Secret of Spring Page 8

  The little twerp! He was trading on his master’s notorious reputation to make himself more appealing to her. Fat chance. Neither of that distasteful duo could have been more repulsive if they had been Venusian devil fish.

  “Magician?” She smiled insincerely. “How impressive.” Liar. “How is it you came to be on this voyage?”

  “I had some unfinished business to conclude on New Moon,” he answered suavely.

  She just bet he did. “And did you conclude it successfully?”

  “That’s hard to say. I may have. Time will tell.”

  Yes, thought Spring. He was probably running home to Zygote to report she was stranded at the sanctuary, then would return with a force of goons to take her by force, if need be.

  “How fortunate for you,” she said insincerely.

  “Yes,” he agreed, smiling. “And unfortunate for others. But I am more interested in you. Care for another smoke?”

  Spring hadn’t noticed how fast the thing had shrunk with her constant puffing. “No. I mean, no thank you. It was, uh, excellent.” Actually, it was like sucking on a burnt dish rag.

  “I am so pleased you enjoyed it,” Elton said. “The aroma is delicious, is it not?” He blew a puff her way.

  Trying not to gag, she inhaled, and forced a smile. “Ah yes. Indeed.” For those who liked the smell of fried cat fur, she thought.

  Spring listened vacantly as Elton talked on and on, finally hoping she had spent sufficient time with him in order to leave gracefully. She was beginning to feel a bit woozy, and attributed it to tension. Even so, she would feel better back in her own compartment, away from the little toad.

  It wasn’t his sexual adaption that appalled her: after all, aliens had different standards of morality that could not be fairly compared with her own. No, Elton earned her disgust as a slime sucking low-life on his own merits. As she arose to depart, she felt herself sway slightly and reached out to grip the side of the booth.

  “Are you ill?” asked Elton, solicitously, reaching for her arm.

  “I do feel somewhat strange. I did not have my usual rest last night,” she said, concerned, “and am doubtless fatigued.”

  “Then I must see you to your compartment.” He beamed.

  Wonderful. “No, it is nothing at all,” she protested, turning abruptly and causing her head to swim violently. Elton steadied her so she did not fall.

  “Now, I must insist, dear fellow. In fact, why don’t I take you to my private compartment instead? It’s such a long way back to yours, and I know that I could make you,” he paused, “very comfortable.”

  Spring panicked at the thought. Venusian devil fish were looking better all the time. This meeting had been disastrous. The last thing she needed was to be incapacitated and alone at the mercy of that little leech.

  If he tried making a pass, and it was inevitable under the circumstances, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to fend him off in her condition. Her mind was racing, but she could think of nothing to stop the chain of events. Suddenly, she felt another hand touch her shoulder. It was the redhead from her compartment.

  “You seem ill, Sir,” she said. “I would be glad to assist you back to our compartment as I go.”

  Blessed break for the home team! Spring opened her mouth to accept.

  “No need, young woman,” Elton said, looking daggers at her. “I am taking my friend to my compartment, as it is much closer.”

  “Oh, but I am a trained nurse. I think he should go straight to bed for the night.” She tugged Spring in the opposite direction. Now Spring knew how a wishbone felt.

  But she had to assert herself, or she would be lost. “I think that is wise. I should turn in. But I thank you, sir,” she said, holding on to the redhead like a lifeline, hoping not to swoon before she could exit.

  There was nothing more Elton could say, but his tone betrayed his annoyance. “Very well. Perhaps we could meet tomorrow, after you have rested?”

  “Perhaps,” answered Spring. And perhaps she would run naked through the corridors juggling oranges, but the chances were just as remote. She clung gratefully to her rescuer as they proceeded at a slow pace toward their mutual compartment.

  “You don’t look good,” observed the girl. “I think you shouldn’t smoke any more of those weeds you were puffing like a smokestack.”

