Friday

XXXII

It was two hours past midnight, ship's time. Breakout into normal space had taken place on time, about eleven in the morning, and the figures had been so good that the Forward was expected to achieve stationary orbit around Botany Bay at oh-seven-forty-two, several hours better than had been estimated before breakout. I was not pleased because an early morning landing-boat departure increased the hazard (I judged) that people might be prowling around the corridors in the still hours of the night.

No choice. It was rushing at me, no second chance. I finished last-minute adjustments, kissed Tilly good-bye, cautioned her with a finger to make no noise, and let myself out the door of cabin BB.

I had to go far aft and down three decks. Twice I slowed down to

avoid night watchmen making their rounds. Once I ducked through

a transverse passage to avoid a passenger, continued aft to the next

passageway across the ship, then went back to starboard. Eventually

I reached the short, dead-end corridor that led to the passenger airlock door for the starboard landing boat.

I found Mac-Pete-Percival waiting there.

I moved quickly to him, smiling, put a finger to my lips for silence, and clipped him under the ear.

I eased him to the deck, pulled him out of my way, and got to work on that combination lockÄ

Äand discovered that it was almost impossible to read the marks

on the dial, even with my enhanced night-sight. There was nothing but night-lights in the corridors and this short dead end had none of its own. Twice I muffed the combination.

I stopped and thought about it. Go back to cabin BB for a torchlight? I had none there, but perhaps Tilly had one. If she did not, should I wait until morning lights were turned on? That would be cutting it too fine; people would be stirring. But did I have a choice?

I checked PeteÄstill out but his heart was strong... and lucky for you, Pete; had I been fully triggered, you would be dead. I searched him.

I found, with no surprise, a pencil light on himÄhis job (tailing me) could need a torchlight, whereas Miss Rich Bitch does not bother with such things.

A few seconds later I had the door open.

I dragged Pete through, closed and locked the door, spinning the wheel both clockwise and counterclockwise. I turned back, noted that Pete's eyelids moved a touchÄclipped him again.

There followed a bloody awkward chore. Pete masses about eighty-five kilos, not gross for a man. But it's twenty-five kilos more than I do and he's much bigger. I knew from Tom that the engineers were holding the artificial gravity at 0.97 gee to match Botany Bay. At that moment I could have wished for free fall or antigrav gear as I could not leave Pete behind, dead or alive.

I managed to get him up into that cross-shoulder carry that some call fireman's carry, then discovered that the best way for me to see ahead and still have a hand free for dogs on airtight doors and such was to hold Pete's pencil light in my mouth like a cigar. I really needed that lightÄbut, given a choice, I would have felt my way through in the dark, sans unconscious body.

With only one false turn I arrived at last in that biggest cargo hold which seemed even bigger with only a pencil beam to cut

through the total darkness. I had not anticipated total darkness; I had visualized the landing boat as faintly illuminated with nightlights as was the ship proper from midnight to oh-six hundred.

At last I reached the hidey-hole I had picked out the day before:

that giant Westinghouse turbogenerator.

I guessed that this big mass was intended to run on gas of some

sort, or possibly steamÄit certainly was not meant for Shipstones. There is a lot of obsolete engineering that is still useful in the colonies but is no longer used anywhere that Shipstones are readily available. None of it is familiar to me but I was not concerned with how this thing worked; my interest lay in the fact that half of it was somewhat like a frustrum of a giant cone laid on its sideÄand this formed a space in the middle under the narrow end of the frustrum, a space over a meter high. Big enough for a body. Mine. Even for two, luckily, since I had this unwelcome guest whom I could neither kill nor leave behind.

That space was made downright cozy by the fact that the cargo men had placed a fitted glass tarpaulin over this monster before tying it down. I had to wiggle in, between tiedowns, then I had to strain like the very devil to drag Pete in after me. I made it. Minus some skin.

I checked him again, then peeled him. With any luck I would get a little sleepÄimpossible had I left one of my guards loose behind me.

