The woman behind the counter raised her eyebrows, and smiled.
“Being a dutiful nephew, are you?” she asked. “You didn’t leave your aunt to swelter in a vehicle in the parkade while you came to check out this place, I hope?”
“No,” Lank answered with a chuckle. “She’s actually visiting an acquaintance. It seemed like a good time for me to settle us in, while she’s sitting in the shade, drinking iced water with a lady she knows. And I don’t have to sit there like a good boy, and pretend to be interested in their chit-chat.”
“A young man with a working brain, then. Yeah, we have rooms; middle of the summer is usually pretty quiet here. I can even put you into two that share a bath between them, would that do? The cost is a little bit less than if you go with separate baths—but then, I guess it depends on your financial situation.”
Lank asked to compare prices, and quickly decided to go with the shared bath. He was used to the arrangement from travels on Vultaire; during that trip five or six people had often shared two rooms that had a bath between them. The males on one side, the women on the other, and they had never had any problems. And Mikki’s was not cheap; it made sense to take advantage of the small economy.
“The guard also said that I could drop my aunt here before taking our flit to the parkade,” he then said. “Is there a place, other than the street, to leave it for the short time it’ll take me to get Auntie into her room?”
“There’s a pad in the back.” She pointed towards a door which Lank had not noticed before; it was almost hidden by the foliage of plants situated between it and the counter. “Do you want to look at it now, or just check it on your way out? Either way, I can show you your rooms; they’re on the second floor. Can your aunt climb stairs, or will you need a key to the elevator?”
“Oh, she’ll be all right on the stairs. She’s not infirm, just small, and a bit fragile.”
The rooms were lovely, as nice as the ones in the suite at Max’s house. They were worth the money Lank was paying for them, although he would have been perfectly satisfied with more modest digs. Well, Kati had told him to not worry too much about expenses; she, Llon and Ciela would be selling more of the small shards of lace crystal to whoever could come up with the price. There, apparently had been some buzz about them already; the Government was not the only party interested in getting some. And the Government wanted to buy more; only they had to get Great Council approval for funds for another batch.
*****
Out on the street again, the necessary errands performed, Lank thought that he would walk a bit in the downtown area, just to get his bearings. Not so much to locate himself in relation to the rest of the city; with a translation node in his neck, he had done that while flying over the area in the flit. What he was interested in was figuring out where the city streets were tainted with the decay and negativity which seemed to be a problem in Salamanka, which areas seemed to be unaffected, and what might account for the difference. Accordingly, he began to walk in the direction of the lake; island-born, his first instinct was to head for water. Even if it was not the salty water of Tarangay’s oceans, there was a port by the river delta, and he was used to ports. Perhaps there would be bars in the port, some of them even having musical entertainment. He found that he was humming a sea shanty as he walked, looking about him curiously.
The streets were fairly interesting. He eyed the storefronts, reading their signs, and peeking into their sometimes dusty windows, to see what was on display. The assortment of goods was much like that found in any city, on any planet that he had visited. There were food, clothing, and other necessities of life, such as household furnishings, dishes, and textiles. The details varied from place to place, but people needed such things, and they were always the bulk of a place’s merchandise. He came across a couple of shops selling musical instruments, and lingered in front of each for a while; the second one he went as far as entering, through a wooden door too low for his height. A bell chimed when he opened the door, and a dry slip of an older man, with an incongruous, full, white afro, came into the shop from the back, grinning at him.
“Just looking,” Lank said to him, cheerfully. “We’ll be in town for a few days so I might come in and buy something later, if I see something that interests me.”
“You a musician?” the man asked, looking him over.
“A bit of one,” Lank conceded. “I have, on occasion, earned my living with my flute, although always playing with others, only right now I don’t have a group.”
“If you’re any good, there are always combos in the bars of the waterfront looking for new blood,” the man said. “I used to work them myself, until I grew a little long in the tooth, and inherited this shop from an unmarried uncle. It’s not a bad life, playing music in bars.”
