A Planet For Emily
Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

Chris was given back his clothes, and entertainment tablet – which Max would carefully watch for any hacking attempts – and permitted to use the engineering level bathroom, with Igor in close attendance. Rods rejected Suzanne’s suggestion that Chris be put in the spare cabin. They had reputations as monsters to uphold. Monsters did not give spare cabins to prisoners.

“We should make him sleep in the air lock, just to prove a point,” he told her, “but it’s not all secure and he might damage something.”

With jacker Chris languishing in his cell and the usual layover at Finn’s Reef put to one side – the tiny colony there would forgive them once all was explained – they made straight for the Oid planet at top speed, Rods keeping a careful eye on the engineering displays and on his likely future schedule. When not conveying passengers, The Max kept an irregular round and so was not expected at any particular port at any particular time, but lengthy absences would be noticed, and he did not want to draw attention to what they had found. Suzanne had been sternly warned that if she did tell a soul about El Dorado she would be sharing Chris’s cell.

“Well, that makes a change from being threatened with a spacing,” she said, “is there something wrong with the airlock?”

“You’re now known to a lot of people and spacing you might upset them. If I put you in a cell they would understand.”

“Doesn’t make sense to me, but Chris’s cell is too small for two.”

“I’ll build another in the same space on B deck but, seriously Cruise, you can’t tell anyone. It would cause pandemonium. No one would talk about anything else, and the Zards would inevitably get wind of it. They might send a squadron which we wouldn’t have a ghost of a chance of resisting, and they could even know where to look. Then your sister becomes a Zard slave and you may never see her again.”

“Oh alright, I wasn’t going to tell anyone.” Later she deleted the long notes she had been writing to her mother and Richard, replacing them with the cryptic comment that they were making progress.

Chris was dreaming of available women again, on his third day in his tiny cell when he was woken by his cell door being unlocked. Igor slapped handcuffs on him, grabbed one of his upper arms and started to lead him. Chris now knew not to struggle against Igor’s grip, but he never knew when to shut up.

“I need a shower”.

No answer.

“Have we reached another planet?”

No answer.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To Rods.”

Chris was led through the main airlock down a transparent tube into another airlock and out into a wide passageway made of what to human eyes seemed to be grey stone with a life support duct running along one corner and bare electric lights every few meters. The tall, grim Rods took out a remote, pressed a button and the cuffs unlocked.

“Does this mean I can go?”

“Sure, if you want to go and talk to those guys?” said Rods as he took the handcuffs, pointing down the passage, to a group of creatures behind a waist high barrier. “They’d welcome you. There’s some obscure ritual thing they like to do with human bodies. They’d prefer a woman, but a guy is still worth something.”

The creatures were tall and gangly with grey fur and a face inset with big, square, pearly white teeth never covered by any lips, so to a human it looked as if they were always grinning inanely. They all wore black hats, like a nineteenth century stove pipe hat but somewhat shorter and slightly bent - all part of some deep, dark aspect of Oid culture. Chris had a vague recollection of the story The Cat in the Hat from his childhood. The Oids were grey versions of the cat.

“The colony ship is this way,” said Rods, pointing down the passage, in the opposite direction to the Oids. You can choose what direction you want to go in.”

“Your way sounds good.”

Watching through a monitor from the ship, Suzanne thought the Oids looked evil. She did not like the way they stared at the small group from the Max, and then at the Max itself when the group moved off, as if expecting a woman to emerge that they could kidnap. She had been in half a mind to disobey Rods and follow them to the Dawn Treader for first hand news of her sister, but after seeing the Oids she decided to stay well away from the airlock.

The Treader was a long walking distance down the passage, and Chris still could not shut up.

“Did you do a deal with the clan guys?”

Rods looked at him. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Hey, just asking. It might be useful information when it comes to getting in.”

Rods decided that, for the moment, more could be gained by being civil.

“Two mountains is the name of the clan. I won’t even try to pronounce it in Oid language, but that’s the English equivalent according to the translator. If they’d been able to get into the ship without damaging it and knew enough about the engines to get it moving the Treader would be long gone. I told the clan head’s representative that I can get in and may be able to fix the engines so they said go for it.”

