According to his mother, swergs were about the nastiest beasties she’d ever encountered—and she’d been to plenty of different planets even before she teamed up with his father. She described them as being like a cross between a bear, a saber-toothed tiger, a wild boar, and a Drell—the Drell component being the dreadlocks that covered their dog-sized bodies. Larry, for one, was glad he’d never run across anything remotely like them.
“Doesn’t matter. I just want to get this over with and go home.”
“Any idea how you’re going to get those monkeys back if you do find them? Buy them, steal them, or break open their cages and hope they’ll follow you back to the ship?”
“Getting them back to our ship was Keplok’s job,” she replied. “He’s always had a special rapport with the Guardians. As hateful as he is to everyone else, it’s hard to believe they actually seem to like him.”
“No accounting for taste,” Larry muttered. “What were your plans once you got them aboard?”
“Our ship was equipped to handle hundreds of them. We had a jungle habitat set up in the main hold and plenty of food. Not sure what we’re going to do now.”
Larry didn’t have to give much thought to his reply. “I have cargo space but no monkey food and no jungle. I hope they aren’t too picky.”
“It’s difficult to say. The Guardians have always been elusive creatures. Seldom seen, but extremely important to our culture for their role as healers of the spirit. If it weren’t for that, I would’ve given up when we lost our ship. We might not have had a choice if you hadn’t been close enough to pick us up.”
“That reminds me… How did you know we were on our way to Palorka?”
Dartula was silent long enough for him to assume she was engaged in a lively inner debate. When she finally spoke again, she seemed hesitant, her expression wary. “If I tell you, will you promise you’ll still help us?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve come this far, and there’s a job waiting for me on Palorka.”
She winced. “No, there isn’t. We figured if you had a job lined up, you would head this way, and then we’d send out a distress call. I sent the work requests through a relay on Palorka so the source wouldn’t be so obvious.”
“Damn. Althea said you were hiding something.” If he hadn’t been so irritated with her, he would’ve praised her ingenuity. “I really don’t like being jerked around. All you had to do was ask. I would’ve helped you.”
“That’s my fault,” she said, at least having the decency to sound apologetic. “After you fixed our comsystem, I got the distinct impression you didn’t care for Keplok.”
He snorted. “Ya think?”
With a tight smile, she continued, “So when we had engine trouble and had to land, I knew we would have to sweeten the deal a little. We’ll pay you what we can—at least as much as the repair job would’ve paid.”
“If you’d told me the real story up front, I would’ve taken you to Palorka free of charge.” He arched a brow. “This is the real story, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely true,” she replied. “Every word.” She held up a hand. “I will swear to it if you like.”
He exhaled slowly and deliberately, hoping the breath leaving his lungs would take a modicum of his anger with it. He couldn’t really blame her for doing what she’d done, particularly given the partner she had to work with. What bugged him was being deemed so shallow that he would refuse to help with an important mission simply because Keplok annoyed him.
“Never mind,” he said. “We’re almost there anyway. In the meantime, you might want to give some thought to how those monkeys will handle the return trip. It’s a long damn way to Statzeel.”
“True. Which makes me wonder how many of them made it this far. They’re not particularly delicate creatures, but no telling what sort of conditions they’ve been subjected to.”
“You never know,” Larry drawled. “They may like where they are better than the jungle. A nice, cozy cage and regular meals with the potential for becoming someone’s pampered pet? Maybe they won’t want to go home. Ever think of that?”
Her slack jaw suggested she hadn’t. “But to be captured and taken from their natural habitat… I can’t imagine…”
“Look, my mother tracked her kidnapped sister halfway across the galaxy before she finally found her on Statzeel, and by that time, she didn’t need—or want—rescuing. I’m only saying these Guardians might like their new homes better than the one they had.”
Doubt clouded her features. “I suppose it’s possible. Not very likely, though.”
He shrugged. “Consider it food for thought. You might also give some thought to what we’ll be feeding them. I can’t see Brak sharing his White Castles with a bunch of monkeys, no matter how cute they are.”
“Feeding them was to have been the least of our worries,” she said. “Having to buy more food was an expense we hadn’t foreseen.”
In Larry’s opinion, a lot of things about their mission smacked of a spur-of-the-moment adventure. Case in point, the lousy ship they’d chosen for the journey. If the Guardians were as important as they were reputed to be, he would have expected that no expense would be spared to ensure their prompt and successful rescue.
“This mission of yours,” he began. “It doesn’t seem very well thought out. Or did you have trouble getting backing for it?”
“Secrecy was deemed crucial to the outcome. That and not causing panic on Statzeel.”
“Panicked Statzeelians?” Considering the volatility of the males, widespread panic might cause severe disruptions throughout their society, although that result seemed a little extreme. “I get that the Guardians are important to your people, but panic? Seriously?”
“Maybe that’s too strong a word. Loss of faith perhaps? That such magical creatures could be trapped and taken against their will goes against many of the beliefs that surround them.”
He nodded. “Proving they aren’t quite so magical after all. I still don’t understand the severity of the threat, but if it’s as momentous as you say it is, seems like they would’ve sent more than two of you to find them. You might be up against a huge gang of kidnappers.”
