“That’s pleasant,” Michelle said.
“The galaxy is a big place,” Turner said. “We don’t all believe the same thing, and it’s easier to send people back to where they’re familiar. It’s no more legal to kill a man on Torgets than Terra, but there are some minor legal differences between worlds.”
Turner parked in one of the spaces near the side door of the church. He did not immediately get out but turned to the trio.
“Listen,” said Turner, “I don’t know where you all are from, or why the genetic scanner thinks you’re from Earth when you seem to know what you do, but where we’re going is not a regular Earth location. Like Talkisan, some people get trapped on Earth, and not all of them look human. We’re willing to send them back to where they came from, but not everyone wants that. Stick to business, and don’t inquire too deeply about people’s pasts, no matter what they look like.”
The trio nodded their understanding, and Michelle wondered what they could possibly encounter in this church to warrant such a speech. They all got out of the car and walked to the glass double doors on the side of the building. They entered into a regular-looking lobby with a woman seated behind a desk. She was dressed very casually in jeans, t-shirt, and tennis shoes which surprised Michelle a lot. She would have expected a business suit like a secretary. She smiled brightly at seeing them.
“Good evening, lady and gentlemen,” she said. “How may I direct you?”
“We need a couple of things we’re hoping someone can help with,” Turner said. “First, is there anyone through whom we can order parts to repair a small to mid-size ship. Second, we need some help moving a small ship out of a wooded area to somewhere that we can conduct repairs on it without bother from the locals.”
“Yes sir,” she smiled. “Parts suppliers are in the Life Union as usual. You’ll find it down this hall behind me and to your left. For a transport service, that’s funny because you’re the second person tonight who needed something like that. Right down to the wooded area. I didn’t get his name, but he was a big guy. Mess of short brown hair.”
“Oh yeah,” Perry said. “That does sound like him. Friend of ours. Is he still here, you think?”
“I am not sure,” the woman said. “It’s been a little while. I sent him over to Jaleri’s down the preschool hall in room 147. Jaleri usually stays there all night, but if you’re lucky, he may have already sent a guy out to get that ship moved. He knows how important it is to get those things out of the way.”
“Definitely,” Perry said. Blake gave him a “Really?” look. Perry shrugged. “Well, it is important.” Blake rolled his eyes.
“Thank you very much,” Turner said. They walked a short distance past the woman at the table. Turner glanced back, and she was casually reading a book and not paying any attention to them. “All right, I am going to take the parts dealers. Blake, I would like for you to talk to this Jaleri character to see what you can find out about where he took the ship. I trust you can work that out.”
“Consider it done,” Blake said.
“I’ll also let you decide where you want your people,” Turner said. “You know their strengths better than me.”
“Well, since Perry, here, is buddies with the other guy, I guess he can come with me to Jaleri’s,” Blake said. “Michelle can go with you to make sure you pick out the right parts.”
“All right,” Turner said to Michelle. “Let’s head that direction.”
Blake and Perry went down the hall to the preschool wing while Michelle followed Turner down the main hall which opened to their left into a large meeting area next to a concession stand which was open and serving refreshments. It was neither dark nor seedy. Four people were in the area speaking to others while some were simply seated at tables with whatever they ordered from the concession stand. Everyone looked human.
“So this looks pretty casual,” Michelle said.
“At the moment,” Turner said. “Let’s see what we have here.”
Turner walked to a man behind a laptop who seemed like he was waiting for someone to talk to. “Do you do ship parts?” Turner asked.
“I do,” the man said. “Of course I have to wonder why Sam Turner of the local official Federation presence would even need parts since he can order ships on a whim.”
“Well, then you know I don’t really need parts,” Turner said. “I need information.”
“And I need to make a living,” the vendor said. “What’s in it for me?”
“Sometimes, the department shops for new vendors,” Turner said. “How strong a word would you want me to put in when a ship comes to Earth, and it needs a little fix? Might even extend outside of this system.”
