“One can only hope,” Jaelle returned. “But I think you overestimate how much you’ll be missed, especially after that Morok captain starts talking.”
“Imagine how indebted I would be to you both for preventing that.”
Maauro reappeared at the top of the ramp racing down to us. Dusko fell silent, despair on his face. We opened the doors and hauled him out.
“All clear,” she announced, then looked at Dusko. “I assumed he used a variety of threats and inducements for you to let him escape.”
“It was amusing,” Jaelle returned.
We started up the ramp. To my surprise the crab robots followed. I looked at Maauro who shrugged. “They are not AI’s, merely good expendable weapons. We may need them”
Ahead, a large cargo hatch gaped, and the machines followed us in. Maauro sealed the hatch behind us as the crab robots, doubtless following unheard orders from her, latched themselves down to the deck. One had to haul itself up the side of a wall, as the hold was small and partly full of crates and containers.
We charged up to the crew quarters. With escape so close, a sort of giddy hysteria seemed to take hold of us, even Maauro. We came to one small cabin, and she pitched Dusko in bodily, securing the door and adding a spot weld with her hand torch.
“Bridge,” I yelled as we scrambled up ladders. As we climbed, I marveled at all that had been packed into the small courier. Her flight-deck featured seats tilted back for a reclining lift off. I preferred aircraft types like Sinner that simply flew into space, but this ship was far larger, even equipped for artificial gravity.
I gestured Jaelle to a jump seat against the back bulkhead, while Maauro busied herself with the computer.
“Excellent,” Maauro said. “Dusko has not elected to play games with us. His passwords have released a wealth of information. There are papers and data for several different identities for this vessel. Once we lift off we can assume a new identity—”
“We’ll be untraceable then, a couple of identity switches and the Faberge will be no more, we’ll have disappeared.” I said.
“In practical terms, yes.”
“We will still be a human, a Nekoan and a Noneofyourgoddamnbusinessean traveling together,” Jaelle added.
I looked at her. “We could always lose your ears, tail, and fangs.”
“I’ll lose them in your skinny human butt.”
She turned to me. “What shall we name our new ship, Wrik?”
I thought briefly. “S.S. Misadventure.”
Jaelle groaned.
Maauro nodded. “Appropriate.”
A light glowed green on the computer console.
“Lift clearance received,” Maauro said.
I hopped up in the seat and hit the switches to get it to recline for take-off as Maauro did the same. Even with the urgency of escape in mind we had to go through the pre-flight checklist. The Guild had spared no expense to keep the vessel ready for immediate spacing and I cut every corner I dared.
Jaelle kept a watch on a maintenance panel near her seat. Every second I dreaded the sight of vehicles full of Guild racing toward us, but Dusko’s orders seemed to be holding.
“Checklist, clear,” Maauro said finally.
“Okay belt in,” I snapped. “We’re launching.”
As belts clicked, I switched the impellers from standby to thrust. Misadventure started up slowly as the drive built power steadily. We cleared the mooring and were airborne, starting to pick up speed. Air left my lungs in a whoosh of relief.
The huge world fell away from us. I was glad we weren’t riding an older chemical or atomic rocket that would have crushed us into our seats as we lifted. It gave me a last chance to look at Kandalor. Life there had not turned out as I’d hoped. No clean break with the past, no fresh start. I’d gone from disgraced refugee to hounded enemy of the Guild.
Yet something had been gained. I’d never be taken for any sort of hero, yet I had learned to stay cool under fire, to stand my ground with my comrades. No medals were owed me, but I was no longer the utterly lost coward.
I’d recovered two other things I thought lost with my self-respect over Retief. First was the warmth and affection of a woman. I couldn’t call it love yet, or maybe ever. For all the similarities between us, Jaelle was not human. A part of me that I hated cringed from that, from the thought of being mocked by my family and former friends for settling for something less than human. That thought sparked anger, for in Jaelle I had found more concern and genuine tenderness than I’d experienced before. Far from thinking her inferior, I could only wonder what she saw in the box of broken bits that was me.
