Beneath the Eye of God (The Commodore Ardcasl Space Adventures Book 1) (19 page)

"But I don't think so," the Commodore said.

"Nor do I," Elor agreed.

***

The aircar skimmed smoothly a few feet above the sea. The Commodore decided to approach the highlands from the nearest seaport, a large city where they could find transportation up the trade road into the mountains. As the aircar would make them too conspicuous and add to the price of anything they wanted to buy, they planned to disembark on a deserted beach, send the car back to its starting point and walk into town.

Ohan had been astonished at the speed with which the coastline had receded behind them. Now with nothing but endless sea and no sense of motion inside the quiet little craft, he settled back to enjoy the ride. If a person had to travel and he wasn't at all sure that a person did—this certainly beat horseback riding.

The aircar was a bit crowded with the six or seven of them, depending on how many times you counted Malie. She was on one side in the back seat. Ohan was on the other, one of the twins' knapsacks in his lap. Between them was a basket, the contents of which Ohan didn't care to think about. Malie and Feathered Shield had insisted on bringing it. She said it gave him a place to go so he wouldn't be with her all the time. In the basket, carefully packed among Malie's few spare clothes, was Feathered Shield's skull.

The Commodore piloted them off the beach, then turned the controls over to Erol. He swiveled his chair around to face Leahn and Elor in the center seat. "We will want to remain as inconspicuous as possible. The boys and I have had considerable practice at that and a large seaport sees some pretty strange sights. Ohan and Malie should fit right in." He raised his voice for Malie's benefit. "Especially if she keeps that accursed basket closed. But Leahn is a problem. We can't risk your being recognized, my dear. So we have a change of costume for you."

Elor stood and pulled a large roll of dark fabric from an overhead compartment. "Actually it's the Commodore's hammock," Elor said. "He has reluctantly agreed to sacrifice it for the good of the cause. There should be more than enough material for an all-concealing cloak and hood."

The Commodore brought out a small sewing machine. "Enough material?" he snorted. "Not only must I suffer the loss of a prized possession, but I must endure insult as well. Stand up, my dear, so I can take your measure. Lucky for you I learned the sailmakers' trade on the shoreless red seas of Ceti Alpha III. Did I ever tell you of the mermaids there who . . . I did? Pity. I have retained my love for fish to this very day."

The finished garment resembled a monk's robe with a deep hood that hid Leahn's face. To complete the disguise, Elor brought out a pair of goggles. "These may also prove useful later on. They can be set for either heat-seeking or light-amplification."

Leahn struggled into her new outfit in the limited interior of the aircar and laced on her sword belt over the robe. When she turned her dark hooded face to Ohan, he saw only the glint of blank lenses staring out at him. Even knowing who was inside, he was intimidated.

They landed after nightfall on a deserted beach. Erol set the aircar controls to retrace its route, to be hidden beneath the trees by the children until it was needed again. They disembarked, sealed the car and sent it on its way in less than two minutes, then settled down to await the dawn.

It was noticeably cooler in these higher latitudes. Malie burrowed in among the folds of the Commodore's heavy coat. "This coast must face in a different direction than ours at home," she whispered. "It seems funny not to see the Eye of God out beyond the sea. Even on dark nights there was always a little of it peeking over the horizon."

"You will see many unusual sights before you return to your familiar shore. Are you frightened?"

"A little. Even Feathered Shield is a little nervous. He hasn't been out for 500 years."

Morning found them a short distance from the seaport road. They were soon overtaken by a group of wagon drivers who started to comment on the twins' unusual appearance. Then they caught sight of Leahn's dark hooded figure girt with its ancient sword. She made the twins seem almost commonplace. A few coppers bought a ride into town. The steady plodding of the wagon's mares seemed slow after weeks in the saddle aboard the stallions.

***

The port had grown haphazardly around the only all-weather anchorage on that coast. It also served a wide inland area both in the highlands and along the coastal foothills. This guaranteed the town a profitable commerce. It tried to hide its affluence behind a commonplace, even run-down facade. Wealth unadvertised was less likely to attract the attention of those who might insist on a share of it. Inside the dingy shops, everything was for sale.

The Commodore found what he sought in one of them. He emerged in a costume even more startling, Ohan thought, than his red silk pajamas. Ohan had only a limited acquaintance with the phenomenon called style—all of it from other students at school. As near as he could determine, style was judged by a rapidly changing set of standards that rejected the practical in favor of the picturesque.

The Commodore's new outfit, Ohan immediately suspected, must be the height of style. It was exceedingly picturesque and not the least bit practical. From the pointed toes of his shiny high-heeled boots to the plume in his floppy hat, he was all swirling fabric and clashing color, a symphony of the unlikely without a single garment that would survive an hour's ride through the forest.

He seemed to have changed inside as well as out. "You like it, sweetie?" Ohan had to look around before he realized the Commodore was speaking to him. "It's the absolute latest from the capital. The sales fellow said few of the local bumpkins have the imagination or the panache to carry it off quite the way I do. He was very excited by my color sense as indeed, others have been before him. But I say if you can't bring a dash of color and excitement to the provinces, well, what's the point of life anyway?"

Malie had been struck silent by the awesome spectacle. Now she clapped her hands in glee. "It's beautiful. You look like one of the gods come alive off the pages of a book except you don't have quite as many feathers. Can I have a new outfit too?"

"Ah, flattery. I love it." The Commodore drew a lavender handkerchief from his sleeve and let her smell its perfume. "But we all have our rolls to play. I am fated to be beautiful and you, my child, to be dowdy. If you play your role well," he winked, "I may let you have these when we're done."

