Analog SFF, January-February 2009

by Dell Magazine Authors

  The landing had been scary. It was the first time he'd tried to maneuver the ship into a port without benefit of a copilot or space traffic controllers.

  But he managed it. When the ship touched the old-fashioned pad that showed he had landed safely by lighting up everything around him, he felt relieved.

  He glanced over his shoulder at Rhonda Shindo. She was unconscious. He had kept the bubble around her and cut off the oxygen until she passed out. Then he had given her a shot of something that would make sure she stayed out until he was long gone.

  He had packed her into a moving crate that looked like a cold sleep coffin. Her face was still a little bruised. There had been a lot of damage, apparently, or the nanobots he'd been using hadn't functioned as well as he thought.

  Her clothing also had blood on it, and was ripped along one side. He hadn't thought to bring anything else for her, and he really didn't want to change her unconscious form. So he left the ruined clothing on her, hoping that the Gyonnese didn't know enough about humans to care that her clothing was seriously out of order.

  He wished now that he'd gotten more than his expenses and the payment to Athenia up front. Normally, he would have contacted the Gyonnese, have the bots deliver her in that coffin, and then leave.

  But he couldn't do that. He had to make sure he'd get some payment, and this was the only way. He was afraid the Gyonnese would complain about her physical condition. Technically, he had not violated his agreement with them, but he'd worked with them enough in the past to know how picky they could be, and he worried about that bruised face.

  He shut down all of the ship's systems except the essential ones. Then he touched the frame of the coffin, activating its float mechanism. He sent it to the nearest downshaft and followed, feeling like he was walking to his own death.

  He shook off the thought and went to the lower levels of the ship. The science station only had an environment in selected sections and since the landing pad was open to the atmosphere, he had to trust a corridor that automatically attached itself to the side doors.

  Considering how old this place was and how damaged, he wasn't going to do that. Instead, he was going to don one of the working environmental suits, let the coffin lead the way, and head out the cargo bay. He would wait until the suit let him know that the environment was suitable before he removed his helmet.

  The coffin was already on the lowest bay level when he arrived. He opened a secret compartment off one of the corridors, removed his favorite suit, and put on a thick helmet with a mirrored visor.

  According to his suit, the bay he walked through was as contaminated as the hold where he'd originally stashed Shindo. Maybe her face wasn't healing because the bruises there weren't caused by the broken nose. Maybe it wasn't healing because of the contamination.

  That was her problem now. He'd given her the pills. She could decide whether or not to take them.

  He sighed, then opened the bay doors.

  The lights were still on full, revealing a rusted, ruined port, filled with a lot of broken materials and destroyed ships. The landing pad looked like the only patch of ground that wasn't covered with ruined equipment.

  The coffin floated toward a sealed doorway. A green light rotated above it, theoretically telling him that everything was clear inside. He'd be able to breathe, he'd be able to stand without gravity boots, he would be warm enough.

  Still, he tramped to the airlock doors, feeling like a giant in his suit. There was some Earth-level gravity here or his legs wouldn't feel like they were glued to the floor with each step.

  Everything felt right—and if he were in one of the lesser suits, he might pull off the helmet the moment the airlock doors opened.

  But this suit still hadn't cleared the area. It claimed that the oxygen, carbon dioxide, and carbon monoxide ratios were off. There was also another chemical that the suit didn't have the sophistication to identify.

  At that moment, he decided to leave the thing on permanently. He wasn't going to trust that the unknown chemical was safe.

  The airlock doors slid open and he stepped inside. The coffin came with him, crowding him as the doors closed behind him. Shindo looked peaceful even though she wasn't. He tried not to look at her. He didn't want to think about her more than he had to.

  The interior doors finally opened, and the suit approved. The environment was perfect for him.

  Still, he kept the thing on.

