibly
brought on by not having any friends.
Suddenly the pod’s heads up display indicated the
presence of a tractor beam.
“That was quick. I must remember to tip my rescuers
generously.” he added.
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