Clan and Crown (16 page)

The Dramok’s tense voice grew louder as
Clajak hurried to him. “You’d better or we’re screwed.”

Clajak’s body still contained heat.
Egilka crowded against him as the younger man felt for the way out.
Triumph colored the prince’s voice. “Ah, here’s the latch. Come on,
open for me you prick.”

A sliver of light appeared, making
Egilka squint. It slid back to grow ever larger, revealing a
featureless expanse of brown textured walls and brown padded
flooring.

Warmth streamed in, a blessed thaw to
Egilka’s skin. He moaned to feel it. It was all he could do to not
throw caution to the wind and dash out of the cargo hold into that
wondrous heat.

Clajak shouldered him back. “Let me
take a look and see if we have company.”

He leaned out of the doorway a little
at a time, cautious for once as he studied the situation. Then he
straightened and strode out of the cargo bay. “It’s a small room.
No one is in here. Come on, Imdiko, get the hell out of that
freezer.”

Egilka stumbled into the wonderful
balmy room, his legs feeling as if they ended in stumps. “Well, at
least my feet don’t hurt now,” he muttered to himself. Hearing his
own voice made Egilka realize how much quieter this part of the
ship was compared to the hold. It smelled different too. Kind of
musty but alive and earthy ... like the fur of an
animal.

The room was small and not well lit
once his eyes adjusted to going from pitch black. He blew on his
fingers. His breaths ended in whimpers as the digits came painfully
back to life.

“Okay, this is a start,” Clajak said.
Like Egilka he shivered violently, as if to physically shake off
the cold.

Egilka was stunned when the Dramok went
back into the frigid cargo hold. Egilka staggered to the door,
feeling the bitter cold envelope him again. “Clajak! What the hell
are you doing?”

He got no answer. The prince had
disappeared into the darkness. It was as if the frozen black had
swallowed him.

“Clajak!”

The Dramok abruptly re-appeared, his
arms full of a smallish crate. “Food and drink, my Imdiko. This may
be our only chance to score them until we reach
Joshada.”

Egilka felt a grudging respect. He
wasn’t sure he would have been able to go back in, not even if his
belly flapped against his spine from hunger or his tongue cracked
from thirst. Even from the doorway, the cold coming from the cargo
bay seemed to have tripled since they left it.

Clajak set the crate down to close the
hatch. He turned and appraised Egilka. Clajak’s face was almost as
gray as his hair. His hands were nearly white.

Apparently, Egilka had also changed
colors from his near brush with being flash frozen. Clajak told
him, “You’re blue. It’s not a good color for you, my handsome
friend.”

Egilka grabbed the other man’s hands
and rubbed them, trying to restore Clajak’s circulation. “I’m not
your friend. I hate your guts, remember?”

Clajak managed a smile at Egilka’s
bantering tone. “For now. But at least we have heat, food, drink,
and each other.”

He pressed cold lips to Egilka’s before
brushing the Imdiko off and grabbing the crate. He moved towards
the closed door at the opposite end of the tiny room. Egilka hoped
it led to a quiet, abandoned sleeping space they could stay warm in
for the rest of the trip.

“Let’s see where this leads and hope we
can find a quiet place to hide—”

As Clajak came close to the door, it
whooshed open and bumped hard at the end of the motion. Egilka
cringed at the loud noise. He hoped no one was nearby to hear them
and hustle the stowaways out of the nearest airlock.

Clajak snorted. “So much for quiet.” He
stuck his head out into what seemed to be a hallway. Clajak looked
in both directions and shrugged. “Fortunately, no one seems to be
wandering about this corridor. Come on, Egilka.”

Egilka took a step and hissed as fiery
pain took hold. At Clajak’s questioning look, he whispered, “My
toes hurt. Hideously. The circulation is coming back.”

Clajak nodded understanding. “It took
next to no time to just about freeze in there, did it? Another
minute or two and we would have lost fingers and toes for
good.”

