The Snows of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 3)

by Ward Wagher

  “I can tell you this, Frank: Carlo funded the disposal of those ships for you. He is working on three more. I expect he will tell you more about them when you get to Earth. That is, if you can stay out of his face. I have a chip with the details for you.”

  Frank dropped into the chair again, and slumped back. “Okay, I'll be a good boy. But why are you telling me this, Admiral?”

  “We're not going to stop the Centaurans.”

  “It's back to the Centaurans again, is it?”

  “That's what it comes down to. Carlo and I want to build a bulwark out here in the periphery to hold back the Centaurans.”

  “Are the Centaurans really so bad, Admiral? They bring stability and peace.”

  “They don't bring stability in the long run,” Krause said. “They are autocratic, militaristic, and their culture is flaky to boot. They will eventually self-destruct and then we really will have chaos.”

  “What do you want to build out here?”

  “We need institutions that respect basic human rights and free enterprise. Humanity needs both to survive.”

  “That sounds a bit simplistic to me.”

  “Stay with me, Frank. The nutshell is that the Alpha-Male wants to keep people locked up on their planets. He may not be able to conquer Earth itself; probably won't. But if he controls the high-orbitals, it won't matter. With the Centauran Navy overhead, you have a nice, tight, dictatorship. And we'll have centuries of misery. That's what I aim to prevent.”

  “And you somehow think I can help you with this, Admiral?” Frank asked. “I'm just one man.”

  The Admiral smiled sadly at Frank. “I'm sorry, Frank. I am preparing to lay upon you more grief and heartache than you will believe. I watched you through a Naval career and then you running your business out here. Hepplewhite was just the beginning. I am convinced you will do whatever is necessary to protect your people.”

  “And I couldn't protect Wendy.”

  “Frank! Let it go.”

  “That's easy for you to say.”

  “Don't you think I would move the planets and heaven itself to have saved her?” the Admiral asked.

  Frank shook his head. “No, Admiral, I don't.”

  Now Krause threw his hands in the air and stood up. “Have it your way. I would prefer my best friend not consider me an ogre, but I have a job to do. I don't know why I even try to explain things to you.”

  “Guilt?”

  “That must be it. It's certainly not because of any likeability on your part.”

  “Now that we're agreed,” Frank said, “why don't you just come to the point of your little visit?”

  “All right. First of all, I am hearing rumblings that you are stirring the pot here on New Stockholm. I don't need that, Frank.”

  “Everybody and his brother is trying to get his hand into my pocket and I'm stirring the pot? That's rich, Admiral.”

  “Just try to keep a lid on it, Frank.”

  “And the other?”

  “If word gets around that you're carrying the amount of money to buy a planetary charter, life could get interesting. Let me dictate a message chip for you to give to the Naval Legate at Caledon. I want to detail an escort for you to Earth.”

  “That'll make some skipper's day,” Frank said.

  “Can't be helped. If a group of autochthons want to buy their way out of the Merchant's League, Carlo will do handsprings. For all kinds of reasons. I absolutely want the Navy to protect such a project.”

  “Is that it?”

  The admiral stood up. “As always, your hospitality is legendary.”

  “I expect Charlie's Chief Engineer is itching to put his hand on the throttle.”

  “Right. I'll not keep you.” He stuck out his hand. “It's been interesting. But thanks.”

  § § §

  “I apologize for not telling you about the Admiral, Skipper,” Charles Schubach said. “He told me it was his responsibility.”

  Frank looked at the viewscreen as Schubach talked to him from the Bridge. “I understand. No problem. Are you ready to get under weigh?”

  “We have the last of the provisions on board, so we can go as soon as we get clearance.”

  “Well, don't wait any on my hook,” he said.

  “Very good, Sir. I will proceed as per plan. Will you be coming to the bridge?”

  “No, as we discussed, I think it's better if I am not seen hovering over your shoulder. Besides, you know what you're doing.”

  “Very well, Sir.” And he disconnected.

  Frank returned to his chair as the cabin steward set a cup of coffee beside him.

