Balance of Terror (8 page)

If she’d thought about it at all, that was what Moon would have been expecting. But, as they turned the corner to face the Colken South Employment Centre, that wasn’t what confronted her. She remembered her undergraduate biology classes. Rats, birds, Flavian wet-world termites. That’s what she was forcibly reminded of, staring slightly downhill at the chaos spread out before them. For a start, she didn’t even know where the building’s entrance was. The centre was situated on a corner and there were crowds of people jamming every square centimetre of the sidewalk. More than that, they were even spilling out on the road, forcing ground traffic to swerve widely around them.

“It looks…busy,” Srin remarked drily.

Nobody seemed to be standing still. They crowded each other in a seething mass of beings, nudging, obstructing, colliding, beneath a blinding hot sun.

No, not termites, Moon thought to herself. They were more like electrons, bouncing off each other, careering wildly while still in orbit around the nucleus that was the employment centre.

She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how we’re going to do it, but we’ve got to find Gauder.”

They headed down the street. How were they going to find their contact in
this
, Moon wondered.

When they were ten metres from the corner of the road, a figure detached itself from his position, leaning against a wall, and walked up to them, flinging an arm around each of their shoulders.

“Well, I think I’ve caught meself a couple of offworlders here,” he growled.

Moon turned sharply. She got the impression of a large bald head, squinting eyes and bushy eyebrows. She was about to pull away when she noticed the grin on his face. It didn’t make him look any more approachable.

“Would you care to step with me?” he asked.

Even if they wanted to, there was little chance of doing anything other than going along with the stranger. His thick hands held them in a vice as he steered them to the left and away from the centre.

“Mesmerised by our local, job-seekin’ population, were ye? They’re like feral animals,” he added with a shake of his head, “out for a juicy piece o’ meat, not carin’ if they rip each other to shreds in the process.”

“Are you Gauder?” Moon asked hesitantly.

“Figured that out, did ya? Aye, I’m Gauder.”

She sighed with relief. “We were sent by—”

“I know who sent yer,” he interrupted sharply. “No need to go yellin’ it all up and down the street, is there?”

Moon didn’t think she had “yelled” anything. In fact, she thought she had kept her voice low and calm.

“We’ll stop in here,” he said, “while I explain the facts of life to yer.”

Once again, they were turned by his beefy arms into the doorway of what appeared to be a dark cavern. The scent of fermented hops hit Moon’s nose before her eyes adjusted to the gloom, informing her that they were entering a bar.

Gauder appeared to be a well-known patron because he lifted one hand briefly to acknowledge scattered calls of welcome, then he herded all three of them to a booth in the far corner. Srin slid in first over the torn soft covering, followed by Moon. Gauder sat opposite, staring at them intently for a moment across the bare metal table.

“Yer stand out like two cockroaches in a white bowl,” he finally said. “Three over ‘ere, Tal,” he shouted, then his gaze flicked back to them. “Cockroaches in a bowl. Know that?”

Moon didn’t know what to say and, judging by Srin’s continued silence, neither did he.

Gauder sighed. “But yer here now and my responsibility, so I guess we don’t get much o’ a choice, do we?”

“No,” Srin replied evenly. “I guess we don’t.”

“See, here’s how it is. Yer couldn’t a picked a worse time to come visitin’. Am just about to start me half-year tour and it can’t wait while I deliver two fragile flowers to the other side of the damned planet.”

A short brittle silence ensued.

“Does that mean you won’t help us?” Moon asked. Fear vied with relief.

Gauder shifted in his chair but remained silent when a lean human approached with a tray of tall glasses.

“Thank yer, Tal.” He lifted a glass and drained half the frothy liquid in a series of swallows. Moon watched his undulating throat with fascination.

“Don’t go puttin’ words in me mouth.” He wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “I’m sure we can come to some agreement. After all, I pride meself on being a businessman.” He watched them, as if considering their worth. “G’on, have something to drink. Living on Marentim is thirsty work.”

Moon pulled the heavy glass closer to her and took a demure sip. At her side, Srin drank more deeply and smacked his lips with satisfaction.

“That’s quite good,” he said, and she heard the surprise in her lover’s voice.

“Best damned brewery this side o’ the equator,” Gauder replied. “Why do yer think I keep a branch office here?”

