“The Snark’s done worse,” said Risus, her long tail flicking. “She’s outrun pirates, dodged asteroids—”
“And without drive coolant we can’t go anywhere,” said Et’Eruca. It dimmed the engineering console with one upper limb while two others punched buttons to re-route power. “We’re stranded on this planet until we can replenish.” It stretched to its fullsome height of just over two metres, ten pairs of feet keeping it securely on the floor, and glared at Alis.
Alis, leaning in the doorway of the ship’s cramped bridge, calmly met Et’Eruca’s glare. “The next time pirates shoot us up and destroy our fire control systems, I’ll let the cargo burn.” She had made a split-second decision to cut the coolant hose and extinguish the flames. The attack had also knocked out the comms.
Et’Eruca turned to Risus. “I advised you against hiring her, Captain. Humans are as untrustworthy as they are belligerent. The Imperium taught us that.”
Risus held a hand up, halting Alis. “Alis was just a child when the war ended, and humans have short memories. She did save the cargo.” She grinned toothily.
The Chys resembled Earth’s felines in behaviour. It had taken Alis a while to learn that the Chys grin was similar to a human shrug.
“You said there might be something here we could use as a replacement?” Risus asked. Her translucent fur pulsed and shimmered.
Et’Eruca’s antennae twitched in annoyance. Like the insects they resembled, P’lar lacked facial muscles, making them difficult to read. “The swamps of Borogove produce gases that could be condensed into a substitute, if my sensors’ readings are accurate.”
“I hope so,” said Alis. “There’s little info on this place, or the system. Who named it, anyway?”
Risus grinned again. “As long as we can drop a few claim beacons out here, I don’t care what this place is called.”
Alis nodded. Weeks spent in close quarters bred familiarity. Risus said little about her life before commanding the Snark, but Alis knew that family was why she traded among the Free Alliance fringe worlds. The highly matriarchal Chys society was also very mercantile. Risus would never be free from her mother’s control or expectations until she could buy her independence. Alis supposed that was why Risus took her on – she had been able to buy a share in the venture, rather than be an employee. Unhappy to see her gamble her life savings, her parents would have been even unhappier if she spent more time in jail for protesting the ranching conglomerates’ treatment of livestock on Bellman’s World.
“Where is this gas, Et’Eruca?” asked Risus.
“You lot, always rushing,” said Et’Eruca. The P’lar took a long drag from a metal pipe that emitted wisps of faint green mist. It let out a long, contented sigh. “Must be the thin air you all breathe.”
Risus moved toward the hatch. “Not all of us have the luxury of living for centuries.”
Et’Eruca took another drag, then placed the pipe in a silvery metal box strapped to its chest. “There’s a source about two clicks from here.”
“Lead the way. We’ll suit up,” said Risus.
The Snark’s airlock hissed, then clanked open. A wall of humidity oozed into the chamber and plastered Alis’s clothing to her body while sweat beaded her forehead. Borogrove rode the inner edge of the habitable zone of its red dwarf sun. Its slow rotation allowed thick cloud cover formation that protected the surface from the worst radiation while trapping enough heat to create a hothouse.
Et’Eruca led the way down the gangplank onto a field of spongy red moss, inhaling loudly. “It is most satisfying to be able to breathe freely.”
“Maybe Borogove hasn’t been charted for a reason,” said Alis. She checked her respirator filtering the stagnant air. Green lights. All good.
Et’Eruca pointed with two hands to a spot beyond a rise to their left. “The concentration of gases should be over there,” it said, as though Alis hadn’t spoken. “We should be able to harvest them with the condenser.”
Tubular, dark yellow growths topped with white tufts crowded around the Snark and towered above them. A far cry from the open, grassy plains of home. Alis doubted the docile toves on her family’s ranch would enjoy grazing on the squishy moss, although the white fluffy creatures bounding in front of them seemed to enjoy it. She hefted the shiny, barrel-shaped condenser and stomped uphill after the others.
The Terran Imperium had dominated this sector of the galaxy for decades and placed the P’lar, who had resisted, under occupation. Her family never protested when Bellman’s World was ceded to the Free Alliance, nor did they resist when half of their land was given to demobilized Alliance soldiers for settlement. They just wanted to live in peace. Yet Et’Eruca thinks I’m just like the people who bombed its home world. Maybe I should take my chances on another ship once this is done, share be damned.
