Alice Unbound
Page 12
“I’m sure it will. Denying your true nature only leads to misery.”
“But what if they remember the wig and laugh at me?”
“Then move on to the next person. You deserve to be with someone who loves you for your true self.”
Someone like Rachel who withstood my tongue-tied jumble of excuses, just because I’d had my heart broken before.
He nodded. “You’re right. I do. I want a love like yours, Alice.”
Once bitten, twice shy. It seemed so logical before. Now I saw it for the flimsy excuse it really was.
He followed me to the small washroom. I closed the door.
The gilt-framed mirror filled the wall from countertop to ceiling. I placed my hand on the glass, and it softened like gauze and began to melt away.
“If we’re through with denying our true natures, there’s something you should know,” he said. “I’m not exactly what you think I am.”
“Oh?” I’d already had a hunch – after all, he was from Wonderland.
Something made me turn away from the silvery pool.
“That is, I’m not a man.” His words were sharp, striking the tile walls and floor.
He began to unravel the rags. As the layers came off, he revealed spindly limbs of black, and wide yellow bands across his hourglass abdomen. Large, round multi-lensed eyes shone back at me. A set of jagged pinchers jutted from where a mouth should have been.
“You’re – You’re a bee?” I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it. Of course, I’d run into the giant insects in Wonderland – who hadn’t – but I would never have expected one to survive on this side.
Suddenly being trapped in a tiny room with one seemed like a bad idea. A chill settled down my spine.
“Actually, I’m a wasp,” he said. His sabulous voice fizzled out words faster and faster. “There is a difference. This is the waistline that inspires women to draw tighter their corset strings. Bees do not have such elegant lines. Unless you consider bullets elegant.”
At the moment, I was seriously considering reaching for the vorpal blade in my boot, as the wasp seemed to be working itself into a frenzy.
Every cell in my body stood at attention, hyper-aware of the sharp stinger protruding from its rear end. A glossy drop of venom shimmered, balanced, waiting on the long blade, surely enough to kill a human – stop the heart, at least.
“That’s – That’s quite the stinger you have there, sir,” I said, stalling for time.
“Ah, yes,” it hissed. “There’s something else you should know. Only the females of our species can sting.”
I swallowed. “But you’re not going to sting me, are you? We— We shared a meal. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“After that lovely speech about deserving to be happy with someone who loves me for my true self?” She made a sucking sound. I wondered if she considered that laughter. I shuddered.
She turned toward the mirror and said over her shoulder, “I can no longer deny my true nature.”
I spun, reaching for my blade, too slow, too late. The wasp struck me with her stinger, then lunged and jumped through the looking glass. The room filled with a burst of bright silvery mist and then settled.
My right hip flashed blindingly hot. I fell against the wall, and slid to the floor as lightning pain travelled down my legs. Had the stinger pierced my jumpsuit? Or did the suit do its job? My hands went to the wound and came away soaked in venom. Did that mean… Did that mean the stinger didn’t go in all the way?
I fumbled for the ring in my hip pocket. It was bent now, having taken the brunt of the stinger’s blow. Saved by my love. She would be so pleased if she knew.
Rachel.
Damn. The wasp was right. A question needed to be asked…
I glanced at the time. I wasn’t too late.
This wasn’t the best time or the best place, but I finally had the words.
I pressed a button on my communicator and dialled home.
FULL HOUSE
Geoff Gander and Fiona Plunkett
“The Snark’s done worse,” said Risus, her long tail flicking. “She’s outrun pirates, dodged asteroids—”
“And without drive coolant we can’t go anywhere,” said Et’Eruca. It dimmed the engineering console with one upper limb while two others punched buttons to re-route power. “We’re stranded on this planet until we can replenish.” It stretched to its fullsome height of just over two metres, ten pairs of feet keeping it securely on the floor, and glared at Alis.
