Chapter eighteen

Back on the lift, I pressed the D-button. I only knew one other letter of the elevator’s alphabet – T is for Trash! – and I wasn’t about to start exploring other rooms on the ship. The way I looked at it, I had a job to do. On second thought, I ruminated, I may be taking a risk going up onto the Deck too soon. What if the Solomon Decksetter happens to be up there too? I stopped thinking about it. I didn’t have to kill him first thing, and it might help to talk to Dion about it beforehand, since he and Dex appeared to get along quite well.

The elevator whisked me up to the deck even faster than before, which was good. I didn’t want too much time to think about what I was about to do. I didn’t want to talk myself out of it; if anyone was going to dissuade me at all, I wanted that person to be Dion. For some odd reason, I trusted this guy like some sort of long lost sibling.

“Ding!”

Dex and Dion were talking to one another on the quarterdeck, discussing some grave matter, it seemed. Dex was gesticulating wildly, and Dion was really trying to calm him down. I stepped out of the elevator and they both turned to look at me from far away.

“Lester!” Dex shouted. “Get your ass over here!” The little bot was mad about something, but I didn’t care, probably something to do with Trash. Dion looked at me, his face a little guilty. When I moved close enough to see, I saw that Dion had the surfboard and the suit of armor nearby. Dex continued: “When I came up here today, I was thinking, ‘That rat sure has come a long way.’ I thought about how you organized the Trash room, how you retrieved that giant shield, and how generally I was starting to tolerate you. To top it all off, today I was going to let Dion show you how to work the Magnatron.

“So I brought up the armor, and I prepared everything for you. Then Dion informed me of your desire to mutiny. I know you want to kill me, Lester; Dion told me everything.”

“Sorry, dude,” Dion said, sulking. I couldn’t be mad at Dion; he just didn’t want us to fight, I suppose. I didn’t look over at Dion long enough for my emotions to register. I left my visage oriented toward the robot at all times, my gaze steely and steadfast.

“I know that somehow you figured a way to forgo sorting the trash,” Dex continued. “I know you discerned how to work the elevator. And I am fully aware that you went down to the library, and checked out a book on Robotics from the proxy, my cousin Neddy. The only thing I don’t know is precisely what you have planned next. So what’s your next move, tough guy?”

“Lester –”

“Shut up, Dion,” Solomon Decksetter said. “You won’t be surfing today because we don’t have a free man to work the Magnatron. I’ll need you to work the crane to get rid of the remainder of the trash on the water. And I mean all of it.” Dex paused for a spell; all the while, his eyes stayed squarely upon mine. “Right now, Dion, before I change my mind and put you to work on some other wretched task...”

Dion stood still for a good long while. Either he didn’t trust Dex not to try and fight me, or else he didn’t trust me not to go after Dex. Dion knew I read some of the book, I could tell that much. Eventually, out of the corner of my eye, I saw black dude beginning to slink away.

“Whatever you’re thinking Lester, don’t do it...” Dion said as he walked off.

“Alright, get outta here,” Dex said. He was still looking at me, waiting. “Well? You didn’t answer my question, Lester.”

“My next move?”

“Yep. You might as well tell me, so I can explain to you exactly why I know it’s a bad idea.” What was he talking about? I could kill him, the book proved it. There were a number of actions I could take to subdue him – I could Feeblejoint his ass right now. Once that is in play, I could find some way to trigger Quipzux: then he’d be out of commission. No more Solomon Decksetter. I had to lie to him; I would execute the real plan later.

Amidships, the sound of the Magnatron powering up filled the air, signifying that Dion was set to task. Neither I nor the robot turned at the sudden sounds of electricity coursing through the open air. Stalwart, staid and stoic, neither of us were going to go down easy. I waited a little longer before answering, if simply to prove to the little fucker that I was the top dog.

“You got me.”

“Tell me what you were planning, Lester.”

“Well, Solomon Decksetter,” I reveled in the fact that I knew his make and model now, “I was planning to execute a fail-safe within your programming. I was going to make it look like an accident. I was going to use an appropriate weapon from the Trash room to sever one of your limbs, an arm or something. Then I figured that you would return to your unit house, and I would follow you in secret. Once you were inside, I’d access the remote control tower and lock you up in there. Then you’d be stuck and I would sever your head with whatever I used to sever your limb.” Dex appeared to believe the lie, so I pushed forward. “Now you’re going to tell me why it wouldn’t’ve worked, right?”

“Sure. First of all, you won’t find anything available within the Trash room to dissever my limbs, unless you know how to make explosive devices from scratch – which I know you’re incapable of doing. Let’s just assume you pulled-off that hat-trick, though. You figured I’d go back to the Unit Housing, which I would not. First, I would restrain you, either pursuing you with only one leg, or one good arm. I would subsequently kick the living shit out of you (with my one good leg, perhaps), until you wished you were dead, and finally I would throw you in the brig. Only then would I return to my Unit Housing to receive proper care for my injuries. You, of course, would receive none for yours.” Still looking into my eyes he waited again to see how I’d react. “Tell me you had a backup plan.”

“I had another plan alright,” I said, thinking quickly. “I was going to sneak up behind you with a sledgehammer and then when you turned toward me, I would simultaneously stomp on one foot, whilst hammering the other one. I was gonna Leadfoot your ass (if the beheading didn’t work out, that is). Then of course I would continue as before, severing your head while you were restrained.”

“Another shit plan,” Dex said, looking less intensely at me, more bored than anything else now. “I’d have slipped one foot away from you, either the one-to-be-stomped or the unhammered one, and I would kick you all the way across the Moonmoth’s fair deck. Then, of course, time would run out for executing Leadfoot, and time would be running out for you too, due to the critical injuries you sustained. Merciful fellow that I am though, I would take you to get all fixed up in the infirmary. Then when you’re all better, I would punch you across the face so hard that you’d remember next time not to fuck with me.” He was finished. He acted as though the conversation was finished too, attempting to dismiss me by walking past me without another word. I froze, and with my back turned to him I continued softly; I wasn’t quite done with him.

“Don’t you want to hear Plan C?”