No Eye Patch For Me

Iron Maggie adjusted her eye patch, and then hit the EncourageBot's King and 6 with a 7 of diamonds.

"Player walks the plank," she said, her voice bored. She raked in the worn chips with her left hand and the faded cards with her right -- Maggie defied her dealer indoctrination, as she had for the last few weeks, because it gave her a little thrill.

The EncourageBot, whom she privately called Tweed Jacket, chuckled like he always did when he busted. "Oh well, winning makes the losing worthwhile." It was one of his seventeen stock phrases, and the one Iron Maggie currently hated most.

The other player seated at the blackjack table wore a name tag that read "Janine Schwartz," and all of the staff called her Mrs. Schwartz. Iron Maggie thought of her as Metal Face, because some of her synthetic skin had worn off revealing the EncourageBot's steel skull beneath. She sat on a Jack and 5.

"I'll stay put, dealer." At least her voice synthesizer still worked. Some of the EncourageBots squawked incoherently when they sat at her table.

Maggie shrugged and flipped over her down card, revealing a 2 to go with her 10. "Blimey, me buckos, dealer takes a card." She stifled a yawn and pulled another from the rack. "Dealer gets an 8 and catches a fair wind. No booty for ye."

She raked in Metal Face's cards with her right hand and the chips with her left. It was half past 1 bell, which meant Jolly Henry, her second cousin and pit boss, would wander by in the next ten seconds. He was as predictable as the autonomous vacuums that patrolled the threadbare carpets of the Royal Fortune.

"Ahoy, matey," said Jolly Henry. He wore a leather vest over a red silk shirt, baggy black pants, leather boots and belt, and of course an eye patch. "Slow day, but everything here appears shipshape."

Iron Maggie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Of course it's slow. We only have the EncourageBots on the floor today, just like every day."

"Arr, it's bound to pick up."

"No it isn't, you parrot-brained moron."

Jolly Henry flinched, and a frown managed to peak through his perpetual smile. "Iron Maggie, me lass, you need a break. Report back at 2 bells for the Captain's Chantey. It will be fun!"

She felt something snap inside of her, something frayed thin by 16 years of slow and steady wear. "No, it will not be fun." Her voice rose to a shout. "Singing the same damn songs for the ten thousandth time while decrepit EncourageBots clap and pretend to love it, that's a cursed nightmare!" She fumbled with her eye patch, and when she couldn't undo the knot, Maggie ripped it from her head and threw it to the casino floor. "I'm done!"

Jolly Henry gaped at her -- like a fish being asked its date of birth, he wasn't equipped to deal with this situation. "Iron Maggie..."

"And from now on, my name is just Maggie." She turned and headed for the exit, left eye blinking as it adjusted to the bright lights of the gaming deck.

Iron Maggie wiped the tears from her eye and looked out the viewport. She loved to watch the specks of light slowly wheel by, cycling through once every few minutes. She knew the brightest one was called The Sun, and the blue one Earth, but the red one called Mars fascinated her the most.

Her father, Leather Face Jock, claimed they were more than a lifetime's travel distant from their home on the Royal Fortune, but Maggie thought he was wrong. The motes of light spoke to her, reached out to her, drew her toward them. They didn't feel distant.

The other reason she favored this area was privacy -- true, the surrounding rooms weren't maintained by the autonomous vacuums, so a light sheen of dust covered everything -- but her fellow crewmember avoided it because of its proximity to the Forbidden Area. That doorway was marked with the legend, "Here There Be Dragons."

According to the stories she'd heard as a child, only two people had ever ventured through that door, and neither had returned. One of them was even a relative -- her mother's brother, Orangebeard, though her family never spoke of him.

"I can't believe you spend time in this filthy part of the ship."

Maggie sighed and turned from the port. Her mother, Iron Molly, stood behind her, lips pursed and foot tapping. In one hand she held Maggie's eye patch. "Jolly Henry told me what happened and asked me to find you. He said if you come back and behave yourself, he wouldn't report your scurvy actions to Black Bart."

"Black Bart is a decrepit old fool!" Maggie knocked the eye patch from her mother's hand.

"Stop being so dramatic. Pick up the eye patch and get back to work. Your father and I shouldn't have to interrupt our assignments because you threw another temper tantrum." Her mother shivered. "Besides, you know I despise this part of the ship. It's an evil place."

"Lies, just like everything else in out lives. Worst of all, lies we tell ourselves and then believe."

Iron Molly's face softened. "Honey, I know how you feel. We all experience doubts -- especially when we're changing from children into adults. Your perspective changes as quickly as your body.

