by Iain Benson
“Where could we find such a person?” Vera interrupted the robot in a full vitriol.
“Oh, how would I know, I’m just a glorified car-alarm.”
“I’m sure you do know,” said Xia, sympathetically touching the robot on the arm.
Its head swivelled and tilted to look at her hand.
“You could try the Blue Food Station,” it said, with an electronic sniff. “I understand the ore miners eat there. I can’t understand it myself. Everything about it sounds positively frightful. I can’t stand blue, food is vile and the only thing good ever to come out of a station was the six forty-five from Leeds.”
Xia hit the close door button.
“Thank you for using the close facility,” said the door. “We hope you choose to use us again in such a masterful way in the future.”
“What a very strange ship,” said Vera as they headed back for the lifts.
“Blue Food Station,” Vera said to the lift. After a few moments, it opened up onto the ever present silver corridors. Vera looked at the wall opposite that had the list of facilities at this location. He headed right, shortly arriving at a door that opened even before he reached it, without one word of thanks.
Beyond was a large room, a variety of tables and chairs scattered around it. Set in the wall were food dispensers and display screens showing the station news; the main news on them appeared to be the escape of three prisoners. Vera, London and Xia’s faces were all on show for all to see.
The light in the room had a blue tinge, the air smelled of carrots.
“Are you hungry?” Xia asked as they entered the vast room.
“Always,” Vera replied. “But right now, we do not have time to eat. We are looking for a ship owner.”
“Any ship owner? Or is there one ship owner in particular you have in mind?”
“I do not know anybody with a ship here,” Vera replied.
“Then how will we know who owns a ship?”
Vera grunted. He grabbed a Kurian sitting eating something that could have been a burger, had it contained any bread or identifiable meat. Something shared with many high street burger outlets.
“Hey!” the Kurian said. “Mitts off the jacket, Blue.”
“Do you have a ship?” Vera asked.
“No,” the Kurian replied, adding the modifier to the single word that meant: “Are you an out-right lunatic?”
“Who does have a ship?” Vera leaned in. “Remember that if the person you point to, does not have a ship, I will return and rip your arms off. I am an escaped fugitive, and do not have time for niceties.”
“That one,” the Kurian pointed at another Kurian several tables over. “He takes the ore to Koor.”
“Thank-you,” Vera put him down. “Be hopeful I do not return.”
“Would you really have ripped his arms and legs off?” Xia asked as they headed over to the second Kurian.
“Yes,” Vera replied. “You should never make threats you do not follow through with. He is Kurian, they would grow back.”
Vera towered over the tic-tacs in the room. The Kurian with a ship was eating a fluffy white piece of fluff, shovelling it into its mouth like he was trying to put a duvet in a washing machine.
Vera was standing right in the Kurian’s eye-line.
“I want your ship,” Vera said.
The Kurian swallowed his food. “Tough,” it replied.
“Give me the unlock code,” Vera said.
“Why the fourth-eye would I do that?”
“Otherwise, I will take you with me,” Vera replied.
“That doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” the Kurian pointed out.
Vera pointed over his shoulder at the screens around the room. Every third one was him.
“That is me,” Vera said. “And that is my companion.”
“Why are there two pictures of her?” the Kurian asked.
“She is twice as nasty as me,” Vera replied. “Give me the unlock code.”
“Absolutely not,” the Kurian made a gesture that roughly translated as “please fornicate in another part of the universe.”
Xia had never seen Vera move as fast. Before the Kurian could release the little ‘eep’ noise that indicated being startled in their species, he was dangling by an arm.
“Let’s go,” Vera said to Xia, heading for the lifts, “before the Twirps arrive.”
On the screens around them was a live feed from the free trade area they saw London creating mayhem.
“It looks like James is keeping the Twirps busy,” said Xia.
“They will eventually capture him,” Vera said, calling the lift. “After that, they will turn their attention to us.”
The lift doors opened. Vera dragged the Kurian inside, followed by Xia.
“Flight deck,” Vera said.
The lift headed upwards.
“You’re not having my ship,” said their prisoner.
“I’m having your ship,” said Vera. “The only question is: how many fingers you will have when we leave.”
The lift door opened onto the ubiquitous silver corridor.
“Which way shall we go?” Vera asked grasping the Kurian’s finger. “Remember that if I get caught I will be ejected. I have nothing to lose.”
“Left,” said the Kurian, looking at its finger.
They headed left. After a little while, the Kurian indicated a door. “This is mine,” it said.
They went through onto the dock. At the end was a craft. It was dull grey with a pointed front and a bulbous rear.
Beside it was the locking mechanism. Vera deposited the Kurian next to the box.
“Put in your code,” he told the Kurian.
“I’ll lose my entire livelihood,” the Kurian whimpered.
“Better that than your fingers,” Vera replied.
“My fingers will grow back,” it said.
“But you won’t be able to fly or load ore without them,” Vera said simply. “Either way you’re going to be out of work.”
The Kurian keyed in its code into the box. There was a clunk, indicating that they were free to leave.
