“We’ll see about that,” Keplok said grimly.
The Palorkan scratched the gill flap beneath his ear opening. “Did I say fifteen? I meant ten.”
“I could’ve sworn you said eight.”
“Did I? Perhaps I did.”
“I think I’ll keep looking.”
“Not necessary. Shall we say five credits? I can wrap it up for you if you like. Or would you prefer a scabbard so you can wear it now? I see you are quite unarmed. A very dangerous situation.”
Althea could barely hold back her laughter. Apparently, not all Palorkans were argumentative thugs. Some were more along the lines of natural-born salesmen.
“Four credits including the scabbard and a sharpening stone,” said Keplok, who also seemed to have an excellent grasp of the fine art of haggling.
“Done!” the Palorkan exclaimed. Considering the cheerful vibes emanating from the Palorkan, Althea suspected Keplok should’ve tried for three credits. However, since he also seemed happy with the price, she saw no need to intervene.
Once the transaction was complete, Keplok quickly buckled on the sword belt, sheathed the blade, and pocketed the stone. “I am also in the market for a pet for my nephew. Do you know of any small primates for sale?”
“Ah, that would be in another district.” The salesman pointed to his right, where hundreds of Palorkans were gathered around the various stalls strung out along the road leading from the square. “You will find the live animals down at the far end of this street.” He cackled again as he pointed in the opposite direction. “The dead ones are over that way.”
Althea gasped in horror. “You don’t suppose—?”
Dartula tapped her arm and spoke softly. “The trader who gave us the tip said they were alive when he saw them. We can only hope they’ve remained that way. Otherwise, this journey was for naught.”
Larry nodded. “Considering the length of time it would’ve taken that guy to get back to Statzeel to tell you what he’d seen and for you two to come this far, they might’ve all been sold by now, alive or dead.”
Dartula shook her head. “The trader sent a deep space com right after he left Palorka, and we set out almost immediately. If he was telling the truth, there may still be time.”
“Let’s hope so,” Althea said, although given the distance between Palorka and Statzeel, she had her doubts. “But if they couldn’t sell them as pets, they may have opted to sell them for meat.”
“Not much meat on them, actually,” Keplok said as he rejoined the group. “They would be worthless as a food source.”
Larry shrugged. “That depends on how hungry you are. If you’d been stranded on JR-51 on the return trip, you might’ve been tempted to eat a few of them yourselves.”
Dartula and Keplok both recoiled as though they’d been slapped. “We would never do such a thing,” Dartula insisted.
“You’ve obviously never been hungry enough,” Larry said with a snort.
* * *
Larry had never been that hungry himself, but he’d encountered plenty of beings who were. “I’m just saying it’s a possibility.” He glanced around. “Right now, we’d better move on before we start attracting attention.”
He led the way down the street with Althea on his left and Brak on his right. Being two and a half meters tall when standing at his full height, Brak would’ve been able to scout out the way ahead without any trouble. However, despite Althea’s assurance that he could easily defend himself, he opted to keep what must’ve been the Scorillian version of a low profile. Folding his wings, he tucked his pincers close to his body and kept his head level with Larry’s.
Althea sneezed and wiped the grit from her face. “We should’ve brought along face masks to filter out the dust. As dry as it is here, I can’t imagine why the Palorkans would ever need those gills.”
“There are oceans on this world,” Brak said. “This is simply one of the desert regions.” He stretched an eyestalk to the left, apparently taking in a flurry of activity across the street where three children were squabbling over some trinket or other. “One of the poorer desert regions.”
“Yeah. Not sure I’ll find many repair jobs around here—none that pay very much anyway,” Larry said. “Although this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been paid with something other than credits.” Fortunately, he could exchange most forms of payment on other planets, and anytime he couldn’t find anyone willing to trade, his mother nearly always knew someone who would. “I’ve never seen so much useless junk in my life.”
Most of what was being sold was scrap metal and bits of cloth barely big enough to make into anything. Rusty tools and broken clay pots abounded. He saw a few cups and bowls that might’ve held water, but most were so chipped and cracked as to be unusable.
“I can’t imagine what they do with all this stuff,” Althea said. “Unless they grind it up and make something out of the powder.”
“That’s possible,” Larry agreed. “Maybe they mix it with some sort of resin to form new objects.”
“I believe it is only junk being sold by beings desperate to earn a living.”
Larry had to think twice before convincing himself that Keplok was the one who’d spoken. “You’re probably right. Let’s keep moving.”
As they progressed along the street, the quality of goods available for purchase improved. “I think we came in on the cheap end of the road,” Larry commented.
“Yeah. The merchandise looks a little classier here,” Althea said. “Cleaner too.”
Larry nodded, although classy wasn’t the word he would’ve chosen. Clearly, Al had been living in the jungle too long.
In the next block, there were actually craftsmen selling their wares, some even demonstrating their skills while working on new items in between sales.
“Now, this is more what I would call classy,” Larry said. “I might actually buy some of those dishes. Lots nicer than the ones I have. More colorful.”