"But the basic facts remain the same -- you were born a pirate and you'll die a pirate, like your Grandmother Iron Lanie, and her mother Iron Susan, and me."

Maggie frowned and turned back to the viewport. "Just leave me alone."

"It's almost two bells, and we have to be at the Captain's Chantey."

"Go away," Maggie said.

"You're as bad as my brother -- you deal with Black Bart on your own." Maggie heard her mother stomp away.

When she calmed herself, she decided to go shopping.

When Maggie entered the Ladies Boutique of Finest Frippery, Mizzen-dog William sat on a stool behind the counter, fast asleep. A tremor of excitement ran down her spine -- had she discovered a kindred spirit who was also dissatisfied with the sham lives they were living? If others existed who wanted to rebel against the robotic adherence to that which is and always will be, maybe she could overthrow Black Bart.

That's mutiny, the most dastardly deed on the seas, said a little voice in her head. As a child, she played Pirate and the Mutineers like everyone else. She tried to forget the Mutineers always lost.

She barely knew Mizzen-Dog William, as he was at least thirty years her senior and had a son one year older than Maggie, but she still ran to him and gently shook him by the arm. "Mizzen-dog William, wake up."

"Hurmbbla," he said. Then his eyes sprang open. "What's wrong? Is it an emergency? Has the end finally come?" His face scrunched up, and Maggie thought he might cry. She took several steps backward and bumped into a naked mannequin.

"No, no, calm down," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

He rubbed his eyes, and to Maggie he still looked half asleep, but at least he relaxed.

"Why are you here right now?"

Maggie cocked an eyebrow, a move practiced in the mirror to show extreme annoyance. "Uh, I want to buy a dress."

"Right now?" Mizzen-Dog William jerked his head back and forth, looking for something that wasn't there. "Aren't you early?"

"What?"

Mizzen-Dog William repeated his scan of the room, frowned, and finally asked, "Where is Mr. Jacobson?"

Now Maggie checked her surroundings, wondering why Mizzen-dog William thought she would shop with an EncourageBot. "I'm not sure where Mr. Jacobson is, but I'm here and ready to buy."

Mizzen-dog William shrugged. "What are you looking for this afternoon?"

After Maggie received more muzzy-eyed answers from Mizzen-dog William, she decided to browse through the racks herself. The selection was skimpy -- she only found three dresses that looked like they would fit. She picked a light blue evening gown because it least resembled her uniform.

"I'll be in the dressing room," she called to Mizzen-dog William. He was leaning against the counter, head in hand, eyes closed, and snoring.

Maggie pulled off the black tunic, peeled off the red and white striped tights, removed her hat and shook out her blonde hair, and after some fumbling with the unfamiliar catches, she managed to put on the dress. She stepped from the dressing room and admired herself in the three-way mirror. She smiled at her reflection -- the dress seemed to make her hazel eyes sparkle with glints of blue. Her skin, exposed in new and tantalizing places, tingled.

As she approached the counter, three bells sounded, and Mizzen-dog William suddenly stood upright, eyes wide open. "What the...? Iron Maggie, where did you come from? Where's your eye patch?"

"First, my name is only Maggie now, and second, I've been here for almost an hour, but you've been asleep."

Mizzen-dog William's features drooped into a guilty expression. "Please don't tell Black Bart I was derelict in my duty. I admit it, for the last five years or so, I've been taking a nap during the Captain's Chantey." He wrung his hands. "No customers ever come in until the Jacobsons stop by shortly after three bells."

"Quit your pleading. I'm not going to tell on you," Maggie said.

"Iron Maggie, my dear, why are you wearing that Passenger dress?"

She sighed. "I'm not a pirate anymore."

He laughed. "I remember when I tried to quit being a pirate. Black Bart straightened me out fast." He laughed again. "So what are you now, a Mutineer?"

"No!" Maggie wanted to avoid that kind of talk. "I'm a Passenger."

"Oh! Well, just press your thumb against this screen to pay for it. Don't worry, you can return the dress when you change your mind."

Maggie scowled, placed her thumb on the screen, and the green approval light flashed. As well it should -- she had six years of back pay.

"Very good Iron...uh...Miss Maggie. May fair winds return you to our store."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'll see you."

As Maggie left, two of the EncourageBots, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson, were entering the store.

"Hello!" said Mrs. Jacobson. She walked with a limp because one foot was a hunk of melted slag.

"Haven't seen you around," said Mr. Jacobson. He tipped his hat, revealing a bald metal scalp.

