Starrigger

by John Dechancie

  I felt eyes on me, and looked toward the starboard flying bridge. A stocky, bearded man in a gold uniform was staring at me. The captain. No, not actually staring—appraising, sizing me up, the shiny visor of his cap starred with sunlight. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt their clinical gaze.

  I took Winnie’s hand and we went back inside. We took a lung trek through the ship, avoiding main areas of activity. We passed near a dining area filling up with hungry patrons, went by a ballroom, a darkened theater, skirted the trade and shopping deck, and then found a narrow stairway that led all the way down to C Deck. Below, we encountered an empty sixbed infirmary looking very underequipped, found lockers, storerooms, and strangely enough, a sign that read TOPSIDE HOLDS 5-10. I had thought that cargo would be shipped belowdecks, but some items were probably too fragile for beast gizzards.

  We finally came to the crew quarters. I looked around, found a maintenance closet full of mops and pails, and told Winnie to wait inside. She looked at me nervously, then crept inside and sat in a corner, her big eyes glowing in the shadows. I whispered to her reassuringly, telling her I’d be right back and not to be afraid. I hoped she understood—but then, my communication problem with her seemed to be one-way, with me having all the trouble.

  The crew area was divided up into little cabins of four or five bunks each. Most of the hatches were closed, but I saw a few sailors racked out on their bunks, asleep. It had been a long watch.. Luckily, there were name plates listing the occupants of each cabin; perversely, only first initials and surnames were used. Think of asking for her last name? Not you, Jake. I took a stroll through the maze of passages, squinting in the dim light. I found a total of four L. Somebodys. Lorelei Mikhailovich? Not likely, but you never know. Lorelei Souplumouvong? Improbable. That narrowed it to two, L. Finkclhor and L. Peters. Peters it is. I knocked.

  A muffled reply. I knocked again. Grumbling and general complaining.

  The hatch opened and there was Lorelei looking bleary-eyed in a tattered blue robe. “Yes?” She squinted at me. “Who’re you?”

  “Is my face that forgettable?”

  After a second, it hit her. “Oh; yeah, the truckie.” Her eyes grew wary. “What do you want?”

  “A favor… and a chance to appeal to your conscience.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m in a spot, and I need your help.”

  She frowned, puzzled, then shrugged. “Come in, then,” she said, widening the hatch.

  “First I want to show you something. Or rather someone.”

  “Who?” she wanted to know. “Hey, where’re you going?”

  “Want you to meet a friend of mine,” I said, walking down the hall. I stopped and beckoned. “Come on.”

  “I’m not sure I should,” she said sourly. “Aren’t you the one that was going to stick a torch up my behind?”

  I was about to explain that I’d mistaken her for a man; but caught that faux pas by its ugly little tail before it scampered out. “Sorry about that. I was jittery as hell. First time I ever parked inside a sea monster.”

  This mollified her somewhat: She stepped out into the passageway. “Okay, but any weird stuff and I scream rape. You won’t like what happens to you after that.”

  Probably not. She followed me at a good distance. I got to the closet, opened the door.. This made Lorelei stop and eye me all the more distrustingly.

  “Okay, Winnie,” I called.

  When Winnie peeked around the bulkhead, Lorelei came out of her tough-cynical character like a fresh pea from a wrinkled pod, suddenly all girlish smile and looking even younger than I first thought her to be. The smile looked much better on her than her usual sullen pout.

  “Oh, isn’t she cute!” Lorelei beamed. “It is a she, isn’t it? Where’d she come from?”

  “Winnie,” I said, pointing, “this is Lorelei.”

  “Hi, Winnie!”

  “Hi! Hi!”

  “Winnie comes from a planet named Hothouse. Ever hear of it?”

  She came forward and stroked Winnie’s head, feeling the thick glossy fur. “No. Is that back in T-Maze?”

  “Yes. Were you born here? I mean, in the Outworlds?”

  “Uh-huh. Look at those ears. Oh, she’s darling. Is she yours?”

  “Uh … Winnie’s not a pet. She’s a person—but, yes, she’s traveling with me and I’m responsible for her. How would you like to look after her for me?”