Next there was Maauro, the only being who knew my real name. She’d gone from being a nightmare horror on a dead asteroid to something between best friend and kid sister. I remembered the sick feeling that spread through me when I saw her burned, torn and senseless in Sinner’s wreckage.
As if sensing my regard, Maauro turned toward me, gazing steadily with her huge aquamarine eyes. A small smile played across her lips, and then she turned back to the canopy, looking not at Kandalor fading away below, but at the stars that she loved, as if she were a little girl and the universe was her jewel box full of sparkling gems. Maauro the killer, Maauro the innocent, Maauro my first true friend in my new life as Wrik Trigardt.
I shook my head ruefully. The path my life had taken was so hard to believe and the future promised only more madness, but at least I was no longer alone.
Chapter 16
I waited until we accelerated to full speed to engage the autopilot and turn to the matter of Dusko. Misadventure was beyond catching now, but we had no particular destination in mind yet. I wanted some better idea of our prospects before I committed us to jump.
Maauro cut the weld she’d made, and I walked in without knocking. Dusko sat on the narrow bunk that folded out from the wall. The Dua-Denlenn’s extra joints made him look as if his arms were already broken as he sprawled there. From the wetness on his shirtfront it seemed he’d managed to get some water out of the fresher in the corner. He looked up at me, his face expressionless.
I closed the door. “Doubtless if our positions were reversed, you would be planning some unpleasant time for me.”
Dusko shrugged. “It’s how we are.”
“You’ll be surprised how little good cultural relativism will do you as a defense.”
“Dua-Denlenn don’t beg for mercy, if that’s what you want, Trigardt. We don’t even have a word for that concept. We use yours.”
“I’m not interested in your begging. As Maauro said, your only value to us is as an intel source. We want to know all you can tell us about the Collector, about who is hunting us.”
“You may find me a tough nut to crack.”
I opened the door. “I won’t be your interrogator. Come in, Maauro.”
To my surprise Dusko’s face didn’t change.
“No doubt she can inflict sufficient pain on me for you to think you are getting intelligence. I foolishly gave her a chance to demonstrate that when I lied to her about something she had ways of verifying, such as whether this ship was ready for launch when all she had to do was check the port database. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Maauro walked over to the wall. Despite his supposed insouciance, the alien stiffened. “You clearly have a proposal in mind,” she said.
“Yes. You are smart enough to understand that I did not rise to my status in the Guild by being either a coward or a fool. My kind’s ethical system, simple as it is, seems to elude other species. I am not loyal to the Guild, as it is not loyal to me. We simply use each other. You were quite clever to leave the Morok alive. He is doubtless poisoning the local Guild against me. Worse, he is making a report to the Collector’s agents. You have made my return to the Guild quite impossible.”
“Your point?” I prompted.<
br />
“I have nowhere else to go for the foreseeable future and may as well support your efforts with both my skills and information. In return, I will expect decent treatment, freedom of the ship when we are not on world. Accept me as one of your crew, and I will use my best efforts for you. As you know, I am a pilot—”
“You will not set foot in the control space,” Maauro said.
“As you wish. You may find me useful in engineering. I served on a freighter before I became an importer. If you plan to stay free with this ship, you will find it useful to have my trade skills.”
“We have Jaelle,” Maauro said.
“She is a merchant, not a cargo-master or importer,” Dusko said. “There is much she does not know. Especially if you seek to avoid Guild contacts, something I need to do now to preserve my life. ”
“Very well, we agree,” Maauro said.
“I will accept Trigardt and Tekala’s word on my safety.”
“Interesting. Why not mine?”
“Because I suspect you are too similar to a Dua-Denlenn. I have no idea if you even have a sense of honor.”
“That’s rich from you,” I snapped.
Maauro held up a hand. “I am a warrior. I have my code.”
