"Sam, how long were we off the road before this run?" "Christ, I don't know. Couple of months. Why?" "Couple of months to bring in the harvest back at the farm, right? And to do some necessary business. Before that, where were we?"
"Hydran Maze, pleading with those waterbags not to tear up the Guild Basic and go over to Wilkes." "How long?"
"Don't remind me. Seemed like years, waiting three weeks at a time for some bureaucrat to get over her estrous cycle so we could get an appointment. How long? Another three months, all told."
"Sam, your antialien prejudice is showing."
"Not at all. I'm just pissed, is all."
"Six months off the road," I said. "Okay, here's Crackpot Theory Number One. Somehow, we get out of this mess. With Winnie's help, we find our way back, but we do a Timer. We luck onto a backtime route and return to T-Maze before we leave… about six months before we leave. Word gets around somehow. There's a map; get the map, everybody says. Everybody wants the goddamn thing. And some combination of Wilkes, the Authority, the Reticulans, and the Ryxx is aiming to get it… somehow. Our future selves stay low until the heat's off. They know better, leaving us to get chased."
"You'd think they'd have the decency to fill us in."
"They may have their reasons. Anyway, we run, find Winnie, leave the Maze, get into a mess, get out of it, go back in time, etcetera. That's the Paradox. Somehow, it all has to work."
"How many somehows was that? I lost count."
"Too many, but I'm ready for Crackpot Theory Number Two, if you've got it." '
"I don't. I've got one more big confusion, though."
"Which is?"
"Why the hell didn't they just grab us back in T-Maze and beat the merte out of us until we handed it over? We didn't have anything, but they didn't know that."
"They're smart. They're aware of the Paradox. Wilkes as much as pointed it out to me back at Sonny's. They're reasoning that I got the map at some point along the journey, but they don't know exactly where. So they wait until it looks like we deliberately slip through a hope-to-Jesus hole." I took a deep breath. "Well, what do you think?" I asked, knowing he'd been playing devil's advocate all along.
"Well, I've never knowingly bought a crock of excrement before, but I'll buy yours if you answer one more question. To wit: if we have the map already.. 1 mean our future selves, of course… if we've already returned six months ago with the thing, or with Winnie or whatever, why in the name of all that's holy are they trying to get it now? It's done, finished. How can they hope to change what's happened?"
"That's a tough one. Would you still buy my crock if I told you I had no idea?"
"Yeah, but I'm gullible."
"Got anything else from the file?"
"Well, under 'Colonial Assembly' I got the usual pile of nonnews, except for one item that cross-referenced with 'intelligence.'"
"Give it to me."
"I'll digest it. It's about two Assemblymen ― actually a man and a woman ― being suspended by the Authority pending an investigation into their part in activities which've been deemed by the Authority to be outside the bounds of the Assembly's proper sphere of concern. Probably wanted to wipe their asses without having to petition the Authority in writing first."
"How did it cross-reference with 'intelligence'?"
"The information was based on Militia intelligence reports."
"Sounds like a smoke screen ― the story, I mean. Got any background on it?"
"A bit. If you remember a while back, there was some roadbuzz about a secret intelligence cell within the Assembly. Undercover operatives, special operations, that sort of thing. The funds for it were supposed to've been disguised as temporary staff salaries for a couple of investigative committees."
"Wow. Who leaked all that?"
"Authority plants in the Assembly, of course. They carry on a loose-lip campaign in cocktail bars and bedrooms; and when the story gets widely circulated, the Authority acts. That way the plants don't blow their cover. For good measure, the Authority may have had a spy right in the cell."
"Double agent?"
"Right."
"Okay." I sat up on the bed. "Sam, you did a good job. We have one more piece of the puzzle. Right now I don't know where it fits, but it's a big one. Talk to you later."
"Report in regularly, will you?"
"Sure." I got up and went to the connecting hatch, put my ear against it. Roland, John, and Darla were talking quietly next door.
I turned to Winnie and said, "Let's you and me go for a little walk, honey."
