Recycled Read online

  "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 j
ust 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 o
ut 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."