He turned to the twins. "Speaking of roles, gentlemen, you'd best assume yours."

Each of them took a strange pair of glasses from their pockets and fitted them into place. Ohan had never seen these before. Their effect left him astonished. The lenses were as thick as his thumb and distorted the twins' yellow eyes giving them the appearance of two out-of-place fish blinking in the sunlight.

"There you have it," the Commodore announced. "My two poor comrades suffering under the feeble glow of this pitiful little sun. The travel agent assured us that this was a suitable world. Can you imagine the incompetence? But of course one finds it everywhere. The light here is barely out of the red, very little white and not a touch of blue, not a fraction over 5,000 degrees Kelvin and what are we to do? Well, my dear, I never would have brought them if we had known, but here we are and making the best of it, as usual. The glasses can augment it a little but it's like the bottom of your pocket to them even at high noon and it's left to me to do all the work. But I'm used to that. What's one more stone in an already heavy load?"

He sighed a ponderous sigh at the curious spectators who were beginning to gather. "What can I do?" he cried morosely. "I bought them this seeing-eye child but they keep falling over her." Then he turned and pranced cheerfully down the street, beckoning to the other to follow. "Ah well, it's ever onward, chums. Let's find a nice bright tavern, have a little libation and buy ourselves a ride into the highlands."

As the strange party trooped off, Ohan marveled to see the twins actually become stooped and clumsy, groping along clinging to Malie, their seeing-eye child, she with one hand in theirs, the other clutching her basket.

They chose a tavern near the center of town. All around it, long trains of wagons were being loaded with goods to be hauled up the great inland road to the towns and farms of the plateau. The tavern was filled with the drivers who would be taking the heavily laden vehicles up the long road. The entrance of the Commodore's group attracted considerable attention which he turned to his advantage by loudly announcing that he would pay well for the most luxurious transport into the mountains. Several drivers scurried out to inform their masters that a well-healed tourist was in town.

While the twins groped their way to an empty table, several others in the tavern approached the Commodore with the intention of relieving him of his obviously overfull purse. The sight of his hooded and armed companion stopped them cold.

The round of drinks he bought for the house raised their hopes but the story he then launched into dashed their dreams of quick wealth completely. "What, gentlemen? You don't see any Cirians here? Well, perhaps not. They don't travel much. Fine companions though. Never say anything because they can't speak. Don't eat much either. They have few real enthusiasms beyond killing. They do enjoy that. Ah, I wouldn't touch him if I were you, son. They don't care for that either. It makes them nervous. They lash out. Once they start, they're hard to stop. They prefer laser weapons but since those are banned on this planet, he found that old sword. Fell in love with its fabulous workmanship. Insisted I buy it for him. Practices with it by the hour. Anyone care for a demonstration? No? How about another round of drinks then?"

They arranged passage on a wagon train leaving that same afternoon. In keeping with his new image, the Commodore paid half again as much as the usual rate and pronounced himself pleased with his hard bargaining. They also learned a good deal about the recent activities of Leahn's uncle, Blackman Nol. The attack on his brother's estate had allowed him to take over the freight depot and town at the head of the pass where all the road traffic stopped after the five-day climb up from the coast.

He and his motley army pretended they were protecting traffic from bandits. But few drivers doubted that it was his own men who had committed most of the original outrages. Nol then proceeded to double and triple the fees the drivers paid for everything from hay and water for their animals to drink and women for themselves. There was a great deal of complaining in the tavern but without an alternate route, the drivers had no choice. They paid his prices.

"Well personally," the Commodore gushed, "this Blackman Nol fellow sounds like a fascinating character, someone out of an old space-pirate story. I look forward to doing business with him."

The weatherbeaten old wagon master they had just signed up with, cast a weary eye at the gaudy figure beside him and growled, "Blackman Nol will be happy to see you too. He should finish you off in about three bites."

***

The journey into the highlands was long and tedious. The road was relatively good across the rich coastal plain but once they began to climb into the foothills it narrowed and they had to ford a river several times. Then they entered a series of switchbacks cut into the face of the steeper hillsides and progress slowed considerably.

The luxury accommodations the Commodore had paid more than generously for, turned out to be a few extra pillows, and not particularly clean ones at that. They did have part of two wagons all to themselves however, with plenty of room to store their packs.

The twins did not socialize in their new guise. They kept busy cleaning their equipment. The Commodore, with Leahn's dark figure always silent at his back, joined the wagon masters at their evening campfires and though they laughed as much at him as with him, the large supply of liquor he brought assured him a grudging welcome.

The grizzled old drivers prided themselves on their capacity for strong drink but come morning, none could ever recall exactly how interested the Commodore had been in all the details of their destination and its inhabitants or how he had managed to remain alert while they had, one by one, dozed off.

Ohan and Malie were encouraged to poke their noses everywhere they weren't thrown out of and talk to everyone who would talk to them. Malie was particularly adept at ingratiating herself with even the gruffest of drivers. They saved bits of their evening meals for her and patiently answered her endless childish questions.

Ohan had not seen any of his people at the port or on the road but several of the apprentice drivers were obviously only a few generations away from the forest. They were striving mightily to fit in with the older drivers. Ohan's presence gave them someone to look down on. He emphasized his recent arrival and found them more than willing to play the role of old trail hand for their country cousin.

He discovered that they were all terrified of the approaching depot and planned to stay close to their wagons and to venture out only with trusted older drivers. Blackman Nol's strong-arm men were apparently everywhere and thought nothing of snatching an inexperienced apprentice. He would simply disappear and his train would continue on without him. Though no one knew for sure, there were rumors of forced labor battalions working under the whip to build an empire for Blackman Nol.