Pete was wearing trousers, belt, shirt, shorts, socks, sneakers, and a sweater. I took everything off, then tied his wrists behind him with his shirt, tied his ankles with his trouser legs, fastened his ankles to his wrists with his belt behind his backÄthis is one hell of an awkward position, taught to me in basic as a way to discourage attempts to escape.

Then I started to gag him, using his shorts and sweater. He said quietly, "No need to do that, Miss Friday. I've been awake quite a while. Let's talk."

I paused. "I thought you were awake. But I was willing to go along with the pretense as long as you were. I assumed that you would realize that, if you gave me any trouble, I would tear off your gonads and stuff them down your throat."

"I figured something of the sort. But I didn't expect you to be quite that drastic."

"Why not? I've run into your gonads before. Not favorably. They are mine to tear off if I wish. Any argument?"

"Miss Friday, will you let me talk?"

"Sure, why not? But one peep out of you louder than a whisper and these toys come off." I made sure he knew what I meant.

"Uh! Easy thereÄplease! The purser put us on double watch to-

night. IÄ"

"Double watch? How?"

"Ordinarily TillyÄShizukoÄÄis the only one on duty from the time you go to your cabin until you get up. When you do get up, she punches a button and that tells me to set the watch. But the purserÄor maybe the CaptainÄis itchy about you. Worries that you might try to jump ship at Botany BayÄ"

I made my eyes round. "Goodness gracious! How can anyone have such wicked thoughts about little ole me?"

"I can't imagine," he answered solemnly. "But why are we here in this landing boat?"

"I'm getting ready to go sight-seeing. How about you?"

"Me, too. I hope. Miss Friday, I realized that, if you were going to try to jump ship at Botany Bay, the most likely time would be tonight during the midwatch. I didn't know how you expected to get into the landing boat but I had confidence in youÄand I see that my confidence is justified."

"Thank you. Some, anyhow. Who's watching the portside boat? Or is there someone?"

"Graham. Little sandy bloke. Perhaps you've noticed him?"

"Too often."

"I picked this side because you toured this boat with Mr. Udell yesterday. Day before yesterday, depending on how you figure it."

"I don't care how you figure it. Pete, what happens when you are missed?"

"I may not be missed. Joe StupidÄsorry, Joseph SteubenÄthe other is just my private name for himÄI have instructed to relieve me after he eats breakfast. If I know Joe, he'll make no fuss at not finding me at the door; he will just sit down on the deck with his back to the door and sleep until someone comes along and unlocks it. Then he'll stay there until this boat drops away... whereupon he will go to his room and sack in until I look for him. Joe is steady but not bright. Which I figured on."

"Pete, it sounds as if you had planned this."

"I didn't plan to get a sore neck and a headache out of it. If you had waited long enough to let me speak, you wouldn't have had to carry me."

"Pete, if you're trying to sweet-talk me into untying you, you are barking down the wrong well."

"Don't you mean `up the wrong tree'?"

"The wrong one, in any case, and you aren't improving your chances by criticizing my figures of speech. You're in deep trouble, Pete. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you and leave you here. For the Captain is right; I'm jumping ship. I can't be bothered with you."

"Well... one reason is that they'll find my body later this morning, while they are unloading. Then they'll be looking for you."

"I'll be many kilometers the other side of the horizon. But why would they look for me? I'm not going to leave my fingerprints on you. Just some purple bruises around your neck."

"Motive and opportunity. Botany Bay is a pretty law-abiding community, Miss Friday. You can probably talk your way out of trouble in jumping ship thereÄothers have. But if you are wanted for a murder aboard ship, the local people will cooperate."

"I'll plead self-defense. A known rapist. Fer Gossake, Pete, what am I going to do with you? You're an embarrassment. You know I won't kill you; I can't kill in cold blood. It has to be forced on me. But if I keep you tied upÄ Let me seeÄfive and three is eight, then add at least two hours before they work back to here in unloadingÄ that's ten hours at leastÄand I'll have to gag youÄand it's getting coldÄ"

"You bet it's getting cold! Could you sort of drape my sweater around me?"

