by C. Gockel
“His father,” Talos whispered to Craze. “Don’t ever ask. Lepsi will go on ‘n on about his nutty family for days.”
The spacecraft rumbled, hissing. It jetted off the landing platform, drifting up and out. When it was far enough from the docks, the boosters engaged and the vessel lurched away from Siegna. Craze stared out the tiny slit of a window at the lights of the city growing smaller. They diminished into a clump, then a spot, then a spec, reducing Craze to a man from nowhere.
Siegna became the past, a former life which would forget him quicker than liftoff. A tear trickled down his cheek. The stun wore off enough to allow him to brush it dry. He straightened in his chair and stretched his jaw attempting to ask the aviarman about the ship and the places he’d been, but only, “Bwa wo bwa,” came out.
“Seems you excited him with your ship talk, Talos,” Lepsi said, stretching his legs out into the aisle. “My family isn’t that loony.”
“Says you.” Talos fingered a pin on the lapel of his coat, orange words with wings on a deep blue background. It said, “Carry on.” From the twitchy corner of his eye, he studied Craze pointedly, on guard for plague probably. “His bride must really be atrocious. Perhaps he seeks escape.”
Craze nodded.
“Well, I didn’t buy the vessel yet,” Talos said. “It may be a real clunker. But we can talk about it later. When I get it. You got a tab on you? I can ping you with where we’ll be on Elstwhere when we know.” He showed Craze his code.
Craze fumbled to get into his pocket and pulled out the slim rectangular tab, tapping a button to send his code to the aviarman’s device. Talos saved it, filing it away in his contacts.
“You fwom Thiegna?” Craze asked.
Talos blinked rapidly, sweeping a hand through his shock of blue. “You asking me where I’m from? I couldn’t make all that out, mate.”
“Yeth.”
“I’m from nowhere really. The aviarmen tried to settle on Doka, but we weren’t welcome. Ended up scattering, everyone out for themselves. Lepsi ‘n I teamed up looking for a new home. Elstwhere isn’t it.”
“Neither is Siegna,” Lepsi said.
Talos tugged down the sleeves of his shirt, the cuffs stained and unraveling. He fingered the pin on his lapel. “Carry on. The ship will help us find one.”
Judging from the clothing, the spacecraft would probably come apart as soon as anybody sneezed. Still, it was an advantage to exploit. If Craze charmed the aviarmen enough, maybe they’d let him tag along. He needed a new home, too, but he didn’t say it. He couldn’t speak about things he hadn’t reconciled in his heart and mind.
Why had his father turned on him? The council obviously bought every line Bast had fed them. That explained them, but not his pa. Craze didn’t think it could all be about one gal. Yerness glowed with dewy beauty, irresistible, but she didn’t inspire traitorous devotion. Did she? Craze shook his head, watching reality in front of him change from a world he knew to one he didn’t.
Siegna, lush and green, zoomed away. Elstwhere loomed ahead. Lusher and greener, dotted with great spans of blue, it was promising, as if a Verkinn could thrive as well there.
There was no knowing for certain, not until he arrived. The speculation drove Craze mad. To ease his nerves and to forget about his ruined past, he mentally arranged bottles of booze by flavor, size, shape, and color. Orange with orange. Round with round. At first he rearranged Bast’s shelves, then he moved onto imaginary shelves in a new bar, the one he dreamed to someday own.
Chapter 5
The landing on Elstwhere went smoothly, just a small bump to mark docking with the berths in the main city. The conductor hurried Craze and the others off the transport, handing each passenger their bags at the exit. In thirty minutes the ship would take off for a more central planet.
Down the gangplank and through large arching doors, the travel port buzzed, thrumming with Backworlders Craze had never seen before—tall, squat, multi-limbed, no-limbed, invisible-skinned—the array made his head tilt. He had to catch himself on the nearest wall, which was chilled from the cold tumbling through the vents. Craze wished he’d taken another two minutes on Siegna with the Croakman to buy a coat.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” Talos said from behind Craze. “Elstwhere is always jumping. Ships coming in ‘n taking off for everywhere. This is one of the best ports to come to when voyaging through the Lepper System, a main link between the inner and outer Backworlds. It’d take ten lifetimes to visit all the planets served by the Lepper. Then fifty more to visit those outside the system.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Craze said.