“Keplok insisted that he could handle the job, and the elders believed his claim. No idea why.”
“Maybe they know something about him that you don’t.”
She snorted. “More like they don’t know him well enough. Like every other Statzeelian man, he might wear a sword when he’s riding a horse, but he’s a freakin’ musician. I don’t see how that qualifies him to lead a rescue mission.”
Larry chuckled. “Ever hear of the Pied Piper? Maybe the monkeys like the way Keplok sings well enough to follow him anywhere.”
“If they do, they’ll be the first.” After a moment’s hesitation, she blew out a rueful breath and shook her head. “No. That’s not true. Plenty of people like that band. Sometimes I think I must be the only one who doesn’t.”
Larry considered this difference to be highly significant. However, seeing no need to rile her up any further, he chose to keep mum. “I’m sure there are others who share your opinion. And as far as your rescue mission goes, Keplok’s methods don’t matter as much as having a plan—and plenty of credits for monkey chow.”
That he might have enough cash to buy another ship was too much to hope for.
Chapter 20
Althea had been to Palorka more than once during her youth—very few civilized planets weren’t on Jack Tshevnoe’s trading route. However, if she remembered correctly, she’d had sense enough to remain aboard the ship whenever it landed there.
The reasons for that became clear the moment the gangplank was lowered and she stepped outside into the oppressive afternoon heat. Despite their location on the plain surrounding the spaceport outside Thewbeohol, dust filled the air, creating a haze that hung over the city like
a pall. As they walked through the outskirts and into the heart of the city, she noted that nearly all the buildings were made of the same dingy yellow stone. Any decorative touches to the architecture, if indeed there had ever been any such thing, had been worn away long ago. The air was stagnant, thick with heat, dust, and a peculiar scent that she assumed was specific to the natives. Built like oversized gorillas, the Palorkans had heads like geckos with gill slits on either side of their necks, walked upright, and were covered with scaly, tan-colored skin. Most were dressed in leather vests and short trousers made of a coarse brown fabric, and every last one of them was armed in some fashion.
“Jack must really love this planet,” she muttered. Open carry laws were becoming increasingly rare throughout the galaxy, and as fond as Jack was of Tex, her trusty pulse pistol, being able to carry it in a holster strapped to her thigh must have been a plus, even with all the dust.
“Not really,” said Larry, whose own holstered sidearm was as conspicuous as any of the natives’ weapons. “To the best of my knowledge, she hasn’t been here in years. Got in an argument with one of the natives that turned violent in a hurry. Claimed the scheming shithead had cheated her on a deal.” He grinned. “Her words, not mine.”
Althea slipped an arm around his waist and leaned closer, giggling. “I really miss her.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Pulling her into a one-armed hug, he planted a kiss on the side of her head.
They hadn’t gone much farther when one of the locals came barreling toward them, shouldering his way past anyone in his path, which, unfortunately, included Keplok.
Glaring after the Palorkan, Keplok made a grab for his nonexistent weapon. “I really wish I had my sword.”
“If you’d been wearing the cursed thing when they picked us up, you might still have it,” Dartula snapped. “I don’t see how—”
“Please don’t start picking on each other again,” Larry begged. “We’re going to have enough trouble with the locals. We don’t need the two of you duking it out in the street.”
“I dunno…” Althea began. “Might draw enough of a crowd that we can sneak around and find where they’re keeping the Guardians.”
“On any other world, that might be true,” Larry said. “Violence is too common here.”
As if to illustrate his point, a fight broke out across the street and quickly escalated into the Palorkan version of a Wild West showdown.
Evidently, Larry had no wish to stick around for the outcome, for he immediately steered her around the corner and down a side street, leaving the others to follow. “What if we put the word out that we’re interested in buying a bunch of pet monkeys?”
“With two Statzeelians in our party?” Althea scoffed. “Considering where those critters came from, who would believe that?”
“For the right price, these guys will believe almost anything,” Larry said with a shrug. “And I did say buy the monkeys, not confiscate them.” He paused for a moment. “I really wish there was an actual job for me here. You know…to make it less obvious that we’re on a rescue mission?” He stroked his chin with a fingertip. “Maybe I should advertise.”
“Not a bad idea,” Althea said. “A few extra credits might come in handy if we end up paying for them, and a job would make a good cover story if we decide to steal them.”
Between all the sex and kisses, she and Larry had discussed the feasibility of taking a large number of monkeys aboard the Stooge, and neither of them had come up with a plan that seemed doable. At least, not without a bundle of ready cash.
She glanced at Dartula. “Are you sure this is the right city?”
The other woman nodded. “The marketplace in Thewbeohol was where the trader suggested we look for them, although I don’t know why the elders would’ve taken him at his word. I can’t help but wonder if he wasn’t in on the kidnapping scheme and sent us to Palorka to throw us off the scent.”
“Be nice if someone else was working that other angle,” Althea muttered. If they were, that might explain why Keplok and Dartula’s expedition had been so poorly equipped.