  A welcoming committee of five Gyonnese ringed the exit from the airlock doors. Yu knew he'd seen all five of these Gyonnese before. In fact, before he had met them, he recognized them from the air vids the Gyonnese used to distribute news. These five Gyonnese weren't leaders of the Gyonnese, but they were the leaders’ assistants, famous in their own right among the Gyonnese people.

  But Yu didn't know their honorifics and didn't want to guess.

  "Where is the woman?” the nearest Gyonnese asked.

  "Here,” Yu said, putting his hand on the glass coffin.

  "You have killed her,” the Gyonnese in the center said. “She is worth nothing to us dead."

  Yu expected the comment, but hated it anyway. The Gyonnese were quick-tempered and violent. He'd been grabbed by one once: it was like being held by a braided rope made of gooey flesh.

  "She's not dead,” he said. “She's unconscious. This was the easiest way to move her. I have to warn you. She's very, very difficult."

  "We know that,” the center Gyonnese said. “If she was not, she would not have killed our children."

  Yu sighed, hoping that the visor caught the sound. “I mean hard to handle. You'll need to restrain her from the first. And don't expect her to give in to anything. She's a fighter."

  He lowered the coffin so that they could see her face.

  "That's a bruise.” He ran his hand over her face. “I broke her nose trying to keep her from killing me."

  "Will she live with that injury?” asked another Gyonnese.

  "I had the injury repaired,” Yu said. “Even if I hadn't, she could have lived with it. Humans are resilient."

  "Then what has disfigured her face, if not an injury?” asked yet another Gyonnese.

  "The injury disfigured it, and the technique I used to heal it hasn't gotten to that part yet. Also, she was exposed to some contaminants around the time she boarded my ship, so she has some medication to prevent an illness from them."

  "I thought humans could remove contaminants,” said the center Gyonnese. “Or is that a lie from the Aleyd corporation as well?"

  "It's no lie,” Yu said, hating discussions with the Gyonnese. They were always circular, but somehow they never ended up where they started. It was as if the discussions did move forward, but in a way he didn't quite understand. “I used the standard method to remove 95 percent of her contamination. The remaining part is slower and requires the pills. Make sure she takes them if you want her to remain healthy."

  "We do not understand human physiology,” the center Gyonnese said. “We cannot be responsible for her care."

  "If you like,” Yu said, “I can download a medical program that will take care of things for you. I'd have to transfer it from my ship to the original computer in this science facility."

  "Do so,” the first Gyonnese said.

  "However,” said the center Gyonnese, “do not expect payment for this program. We would not need it without your negligence."

  "I could have kept her from you until she healed,” Yu said. “I thought you wanted her quickly."

  "We do,” the first Gyonnese said.

  The center Gyonnese said to the first Gyonnese, loudly enough for Yu to hear, “This human is cheating us. We can't even quiz this person to see if she is indeed Rhonda Shindo."

  Yu had forgotten that humans looked the same to the Gyonnese, just as Gyonnese looked the same to most humans.

  "She is,” he said. “She has identification chips in her hands."

  "Which we cannot access,” the center Gyonnese said.

&n
bsp; Then Yu understood. They weren't sure they could open the coffin. So he pressed the side and the lid slid back. The Gyonnese scuttled backward, swaying as they moved.

  Yu grabbed her hand and hung it off the side of the coffin. “Check now."

  The Gyonnese stared at her. Their arms flailed behind their backs, fingers touching, obviously communicating in a way he did not understand.

  Finally the first Gyonnese scuttled forward. With clear trepidation, he took her hand in his fingers and touched the nearest chip.

  He started, then his whiskers spread out wide, and then he dropped her hand as if it had burned him.

  "It is she,” he said to the others.

  A visible shudder ran through him. He excused himself and scuttled into the darkness. A liquid sound, like water filling a bowl, echoed from that spot.

  The other Gyonnese bent in the middle, their arms going up.

  "Is he all right?” Yu asked.

  The Gyonnese rose slowly, as if they were underwater.

  Yu's heart pounded. He was afraid he had violated some kind of protocol.

