LITMIR.BIZ

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do we do?” wailed Stephanie. Lissa looked around for some means of escape.

      “First, we should free the other guy there,” Ash said, pointing at the Mongol boy with his bird in the next cell. As they approached, Lissa held out a breath-mask. The boy shook his head firmly from within, his almond black eyes grave from behind the glass wall. He pointed at the bird-of-prey on his wrist, clearly asking how they expected it to breathe if they let him out.

      “We’ll have to free him and leave the bird inside,” Shika told Lissa. Stephanie, who had a fondness for birds, made several gestures to the boy, which he seemed to grasp from his quick nod. When the air escaped with a hiss of the door opening, he gave a stern order to his bird, quickly donned the mask Lissa tossed him, slipped out of the door and helped them shove it tightly shut before the bird had begun to register any reaction at all to the loss of air pressure.

      He paused a moment to ensure all was well, before turning to the others to say in English, “My name is Shiro—I am of the Kazakh people. Thank you for my freedom.”

      Before any of them could answer, another jolt shuddered through the ship and Lissa was reminded of why Nask had made for the upper deck.

      “Who are these Space Patrol guys?” she wondered.

      “I do not know,” Shika shrugged, “They never mentioned it while I was listening.”

      “Sounds like we’re about to find out,” That was Ash, his tone ominous. The ship was starting to lean heavily to the right, as though straining against something, and Lissa heard the creak of timbers in the hull. There was a sudden jolt which threw them all to the ground and made the water in the octopus tank slosh violently about, and then a voice came over a loudspeaker.

      “Stand down,” the Translator bot made the voice sound stern as it relayed his order, “If you resist further your ship will be blown from the sky.”

      The five children shared a look of apprehension. Would Captain Nask risk oblivion?

      It seemed not. The slave ship hove to and subsided, and soon there were new sounds and voices coming from the upper deck. Lissa stood, brushing herself off and inspecting a new bruise that was beginning to form on her left elbow. It had connected with the wooden pole of Ash’s spear when she fell. With the four others crowding below her, Lissa cautiously crept back to the ladder, stepped up the first few rungs, and peered out onto the deck.

      Mayhem was the word. Ray blasts of many colors shot back and forth from pistols on both sides of the tussle, making the deck look like a deadly bursting rainbow. Captain Nask had apparently put up a token show of surrender to lure Space Patrol into boarding him. He had taken cover now behind a large crate and was shooting over it at slim furry creatures that had invaded the forecastle and were targeting him and his crew. Lissa thought the creatures resembled oversized meerkats. They wore little over their furs except a few strategic pieces of armor and each had a shiny gold emblem on his or her right shoulder—a star hovering above a black X.

      “Blast em!” Nask screamed at his crew, who were doing their best to comply. Lissa noticed that the translator bot had followed her up the ladder, hovering beside her at ear-level to do its duty. Together, they watched as the furry invaders gained ground step by step. She was forced to duck down occasionally when one or two got the idea she might be a possible target. Nask put up a decent firefight, evidently enraged by the invasion of his ship, but these Space Patrol chaps were a well-drilled corps. The furry aliens overwhelmed the pirates as Lissa looked on, and soon had them lashed to the mast.

      A few of the newcomers showed signs of injury. Smoke wafted off of burnt fur as they gathered around their captives, and Lissa saw one who seemed pretty badly off, but that left them more than a match for the seven pirates. It was an impressive sight.

      The haze cleared as the Forty-Five’s shipboard computer sent a gust of fresh Mars atmosphere through the ventilation system, and Lissa got a clear view of Space Patrol for the first time. They were a much shorter alien race than the space pirates, slim and quick in their movements. Her initial impression of large meerkats was not wrong: up close they resembled even more that particular Earth rodent with two exceptions—they each had four eyes instead of two, and they walked on their hind feet, paws outstretched with ray guns at their captives. They had won by superior numbers and were clearly well-drilled, whereas each of the pirates, being out for number one first, had refused to stand their ground when it looked like they would eventually succumb, in spite of Captain Nask’s threats to flay them alive for deserting him.

      The leader of the Patrolship stepped forward. His fur was creamy caramel. He had a white underbelly and stood proudly up every inch of his four feet in height. His double pair of eyes glared at the pirates, accusing and hot with ill-temper.

      “This is highly irregular,” he scolded. The bot translating in Lissa’s ear managed to make his words seem hostile despite his squeaky tone of voice, “Firing on a Space Patrol squad; injuring enforcement personnel!”

      A clerical-looking officer stood beside him, scribbling furiously as he listed off citations, “You had better have a receipt for whatever cargo you’re carrying,” He added ominously, waving a stubby finger at the larger alien Captain.

      “Err…” Captain Nask ducked evasively, not looking the Patrol Captain in the eyes.

      “I thought so,” Came the disgusted reply, “And this is a Protected Planet! You have no right to be anywhere near this sector of space. What if the local inhabitants had seen you?”

      The Patrol Captain whirled on a heel, quite military and proper, to give orders behind him, “Investigate below, Mr. Piff!” he commanded an officer nearby, “Let us see what loot these space pirates made off with.”

      Mr. Piff approached the hatchway where Lissa still peeked up from the ladder. She ducked her head and scrambled toward the hold below before he spotted her. Reaching the bottom, she gestured frantically for the others to hide.

      The space officer was lithe as he made his way quickly down, his ray pistol drawn and held to the ready. Lissa and the others peered out at him from a cracked inner door, and the bot translated as the alien reported back up in squeaky tones, “Naught but empty cells here, Captain! She’s a slaver ship, no doubt of it.”

      He went on a little further to where the octopus tank still stood full of Earth saltwater, “We’ve got a live one here, Captain. Looks like an Europan. Little guy—blue-ring by the look of him.”

      “See if you can establish communication,” came the order from above, “Do they have a Translator?”

      “Negative, Captain,” Piff said after a moment of searching about.

      “Very well,” the Patrol Captain sounded resigned, “We’ll haul them into port and let HQ sort it out. Blasted space pirates,” he grumbled.

      Piff began to turn away from the octopus tank and Lissa ducked back.

      “Hold it,” Piff said. Lissa winced. Had he seen her?

      “What is it?”

      “I have motion in the crew quarters off the main cargo bay.” Lissa felt tight and smothered. Glancing behind her, she saw there was no other exit to the room they were in. What would he do when he caught them?

      “Investigate,” came the order, “Be careful, Mr. Piff.”

      Lissa retreated from the doorway, gesturing frantically for the others to scoot back. Eyes wide in the darkness, Shika obeyed, hauling Ash by one arm and Shiro by the other. Stephanie tried to disappear into a corner behind them. Lissa held her breath.

      Through the sliver in the door Lissa watched as Mr. Piff crept nearer, his ray pistol out in front of him. She closed her eyes, wondering again what he would do when he caught them, and then something made her open them again. These creatures obviously did not approve of slavery and piracy, and she was the victim here. Why was she hiding? Standing erect, she pushed the door open, slowly so as not to startle the officer into firing preemptively, and said, “Don’t shoot, we’re unarmed.”

      Mr.

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