By the Time I Get to Pellax Page 10
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'Those bastard Jyconan idiots,' said Kalat Hertig as soon as they'd got back onto the Fish Eagle. Spurgo sank into his command chair with a yawn. 'It's all a game, and we learned something out of it, by Gar,' he said with a grin. 'We'll have more of a low down on them next time.' 'Those kids let us down though, the assholes. They ruined it, man. We could have had the whole boatload of those suckers cold, I know we could. Imagine having the run of a city in the sky!' Mitzi was sitting placidly on a stool next to the captain's chair. The silky android had practically been purring ever since the return of her owner and his warriors. The Fish Eagle had been standing by cloaked until everyone was ready to come aboard. As soon as the tally of men, minus the dead, was complete they set a course away from the Tortuga's milk run, which they knew to an inch. 'You've got to wonder how friendly that Captain Cutter is going to stay,' said Hertig. 'Don't you think we had better recloak now we're all aboard?' 'Cloaking takes too much power and we'll do better putting distance between us and the crinkly cruiser,' said Spurgo. 'We'll get back to Kellagad and regroup. Besides, we can't cloak because I am waiting for someone to come on in.' He nodded towards an ancient transporter bay that was turned on and humming. It was not until they were about to go into orbit around Jycona, prior to debarking for Kellagad, that the transporter bay began to rattle, and then its gong chimed. Two shapes appeared in a space where one was usually considered plenty. Due to the dated electronics on the Fish Eagle the cloaking device and the transporter were sometimes touch and go. Few trusted it, but someone was coming through all right, two people stepped out. One was Drax, grinning with the confidence born out of blessed ignorance. With him was Rosalind. The girl looked about her. When she saw the ugly bunch of misfits who formed the crew of the Fish Eagle, she was ready to jump back into the transporter. Spurgo and Drax shook hands. 'Well, I didn't get my man, and you are still without your starliner,' said Drax. Spurgo shrugged. 'The sky is full of stars and also of prizes, by Gar. As for me, I prefer to think about the next thing I am going to get my hands on rather than what I have missed.' Mitzi meanwhile approached Drax's woman Rosalind. 'Welcome aboard,' she said, offering her hand. Rosalind took it immediately. It was hard to tell either from any lack of softness or smoothness or peculiarity of temperature that it was anything but human. Though Mitzi was a living doll, that did not affect the way Rosalind felt about her in the slightest. They were friends and that was that. 'We've got a girl's room if you would like to freshen up,' said Mitzi. 'Are there more in there like her?' whispered Rosalind, looking over at a woman on the nearest console. She must have weighed two hundred pounds and had genuine blue-black stubble on her chin. 'It's an executive-style rest room and the crew aren't allowed in,' added Mitzi. Rosalind took her arm and they went in to powder up and discuss the whole world and their men. It was a great opportunity for Mitzi. Rosalind was a type of woman she had previously only seen in the Royal Guard and on the streets of Kellagad, a button and bow type, unlike the amazons in the crew of the Fish Eagle. This was what the men called a good-lookin' chick, and Mitzi's software would allow her to pick up many tips and mannerisms from her. (Though some of the fighting women on board were good-looking, they were for the most-part deep-voiced, aggressive and unapproachable.) Soon everyone was back in Kellagad and celebrating at the Royal Guard. The festivities would have made any outsider conclude that the latest trip of the Fish Eagle had been a roaring success. Though the raid on the Tortuga had proved a disaster financially, they had at least seen action, swords and cudgels had been bloodied. A few colleagues had been lost of course, but it was in honourable circumstances, and, in effect, a laugh had been had. Drax had been kitted out by Spurgo in some finery that made him look like one of his crew instead of a Holdream Suite engineer. 'You look great, Romeo,' said Rosalind, 'but your spirit doesn't rise to the height of your attire, what?' 'She can speak flashy when she likes, by Gar,' said Spurgo, perched in the throne-like chair that everyone seemed to agree was his in the Royal Guard. 'Well, she's right. I do feel a bit down. I've got a call to make that I don't particularly relish,' said Drax. 'Let's leave it at that for now.' Spurgo shrugged. The night was going well, the wine was fine. Ever since he had cleared Gugat out of the place, the Royal Guard had become one of his favourite perches. 'Poor Drax can't live up to his own ideals,' Rosalind said softly to Mitzi. 'He plays the hard case, but you feel he doesn't really know who he is. Unlike your man,' she added, looking at Spurgo. 'He seems as if he's got nothing to prove whatsoever.'