  Finally, the Gyonnese who hadn't spoken said, “Touching her has made him ill. He will recover, but he will never forget the shame of it."

  Yu wasn't sure what his reaction should be. “I didn't know. I could have found another way to verify."

  "There is no other way,” said the same Gyonnese.

  Then the remaining four stared at him as if they expected something.

  "Look,” Yu said, “I can download the medical program from my ship. She's going to wake up on her own in about four Earth hours. She'll be ready to fight. As I said, make sure she's restrained before that."

  "You are certain she is not dead?” the center Gyonnese asked.

  "Positive,” Yu said, “and if you want, double check with the guy who touched her. Living humans are warm to the touch. She should have been warm. She still is, if someone else wants to verify."

  They all scuttled backward. He was glad they couldn't see inside his visor because he smiled at their reaction.

  "She is warm.” The first Gyonnese came out of the darkness. His skin had turned an orange-yellow.

  "See?” Yu said. “All I need is my payment. Then I'll send the download and leave you to do whatever you're going to do."

  "No,” the center Gyonnese said.

  Yu froze. He'd expected some argument, but not an outright no.

  "I delivered her,” Yu said. “You promised payment upon receipt. I trusted you. I didn't even take a deposit, and this woman cost me. She murdered my partner. See why I'm warning you?"

  "We have no proof that your partner is dead,” the center Gyonnese said.

  "I can give you his body,” Yu snapped. “You want it? I don't know what to do with it."

  Four of them scuttled even farther back, but the center one stayed in position.

  "We shall pay half."

  "Half?” Yu asked. He hadn't expected this. The Gyonnese had always been fair until now.

  "She is damaged. We know nothing of your kind. She might live until you are far from here and then die. We need her alive for court."

  "She's fine,” Yu said.

  "You have told us she's ill."

  "I also told you it was nothing major.” But had he? Bruised meant that she was fine to humans, but what did it mean to Gyonnese? And the contamination. He'd explained the 95 percent but not how severe the 5 percent was.

  "We have no external verification for that."

  "You'll have the medical program,” Yu said.

  "Which you will give us,” the center Gyonnese said. “We cannot trust it."

  They had a point, but he wasn't going to concede it. “I want full payment."

  "You will get the second half when she appears in court,” the center Gyonnese said.

  "Pay me three-quarters,” Yu said. “I've lost my assistant."

  "Half,” the center Gyonnese said.

  "I'll take her away,” Yu said.

  "Half.” The center Gyonnese took his long arms and folded them across his body. He had clearly negotiated with humans before.

  Yu had already negotiated a full price higher than anything he'd ever received from the Gyonnese. Maybe they'd figured that out. Half would still be more than he'd ever made from them.

  "Half,” he said, “if you pay me the rest after she wakes."

  "You are not staying,” the center Gyonnese said.

  "Nope,” Yu said. “I'm going to get my hand repaired. When it's done, I'll come back, and you give me the rest."

  "When we take her to court."

  "No,” Yu said. “If I don't get the second payment in the next few Earth days, I'm taking her now. You get nothing."

  He heard a shushering sound and realized that was the other Gyonnese talking softly, without benefit of the amplification device.

  Finally the center Gyonnese said, “Half. The second payment will come within one Earth week."

  That was about how long it would take him to find an adequate medical facility, to have the repair, and then to return.

  "Fine,” Yu said. “I want the first half now."

  "Done,” the center Gyonnese said. “You owe us a medical program."

  "You'll get it as soon as I return to the ship."

  "How do we take custody of the woman?” the center Gyonnese said.

  Yu pressed the side of the coffin. “Where do you want it?"

  "We want it to follow us,” the center Gyonnese said.

  "As soon as I verify payment, I'll program that,” Yu said.

  Instantly his links hummed. They had been blocking most of the nearby network. He quickly scanned the account he'd given them when they made the deal, and then he tapped part of the coffin.

