The Life of the World to Come (38 page)

Read The Life of the World to Come Online

Authors: Kage Baker

Tags: #Adult, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Fantasy, #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat, #Travel

BOOK: The Life of the World to Come
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Frantically Alec sought to enter cyberspace to see why the Captain wasn’t responding, but as he did so there was a rending crash, a blue-white flame within his eyes, and he gasped and clutched at his temples.
There was nobody there with him. He was alone, for the first time since he cared to remember. If he probed he could perceive the database he’d accumulated over the years, distant and difficult of access. Trembling, he leaned forward, tried to make some sense of the lights on the shuttle console. He gave what he thought might be the command to lift off.
Smoothly the shuttle rose, and kept rising. Alec saw the lights of the compound dropping below him. He gave more commands, attempting to turn the shuttle and take it out to where the
Captain Morgan
rode at anchor in the night.
No, he’d done something wrong. The console gave a peremptory electronic grunt and ignored him, and cryptic red letters flashed in front of his eyes as a recorded voice cried: “ERROR! ENTER PILOT CODE!”
“Pilot code?” Alec bit his lower lip. He sorted in desperation through the database as the shuttle continued its rise, high enough now to show him the distant lights of Los Angeles. At last he found something that seemed right, and entered it.
The shuttle made an awful noise and lurched forward, then
began to spiral wildly, out of control. Alec heard warning Klaxons, and the red letters flashed again as the voice shouted at him: “ERROR! ERROR! DEFAULT COORDINATES!”
The chemical smell intensified. Turning his head, Alec could see the cabin beginning to fill with yellow smoke. Not smoke.
Stasis gas
. The shuttle was preparing to return to its last destination, was about to take him through time.
“Oh God, oh God—” He sought for the information he needed, but without the Captain it was like thumbing through a thirty-volume encyclopedia in a burning house. The gas filled his lungs and blinded him. There was a moment of sensual pleasure to which his body responded with moronic readiness, and then a wave of nausea as a brilliant light cut through the yellow fog and an impact seemed to flatten him in his seat like a crushed insect.
Alec might have lost consciousness for a second. He was next aware of watching the gas boil away as some vent activated, and he was staring down in bemusement at the blue sky. Above it, like a cloud mass, spread a brown horizon and blue water.
But that was wrong, wasn’t it?
With a cry of terror, he struggled again to get the controls to obey him. Earth and sky exchanged places, flipped again, righted themselves. The shuttle screamed through a long descending turn and straightened out a few bare meters above the surface of the water, barreling toward land and steadily losing altitude. A winged fish smacked into the window, its goggle-eyed astonishment mirroring his own before it was torn away by the slipstream. He attempted to cut the shuttle’s power and found that it seemed to be obeying him. The forward thrust lessened perceptibly. Unfortunately, he was still headed straight for the island.
Alec spotted a bay between two projecting headlands, and beyond it a green flood plain coming down to the water’s edge, at the mouth of a wide canyon running back into the depths of the interior. He steered for it and the shuttle obeyed him. If he could just run out of momentum before he ran out of canyon—
He began hitting green stuff, tall grass, sugar cane or something. It got all over the window and made it hard to
steer around the low foothills that rose to right and left, blocking his way. Somehow Alec managed, though, snaking the shuttle through the long slalom, and a distant corner of his mind noted with satisfaction that he was beginning to learn to pilot the craft. The same detached observer noted that there was blood dripping from his chin.
The shuttle began to slew sideways, cutting a swath though the green field as it came. The ground rose to meet it with a sickening impact, and Alec was thrown forward painfully in his seat restraints. He was no longer moving in any direction, through space or time. The relief was so intense he blacked out.
Someone was trying to get his attention.
