Norby`s Other Secret

11. Pirates!

Oola whined, her ears lengthening. She slunk on her belly over to Fargo.

Stroking her ears, Fargo muttered, "Poor Oola. I guess she's tom between Mentor First and me. And poor me, because I guess if Mentor First lives, I'll end up minus a pet."

"He'd better live," said Jeff, "even if it means you being petless. and he'd better come back with Norby intact, because without Norby, how are we going to get home? The Hopeful will be forever stuck within the energy barrier around Jamya if we can't make use of Norby's mixed-up abilities."

"You're right. But let's be optimistic. When Norby gets back, we'll go out in search of the Others, if they still exist."

"Or, if they don't, we must at least find that wrecked ship of theirs that McGillicuddy stumbled on. No telling what information it might have on it."

"Either way," said Fargo, "whether it's the Others, or their ship, we'd better do the finding before anybody else in the Federation does."

"Absolutely," said Jeff. "We could use that knowledge as ransom for Norby. It's Norby I worry about. Right now, and after we get back home!"

The two waited with increasing impatience. Then Fargo said, "This doesn't seem to be an appropriate time for it, but I'm getting hungry. How about you?"

Jeff said, "I'm a growing boy, superannuated brother. I'm more or less always hungry."

"Too bad. Part of the problem of being organic rather than metal is that one has to refuel so much more often. Do you suppose Zi will feed us if we go down there?"

"Sure, she's a great hostess, but her aunt, the Grand Dragon, will try to chew us up."

"Let me try my charm," Fargo said, sauntering out with Oola in his arms.

Charm or whatever, Jeff thought a while later, it certainly worked.

Fargo, collarless since he had restored her property to the Grand Dragon, had eaten and was now serenading Her Dragonship, who sat in royal splendor against the sunset light of Jamya. She reached out with one careful claw every now and then and ran it through Fargo's hair.

"These are such pleasant scales," she said. "Soft and fine. How did you come to get them?"

"I have noticed," said Fargo, "that they have grown softer and finer since I have had the good fortune to meet you, Your Dragonship."

At this, the Grand Dragon made a gargling sound that seemed to signify gratified pleasure. She was obviously infatuated with him.

With his melodic tenor, Fargo had no trouble acting the part of a troubadour, and was now well into a peculiar translation of "God Save the Queen" which seemed to delight the Grand Dragon.

Jeff lacked Fargo's ability to live in the passing moment, however. He did not enjoy either the food or the song, for he could think only of the absent Norby. Even Zargl, who sat next to him and made fearsome faces at him in an apparent design to make him laugh, failed to cheer him up.

As the sun sank below the trees, the Grand Dragon offered to fly Jeff and Fargo to her palace where they might spend the night. It seemed to the appalled Jeff that Fargo might actually accept the invitation, and he said, "I think we had better stay in the Hopeful, in case our small robot returns."

Fargo, looking guilty for a moment, agreed.

But Norby did not return: The night was very dark because Jamya had no satellite and seemed to be in a section of space rich in cosmic dust that dimmed most of the stars that might have been visible in the sky.

"Fargo," Jeff said, as he lay in the top bunk of their cabin. "I'm so worried I can't sleep:'

Only snores answered him. Fargo could sleep through anything.

Jeff stared gloomily at the darkness above with increasingly dire visions passing through his mind, when he heard Oola's paws plunk against the floor and pad down the corridor to the control room. Apparently, she had leaped down from Fargo's stomach, where she had been curled up when the lights were put out.

Jeff slid over the edge of his bunk, dropped quietly to the cabin floor, and followed her.

"What is it, girl?" he said, scratching her behind the ears. She must have changed into a cattish phase now, for her eyes shone in the dim lights from the control panels.

Crash! A falling object struck the Captain's chair, bounced to the floor, and rolled.

Jeff put on the room light. Out of the falling object, half a head popped up and large eyes peered from under a metal derby hat.

"Norby!" Jeff cried out in sheer joy. The pleasantest sight in the world, it seemed to him, was the little robot appearing out of nowhere, even if he failed to make a good landing. What other robot would be as clumsy as delightful, wonderful, mixed-up Norby?