  "She's all yours,” he said. “Good luck with her. You'll need it."

  * * * *

  And finally, Yu was free. He hurried back to his ship, closing all the doors behind him and setting double locking protocols. He used an emergency voice command to power up the systems before he got to the bridge, and he didn't even remove his environmental suit as he moved through the ship.

  He stopped at decon and went into the machine himself. He left the environmental suit in a secondary decon unit.

  Neither unit recorded any problems, but he still felt dirty.

  He knew that was because of the job.

  The job, the injuries, the loss of Nafti. All the mistakes Yu had made. He almost regretted leaving the woman behind. She would find no sympathy from the Gyonnese. But they wouldn't kill her.

  No matter how much she deserved it.

  He got to the bridge and sank into the pilot's chair. He had to be careful as he took off because he had no help. If he was going to make more mistakes this was where he would do it.

  The ship rose quickly and the lights on the pad went out. He didn't breathe deeply, though, until he was outside Io's orbit and on his way out of the solar system.

  Shindo was with the Gyonnese. And if he didn't register his flight plan with anyone, no one would come after him for a while.

  He had his onboard computer search for a base outside this sector that specialized in human hand repair.

  It took a while for the ship to locate one, but when it did, it gave him the information. He programmed it into the navigational system.

  Then he set the ship on autopilot and went into his cabin for a long, much-deserved rest.

  * * * *

  The ship woke him in some weird asteroid belt that didn't show up on any of the charts. The ship didn't believe the autopilot was enough to avoid collision.

  He felt that it was, but stirred himself anyway. He had some other business that had to be completed here.

  He went onto the bridge and called up the readings for the belt. The asteroids were closer together than in any other belt he'd traveled through. No wonder the ship wanted extra guidance.

  He waited until they found a fairly large gap between the rocks and ordered a full stop. Then he ran
a hand over his face. He was still tired. Deep down exhausted, in fact, and sick of himself. He knew this would only make him feel worse.

  He could have had the bots do it.

  But he was having enough trouble living with himself these last few days. Shrugging this job off on the bots would only make him feel worse.

  He went to medical lab and stared at Nafti. Nafti's skin had gone a horrible whitish color that showed the veins in his face and hands. His eyes, which no one had bothered to close (which Yu hadn't bothered to close), had clouded over.

  Nafti didn't look human any more.

  But that didn't excuse what had happened or the way Yu had treated him. Yu had never given Nafti any respect, even though he had hired Nafti for his strength and experience.

  Yu could use that strength now. The trek to the smallest cargo bay would be a difficult one.

  Yu ran a hand over his hair. He didn't know what to say over Nafti's body or if he should say anything. He didn't even know if Nafti left a family behind. He had no idea if there was someone to contact about Nafti's death. He'd never had Nafti fill out any forms.

  Yu wasn't even sure if Janus Nafti was the man's real name.

  Yu sighed. Then he hit buttons on the side of the diagnostic table, unhooking it from the floor and giving it wheels instead of feet. He tucked Nafti's arms on his torso and grimaced. The corpse was ice cold. At least it wasn't in rigor any longer. Yu would have hated having those arms hanging over the side, bumping into corners as he wheeled the table out of the medical lab.

  It took longer than he expected to get to the cargo level. He had to go around some tight corners, and once the wheels got stuck. Yu struggled, but eventually freed them.

  He didn't want to remove Nafti sooner than he had to.

  Using his good hand on the back of the cart, Yu pushed the body into the smallest cargo bay. This bay was empty of everything. Yu rarely used it, except to jettison cargo that he didn't want. And since he didn't want valuable items disappearing into space, he just made sure nothing stayed in that bay at all.

  He pushed the diagnostic table into the bay. It was cold, with unpainted metallic walls and a matching floor. Not much to look at, and certainly not enough to pass as a ceremonial transition spot from one life to the next—if, indeed, Nafti had believed in that kind of thing.