“It’s a fine life,” Lank agreed readily enough.
He asked about the bars, and was told to continue in the direction that he was heading in, anyway. He thanked the shop’s proprietor, narrowly escaped whacking his head on the low door jamb as he left, and kept on walking toward the lake front.
He was passing a dark, dilapidated-looking building, and could, with his node-enhanced vision, make out the first of the pub signs on the last cross street before the waterfront, when disaster struck. He found himself abruptly surrounded by four threatening men, and forced against the brick wall of the edifice.
“So kid, you must be one of the chattels, no?” asked the nearest man, breathing at Lank’s neck.
He was shorter than Lank, so the effect probably was not quite what he was after, although Lank found it threatening enough.
“Chattels?”
Lank stared at him. He did not have to feign puzzlement.
“One of Gorsh’s off-world acquisitions.” The man sounded out the last word, making it sound like part insult, part derisive comment on something that escaped Lank.
“Oh. You mean one of the people he has been snatching to sell as slaves.” Lank drew a breath. “No, I’m not one of them. I came to Wayward of my own volition, as a part of a Free Trader crew.”
“Oh, you came to Wayward as part of a Free Trader crew. You’re joking, right, kid? Free Traders hardly ever come to Wayward, and when they do, they don’t come to Salamanka.”
Lank was at a loss. He could not figure out what was going on. Clearly he was being threatened but with what, or why, was beyond him. And the four musclemen surrounding him did not appear likely to enlighten him, even if he could figure out what was the right question to ask.
He managed to unobtrusively slide his hand into the pocket where his stunner was. Could he manage to stun all four of his opponents before they could take him out? What kind of weapons were they carrying?
What would Kati do?
Well he knew the answer to that question, but it was not likely to help him. As a male of the species, he did not have the option of laying on the feminine charm by the shovelful, and then use the advantage so gained to either scoot off, or to turn things over to the Granda, and whatever weapon was handy.
*****
“So how come Boss sent us to buy fish, anyway?” Tere grumbled.
He was the one pulling the cart, empty at the moment, except for the insulated bags that were to hold the purchases.
“And three of us at that? It doesn’t take three people to purchase a cart-load of towfish. Sarmy, the kitchen boy, usually does it by himself.”
“He’s displaying his power over Shyla and me, by sending us with you,” Jaqui said, her nose wrinkling as if she was smelling something bad. “Kind of like saying, doesn’t matter to him where we are, we can’t hide from him. Which goes for you, too, Tere. You’re as visible to him as we are, just as well marked.”
Shyla was not saying anything. Jaqui knew that Gorsh’s intimidation tactics were working. She was going to be a blubbering mess by tomorrow morning when she was supposed to board the flyer going to Strone, the capital city where Koruse was, presumably attending to his duties as a C
ouncillor. Since he was one of the Old Families’ hereditary Councillors, most people had doubts about how diligent he was about those duties. Only a handful of the Old Families were deemed to be dutiful, and none of them would take bribes from Judd Gorsh.
Jaqui sighed. She did not know what she could do to help Shyla. She herself had endured a night of energetic sexual mauling by Gorsh after she and Shyla had been fetched from the cellars. She was unable to think of it as anything other than mauling, although something, perhaps a few days’ absence, or just her newly brown hair, seemed to have had the effect of making the Slaver unusually keen on her. He had kept her in his bed in his apartment, all night, even cuddling up to her while she fretted about Shyla with whom she had been expecting to share a dorm room.
Was there some way that she could make use of his unexpected enthusiasm for her?
“Hey, what’re Garrot and his goons up to, over on the other side of the street?” Tere suddenly asked, nodding across the road. “Looks like they’re harassing someone—maybe an off-worlder, by the looks of it.”
“Oh, that shit,” Jaqui spat. “A small-time crook and trouble-maker, always trying to ingratiate himself to Gorsh. He comes around to the office, every second day, at least, offering to do jobs, favours, whatever. Now he probably thinks that he’ll get thanks, or even a reward for returning some poor chattel, not understanding that Gorsh knows where we are, all the time.”
