Flyover Planet Ch. 14-2: Eat Your Fair Heart Out

Chapters One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen Pt. 1, Fifteen, Sixteen.
(Non-SF Flyover Valley starts here.)

"Best for all if the cargo stays locked up, Captain," Two-Bit repeated patiently.

"They are locked up. Did it myself," Raglan strapped on his guns and the pulser. He was meeting with Fatso Moonface in an hour or so. The Fair Heart was sitting pretty, the geck at the helm holding her steady. They would have a babble with Fatso at that nice little bar businessmen like Raglan and Moonface patronized, a dark little joint in the heart of the small dinky port. They would catch up in a gentlemanly sort of way, chew the fat, and then Raglan would give Fatso a little hint or two and see where that led. Moonface was the best-connected slaver and body trafficker Raglan knew. Best not to tell him too much right away, for the cargo was dangerous, more dangerous than anything Raglan had handled before, and he wanted to shift it as fast as possible. But what those kids were worth... Raglan was going to get his price too, no worries about that.

There would be four men with him, including Two-Bit, in spite of his injured hand. Raglan had served under Moonface, had gone into a few big jobs with him, like the robbing of that freighter and the bank run on Buda; so he knew that Moonface could not be trusted an inch. There was no way the captain of The Fair Heart was going to go into any room Fatso was in without having as many eyes and guns with him as he could get. And four were all he had. Backer was still locked up below, still hoping to get out probably, though the only way he would be leaving is through the airlock without a suit; then the geck, who was useless except for flying the ship; and Doc with his trusty bottle, feet on the operating table in the sickroom, watching Green Bean tidy up the place.

"Leaving your girl with Doc, that's practically letting her run loose," Two-Bit insisted.

"She is not cargo," Raglan said in a chilly tone. He'd wanted to lock her up in her own cabin but she said she might as well do something useful while he was away. He would not let her loose in his own cabin, not yet; but the sickroom could do with some work. "You cut that ex-cop waste-heat you keep spouting and think on your job instead. Your job, since you seem to need a reminder, is making sure Fatso does not have us killed before we give him a tasty tidbit to think over."

His comm went off.

"The shuttle is here, Captain," the geck's tinny voice said in his ear. "It has docked."

Raglan jerked his head at the door of his cabin.

"You heard."

Two-Bit shrugged but he went. Raglan shook his head as he locked the door behind him, out of pure habit.

Raglan checked that the engine room was locked still, ignoring Backer's banging on the door from the inside (that gob of garbage knew they weren't moving no more by the engines. Musta really thought he'd be let out alive and breathing, thought Raglan with a mirthless smile.)

He then checked that the cargo were locked in and stopped by Doc's. His (Raglan was already in the habit of thinking of her as his) Green Bean was putting meds on the sparkling metal shelves, Doc spinning some tale or other with a benign look on his puffy face.

"Be good, Green Been," Raglan told her. She looked at him with those eyes, saying nothing. He stroked the smooth skin of her cheek with one finger. Hell, maybe it did not matter so much that she was itty and skinny, with a face like that, that strange mind behind the green eyes. Her hair was changing color, now mostly green, with only a few purple strands and pink left. Doc said she might be back to some normal coloring in a few weeks' time. Doc also said he couldn't be sure what would really happen but Raglan ignored that. He was the best at knowing what would happen, that's why he was the captain. He wanted the girl, and she was his, and that was that.

"Moving you into my cabin when I get back, Green," he said, surprising himself. Doc, behind the girl, raised his eyebrows. But Green Bean was true to herself.

"Only after I have gotten it deep-cleaned," she said calmly.

"You are a card, sheilie!" Raglan gave a barking laugh, pinching her chin. "Gonna bring you back something pretty too." Hell, why not. There were some ritzy-glitzy shops on Buda. Raglan could pick out something after he cut a deal with Moonface.

He had forbidden her from speaking to or about the cargo, and she did not try now. That was about the one thing he had told her that his sheilie did not challenge.

"Will you be safe?" she asked instead, surprising him.

