Another Word for Magic

by Mackey Chandler

  He took a couple of steps back and leaned in again, left hand on the edge of the open flight cabin. It wasn’t properly a cockpit as it was full width. He wanted one last shot on a different angle that showed the seats better. A hand gently fell on his right shoulder. The gentleness of it was remarkable because it was the size of a dinner plate and had four long claws extended but under such careful control that they were not piercing his shirt at all. The companion thumb was not visible but he could feel it laid across the back of his neck. If the Derf clutched it, the same as a Human clutched his fist, those claws were half the thickness of his shoulder and the thumb would extend over his spine.

  “This one is spoken for, but if you are interested in an aircar I have hangar space free at the moment to build one up. We’re probably looking at a two-year delivery time though.”

  That was delivered in a rumbling low voice in his left ear. Sam slowly turned his head and regarded the large face lowered to whisper in his ear. He didn’t have it in him to try to brazen out being a buyer. He wasn’t being treated like a potential customer and they both knew it. He brought the phone in his right hand back to his chest. It was a liability and he didn’t know what to do with it. He had a gun inside his waistband on the left, but putting the phone away as a normal gesture seemed beyond him at the moment. He could just drop it. Maybe the clatter of that would be distracting and once he had his pistol in hand it wouldn’t matter. He let his hand drift down that way thinking about it.

  “If you are reaching for anything, it better be a business card,” Alonso said.

  Sam’s hand paused.

  “Let’s see the phone,” Alonso said sticking his other middle arm hand around Sam from the left.

  “I can erase it if I was out of line taking pix,” Sam offered.

  Alonso just wiggled his fingers in an impatient ‘gimme’ gesture.

  Sam deposited the phone in his palm and watched the big hand close in a fist. There was a muffled >crunch< and when he opened it again a crumbled shape and a bunch of small pieces dropped on the floor.

  He felt around Sam’s waist and removed his pistol. He didn’t say anything about that and neither did Sam.

  “Now, let’s see you turn your pockets out slowly and carefully,” Alonso ordered.

  “Hey, I haven’t stolen anything,” Sam objected.

  Alonso didn’t feel like arguing. He hooked one claw in Sam’s left pocket and ripped it down. An assortment of bugging devices fell on the floor at his feet. The other pocket yielded a small knife and a coin purse. After a pat-down, a wallet joined everything else on the floor.

  “Well, well, well. I recognize what a few of those are,” Alonso said of the bugs. He turned Sam around, none too gently, and pushed him up against the aircar, punching a com code in his phone with one true hand. That was a problem with Derf. He had two massive hands with claws to hold Sam, one to hold his pistol and one to use his phone. It didn’t present much opportunity to try to wiggle free and run. It made Sam feel handicapped with only two.

  “Lee? Do you know this character?” Alonso asked showing Sam’s face up close on the phone. The fact he was held by the neck suggested he wasn’t a friend.

  “Yeah, he’s a spy for North America, but not a very good one. Derfhome isn’t exactly a hotbed of political intrigue and counter espionage to send your best. At least it wasn’t when they were stationed here. Things may be heating up now. He has a partner and offices over on the west hills. They’ve been trying to build up a local business while still sending pro forma reports back home. We call that double-dipping. We’ve run into them before.”

  “And he’s still walking around wasting air?” Alonso asked.

  “If you waste him, they may send somebody competent,” Lee warned. “There’s still his partner to deal with too. He may show up if this one goes missing.”

  “From what I’m seeing, that wouldn’t challenge me either,” Alonso said. “Perhaps it would be enough of a message to the partner for this one to disappear. I can find the sudden need for a test flight in one of my planes and push him out the cabin door about fifty kilometers offshore. Derf sea life is pretty nasty. Even Derf don’t like to wade in very deep.”

  Sam couldn’t run but he could shiver.

  “What exactly was he doing?” Lee asked.

  “He caught me in the loo and went nosing around the shop, taking pix of your new aircar. No Derf would do that without invitation. They’d wait in the office until somebody showed up. If he isn’t new, just down off the hab, he should know better. He was carrying bugs and is armed too, which doesn’t speak to his good intentions.”

  “He absolutely knows better,” Lee assured Alonso. “I wouldn’t kill him myself, but you do what you think is proper. It’s your shop he was burglarizing and my sense of justice is not entirely Derf yet. I still have strong Human influences.”

  “What would you do with him?” Alonso asked, genuinely curious.

  “I’d strip him naked, point him across town to the west, and let him walk back to his partner barefoot.”

  Alonso laughed. “That’s evil. I like it. I’m not sure he wouldn’t rather be shot.”

  Sam shook his head no vigorously.

  “Well, he’s picking the walk, poor devil. I’ll do that,” Alonso agreed. “Thanks for your help.”

  Lee nodded pleasantly and disconnected.

  “I hope you do know if I find you anywhere near here again, you’ll go for that swim,” he told Sam.

  Sam just nodded yes.

