Voyage

by E M Gale

  ‘Ah. That was how Cleckley looked at me after the blood-drinking. Shit.’

  I checked my teeth with my tongue. They were still retracted.

  ‘Not the teeth then, what is it?’

  “What’s up?” I said, picking an insect leg out of my incisors with a fingernail.

  “You…” Anna looked rather pale and couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “They’re bugs, Clarke! Living bugs!” exclaimed Rob, waving his arms around in disgust.

  “Yeah, but they must be edible otherwise they wouldn’t serve them here,” I said with a shrug.

  “But… you ate them!” spluttered Anna.

  ‘Well, yeah.’

  “I was hungry,” I said.

  “But… that’s gross,” said Rob, looking perturbed.

  “Oh, which bit? The fact they were bugs or that they were living?”

  “Both.” He was a little disturbed, I think.

  ‘Hehe.’

  “You do know there are many cultures on Earth that eat bugs? And the ancient Romans used to eat ants covered in honey. And then there’s desert shrimp.”

  He still looked shocked.

  “But alive?” Anna’s face was the picture of disgust.

  “The Romans did. And anyway at least that way it’s fresh.”

  “Did you like it?” Rob asked.

  “Of course,” I said with a shrug.

  ‘It’s not surprising that I would like this dish. Fresh meat, which I seem to like, and a small amount, but an amount nonetheless, of blood. Yum.’

  “Why?”

  ‘Um…’

  “Because it’s an unparalleled opportunity to study the local wildlife up close,” I said with a grin.

  “And eat them,” said Anna, her nose wrinkling up.

  “Yup, an unparalleled opportunity to taste the local wildlife, without having to catch them yourself–”

  ‘–or chat them up.’

  I sniggered at my thoughts.

  “Bleurgh,” said Rob. He looked at his plate. It was still covered in his lunch and it was cold now. He cautiously spooned some of his meat and quinoa up as if he expected it might come alive and start wiggling an antenna at him.

  ‘Surely I haven’t managed to put Robert Deegen, the guy who can eat college catering with aplomb, off his food?’

  “Anyway, guys”–I looked at my watch–“I gotta go.” I stood up and fished out some money for the meal. They hadn’t eaten much of their food yet, and I suspected that it would take them ages to finish.

  ‘What did they do, just watch me eat? Weird.’

  “Where are you going?” asked Rob.

  “You’re not off to chat up barmen, are you?” said Anna, with a sidelong look at Rob for some reason.

  “Tragically not. I’ve got to get some stuff for work.”

  ‘Which is kinda true. And anyway, I have to deliver that letter sooner rather than later, as I have no idea how long it will take.’

  “Can’t we come with you?” asked Rob.

  ‘Well, no. That won’t be a good idea. You’ll probably piss off the smugglers. Then again, maybe I ought to at least tell them where I’m going, just in case the smugglers do anything funny. My friends can send a posse of marines after me. OK, that will probably be embarrassing and anyway, what would I do? Write down the address and ask them not to look unless I don’t come back to the ship? They’ll look as soon as I’m out of range and follow me there, which is probably even worse than them coming with me.’

  “Nah,” I said, turning to go.

  “Well… how long will you be?” asked Rob.

  ‘What’s with all the questions? Honestly, I agreed to come round and look at the sights with you guys, I didn’t agree to spend every waking moment with you.’

  “Coupla hours,” I said cautiously.

  “And then what?”

  I shrugged. “Stroll around this winter wonderland. Enjoy not being cooped up on the ship.”

  ‘And try not to think about just where Price is in this bloody city. What will I say if I bump into him?’

  I was staring off into space, I think, since Rob had to wave at me to attract my attention.

  “Can I meet up with you afterwards?” he asked. I shrugged.

  ‘Well… I don’t have any plans. I mean, I want to avoid Price, not go looking for him, right? Yes, it would be awful if I went looking for him. I’d still say no to following him. So what would be the point?’

  “Uh, sure. Three hours, outside the library,” I said. I picked up all my stuff. “See you later.”

  * * *

  The Kuj Kuz-aj?

