Soothsayer (29 page)

"Does anyone reside there now?"

"Let's see,” said the Mouse, looking at the readout again. “Yes. It was deserted for almost three millennia, but now it's got a couple of hundred farmers, and a small religious group trying to create their own Utopia, based on an agricultural community from the days when we were still Earthbound. I gather than the planet itself is very scenic, and most of the dwellings were designed to look like Victorian farmhouses from old Earth. There's nothing in the readout about a Tradertown, but I suppose there must be one; Killhaven's so far off the beaten track that I imagine the cartographers are a few years behind the times."

The Mock Turtle had no more questions, and the Mouse ordered the holographic map to dissolve. Then she left the cockpit and made her way back to the storage compartment.

"Now let's see exactly what kind of contraband we're carrying,” she said.

The alien showed no interest in helping her, but Penelope, with a child's curiosity, joined her at the door to the compartment.

The Mouse ordered the computer to unlock the door. It replied that it could not do so without the proper code.

"Damn!” she muttered. “I guess we'll have to do it the hard way."

She looked around for a tool kit, found one, and spent the next two hours tinkering with the lock mechanism, all the while wishing that Merlin, to whom no lock was a mystery, had not joined the opposition.

Finally, when she was all but ready to admit defeat, she heard a faint beeping sound, and the door slid back into a bulkhead. She crouched over and entered the low-ceilinged compartment.

"Well, how about this!” she exclaimed a moment later. “Four bags of alphanella seeds."

"What are alphanella seeds?” asked Penelope.

"A hallucinogenic drug. They're outlawed everywhere in the Democracy, and on most of the Frontier worlds as well."

"A what kind of drug?"

"Hallucinogenic,” repeated the Mouse. “When you chew on the seed you go into a trace and see all kinds of strange things. As often as not the experience kills you ... but if you survive the first time, you're an addict the rest of your life. You forget to eat, you don't sleep, all you do it chase after the seeds."

"Why would anyone want to chew the seeds, then?"

The Mouse shrugged. “The ultimate thrill,” she said without much conviction. “Don't ask me. I never did understand seed chewers.” She patted the bags fondly, then walked back out of the storage compartment. “Alphanella seeds! Who'd have thought it?"

"What difference does it make?” said the Mock Turtle. “None of us will partake of them."

"In case it's escaped your attention,” she pointed out, “we're not exactly swimming in money. I've got about 2,500 credits left from Calliope, and I suspect you have even less."

"That is true,” admitted the alien.

"Well, then? These bags must be worth a few hundred thousand credits apiece. What do you say?"

"I say leave them aboard the ship,” replied the Mock Turtle. “They will destroy anyone who uses them."

"The way I look at it, anyone stupid enough to become a seed chewer deserves whatever happens to him,” said the Mouse with a shrug.

"Let us ask the Soothsayer."

"That's not fair,” said the Mouse heatedly. “If she says no, we'll be stuck on a strange world with no money and half a dozen bounty hunters chasing us, and if she says yes you'll have made her an active participant in drug dealing. No child should have to make such a decision."

"She is the Soothsayer,” replied the Mock Turtle. “She will choose correctly."

He turned expectantly toward the little girl.

"We should leave the alphanella seeds where we found them,” said Penelope without hesitation.

"But we've barely got enough money to get by for a few days on Killhaven,” said the Mouse.

"We won't need it."

"What about when we leave?” insisted the Mouse. “We'll
have
to have money then."

"We're not leaving Killhaven,” said Penelope.

"But we're still being followed."

"I know."

"Then why—?” began the Mouse.

"Because it's time to stop running away,” said Penelope.

[Back to Table of Contents]

It wasn't a Tradertown, not as the Mouse understood Tradertowns. It was just a little cluster of buildings: a restaurant, a general store, a farm implement shop, a seed warehouse, a church, and a two-story frame rooming house.

There wasn't even a street, just a dirt track that passed in front of the buildings, and it was so filled with ruts that the few vehicles they saw drove about ten feet to the right of it.

"This is a hell of a place to make a stand against a couple of dozen bounty hunters,” muttered the Mouse as they walked the mile from their spaceship to the town.

