“Three miles is a long way to ask a stretcher team to carry someone,” Carl said. “Couldn’t we come in closer?”
“If you know a good site that will be deserted,” Alyssaunde said. “Just direct me in.”
The last glow of the setting sun was just fading out to the left. The Little Moon was already visible, racing across the sky, now almost directly overhead. The long shadows were dissolving into each other and all below was turning black.
“I can’t see,” Carl said.
Alyssaunde reached forward with one slender forefinger and tapped two buttons on her control panel. “Look through the view-glass,” she said.
Carl was about to ask where the view-glass was when the question became unnecessary. One large rectangular section of the glass window between the seats had become different from the surrounding glass. Through it the ground below now looked brightly visible, almost shiny, although the colors seemed to have been shifted toward the red. The rest of the glass still showed the same old dark landscape.
“How does that work?” Carl asked.
“That’s what I meant to do when I blinded you last night,” Alyssaunde told him. “A pair of ultraviolet spotlights are illuminating the ground below. Of course you can’t see ultraviolet. That view-glass changes the ultraviolet to light in the visible spectrum.”
The only trouble with the explanation, Carl decided, was that he didn’t understand any of the key words. Ultraviolet? Spectrum? But that would wait. Alyssaunde seemed to enjoy explaining things to him, even if she did do it with the air of one talking to a dull four-year-old. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know any of this stuff. You can’t learn something you don’t know exists. He busied himself staring through the view-glass and trying to decide where to have her let him off.
“Over there,” Carl said after a few minutes. “On the far side of that ridge of rocks. It’s the perfect place. No one ever goes up there, but there’s a path that goes right by down at the base. While you go back to the bivouac I’ll climb down and meet them at the bottom by the path.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Alyssaunde insisted. “You don’t seem to understand how cut up you are. Any amount of exertion will open those cuts again and you’ll bleed to death before they can get to you.”
“You make a good case,” Carl told her. “OK, I’ll sit quietly and let them climb over and get me.”
“That’s good,” Alyssaunde said. She carefully piloted the flittercraft over the rock ridge and set it down at a clear space on the far side. “Between the rocks and the trees,” she said, “it’s hard to find a place to set down.”
Carl surveyed the thick woods surrounding them on three sides and the wall of rock on the fourth. “You did very well,” he said. “The only problem is going to be explaining how I ended up here and how you happened to spot me.”
“No one will think to ask,” Alyssaunde assured him. “And if they do, I’ll tell them that it’s none of their business.”
“You can do that,” Carl admitted.
“You just tell them that you have no idea how you got here,” Alyssaunde told Carl. “You wandered about after you were wounded.”
“That’s another point,” Carl said. “How did I come to be, um, bandaged?”
“A good question,” Alyssaunde said, resting her chin in her hands. “How indeed. You’ll have to tell them you did it yourself, if they ask. Those are standard pack bandages. I believe the medication I used is, ah, unusual in your culture, but nobody will notice that.”
“I did it myself,” Carl agreed, staring at his carefully wrapped chest and shoulder. “I certainly did. Again I thank you, miz. You’d better let me out now.”
Alyssaunde opened the port and climbed out with Carl. “Don’t move around much after I leave,” she said, “or the wounds may reopen.”
“I’ll lie here as still as any small child,” Carl promised.
“Ye’ll both get back into yon flying contraption,” a harsh voice behind them interrupted, “or ye’ll not be going anywhere henceforth!”
They turned. Two men in foppishly brilliant costumes that Carl was unfamiliar with stood behind them. Both men pointed large-mouthed handguns of an unusual pattern at them. One of the men was very short, and the other unusually tall, but they both looked very serious.
“Hop it!” the small one directed.
Chapter Six
Carl’s first thought was to rush the men (after all there were only two of them), but he realized that he was probably incapable of even walking slowly over to where they were standing, much less rushing them. And he had no sword. Carl had little experience of guns, and wasn’t overly afraid of them. The projectile weapons he was acquainted with were good for hitting birds with pellets at distances of up to a hundred feet, with poor accuracy, on the one out of three times they would fire at first attempt. But in his present condition the men could have merely waved the bell-shaped weapons at him and he would have been blown over by the breeze. Carl raised his hands.
“Sensible attitude,” the taller man remarked. “And you, little lady?”
Alyssaunde was clearly indecisive; torn between running back into the ship, running off into the woods, or merely standing where she was and spitting at the two men. “What do you want?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.
“A little cooperation,” the tall man said.
“Yer ship,” the short one amended, “and yerself to drive it.”
“Where’d you come from?” Carl asked. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“We’ll have plenty of time to discuss such weighty matters once we are aflight,” the tall man said, waving his gun around in a vague circle. “Shall we board?”
Alyssaunde, at that moment, made up her mind and dashed for the woods, her slim body low to the ground and her legs pumping furiously. When that girl make a decision, Carl reflected, she goes all out.
“Mr. O’Malley,” the tall man said, “would you mind?”
“Not at all,” the short man replied, and took off after Alyssaunde. He didn’t look nearly as graceful when he moved, but he was all business and no wasted energy.