The barrel of a rifle greeted her when she crested the rise. The burly figure wearing a climate-controlled jumpsuit waved her forward. Risus and Et’Eruca stood at the bottom, bracketed by two more people. Alis’s legs twitched. She had been a champion runner, and Borogove’s lower gravity might give her an edge, but she doubted she could outrun a bullet. She handed over the condenser and strode down the hill, hands raised.
“Are there any more of you?” asked a woman at Risus’s elbow, her voice harsh and tinny through her mask’s speaker.
“Just us, collecting supplies,” said Risus. “We’ll be on our way if you let us.”
“Don’t think so,” said the man next to Alis in a deep, rumbling voice. “You’re coming with us.”
“What about my ship?” asked Risus. Her whiskers flattened against her cheeks.
The man gestured with his rifle.
Two others that looked like twins joined them. They shook their heads when the man looked at them. “No one else. Well, that part of your story checks out,” he said. “Keep moving. We’ve only got a week of daylight left.” He chuckled at his own joke.
The trek took them into steeper hills free of the stalks, but still blanketed with spongy moss. Alis sank up to her ankles as she plodded forward. The soupy air enveloped and constricted her, but she was grateful for her respirator. Risus marched in silence, staring at the ground, while Et’Eruca crawled as fast as its many legs could carry it. It seemed to have far less trouble negotiating the squishy turf. Their escorts wore overshoes with flared, wire-frame soles, allowing them to walk without sinking.
The hilly country gave way to a broad, empty plain that reminded Alis of home – if she didn’t need a respirator and wasn’t sweating to death. A long metal structure loomed ahead, resembling the pre-fab hangars and warehouses in the smaller communities on Bellman’s World, except that this one was shiny and dust-free. Their escorts nodded at a pair of guards standing by the door, and nudged them inside. She blinked in the harsh interior lighting and shivered at the sudden climate-controlled chill. Before she had her bearings, they were ushered through an anteroom and down one of several gleaming corridors. She counted a left turn and then two rights before they were deposited in a small, square room devoid of furnishings.
“I don’t suppose your sensors happened to detect this facility,” said Alis.
Et’Eruca twitched its antennae and stared coldly at her while it took a long draw from its pipe.
“Quiet,” said Risus, hunched over the door panel. “I cracked the lock’s code. They have outdated security systems.”
Alis blinked. “I didn’t know you could pick locks.”
“I’ve had a lot of jobs,” said Risus. Her mouth formed a taut line. “These people must have ships. Let’s find their hangar.”
Alis frowned. “What about the Snark? And our shares?”
“And the cargo?” added Et’Eruca.
“We took a lot of damage before landing,” said Risus, “and I’m sure those furless brutes looted the Snark.”
Alis frowned. “I’m right here, you know.”
Risus murmured an apology. Alis closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose to distract herself from her churning stomach. My share is gone. She’d had just enough Free Creds – all she’d saved while working at the family ranch – to buy into the Snark when she signed on. She’d had a vote, a percentage of the ship’s profits, and a chance at something more.
Judging by her calmness, it wasn’t the first time Risus had suffered such a loss, but she imagined Et’Eruca must be livid, the way it ground its mandibles. Alis spoke as little as possible with the P’lar, but knew the success of this venture meant a lot to Et’Eruca. Whether you have a stake means nothing if you’re stuck on this planet.
Alis slid the door open, peering up and down the corridor. “I’ll go first. They may not look twice at a fellow human.” No hangar doors were visible on the side they entered, which meant they were probably on the opposite side. As they moved down the corridor the glaring lights overhead cast everything into sharp relief, throwing their silhouettes onto the brushed aluminum walls. The rattling of the air circulation system muted their footsteps. The occasional murmur of conversation, carried through air ducts, and she cursed at not being able to pinpoint where their adversaries were likely to be before they stumbled upon them.
They entered a room to find a man sitting at the table, sipping a cup of steaming tea, judging by the smell. His breathing mask lay at his elbow. His eyes widened and his hand darted toward his belt.
Alis scanned for a weapon. In a pink and purple blur, Risus vaulted over the table and landed lightly on the ground. The guard twisted toward her as he drew his pistol. She raked her claws across his face. He screamed and clutched his shredded cheek as red rivulets seeped between his fingers.
So much for sneaking out.
Risus wrested the pistol from the guard just as he rose and shouldered into her. Alis darted around the table and swung wildly at the back of his head. Her fist connected with his neck. He grunted and staggered to his knees. Risus whacked the top of his head repeatedly with the pistol’s butt, until he collapsed to the floor.