Norby said, "Sorry, Jeff. I was so upset I forgot to turn on my antigrav when I reappeared from hyperspace. Didn't you get my telepathic message warning you I was trying to get back?"

"No, but I think Oola did."

"That's very annoying," said Norby. "We're going to have to work on your long-distance telepathy…but that's for later. Right now, you've got to wake up Fargo, and both of you had better help me take the Hopeful back to the Terran solar system. After we refueled in hyperspace, the Mentor First and I tuned into the Others' supply ship and found it on an asteroid, but so have the pirates. I came back here to get help."

"What about Mentor First?"

"He's holding off the pirates, and I don't know how long he can do that, so we'd better get to him fast."

"Did I hear you say pirates?" asked Fargo from the doorway.

"I'll say it again. Pirates! Pirates!" yelled Norby. "Let's get going." He grabbed both brothers and all three ran to the computer.

The Hopeful emerged in normal space next to the asteroid.

"Wow-from Jamya slam-bang through hyperspace to my own solar system! And right on target, Norby," said Fargo softly.

"Have you stopped being mixed up?" asked Jeff.

"I'm tuned to Mentor First. Getting us here was easy. Do you have any suggestions as to how to cope with those pirates who are trying to steal the Jamya's supply ship? Look at the size of it!"

Following Norby's pointing finger, Jeff watched the viewscreen intently while Fargo was whispering rapidly to the little robot.

Another ship, tiny by comparison, but larger than the Hopeful was anchored to the small asteroid. Jeff could dimly see the huge outline of a strange wreck on the asteroid, partially hidden by its irregularities. On the asteroid, Mentor First was confronting three men in spacesuits who were holding weapons.

"But are they pirates?" asked Jeff, doubtful. "They could be Federation police."

"No chance," said Fargo. "Those are known pirates; I recognize their ship. They're renegades from the Inventors Union. Up and at 'em."

"With what?" asked Jeff. "The Hopeful doesn't carry weapons."

"You're not up-to-date, little brother. Admiral Yobo insisted that once I became one of Space Command's secret agents, my ship would have to be armed. You and I will go out in suits and distract the pirates, and Norby will plug into system G6YY of the computer. The computer will tell you what to do, Norby."

Norby was plugging in. "Right, Fargo. Are you sure you also want me to notify…"

"Yes, those are my orders. I'm certain," said Fargo hastily, pulling Jeff to the airlock and throwing him a space suit from the three hanging there.

"Fortunately, we don't need antigrav in open space-or on an asteroid either," he added, readying the jet propulsion system of the suit. He and Jeff stepped into the airlock.

"I wish you'd tell me what we're planning to do," said Jeff in exasperation, over the suit's intercom.

"Just follow me."

Jeff followed, landing between the Mentor and the three pirates.

"Howdy," said Fargo. "How about cutting me in on the spoils, boys? If you've found anything, that is."

The pirates were clearly startled at the sudden and unexpected voice in their radio receivers. Apparently they had not been aware of a ship materializing silently out of hyperspace and into their vicinity.

One of the pirate guns turned on Fargo and Jeff, with the clumsiness that attended all movements in open space.

"Who are you?" demanded the pirate.

"Fargo Wells, descended from an ancestor who was tarred and feathered in North Dakota, American sector of the Terran Federation. My buddy here and I are interested in what you found. An old robot?"

"That robot's alive, mister," said the pirate leader, "and it's dangerous. If you want anything out of us besides destruction, you'd better get ready to help us. That thing is holding some gadget that repels our force guns and produces a nasty shock when you get near enough. If you two do something useful, maybe you'll get something in exchange."

Fargo said, "Sounds good, if you can really get something out of an old robot. Is that all you've got here?"

"The wreck of an alien ship, too, that the Inventors Union might pay a lot for."

"Why should they? Is there anything on the ship?"

"That's what we aim to find out, and we don't figure on delaying things with talk. Are you going to help us or do we poke holes in your suits and let out all that nice air?"

"As it happens," said Fargo, "we're attached to our air. My buddy here is a robotics expert, so let him approach that monster."

The three pirates touched fingers and conferred in sound, the waves being carried by the material of the suits. The first pirate, clearly the leader, switched back to radio.