“If you are what I suspect you are, you were made for a genocidal conflict. No quarter asked and none given. I am your enemy. I will not trust you.”
“You place a curious lot of faith in me for a man who shot my ship from the sky,” I growled.
“You and Jaelle are not the merciless killers you pretend to be, particularly you. Whatever scruples you have are all the protection I have.”
I moved to the wall communicator. “Jaelle, Dusko wants your promise of good treatment and continued survival if he aids us.”
It took her a minute to stop cursing. “Do we have to do this?”
“I think so.”
“I agree then. Tell him if there is any treachery Maauro will pull his intestines out of his butt.”
“Swear it on the honor of the Tekala Trading Family and your household gods,” Dusko said.
There was more cursing in Nekoan. “I so swear,” she concluded.
Dusko looked at me and I nodded tight-lipped.
“Very well, ask your questions.”
“The Collector, give me everything.”
“Not much is known, not even her name, at least at my level. She is High Guild and has been so for all the time I have been in the Guild. About five years ago she entered into a state of semi-retirement, devoting herself to her passion.”
“Which is?” I prompted.
“Antiquities, mysteries and secrets.”
“Unusual,” I said. “I’d have thought there was more money in other things.”
Dusko shrugged irritably. “Guilders have their passions like anyone else. The Collector has always pursued ancient technology and artifacts. She has sponsored robberies on inner world estates, primitive worlds, even government labs and museums. Rumor has it she’s even financed expeditions into lonely parts of space where no one has gone before.
“When….” He paused and gestured at Maauro.
“You can use her name. She only has the one,” I replied.
“When Maauro came on the scene, I was working for the Collector on the asteroid station project. I reported both the base we found and the attack on us, though at the time I thought Maauro was a Confed Humanform Robot. No offense.”
“None taken,” Maauro said with a hint of amusement.
“I reported the disaster on the ancient base and the fact that Confed military was taking over the find. So I began searching elsewhere and encountered Jaelle’s artifacts that led me to the Tar Sea, where we discovered the body of one of the ancients evidently dragged up from the bottom of the Tar Sea.”
“It was called an Infestor,” Maauro interrupted.
“Well if we ever see the Murch elder again we can tell him who took his scarecrow,” I added.
“What?” Dusko said.
“Irrelevant, continue,” Maauro directed.
“Well you know how that resolved. But each encounter with you two led me to realize that Maauro was something more than a Confed machine. I passed the information on. This ship brought orders from the Collector to end my attempts to destroy you, Maauro. Instead, I was to capture, or otherwise induce you to join the Collector’s treasure trove. And of course, you plunged through the roof during that discussion.”
“It would seem this Collector is quite determined,” Maauro said. “Do you believe she will pursue us off world?”
“Very likely. She has an obsessive interest in what we call the Old Empire.”
“We called ourselves the Creators and the Infestors,” Maauro replied.
Dusko digested this.
“I’ll get you a printout of the cargo manifest,” I said. Maybe you’ll have some ideas about possible trade destinations to discuss with Jaelle.”
Dusko straightened. “I already know the manifest. I even have a possible market in mind.”
Chapter 17
“Why would I want to deal with a brand-new freight company with no reputation?” Tenevan asked as she sat back in the overstuffed leather chair. The Denlenn’s face was friendlier than her words, I thought. It was still a little difficult for me to wrap my mind around the fact that her kind were related to, yet so unlike Dusko’s people. For one thing her eyes were not the arctic-blue from lid to lid like a Dua-Denlenn but held greenish-gold pupils and looked human.
Tenevan had met us at a coffee and brandy house in the capital, such as it was, of Frosteer, a small, mixed colony in the hollow between the long-settled sectors of the Confederacy and the new space of Kandalor and the Nekoan territories. We were only weeks away from Kandalor but hundreds of light years. The hyperspace pipeline between the two widely separated sectors wasn’t called the Galactic Express for nothing.