  Ten-centimeter claws remove clothing faster than you can take them off yourself. Humans were rather disgusting bare in Alonso’s opinion. No wonder they wore clothes since they lacked proper fur. Alonso walked Sam with one hand around his neck past the workbench and got a spray can which he started shaking. When he got him to the door, he pointed left and informed him that was west.

  “What’s that?” Sam asked when Alonso started spraying him.

  “Penetrating dye. I use it to check castings for cracks. It fluoresces bright green under UV or sunlight.”

  “There you go. Thank Miss Lee for your life and don’t let me see your face again.”

  Sam said nothing, getting while the getting was good. Alonso watched the glowing green figure until he was out of sight. Humans were soft and kindly in his estimation, but he doubted they would stop to help another in distress who looked like they were the victim of some strange contamination. The west hills were a long walk away.

  * * *

  Jeff and April were leaning on the high rail enjoying the view from their balcony.

  “I liked getting a better handle on Lee’s people,” Jeff said. “I got to see their personalities better than just working in their lab where I was more of an instructor. That was pretty much just talking shop and I didn’t see how they acted with Lee. We have so many friends and allies here now, each with their own people. I’m thinking we should get them all together with just a select few of the trusted Home people, and let them see the bigger picture. We can host it like a party. Looking at the Earth news coming in they won’t get any clear idea of what is happening there unless we reveal it. They should know and it may result in unexpected information or suggestions.”

  “That’s very social of you,” April said. “I’d welcome the diversion just for the fun of it. We don’t do enough fun things. Some of these people will have their own sources. They may be moved to reveal some detail we don’t know. Ask Lee, her father and her researchers, the Foys, and Strangelove will insist on being by you of course.” She looked at the open door behind them and wondered if keen Derf ears could hear them. “Who else?”

  “See if Lee might get Talker to come and the co-ambassador, the Bill fellow. I don’t feel like asking. I’m not sure it would be polite to ask the Third Mother of Red Tree and not the two ranked above her, but I can mention to Strangelove that he’s welcome to discuss the meeting with his superiors.”

  “You don’t think he would anyway?” April asked.


  “I’m not confident of that at all,” Jeff said. “He seems to compartment his jobs with higher walls than a Human would. He might classify the chit-chat as Lee’s business and feel no obligation to report to the Third Mother.

  April nodded. “Derf think like us so closely that it’s hard to remember they can be very different. It catches you by surprise then when it does happen. Do you think Gordon reports to his Mothers?”

  “After the way he went to go to town to seek his own fortune? No, I don’t think he’ll report anything unless he’s directly acting for them. He didn’t associate with the clan again to be back under their thumbs like a child. Lee let drop in conversation that he contributes what he pleases to the clan, not like workers sent to town who are contracted out by the Mothers and get an allowance. Lee insists he’s so secretive it drives her nuts.”

  “Wiggen has moved into the building and isn’t keeping it a secret. She’s listed on public com. Ask her and her husband. She knows the mentality of Earth politics from the inside. You might as well invite Mel Wainwright,” April decided. “He is thick with Wiggen and discreet enough to decide what he can tell his other clients. Also, Jan, Papa-san, and Chen if he is still here.”

  “And Chen and Papa-san’s wives,” Jeff said.

  “I just assumed that,” April said. “That’s too many to try to seat at a table. We can set up a buffet and a bar. I’m not comfortable having hotel servers but for that many, I hate to do self-serve. I don’t want to be watching to make sure nothing is messy or runs out.”

  “Ask Strangelove,” Jeff said. “I know he has people here in town. Just about anyone can tend a buffet and we might luck out and get somebody who can tend bar.”

  Chapter 15

  “Clarke, I have an independent assignment for you,” Strangelove said.

  The dark-coated Derf carefully laid his tools down beside the parts he’d just removed from his 20mm rifle, and gave his commander his full attention. He’d never had a solo job. It wasn’t appropriate to make a big deal of being trusted. He just intended to do his best so Strangelove wouldn’t regret it.

  “Jeff Singh, who I am guarding, and his partner April Lewis are hosting a little party in two days. We don’t want outsiders at this affair, so I want you to tend bar. Do you have any experience at serving fancy alcohol?”

  “I can draw a beer or pour straight to a glass. Mostly, we just pass a bottle around.”

  “Look in the Human web fraction to see the special implements used. Also, download several texts on the art and keep them all in your spex. You are authorized to spend whatever it takes to hire someone skilled in the art to demonstrate how to do the mixing this evening. Go to some establishments that mix fancy drinks, but if you can’t find somebody actively employed at this currently, call a temporary worker service and have them send out a bartender to instruct you. They can come here or provide a place of instruction. Buy equipment if you need to. I’m sure restaurant suppliers have what you need. Don’t try to hire any of the workers at the Old Hotel and don’t reveal who you will be serving to your instructor. It’s enough they know you are mixing for Humans, not which particular Humans.”

  “I understand. Any activity by Mr. Singh is a security matter,” Clarke said.

  “Exactly right. Set this card to your hand and use it,” Strangelove said, giving him a Red Tree card. That was a matter of trust well beyond working solo. He immediately peeled the touchpad cover and rubbed his finger pad on it firmly to make sure it registered him.

