Now available
Lost in Translation

The paperback from DAW Books

Praise for Ed's previous novel, Lost in Translation:

"Edward Willett has arrived, and SF is the richer for it." -  Robert J. Sawyer, Hugo Award-winning author of Hominids

"A believable, absorbing, thought-provoking and highly enjoyable read." - Kathy Tyers, Author of the Firebird trilogy, Star Wars: The Truce at Bakura, and Star Wars: Balance Point

Andy Nebula: Interstellar Rock Star
Published by Roussan Publishers

Nominated for the 2001 Manitoba Young Readers Choice Award
Named to the Our Choice list by the Canadian Children's Book Centre

Back to start

Back to Chapter 16

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It shouldn't have been that easy.

It wasn't.

Inside, the module consisted of a long, narrow aisle with shelving on either side. The shelves were empty.

"No place to hide," said Meta as the door closed behind us. "Maybe this module isn't going with the others."

"Maybe," I said. "But then why activate it? It takes energy to power it, and energy is money. I think we're just early."

"But the first person who opens the door--"

As if on cue, the door opened. I froze and waited to be caught--but no one came in. I could hear voices just around the corner, though, male and indistinct. "All the way to the end," I whispered to Meta. "Quick!"

"But there's nothing--"

"Move!" She moved. The module ended in a bulkhead. "Bottom shelves," I said, and replied to her puzzled look by lying down on the floor and squeezing onto the lowermost shelf, at floor level. It was a tight fit; I could hardly breathe, and had to turn my head sideways to keep my nose from pressing against the cold metal underside of the shelf above me. It gave me a perfect view of Meta wriggling with less difficulty under the shelves on the other side--and an equally perfect view of the steel-toed work boots of the cargo handler who clumped down the length of the module seconds later. A second pair of boots followed.

"Lots of room," said a voice. "We won't use half of it."

"Good," growled a second, deeper voice. "The fewer of these things I have to carry the better."

"You got that right. Ugliest critters I ever set my eyes on."

"Looked in a mirror recently, Pete?"

"Shut up, Dargo." They went out, but I met Meta's frightened eyes and shook my head the fraction of a centimeter I could, warning her to stay quiet and stay still. The boots came back. "So what do you suppose they use them for?" said Pete.

"I don't know. Food, maybe."

"That's disgusting!"

"Have you looked in a--"

"Oh, suck vacuum." Out and back again; more banging noises over our heads. "Maybe they're pets."

"Shut up and load." After that they stayed silent, except for the occasional grunt, as they moved in and out, gradually working their way toward the door. I fought an overwhelming urge to sneeze and wondered what we were bunking with.

At last they finished. I heard the door close, but the lights stayed on. As quickly as I could--not very--I wormed out from under the shelf. Meta was quicker; she stood up and screamed.

"Stop that!" I said irritably. Then I stood up and almost screamed, too.

Locked into magnetic holders every half-metre were transparent animal carriers filled with--monsters. Reptilian, multi-legged, they had four glittering golden eyes apiece on stalks atop long, narrow heads. Every eye locked on us when we moved--and every mouth opened, revealing gums the colour of a dead man's face and long black fangs. And then the lights went out.

"Kit..." said Meta, voice quavering. "I'm going to scre--eee!"

"That's me, that's me," I said, squeezing her arm.

"What are they?"

"Food--pets--I don't know. You heard as much as I did."

"Nobody could eat those. " I felt her shudder.

"Well, they can't get out. They're nothing to worry about."

"Why did the lights go out? What's happening?"

"I think they must be getting ready to load this module. We've almost made it!"

"So what do we do?"

"Sit. Wait."

"For what?"

"Lift-off." I eased myself down onto the floor, and leaned back against the bulkhead. "Remember, once we're in space it's too expensive to break the flight plan to get rid of a stowaway. Whatever happens, at least we'll be away from Fistfight City--and Qualls."

