Skid

by Keith Fenwick

  While feeling exposed and vulnerable away from the reassuring presence of other people and buildings, Inel realized with some irony that for the moment he was safer with the offworlders than he would be if he made his way back to the house and was among his own people.

  “This’ll do.” Sue released herself from Inel’s grip, sat on the bank and dangled her feet in the river. From a little way downstream she heard the tinkle of water falling on water, followed by a ribald guffaw.

  “Bruce, the mad bugger!” she muttered. At least he had not fallen in and drowned.

  Inel started warily. “What was that?” He was relieved to observe that the female was not particularly perturbed.

  “Nothing. Just Bruce.”

  A match flared in the darkness as the two of them stared silently down the bank. For a few seconds Bruce’s face was illuminated in the flame before the match scribed an arc through the air, spluttering and dying as it hit the water.

  “What caused his objectionable behavior this evening?” Inel asked abruptly, wondering whether he could entrust his safety to the offworlders. He might require them to transport him to Sietnuoc independently of Toytoo and the others.

  “His pride has been wounded.”

  “Pride?”

  “Yes. Cyprus maintained he could run the farm, the organic plant here. But Bruce feels this task is beyond Cyprus’s capabilities.” She decided against admitting to a similar opinion.

  “Oh.” The statement confused Inel.

  “Do you understand? Bruce feels insulted because he knows Cyprus cannot do what he says.”

  “Impossible for Skidians to operate the organic plant?” Inel demanded defensively, in a tone that suggested she should choose her words carefully.

  “Because none of your people has stayed here long enough to learn anything. One day in the future, perhaps, with the correct training.”

  Inel nodded in the darkness, knowing what Sue said was wrong. Sue did, however, reinforce his growing suspicion that the development of the organic plant should be persevered with and its operation expanded as rapidly as possible. Under Skidian control, of course, and removed from the corrupting influence of the offworlders.

  “So Cyprus maintains he can operate the organic plant. I still fail to understand how this affects your companion.”

  “Well, apart from being here against his will, which was a bad start,” Inel’s impatient grunt conveyed to Sue that this circumstance was insignificant beside the needs of Skid, “Bruce feels it’s pointless to carry on with his work if no Skidian shows any desire to learn from him. On one hand he can see enormous potential for these plants, but on the other, nobody has shown the slightest bit of interest.” She paused to let Inel comment, but since he appeared to have nothing to say, she continued. “In order for Bruce to best help you, you must prove to him that you and your people are trying to help solve your own problems.”

  “All this is most enlightening,” Inel said, sensing Sue was questioning the capabilities of the Skidians. “But it doesn’t explain his behavior this evening.”

  “It’s simple really.” She spoke in measured tones, as if to a child who was slow on the uptake. “Bruce’s recent behavior is his way of coping with the stresses placed on him by the lack of support from you and your people.”

  Inel felt a burning rage building within him, and he restrained himself with difficulty. He would not show this primitive female how deeply she had offended him. How dare she suggest Skidians were not capable of running the organic plant? How dare she criticize the treatment they had received? They were on Skid now, and Skidians were the most sophisticated and technologically advanced inhabitants of the universe, bar none. Nothing was beyond their capabilities. It had conveniently slipped his mind that their deficient technological expertise was now endangering them and that any chance there may have been to save at least some of the people he led was almost gone. Just as many a past empire and dynasty had foundered on the arrogant complacency and warped vision of its emperors. Skid, past the peak of its powers, was also doomed.

  Inel understood that Cyprus was sure he could operate this organic plant. It followed, then, that any Skidian, including himself, could do so. Cyprus’s negative reports therefore had sinister connotations. His stewardship of Skid was certainly under threat, and his opponents had been given an unprecedented opportunity to act. They were probably poised to strike, in fact, while he sat in the darkness with this offworld female.

  Thirty-one

  Cyprus led an unwilling search party out into the darkness, in what he hoped was a vain attempt to save their leader from the offworlders. He had been furnished with the necessary equipment and orders by Toytoo in the likely event they stumbled on Inel alive.

  How opportune! Toytoo smiled, knowing he could not have planned Inel’s end any better himself. With Inel out of the way he could simply return to Sietnuoc and assume his position in this moment of crisis and deal with any attempts to oppose him. Even Myfair, his old friend and rival, whom Inel had been grooming to replace him, would not be able to stand in his way.

  Down by the river Inel glanced sideways at the offworld female who was staring moodily in the general direction of her companion. Both would have to be disposed of, permanently. And soon. A cold shiver ran up his spine and he trembled uncontrollably. Then he felt a gust of wind, which rocked him slightly, almost causing him to topple into the water.

  Inel believed in portents. He had instinctively made many decisions on receiving the appropriate sign, none of which he regretted, even when information suggested he should decide otherwise. So when he was sent a signal from the undefined powers that ruled the universe, he obeyed. This time the offworlders would not be sacrificed unnecessarily because of the misguided activities of others.

  All memories of Skid would be erased from their minds and they would be returned to their own planet. Given the nature of the space-time continuum that the Skidian interplanetary vessels exploited to journey across the universe, it was also theoretically possible that they could be returned at the very point and time of their departure, as if they had never journeyed to Skid in the first place.

