FRENCHY

by George Olney

  Frenchy nodded thoughtfully. It was a good plan. Even the announcement about Weykhaz's status somehow fit. She got up from the table. "We need to get going."

  Maev shook her head. "Travel at night with just the two of us? Not this girl.

  "Besides," she added, "I don't think we are in all that big a rush. I got the impression Grae detoured to the Freehold and again to Tokhaz. He has to backtrack along the same route we'll travel. Then, too, I know him. He's not a fast traveler unless he has to be. If we get up early and push it, we can be at the Freehold by midday tomorrow then decide what's next."

  Frenchy thought for a moment, then agreed. Besides, she wasn't all that hot about wandering around acting as lee'thal bait. Traveling in the light of day seemed to be a good idea. She sat back down. "So okay, we wait until tomorrow."

  A thought struck her. With all this riding and exercise, she was really using the calories lately. "Maev," she said with little grin, "I think we've worked hard enough lately to earn a bit of a celebration. What's this place got for dessert?"

  That night, as they got ready for bed, things got a little awkward again. Frenchy was removing her one-piece and noticed Maev was already in the sheets. Then the same thought struck both of them at the same time. After a second staring at each other, Frenchy said forcefully, "Bull! You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine. Agreed?"

  Maev laughed. "Agreed. Catch the light."

  They both lay there in the dark, uncomfortable at first, then slowly relaxing. Maev's suspicions and Frenchy's irritations melted as both began to get used to each other without the man present. Finally, Frenchy found herself in a pleasantly relaxed state, staring at the ceiling of the darkened room as she thought about the day and what it had brought. Change was something she was getting used to on this planet, but today certainly topped the list for major upheavals!

  "Frenchy?"

  "Um?"

  "Ever lie in bed and have a conversation with someone?"

  "Just Grae. Never was with anyone else long enough to want to."

  Maev shifted in the bed. "Do you think we'll find him?"

  Frenchy frowned in the darkness. "I want to. First I thought I'd be happy when I was free. Now that I'm my own person, I'm still not completely free. Not until I know he's safe. It's like it's a loose end that has to be tied down. It's starting to eat at me. Dumb, isn't it?"

  "No. I think it means you're in love."

  "I don't know. I've never been in love before. Is that how it is?"

  Maev laughed softly. "You're asking the wrong girl. I've never been that close to a man, either. When you find out, you tell me."

  Frenchy also chuckled. "Boy, we're a pair. Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

  Frenchy's sleep was troubled with strange dreams. She saw the Barrens by night, sitting by the light of a campfire. Then she dreamed again of the beautiful dark haired woman, never quite seeing her face or shaking the feeling of horror. The shining blonde haired woman came later, overlaid with regret and sorrow.

  Frenchy woke in the darkened room and lay there unmoving, eyes wide open. She was doing it again. She was getting Grae's thoughts. Maybe she was tuned to him because she never seemed to read anyone else that strongly. Whatever, she knew he was out there and he was thinking of her. That was a comfort.

  It came to her finally, beyond a shadow of a doubt. It was fact. She could find him.

  Slowly, the pressure inside her, there since he left, subsided. She was going to find him.

  She slept easily the rest of the night.

  CHAPTER SIX

  They reined in their gorts at the top of a low rise and Maev pointed out a moderate sized vegetable that was either a large bush or stunted tree. "Okay, test time," she said. "Pop that with your bopper. I want you to see what it does."

  Frenchy dubiously eyed the inoffensive little tree, but decided to follow Maev's suggestion. After all, if she had the bopper on her back, she ought to know what the thing did. Since Maev seemed to expect her to shoot from gort-back, she decided to stay in the saddle.

  She reached for her bopper with a fervent hope that her gort would remain its normal placidly imposing self while she shot. Drawing it, she used both hands to steady the weapon in the direction of the, hopefully, soon to be doomed tree. She was shooting from the hip but the balance and feel of the weapon felt best in that mode. With absolutely no expectation of hitting the tree, she pulled the trigger.

  THUMP!