"You must have faith in the Soothsayer's judgment,” said the Mock Turtle placidly.

"Let the first five ships crash and I'll have a lot more faith,” remarked the Mouse caustically.

As they passed a pasture of mutated beef cattle, each weighing close to 2,500 pounds, grazing contently on the native grasses, Penelope walked up to the wire fence to stare at them.

"They're lovely,” said the little girl.

"They're just cows,” said the Mouse. “A little bigger than most, but no smarter, I'll wager."

"Can I pet one, Mouse?” asked Penelope.

"I don't know why not,” replied the Mouse. “You'll know better than me if it's safe or not."

"Thank you."

Penelope leaned up against the fence and called to the cattle. Most of them ignored her, but a calf, almost as large as a full-grown Earth cow, stared at her with large, curious eyes and finally came over to the fence.

"He's very nice,” said Penelope, rubbing the calf's broad forehead between its eyes. “I think he likes me."

"I'm sure he does,” said the Mouse.

Penelope petted the calf for another minute, then rejoined the Mouse and the Mock Turtle. As they began walking toward the buildings again, the calf followed them on its side of the fence until it could go no further, then began bleating plaintively, and finally returned to its gargantuan mother.

"I wonder if all the animals are that big,” said Penelope.

"I doubt it,” answered the Mouse. “Probably just the meat animals."

Penelope frowned. “I hope nobody wants to eat him when he grows up."

"Perhaps they won't,” said the Mouse reassuringly. “I'm sure they keep some for breeding."

"Wouldn't it be nice it we could come back here someday and see him all grown up, and pet one of his children?” said the little girl.

"I'll settle for just getting off the planet in one piece,” said the Mouse.

They walked past fields of corn and sugar berries, and finally came to what passed for the town.

"What shall we do now, Soothsayer?” asked the Mock Turtle, oblivious to the curious stares it elicited from within the various shops.

"Now we wait,” answered Penelope.

"Right here?” asked the Mouse, surprised.

"No,” said Penelope. “They won't be here for awhile."

"Good,” said the Mouse. “Then let's rent some rooms. I could do with a shower."

"Me, too,” said Penelope. She examined her doll thoughtfully. “And Maryanne's all covered with dust."

The Mouse headed for the rooming house, and entered it a moment later. It seemed much like the farmhouses of ancient Earth: it was made of wood, and the floor was covered with an inexpensive rug rather than carpeted. The furniture was sturdy and functional, but far from elegant, and despite the displays of fresh flowers there was a scent and feeling of mustiness about the place.

A floorboard creaked as she walked up to the registration desk, which in this case was simply a wooden table with a thin, weatherworn, elderly man sitting behind it.

"How much are your rooms?” asked the Mouse.

"Eighty credits a night. One hundred if you want the one with its own bathroom."

"We'd like three rooms, please,” she said, as Penelope and the Mock Turtle entered the house. “Including the one with its own bath."

"Only got two,” said the man. “Your green friend will have to make other arrangements."

"We'll take two, then,” said the Mouse with a shrug. “The little girl and I can double up."

"Only got one in that case."

"If you don't accept aliens, why don't you post a sign to that effect?” demanded the Mouse.

"That's the first alien I've seen in almost thirty years,” answered the man. “Only been renting out rooms for the last seventeen."

"Since there's no sign to the contrary, we'll take two rooms,” said the Mouse firmly.

"I only got one to rent,” said the man.

"Look,” said the Mouse. “We've come a long way, and we're tired and hungry. We want two rooms."

"I know what you want,” said he man. “You keep it up, and you might find yourself sleeping out in a cornfield."

"
You
keep it up, and you might start wondering what your ugly little world looked like when your head was still attached to your shoulders."

The Mouse felt a hand tug at the sleeve of her tunic.

"Offer him more money,” said Penelope.

"Why should I?” said the Mouse. “He hasn't posted any restrictions."

"Mouse, just
do
it,” said Penelope wearily.

The Mouse shrugged and turned back to the old man. “Five hundred credits a night for two rooms."

"A thousand,” replied the man.

