Debatable Space Read Free

stare.
    “What ransom do you require?” I ask him.
    “Your people will be informed, in due course. In the meantime, you will be kept under house arrest. All my people are armed
     with paralysing sprays, any insubordination and you will be kept in semi-coma. However, provided you can live according to
     the ship’s rules, you will be accorded full privileges as a prisoner of war and will be treated with courtesy, respect and
     dignity. We are signatories of the Post Geneva Convention, you can be assured of our professionalism and good intentions.”
    “You are the shit I excrete from my arsehole,” I point out to him. “Your mothers were whores who fellated animals for money.
     I recoil at your presence, I have no doubt that you eat your young, alive and screaming.”
    “I, ah…” The Captain blinks, a little taken aback at the vehemence of my verbal assault.
    “And you’re a bitch,” says the woman, Alliea. “And your father is scum. An evil bastard fucking dictator who has crushed the
     life out of humanity!”
    “Easy, Alliea,” says the Captain mildly.
    I am shaken, but do not show it.
    “You are sworn enemies of the Cheo?” I say to them. “You want to
defy
him?”
    “We want to, uh, take lots of money off him and then run off giggling,” says the child, Jamie. And then he grins.
    Don’t lose your temper.
    “I demand to be released.”
    And don’t provoke them. Let the Cheo pay the ransom, it’s only money.
    “The Cheo will never negotiate with terrorists.”
    “Your father is a rich man. He can afford it.”
    “Surrender, or you will feel his wrath,” I tell them.
    They start to laugh at me. “Surrender or you will feel his wrath!” mimics the child, in a booming B-movie voice, hopping up
     and down. Flanagan, too, has to cover his face with one hand to hold his laughter in.
    “I will not be treated like this.”
    Flanagan tries to resume his previous severe look. “You’re our prisoner now,” Flanagan says, “you’ll do as we damn well .
     . .”
    I strike Flanagan in the face. He has no expectation of the blow. His skull shatters and blood flies from his nose. I whirl
     like the wind, claws extending from my exohands, and I slash the hamstrings of the Loper, back-kick the woman and . . .
Lena
    I blame you. You gave me poor advice.
    Not so, Lena. I specifically told you not to lose your temper.
    But you might have guessed I’d ignore you.
    (Sigh.)
    How was I to know they’d be so good at fighting?
    These people are pirates Lena. They are deadly and seasoned warriors. You cannot defeat them with your dojo training.
    My pain is infinite, my predicament painful and harrowing. This is torment, this is hell, this is hopelessly humiliating.
    Lena, console yourself with…
    Shut up! I am in semi-coma. I can move, I can talk, I can breathe, I can eat. But…
    But I feel as if I’m trapped under a massive gravitational field. Every movement is slow,
so
slow, slo-mo with heartburn, and each breath is an achingly prolonged rasp and wheeze.
    And, I, am, ob-lig-ed, to, speak, a, syll, a, ble, at, a, time.
    It, is, un, en, dur, a, ble.
Jamie
    Wow! She’s hot.
    What a babe! A beaut.
    I wonder if she fancies me?
    Maybe I’m too young for her.
    Or at least, I look too young. Maybe ten was a mistake. If I was eleven, or twelve, maybe I could still be a player. But women
     hate it when your balls haven’t dropped and you don’t need to shave. How picky is that!!!!!!
    I watch her on the hidden camera, as she shuffles from wall to wall. Her face is a frozen mask. That semi-coma must hurt like
     hell. I wish she could see me. Come on, look at me! Here I am! Jamie! The cute one!
    Even semi-paralysed, she still does it for me. Hornnyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
    I assume the Captain’s planning to kill her.
    Pity.
    Maybe I should call in and see her? Win her over with my banter and my rare ability to fart rhythmically?
    But maybe not. She might think I’m immature. She might not like it when I pick my nose and