  Large clods of dirt and tree fragments shot violently away from her target in a fan shaped fashion. There was no doubt she hit the tree. It wasn't there anymore. There was also no doubt her bopper was a formidable weapon.

  The gorts, on the other hand, seemed singularly unimpressed by deadly blasters in the hands of big blondes. None of the three animals the women had with them took the slightest notice of the explosion. The gorts appeared accustomed to such things or uninterested when not directly involved.

  Maev was nodding approvingly. "Yep. I've seen boppers work before. They're awesome. Judging by the way you blasted that tree, you've got a pretty good natural affinity for the gun. I'd say with my rifle and your bopper, we're pretty well covered in case of trouble."

  "I certainly hope so," Frenchy commented, holstering her gun. "The further out in the Barrens we get, the more I miss Grae. I'll be happy when we get to the Freehold."

  Maev waved off Frenchy's fears as unworthy of a sunny day. "Hey, we're well armed for anything we run across and we've got a force shield for the camp. No sweat."

  Frenchy glared at the girl. "And just who wanted to stay in Tokhaz because she didn't want to be wandering around out here in the dark?"

  Maev grinned back unrepentantly. "Camping's different than traveling. We're shielded. Besides, that was a pretty comfortable bed, wasn't it?"

  Frenchy's frown turned into a smile. "Thought so! Faker. You just wanted a good night's rest."

  Maev's face took on a mischievous grin. "Which I wasn't sure you were going to give me."

  "Who says I wasn't just tired last night?" Frenchy shot back, pleased to see Maev's smile become slightly uncertain. Maev wasn't the only one that could pull someone else's chain.

  As they started off, more to cover embarrassment than anything else, Maev idly asked, "Where do you suppose Grae is right now?"

  The question was intended to be rhetorical, but Frenchy answered without thinking. Pointing to the north, she said, "That way, about a day’s ride."

  "Huh?"

  "I said..." Frenchy stopped when she realized what had just happened. Suddenly, she was flustered. "Uh, wa-"

  Maev nodded. "Yeah. My sentiments exactly. What the hell did you just do?"

  Frenchy looked slightly stunned. "I think I just pinpointed Grae. I don't believe it, but I can track him!"

  "How?"

  "Locar said I had psi abilities, but not what they were. I've been feeling flashes of various things, here and there, but this is sure a new one on me!" Frenchy shook her head in wide-eyed bewilderment. A few minutes and some unscientific tests revealed that Frenchy couldn't locate anyone else, and wasn't too sure about Grae.

  "Maybe it's because I'm trying to do it," she mused. "The other things work when I'm not concentrating. This is probably the same deal."

  Maev was curious. "What other things?"

  That led to explanations on Frenchy's ability to get memories and images from Grae. "There's probably other abilities," she added. "I'm just not sure what they are."

  Some lively speculation filled the next hour's ride. They decided that Frenchy's newly developing abilities would be the key to finding Grae, if and when Weykhaz agreed to help them. "I think he will," Frenchy said with more certainty than she felt.

  "Well..." Whatever Maev was going to say was lost in a high pitched whine growing from the blue depths of the sky overhead. "That's a sled! In trouble, too!"

  Frenchy was urgently scanning the sky around her, trying to find the source of the noise. It wa
s the vapor trail that caught her eye first. "There it is!" she yelled.

  The little sled was in obvious trouble, wobbling as it sailed through the sky on a downward slant, trailing smoke. "That's battle damage," Maev said with certainty. "He's got it under control, but he's going to hit hard."

  Even in the strain of the moment, Frenchy found the time to take umbrage. "Can't that be a woman pilot?"

  Maev looked at her for a moment, slightly surprised. "What difference does it make what sex is piloting? He's still shot up and is going to need our help."

  Flushing, Frenchy jerked her gort around and galloped after Maev, riding hard in the direction in which the small flier had disappeared. The fact that they heard no explosion gave her some semblance of hope. It was only after they had been riding for a few minutes that she suddenly realized she knew absolutely nothing about crash rescue. Oh well, hope Maev knows what she's doing, she thought. If not, the blind were going to have to rescue the crippled.

