Alien Tongues (41 page)

"Fifty thousand," He replied.

His words were just a little too cool and decisive, especially for such blatant blackmail.  I pulled from my shoulder-pack a medical testing rod, removed one of the towels and applied a portion of the blood stain to the rod's sensor.  It wasn't blood.  I looked up to see his expression waver, and he knew I had seen it.

"Now, that's a crime anywhere in the Galaxy," I commented.

He recovered his composure. "Something tells me you're not going to report it.  On the other hand, I could provide all sorts of stories to your employer.  Ten thousand.  Hand it over right now or it goes up to twenty."

By now, you will probably have concluded that I was extremely unwise to have arranged this casual encounter, if blackmail could be the result.  Yet I viewed it as a calculated risk, and even at this  point I thought the chances of serious consequences were low.  Lonely and horny fem truckers were just a fact of life, and even first-class GW pilots are human.  Official word getting back to an employer was rare and, certainly for a "first offense," would carry a maximum penalty of the next promotion being delayed by one or two years. Big deal.  I might even get more grudging respect from some of the sisters.  By comparison, this cros's reputation would forever be tainted.  Since a cros's only legitimate motivations for sex were courting a wife or being too much of a gentle-cros to refuse, calling the police afterwards inevitably implied prostitution of some kind.  Who would ever then promote him past third-class engineer? He might never get to work on a Goldie again.

I pulled five big ones from my wallet and let them fall to the floor.  I wanted to be fair.  "Here's your pay, Hooker," I told him.  "Now I'm leaving. Consider yourself lucky I didn't wring your neck for the stunt you pulled."

But he was blocking the door.  "Twenty!" he said as I stood almost touching him.  His voice was more desperate than confident now.

So here is the reason I raise this story now.  I felt suddenly very angry.  I had treated this cros fairly and honestly.  The money already spent wasn't small change, even for me.  He had tried to rob me of fifty thousand, and I was letting him get away without punishment.  Instead of recognizing his lucky day, he was pushing for more, and was prepared to physically stop me from leaving the room.  In theory, he could wait there until I missed my departure slot, with all hell to then pay.

I started to push him out of the way, but he frantically grabbed the door-handle for support.  I put my arms round his shoulders and pulled him away from the handle.  He started kicking, his heels hitting my shins.  The pain was awful.  I literally threw him across the room.  He hit the far wall and fell down.  He grabbed one arm and shoulder with a look of agony.

Now this was really trouble.  Whatever our dispute, I had attacked and injured a cros.  In most states, that meant jail time.  I ripped the phone from the wall, left the room and locked the door.  Since it was soundproof, they wouldn't check it until our time was up.  I went downstairs and paid for another two hours, took the elevator back up for the receptionist's benefit, then walked down the fire-escape and exited the hotel via the back door.

I made my way back to my truck and requested an earlier departure.  They managed to shave off an hour.  I continued fueling as long as I could, and was full enough not to look too suspicious.  Once I was off the ground, I was safe – you would need an army to turn back a GW.   Needless to say, I have and never will return to that state again.  I never heard anything more about the incident, but even if they had charged me
in absentia
, the alleged crime is not severe enough to warrant extradition.  I've put it behind me.

Earlier, I had said that, in all my life, I had never seen myself as a physical threat to anyone.   I have admitted how angry I can get, and how that can result in a fairly heavy-handed attempt at self-defense.   But, in response to far less provocation, I have seen the police break arms and crush ribs in the act of restraining someone.  So I stand by my claim, and the young crosins' perspective that I am some kind of potential threat is based on nothing but prejudice and fear.   I found their words far more threatening to me and Ben than we could ever be to them.  Their desire to eliminate mals, by whatever means they considered acceptable to their version of a moral code, and the implicit censure of what I can and can't do as a fem, is both repugnant and scary to me.  What they might be not able to accomplish physically as individuals is easily overwhelmed by their organizational strength. 

I now realized that, if I needed to be some kind of threat in defense of what I consider precious in this life, I was well capable of becoming one.

NOTE TO READER:  TRANSLATION BEYOND THIS POINT CURRENTLY TOO AMBIGUOUS