Flotsam

by R J Theodore

  “Oh gods, no.” It was as though a fog was lifting from her mind. But rather than a sense of clarity, all Talis felt was dread. Dread and panic. Dread, and panic, and something like food poisoning. She struck the side of her head against the door frame of the dark taxi cabin. “No, no, no, no, no.”

  Whoever that bloodlusting woman had been, she was gone. Illiya’s drug had worn off, leaving her nauseated and shaking somewhere in the middle of the desert road between temple and port city.

  Talis sat with her arms wrapped around herself as the litter bounced along. Ankle-deep in the bodies of her alien travel companions.

  In the span of a single breath Talis cursed Illiya’s name along with Onaya Bone’s (because, really, what was the goddess going to do to her that she hadn’t already?). And especially, she cursed her own.

  She didn’t think she had killed them. Remembered sapphire blue blood dripping from vicious dagger tips. The hands that gripped the ornate blades had been dark-skinned and talon-tipped. Not hers.

  But that mattered little. Talis was the one who would emerge from the litter in front of the alien starship with its dead officers.

  Then a wave hit her. Desolation. Aching emptiness.

  Silus Cutter is dead.

  And she was kneeling among his murderers.

  Disgust, rage, grief. They pushed up through her throat like the steam through a constricted boiler valve, and she let out another wail, half scream and half prayer. She clutched at her prayerlocks with both hands and tugged, harder and harder, as if by that motion of worship she could bring a dead god back into existence.

  Something touched her arm and she screamed, now in terror.

  From the pile of tangled limbs, Scrimshaw reached out xist hand in a silent plea. Blood, dark in the curtained litter, welled up and seeped from a jagged wound across the front of xist torso. The strike xe’d earned in protecting xist captain, a dagger slash that was angled wrong for the killing blow. It had destroyed xist carapace but left xin alive.

  Talis panicked. Relief that the murders that would be laid at her feet were lessened by one collided with the impulse to crush xist head under her boot.

  “Sneak,” hissed xist voice in that awful accent, barely audible. Spoken with wrenching effort. Here at the moment when she has to decide xist fate, xe chooses that word.

  She pressed back, as far from xin as the confines of the litter would allow.

  “You lied to us,” she said.

  Her throat was on fire. Her arm hurt where the swirling lines of Onaya Bone’s mark was seared into her flesh. The skin was red, almost purple, and the slightest turn of her wrist or bend of the elbow hurt like hell.

  Scrimshaw laid xist head down, weak. Xist cheek rested on the leg of the former Representative of Commerce. Blood soaked the delicate veil.

  “Withheld the truth,” xe said. Xist nictitating eyelids blinked slowly, and did not fully open again.

  Talis glared at xin. “Whatever you call it,” she said through clenched teeth. “You got what you deserve.”

  “We all do…” Xe paused for a moment, resting. “. . . what we must to survive. Act for what we believe is the greater good of our people.”

  Sometimes, she thought. And other times we act selfishly and court disaster.

  She’d almost sold out her world for a million meaningless presscoins. If she couldn’t get that ring back, it was as good as done. But how in five hells was she going to manage that?

  Scrimshaw pushed xist-self up from the floor of the litter, sat up as straight as xe could, and leaned back against the seat opposite Talis. A fresh flow of blood spilled over the edges of xist wound.

  “Finish me.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “You won’t kill me?”

  She considered. “No. At least not yet. You may have value as a hostage.”

  Xe gave a sharp coughing rasp. It was a rueful laugh, which brought more blood out of xist wound.

  “I have no value at all, damaged as I am.”

  “You’ll heal.”

  “I will scar.”

  Xe held xist hands out, away from the wound. It was a nasty crack in xist carapace, along the middle of xist torso where the heart might have been if xist organs were arranged at all like those of Peridot’s people. But apparently the Yu’Nyun heart hid elsewhere. All the same, the damage was extreme, the carapace plating broken off, leaving a wide expanse of ragged blue flesh. A scar was guaranteed.