  The cigar. They might no longer be a health risk, but they did have side effects for the uninitiated. No wonder she felt so awful!

  “I’m not a smoker,” she confessed.

  The girl opened the door and led her inside. Spring looked up in surprise. “This isn’t our compartment.”

  “No, it’s a private lounge. You know, for businessmen and rich old biddies to meet and gossip.”

  “Then why are we stopping here?” she asked.

  “That little priss was right about one thing. You need to lie down.” She led Spring to the narrow chaise lounge, where she collapsed, thankfully. It did feel good to get her head out of the sky. She turned onto her stomach and shut her eyes.

  “How did you get mixed up with that Ki anyway? It’s obvious he had designs on you, but you don’t strike me as one to prefer that type.”

  “I don’t prefer him, or her, or whatever it is. He disgusts me.”

  “I thought so. That’s why I horned in like I did. I have a confession. I’m not a nurse at all. And I will take you back to our compartment when you feel a little steadier on your feet.”

  “Thank you,” Spring said, shutting her eyes again. “I’m sure it will pass.”

  Suddenly, she felt two feminine hands at the back of her neck, massaging her padded shoulders. Spring’s eyes popped open. “What are you doing?”

  “Just trying to relax you,” said the girl. “You know, you have small bone structure for a man.”

  It did feel good, but she couldn’t risk discovery of her phony muscles. “Thanks, but I’d rather you didn’t—” She didn’t finish the sentence for at that moment she felt not hands but lips kissing the back of her neck.

  Leaping from the chaise lounge, head reeling, she turned on her companion with wide eyes flashing.

  “You kissed me,” she accused.

  The redhead stood bemused for a moment, then burst into laughter. “I don’t know what your game is, but you are no man, sister,” she said.

  “Maybe not, but I do prefer them,” Spring said, backing toward the door.

  “Yeah? Me too,” said the girl.

  “But, if you knew I wasn’t a man, why did you do that?” she asked, confused more than ever.

  “To test your reaction, I guess. I thought there was something different about you when you first came on the ship, but I couldn’t figure it out. Aliens are different, so I could have been wrong. But I wasn’t, was I?”

  “I guess this disguise wasn’t such a good idea,” sighed Spring.

  “Oh no, you make a great Tyranian. You sure fooled that Ki creep, right? It’s just that I am the suspicious kind. I like to know what makes people tick. It’s kind of a hobby of mine, human nature.”

  “Can I ask you to keep your discovery private? It’s very important,” Spring said.

  “Are you in trouble? Or maybe you just want to avoid male attention on a long trip?”

  “Yes,” Spring said.

  “That’s a definite answer. Well, I don’t believe you’re a criminal. Too naive. Tell you what. If your unwelcome Romeo comes calling again, just signal and I’ll come running.” She smiled and held out a hand for a shake.

  Spring accepted gratefully. It could be the edge she needed to get past Elton until she could reach her plant man.

  True to her offer, the girl stayed close by Spring for the remainder of the trip, keeping an eye out for Elton. It looked as if he had lost interest, for he didn’t approach her in her compartment, nor had she run into him in the dining room.

  But one evening when she was returning from the evening meal her luck took a sudden dive.

  Elton was coming straight
down the narrow corridor toward her. His eyes were glued to papers in his hands so he had not yet spotted her, but there could be no escape this time. Her friend usually accompanied her, but was resting this evening with a headache. Spring had given her a gemstone with directions to help eradicate the pain.

  Spring knew she would be hard pressed to put Elton off a second time. Especially when he had her cornered alone. And of course, if he was expecting a male reception, there was no way she could comply, even had she so strangely desired to do so. The fact was, her disguise wouldn’t go that far. She lacked the basic equipment, and he would find that out quickly and then realize who she really was. The fox hunt would be over.

  He was still engrossed in whatever it was he was reading, so was advancing very slowly. There was no time to run back, though, and that was his destination besides.

