Skid

by Keith Fenwick

  It was sobering to realize that, while on earth advances in technology were being greeted as a means of freeing whole populations from the drudgery of work and to enhance democracy and nationalistic objectives, here on Skid the exact opposite was happening. Skid was a technological dictatorship; it was almost a wonder that computers or robots had not taken over completely because the place could obviously tick over without any Skidian involvement.

  Bruce’s thoughts strayed again to the unknown author of the account he had read, which ended by saying that Skid had paid an extraordinarily high price for its victory. The planet’s surface was covered with ash and other debris, barely a building was left standing or a living organism remained. On this note the account finished. Unsigned. Had its anonymous author survived or was this their last testament as they were entombed?

  As the center had been buried, Bruce thought it was likely the person had died there somewhere. “What a way to go,” he muttered, his own fate paling into insignificance. At least he was still alive.

  As Bruce finished reading Sue reappeared. “Here, have a look at this.” He shoved the notes across to her. Moodily he rose from the table and leaned against the rail surrounding the patio, gazing out over the jumble of houses that surrounded them. After several minutes, he turned to the table, poured himself some more coffee and rolled himself a cigarette.

  “Do you mind?” Sue snapped.

  “Look, if you don’t like my habits then you can just bugger off. This is my space.”

  Sue bowed her head and made a big issue out of waving the smoke away, as fat, silent tears rolled off her chin and made little pools of moisture on the table.

  Bruce did not even notice.

  Sixteen

  The rest of the day passed excruciatingly slowly for both of them. Sue failed to convince Bruce that a walk around the neighborhood might be a good idea, so she finally trotted off by herself, only to return quickly, remarking that she did not feel safe out alone.

  Bruce did not take the hint, which left Sue wondering why he was being so unreasonable. For his part, he did not see why he should do something just because Sue wanted him to. Would she jump into bed with him just because he thought it was a good idea?

  Cyprus did not appear, so Bruce spent his time drinking too much coffee, smoking too many cigarettes and becoming more irritable. At length it occurred to him to watch TV and he spent a few happy hours watching Stim games, amply supplied by Leaf with beer. However, after a few hours of continuous games the novelty had mostly worn off.

  Sue showed some interest in Stim, and Bruce tried to explain the game to her, unsuccessfully. It soon became apparent she was just as bored as he was. Her references to the fact that Stim, rugby, or whatever the game was called, looked like a bastardized form of American Football, and Bruce’s noisy disgust at this comment, undoubtedly contributed to her making herself scarce again for a while.

  While she tentatively began to explore the surrounding area, Bruce was content to remain slothful. Why worry? There was plenty of time. All the time in the world to look around the city. The whole planet, for that matter.

  Sue took the dogs with her, or once they were off, the dogs took her on a search and snuffle mission. For protection, she said, though the only Skidian they came into contact with was Leaf. The surrounding area was empty of Skidians, as if they were in quarantine. Bruce suspected they weren’t in quarantine at all. It was just that they probably spent most of their time roaming the beltway tunnels beneath their homes looking for something to do all day.

  After a day’s inactivity, when Cyprus had not shown up for the second morning in a row, as he had promised, Bruce decided he’d had enough. Spurring himself into gear he announced after a late breakfast that he was off for a wander around. His only problem was that he didn’t really want to go off by himself.

  Rather than admit this to Sue, he intimated instead that she might like to accompany him while he exercised the dogs.

  They had barely left the house when an aircraft landed silently beside them and the large, shambling figure of Sideshow emerged and waddled over.

  “Hello,” Bruce greeted her politely enough. “What are you up to? Are your plants growing yet?”

  Sideshow halted in her tracks and Bruce continued to snipe at her.

  “Going for a walk, eh? Do you good. Nice day for it, eh?” Let her catch up if she could. He was off.

  “Where are you going?” Sideshow wheezed, as she chased after him.

  “There and back to see how far it is,” Bruce chuckled facetiously, increasing his pace and leaving the two women behind.

