by F. E. Arliss
Winter didn’t have too many more days until she was going to be forced to move her cargo. She’d amused herself the first month getting the lay of the land and hitting all of the really bad vice dens on the spaceport. She’d invented several different ways to start untraceable fires and had found the venture extremely satisfying. Arson was easy. Not that she was a firebug, but somehow, burning the places down seemed cleansing, to her, the girls she warned and saved, and the spaceport.
Jeanie was supposed to get in tonight and after that Winter wanted to move the cargo and get the hell away from Uzi. The place was crawling with brigands and thieves, at least on the dark side of Uzi where this spaceport was. Hinting to Fats that she had some goods she wanted off Uzi and into a safe haven, she’d not been surprised when he told her to talk to the Commander of a scarred cargo hauler that had no visible name on its dented hull. Somehow, Winter had known Fats would come through with just the person to help her. Or at least she had hoped he would.
Slowly approaching the wizened Commander working near the dented cargo hauler, Winter stopped several feet away and sized him up. Long wiry, grey hair was pulled back and braided in a skinny tail down his back. A worn nanite-armor vest looked like it was still serviceable but on its last legs. He reminded her of some of the bikers that used to come to the brothel in Saltillo. Usually, they’d been some of her more mannerly customers. As in everything, there was always an exception. It was strange how some people appeared respectable and were really burning hell on feet. Some looked disreputable and had manners her grandmother would have loved. Weird, but true.
Catching sight of Winter in his peripheral vision, the old man barked, “What da ya want, lad?”
“I’ve been told you may do honorable trade,” Winter said slowly. Her upper-class diction stopped the old man in his tracks and he turned to scrutinize her closely. That diction had been worth a fortune in the brothel. Class sold. Pervs always wanted to dirty up what they couldn’t have themselves.
“Honorable trade, huh,” the old man repeated, exhaling a gust of air that smelled strongly of coffee. Good coffee, too.
“Yes,” Winter replied, saying nothing further. Just letting him look her over. She could tell that it took only seconds for him to see she was a girl in disguise.
“Who might have led you to believe that?” the geezer asked.
“Fats Domino sent me your way,” Winter replied.
“I like Fats,” the old man said with a grin. “You seen that tumbling shit he pulls when he’s mad and in a fight?”
“Yes, it’s quite impressive, isn’t it?” Winter added with a grin. “Most underestimate him.”
“I suspect that happens ta you too, heh girl?” he returned, blue eyes twinkling.
“Yes, sir. It does happen quite a bit,” Winter couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her along with that statement. It had been a long time since anyone had made her feel the slightest bit of humor.
“What can I help you with, young lady,” he asked.
“Please, call me Winter,” she said, extending a hand and clasping the hard-calloused palm presented to her.
“Pleased ta meet ya, Winter. I’m Ewan. Commander Ewan Quirke. This here is Clyde,” he said, gesturing towards the squat, dirty-looking cargo ship.
“I need to move some cargo from a warehouse here on Uzi. I need it done quietly and with the utmost discretion. I also need to find a safe haven for its further transport, along with myself and one other passenger,” Winter stated firmly.
“Runnin’ from someone, girl?” Ewan Quirke asked her, his voice bore no hint of condemnation.
“Not necessarily. But, I don’t wish to be traceable either,” she returned.
“How much cargo space do ya need?” the Commander asked her.
“My cargo weighs 16 tons and has a net space requirement of 400 cubic meters,” Winter informed him.
“Whoooey,” the Commander said. “That’s some large and heavy containers to move. Let’s go get a cuppa joe and talk this through. You got time?” he asked.
“Yes, my passenger doesn’t arrive for another hour,” Winter replied.
An hour later, Winter was pacing nervously up and down the concrete overhang above the spaceport maintenance ladder. From there, she could see the landing pad and any passengers disembarking from arriving ships. She’d sent Fats down to pick Jeanie up. That gave her time to take in Jeanie’s appearance and see if they needed any medical care or new clothes.
