The Flavors of Other Worlds

by Alan Dean Foster

  Gray beard flying in the wind, face shield flipped up in defiance of the elements, he had leaped from behind one of the monster’s stiff-spined sails with a pistol clasped in his massive left hand. Shod in boots and not fur, his enormous feet were devoid of ice-cutting chiv. Spears flew and swords were drawn. The iceboat was crewed by six warriors of the Virin, bold and true. In such close quarters the single modern weapon brandished by the arriving apparition did not enjoy the advantage it would have held at a distance.

  On the other hand, Arik saw as he did his best to stay out of the way, the new arrival was taller even than the Tran, and far more stout. The man stood well over two meters tall and must have weighed close to two hundred kilos. This explained how he was able to pick up one warrior and throw him into a pair of his companions as easily as Arik would have tossed a ball.

  One of the walloped was the steersman, who had remained at his post. Struck senseless, he fell forward onto the tiller. The iceboat promptly heeled hard over to starboard. With the remaining Virin occupied in trying to swarm the giant there was no one to haul out on the lines. The iceboat’s starboard runner came up, up off the ice. Arik felt himself losing his balance, falling, and rolling helplessly down the now sharply tilting deck. Somewhere nearby, Jen screamed.

  Darkness arrived before the sun had time to set.

  A light that was bright teased his consciousness back to wakefulness. Faintly, Arik remembered that a bright light was what dead people supposedly saw before they passed into nothingness or onward to another plane of existence. As his vision cleared he saw that the light was coming from a fire. That was probably not what dying people saw, he decided. Optimism restored, he sat up.

  He was sitting on a piece of flat woody material. An unmoving Jen lay on another alongside him. As he cried out, a voice that was ridiculously deep but not ponderous addressed him from the other side of the crackling blaze.

  “Take it easy, young feller-me-lad. She ain’t dead. Dreaming maybe, but not dead.”

  Placing his hands on his spouse, Arik was able to reassure himself that the words spoke the truth. He was further persuaded when she began to moan softly. At that point he thought it might be expeditious to have a closer look at the source of the voice.

  Seated on the far side of the fire the giant who had leaped from the back of the monster onto the deck of the iceboat fed another piece of that shattered craft into the blaze. Moonglow highlighted the rest of the nearby wreckage. The spectral pile of splintered pika-pedan glittered with ice crystals. Of the monster that had chased them down there was no sign.

  “September,” the big man rumbled around a mouthful of food.

  “Actually,” Arik replied as he tried to get comfortable on the rough board that elevated his backside above the treacherous ice, “I think it’s still July.”

  The giant let out a snort. “No, feller-me-lad—I’m September. You can call me Skua. Don’t know why I should let you, though. By rights you at least owe me proper formalities.”

  “We owe you everything, I should think, Mr. Sep—Skua. You saved our lives.”

  “I’ve gone and saved your behinds, anyway.” The big man grunted through his flaring gray beard. Barely detectible beneath overhanging brows, his eyes were as blue as the sky of Tran-ky-ky. “As to your lives, those remain hanging in the balance unless we can get you back to Brass Monkey before you freeze. Tomorrow we’ll know if it’s all one way or all the other.”

  Jen blinked and sat up sharply. Arik was delighted to see that the integrity of her daysuit had not been compromised and that she appeared to be unhurt. As for himself, he was bruised from head to toe, but nothing seemed to be broken. Hugging Jen tightly to him as she put both hands to her head, he looked back at the giant.

  “You sound upset.”

  “Upset?” Arik thought the big man’s gaze was going to cut right through him. “’Pon my word, young feller-me-lad, you’ve no notion of what you’ve cost me, do you?”

  Arik swallowed. Had they been saved from the Virin of kurgal only to find themselves in the hands of a madman of their own species? “Whatever it is, sir, my wife and I will do our best to make it up to you if you’ll just help us to get back to the outpost.”

