by Jean Kilczer
The campfire was ashes. The clouds had closed up like a puzzle and reflected a luminous flat light. The air was humid and my shirt and pants were stuck to my skin.
I heard Big Sarge's booming voice as I rubbed my eyes and stood up. He sat on the picnic table with Joe beside him while some of his men stood, and others sat around him on the ground. I brushed myself off and walked over, scratching my dirty hair.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Sarge called as I approached. “I was just about to come over and kiss you awake.” He pursed his lips.
Some of the men chuckled.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Joe.” I nodded to him in greeting. Chancey, standing among the men, waved and I waved back. “What's happening, Sarge?” I asked.
Sarge shifted position. “I was just telling the boys that I contacted an arms merchant from planet North Claudius.”
“Oh, yeah?” I rubbed sand out of my ear.
Sarge nodded. “Tag can supply us with everything we need to close down the mine and fulfill our contract. He's bringing in the medical supplies Bat wanted and ingredients for the sous chefs.”
“When's he due to arrive?” I asked.
“That's a secret.” Sarge sucked a tooth. “So is the location of their landing site. Part of the deal.”
“How you feeling, kid?” Joe asked me.
"I'm OK. How's Bat
“They worked him over pretty good,” Joe said, “but he'll make it.”
I glanced at the cabin and bit my lip. “Guess I'll go see him. Is Sophia home?”
“She's been taking care of him,” Joe told me.
I walked to the cabin and went inside. The room was warm and too stuffy. It smelled of a wood fire, though the fireplace was cold. “Sophia?”
“I'm in the bedroom,” she called.
I went in. Bat lay in one of the two beds. Sophia sat at his side and held a compress to his left cheek.
“Bat.” I smiled, though it wasn't easy. His face was swollen and discolored. He had a bandage around his head. His eyes were black and almost shut. I sat on the other side of his bed. “How you feeling, Bubba?”
“Like I'm lucky to be alive,” he mumbled though puffed lips.
“They couldn't kill a tough southern rebel like you with an axe.”
He reached out a hand and I took it.
“I knew,” he drew in a breath, “there was a reason we rescued you.” He coughed and I saw the pain on his face. “I had hours to live when you came in like Superman.”
“Ah, shucks. Anytime, Bat.” I squeezed his hand.
“You better go and take a shower now.” He smiled. “You're leaving a trail of dirt.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe so.”
I walked around the bed and kissed Sophia on her head, then went into the bathroom and wiped the tears that blurred my vision. I threw my clothes into the vib unit, shaved, even brushed my teeth, and took a long, warm, luxurious shower. By then my clothes were dry and I got into them. As Huff would say “Is it good to feel almost human again?” I chuckled.
“It's your favorite, I hear,” Sophia said as I came into the kitchen and breathed the aroma of a sizzling steak.
“Damn, that looks good.” I sat at the table as she brought dishes of steak, mashed potatoes with butter floating on top, a crisp salad, a chunk of mud pie and a cup of Earthbrew.
“Woman, you've outdone yourself. Thanks, Soph.”
“You think it's enough to fill you up?”
“It's a beginning.” I picked up the fork and knife. “I'll have one of the horses for dessert.”
She laughed and sat across from me. “I don't think you'd like the taste of horsemeat.”
“Oh, no?” I chewed a piece of steak.
“Well, it's a bit sweet and gamey.”
“You're kidding, right?” I said as I swallowed the steak. “You eat horses on New Lithnia?”
She shrugged. “They're cheaper than beef, and more tender.”
I cut another slice of steak. It was tender and juicy, and some of the tastiest meat I could remember eating. “Did you find a new recipe for the sous chef? This is great.”
She leaned forward and smiled. “I have a different cookbook.”
A sudden fear struck me and I put down my knife. “It's…uh…it's not horsemeat?”
She looked away and shook her head. “Finish eating, Babe, you need the nourishment.”
I stared at the steak and suddenly I felt sick without consciously knowing why. Something was tugging at my mind. Something I didn't want to break through. I had a hard time swallowing the piece I was eating. “Sophia?”