"As safe as anyone can be, Green Bean. But don't you worry; me and Fatso, we go back some. He is one twisty bastard but he likes money more than blood." He ran his finger down her cheekbone again.

"Lay off the sauce till I get back, Doc, and stick to the regs. Got your pulser here? Good. I'm putting up a field around The Fair Heart, and the geck is on the job, but I want you sober. And keep an eye on this one," he slid his fingers down the girl's smooth slim neck. The comm beeped impatiently.

"Up and at 'em. Cheer up, Green. I'll be back before you know it," Raglan told his child bride with a grin. He was still grinning when he got into the shuttle and the door sealed itself with a smooth hiss. Two-Bit looked dour; the others were asleep. Raglan leaned back in his seat, half-closing his eyes, his mind full of pleasant visions, as the hired shuttle carried him away from The Fair Heart.

"Looks good," Doc said casually, as the girl stepped back and looked around his little office. The sickroom sure looked cleaner than it had in a long time. There was that about having a sheilie around. He was damned if he could tell what Raglan saw in her or why he would want a slip of a girl in his bunk as he surely did, but that didn't concern Doc none. Doc had gone hard a long time ago — you had to, if you ended up in the body trade. He never thought about the past that propelled him here; habit had dulled his senses and the bottle did the rest. But like all hard men he had an occasional sentimental moment.

"How about I give you a few tips for when the Captain comes back, eh?" he said magnanimously. The girl bit her lip.

"When will he be back, sir?" that was another thing about her that he liked, that she said "sir." No one ever said that anymore, not to him.

"Three hours at least, more like five," Doc said. Raglan had told him it had to be a slow sell, with this kind of cargo. "Mayhap they will come back with Moonface himself; mayhap —" The bottle was empty. The girl moved to his drinks cupboard but he stopped her regretfully:

"No more sauce for me, li'l sheilie. Cap'n's orders, till he gets back, you heard him."

"Why not, sir?"

"Well, it ain't but me and the geck on the ship, so that means I am in charge. Gotta be on the move, just in case," Doc considered getting up, glancing at the floor. The sheilie went to the door.

"How about some coffee then, sir? I could bring it right here, it's no trouble."

"No wandering the ship, Greenie, remember?"

She smiled prettily.

"It's not wandering if I go to the galley and back, is it, sir? I will be back before you know it."

Doc got to his feet, swayed a little but caught himself. Strong coffee sure seemed like a good idea. He glanced at the stimulators, all neatly arranged in a clear box now.

"First, the coffee," Raglan's gal said firmly. "It won't taste right if you take anything with it. Mine won't," she added.

"You're an awful lot of helpful there, sheilie," Doc said, giving her a glance. She looked up at him with those eyes wide open.

"I'm bored," she said with a sigh. "And you are kind to me, Doctor. Least I can make you some good coffee like my momma used to make."

"All right," Doc said, "but no wandering off, or I will take you right back."

By rights, he should have gone off alone and left the sheilie locked in. But Doc was feeling like company and the gal wasn't going anywhere.

She skipped to the galley before him. He called but she was already rattling pots and spoons.

"Won't be a minute, sir," she said, busy over the mug. "Sugar?" and the small heavy mug was in front of him, the delicious smell wafting up.

"Smells kinda different from the usual," Doc sniffed. She smiled happily, the first sign of genuine joy he had seen in her.

"That's right, doctor! Told you it's a special recipe of mine. Finest coffee you will ever have," she added seriously, and Doc laughed.

"You got sauce," he said, and took a good sip. It weren't bad. A little sweet, maybe, but good and strong. Bit of an aftertaste there... He took another sip, chasing the familiar impression. Something he knew, but it was very faint, and it was, he drank again, it was something... Something that didn't go with coffee in his mind. He frowned in an effort to concentrate as the girl refilled his cup.

"Whaaaahh..."

What's that taste, Doc tried again to say. The hand with the cup seemed very far away all of a sudden, as if it belonged to someone else. He watched the bony fingers unfold, the cup rolling over and falling to the floor in a black puddle. It was a funny kinda sha—

It might have made Two-Bit happy that after months of his nagging Raglan on the subject of the cargo room lock — "A child could open this, Captain!" — a child actually did.