  “Bollocks and botheration!” the giant snapped. “What I should have done was left the both of you fools to ice cube yourselves out here. You’ve cost me time, is what you’ve cost me. How d’you expect to pay that back?” He turned suddenly wistful. “I was all set to take transport away on the same ship that brought you here. Now I expect it has vacated orbit and gone on its merry changeover way.”

  “No it hasn’t.” Returned to full awareness once more, Jen spoke up.

  The giant glanced over at her. “No offense, young lass, but I don’t see any KK-drive vessel out this way flouting its schedule on my behalf.”

  “Not your behalf, sir. On ours.” She favored Arik with an unexpectedly affectionate look. “My new idiot husband and I are not particularly important people, but we do come from families of some importance. I don’t think the ship will leave without us, or at least not until our deaths should be confirmed.”

  Skua September glared at her. “I’m afraid you have a disproportionately elevated opinion of yourself, young miss. It has been my humble experience that starships don’t hang around waiting on tardy passengers. No matter who their daddy is.”

  Daring to raise her face shield, she flashed blue eyes of her own at him. “I don’t like to think that wealth makes me arrogant. Just realistic.”

  Arik stepped hurriedly back into the conversation. “We might anyway have a few days before the ship’s captain feels he has to depart. How soon can you get us back to the station?”

  September considered. “I’ll do my best, young-feller-me-lad. Out of personal interest as much for your sake. I didn’t come out here with the intention of returning with a block of honeymooning ice in tow.” He smiled. “Yes, I know about that. I just wouldn’t hold out hope that you’ll be leaving this paradise quite as soon as you’d like.”

  “Whatever happens, we’re in your debt, Skua.”

  “Your goddamn debt’s got nothing to do with it. The sooner we get back, the better the chance I have of making that ship.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking,” Arik began as he started to shiver uncontrollably, “how did you find us? And that creature you were riding …?”

  Rising, the giant disappeared into the darkness. When he returned he was carrying an armful of rough-hewn Tran clothing. “Here, put these on as best you can over those failing daysuits. You’ll find the native attire surprisingly insulating.” Sitting back down beside the fire, he used a Tran knife to slice off another chunk of charred meat and shove it into his mouth. Melting grease dribbled off his lips to stain his beard.

  “When you didn’t check back in to your accommodations last night or return your rented iceboat, Ms. Stanhope—she’s the resident Commonwealth commissioner for Tran-ky-ky—sent out a couple of skimmers to look for you. By law and Church edict that kind of technology is not supposed to travel beyond Brass Monkey until this world’s application for associate membership has been vetted and approved. Given the circumstances, she decided to allow an exception so a proper search could be conducted. Since she has less than half a dozen operatives assigned to her staff, the commissioner also asked for Tran and human volunteers to join the search.

  “Unsurprisingly, the local Tran have no interest in wasting time looking for a couple of humans dim-witted enough to lose themselves out on the ice. Those more noble Tran who might have taken the time aren’t around right now. They’re back home north of here in Arsudun. Needless to say, no humans volunteered—they’re not dumber than the natives. However, you don’t get to be a Resident Commissioner, even for an ends-of-the-galaxy iceball like Tran-ky-ky, unless you know how to manipulate hearts and minds. A few of my friends and I have invested quite a bit of time and energy in helping the locals reach the point where they qualify to apply for associate me
mbership in the Commonwealth. Commissioner Stanhope, the old dear, bluntly pointed out that the deaths of an attractive young couple such as yourselves following so soon upon such a submission would reflect badly on the formal application.” He spat to one side. “Politics!”

  “So she appealed to your sense of honor,” Jen remarked.

  “’Pon my word she did. Fortunately for you, that was not all she relied upon. Other words were spoken. ‘Reward’ being among them, I decided it was worth burning a day or two looking for you.

  “Having spent some time on this world and acquired an understanding of certain of its ways, I managed to track your wandering iceboat’s tracks to a hot spring island. There I found evidence pointing to the recent visit of a clandestine native hunting party. Also human spoor, but no sign of your rented craft or you. Knowing what I do about the Tran, I came to some assumptions. Iceboat tracks leading straightaway from Arsudun and not just from the island confirmed my suspicions.