She looked back.
“You know I only eat mock meat. Right?”
“I guess you mentioned that.”
I pushed the plate away. My stomach churned. “This is deer meat, isn't it? That little deer you shot in the woods. Isn't it!”
“Where do you think they get mock meat from?”
“They clone the animals for parts, and then they grow only the parts. Don't you know that?”
“I suppose I do. If you can afford it.” She got up and hit the table with a palm. “I can't afford it! That's why I live off the land. I told you that.” She pointed a finger at me. “And you can't use your credcount here.”
“Sophia.” I sat back. “I never lied to you.” I gestured to the plate. “I never tried to trick you, not since that night we met. I thought I could trust you.”
“Of course you can trust me. I'd never break that trust.”
I pushed the plate away so hard the steak slid off. “You just did!” I got up, strode out of the cabin and slammed the door behind me. I went to the empty picnic table and sat on it.
The sky was wringing out a drizzle of rain. I thought of the small deer, the joy of running through the woods, of eating sweet grass, of having a fawn at her side in the spring. And then the agony of a beam weapon breaking her back. And it was all over. I sat with my hands draped over my thighs and stared into the woods. I felt like throwing up.
Sophia came out and sat next to me on the table.
I stared straight ahead. “I feel as though I can't trust you anymore. How do I know what other tricks you'd use on me?”
“It wasn't a trick, Jules. You were exhausted and you hadn't eaten in a day. I wanted to give you the best meal I could.” She reached out a hand to touch my shoulder.
I brushed it away.
“I didn't lie to you,” she said.
“You see a distinction? I don't!” I turned to her. “I'm an astrobiologist, Sophia. I don't kill animals. I study them on different planets.” I got up and started walking. I had to work off the anger and the sick feeling in my stomach.
“Jules!” She followed me.
I stopped and gestured toward Huff, who was still asleep. “What if Huff didn't have language? Would he be fair game?”
I saw tears wet her cheeks. She shook her head. “Of course not.”
“Why not? What separates the animal kingdom from us?”
“That's not fair. I tried to help you.”
“Next time, don't try.” I strode into the woods.
She didn't follow.
Rain fell heavier as I walked along a game trail, not knowing where I was heading. Maybe I'd been too hard on her. We came from different worlds, literally, but even more, different backgrounds. I knew people who had grown up on farms. Their attitudes toward animals was diametrically opposed to mine. There were pets, and there were food animals. And while I made no distinction, they did, from their earliest upbringings.
I leaned against a tree and wiped rainwater from my face. Where the hell was I, anyway? The woods were thick and flat, with no high points to study the surrounding terrain. The sky too, was flat. I've never had a very good sense of direction. I had my comlink, but Boss Slade might be monitoring all calls within miles of Wydemont Creek.
I continued walking and broke through a clearing. There ahead, a house. Fields. Farm machinery. I started toward it, then stoppe
d. No. Boss Slade had bought the residents of Wydemont Creek. They were paid for and packaged in finery. I couldn't take the chance.
I skirted the farm, climbed an escarpment overlooking the barn and corral, and sat under an outcrop, out of the rain. Damn, I was hungry, and thirsty too. But I formed my plan. It was getting close to dusk. When night fell, I'd sneak into the barn, steal a horse, and call our base camp. Let Slade monitor the call if he could. I'd use a code to tell whomever answered that I would be on the pier in Wydemont Creek. Code Word Bug Bag Crusty. Sophia would know where I'd be. They could send a cubair to pick me up and then take a circuitous route back to camp. Well, that was the plan. Implementing it was the more difficult part.
With darkness, warm, yellow lights flicked on in the house. I saw movement behind the open curtains. A family, embraced within those protective walls. I lay on my back and thought of my lost love, Willa. I had tried to steal a horse from her ranch on planet Halcyon, but she caught me and Lisa at it. And then she ended up giving me the horse so we could escape the Dream Czar's men. “Where are you now, Willa?” I whispered. Spirit said she'd reincarnated on a planet humans couldn't visit because of the crushing gravity and the violent climate. As though Great Mind just didn't want us to be together again. I wiped a hand across my wet eyes. It wasn't just rain. Great Mind knew that if I could join her, I might off myself, and he did not condone suicide.
