Showdown on the Planet of the Slavers

by Helena Puumala

  “I won’t want to hire on as an operative, though,” Shyla said, wrinkling her nose.

  “There will be many other options.” Mikal’s grin was back. “Including falling in love with some adoring man.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Llon sat in a half-lit corner of the office Cassi was using for interviewing the chattels whom Gorsh had sent to Strone to serve the Councillors who had agreed to take bribes. He was listening, and taking mental notes. He and Cassi had decided to keep him as unobtrusive as possible, and out of the process, although he had contributed to the list of questions that Cassi had made to ask the interviewees.

  At the moment, Cassi was talking to a young lad who had said that his name was Nic, and that he thought that he had been sent to Strone because he had not wanted to look after some half-dead bodies that Gorsh had been storing in a cellar room in a building called The Citadel. He listened as Cassi, alert to something unusual, deviated from her planned questions.

  “Half-dead bodies?” she asked the boy.

  “Yeah. Creatures, people of sorts, comatose,” Nic answered. “Not my idea of fun, looking after those who can’t look after themselves. I guess I’d make a lousy medic. Though Gorsh had machines, life-support systems, doing most of the work of keeping these folks alive—but, still.”

  “How many of these did he keep there?” Cassi queried.

  “There were three when I left. One had been there the longest. Well, he wasn’t there all the time, I was told; Gorsh used to take him, and the funny-looking boy—this boy was quite alive—who always accompanied him, on his slave-snatching trips. That’s what the other chattels said, the ones who had been there a long time, instead of having been sold off-world. There were a few of those, you see. This half-dead man, the first one, was a really funny looking one, and the gossip around the compound was that he was some kind of a lizard, and that he was doing Gorsh’s navigating for him—don’t ask me how that was possible since, as far as I could tell, the guy was not doing anything.”

  “And the other two?”

  “A man and a woman. They came later, off a ship that Gorsh waited for pretty anxiously, as I remember it. The woman was another lizard person, and the man, I heard someone say, was ‘the Federation Agent’, whatever that was. Someone said that Gorsh had a real hate on for the Agent, and he was really pleased to see his form when he was brought in—I was there to see it. They said that the Boss was out to break down the Agent’s mental resistance to spilling secrets, and then wring his brain dry, before killing him. They gossiped that this man had stolen the woman Gorsh wanted, and he was pissed off. Made no sense to me; Gorsh was married to Milla, and kept that little red-haired whore, Jaqui, on the side. Some men think that they can have whole harems to themselves; where I come from that’s considered ridiculous. If a man can handle one woman, that’s plenty.”

  An interesting view of male-female relationships, thought Llon. Probably not conducive to good relationships between the sexes; he could tell from the look on Cassi’s face as her eyes darted in his direction, that she shared his opinion. She refrained from commenting, however; the smart woman that she was.

  Nic’s information was basically confirming what Llon had already found out through the Planetary Spirit communication network which he had established. The boy was talkative, but had not been privy to any information that the Team members were really hankering after. That was not surprising, of course; Llon would have been shocked at Gorsh’s laxness, had he allowed any really important information to be gossiped about by the chattels. Still, what Cassi was doing was worth the time spent, Llon judged; there might be a tidbit or two that came out of it that they didn’t yet have. Plus, this way the Councillors who were making deals with Gorsh were aware of the fact that the new Government was interested in the Slaver’s doings, and might stop to reconsider whether or not they wanted to do business with him.

  Mostly, Llon knew, he was just killing time. He was involved in the interviews because someone in the Team needed to show interest in them, and he was available. Besides, his role could not be a very active one; he was “a Guide”, “a Watcher”, and not intended to be an active participant in the events as they unfolded. He was to provide direction for other people’s doings, not necessarily even participate in them, unless such participation was unavoidable in order to avoid disaster. And he had a good Team around him; they were the best, as far as he was concerned. Wayward was a fortunate planet indeed, considering the roads down which one of its native sons had chosen to travel. There was a good chance that full-scale violence might be avoided, with Kati and Mikal on the job.