  Suddenly, she spied a small hatch at the side of the corridor. Spring shoved and it gave. Bending down, for it was only about three feet from floor level, she pushed against it and ducked inside. Instead of stepping out on the opposite side as expected, however, she plunged straight down into darkness.

  11

  Down the Hatch

  It was a shaft. Now she’d gone and done it. “Out of the frying pan into the fire,” as her late father was fond of quoting. It was an Old World saying that until that moment she had never fully appreciated.

  Fortunately, it wasn’t a straight drop. It slanted forward toward the center of the ship, causing her to slide down, rather than plunge the descent.

  She came to an abrupt stop on something soft. It was alive. Giving an indignant squeal, it scurried off into the dark with scratchy feet. With the unquestionable intuition women have about such things, Spring immediately identified it as a smouse. Those were small, fuzzy rodents considered more as pests than a danger, but the thought of touching one still gave her the shivers.

  Where in the universe was she? Her eyes were slowly growing accustomed to the darkness. Objects began to come into focus as her night vision increased. It didn’t especially help. It looked as if she had landed on top of a huge room full of junk.

  Paper and debris of all kinds made a sort of mountain upon which she tried to stand. It wasn’t easy, for the footing was slippery, and worse, she nearly slid down between a loose section. If not careful, she could end up buried under all that trash. Trash? Had she mistakenly jumped into a garbage bin? How brilliant! The question was, how to get out of it.

  More smouses rustled in the loose papers nearby, but seemed as content to avoid her as she was glad to have them do so. She tried yelling at the top of her lungs, but realized no one would hear her in there. Who would be listening to a pile of junk?

  Besides, the noise of the ship’s mechanics were rumbling like thunder at the moment. It would be virtually impossible for anyone to hear over the din that the machinery was—

  Machinery?

  Spring was no expert in the dynamics of spacecraft, but she did know that lightships were practically soundless. They ran on waves or something. There should be no rumbling engines to make those kinds of sounds. But if it wasn’t the engines, then what was it? And more than that, what was happening?

  Added to the present noise was the sound of swirling papers. Looking upward, she saw some of the top layer of the junk begin to rise. It followed a spiraling pattern upward toward the center of the high ceiling where it was being sucked into some type of—shredder? No, it would have to be a disintegrator. So that was how they disposed of all the garbage in space. Interesting. And if she didn’t find a way to escape very soon, she would see its workings close up.

  The lighter materials and papers were drawn up first; it was probably put on a lower suction to start, and then given more power for the heavy debris like packing cases, old furniture, and stupid people.

  That meant there was still a little time to try forming a plan. There might be a way to climb back up into the chute, at least until the machinery abated. It must run in cycles since it wasn’t running when she first landed. If she could avoid this cycle, it might be several hours until the next began and that time would give her a fighting chance to escape.

  Spring finally located the small opening she had tumbled through, but it was now far over her head. The level of the mountain was slowly diminishing while more papers flew up into the giant vacuum. How to reach it?

  The suction increased again with a roar, and papers flew violently by her toward their demise. She had to bat them from her face as they swarmed around like angry bees. They stung, too. Her hands already showed tiny beads of blood from the sharp edges. It was a slow process, but given enough time, she could probably die from paper cuts.

  Spring tried vainly piling up armloads of the trash to rebuild her mountain beneath the opening. It was futile, for the suction undid her work as fast as she built it up. What she needed was more heavy material, but that was buried under the lighter papers, their weight sliding them down as they lost support. There was simply no easy way of reaching the portal.

  Well, maybe not that particular one, but the ship was on several levels. It should have chutes at each. There were two more levels beneath the dining area, so if she positioned herself directly beneath the present opening and rode the mountain downward, eventually she should find a second shaft to dive into.

  The roar of the machinery was growing deafening as the suction increased for a third time. Some of the lower debris flew up and around the center, resembling an indoor tornado. It was all she could do to keep her position next to the rim as the papers beneath gave way.