* * * * * *
Later, Drax went to the first floor of the tavern where there was a room devoted to telephones. Once on visual the phones could of course give you any background you wished. You could make anyone think you were where you said you were. Every phone was equipped with ultra 3-D, too. Drax chose a neutral background of pastel shapes. He made a call to Pellax, the city of Caram in fact, where an official of the ruling dynasty, the Galerians, was waiting to hear from him. It was Henter Siquod, a minister of the King, and Drax did not know how to phrase his message for the best. Siquod would easily see where Drax had come up short, there were no two ways about it. The thick-necked minister, decked in a feather cloak, had been afraid that the news might not be of the best. A few minutes into the conversation, Siquod cut in on Drax's explanations. 'So you ended up pushing the upstart into a holographic world where he may or may not spend an hour or two amusing himself, is that what you're telling me?' 'I adjusted the software and scrambled the controls, so it's highly unlikely he will ever get out. Also, the safety parameters in there are now non-existent. A sharp blade's a blade and a slug of lead is what it is. He can't last.' Siquod was not impressed. He glared at someone who must have been standing beside the message booth, and shook his head. 'You will wait there, Mr Deerfield, where are you, in Kellagad on Jycona? You'll wait for Prince Barratat and introduce him to this Erl Spurgo of yours. Assuming, despite your holographic trap, this Venner upstart is still a problem, the arrangement with Spurgo will remain the same, and he will be expected to liaise with Prince Barratat. Are you capable of relaying that message?' 'Of course, sir, an honour,' said Drax, attempting to keep the dread out of his voice. Any sign of weakness could make his troubles even worse.
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Venner rushed out of the hardware shop and followed the boy to where they had left Helen chatting by the fire. 'She was getting some firewood,' said the boy, pointing to a stack of bundles tied with string and piled ready, 'and a snake dropped out and bit her.' 'What kind of snake?' 'A red viper.' He shuddered. People were gathering and Venner made his way though to see Helen lying on her back, smiling as if in the depths of a peaceful dream. At his approach she opened her eyes. She lifted her skirt and on her right ankle was a double puncture mark, red and puffed up. Latonia had arrived. The patient seemed to her a repulsive sight. The Boers were looking to Latonia, as it had got about that she was a 'wise woman'. 'How are we going to save her, Tonia?' said Venner. 'Shall I suck the poison out?' 'Who knows?' said Latonia vaguely. 'In the context of the game it might be better just to let her get over it.' 'Do you really believe that? Seems to me the poison is real, or real enough to kill Helen. In the context of the Holodream or not.' 'If she can't help, go and fetch the vrouw Jubilee,' said somebody. In the end, Julian and the old vrouw put together a poultice in the kitchen, including mealie flour, olive oil, and herbs gathered in the old woman's garden. With the help of that wrapped around her ankle and plenty of drinks of water the fever that had taken hold started to pass off. Julian, to the accompaniment of the virtuoso banjo player of the Boers, Horst Lindmaan, started singing 'Across the Universe'. 'That is so great to come round to,' said Helen. They had moved her to a bed made up on the stoop outside the old vrouw's house. 'Yeah, that's a great tune, and I believe it's another Beatles hit,' said Venner. 'If Julian says he got that one off me he's shitting us, because I haven't sung that song for at least five years.' Within a day or two Latonia had borrowed a rocking chair from one of the families and