He blinked, focusing his eyes. Where had all this blood come from? He straightened up in his seat and peered incredulously out the window. The shuttle had come to rest tilted forward on its nose in the field, and there was a strong smell of crushed vegetation coming through the open air vents. Heat, too; a bright subtropical sun was beating down on the shuttle. His vision was blurred, doubling; his sense of smell was more acute than usual. How much ganja had he smoked? Why would he have been smoking ganja on a job?
The girl who stood looking in through the window waited patiently as he sorted all this out. Their eyes met. She slipped a marker into the pocket of her coveralls and held up her right hand, on the palm of which she had written for him to see:
DO YOU SPEAK CINEMA STANDARD?
What did the words mean? He could recognize a couple of them.
She made a trumpet of her hands and leaned close to the window, shouting: “You appear to require medical assistance! Do you need help getting out of there?”
Who on earth was she? After a moment of gaping at her he unfastened his safety restraints and ordered the shuttle hatch to open. It popped up, filling the cabin with fresh air, unbelievably sweet after the stasis gas. Drawing in a deep breath, he stood up and pitched forward, falling to his hands and knees.
He must have blacked out again for a second because she was abruptly there beside him, without appearing to have come around the front of the shuttle, and he was outside. She got her arms around him and hoisted him up. Alec stood beside her in the midst of her ruined field, clinging to her lest he topple over. What a strong young lady she was! He looked down at her and saw that his blood was smeared on her face and in her hair. He muttered an apology, but she just smiled at him. In fact … was she turned on by him? Was that what that fragrance on her skin was, arousal?
They walked away, Alec leaning on her as they threaded through the green rows. It was funny-looking sugar cane they were walking through. It was covered all over with things like big green ganja-joints, each one bearing a tassel at its end. If he’d been smoking this stuff, no wonder he was hallucinating. He wondered if he was hallucinating the girl. She looked just like his mermaid figurehead, except that she had clothes on. And legs instead of a curled fishtail. And her fire-colored hair was braided back severely, a long braid that came clear down to her behind. He considered her breasts thoughtfully, looking down as they staggered along.
“Here now, sweetheart.” She led him up on a porch and settled him down on a bench. “You rest here a moment.” Her scent trailed away as she left him.
He looked around, and his fog cleared a little. The bench was made of big hand-hewn planks. He must be somewhere in the past. He wondered when. He didn’t know enough about history to pinpoint his location, but he had a vague idea that houses and furniture hadn’t looked like this since well before the Space Age. She’d been speaking with just the faintest unidentifiable accent, too, a steely precision that suggested … what? This must be some time before the twentieth century. On the other hand, she’d shown not the slightest surprise or dismay at the sight of the time shuttle. She smelled very young. And she wanted to sleep with him?
Who was she?
He found himself waiting for the Captain to tell him, and gulped in dismay when he remembered that the Captain was missing in action. There was a roaring in his ears, a crowding at the edges of his vision; suddenly she was there again, holding
his head up with both her hands on his face, looking into his eyes.
“ … You don’t want to go away again, you’re going to be fine. Stay with me, now. Listen to the sound of my voice. I’m going to give you something to make the bleeding stop, okay?”
“’Kay,” he said thickly.
“Good boy. This’ll sting, I’m afraid. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?”
“Alec,” he said. She put a coagulator wand to his nose and fired. It stung, all right. The reek of ozone was pungent, painful. The girl held a wad of wet cloth under his nostrils, tilting his head back.
“Alec! Really? As in Alec Guinness?”
“Alec Checkerfield,” he said indistinctly, looking at her over the cloth.
“Alec Checkerfield! Well. And you’re an Englishman, obviously. Can you tell me what year it is, Alec?”
“Er—well—it was 2351 when I left—” he said. She caught her breath. He gulped and blundered on. “Only I guess I’m somewhere else now.”
She nodded slowly. “I guess you are. Did something go wrong with your shuttle?”
Okay, she wasn’t a denizen of a past time. That meant—
“You work for Dr. Zeus,” he said, noticing at last the corporate logo on the breast pocket of her coveralls. There was another emblem beside it, a clock face without hands.