I breathed the pleasant smell of scented wood from the crackling, stone fireplace and admired the rough-hewn beams and stonework of the Landing Hall, an old hunting lodge that had been converted as a city grew around it.
Jaelle, Dusko and I sat on the other side of a table made from one massive board of the nearly imperishable Frosteer trees. Those trees provided part of our cargo. We were negotiating with the Denlenn merchant for a cargo of amber-like sunstones.
Dusko picked up a glass of the same potent liquor that Tenevan was enjoying. “Why? For the best of all reasons, our price is half the rate you’re being extorted by the Combine traders.”
“There are relationships to consider,” Tenevan replied, sipping her drink and staring up at a hunting trophy of a vencala on the wall. The savage predator’s fur provided another part of our cargo.
“The Denlenn are known far and wide for their fair dealings and scrupulous sense of honor,” Dusko said. “Would that the universe returned the favor. The Elban Combine seems less concerned with fairness now that they have a monopoly on cargo runs here.”
“True,” Tenevan mused, stretching out her long, white-leather clad legs with a sigh. “Alas that winters here are so hard. My old bones are feeling the cold.”
“You don’t look old at all,” I said honestly. The Denlenn’s hair was similar to Jaelle’s, a rough mane of dark-brown, liberally shot through with silver, but her face was still smooth, thin-lipped and angular.
“Ah,” Tenevan said with a tinkling laugh. “You must be the charmer. He’s the negotiator and what about you?” She looked up at Jaelle, who’d adopted a similar relaxed pose.
“I’m the brains of the outfit,” Jaelle said.
Tenevan laughed again, but there was a calculating look in her eyes as she turned back to Dusko. “Some competition might be a good thing. Mine is a high value cargo. Using you would double my profits on this run. Very well, we are agreed on price. I see you have an insuran
ce bond.” She gestured toward the glow of a holo from the comp built into the wooden table. “Let’s execute the forms. You’ll be paid under the usual terms—part now, part on return of the delivery bond from Moroosh Port.”
There was a brisk flurry of signing, with Dusko using an assumed name as Stardust’s cargo master. Jaelle had insisted on changing the name from Misadventure or she guaranteed we’d see no cargo.
“You may have considerable trouble getting stevedores and cargo handlers,” Tenevan noted. “They are in on this arrangement with the Elban Combine.”
“We use high-end mechanicals for bulk loading and handling,” Dusko replied. “No need to be concerned.”
Tenevan finished her liquor and rose, touching hands with each of us. I found myself liking the older Denlenn female with her easy, confident manner.
“Fair trading and safe voyaging to you all,” she said in parting.
We sat back in our own chairs in relief. Tenevan’s cargo was the last and most valuable part of our current load. I blew out a breath. “God, I thought that would never get done.”
“One must always exhibit patience in trade. Given another day or two, I’d have pulled her down another five-percent,” Dusko said.
“Sometimes, it’s best to know when you’ve won. I don’t want to spend more time in any one place than we have to.” Jaelle said, as she paid the tab. She’d laundered all her funds into a new identity for herself. Since most of what we had was hers, she’d also become the ship’s purser.
Dusko gave a dry laugh. “Curious logic from a group of people who’ve made such a specialty of pressing their luck, but yes, Guild attention would be most unwelcome. Yet another reason to avoid the stevedores union.”
I grunted, not believing Dusko’s conversion to our team despite his evident enthusiasm. He still had a card to play, selling all of us to the Collector in return for his readmission to the Guild. Maybe he thought we were too dumb to see it.
We picked up our travel cloaks, the generic clothing accepted in most cultures as the sign of the traveler. We’d need them. As we walked out through the heat curtain of the lodge, a biting cold awaited us. It was near sunset and Frosteer’s weary orange sun was westering. It lit the underside of dark blue and gray clouds rolling off the heavily-forested mountains to the north of us.
My Outcast State (The Maauro Chronicles Book 1) Page 15