E. Tubb - Child of Earth

“What are they doing here?”

“Who knows? Who cares?” As the guard lowered his arm Dorph headed towards the gate. “Hurry! Let’s get moving!”

Through the gate, past the guards, the cluster of loungers, the curious, the hopeful, the desperate.

“Mister!” One grabbed at the steward. “You from a ship? I need passage. I can work, do anything, I just have to get away.”

Dorph was curt. “Forget it.”

“I don’t want much. Just a passage.”

“You willing to ride Low?”

“Anything, mister. Anything!”

“Got cash?”

“Some. Look.”

“Not enough.” Dorph waved aside the handful of coins. “It’s no deal.”

“Mister! I’m begging you!”

As they left him behind Dumarest said, “Shouldn’t Jesso have made the decision?”

“Why waste his time? You know the rules-no cash no ride. Anyway, he would never have made it.”

“Jesso-”

“Damn it, Earl, forget Jesso. He would have done the same. Now let’s get on with what we came to do.”

The apothecary was housed in a building adorned with the depiction of great flasks of varied colors. Lamps hung between them, now lit against the growing darkness, casting swathes of cerise, orange, lavender, ruby, golden yellow, lambent emerald. The man himself was small with darting eyes in a creased and puckered face. Around him reared shelves bearing an assortment of containers. Dumarest stared with interest at glowing heaps of crystalline dusts, mounds of elaborately convoluted seeds, phials of enigmatic fluids, the mummified corpses of insects and fish, worms, things like spiders and tadpoles, others like the substance of nightmares.

“Ears,” said the apothecary. “Culled from those executed at dawn, steeped in bile and blood and dried in the heat of a noonday sun. And these-” his finger rapped against another container-“eyes. Plucked from the living sockets of those condemned to end their days in torment. Basted in the effluvium of seared and living fat, chilled, left to shrink in the glow of a gibbous moon. Are you interested, young sir? Have you a problem? Here, within these walls, all can be solved. A subtle poison. A strong aphrodisiac. A rival disposed of and a woman eager to fall into your arms. Could paradise offer more?”

“Forget it,” snapped Dorph. “He may be young but he isn’t stupid.”

“Young, yes, but the future comes closer with each second and each second we age. A year, two, who can tell?” The apothecary’s shrug was as old as time. “Yet, perhaps, the aphrodisiac will not be necessary. Many maidens would be eager to make a gift of their charms. But the poison is another matter. A defence carried against a time of need. A ring, hollowed, shedding a lethal drop into a goblet of wine, feeding the tip of a needle so that a touch would be sufficient. I can supply such a device capable of both means of execution.”

“You’re wasting your time,” said the steward. “He can’t afford it. Anyway, what would he want with poison? He’s just a boy.”

“No,” said the apothecary softly. “In that you are mistaken. Your companion is not a boy. He is a young man. One, I would wager, who has seen more than most. Done more than most. Would you swear I am wrong?” Again he shrugged at the lack of an answer. “Well, if I have nothing he can use, how can I serve you?” He squinted at the paper Dorph slapped down before him. “It seems, my friend, you are in trouble.”

“Never mind that. Can you supply what I need?”

“Be patient.” Again the apothecary studied the list.

“The one coughing blood-how long has the condition lasted?”

“Did I say someone was coughing blood?”

“You ask for a drug designed to combat just such a condition. Naturally, it could have many causes, some relatively harmless. Others could be of far greater concern.”

The apothecary tapped a finger on the list. “Now this item. Slowtime, expensive but-”

“I didn’t come for a lecture,” snapped Dorph. “Can you give me what’s listed? If not I’ll go somewhere else.”

“To the field infirmary, perhaps?” The apothecary’s smile held nothing of humor. “To a registered physician? An officially authorized pharmacy? If so do not let me detain you.” He waited then, “No? Then let us get down to business. You have money? These items are not cheap.”

But the price would include more than the product; silence gained and anonymity provided. Dumarest wondered at the need. Before he could ask the steward snarled his impatience.

“Look at that rubbish.” He gestured at the assembled containers. “Did you believe what he told you?”

“About the eyes and ears?”

“They are fungi and galls. The rest a collection of seeds, pods, roots, fruits, twigs-hell, you name it. Stuff the ignorant believe will bring health and cure their ills.”

“Like those leeches?” Dumarest pointed to a jar in which slender shapes drifted in a murky fluid. “Those maggots?”

Both, he had learned, of worth in the treatment of wounds and a variety of ailments. Despite appearances the apothecary had a knowledge of medicine. Dorph must have known that. But why had he chosen to deal with such a man?

A question unanswered as he returned bearing a parcel.

Dorph checked the contents. Money changed hands. Bolts grated as the door slammed shut behind them.

“Here.” Dorph handed Dumarest the package. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

Night had fallen, clouds shielding the stars, the sky a pattern of reflected light from the distant smelters. On all sides patches of brilliance illuminated the shuttered buildings, lanterns set behind panes of glass glowing in a broad spectrum of color. Shapes moved across them, the figures of pedestrians, cloaked, hooded, some masked against the acrid wind. Coughs merged with the rasp of boots, the tapping of canes.

“Be careful.” Dorph slowed as they neared the glow of illumination from the field, head moving as his eyes quested the dimness. “There could be thieves. We don’t want to be robbed. Killed, even.”

“So close to the field?”

“What’s to stop them?”

“The guards-”

“Are tough when in the company of their own kind. Alone they watch their skin, but you never see them alone.” The steward halted. “This is close enough. You can make your own way from here. Go down that street, turn right at the end, left at the next turn and the field will lie directly ahead. Get to the ship and hand over the parcel. If the others aren’t there Raistar will manage.”

“What about you?”

“That’s my business.”

“You’re the steward,” said Dumarest. “You should conduct any medication. It isn’t Raistar’s job.”

Dorph said, thickly, “Listen, boy! I’ve had enough of your mouth. Just remember who you are and do as you’re told.”

He added, as Dumarest drew in his breath, “If you want to keep riding with us just do as I say. Deliver the parcel. I’ve other things to do.”

He vanished into the writhing mist and Dumarest resisted the urge to follow him. The man had never been a friend and now he’d shown his true colors. Later he would decide what to do about it. Now he had the drugs to deliver and a life to save.

A shadow loomed before him as he neared the gate. A thick arm clamped his chest and a hand rose to cover his mouth.

“Don’t move! Don’t make a noise!”

Zander. Dumarest froze in obedience. A hand tore the cap from his head.

“Earl? Where’s Dorph?” The engineer snarled as Dumarest told him. “Walked away? Threatened you? Took off while he was safe. The bastard! He won’t be safe for long!”

“What’s happening? Zander! Tell me!”

“Something you won’t like hearing.” The engineer loosened his grasp and Dumarest turned to face him. The man’s face was drawn, marred by an ugly bruise on the left cheek. A trail of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.