  Lorelei giggled. Winnie seemed to be fascinated with the color and texture of Lorelei’s robe, fingering and sniffing the cloth. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind…” she began, then bit her lip. “Gee, I don’t know. I’m pulling double-duty all this run. We’re shorthanded, and I don’t know when I’d get the time.”

  “You won’t need much. Winnie’s able to take care of herself. Actually, I had something specific in mind.”

  “What’s that?” Then, remembering, she said, “Didn’t you say you were in trouble?”

  “Winnie’s the one who’s in trouble.”

  “She is?”

  “Yes. I want you to hide her. You must know every nook and cranny of this ship, places where she could stay without anyone discovering her. Right?”

  “Well, yeah, but why?”

  “Lorelei, there are people on this boat who want to kidnap Winnie. Maybe worse. She’s in great danger.”

  She was shocked. “Who’d want to hurt her? And why, for God’s sake?”

  “It’s difficult to explain, but basically the situation is this. Winnie has some valuable information, and these people want it badly. And to get it, they need to get her.”

  Lorelei put a protective arm around Winnie’s shoulders. “She has information? What could she know that anyone wild—?”

  “Winnie’s a very intelligent creature. Don’t let her looks fool you. As I said, she’s a person, not an animal.”

  “Hmmm.” She looked at me skeptically, a little of the cynicism showing. “How do I know you haven’t kidnapped her?”

  “Ask Winnie.”

  She screwed up her face to make a snide retort, but thought better of it. She bent over toward Winnie and pointed to me. “Is he your friend, Winnie? That man there. Friend?”

  Winnie turned to me and smiled adoringly. “Fwenn!” she said and reached over to clutch my hand. “Jake fwenn!” She nuzzled my arm. “Fwenn fwenn fwenn! Jake-fwenn!” I was only little embarrassed.

  Lorelei grinned sheepishly. “I guess you’re not fooling!” She straightened up and stuck out a smudged hand. “Glad to meet you, Jake.”

  I took her hand, then heard voices in the adjoining corridor. “Quick, in here,” I whispered. We piled into the closet. When the two sailors had gone I said, “What do you say, Lorelei? Will you help us out?”

  “Sure. I know just the place, too. I can bring her food and water when I’m off-duty … but she’ll have to keep quiet and not fuss.”

  “Winnie doesn’t fuss. She’ll behave.” I thought of something. “Food’s going to be a problem, though. She needs food from her planet, special food, like all aliens. Like us, too.” I sighed and leaned against the bulkhead. “No help for it, I guess. Unless…” Well, there was a slight possibility. “Lorelei, is there any crewman who might be from Hothouse? He might know of substitute foods, things that are all right for Winnie to eat. Biochemistry is funny that way. Is everyone in the crew a native Outworlder?”

  “No, there’re plenty who lucked through, but I never heard anyone say they were from Hothouse.”

  “Hm. How about Demeter? That’s the fancy name for the place. No? Anyone ever mention they hailed from Mach City? It’s the biggest city.”

  “No, not that I…” In the bands of light coming through the louvered door I saw her massage her forehead with her palm. “Mach City. Wait a minute. Where’ve I seen that before?”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  “Yeah, somewhere, written on something. Damn it, I can’t remember where the punk it was.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, yeah! It was mar
ked on a crate we brought up from belowdecks.”

  “Cargo?”

  “Yeah. We put it in a topside hold: Special class stuff. The crate wasn’t marked, but some of the boards came off on one of them in the freight elevator. There were big bales of stuff inside, leaves and stuff, wrapped with plastic bands, and on the bands there was a name. Some company … don’t remember what it was, something about chemicals, but it said Mach City. It was in System, Polla dey Mach: I remember ‘cause I asked where Match City was, and Larry—he works with me-he says, ‘You dummy, it’s Mock City.’ He’s a punkin’ moron … but he’s cute. Anyway, that’s how I remember. We brought up a lot of those crates.”

  Well. Well, well, well. “Lorelei, is there any way we can get at those crates?”

  “Sure. The holds are locked, but that’s no problem for me. Why?”

  “Possibility, that Winnie might be able to eat some of that stuff. It’s also a good bet that…” A good bet? Sucker bet. I knew what the bales contained. “LoreIei, look—”

  “Call me Lori.”

