THE GESSEL GOES BANANAS
As stealthy as the Gessel was, Sten didn’t want to take a chance that they’d be spotted. He had the skipper park the Gessel in the shadows of the twin black holes that were the most notable features of the Phrygia region.
It was what had made Punta Royal so attractive to privateers. Tucked in a corner of SaganGx6, the now abandoned planet had once been infamous for its anything goes debauchery.
But that was all distant memory. These days the only thing that marked SaganGx6 was that it was named for an ancient scientist.
Now Sten and his crew were stuck in the middle of the mind-numbing task of staking out a position no one was quite sure of.
Intelligence and common sense said that Punta Royal was the most logical place for Skink and his fellow pirates to waylay the Demeter.
When they began their stakeout everyone was boiling with adrenaline and high spirits in anticipation of the action that could erupt at any moment.
But the excitement soon died down and the long process of waiting and watching began. The Gessel crewmembers found themselves with nothing to do but routine maintenance and drills. On top of that was Sten’s insistence that everything be at hand when Skink and started setting up his ambush.
And so every weapon was counted, cleaned and fine-tuned to the nth degree. And he drilled them without mercy. Adding to the boredom was the fact that recreation facilities were at the barest minimum.
This was the Gessel’s first mission and she was only a few weeks out of the drydocks. Gym equipment was sparse, and the few livees they had in the library had been screened so many times that people were ready to mutiny if they had to watch them one more time.
In short, morale-sapping boredom became as much a danger as a misfired missile.
Since their escapades on the Wolf Worlds, Sten, Alex, Doc and Ida had spent many weeks and months on mind-numbing jobs such as this and so were better prepared mentally. And even they were occasionally close to going around the bend.
But the others had yet to form the psychological calluses required for long stakeout missions.
Sten knew things were rocky, but he didn’t know just how rocky they were getting until he was passing the messhall one shift and heard Alex say, “This reminds me ay th’ time when me auld ‘sarn’t major took ower our tropical unit on the wee isle ay Borneo. An his whole platoon came doon wi’ th’ dreaded spotted snake disease.”
The moment Sten heard the words “spotted snake” his heart gave a jump and he froze in place. Surely things hadn’t gotten so bad that Kilgour was resorting to the spotted snake story. No, he was just imagining it. Alex wouldn’t stoop that low.
Would he?
And then he heard Corporal Pegatha take the bait, hook line and sinker. “Spotted snake?” she said. “What the clot is a spotted snake?”
Sten raced in the messhall, shouting, “Stop right there, Kilgour. There will be no spotted snake stories on this ship. I absolutely forbid it.”
“Oh, come on me wee mucker,” Kilgour protested. “Surely ye won’t deny uir shipmates th’ vital knowledge ay hoo tae deal wi’ spotted snakes.”
Sten stood firm. “Nope,” he said. “Not happening. There will be no spotted snakes. You’ll have to kill me, first.”
But before he could go on, Pegatha whirled on him. “No disrespect intended, Captain,” she said, eyes blazing. “But some of us are wondering why you are being unfair to Mr. Kilgour. And to the rest of us.”
Sten gobbled. “Unfair? Unfair? You don’t know the meaning of the word, Corporal. Someday you’ll thank me for this. I’m saving you from a fate worse than a thousand deaths.”
“You already spoiled the banana story,” Pegatha said. “Mr. Kilgour was just getting started telling us about that marvelous adventure. And you wouldn’t let him continue.”
“That’s true, Sir,” Mk’wolf said. “We never did hear what happened to that poor gravtrain conductor and his bananas.”
Other members of the crew chimed in. They were all so bored that any cause could unite them.
“Come on, Captain,” they were pleading. “Play fair.”
They started chanting: “Bananas. Bananas. We want bananas.” They looked like a class of kindergarten mutineers.
Faced with the prospect of a revolt, Sten backed down. “Okay,” he said. “But don’t say later that I didn’t warn you. On your heads be it.”
A broad grin splitting his mug, the Scotsman rose to his less than imposing height and cracking his thick fingers said, “Very weel. By popular demand Ah weel continue th’ tale ay th’ gravtrain conductor an’ his escape from death by electric chair.”
Turning to Sten he added, “Ain weel sae th’ spotted snake fur desert.” But when he saw the fierce glare on his friend’s face, he changed his mind. “Okay. Mebbe it’s best if we give th’ spotted snake story a wee rest.
“Naw, if ye will recalect by some miracle th’ gravtrain conductor escaped execution by electric chair. Nae only ‘at, but he got his auld job back.
“An’ soo, now he’s daein’ th’ same thin’, over and over again. Blowin’ th’ whistle fur arrivals an’ departures. Th’ gravtrains comin’ an’ gang. An he’s getting’ mighty bored like you puir wee bairns here on th’ Gessel.
“Then one bonny day aw’ th’ passengers hud gotten oan board an’ he blew his whistle reit quick just as a wee laddie dropped his books.
An th’ little bairn went to retrieve them from th’ platf’rm when Bam! he was caught atween th’ doors and he was sliced in half.”
Pegatha and the others gasped. “Oh, no,” she cried, “not again. The poor kid.”
Kilgour gave a sigh. “Och, aye, lassie, once again.
“An’, once again he goes to trial an’ once again he’s foond guilty of murder an’ once again he’s sent straecht tae prison tae be electrocuted th’ very next day.
“So, the pure gravtrain conductor was sittin’ in cell waitin’ t’ die when alang came the warden, who said, ‘Weel, it’s yer last meal again. Whit dae ye want this time?’
“Th’ gravtrain conductor says, ‘weel, since yoo’re askin’, Ah’d loch 50 kilos ay bananas please.’
“The warden shakes his head in disbelief. ‘If ye say yet wants bananas, then bananas ye’ll git.”
“A little later he returns wi’ th’ bananas an’ the ravenous cheil lobs them doon his throat. Peelin’ an’ eatin’. Peelin’ an’ eatin. Until he’s not chewin’ any more, but just lobin’ doon his throat fast as he can. Afore long he’s eatin’ all 50 kilos a bananas.
“Soon as he’s finished they take heem to the chamber an’ he’s strapped in the chair. An’ the electrodes are attached.
“An once again th’ executioner grips the handle ‘at weel end the gravconductor’s life. An’ he yells, ‘Three… two… one…’ An he yanks th’ handle down.
“But to his bewilderment, nothin’ happens. They check th’ wires. Then the power. And they pull down the handle again. An’ again nothing happens. An the warden cannae believe his peeps for the gravtrain conductor is perfectly braw.
“An’ the executioner cries, ‘This is an act ay god. Clearly, yet aren’t meant tae die.’
“An’ so once again the gravtrain conductor is released and is frae to go. An once again, the court decrees that th’ gravtrain conductor should get his auld job back.
“An’ there he is, daein’ th’ same thin’, over and over again. Blowin’ th’ whistle fur arrivals an’ departures. Th’ gravtrains comin’ an’ gang. Th’ braw doors openin’ and closin’. An he’s gettin’ mighty bored.
“An then one bonny day—”
At that moment every alarm on the Gessel began to blare. Alex stopped mid story and everybody shot Sten accusing looks, as if the alarms were his fault.
The comline came to life and it crackled with the skipper’s voice. “All hands! All hands! Enemy in sight. This is not a drill.
“I repeat, this is not a drill…”