  The Blue Flamenco Bar was a club, and it being daytime, it was relatively empty. The joint was open and a few people were drinking or eating plates of deep-fried bugs, which seemed to be the Kreeglish cultural equivalent of chips. The interior was painted a deep red colour with numerous gilt touches. The bar was deep purple with a sky-blue vinyl background and there were various odd-coloured spirits lit up in front of it. I wasn’t surprised to see a bottle of that tequila stuff that had a drowned worm in it. The Kreegle obviously had no issues with entomophagy, why would they worry about worms?

  ‘I wonder if the Kreegle home planet is warm and full of bugs? Do they ship in live bugs for the salads? It’s a little cold for bugs that big here.’

  “What can I get you, flower?” asked the barman, distracting me as I walked along looking at each spirit in turn. He was a Kreegle, large for his species, which was, I guessed, why he’d got the job of being a barman in a club.

  I grinned.

  ‘Here goes nothing.’

  I was glad my friends hadn’t come with me–I was slightly embarrassed at this.

  “A pink flamingo margarita,” I mumbled.

  ‘Honestly, all flamingos are pink, aren’t they? And what a stupid name for a margarita. I guess they bung food colouring in it or something. And I’d bet that the Kreegle have no issues with food colourings made from bugs.’

  The barman eyed me cautiously.

  “This way,” he said, walking out from behind the bar. I followed him out to a back room. There was even an orc guarding the door.

  ‘Hardly subtle, is it?’

  The orc looked me up and down with a stern expression, one that I guessed was supposed to intimidate, especially if you were a Kreegle who wasn’t used to orcs. But then he recognised me. His eyes went wide. I smiled and he opened the door for me, politely.

  Inside there was a smaller plush room with deep red sofas and enough gilt lamps and ornaments to be tasteful touches for the Albert Hall. In the smaller space they crowded in, making the place look like a fixtures and fittings showroom.

  A Kreegle entered, obviously the owner, flanked by two others who stood a little way behind him. The owner was short and a deep pinky-orange colour like the rest of his species. Unlike the rest of his species, he had rather chubby chipmunk cheeks. He was wearing a sky-blue velvet suit with a pale pink trim, a yellow shirt and an orange tie. Kreegle might like bright colours, but this was over the top even for them. He’d set the whole ensemble off with a squareish deep red hat, set at a rakish angle. The owner’s heavies were marginally more tastefully dressed, one in vermillion and pink and the other in yellow and green. I smiled at the owner in greeting.

  “You have something for me?” he asked without any further introduction.

  I fished the letter out of one of my pockets.

  “Picked this up for you in a sinister bar on Ostmark.”

  He took the envelope, opened it and looked at the contents, but he didn’t take them out to show me.

  ‘Shame.’

  “How much do I owe you?” he asked, pretending to look at the letter, but watching my reaction from under the hat’s lopsided brim.

  ‘Ah, what to do? This sounds good. Maybe I can get paid twice. But he’s watching me surreptitiously. Bugger. What to do…? Maybe goodwill is better than money. Probably not. You can count on money more.’

  “I
was paid in coffee,” I said regretfully. The heavy in pink glared at me. “But please feel free to pay me again,” I added with a grin.

  ‘Fat chance.’

  “You seem like a decent sort,” he said, half smiling, half smirking.

  ‘I was right, he was testing me. Obviously, they like honest smugglers.’

  “What’s your name?”

  ‘Damn. Oh, well, the orc knows anyway.’

  “Clarke,” I said with a sigh.

  ‘So much for subtlety.’

  He chuckled and tilted his head to the side. “The Clarke?”

  I nodded.

  “You know, I’ve not met a vampire before.”

  I really wasn’t doing that well at being undercover.

  “You’re pale, I’ll grant you that, but not exactly cloud-pale. More sand-pale. No, perhaps pastel pink is the best description.”

  ‘Wouldn’t he be offended if I went on about his lobster-pinkiness?’

  “It’s the clothes,” said one of the other Kreegle, shorter than the owner and possessing a gloating smile. “All that space black, it’d make anyone look whiter than a moon-spider.”