“Not surprising that he doesn’t understand it, since we didn’t even know about it until we tried to escape,” said Shyla in a voice that was not much more than a shaky whisper.
It was the tone of her voice that decided Jaqui. She didn’t know what idiocy Garrot and his “boys” were up to, but she was fed up with people being frightened, and intimidated.
“I’m going over there to ask Garrot what he thinks that he’s doing. One of us is bound to recognize the guy they’ve got, if he’s one of Gorsh’s. If so, we’ll take him with us, after making Garrot and company scram.”
If Tere and Shyla were about to protest, they had no opportunity. Jaqui had grasped hold of the cart’s handle and began to pull it along behind her, across the empty street, and Tere had to follow if he intended to remain in charge of the cart. He grabbed Shyla’s hand and pulled her along, behind Jaqui.
“And what the hell do you think you’re doing, Garrot?” Jaqui asked, when she was close enough to take stock of the situation. “Found a lonely walker to bully, did you? Four on one—that’s not exactly fair odds!”
“Mind your own business, Jaqui the Whore!” Garrot snapped. “What are you doing here, so near the port, anyway? Maybe we’ll take you, too, all three of you, back to Gorsh’s office with this one. Should be good for a tip, at least.”
“Hah!” The word “whore” had stung, but Jaqui had heard it used about herself before, and she was not about to let crap like that get to her. “The three of us are on legitimate business. We’re going to buy towfish for the kitchens. And the guy you’ve got there; Gorsh isn’t going to want him; he’s not one of ours. Right Tere? Right Shyla? Neither of you recognize him?”
Her companions shook their heads.
Lank was staring at the three newcomers, especially the feisty girl who seemed to have taken charge. Could they, would they help him with the attackers?
“What do you mean Gorsh isn’t going to want him if he’s not already one of his?” asked Garrot, glaring at Jaqui. “He sells flesh, off-worlder flesh, doesn’t he? That’s what this goof is; claims to belong to a Free Trader crew. That would be a load of shit, of course.”
“Gorsh might want another body when it’s time for the slave auction. But it’s almost a year off, right now. Do you think that he wants another mouth to feed; why do you think he’s lending chattels, like Shyla here, to citizens?”
For a moment or two it looked like Garrot might listen to her. Lank knew exactly when he decided that he would not. The man’s hand came down on his shoulder, hard.
Fortunately the stunner was in his other hand. He pulled it out immediately, and aimed at the man’s midriff, pressing the trigger. Meanwhile Tere grabbed one of the big bags off the cart, opened it, and tossed it over another goon’s head and shoulders, expertly, as if it was something he was in the habit of doing every day. Jaqui had tackled the “boy” nearest to her, kneeing him in the groin, leaving Shyla to recover enough of her senses to slam the cart into the last attacker.
“Hey!” shouted Jaqui delightedly at Lank. “You’ve got a stunner! Can you use it on the three other dorks we’ve got here? If not, let me borrow it, and I’ll do it!”
“’S okay, I can do it,” Lank responded. “It’s my other shoulder that he jarred.”
Three quick shots from his stunner and there were three more figures falling onto the ground, one of them encased in a bag down to his waist. Lank drew a deep breath, dropped the little weapon back into his pocket, glad that he had decided to not go anywhere in Salamanka without it, and rubbed at the shoulder that Garrot had manhandled.
“Thank you brave ladies and gentleman,” he addressed himself to the trio. “I’m not quite sure from what, exactly, you have saved me, but whatever it was, I don’t think it would have been pleasant.”
“No, it wouldn’t have been,” agreed Jaqui. “At the least you would have been beaten senseless. And that idiot, Garrot, would have no doubt tried to peddle you to Gorsh, who probably would have told him to dump you in some alley filled with fish guts, to wake up or not, as luck would have it. Gorsh has all the human bodies that he can handle, right now; he’s not looking for more.”