Alis, leaning in the doorway of the ship’s cramped bridge, calmly met Et’Eruca’s glare. “The next time pirates shoot us up and destroy our fire control systems, I’ll let the cargo burn.” She had made a split-second decision to cut the coolant hose and extinguish the flames. The attack had also knocked out the comms.
Et’Eruca turned to Risus. “I advised you against hiring her, Captain. Humans are as untrustworthy as they are belligerent. The Imperium taught us that.”
Risus held a hand up, halting Alis. “Alis was just a child when the war ended, and humans have short memories. She did save the cargo.” She grinned toothily.
The Chys resembled Earth’s felines in behaviour. It had taken Alis a while to learn that the Chys grin was similar to a human shrug.
“You said there might be something here we could use as a replacement?” Risus asked. Her translucent fur pulsed and shimmered.
Et’Eruca’s antennae twitched in annoyance. Like the insects they resembled, P’lar lacked facial muscles, making them difficult to read. “The swamps of Borogove produce gases that could be condensed into a substitute, if my sensors’ readings are accurate.”
“I hope so,” said Alis. “There’s little info on this place, or the system. Who named it, anyway?”
Risus grinned again. “As long as we can drop a few claim beacons out here, I don’t care what this place is called.”
Alis nodded. Weeks spent in close quarters bred familiarity. Risus said little about her life before commanding the Snark, but Alis knew that family was why she traded among the Free Alliance fringe worlds. The highly matriarchal Chys society was also very mercantile. Risus would never be free from her mother’s control or expectations until she could buy her independence. Alis supposed that was why Risus took her on – she had been able to buy a share in the venture, rather than be an employee. Unhappy to see her gamble her life savings, her parents would have been even unhappier if she spent more time in jail for protesting the ranching conglomerates’ treatment of livestock on Bellman’s World.
“Where is this gas, Et’Eruca?” asked Risus.
“You lot, always rushing,” said Et’Eruca. The P’lar took a long drag from a metal pipe that emitted wisps of faint green mist. It let out a long, contented sigh. “Must be the thin air you all breathe.”
Risus moved toward the hatch. “Not all of us have the luxury of living for centuries.”
Et’Eruca took another drag, then placed the pipe in a silvery metal box strapped to its chest. “There’s a source about two clicks from here.”
“Lead the way. We’ll suit up,” said Risus.
The Snark’s airlock hissed, then clanked open. A wall of humidity oozed into the chamber and plastered Alis’s clothing to her body while sweat beaded her forehead. Borogrove rode the inner edge of the habitable zone of its red dwarf sun. Its slow rotation allowed thick cloud cover formation that protected the surface from the worst radiation while trapping enough heat to create a hothouse.
Et’Eruca led the way down the gangplank onto a field of spongy red moss, inhaling loudly. “It is most satisfying to be able to breathe freely.”
“Maybe Borogove hasn’t been charted for a reason,” said Alis. She checked her respirator filtering the stagnant air. Green lights. All good.
Et’Eruca pointed with two hands to a spot beyond a rise to their left. “The concentration of gases should be over there,” it said, as though Alis hadn’t spoken. “We should be able to harvest them with
the condenser.”
Tubular, dark yellow growths topped with white tufts crowded around the Snark and towered above them. A far cry from the open, grassy plains of home. Alis doubted the docile toves on her family’s ranch would enjoy grazing on the squishy moss, although the white fluffy creatures bounding in front of them seemed to enjoy it. She hefted the shiny, barrel-shaped condenser and stomped uphill after the others.
The Terran Imperium had dominated this sector of the galaxy for decades and placed the P’lar, who had resisted, under occupation. Her family never protested when Bellman’s World was ceded to the Free Alliance, nor did they resist when half of their land was given to demobilized Alliance soldiers for settlement. They just wanted to live in peace. Yet Et’Eruca thinks I’m just like the people who bombed its home world. Maybe I should take my chances on another ship once this is done, share be damned.
