The Garbage Chronicles by Brian Herbert Page A

Earth, you know,” he said.
    “You do?” Javik said. “How?”
    “You sent us gar-bahge.”
    “I know,” Javik said nervously, taking note of the affected pronunciation. “I have been sent to discuss that with you.”
    “We know you by your gar-bahge, Earthian. And I can’t tell you how happy we are to see you.”
    “Uh . . . we will straighten everything out. I promise you that.”
    “Wonderful!” the pineapple prince said. “Come down now, Earthians. King Corker would hear of your gar-bahge!”
    “Why did your people push my ship in a hole?” Javik asked.
    “Those foolish lawyers,” Prince Pineapple said, glowering around. “Our lowest social strata. And there are so many of them! They tried to gain favor with Lord Abercrombie by offering you.”
    “Offering us? To what?”
    “To our planetary God, Lord Abercrombie. It was a mistake, for which I apologize profusely.”
    The Fruit lawyers hung their heads in shame.
    Evans leaned close to Javik’s ear and whispered, “Could it be the same Abercrombie, with a new scam?”
    “We’ll find but,” Javik whispered. Then: “We’d better do as they say. Too many of them.” He removed the ship’s black and white striped Tasnard rope from its wall hook. At his mento-command, the rope secured itself to the base of the science officer’s console. A small pang of pain struck at the rear of his head, then subsided.
    Evans wrapped the Tasnard rope around her chest and under her armpits. At her mento-command, the rope dropped her gently to the ground.
    Javik followed.
    “Honored to meet you,” Prince Pineapple said, bowing graciously as Javik reached the ground. The prince straightened to face Javik, and his black button eyes wavered nervously. He was a towering Fruit, fully half a head taller than Javik.
    “Thank you,” Javik said, bowing in return. Don’t trust anyone who won’t look you in the eye, he thought, recalling his commanders’ Psych 101 course.
    On the ground at Prince Pineapple’s feet, Wizzy breathed deeply and loudly. Javik noticed this and saw that Wizzy was accumulating more dust from the motion of feet around him.
    Prince Pineapple smiled, revealing puffy white teeth which resembled kernels of white corn. Looking past Javik at the Amanda Marie, he said, “You must understand our unfortunate lawyers. Since Decision Coins were implemented for virtually all matters, we have little need of legal advice.”
    “Seedy-looking bunch,” Javik muttered.
    “Lawyers hang-around this clearing looking for clients,” the prince explained. “Rumor has it one attorney found a client here two years ago. It became hallowed ground for them after that.”
    “I see,” Javik said, shuffling his feet impatiently.
    Prince Pineapple felt obliged to explain further: “The cannister-lined pathway and sacrifice hole are hallowed for all
    Fruits,” he said. “It looks like our local dimwits saw your ship and mistook it for a giant gar-bahge cannister. We toss most of our gar-bahge in the sacrifice hole for Lord Abercrombie.”
    Javik fingered a pimple on the side of his neck.
    “They are desperate to win Lord Abercrombie’s favor. Poor creatures think they’ve been cursed.” After reflecting for a second, Prince Pineapple added, “Maybe it’s true.”
    “What an odd place this is,” Evans said.
    “Don’t impose Earth standards,” Wizzy said from the ground, using an instructor’s tone. Breathing loudly, Wizzy glowed softly orange. The dust particles on his surface melted and disappeared. He became dark blue again.
    “None of us have been ourselves lately,” Prince Pineapple said. “It’s this infernal gar-bahge thing, you know. Tremendous pressure over it. The Planet God has been troubled.” To hell with Lord Abercrombie! he thought. The foolishness he condones!
    Javik smiled uneasily. He looked back at his ship, noting many dents, torn pieces of skin, and numerous abrasions. It would require a major overhaul to make it spaceworthy