James Alan Gardner [League Of Peoples 05] Ascending

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paused. "Provided they are such creatures as possess noses. If we leap from
concealment and do not see nose-like facial features, we shall have to
improvise."
"Sounds good to me, missy," Uclod said. "Of course, if the Shaddilldo have
noses, they'll probably pass out the second they get a whiff of this place."
"Watch your tongue!" Bell snapped.
Sergeant Aarhus cleared his throat. All this time, he had been sitting on the
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carpet, no doubt gathering strength after being unconscious. Now he rose and
told Festina, "I hate to admit it, Admiral, but Oar's plan sounds as good as
we'll get. We sure can't stay in the studio here it's got see-through walls
and nowhere to hide. We'll be sitting ducks."
"I know." Festina made a face. "All right an ambush in the receiving bay.
Everyone ready to fight?"
Uclod, Lajoolie, Aarhus, and I all chorused yes. Nimbus floated delicately
forward. "I won't be much use in a scuffle... and I have to protect my
daughter."
"Understandable," Festina said. She glanced at me; I still held the little
Zarett girl in one hand, and gooey though the infant was, I did not mind the
feel of her so much. She was very most delicately soft, a small light person
who seemed so fragile and breakable that Deep Adult Instincts made me want to
take care of her. To be honest, I wanted to snuggle her a little while
longer... but time was short, and I could not throw punches with a child in my
fist.
"Here she is," I said, cupping her in both hands and holding her out to her
father. Nimbus swirled forward, and for a moment, I felt his cool dryness
playing around my fingers. It might have been a nudge of forgiveness; one
cannot tell with fog, but I do believe it was more than just the bare minimum
of contact required to take the girl. Then he was gone, and baby Starbiter was
gone too, wrapped in a thick ball of mist.
"All right," Festina said, "now what about you, Lady Bell? Are you up for
some fisticuffs?"
"I've heard," Aarhus put in, "that Cashlings are excellent fighters.
Stunningly powerful kicks."
He said this so unctuously, even na�ve baby Starbiter must have recognized
his words as purposeful flattery. Lady Bell, however, was not so perceptive;
she loosened slightly from her wrapped-up form, with orifices fluttering all
over her green skin. It looked like the Cashling form of simpering. "I can
handle myself quite well," she answered in a creamily smug tone of voice. "If
it's absolutely necessary..."
"It is," Festina said. "Now let's get down to the airlock. And once we're
outside the studio, no talking. The engines make enough background noise to
cover our footsteps, but let's not get sloppy."
"Sloppy!" Lady Bell said, continuing to unfold back to her more person-like
configuration. "I amnever sloppy."
Sergeant Aarhus opened the door and the odor outside assailed my nostrils. I
believe we all wished to take exception to Lady Bell's last statement; but it
was too late for cutting remarks.
Silently, we headed for the receiving bay.
22: WHEREIN I BATTLE THE ENEMY WITH PRECIOUS METALS
Waiting
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When I say we headed out silently, I mean as silently as possible. Though I
am excellent at stealth in natural settings, it is most unreasonable to expect
hard glass feet not to clack on solid tiles. The noise was enough to make me
self-conscious; I also believe Lady Bell was glaring at me, though her lack of
a face made it difficult to be certain. I mouthed the words,I am doing my
best, then spent the rest of the journey staring down at my feet... which was
just as well, considering the quantity of vile substances I had to
circumnavigate on the floor.
Once we reached the receiving bay, we chose separate hiding places close to
the airlock door. I took a strategic position between a chest-high crate
stacked with platinum ingots, and a container made of blue sheet-metal whose
interior was littered with fish skeletons. At one time, the container must
have been filled with sea water the metal was crusted with salt deposits and
the dried remains of lacy seaweed but the water had evaporated and the fish
had died of dehydration... or suffocation... or starvation... or sheer lack of
hope. I found myself staring at their withered carcasses and feeling most
teary-eyed over their undeserved fate; so I forced myself to turn away and
grabbed a chunk of platinum from the other box, promising the ghosts of those
fish I would hurl the heavy ingot with great strength at someone who truly
deserved it.
I settled down in my place, squeezing the cool platinum while I waited for
Shaddill to arrive. It was too bad the hull was no longer transparent I would
have liked to observe the process of being sucked into the bowels of the
stick-ship. But such was not to be. I could only crouch in Nervous
Anticipation, trying to guess what was going on outside and doing a poor job
of it. In my head I would say,Ten seconds from now, I shall hear something;
but then I did not hear something, so I thought,Another five seconds and
someone will come; but the five seconds passed without incident, whereupon I
started counting to see how long itdid take for something to occur, but I lost
patience when I reached fifteen, so I crossed all my fingers and even my
thumbs toforce the Shaddill to do something, and I squeezed my eyes shut
andeverything... then I counted some more, then stared at my reflection in the
platinum ingot to see how I looked when I was Fraught With Expectation, but
there were too many smudges from my fingers on the metal, and I was just
cleaning the ingot on my jacket sleeve whenUnfettered Destiny struck something
with a thud.
Hah!I thought to myself,this is it! And despite the terrible wait, I did not
let my brain become Tired And Distracted at all.
The Enemy Arrives
Events did not transpire immediately. After the bump (which I assumed was our
ship settling onto a landing pad), there was a tedious delay of at least ten
seconds before I heard noises in the airlock. Then the airlock took an
unconscionably long time to perform its function, so that I just knew the
awful Shaddill were playing foolish games punching the control buttons for
their entertainment rather than Getting Down To Business. At last, when I was
so keyed with frustration I was ready to dash over and rip open the airlock
with my bare hands, the door gave a resounding click and swung ponderously
inward.
An object was tossed into the room: a dull silver orb the size of my fist,
sailing in a lazy arc upward, then down toward the floor. The object had
WEAPON written all over it... not literally (as far as I could see) but I knew
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something unpleasant would happen when it struck the ground. I squinched
quickly behind the crate of ingots, putting all that heavy platinum between me [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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