Chapter 27
Sugar
By nature, Humerians worshiped conformity. Their dimension ran like clockwork, each citizen following a strict daily routine. When adults turned twenty, they picked a partner, married, and produced no more than two offspring.
Being queer was tolerated but misunderstood by the straight population. Sugar didn’t realize the depth of that misunderstanding until the eve of his eighteenth birthday when he informed his parents he was gay.
“But you’ll still marry a woman, correct?” His mother’s teacup rattled on its saucer.
“No, Mother. I prefer the company of men.”
“What about Silvie from next door?” His father waved his teaspoon toward the neighbor’s house. “She has lovely breasts.”
“Silvie doesn’t have a dick, Dad.”
“I suppose you’re right, son.” His father blinked three times. “Silvie doesn’t have a dick.”
His mother blinked three times. “No. She doesn’t.”
Sugar left home one year later, determined to live as unconventionally as possible—only to learn you could take the man out of Humeria, but not Humeria out of the man.
Fastidiousness and organization were part of his DNA.
Even as a pirate, he craved order. He demanded things to make sense.
Right now, the image on the cockpit’s computer screen made little sense, and it pissed him the fuck off.
“Him?” Sugar stood behind Snake, leaning over his shoulder for a better look. “How did he hack into our video chat? That troglodyte still makes fire with a rock and a stick.”
Snake waved his hand over the webcam lens. “Piss-poor job, this. We can see him, but he can’t see us.” He twisted the volume knob. “Audio’s dead, too.”
“We’ve been back online for a few hours, and we’ve already been hacked?” Horatio sat next to Snake. “Yikes. What the fuck is that?”
“That’s King Buta of Yasmin.”
Horatio made a face. “Looks like a cannibal would, I guess.”
King Buta and his citizens were pencil-eraser pink, from their bald heads to their three-toed feet. Wrinkled necks, bulbous bodies, with eyes, noses, and limbs in triplicate. Worst were their gaping mouths, each with triple rows of teeth, perfect for tearing meat from bones.
The king shouted at someone offscreen while waving his three hands, one of which bumped the webcam, giving them an eyeful of his body. Sugar joined in the collective “Ew!” that echoed through the cockpit.
“That dude needs to do the universe a favor and put some fucking clothes on,” Horatio said. “Do they all walk around naked?”
“Yes, but the rear view is worse. From behind, their heads resemble limp dicks, complete with rolled-back foreskin.”
“Thanks for the visual, Sugar.” Gunner’s eyes were glued to Seven’s laptop, fingers a blur. “You’re right. Our hacker is working remotely.”
Seven nodded. “After we bounce them out, you can help me beef up the firewall. Again.”
Sugar pointed to a clothed figure behind King Buta. “Someone’s helping him.” The mysterious assistant adjusted the camera with a gloved hand.
“Ah, is working now,” the king said.
“Yes,” the assistant said. “It’s remarkable what happens when you plug things in.” The voice was familiar, but Sugar couldn’t place it.
King Buta grinned. “I see you, Snake Vinter. Can you see me?”
“Unfortunately, yes. What the fuck are you doing in my system?”
“Correct question is, ‘What is Snake doing in Yasmin?’ Noise wakes me up. When I see out window, there is silver ship. Buta say, ‘Aha! That is Snake Vinter’s ship.’ Send royal guard to spy. She comes back with news that makes Buta laugh. Ship is broken.”
King Buta paused to drink from a clay bowl. “I see out window again, and right before my eyes,” he spread open the fingers on all three hands, “ship goes poof!”
“We couldn’t get out of your stinking dimension fast enough,” Snake said.
King Buta shook a finger. “Liar, liar, pants are burning. You use magic to hide ship from my eyes, but the scent of your delicious flesh is still wafting through the air, right to my noses.” He licked his lips.
“I smell eight Humerian boys, two humans.” The king’s three eyes turned to slits.
“And one vampire.” He spat out the last word like a brittle bone.
“Big deal. You know we’re still here, but what the fuck do you want?” Snake snarled.
King Buta pointed to his naked scalp. “I want my crown back!”
“You’re still holding a grudge about that naff crown? The thing is made from bones, not gold,” Snake said.
“Those are the bones of my ancestors!” The saliva flinging from King Buta’s lips made Sugar nauseous. “You stole precious family heirloom from me!”
“I didn’t steal your crown,” Snake said. “I took it as collateral because I risked my neck acquiring that antique meat grinder, and you stiffed me. That’s not how things are done, Buta. You owe me ten grand, plus interest.”
The king’s jowls wagged as he shook his head. “It is privilege to work for King Buta. Honor is payment enough.”