  “Lori. I might not be able to get down here again soon. Could you take Winnie into the hold tonight and open one of those crates? Let Winnie hunt around in there for a while. She may find something to eat. She’ll know what she can or can’t consume.”

  “Uh-huh. I can do that.”

  “Good. Now, can you get her into hiding right away?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll have to be careful.”

  “Do you want to wait until tonight? Keep her in your cabin until then?”

  “Not really. I have bunkmates, you know.”

  “Can you trust them?”

  “Two I can, but the other one’s a blabbermouth.”

  “Then you’d better take her now. And another thing,” I said, wondering if this decision was wise, “don’t tell me where you’re keeping her.”

  She was surprised. “Not tell you?”

  “I think it best, but it could put you in some danger. Are you still willing?”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said evenly.

  “I think you can. And I really don’t think these people will want to mess with a crewmember. It’d make too much trouble for them.” I felt for Winnie in the dark. She found my hand and grasped it, and I squatted down and said, “Winnie, I want you to go with Lori here. You go with her, okay? She’ll put you in a nice place where you can sleep. You’ll be alone, but you won’t be afraid. Jake will come get you later.” Her grip tightened. “No, I won’t forget you, Winnie. But you must be very quiet and be a good girl. Lori will come to visit you and take you to get food. But you mustn’t be afraid. Understand? Nothing will happen to you. No one will hurt you. Okay?”

  “Kay!”

  “You’ll be a good girl?”

  “G’ gowull!”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, good girl.” I cracked the hatch and looked out, then closed it. “Almost forgot. We need a way to communicate. I don’t trust the room phones. Can you get a written message to me?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good. After you hide her, send this message to stateroom 409-B. Got that? 409-B. Send this: ‘Your suit will be ready tomorrow morning.’ ”

  She repeated it.

  “Right. That’s tonight’s message. For emergencies, send … um, let’s see. Send, ‘The galley regrets it can’t provide the special wine you ordered.’ ”

  She repeated that and said, “Got it.”

  “Now, can I leave messages at your cabin?”

  “Yeah, just slip it under the door. I’ll be there when I’m off-duty. I get so worn out, most of the time I’m sacking anyway.”

  “Okay. Here.” I took her hand and pressed a wad of bills into it.

  “No, you don’t have to.”

  “Take it, and no back talk. You’re taking a risk and you should be paid. Never be an altruist. It’ll kill you in the end.”

  “What’s an altruist?”

  “It’s what everyone wants the universe to think they are, but the universe knows better. Never mind.” I looked out again. “Right. Get going, and don’t let anyone see you with Winnie if you can help it.”

  “Right. C’mon, Winnie.”

  I watched them tiptoe down the dark passageway, then turn a corner.

  Chapter 17

  AND WHO SHOULD I see on my way back up? None other than the Weird Bastard stepping out of his cabin, catching sight of yours truly and slithering back into his hole like a mudsnake. I sprang forward and shouldered the hatch, wedging my boot between it and the frame.

  “A word with you, sir.”

  “Get out of here!”

  “We really have to talk.”

  He threw his weight against me hard and nearly took my foot off, but I shoved back.

  After a struggle, he stopped pushing and leaned against the hatch. “I’ll call security!” he said.

  “You can reach the phone from here?”

  He thought it over. No, guess not. “What do you want?”

  “As I said, a few words with you.”

  “Say ‘em.”

  “Actually, I wanted to take you to dinner. Have some friends I want you to meet. They live in the ocean, you see, and they have big, nasty teeth.”

  Suddenly his weight was off the hatch. I threw it open and dashed into the room where he was already rifling through a satchel on the bed. I kidney-punched him and maneuvered him into a full nelson, made sure he hadn’t gotten to the gun, then threw him against the bulkhead. He hit it with a thud and crumpled. I went through the satchel until I found it. A good little piece, a Smith & Wesson 10kw with a Surje powerpack grip, compact, lightweight, and deadly.

  He was on the floor with his back against the bulkhead, groaning but conscious, looking at me worriedly. I went to the hatch, closed and locked it, then walked toward him, twirling the pistol.