When the cutter Winter had prepaid landed, Jeanie was the fourth passenger through the door, her dyed, thinning, red hair and long gold-mesh earrings were a beacon on the black ramp. It said worlds to Winter that the crew member who helped her off the ship carried Jeanie’s small bag and let her hold his arm on the way down the ramp. Relief flooded Winter’s body. Jeanie had traveled in style, and clearly, her style had charmed the whole crew. Thank you Heaven, Winter thought, almost close to tears. Jeanie was here and safe. Winter headed for the Clyde almost limp with relief.
Fats took the bag from the crewman and helped Jeanie into the hover-cab. It flew across the landing pad, took a circuitous route through the slum-like town and returned to the far side of the Clyde’s location on the edge of the spaceport. When Jeanie walked up the Clyde’s ramp towards Winter, the two women hugged each other fiercely. Fat’s handed Winter the bag and said, “I made sure no one was tailin’ us, Miss Winter. It’s all right as rain.”
Winter bent and hugged him and slipped him a huge tip. “Thank you, Fats. If you ever want off this berg, let me know. You’ll always have a job with me,” she whispered in his ear. Fats grinned and ducked shyly back into his hover-cab, ears tinted a darker shade of dusky brown.
“Come on, Jeanie! Let’s get you settled and get caught up. We’re leaving this planet in a few hours. Just have to load some cargo after it gets dark, then we’ll be on our way,” Winter said, practically dragging the older woman, who still hadn’t stopped gawking around, towards their small, shared cabin aboard the Clyde.
It took them four hours to cover all the lost ground since they’d last seen each other. Claudio was dead. Jeanie had indeed killed him, or at least, expedited his demise. She’d taken his money stash, then left him tied up in a side alley behind the bordello.
The girls had each taken a turn telling him what they thought of him and were free to stick a knife in him if they so wished, before they slipped out the back to the waiting vans that were taking them home. Jeanie hadn’t stayed past the fourth wound, when the youngest girl stuck a broken beer bottle in his groin. Stray dogs were already circling the alley, eyes intent on the blood slowly trickling to the ground. “Eaten by dogs,” Jeanie mumurred to Winter. “So appropriate.” Then they both burst out cackling wildly. Finally bringing themselves to sober up, each realized that outburst of laughter would not have been understood by anyone who hadn’t been through their own excruciatingly demeaning and cruel experience. They understood each other; that was what mattered.
Winter could remember an elderly neighbor from Austin who had gotten some sort of radiation poisoning working at the military base near their home. The doctors had written him off as having only a year or two to live. After twenty years he had still been ticking along, fishing and enjoying his retirement. Though if he’d still been alive now, the cascading poisoning of the Earth had reached critical velocity just as Jeanie’s ship was breaching the Earth’s atmosphere. He’d have been dead now anyway.
He’d often told Winter that if the government wanted him off their disability rosters, the bastards would have to come and kill him themselves. He wasn’t letting them off that easy. Then he’d cackle wildly just as she and Jeanie had done a few seconds before. There was something vastly satisfying about confounding people who thought they had your life in their control and played with it without thought or care.
Winter told Jeanie all about the trip to Uzi and the cargo she now owned. Jeanie informed Winter that she was now a very wealthy woman as well. Claudio�
�s stash had been a tad larger than she’d thought. Jeanie walked around sipping a cup of coffee, exclaiming, “Girl, you are a wonder! A wonder!” This was alternated with, “Oh my gawd, this is the best coffee I have ever, ever tasted.” Her eyes would close with delight as she swished it around her mouth and then finally swallowed. “Plus, did you see that Commander. He’s so virile!”
“Nasty!” Winter shrieked, then mocked gagging with her finger in her mouth. She had no idea how Jeanie could even think stuff like that with the life she’d led. Whatever! Winter was not taking up with any pair of pants for the foreseeable century.
