Read Online Pirate Loop, The by Simon Guerrier - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Simon Guerrier
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pizzas.'
'Cor,' said Dashiel and Jocelyn together.
'"Things like baby pizzas"!' said Mrs Wingsworth, aghast.
'What now?!' shouted Dashiel, storming over to her. Mrs Wingsworth threw her tentacles up in front of her wide and orange face. The other tentacled aliens quickly withdrew to the far side of the room, leaving Mrs Wingsworth on her own with Dashiel.
'She didn't mean it!' said Martha quickly. She wasn't sure what she could do to stop him, especially with the tray of cheese and pineapple sticks in her hands.
'You shut up,' Dashiel snapped at her. 'Now,' he said to Mrs Wingsworth, prodding her egg-shaped body with his gun, 'you tell me. What?'
Mrs Wingsworth seemed to consider her predicament and conclude she had nothing to lose. She visibly relaxed, meeting Dashiel's gaze and holding it.
'I know you can't help it, dear,' she said. 'But you three are just an absolute shambles. Coming aboard like this, all threats and violence. And you don't even know what you're eating! My boys could tell you what made the best blinis – that is what they're called, young woman – before they were fully hatched!'
Dashiel seemed transfixed by the performance. He knew he was being insulted, Martha could see, but he didn't quite understand how. The cheese and pineapple sticks were a brief taste of a life he and his colleagues had never even known. And for all this tentacled alien prisoner taunted him, the insult also gave a tantalising glimpse of a life where you could take this luscious stuff for granted. A life where food had different names.
Martha glanced over at Jocelyn and Archibald. They too were watching avidly, hanging on what Mrs Wingsworth had to say. It was just possible, she thought, that the tentacled alien had made them rethink their pirate ways.
'Yeah,' murmured Jocelyn.
'Yeah,' agreed Archibald hungrily. 'Go on, do it, Dash.'
And Martha suddenly saw that she had got it wrong. They weren't hungry at the thought of Mrs Wingsworth's world of canapés. They were excited because she'd just given them an excuse to kill her.
'Please,' said Martha, taking the tray of cheese and pineapple sticks with her as she went over to Dashiel.
'I said shut up!' he snapped at her, his eyes never leaving Mrs Wingsworth.
Mrs Wingsworth did not look away from him. 'It's all right, dear,' she told Martha. 'I'd rather get it over with now than spend any more time with this riff-raff.' She smiled with satisfaction, like somehow she'd just won a board game.
Dashiel took a step back from her and raised his gun.
'No!' cried Martha, dropping the tray to one side as she ran forward. Dashiel swiped her away with one paw, sending her sprawling across the floor, on top of the spilt cheese and pineapple sticks. Stunned, she looked up in time to see Dashiel pulling the trigger.
Mrs Wingsworth didn't scream. She stood tall and sure and haughty as the pink light dazzled round her. Martha watched appalled until there was nothing of Mrs Wingsworth left to see.
SIX
More than three hours later, the Doctor stood in the same cocktail lounge watching the space where until a moment before Mrs Wingsworth had stood. The air was rich with a stink of roasted lemons, and wisps of ash floated from the ceiling, but only the Doctor seemed in any way bothered about what had just taken place.
'You disintegrated her!' he said, appalled.
'Yeah,' said Dash. 'S'only language these lot unnerstand.'
The Doctor blinked at him. 'You disintegrated her!' he said again.
Dashiel grinned. 'You catch on quick,' he said.
The other Balumin prisoners huddled by the bay window, though not from fear, the Doctor noticed. They really didn't seem to give a stuff that Mrs Wingsworth had just been killed and that it might be any one of them next. He ran a hand through his thick hair, not caring that it probably made it all stick up oddly.
'Right,' he said, addressing the badger pirates. 'Well maybe before
'Cor,' said Dashiel and Jocelyn together.
'"Things like baby pizzas"!' said Mrs Wingsworth, aghast.
'What now?!' shouted Dashiel, storming over to her. Mrs Wingsworth threw her tentacles up in front of her wide and orange face. The other tentacled aliens quickly withdrew to the far side of the room, leaving Mrs Wingsworth on her own with Dashiel.
'She didn't mean it!' said Martha quickly. She wasn't sure what she could do to stop him, especially with the tray of cheese and pineapple sticks in her hands.
'You shut up,' Dashiel snapped at her. 'Now,' he said to Mrs Wingsworth, prodding her egg-shaped body with his gun, 'you tell me. What?'
Mrs Wingsworth seemed to consider her predicament and conclude she had nothing to lose. She visibly relaxed, meeting Dashiel's gaze and holding it.
'I know you can't help it, dear,' she said. 'But you three are just an absolute shambles. Coming aboard like this, all threats and violence. And you don't even know what you're eating! My boys could tell you what made the best blinis – that is what they're called, young woman – before they were fully hatched!'
Dashiel seemed transfixed by the performance. He knew he was being insulted, Martha could see, but he didn't quite understand how. The cheese and pineapple sticks were a brief taste of a life he and his colleagues had never even known. And for all this tentacled alien prisoner taunted him, the insult also gave a tantalising glimpse of a life where you could take this luscious stuff for granted. A life where food had different names.
Martha glanced over at Jocelyn and Archibald. They too were watching avidly, hanging on what Mrs Wingsworth had to say. It was just possible, she thought, that the tentacled alien had made them rethink their pirate ways.
'Yeah,' murmured Jocelyn.
'Yeah,' agreed Archibald hungrily. 'Go on, do it, Dash.'
And Martha suddenly saw that she had got it wrong. They weren't hungry at the thought of Mrs Wingsworth's world of canapés. They were excited because she'd just given them an excuse to kill her.
'Please,' said Martha, taking the tray of cheese and pineapple sticks with her as she went over to Dashiel.
'I said shut up!' he snapped at her, his eyes never leaving Mrs Wingsworth.
Mrs Wingsworth did not look away from him. 'It's all right, dear,' she told Martha. 'I'd rather get it over with now than spend any more time with this riff-raff.' She smiled with satisfaction, like somehow she'd just won a board game.
Dashiel took a step back from her and raised his gun.
'No!' cried Martha, dropping the tray to one side as she ran forward. Dashiel swiped her away with one paw, sending her sprawling across the floor, on top of the spilt cheese and pineapple sticks. Stunned, she looked up in time to see Dashiel pulling the trigger.
Mrs Wingsworth didn't scream. She stood tall and sure and haughty as the pink light dazzled round her. Martha watched appalled until there was nothing of Mrs Wingsworth left to see.
SIX
More than three hours later, the Doctor stood in the same cocktail lounge watching the space where until a moment before Mrs Wingsworth had stood. The air was rich with a stink of roasted lemons, and wisps of ash floated from the ceiling, but only the Doctor seemed in any way bothered about what had just taken place.
'You disintegrated her!' he said, appalled.
'Yeah,' said Dash. 'S'only language these lot unnerstand.'
The Doctor blinked at him. 'You disintegrated her!' he said again.
Dashiel grinned. 'You catch on quick,' he said.
The other Balumin prisoners huddled by the bay window, though not from fear, the Doctor noticed. They really didn't seem to give a stuff that Mrs Wingsworth had just been killed and that it might be any one of them next. He ran a hand through his thick hair, not caring that it probably made it all stick up oddly.
'Right,' he said, addressing the badger pirates. 'Well maybe before
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