Forseti was ready, had barely slept. Too many things could go wrong. What if that Raglan character decided to take one of them off-ship? What if— he kept stopping himself, soothing the others, going over the plan again and again in his mind. Guns, half-geck though she seemed to be at times and all geck at other times, gave him regular updates that she got from the ship's geck and XieXie's pad via a process Forseti did not completely understand. Now Guns said in that new fluting voice of hers:

"XieXie is here, Seti," and a moment later the heavy lock started rattling. Forseti and Cheers sprang forward, pushed at the door to help.

XieXie stood at the threshold, a little out of breath though her skin was still the same color as usual.

"Both the doctor and the geck are out. I taped their ankles and wrists together like you said," and she suddenly hugged Forseti really hard; he hugged her back.

"Are you all right?" he asked searchingly. There was a whiff of ethanol from her face and neck.

"Yes," XieXie said shortly and rubbed her neck, wrinkling her nose unconsciously. "Just... had to clean some dirt off real quick. Here," she handed a pulser to Forseti. "And I know for sure there are guns in some of the men's cabins."

Forseti nodded. He did not want to use real guns inside the ship; the bullets would not harm it of course, the metal was too tough, but they could ricochet and wound one of them.

"One last problem before we go then," Forseti said, and turned to his crew.

"You all know your places," he said, and Cheers, of all people, saluted:

"Aye-aye, Captain!"

Backer was suffering from the combined pains of hunger and resentment. There had been no dinner the night before, nor breakfast, and yelling and banging on the door brought him nothing. Whether they had forgotten about him or decided to starve him he did not know. He would take them with him though. Backer was smart, smarter than they knew, oh yes he was...

Backer had not known that Doc was dosing him with soothers in his rations that came twice a day through a tiny chute in the bowels of the engine room; but he did know that things were looking clearer all of a sudden and that he had burning desire to hurt somebody. The Captain himself, that would be nice, get that stuck-up Raggy. Or that little broad he had tried to have a bit of fun with. After all it weren't like the cargo was going to proper slavers; a bit of roughing up would do them no harm, right? And make no mistake, that scrap-hole who called himself captain was really due for beating, treating an old hand like that for a little slap and tickle —

Lost in a welter of self-pity and dreams of revenge, Backer did not hear the girl till she was no more than a dozen yards away. There was a scarf over her hair and she was wearing some kind of dress, but it was her all right, he could tell from the curves. She was obviously confused, looking around uncertainly, with her back to him, so she did not see him in his corner at the end of the hallway. But Backer saw her just fine, and he did not ask himself how she got there. He started grinning slowly. It wasn’t like he was getting paid for all that extra hard work, was he? Old Rags would probably say that he weren't getting nothing after scragging that kid, though that were an accident. And if he, Backer, were to sneak into an escape pod with the girly bit of goods he himself would sell her and give a little tip-off about The Fair Heart where it would hurt Raggy most, eh? And the ride would be a bit sweeter with that sweetie along.

Backer weighed close on to three hundred pounds, but he knew how to carry himself making no noise at all. He moved quickly, hugging the wall, covering those few yards before the girl turned to see him. His hand over her mouth, his other hand grabbing both her wrists behind her back, feeling her sweet hopeless struggle—

That’s what Backer saw in his mind’s eye seconds before he pounced. And exactly one second before he jumped her, the girl took off like a hare without looking backward.

She crashed to the floor and rolled away as he made a grab for her and overbalanced, righting himself almost immediately. She was on her feet, running, feet pounding down the hall, never looking back.

“Oh you don’t want to do that, you cheap broad,” Backer snarled. He came for her, faster than she, dark rage drawing a veil over his vision. Maybe he wouldn’t even take her with him. Just leave her here after he got done with her, for that ass Raglan and his two-bit piddly baung—

Backer never saw the tripwire. He hit the floor all at once, smashing his nose into the unyielding metal.