  “I think she wants to talk to us,” Sue bleated. “Do you have to walk so fast?” Sue had developed an irritating habit of pointing out the obvious, which got right up his nose.

  “Geesh woman, you’ve been on at me to go for a walk and just when we get started you want to stop. Make your bloody mind up, will you?”

  Sideshow gawped at the offworlders and wondered what had upset them now.

  “Come on.”

  “Bruce!” Sue shrieked, worried that Sideshow might take offence.

  “What?” he asked innocently. “Oh all right. Don’t wet your pants about it.” Bruce thought he had made his point, whatever it was.

  Sideshow waddled up to them and took a minute or so to get her breathing under control. She was not used to any form of exercise and the brief chase had left her quite breathless. “I have been instructed by Toytoo to conduct you on a tour of Skid today,” she wheezed unhappily. Toytoo should have sent someone else; this sort of errand was an indignity for one of her seniority.

  “Sounds okay to me. What do you think, Sue?” Bruce thought Cyprus should have been taking him on a tour, “Mind you, he also said he’d do that yesterday,” he muttered.

  Sue shrugged her shoulders as if she could not care less.

  “Okay, Sideshow, I’ll come, but I don’t know about Sue. Come on, Punch, get up.”

  Bruce grabbed Punch by the scruff of his neck and threw him onto the floor of the aircraft where he cowered until it lifted off. The other two jumped in behind Bruce looking quite pleased with themselves. Like their boss, they did not believe in walking when they could ride. Sue did not really want to get in the aircraft, but given a choice between being left alone on the street and having some company, no matter how unfriendly, she decided on the latter.

  “Are we going to pick up Toytoo or Cyprus?” Bruce asked as the aircraft left Sietnuoc behind and headed out over the ‘wilderness’. “Get out of it, Cop.”

  Cop propped his front paws up on the rear of Bruce’s seat to get a better view and was slobbering into his ear. Bruce twisted in his seat and slapped the dog away. Cop was nothing if not a persistent fellow; he simply moved across to the pilot’s side of the cockpit and slobbered over Myfair’s neck, who was again their pilot. Doggy bliss for Cop.

  Neither Sideshow nor Myfair deigned to answer Bruce’s question. Myfair had been detailed to fly the offworlders about and that’s what he intended to do. Sideshow felt pretty much the same and was soon snoring loudly on a couch at the rear of the aircraft.

  Nobody had told Myfair where to fly, so he just flew away in the direction he had started. When he reached the limit of the aircraft’s range he would simply turn around and fly back again. That was the Skidian way and Myfair could not take it upon himself to do anything else, despite being considered a bit of a rebel and innovator.

  The whole exercise was undertaken with a lethargic disinterest, which disconcerted Bruce. Didn’t these people have any concern for the future of their planet, their own futures? Or was this air of detachment a cover for some other emotion that he was too insensitive to discern?

  “Can we go down for a closer look? Land, maybe?” Bruce pointed down as they flew over a great herd of ivops. With a shrug of his shoulders, as if it were a great imposition, Myfair landed the craft amongst the beasts.

  The ivops meandered out of the way, quite unconcerned at the
intruder dropping into their midst. A few of them glanced up without curiosity as Bruce disembarked and then resumed their grazing like a herd of satisfied dairy cows. Bruce stroked the nose of the nearest ivop, which after initially shying away, submitted to the caresses and then began to lick at his fingers with its rasp-like tongue. The rough massaging of his fingers sent a sensual tingle up Bruce’s spine that made him shiver.

  If these animals had endured whatever holocaust had befallen Skid in the past, then Bruce decided they must be incredibly tough creatures. This massive herd alone must have contained thousands if not hundreds of thousands of members. Perhaps the great herds of bison that had roamed the American West were once of a similar imposing size. It was a huge untapped source of food if the Skidians wanted to harvest it.