Et’Eruca’s mandibles clacked. “I can feel the vibrations of several people running to our position.”
Alis nodded, thankful.
They ran down the corridor. Alis scanned the signs by the doors for anything to point them in the right direction. Interspersed between the storage rooms and barracks were processing labs and refineries. What kind of place is this? More voices ahead spurred her to open the next door and dart inside, closely followed by Et’Eruca and Risus.
They stood in a long, high-ceilinged room lined with large cages stacked three high. She gasped. In each cage a stout, four-legged creature with dirty white fur and long pointy ears sprawled. Tubes sprouted from their heads, and ran to boxes with flickering lights mounted in each cage’s ceiling. Even stranger, each one wore a waistcoat covered with dials and other gauges. Faint whirring and clicking sounds emanated from the set-up. Alis’s fingers twitched. How can I get them out?
“What now?” asked Et’Eruca.
Alis stared at the cages. “If we make it out of here, we report this to the Alliance authorities.”
“There may be a reward, too,” said Risus.
Et’Eruca turned away. “This is none of our business.”
Alis spun to face Et’Eruca, pointing to the cages. “How can you not care about what happens to another living thing?”
“I have the rest of my apprenticeship to think about,” said Et’Eruca, clasping both sets of arms behind its back. “My family are navigators. I can’t return home in disgrace.”
“Let’s discuss it later,” said Risus, who listened at the door. “I don’t think anyone’s there.”
Alis realized if they escaped, there might not be any left alive to save. “We should set them free.”
“Why?” asked Et’Eruca. “They’re almost dead. I’m very much alive and want to stay that way.”
Risus gently placed a hand on Alis’s shoulder. “We need to be practical.”
Alis slowly looked away and nodded. Her parents had said the same thing, just before their last argument about her activism.
They continued down the corridor and passed more processing labs. Alis wondered how many more creatures were behind those doors being drained. Regardless of what Et’Eruca thought, she must do something. There was no risk here of being arrested for threatening the interests of corporations that squeezed family-run operations; just a chance to finally do the right thing. She could work her way up again on another ship if things soured because of it.
A set of double doors beckoned at the end of the corridor. Alis sprinted the remaining distance and burst into the hangar. A handful of one-person, high-altitude flyers were parked along the far wall, and two larger ships – probably courier vessels or small freighters – occupied the area near the doors. A dozen cages like those in the processing labs lined the nearest wall, but their occupants were very much awake and highly agitated. They immediately began scrabbling and grunting upon seeing Alis and her companions.
Alis started toward the cages. I’ve got to free them from the hell that’s planned for them.
“Either one of the freighters will do,” said Risus.
“Not so fast, and drop the gun.” Et’Eruca aimed a small stunner at Alis and Risus. Alis’s momentary shock quickly dissolved into anger. She clenched her jaw. Their captors had never examined the P’lar’s respirator, which was large enough to conceal a small weapon. Risus placed the pistol on the ground.
“What’s your game?” asked Alis.
“There’s a much bigger prize than laying claim beacons,” said Et’Eruca, gesturing toward Risus.
“Why?” asked Risus.
“You always glossed over your past and never explained why you love working in the fringe systems, when we could be making so much more in the Core,” said Et’Eruca. “That made me curious about what other roles you’ve played.”
“‘Death is the final role,’ as we say at home,” said Risus.
“Some syndicates would agree…and disagree,” said Et’Eruca, “including the one that hired me.”
“You fucking bug,” Alis hissed, using the common insult.
Et’Eruca shrugged its four shoulders. “I’ve got only two years left on my apprenticeship, and with the Snark and her cargo gone, I’ve got nothing to show for it. I weighed my options. The bounty on Risus will buy my family’s forgiveness for failing.”
“I took you in when you were fired from your last post,” said Risus slowly. Her whiskers flattened against her cheeks.
A jump-suited man entered the hangar, carrying a large pistol. “A touching sentiment. Thank you, bug,” he said.
Et’Eruca stiffened. “The Chys is yours, as promised,” it said calmly. “The human is of no concern to me.”
The man’s icy blue eyes swept over Alis. She fought back a shudder. There’s a man who’ll shoot me as soon as look at me.
“I am happy to have been of service,” said Et’Eruca. “My account information is on a cred-stick. We can settle things and I can ride the next ship out of here.”
