“No, I certainly don’t,” I said, though a hard knot of certainly I did not even want to acknowledge to myself had suddenly formed in the pit of my stomach. There was a pause. I tried again. “Look, can I help you? Who is this? Why are you calling me?” There was another uncomfortable pause. For a moment I thought she was going to switch off on me again. Then there was a rather breathy sigh. “Look,” said my unknown caller, “this is stupid. We’ve got to meet. I was just going to shit on you but it won’t work. I have to see you. “ “Well, – “ I began, but she cut me off. “Tomorrow, lunchtime. One o’clock. At Zanzibar’s. You know Zanzibar’s?” “And how will I know who I am meeting? “ I said, with a tinge of irony. “I will be right at the back. The table in the corner. You will know who I am,” she said decisively, and rang off. I stood staring at my phone for a long while, wondering, until I came to myself. The woman with the wine had moved on. And I, it appeared, had a lunch date. * * *. Silhouette against the star, Running, pushing, thrusting away from harm. Playing dare against the glare. Running from a pirate fleet. The small space ship lifted, tilted against the star. Arch of fire swept as flames wept into the self collapsing loop. The silver arrow flew against the licking light. Off the wings and of the bow, Off the Hull and Mast. Arch of fire swept as the flames leapt from the self collapsing noose. Behind is half a score of blue bolts skimmed and shivered through the heat. The energy spittle from the pirate patrol. To the right and left, And above the Mast. Half a score of blue bolts shot and melted into darkness forward. The painful orange plasma eye winks. A pirate scum flinches. Into burning hell he goes. The star swallows its prey. The painful orange plasma eye folds. Two others remain to kill. Two hit the flanks of our hero. Shields bow down before their masters. Ceramic melts to their pitter patter. Two others remain to kill our vessel, the silver.
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