Outer Bounds: Fortune's Rising (32 page)

Chapter
30

The
Ferryman’s Dilemma

Joel groaned and rolled over, the
tingling, metallic taste of blood overwhelming even the throbbing in his face. 
Blood…or something else.

He winced when he realized his
face had been mashed into a cluster of ruined nodules, the grublike larvae
wriggling against the insides of his cheeks and teeth as their life-fluids
spilled into the slime around them, prodding their way through his lips as they
sought refuge from the air.

Horrified, Joel sat up and gagged,
shoving the larvae from his mouth with his tongue.

Yolk.  That overpowering acrid
taste of metal was raw Yolk.

Disgusted, Joel wiped the
blood-red sludge off of his lips and spat.  His tongue and inside of his mouth
was numb with the taste of Yolk.  He rubbed the top of his tongue against the
roof of his mouth, trying to rid it of the overwhelming metallic burn.  He was
still busy spitting when Magali said, “Wideman was right.”

Joel froze, turning to her.

Magali was slumped in the slime,
her back against the wall, cheeks wet, her eyes red and inflamed.  She was
dressed in clothes that were much too big for her, with a bloody cluster of
burn-holes centered around her belly.  Defeat was clear in her posture.  “I’m a
killer.  All he ever said about me.  ‘Killer.’  He was right.”  She gave a
miserable laugh.  “I’m even wearing his clothes.  Like skinning a starlope.”

Joel turned and saw Martin’s
naked corpse sprawled out in the Shrieker mucus, face-down, blood puddling
around him.

She killed him,
Joel
thought, stunned.  He hadn’t thought she had it in her.  The little sister,
sure, but Magali?  Even after pounding in Gayle Hunter’s temple and kicking
Yvonne in the face and breaking Rachel’s finger, it had never occurred to him
that she could pull the trigger.  Threaten, yes.  Pull the trigger, no.

Not for the first time, he was
absolutely delighted to be proven wrong.  Absolutely delighted…and probably
still breathing because of it.

Then something else occurred to
him. 
Why am I understanding what she’s saying?
  Had Martin jogged
something loose when he rearranged his teeth?  He opened his mouth to ask.

“Not that you understand a
goddamn word I’m saying, you useless smuggler asshole,” Magali said. 

Joel shut his mouth with a frown.

“Not even that psychotic bastard
Milar was just, ‘killer.’  He got
odes
written about him.  He got his
essence put in those goddamn zucchini a thousand times.  He got to see his
future. 
Everybody
in that damn town got more than just one word. 
Everyone but me and Anna.”  Magali paused, giving Joel a wry, pinched smile. 
“But I guess I shouldn’t complain too much.  All Anna got was screaming.  Every
time he saw her, the little old fart would go apeshit.  Eyes would bulge out
and he’d empty his lungs like they were on fire.  You could always tell when
Anna got too close to the little bastard.  The whole village would hear it.”

Joel frowned.  He had heard
whispers of a legendary oracle hidden somewhere north of the Snake.  Geo had
offered twelve mil to anyone who could capture the bastard and bring him back
to the Junkyard.  Was Wideman in Deaddrunk?  It made sense, considering all of
the rumors he had heard of the colonists and their war-games.  He thought they
were just creeps with a death wish.  But maybe they were creeps with a death
wish and an oracle.

Magali laughed.  “You know, when
Wideman first saw me, I was just a baby in my Daddy’s arms.  Wideman pointed at
me and said ‘killer.’  Most of the people there actually thought he’d said
‘Kill her,’ and if my Daddy weren’t so good at punching people in the face,
they’d’ve thrown me down an abandoned mineshaft, quicker than spit.”

Joel nodded, frowning as he
thought about David Landborn’s infamous war games.  The man had scared the crap
out of him, talking about independence from the Coalition.  Just staying in
Deaddrunk had always made Joel uneasy.  The whole town was armed to the teeth,
funded by David’s cultivation of a secret Yolk mine.  The whole lot of them
were dead-set on starting a war. 

David Landborn…her father.

Suddenly, everything snapped into
place for him.  There was a girl, born in Deaddrunk, who was rumored couldn’t
miss.  Anything she shot at, she hit.  Like better than a robot.  The colonists
had kept her name to themselves, not really trusting a smuggler with that kind
of information, because in their eyes, with his background in the Coalition, Joel
was just one step away from being a Nephyr himself, but he was pretty sure he
had heard ‘Deaddrunk’ somewhere along the way. 