The Mouse was about to protest, but Penelope squeezed her hand, and nodded her approval.

"All right. A thousand."

"In advance."

The Mouse dug into the pouch where she kept her valuables, pulled out a thousand credits, and slapped them down on the table.

"Up the stairs,” said the old man, indicating a wooden staircase. “First two rooms on the left."

"Where are our keys?” demanded the Mouse.

"Where's your luggage?"

"That's none of your business."

The old man seemed to consider her answer, then opened a drawer and pulled out two keys.

"Thanks,” said the Mouse sardonically.

"If you don't like our service, you can always go to our competitors,” said the old man.

"You could
use
a little competition,” snapped the Mouse.

"We got some,” he replied with a broad grin. “Another boarding house, halfway around the planet. Just a good stretch of the legs."

The Mouse picked up the keys and led the way upstairs. When she reached the landing, she handed one of the keys to the Mock Turtle.

"Why didn't you say anything?” she demanded, still furious.

"What was there to say?” responded the alien placidly.

"I've seen you shoot the Yankee Clipper down in cold blood, so don't tell me that you've been taught to turn the other cheek. Why didn't you stand up for your rights?"

"The Soothsayer did not instruct me to argue."

"And if the Soothsayer tells you to jump off the edge of a cliff, will you do so?"

"Most certainly,” replied the Mock Turtle.

The Mouse muttered an obscenity and entered her room, followed by Penelope. The Mock Turtle watched her for a moment, then entered its own room.

The Mouse's room contained two narrow beds, a dresser with a large mirror, a rocking chair, a pair of small throw rugs—one between the beds, the other just outside the door to the bathroom—and each wall was covered with two-dimensional photographs of the old man at the desk, an equally aged woman, and number of middle-aged men and women, and children of various ages from infancy to young adulthood, which the Mouse assumed were their children and grandchildren.

"There's no holo set,” noted Penelope.

"I'm surprised there's a window,” said the Mouse. She sighed deeply. “Well, let's see what the facilities are like."

She walked to the bathroom door and waited impatiently.

"Open,” she commanded.

The door remained shut.

"Try the handle,” said Penelope.

The Mouse reached for the door's hand and twisted it.

"I'll be damned!” she said. “Do you know how long it's been since I've seen one of these?"

She entered the bathroom, grimaced when she discovered that there was no Dryshower, walked to the tub, said “Hot", waited for a moment, then shook her head in disbelief and turned the faucet.

"How do people live like this?” she muttered.

She bathed, dried herself, and got back into her clothes, then rejoined Penelope in the bedroom.

"I don't think I'd better wash Maryanne in real water,” said Penelope, sitting cross-legged on her bed and looking thoughtfully at the doll. “I was hoping the bathroom would have a Dryshower."

The Mouse sat down on her own bed.

"We have more important things to worry about,” she said.

"I know,” answered Penelope seriously.

"When will they start arriving?"

"Soon."

"Today?"

"I think so."

"How many of them?"

"Today? Just one ship."

"Can you tell who's aboard it yet?"

"Not yet."

"Carlos and the Kid, perhaps?"

Penelope frowned. “I hope not."

"If you're still afraid of him, why are we sitting here waiting for him?” asked the Mouse, puzzled.

"I told you: we're all through running away."

"Why here? Why weren't we all through running away on Calliope or McCallister?"

Penelope shrugged. “It just
feels
right here."

"Well,” said the Mouse with a sigh, “I suppose it makes sense after all. Most of the ships that were chasing us got left behind at McCallister.” She paused. “I wonder what would happen if we went back to the ship right now and took off again? How many more of them would we lose?"

"They'd catch us before we reached the next world and kill us,” said Penelope.

"No they wouldn't—you're much too valuable to kill."

"They wouldn't mean to,” said the little girl. “They'd try to disable the ship—but it's not very sturdy. The first time it was hit, all three of us would die."

"So that's why we're through running?"

Penelope nodded her head.

"Shit!” said the Mouse. “I was hoping it was because you saw some way to make them finally stop chasing us. I didn't realize it was because we'd die if we kept running away."