by S. J. Higbee
I was more than grateful for his steadying arm, his long legs effortlessly keeping pace with my slightly tottering marchstep. For starters, I hadn’t been out of my room. Not while conscious, anyhow. My assumption that all that greenery lining the walls in my room was a welcoming touch for the homesick human was wrong. The corridor was also lined with plants, with soil underfoot. I could even hear the droning of insects and caught the flicker of butterflies as we made our way in a snaking circle to wherever we were going.
“How d’you know the way?” I muttered.
“It doesn’t lead anywhere else.”
“Look at the weight this corridor is carrying, with all the dirt and shrubbery. And yet, we know the ship moves faster than anything we’ve got. So what tech have they got that power to weight ratios don’t matter?” While I was interested in the answer, the main reason I was in babble-mode was that it kept me from thinking too much about having to face Cheeseface—
Though if I’m sharing a meal with him, it might be a smart notion to start calling him Cheetshzay. Don’t reckon it’ll exactly smooth inter-species relations if Wynn’s nickname for the drosser slips out… My memory of that thought as Wynn opened the door is pin sharp.
As he took my arm again, I stopped. “What’re you doing? You can’t come with me!”
“You’ve had one tap on the head too many if you think I’m gonna sit outside while you face whatever is waiting for you on the other side of the door.” Wynn’s voice was hard, “Last time around took waaay too many years off my life, for starters. And I mightn’t be a fighter, but I’m no yellow streak of water, either. And that’s what I’d be if I let you face Cheeseface alone again.”
I blinked, my eyes watering on account of the stink of greenery. “I don’t know what to say…ˮ
“Thanks, Wynn, is what you say. And then hold out your arm and walk nice and slow so I can keep in time. Remember I’m a newbie at all this soldierstep business…”
For once I was out of snappy rejoinders. So did as I was told and allowed Wynn to march into the room alongside me, squeezing my eyes tightly shut several times to adjust to the dim, violet-tinted lighting that accentuated Cheetshzay’s patterned fur and his height.
How in holed Heavens did anyone in our human past reckon that grizzly bears were cute enough to use as a model for furry toys? Looking up at the Eaought, my respect for our ancestors increased a hundredfold. Apart from getting neckache craning to look him in the eye – all I want to do is run for cover…
Cheetshzay broke into a string of retching sounds as we picked our way over the trailing plant stems and branches cluttering the floor.
“Ah, my favourite human warrior. It gladdens my heart to see you recovered,” announced Cerk, his expression blacker than Eddy’s heart. “What’re you doing wearing that?” he snarled in an undertone.
I ignored him and continued gazing up into Cheetshzay’s opaque amber eyes, wishing fervently I could tell what was going through his alien brain.
“Thank you for your good wishes and your part in my recovery.” I decided not to play up my gratitude at all the tech he’d expended on fixing me up – it seemed to me that not acting remotely like prey would keep his respect, rather than staying polite. “A pity you were so misguided in your clumsy attempt to demonstrate your good will, for then I wouldn’t have been forced to attack you.”
“What?” Cerk bleated, “I’m not saying that!”
I turned to him, thoroughly out of patience. “You’re s’posed to be a translator – so translate, or I’ll find someone who will!”
“Hah! Best of luck with that one.” He folded his arms.
I gritted my teeth, itching to smack that smug look off his face, more than half convinced that Cheetshzay could understand me, anyhow. But I certainly wasn’t relying on that dregging translator box again.
“I’ll do it,” called Tend, bouncing out of mauve-tinged gloom, her brown eyes glittering with excitement.
I still couldn’t work out exactly how the Dars fitted in around here. Maybe Tend was a favourite that Cheetshzay kept close by. “Is it smooth you’re here, then?”
“No!” snapped Cerk.
“Oh yeah,” Tend smiled widely at him, showing far too many teeth. “Most’ve us have turned up – you’d have to be a lame-brain not to want to see this one. And of course I’ll translate for you. My pleasure!”
