They had stowed the chest of treasure in the hold.

  “What this planet?” asked Limpet as they orbited Kawkab Souk. The viewscreen showed a desert plain with occasional green oases beneath a cloudless sky.

  “It’s a bazaar planet. You can buy almost anything here.” Long John concentrated on coming in for a landing near the bazaar.

  He glanced over his shoulder at his crew. The spiders stared intently at the screen, chirping among themselves.

  “Buy with money?” asked Limpet.

  “Yes. Why don’t you go back there and hand out a couple of gold coins to each of your guys?” said Long John. “A couple means two,” he added, not wanting to lose all his treasure. But since the spiders had played a major role in gaining it, he thought it only fair they should share in the loot.

  Limpet’s eyes grew wide. He scrambled out of the copilot’s seat and Long John could hear him conferring with the other spiders. They let out a “Whoopee!” and he heard the clink of coins.

  He smiled to himself. He had actually grown fond of the little buggers. Hard to believe, but they had grown on him.

  For the occasion he wore piratical attire: a white blouse, a silver-trimmed vest, and a wide-brimmed hat with plumes. The tent-covered bazaar stretched for miles; possibly no one knew how much acreage it covered. He had only visited a couple of times, but he knew you could wander for days and get lost. But you wouldn’t starve, because it was full of little food stalls, as well as shops selling anything you could imagine. Fabrics, clothing, blankets, pottery, paintings, sculpture, antiques, furniture, tools, jewelry, and in the back corner, slaves and other black market items.

  They crossed to the large opening to the bazaar, the small mob of spiders trailing Long John. He paused just out of the way of the throngs entering, and faced them. The crowd of small eyes stared up at him.

  “Listen up,” he said. “Some ground rules. Put your weapons away. No shooting or stabbing anyone unless you are in danger. No climbing up people; if you need to talk to a shopkeeper, jump on his counter. Try not to scare anyone. You can spend your gold on anything you want, but try not to waste it. Got all that?”

  They all nodded eagerly. “All right. I will meet you back here at the entrance in two hours.” He stood aside and waved them onward.

  They halted inside, their eyes widening in amazement at the vast number of items, the floor-to-ceiling ads, the billowing draperies everywhere. Then they scattered in all directions. Long John followed more slowly, his senses also overwhelmed by the cacophony and colors filling every square inch.

  He went looking for an old friend of his, Alice au Fromage. She had saved his life three or four years earlier, and he always liked dropping in to visit. He found her back in her pottery stall.

  “Lady Alice!” He swept off his hat with a low bow.

  She turned toward him, eyes widening first in surprise, then in delight as she sailed toward him.

  “Captain Queeg!” she exclaimed, folding him into an embrace. It was a little like being engulfed by the Marshmallow Man of intergalactic fame; for a moment he found it hard to breathe.

  “Splendid to see you!” she said, pulling back. “How have you been?” She was a robust lady gowned in yards of scarlet satin and lace, her black hair piled on top of her head. He smiled at her with affection.

  “Great, how about you?”

  She seized his hand and pulled him over to a small table, wedging herself into a seat while he slid in across from her. “Wonderful, when am I anything less? I hear your erstwhile crew is making a sad name for themselves in the space lanes, however.”

  Long John frowned. “I haven’t heard. What have they been up to?”

  “Spacing people after robbing them, mostly. You really should have taught them better, you know.”

  “That’s why they quit,” he said. “They thought I wasn’t bloodthirsty enough. I’m well rid of them.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I hope you can find a more compatible crew.”

  “Actually, I have. A crew of—well, they’re kind of small, but we get along pretty well.”

  “Really? What are they, dwarves?” She chuckled. “Will you have some tea? Genevieve, bring tea for us, please?”

  Her apron-clad servant girl bustled up to the table with a pot, cups, and a plate of sandwiches. Long John found he was hungry and the food was welcome.

  “Have you heard anything about this dark force approaching from the Soaring Dragon Nebula?” Alice asked.

  He cocked his head. “No. I’ve been busy. What’s up?”

  “No one knows. It’s coming closer, but it’s still very distant, way on the edge of known space, so no one’s paying much attention, I’m afraid. And no one will until or unless it impacts the economy,”

  He looked at her frown. Lady Alice was usually not one to be bothered by rumors. “You sound worried,”

  “I am. I’m hoping the Coalition will do some investigating.”

  “Last I heard, they had their hands full with the Hadriani rebellion,”

  “Oh, them.” She waved a dismissive hand. “That’s nothing. The Hadriani are always troublemakers.”