Backer rose to his knees, pain and fury driving him upward, snarling like a mad dog. He saw her turning around, back to the door, raising her joined hands. There was something wrong about her face, about —

It was a boy's face, vaguely familiar; it was pale and the eyes burned with anger; there was a pulser in the boy's hands, and the stance told Backer that the kid knew how to use it. Backer rose, roaring, as the kid said in a hard voice:

"For Linder," and pressed the trigger.

The escape hatch was open. Two pods were locked in, sleek and shiny on their black shelves. The third had been lowered and popped open. The geck had been heavier than the doctor though he looked smaller. It had taken XieXie, Fenny, Rotor and the two twins, Martin and Marta, a few minutes to get the two unconscious bodies off the gurneys and into the pod.

"Pretty cramped," Martin said. "Doesn't look like there is space for a third, especially a big bag of turds like that guy." He kept glancing toward the corridor that led to the engine room. He had wanted to go along with Forseti and Cheers but Forseti refused.

There was a shout, then feet pounding along the metal gangways. Cheers and Forseti, the latter without the sheet they had wrapped around him or the ridiculous packs of bandages stuffed under it to imitate Fenny's curves. XieXie let out a breath she'd been holding for the longest quarter of an hour of her life.

"What happened?" she asked in a voice that wanted to tremble but didn't.

"Won't need to stuff a third in there after all," said Cheers. He looked a little pale and there was a sour smell about him, as if he'd just vomited. "Captain Seti fixed him."

They stared at him, little Rotor with his eyes shining, a mixture of awe and fear on all the faces, except for XieXie whom he could not read.

"I got lucky," Forseti said. He meant it. That kind of thing always looked much easier in the vids. Backer's speed had terrified him; more than ever he was glad that he had gone in himself, though Martin and Cheers had volunteered.

"Get the pod out and go to the bridge, all of you," Forseti touched the comm panel on the wall.

"Guns? Are you ready to fly the ship?"

(You had to be very literal with Guns these days if you wanted to be understood.)

"Oh yes Seti, it's very easy," Guns voice replied. "Do you want me to go right now?"

“No, wait for me!"

He turned to the others:

"Cheers, you are with me. Everyone else, on the bridge!"

The escape pod hatch closed. As the kids ran for the bridge, led by XieXie, a light over the hatch flashed on and winked out. Doc and the geck were on their way to parts unknown.

Cheers actually had thrown up when he saw what had become of Backer's face, hit with a full blast of the pulser.

"Not much like the vids," Forseti said. He was pale too and there were large drops of sweat on his waxy skin but at least he was holding it together. "Come on. We gotta get him out of here before the girls — before the others see." The gurney collapsed to the floor with a gentle hiss of its metal struts folding. They slid it under Backer's corpse. The gurney's sturdy metal legs unfolded again. It wobbled under the weight but held. Forseti had covered the face with the rag he had used to hide his hair. He wondered fleetingly when Fenny's hair had been left long and natural by the Eds, as it had always been, and XieXie's — he pushed the thought out of his mind. He and Cheers steadied the self-moving gurney down the ramp and toward the garbage chute cover. Cheers looked like he was going to throw up again and Forseti knew just how he felt.

"A little more, boyo," he said, and Cheers gave a pale grin. They slid the hole open and got their shoulders under the far end of the gurney, raising it. For a moment it was too heavy to lift. Cheers yelled:

"You beaitch! You piece of jinko, you—"

Backer's body slid into the garbage chute head-first, thudding into something below. The chute cover closed and locked in place, a light above it glowing yellow. Forseti and Cheers glanced at each other.

"Do the honors, Captain," Cheers said, nodding at the panel.

Forseti pressed the big button, standing on tiptoe to do it. There was a whooshing sound — air going into the recycler — some clanging, and then nothing. The light went out. The chute was empty.

"Garbage out," Forseti said.

As a send-off, it was exactly what Backer deserved.

Guns's voice came from above, making them both jump.

"Captain Seti, incoming communication! We are being hailed!"

"What the—" said Cheers, turning around but Forseti was already running hard for the bridge.