“I need for whoever’ll do the deed to translate exactly what I’m saying. Unless you’ve got a solid reason for me not to and then you’ll go to the trouble to explain it,” I announced.
“Deal,” Cerk stepped forward. “You and me mightn’t line up completely, but you leastways know where I’m coming from. Whereas you don’t have the first clue about this lot.” He jerked his head towards Tend.
Which is true. I nodded, scaldingly aware that Cheetshzay was following the human squabble far too closely. “Fine. Get on with it, then.” I flicked a look across to Tend, worried she might take offence at this apparent slight.
She returned my gaze, raising her shoulders in a half shrug, her lips twisted in a mocking grin as she turned to Cerk, who fixed Cheetshzay with that unblinking gaze of his, letting loose a series of noises only fit for a bathroom.
“May I say how sorry I am that you didn’t see fit to come to this meeting in your natural state,” Cerk droned, trying to tone down the sodding Eaought’s jabs by sounding less exciting than a lift-floor announcement. “I find your slimy skin when unfettered by clothing oddly appealing.”
I raised my eyebrows, zoning out the Dars’ hoots of laughter and loud applause.
“May I say how relieved I am that you chose to attend this meeting without displaying your teeth, which I found profoundly unpleasant,” I replied, blank-faced, in bored tones.
All credit to Cerk – though his eyes widened, he translated without any fuss. And I knew that he must’ve got it more or less correct by the patter of drain-clearing sounds from the Eaoughts dotted around the room and Cheetshzay’s single slow eyeblink.
“Ooo – go the Sap!” hooted Tend, while the Dars yelled their approval.
Deciding to stop his tactic of Let’s Try to Shock the Sap, Cheetshzay asked if there was anything he could do to make my investigation in Professor Sladen Waller’s death any easier. And while I was wondering what I could feasibly ask for, he offered to allow me and up to ten team members free passage through the Forbidden Zone at any time. I didn’t need to hear the Dars’ gasps and Eaoughts’ nasty noises to know it was an extraordinary offer.
I found the meeting a whole lot easier once food was served and although I braced myself for those black teeth to sprout out of his mouth, Cheetshzay munched through the meat with apparent ease and enjoyment without a single fang in evidence. Though he avoided the bones, I noticed. It was interesting to note that while we were surrounded by all sorts of Earth vegetation, the diet on offer was largely meat. I tore off the cooked strips of what looked like pork with my fingers and crammed it into my mouth, revelling in the absence of table manners.
It was also interesting to see Tend, Fling and the other male Dar squatting with the rest of us at the other end of the feeding square. Neither did they seem to have any problem resting on their haunches for the duration – whereas by the end of the meal my thigh muscles were screaming for mercy and I could tell from the way they were shifting, Wynn and Cerk were also uncomfortable.
“The other, bigger male is Sped,” murmured Wynn. “Remind me to tell you about him some time…”
Though I promptly forgot about everything else when Cheetshzay belched noisily and added a series of gurgling noises that had Cerk grinning.
“We need to return to our quarters and change into Gaiast robes. A Gaiast ship is due to rendezvous with us in forty-five minutes and twelve seconds,” he announced, clearly delighted. “We must be right on the edge of Homespace!”
It was something of a surprise to discover how much I enjoyed putting on a Gaiast robe, again, even though Jessica was
cursing the fact that it wasn’t the same one I’d worn earlier, which she was sure had begun to understand her input. But I didn’t want to think too much about the fact I might be wearing sentient clothing, so I didn’t. Besides, once I had changed back into the robe, packing my belongings and met up with Wynn and Cerk, Cheetshzay insisted on escorting us personally to the Gaiast ship – a great honour, according to Cerk.
Tend, Sped and Fling also accompanied us – and I was touched when Tend flung her arms around me. “Till next time – and bring Blue-eyes with you when you return. He’s the funnier than joy-juice and that’s a fact. Stay shiny and avoid being killed by the brov of yours – I’ll miss you if you do.”
Bending down, I hugged her back. “Thank you for fixing me up – you stay shiny, too. And give Cheeseface hell.”