  Bruce called the dogs out and set them about the ivops. In response to the barking and nipping at their heels the ivops began to move, slowly rising to a trot, then suddenly stopping in their tracks as if they had decided there was no need to panic, that the dogs could not hurt them.

  “Plenty of feed here,” Bruce said, mostly to himself. “Plenty for you to eat as well,” he told Myfair as he retook his seat.

  Neither Myfair nor Sideshow showed any interest in what he had to say, preferring instead to gaze haughtily from their respective windows – Sideshow, because she still considered that showing the offworlders around Skid was a task beneath her and an unnecessary one to boot. And Myfair because he was far more interested in his next patrol mission to the far reaches of the universe. By the time he was scheduled to return, Skid’s fate would be sealed, one way or another.

  “But they’re alive, Bruce,” Sue pointed out, “and anyway, how do you know we can eat them?” Apparently Sue wasn’t keen on the idea of ivop meat either.

  “No worries. I’ll try it out on the dogs first.” Bruce regarded them for a moment, picking his nose thoughtfully, unaware that Sue did not find his logic reassuring.

  Still neither of the Skidians made any comment, though Bruce thought the disapproving look on Sideshow’s face meant there was no way she would eat any part of an ivop either, no matter how hungry. Well, she’d learn, Bruce thought. Either that or she’d fade away to a shadow.

  “Is that it?” Bruce wanted to know, as Myfair landed outside the house. All they’d been shown was a vast herd of ivops that they accidentally stumbled on, and very little else.

  “Yes,” Sideshow replied before they got off the aircraft, “and now we expect you to go to work and provide us with food.”

  “I don’t get it.” Bruce was more than a little confused; it didn’t seem to have occurred to the Skidians to let him know exactly what they wanted from him, unless that was also up to him. So without even recognizing it, Bruce and the Skidians were at cross purposes right from the beginning. Bruce waited for some operational guidelines, while the Skidians waited for him to do whatever he was going to do.

  “You know, Sue, I get the impression these people don’t really give a shit about their problems. It’s as if they expect someone else, meaning us, I suppose, to sort things out for them.”

  Sue shrugged her shoulders apathetically. “I’m sure you’re right.” She was just trying to be agreeable; she was not showing much enthusiasm either.

  What’s really going on here? Bruce asked himself, reviewing what he knew about Skid, which wasn’t much.

  “I suppose there’s not a lot of point living in the country if there’s no food to grow,” Bruce mused. So why wasn’t the wilderness used for fishing, hunting, tramping and other outdoor pursuits? Surely there were better things to do than sit under a shady tree, wander around the beltway all day in case an accident happened, or watch Stim games.

  Bruce started to wonder how the hell was he going to hack the place. The thought of spending the rest of his days here simply doing nothing wasn’t exactly enthralling. The future loomed before him, like a long, dark tunnel with no light at the end. At least I’m still alive. Got to be thankful for something, I suppose, Bruce thought as he walked into the house.

  “Beer!” he yelled, loud enough for Leaf to hear in the kitchen as he collapsed into a chair. It was not really a kitchen, more of a food reception room really, for nothing was cooked or prepared there. All food and drink was reticulated to the house through a series of pipes, like town supply water was at home. You only had to press a button and food was ejaculated from a dispenser like toothpaste.

  Leaf appeared with a large jug and carefully poured out two glasses, handing one to Bruce. He gulped most of the glass in one mouthful and belched contentedly. “Ah, that was good,” he sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes.

  “Cheers!” Sue said, slipping into the chair alongside.

  “Up yours. Transport, how and what?” he demanded of the tablet that sat on the table. It suddenly seemed imperative to have his own wheels so he could just bugger off when he felt like it, giving him an illusion of independence at least.

  “Personal transportation is available on request.”

  “What sort?”

  “Ground vehicles or aircraft?”

  “Describe a ground vehicle for me.” The tablet regurgitated a mass of technical data that lost Bruce after the first sentence. “Can I have one?” was all he wanted to know.