I rolled to my stomach and watched the house. A horse nickered from the barn. I could smell them from up here in the humid air. Not a bad smell. There were two air-and-ground vehicles parked near the front door of the house. I might be able to steal one, but a horse could travel in the woods, and an aircar would be missed sooner.
I climbed down the escarpment, jogged to the barn and went inside. Two draft horses and a young Appaloosa munched hay in their stalls. I took a canteen from the tack room and put on a set of raingear. I filled the canteen at the trough pump and drank my fill.
The Appaloosa was not happy with a nighttime ride. He fought my attempt to saddle him. But finally I won and led him outside. The barn blocked the view from the house. I mounted, unhooked the corral gate and guided him through. I hooked the gate back on and trotted him into the woods. A dog barked, but no one left the house.
When we were well away from the farm, I reined him in and took out my comlink. He bucked and almost threw me. “Whoa!” I pulled up his head, then patted his neck to soothe him. I flipped open the comlink and turned it on. “This is Jules,” I said.
“Hello.”
"Who am I talking to?
There was a pause.
“It's Jules. Who is this? I don't have any time.”
“Uh, Jules,” a male voice said. “Where are you?”
“Listen to me. Slade might be monitoring the call. Tell Sophia I need a cubair to pick me up. Code Bug Bag Crusty. You got that? Bug Bag Crusty. She'll know where I'll be.”
“Oh, OK. Bug Bag Crusty. Where are you now?”
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the rain. The voice had a metallic sound and an Altairian accent. I shut off the comlink. “Crotemungering bastards!” By now they'd have my location. It was possible that someone at our camp had also picked up my message. One thing for sure. I had to put miles between this location and myself. I urged the Appaloosa into a trot toward an uphill clearing. He moved sideways and slid on wet leaves, then caught his footing.
Dammit! This young stud wasn't fully trained. It was my will against his as I yanked his head around with the hackamore and guided him up the hill. From the top, I saw the misty lights of Wydemont Creek in the distance. “C'mon, Horse.” I patted his neck and rode toward town.
It was probably close to midnight as we approached Wydemont. The rain gear was great camouflage as I rode down a side street and to the pier. The town was in full swing, with streams of ground and air cars, and enough casino lights on the main drag to challenge the stars.
But it was dark on the pier, with only a few well-spaced overhead lights. Three fishermen leaned against the rail, covered in raingear, their poles in the water. Tackle boxes lay by their sides.
“Catch anything?” I asked as I rode by.
“Not yet,” one answered without turning. He threw back his pole and sent the line sailing into the water. The Appaloosa whinnied and reared. He came down hard on front legs and bucked. I found myself sitting on the pier.
“You crotefucker!” I jumped up as he bolted. He slammed into a fisherman with his shoulder. The fisherman was knocked down. I saw his green tail lash out from under the rain suit.
“Oh, shit!” The three Altairians were between me and the street. How could they have known? And then, as I ran to the end of the pier, I remembered. Joe had once said that a comlink can be traced even when shut off, once you have its primary location.
I skidded to a stop and ripped off a wooden sign that said End of Pier. The Altairian out front reached me and drew back a fist. I lifted the sign and gritted my teeth as I held it out, stiff-armed. He hit it and howled. “My hand! I broke my hand.”
The next one reached me and I swung the sign and caught him on the side of the head. He gasped and tripped over his feet. I gave him a kick that sent him into the water. The third crote stopped and looked at me, legs braced, unsure what to do. “Here, catch!” I threw the sign to him and he caught it. Then he growled, threw down the sign and leaped at me. I dived off the pier and into cold water. I swam to a piling and pulled myself under the pier.
“Where did the prit go?” one of them called.
“He's under the pier!” another answered.
I pulled myself along by the pilings, out past the pier and into deep, dark water. The pull of the tide was incoming. I sidestroked, low in the water, without splashing, and swam out into the harbor where the current was stronger. I took out my comlink, turned it on and let it go. The green light disappeared as it sank. “Go fetch!” I muttered.