Althea picked up a perfectly shaped bowl that had been glazed with an intricate design. “I never would’ve expected this level of craftsmanship on a world with such a reputation for violence.”
“Guess they aren’t all belligerent thugs.”
“Neither are all Statzeelian males.” Keplok surprised him again. Was he trying to redeem himself? Or was he turning over a new leaf?
I’ll believe that when I see it.
Still, they were brothers. Perhaps their father’s influence was stronger than the deleterious effects of his upbringing.
Nature versus nurture.
“Stay sharp,” Dartula whispered. “I see animals up ahead.”
Having passed through the arts and crafts area, the live animals were indeed in the next block.
Althea wrinkled her nose. “Good thing the food vendors aren’t set up around here. I wondered what that weird smell was. Now we know.”
Larry had never seen such an assortment of creatures in his life, not even in any of the zoos they’d visited when he was a child. As they passed by the cages, each occupant was more bizarre than the next. Some of the species he recognized, but they were all different from the norm in some manner, be it their coloring or the amount of fur. There were dogs with hair so long, it had to be braided into dreadlocks. Birds that rivaled the coloring of those on Barada Seven. Cats with fur like rainbows. And so many small primates, the Guardians could easily be missed.
“Oh my.” Althea’s voice sounded faint as she sagged against him. “I’m not feeling very well.”
“Is it the smell or seeing so many caged critters?” He’d forgotten that Althea had always found a reason to stay aboard the ship when they visited the zoos. He’d never given much thought as to why that was. Until now.
“I don’t know.” She put a hand to her head. “All of a sudden I feel sort of…weak.”
He wiped a ha
nd over her forehead, which was covered with beads of sweat. “You look a little pale too. Need something to drink? I brought along a flask of fuuslak juice. Thought we might need it to sweeten the disposition of the natives.” He pulled the flask from his pocket and unscrewed the lid. “Here you go,” he said as he held it to her lips.
She took a long drink but didn’t appear to be greatly improved. “It’s so hot and airless here.”
“Maybe you should sit down for a while,” he suggested. A quick scan of the vicinity yielded a stone bench set beneath a ragged, dusty-brown awning attached to a nearby building. “There’s a bench over there in the shade.” Without bothering to ask if she needed help, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her while Dartula and Keplok looked on with concern.
“She is…ill?” Keplok asked.
“Not sure,” Larry replied. “Could be the heat.”
Brak moved closer, his eyestalks stretched to their limit as he peered at Althea. “Shall I fan her with my wings?”
“If we were anywhere else, that would probably help,” Larry said. “But I’m afraid it would stir up too much dust.”
“Probably so.”
When they reached the bench, Larry turned toward the nearest merchant, a female Palorkan who was selling orange Delfian turtles. “Okay if she sits here for a while?”
The woman nodded. “There is no charge for sitting.”
To be honest, he was a little surprised to hear that. “Thanks.” After settling Althea on the stone bench, he sat down beside her, as much to keep her upright as to remain nearby. “Any other reason you can think of?” He leaned closer and whispered, “Like visions or empathic impressions?”
“Maybe. I’m not really sure.” Even whispering, her voice sounded weaker than normal. “It happened so fast. I was close to the primates, but I didn’t see any of the Guardians.”
“We’ll keep looking,” Brak said. “You two stay here.”
Fearing that the Statzeelians might be recognized as natives of that world, Larry had hoped to keep them in the background while he and Althea searched for the Guardians. Hopefully Brak could keep them out of trouble.
What am I thinking?
Given Keplok’s aversion to Scorillians, Brak’s presence would probably cause more trouble than it prevented.
“And this day started off so well,” he muttered.
“Sorry,” Althea said with a wan smile.
“You aren’t the problem.” He looked up to find Brak still eyeing Althea with that freakish glare. “Sounds good. We’ll catch up with you as soon as she’s feeling better. If that changes, I’ll let you know.” Thankfully, he’d taken the time to outfit everyone with combadges in case they had to split up.
On a world like Palorka, communication was vital.
Chapter 21
Moving away from the primate section helped to clear Althea’s head enough to realize she’d been very close to whatever she’d sensed in the startling dream she’d had.
Except this was far worse than any dream.
Emotions had struck her with the force of a pulse blast, leaving her helpless to resist the deluge. She’d been looking for magic. She never imagined it would be quite so strong.
She couldn’t even be certain that the Guardians were the cause, although she considered them to be the most likely source. If so, this could pose a significant problem for the return trip to Rhylos, because she doubted she could remain in close proximity to them and still function.
Time slipped away as she closed her eyes and let Jack’s tale of the Guardians’ role in saving Larry’s father replay through her memory. One of the tiny primates had placed a wad of chewed-up leaves on Cat’s worst wound, pressed Jack’s hand over it, and then made a strange whirring sound, almost as if it were singing. In this manner, the Guardian had kept Cat’s life force connected to his body until a Zerkan healer arrived to complete the healing process. After spending two days in the restorative sleep common to Zetithians, Cat awoke, completely recovered.