  “That presented a new problem. I knew that no matter how fast and low I came up in a modern skimmer on you and your new friends, they would have ample time to put knives to your throats before I could be certain of taking all of them out, or even talking to them. I was at a bit of a loss how to proceed until I came across the solitary tarqan.

  “Now, a tarqan’s dangerous when it’s on the move, but not so much when it’s feeding. I managed to sneak up on that one. Adept Tran can pretty well steer them where they want them to go by applying heat to certain areas of their body. I had some chemical instant heat paks in the skimmer’s supply locker. They did the job. I knew the hunting party that had taken you would respond defensively to an approach by a tarqan, but they wouldn’t connect its presence to you or to a rescue attempt. In the fading daylight I was able to draw close without being seen. After that I was able to get in among them before they had time to realize what was happening.

  “I would’ve preferred to stay on the tarqan and pick them off from a distance, but I knew that before I could get them all,” he concluded as casually as if describing a day’s excursion in a park, “they would have had plenty of time to cut off your heads.”

  He bit back down into whatever it was that he had cooked over the fire. Arik’s stomach chose that moment to say hello and, by the way, he was starving, and could he perhaps do something about it? Jen was undoubtedly no better off.

  “Could I ask you …” He indicated the hunk of well-seared flesh. It smelled wonderful. “Jen and I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday.” He tried hard not to salivate, knowing that if he did so dripping saliva would freeze hard to his lower lip and chin.

  “Bless my soul, I’ve forgotten my manners.” From the lump he was chewing on, September promptly carved off slices of cooked flesh for both of them.

  Arik bit hungrily into his. Next to him Jen was chowing down with an enthusiasm that was anything but ladylike. With a flavor that was somewhere between pork and undercooked beef, the blackened flesh was delicious.

  “I’m surprised that you would have room in your backpack for raw meat.” Arik discovered he was downright ravenous. “Though on second thought I suppose keeping it frozen isn’t a problem here.”

  “It ain’t frozen, feller-me-lad,” September informed him casually. “It’s fresh.”

  “Fresh?” Jen stared at the giant, her slab of seared flesh halfway to her lips. “Fresh what? Some local food?”

  “In a manner of speaking, young lass.” September nodded in the direction of the destroyed Virin iceboat. “In a difficult situation on a world like this one makes use of whatever is available. Not just here on Tran-ky-ky. I’ve been in awkward circumstances before and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the course of a tolerably long lifetime, it’s that meat is meat.”

  Rising slightly from his sitting position, Arik was able to get a better look at what lay just beyond the fire. Along with the giant’s pack and pistol he was able to make out a larger, more irregular object. It was the corpse of the Virin commander Draz-hode.

  It had been neatly and very professionally butchered.

  Slowly, he removed a half-chewed piece of meat from his mouth. In the flickering light from the fire it looked exactly like any other piece of cooked meat. Next to him, Jen had not so much as paused in her voracious masticating despite September’s matter-of-fact identification of what it was that she was consuming.

  This is not impossible, he admonished himself sternly. All you had to do was turn off your brain while leaving your digestive system running. Slipping the meat back between his lips he resumed chewing while simultaneously doing his best to stop thinking. His stomach thanked him.

  To help take his mind off the fact that he was violating two and possible four of the principle canons of contemporary civilized behavior, he confronted the giant with a question that had been bothering him for a while now.

  “Why are we sitting here eating in the dark and the cold like this? Why haven’t you signaled your skimmer to come fetch us and take us back to the station?”

  By way of reply September unfastened one of his sturdy survival suit’s external pockets. Removing a small handful of electronics, he tossed them across the fire. Arik had to drop his deviant steak to make the catch. Still, several of the pieces missed his fingers to scatter on the ice. Too many pieces, he thought with sudden unease.