  “Maybe you’d like to explain that little episode on the beach,” I said, “while you still have a working mouth.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  He ran a hand through his unruly salt-and-pepper hair, then spent a good deal of time scraping himself off the floor. I stood well back, watching for the sudden move. He was a big man, but if I was any judge he didn’t have any fight in him, just a streak of guile that he was trying to hide now with a merte-eating grin.

  “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I remember now. I did see you on the island. Sure.” He shrugged and threw his arms wide. “What’s the problem? Must be some kind of misunderstanding here.”

  “I asked you if the water was safe, and you said yes. It wasn’t.”

  Innocence bloomed on him like mold. “I didn’t know! I see people swimming in there all the time!”

  “How long do they usually last?”

  “Huh?”

  He was lying, of course, but right then it occurred to me that I didn’t need another enemy on board. He could have other uses. “You didn’t know about the danger?”

  “No, I swear. Look, kamrada, it’s just a misunderstanding, believe me.”

  I didn’t bother to ask why he’d run at the sight of me, deciding to live the lie with him. “Well,” I said, “if you’re telling the truth, it looks like I owe you an apology.”

  “It’s the truth, I swear it.” He stepped away from the wall and straightened his clothes. “I don’t swim myself, but I have seen people in the water from time to time.”

  “Uh-huh.” I gave him a conciliatory grin. “Well, I guess it’s all been a mistake then. Hope you’ll accept my apologies.”

  He was all eager smile, his body sagging in relief. “No problem, no problem,” he said. “I can understand. I guess you were hopping mad. Don’t blame you, I really don’t. These things happen.”

  “Yeah.” I handed him his gun. “No hard feelings, I hope.”

  “No, no, none at all. Like I said, I don’t blame you a bit. Would’ve felt the same way myself.” He slipped the gun into a pocket of hi
s bright-blue jumpsuit. “Tell you what. Let me buy you a drink.”

  “Sounds great.”

  I let Paul Hogan buy me a drink. The lounge was crowded, noisy, and the drinks were expensive. We talked pleasantly for a while over mugs of local brew. Turned out he was a slave trader by profession.

  “Indentured servitude?” Hogan said. “You could call it that. There’s a contract involved and a term of service specified, but the contract can be bought out at any time by the contractee. Slavery?” He shook his head in protest. “No, not at all. It’s strictly a business relationship. Lots of people luck through to this maze with nothing but the clothes on their backs, their vehicles, and a pocketful of worthless currency. They need jobs, and I can get ‘em. I’m a broker… an agent, that’s all.” He lit a funny-looking, bright-green cigar. “Ever tried these? Give you a real nice buzz.” He blew smoke out one side of his mouth. “No, the reason I came over to you on the beach was because of the Cheetah. The Hothouse creature.”

  “Really?”

  “They make great domestics. Not many of ‘em in this maze. I was going to ask you if you wanted to sell it.”

  “Sell Winnie? No, I wouldn’t think of it.”

  “I could offer a good price.” He took a long pull of his drink, eyeing me like a specimen on a slide. “Uh, it seemed as if you lucked through traveling pretty light. How’s your money situation? Need a loan?”

  Ah ha. The Bait. “We’re okay for the moment. ‘Course, we’ll have to do something to earn a living eventually.” Nibble, nibble.

  “Tell me, how’d you happen to shoot a potluck? I’m just curious. Different people have different reasons.”

  “Really? In our case it was a mistake. Missed a sign, and before we knew it the commit markers were on us.”

  “Uh-huh, uh-huh.” He puffed the cigar thoughtfully. “Some people do it on purpose. Did you know that? In fact, we get more and more of those every day. Don’t ask me how the word got back to T-Maze that there was something here to luck through to, but something makes ‘em come. They want to get out from under the Authority’s thumb. Freedom, that’s what we got out here. High technology, forget it. Modern medicine, the same. Lots of things are in short supply here—but if you don’t mind roughing it, this maze is wide open. We’re young and growing. Lots of opportunities.” He sat back and crossed his legs. “You’re right about having to do something about money eventually. Prices are high around here, believe me. You should give some serious thought to selling the Cheetah. In fact, I’m going to sweeten the deal for you, give you something to think about. I’ll pay part of the price in drugs.”