"All right, but I'll have to use it later when I gag you."

"And besides being cold, my hands and feet are going to sleep. Miss Friday, if you leave me tied up this way for ten hours, I'll have gangrene in both hands and both feetÄand lose them. No regeneration out here. By the time I'm back where they can do it, I'll be a permanent basket case. Kinder to kill me."

"Damn it, you're trying to work on my sympathy!"

"I'm not sure you have any."

"Look," I told him, "if I untie you and let you put your clothes back on so that you won't freeze, will you let me tie you up and gag you later without fussing about it? Or must I clip you a good deal

harder than I did and knock you out cold? Run a risk of breaking your neck? I can, you know. You've seen me fightÄ"

"I didn't see it; I just saw the results. Heard about ft."

"Same thing. Then you know. And you must know why I can do such things. `My mother was a test tubeÄ'

" `Äand my father was a knife,' "he interrupted. "Miss Friday, I didn't have to let you clip me. You're fast... but I'm just as fast and my arms are longer. I knew that you were enhanced but you did not know that I am. So I would have had the edge."

I was sitting in lotus, facing him, when he made this astounding statement. I felt dizzy and wondered if I was going to throw up again. "Pete," I said, almost pleadingly, "you wouldn't lie to me?"

"I've had to lie all my life," he answered, "and so have you. HoweverÄ" He paused and twisted his wrists; his bonds broke. Do you know the breaking strength of a twisted sleeve of a good shirt? It is more than that of a manila line of equal thicknessÄtry it.

"I don't mind ruining the shirt," he said conversationally. "The sweater will cover. But I would rather not ruin my trousers; I expect to have to appear in public in them before I can get more. You can reach the knots more easily than I can; will you untie them, Miss Friday?"

"Stop calling me Miss Friday, Pete; we're APs together." I started working on the knots. "Why didn't you tell me a long time ago?"

"I should have. Other things got in the way."

"There! Oh, your feet are cold! Let me rub them. Get the circulation back."

We got some sleep, or I did. Pete was shaking my shoulder and saying quietly, "Better wake up. We must be about to ground. Some lights have come on."

A dim twilight trickled in, under, around, and through the tarpaulin covering the dinosaur we had slept under. I yawned at it. "I'm cold."

"Complaints. You had the inside of the snuggle. That's warmer than the outside. I'm frozen."

"Just what you deserve. Rapist. You're too skinny; you don't make much of a blanket. Pete, we've got to put some fat on you.

Which reminds me that we didn't have breakfast. And the thought of foodÄ I think I'm about to throw up."

"UhÄ Slide past me and sort o' heave it back into that corner. Not here where we would have to lie in it. And keep as quiet as you can; there may be someone in here by now."

"Brute. Unfeeling brute. Just for that I won't throw up."

On the whole I felt fairly good. I had taken one of the little blue pills just before leaving cabin BB, and it seemed to be holding. I had a butterfly or two in my tummy but they weren't very muscular butterfliesÄnot the sort that shout "Lemme outa here!" I had with me the rest of the supply Dr. Jerry had given me. "Pete, what are the plans?"

"You're asking me? You planned this jailbreak, not me."

"Yes, but you are a big, strong, masculine man who snores. I assumed that you would take charge and have it all planned out while I napped. Am I mistaken?"

"WellÄ Friday, what are your plans? The plans you made when you didn't expect to have me along."

"It wasn't much of a plan. After we ground they are going to have to open a door, either a people door or a big cargo door; I don't care which, `cause when they do, I go out of here like a frightened cat, running roughshod over anything or anybody in my way... and I don't stop until I'm a long way from the ship. I don't want to hurt anybody but I hope nobody tries too hard to stop me... for I won't be stopped."

"That's a good plan."

"You think so? It's not really a plan at all. Just a determination. A door opens, I crush out."

