Hard Luck Hank Screw the Galaxy(73)

“So you see,” Rendrae continued, “we’re going to be in a fight really soon whether you like it or not.”

“Rendrae, even if this is true, how can we fight battlecruisers? Aim our pistols in the air? The Navy can do whatever they want.”

“No,” he replied. “They’re going to drop off troops and equipment. When they come, we’ll attack.”

“You’re crazy. You think just because some guys know how to gamble and…and counterfeit luxury goods they know how to beat the Navy in protracted firefights? We’ll get slaughtered.”

“We don’t have to win. We just have to make it not worth their while.”

“This isn’t a business venture for them. They’re the Navy.” I said, exasperated. I liked Rendrae more when he was a pudgy, sycophant journalist instead of a counter-revolutionary.

“They want this station. We just have to convince them to let our side exist as normal.”

“I don’t even know what that means, Rendrae.”

“You’re right, we can’t win a protracted war with the Navy. But this is a big station. As it is, we take up way less than half of it. We can share so long as they leave us alone. It’s mutually beneficial for both sides. And we’d have a full-population Belvaille.”

“You think we’re just going to kill a bunch of them and they’re going to want to live with us peacefully? Not only that, but you expect the Navy to work next door with organized crime?”

“They’ve already been side-by-side with us since Belvaille opened. They’ll just be here in greater numbers now. It’s not that unreasonable. Colmarians have a long history of resisting occupation.”

“Alien occupation. How can our own race conquer us?”

I was shaking my head at Rendrae. But if the Navy was here, and it sadly seemed a very real possibility, things looked grim indeed.

“I need to know what side you’re on, Hank.”

“There are no sides yet. But you know me, I’m always neutral.”

“That’s not going to work anymore,” he said almost threateningly.

“Hey,” I interrupted, suddenly looking at his gun on the table. “Where did you get that pistol?”

“What?”

“Did you get that from Been-e?” I continued.

“Yeah. I think so. Why?”

“That gun shot me. Twice,” I said, annoyed.

“Oh.” Rendrae seemed thrown on how to continue. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say. Enjoy your lunch.”

I kept glowering at the pistol, as if it were a personal enemy, as Rendrae quickly put it back in his pants and left the restaurant.





CHAPTER 30


I couldn’t contact Garm. She was so busy lately it was almost impossible. Also, her staff was keeping her whereabouts strictly secret, even from me. I just hoped she knew about the stuff Rendrae had mentioned.

First thing I could think of was Delovoa. We had to move that stupid robot somewhere.

Chances were the Navy would want to see what was left from the wrecked Dredel Led. And that was in Delovoa’s basement. And standing next to it was a fully functional Dredel Led. People tend to notice things like that.

Delovoa might be the dumbest person in the galaxy for buying that heap and bringing it to the station, but he’d be in for a world of hurt once the Navy found out. I doubt they even had a criminal category for what he did. More importantly, it might reflect poorly on the need for the continued existence of Belvaille.

I went over late at night. He was still huddled in the corner. His beard was long, his hair was wild, and he looked thin. ZR3 stood over Delovoa like a bulky jailor or extremely possessive boyfriend.

“Hank!” Delovoa cried out. “Have you figured a way to get rid of it?”

“No,” I replied with difficulty. Delovoa was truly pathetic and it pained me to be the bearer of bad news.

“Can you at least talk to me a bit? What’s going on outside?”

“The Navy is here. Maybe. Not in force yet, but they might have put some advanced scouts on the cargo ships to see what we’re up to.”

“Oh yeah? Would they do that? What do you think? Would they?”

Delovoa was animated at having some actual conversation. When I dropped off food and such, I usually left immediately, as I didn’t like standing this close to a working robot with undeclared intentions.

“We need to move you, Delovoa. We can’t let the Navy see that.”

“So you just want to move me to some other basement?” Delovoa was horrified. “Have this thing standing next to me forever? Why? Let the Navy handle it. I’m sure they can.” Delovoa, while not a boss, was a respected member of Belvaille and enjoyed financial success. His current living conditions must be quite grueling for him.