Alan Foster - The Icerigger Trilogy

“Ah, now, feller-me-lad, there you’re mistaken. Those who meet old Skua don’t forget him so fast, and a promise is a promise even if I am to be a bit late fulfilling it.”

Ethan nodded disgustedly. “That’s it then? You’re just going to run out on me?”

“Now, lad.” September looked hurt. “I’m not running out on you. You’ve chosen to stay here. You can still leave with me if you want to.”

“Sure I can.”

“Sure’s the word. Would you really deny me the choice you deny yourself? After all, I don’t have so much as a job here.”

“I can give you one. I’m going to be in charge, remember. You could be my executive assistant. I’m sure I could arrange a good salary for you.”

“Not good enough, feller-me-lad. Old Skua, he ain’t much for regular employment. I like to kind of keep moving around, if you know what I mean.”

Ethan turned away from him. “All right, then, go on, leave, forget it. Forget me, too. See if I care.”

“I had hoped,” September told him softly, “that our final parting when it came would be under more pleasant circumstances. We’ve been through too much this past year and more to say farewells without smiles, feller-me-lad.” Ethan didn’t reply. “Let’s put it another way. Would you ask anyone else to stay here if they didn’t have to?”

The younger man considered, slumped against the wall. “No. No, you’re right, damn you. It’s wrong of me to expect you to stay just to make it easier on me. You’re carrying around enough emotional baggage without me dumping extra guilt on you.” He managed a smile. “Maybe it’ll help if I can think of one of us enjoying himself someplace else relaxing and taking it easy in the sun.”

“I think you’ve a false conception of what archaeology’s all about, feller-me-lad. From what I’ve heard this Alaspin’s as primitive as they come. Don’t think they’ve got a deep-space beam dug in there yet. But if warmth can be transmitted by telepathy, I’ll do my best to share some with you. Maybe one of these days we’ll both meet under more comforting circumstances.” He looked past Ethan, through the transparent walls that lined both sides of the transition room.

“Let’s put made decisions aside. Here come our friends.”

Ethan turned. Hunnar and his two squires, Suaxus-dal-Jagger and Budjir, were approaching from outside. They halted at the entrance to the chamber, then stepped inside, waving at their human friends. They couldn’t come any farther since the temperature in the outpost would lay them out with heatstroke inside fifteen minutes.

As Ethan and Skua passed into the meeting room, a blast of cold air struck their exposed skin. Leaving the comforting confines of the outpost was always a shock, and this wasn’t even outside. Out on the ice beyond, the midday reading hovered between twenty and thirty below zero—on a clear day. Near the poles it was so cold that if not for the steady circulation of the atmosphere, the air itself would have frozen and fallen to the ground like dust.

Hunnar looked a little heavier than usual, Ethan mused. Marriage was already showing its effects. Greetings were exchanged.

“Well, friend Ethan, were you able to talk across the night to your Landgrave?” At the look on Ethan’s face the Tran adopted a tone of concern. “It went badly?”

“No, not badly. It’s just that—well, it was decided that I’m to stay here and continue with my work.”

“Here?” Suaxus’s pointed ears twitched forward. “With us? But that be wonderful news, Sir Ethan!”

“It is good,” Hunnar agreed. “I understand if you will not be able to return to Sofold with us, but because we now have the Slanderscree we will be able to come and visit you.”

“Yes, and one day I’ll be able to travel in a skimmer.” Despite what Malaika had said about letting employees do the fieldwork Ethan knew he could hardly turn a bunch of innocents lose on the surface of Tran-ky-ky without personal supervision. They wouldn’t last a month. The Tran would eat them alive, perhaps literally.

“I know that our climate and some of our people are not to your liking,” Hunnar said perceptively, “and that mayhap you wish still to return to your home, but when and wherever possible we shall strive to make a home for you here, among us.”

“It won’t be bad,” Ethan assured him, talking as much to himself as to his friends. “For a salesman, home is where you plug in your order screen.” And he had friends here already, he reflected. Unlike humans, when you made friends with a Tran you had a friend for life. He clapped a hand on Hunnar’s arm, feeling the thick bristly fur through the sensitive glove of his survival suit. “Let’s go see how the Slanderscree ’s repairs are coming along. Now that I hold an official position here, I’m going to be able to help you a lot more. Anything Captain Ta-hoding requires in the way of joints or glue or bolts, I’ll be able to requisition from outpost stocks and charge to the company. I can put it all down to priming the customers.” He flipped up his hood but kept the ice visor unsealed. Maybe he couldn’t help himself but he could damn well help his friends.

“That’s the spirit, feller-me-lad.” September hung back. “While you’re out looking over the old Slanderscree I’m going to be getting what personal possessions I have together. The Spindizzy ’s shuttle should be arriving pretty quick now and I won’t want to be late.”

Ethan turned at the exit to grin back at his friend. “You know these commercial shuttles. Some of them are pretty small.” September was six foot ten and built like a tank. “What if they don’t have a seat wide enough to fit you?”

“Why in that case, lad, I’ll have the factotum for the House of Malaika order me up a special crate and I’ll ship myself out as cargo.” He winked. “Happens as how I know the factotum himself and he owes me a favor or two.”

In fact, September was not quite ready for departure when Ethan thumbed the privacy buzzer set in the door of the small apartment the giant had been allotted. Several days had passed and the Spindizzy ’s shuttle rested in the outpost hangar, still taking on cargo and comments.

The door slid into the wall to reveal an awesome sight few human eyes had encountered, or would want to—Skua September clad only in his underwear.

“Come in, young feller-me-lad, come in. In a little while I’ll be off and there’ll be time only to recall the things you wanted to say and didn’t.” He put a hand over the close control. Ethan stayed outside.

“You won’t be off like that, I hope.”

“Not on this world. It’s cold enough in the hanger. Come in, why don’t you, before we shock some passing technocrat?”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Skua. You’re going to have to come out.”

The giant’s huge bushy eyebrows drew together. “Don’t talk riddles with me, feller-me-lad. Not now. I’ve no business remaining here that requires my presence.”

“There’s someone who disagrees with you.”

“And who might that be?”

“The new Resident Commissioner.”

September glared at the floor. “How so? If they need some kind of deposition or statement from me, they can get ahold of me on Alaspin—if they can track down Isili’s site.”

“It’s not that simple, Skua. She’s flagged your boarding pass.”

“Splendid,” he muttered. “If some bureaucratic mama thinks she’s going to keep me off that shuttle, she’s got another thing coming.”

“She sure does. You and me.” He checked his chronometer. “In twenty minutes, to be exact. In her office.”

“What’s the point?” September made no effort to conceal his exasperation. “We’ve already entered everything that happened outside Moulokin in the official records.”