"It's a good plan because it doesn't have any fancies to go wrong. And you have one big advantage. They don't dare hurt you."

"I wish I could be sure of that."

"If you are hurt, it will be by accident, and the man who does it will be strung up by his thumbs. At least. After hearing the rest of your story I now know why the instructions to me were so emphatic. Friday, they don't want you dead-or-alive; they want you in perfect health. They'll let you escape before they will hurt you."

"Then it's going to be easy."

"Don't be too sure of it. Wildcat that you are, it has already been proved that enough men can grab you and hold you; we both know that. If they know you are goneÄand I think they do~ this boat was over an hour late in leaving orbitÄ"

"Oh!" I glanced at my finger. "Yes, we should have grounded by now. Pete, they are searching for me!"

"I think so. But there was no point in waking you until the lights came on. By now they have had about four hours to make certain that you are not on the deck above with the first-class excursionists. They will have mustered the migrants as well. So, if you are hereÄ and not simply hiding out in the ship properÄyou have to be in this cargo hold. That's an oversimplification as there are all sorts of ways to play hide-and-seek in a space as big as this boat. But they'll watch the two bottlenecks, the cargo door on this level and the passenger door on the level above. Friday, if they use enough peopleÄand they willÄand if those jimmylegs are equipped with nets and sticky ropes and tanglefootÄand they will beÄthey will catch you without hurting you as you come out of this boat."

"Oh." I thought about it. "Pete... if it comes to that, there will be some dead and wounded first. I may wind up dead myselfÄbut they'll pay a high price for my carcass. Thanks for alerting me."

"They may not do it quite that way. They may make it very obvious that the doors are being watched in order to cause you to hang back. So they get the migrants outÄI suppose you know that they go out the cargo door?"

"I didn't."

"They do. Get them out and checked offÄthen close the big door and shoot this place full of sleepy gas. Or tear gas and force you to come out wiping your eyes and tossing your cookies."

"Brrr! Pete, are they really equipped in the ship with those gases? I wondered."

"Those and worse. Look, the skipper of this ship operates many light-years from law and order and he has only a handful of people he can depend on in a crunch. In fourth class this ship carries, almost every trip, a gang of desperate criminals. Of course he is equipped to gas every compartment, selectively. But, Friday, you won't be here when they use the gas."

"Huh? Keep talking."

"The migrants walk down the center aisle of this hold. Almost three hundred of them this trip; they'll be packed into their compartment tighter than is safe. So many of them this trip that I am assuming that they can't possibly all know each other in the short time they've had to get acquainted. We'll use that. Plus a very, very old method, Friday; the one Ulysses used on Polyphemus. .

Pete and I were hanging back in an almost dark corner formed by the high end of the generator and a something in a big crate. The light changed, and we heard a murmur of many voices. "They're coming," Pete whispered. "Remember, your best bet is someone who has too much to carry. There'll be plenty of those. Our clothes are okayÄwe don't look first class. But we must have something to carry. Migrants are always loaded down; I got the straight word on that."

"I'm going to try to carry some woman's baby," I told him.

"Perfect, if you can swing it. Hush, here they come."

They were indeed loaded downÄbecause of what seems to me a rather chinchy company policy: A migrant can take on his ticket anything he can stuff into those broom closets they call staterooms in third classÄas long as he can carry it off the ship unassisted; that's the company's definition of "hand luggage." But anything he has to have placed in the hold he pays freight charges on. I know that the company has to show a profitÄbut I don't have to like this policy. However, today we were going to try to turn it to our advantage.

As they passed us most of them never glanced our way and the rest seemed uninterested. They looked tired and preoccupied and I suppose they were, both. There were lots of babies and most of them were crying. The first couple of dozen in the column were strung out with those in front hurrying. Then the line moved more slowlyÄmore babies, more luggageÄand clumped together. It was coming time to pretend to be a "sheep."