Egilka hobbled to Clajak’s side and
looked up and down the empty corridor. The brown walls were smooth,
with inset panels at about chest height. Egilka imagined pressing
those panels would reveal computer, com, and readout stations. The
floor was the same uniform brown, spongy with padding.

Clajak said, “Your choice. Which way
should we go?”

“I haven’t got a clue. Why are you
asking me anyway? You’re the Dramok. You’re supposed to
lead.”

For some reason that made Clajak smile.
His color was returning, and he looked as handsome as ever. “You’re
right. That way, then.”

He nodded to their right. Taking the
lead, Clajak headed in that direction.

As they went, they passed doors. Some
remained shut. Others opened, making that same loud whoosh-bump
noise as they permitted entrance. Since those doors revealed rooms
filled with mechanical instrumentation and work spaces, fortunately
empty of crew, Clajak and Egilka kept going.

The vicious pins and needles in
Egilka’s feet were easing their assault when one of the doors
opened to display a nearly empty space. Clajak went in and Egilka
followed him. The door closed behind them.

Clajak smiled in pleasure and set the
container down. “Perfect. We found our spot.”

Egilka turned around in a circle,
taking in the few details the room possessed. Like everywhere else
they’d been on the ship since quitting the cargo hold, the walls
and floor were mud brown. The wall texture came from a fibrous
carpeting. There were shelves with what appeared to be brightly
colored rugs folded and stacked on them. A wide doorway opened into
another room. Egilka went in to find the space was covered with
hard white plastic-like surfaces. There were small holes in the
ceiling and a drain in the middle of the floor.

Egilka returned to the carpet-walled
room to find Clajak taking rugs off the shelves. He tossed a couple
onto the padded floor. He brought a green one to Egilka, wrapping
the Imdiko in its thick, plush warmth.

Egilka drew the rug tight around him,
noting that it carried a hint of the furred animal scent he’d
detected before. It was a pleasant musky odor that somehow
comforted him.

“What is this room?” he asked
Clajak.

Clajak gathered another rug around his
still shivering body, this one an electric blue. “Crew quarters
would be my guess. It doesn’t smell like it’s been used in some
time. We’ll claim it for our trip.”

Egilka frowned and looked at the room
and its lack of furnishings. “There isn’t a sleeping mat. Or a
lounge to relax on.”

“Adrafs sleep standing up.”

“They do?” Egilka turned to look at the
attached room, with its smooth surfaces and central drain. “That’s
their version of a shower, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“No toilet facility though.”

Clajak chuckled. “You need to come out
of your lab once in a while, Imdiko. Especially since the Empire
trades with Adraf and we sometimes host delegations. It’s good to
know what they require from their hosts.”

“I’ve attended the official
receptions,” Egilka said. “Besides, we have event coordinators and
aides to take care of our visitors.”

“Egilka, I’m surprised at you.” Clajak
pretended shock. “Even an eventual emperor should know the details
of what makes our allies comfortable.”

Egilka snickered at the thought of
inquiring into a delegate’s bathroom necessities. “Then educate me,
all knowing prince of interstellar crap.”

“See, now that just shows your
ignorance. There is no crap involved here. Adrafs regurgitate their
waste instead of shitting.”

“Well, isn’t that
fascinating.”

Clajak stepped into the shower facility
and eyed the drain. “I’m guessing their version of a disposal unit
would be ... ah, here we go.” He stepped onto a square next to the
drain. The drain cover slid aside, revealing the hole
beneath.

Egilka wrinkled his nose at the thought
of relieving himself in the same place where he expected to be
cleansed. “I guess it could be worse.”

“Now you’re getting into the spirit of
adventure.” Clajak rejoined him in the sleeping quarters. “Sit
down. Let’s have a drink, if you like.”

“A drink? I could put away the entire
cargo of leshella after the day we had.”

He and Clajak sat side by side,
cross-legged on the padded floor. It was comfortable enough that
Egilka knew he would sleep well on its surface. The feeling had
returned fully to the Imdiko’s fingers and toes. His whole body
felt warmer. Maybe a little too warm under the rug-blanket. Egilka
had no intention of unwrapping it. The memory of being frozen was
still too fresh in his mind.