She considered him for a long moment, an unreadable expression in her eyes. “Actually,” she said, “I’m a prisoner here.”
That sank in and he calmed down. “Oh,” he said, as she moved the cloth to see if the bleeding had stopped—it hadn’t quite—and zapped him again with the wand. “Ow. You mean you’re from the same time as me? And, and this is a prison colony or something? I thought I’d traveled back into the past.”
“You did,” she said. “But this isn’t a colony. I’m alone here, as a matter of fact. You’re lucky you landed where you did, practically in my front yard. There’s no other living soul on this island. Won’t be for another hundred thousand years.”
There was something weirdly familiar in the soothing tone
of her voice, in the deftness of her hands, with never a wasted movement. He found himself thinking of Sarah, though this girl was white-pale and austerely caucasian of feature. He’d have taken her for a Celt, if not for her eyes and her voice.
“So—so this is the past, like, prehistoric times or something?” he said, struggling to keep his grip on consciousness.
“More or less,” she said, checking the bleeding again. She gave him one last jolt with the wand. “There now. Let’s see how that works. You’re not a Dr. Zeus shuttle pilot then, I take it.”
“No,” he admitted. “Dr. Zeus has wrecked my life, just like it’s wrecked yours. I’m going to get the bastards.”
“Are you now,” she said noncommittally. “Well, Alec Checkerfield, that’s a great idea, but you need to recover first. You came back through time without taking a very necessary drug beforehand, did you know that? What I’d like you to do, now, is stand up very slowly and come inside to lie down. Okay? Lean on me, now.”
It was cool and dark inside her house, if rather spartan, and there seemed to be just the one room. He let her settle him on the log-frame bed. Great; he liked a girl who got down to business. She brought a basin and a towel and cleaned him up, before she washed her own face. He kept fading in and out of reality. Had he asked her to sleep with him yet? Was he in any condition to? She certainly needed it, she was like a wild kitten rubbing her head into his hand, purring like mad … always oblige a lady, Ape Man.
“How long have you been stuck here?” Alec said, struggling to think coherently.
“I’ve been at this station for years,” she said. “More years than I remember.”
He reached up and clasped her hand, grasped at the idea to keep from drifting away. “You mean they marooned you here when you were just a kid? Bloody hell, what’d you do? It must have been something your parents did.”
“Not exactly,” she said, studying his hand. “But I also knew too much about something I shouldn’t have. Dr. Zeus found a nicely humane oubliette and dropped me out of sight or sound.”
What’s oubliette mean?
Alec asked the Captain automatically,
and felt cold when no answer came. He gulped and tried to fix his attention on the girl as she said: “You’re the first mortal soul I’ve spoken with in all this time.”
“My God,” he said. “Well, listen—er—what’s your name, babe?”
After a moment’s pause she said, “Mendoza.”
So she was Spanish? “Okay, Mendoza. I’ll get you out of here. That time shuttle out there is
mine
now, babe, and when I’ve finished this other thing I’ll come back for you.” He squeezed her hand for emphasis.
Yes, he had impressed her, he could tell. Her face had gone pale again, the color had just fled, and her eyes were worried. He didn’t want to worry her, though. Just impress her. Make her happy. Could he do that? Yes, if she’d lie down beside him. Nice little girl, she meant no harm. He argued earnestly. Suddenly there was an island of clarity and he realized he’d just offered to marry her.
The moment it was out of his mouth he was horrified at what he’d just said, and he didn’t know what to make of the expression on her face. He blurted:
“And then afterward we could just get a divorce.”
She was staring. He tried to reconstruct what he’d been saying. Had he insulted her? She didn’t smell angry. Just as though she needed someone terribly.
He must have asked her to sleep with him, because she leaned down and kissed him, very gently but full on the mouth, parting his lips. He liked that a great deal. He liked the scent and the taste of her, he liked the weight of her breasts, and he wanted very much to untwine that long braid and get his fingers in her hair. About all he was actually able to do in his present condition was open his mouth and grope a bit, and for one wonderful moment he thought his skull was going to explode.

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