Maggie didn't bother to correct him, even though he sat at her table every evening and blew roughly $100 of the house's money on blackjack. She tried to pass around them, but they were rather enthusiastic.

"Did you see the Captain's Chantey," the wife said.

"Quite a fine show. Those pirates really can sing," her husband chimed.

Maggie tried to say something but Mrs. Jacobson burbled on. "You really must show off your new dress at dinner tonight."

"Quite right, quite right. The wife and I are lucky -- this evening we'll be sitting at the Captain's table."

Mrs. Jacobson picked at her tattered clothes. "I need a new gown to impress Black Bart. He's so dashing."

Maggie wanted to scream, "He's a bald, buck-toothed fossil that craps in his own pants!," but she held her tongue. Being polite to Passengers was ingrained, and the EncourageBots were there for practice as her parents reminded her with minor keel-haulings throughout her childhood.

Mizzen-dog William stood inside the store, by the door, wringing his hands and checking his watch. "Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson, what a pleasure. I apologize for the mess -- it's been a hectic afternoon." His pirate accent thickened into his "customer voice", the repeated lines sounded rote, like Maggie before she started picking up the cards with her left hand.

"Quite all right," Mrs. Jacobson said. "Have the new dresses arrived?"

"Sorry, milady, but becalmed seas prevent us from seizing any fresh shipments. Try next Tuesday." He looked relieved to get it out.

Maggie giggled at the thought -- someday the EncourageBots would be walking around without clothes but still cheerily proclaiming, "My goodness, these are the loosest slots in the Solar System!" Whatever that meant.

Maggie wanted to escape before she broke into laughter, but the EncourageBot couple kept jockeying to keep her in the circle of conversation, so she gave them a little head fake to the left and went around them on her right.

"Avast, ye mateys!" she called over her shoulder. Sheer force of habit.

Maggie wandered through the passenger sections of the ship. The boutiques, salons, casinos, and performance halls, staffed by pirates dedicated to their Captain and their cause, provided their services to the nearly 500 EncourageBots that roamed the ship. She noticed some of the shops fronts were closed and barricaded, and others carried very few items.

In the past, the EncourageBots were part of the background, something Maggie interacted with in a minimal fashion. Gambling, shopping for dresses, and dining at the Captain's table weren't their primary objective.

Maggie quickly discovered that the EncourageBots were also dissatisfied with the current state of affairs, and when the chance to encourage a real, live Passenger came along, they didn't pass it up.

Normally that would be fine -- when the ship was at its capacity of 20,000 Passengers, the EncourageBots enhanced the Royal Fortune experience, spread memes about the cruise's special events, and urged people to spend more money in the casino -- like a light seasoning of garlic powder. Being the only Passenger on board, it was more like garlic cloves jammed into each nostril.

"Have you been to Davy Jones' Locker yet? They have the most stunning jewelry!"

"The Captain...SQUAWK...fair sailing...SQUAWK...two days. SQUAWK."

"I just love the whole pirate motif, don't you? It reminds me of holos I watched as a child."

Maggie managed to escape them for a while by ducking into an eatery that served Syntho Shrimp. She recognized the pirate behind the counter but didn't know him well, being several years her junior. He looked surprised to see her, but he was still young enough that pleasing the Captain was his watchword.

"Ahoy, and welcome to the Shrimpery! What may I get for ye, matey?"

"Oh, nothing for me," Maggie said. "I just needed to get away from the EncourageBots for a few minutes."

"Aye, those landlubbers are programmed not to enter these waters."

"Thank the Captain for that," Maggie said. "So what's your name?"

"I be Pegleg Paul, son of Pegleg Pete." His chest puffed out with youthful pride.

Maggie knew who her father was. He performed in the adult only show, with the freaks and death defiers. "Your leg...is it still...?" It was a hard question to phrase, and one that filled her with a sense of curious dread.

The youth sighed and said with a long face, "No, both of my legs are still meat." His face brightened. "But in three more years, when I'm sixteen, I get my pegleg fitted. I already decided to cut off the left one! But, uh, I probably shouldn't be talking about this with you.

"I'm just nervous -- you're my first Passenger ever."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "I know that. But I grew up like you did, as a pirate on the Royal Fortune. All of my friends and family are pirates."

The boy gave her a doubtful look. "Then where's your eye patch?"

"I quit."

His eyes widened. "You quit being a pirate?" She could see the confusion on his face as he tried to fit the concept into his limited life experience. He failed and fell back on his training. "Would you like some of the sea's bounty, served fried, boiled, or scampi?"

