An unusually short chapter, but I hope you'll all agree that what it lacks in length it makes up for in drama.
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O&C Chapter 33.
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About three weeks later, I had moved out of Degg’s and got myself a job. I didn’t exactly plan to make a career at the spaceport’s information desk, but it was a start. The pay was enough to cover the rent on a tiny flat of my own on Ystin island, and by working overtime I found I could afford to buy food and pay bills as well. I hoped that a little experience with off-world visitors might qualify me for something more highly paid later on, perhaps in the tourist trade. My uncle had offered me a position in the foreign office, but I had regretfully declined. The pay was better and I liked the idea of getting into the diplomatic business, but I wanted to do this without any strings being pulled for me. Uncle En smiled proudly when I told him so.
My departure from Degg’s hadn’t been as smooth as I would have liked. Grett had taken my leaving as some kind of personal attack - she took it to mean that I thought myself too good for them- and the ensuing fireworks had sucked in Degg, Faust and Loorl, resulting in massive argument that left a bad atmosphere hanging over the entire household, and was still present when I went back to collect my belongings a few days later. Loorl had already moved into my room by then, and had accumulated almost an entire tentacle-full of pagan tattoos. He said he was learning tattoo artistry for himself, and hoped to make enough money doing it to stay in Primavera indefinitely. I knew he’d manage it just as I had, surviving on what little money he could earn here and there and scrounging cash from the others when things got tight. I wished him luck, and he seemed to accept it in good faith.
After three weeks I hadn’t managed to find the time or money to go back across the city and visit the others to patch things up, much as I would have loved to. Life was a little dull without them, and I didn’t know anyone in this area at all. My colleagues were friendly, but not much fun and the work was interesting enough to keep me going through the day. The routine was easy to adjust to, and after just three weeks I felt as though I had been living this way for years. Degg’s place seemed light years away, and my adventures in Outlier and aboard the Marilyn felt like another lifetime. I was somewhat shocked, then, when this quiet new lifestyle to which I had become so acclimatised was disrupted by a ghost from the past.
My station in the spaceport was near the arrivals entryway, and I found myself staring at a familiar face. It took some time to place it, but eventually I recognised Yenn, the only crew member other than Captain Frasier to survive the destruction of the Marilyn. She was walking seriously and purposefully toward the taxi dock, and I was suddenly struck with indecision. Should I abandon my post to speak to her, or would it be better to let her go about her business? Before I could make my mind up, she was gone, her close-cropped head lost in the crowd. Immediately I regretted not having spoken to her, so when Captain Frasier walked past a moment later I vaulted my desk, leaving a colleague to deal with the queue of tourists alone, and ran after my old acquaintance.
He was still limping along on the prosthetic legs he had been fitted with aboard the Worthwhile Endeavour, and I realised he and Yenn must just be returning from their salvage trip. I caught up with him easily, and not really knowing how best to initiate conversation, simply stood in front of him.
“Why, Mister Cane.” He said, understandably surprised.
Until that moment it hadn’t occurred to me that he might not welcome my presence. After all, I had lied to him about the nature of my journey when I came aboard his craft, and- although I could in no rational way be held responsible- had been tangled up in the whole affair that had led to the destruction of his ship and horrific murder of his crew. He had been civil enough to me aboard the Endeavour, but that might have been politeness, or perhaps his opinion of me had altered in the time he had spent surveying the nightmare-ridden wreck that had once been his home, livelihood and investment.
“Captain Frasier,” I said, somewhat at a loss for anything else. “How are you?” I silently cursed the question for its stupidity as soon as I had uttered it, but he didn’t bother to answer. Instead he grabbed my wrist and looked around furtively. Content that no-one was listening in, he pulled my arm until my ear was close to his mouth and said,
“We must arrange to meet later. My insurance assessor and the salvage crew are all around here somewhere, and I can’t let any of them know about any of this. You must meet me, it’s vitally important.”
“Why?” I asked, somewhat bemused. He fixed me with an intense stare that was grim determination and abject terror all at once.
“It’s her.” At first I thought he meant Yenn, but after a half a second the meaning sank in. “She’s alive, and now she’s here.”
He slipped a contact card in my top pocket and left me staring dumbly into the crowds, eyes wet, guts clenching uncontrollably and fists slowly tightening until my fingernails drew blood from my palms.
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What do you mean you haven't read the rest? Go read it now!
http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction
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