“A promise of future business don’t put food on the table tonight,” the vendor countered. “I would hope a friend might put a good word in anyway. Might help with future questions if the belt weren’t so loose the next time you need information.
“Depends on how good the information is, I suppose,” Turner said. The vendor glanced back to see Michelle still standing behind Turner.
“On the bright side, you did improve the view a bit from all these ugly mugs that wander around here.” He smiled at Michelle in a friendly, almost grandfatherly way. “Don’t let him make you stand back there. Pull up a chair madam.”
Michelle sat next to Turner at the table. “Thank you,” she said.
“No, thank you for brightening our day,” the vendor said. “I’m Ilderoy, by the way. The pleasure is mine. By what name do the angels call you?”
“Michelle,” she answered.
“You have a wonderful smile, young lady,” Ilderoy said. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” He looked back at Turner “What do you want to know?”
“Pingrit Talkisan,” Turner said.
“Pingrit Talkisan?” Ilderoy grimaced. “How much can I give you to get rid of him?”
“Not a friend, then?” Turner asked.
“If I never see that face again, I will die a happy man,” Ilderoy said. At that moment, a creature that looked like a wolf on two legs walked into the concession area, ditched an overcoat, and sat down at a table. He had slightly more hair on his head than everywhere else, which he ran his hands through in a stressed out manner. Ilderoy leaned around them, momentarily to look at the wolfman. “You all right, Ghilduv?” The wolfman Ilderoy a thumbs up and a smiling nod before he leaned his head on his hands.
“Poor Ghilduv,” Ilderoy said. “Came down here for a quiet vacation and the wife ran off with one of the natives. Turns out she likes them bald. Left him stranded.”
“He doesn’t want to go back to his home planet?” Turner asked. “You know we-”
“Oh, that’s a sensitive topic,” Ilderoy said quietly. “I wouldn’t bring it up. Apparently, they eloped, and her daddy? Well, all the stations are monitored very closely for the, uh, well, individual who stole his daughter.”
“Unfortunate,” Turner said. “About Talkisan?”
“Right,” Ilderoy said, “Anyone willing to make Pingrit Talkisan go away is a friend of mine. Am I right, guys?” There was a mutual agreement in the form of a collective mumble. “Guy’s a pest. He has this Orleng Class V Cargo Freighter that is parked in some field somewhere that he’s trying to fix. Problem with that is the guy’s a musclehead and not a grease monkey. He claims to be a navigator, but I think he’s the type that around here would use a GPS to find a gas station. How many hours of my life have been lost to a battery of questions about what is broken, how to fix it, what part he needs, how to put that part in, how to take that part out of the wrong spot that he put it, how to put that part back together because he broke it taking it out… I’m not lying. I will start making money if I never see him again.”
“I had no idea,” Turner said.
“I wish I knew exactly where he was,” Ilderoy said, “because I’d tell you. Heck, I’d take you out there. What I do know is that his ship is super customized. One of the problems we’ve had he
lping him is that a lot of stuff isn’t factory original and more of it doesn’t fit quite right. Reminds me of a Demarrs ship by his description. You know, the kind that’s made to fight and run and do things that it isn’t supposed to?”
“There may be some truth to that,” Turner said. “What kind of modifications are you aware of?”
“I know I’d like to take a look myself,” Ilderoy said. “He has occasionally brought some pictures of areas that are broken, and there’s stuff I’ve never seen anywhere before, much less on a run of the mill Orleng Class Freighter. I know that it’s hidden behind not only a jammer, but it has some kind of invisibility shield in place. That’s how it’s in a field, and no one can find it. He has some sort of doodad to help him locate the door.”
“I also know he has a matter transporter,” Turner offered.