"I don't want any food! I just need someone to talk to."

"Oh, I'm sorry ma'am. The Shrimpery is restricted to staff and Passengers dining here. Can I interest you, lass, in our limited time offering -- a shrimp kabob?"

Maggie threw up her hands and stormed from the store. Several EncourageBots lurked nearby and pounced when she exited the restricted area.

"You simply must sample the sea's bounty at the Shrimpery," one enthused.

"I just came from there, you barnacle brain," Maggie said.

"...est..slo...est...slo...est...slo...est...slo," another said.

"That Black Bart is certainly rugged and handsome, in the dangerous way." The EncourageBot favored her with a coy smile.

"...est..slo...est...slo...est...slo...est...sloooooo..." The repeater wound down to silence when Maggie shoved it to the ground and kicked it in the head.

The other EncourageBots didn't seem concerned with her boticide but kept on with their spiels.

"I'm on my best behavior, because I don't want to walk the plank," one said with a giggle.

"...all the latest styles!"

Maggie glanced around for an escape route and saw EncourageBots from across the concourse were moving her way. She sprinted away from the group congregated around her and ran for a faux alley. She grabbed the bottom of her dress and pulled it up so she could run more quickly, which elicited a startled yelp from three members of the crew working as "vagabond performers". They broke into a stirring rendition of "Yo Ho Ho and Bottle of Rum" at the sight of a Passenger.

Maggie ran down the alley until it dead-ended at a building's façade and pounded on the wooden door. It opened to reveal Cutthroat Pete, wearing a giant smile. "Sorry, ma'am, crew only."

"Cutthroat Pete, it's me, Maggie."

"I know, but you're a Passenger now, and this area is off limits to Passengers." He fidgeted with the pommel of his sword. "I'd be more than happy to escort you to your room, milady."

"Don't be a bot brain. Let me through."

"I'm sorry Maggie, I can't. Why don't you enjoy one of our lovely shows, or try your luck in the Casino."

"Cutthroat Pete, I'm more than a pirate costume and eye patch -- we all are. Do you remember? I kissed you when we were thirteen. We wore each other's eye patches for three months."

He adjusted his vest and picked a piece of lint from his sleeve. "Come on, uh, Miss Maggie. This is hard for all of us. We haven't had a Passenger in so long, we don't really know what to do."

Maggie considered going back and retrieving her costume from Ladies Boutique of Finest Frippery, but the prospect filled her with dread. "So what am I supposed to do?" She fought to hold back tears.

"Oh, well, Black Bart was delighted to hear we have a Passenger. He ordered everyone to treat all Passengers with the greatest respect and really belt out the tunes during the two bells Chantey. Most of us are pretty excited."

Maggie closed her eyes and wished she was on Mars. She didn't even know what it was, but it had to be better than this.

Cutthroat Pete lowered his voice. "Some of us were talking -- if it works out for you, a few of us were thinking about becoming Passengers too. I mean, we've all thought about it, but you opened the way for the rest of us."

That surprised Maggie -- she hadn't considered the possibility of living in the Royal Fortune with fellow Passengers. She shook her head. "It's just a different kind of self delusion," she said. She needed to be alone to think it through. She felt less sure of herself. Right now, she felt like feeding herself to the dragons. "I'll see you Cutthroat Pete."

He nodded and shut the door.

Maggie walked back down the alley and found the EncourageBots had returned to their aimless Passenger search. The three members of the crew playing the part of Minstrels were waiting for her.

"Fair lady, grant us the boon of thine ear, that we might entertain you." They all looked at her, smiling, anxious to ply their craft for a Passenger. "C'mon Maggie!"

"Did you get rid of the EncourageBots?"

He nodded his head ever so slightly, as though ashamed to admit it.

"All right, I'll listen to a song."

The three men cheered and launched into "Fortune of the Royal Family", a song about a great victory for Royal Fortune, and why it was thus named. Maggie knew the words by heart, having performed it thousands of times herself, but when the finished, she dutifully clapped and excused herself.

During the song she realized she already knew the perfect place to hide out and think.

The bright lights marched in their eternal circle, and Maggie watched them, deep in thought, though a smile would flit across her lips when the red light called Mars came into view.

She was sick of living a sham life -- she realized being a Passenger was as bad as being Iron Maggie. She wondered if she could live here, by the viewport, where she would have privacy and her lights. She picked up her eye patch, still laying where she knocked it from her mother's hand and looked at it.

"There you are!"

Maggie turned, disbelief seizing her heart.