  At least the suction kept new arrivals of trash from falling on her head, as they were quickly sucked up into the swirling torrent. Fortunately it had all been lightweight trash.

  Pieces of boxes and broken dishes slammed into the walls around her. She squatted as low as possible while most of the rubble was drawn above her head. She took a blow to one arm from the edge of a box, but it would leave no more than a nasty bruise. The worst part was that her support was disappearing and she was beginning to feel lighter. She needed more weight.

  Squatting and digging about desperately, her hands struck something solid. It was an ugly old chair, dirty and natty, with the fibers hanging out. It was beautiful. Spring wrapped her arms around and under the sides of it and ceased her assent. It had worked.

  For a while. She descended faster, but the suction grew stronger and her position more precarious with each passing moment. Suddenly, she felt herself beginning to rise. Her foot struck a hard object at the side. It was an old nutrition robot.

  Holding on to the chair with her left arm, she slid her right one into the ejection slot of the robot. Ugh, she touched something fuzzy. A smouse. Spring dropped the unit as the rodent leaped out, landing near her foot and scrambling off. She shot suddenly upward.

  Quickly kicking out with her foot, she jammed it into the slot before it was out of reach. Bending back down, she replaced her foot with her right arm again, and this time there were no resident rodents to chase her out. The upward thrust had ended.

  Safe once again, she reoriented on the now distant hole above, making sure she was still on target. According to her calculations she should be nearing the second chute, if there was one. But what if they weren’t evenly aligned? What if it was in a completely different spot? She should have been watching the other walls as well. What if she had already passed by it?

  “Spring, this is not the time to panic,” she said aloud. Inwardly, she realized there was probably not going to be a better one. All at once, she stopped her downward slide as one of the chair legs caught on something at the side. The chute. She had almost missed it in her panic.

  Crawling past the chair into the shaft, she gave it a kick and it joined the nutrition robot in an upward spiral as it succumbed to the now fierce suction. When she had a house of her own someday, she would get a chair just like that one, and damn the decorator.

  It was a relief to be in out of the trash storm, but it was
time to begin the next challenge, the climb up and out of the shaft. It should not be too hard. It was at a slanting angle, and not straight up until the very end. Removing her shoes and letting them fall down through the slot, she braced her toes against the hard metal. They gave a better traction than her thick-soled slickers. Good name for them.

  Progress was slow, but with patience and proper positioning, she made a steady headway. Then there was a distant scraping sound from above. Sound? Maybe the exit was closer than she thought? Spring strained her eyes in the darkness. There was a darker shadow closing in with the noise. No. That was the source. A looming shape sliding directly for her. A huge unit of some type—a cooling unit? Some of the reflective light tubes were still working. Those things weighed a ton.

  Hardly thinking, she edged back to the wall of the shaft and turned on her side, pressing in as closely as she could. In seconds it whooshed past, missing her by centimeters. She stayed frozen for a minute. It was a miracle it had missed. It could have sent her flying back down into the junk heap, probably crushing her skull in the process. She lay trembling, realizing how close she’d come to a senseless death.

  Spring moved carefully forward, listening for sounds as if her life depended on it. Because it did. No more missiles came shooting from above, though, and with slow deliberation she at last reached the opening and pressed outward.

  It wouldn’t give.

  “Idiot,” she screamed. Of course it wouldn’t open. It needed pressure from the outside, but was static from the back.

  She banged with frustration on the inside of the small door as hard as she could with only one hand. She needed the other one to grip the edge of the shaft, while scotching her feet against the sides. The drop was straight down from the entrance.

  She tried yelling, then screaming. Even Elton would be welcome at this point. It was soon evident no one could hear her, and she couldn’t hear anything from the outside either. What if it was sound proof? To have come so close to escape and gain nothing. Tears of frustration and fear began to form, running silently down her cheeks in the darkness.