Dartula pointed toward the bustling square up ahead where stalls as dusty as everything else they’d seen thus far were crammed with equally dusty items for sale. “I believe our best bet would be to walk through the marketplace and hope we stumble onto something.”
Although she normally preferred a more methodical approach, Althea was well aware that sometimes waiting for the magic to reveal itself was the best strategy.
Magic?
If Palorkans had any magical tendencies, she’d never heard of them. Therefore, anything with a magical aura would stand out like a beacon.
Like one of the Guardians.
Hmm…
Larry gave her a squeeze. “Don’cha just love flying by the seat of your pants?”
“Not really,” she replied. “I prefer to have a plan—or at least have Brak navigating for me.”
“Why, thank you, Althea,” Brak said, fluffing his antennae.
The Scorillian had been noticeably silent during the journey from the spaceport. Ever since they’d landed, she’d sensed that he was disturbed about something. Although she had no definitive proof, she suspected that the company he’d been forced to keep might’ve been responsible.
“How come you didn’t fly into the city instead of walking with us?” she asked.
“If the four of you had taken the speeder, I would have,” he replied. “Although this dust poses a significant hazard to flight, not to mention visibility.”
“Tell me again why we are walking?” For once, Keplok’s question sounded more like a request than a demand.
“Because I don’t want one of these thieving amphibians stealing my speeder any more than I wanted that giant worm to eat it,” Larry replied. “If we need to make a quick getaway, we’ll just have to make a run for it.”
“I was hoping our approach would be subtle enough that we wouldn’t have to run,” Dartula said.
Given her partner in this mission, why she would’ve ever thought that would be a possibility, Althea couldn’t fathom. Wishful thinking, perhaps.
“Right now, we’re simply on a fact-finding reconnaissance mission,” Larry said. “Being offworlders makes us conspicuous enough. No need to draw more attention to ourselves than absolutely necessary.”
Brak trotted up closer to Larry. Althea had never seen him move that fast before, a sight she found somewhat disconcerting. “I can’t recall from our last visit,” Brak said, keeping his voice and his head down. “What sort of food do they eat here?”
“I dunno,” Larry replied. “Even when I was here as a kid, I never hung around long enough to sample the local cuisine.”
“Most amphibians eat insects. And the Palorkans are amphibians, aren’t they?” Brak actually sounded worried.
Althea had never given it much thought, but an insectivore would probably see him as a walking, talking feast. Then again, she couldn’t say she’d ever viewed a cow as hamburger on the hoof, although some people might. “They look like amphibious reptiles, if that makes any sense. But if they ever stare at you with hunger in their eyes, you should fly away, dust or no dust.”
“A good plan,” Brak said. “If that happens, I shall desert you posthaste.”
She gave a nearby group of natives a passing glance. “You know, I’d think they’d be more afraid of you than you should be of them. Granted, they’re kinda big and scaly—quite ugly, really—but you have those humongous pincers. I think you could hold your own against a whole pack of them without any trouble.”
“Perhaps,” Brak conceded. “However, I don’t care to test that theory.”
Althea peered into one of the stalls as they approached. “You’re in luck, Brak. They appear to be selling fruits and vegetables. Not an insect-based meal in sight.”
Larry craned his neck to
get a better view of the stall’s contents. “Kinda dusty, though. Not sure I’d want to eat them without a good washing.”
“Good luck finding water to wash them with,” Dartula said with disgust. “The air here is even drier than it was on that worm-infested planet you rescued us from.”
“Starting to miss good ol’ JR-51?” Larry teased. “I can take you back there anytime you like.”
Dartula wrinkled her nose. “Very funny.”
Leaning closer, Larry whispered in Althea’s ear, “Don’t suppose you’re getting any vibes, are you?”
“Plenty of them,” she replied in an equally soft voice. “But nothing to suggest there are any kidnapped monkeys nearby.” Unless they were being tortured, their mental anguish would’ve been lost in the multitude of random emotions.
Althea had always preferred to keep quiet about her Mordrial powers, something Larry obviously remembered. Her abilities might be normal for a Mordrial, but other species tended to view any form of mind reading with suspicion and distrust. Thus far, she and Larry hadn’t discussed her empathic ability within the Statzeelian pair’s hearing, and she saw no need to mention it to them when they might be overheard by a bunch of trigger-happy Palorkans.
“Aha,” Keplok said, and he made a beeline for a nearby vendor.
For a moment, Althea thought he’d spotted one of the monkeys.
That is, until Dartula rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known.”
Keplok was soon engaged in a spirited discussion with a small Palorkan male whose tattered vest and trousers appeared to be even older than he was. Selecting a sword from the rack, Keplok examined it carefully, testing the weight and balance before sighting along the blade. After thumbing the edge, he asked, “How much?”
The old man cackled, revealing double rows of boney ridges that were apparently all that was left of his teeth. “How much have you got?”
With a lift of his brow, Keplok put the sword back on the rack and turned to walk away.
He hadn’t taken more than half a step before the Palorkan called him back. “Fifteen credits, my good man. You’ll not find a better blade for such a reasonable price.”
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