  “The Yu’Nyun do not accept an imperfect being. This scar will remain with me. Ruin my future molts. I will be branded with this damage if I survive. I would be expected to disappear quietly and kill myself, and treated by the others as one who is dead already.”

  “Over a scar?” She thought of the map of scars she had. Then thought of Dug, whose marks were also a death sentence.

  “You wished to know, once, about the cultural implications of our carvings.”

  She hardly cared, now. It seemed a silly thing when The Divine Alchemists’ plan was to blow the aliens’ starship out of the sky. “I thought talking about it was taboo.”

  “It does not matter. I am Yu’Nyun no longer.”

  Xist posture had changed, she realized, from the creature who had been welcomed aboard Wind Sabre. A slight shift, she thought due to the injury. But she had to admit xe seemed more relaxed. As though who xe had been was a burden that xe was now free of. A freedom that would come with the deathblow xe requested.

  She considered her options.

  Kill xin, and sort out the aliens the old-fashioned way. Or…

  ‘Sneak,’ xe had said. And xe seemed willing to divulge the alien secrets now. Maybe she could use xin against xist own kind, as they’d used her.

  “What if I want you to live?”

  Scrimshaw tilted xist head and was quiet a long moment. Then, “Do you have a purpose I can live for?”

  “Same thing I have. Freedom.”

  Scrimshaw turned xist head, reached out a hand and pushed back the curtain of the litter. Green light highlighted the contours of xist pale face. Traced the lines of the arching forehead, xist carvings, xist mandible, xist long slender neck. Swirls of warm and cool breezes danced through the small compartment, and a wash of sand scrubbed the stagnant air.

  She waited. If xe didn’t agree to help, xe would have to die. Which it seemed would happen anyway, if xe chose to return to xist ship. So did xe want to die alone among xist own people or with purpose as a useful agent of hers?

  No doubt, though, that the Yu’Nyun would retract their boarding ramp the moment they suspected something was amiss. She’d have precious little time to get out of the litter and somehow get aboard. And no way to signal her crew before she arrived. The litter couldn’t sit at dock, its passengers hidden behind the curtains, for very long before the aliens would expect their captain to emerge.

  The communication pad. For all she knew, a report was already late in coming. They may have already sealed up tight back at dock, on high alert.

  She was no closer to having a reasonable plan when Scrimshaw looked back at her and let the curtain fall back into place. The litter’s interior was immediately stuffy again in the absence of the breeze.

  “You want the ring back.”

  She nodded, anxiety playing havoc with her stomach. Or it might have been the smell of the dead aliens that had filled the space again.

  “I can tell you where it is kept. But they would not let me board any more readily than they would you and your crew.”

  Talis was hoping for a guide, not a map.

  “What if we cover the wound?”

  “Recall your Yu’keem lessons. The uniform cannot be modified. An anomalous draping would raise more suspicion than the captain not emerging from the transport when we arrive back at the dock.”

  Her mind raced. The last of Il
liya’s drugs gave her a heightened awareness, though the courage she felt was her own. “Is your communicator still working? Could you send a message? Say that the captain has decided to stay another night, in the hospitality of the temple, to await Onaya Bone’s reply, but that I’m returning to my ship?”

  “You would like me to instruct them, on the captain’s behalf, to pay you the remaining balance on the contract.”

  That sounded a little judgmental. Xe had a lot to learn about her.

  “I would, but largely for the purpose of distraction. To make sure that access ramp is open. If we get the money we were promised in the exchange, so much the better.”

  Xe was silent a moment. Then, with effort, xe retrieved the tablet from xist pouch. The screen was cracked.

  “Oh, sucking winds, is it broken?”

  Xe played xist fingers across the screen, activating it.

  “Only the surface,” xe reported. “It is functional and will still transmit.”

  Talis peeked out the curtain of the litter. Talonpoint was still a thin dark line in the distance.

  “Do it,” she said.