I walked up the gangtube to the sound of Tend’s hooting laughter, which was a comfort as the Gaiasts around us radiated grim righteousness.
As the alarm skirled, warning passengers and visitors alike that the doors were about to close, I realised our journey was nearly over. By the end of tomorrow, I’ll be on Earth, my mother planet. The oddest feeling. But I wasn’t some homesick colonial returning to tearily recount how our family ended up in Space to anyone who looked as if they cared more than a spent airpac – I’d come all this way to snag Eddy and haul his psychotic carcass to a halt.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
“Firstoff, I owe you a super-massive apology,” announced Cerk, as we sat around the battered table in the grubby canteen of the Gaiast ferry transporting us to the nearest skyhook. We’d been escorted here by a snappy priestess, once the ferry got under way. “I always figured Cheetshzay was straightline, so long as folks acted appropriately. But this time…” He shook his head, his veil rippling with the movement. “Reckon he was a solid disappointment – and I told him so.”
I’d been all set to avoid the drosser, given his attitude while we were on the Eaought ship, but as he’d been so willing to step up to his mistake the least I could do was accept his apology.
The constant stream of hungry and thirsty Gaiasts funnelling into the shabby, table-crammed space avoided us like a nasty smell. Light-headed with relief that we were finally free of the Eaoughts and their terrifying presence, I was more than happy we were so thoroughly ignored.
“Where on Earth did your family pitch up?” Cerk’s abrupt subject change caught me unawares.
“Somewhere with a strong English community,” I replied. “My step-father likes the English traditions.”
“Or he did.” Wynn crunched into a battered apple he’d selected from the boring fruit-only snack choice. “It’s been nearly six years since you last saw them. They could’ve changed.”
I shook my head. “Not The Cap. He’s harder than durasteel and as rigid.”
“They’ve moved to a new planet where he knows no one – that’s enough to shake up the most unbending bod,” persisted Wynn.
“If we were talking about most people, I’d agree. But we’re not.” I took a breath, conscious my voice was too loud.
Wynn lobbed the core into the nearest recycler, causing a forest of hooded heads to track the trajectory of the apple core as it sailed across the room.
“What d’you do that for?” demanded a female.
“Would you rather I’d left it on the table?” asked Wynn.
“Yes. If you weren’t going to bother to plant the seeds!” snapped a man.
Oops, there’s our cover as Gaiasts blown to the edges of the Galaxy.
“My apologies. Been living around too much cloned fruit, recently,” improvised Wynn.
“And you ate that stuff?” demanded the priest.
“Well it was that or starve.” Wynn’s mild response reminded me that he’d spent a fair chunk of his life moving among strangers.
And talking of strange people… I leant forward, lowering my voice, “What’s the deal with the Gaiasts? How come the Eaoughts make their robes and give them permission to come and go in the Forbidden Zone?”
Cerk twitched, as he whispered, “Not now. Really. There’s stuff going on you need to know, given you’re wearing those. But this isn’t the time or place. Besides… you’ve got other concerns about to land in your lap.” His voice resumed its normal level, “We’re due to be offloaded at Kana Skyhook in a little over an hour, give or take. After that, I need to know where we’re headed.”
I shut my eyes, yearning for my augs so fiercely I could taste it, while wondering why Cerk was so afraid of the Gaiasts. Not that I got to find out, given how events kicked off... Meanwhile, I needed to discover where my family were living. “Is that anywhere near Portsmouth?”
“Which Portsmouth? There are a number of them scattered around the planet.”
What! “Some kind’ve city by the sea? I know they’d been flooded out.”
“Most the cities by the sea were flooded. Do you know any more? Where did they originally hail from before they headed starwards?”
“Don’t know.”
“They ever mention Britain – that’s where the biggest settlement called Portsmouth was… or America… maybe Canada…?”
I shook my head. “They left Earth just before the Water Wars.”
“Which ones?” Cerk didn’t actually add, You lame-brained know-nothing, but his tone did.