"You absolutely must visit the casino, my dear. The Royal Fortune has the loosest slots in the Solar System."

"What are you doing here?" Maggie rubbed her eyes -- the EncourageBots had never come to this part of the ship before.

"Why, I came looking for you. I hoped we could spend some time talking -- there are so many wonderful things to do on the ship. Isn't being a Passenger the best?"

Maggie shook her head. "It's no better than being a pirate."

And she knew there was only one place left for her to go. She slipped the eye patch onto the EncourageBot and wondered if anyone would notice or understand. They might start treating her as part of the crew.

She pushed past the EncourageBot and walked down the corridor toward the double doors. Another EncourageBot hailed her and increased his pace, shouting something about "the best buffet in this spiral arm!"

Hanging on the door was the familiar legend: "Here There Be Dragons."

She pressed her thumb against the control pad and the door swung inward, opening as wide as the corridor. Maggie turned and saw the EncourageBots had flattened themselves against the wall for no apparent reason. She shook her head in relief and shut the doors.

The room was 50 meters long and 5 wide, and along both sides were regularly spaced doorways, 10 on each wall. Two of the doorways were closed.

Maggie waited for a dragon to emerge and destroy her, but the room remained calm and quiet. She took another step and stopped when a voice emerged nowhere.

"You have entered the Royal Fortune escape pod bay. Do you wish to declare an emergency?"

"Uh, no."

"Very well. This communication ends now."

Maggie wondered what the voice meant, and started when another voice emerged.

"Ahoy, matey. If you're hearing my voice you either aren't afraid of dragons, or you're more afraid of EncourageBots."

Maggie laughed. "Hello?"

"You've wised up and realized being a pirate is fruitless, and as you've no doubt discovered being a Passenger is no fun, so you're probably desperate for another choice. That's why I made this recording and beamed it back to the Royal Fortune for the next disaffected soul to come along.

"They think I'm crazy for spending this much money to beam a message to supposedly empty space, but I can't, or won't, attempt to explain it.

"Anyway, if you go through one of the open doorways you'll find an escape pod that will take you away from the Royal Fortune. I won't lie -- compared to life on the ship, it's a lot harder out here. But it has meaning. And that's worth all the money in the casino.

"I'd recommend going to Mars. It's less complex than Earth, and selling the escape pod will support you there for a lot longer."

The voice stopped, and just as Maggie wondered if the message had ended, it picked up again.

"One other consideration -- I would recommend not telling the authorities where you came from. Claim you can't remember, because they won't believe the truth. To everyone alive the Royal Fortune is a near mythical ship, lost in space 150 years ago, and anytime I've ever hinted at having been there, people look at me like I'm crazy. Which in a way, I was. I finally decided it would be a disservice to the crew -- they're living the way they want."

"So forget that life and embrace the new one. Good luck to you, from me, Eric Marrinini, formerly known as Orangebeard."

Maggie clapped her hands. Maybe she could find her Uncle! She ran to the nearest doorway and looked inside. Bench seats lined either wall, illuminated by dim emergency lights. Maggie felt her knees sag, and she leaned against the metal doorframe. She stayed like that for a moment, eyes closed and cheek pressed against the cool metal, taking one deep breath after another.

Deliverance.

Maggie opened her eyes, took one last breath, and stepped across the threshold. The lights brightened as Maggie walked down the aisle. Above the seats were cabinets and she looked in one, discovering packets of food. A small bathroom sat in one corner, with the privacy curtain open.

Flashing arrows in the floor led her to the front of the escape pod. She sat in one of the two seats and the screen before her lit up.

"Destination?"

"Mars!" She could see the red pinprick of light spinning out of her small viewport's range. She hoped the ship didn't have to see it to go there.

"Accepted. Are you ready to launch?"

She thought about going back, to see if anyone would come with her. But she realized it would be futile.

Still, at first she couldn't say it -- then it exploded from her. "Yes!"

She heard the door behind her slide shut, and straps snaked from the seat and embraced her. "Launching," the craft announced. A shudder passed through the small ship, and Maggie gulped as her stomach cartwheeled in unison with the lights.

And then the red one, Mars, came into view and the spinning stopped. She stared at the red globe and felt relieved. She had no idea what to expect there, but it would be better than what she had on the Royal Fortune.

Especially if there were no eyes patches.

David lives in Austin, where he works a day job, writes, and drinks beer. He's sold 8 stories to date, works as a submissions editor at The Town Drunk, and maintains a website at coolmajaka.com. This story is for mom.