“Aren’t they worried you’ll take off with it?”

“It’s locked in. We’ll have to do a deal. If any cargo is left aboard we can always give him that in exchange for taking it away – or give them the ship in exchange for the cargo.”

“The colonists won’t be happy.”

“Chris, you’re a jacker, remember, and your gang stole it in the first place, so why should you care what the colonists think? Here we are. Do your thing.”

Chris saw an airlock door, just like the one they had left and through an oval shaped porthole he could see the Dawn Treader - a two-deck ship as opposed to The Max’s three but a touch longer than The Max. He flicked on the jacking device which soon synced with the airlock security.

“Shall we go in?” said Chris.

Rods took the device from him. “What do I do to get voice command?”

“Difficult to tell by the screen. What’s it worth?”

“Igor, pressure,” said Rods without looking up.

Igor’s hands shot out and, before Chris could move, grabbed both his upper arms. The robot then started to pull Chris apart.

“Ahh! You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“If you think I’m hurting you now, wait until I tell Igor to really start pulling. He doesn’t have any of the behavioral blocks about hurting humans they used to build into robots, and he’s very powerful.”

“Go in front or behind,” said Igor.

“The instructions on the screen are unclear Chris. Shall we go over this now, or do you want to wait until you are in greater pain?”

“I need to see the screen.” Rods held it up for him to look at. “Tap on the third line, reads Vin3000. Then say something.”

Rods did as instructed, and the screen disappeared to be replaced with a single “good to go”.

“Voice command,” he said to the gate.

“Voice recognized. Identification?”

“Rods, with two others. Igor and Chris. Voice commands only from me.”

“You call me Dawn. Enter.”

The gate clicked. Rods found he could pull it open.

“Igor stop!”

“Ow!” said Chris, indignantly rubbing his arms. Rods grabbed him and pushed him into the gate. “Hey!”

“You first and yell for the colonist who should be on here somewhere. Igor, you’re the rear.”

“I like in front,” grumbled the robot.

“If it’s dangerous I make you go in front. That’s fair.”

Chris helloed for all he was worth as they walked the passageways. Rods pulled out his boarding pistol. The Dawn, an old ship like The Max, had a similar layout except that with only two decks, there was no lift. They found the connecting ladder and moved up to the crew accommodation.

“You should yell before you open the main hatch,” said Rods.

“Huh!” said Chris, turning to look at Rods, with the hatch already half open.

“Yell something.”

“Oh right.” Chris turned back to the hatch and opened it to be confronted by a person of about his own age with a wispy beard who plunged a kitchen knife into Chris’ chest.

“I got one,” he yelled.

Chris screamed and slumped to the deck.

Rods clamped one hand on the hatch and brought up the pistol.

“Stand away and leave the hatch where it is.”

“I got one of you,” hissed the man, raising his hands.

“Very good, but we’re the rescue party. I’ve got a relative of one of the colonists on my ship.”

The colonist’s mouth fell open and he looked down at Chris, now lying motionless in a pool of spreading blood.

“Oh!” he said.

“Whadda you mean you don’t know the name of the planet you went to?”

They had moved Chris’s body into the cramped wardroom of the Dawn, removed the knife and wrapped the body in a ground sheet found in the hold. The colonist, known as Logan, had spoken with Suzanne via the ship’s port link and had accepted that Rods was telling the truth.

“I’m telling you I don’t know. None of us knew. We weren’t told the co-ordinates and we weren’t told the local name. We weren’t told the last two ports we went to and I don’t even know when we stopped. I don’t think it’s in the ship’s log or backup.”

“It isn’t. The jacker script messed things up but if the location was ever entered it was later removed. Not even the navigation log shows where the ship came from. What a mess. Coming back to here after the fight at El Dorado, how many nights?”

“Two, I think, but I just can’t be sure. I was out for most of it and then they drugged me.”

Rods sighed. “Let’s move on. You still seem to have a lot of the equipment on board?”

“One pod was unloaded. Some food, some survival stuff, and there was already a building.”

“A building? I thought the place was deserted.”