Maybe her shooting Martin wasn’t
as much of a long-shot as Joel had imagined.  In that town, anyone with the
last name ‘Landborn’ had given him goosebumps when he’d stood next to them for
too long.   His eyes fell once again to the neat cluster of holes over Magali’s
belly.  It wasn’t the grouping of a terrified egger.  It was the grouping of a
killer.

A cold tingle worked its way down
his spine as he once again met her eyes. 
This
was the ‘Killer?’ 
Magali?

Magali hefted her gun, looking at
it, seemingly in her own thoughts.  “All that old bastard saw was ‘killer’ when
he looked at me.  Not ‘mother’ or ‘sister’ or ‘artist’ or a dozen other things
I want to be.  Just ‘killer.’  I spent every moment of my life waiting to get
out of Deaddrunk.  I hated that place.  All they cared about was war.  My dad
had the whole town doing war games twice a week, and he’d force me to play
along.” 

She took a deep breath, half
shudder, and said, “I’d always make a mistake early and Anna would delight in
killing me.  Anna or Milar.  They liked to work together.  Team from Hell. 
Undefeated.  Once took out our entire village, just the two of them.  Could
read the rest of us like a book, knew what we were gonna do before we did it.” 
Magali sniffled, and tears were once more leaking down her cheeks.  “I didn’t
want to kill anybody,” she whimpered.  “I hated those stupid games.  I let them
find me on purpose so I didn’t have to shoot people.”  She gave a bitter
laugh.  “Even when it was just paint and lasers, I couldn’t shoot people. 
Thought I could change my future by studying art and trying to get pregnant. 
Would’ve succeeded, too, if my bitch of a sister had stayed out of things. 
Patrick was gonna give up the war for me.  We were gonna move across the Snake,
somewhere we could have kids and a normal life.”

Joel nodded with commiseration.

Magali’s dark look returned. 
“Anna was like Dad.  She wanted to start a war.  Was gonna see me fulfill
Wideman’s prophecy whether I wanted to or not.  Did you know my father never
let me ride in a ship while he was alive?  He never let me learn to fly on my
own.  He paid for Patrick and Milar and Jeanne to go through flight school but
he made me stay at home and learn hand-to-hand combat like a good little
soldier, instead.  The first time I ever rode on a ship was when Patrick and I
snuck out of town.  Daddy was so angry…  Grounded me for four months.”  Tears
were streaming down her cheeks, and Joel watched, uncomfortable, as she reached
up and swiped them away with her arm.  “The bastard,” she whimpered.  “I wanted
to be a pilot so badly.  I wanted to go to the stars.  I wanted to get
away
from here.  I think that’s why he wouldn’t let me learn to fly.  He knew I wouldn’t
stay.  He knew I’d join up and ferry Yolk back and forth for the Coalition, if
it would get me off Fortune.”

Get me off Fortune…
  Suddenly,
Joel’s brain snapped into focus.  He drew his hand from the Shrieker slime, and
still clutched in his palm was Martin’s scrap of engine manual with his hasty
map drawn upon it.  From the corner of his eye, he watched Magali sit up to
look at the map. 

“Where did you get that?” she
asked.  “The dead guy?”

Joel gave her a bovine look,
blinking with great effort.  It was much too interesting to let her know he
understood every word.  He would have to consider that very hard in the future,
when it came time to tell her the truth. 
Why waste a possible lifetime of
fun?
  Oh, he was sure he would give up the act sooner or later, but,
considering the interesting things he had already learned, it would be a lot
later than sooner.  He moved his tongue around the inside of his mouth, still
grimacing at the metallic buzz of residual Yolk.

Then he jerked.  Could it be the
Yolk?  Considering the way his throat was burning, he was pretty sure he’d
swallowed some of it.

“Is that a
map?
”  She
straightened further.  She looked interested, yet at the same time tired.  Like
she was asking if he had an extra beer.

Joel nodded again, bemused with
the idea that the unrefined Yolk, rather than Martin’s kick, could be
responsible for jogging his memories loose.  Then he winced, realizing his
mistake.

Magali had gone quiet, watching
him.  Joel didn’t like the look she was giving him.  “You’ve been nodding a
lot.  You’d nod if I asked you if you were the smuggler doing business with Dad
before he disappeared, wouldn’t you, Joel?”