And they’re selling these little miracles in a dusty Palorkan market.
We can’t allow that!
She sat up straighter and opened her eyes. Lengthening shadows marked the passage of time, along with the reduction in dust and the size of the crowd. “I’m okay now.”
Larry combed a lock of damp hair back from her face with his fingertips. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. The fuuslak juice helped, and I know what caused the episode now. It was the Guardians. They’re here. I can feel them.”
“I figured as much. Those critters must give off some really powerful vibes.”
“Almost more than I could bear. But I know what they are now. I’ll be okay.”
“Was the impression anything…specific?”
She shook her head. “It might’ve been anger or despair. Whatever it was, it was incredibly strong. So strong, I’m surprised no one else felt it.”
He smiled. “That’s your job, Al. To the rest of us, they’re just cute little monkeys with big brown eyes.”
“They’re so much more than that,” she whispered. “Healers of the body, mind, and spirit… We have to save them.”
“We’ll do our best,” Larry promised. “Right now, we need to catch up with Brak and the Dynamic Duo. They haven’t reported back, which means they haven’t found anything or they’re already in trouble up to their eyeballs.”
Althea leaned against him, giggling. “So they’re Batman and Robin now?”
He shrugged. “Works for me, although I can’t recall that Batman ever carried a sword. They probably wouldn’t get the reference anyway. That’s the trouble with Mom’s influence. Half the people she talks to don’t have a clue as to what she’s talking about, and I’m almost as bad as she is. You wouldn’t believe the stuff I’ve had to explain to Brak. Old slang terms, ancient figures of speech, thousand-year-old expletives…”
“And I know them as well as you do.” She sighed. “We should’ve known we were always meant to be together.”
“I think we had to figure out we had a choice before we could even admit to the possibility.”
“You’re probably right.” She took a deep breath. “Guess we should get moving. I think I can walk now.”
Larry stood and held out his hand. “Onward into the fray, or something of that nature. I can never remember that one.”
She rose to her feet, smiling as she gazed into his glowing eyes. “‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more. Or close the wall up with our English dead.’ That would be Shakespeare’s Henry V. Act III, Scene I.”
“Show-off.” With a wink, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips. “C’mon, Al. Let’s go rescue some magic monkeys.”
* * *
Larry would’ve given a lot to find the Guardians immediately, but no such luck.
“I don’t get it,” Althea said as they strolled past the rows of caged animals. “I was right here when those emotions hit me, but I don’t feel anything now.”
“Which could mean the kidnappers have gotten wise to us and moved them—”
“Or they were never here to begin with.” She wrinkled her nose. “No. They were here. I’m sure of it.” She glanced around. “Looks like some of the vendors have already closed their shops. Maybe we should check back tomorrow.”
“I hope this market isn’t a weekly event,” Larry said. “I really don’t like the idea of hanging around here for another week, but we might have to unless we can track them somehow.” He tapped his combadge. “Hey, Brak. Find anything interesting?”
“Not really,” Brak replied over the link. “We have managed to acquire a few clothes for Dartula and some sort of musical instrument your brother insisted he couldn’t live without. But other than that, nada.”
A headache began behind Larry’s eyeballs. “He didn�
�t have to fight anyone for that instrument, did he?”
Brak crunched his mandibles in a show of irritation that came through loud and clear. “Paid twenty credits for the cursed thing and acted like he got a great deal. It doesn’t look like much to me, but he says it’s worth even more than what he paid.”
“At this rate, he isn’t going to have any credits left to buy supplies for the return trip—or passage on a ship back to Statzeel.” Larry didn’t exactly relish the idea of having to take them there himself. A voyage like that could take months, with or without the monkeys.
“Seems to have plenty of ready cash. Either that or he has a really terrific credit rating.” Brak hesitated. “How is Althea feeling? Better, I hope.”
“I’m okay,” Althea replied. “Where are you?”
“We went all the way down to the end of the street without finding what we were looking for, so we looped around to the other side.” Brak made an odd chirping sound. “We haven’t found any of that special meat for sale, either. At least, none that is labeled as such.”
Finally, some good news. “Glad to hear it. We’re going to look around some more and then we’ll meet you somewhere in the middle.”
“Understood.”
Larry tapped his badge to break the link, then said quietly, “Did you notice how careful he was not to mention exactly what it is we’re after?”
“Yeah. At least one of us has some sense. Keplok probably thought he was playing it cool asking about small primates, but that could’ve tipped someone off. Granted, he doesn’t look like the typical Statzeelian, but you never know who might be watching.”
“The guy he bought the sword from might’ve ratted on us,” Larry mused. “Although if they were really worried, they would’ve cleared out before you ever got wind of them.”
“Unless they were in the process of being moved when I sensed them.” She put a hand to her head. “I could still be wrong about that. I mean, I want to believe it was them, but until we actually find them—”
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