“Oh, it’s not deserted. There are animals and apparently intelligent life forms.”

“Intelligent? Human, what?”

Logan shrugged. “I was just going to unload one of the cargo pods and then check it all out myself. Then everything happened real fast. I’ve been here ever since. Only other bit I heard was that the building was deserted. They were talking on the comms about how they could just move into it. Whoever terra-formed the valley must have left it.”

“These intelligent other things weren’t living in it?”

“Seems not. There was talk of a big mound North of the building, towards the rift valley wall.”

“And you have no idea where this planet might be?”

“No, sorry.”

“Then we’re back to the poem.”

“Poem?”

Rods explained about the cryptic message. “You don’t know anything about Blake do you?”

Logan shook his head.

“Never heard of him before. I’m on the logistics side. Would really have liked to get out on the surface.”

“You may yet if we find it. In the mean time you’ve got to stay here.”

“Wait, what? Here? Can’t I come with you?”

“I can’t move the ship and I don’t want to leave it unoccupied for the same reason your jacker pals didn’t want to. The Oids check there’s someone on board every couple of days, right?”

“Yep, but I dunno what I could do to stop them if they decided to take the ship over.”

“That’s true but they’d have to damage it and now you have some control over The Dawn they’d find it difficult. The Oids also understand that humans tend to notice if another human goes missing, although they don’t really understand why. They’d be reluctant to do anything with you still on board. I’ll leave you in control. Look active, move cargo around. Go onto the wharf once a day and walk up and down for 10 minutes as if you’re expecting something to happen.”

“You mean actually go out?”

“Yep, but don’t move more than a few meters from the gate. If any of the locals approach then get back inside quick, and don’t open up. Tell ’em to go away through the translator. If they refuse then call the Clan contact I’ll give you and get him to shift them. You don’t tell them anything else. If an official-looking delegation turns up, check with the clan contact that they are official and then deal with them through the gate translator. Strict instructions not to let anyone on board, that sort of thing. If they press too hard, close off comms.”

“Got it – I think, but how long is all this going to take?”

“We’ll try and check back in a couple of weeks?”

“Another two weeks of this ship.” Logan spread his arms. “I’m getting real bored with this place.”

“We’re trying to unravel a situation here – deal with a mystery involving a sizable chunk of the galaxy, Logan. You’ll have to do your part.”

Logan sighed. “I guess so, but what about your friend here?” he said gesturing at the sheet wrapped form on the floor. “What am I going to do with this body for two weeks?”

“Everyman’s death diminishes me and all that, but Chris was no friend of mine and the deed is done. You can try cutting the body up and cycling him through the ship’s disposal system which, trust me, is a messy business. Or you can wrap him up a bit tighter, wait for rigor mortis to set in and stick him upright in your freezer. It should be large enough to take the body without becoming unduly crowded. Tie him or duct tape him to one of the shelves so that he doesn’t fall over unexpectedly. That can be scary, even when you know he’s there. Again, trust me on this.”

“Can’t you take him and tip him out an airlock at a convenient point.”

“That’ll be his eventual fate," said Rods, "but I’m not parading around the port with a dead body. As I said, the Oids don’t know much about humans but they do know the difference between a live and a dead one, and I told them I wouldn’t take anything off the ship. They’ll be watching.”

“Oh! And we can’t move the ship?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the engines as far as I can tell. The problem is the operating system. Rob and Hoss built a failsafe into it which has triggered and I can’t untrigger it until I find them.”

“I’m stuck here, then. Just me and Chris.”

“Chris is more congenial the way he is,” said Rods getting up to go, “not to mention more trustworthy. You two have fun now.”

“Now we know what happened,” said Suzanne when they were well on their way to the next port and she had chewed over the events with Rods, “we just don’t know where it happened.”

“That’s about the size of it.”

Like Rods, Suzanne had taken Chris’s death lightly. He had no immediate family to notify. More distant relatives would, eventually, be informed of his death in a mining colony.

“We can still search planet by planet,” she said.

“That’s going to take months, even if now we know what to look for.”

“Or we can try and work out my darling sister’s puzzle.”

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