  “Thank you,” he murmured as he picked it up. “This is very good.”

  The Forsythia's helmsman eased the freighter away from New Stockholm station, and began expanding its orbit away from Sarah's Star. Without access to a sensor screen, it was impossible to determine if the ship was even moving.

  Frank looked at the precis of the latest group of ships being offered him. Admiral Krause had left the data chip with him when he left. Three ships at ten million Centaurans each. He thought about the conversation with the Admiral and about Carlo Roma's role in this project. Why is the Admiral so secretive about what he wants me to do? Every choice involves pain for me and my family and my people. And yet... Willard Krause never does anything without a reason, he thought. And I don't have the courage to turn down deals like this.

  After a very satisfying dinner with the captain and crew, Frank Nyman went to bed, and for once, slept the night through without dreaming about Wendy.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Woogaea revolves around Cardiff-C at 210 million miles. It has a diameter of 11,960 miles and a surface gravity of 1.22 times Earth normal. Cardiff-C is an energetic star, and Woogaea is, as a result, a warm planet with active weather. The carbon-oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere allows a lush and varied biosphere, which most definitely does not resemble Earth's. Oceans cover approximately fifty percent of the surface of the planet. The huge continents are dominated by large numbers of fresh water lakes. The actual water surface of the planet approaches eighty percent.

  Several characteristics combined to give this world an entertaining climate. Its axle tilt is 37 degrees. While it is as far from tfhe primary as Mars is from Sol, Cardiff-C (which the Woogies call God's Furnace) is a brighter star than Sol. Woogaea's two moons, Flagzacca and Flagzoota, raise unpredictable tides, which add another element of unpredictability to the weather. Summers tend to be hot, and steamy, with violent weather. Winters are not cold, but again the weather is... energetic.

  The dominant motif of the planetary life forms is the pentagon. Most life on Woogaea travels on five legs. The higher forms also have five arms. The limbs resemble articulated tentacles rather than arms and legs. The sophants' arms end in five projections that resemble fat earthworms, yet function as fingers.

  As the Forsythia's shuttle descended to the surface of the planet Frank pondered the unlikely association humankind had with the Woogies. The six-hundred year joint history of the two races was at times vexing, gratifying, mutually profitable, mutually frustrating, but always interesting. So far, Frank had not completely categorized the current adventure, but he was sure it would be interesting.

  Smith and Jones flew the shuttle while Frank and Charles Schubach rode in the passenger compartment. They watched out the window as Jones threaded the shuttle past towering thunderstorm cells. The clouds were a brilliant white in the light of God's Furnace. The craft shuddered slightly in the turbulent air.

  “I wouldn't want to fly through one of those, Sir,” Schubach said.

  “It would get a bit rough, I expect,” Frank responded. “I don't remember ever hearing about anybody seriously bending a shuttle due to weather, but I'll bet those storms could be dangerous.”

  “It is something I would not want to experiment with.”

  “Certainly not,” Frank agreed.

  One thing which characterized commercial starship captains was
their risk averse nature. Since so many were owner-operators, they did everything possible to avoid risking their investment. Charles Schubach had picked up this habit from Frank.

  “I can't imagine living on a planet with this kind of weather,” Schubach said. “It's frightening.”

  “You grew up on New America. This is probably mild compared to that.”

  “Yes, but I've spent all of my adult life in space. It's much more peaceful.”

  “Whatever,” Frank said. “But I don't want you flinching from the lightning while we're trying to greet the Woogie panjandrums.”

  “I'll try not to.”

  “Don't be a wimp, Charlie,” Frank said. “If we get hit by lightning, we'll never know it.”

  “You won’t see the bullet coming either,” the Skipper of the Forsythia answered. But it still bothers me.”

  Frank said nothing, but stared straight ahead at the bulkhead.

  After a bit Schubach started and spoke again. “Gee, I'm sorry, Skipper. I wasn't thinking there.”

  Frank shook his head and waved his arm. “Not your fault, Charlie. These things just kind of sneak up on me. I really need to get my life back together. That's what Smith keeps telling me anyway.”