  * * *

  “What happened to you?” Bill King demanded when Sam hobbled in.

  “Shower first, then something to numb my feet,” Sam insisted without answering his question. He kept walking right past him.

  “And an antiseptic,” King said looking at the bloody footprints Sam left on the floor.

  Sam held up his hand to keep King from touching him but he needn’t have worried. He had no intention of touching him unless he fell. He had a weird yellowish-green sheen to him that might be something nasty. It took three thorough scrub-downs before the color was much lighter. Sam suspected he’d still glow somewhat if he went out in the sun. He explained what happened while his partner scrubbed down his back. He couldn’t really scrub his feet but he sat on the tub edge and felt carefully with his fingertips to make sure there weren’t any sharp pieces embedded. The water still ran pink when he rinsed them.

  King came back with their first aid kit.

  “We have a numbing disinfectant in a tube,” King said and showed him, “but I’m not sure this roll of bandages will do both feet. Are you sure you don’t need a clinic?”

  “I’ll put half the tube on each foot and then put on clean socks over it,” Sam said. ignoring the other question. “Double socks,” he decided after thinking about it, “the salve will ooze through. I’m going to be off my feet for a couple of days.”

  “More like a couple of weeks,” King warned him. “I can’t believe nobody stopped to help you. What’s wrong with people?”

  “The Derf would have no idea it wasn’t some bizarre Human custom. I saw three cars of Humans go past but they all just stared at me with their mouths hanging open. Would you tell the car to do an emergency stop to let a naked glowing green man get in your car?”

  “I’m not sure what I’d do,” King admitted. “On Earth, I’d call the police and say they needed to send a mental health intervention team. I’m not sure there is any corresponding service in a trade town. Certainly not for Humans when they have no idea what is normal or insane in Humans. I never appreciated before how much Derf are self-policing. They don’t even have a fire department, which makes people take every precaution that they don’t let a fire get started in the first place.”

  “On Earth, I’d have been arrested for indecency. Derf are perfectly legal in fur without so much as a belt or boots. I’d have been delighted to be arrested today.”

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” King asked after Sam had the socks on.

  “Play nurse and bring me things so I can prop my feet up and stay in a chair,” Sam requested. “It might not hurt to look up the industrial hazard sheet for crack detecting dye.”

  “What are we going to do about this?” King asked.

  Sam looked at him in alarm.

  “Not a blessed thing. The shop owner called Lee Anderson. Otherwise, I’d be dead and you’d never have had a clue what happened to me. He said directly to thank her for my life. I’m not going to do that literally, but neither will I risk approaching that building again. If we so much as look funny at that Derf, you can bet we will be regarded as stupidly ungrateful. She, that huge humorless father of hers, or her clan will finish the job for him. We’re trying to get ourselves established to be independent here. If we mess with any part of that crowd, life on Derfhome will be untenable for us.”

  “He has your gun and all your papers,” King said, still unhappy to let that go. “You should add monitoring aviation radio with keywords for him and Lee. There’s no risk to listen.”

  “He has a pocket full of bugs and spy bots and what money I had on me too. He’s welcome to them. I can replace them. I just lingered too long snooping around. I should have grabbed a few crude pix and made tracks. Nothing that big should move so quietly. I didn’t know he was behind me until he put his hand on my shoulder.”

  “Where was he anyway? Did he run out to get lunch or something?” King asked.

  “He told Lee he was in the loo.”

  “You mean the toilet?” King asked.

  “Yeah. It’s the weirdest thing. He speaks English like upper-class British, or what I think they sound like from period videos. It’s strange hearing it from a huge hairy monster.”

  * * *

  Clarke got a hundred dollars Ceres on his new card and read the local net ads with a critical eye. One fancy restaurant, in particular, made a point of advertising off-world liquor and exotic mixed drinks. That sounded like a worthy target and he called
for a car.

  The bartender briefly gave him a dubious look when he leaned on the bar. The stools didn’t lend themselves to Derf. They were too high and it might take four pushed together to hold his weight. However, when he came over, he was all professional politeness.

  “What is your pleasure, sir?”

  “I’m looking to hire your expertise,” Clarke admitted without any preliminaries.

  “I’m Iverson,” the fellow said. “I work three on three off. If you have an outside gig for me, I do that if it fits my schedule.”

  “I have to be the bartender for security reasons,” Clarke explained. “I’m a soldier and I’ve been ordered to learn how. I’m quite willing to pay for a short course. The house advertising led me to believe they must have competent people hired here.”

  Iverson thought about that a little.

  “I come on at twelve and we close up here at midnight. It’s a long day on your feet but after we close for the night they come in and clean the dining room and the kitchen finishes cleaning up. I can give you a little lesson after closing. I’d ask twenty dollars Ceres and of course, we have to pay the house for their ingredients.”

  Clarke had no experience handling money and was a generous soul. Also, the unaccustomed money in his purse was exciting and he wanted to spend some.

  “That seems cheap for your knowledge and extra time on your feet. Allow me to give you forty. The Mothers are paying, not me, and they can well afford it.”