For the first time, Joel realized
that the gun dangled limply from one hand was beginning to tighten in her
grip.  The look she was giving him was much too dark. 

Okay, Joey-baby, fun time’s
over.
  He opened his mouth to blurt out the truth.

Magali interrupted him with a
sigh.  “Of course he didn’t betray Dad.  That bastard was lying to me. 
Smooth-talking me just like Anna.  Hell,
he
was probably the one who
betrayed Dad.  How else would he have known?  Joel probably just got scared
because he knew the guy would just love to wring my neck.”  She got to her
feet, steadying herself in Martin’s oversized boots.  “You were trying to save
me, weren’t you, Joel?”

Joel nodded.

Magali sighed, deeply.  “She
fried your ability to read, too, didn’t she?”

Joel nodded.

In baby-talk, complete with
elaborate gestures that meant nothing to him, Magali said, “What you don’t
understand,
Joel
, is that that little piece of
paper
in your hand
is a
map
, and that
map
is gonna lead us to Martin’s
ship
. 
Can you fly a
ship
, Joel?”  She made little bird wings with her hands.

Can I fly a ship.
  The
snort of disdain was too much to hold back.  He started coughing, holding his
fist over his mouth to hide his amusement.  Then Joel had an unnerving
thought:  Even the refined Yolk wore off.  A few days to a week, depending on
the person, and it was gone.  Joel’s gaze fell to the ruined nodules, then migrated
to the sacks of Yolk Martin had harvested.  That should keep him awhile…

Magali marched over to him and
grabbed him by the jaw, making his entire face flare up in a jolt of fire that
traced through his skull and down his spine.  “A
ship,
goddamn it!” she
snapped.  “Can you fly a
ship?
”  She made like she was piloting a
joystick with one hand.

Joel jerked his head away,
rubbing his jaw. 
What got up her undies?
he thought, glaring.

“Merciful Aanaho,” Magali
whispered, slumping back to the wall and pressing the back of the hand holding
the gun against her head.  “What are you thinking, Mag?  He’s was dumb as a
board even when he could understand you.  Danced to Anna’s tune like a pitiful
goddamn puppet.”

Puppet?
  Joel narrowed his
eyes, but waited.

“Get up,” Magali finally said,
standing.  “We’re gonna go find that ship and you’re gonna fly me outta here.”

Joel waited for her to gesture
for him to rise before he stood.  Though it was against his instincts, he let
her snatch the scrap of paper from his grip.  He studied her as she peered at
the smudged lines and tried to make sense of it, trying not to allow his
resentment to show. 
So I’m a puppet, eh?
  After everything he had done
for her, after
everything
he’d been through, she thought he was just a
stupid puppet.

“Follow,” Magali eventually
ordered, making a ‘come’ gesture.

Joel felt the resentment all the
way down to his toes.  It took a force of willpower to keep up the act and
follow her through the cavern. 

A puppet,
he thought again
as he bored holes into her back. 
Does that mean they knew what they were
getting me into?  All that time, they knew they were sending me to get outed as
Runaway?

These tunnels, like all
un-altered Shrieker tunnels, were narrow and low.  Magali, being tall for a
girl, had to hunch over in order to move forward.  Joel, being taller than most
men, really had to scrunch down not to scrape his head and back against the
ceiling.  After a few more minutes half-squatting, half-crawling in the maze of
Shrieker tunnels, he began to frown at the odd howl he heard ahead.  The
Shrieker mucus, he realized, was beginning to thin under his bare feet.  It had
disappeared entirely when the tunnel suddenly opened up and sunlight hit him in
a startling blast.  Joel stood up and stared at the massive cavern that loomed
before him.

Beyond the cave, the wind whipped
by with such force that it howled against the rock.

Martin’s point of entrance was a
huge cave set into the sheer, four-thousand-foot cliff overlooking the acidic
green waters of the Snake.  Martin’s ship—
his
ship, Joel realized, his
heart giving an extra thud—was sitting like a gigantic ebony raven overlooking
the titanic crevasse.  He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.  He
walked up and touched a polished black leg, enraptured by its very presence. 
Within its titanium core, he could feel his own freedom pounding at his
essence.  He felt a stupid grin slide onto his face.