  Inel’s attention returned to the importance of returning to Sietnuoc to reconsolidate his position and the practicalities of getting there. Back in the city he would begin the process of destroying Toytoo and his fellow conspirators. But how was he to return to Sietnuoc, at the same time avoiding all contact with those he planned to destroy?

  Sue stirred, much to his irritation, destroying his concentration. “Shouldn’t we be getting back?” she asked.

  The search party was stumbling around in the semi-darkness, just outside the pool of illumination created by turning on every light in the house. All but Cyprus were determined not to venture into the night in case some unimaginable fate should befall them. But even Cyprus was not confident enough to leave the lit area to the extent he could not regain it within moments.

  Inel replied to Sue decisively. “No. You have given me much to consider, and I wish to avoid any contact with the others if possible.”

  Sue spent the next minutes of silence listening to Inel’s heavy breathing, trying to work out what she had said that was so important. She listened anxiously to the Skidians’ half-hearted search and felt relieved when it became apparent that none of them would come close to finding them.

  Bruce was his only chance of getting to Sietnuoc undetected, Inel decided. However, he needed to hurry. It was possible that Toytoo, if not Cyprus, he thought bitterly, could at that moment be summoning transport to return them Sietnuoc. All it would take would be an extraordinary meeting of the senate and Toytoo could announce his death and begin the process of taking over his mantle.

  “Shit!”

  There was a splash, and something began to thrash around in the moving water. Inel stood quickly and backed away from the bank, petrified, lest. … well … what? Like other Skidians he was not imaginative enough to envisage what might be about to happen.
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  Sue jumped up and raced towards Bruce who was pulling himself from the river.

  “Bugger!”

  “What were you doing, Bruce?”

  “Beer fell into the water, didn’t it?” he grunted.

  Sue kicked the jug back in, holding him tightly so he did not go in after it.

  “What did you do that for?” he demanded angrily, trying to shrug her off.

  “You’ve had more than enough for one night.”

  “Plenty more where that came from!” Bruce tried to pull away from her, prepared to crawl to the house if necessary for another beer.

  “No!” Sue caught him around the waist and hung on, pressing her cheek against his chest and hoping they would not overbalance and both tumble into the river before she decided what to do with him.

  “Alright then, we’ll find something else to do!” Bruce chuckled, nuzzling Sue wetly on the shoulder. He would have gone further, despite her protests, but Inel lumbered up and coughed discreetly to interrupt the unseemly scene he had found himself intruding on.

  “Take me to Sietnuoc!” he commanded regally and without preamble, having decided there was no other way to get there.

  “Aw, yeah, and I’m sure the dogs would like a trip to town too,” Bruce slurred drunkenly.

  “I’m serious, offworlder.” Bruce’s name had slipped his mind for the moment. “And yes, you must bring your four-legged friends.”

  “Keep your shirt on, mate.” The idea of a drive appealed to Bruce in his present mood. It wasn’t exactly like driving for two or three hours into the big smoke for a hamburger, but the next best thing. Pity there wasn’t anything on this planet like a greasy burger with onions, eggs, cheese, tomatoes and a side order of chips. Bruce suddenly felt revved up with no place to go.

  “Are you sure you’re in a fit state to drive?” Sue asked.

  “Yeah, no worries. What do you think I am? I’ve only had a couple of beers, woman!” he exclaimed.

  “Quickly!” Inel urged them. “I don’t want the others to realize I’m going,” he said, looking nervously over his shoulder.

  “Okay, okay,” Bruce replied, dimly comprehending some form of urgency in Inel’s voice.

  They walked towards the shed where Bruce had left the ute. They met nobody; the other Skidians were either stumbling around in the dark somewhere else or they had not ventured this far yet.

  “Don’t forget your friends!” Inel hissed as Bruce opened the driver’s door and clawed his way in behind the wheel.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot.” Bruce practically fell out of the ute and made his way by an indirect route to the kennels, where he slipped to his knees fumbling for the door catches. The dogs’ frenzied barking as soon as they heard the squeaky door of the ute opening had shattered any pretense at stealth. “Shut up, ya bastards!”

  Inel snorted impatiently as he watched Bruce stagger back to the ute. Then he started fearfully as the dogs jumped onto the deck. Had Toytoo’s followers found them and were now closing in for the kill? He was sure his end had come when a dark form pressed its face against his own as he stood by the door.

  Punch got only one free lick at Inel’s face before Bruce slurred, “Get out of it!” If all pretenses at a quiet exit had failed when the dogs started barking, the cacophony seemed to attract little attention.

  “Right. Let’s buzz off, then.” Bruce dropped himself behind the wheel. He slapped Sue heartily on the knee and started the engine. “Brmmm, brmmmm!”

  “Oh, shut up, Bruce!”

  “Ha!” Bruce engaged first gear, switched on the lights and dropped the clutch while Inel was still struggling to squeeze his considerable bulk into the cab and close the door. He almost tumbled out as the ute’s tail swung around, the rear wheels spinning madly and showering the shed with gravel. Bruce flung the steering wheel to the left, corrected the slide and aimed the ute in the general direction of the central race that led directly towards Sietnuoc.