Moon wasn’t here to talk beer, or mead, or whatever the hell it was that she was drinking. And she didn’t care whether their host was thinking of opening an off-world embassy in the underworld itself. “Look, Mr. Gauder—”

“Just Gauder,” he interrupted.

“Gauder, it may not be wise to say so but we are both trying to avoid Republic attention.” Something struck her. “Didn’t your message say that we had the Security Force on our trail? How did you know?”

He snorted. “There’s not much happens in Toltuk or Colken, or any point between, that I don’t know about. As for the Security Force itself, well they were bound to happen across two such as you sooner or later.”

Moon couldn’t believe her ears. “You mean, we
weren’t
under immediate danger?”

“Depends on how you define ‘immediate’ now, don’t it?” He smacked his lips after gulping down some more brew. “And ‘danger’.”

“Then I don’t think we have anything more to say to each other.”

Moon was furious. She didn’t care how she did it, but she was determined to get her and Srin off the planet and to their destination without accepting any help from the despicable man sitting opposite. She made a move to get up, and found her arm caught by Gauder’s beefy hand.

“Now now, no need to get all hysterical on me,” Gauder quipped. He turned to Srin. “She always like this?”

“She doesn’t suffer fools gladly,” Srin answered.

Left without a choice, Moon subsided into the bench. Gauder let go.

“Well that should make us the best o’ pals then, ‘cos I don’t suffer fools gladly either!” He leant forward and lowered his voice. “Listen here, missy, there are men in this bar’d sell you for another measure o’ brew and no second thoughts about it. I said yer my responsibility and yer are. So here’s my deal.

“I can’t rearrange everything, but I can make sure I get you to the rendezvous point a bit quicker.”

“How quick?” Srin asked.

“Two months. Maybe three.”

“Three more
months
?” Moon hissed. “If you think the Security Force are bound to find us, what’s to stop them doing it within the next three months? We can’t afford to be here that long.”

“Have yer been out there?” Gauder pointed to the tavern’s wall. “Been out beyond Toltuk, beyond Colken? Out in the real Marentim?”

She stared at him mutinously and refused to answer.

“Findin’ you in a city’s one thing. Gadgets, technology, informants. Lots o’ all that floatin’ around. But out there,” he jerked his head, “out there, yer more likely to die from exposure than a Republic laser in yer neck.”

“So what are you suggesting?” Srin sounded reasonable and genuinely curious, which was more than Moon thought herself capable of. She gritted her teeth.

“Yer help me with the visits I have t’make. And rather than yer getting’ off this rock in six months, yer get off this rock in three.”

Srin licked his lips. “What kind of help?” Beneath the cover of the tabletop, he held Moon’s hand but she felt the tremors moving through his bones. She knew she had pushed him and his physical capabilities since early morning and wondered how long he could hold out. Suddenly, from the trembling in his limbs, she knew she had to end this discussion. Now.

“We’ll do it,” she interrupted.

Gauder lifted a thick eyebrow and turned slowly to face her. “Yer don’t even know what I need doin’.”

Moon swallowed. “It can’t be too much of a mystery, can it? Maybe someone to help drive your vehicle, or fetch supplies, or…things.”

He gave them the hint of a smile. “So yer not just a yabberin’ mouth then.” He nodded. “Yep, that’d be the size of it. Be my assistants and I’ll get yer to where yer goin’ in half the time. As yer say, I need ‘things’ fetched.”

“When do we leave?” she asked.

“All fired up now the deal’s done, eh? That’s the way I like to do business too.” He drained his glass and stood. “Right now if it suits yer. Let’s get goin’. Oh, one more thing.” His gaze sharpened and he indicated Srin with a jerk of his chin. “You. Are yer a cripple or somethin’?”

Srin’s hand tightened on Moon’s for a second –
let me handle this
– before he answered. “I’m recovering from a long illness,” he said calmly.

“Not a permanent condition then, yer lookin’ as if yer about to collapse?”

“Just temporary.”

“’Cos I don’t tolerate layabouts.”

“Wouldn’t dream of asking you to.”

“Good. Then we understand each other perfectly.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Let’s pay for our drinks then and we’re off. The sooner we leave, the sooner yer get to leave, eh?”

Moon and Srin followed in his wake.

“Amen,” Moon muttered to herself, but nobody else heard her.