  “I just need to pay more attention to what I say. I do have this habit of stepping in it.”

  “I won't argue with you there,” Frank said with a small smile. “You haven't acquired another dog have you?”

  Schubach turned red. “Not in your life, Skipper. I do learn from my mistakes. And I will try to avoid any learning experiences with the Woogies.”

  “Just remember how much money we're making off this trip, and what your bonus will be.”

  “I read you, Skipper. I will be so good you won't believe it.”

  “You're right. I won't.”

  A delegation of about forty Woogies were waiting at the landing pad as they landed. They surged towards the craft, even as the landing swept a wall of water over them. The rain was coming down in torrents, and the wind rocked the shuttle as it sat on the ground.

  “We're in for it now, Skipper,” Schubach said. “I think we even knocked one of them over when we landed.”

  “Don't worry about it. We've already been paid for this part of the trip.”

  Smith leaned out of the cockpit. “Skipper, we had some of our hosts get into the jet-wash when we landed.”

  “We saw,” Frank replied. “Don't worry about it. The rest of them will think it was funny. I hope.”

  Schubach was gazing out the window. “We're going to get wet.”

  “Just a lovely spring day, Charlie. A little water never killed anybody. Haven't you heard the saying?”

  “What's that, Sir?”

  “When in Woogaea do as the Woogies do.”

  Schubach shook his head. “I don't know, Skipper, but that may come under the category of Too Much Information.”

  “Nonsense, my boy,” Frank clapped Schubach on the back as they stood up. “We'll do fine.”

  They moved over to the entry hatch and waited for Smith and Jones to stand behind them. Frank nodded and Smith pushed the button to power open the hatch. A wave of cold rain blew in as the hatch opened. Schubach moaned as the cold water hit him.

  “Stiff upper lip, Charlie,” Frank said out of the corner of his mouth.

  A trio of Woogies scuttled up the ramp to stand in front of Frank.

  “To be welcomed to Woogaea,” came the electronic voice from the box attached to the middle of the lead Woogie. “I am called Charlie.”

  Frank nodded. “Thank you for your welcome.”

  “Much honored to be visited by the Frank. A signal event,” the Woogie continued.

  “Spanky hired me to come and help you with a cargo.”

  “Indeed. Much honored the Woogies.”

  Frank turned to Schubach. “And this is the Captain of the Forsythia, Charles Schubach. Forsythia is one of my ships, and was available for this cargo.”

  “Much Charles, the Woogie is amazed!”

  Schubach turned to Frank with a quizzical look on his face.

  “He's joking,” Frank said.

  “Heh, heh, heh, that's funny Charlie,” Schubach said.

  Charlie stepped back and his single large blue eye gazed at Schubach. “The joke is on you.”

  He turned to Frank. “Follow, please. To guest nest and then ceremony.”

  Charlie turned and led the procession of Woogies away from the shuttle.

  Frank turned to Schubach and raised an eyebrow. “Nice slice, Brutus.” Then he followed the Woogies.

  Schubach shook his head and sighed, then followed Frank. Smith and Jones completed the procession. Movement was erratic through the driving rain. About fifteen Woogies joined the parade and followed Charlie. The group moved at a marching pace, and the thrumming of all the Woogie tentacles on the ground was clearly noticeable.

  The wide graveled path wove its way through a manicured park towards a large rounded building in the distance. Charlie periodically moved to one side of the path or the other and marched through a large puddle. The following Woogies carefully followed Charlie through the water. It seemed they were splashing as much as possible. With each visit through the mud-bath, the Woogies rumbled and belched, and the aroma of stinkweed and menthol rolled over the humans in an invisible noxious wave.

  During one particularly deep puddle, the eau de Woogie became much stronger and Schubach trotted over to the side of the path and emptied the contents of his stomach.

  “That's twice, Charlie,” Frank said.

  “Oh, give me a break, Skipper. That smell...” And, he suddenly bent over with another convulsive heave.

