Jo Clayton: Crystal Heat

When she woke, she knew there was only once place where she could feel safe for the next year. She had to go home.

3. Worm’s View

“Your jodidda juice din’t work. They got Xman, stinking slinkies. Almost got me, but I slid.”

The ears on the Kliu image curled tight and the eating mouth opened to show the tearing teeth. The speaking mouth rippled as if the old male wanted to chew the words, but when the sounds came through the twit cones, they were mild enough. “The woman remains at the Market?”

“The smuggler? When slinkies let her go, she took off. I got an idea where, but I don’t say no jodidda thing, and I don’t go nowhere till you pry Xman loose.”

“That requires consultation. I will get back to you.”

For several minutes Worm stared at the glassy blankness of the screen, fingers of one hand plucking at the plas cover on the chair ann. He moved his shoulders finally, straightened his back, and reached for the flake case.

“Da, Xman got snicked by the slinkies.”

The old man glared at him from the snakes tangle of wires and tubes of the Sustainer. “How come you clean?”

“Way we planned it, I zombi the femme and get out, he fetches her, I hit for the ship and get ready to go. When that don’t come off, he hits out for me anyway, but he don’t make it. I see peacer ’bots globe him and they got one jodiddan huge shaker with ’em, wouldda dusted me good if I’d tried snatching ’im. I cut out but stay in system, get through to Sniff Herk and he tells me that the slinkies,, they read Xman’s head, blew it clean and laid a contract on him. And they got a pickup for me, so I can’t go back. I get on to the scivs, tell ol’ jodface he gonna buy Xman out or I don’t go nowhere. They don’t come through, you better send Dogboy and Trish to see if they can lever him out.”

“You shoot y’ mouth too fast, boy. You gonna have some backin’ down to do if scivs set their claws and won’t move. They still got Mort, so they got us by the cojos. You gotta get that femme, so we hold value for the trade. When they lookin’ at her meat ’n all, they know they gotta do a deal.”

“Sorry, Da. I was so burned they give Xman junk juice, I din’t think. Da, call light’s on, I gotta go.”

“Since our investigations indicated that it was indeed a failure of the drug that led to the capture, we will extract your brother from his current situation. We will place him with your other brother to wait a successful outcome of this business.”

The screen blanked.

Worm swore and reestablished the link with his father to let him know about this turn in their collective fate.

4. Pillory is Not a Nice Place

When the Pillory shuttle landed, Shadith stood, the servomotors of the exo doing most of the work and the muscle braces shifting to optimize their restraints. She sagged everywhere-which was disconcerting because she had thought she was in fairly good shape. And Digby was right about the Kliu trying to template her; she could feel the exo’s defenses powering up as probes licked at them. The interference waves gave her a low-level headache that was like an itch inside her skull.

The shuttle was the one the Kliu used to transport prisoners. The seats were fitted with massive restraints, there were ominous apertures with metal snouts in them, the unpainted walls were scratched and dull, marked with stains she didn’t want to think about.

She tapped alive the robot mule, clicked along behind it to the exit and stood waiting for the lock to cycle open, wondering as she waited if transporting her in this thing was a deliberate insult. It seemed likely. Well, Shadow, take it as a warning and let Autumn Rose be your model. Cool is it. Losing your temper isn’t an option.

She wrinkled her nose as the slide chunked back, exposing a battered wooden ramp shoved up against the shuttle. The air smelled like the backside of all the Star Streets she’d ever walked through.

She let the mule haul her gear outside, then followed it down the ramp, happier with the exo as it settled into the performance mode it was made for. A juvenile Kliu was waiting at the foot of the ramp, a crocodilian centaur, his six stubby legs stirring up the noisome dust of the enclosure, the lips of his eating mouth clicking together with disgust and disgruntlement. His ears were rolled tight-which was another sign of discourtesy if the-diplo guide Digby had secured for her was accurate. He was signaling that nothing she said had-enough worth for him to bother giving her mOre than the most marginal attention.

He swung his body around and marched away as soon as she reached the end of the ramp, his clawed feet going stomp stomp crunch crunch creak creak, the thick arms swinging, hands closed into fists. Digby said they squealed as if he were chewing on their soft parts when he insisted his agent look over the scene herself. He had to threaten to give back the advance three times before they capitulated. It was obvious they grudged every second of her presence on planet. Their suspicions weren’t all that unjustified either, considering Digby’s instructions about remembering and reporting everything she saw.

With the mule humming beside her and the exo doing its job, cradling and supporting her and powering her walk, she followed her escort through a series of dingy, badly lit corridors. Empty corridors. Servant stairs. So I won’t offend their delicate eyes with my alien verminhood.

Muttering in his guttural Kliubre, the guide plunged ahead, turning corners until Shadith was dizzy with the circles she was being led in; finally, though, he slowed, slapped at something on the broad belt where his horny torso joined the horizontal portion of his body. The thing let out a blat like a hungry tantser calf and repeated the blat at fifteen-second intervals as he went stumping down a broader corridor.

Shadith followed, her annoyance increasing. She didn’t think much of being treated like the carrier of multiple plagues.

Her guide waved at a door, shut off the blatter, and settled into the Kliu equivalent of parade rest. She exoed past him, the metal sponge pads of her soles clinking and scraping against the metacrete floor, the ’hot mule humming beside her.

The Kliu subadministrator inspected her in heavy silence. His speaking mouth made a few preliminary twitches; the sound that came out was a musical tenor that made her want to giggle at the absurd contrast with that mass of muscle and armored skin. “We have few facilities for srin in the Island Chains.”

Srin, she thought. Small itchy pests that infest the anal glands. That’s not what the book says, but it’s what you mean. I can see you sniggering with your peers at how you’ve got over on those stinking aliens.

“The prisoners we get here are a dangerous, desperate lot,” he said. “Lifers, all of them. Many of them are political with very little concern for the lives of those who do not share their particular beliefs or belong to their genetic group.”

Takes one to know one.

“You must understand, we do not guard the prisoners. We guard the world. Those who refuse the work we offer are provided with materials and tools so they can build their own shelters, and with adapted seedstock so they can raise their own food. We have a series of satellites watching them to stop any activities we consider dangerous to us and we do occasional ground checks for various reasons. Otherwise we leave them alone. It will be difficult, if not impossible to protect you in these circumstances.”

Bite your tongue, Shadow. You don t want to tell ol’ crocface he lies in his fangs. That’s not tactful. “Come now, Exalted Cheba, I’m sure you don’t mean that the island where you harvest the crystals is unguarded.”