Chapter Six

The three of them caught a taxi to a “compound”, as Gauder put it. While
en route
, their burly companion made a muttered call to someone. Somewhere near the end of the conversation, the dialogue devolved to shouted imprecations before Gauder flung his comms unit away from him, sinking into the opposite seat with disgust.

“Just makin’ some plans,” he said with a wink and a lightning-fast change of expression when he caught Moon watching him.

That didn’t reassure her at all. Next to her, Srin dozed off and she tried to make it appear as if she was doing likewise.

The sun was high in the sky when they reached their destination. Moon stepped out of the vehicle gingerly, after shaking Srin awake.

“Here we are,” Gauder declared. “This is all mine. Beautiful, ain’t she?”

A lot of adjectives sprang to mind, but “beautiful” wasn’t one of them. As the taxi moved off, and at Gauder’s cheerful gesture of welcome, Moon walked into a compound, turning slowly. She took in the particulars of what could only be described as a junkyard, from the high opaque metal gates at one end, to a small parade of rusting vehicles piled in leaning columns, and a pair of large sheds clad in rippled panelling.

“The Republic can come here any time they like, but they won’t find what they’re after.” He winked broadly again and laughed. “C’mon, let’s get everything packed up to move.”

He walked across the bare earth to one shed and was about to reach for the access panel when someone zipped around the corner to confront him. Moon and Srin stood in place, watching the altercation.

The alien – that much was obvious from the sloping, elongated head, slit-like eyes and skin almost as dark as Moon’s – approached Gauder and jabbered in a language Moon didn’t understand.

“Ah, gerroff,” Gauder growled, pushing him away. “I thought I told yer! I found another driver for this trip.”

The alien obviously objected to this. Another stream of indecipherable language streamed from its thin lips.

“That’s not my problem,” the merchant replied. “Circumstances change. I’m running a business here, not a damned charity.”

The ousted driver didn’t give up. He tugged at Gauder’s sleeve forcibly, the gestures timed to emphasise its words.

Gauder eventually pulled away. “Go see Tal in that case…yes, at the tavern…I don’t care what yer think of those places, he’s in need of a part-time delivery man. He may take yer, more likely not, but that’s none of my concern….”

The alien hesitated and Gauder took advantage of it by shoving him backwards with both hands. “Ah to hell with yer, the last thing I need is yer thanks.”

He glared over to where Moon and Srin were still standing. “The vehicles aren’t goin’ t’ drive themselves across the planet, yer know.”

“He’s such a gracious host,” Srin murmured, as they followed Gauder to one of the sheds, “how can we refuse?”

Moon wasn’t mollified. She watched as the alien looked back at them then sloped off towards the front gates. “If I thought, for a moment, that there was another way—”

“There isn’t. And who knows? We may find there’s gold under that thick skin of his.”

“This ain’t a social club! Get yer bums over here or I’ll turf yer both out meself.”

Srin grimaced. “Or not.”

The shed they entered seemed a lot bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside. Two large vehicles were parked beside a separate workshop that was outfitted with benches, shelves and several pieces of heavy equipment. Dust specks rose in eddies from the floor and swirled around the three of them, glinting in the sunbeams that stabbed through occasional frosted panels in the roof. The shed was crowded, the powdery air tickled at Moon’s nose, but everything was neatly arranged.

Gauder pointed to the newer-looking of the two vehicles. “I’ll drive the lead. You’ll follow.”

Srin frowned and approached closer, resting his hand on a metal plate while he peered beneath the vehicle’s heavy chassis. “Do I see…treads?”

“Aye, treads.”

Srin turned to their host. “You drive these on the terrain itself? These are
ground
vehicles?”

“Yer’ve never had to do much manual work, have yer?” Gauder spoke as he moved, his actions quick and sure. “Fer a start, the mass of my merchandise exceeds a lot of above-ground transport specs, and I ain’t a government, able to waste money jes’ so I can hover over a road.” He periodically referred to a checklist pinned to one of the workshop pillars, but kept talking. “Second, out there, I need tech I can depend on. Engines I can repair. Parts I can cobble together. In other words, the kind o’ life that doesn’t come with fancy skimmers or low-altitude speeders.” He stopped and stared at them intently. “We travel on the ground every centimetre of the way.”