16
Without hesitation, she followed me to the hatch. We went out into the hallway after I'd checked it out. I closed the hatch softly. She took my hand, her double-thumbed grip feeling strange but firm and trusting, and we walked along the red-carpeted, gold-papered hallway. I'd never been on a true water-displacing vessel of this size, but it reminded me of pictures of old Terran buildings. There was a feeling of space here, none of the economicah crampedness you'd expect, let alone the nightmarish claustrophobia of a deep-space ship. And from what I'd seen of this Outworld maze, the ship seemed out of place in its luxuriousness. As we neared the lobby area I discovered the reason for its affluence. There was a casino. I didn't stop to gawk, but I caught a glimpse of lots of action, chips flowing at dozens of tables where every game in town was being played. There were aliens in there too.
Before going into the still-crowded lobby, I parked Winnie in a small room full of food-dispensing machines, hiding her behind one of them. I told her to wait until I got back. At the desk, I asked the clerk where the crew quarters were. He gave me a puzzled look before he answered me politely, and I wondered briefly if the "fraternization" proscription that Krause had mentioned was really true. But the clerk didn't ask for my reasons. He showed me a deck plan of the boat and indicated the crew's quarters in the stem end of C Deck, the lowest of the three.
"Are you looking for someone in particular, sir?"
"Yeah, a girl. Young, about this high, short blondish hair, on the thin side."
He thought for a moment. "Oh, I think that's Lorelei. Pretty sure that's the one. She's a belowdecks mate, but we should be all squared away down there by now. We're about to put to sea, and she should be off-duty."
"Fine. Thanks." I went back and got Winnie.
It was good to get out of the lobby and into relatively quiet corridors. I felt conspicuous, especially with Winnie, and kept my eyes peeled for a familiar face. None showed. I still felt edgy, but thought I'd risk a tour on deck. I wanted to see how they got the monster out of the harbor.
We went through an undogged hatch out onto a deserted part of the outer forward deck. It was a recreation area, with games painted on the wood decking, canvas chairs stacked by the bulkhead, a few tables under umbrellas. We stood at the railing and watched as the ship-animal retreated from shore-backwards, trailing a wake of bubbling water. A smaller complement of beaters was on duty at the bow, but there were still at least fifty of them, slapping out a slow rhythm. It must have been a delicate bit of seamanship; the beats were measured and deliberate. We were halfway out of the harbor, leaving behind a deserted island back-lit by a smoldering orange sun. It looked as if the island were moving away, and not us. Below, I could see most of the upper surface of the beast. Seal-creatures were all over the place, dragging piles of seaweed with their forward flippers, popping in and out of the dome-structures, generally going about their appointed tasks, whatever they were. I could see that the resemblance to Terran seals was superficial. The heads were bigger and the wrinkled faces flatter, with not much of a snout. And the eyes were strange. It was a little too far to tell, but it looked as though they might be structurally similar to the beast-eye we'd seen.
We were on the upper main deck, but above us was a poop deck where the bridge was. Officers leaned over the rails watching the ship's progress. I wondered how the bridge was relaying orders to the pilot-musicians, or if the bridge was giving orders at all.
True, a captain hands the conn over to the pilot when entering or leaving harbor, but what about in open sea?
I felt eyes on me, and looked toward the starboard flying bridge. A stocky, bearded man in a gold uniform was staring at me. The captain. No, not actually staring ― appraising, sizing me up, the shiny visor of his cap starred with sunlight. I couldn't see his eyes, but I felt their clinical gaze.
I took Winnie's hand and we went back inside. We took a long trek through the ship, avoiding main areas of activity. We passed near a dining area filling up with hungry patrons, went by a ballroom, a darkened theater, skirted the trade and shopping deck, and then found a narrow stairway that led all the way down to C Deck. Below, we encountered an empty six-bed infirmary looking very underequipped, found lockers, storerooms, and strangely enough, a sign that read TOPSIDE HOLDS 5-10. I had thought that cargo would be shipped belowdecks, but some items were probably too fragile for beast-gizzards.
We finally came to the crew quarters. I looked around, found a maintenance closet full of mops and pails, and told Winnie to wait inside. She looked at me nervously, then crept inside and sat in a comer, her big eyes glowing in the shadows. I whispered to her reassuringly, telling her I'd be right back and not to be afraid. I hoped she understood ― but then, my communication problem with her seemed to be one-way, with me having all the trouble.