Then suddenly, in that medley of human odors, of sweat and dirt and worry and fear and musk and soiled diapers, one odor cut through as crystal clear as the theme of the Golden Cockerel in Rimsky-Korsakov's Hymn to the Sun or a Wagnerian leitmotif in the Ring CycleÄand I yelped:

"Janet!"

A heavyset woman on the other side of the queue turned and looked at me, and dropped two suitcases and grabbed fne. "Marjie!" And a man in a beard was saying, "I told you she was in the ship! I told you!" And Ian said accusingly, "You're dead!" and I pulled my mouth away from Janet's long enough to say, "No, I'm not. Junior Piloting Officer Pamela Heresford sends you her warmest regards."

Janet said, "That slitch!" Ian said, "Now, Jan" and Betty looked at me carefully and said, "It is she. Hello, luv! Good on you! My word!" and Georges was being incoherent in French around the edges while trying gently to take me away from Janet.

Of course we had fouled up the progress of the queue. Other people, burdened down and some of them complaining, pushed past us, through us, around us. I said, "Let's get moving again. We can talk later." I glanced back at the spot where Pete and I had lurked; he was gone. So I quit worrying about him; Pete is smart.

Janet wasn't really heavyset, not corpulentÄshe was simply several months gone. I tried to take one of her suitcases; she wouldn't let me. "Better with two; they balance."

So I wound up carrying a cat's travel cageÄMama Cat. And a large brown-paper parcel Ian had carried under one arm. "Janet, what did you do with the kittens?"

"They," Freddie answered for her, "have, through my influence, gained excellent positions with fine prospects for advancement as rodent-control engineers on a large sheep station in Queensland. And now, Helen, pray tell me how it chances that you, who, only yesterday it seems, were seen on the right hand of the lord and master of a great superliner, today find yourself consorting with the peasantry in the bowels of this bucket?"

"Later, Freddie. After we're through here."

He glanced toward the door. "Ah, yes! Later, with a friendly libation and many a tale. Meanwhile we have yet to pass Cerberus."

Two watchdogs, both armed, were at the door, one on each side.

I started saying mantras in my mind while chattering double-talk

inanities with Freddie. Both masters-at-arms looked at me, both

seemed to find my appearance unexceptionable. Possibly a dirty

face and scraggly hair acquired in the night helped, for, up to then,

I had never once been seen outside cabin BB unless Shizuko had

labored mightily to prepare me to fetch top prices on the auction block.

We got outside the door, down a short ramp, and were queued up at a table set just outside. At it sat two clerks with papers. One called out, "Frances, Frederick J.! Come forward!"

"Here!" answered Federico and stepped around me to go to the table. A voice behind me called out, "There she is!"Äand I sat Mama Cat down quite abruptly and headed for the skyline.

I was vaguely aware of much excitement behind me but paid no attention to it. I simply wanted to get out of range of any stun gun or sticky-rope launcher or tear-gas mortar as fast as possible. I could not outrace a radar gun or even a slug rifleÄbut those were no worry if Pete was right. I just kept placing one in front of the other. There was a village off to my right and some trees dead ahead. For the time being the trees seemed a better bet; I kept going.

A glance back showed that most of the pack had been left behindÄnot surprising; I can do a thousand meters in two minutes flat. But two seemed to be keeping up and possibly closing the gap. So I checked my rush, intending to bang their heads together or whatever was needed.

"Keep going!" Pete rasped. "We're supposed to be trying to catch you.

I kept going. The other runner was Shizuko. My friend Tilly.

Once I was well inside the trees and out of sight of the landing boat I stopped to throw up. They caught up with me; Tilly held my head and then wiped my mouthÄtried to kiss me. I turned my face away. "Don't, I must taste dreadful. Did you come out of the ship like that?" She was dressed in a leotard that made her look taller, more slender, more western, and much more female than I was used to in my quondam "maid."

"No. A formal kimono with obi. They're back there somewhere. Can't run in them."~

Pete said irritably, "Stop the chatter. We got to get out of here." He grabbed my hair, kissed me. "Who cares what you taste like? Get moving!"