  Llon had the feeling that events were unfolding, if not in Strone, then in other places on Wayward. Salamanka, quite likely, since Mikal and Xoraya were there, and so were Lank and Chrysalia. What Kati and Max might be discovering on the Continent Sud, would also be important. He was chafing at the limitations of being human; he was, for the time being limited to the room that he was in, and could only find out about what was going on in Salamanka through his connections with the Planetary Spirits and the Wise Woman Seleni, who was the Spirits’ servant. He could have contacted Kati directly, thanks to her talents, but did not want to do so, since the two of them had no emotional connection the way she and Mikal did. Connecting with Kati ought to be Mikal’s prerogative, unless for some serious reason Kati wanted to contact the Watcher, or, for her own safety it was necessary that he do so.

  He smiled to himself to think of the last person of the Team, Ciela, playing the young capitalist with Sammas’ help at the Lordz mansion. People had been coming to see about buying the lace crystal shards; a couple of potential customers had arrived that very morning, before Llon had left for Karn’s offices. The well-heeled, middle-aged men had been shocked to find out that they were expected to deal with a young girl who was being shepherded by the household’s Head Housekeeper. One of them had tried to hail Llon on his way out to meet Cassi; Llon had told him that Ciela was the one Captain Katerina had trusted with the selling of the shards. He himself had been assigned other duties, and was going off to fulfill them. Sammas was grinning wickedly at the two men; he had already discovered that the Tarangayan girl was a whiz with numbers, and if anyone tried to cheat her she would be aware of it before Sammas himself had caught on. Llon had the impression that Ciela and the Head Housekeeper were becoming fast friends in spite of their age and sex differences; there were things that they both absolutely agreed on. One of those was that it was necessary to get fair value for what they were selling; with some amusement Llon thought that Kati would have rolled her eyes at their insistence on that. She could be a little lackadaisical about finances if small change was not an issue. Not that Llon thought that this was a negative trait; it was part of Kati’s ability to act without allowing insignificant factors play into the decisions she made. But Ciela probably would have been disturbed by it; like Sammas, she wanted the profits to go where they fairly belonged. Which, of course, was among the reasons why she had got the job that she had right now; she could be trusted to look after The Spacebird Two’s finances.

  He better pay heed to what Cassi was asking the boy. As a member of Kati and Mikal’s Team, he ought to be doing his job.

  *****

  Judd Gorsh dragged himself out of bed, glancing at the time-piece on the wall. Damn, he had fallen asleep again after consoling the inconsolable girl once more in the morning. Even noded, he was beginning to be a little old for this much sex in such a short time; it was already past noon, and the girl was in his kitchenette, banging pots—probably making tea, and maybe some nut-porridge, too, if he was lucky. She must be just as hungry as he was.

  His communications console was lit up like the night sky in the centre of the galaxy, he noted wryly, and stepped over to it to find out who had been trying to get hold of him. To his surprise the calls were all from one source—Suderie, of all places.

  “The carpet man,” he muttered to himself. “What the hell? I don’t have
any more boys for him, and he’s getting those ones dirt cheap, too.”

  Nevertheless, he pressed the button to make a voice connection; he wasn’t going to display his naked form to the man.

  “What’s up Yaroli?” he asked. “Why have you been trying to get hold of me? You know I don’t have any more knotters for you.”

  “We’ll make do with what we have,” came the crisp answer. “But you, and we, perhaps, may have a problem on our hands—unless you can handle it, of course. My Chief of Operations of the Handcraft Sector, Tarig, tells me that yesterday a noble from the Nord, who gave his name as Max Lordz was spying here on our premises, with a woman who said she was a Free Trader, Captain Katerina, looking for an exquisite piece of carpeting for an old and valued customer. Now, I’ve never heard of a Free Trader buying carpets, no matter how exquisite. They asked for a tour of the facility on the pretext of making sure that our hand-knotteds, really are hand-knotted.”

  The man on the communicator stopped to draw a breath.

  “Go on,” said Gorsh, excitement rising in the pit of his belly.