  ‘As if Anna wasn’t bad enough, I’m now getting fashion advice from smugglers. In vermillion.’

  The owner nodded. “Do you have to wear space black or do you choose to?”

  I shrugged. “And your name?” I hated unfairness. He had the advantage if I didn’t know his name.

  “Kuj Kuz-aj.”

  ‘Great. That’s useful. Like I’ll be able to remember a name like that.’

  I repeated the name thoughtfully, trying to get my brain round the unfamiliar words. He looked at me like he was expecting something.

  ‘Hmm…’

  “Not the Kuj Kuz-aj?” I said, doing my best to look impressed. He grinned from ear to ear.

  ‘Nice guesswork, Clarke. I wonder what the hell he’s famous for? I hope not his fashion advice.’

  “Yup,” he said proudly.

  ‘Well… I’ll have to look him up later. Time to lay it on thicker than cupcake butter icing.’

  “Wow, I’m honoured to meet you in the flesh.”

  ‘Flattery, who doesn’t like it?’

  He looked quite happy.

  ‘He’s warmed to me then.’

  “Likewise,” he said, still smiling.

  “And I’m Bec Ku,” said the chatty lackey.

  “Uh, honoured.”

  “So, now that introductions are over”–Kuj Kuz-aj smiled–“you’re travelling on the Silvered Cloud, are you not?”

  ‘How does he know that? I doubt they have someone watching the docks for every ship… unless he knew which ship his letter was coming in on. Why do I have a feeling that the guy in the bar on Ostmark told Kuj Kuz-aj that I was coming, that I’d been paid, which ship I was on? I bet that message went over the hypernet days ago, but the data in the letter I brought obviously can’t be transferred that way.’

  “Yup. I’m keeping a low profile.”

  He nodded like this was all perfectly normal and acceptable.

  “A nice ship that, a very… civilised ship, looks like. With one expensive paint job.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You can’t have it.”

  He grinned.

  “The honourable Kuj Kuz-aj only travels in imperial-red ships,” remarked Bec Ku.

  “Oh, I don’t know. When there’s blue-backs about, going incognito does have a certain attraction.”

  “Blue-backs?” I queried.

  ‘Aliens? Monsters? What threat is this?’

  “Kreegle Civil Law Enforcement,” said Bec Ku.

  I rolled my eyes. “There’s little of that out here.”

  Kuz-aj smiled. “Which is why I am here. So, Clarke, where are you going next?” The two Kreegle exchanged a look. “Would you like to make some money, delivering another letter?”

  “I’d love to, but I have no idea where we’re going next.”

  “Why? You lost?”

  “Maybe senile,” chuckled Bec Ku. I glared at him.

  “I’m in disguise as a mercenary. They don’t tell the grunts anything and there’s nothing in the ship’s flight plan.”

  Kujjie nodded. “I guess a good disguise has its drawbacks as well; even a mediocre disguise should be actions as well as couture.”

  ‘Couture? Of all the French words to know, he knows that? Kreegle do seem to be clothes horses as well as colour-blind.’

  “Still, I suspect you’ll probably be landing on Tortuga soon.”

  ‘Tortuga, Tortuga, where have I heard that name before?’

  “I can’t guarantee it.”

  He nodded. “That’s fine.” Here he spoke to Bec Ku in Kreeglish and sent him out. “Whilst you’re here, Clarke, you after anything special?”

  I grinned.

  “Nothing major, just orcian coffee, twenty kilos.”

  ‘Jane. She’s a bitch, but she’s got money. And did ask nicely enough.’

  “And two cartons of cigarettes, regular tobacco.”

  He laughed at that. I got the feeling that what I was asking for was easy for him to source. Another goon came in and handed a letter to Kuz-aj.

  ‘Is that his last name? What the hell do his friends call him for short? Kujjie? Kuzie? Kudge?’

  “If you take this letter to Tortuga, I’ll get the recipient to pay you fifty thousand pelfre.”

  ‘Oooo, nice.’

  “I’d love to, but I can’t guarantee I’ll go there.”

  “Yes, I got that.” He sounded slightly annoyed. “If the information doesn’t get there in two weeks’ time it’ll be useless, so if you can get it there before that, you get paid. Otherwise, you might as well space it.”

