"We're going to hook these cargo skyhooks onto our suits, then push ourselves away from the airlock," she said. "We'll just slide over on the cable. They do it all the time during ship-to-ship transfers of cargo. Just be sure not to push off too hard, and not to thrash around. You could start spinning, and that would be dangerous. Remember your laws of inertia."
"Uh, yeah," Rob said dubiously, venturing to the edge of the airlock and looking "down" into the void, then glancing at the slender cable overhead.
"That wire doesn't look strong enough. It's just a thread."
"It's strong enough, Rob," Mahree said, with eroding patience. "There's no gravity, remember? It doesn't have to support your weight, it's just going to control the path of your jump. Just take it slow. You'll keep drifting at whatever speed you start out with. Watch."
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Moving cautiously in the zero gravity, Mahree picked up the bundle of breathing paks, clipped a skyhook to them, then fastened the other end over the cable. She gave the awkward bundle a push, careful to apply equal strength to both sides.
The bundle moved away, sailing across the intervening space in a slow-motion glide. Despite Mahree's caution, it began to spin, but it reached its destination without mishap. The spacesuited Simiu grabbed the bundle and detached it.
Mahree turned to Rob, motioning with the gun. "Your turn."
He gulped audibly. "Mahree ... I don't know if I can ..."
She glared at him through the faceplate. "Then clip your skyhook to one of these handrails so you won't float out when I stun you! I'm going, with you or without you!"
Rob sucked in a deep breath, then he clipped his skyhook to the cable, and launched himself into space.
Mahree realized immediately that he'd pushed off entirely too hard. He began spinning helplessly, and then he began to struggle, which made it worse. Gasps of fear mingled with curses emanated from the radio. "Rob!"
she cried. "Stop thrashing! You might pull loose!"
As she watched helplessly, his spinning form reached the Simiu airlock. If it hadn't been for the quick reaction of the alien in the lock, he might have crashed into the edge with bone- breaking force.
"Rob!" Mahree called anxiously. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," he answered, after a moment, gulping. "Trying not to be sick."
Quickly, Mahree tossed the gun back into the airlock, then she clipped her own skyhook. Grasping the handles of both bags in her right hand, she steadied herself on the edge of the airlock, legs bent. Trying for one smooth motion, she straightened her knees and pushed off.
She was free of
Desiree . . .
floating along effortlessly toward the Simiu figure that stood waiting for her. Mahree swallowed as she stared out at the stars, realizing for the first time that there was virtually
nothing
between her and them--only the material of her spacesuit, and a tiny layer of air.
She nearly panicked as the "everywhere is down" sensation filled her mind again. Resolutely, she squeezed her eyes shut, until she felt hands grabbing her, halting her. Her magnetized soles clung, then she was in the airlock of the Simiu ship, safe.
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Dhurrrkk' detached her skyhook, and she grabbed for the nearest handhold, watching as her alien friend released the cargo cable, pushing it away from his ship. Then he closed the airlock. Gravity returned a moment later.
After triggering the air and pressure controls, the Simiu opened his helmet, and she heard his voice, faintly: "This is Honored HealerGable, is it not?
Why is he here?"
Mahree took off her own helmet and nodded. "Yes. He found me leaving, so I had to bring him with me. But I believe that he will make no trouble, now that he has been convinced of the importance of our mission."
Rob had also removed his helmet, and was staring at her, his eyes wide.
"You're ... you're
talking
to him!" he sputtered. "You can speak their language!"
"After a fashion," she said. "My accent is terrible."
Rob turned to the Simiu. "Honored Dhurrrkk'," he said, in English, "I am very
grateful to you for saving me. I consider it
an honor to be allowed to accompany you on such a noble and vital mission."
"Honored Healer Gable," Dhurrrkk' said, aloud, formally, also in English,
"your presence honors this vessel." Mahree could not tell whether or not the Simiu was being ironic. "FriendMahree, I must get us away from here," he continued, in his own language. "Any moment now they will miss this ship and start after us."
Mahree nodded, and the Simiu left.
She stood up and began pulling off her spacesuit, grateful that she had fresh air to breathe again, even if it was hot and sticky. Moments later, the Simiu ship began vibrating nearly imperceptibly. They were underway.