  She helped xin get seated in a dignified position, wiped the blood off xist face. Xe held the tablet up above xist chest level to conceal xist wound and keep the alien bodies out of sight. The blueish light of the tablet lit xin with its watery glow.

  Before xe placed the call, she put a hand on xist arm. “Don’t you dare cross me again.”

  “I told you, Captain. I am Yu’Nyun no more. What can I gain by warning them?”

  “Vengeance, for one.”

  “Vengeance.” Xe seemed to taste the word. “For what? These corpses are no longer my people. They are dead and ruined. I am ruined, and only death awaits me if I return to the ship.”

  “For being orphaned, then.”

  Scrimshaw considered her for a moment. Xe blinked at her, xist thoughts unreadable.

  All she could do was trust xin. The whole world was upside down, and her instincts were reeling. She removed her hand and nodded.

  Xe placed the call. Spoke xist alien language while she silently watched, from the other side of the litter, for signs of betrayal. Of course, if it had been her in xist place, the first thing she’d have said was, “Don’t react, but…” and she knew little enough of Yu’keem that it would be simple to send a warning she could not understand.

  But the alien on the other end of the call did most of the talking, to which Scrimshaw made quick, sharp replies. Talis understood only a word here and there, and wasn’t even certain of them at the speed the exchange was happening. Something was wrong. The aliens spoke in even tones, but her gut was sending her warning signals at full strength. She itched to reach for her guns, to point them at Scrimshaw and remind xin of what they’d agreed. But if xe hadn’t lied about the whole ‘condemned by xist scar’ thing, she’d be doing xin a favor.

  When the call was cut, Scrimshaw collapsed against the cabin wall behind xin, breathing heavily.

  “Well?” she prompted.

  “They were too preoccupied to be suspicious,” xe said, pausing frequently to catch xist breath between words. “Something has happened at the docks.”

  At the docks. Talis felt a tightness grip her chest. “What happened?”

  Scrimshaw opened and closed xist mouth and blinked slowly, xist eyelids drooping again. Xe shifted xist hips to sit up straight, which quieted the rasping that had been coming with each breath.

  “The local authorities have arrested five members of the Yu’Nyun crew.” Xe dropped xist head slightly. “As well as your first mate, the Bone man.”

  “Rot you, Dug!” She leaned her head back. “What were the arrest charges?”

  Of course, Dug’s existence alone was enough to get him arrested. Which was why he was supposed to stay onboard Wind Sabre while she was gone.

  “The Yu’Nyun were charged with inciting a riot. Your man appears to have a more complicated situation.”

  She spared that a wry, frustrated laugh. Complicated was a good enough explanation for the Yu’Nyun. “So now what? Have they sealed up the ship and ruined our chances at getting the ring back?”

  “No,” Scrimshaw said. Xe placed the tablet on the seat beside xin, and let xist arms hang limp at xist sides. “They are sending a diplomatic party into the city with the expectation that they can negotiate payment of fines in exchange for the release of their officers.”

  “Bribe their way out, you mean.” Talis frowned. If the Bone were edgy, money wouldn’t be enough. The diplomats would likely end up arrested, too.

  Scrimshaw closed xist eyes, either resting or nearly passed out from the pain and blood loss.

  She leaned forward, reached out and prodded xist knee to rouse xin.

  “So how much of the crew does that leave on your ship?”

  Chapter 27

  “Captain!” Sophie’s strained whisper came from outside the litter.

  Talis exhaled in relief. Scrimshaw said xe’d told xist people to expect her to come back alone, as they’d planned. Still, she’d spent the ride up to her armpits in alien blood and was not entirely certain how she would cross the last distance on the docks without someone noticing the dark drying blue against the ruin of her pale blouse.

  But Sophie, having no idea Talis knew about Dug, rushed to the side of the litter as soon as it came to a stop.

  Talis put only her head and shoulders out from the curtain, carefully keeping it pulled closed. Sophie was alone, by some miracle. Talis had been half-frightened that the mob on the docks would still be there.