  The sled was further away and higher up than it first seemed. Even riding hard, it took them the better part of an hour to get to the crash site, following the smoke. Topping a low rise, Frenchy caught her first sight of the crash. The little flier was on the ground, apparently intact with the exception of several obvious holes trailing plumes of smoke and a few neatly discarded access panels lying around. The panels were discarded because someone had removed them to get to the craft's internals. That someone was now hard at work, half in and out of the vehicle.

  As they thundered up and stopped, Frenchy got her first good look at the pilot, and found herself wondering just who let some people drive something high enough to crash it. To put it briefly, the pilot looked like he required a keeper.

  The tall, gangly man who turned to meet the women was apparently of an age with Maev, with a pleasant, amiable face, an unruly shock of sandy hair and a beard. He wore a short sleeved khaki shirt over matching shorts, both badly worn and stained, completing his sartorial splendor with heavy socks and badly scuffed hiking boots. To top off the picture, he was wearing the first pair of spectacles Frenchy had seen since Earth. Not glasses, mind you, but real spectacles that complimented his slightly befuddled expression. Frenchy though she'd never seen anyone more entirely without a clue in her whole life.

  The pilot, for his part, was somewhat bemused by the picture that confronted him. The contrast between the big, barbarically dressed blonde and the svelte, nude brunette was enough to hold the attention of any healthy male. Putting the two beautiful and very feminine women atop the brute bulk of the gorts made the scene something out of a fantasy magazine cover. Add to that the fact that Frenchy was favoring him with a slightly antagonistic frown, while Maev's only expression was one of curious interest, and it was enough to make a man wonder where a bright sunny day was going.

  Best find out, he thought. "Hello, ladies. Something I can do for you?"

  Frenchy was put slightly off stride by the mild question, but recovered her poise quickly enough. She was willing to help him if he was legitimate, but she was not about to let down her guard so soon. "What are you doing out here? What happened to your ship?" She found herself asking the questions with a harder edge to her voice than she originally intended.

  He smiled back in a way that made Frenchy suspect that he was older and far more experienced than he first appeared. "Well, I was heading from the Port to Tazzerand Station on business when someone started shooting. I took a few hits but managed to evade most of the fire, came down here, and now we all three have a problem."

  Frenchy snorted. As far as she was concerned, he was the only one with a problem. "Just what might that be?"

  He pointed back to the open hatch. "Shot disabled my thrust pile regulator. The governor's malfunctioned and inverted the power flow. If I can't pull the governor out, the pile will blow and everything as far as we can see will be flat, black and radioactive.

  "Hi," he added in the same amiable voice he'd used all along. "My name's Evan Calos. What's yours?"

  "Erk-- Frenchy," she replied in a slightly strangled voice. She was suddenly at a complete loss for what to do next. She was supposed to be the leader, right? She was supposed to make some kind of decision, wasn't she? Were they really about to get nuked?

  Maev came to her rescue. In a voice only slightly edgy due to nerves, she asked, "Since you've got the problem diagnosed, have you got a puller to get the governor out?"

  Evan shook his head, still looking boyishly innocent. "No specialized tools to speak of. I've got the governor loose, but I'll have to pull it by hand.

  "Now," he rambled on, sketching a salute at the women, "if you'll wait for a minute, I'll get it out and then we can talk, but I really have to be at it. She'll blow in about ten minutes if I don't"

  Well that was a relief! He knew how to fix it and was in the process when they rode up. Frenchy was starting to relax when she noticed the strained expression on Maev's face. Things suddenly began to look tense again.

  She hated to ask, but she knew she was going to have to do it. "Uh, Maev? Is there a problem with what he's doing?" She was proud of how mild her voice sounded.

  Maev's voice was tense as she replied, and that tension scared Frenchy as much as anything. "Yes. The governor is located in the center of a magnetically charged ring used as a particle accelerator. If it touches any part of the ring before it's entirely decoupled, it'll short out the pile and cause a massive detonation. We normally use a puller to get the thing out safely. I've heard of it being done by hand, but never saw it or wanted to!"