He pulled off his shoes and rubbed his
feet. Now that feeling had returned, they ached again from the
rigors of spending most of a day creeping around a jungle. A
whimper escaped his lips once and he looked at Clajak, feeling
self-conscious. If the Dramok noticed the moment of weakness, he
didn’t remark on it. He concentrated on examining the contents of
the container he’d grabbed from the cargo hold. It was a nice
cache, Egilka noted.

After a few minutes, Egilka let go of
his tingling feet. He accepted a small bottle of leshella from
Clajak. The smooth blue liquid refreshed him. Its alcoholic
properties made his muscles loosen. Egilka’s worries eased,
especially after starting in on the second bottle Clajak offered
him.

“Eat and drink all you like,” the
prince said. “The cargo hold isn’t so far off that I can’t sneak in
and get more supplies. We’ll just have to remember to collect what
we need in time for it to thaw out.”

They supped on fruits, enjoying the
sweetness of the nellus, the crunchy tartness of the shalla stalks,
the smooth mellow flavors of the fessus bulbs. Before long, Egilka
was fully relaxed.

This isn’t so bad. I could
even enjoy this now that I’m not being chased, beaten, frozen
alive, or shoved out into space.

Egilka chuckled to himself and finished
off his second bottle of fine liquor. He told Clajak, “You know
what? I am never leaving Kalquor again. Fuck this shit. My lab may
be boring, but at least I’m not getting killed.”

Clajak rolled his eyes. “Do you think
I’m going to let anything happen to you? Come on, Imdiko. What’s so
great about sitting in a lab, getting old and dusty and waiting to
die?”

Egilka bristled as much as his relaxed
state of mind would allow. “I’m doing important work. You can’t put
recreation ahead of what’s important. I have
priorities.”

Clajak gave him a sad smile. “You mean
mindless devotion to one who cannot be brought back. Do you think
Cyrt would appreciate your hermit existence as her
memorial?”

“She would want me to save others like
her.”

“Not at the price of your own
joy.”

Clajak leaned close, close enough for
Egilka to kiss. The Imdiko wished Clajak would shut up so he could
contemplate that delightful idea a little more.

However, Clajak was determined to have
his say. “You told me how full of life Cyrt was. She’d never
condemn her brother to the life you lead. Do your work but have
some fun once in a great while. Otherwise, you’ll turn into the
same sour jealous jerk Imdiko Wej became.”

Hearing his father’s name made Egilka
scowl. Suddenly he didn’t want to kiss Clajak. Not as much,
anyway.

The prince grinned. “What I wouldn’t
have given to have heard that announcement.” Clajak’s honeyed tone
lightened in a respectably accurate imitation of Egilka’s cultured
voice. “‘My father, do you remember a certain Nobek emperor who
once courted you as a possible clanmate? The one who if Tidro
hadn’t been so much more to his liking, would have made you an
emperor yourself? Well, I’m now betrothed to his son. I’ll be
emperor in the distant future instead of you.’ As if Wej wasn’t
already eaten up with envy over your research being so far beyond
his work.”

Egilka said, “I’m glad my family issues
are fun for you to envision, Clajak.”

“My Imdiko, that man has competed
viciously with you and every other person he’s ever come across.
It’s only his status, breed, and rank that managed to get anyone to
clan him. I know you have little loyalty to Wej, because he
inspires none.”

It was true. While Egilka had respect
for his father’s work – despite Clajak’s insult, Wej was a
brilliant scientist – the man was a torment to be around. He even
kept a home separate from the rest of Egilka’s parent
clan.

“My father Wej is difficult,” Egilka
acknowledged. “And yes, when he found out I agreed to be clanned to
you, the anger was ... extreme.”

Even leaving it to his other fathers
and mother to tell Wej of the eventual clanning hadn’t cushioned
much of his father’s fury. The elder Imdiko had been beside himself
in a jealous rage over the matter.