  He would have asked more, but just then, someone came up beside Alice, and she said, “Oh, you haven’t met my newest husband. This is Grunchy.”

  Long John looked up at the person standing beside her. And up. And up. He must have been seven or eight feet tall, green-skinned, his small eyes squinting down from behind a nose that occupied most of his face.

  “Very pleased to meet you,” said Long John.

  The being scowled. “You not making eyes at my lady, eh?”

  “Eyes?” said Long John. “No, no eyes, not at all. It’s um, we’re just old friends. She saved my life some time ago.”

  “Oh, pish,” said Alice. “We just got you off that desert planet after your worthless crew sabotaged your ship and abandoned you there. You’d have got off eventually.”

  The creature did not seem mollified. “Better not be making eyes.”

  Alice giggled up at her spouse. “He’s jealous, isn’t that cute?”

  Cute was not the word Long John would have chosen; “menacing” seemed more appropriate. But he kept his mouth shut as he rose from the table.

  “Well, I’d best get back to my crew. They’ll be searching for me. Have you seen anything of Martinez lately? I’ve got some gold to sell him.”

  She waved a hand toward the rear of the bazaar with disdain. “Of course, he’s plying his trade over there somewhere. It’s lovely to see you, dear boy. Do stop in again sometime.” She extended a lace-clad hand, and after casting an eye at her green-skinned spouse, he lifted it and gave it a quick peck.

  It was always a pleasure to see Alice again, but as usual after leaving her, he felt as if he had narrowly escaped death. He headed back toward the entrance to meet his crew.

  He scarcely recognized them as they scampered up to him. Half of them wore plumed tricorn hats like his, the rest had various fedoras, sombreros, or jaunty caps. They wore belts with scabbards, jeweled cloaks, and capes. They must have found a costume shop for dolls.

  They halted before him in a mob and shouted “hurrah!” They twirled in circles. “We pretty, yes?”

  “Yes, you’re elegant,” he said, keeping his face straight. “Hardly recognized you.”

  They stocked up on several boxes of MREs for the spiders to eat, then trekked back to the Don Quixote to collect their chest of treasure and carried it back via a rear entrance. Once inside, it did not take long to locate ‘Martinez’ Rare Coins and Collectibles,’ as the notice above the dark doorway declared. Pushing aside the curtain, Long John entered, hauling one end of the chest. He set it down and caught his breath.

  A skinny individual with a ferret-like face came from behind the counter. “How can I assist you, sir?” he purred. Then his eyes widened. “Long John! I’ll be keel hauled! What a pleasure!”

  “Sure it is.” Long John grinned. “Long time no see, Slithy.”

  Martinez shuddered. “Don’t call me that. Have you got something for me?” His glance fell on the chest, and he licked his lips.

  “Came across this collection, and wondered what you’d give me for it.”

  Martinez halted, staring at the spiders as they struggled with the lid. “I presume this is your—ah—crew?”

  “They are indeed.”

  The spiders managed to pull the lid open, and Martinez abruptly lost all interest in anything else. The coins and artifacts inside glittered, even in the dim light.

  “Oh, my,” he said.

  “Yes, indeed.” Long John grinned in satisfaction. “Quite a collection.”

  “But these must be—um—I’ve heard some items went missing from a recent museum collection.”

  “Could be.” Long John’s gaze was limpid. “Found these floating in a puddle on a desert planet.”

  “Really.” Martinez picked up a goblet rimmed with rubies and turned it in awe. He tapped a finger on the rim. “I’ll give you five hundred credits for the lot.”

  “Five hundred!” Long John squinted in disbelief. “There are a hundred and twenty pounds here.”

  “Well, that’s a fair price, four credits a pound.”

  “I want at least fifteen,” said Long John.

  Martinez chuckled. “Oh, my dear boy, you’d be lucky to get three anywhere else.”

  Long John opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Limpet ran up a nearby curtain and made a flying leap to Martinez’ shirtfront. Eyeball to eyeball with the fence, the spider uttered a succinct word: “Fifteen.” He showed his sharp teeth in a smile.

  “Uh—uh—uh.” Martinez stumbled back. He glanced wildly from side to side. “I guess—I could manage it.”

  “Wonderful. Limpet, what did I tell you about climbing up people?” Long John said mildly.

  “No do it?” Limpet slid to the floor, grinning wickedly. “Okay, I no do any more.”

  Martinez handed over eighteen hundred credits, sending it via his Swiftbank to Long John’s account on his handheld. He walked out trailed by the spiders, feeling lighter and richer by far. Long John knew that Martinez couldn’t really complain, since he could sell the valuables back to the previous owner for three times what he’d paid.