“Come, I’ll show you.”
They proceeded down the corridor. The walls, floors, and ceiling of the docking station gleamed in gun metal. The aromas of grease and machine were overpowered by the stench of millions, an odor as wretched as the four-armed wench vomiting in the corner. Craze covered his wide nose with a hand, breathing in the reprieve of the ganya tree scent still on his skin.
The chatter of thousands of conversations didn’t drown out the signals of incoming and outgoing vessels. Announcements blared at hurtful levels. To dull the commotion, Craze closed up his ear holes half way.
His adjustments to life off Siegna weren’t through. The lack of thick organics in the air made him lightheaded. The new coveralls helped, but he needed time to acclimate to the garment’s artificially produced organics. They tasted as though something was missing.
Shit. His whole life had suddenly gone missing. He couldn’t lose the aviarmen and the possibility of passage on their ship. They might be his only shot at making a decent new life. Transports would drain his funds faster than the shopkeeper with the very fine wares on Siegna. He needed to plan his next move carefully.
He followed Lepsi and Talos to a wall with a map of the portal system, the Lepper. Massive with thousands of dots highlighted in the Orion arm of the Milky Way, the chart caused Craze’s wide-set eyes to cross. He had no idea where to begin, so he opted to exploit the aviarmen’s greater knowledge. “Where you goin’ next?”
Lepsi’s head bobbed as he thought. “The planets closer to the Foreworlds is very populated. Not many opportunities left for those of us trying to make our way.”
“Unless you have a mountain of chips. Real estate and positions cost a premium,” Talos said.
Craze’s shoulders sagged. “No.”
“Elstwhere sits here on the border of the Edge, which is why it’s such a popular port. The Edge,” Lepsi said, his hand sweeping over the outermost portals, “is our best bet.”
“Cheaper to go there?” Craze asked.
“No. Since there’s not much out there, the risk is higher,” Talos said. “That’s the biggest drawback.”
Craze took his hand away from his nose, adapting to the new smells and fewer organics buoying his equilibrium. “And the smaller drawbacks?”
“Not very hospitable describes a good number of the Backworlds on the Edge,” Lepsi said. “Only a few kinds of Backworlders thrive in the extreme environments.”
Craze didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t want to know, but he had to ask. “Extreme?”
Talos jabbed Lepsi in the ribs with his pointy elbow. The gesture came off like a spasm. “You is only speculating from stories we’ve heard, Lepsi. We don’t really know.”
Craze nodded, trying to take in the name of each port at the edges of the Backworld system. His finger brushed over a definitive and authoritative line at the leftmost boundary.
“Dividing line between the Backworlds ‘n the Foreworlds,” Talos said. “You don’t want to go there, mate. Certain death.”
“Certain?” Craze asked.
“The Fo’wo’s claim we have no right to live. Kill us on sight.”
“A truce has been called,” Craze said.
“They don’t care.”
“Hmmph.” Craze didn’t give much credence to all the noise about the Foreworlders. They were just bogey stories to
keep the division between the territories, so Craze believed. He knew the history.
In the voids between the worlds, the Foreworlds and Backworlds warred. Before all was lost for good, the Foreworlds declared a truce and named themselves the victors. The plans for their new fleet had leaked out, revealing the Backworlders had no chance. So the Backworlds accepted the treaty and the fact they had lost, scattering on the remaining Backworlds the Foreworlders hadn’t seized. Making do. Adapting. Regrouping.
Craze traced the line, curious about where all Backworlders originated from, but he wasn’t brave enough to face down the rumors. He’d leave that to somebody else.
Talos held out a hand. “Well, we off, mate. Carry on.” He tugged at the lapel with the pin to emphasize the catch phrase.
Craze didn’t want them to go, didn’t want to be cut loose to flounder for the second time today. “What’s that mean? The pin?”
The aviarmen stopped and faced Craze as if to shoo him away, but ended up staying put. Shifting their weight, wetting their lips, the hurry they’d been in dissipated.
