“Where are we?” Gareth asked, still a little fuzzy from his nap. They had apparently let him sleep a while. The sun was down.
“In orbit, aboard a ferry,” Xiomber replied.
“Oh,” Gareth said.
And then his brain woke up with a strangled cry.
In orbit? But there were no rockets firing to wake the dead. No high-thrust run at five G’s to clear the atmosphere, on the way to an orbital rendezvous with Sky Patrol Headquarters or The Arsenal.
He leaned as far forward as his seatbelt would allow and stared out the window.
Sure enough, deep space stared back.
“How?” he turned to Morty, eyes as big as grapefruits.
“The taxi took us to the ferry terminal,” the Yuudixtl scientist explained. “From there, a commercial wormhole bounce to orbit. In a few minutes, we’ll debark at the terminal and walk aboard a tube ferry and hop over to Hurquar.”
“That’s a planet?”
“That’s a planet, Gareth,” Morty reassured him. “Primarily Yuudixtl, with a bunch of Vanir and Elohynn, so we’ll just kind of vanish into the crowd.”
“Then what?”
“Then we talk about upgrading you to take on Maximus and save the galaxy,” Xiomber said firmly.
Gareth turned to look at the other brother. He wasn’t sure what upgrade entailed, but if that was the only way to stop Marc Sarzynski, then so be it.
Some sacrifices were always worth making.
The taxi rotated and Gareth found himself staring at the side of a gorgeous space station. It was a long torus design, a tall donut with a hole in the middle, slowly rotating as he watched.
Gareth finally realized he was in zero-g, floating but for the seatbelt holding him in place. The taxi puffed suddenly and began to ease into line with hundreds of other, similar vehicles, headed into a port in the side of the station.
Inside, the taxi reversed course suddenly and flew along the mildly-inclined deck until it found a little dock and slipped in, like an egg in a carton. Heavy, metal hands grasped the sides and a small airlock door extended.
The hatch gull-winged up and Gareth followed the two brothers into a hallway long enough that he could see the curve of the station at the upward horizon, feeling like no cowboy he had ever seen.
But he looked good.
Women’s heads turned as he walked through the thin crowds, all headed towards a stairwell.
Gareth heard Xiomber whisper to Morty as they walked.
“When this is done, I got a couple of long cons we need to run, using our boy here,” the lizard chuckled.
Morty joined in with him. Gareth blushed. He would be in their debt, if they helped him bring Maximus to justice.
And they had talked about doing a little swindle, so that he could help pay them back for giving up everything. That wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?
Assuming they all managed to not be in jail when it was done.
Up a deck, Morty led them to a private booth, well off in a corner.
“Get in, sit down, shut up,” Morty ordered. “I’m going to go get us some food.”
“Everything good?” Xiomber asked.
“I thought getting him new clothes would make the guy less memorable,” Morty shot back. “Shows what I know about women.”
“I know how little you know about dames, buddy,” Xiomber cracked. “Grab us some dim sum. I’ll keep Gareth safe from bands of horny chicks.”
Morty sighed and closed the door.
“Now what?” Gareth asked again.
He had a feeling he would be saying that a lot.
“In about thirty or forty-five minutes, the ferry will drop into a wormhole and we’ll emerge on Hurquar,” Xiomber said. “Not sure who he talked to or where we’re going, but Morty’s got connections everywhere.”
“Why not take a personal wormhole?” Gareth asked. “Like you did me?”
“Because those are extremely illegal, highly dangerous, and incredibly expensive to operate,” Xiomber replied. “If you managed to accidentally cross-connect two of them, you might vaporize half a hemisphere. Cinnra was desperate enough to build one in order to get Maximus. Morty and I were desperate enough to get you. Plus, we blew that one up when we left. And everyone travels commercial. Established corridors and times. Safe and comfortable. Was your first trip comfortable?”
Gareth shut his mouth. Xiomber didn’t need to know about him screaming like a little girl lost in the forest.
“No,” Gareth admitted. “Not really.”
“Yeah, and multiply that by hundreds of inhabited worlds,” Xiomber replied. “So everyone’s inside a big, safe ferry with no outside windows unless they want to go to the observation deck.”
“Huh,” Gareth said. “But we’re still going to stop Maximus?”
“Pal, we’re going to try.”