So we did, staying in the woods and getting farther from the landing boat. But it quickly became clear that Tilly had a sprained ankle and was becoming more crippled each step. Pete grumbled again.

"When you broke for it, Tilly was only halfway down the gangway from the first-class deck. So she jumped and made abad landing. Til, you're clumsy."

"It's these damn Nip shoes; they give no support. Pete, take the kid and get moving; the busies won't do anything to me."

"Like hell," Pete said bitterly. "We three are in it together all the way. Right, MissÄ Right, Friday?"

"Hell, yes! `One for all, all for one!' Take her right side, Pete; I'll take this side."

We did pretty well as a five-legged race, not making fast time but nevertheless putting more bush between us and pursuit. Somewhat later Pete wanted to take her piggyback. I stopped us. "Let's listen."

No sound of pursuit. Nothing but the strange sounds of a strange forest. Birdcalls? I wasn't sure. The place was a curious mix of friendly and outr‚Ägrass that wasn't quite grass, trees that seemed to be left over from another geological epoch, chlorophyll that was heavily streaked with redÄor was this autumn? How cold would it be tonight? It didn't seem smart to go looking for people for the next three days, in view of the ship's schedule. We could last that long without food or waterÄbut suppose it froze?

"All right," I said. "Piggyback. But we take turns."

"Friday! You can't carry me."

"I carried Pete last night. Tell her, Pete. You think I can't handle a little Japanese doll like you?"

"Japanese doll, my sore feet. I'm as American as you are."

"More so, probably. Because I'm not very. Tell you later. Climb aboard."

I carried her about fifty meters, then Pete carried her about two hundred, and so on, that being Pete's notion of fifty-fifty. After an hour of this we came to a roadÄjust a track through the bush, but you could see marks of wheels and horses' hooves. To the left the road went away from the landing boat and the town, so we went left, with Shizuko walking again but leaning quite a lot on Pete.

We came to a farmhouse. Perhaps we should have ducked around it but by then I wanted a drink of water more than I yearned to be totally safe, and I wanted to strap Tilly's ankle before it got bigger than her head.

There was an older woman, gray-haired, very neat and prim, sitting in a rocking chair on the front veranda, knitting. She looked up as we got closer, motioned to us to come up to the house. "I'm Mrs. Dundas," she said. "You're from the ship?"

"Yes," I agreed. "I'm Friday Jones and this is Matilda Jackson and this is our friend Pete."

"Pete Roberts, ma'am."

"Come sit down, all of you. You'll forgive me if I don't get up; my back is not what it used to be. You're refugees, are you not? You've jumped ship?"

(Bite the bullet. But be ready to duck.) "Yes. We are."

"Of course. About half the jumpers wind up first with us. Well, according to this morning's wireless you'll need to hide out at least three days. You're welcome here and we enjoy visitors. Of course you are entitled to go straight to the transient barracks; the ship authorities can't touch you there. But they can make you miserable with their endless lawyer arguments. You can decide after dinner. Right now, would you like a nice cup of tea?"

"Yes!" I agreed.

"Good. Malcolm! Oh, Malcooom!"

"What, Mum?"

"Put the kettle on!"

"What?"

"The billy!" Mrs. Dundas added, to Tilly, "Child, what have you done to your foot?"

"I think I sprained it, ma'am."

"You certainly did! YouÄFriday is your name?Ägo find Malcolm, tell him I want the biggest dishpan filled with cracked ice. Then you can fetch tea, if you will, while Malcolm cracks ice. And you, sirÄMr. RobertsÄyou can help me out of this chair because there are more things we'll need for this poor child's foot. Must strap it after we get the swelling down. And youÄMatildaÄare you allergic to aspirin?"

"No, ma'am."

"Mum! The billy's boiling!"

"YouÄFridayÄgo, dear."

I went to fetch tea, with a song in my heart.