Commander Quirke checked in with them and let them know that they were ready to depart. Gently, he instructed them how to strap in on the back wall of the bridge. Both of them watched intently as the large Viking-like pilot welcomed them with a swish of hands and a drawl that Rupaul, the superstar Drag Queen, would have swooned over. A giantess of a woman, whom Commander Quirke introduced as his daughter, Princess Arc Exousia Quirke, and a tiny Vanguardian girl named Birdie rounded out the crew.
Within the hour they’d broken the atmosphere of Uzi, cloaked the ship with a hi-tech armor that the Princess assured them was completely undetectable, and were on their way to a planet known as Renegar. It was charted on the Universal Database and consisted of a sovereign government ran by a rather eccentric queen. It would not be their last stop. They had the three months it would take them to get there to decide about an onward trajectory.
Both women glanced at the other and then let out deep breathes. Suddenly, they were both exhausted. Struggling to stay awake till they got undressed, neither made it fully out of their clothes. They simply sprawled on their bunks, Winter in the top one, and fell instantly asleep. For the first time in years, they felt safe. Safety was a commodity they never thought they’d feel again. Priceless.
Chapter Three
Alliance Introduction
When Winter finally rolled off her bunk eighteen hours later, she found Jeanie in the small mess having coffee and pancakes with Ewan Quirke. Good grief, the woman was flirting up a storm. Ugh! Winter rolled her eyes at Jeanie behind the Commander’s back and helped herself to tea and toast.
The Commander excused himself to the bridge and Jeanie and Winter settled back with their breakfasts and began studying the database Ewan Quirke had shown Jeanie how to access. They had quite a few destinations to choose from and they needed to begin envisioning what their future lives would look like. Neither was entirely sure what they wanted to do. The only thing they did know, was that they were never again going to be subjugated by anyone. Ever!
Over the next week the two women got to know the crew. Jeanie and Dag got along like a house on fire. Dag was forever wanting to paint Jeanie’s nails or curl her hair. Winter had to admit that the boy had skills. He’d made Jeanie’s thinning hair look three times thicker. Jeanie laughed and said it was all the vitamins they’d been deprived of over the years making up for lost time. Winter had seen the glance that Ewan Quirke and his daughter Arc exchanged when Jeanie had said that.
It wasn’t long before Arc Quirke wedged her gigantic body into the mess table next to Winter for ‘the talk’. Winter had known it was coming, but actually doing it was not going to be pleasant. She had a feeling she could trust this crew, but experience had taught her to always be wary.
“I know you have no reason to trust us,” Arc Exousia Quirke began.
“But you want to know all about us,” Winter interrupted her with a scowl. “Maybe ... I’ll think about it ... but you first. I know you’re not totally human, and you sure as hell aren’t part Vanguardian, like Birdie. I got real good at identifying species on Uzi while I waited for Jeanie. I saw those “non-existent” Idolum warriors that came and went with a few of the shipments. Not supposed to be any Idolum on Uzi, but there they were,” Winter stated firmly. “You’ve got their hair, long limbs and height. What are you anyway? Two meters tall?”
Winter remembered that she had been quite impressed with how stealthily the Idolum she’d seen had moved. If she hadn’t been watching the port intently, she wouldn’t have seen them at all. No matter that they were extremely tall and most sported long, white, waist-length hair. They were dressed in strange- looking black tunics or even stranger, raggedy-looking animal skins. Idolum moved like ghosts, wisping here and there and sometimes carrying tremendously heavy loads as though they weighed nothing.
She’d had to scroll through a lot of data until she found out what they were as a species. Most were considered dangerous and they survived on energy from mammalian species. Sounded a little dicey to Winter.
The Princess pinned Winter with her preternaturally-green eyes. “I see you’re quite observant. Yes, I am partly Idolum. I underwent a voluntary transformation in order to save a large population of various species that was being enslaved by a rogue human faction. Being Idolum has its benefits,” she added flexing one enormously-muscled bicep, and giggling as she did so.
“Your turn,” the Princess added, giving Winter a searching look. “Our bio-stream tells us you’re only fifteen years old. That’s pretty young to be able to afford a cargo hauler, let alone sixteen tons of armaments.”