Rob took off his suit, then sat down on the deck with a sigh. "To think that you actually
speak
Simiu. Is that how you found out about these other races?"
"Partly," Mahree said. "It's a long story."
He patted the deck next to him. "At the moment, honey, time is all we have.
Start at the beginning."
Taking a deep breath of the humid air, Mahree launched into the entire story.
When she finished, her mouth was dry. Rob was staring at her with a strange expression; it seemed to be composed of equal parts of exasperation and awe. Slowly, he shook his head. "No
152
wonder you were in such a panic to reach these Mizari. But you might have trusted me enough to come to me and explain. I'd have helped you willingly, then."
"I was afraid you wouldn't believe me, after I heard you saying we should rip
Desiree
loose. Everyone in that meeting sounded so ... so hostile."
"How long will the trip take?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "Dhurrrkk' said he was going to program us for a roundabout course, so we wouldn't run any chance of being intercepted before we can make Stellar Velocity. Several weeks each way, I suppose."
Rob wiped his sweaty forehead with his hand, pushing back his damp, matted hair. "Several weeks?" He sighed. "In this heat? Well, at least I'll get a chance to try and learn the language. How did you--"
He broke off at a noise from the entrance way, and they both turned to find Dhurrrkk' there. The Simiu was wearing his computer link and voder, and both humans hurriedly dug through their bags for theirs.
"We are underway," the alien said. "I believe I have set a course that makes it look as though we are heading for one of our colony worlds."
"How long before we go S.V.?" Mahree asked.
"Several more hours," Dhurrrkk' answered. "But 1 believe our escape had not been detected at the time we left, so they will have difficulty tracing us."
"How did you manage to get the ship?" Mahree asked.
Dhurrrkk's crest flattened, and his violet eyes dropped. "I told an untruth," he admitted. "A very reprehensible action on my part. Most dishonorable ..."
"What did you tell them?"
"I said that Rhrrrkkeet' had instructed me to move this vessel to the other side of the station, so it would be ready to transport her down to the next Council meeting."
Rob gave Mahree a skeptical glance. She nodded. "This society isn't nearly as suspicious as ours," she explained, aloud. "The Simiu assume you're telling the truth until it's proved that you're lying. Falsehood is very rare."
"They managed to lie to us effectively enough," Rob muttered grimly.
"But, Honored HealerGable, it was early decided that equivocation 153
would be allowed in our dealings with you, because you were outsiders, and therefore not to be trusted until you proved yourselves to be beings capable of honor," Dhurrrkk' said. Mahree thought that she detected embarrassment in his manner. "Such a decision was not very honorable, I admit, but my people soothed their consciences with the knowledge that, if you humans proved to be worthy-of-honor, the truth would then be revealed to you."
"After all," Mahree pointed out, "we were only risking ourselves. They were risking seven entire worlds, if we proved to be the vanguard of an invasionary force."
"I understand," Rob said thoughtfully.
Dhurrrkk' busied himself hanging up their spacesuits, then picked up the two bags. "Let me show you my vessel," he invited.
"Does it have a name?" Rob asked.
Mahree shook her head. "They don't name things the way we do. It just has a code."
Rob glanced around him as they followed the alien into the corridor. "We ought to give it a name, then," he mused. "Something appropriate to the occasion ..."
"Be my guest," Mahree said, smiling, as they ducked beneath an arching overhead stanchion.
Rob was silent as they followed Dhurrrkk' along the brightly colored passageway. Finally he snapped his fingers. "Got it!"
"What?" Absorbed in her first glimpses into the hydroponics area (where dark emerald, olive green, and aqua vegetation grew lushly), she'd lost the thread of their conversation.
"The name. How about
Rosinante!"
"What?"
"Not what, who. Rosinante was Don Quixote's dauntless steed, who carried him when he rode off on his crazy quests," Rob said, smiling. "Quests nearly as crazy as this one, it seems to me. They included tilting at windmills in lieu of giants."
Mahree laughed.
Dhurrrkk' led them on a complete tour of the small ship, from bow to stern.