attached the machine she had made to it. Her disruptor looked like some frame contraption designed to heat up a bed, except that it had more wires and a clock at the centre and not a light bulb. 'I don't like that buzz box this lady Latonia is putting together,' said Julian. 'She might not have the right medicine. I get better information from a snake out on the veldt.' 'Good for you,' said Venner with a grin, not making too much of it. 'Do you trust me, Baas?' said Julian. Venner looked at that creased-up lemon-coloured face. There was something in the man's eyes that he had liked right from the first day when he had been tending the wagon. 'I trust you.' 'Then give me five minutes, Baas. Or rather, give the snake a chance to lead you somewhere.' Venner followed the Hottentot out into the veldt. It was still early morning and the heat was about to start. Venner had on his flannels which kept the sun off him, and a broad leather sombrero. 'The snake has its home around here, Baas,' said Julian. They had halted within the shadow of a series of mountains. Julian squatted on his heels and Venner followed his example. They sat waiting without a word for some time. Venner had heard nothing but he saw Julian twitch his head, and then there was a rustling in a clump of grass and a yellow snake, about ten inches long, glided out. Julian bowed his head in reverence. 'Greet him, Bass,' he whispered, and Venner bowed his head too. The snake undulated away slowly, leading them towards the mountain, a great mass of rock that looked blue, until you got close and then it seemed more like black with glassy undertones. The snake was moving in circles close to the skirts of the mountain, then it disappeared into a crack. Julian got to his knees and peered about, feeling the ground with his fingertips. Then he crouched, and turning his head on the side he squinted at the solid rock. 'A crack is here, Baas, small, but just big enough. He wants us to follow him into the mountain.' 'Oh no,' said Venner. 'Baas,' said Julian, 'this may save your life. The snake whispered to me that you are a king. He is a king in his world too, though insignificant-looking. You are a king too, though you may seem weak and foolish to some.' 'But that crack in the ground could be full of snakes, and big ones at that. That could be a cobra's nest down there for all I know.' 'Sometimes you must simply believe, Baas. To take things on trust from a friend can put you ahead in the game, as you put it.' Julian began to scratch away at the sandy ground, and in a little while he had exposed a hole in the foot of the slate-like mountainside. Next thing, Venner was looking at the soles of the Hottentot's battered boots. The rest of him was inside the mountain. 'Come through here, Baas, it's wider than you think,' he said in a voice that seemed to emanate from inside a biscuit tin. Venner cast his eyes around to see if there was any other way for him to go, but there was just the blue African day with the sun reverberating in the sky, and the next thing he knew he was down and had his head and shoulders under the mountain. Before him was a crawl space very dimly illuminated and up ahead was Julian wriggling along like a mole. 'There is light ahead, Baas.' Thankfully the crawl space got wider. Venner would have dreaded having to back out of this crack in the world on his hands and knees. Shortly after Julian had disappeared round a corner in the blackness of the tunnel, there was a sound of talking up ahead. The floor was sandy and had small stones and large and Veneer saw sloughed off snake skins and what could have been petrified wolf turds. He heard an excited chattering and as he came round the corner there was a source of light and he saw Julian getting to his feet and climbing out and seeming to be greeted by people at the other end. As he got closer himself he was able to get up in a crouch and peer through a hole where a light was glowing and people were standing around. He reached forward and looked out. He was staring along a floor, from the perspective of a mouse in a mouse hole. The hole was more than big enough to get his head through. When he looked closer he saw it was an air duct. There was the grille lying on the floor close to the shuffling feet of a number of people, some of them in uniforms. 'It's Venner!' said someone.