  “She recognized one of the boys,” Yaroli said. “And spoke to him in his own language. Tarig tells me that the boy was about as wild as those boys ever get, to see her, and she got all teary while she was hugging him. Tarig sent Lordz and her away, of course, furious because they had disturbed his operations after promising to do no such thing, and came and talked to me about it at his earliest opportunity, which was this morning.”

  It had to be Kati! Captain Katerina! She had been calling herself Lady Katerina on Makros III, the fool! Couldn’t come up with a different name, could she? Not that it would have made any difference to him; he would have guessed who she was, anyway!

  However, he had to make sure.

  “What did your Tarig say that she looked like? This Captain Katerina?”

  “A slim, light-skinned, dark-haired woman, is how he described her. Hair pulled back and braided, casually dressed. Could have been a Free Trader, though a young one; he said that she wasn’t beautiful, but very attractive in a lively sort of a way.”

  “Yes; I know who she is,” Gorsh said, rubbing his hands together. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

  He cut the connection, and noted that he was not quite so old after all. His sex organ had swollen to a usable size just hearing, talking and thinking about Kati. Oh, he was going to enjoy impregnating that woman!

  Jaqui came in to tell that there was tea and porridge on the dining table. She saw his state of excitement, and a look of distaste crossed her face, and was quickly erased. Gorsh reached for his clothes. So Jaqui had been consoled enough; well, she was probably a little bit sore by now, and could use a rest—which might well become a long one. Who could he send Jaqui to, once he had Kati in his hands, and no longer needed the red-head? Would Koruse accept her as a substitute for the drowned Shyla?

  He had to send three or four of the new, really fast flyers, complete with relief pilots, to the southern coast to wait for the arrival of the Lordz flyer which would be a lumbering old beast. Surely Max Lordz had squired Captain Katerina to the Continent Sud in a flyer!

  Gorsh thought to send Morg to lead that mission—one of the flyers had to be murk-protected—he was properly trigger-happy, but obedient to the orders that he had been given. He’d bring Kati back safely, cocooned in the murk, and as for Max Lordz, Gorsh did not want him killed—that could cause trouble—but if the man ended up stranded on a rocky coast, who cared?

  *****

  By the time the Slaver had used his contacts to determine that Max Lordz and Kati were, in fact, returning to Strone in Max’s flyer, it was late afternoon, and they were approaching the Continent Nord’s coast. The Lordz flyer with its distinctive colours and crest was easy to identify, and Morg was thinking that the Boss had been brilliant to send him there in advance, with a squad of four fine, armed flyers.

  “Fellow pilots,” he spoke into the com which connected Gorsh’s vehicles, “let’s give these fools in the clumsy machine a warning of our serious intentions! Soon as we’re in range, each one of us sends a blast of laser fire across the front of that flyer!”

  “Sounds okay!” responded his next in command. “Fun and games!”

  The other two signalled their assent, and they all began the swoop towards the Lordz vehicle as it flew over the rock-strewn coastal waters.

  “What in the heaven’s name are those flyers up to?” Max asked as they approached. “They’re coming straight at us! Who the hell...?”

  He tried to pull his vehicle into an evasive manoeuvre, and found himself suddenly confronted with laser fire in front of his eyes, bright enough to blind him temporarily.

  “Gimme your body, woman!” The Monk screeched inside Kati’s head, as the flyer began to plummet downwards.

  Kati complied, and the Granda grabbed the controls while Max used his hands to shade his tearing eyes. The Monk righted the flyer while the other vehicles surrounded it.

  “We’ll have to concede this battle,” he subvocalized, clearly frustrated. “We’re out-flyered, out-manned, and out-gunned. Let’s hope they’re not out to turn us into fish food.”

  “Sieur Max Lordz, set down your flyer on the rocky shore in front of you,” an insolent voice on the emergency communicator said. “Otherwise we’ll shoot you down. We have no quarrel with you, Sieur, but we want your passenger, one Kati of Terra, passing as Captain Katerina, a Free Trader.”

  The speaker let out a triumphant laugh.