I took a large swallow of coffee, determined not to let his scuzzy attitude ruin this slice of pleasure. When Chief, I was always being called away on urgent business just as I’d settled in to eat a meal or enjoy a topline cup of coffee. Which was when I remembered what Eddy had screeched at me during our last disastrous conversation. I put my cup down. “Can you raise any privacy screens worth the name on this scow?”
“Probably not. Who’d you want to scope, then? Population density in Homespace is a whole lot higher than anywhere else. Chances are, any info-mining will be lost in the coms clutter ʼless someone is specifically targeting us. And even then, they’d probably struggle if you want to info-mine someone reasonably high on the Stardust Chart.”
“Stardust Chart?”
“A measure of how famous celebs are. Anyone who’s anyone throughout Inner Homespace is on the Stardust Chart,” said Cerk, sounding resigned as if he’d figured out the huge abyss that was our knowledge gap about Inner Homespace culture – and the fact we couldn’t plug into it while dressed as Gaiasts.
“So if you put in a search for Elizabeth Norman, the ex-Chief—ˮ
“What do you want to know about her? Because info-trawling her won’t need privacy screens, as she’s currently near the top of Stardust. Every minute there are thousands of hits on her name.”
“There are?” I knew I was easily recognised in Sector Two, but had assumed that once we returned to Earth I’d gain at least a measure of anonymity.
“Right. I’ve accessed her name. What do you want me trawling for?”
“Our kittenkiller mentioned that Mum— my mother said she was proud of me in an interview.” I was reluctant to mention Eddy’s name without any kind of screening. “Does it give any details about where she was interviewed, for instance? And how can you use your augs while wearing a Gaiast robe, anyway?”
“Cheetshzay fixed it so I’ve had Eaoughtish tech added to my augs to overcome the auto-dampening caused by the robes. Give me a few minutes to info-trawl.”
I sighed, plain jealous of his ability to stay connected while wearing Gaiast clothing.
Hallo – reality check! D’you really want a brain implant that’s been engineered by those bullying brutes? Because – in case you haven’t noticed – Cerk Withers is clearly on the outer edges of what passes for normal.
I winced at Jessica’s sudden interruption – and immediately Wynn turned towards me, evidently concerned and on the lookout for any sign of my buckling, again.
“Where are you headed once we land?” I asked him, trying to sound casual.
“I’m not going anywhere until this business of yours is sorted,” he s
aid. “You’re way more well-known here than I figured. A single Gaiast priestess sticks out like a supa-nova in a starless sky and it’ll be impossible for you to move around without being recognised if you shed the costume.” He gestured at my robes with a flick of his hand. “So I reckon I’ll tag along till you got Frog-brains squared away.”
“Thought you said that being alongside me was way too dangerous.”
“Yeah, there is that. But when you got hurt by those Eaties…” He shifted. “Well. Don’t want to be going through that again. I figure it’ll be less likely if I stay alongside. If that’s smooth with you.”
“Yes, yes – thank you.”
Reckon you wouldn’t be mainlining on this Starchart popularity contest if these Homespacers caught you babbling like some love-struck teen.
I decided to ignore Jessica. After all, it’d worked on Cheetshzay.
“Your mother called Abigail Vera Wright?” asked Cerk.
I nodded, unable to talk as an avalanche of longing poured through me. All these years… never seeing the boys... Coffee slopped onto the table from my cup.
“Hm. She’s partner in a business. There’s nothing English about where she lives, either,” he froze, clearly concentrating on the info pouring into his eardrop.
“What about The Cap?” It was difficult to keep my voice steady.
“Who?”
“John Wright. My stepfather.”
Cerk stilled again, before he turned back to me. “Yeah. He’s a lay preacher and worker for the local Tru-Church.”
How is Mum taking that? “Figures.”
“Wonder if he’s into repenting any of his shoddier moves?” Wynn muttered.
Cerk continued, “The family haven’t made any effort to hide being Returners, either. Which is why they’re so easy to find. In fact they’re only…” He jumped up. “Let’s see if I can get these folks to dogleg out to Skyhook Clarke. Your family are a mere cough and spit away from the base hub.” And with that he rushed out of the mess.