Ларри Нивен - Crashlander

Sharrol (bubbling): «Hello! Thank you for Jan's life, and thank you for teaching him to sail. I never could show him how to do that. We're going to buy a boat as soon as we can afford it.»

Me: «I'm ready to face the human race again. I hope you are too. This may help.» I turned the camera off.

«What are you giving them?» Sharrol asked.

«Silverware, service for a dozen. Now they'll have to develop a social life.»

«Do you think they turned you in?»

«They had to. They did well by me, love. What bothers me is, they'll never be sure I'm not a murderer. Neither will the police. This is a wonderful planet for getting rid of a corpse. I'll be looking over my shoulder for that kzinti cop —»

«No, Bey —»

«He smelled our fear.»

«They smell everyone's fear. They make wonderful police, but they can't react every time a kzin makes a human nervous. He may have pegged you as an outworlder, though.»

«Oop. Why?»

«Bey, the kzinti are everywhere on Fafnir, mostly on the mainland, but they're on site at the fishing sources too. Fafnir sea life feeds the whole Patriarchy, and it's strictly a kzinti operation. Shashters are used to kzin. But kids and wimps and outworlders all get twitchy around them, and they're used to that.»

He might have smelled more than our fear, I thought. Our genetic makeup, our diet … but we'd been eating Fafnir fish for over a month, and Fafnir's people were every breed of man.

«Stet. Shall we deal with the Hand of Allah?»

Now she looked nervous. «I must have driven them half crazy. And worried them sick. It's a good gift, isn't it? Shorfy and Isfahan were constantly complaining about fish, fish, fish —»

«They'll love it. It's about five ounces of red meat per crewman — I suppose that's —»

«Free-range life-forms from the hunting parks.»

«And fresh vegetables to match. I bet the kzinti don't grow those. Okay, take one —»

Sharrol: «Captain Muh'mad, I was a long time recovering my memory. I expect the 'docs did more repair work every time I went under. My husband's found me, we both have jobs, and this is to entertain you and your crew in my absence.»

Me: «For my wife's life, blessings and thanks.» I turned it off. «Now Carlos.»

Her hand stopped me. «I can't leave, you know,» Sharrol said. «I'm not a coward —»

«Feather learned that!»

«It's just … overkill. I've been through too much.»

«It's all right. Carlos has Louis and Tanya for awhile, and that's fine, they love him. We're free of the UN. Everything went just as we planned it, more or less, except from Feather's viewpoint.»

«Do you mind? Do you like it here?»

«There are transfer booths if I want to go anywhere. Sharrol, I was raised underground. It feels just like home if I don't look out a window. I wouldn't mind spending the rest of our lives here. Now, this is for Ms. Machti at Outbound, not to mention any watching ARMs. Ready? Take one.

Me: «Hi, John! Hello, kids! We've got a more or less happy ending here, brought to you with some effort.»

Sharrol: «I'm pregnant. It happened yesterday morning. That's why we waited to call.»

I was calling as Martin Wallace Graynor. Carlos/John could reach us the same way. We wanted no connection between Mart Graynor and Jan Hebert …

Visuals were important to the message. The undersea forest was behind us. I stood next to Sharrol, our eyes exactly level. That'd give him a jolt.

Me: «John, I know you were worried about Mil, and so was I, but she's recovered. Mil's a lot tougher than even Addie gave her credit for.»

Sharrol: «Still, the situation was sticky at first. Messy.» She rubbed her hands. «But that's all over. Mart's got a job working outside in the water orchards —»

Me: «It's just like working in free-fall. I've got a real knack for it.»

Sharrol: «We've got some money too, and after the baby's born I'll take Mart's job. It'll be just like I'm back in my teens.»

Me: «You did the right thing, protecting the children first. It's worked out very well.»

Sharrol: «We're happy here, John. This is a good place to raise a child, or several. Some day we'll come to you, I think, but not now. The changes in my life are too new. I couldn't take it. Mart is willing to indulge me.»

Me (sorrowfully): «Addie is gone, John. We never expect to see her again, and we're just as glad, but I feel she'll always be a part of me.» I waved the camera off.

Now let's see Carlos figure that out. He does like puzzles.

«So there you have it,» I told Ander. «Carlos is dead. I saw Feather shoot him before she shot me. Sharrol and the children must have gotten away. Feather stayed to put me in the 'doc, then used the other boat.

«She left me marooned on a desert island. I think she'd already given up on catching Sharrol. Otherwise, why would she need me for a hostage? I can't guess where they all are now, but if Feather was holding Sharrol, I think I'd know it.»

«How?»

«By now she must know I'm gone. She could advertise on the personals net. There hasn't been anything like that.»

Ander held his peace. No point in his telling the poor crashlander that his story leaks like a NASA spacecraft. From the way I'd told it, Ander could only guess that Feather had covered her back trail. Sharrol and the children must be as dead as Carlos, and Beowulf Shaeffer didn't have the courage to face it.

If he bought it, Ander would be hunting Feather, not Carlos.

«And I live in Pacifica because anywhere else I'd need pills to protect me from sunlight. Feather might trace that. Ander, can you do something about Feather? I keep expecting her to pop up behind my ear.»

«I'll see what I can do. She's ARM responsibility. Could she be dead?»

«For all I know. Carlos cut her. I don't know how bad, but I saw blood.»

«Carlos … yeah. Sigmund isn't going to like that. What do I give him for proof?»

«You might find traces of him on the island, but I doubt it, Ander. I think Feather dumped him in the hopper for biomass. The closest you'll get to any remains of Carlos Wu is right here.» He didn't understand. I stretched my arms, flexing my still not quite familiar body. «Not the fish, Ander. Me.»

«Stet. Which island?»

«On another matter,» I said. «Carlos Wu's experimental autodoc is a very valuable item. I propose to sell it to you.»

Ander studied me, mildly amused. His hands wandered into pockets and came out with a silver match and a box of fat green cigars. He said, «Your bargaining position isn't that terrific.»

Was he really going to fire up that thing? Tobacco, it had to be tobacco.

I tore my eyes off his hands. «Cheap,» I assured him. «I can't touch it myself, after all, and you can't afford to lose it. Look at me! That thing rebuilt me from a severed head!»

«Buying up your trash is not exactly in my job description.»

«I'll sell you the location. You collect it and do with it as you will. One hundred thousand stars.»

Ander smiled at the number, conveying that it was too high even to be funny. He said, «They wouldn't let me smoke on the ship. Want one?»

«No,» I said, watching all my problems solve themselves. Well, half my problems. I could run clear off the planet while Ander worked at getting himself out of a cell. But he'd chosen the wrong restaurant, and I didn't believe it, anyway. He'd delayed too long; his body language was wrong.

I said, «Wait up. Don't light that.»

He sat there with the cigar poking out of the center of his grin. «I thought you'd let me do it.»

I said, «I toyed with the notion. If it was just a matter of you going to jail, Ritz, that might improve my leverage. I could make you an offer you couldn't walk away from.»