The barrel of a rifle greeted her when she crested the rise. The burly figure wearing a climate-controlled jumpsuit waved her forward. Risus and Et’Eruca stood at the bottom, bracketed by two more people. Alis’s legs twitched. She had been a champion runner, and Borogove’s lower gravity might give her an edge, but she doubted she could outrun a bullet. She handed over the condenser and strode down the hill, hands raised.
“Are there any more of you?” asked a woman at Risus’s elbow, her voice harsh and tinny through her mask’s speaker.
“Just us, collecting supplies,” said Risus. “We’ll be on our way if you let us.”
“Don’t think so,” said the man next to Alis in a deep, rumbling voice. “You’re coming with us.”
“What about my ship?” asked Risus. Her whiskers flattened against her cheeks.
The man gestured with his rifle.
Two others that looked like twins joined them. They shook their heads when the man looked at them. “No one else. Well, that part of your story checks out,” he said. “Keep moving. We’ve only got a week of daylight left.” He chuckled at his own joke.
The trek took them into steeper hills free of the stalks, but still blanketed with spongy moss. Alis sank up to her ankles as she plodded forward. The soupy air enveloped and constricted her, but she was grateful for her respirator. Risus marched in silence, staring at the ground, while Et’Eruca crawled as fast as its many legs could carry it. It seemed to have far less trouble negotiating the squishy turf. Their escorts wore overshoes with flared, wire-frame soles, allowing them to walk without sinking.
The hilly country gave way to a broad, empty plain that reminded Alis of home – if she didn’t need a respirator and wasn’t sweating to death. A long metal structure loomed ahead, resembling the pre-fab hangars and warehouses in the smaller communities on Bellman’s World, except that this one was shiny and dust-free. Their escorts nodded at a pair of guards standing by the door, and nudged them inside. She blinked in the harsh interior lighting and shivered at the sudden climate-controlled chill. Before she had her bearings, they were ushered through an anteroom and down one of several gleaming corridors. She counted a left turn and then two rights before they were deposited in a small, square room devoid of furnishings.
“I don’t suppose your sensors happened to detect this facility,” said Alis.
Et’Eruca twitched its antennae and stared coldly at her while it took a long draw from its pipe.
“Quiet,” said Risus, hunched over the door panel. “I cracked the lock’s code. They have outdated security systems.”
Alis blinked. “I didn’t know you could pick locks.”
“I’ve had a lot of jobs,” said Risus. Her mouth formed a taut line. “These people must have ships. Let’s find their hangar.”
Alis frowned. “What about the Snark? And our shares?”
“And the cargo?” added Et’Eruca.
“We took a lot of damage before landing,” said Risus, “and I’m sure those furless brutes looted the Snark.”
Alis frowned. “I’m right here, you know.”
Risus murmured an apology. Alis closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose to distract herself from her churning stomach. My share is gone. She’d had just enough Free Creds – all she’d saved while working at the family ranch – to buy into the Snark when she signed on. She’d had a vote, a percentage of the ship’s profits, and a chance at something more.
Judging by her calmness, it wasn’t the first time Risus had suffered such a loss, but she imagined Et’Eruca must be livid, the way it ground its mandibles. Alis spoke as little as possible with the P’lar, but knew the success of this venture meant a lot to Et’Eruca. Whether you have a stake means nothing if you’re stuck on this planet.
Alis slid the door open, peering up and down the corridor. “I’ll go first. They may not look twice at a fellow human.” No hangar doors were visible on the side they entered, which meant they were probably on the opposite side. As they moved down the corridor the glaring lights overhead cast everything into sharp relief, throwing their silhouettes onto the brushed aluminum walls. The rattling of the air circulation system muted their footsteps. The occasional murmur of conversation, carried through air ducts, and she cursed at not being able to pinpoint where their adversaries were likely to be before they stumbled upon them.
They entered a room to find a man sitting at the table, sipping a cup of steaming tea, judging by the smell. His breathing mask lay at his elbow. His eyes widened and his hand darted toward his belt.