The man fired. Et’Eruca squealed and cradled its newly perforated arm. A second shot tore through a shoulder and a third through its chest as its stunner clattered to the floor. The P’lar slumped to the ground and lay still, a greenish substance oozing from its wounds, its mandibles twitching for a few seconds. “Consider things settled,” he said. He turned to Alis. “It’s nothing personal, you understand.” He levelled his pistol at Alis.
An icy cold ball settled in her chest. She fought for breath. “Wait! I’ve got useful info!”
“So does everyone, in your situation,” said the man.
“I’m serious. I know the black market on Bellman’s World. I’ve been looking for people – my own people – to make connections.”
“Why are you with this crew?” he asked.
“I’ve got a record,” said Alis. That wasn’t far from the truth. “I needed a way off-planet, no questions asked.” She looked away from Risus’s hurt expression. If this works, I’ll make it up to you.
“Put the Chys in a cage and come with me.” He directed Risus to an empty cage with his pistol. She shuffled inside and winced as the door clanged shut. She did not meet Alis’s gaze.
The man marched Alis back down the corridor. “We’ll have a talk to see if we can use you,” he said.
If we can use you. She didn’t like the sound of what would probably be an interrogation. She had bought herself time, but she would be drawn into their web or she’d slip up before long. Whatever Risus had done, and however indifferently she’d treated Alis, she didn’t deserve her likely fate. She asked, “What are you manufacturing here?”
“Those mome-rats are the highest form of life here. They’re stupid buggers, but they make useful pheromones for pharmaceuticals when they’re scared. And the Alliance can’t touch us in neutral territory.”
Alis gritted her teeth. At least the conglomerates fed their toves and let them out once a day. “What about the Chys?” she asked.
“That thing was our best distributor, until she had an expensive change of heart that lost us shipments and some of our boys.”
They approached the guard post in the anteroom. The guard she had attacked before was nowhere to be seen. “Could I have a tea? It’s been a while,” she said, pointing to the corner table holding the Nutrimat machine.
The man shrugged and punched a few buttons on the machine. A plastic cup plopped into a small hopper and black, steaming liquid smelling of bergamot and crisp dry leaves in autumn poured into it. When the machine gurgled to a finish, he handed her the cup. “Here you g—” His words devolved into an ear-splitting wail as hot liquid splattered his face.
Alis sprinted back to the hangar before the man had finished his first scream. She maintained a white-knuckled grip on the cup. A crappy weapon, but better than nothing. Death is the final role. Risus would just pick herself up again and move in a new direction. Alis could do no less. She’d been a rancher, an activist, and a cargo master, but she’d never been a fighter. Until now.
A uniformed woman stepped into the corridor, drawing her pistol. “She’s heading to the hangar,” she shouted into a badge clipped to her shoulder. She fired. Alis winced as a bullet grazed her arm. She plowed into the woman, and crashed to the floor. Her jaw exploded in heat from the pistol butt’s impact.
Alis punched her adversary on the side of the head. She fell sideways and Alis rolled away, snatching the pistol from the woman’s hand and running. She burst into the hangar. Risus was out of her cage and inspecting the freighters. The hangar doors were open. Humid air snaked around her and constricted her chest. Alis turned back to the doors and shot at the control panel. The bullet embedded itself in a crate. The third shot hit its target, creating a small rain of sparks. That would slow them down. Maybe.
“You’re back,” said Risus.
“Did you think I’d stay?”
“I knew you were buying time. I’d understand you wanting to be with your own people, but I’m glad these aren’t your people.”
“I had more in common with Et’Eruca.” Alis checked their back.
Risus opened the freighter hatch. “Where does that leave us?”
“I know where I belong,” said Alis. “I’ll stay on, if you’ll have me.”
Risus blinked. “I’m starting over. Again. In a new ship with no guarantee of profit. You might get fifty percent of nothing.”
“You’ve done this before and seem to be okay.”
“All right, then.” Risus grinned. “I need someone to help me run this thing if any money’s to be made.” She gave a low, throaty rumble of amusement.
Alis looked back at the cages. “One last thing before we blast out of here”
She let the mome-rats run free.
Settling into The Wunderland, Alis turned to Risus. Their new mission was to rescue the imprisoned, no matter where they were. To rise up the meek. But, they had time to kill before their next port of call. Alis smiled, put the ship on autopilot, and pulled out a deck of cards that she had found beside her seat. “Poker?”
A wide, toothy grin spread across Risus’s face and she purred in agreement.
Alis dealt out the cards. “Five-card draw, Queen of Hearts is wild.”