  One of the Woogies in the procession spun around, and thrummed back to where Schubach was trying to tame a revolting stomach. A towel and glass of water materialized.

  “So sorry, the Woogie,” the smaller pink alien said. “Understand Woogie effusion to be upsetting to humans.”

  Schubach took a drink of the water and swished it around in his mouth before spitting. He wiped his mouth with the towel.

  “Thank you so much,” he said.

  “To be welcome, the human,” the Woogie said. “Understand the odors become a problem.”

  “Please forgive me for not handling this better. I am Charles Schubach, by the way.”

  “To be welcome, the Charles. I am called Sooozie.” The word came out of the Woogie's vocoder strangely.

  “Well, Suzie,” Frank said. “Thank you for preparing for possible problems.”

  “Not Suzie. Sooozie,” the Woogie repeated. “Sooozie. And you are welcome, the human.”

  “Spanky told me Sooozie was looking for me,” Frank said. “Was that you?”

  “No,” Sooozie replied. “That was Spanky. I am Sooozie.”

  “Er... okay.”

  The Woogie spun around and thrummed off to catch up with the rest of the group.

  “Sooozie, Skipper,” Schubach said.

  “Don't push it, Charlie.”

  “I wouldn't think of it, Sir.”

  “Try not to erupt once we are inside.”

  Schubach shook his head as he walked alongside Frank. “Sorry about that, Skipper. I think I have my stomach settled down again.”

  “Ahhh, don't worry about it, Charlie. The aroma gets to me too.”

  “How do you avoid those nasty accidents, Sir?”

  “PMA.”

  “What?” Schubach asked.

  “PMA. Positive Mental Attitude. I just make up my mind I'm going to hold on to my composure. And lunch. Besides, once you get used to the Woogies, they're not a bad sort.”

  “I'll try to follow your example.”

  The group moved out of the rain under an awning that shielded the entrance to the building they were approaching. The architecture was subtle and Schubach tried to ease his intestinal discontent by studying the lines. The motif seemed to favor five-sided shapes, but there were no sharp-edged corners.

  Forsythia's cap
tain was trying to puzzle out the shape of the awning when a Woogie scuttled by, carrying a five legged vaguely octopussal creature on its head. Schubach switched his gaze back and forth between the creature and the similarly shaped awning.

  “Flooga,” Frank said.

  “What?”

  “The awning is shaped like a flooga.”

  “Is that what that creature is?” Schubach asked.

  “It is. The Woogies keep them for pets.”

  “Disgusting.”

  “No, Charlie. Merely different. They think it's disgusting when humans break wind.”

  “So do I.”

  Frank chuckled quietly. “You see, you and they are not so very different.”

  “I'll take that under advisement, Skipper.”

  “Come, our hosts are waiting.”

  The two men followed the entourage into the building. They walked down a long tubular hallway.

  Schubach leaned over to Frank. “I feel like I'm trapped inside a giant purple sausage.”

  “Shh!”

  Smith and Jones followed them, saying nothing.

  The group swept into a large room shaped like the inside of a giant pillow. The walls, ceiling and floor were bright orange.

  Schubach slipped closer to Frank again. “Between the orange, purple and the pink Woogies, I feel like I've been taking hallucinogens.”

  “Put a sock in it, Charlie,” Frank said quietly, but intensely.

  “But I'm practicing PMA.”

  “Will you shut up?” Frank hissed at him. Schubach's mouth snapped shut and he straightened up suddenly.

  Smith and Jones looked at each other. Jones rolled his eyes. Smith nodded.

  Two walls of Woogies swept apart. At the end of one group was a small Woogie, maybe one-third the size of the rest. Its legs(?) thrummed frantically as it tried to keep up with the rest of the group. It tottered and flopped on to the floor with a splat, and an expulsion of ammonia.

  First immature Woogie I've seen, Frank thought.

  Schubach stepped over and set the small being right-side up. He snickered as he moved back over beside Frank.

  Two other adult Woogies quickly gathered around the small one and flooped their thanks to Schubach. Frank almost missed the center of the group as two seemingly identical Woogies marched forward towards him.