While Snake and Buta argued, Sugar pondered. Yasmin’s citizens lived in mud houses and hunted prey with spears. The computer was already out of place, but if Sugar’s hypothesis was correct, so was a cell phone.
“You heard about the bounty and called the cops,” Sugar said.
“Yes! I used new toy the children give me.” He waved an antique flip phone. “Yasmin is now in the modern age.”
The same gloved hand shoved Buta out of the way.
Sugar’s heart pounded when he saw the yellow-eyed Reptilian staring back at him.
Bigger than life and twice as horrifying, this was Master Sargeant Komodo Varanus: second in command of the matrix police force, warden of Clairidia Prison, and Meridian’s scaly right hand.
“I’m here to collect the fugitive named Horatio Slice. Surrender him at once.” Komodo flashed his ever-present hooked dagger. “Or I will cut open your bellies and feast on your innards. Slowly. While forcing you to watch.”
“But you save fleshy parts for me,” Buta said, wiping drool from his chin with the back of his third hand. “Intestines too chewy. Blech.”
Horatio moved in front of the camera. “I’m not turning myself in until I know why Meridian yanked me off stage in the middle of a fucking gig!”
“I follow my leader’s orders without question. You’d be wise to do the same, Mr. Slice.” Komodo tapped his watch. “You have ten minutes to surrender.” He turned his back to the camera and snorted. “I’ll be outside. The stench rolling off your blubber is making me gag.”
King Buta’s lopsided mug filled the screen.
“You listen to orders, yes? Send out meaty one to Komodo, and we will let the rest of you go free.” Buta chuckled.
“Oh wait. Your ship is broken.” He tied a large napkin around his neck.
“I will save the eight delectable Humerian boys for dessert. They are as sweet as,” the king licked his fingers, “Sugar.”
“You motherfucker!” Snake shouted. Sugar grabbed his arm before he punched through the monitor. “Listen, Buta, there’s no way you sick freaks are eating us. We’ll escape. We always escape.” The screen went black. “What happened?”
“I shut down the system so that they can’t overhear us. It’ll take ten minutes to reboot. We’d better think of a plan—and fast,” Seven said.
“What if we go on deck and take them out with our guitars? We can pick them off as they arrive,” Horatio said.
“That might work,” Sugar said. “We can also use the machine guns stored in the armory.”
“We have an armory?” Gunner asked.
“Before becoming a pirate, I was an arms dealer. Hence my vast collection of weapons,” Sugar said.
“You’re always one step ahead of us, my darling.”
Sugar squeezed Snake’s shoulders and felt what he thought was Snake’s body vibrating with rage until he noticed the same sensation under him. “Anyone else feel that tremor?”
“If it’s another earthquake, we’re screwed.” Horatio opened the windshields. The scene beyond the glass was horrific. Thousands of natives moved in an enormous pink wave, their plodding gait the source of the quaking. “That blows my plan. Any other ideas?”
Snake peered through his spyglass. “Even the young ones are carrying wooden clubs or nasty-looking spears. This is dire, lads.”
“We don’t have enough ammo for this mob!” Sugar tried to stay cool on the outside, but on the inside, he was screaming.
Suki darted into the cockpit, binoculars hanging around his neck. “Komodo and six other Reptilians are heading our way with two natives carrying bazookas. Looks like they plan to blast their way inside.”
“And then those guys can drag us off for dinner,” Horatio said.
Sugar’s mind went into hyperdrive. “Running seems to be our only choice. How serious is the ship’s damage?” he asked Seven. “The truth this time.”
“Scary serious.”
“Besides being eaten by King Buta, what’s the worst-case scenario?” Sugar asked.
“The engine might give out while we’re driving through the gateway, and we’d be stuck floating between dimensions for eternity,” Seven said.
“I’d rather float in limbo than get eaten by these fuckers,” Horatio said. “We’ll get spit-roasted, but not the way we like.”
Snake rubbed both hands along the dashboard. “Frances, baby, we need you to get us out of here.” He started the engine. “Listen to her purr. She can do this. Seven, how long until the computer is back up?”
“Ninety seconds. To where should I set the coordinates?” Seven asked.
“Graphica,” Sugar said. “Suki, tell the guys to get in their jump seats. This might be a rough ride.”
The horde advanced. Their three legs forced them to hop instead of run, which thankfully slowed their progress.
“We’re up!” Seven said. “I’ll set the coordinates to... hey! Frances is overriding the system. She locked in random coordinates. I can’t change them.”
The ship lurched forward, straight at the band of lumbering natives. “Blimey. We’ll be picking dead cannibals out of the wheels for weeks,” Snake wailed.