Alis scanned for a weapon. In a pink and purple blur, Risus vaulted over the table and landed lightly on the ground. The guard twisted toward her as he drew his pistol. She raked her claws across his face. He screamed and clutched his shredded cheek as red rivulets seeped between his fingers.
So much for sneaking out.
Risus wrested the pistol from the guard just as he rose and shouldered into her. Alis darted around the table and swung wildly at the back of his head. Her fist connected with his neck. He grunted and staggered to his knees. Risus whacked the top of his head repeatedly with the pistol’s butt, until he collapsed to the floor.
Et’Eruca’s mandibles clacked. “I can feel the vibrations of several people running to our position.”
Alis nodded, thankful.
They ran down the corridor. Alis scanned the signs by the doors for anything to point them in the right direction. Interspersed between the storage rooms and barracks were processing labs and refineries. What kind of place is this? More voices ahead spurred her to open the next door and dart inside, closely followed by Et’Eruca and Risus.
They stood in a long, high-ceilinged room lined with large cages stacked three high. She gasped. In each cage a stout, four-legged creature with dirty white fur and long pointy ears sprawled. Tubes sprouted from their heads, and ran to boxes with flickering lights mounted in each cage’s ceiling. Even stranger, each one wore a waistcoat covered with dials and other gauges. Faint whirring and clicking sounds emanated from the set-up. Alis’s fingers twitched. How can I get them out?
“What now?” asked Et’Eruca.
Alis stared at the cages. “If we make it out of here, we report this to the Alliance authorities.”
“There may be a reward, too,” said Risus.
Et’Eruca turned away. “This is none of our business.”
Alis spun to face Et’Eruca, pointing to the cages. “How can you not care about what happens to another living thing?”
“I have the rest of my apprenticeship to think about,” said Et’Eruca, clasping both sets of arms behind its back. “My family are navigators. I can’t return home in disgrace.”
“Let’s discuss it later,” said Risus, who listened at the door. “I don’t think anyone’s there.”
Alis realized if they escaped, there might not be any left alive to save. “We should set them free.”
“Why?” asked Et’Eruca. “They’re almost dead. I’m very much alive and want to stay that way.”
Risus gently placed a hand on Alis’s shoulder. “We need to be practical.”
They continued down the corridor and passed more processing labs. Alis wondered how many more creatures were behind those doors being drained. Regardless of what Et’Eruca thought, she must do something. There was no risk here of being arrested for threatening the interests of corporations that squeezed family-run operations; just a chance to finally do the right thing. She could work her way up again on another ship if things soured because of it.
A set of double doors beckoned at the end of the corridor. Alis sprinted the remaining distance and burst into the hangar. A handful of one-person, high-altitude flyers were parked along the far wall, and two larger ships – probably courier vessels or small freighters – occupied the area near the doors. A dozen cages like those in the processing labs lined the nearest wall, but their occupants were very much awake and highly agitated. They immediately began scrabbling and grunting upon seeing Alis and her companions.
Alis started toward the cages. I’ve got to free them from the hell that’s planned for them.
“Either one of the freighters will do,” said Risus.
“Not so fast, and drop the gun.” Et’Eruca aimed a small stunner at Alis and Risus. Alis’s momentary shock quickly dissolved into anger. She clenched her jaw. Their captors had never examined the P’lar’s respirator, which was large enough to conceal a small weapon. Risus placed the pistol on the ground.
“What’s your game?” asked Alis.
“There’s a much bigger prize than laying claim beacons,” said Et’Eruca, gesturing toward Risus.
“Why?” asked Risus.
“You always glossed over your past and never explained why you love working in the fringe systems, when we could be making so much more in the Core,” said Et’Eruca. “That made me curious about what other roles you’ve played.”
“‘Death is the final role,’ as we say at home,” said Risus.
“Some syndicates would agree…and disagree,” said Et’Eruca, “including the one that hired me.”