The crew area was divided up into little cabins of four or five bunks each. Most of the hatches were closed, but I saw a few sailors racked out on their bunks, asleep. It had been a long watch. Luckily, there were name plates listing the occupants of each cabin; perversely, only first initials and surnames were used. Think of asking for her last name? Not you, Jake. I took a stroll through the maze of passages, squinting in the dim light. I found a total of four L. Somebodys. Lorelei Mikhailovich? Not likely, but you never know. Lorelei Sou-phanouvong? Improbable. That narrowed it to two, L. Fin-kelhor and L. Peters. Peters it is. I knocked.
A muffled reply. I knocked again. Grumbling and general complaining.
The hatch opened and there was Lorelei looking bleary-eyed in a tattered blue robe. "Yes?" She squinted at me. "Who're you?"
"Is my face that forgettable?"
After a second, it hit her. "Oh, yeah, the truckie." Her eyes grew wary. "What do you want?"
"A favor… and a chance to appeal to your conscience."
"Huh?"
"I'm in a spot, and I need your help."
She frowned, puzzled, then shrugged. "Come in, then," she said, widening the hatch.
"First I want to show you something. Or rather someone."
"Who?" she wanted to know. "Hey, where're you going?"
"Want you to meet a friend of mine," I said, walking down the hall. I stopped and beckoned. "Come on."
"I'm not sure I should," she said sourly. "Aren't you the one that was going to stick a torch up my behind?"
I was about to explain that I'd mistaken her for a man, but caught that faux pas by its ugly little tail before it scampered out. "Sorry about that. I was jittery as hell. First time I ever parked inside a sea monster."
This mollified her somewhat. She stepped out into the passageway. "Okay, but any weird stuff and I scream rape. You won't like what happens to you after that."
Probably not. She followed me at a good distance. I got to the closet, opened the door. This made Lorelei stop and eye me all the more distrustingly.
"Okay, Winnie," I called.
When Winnie peeked around the bulkhead, Lorelei came out of her tough-cynical character like a fresh pea from a wrinkled pod, suddenly all girlish smile and looking even younger than I first thought her to be. The smile looked much better on her than her usual sullen pout.
"Oh, isn't she cute!" Lorelei beamed. "It is a she, isn't it? Where'd she come from?"
"Winnie," I said, pointing, "this is Lorelei."
"Hi, Winnie!"
"Hi! Hi!"
"Winnie comes from a planet named Hothouse. Ever hear of it?"
She came forward and stroked Winnie's head, feeling the thick glossy fur. "No. Is that back in T-Maze?"
"Yes. Were you born here? I mean, in the Outworids?"
"Uh-huh. Look at those ears. Oh, she's darling. Is she yours?"
"Uh… Winnie's not a pet. She's a person ― but, yes, she's traveling with me and I'm responsible for her. How would you like to look after her for me?"
Lorelei giggled. Winnie seemed to be fascinated with the color and texture of Lorelei's robe, fingering and sniffing the cloth. "Oh, I wouldn't mind…." she began, then bit her lip. "Gee, I don't know. I'm pulling double-duty all this run. We're shorthanded, and I don't know when I'd get the time."
"You won't need much. Winnie's able to take care of herself. Actually, I had something specific in mind."
"What's that?" Then, remembering, she said, "Didn't you say you were in trouble?"
"Winnie's the one who's in trouble."
"She is?"
"Yes. I want you to hide her. You must know every nook and cranny of this ship, places where she could stay without anyone discovering her. Right?"
"Well, yeah, but why?"
"Lorelei, there are people on this boat who want to kidnap Winnie. Maybe worse. She's in great danger."
She was shocked. "Who'd want to hurt her? And why, for God's sake?"
"It's difficult to explain, but basically the situation is this. Winnie has some valuable information, and these people want it badly. And to get it, they need to get her."
Lorelei put a protective arm around Winnie's shoulders. "She has information? What could she know that anyone would―?"
"Winnie's a very intelligent creature. Don't let her looks fool you. As I said, she's a person, not an animal."
"Hm." She looked at me skeptically, a little of the cynicism returning. "How do I know you haven't kidnapped her?"
