Ascending - James Alan Gardner [113]
But of course, aliens never listen to me—the big poop-heads.
The Purpose Of The Twig
“Holy shit,” Aarhus whispered, staring up at the twig. “We got tagged, didn’t we?”
“Apparently so,” Nimbus agreed. “The Shaddill must have shot that at Hemlock like a torpedo.”
“What do you think it is?” Aarhus asked. “Maybe a homing beacon?”
“Probably. When Starbiter hit the Shaddill ship, she obviously disabled them somehow—maybe took out their engines. The Shaddill saw us get picked up by Hemlock and knew they couldn’t follow until they’d made repairs…so they harpooned your ship with a signal device that would let them track us.”
“Are you sure it is just a signal?” I asked. “Could it not be a tube full of shapeshifting warrior-droids programmed to replace us one by one?”
“Let’s stay with the signal theory,” Aarhus said. “But if we’re lucky, the Shaddill won’t get their ship repaired till everyone’s evacuated and halfway to Jalmut. I like picturing the bastards coming to capture Hemlock, only to find it’s nothing but a big empty paperweight.”
Behind us, the airlock made thudding sounds. Aarhus had closed the door once we entered the receiving bay; now the hatch opened again, revealing Uclod, Lajoolie, Lady Bell and Lord Rye, plus my friend Festina, who must have finished making arrangements with Captain Kapoor.
Festina’s nose wrinkled as the stench of Unfettered Destiny struck her, but she quickly assumed a straight face. Uclod, on the other hand, doubled over and began making hiss-whistle sounds, clutching at his stomach. A moment later, he disgorged his last dinner with a great resounding splash. Lajoolie placed her hand on his back and bent as if to say, “There, there”…but then, she too began to hiss-whistle, her whole body shaking.
When a woman that large gets the shakes, it is a titanic vibration indeed. I believe I could feel the ship trembling in response. This impressed me so much, I barely had the presence of mind to leap backward; I am fortunate to be an excellent leaper, because Lajoolie’s subsequent spew splattered widely in all directions.
“Divians,” Aarhus muttered, looking down at his dampened boots. “Meticulously bioengineered into thirty-five different sub-breeds, and they all have weak stomachs.”
“You pigs!” cried Lady Bell to our friends. “You’re making a mess of my floor!”
We all stared at her for a moment; then even Uclod and Lajoolie started to laugh.
Supreme Impatience
Lady Bell was not such a one as to tolerate laughter. Muttering angry whoosh-whoosh sounds, she tapped a button on her spacesuit’s stomach, making the suit slump off like wilting blades of grass. Underneath, her entire body was identical to the suit, frost green with violet spottles. She paused for a moment with the clothes in a heap around her ankles…and I had the impression she was striking a pose, hoping someone would say admiring things about her unclad person or at least gawk with envy. When none of us did, the lady petulantly kicked the suit loose from her feet and stomped toward an electronic console set into the wall. Using many orifices at once, she began making gushy noises; these must have been instructions in the Cashling tongue because seconds later, the airlock closed and the ship gave a tremendous shudder.
“Finally!” she exclaimed in English. “If everyone’s wasted enough time, may we please start recording the broadcast?”
Nobody answered. The Divians were still doubled over, and Festina was staring through the roof at Royal Hemlock. I could tell the moment she caught sight of the twig-thing clinging to the hull; her jaw grew tight under the purplish skin of her cheek. She turned to Lady Bell and asked, “Does your ship have long-range scanners?”
“Of course.”
“Can you call up a readout?”
“When we get to the broadcast studio,” Lady Bell snapped. “Let’s go!”
Without waiting for a reply, she strode toward a door at the far end of the room. Her elongated limbs let her cover the ground most rapidly indeed—we could not have kept up with her, even if we ran. As it turned out, none