  Struggling to stay upright in the swaying, accelerating vehicle, Inel clutched wildly for something to cling to, eventually finding the handle above the door and hanging on for dear life. Sue sank down between the shoulders of the two men, bracing herself for the inevitable collision, telling herself she should have insisted on driving. At the same time she realized it would have been a fruitless exercise. Any attempt to wrest the keys off Bruce would have just led to another quarrel, which he would have inevitably won.

  Bruce was beginning to enjoy himself, his only regret being the lack of noise the ute made, as if the scattering of gravel against the side of the shed wasn’t enough. Where was the noise from a leaky exhaust manifold or muffler, the gratifying burble of a big six- or eight-cylinder donk under the hood?

  They sped past the house, a great cloud of dust billowing in their wake like a temporary fog. Sue pressed her foot to the floor, trying to apply an imaginary foot brake as fence posts and other solid objects whizzed by the side windows. As they ripped silently down the race with the dogs yapping away on the back, ivops grazing sleepily in their paddocks suddenly took fright and ran away into the darkness.

  “We don’t need to drive as fast as this thing will go, you know,” Sue muttered, knowing her complaint would fall on deaf ears.

  Bruce eased his foot off the throttle, changed into top gear, and pressed his foot down even harder. “Oh, we’re not going fast yet!” he grinned mischievously and then slowed down as he approached the wheel tracks, through the endless sea of knee-high grass, from their previous trips to Sietnuoc.

  Inel did not say a word until they entered the city; he was too busy concentrating on his next move. Hard work for a man who had almost had his whole world cave in upon him during the last few hours. Once they entered the near-empty streets of nighttime Sietnuoc, Inel, suddenly animated as if his battery were now fully charged, guided Bruce to a large, imposing structure, which Bruce recognized as the senate building.

  Once they had stopped Inel climbed out and trotted into the building as fast as dignity would allow.

  “Now what?” Bruce asked himself as Sue stirred at his side.

  He got out and relieved himself against the front wheel of the ute while having a look round. Cop jumped off and placed his own signature on the decorative railings that protected a sickly looking tree.

  “Come here!” Bruce called the dogs over, chaining them to the railing before they took off.

  “Where are we?” Sue asked climbing sleepily out of the ute as Bruce rolled himself a cigarette and surveyed the building before him.

  “Back at the senate, I think. Inel’s inside. Most hospitable of him to invite us in, eh? I reckon I’ll go in and see what the story is,” Bruce decided.

  “Are you sure it will be okay?”

  “Yeah, why not? He probably expects us, anyway.”

  No Skidian Bruce had ever met was good at saying what he meant, preferring the oblique approach that Bruce could never fathom. Unconcernedly, his nonchalance fuelled by the alcohol still flowing through his veins, which reduced whatever propriety he normally had, Bruce strolled towards the door Inel had disappeared through. Sue stood her ground, uncertain whether to enter the building and possibly get into trouble, or stay outside by herself.

  “Hurry up, woman!” Bruce called from the doorway. “We haven’t got all bloody day!” He had just decided he wanted to take his leave and get home to bed. He might even have to let Sue drive him home. He just had to say goodbye first.

  Thirty-two

  Inel was consulting his chief adviser of long standing, a thoroughly mysterious figure, who had been his most trusted confidant for decades. By some quirk of history Noslow, like all his predecessors, was a Celcion, and had been recruited from Skid’s former adversary in order to provide some form of impartial advice to Skid’s ruler.

  Since returning to his office in the senate building, Inel had concerned himself initially with the containment of the situation at the offworlder’s organic plant, ordering his personal security detachmen
t to spare nobody.

  That critical task set in motion, the renegades, as Inel thought of them, had not long to live. He now turned his attention to the offworlders and his commitment to the old gods that only he knew existed, to return them to their planet of origin.

  “Show them every courtesy. Keep them occupied until the behavioral experts …” He broke off as Bruce peered around the door.

  “Oh, here you are, mate,” he began, with more familiarity than Inel cared for. “I’ve been looking all over this rabbit warren for you. We’ll be off now.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We’ll be back off to the farm.”

  “Where? Oh no.” At all costs they must not be allowed to leave now. “Please be my guest. There are some important issues I would like to discuss with you. Noslow here will make you comfortable until I am ready. Tomorrow morning, perhaps?”

  “Oh yeah, okay then,” Bruce replied wearily.

  As Bruce retracted his head and allowed himself to be led off by Noslow, Inel shook his head in wonderment before returning to his communicator. The offworlder thinks he is doing me some sort of favor, he decided as he monitored the progress of his clean-up crew. These Skidians were incorruptible and loyal to him alone. In Inel’s experience they were most difficult to deter from their task with the usual tales of woe, flattery, bribery and the downright lies that were a Skidian’s usual defense when called to task for any failure or indiscretion.

  Inel watched their progress with a shudder, aware that he could so easily have been on the receiving end of such a team. However, clever as Toytoo and his cronies were, Inel doubted they had any idea such people existed. Myfair led the crew. Inel smiled at the thought of his favorite son and anointed successor.