by Lindsay Peet
CHAPTER NINE
Wanliet could barely wait to get untied next morning, and I was pretty eager myself. Nothing rouses the body so much as restraints; it’s like trying not to think of a smeerp. If Aspe hadn’t been determined to get an early start we both might have popped.
As it was I had not slept well. I guess that I give off the air of a man who easily fits in anywhere, copes with any difficulty, and emerges whole, if not triumphant. What doesn’t show is the time spent playing out various strategies and tactics in my head, as involved as any admiral, but in wars where there are generally no rules. If I could categorize and label all the tricks and subterfuges I’ve used, the wiles and guiles I’ve tried, why it would make quite a tale. In fact, maybe it has and this is it; you be the judge.
So that’s how I’d spent my hours before drifting off, bound up and pondering. When finally I did drop off my mind was still playing everything out, at least that’s how I account for some very strange, and terrifying, dreams where Aspe had some horrible revenges on me. The dreams would start out nice enough, we’d both get undressed, and then suddenly she’d sprout teeth, at the worst of times and in the weirdest of places! And then she’d smile, open her mouth screech, “Smeerp!” I’ll tell you, it left a lasting impression on me. Took me the longest time – well, a few days – until I could think about making love with a woman again.
When I jolted awake I smelled my own fear, rank and stale, my subconscious having convinced me that I was facing certain death, or worse. Contemplating the ‘or worse’ had thrown me into quite a blue mood, and made me over-sensitive to any hints of pain, or even discomfort. Not manly, I admit, but when you vividly dream of being rendered un-manly by tooth it changes your priorities radically. Besides, my bladder was fit to blow and my feet still hurt some from Zeno’s efforts.
Wanliet, of course, was oblivious of my terrors, and seemed to bob and float along in his own uncanny world. After a quick meal – more tea! – we were away. The day promised to be hot, but its start was chilly, especially on the bench of the speeder, where the wind cut at us and the heater was only a rumor.
Northeast we headed, toward the coast, floating over misty forests and then a foggy coast. I wasn’t sure when we passed first over waves and surf, only that around mid-morning I could see whitecaps below through tears in the fog. From the sun I judged we were heading due north then, and from what I remembered of the Caliugan topography I figured we’d be over land again very soon, first a peninsula and then sweeping up on our plateau and pass not too long after.
Sitting and fretting on the chilly afterparts of the speeder I stewed in resentment. It seemed like I’d been on alert pretty much since I’d first crossed paths with the PU, always worried that one slip would spell catastrophe. I was getting weary of the whole thing, and bitter, and that mix never brings out the moderate, kinder and gentler parts of my character.
I decided I wanted the nonsense to stop. I didn’t know just how I’d do it, but I was going to do it or die, no torture for me today, thankyouverymuch.
Thus emboldened I directed Aspe straight to the ship, over the pass and to the plateau. There my little craft rested, a little scorched from Basoolah’s blasts, but still sound, still as sweet-handling a smuggler as you’d find.
Aspe and Sirah were both awe-struck. Here was more technology than they’d seen in their whole lives, and possibly also they saw the way off of Caliuga, which any ambitious and attractive young woman would crave. And neither of them had a clue about how the ship worked, her capabilities, much less her quirks, her temperament. Until that moment I’d not understood just how ignorant our captors were. Their ignorance would be my bliss.
“Aspe, would you like to accompany me inside while I check things out? Get what you want?” She wavered, considering her options. None appealed. Sirah said, “I can go in with Jaf, and you stay with the speeder and Wanliet.” I liked that, because I thought I’d detected that Sirah had been softening the night before. Give me a little alone-time with her and it would be three-to-one against Aspe.
However, ultimately we all went in. As I expected, the magic of an intergalactic ship vaporized when they came in, because inside it looks a lot like an enclosed speeder, with a few extra levers and such, but nothing you might think is ‘out-of-this-world,’ whatever world you grew up on.
First thing I fired up the display to find out if the puzzle of our whereabouts had been solved. It had. After two weeks the ship had stopped trying to contact us, so just about when we could have gotten a clear signal from the ship, she’d stopped sending. This was one of the reasons I called the ship a ‘she;’ contrariness. The fact it was logical and predictable didn’t make it any more palatable.
So now we knew where we were. This meant we knew how to get home, or anywhere else we wanted to go to. Wanliet and I looked at each other, and our captors. This changed everything. Since we knew where we were, we knew how to leave, how to get to a place we really wanted to be. Here we were, two men, two women, and we could leave Caliuga right then, and never return, unless we wanted to. I could see I didn’t need to explain this to the women.
We all took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then sat down. Wanliet and I didn’t completely relax; Aspe still kept the gun on me, while Sirah came over and studied the star map and the co-ordinates.
