Alan Foster - The Icerigger Trilogy

“I fear your strange clothing lies near the bottom,” Elfa observed.

Ethan eyed the mound of alien attire. “Doesn’t matter. I won’t mind hunting for it. It has to be warmer under there than it is out here.”

By the time he and Skua had recovered and donned their underwear and silvery survival suits, many of the chief nobles and knights of Arsudun had already presented their compliments to the newlyweds and made their exit. In another part of the castle the official feasting had begun. Shouts and snatches of half-sung, half-hissed song drifted into the royal hall.

He hung back while Skua joyfully participated in the raucous celebration. They couldn’t return to the humanx settlement of Brass Monkey until Hunnar’s crew, the sailors and soldiers of the icerigger Slanderscree, finished their reveling. This ended sooner than he’d expected. Not that it should have surprised him. The Sofoldians had been away from their home city of Wannome for more man a year. By now their many friends and relatives must be wondering if the great ice ship had come to grief and its crew of loved ones were no more than bones scattered on the ice. Ethan and Skua were not the only ones overdue at home.

Later that evening as the feasting was drawing to a close, Hunnar drew Ethan and Skua aside. They settled around a small table away from the noise of the main celebration.

“I wish that we could persuade you and your friend Williams to remain awhile longer among us. There is still so much we must learn.”

“Milliken’s sorry he was unable to attend,” Ethan replied, simultaneously envying their schoolteacher friend his decision to skip the wedding and remain behind in Brass Monkey. “I’m sure he’s as sorry as the two of us are that we have to leave, but we’re just not designed to survive on a world like Tran-ky-ky.”

“I would say you have survived well. You are as resourceful as any Tran.”

September sipped at his tankard of brew, letting Ethan do most of the talking. “You’re flattering us,” Ethan told Hunnar, “but even if we could survive here, we want to return to our homes, even as your people want to return to Wannome. It’s time. I’m not an explorer and adventurer by trade, you know. This whole business of Skua and Milliken and I coming to your world, landing among you—it was all an accident.”

“Aye, that’s a fact,” said Skua. “He’s a salesman, he is, and that’s about as unadventurous a profession as a skyperson can pursue.”

“You would give up all you have gained among us?” Hunnar stared at Ethan out of wide yellow eyes. “I could see you made a noble among my people. Vast tracts of land could be yours. The Slanderscree would be at your beck and call to carry you whence and whither you wished.”

Ethan smiled gently. By Tran standards Hunnar’s offer was magnanimous, but it was insufficient compensation for the lack of heated plumbing.

“Thanks, but right now all I want to see is a big city glowing with wasted light and full of naive customers with deep pockets.”

“What of your intentions to do commerce among us, as you once said you had been sent here to do?”

“No offense, but I’ve kinda lost my taste for working this territory. I’ll let some other representative of my company have that honor. I’m assuming that I still have a job, you see. Most companies frown on their employees’ taking a couple of years off without explanation.”

“But surely once you tell your”—Elfa struggled for the proper word—“master of what has happened he will be understanding and allow you to return.”

“Not master, just employer,” Ethan replied irritably, wishing he could scratch his chin but unwilling to pop the visor on his suit. “Although if I could talk to the big boss himself, I might be able to make him understand. I know my regional supervisor won’t.”

She turned her penetrating gaze on Ethan’s companion. “And what of you, friend Skua? A warrior like yourself could command whole armies. There will be much fighting ahead. Not all will be persuaded to join the Union by sweet words. Your skills would be welcomed by our generals.”

“You’re a darlin’, Elfa.” Ethan tensed but Hunnar only grinned, showing sharp canines. September had indulged freely in the local liquor. “But you don’t need me. With your combined forces you’ll be able to overwhelm the most powerful recalcitrant city-state. Don’t need me to make ’em see reason. I’d just be in the way, stealing the glory from some ambitious Tran warrior. Don’t want to step on somebody else’s career. Did that before, once, and it’s never left me. Besides, I’ve got business of my own to attend to.”

Ethan glanced sharply at him. “What business? You never said anything to me about having any business to get back to.”

“What did you think I was about, young feller-me-lad? Retirement?” There was a twinkle in his eye. “There’s this lady friend of long standing got herself a grant to do some studies on one of those out of the way recently discovered worlds Down-Arm. Fuspin—no, Alaspin the place is called. She’s an archaeologist. Been after me for years to give her a hand with one of her projects. Ought to still be out there, poking into alien thises and thatses, getting dirt under her pretty fingernails. Told me this Alaspin’s a jungle world. After our little stint hereabouts why, I’m ready for some sweat and humidity. That’s where I’m bound soon as we can take passage offplanet.” He smiled at Elfa.

“Second time, nothing personal. Your world’s an invigorating place, but just a mite too much so for us humanfolk. So you’ll understand why we’re taking our leave.”

“We will strive to.” She put a warm paw on September’s forearm. “We can offer you many things, but not a substitute for home.”

Home, Ethan thought. Did he have a home? Different nights, different cities on different worlds and then on again. If anyplace were home, it was the long emptiness between stars. Nothingness is my home, he thought, trying to be flip but finding that considering the matter seriously made him uncomfortable. Travel, sign a contract, travel on. It was hard even to remember his world of origin.

And what if he’d lost his job and couldn’t get it back? What to do then? Proceed to the nearest civilized world and seek new employment?

No, he still had a job, was still a sales rep for the House of Malaika. He had to proceed on that assumption. It was all the security he had left. Maybe Elfa was right. Maybe his superiors would understand. One thing he could be sure of: they’d never heard an excuse for extended absenteeism like his.

He was wondering if his samples still sat in the customs warehouse as the Slanderscree docked again in the harbor of Brass Monkey. The icerigger would wait until its honored human passengers rode back toward the stars in one of their skyboats. There was also the matter of stocking the big ship for the long journey homeward.

One thing Ethan had already decided. If he were out of a job, he intended to claim his simple trade goods and give them to Hunnar and Elfa. Let the company sue him for the cost—if they could find him. A modern inert-element space heater would be worth a Landgrave’s ransom to the Tran.

During their recent long journey to Moulokin, the outpost’s engineers had received and installed a deep-space communications beam. For the first time since the establishment of the outpost, its citizens were able to communicate directly with the rest of the Commonwealth without having to wait for the monthly supply ship to carry out messages. The difficulty Ethan faced in trying to contact his superiors was that the beam was booked up for months in advance by long-suffering, long-silenced bureaucrats and researchers. Having been denied regular communication via null-space with the rest of civilization, they were making up for lost years by using the transmitter around the clock. Ostensibly it was all official business. In reality they just wanted to talk.