  “This component is broken,” he murmured as he and Jen studied the debris.

  September nodded. “Sure can’t fool you, young feller-me-lad. During the dust-up, that module took the full force of a blow from a Tran battleaxe. The flat side of the axe, fortunately. Only bruised me, but it sure made a mess of my communicator.”

  Jen gaped at him. “So we’re marooned again? Except that now there’s three of us, and we’re that much further from Brass Monkey?”

  “It is a bit of a hike back, yes.” Setting his food aside, September reached behind him and hauled his backpack into the firelight. From its depths he withdrew a pair of enormous ice skates. The blades were not stone, and had been fashioned out of duralloy or some similar metal.

  “Local government issue. Wish I’d had them with me a year ago.” Illustrating how they fit, he slipped one over the integrated right boot of his survival suit. Wiggling it caused the triple blades to catch the light of the fire. It dawned on Arik that the skate’s design had been modeled after a Tran foot.

  “Special coating baked onto the blades reduces friction to next to nothing,” September told them proudly. “You can make pretty good time with a pair of these. And with this.” Digging into the pack once more he pulled out a thin sheet of carboflex. A contiguous seal was visible along the edge.

  “This attaches to a survival suit. Fits in a roll over your arms and across your back. Mimics Tran dan.” Extending both long arms out to his sides he made slightly awkward flapping motions. “Catches the wind and propels you across the ice. Just like one of the natives.”

  “Clever.” Jen eyed the commodious pack. “Where’s ours?”

  “Well now, lass, that does present a bit of a problem. This is emergency gear. It’s intended to allow someone who knows what they’re doing to maybe make it back to civilization in the event of a complete skimmer or iceboat breakdown. I’m afraid I only have the one set, for me.”

  The newlyweds exchanged a glance. “Then what are we to do?” Arik asked. “Wait here for you to return with your skimmer?”

  “Hardly. There are enough fancy ice sculptures in Brass Monkey without adding the two of you to the gallery. You’re coming with me.”

  “How?” Jen contemplated their rescuer’s considerable size. “Can you carry us?”

  “Not while trying to stay upright on the ice while maneuvering artificial dan. But in the course of the past year I’ve gotten pretty good at improvising.”

  The flat ice skid the big man threw together from the wreckage of the Virin iceboat was uncomfortable and fragile. At any moment Arik expected it to come apart under him and Jen. Salvaged pika
-pedan ropes attached it to September’s waist. With his arms held outspread and the artificial dan attached at wrist, arms, sides and waist, he could both pull the sled and catch the ubiquitous wind.

  Though they started out slow, soon the three of them were all but flying across the ice. Buried beneath appropriated Tran clothing and eyeing September through his protective face mask, Arik wondered how long the giant could keep his arms extended straight out to the sides. Long enough, it developed, for the skid’s two recumbent passengers to feel more bumps and jolts than they had before in their entire lives up to that point.

  By the time they reached the small cold spire of an island where September had parked his skimmer, the both of them were sore from head to heel. Though their rented daysuits had by now chemically redlined, the layers of Tran fur and leather taken from their dead abductors had kept them from freezing. Aching and exhausted, they stumbled gratefully into the waiting warmth of the skimmer’s interior. With the inadequate pilot’s seat groaning beneath his weight, September set a course back to the Commonwealth outpost.

  There they discovered that the giant had been right about something else. Commercial KK-drive ships did not linger on behalf of passengers who missed their assigned shuttle. Not even on behalf of rich ones. The next starship was not due to visit Tran-ky-ky for a month. Until then the newlyweds would have to listen like everyone else to their rescuer grumble and complain as he stalked the heated halls of the station. They would have to endure this just as they would have to endure surroundings that were considerably less appealing than those they had planned to enjoy on the balance of their travels. At least, however, they were alive and had each other.

  Even if it was for as frigid a honeymoon as any two citizens of the Commonwealth had ever experienced.

  5

  Consigned