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Two people reached in and gripped his shoulders and they pulled him up into one of the stylish corridors of the Tortuga. 'Venner, baby!' said someone. 'He's one of the Top Hats!' It took him a while to realise that he had been pulled out of the Holodream suite and into the actual ship and that the man before him was his drinking companion, Hollis Pierpoint. Sweaty, balding, and generously built, Pierpoint presented as pretty a figure as Venner had seen in his life. 'Where's Drax?' said Venner, gritting his jaw. 'That bastard?' said Pierpoint. 'He made his getaway onto Spurgo's ship. He transported himself just as we caught up with him. He left your friend Lonnie Pascoe in a coma in the foyer of the Holodream Suite.' 'God knows what he did in there with the software,' said Captain Cutter, 'but we've got you safe now and that's the main thing. That's one fewer we've lost off the ship.' 'He wrecked the Holodream Suite, did he?' asked Venner. 'He's short-circuited a lot of it so it's potentially a death trap. We've had the tech guys tinkering at it,' said the Captain. 'Seems as if one option is to reboot the whole thing with fingers crossed.' 'Hold on, Captain,' said Venner. 'If you reboot while there are people in there, what will happen to them?' 'That's what's making us hesitate,' said Cutter. 'It's true they could possibly be lost.' 'Well, I've got to go back because Helen Macready and Latonia Fletcher are still in there.' 'We can't let you go back in,' said Cutter, clutching his shoulder. 'Do you know who you are?' said Second Officer Billy Flax, who had been standing there trying to take in concepts he had never before dreamed of in his philosophy. 'Of course I know,' said Venner. 'I'm John the Baptist.' 'I'll go in,' said Hollis Pierpoint, getting on his knees to peer into the vent. But everyone present could see it was impossible for a man of his size to get into the air duct. 'Baas,' whispered Julian, 'can we get back into the hole with the yellow snake? I would rather be in there than deal with these wizards.' 'Who is this guy?' said Pierpoint, eyeing Julian up and down. Venner knew there was no way anybody could know all of the Tortuga's passengers. 'He was passing by and he very kindly helped me out of the vent,' said Venner. 'I've got to go back and bring Helen and Latonia out.' 'Oh no no, we'll get them via the normal gateway, we've got the tech boys on it. If you say they're in there, they're in there,' said Flax, who was more au fait with the Holodream Suite than the Captain. 'All right then,' said Venner putting an arm around Julian's shoulder, 'we'll be going for a little drink after all this.' An ensign was putting the grille back on, positioning the clips that held it. Crouching like a toad, Pierpoint squinted into the darkness just before the grille was secured. 'No one needs to go back in there, we can handle everything from this side. The Holodream's software board has all the answers, we've got guys on it,' repeated Flax. You probably underestimate the confusion Drax may have caused when he had his hands on the keyboard, thought Venner to himself. They all went their separate ways. Venner had Julian by the arm and took him into a bar where they had glasses of lager. Then they returned to the grille. Julian crouched down and looked through the slats. He made a hissing noise, peering intently into the dark. 'The snake, Baas, I am calling the yellow snake.'
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Kalat Hertig knew Kellagad all right. He had enjoyed its famous pleasure spots since well before the days of cherry-skinned Gugat in the Royal Guard. He had also found himself a secret bolt hole in Gart, a settlement hardly worth calling a town, not far away. He had kept the place going, and now it seemed to him like the ideal spot for a love nest. He knew that Mirtzi the living doll had a flirting side to her, programmed in. Of course, an android like that could be set up to do or be anything its owner required. Anything! If only he could get that silky living doll back to his pad in Gart for a long weekend! Spurgo seemed to have only a financial interest in Mitzi. The android's specifications made 'her' unique amongst the brigands who made their base in Kellagad, and Spurgo often pointed the fact out to his companions and rivals. Mitzi was also a great asset to have on the Fish Eagle because her abilities outstripped those of the ship's computer. Still, Hertig had the idea that no one would be allowed to take liberties with the silky mannikin. Spurgo had once or twice pulled the brigands