"You have one chance," he said. "If you can handle the robot, fine! If not, say good-bye to each other real fast, because we're not going to wait for you to say your prayers."

Jeff used rocket microsurges to bring himself down to the asteroid surface and approached Mentor First in the slow, swaying steps enforced by a nearly gravitationless world. He touched Mentor First and said, telepathically and in Jamyn, -Hold on, First, Fargo and I have come to…

— I recognized your ship, said Mentor First telepathically. I am recharged and in much better health, but this weapon is nearly exhausted. I have very few options. I could tear off their suits and kill them, but I cannot bring myself to destroy living things. It is against my programming. And yet I must keep them from taking the ship.

The pirate leader said tensely to Fargo, "How did your pal get past the repulsion field? And is he talking to that thing? How can he talk to an alien robot?"

"Maybe it's not an alien robot," said Fargo. "It could be an advanced experimental gadget of Space Command. My pal would be able to speak to a Command robot. He knows Martian Swahili."

But while Fargo and Jeff had been engaging the attention of the pirates, the Hopeful had been edging closer to the pirate ship. Now the Hopeful plunged outward and away from the asteroid, dragging the pirate ship with it so the pirates would be stranded.

"A force grapple," shouted the pirate leader waving his weapons furiously. "You tell your friends to bring it back or you both die. You have one minute to convince me my ship is being brought back."

"It's mutiny," shouted Fargo, shaking his gloved fist at the Hopeful. "They've taken over our ship, stolen yours, and marooned us all. Killing us won't get you off the asteroid now. We've got to do something fast. If you don't have any ideas, I do."

"Like what?" asked the pirate. His gun lowered as the uselessness of killing Fargo penetrated.

"We persuade this robot, probably a Command robot, to join us and use him…

"You talk Martian Swahili, too?"

"A little."

Fargo, while still talking rapidly and ignoring the guns that were pointing at him, walked over to Jeff and the Mentor. He put his hands on Jeff's suit. -It's a great thing to have linguistic ability, to say nothing of dragon bites. Try to look as though you're talking with Mentor First, and follow my lead.

He called back on radio to the pirates, and said, "My buddy knows how to push this big robot's obedience buttons, so that's no problem, and there's something on the wreck-1 don't know what-that will help us get those ships back. My buddy has to get behind the wreck because there's one piece of equipment…"

He pushed Jeff energetically in the direction of the wreck and continued to talk smoothly and persuasively, while the pirates, unable to decide what to do, had no choice but to listen.

Hidden behind the alien ship, Jeff found Norby waiting for him with both small ships nearby. He took Norby's hand, and telepathically asked, -What's going on?

Norby responded, -You know Fargo. He's got it all figured out. He wants you to take the Hopeful and place it above the pirates.

— What about you?

— I'll rescue father, and then I have to readjust the Hopeful for some heavy duty lifting before we can lift the Jamyn ship, Norby said, moving off.

Inside the Hopeful, Jeff took off his space helmet and sat down at the controls. He did not have Fargo's touch at manipulating the Hopeful, but spaceships were all but foolproof, thanks to the computers they carried, and Jeff had had at least the preliminaries of an education in spacecraft control.

As the ship came over the pirates, Jeff saw Norby move up unnoticed behind Mentor First, seize one arm, and then lift upward with increasing speed, taking Mentor First with him, while Fargo was busily and energetically engaged in pointing in the other direction.

Norby slid into the Hopeful easily and then helped Mentor First get through the airlock. Fortunately the Hopeful's control room was large.

With deep concern Jeff asked "What about Fargo?"

"He's next," Norby said.

The little robot ejected himself from the Hopeful and looking like a small metal barrel with a lid partly open, hurled himself at the pirates.

Jeff could not tell what the pirates were saying or doing, but they had clearly noticed that Mentor First was gone, and their guns were pointing at Fargo, when one of them noticed Norby speeding down upon them.

As the pirates scattered, Norby grabbed Fargo, zoomed away from the asteroid, and headed back to the Hopeful. And just then, Jeff saw five ships of the Command Fleet approaching, their lights blazing like bright stars in the sky.