  “They’ve taken Dug,” Sophie exclaimed before Talis could say a word. “Captain, he was only trying to help. The aliens were talking to the crowd—I think they said something about Onaya Bone that someone didn't like, or something—and it set off a real mess. Dug thought he could clear it up, but as soon as he stepped off the ramp, they arrested him.”

  “I know, Soph. I heard.”

  “Oh,” was all Sophie said. Her eyes darted to the curtain pulled tight around Talis. “Something else going on, Captain?”

  Talis pressed her mouth tight. The docks might be clear, but every grain of sand on Fall Island had ears. “There’s been a complication. Have the litter pull up to block the line-of-sight between our gangway and the alien ship.”

  Sophie’s expression screwed into a strange mix of confusion and frustration. “What about Dug?”

  “Can’t deal with that ’til you do as I say. Go.”

  But Sophie didn’t move. She stared at her captain, one eyebrow up and mouth set in a firm line. Talis sighed and opened the curtain wide enough for Sophie to see past her into the litter. To see the three bloody, twisted alien bodies, and Scrimshaw unconscious on the bench.

  She gasped. Talis shushed her.

  “You were attacked?” she asked in a hushed, horrified pantomime of a whisper.

  “Keep your voice low. I’m fine. Illiya’s people did this, and Onaya Bone commanded it.”

  Scrimshaw stirred inside the litter, a soft rustle of the fabric they’d bound around xist wound. Sophie’s eyes narrowed on xin.

  “Just go,” said Talis, before the flood of questions could start. “I’ll explain, but we gotta move quickly.”

  Sophie looked at her, then nodded. She got the litter to pull up, around the bend of Wind Sabre’s hull and under her belly, out of view of the Yu’Nyun vessel.

  As carefully as she could, Talis handed Scrimshaw down into Sophie’s arms. Sophie’s lip twitched, and she seemed to shrink from the touch of xist slack limbs, for the first time showing antipathy toward the alien. Talis frowned. If xe hadn’t steered them wrong, Scrimshaw wasn’t their enemy. But by The Five, Nexus, and whatever hells could spare room, Sophie would need that aversion with what was to come.

  Talis dropped down and took up half of Scrimshaw’s we
ight as they climbed back into the hull of their ship.

  The litter moved away, no indication of the grisly contents that Talis had left behind. The priestesses had arranged the litter bearers for her return trip. They would hide the cab for a time, Illiya told her, to allow some measure of surprise. But in less than a day, the alien bodies were going to be displayed on pikes in the center of Talonpoint’s market.

  In less than a day, the Bone were going to war.

  “Come on, Scrimshaw, we need you.”

  Talis patted the side of xist face gently. They’d laid xin out on the surgery table in the med bay. Tried to stanch the bleeding in xist torso, but in the end had to spare the time to stitch xin up. Tisker had done it.

  Since they’d come back on board, Tisker’s face had been a mask. He asked no questions. Waited for explanation. Used his skills to patch up the alien who Talis promised—hoping that she was right—was on their side.

  Broken shards of chitin were pulled out of the wound, and then Tisker did what he could to repair the exposed tissue. They didn’t dare give Scrimshaw anesthetic, for fear of it being as incompatible as the local food was. Best they could do was stop the leak. Tisker washed the blood off his hands when he was finished, scrubbing the blue residue from under his nails.

  “I have no idea if that will do more harm than good,” he said, drying his hands on a cotton towel. He shrugged.

  Scrimshaw uttered weak protests during the suturing but now was quiet. Xe had a sluggish pulse which they could only measure on the exposed tissue. They’d have to wait and see.

  Talis ran her hands through her hair and habitually pulled on her prayerlocks. Sophie mechanically mirrored the pious gesture, and Talis closed her eyes. She hadn’t told them yet. There was too much to do, and she needed them as sharp as they could be.

  She felt sick, holding back that secret. Tried to convince herself that a small delay wouldn’t hurt. Silus Cutter had been dead for nearly a year.

  “We’ll just have to do this on our own,” Tisker said, voice flat. “What do you remember about the ship?”