  I nodded.

  ‘OK. I ought not to take the damn letter, I can promise nothing, but then again, fifty thousand pelfre isn’t to be sniffed at. In fact, fifty thousand pelfre could buy you a hell of a lot of things to sniff.’

  “OK,” I said. “Where do you want it dropped off then?”

  “When you arrive on Tortuga, I’ll have someone approach you.”

  I raised an eyebrow at that.

  ‘I don’t like that much. But then again… it is only delivering a letter. That can’t cause too much trouble, right? Right?’

  ‘Then again, it is fifty thousand pelfre…’

  “OK, whatever,” I said with a shrug.

  He smiled. “It’s hard to find a fast ship with someone…”–I looked at him, amused–“trustworthy aboard.”

  ‘Yeah, mate, I don’t trust you at all and you certainly don’t trust me. I suppose you just trust me more than someone who hasn’t proven that they can carry a letter from one planet to another.’

  A door opened and a new Kreegle came in with my cigarettes and coffee, and they’d bagged it up too. Nice. This was almost as good as the service in those little imported food boutiques that sold overpriced foreign munchies twenty-four hours a day. Wasn’t my sort of thing, way too pricey and I had no special attraction to dried meat sticks from South Africa or cookies from America, but I guessed the expats liked it. However, oddly enough, there had been occasions in my student days when I had been desperately in need of food at odd hours of the night and they were the only place open. They’d wrap it up all nice for you, even if it were obvious that you were simultaneously drunk and hungover. They were even polite enough to wait whilst you were having difficulty counting out what was left of your month’s money for cigarettes, crisps and fizzy drinks.

  “And that’ll be fifteen hundred pelfre,” said Kuz-aj.

  ‘What, no discount?’

  I passed him the cash.

  ‘Well, that was easy.’

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” I said. He smiled and shook my hand.

  ‘Well, this guy is rather nice and friendly for a smuggler.’

  I walked out and tried not to notice that the orcish bodyguard stood up straight, practically at attention, as I walked past.

  �
��Oh, well. I guess I don’t get my margarita. Not that I am particularly keen on them; the colour of swimming-pool water, the taste of a limey sea. Still, not that bad. I’d drink one if it were given to me for free, even if it’s dyed pink.’

  This time, as I could mist, it was a lot easier to sneak into the library and gather useful intel. That done, I parked myself to read by the window so that I had a view of the lawn. It was nice, quiet and dark in the library. I always felt safe in libraries–they were good places to hide away, surrounded only by the comforting silence of the books. I would have found a darker corner to sit in, but I wanted to watch for my friends. However, instead of reading I found myself thinking, and, as my thoughts were not good company, I was happy when Rob headed over.

  ‘Oh? No Anna? I thought they were both coming.’

  I walked back down to the room with the Kreeglish books, misted out under the back door and strode round to the front. Seeing me, Rob smiled.

  “Hey, Rob, where’s Anna?”

  “Oh? She’s back at the ship,” he said, giving me an odd look.

  “OK, let’s wander then.” I had discovered where the only park in the city was, so I turned our steps towards it.

  “So… did you get your books?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why didn’t you just buy some?”

  ‘Ah, there’s several reasons for that.’

  “Loads of good reasons.”

  He waited. The air was deliciously cold. I was cold, but since the ship was kept at a good temperature for human habitation it was enough of a novelty being cold that I didn’t mind it and kept my coat unbuttoned.

  “It costs more money, people will be able to see the books on my shelf and know what I’m reading and I can fit far more electronic books onto the little notepad thing than I could in my little room.”

  He nodded at that. “Military books? To get you up to speed?”

  I couldn’t quite understand what the expression on his face meant, so I shrugged. “Just books,” I said nonchalantly. I saw the park up ahead.

  ‘This is more interesting than stupid upside-down wasps’-nest buildings with fancy arches. Who cares about architecture; what sort of flora and fauna do they have on this planet?’

  “Ah, you wanted to walk in the park then?” asked Rob.

  I grinned at him. “Of course. I like parks.”