Scoundrels' Jig (The Chronicles of Eridia)
Page 32
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“Did you see that?” Kirby cried after the machine had charged through the clearing. He turned and looked at the rear wall of the machine as if expecting to be able to see through it.
“I sure did, Mr. Kirby,” Blunt said.
“I think this damn thing killed some naked chick.”
“She was green.” Blunt added with a giggle.
“Yeah…” Kirby frowned. “What kind of woman’s green anyway? Maybe she was a gorg or something. In which case I ain’t losin’ any sleep over it.”
“Doshen mo-ma!” said the voice from the console for what had to be the hundredth time.
By now dozens of lights all across the console were flashing red. In addition a single small red bulb in the center of the ceiling had likewise started flashing.
“I wonder what the lights and things are all about,” Blunt said. “They seem kinda—”
Three harsh honks sounded from the console, and a voice said, “Doshen mo-ma! Dodego ma-skwaga ma-mag! Modedongo shukik shkolopodeda dest! Dangya!”
And with that every light winked out, and the machine stopped so suddenly that Kirby and Blunt would have crashed through the window if they hadn’t been strapped into their seats. As it was, they wound up with minor whiplash and some nasty belt-burns.
“Huh,” Kirby said. “I guess it ran out of power or something. That must’ve been what all that ‘dozing moma’ shit was about.” He shrugged. “Ah, well, it got us away from those little exploding thingamajigs and helped us cross most of the woods in what has to be some kind of record time. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
They went to the back of the machine, and Kirby soon found a small dark square that matched the one on the outside of the machine. When he pressed it, the hatch slid open, thought it did so much more slowly than before and stopped with a good two inches to go.
“Wow,” Kirby said. “That must’ve been the last little dribble of power.”
“We got lucky, Mr. Kirby.” Blunt winced and scratched at the leg that had been hurt by the tiny exploding pirate.
“You okay there?” Kirby asked distractedly as he stuck his head out the hatchway and listened for any screams.
“Yeah, fine,” Blunt said.
Had Kirby not been so preoccupied he would have detected the lie in Blunt’s voice. Blunt wasn’t okay. His leg itched like mad and when they had gotten out of their chairs, he had noticed weird little lumps all over it. As soon as the two of them were back on the ground, he would have to put on one of the extras pairs of pants Mr. Kirby had been smart enough to insist they bring along. And he’d have to do it quickly, because he didn’t want Mr. Kirby to see that anything was wrong. The last thing he wanted to do was worry Mr. Kirby, especially now that they were so close to making their big score. Maybe later, when the gold was theirs and they could do whatever they wanted, maybe then he could worry about his leg. But for now, it was best to just cover it up and soldier on.
“Sounds like we left those little bastards far behind,” Kirby said with a smile. He climbed out onto the ladder.
For a moment Blunt just watched him climb down, feeling an uncharacteristic moment of sadness.
Kirby stopped halfway down the ladder and peered up at Blunt’s face in the hatchway.
“You comin’?”
“You betcha, Mr. Kirby,” Blunt said, forcing a hearty smile. He hefted himself through the hatch and onto the ladder. “I’m with you all the way.”