“He's got to be under here someplace,” I heard. “Spread out. We'll let the prit freeze to death under the pier.”
The current dissipated further into the harbor and I swam, shivering, to a sandy beach away from the pier, and crawled out, staying low to the ground.
“Going for a midnight swim?” a voice asked.
I jumped.
A group of four Terran scuba divers stood around a small fire.
I got up and approached, rubbing my arms through the rain jacket. “Mind if I join you?” I asked with my teeth chattering.
“Come ahead,” a male diver said. “Is that some new kind of wet suit?” He grinned.
“Wish it were.” I shrugged out of the soaked raingear and stood near the fire.
A woman, still in her wet suit, handed me a towel and smiled. “Neoprene's warmer, you know.”
“Yeah.” I dried myself off as best I could.
“Catch anything?” a teenaged boy asked and chuckled as he stripped off his suit.
I was still shivering. “Probably pneumonia.”
An older man with a white mustache walked over with a blanket and a cup of hot coffee. “You better warm up before hypothermia sets in.”
“Thanks.” I wrapped myself in the blanket. My hand shook as I took the coffee and drank some. I watched the three Altairians spread out along the pier.
The older diver looked back at them. “Friends of yours?”
“No.” I gestured toward the artificial gills and sonar headgear. “That's some hi-tech equipment you've got,” I said, to change the subject. “I didn't know New Lithnia imported this stuff.”
He glanced at the Altairians. “It doesn't come cheap, but we manage.”
“Looks like they lost something under the pier,” the younger man said.
I shrugged and drank more coffee.
The woman picked up a bug bag full of flapping crusties. “We're going to cook these on the beach. Want to join us?”
I shook my head. “I just ate,” I lied.
She chuckled. “You shouldn't eat before a
dive, tag.”
“Why don't you sit in our T-Bear Cub,” the older man said and gestured toward a ground-air craft. “I'll turn on the heat and you can warm up.”
“Sounds great.” I went to the vehicle and slid into the driver's seat. “Nice Cub,” I said as he reached in, started it, and turned on the heater. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and let the warm air wash over me.
“I just bought her two weeks ago,” he said. “It's fully insured.” He closed the door and walked back to his group.
Now what did he mean by that? I thought.
I hated to do it. I really did, but I threw the shift into gear, punched the power button, and tore across the beach and onto the dark side street. I turned the Bear Cub west, toward our camp, and floored it.
When I was past Wydemont, I swung into a dark dirt road, turned off the lights, and lifted the craft. Two sets of lights rose behind me and spread out. Might just be people returning from the casinos.
Then again…
When I checked the rear mirrors, the lights were gone. Had they landed, or were they also running dark?
I banked the craft and headed north, away from our camp, just in case I was the Judas goat leading Slade's men to our camp's location. It's fully insured, the white-haired diver had said. Was that an invitation to steal the craft and head home with Slade's men on my tail? Their hi-tech dive gear was expensive. So was this fast, sleek craft. Who was paying the bill? I wondered as I soared over a snow-peaked mountain.
Suddenly the engine whined down and sputtered. “What the hell!” I was losing altitude. Fast! A button flashed. On Star Engaged, it read.
“Oh my God!”
The craft plummeted, silently gliding as I tried to guide it between peaks. Somewhere, in a Wydemont Creek police station, an operator had shut down the vehicle and turned it into a glider.
With my eyes glued open and my heart demanding to be set free, I tightened my seat belt, turned on the lights, and rode the thermals down into a black valley.
“Please, Great Mind,” I prayed as I pulled up the nose and slammed into the ground, “no rocks!”
The Cub plowed a furrow deep enough to plant a crop, or to plant me. It flipped and slid to a halt upside down. The seatbelt was jammed. I hung there, looking at the ground overhead and the sky below. The alarm announced Emergency. No fucking kidding! The red light blinked. The siren wailed. With my great view of the night sky, I saw the lights of two crafts as they lowered.