Mahree was fascinated by the control cabin, and the alien promised to teach her how to interface her linkup with the main computer so she could trade watches with him--although she'd have to take them sitting on the floor.
Simiu "seats" were all wrong for human body contours.
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Rosinante
was lavishly outfitted, but very small--it possessed only two sleeping cabins and a small dormitory off the tiny cargo area. Dhurrrkk' led them up to the entrance to one of the cabins, then activated the portal with a flourish.
Obviously pleased with himself, he waved the humans inside. Mahree and Rob stepped into a small cubicle with fright orange and blue walls, and a scarlet heap of bedding/lounging cushions in its middle. It contained little else, only a few storage cabinets and shelves. "Do you notice the difference?" Dhurrrkk' asked. Both humans clearly sensed his anticipation.
Mahree glanced around, biting her lip, wondering what could possibly be different. But Rob, in his long-sleeved ship's coveralls, was quick to realize.
"It's cooler in here!"
Dhurrrkk' nodded enthusiastically. "I have instructed the life- support system to maintain your quarters in this manner. Is it to your liking? Do you find it comfortable?"
"Our
quarters?" Mahree repeated blankly. "But we can't--"
She broke off when Rob gave her a meaningful nudge with his elbow. The doctor nodded vigorously. "That is very thoughtful and kind of you, Honored Dhurrrkk'!" he said. "This cabin will be very comfortable indeed."
"Yes, it will," Mahree agreed, trying to sound enthusiastic. It
was
thoughtful of Dhurrrkk' to remember that the environment they were used to was at least ten degrees cooler than his own. The room was considerably less humid, also. She tried not to stare at the single mound of bedding. "Thank you very much."
Her Simiu friend appeared touchingly pleased. "I am glad that you like it." He turned back to the door. "Remember to keep the portal closed, so the cooler atmosphere will not be dissipated. Right now, I must check our course. Rest now, honored friends. You have had a wearying time of it this day."
He dimmed the overhead lights, then the Simiu was gone, the portal sliding shut behind him. Mahree turned to Rob. "Thanks for saving me from blurting out something churlish," she said.
Rob grinned cheerfully as he stuck his hand out. "Hiya, roomie. Won't this be fun? Just like camping out!"
She returned his smile feebly, as she shook the offered hand. "Yeah.
Camping out."
"Don't look so dismayed," he said. "I only snore when I'm drunk, or so I've been told. I won't keep you awake."
"Right now not even a gun at my head could keep me
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awake," Mahree said, yawning. "We can divide up those comforters into two piles . . . there are plenty of them."
Her yawn was contagious, and Mahree giggled as Rob also yawned
suddenly, widely. "I don't know," he said, casting her a sardonic glance as they began wrestling with the pile of bedding, each dragging half of it to opposite corners of the little cabin, "having a gun pointed at you gives a helluva adrenaline rush." He sat down and unsealed his shoes. "Sure woke
me
up."
Miserably self-conscious, Mahree pulled off her own shoes and lay down.
"G'night ..." she mumbled, feeling exhaustion engulf her like a warm wave.
"Good night ..." he murmured, then, after a moment, she heard his voice again. "Hey, kiddo ... would you
really
have shot me?"
Mahree rolled over and lay staring up at the low, inward- slanting ceiling of the little cabin. She did not speak for a long time, but, finally, she replied,
"Yes. I'd have felt terrible for doing it, but I would have."
"I figured," he said gently. "Go to sleep, kiddo."
Mahree listened to his soft, regular breathing as he fell asleep, and thought that she might cry, but sleep took her before any tears could fall.
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Nothing ever happens in space.
Where have I heard that complaint before? Well, it's truer than ever.
We've been underway for over a week, and I've already read all my books, viewed all my holo-vids, and watched all the films Rob brought--twice. It's amazing how many hours there are in each day to fill up. (It doesn't help that the Simiu "day" is longer than ours. The time is still the same, but, psychologically, the hours
seem
longer.)
Dhurrrkk' and Rob and I spend
hours
each day talking, and still there are times I end up staring at the four inward- slanting walls. Wish I'd thought to toss in my textbook cassettes. Right now, I'd love to peruse the history of the Martian Colonies.