“Don’t report your ship stolen until we’re clear of the station,” Vera said.
“What happens if I don’t?”
“They’ll blow your ship up,” Vera said. “If we find my ship, I’ll send a message telling you where your ship is. If we escape, there’s a chance you’ll get your livelihood back, failing that – claim compensation from the station.”
“Good point,” the Kurian said. “Okay.”
Walking towards the ship, Xia looked up in admiration at her big blue friend. “Nicely done, Vera.”
“Kurian are easily manipulated by the threat of pain,” Vera said.
Close up, they could see the dents and pock marks typical of an ore-ship. The markings on the side indicated that the ship once belonged to a mining company. Vera waved his hand over the door open. There was a grinding noise as the door grated its way open. The pair stepped inside.
Xia found herself wondering who she was.
“Weird,” she said.
“Yes,” Vera replied. “Did you just wonder who you were?”
“I did,” Xia admitted.
“There is a telepath on board,” Vera said.
They headed towards the cockpit. The corridor could have done with a clean. There was a fine dust over every surface making them appear slightly reddish. The ammonia smell pervaded everything, much more so than on the station. Xia wondered what she was doing here, and what she thought she was doing.
The cockpit was circular, a large screen on the fore wall, two thin chairs with tall backs were surrounded by computer equipment. Between the chairs was a raised platform. A small blue woolly creature with one single eyestalk was in the centre of the platform. The eyestalk flicked from Xia to Vera and back again.
“You’re the telepath?” Vera asked.
“Yes,” the telepath replied, although it was more like Vera remembering it w
as right.
“I’d rather you did not go rummaging through my head,” Vera said.
“Too late,” the pompom replied. “My name is Bonbon.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Vera said. “We need to leave.”
“Correct,” said Bonbon. “There are eight Twirks approaching this dock.”
Suddenly, Vera and Xia knew how to operate this craft. They each chose a chair and quickly went through the start-up sequence.
“We need to go along the docks,” Xia said. “James will be there.”
“James will have to look after himself,” said Vera. “If we do that now, they’ll destroy us. We need to get out of the station.”
“James distracted them so we could get a ship, and save us all,” Xia reminded him.
“He knew the risks,” Vera said, without any trace of remorse.
“That seems a little callous,” said Bonbon in their heads. “Perhaps I can help?”
“How?” asked Xia.
“This James,” asked Bonbon, “his mind is like yours, Xia. I can find him.”
“Where is he?”
“He is being taken to the judiciary,” Bonbon told them. “They will expel him immediately.”
Vera and Xia understood how they could rescue London. Xia took the controls, manoeuvring the craft away from the dock, away from the guards who had arrived on the dock as they pulled away. She smoothly avoided all the other traffic heading for the exit. The communication indicator showed her she was being hailed by the station control, but she ignored it and travelled as fast as she dared keeping close to the buildings so that they wouldn’t fire at them.
As Xia headed out of the exit into open space, Vera headed towards the aft. He took the lift down to the hold. It was a large cavernous space with bays for holding ore. The air smelled metallic, the light was diffuse. Dust from a hundred ore runs highlighted the beams from the feeble lights. Vera grabbed an air-tank, an ore sack, a tether lasso and started putting on a miner’s suit.
Xia swung the ship around on leaving the entry, heading along the side of the station. On the big view screen, she could see the rock that station was hollowed out of, metallic protuberances giving obstacles to be avoided. In her mind, Bonbon was directing her to a specific spot on the surface of the station. She guided the craft less than a metre above the surface, weaving between the spires.
In the hold, Vera sealed the suit and clipped his tether to the hook by the rear hatch. He hit the button to extract all the air from the hold, and opened the hatch. The rocky surface of the station was whipping underneath the ship at an alarming pace.
There was no jolt as the craft came to a stop.
“Now,” said Bonbon in Vera’s head.
Vera grabbed the ore sack and air tank and pushed out from the back off the craft, floating into the darkness, the lights from the station blocking any pinprick of the stars, but not that of the lights of approaching station vehicles. There was always something magical to Vera when he was weightless and floating in the vast void. He couldn’t feel the slight tug of the station and its gravity, but he knew it was there. He enjoyed the moment of euphoria, before he saw the crystalline puff of instantly freezing air closely followed by James London, already unconscious. Vera took aim with the lasso, the cable snaking out like an iron rod, wrapping round London’s foot. He was pulled towards Vera and straight into the ore sack with the air-tank. He sealed it, feeling gratification that it inflated with the air.
Vera pulled himself inside, behind him, the station started to recede as Xia pulled their ore ship away from the station. Behind it, the dead sun still managed a feeble sunrise, arcing over the station, but it went unseen as the ship headed off towards the vastness of the empty reaches of space.
In the cockpit, Xia saw that the hatch door was closed and hit the interstellar drive.
Chapter 6
In which London learns to speak
London was quite surprised when he opened his eyes and saw a gently arced white roof and a waft of ammonia in his nostrils.
A shape swam into view. It resolved itself into Xia.