“My mom gave it to me before she died. Complications from the war.” Talos’s lower lip quivered.
Talos didn’t seem much older than Craze. Maybe aviar women were fertile well into life. “She was a veteran?” Craze asked.
Talos plucked the prized button off of his lapel, stroking its edges, caressing the words. “No, she lived on a borderworld as a child. The Fo’wo’s let loose some plague. Made her weak the rest of her life. Not in mind though.”
“Of course not.” Complimenting the mother was obviously a way for Craze to charm his way into the aviarman’s esteem. It was a lesson from his father Craze had often used. It stated that in order to get what’s wanted, tell folks what they want to hear. Most of Bast’s teachings wouldn’t hurt Craze’s prospects, but he wouldn’t give the man any credit.
Craze wanted the aviarmen to see him as a friend before they separated. Otherwise, he had no one and nothing. He couldn’t stand the thought.
He wasn’t above a little lying to manipulate the aviarmen’s feelings. “I’m sorry to hear that.” An untruth, because he had a hard time relating to affection for a parent at the moment.
“She was a great trader. As great as the members of the central guild until the recurring sickness forced her to give it up. I was still too young to be of use to her ‘n the business. She gave me this ‘n made me promise I’d get the trade route back, or a better one, when I was old enough.” He held up the button. “Carry on.”
“She sounds like quite a lady. What world were—”
“I’ve got to go see that ship, mate. For her. For the promise.” Talos jammed the pin into his coat pocket, clutching it as if the fate of the universe depended on it. “When I get my trade route, I’ll name the business for her.” He turned to go, inching away.
Craze followed. “Nice. Won’t be long once you get that ship. Then Lepsi can tell his brother to eat it, right? And, who else in your family?” He hoped that would stop them again.
Talos put a hand over Lepsi’s mouth. “Condensed version: Lepsi’s father favors his brother, Federoy. Federoy is an arrogant prick who can’t put his shoes on right unless Daddy tells him. Go explore Elstwhere. We’ll see you later.”
They dove into the current of souls traipsing the crowded corridors, drifting away, disappearing among the throng of colorful Backworlders. Shit.
For a moment, Craze had an overwhelming urge to run after them. His mind reeled, unsettled, unmoored. He forced deep, even breaths while the coveralls squeezed his chest.
“Don’t lose it now, jeez,” he whispered. “A long way to go until this all resolves itself. Damn you, Bast.”
Leaning against the wall, he soothed his nerves by picturing shelves and bottles in his mind, setting the containers of alcohol in a pleasing, precise order. His heart slowed and so did his pulse.
“It’ll be all right. Will go find a coat ‘n see what Elstwhere has to offer. Maybe I don’t have to travel any farther than this.” Right. He’d used his smarts to maneuver situations in his favor plenty of times on Siegna. There was no reason those same techniques shouldn’t work on Elstwhere. All he had to do was find the right person. “Simple.” Fortified, he left the wall, heading for the streets.
Verkinn elders dotted the station. Craze didn’t detect any prodders, but he ducked out of sight among the crowd. He’d not settle on Elstwhere and put up with his dastard kin. Nope. He’d use his talents to get on the aviarmen’s vessel and to make more chips, so he could leave Siegna and Elstwhere far behind.
Chapter 6
Craze fought his way through the constant stream of people down to ground level and out into the streets of Elstwhere. He sought vulnerability in others to take advantage of, enumerating all of his past successes in increasing revenue for Bast’s tavern. He knew he had what it took to make something happen. And he would. Dammitall.
He could see no end to the city. Its buildings spiraled to giddy heights, blocking out the world, most of the sky, and natural light. Many of the edifices rose to match the stature of the docking facility, sprawling in curling shapes, like a bizarre forest of giant dancers frozen in mid leaps and twirls.
He listened to unfamiliar languages, heard the squawk of traffic, and the shrill signals directing it. Doors slammed. People shouted and laughed. They pushed past him, rushing, kicking up the air that was dryer and more sour than Siegna’s. He didn’t taste as many nutrients in it. The coveralls were slow to compensate. His heart pumped harder, his blood flowed faster. His steps faltered.
