Read Drifter Online

Authors: William C. Dietz

Drifter (13 page)

"Both torps carried the same message. The recipient was requested to hold the evidence for thirty days. Should they receive no further instructions within that period of time, they were instructed to file formal charges against Mega-Metals Incorporated. I don't know what you think, but I believe that once introduced into evidence, Mr. Pal's footage would create quite a stir. Enough to bring one of Prince Alexander's investigators out for a little look-see."

Lando gestured towards the crowd. "They wouldn't mind. Would you?"

Lando could almost see the wheels turn as Corvo struggled to take it in. He waited breathlessly to see if she'd bite, and took a deep breath when she did. Though a good deal less physical than Pal, Corvo was no fool, and she knew an escape clause when she saw one.

"So it's your opinion that our, ah, differences could be settled locally?" Corvo ventured.

Lando shrugged and looked around. "Well, given the fact that Mr. Pal has already suffered some degree of punishment, I think an agreement could be reached. Providing that you leave these people alone."

Corvo looked relieved. "Good. And who shall we contact for further discussions?"

Lando looked at Wendy. She looked at her father. Blopar Wendeen smiled thinly and inclined his head.

Lando turned back towards Corvo. "Citizen Wendeen will speak on behalf of his daughter and the settlers."

Corvo nodded and started to turn away. Weasel-face touched her arm and whispered something in her ear. The administrator frowned and turned back.

"And you?"

Lando lifted an eyebrow. "I'll stay for a few days in order to make sure that things go smoothly."

Corvo mustered her courage. "Three days and no more."

Lando had every intention of leaving in less. News of the fracas on Weller's World could arrive at any time, and once it did, all hell would break loose. He nodded his agreement.

The goons disengaged themselves from the children, backed away, and headed for the VTOL. Starters whined, engines caught, and the aircraft lifted off.

Lando felt very exposed, and very much aware of the VTOL's guns as it swept over the crowd, blasting them with grit. He could almost hear the roar of the aircraft's cannons and feel the impact of the slugs. But nothing happened and the plane was soon gone.

Wendy touched his arm. "I didn't know about the thirty-day thing. That was extremely clever."

Lando smiled. "Yeah. Too bad I didn't think of it at the time. Sol only knows what your attorney will do when those torps arrive."

Wendy looked surprised and started to laugh.

Lando laughed too, and discovered that it felt very, very good.

 

 

 

 

9

 

Lando felt around for a handhold, found one, and gathered his strength. He was almost there. The spire of granite called Elder's Rock stood towards the west side of the flat and pointed towards the sky like an accusing finger. For reasons of stubbornness and male pride Lando had agreed to climb it.

Wendy had scampered up the spire like one of the bioengineered rock goats on Lando's native Ithro. She was on the summit by now, enjoying the view, and no doubt laughing at her less gainly companion.

Lando pulled with his arms and pushed with his legs. The top part of his body scraped up and over the edge of the cliff. Good. He heard Wendy's voice but refused to listen. He was almost there and would make it on his own. It was evening and the light had started to fade.

Lando scrabbled for a new handhold, found one, and swore as it came loose. The rock made a clattering sound, followed by silence, followed by a distant thump as it hit the talus a hundred feet below. Lando didn't look. He was afraid to.

His hand found a small crevice. He pulled. One leg came up over the edge and was quickly followed by the other. He rolled to the right and found that a pair of petite climbing boots blocked the way.

"You can get up now."

Lando did a push-up and got to his feet. A cold wind tried to find a hole in his jacket and failed. The smuggler brushed himself off.

"Thanks. Remind me to ask some questions the next time you suggest a 'nice little walk.'"

Wendy was contrite. She took his hand and looked up into his face. "I'm sorry, Pik. It's just that it's so beautiful up here. I wanted you to see it."

Pik looked around. There wasn't much room, just a few square yards of relatively flat space, and a low windbreak made from loose rock.

Wendy saw the direction of his gaze and smiled. "I made that when I was a little girl. I used to sleep up here. I was scared, but the view was worth it."

Lando thought about a little girl brave enough to climb a cliff and stay all night on the summit by herself. Enduring the cold and loneliness to fulfill some inner need.

Wendy took the smuggler's arm and turned him towards the south. "Look, Pik."

There was the town in the foreground, and the mountains beyond, but they were nothing compared to Angel's halo. It was as reflective as a field of freshly fallen snow. The much-elongated reflection of the sun, dazzlingly bright, bounced off the halo and speared Lando's eyes. He squinted and looked away.

The same ring that looked like silver from space was white when viewed from the planet's surface during the late afternoon. It arched over the mountains like a rainbow pointing towards a distant pot of gold.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Wendy asked. "But you should see it at night. That's why I used to come up here."

Lando
had
seen the halo the night before. A part of the ring had been obscured by the planet's shadow. The edge of the lighted area had been reddened by the passage of sunlight through Angel's atmosphere at first; then, as the night wore on, the shadowed portion of the halo had risen higher in the sky. And, about three hours after sunset, the far edge of the shadow became visible as the reddened dawnside rose in the east.

By midnight there was a fully illuminated white ring visible to both east and west, fading into red, and then black to the south. Seen from the top of the spire and unobscured by the surrounding mountains it would be unbelievably beautiful.

"The view's gorgeous," Lando agreed.

Wendy looked up into his eyes. "Was it worth the climb?"

"Well worth the climb," Lando said solemnly, looking at her instead of the halo.

The kiss lasted a long time. It was warm flesh and cold wind all mixed together.

Both were silent for a while after the kiss ended. Wendy spoke first.

"You're lifting tomorrow?"