“Are we talking about Gorsh, the slave-snatcher?” Lank asked.
“Who else?” Jaqui’s tone was derisive. “You really have come from off-world recently, maybe with Free Traders, haven’t you? What in the world would have brought you to Salamanka?”
Tere was retrieving the bag from the goon’s body, and Lank had leaned down to help him while the girls watched, Shyla hanging on to the cart.
“Business,” Lank answered with a short, humourless laugh.
He straightened up, he and Tere having finished the bag retrieval, and looked at the girls, one after the other.
“You’re Jaqui and Shyla, right? Or did I mishear the names?”
“I’m Jaqui and she’s Shyla.”
Jaqui was staring at him, looking suspicious now. Lank drew another breath.
“My name is Lank,” he introduced himself. “I came to Wayward with, among others, two friends named Kati, and Llon.”
“The names Murra gave us,” Shyla whispered. “We were supposed to try to find Kati, Llon and Lank, after we had met up with the Wise Woman or a Shaman.”
“That’s right.” Jaqui continued staring at him. “Are you here to help us? Help Shyla avoid that creep-face Koruse, maybe?”
“My aunt, Chrysalia, is with the Wise Woman Seleni right now. They are creating another jini which was supposed to try to locate you for us. We need to figure out a place where Aunt Chrysalia can meet with Shyla safely. She may be able to remove the marker from Shyla’s shoulder; once that’s done, maybe we can hide her.”
They had begun to walk down the street towards the waterfront, leaving the four small-time criminals to fare as they would between the street and the dark building. Lank’s companions seemed to be knowledgeable enough to realize that stunned persons would wake on their own in a couple of hours, thirsty, and with nasty headaches.
“Oh man, I sure hope that it’s possible!”
Hope at last, Jaqui thought. In the form of a tall, gangly off-worlder, who seemed pretty good at handling himself, even in a tight spot on a street in Salamanka!
*****
“Are you telling us that you ran into Jaqui and Shyla on a street, near the port?”
Seleni was almost incredulous. These off-worlders were plenty strange, it seemed, but strange in a good way. She admitted to herself that she had not seen much of that sort of a thing lately; strange had seemed to mean weird in a frighte
ning way. Had something changed on some primal level? Had the Planetary Spirits decided to help those of the Waywardians who wanted their world to become a better place?
The jini had wrapped itself around Lank’s shoulders, and was making an almost-sound; as if it was purring.
“They and their friend Tere saved me from being beat up, and maybe worse,” Lank said, launching into a quick account of his encounter with Garrot and his goons, and how the threesome had seen what was going on, and had come to his aid.
“That Jaqui has a lot of spirit,” he added at the end. “She’s the one who seemed to be the bravest of them. Shyla is really frightened of what she expects to happen to her, and Tere tries to remain in the background as much as is possible. Not to say that he can’t think on his feet; he did just that when he used one of the empty fish sacks to immobilize one of the goons.”
He was aware of a nice warmth spreading into his sore shoulder from the jini. Was it healing his hurt?
“You’re right about Jaqui; she’s a survivor and a fighter,” Seleni said. “I saw that when the girls came here. Shyla is more easily cowed. Tere I don’t know at all; your assessment is all we’ve got, so it’ll have to do.
“But did you tell them anything about what we hope to do?”
“I explained that we might—might—be able to remove the marker in Shyla’s shoulder. I told them that Shyla would have to meet my “Aunt Chrysalia” somewhere which would be safe for both her and my aunt. Jaqui suggested this empty lot which is not far from the Citadel. It’s Gorsh’s property, but overgrown with bushes and weeds, and has a lot of hiding places. I don’t think that I’d have any trouble finding it from her description, and the map in my mind. She said that she’d bring Shyla there tonight, once darkness fell, and if she couldn’t make it, then Tere would accompany Shyla.”
Showdown on the Planet of the Slavers Page 37