People swore at him, shouting, “Dumbass.” A couple of hard shoves sent him into traffic. Horns blared, treads churned toward him.
A hand pulled him back to the walkway. “You should be more careful.”
The person stood slender and graceful, matching the architecture of the city, reminding Craze of new shoots on a ganya tree. He couldn’t tell whether his rescuer was a he or a she, having purple-tinted skin and long dark waves framing a pair of flirty neon green eyes. As Craze watched, the Backworlder sprouted breasts which grew into an ample bosom. He had heard about bi-gendered folks, people who could change sexes, but he’d never seen it before.
A vine tattoo ran along her jaw line and down her throat. She took inventory of Craze, pausing on his new, shiny boots. Her enormous irises dilated, growing darker, and she licked her lips.
She saw Craze as prey. He could smell the predator on her. He also detected the possibility of profit. His pulse quickened at the thought of this game. The best thing was to let her label him as weak. He could use her underestimation of him against her, a vulnerability to exploit in the interests of business, the business of his own survival.
“Th-thanks,” he said. “I appreciate you helpin’ me out. This is my first travel away from home ‘n I find this big city a bit of an overload.”
Her face sparkled with his words. Craze could almost see her calculating what she could get off of him. The purple thing sniffed him. “I don’t know your kind.”
He didn’t know hers either. The silver lamé of her romper stretched extra tight over all of her curves. She was dressed for distraction, and Craze could tell she was used to winning the way she didn’t balk at meeting his eye. Well-traveled boots covered her calves up to her knees. He noted a weapon slid into the left one, then a blade resting on the inside of her thigh, just a quick flash.
“I’m Verkinn,” he said, pointing at the Elstwhere sky. “From Siegna.”
“Oh. Haven’t been there yet. The Croakmen I met at the port threatened to eat me if I headed to Siegna.” She cackled, a sound that matched the weaponry bulging from her coat pockets.
Predator indeed. Craze needed to find out more about her. “Where you from?”
“I’m a Jix from Jix.” She said it as if Craze should know.
Craze nodded. He wanted to come off as naive, not a moron. “Wasn’t sure if all your kind stayed together.”
“We do. Al
ways.” Her arm moved like a ganya vine in the evening breeze, snaking around Craze’s shoulders. “You need a guide. Elstwhere can be a nest of bothers.”
He pressed himself against her side. “I’d appreciate you showing me around.” Maybe she wasn’t the arrow to his new life, but Craze felt certain she’d point him at something that could get him what he needed.
She steered him down the avenues into a littered alley and into a seedy tavern. Smelling curdled and bitter, tasting of it too, the place didn’t hint at any sense of ease when Craze walked inside.
Chapter 7
Craze’s feet stuck to the floor. With each step, he had to force himself free. Shit. He didn’t want to ruin his new boots.
Murky lights, some no longer working, were set into the floor at irregular intervals, illuminating only black. Black rectangular tables and black chairs, the composite chipped and splintering. Black walls and floors. The tables had just enough space between them to squish by. Craze squeezed between four sets. Three more sat between him and the bar, making him feel caged and trapped. The Jix proved wily. He’d have to stay alert.
The patrons favored black, too—hats, shirts, pants, belts, scarves, coats, and footwear. Craze tugged at his bright red suspenders, very conscious of them, his crisp white shirt and honey-colored coveralls. At least his boots blended in. He clutched his tan duffel tight against his chest, following the Jix deeper into the lair. All the folks they passed leered at him as if he would sweat loot to be divvied up. The group was more odious than Bast’s ambitions, and Craze knew the Jix aimed to intimidate him. If he didn’t agree to what she wanted from him, he knew this crew would be used to get him to change his mind.
She waved at an empty table beside the bar. “Have a seat. I’ll get us some ale.”
Her hospitality, Craze knew, was to sweeten him toward her, to lure him into whatever trap she cast. He understood this manipulation. He’d executed it for Bast often. For now he’d play along, let her think she maneuvered him toward her goals.