“Does he really?” Ilderoy said. “Man, that thing must have scrambled his brains. I’d love to have a look at that. But he never takes anyone there. He won’t let anyone know where it is. Not that anyone could fix it anyway. He has occasionally begged for help getting off the planet, but no one is willing to take him. Doesn’t surprise me. If he is associated in any way with Demarrs, who would even remotely want the risk of getting caught with him? It’s no laughing matter. We did finally get Ghilduv a ride off this rock. Someone took pity on him. Couldn’t happen to a nicer fellow. Hang in there Ghilduv.” The wolf man smiled once more and put a thumb up before returning to his stare at the table.
“Does he speak English?” Michelle asked.
“Nah,” Ilderoy said. “He’s a Lycramal. Their jaws don’t move like ours do, so they have trouble with our languages. He’d probably give his left paw for a good bit of conversation.”
Michelle glanced at him and wondered if the Maze was familiar with his race. Seemed likely since they were part of the Federation and from the same time period as her. Blake said that it actively translated her speech to the listener.
“Can you understand him?” Michelle asked Ilderoy.
“I wish I could,” Ilderoy said. “I never learned Lycramal or much of anything. I speak the local language because I live here, but the only other language I know is Silcoge, which is what they speak back home. We only got his story because he was able to type in a language someone understood. What did they say that was? It’s a human planet close to theirs. I don’t remember.”
“Does he understand you?” Michelle asked.
“I have no idea,” Ilderoy said. “All he ever really does is stick that thumb in the air, and I figure that means he’s doing ok.”
Michelle looked back at him again with his fuzzy head resting in his hands looking literally like a sad puppy. While Turner and Ilderoy continued to talk about Pingrit in the form of mostly insults, Michelle stood up and walked over to Ghilduv. In her heart, she prayed this would work.
“Hello,” Michelle said timidly. Ghilduv’s eyes slowly looked at her in surprise. “I’m Michelle. You seem kind of sad over here.”
“You speak my language?” Ghilduv asked. “No one speaks my language. How do you know this?”
“I’m afraid it’s technology that I don’t really understand, but it works,” Michelle said. “How are you feeling?”
“Well, lonely, mostly,” Ghilduv said. “I take it they told you about me.”
“They did,” Michelle said. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s life, I guess,” Ghilduv shrugged. “You win some. You lose everything. I really thought she loved me.” Suddenly, he started crying. Michelle gestured to him, and she awkwardly held this wolf man in a hug as he bawled his eyes out. Somewhere in the back of her head, she wondered if he would smell like wet dog after this.
“I am sorry,” Ghilduv said. “I never get to talk to anyone here. I don’t understand half of what they say though I’m getting better. I have to hide all day long because I don’t belong here. I can’t go home. I just feel like my life is over.”
“You know what?” Michele said. “My life was over once. I drank myself into a stupor to forget it, but I’ve found that there is so much more out there. There is hope and life for each one of us. I also know if someone told me that only a few months ago, I’d want to punch them because I wouldn’t believe it. I hear you’re getting a ride out of here.”
“Yes,” he said, “these guys have been great. Someone is heading to Drytakla next week, and these guys put in a good word for me, and once I get there, I can pick up the pieces of my life again, and see what I can make of it.”
“See?” Michelle said. “There is some hope after all.”
“Yeah, well, hopefully, she didn’t clean out our account first,” Ghilduv said. “I might try talking to her family and heading back home eventually. I just have to do it on my terms rather than on a government transport looking defeated.”
“Of course,” Michelle said. She glanced back to find Turner looking ready to go. “It was a pleasure talking to you.”
“You too,” Ghilduv said. “Thank you.”
She waved goodbye to him and joined Turner as they were walking away.
“How did you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?” Michelle said.
“I understood everything you said as you spoke to him,” Turner said, “and he apparently understood you, and you understood him? What kind of technology does that?”
“Like I told him,” Michelle said. “I don’t really understand it.”
“You people continue to surprise me,” Turner said. “Let’s see if Blake came up with anything.”
They walked back the way they had come to find Blake and Perry emerging as well.