  She looked at Frenchy with grim resignation. "I hope he's got a lot of strength and nerve, because that's what it takes. If not, we won't even be dust.

  "Know any prayers?"

  Frenchy guiltily admitted to herself she didn't, and turned to nervously watch the man bent into the access hatch. Suddenly, she decided things were going to be all right. In the movies, James Bond was always taking apart nuclear warheads for odds and ends, usually under the same degree of strain and tension, and he survived. Besides, she was the Amazon Queen of Outer Space and, especially in B movies, the heroine always survived. She brightened considerably.

  Maev noticed her expression and stared at her in dumfounded wonderment. Frenchy looked almost happy! Was that woman nuts?

  The women heard a muffled grunt from inside the hatch and, before they had time to wince, Evan emerged, holding a cylinder in his hands. "Got you, you little rascal."

  He walked over to Frenchy and Maev, holding the thing up for them to see. "That's the little so-and-so that tried to blow us up."

  Abruptly, he tossed it to Frenchy, who managed to catch it. She examined it curiously for a moment, before realizing she had not the slightest idea what she was looking at. Evan, watching her, mused out loud, "You know, it was the funniest thing. I was having a hell of a time pulling that little beast out of its mounts when, all of a sudden, I was perfectly certain it was easy to do. Went right ahead and did it after that. No problem. Damnedest thing I've ever done - I think."

  Maev, watching Frenchy's examination of the governor, looked up with surprise at Evan's speech. Her eyes widened further when he shrugged in a matter-of-fact manner, turned, and ambled casually back to the flier, intent on salvaging his gear. Another thought struck her, and she looked at Frenchy with equal bemusement.

  What little Evan had in the way of personal items and weapons was quickly removed from the wrecked flier and stowed on the third gort, now his. The beast, formerly the possession of the late unlamented Yert, took to its new rider in placid stride. Evan, for his part, seemed totally unworried about his abilities to go places via gort.

  In fact, Frenchy noticed a few minutes later, Evan seemed considerably more accustomed to the saddle than she herself was, and she'd been on gortback for close to two weeks. That assessment didn't really surprise her. There seemed more to Evan than met the eye. She was also nursing a steadily growing feeling that he was familiar to her in some way, and that was something
she wanted to solve. Besides, she needed to know more about this particular refugee. "Evan?"

  "Um?"

  "You said you were going to Tazzerand Station. Why there? Also, why would anyone want to shoot at you?"

  Evan favored her with a shy grin. "Well, I'm a sculptor. The Painted Earth Tribe wanted me to spend a little time and work up some new designs for their ceramic ware. Seems they're thinking about broadening their markets."

  He looked away in thought and rubbed his beard. "As for getting shot at... I won't tell you this was my first time, but it sure was the least deserved. All I was doing was rambling along normally and whango. Things started going to hell in a hurry. Lucky I was able to get down."

  Maev examined him with a critical eye. "Combat pilot experience?"

  Evan nodded. "Done it a time or two."

  "You know," she said to Frenchy, "I think I believe him. The Painted Earth folks trade out of Tazzerand and I happen to know they are hot for a new market. I suppose they could have brought in outside design help.

  "As for the shooting," she continued "I think he just chanced to cruise over the place we're looking for. I bet he was shot down by the smugglers' guns."

  "Hm," Evan said absently, "ought to do something about that. I really don't like getting shot at. They might hurt me, or something."

  Frenchy was starting to get exasperated with this dodo. "Look, pal! These guys play rough. Maev and I both know a little bit about how to take care of ourselves and we've already tangled with these guys. We're on our way to get some help to take them on again. I don’t think you need to be in the way."

  Evan shrugged. "Guess I'll come along. Won't be in the way. This sounds like fun. Sculpture can wait."

  Frenchy fumed. Of all the dumb things to do. A damned ivory tower artist that didn't know one end of a gun from the other, and this jerk wanted to go play with the big boys! At the moment, she was too irked to mull over her own inexperience. She was about to say something appropriate when Maev beat her to it with a question.