  “Certainly. I will see one is supplied forthwith.”

  It was apparently as easy as that.

  “You know, Sue, this place really baffles me.” Bruce considered the tablet, which was obviously more than just an information and communications appliance. “You can’t get any sense at all out of the Skidians but this tablet thing is a real mine of info.” He took another swig from the glass that Leaf had replenished. “It baffles me, you know,” he repeated inanely, unruffled by Leaf’s presence. He paused and Sue had to wait several moments for his next gem. “I know we haven’t been here long, and for sure we don’t know even a small part of what happens here, but there’s something really weird going on.”

  “How do you mean?” Sue asked, groaning inwardly. Not this again.

  “Well, for instance, if you were faced by the prospect of famine, wouldn’t you be trying to do something about it?”

  “Yeah. I suppose so,” Sue conceded, not having given the matter much thought.

  “Right, so the Skidians,” Bruce was warming himself up, “whip down to earth in their spaceship, pick us up, tell us they need our help and then practically abandon us. Interesting, eh?”

  “But at least they have tried, even if they don’t know what they’re trying to do. You’ve got to give them that much credit. Perhaps they don’t know what sort of help they want from us.”

  “What? So why bother us in the first place? Shit for brains, that’s all I can say. So what are we doing here?”

  “I’m not sure, yet,” Sue replied thoughtfully, “but one thing’s for certain, I’m not going to sit on my backside and feel sorry for myself.”

  Bruce realized Sue was trying to be assertive. Occasionally she gave the impression she was going to be her own woman. However, Bruce could see right through her. If she was so tough why couldn’t she cope with living by herself? He yawned and decided that he’d rather watch television, even Skidian television, than talk to Sue.

  Seventeen

  Before Bruce had managed to get comfortable in front of the television Leaf ushered Cyprus into the room.

  “Hrrmph!” Cyprus cleared his throat to attract Bruce’s attention. Thinking it was only Sue, Bruce ignored him. “Bruce,” Cyprus tried again.

  “Yes,” he said, turning his head.

  “Are you serious about wishing to be involved in a Stim event?” Cyprus asked.

  “Sure. When? Now?”

  “The Murd organization with which I have an association is having a trial today and have agreed to let you be involved.”

  “Yep, certainly.”

  “May I come too?” Sue asked diffidently.

  Bruce couldn’t think why she would want to, given her obvious lack o
f interest in the game. It did not occur to Bruce that although Sue thought he was an ill-mannered, insensitive oaf, she might be terrified at the prospect of letting him out of her sight. She was scared to death at the prospect of being left by herself at the mercy of the Skidians.

  “If it pleases you.” Cyprus did not seem to care what Sue did either way.

  To Bruce’s surprise the stadium was almost full for the game, something he hadn’t expected for a trial match.

  Bruce met the team and their coach in the dressing room. Nobody said much to him, though the coach did wish him well and pointed him in the direction of a locker. Maybe they were just shy or something, Bruce thought. Inside the locker hung a jersey with a number nine on the back. How can they have known that? Bruce wondered, pulling it over his head.

  The team talk wasn’t stirring, nor was the team plan revealed to him. Bruce thought the others must have it down pat and had simply omitted to tell him as that seemed to be the Skidian way. There was no last-minute dissemination of the opposition’s known strengths and weaknesses. Nothing.

  Nor did the coach bring the team to a fever pitch of excitement, incite them to go out and take the opposition apart or give them license to more or less commit mayhem or murder, as some of Bruce’s earthbound coaches had been prone to do for motivational purposes.

  It struck Bruce that the team was just going to go through the motions. There wasn’t any tension or pent-up excitement apparent in the men around him. None of them looked particularly fit or athletic for that matter either. The opposition team, when they trotted out onto the field, looked equally unimpressive, though they were certainly big. Still, he felt the adrenaline pumping through his own veins and was looking forward to working out some of his repressed frustrations and anger on the field.