The tall man waved his ponderous weapon at Carl. “We have you,” he observed.
“When I recover from my wounds,” Carl said, “you will do me the honor of discussing this situation with me over a pair of blades.”
“I doubt it,” the tall man said, “but thank you for asking. Now get aboard the flitter. If the young lady eludes O’Malley, we’ll have to leave as quickly as possible.”
“What do you want me for?” Carl asked. “I can be of no use to you along, and can do you no damage if you leave me here.”
“We need you to drive the craft,” the tall man said.
Carl thought about that for a minute. Then he began to laugh. “Me?” he said. “If it were a horse I could handle it well, but I know nothing about the operation of these flitterboats.”
“You conning me?” the tall man demanded.
Carl shook his head. “By the two moons,” he said, “you have my word.” He raised his right hand, three fingers extended, and X’d his chest with his left hand.
“By the two moons,” the tall man said. “And I have a feeling that you’re just the sort of boob who’d consider that a binding oath.” He raised his voice and stated, “O’Malley, we need her, don’t let her evade your capacious grasp.”
A crashing sound answered his hail. Then a series of crashing sounds. Then silence. Then a scream.
Carl started forward, but there was nothing he could do: he was too weak, and the tall man had the gun.
The crashing noises resumed, and about half a minute later O’Malley appeared between two trees carrying Alyssaunde in both arms. Her hands were pinioned to her sides by his arms, and she was struggling and kicking her feet in a vain attempt to work loose. She was muttering something in a steady undertone, too softly for Carl to make out the words.
“She screamed?” the tall man asked, amused.<
br />
“None of it,” the small man answered. “I screamed. She bit me.”
The tall man laughed. “O’Malley,” he said, “you’ll just have to learn to be more careful. They will bite if you let them.”
“Let me down!” Alyssaunde demanded, twisting herself around in the little man’s grasp.
“Of course,” the man agreed, setting her gently on the ground. “Ye’ll not be trying to run away again, is it? Aha! And it isn’t,” he said, grabbing Alyssaunde again as she promptly tried to head off to the trees. “Now if ye want me to let ye loose, ye’ll have to stay put.”
“All right,” Alyssaunde yelled, shaking herself free of his grasp. “But you’ll suffer for this.”
“My dear lady,” the tall man said. “You must realize that we suffer already, or we would not be driven to such extreme measures. Now if you would please enter the flitterboat, we will be on our way.”
Alyssaunde glared at him and stalked over to the flitter.
“Aha!” the little man said, leaping to follow her. “I’d best be along with ye as ye close the port, elsewise we might just be left outside.”
Alyssaunde was rigid with suppressed rage. “That had occurred to me,” she said.
“Now you wouldn’t have left your friend behind,” the tall man said.
“We both know that you wouldn’t have dared harm him if I’d got safely away,” Alyssaunde said.
“Good thinking,” the tall man agreed. “In this case it’s not true, but it is good thinking.”
They went up the ramp, Alyssaunde first, O’Malley close behind, and the rest following. When they were in, the tall man pressed the plate that closed the port and retracted the ramp.
“You see,” he said, “I’ve been in these flitter machines before. I know where things are.”
“Then what do you want me for?” Alyssaunde asked icily.
“I don’t know how to fly the craft,” the tall man told her. “But you don’t know what parts of it I don’t know, so I wouldn’t do anything overtly foolish if I were you.”
“You can push me around,” Alyssaunde said, “for the moment; you’re bigger than I. But please don’t give me advice.”
The tall man thought this over while seating himself in one of the rear observer seats. “You’re right,” he said. “It is one thing to give you orders out of my own necessity, it is quite another to give you advice. I order you to get this thing in the air.”
Alyssaunde settled carefully into the pilot’s seat. O’Malley waved Carl into the seat beside her so that he and his companion could stay behind them. Carl reached over to take Alyssaunde’s hand, to try to reassure her silently, and tell her that he would help if he could. Alyssaunde impatiently shook his hand off. With a twist of the control rods, she boosted the flitterboat high into the air.
“A good start,” the tall man said. “Now if you would do me the favor of heading west, I would be in your debt.”
“West,” Alyssaunde said, flipping a few switches, pushing a few buttons, and pulling back on a few control rods. The boat curved smoothly around and headed off in a new direction. The tall man checked the control panel and seemed satisfied. “Thank you,” he said.
“You can’t escape,” Alyssaunde said. “I have no idea what you have in mind, but the Inspectors will pick you up wherever you go.”
“They been trying these past two months,” O’Malley said, “and they ain’t got us yet.”
“We have little option,” the tall man said. “They chase us and we flee. Eventually either they will catch us or we will escape.”
“Or you’ll be killed,” Alyssaunde said.
The tall man shrugged. “That is a form of escape,” he said.
“Is there anything to eat aboard this craft?” the small man asked.
“No,” Alyssaunde said.
The tall man reached behind him and palmed open a sliding door. The compartment revealed was filled with small aluminum trays with white plastic seals over the tops. He pulled one out and handed it to O’Malley. “Pull the tab,” he said.