She knew the answer, but Lando replied anyway. "Yes. Enjoyable though my stay's been, it's time to make some money."

"Some
more
money," Wendy said tartly. "You already have sixty-nine pounds of gold in
The Tink's
hold."

Lando nodded. Wendy was right. He'd loaded the nugget the night before. Mega-Metals used a whole array of surveillance satellites to spy on the settlers. Satellites so sophisticated that they could read a book over your shoulder. But there was a small gap in the coverage between two and three in the morning and Lando had taken advantage of it to load the nugget.
The Tink
was ready to lift.

But was he? He had something with Wendy, but what? And was it worth giving up his profession for?

The smuggler knew Wendy well enough by now to realize that she wouldn't settle for anything less than everything.

The questions brought no easy answers, and besides, there was Corvo to consider. Corvo and Pal both. He should leave before they heard about Weller's World. The message torps might protect the colonists for a while, but Lando fell into a somewhat different category.

Wendy interrupted his thoughts. "Will you join us for dinner? Father would like to talk with you."

Lando looked into her eyes. He saw the same mixture of things that he felt. He smiled.

"Sure, providing that I survive the climb down."

Lando did survive the climb down, but was grateful when his boots touched solid ground.

Wendy had borrowed her father's beat-up utility vehicle for the trip to Elder's Rock. The UV was little more than a platform on four wheels. There were two seats, one in front of the other, and handlebars instead of a steering wheel.

Lando climbed into the seat directly behind Wendy, and held on for dear life as she took off across the plain.

Wendy seemed to delight in tight turns, spine-jarring jumps, and gravel-spewing speed. Lando didn't know it, but she was exacting a measure of revenge for the landing aboard the cargo carrier, as well as their most recent reentry.

It was dark by the time they pulled into the gravel-covered parking area behind Blopar Wendeen's house. It was a low, rambling structure, half underground to conserve energy, and almost invisible against the night. Only the bright rectangles of yellow light served to show where it was.

Gravel crunched under their boots as they approached the back door. Wendy pulled on the old-fashioned string latch and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges.

Lando followed her into an anteroom. It was small, and except for the work clothes that hung along both walls, completely bare. The only light came from a single chem strip on the ceiling. Lando waited for Wendy to open the next door, but she didn't. She looked embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Pik, but to the best of my knowledge, no one has ever worn a weapon inside our house."

Lando nodded, unbuckled his gun belt, and hung it on a peg. He still had the mini-launcher up his sleeve, but figured what Wendy didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

She smiled her thanks and opened the inner door.

Lando felt a wall of warm air touch his face, and smelled a wonderful combination of food and aromatic tobacco. There was a short flight of stairs that led down into a combination kitchen-living room. It was a large, cheerful affair full of improvised furniture, family mementos, and warm colors.

There was light from above, and Lando looked up to see where it came from. A large skylight had been cut into the south side of the slightly pitched roof. It made a perfect frame for Angel's halo, and was also a source of illumination since the ring would reflect sunlight throughout the night.

Blopar Wendeen apologized as he hurried forward to shake Lando's hand. He wore a smile and a long white apron. "Sorry about the tobacco smoke, son. It's a nasty habit… but I enjoy it thoroughly. Thanks for coming."

Lando took note of his sudden elevation from "Citizen Lando" to "son," and wondered if it signaled acceptance or something a little less obvious.

But if the other man's motives were less than pure, there was no sign of it in his handshake or friendly smile. "I hope you like stew… minus the meat of course."

Lando said that he did, and sat next to the kitchen counter, as Wendeen cooked, and told some well-rehearsed stories.

But if Wendeen was an amiable host, he was a father as well, which Lando learned as the two of them sampled some stew. Wendeen took a bite and looked up from the steaming spoon.

"So, did Wendy take you to the top of Elder's Rock?"

Lando nodded. "Sort of. She ran to the top and waited for me to arrive."

Wendeen laughed and scattered some seasonings over the stew. "That's Wendy, all right. She wanted to climb that spire from the time she could walk. Never would've allowed it myself, but her mother had a different turn of mind, and you can see who won."

Lando had wondered about Wendy's mother, but never worked up the nerve to ask. Wendeen seemed to read his mind.

"My wife took a bad fall when Wendy was twelve. We did the best we could, and they might've saved her on one of the inner planets, but she passed away. We didn't have a real doctor back in those days."

Lando nodded soberly. It all made sense. Wendy's interest in medicine, her father's influence, and her strong personality. "I'm sorry."

Wendeen shrugged as he ladled generous helpings of stew into mismatched earthenware bowls. "God gives, and God takes away. That's how it is."

Wendeen glanced towards Wendy, assured himself that she was out of earshot, and smiled.

"Just a word to the wise, son. Wendy likes you. The trip to Elder's Rock proved that. And if you like her too, then well and good. But cause her pain… and you'll answer to me."

Lando nodded dutifully, but wasn't impressed. What sort of punishment could a pacifist mete out? And besides, where the hell was Blopar Wendeen when Lorenzo Pal was molesting his daughter?

The meal went well. Wendeen steered the conversation away from The Church of Free Choice and towards other matters. He had some fascinating stories to tell, and Lando enjoyed hearing them.

Wendy was uncharacteristically silent during most of dinner, glancing from one man to the other, apparently content to listen rather than speak. This seemed strange and caused Lando to wonder where things were headed.

So, while he enjoyed himself, the smuggler was careful to consume only one glass of the wine which was served with dinner.

"Always check the menu to see if you're on it," his father liked to say. And sure enough, more visitors started to arrive the moment they cleared the table.

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