At the furious scowl that Winter leveled at Arc, the Princess shoved her palms out in front of her and said, “Hey, don’t get upset about us knowing what your cargo is. We’ve got to identify cargo so we can take appropriate safety precautions. We knew what it was before we ever loaded it. Don’t worry, we masked its signature back on Uzi. No one else knows what it is.”
Winter’s scowl did not lessen. “My age is irrelevant, though I’m older than fifteen, my companion didn’t know that. Being small has its advantages,” she said, mimicking the Princess’ verbiage of moments before. “My cargo is my concern. Your species is your concern. Don’t intrude on my space and I won’t intrude on yours,” she rapped back at the enormous woman.
“Hey, I didn’t mean for this to upset you,” Arc said, “I just want you to understand we can help you.”
A calming wave pushed at Winter’s mind. It felt as though an enormous hand was trying shove tranquility down her throat. Shoving back from the table, her leap into a self-defense stance sent the bench flying backwards. “Don’t even try that mind-control shit on me,” Winter ground out, teeth clenched.
The Princess heaved a sigh, just as the Commander burst through the door and spotted the stand-off. “What’s up?” he barked.
Arc Exousia Quirke laid her large head on her crossed arms and said wearily to her father, “She can resist my persuasion as well. I’m beginning to feel quite useless, Dad.”
Ewan Quirke dropped down beside his daughter, put one gnarled arm around her broad shoulders and said, “Now girl, don’t ya go feelin’ less than special. We’re just running into some really talented and strong-minded folk.” Motioning for Winter to sit down, and turning away from her to pay complete attention to his daughter, made Winter feel foolish for over-reacting. She settled into one of the well-worn armchairs and watched the two of them, wary but not worried any longer.
“I suppose you’re right. It’s just first Daer could brush it off, and now Winter. I’m feeling a little passe at the moment,” the Princess said, gently laying her large head on her father’s skinny shoulder. Winter wanted to laugh, but didn’t. This was a sacred time, not the time to comment on the two disparate sizes.
“I want to go home. Can we go back to Valoria after this?” Arc asked, her voice slightly muffled in her father’s worn vest.
“Course we can, girl. General’s waitin’ for us. Whole nest is sad without ya. Course we can,” he repeated, stroking his daughter’s long wild hair, with one wizened palm. “We can drop ya off on the way to this youngin’s destination if they choose Mirage. Ok?” the old man asked gently into the giantess’s hair.
“Ok. Thanks Dad. I guess I’m just tired,” the Princess added, raising her head and looking at her father.
“You go on now and get some rest,”
Commander Quirke said to his daughter, shoving her gently on the shoulder. The young Princess stood, almost banging her head on the ceiling and slid gracefully from the room.
Winter raised one eyebrow at the grizzled Commander and waited.
“My girl doesn’t really get tired. She’s just pinin’. Love’s a bitch. Even when ya don’t know yer in it,” he added with a sigh.
Winter shrugged her slender shoulders. “Don’t know much about that, Commander,” Winter said. “Jeanie’s as much as I’ve got and we’re two friends just doing the best we can.”
The Commander nodded. “You been workin’ out with Dag and Birdie I see,” he added. “Yer a good fighter. Quick. Instinctive. Dirty,” he added grinning at her. “Birdie’s a darn dirty fighter an’ I see yer keepin’ up with her,” his eyes twinkled with mirth. “She’ll be confounded by that, I reckon,” he added.
Winter smiled slightly. “She’s a good match for me. We get on well. She doesn’t talk much and I don’t have much to say,” Winter added.
“Yeah, girl was so shy when we found her it took her days to talk to Arc,” the Commander said with a fond grin. “Both are my daughters now. I’m lucky to have ‘em,” he added seriously. “Out here, in dark space, all that matters is who ya can trust. I’m thinking you and Jeanie haven’t been able to trust anyone but yerselves for a while now?”