  “It’s Morg, whose hands we bloodied, and then healed on Qupar!” The Monk snarled. “I recognize the laugh! That means Gorsh! Tarig must have tattled!”

  “Do it, Max,” Kati said, taking back her body, and ceding the flyer controls to the Waywardian who had recovered, at least partially. “This is Gorsh’s doing. I’ll go peacefully. Get word of this to Llon at the earliest opportunity. I’ll try to mentally reach him before we go down; I’m sure that they have their damping murk working on the flyer in which they’ll stow me.”

  Could she reach Mikal, she wondered, as she listened to Max tell Morg that he would do as requested, but under protest. Mikal had said, some hours ago, that he would be busy. Would he be able to take a psychic communication from her, or did he need all his attention on whatever he was doing?

  Llon was a better bet to be available; she would contact him first. And whether or not she got hold of Mikal, she would face this new captivity with her head held high. Gorsh was not going to see her grovel.

  *****

  After they finished talking with the chattels, Cassi and Karn took Llon to their favourite restaurant for an early supper, and to discuss how valuable the information that they had obtained, was. The eating establishment was quiet at that hour, the staff obviously knew and liked the Gurts, and the food was excellent. Llon had begun to enjoy himself, even if he was of the opinion that not much useful information had come from the interviews. Cassi and Karn were good hosts, and good conversationalists, and bright enough to recognize that the queries they were making could not be expected to produce much. But, as Karn put it, it was necessary to go through the exercise, because they did not want to miss something that might just fall out when you shake out an almost empty bag.

  “I have higher hopes for that trip your companions are making to Salamanka,” Karn said. “I was asking Marna Naez why it was that we didn’t really know much at all about what Gorsh is up to, or what sort of equipment, and manpower he has access to, and she just laughed. We don’t know anything about the doings of our citizens, she said. According to her, I ought to have realized that, having been a participant in the old Council of the Families. Possibly she’s right about that, but I guess the doings of the Old Families were such common knowledge, and to that council no-one else mattered, that we took a lot for granted.”

  “And Gorsh mostly operated outside the Council’s jurisdiction in those days,” Cassi added. “The rich commoners simply did whatever they felt like, r
eferring to the Council of the Families only when they needed to make use of some rubber stamp approval, or another. And then they used bribes to get what they wanted.”

  The conversation had turned to the Gurts hopes for the new Government and the Great Council by the time the dessert of local fruit marinated in a sweet wine was served. Llon was just about to dig out another tasty morsel from his bowl, when suddenly he was aware of Kati’s mental presence, a presence filled with urgency. He immediately set his spoon back in the bowl and excused himself to his hosts, sitting back in his dining chair with eyes closed. Cassi and Karn stared at him curiously, and with slight apprehension.

  “Llon, please, get word out. Gorsh is just about to nab me. I don’t know how long I’ve got before I’m muzzled. Not much. Mikal’s free, by the way, but he didn’t have time to talk, and I don’t know if I can get hold of him now.”

  “I’ll get to him, somehow, Kati, count on that.” Llon knew that he could promise that much. “Where are you? What’s happened?”

  “A child slave recognized me. Max will give you the details. Our flyer was surrounded over the water; we’re to land on the Nord shore. They promised to let Max go if I came quietly, so I agreed, of course, and will keep to that. I trust that Gorsh won’t dare go back on his word to a Member of the Great Council, and he only wants me, as we know.”

  “I’ll get the Planetary Spirits to look in on Max, to see if he’s going to need help. And we’ll get you out of Gorsh’s hands at the earliest opportunity.”

  “He’s not going to kill me Llon, so don’t let Mikal fall apart. Rape, yes, but he won’t kill me. Maybe he’s not even on the flyer that’s picking me up—if I’m lucky.”

  “I’ll talk sense to Mikal if he starts losing it. So will Seleni, and Chrysalia. Hang in there.”

  “Will do my best. Have to go. We’re down on the ground.”

  Llon opened his eyes, half-surprised to see Cassi and Karn watching him even as they ate their dessert. They had only managed a spoonful or two each, since he had settled into the communication. Had more than a minute passed?