CHAPTER TEN
Blake and Perry had turned down the hall labeled preschool and looked at the numbers of the various rooms - some of which had people in them and some were empty with the lights out. Blake and Perry had been on Earth on other occasions, but this was the first time they had ever learned that something like this was going on. Blake wondered how long these safe havens for off-worlders had been around and also wondered how long “off-worlder” had been a term. In his era, he had never heard it despite the fact that people in his time did leave the planet and knew other races.
They reached number 147 and opened the door. Seated in the middle of the room was a six-foot creature that looked like a jet black insect with an enormous oblong head, tiny black humanoid eyes, long thin arms, legs, and fingers. Although he was clearly bipedal in nature, his back hunched to where his head aligned with his back like a four-footed animal. Without the hunch, he would be looking straight up. Blake recognized the species as Enkonchomo, though by his time, many of them had been wiped out in a brutal attack on their home planet by an unknown spacefaring species. It at least made sense why he remained here while others did the work. If he stepped outside, Terrans would have a heart attack.
“Welcome,” the creature said holding out his spindly fingers in a handshake, “I am Jaleri. If you’re here, you need something moved. What can I take care of for you?”
“Well, we’re here on behalf of someone who asked to have something moved earlier,” Blake said, “or so we heard. A one person ship parked in a wooded area?”
“Is that right?” Jaleri asked, his tone immediately dripping with skepticism. “And tell me, one on behalf of someone else, what business is that customer to do with you?”
“He is an old friend of ours,” Blake said. “We were really hoping you might be able to tell us where to find him.”
“Were he an old friend,” Jaleri said, “you would have methods to find him other than questioning a one-time associate. Nevermind the suspicious nature of your showing up immediately after him. It seems to me that he is not, in fact, a friend, but someone you are trying to find on your own. I am not an information kiosk. I am a merchant, and I would expect payment for any services rendered.”
“You want us to pay for information?” Perry asked.
“It would seem reasonable that if you are asking me to violate
my ethical obligations to my customers that you might as well violate other ethical obligations by paying for said information,” Jaleri said.
“And did my friend pay you for your services to move the ship?” Perry asked. “I only ask as an ethical citizen because he has been known to be less than honest in his dealings.”
“Payment is always required upfront,” Jaleri said. “On this planet, I take both local currency as well as galactic. He gave me a very valid payment number, and it successfully ran. Any statements to the contrary would be incorrect, I believe.”
“I sure hope that the name he gave you was his own,” Perry said, “it would be an awful thing for that to come around as being a stolen payment number.”
“Perhaps you would not mind enlightening me as to your friend's name,” Jaleri said. “In the interests of verification, of course.”
“No, I apologize for the intrusion, sir,” Blake said. “I mean, he isn’t really our friend anyway. He killed a guy and stole his ship - which you moved, I take it. I’m sure that won’t affect your standing on this planet at all.”
“As long as he called himself Talkisan, at least you got paid for it,” Perry said. Blake and Perry turned to leave, but they did not go far.
“Wait a minute,” Jaleri said. He got up and walked his strange, hunched body to behind a table to review his records for a moment. Blake glanced at Perry with a smile. “You said his name was what?” Jaleri asked.
“Pingrit Talkisan,” Perry said.
“He would have asked you to move a Trondel Class Micro Carrier from behind a warehouse at third and Madison, I believe,” Blake said.
“Third and Madison, you say,” Jaleri said. He looked at the information on a laptop screen and rubbed his long head with his spindly fingers. “Talkisan.”
“That’s the one,” Blake said. Jaleri peered at his screen and back at Blake and Perry.
“Ok, listen,” Jaleri said. “My people are trying to make a good impression with the Federation. Humans all over the galaxy distrust us on sight. I get it. We don’t care for your appearance either, but one of us steps out of line, and everyone goes down. If it gets out that an Enkonchomo assisted in a murder and theft, it will ruin us for years. The press is brutal against my people. I can tell you where he wanted that ship delivered. It was north of town somewhere. In an open field. I heard from my driver probably ten minutes before you arrived that it was delivered there safe and sound. He was even there to meet him.”
The Off-Worlders Page 8