I heard Meta sit beside me; I reached out for her and she flinched, then grabbed my hand and squeezed--hard. "That's a little--ouch!--tight," I said.

"I'm sorry." Meta loosened her grip. "It's just--I keep imagining those--those things getting out, and--" She shuddered again. "I hate snakes, and things like that."

"I hate snakes and things like that, too," I said grimly. "And the biggest snake I know is Qualls."

Meta moved closer; I could feel her warmth. "Kit--"

"What?" I closed my eyes; it made the unrelenting blackness easier to bear.

"Will you--will you put your arm around me?"

My eyes flew open. "Uh--"

"I don't mean, like that, I just... " Her voice trailed off. "I just want to be sure you're there."

I put my arm around her shoulders. "Of course I'm here."

She snuggled against me, her head on my chest. "Thank you," she whispered.

After that we sat in the silent darkness, waiting for whatever would happen next. Not surprisingly, what happened next was we both fell asleep.

I surfaced slowly, like a man trying to swim in thick mud, from a disturbed dream involving running, fire and giant rats. I struggled to wakefulness and finally jerked upright with a gasp, waking Meta. "What's wrong?" she cried.

"Bad dream, that's all." I wiped cold sweat from my forehead. "Go back to sleep." But I knew I wouldn't. That dream had come from flash. I knew it. I had broken the physical addiction--hadn't I?--but the mental effects--would I ever be free of them? And if one dose could do this to me--what would have been left of me after two years on Hydra and a constant diet of the stuff?

Two years? In a time pocket, it would be more like thirty.

I thought of all the other kids Qualls had passed on to The Dealer over the years, and clenched my fists. He had a lot to answer for. A lot.

A bass rumble shook the floor. "Meta?" I whispered.

"What?" Her hand tightened in the folds of my shirt.

"They've activated the lifters. We've done it!"

"Does that mean we can get out of here soon?"

I laughed and squeezed her close. "Soon," I said. "Very soon."

The rumble suddenly rose in pitch and volume. I had a fleeting feeling of crushing weight before the gravsims overrode the acceleration--but then I frowned. Now I was too light. "Must be a freighter," I muttered. "Their gravsims are out of whack. It can't be a regular passenger ship..." I wished I'd thought to see what ships were in port. Maybe I could have figured out which one we were on--and where we were going. I thought about the creatures surrounding us in the dark, then wished I hadn't. If we were going to their home world, I didn't want to know.

I gave the ship half an hour to break orbit, to ensure the captain would have no inclination to return to Fistfight City. Then I woke Meta, who had dozed off again, and climbed stiffly to my feet. "We must have slept for hours," I groaned, trying to work the kinks out of my back and legs. I stretched, accidentally touched the cold smooth surface of one of the animal containers, and snatched my hand back as though burned.

Glad Meta hadn't been able to see me, I felt my way down the module toward the door. There had to be some way to open it from the inside... I fumbled around the door's edges, and eventually something I touched clicked sharply, and the module's blue interior lights came on. "That's better," I murmured, and pushed the next button over. The door slid open.

To my surprise, we weren't in a dark hold, but hooked up to a corridor, filled with the same weird blue light as the module.

Meta winced. "That hurts!"

"This must be a real rustbucket," I said. "Weak gravsims and bad lighting. I hope it holds together long enough to get us away." I stepped out of the module and looked both ways. To the left the corridor ran about a dozen metres and ended in another door. To the right it ended in a T-intersection. "Well, let's go face the music," I told Meta, and strode down the corridor--no need to hide; now we wanted to be found--stepped into the intersection, looked left--and leaped back, crashing into Meta.

She opened her mouth and I grabbed her and put my hand over it. Heart pounding, I dragged her back to "our" module and slapped the button that closed the door behind us, then released her and fell back against the wall.

Meta stared at me. "Kit, what's wrong?"

My knees gave out and I sank to the floor, watched eagerly by monsters. "The Dealer," I whispered. "We're on The Dealer's ship!"

#

On to Chapter 18..