“When I said I needed to be expelled to escape, I didn’t mean literally,” London croaked. His throat felt like he’d breathed sandpaper.
Xia passed London some water.
“Welcome back to the living, James,” she said.
London suddenly remembered what had happened; even though he’d not been there.
“Weird,” he said.
“James, meet Bonbon,” Xia said.
London propped himself up on his elbows. He was in a semi-circular room, with a big display screen taking up one wall. It was big enough to make the most avid large screen television addict weep with envy. It was currently showing nothing at all.
London drank his water.
“Thanks for the rescue,” he said.
“It was touch and go if we could,” Vera simply said. “We dared not stop within the station, for fear of being recaptured.”
“Sensible,” said London. “Although I have to admit, I was more than a little worried. What would have happened if you’d not made it in time?”
“Had we been unsuccessful I would not have sort revenge on those that ejected you. I am afraid you do not mean enough to me.”
“Where are we?” London climbed to his feet, letting the information on his importance slide.
He felt light headed and shaky. That might be natural for somebody who’d spent nearly ten seconds in a vacuum at a few degrees above absolute zero. His ribs hurt, his eyes felt gritty with blurry vision and even his hearing felt blurry. On the plus side, his skin felt wonderfully smooth. He could probably market it as a beauty treatment if he got home.
“In the cockpit,” said Vera. “I’m afraid I can be no more specific.”
“Are we away from the station?”
“Yes, we have had a successful escape,” Vera tapped his nose in appreciation. “I provide many thanks to your diversionary tactics.”
London took a moment. Something was bothering him. Something at the edge of his brain, slipping away as though he’d gone upstairs for it, and needed to go back down in order to remember what it was.
He realised. “How come I can now understand everything you’re saying, and,” he added with emphasis, “you can understand me.”
“Bonbon taught you Standard,” Xia said, indicating the blue pompom that London had overlooked as being a rear-view mirror decoration.
“You’re forgiven,” Bonbon said. London realised that he had the feeling that the telepath had forgiven him, but that these weren’t his thoughts. “It was quite tricky, your brain is already stuffed with lots of stuff you don’t need.”
“Thank you,” London said. “That particular skill could render our entire education set-up redundant.”
“It’s all right for you,” said Xia. “I had to learn it the hard way.”
“You mean like with a language course?”
“No, with beatings when I got it wrong, only eating when I could ask for the food. I didn’t have any Cantonese or Italian speakers anywhere.”
“I can see how that’s harder than just having it stuffed in your head like putting away clean underwear,” said London. “Speaking of which, how do we go about getting our clothes clean? I’m afraid the vacuum of space caused evacuation from more than just my lungs.”
London remembered the location of all the ship’s facilities. He looked at the pompom. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” replied the blue fur ball. “I’m glad you asked. I thought it was your natural odour.”
London visited the shower room and showered while his clothes were cleaned. The only problem with the shower was its size. It was tic-tac sized. London had a shower on his knees; even then, it was a tight squeeze, as the cubicle wasn’t anywhere near spacious. Even an estate agent would have been hard pressed to call it anything other than tiny. Given the pain in his calf, a less negative description was ‘cramped’.
; Half an hour later, his clothes had been washed (or replaced by the washing machine). He put them back on, grabbed another glass of water from the galley and returned to the cockpit feeling much more human and alert.
“Where are we going?” London asked as he came in.
Vera was leaning back in the right hand chair tossing small puffy shapes in his cavernous mouth. Xia was leaning over one off the consoles, tapping it occasionally. As London got closer, they were either being attacked by pirates or it was a computer game. Given Xia looked slightly bored, London guessed the latter. Bonbon could have been asleep, its eyestalk was drooping.
London leaned against the door after it closed.
“We’re going to a place called Phu Tung,” Xia said. “It’s essentially a junk yard.”
“Do we need spare parts?” London asked. “Oh, and on the way, could you see your way to dropping me off at home?”
“We will return you to your home,” said Vera. “But first, I will get my ship back.”
London indicated the whole ship by swinging an arm. “You have a ship.”
“I need my ship,” said Vera. “Like you, I want to get home. These slow moving rusting wrecks are barely able to get about in this galaxy. Give them a long journey, and they’re more likely to turn to dust than get you there. I would rather regain my ship before that happens to this one.”
“Where’s your ship?” London asked.
“I have no idea as to its current location,” Vera admitted. “But I do know who took it. Although, I believe it is highly unlikely he is still in possession of it.”
“What happened?” London asked.
“We were ship-jacked,” Xia said with a shrug. “Vera pissed off some nasty people.”
“Why do that?” London asked. “Were you new to the neighbourhood?”
“I had been in the vicinity for some time,” Vera said. “I am looking for the being that killed my family.”
“I think I’ve seen that movie,” London said. “What was it? Husband to a murdered wife, father to a murdered son, that sort of thing?”
“He murdered my whole family,” said Vera. “Including my third cousin twice removed on my mother’s side, all twenty of my partners, and every single child they have ever bourn me.”