“I’m going to puke,” Sugar said, relieved when Snake pulled him onto his lap and snugged the seat belt around them.
The ship was poised to mow down thousands of bodies, but he couldn’t look away.
Right before impact, Frances made a sharp right and thrust ahead with enough force to pin Sugar against Snake and squeeze the air from his lungs.
“What’s going on, Seven?” Snake shouted.
“I think she went into Operation Zig Zag.”
“We didn’t perfect that yet!” Snake said. “Who knows where we’ll end up?”
“Not Turquin, Frances,” Horatio said.
“Or Vixen,” Seven said. “Please not Vixen.”
“Vixen was kind of fun.”
“Shut up, Horatio,” Seven and Snake chorused.
Sugar checked on Gunner. Ramrod straight in his chair, eyes fixated ahead, ready to faint. “Are you okay?”
“I’m. Just. Fucking. Peachy.” Gunner pushed out words between ragged breaths. “What’s. Operation. Zig Zag?”
“Evasive maneuvers,” Seven said. “We’ll travel through five random portals at warp speed, if the engine holds out that long. Here comes the first one—hang on!”
Sugar’s teeth rattled in his skull as they roared through the first gateway into what looked like Environ. The scenery whizzed by as the ship approached the next, but before she could make it through, the engine screeched.
“Oh motherfucking hell, we lost a rotor!” Seven screamed.
“But we’re still moving,” Snake said. “Don’t you dare lose faith in her.”
Next, Frances burst through Merona, followed by Turk. “That’s three,” Seven said. “Two more, and we’ll stop.”
A heart-clenching noise rattled through the cockpit, followed by quiet blackness.
“This ain’t good,” Horatio mumbled.
“Fuck. The engine is stone-cold dead. We’ll be floating in limbo for the rest of time. What if we run out of food?” Seven gasped. “Or lube?”
“It feels like we’re still moving,” Gunner said.
Sugar watched the scenery creep by. “At a snail’s pace, but I’ll take it.”
“The gateway is close.” Horatio pointed out the windshield.
“Come on, Frances,” Snake said. “Do this for Daddy.”
Sugar swore a female voice hummed as they inched toward the portal. Through the shimmering circle, he saw blue and green. After ten more excruciating minutes, the bow punched through the veil.
“Holy fuck, we’re gonna make it!” Seven raised his hands.
“Have any of you ever seen a sky so vivid? It matches Horatio’s spooky eyeballs,” Snake said. The Frances coasted in, convulsing when the last of her passed through. “Welcome to wherever we are, boys. Let’s hope it’s somewhere friendly.”
Seven undid his safety harness. “I thought we were doomed, guys.”
“Get the rum, Seven. You know which one,” Sugar said.
Everyone untangled themselves from their seat belts and stretched before taking turns hitting off the bottle. The rum was ancient, a gift from a pirate friend named Scully, and went down smoother than silk. Sugar loved the way it traveled through his bloodstream, leaving tendrils of warmth behind.
Horatio passed it back to Gunner. “Take another drink. You’re still shaking.”
“And yet another victory over death.” Gunner tipped the bottle before taking a long pull. He pressed it into Seven’s waiting hand.
“I need another chug and three good fucks,” Seven said. “We should have an orgy to celebrate not dying.”
The rest of the crew piled into the cockpit. While passing the bottle, everyone stared slack-jawed at the unfamiliar, but breathtaking exterior view. Horatio claimed it looked like a place called Scotland and had everyone convinced they were on Earth until a winged beast flew across the sky.
“Do you have dragons back home?” Sugar asked.
“Dragons?” Horatio and Gunner shouted in unison.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Sugar said.
Six pressed his face to the window. “Dragons? I love dragons! Let’s try to catch one. They’re so pretty.”
Stiles squealed. “We should! They’re attracted to honey, right? Luckily, I picked up a case while we were in Petulia.”
“Dragons breathe fire and eat people, right?” Horatio said.
“Not the ones I’ve seen. Back in Vinterbourne, some vamps kept them as pets. Docile creatures, but kind of shy.” Snake took a pointed look at Six. “Don’t even ask. A dragon does not belong on a ship.”
Sugar chuckled. “First, we have to figure out where we are, estimate the amount of damage, and get the power restored.” He sighed. “Again.”
“I need to get bloody drunk before I go back out there,” Snake wailed. “My baby is surely the worse for wear after all this!”
Sugar noticed Snake’s black pupils. The stress over the ship’s damage had depleted him, but he knew exactly what his lover needed.
And what he needed in return.