"Ask Winnie."
She screwed up her face to make a snide retort, but thought better of it. She bent over toward Winnie and pointed to me. "Is he your friend, Winnie? That man there. Friend?"
Winnie turned to me and smiled adoringly. "Fwenn!" she said and reached over to clutch my hand. "Jake fwenn!" She nuzzled my arm. "Fwenn fwenn fwenn! Jake-fwenn!" I was only a little embarrassed.
Lorelei grinned sheepishly. "I guess you're not fooling!"
She straightened up and stuck out a smudged hand. "Glad to meet you, Jake."
I took her hand, then heard voices in the adjoining corridor. "Quick, in here," I whispered. We piled into the closet.
When the two sailors had gone I said, "What do you say, Lorelei? Will you help us out?"
"Sure. I know just the place, too. I can bring her food and water when I'm off-duty… but she'll have to keep quiet and not fuss."
"Winnie doesn't fuss. She'll behave." I thought of something. "Food's going to be a problem, though. She needs food from her planet, special food, like all aliens. Like us, too." I sighed and leaned against the bulkhead. "No help for it, I guess. Unless…" Well, there was a slight possibility. "Lorelei, is there any crewman who might be from Hothouse? He might know of substitute foods, things that are all right for Winnie to eat. Biochemistry is funny that way. Is everyone in the crew a native Outworlder?"
"No, there're plenty who lucked through, but I never heard anyone say they were from Hothouse."
"Hm. How about Demeter? That's the fancy name for the place. No? Anyone ever mention they hailed from Mach City? It's the biggest city."
"No, not that I…" In the bands of light coming through the louvered door I saw her massage her forehead with her palm. "Mach City. Wait a minute. Where've I seen that before?"
"You've seen it?"
"Yeah, somewhere, written on something. Damn it, I can't remember where the punk it was." She snapped her fingers. "Oh, yeah! It was marked on a crate we brought up from belowdecks."
"Cargo?"
"Yeah. We put it in a topside hold. Special class stuff. The crate wasn't marked, but some of the boards came off on one o
f them in the freight elevator. There were big bales of stuff inside, leaves and stuff, wrapped with plastic bands, and on the bands there was a name. Some company… don't remember what it was, something about chemicals, but it said Mach City. It was in System, Polla dey Mach. I remember 'cause I asked where Match City was, and Lany ― he works with me ― he says, 'You dummy, it's Mock City.'" He's a punkin' moron… but he's cute. Anyway, that's how I remember. We brought up a lot of those crates."
Well. Well, well, well. "Lorelei, is there any way we can get at those crates?"
"Sure. The holds are locked, but that's no problem for me. Why?"
"Possibility that Winnie might be able to eat some of that stuff. It's also a good bet that…" A good bet? Sucker bet. I knew what the bales contained. "Lorelei, look―"
"Call me Lori."
"Lori. I might not be able to get down here again soon. Could you take Winnie into the hold tonight and open one of those crates? Let Winnie hunt around in there for a while. She may find something to eat. She'll know what she can or can't consume."
"Uh-huh. I can do that."
"Good. Now, can you get her into hiding right away?"
"Yeah, but I'll have to be careful."
"Do you want to wait until tonight? Keep her in your cabin until then?"
"Not really. I have bunkmates, you know."
"Can you trust them?"
"Two I can, but the other one's a blabbermouth."
"Then you'd better take her now. And another thing," I said, wondering if this decision was wise, "don't tell me where you're keeping her."
She was surprised. "Not tell you?"
"I think it best, but it could put you in some danger. Are you still willing?"
"I can take care of myself," she said evenly.
"I think you can. And I really don't think these people will want to mess with a crewmember. It'd make too much trouble for them." I felt for Winnie in the dark. She found my hand and grasped it, and I squatted down and said, "Winnie, I want you to go with Lori here. You go with her, okay? She'll put you in a nice place where you can sleep. You'll be alone, but you won't be afraid. Jake will come get you later." Her grip tightened. "No, I won't forget you, Winnie. But you must be very quiet and be a good girl. Lori will come to visit you and take you to get food. But you mustn't be afraid. Understand? Nothing will happen to you. No one will hurt you. Okay?"
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