in his ship up short on their attitude to Mitzi. She was to be given respect. The thing was, the makers of the living doll had contrived to imbue her with charms and intelligence far surpassing those of the horror stories in panties that passed for women in the crew of the Fish Eagle, and even, for that matter, the soiled doves who lurked in the Royal Guard. The software had succeeded in making Mitzi inscrutable and fascinating. For Kalat Hertig, in particular. She had really grown on him. He was determined to have her, at least for a full afternoon in Gart. If he could get away with it under the nose of his captain and return her with no harm done, all would be well. When Spurgo left the suite he was occupying at the Royal Guard that lunchtime, Hertig put his plan into operation. He knocked at the door and Mitzi answered. 'Where is Erl?' 'He has gone to exercise and play rocket ball with some men from the crew.' 'Right. Can I come in?' 'For what purpose?' 'To wait.' Mitzi accepted this as a valid reason, and she stood aside. He entered and perched on the sofa, feeding his eyes on those womanly curves. 'Would you like a drink while you wait?' 'Ale would be fine.' 'Avrolarian?' 'Yes, that's fine.' As she poured the sparkling stuff from the decanter he stared greedily, wondering even now if he could see some mechanical flaw, something other than the elegant daintiness that had been so cunningly programmed into her. I've written some programs of my own for you, baby, he thought to himself. She sat and watched him, apparently at peace with all men and finding nothing suspicious in this visit. What we couldn't get up to back in the old digs at Gart, he thought. The great thing was that he had a friend called Kyle in that ghost town who was an ace at programming. When Hertig had revealed to Kyle what he was planning, Kyle was aghast. 'I'd advise against it, man. Those things are strictly for the nobility and millionaires. Some of them are honey traps, do you realize that?' 'Ah, that's an old wives' tale. Chicks put that sort of thing around because these androids can put them out on the street if they're not careful, see. They can do everything a humanoid floozie will do, and more.' 'Yeah, they do say that if you get one of these high class models there's no reason why you should ever want to get into the clutches of a real woman ever again,' admitted Kyle. 'I can believe it when I look at this Mitzi,' he had replied with a dirty laugh. 'She looks at a guy so levelly, with such poise, like. She's inscrutable, see. That's the fascination.' He laughed to himself: it was a fine thing to pledge yourself to a chunk of hardware. Recollecting his thoughts there in Spurgo's suite. he stood up with his glass of ale and went out to look out the window. Mitzi watched. There was a pleasant half-grin on her face, and all was well with the world. Kyle had told him that with this model there was a switch behind the right ear, under the hair, where you could turn off all programming. If he could get close enough and have her collapse, he could get her away to Gart in less than forty minutes. He had timed it. So he went towards her. She cocked her head enquiringly. 'Would you like a different drink?' she said, noting that his glass was still almost full. 'Or a sandwich?' 'I would rather have you,' said Hertig. He knew of course that everything he said and every move he made would be recorded and could be relayed back to Spurgo. But once he got her into Kyle's hands his friend would clean her memory banks of anything incriminating. 'Thank you for the compliment, Kal,' she said, putting her head down modestly. No blushes though, thought Hertig. He got closer. If he could reach around to the back of her skull, he could incapacitate her. 'Your hair looks so neat. It's arranged wonderfully well.' The compliment fell dead. 'I am able to adjust it to all the styles.' 'May I see?' he said, moving closer. Mitzi moved back and lifted the palm of her hand. 'That would be inappropriate.' 'Doesn't Erl fluff your hair up sometimes?' 'Erl is my owner,' she said, dodging the question. 'I am a friend to both of you.' 'It is not appropriate. Erl would not be pleased. You must get permission from Erl.' 'He wouldn't want to be bothered.' 'Do not make me scream for help,' said Mitzi. That would be serious. A couple of cutthroats from the Fish Eagle had their pads nearby and would probably come running. Didn't she have any software that might allow for a clandestine affair? 'Oh God, there's no need for that,' he said, hastily swallowing the rest of his ale. 'I'd better be getting along.' 'So you intended to wait for Erl, but now you have decided to try again later, is that the message I should relay to explain your visit?' 'That's right,' he said. 'I have got some literature that you may find interesting,' she said, pulling something out of a cubby hole. 'Thank you,' he said, making for the door. He glanced at it as he went through. Mitzi was standing well back, as if to pre-empt a parting hug or kiss. The booklet was a glossy catalogue showing androids and mannikins for all situations. There was a message scribbled on the cover: 'See page 14.' So! She must have registered the hints he had been dropping over the past few weeks, because she had got this catalogue ready for him. The message was clear: he could choose his own Mitzi or Kiki or Lulu. He riffled the brochure, then turned to page fourteen. These were the 'hostess' dolls, and many of them were ravishing, easily as attractive as Mitzi. They had hefty price tags too. 'Uh, goodbye, Mitzi.' 'Goodbye,' she said, shutting the door. He heard her shoot the bolt. What a woman, he thought to himself. The grace, the style, the software.