O’Malley pulled the tab on the side of the tray. It ran around three sides, and then the plastic top popped off. The tray was compartmented inside, and a different food was in each compartment: meat, a green vegetable of some leafy variety, rice, and what looked like a pudding. After it had been opened a few seconds a wisp of steam came up from the vegetable, then the whole tray was enveloped in a steam haze, which took about thirty seconds to clear away.
O’Malley poked cautiously at the meat. “Hot,” he said. “I’ve never seen a thing like that before.”
“It’s an exothermic chemical reaction,” the tall man said.
“Aye, but is it safe to eat?” O’Malley inquired.
The tall man shrugged. “Safe enough,” he said. “What are you worried about? The whole Inspector Force over the whole planet is after us, and you’re worried about whether that’s safe to eat?”
“I mistrust these artificial things,” O’Malley said. “Food doesn’t grow surrounded by tinfoil.” He unsnapped the fork from the side of the tray and cautiously tasted the steaming food. He chewed it silently and speculatively for a minute before swallowing and taking the next bite. “Good,” he finally pronounced.
“Good?” the tall man asked.
“Aye, for artificial food.”
The tall man took another tray out, but then paused before unsnapping the tab. “I forget my manners,” he said. “After all, I am host. Would either of you, ah, guests, like a tray?”
“Yes, thank you,” Carl said. The tall man handed him one from the cabinet.
“Nice of you to offer me my own food,” Alyssaunde said.
“Come on,” the tall man said. “These flitters are all equipped with full supply cabinets before you take them out. The rental’s the same by the day regardless of the supplies you use.”
“You seem to know a fair amount about how the Guest Bureau works,” Alyssaunde said.
“I do,” the man agreed. “The unfortunate thing is that my training didn’t go far enough. I learned how to service the things, but never how to fly them. It was discouraged, you understand. I’m sure you understand. You’re a five, aren’t you?”
“A five?” Carl asked.
“It’s clear that you’re not,” the tall man said, “but the young lady—”
“I am,” Alyssaunde agreed. “And I’ll take a tray.”
“What is a five?” Carl demanded.
“One of the ruling class,” the tall man told him. “One of the five in a thousand that has any say on what’s going on in this segmented world of ours.”
“I don’t understand,” Carl said.
The tall man handed Alyssaunde a tray. “Ask her to explain,” he said.
Alyssaunde opened her tray and ate from it silently, watching the two men in the rear seats. “Who are you?” she asked finally. “What are you running from, and what do you want?”
The tall man nodded at his friend. “This is Mr. O’Malley,” he said between forkfuls, “and I am Mr. Arthur.”
“My moniker is Different O’Malley,” the little man said. “And this here’s Chester A. Arthur. We’re pleased to make yer acquaintance. And who are yerselves?”
“Lance Corporal Carl Frederic Allan,” Carl said.
“Alyssaunde,” said Alyssaunde.
“A pleasure,” Chester A. Arthur said. “There’s no reason we can’t be sociable during our brief sojourn together.”
Alyssaunde put her tray down. “I admit that I’ve never been kidnapped at gunpoint before,” she said, “so I may not be up on the proprieties, but I don’t think it’s required to be sociable with your kidnapper.”
“I wish you wouldn’t think of this as a kidnapping, Miz Alyssaunde,” Chester A. Arthur said. “We are merely borrowing your piloting abilities for a while. We are not thieves or crooks, Miz Alyssaunde, we are renegades. We merely wish to escape the clutches of this society. If we could figure a way to leave this
planet instead of merely fleeing to the Outlands, we would surely do that.”
“You must have done something,” Alyssaunde said, “committed some crime, or the Inspectors wouldn’t be after you.”
“That is a simplistic view of the universe,” Chester A. Arthur said. “Let me tell you about O’Malley and his crime. My friend here belongs to Sector Three, Area Five, which might not mean much to you, but he called it home. It was an analogue of Great Britain during the early Middle Ages, with a hereditary King John, and a hereditary Robin Hood, but mostly just simple artisans and craftsmen who sold their wares at the perennial village fairs that the Guests are so fond of attending.”
Alyssaunde nodded at this. “I’ve been there,” she said.
“So,” Chester said.
Carl followed most of the description, except for the names. He just sat quietly and listened. Clearly there was a lot about his own world that he didn’t know.
“O’Malley is a hunter,” Chester continued. “An expert with the longbow, and no slouch with the hunting ax. His hunting party—four of you, was it?”
“Aye, four,” O’Malley said.
“Four of them supplied meat to a few of the local villages. Then one day about a year ago they were out in the wood pursuing a great stag when a storm came up and they were forced to take shelter on some high ground. The storm lasted for about two days, completely washing out the trail they had been following. So they went around the long way, into an area of the wood unfamiliar to them.
“After a while they found a path, and they followed it. It led out of the wood and to a great paved road, the like of which they’d never seen. So they followed the road. Once and a while strange vehicles, like wagons with neither traces nor horses to pull them, came by on the road—”
“Great wains,” O’Malley said. “They made a fearsome sound. Some could have carried a cottage inside.”
“They didn’t stop,” Chester continued. “So the party continued walking. After three or four hours walking they came to a great village, with stone houses many stories tall.”
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