Read The Secret of Spring Online

Authors: Piers Anthony,Jo Anne Taeusch

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Life on other planets, #Magic, #Epic, #Wizards

The Secret of Spring (22 page)

"You mean bail?" Spring asked.

The counselor handed Herb the appearance ticket with a schedule date and the fee amount. Herb blanched white. "That much?" He passed it over to Cling Ling. "I have enough to cover our expenses, Cling, but I can't meet this."

Cling Ling shook his foliage. "I regret I cannot find sufficient funds to cover it either." They looked at
Spring
.

"Well, don't look at me,"
Spring
said. "It took everything I had to pay my fare on the lightship. I have reserves on New Landers, but that would mean going back in person. I'm sure Zygote has a watch there. Anyway, most of it is tied up in legalities since Father's death. It would take time."

Herb frowned. "We don't have that either."

"If I may suggest?" said the counselor, handing them a small card. It read: THORN AND THISTLE-PERSONAL LOANS.

"A loan. That's what we need," Herb agreed. "Quick. We need a
communiline
to call them."

"Would they lend us that much?" asked
Spring
, doubtfully.

"Ahem." The counselor cleared his throat for attention. "Mr. Moss's father is not unknown in this community. I feel confident his name would suffice to secure your fee payment." He smiled ingratiatingly.

"That's right. Your father. He's rich, isn't he? Why don't you just call him?" Spring asked.

"Because I don't care to explain how I landed in jail for stealing hot cars," he snapped. "Not to mention what's happened to Lily."

"Oh. Yes. I see your point,"
Spring
said, biting her lip.

"I agree for other reasons," Cling Ling said. "The fewer others we involve in this hopefully temporary history, the fewer loose ends we have to contend with upon return. However-"

"Then get the loan quick,"
Spring
interrupted.

"Mistress Moon-" Cling Ling said.

"Please, Cling. We have no more time to waste," Herb agreed.

"I shall be honored to handle the transaction for you, Mr. Moss," the counselor said, smiling his oily smile and rolling out of the room.

"I can't believe it's that simple,"
Spring
said with a sigh of relief. "We're actually getting out of here."

"Yes, and I won't even have to pay back the loan when we return because all of this will be erased," Herb said.

"Herb, I must speak with-" Cling Ling began.

But before he could finish, the door opened and the counselor returned in the company of a shady looking
Treeple
. Perhaps that wasn't a fair assessment,
Spring
thought, considering most
Treeple's
natural appearance. She was later to have more faith in first impressions.

"This is Mr. Thorn," their counselor said. "Because of the considerable amount of the loan involved, he wishes to consult with you in person. If you will excuse me?" He rolled out, securing the door behind him.

The
Treeple
leaned across the desk and spoke in a raspy voice. It could have been natural, or it could have come from an addiction to raspberries. Herb frowned and began to wonder what sort of company they were dealing with.

"Why should I fork over three G's on a bunch that's going to skip planet?" he asked.

They all looked at him in surprise. How could he possibly know they were planning to leave?

Spring asked, "How did you know that?"

The
Treeple
snorted coarsely. "One of my boys did a deal with the bush face, over there." He jerked a branch toward Cling Ling. "Got him a unique vehicle, you might say."

"I thought you looked familiar," Herb said, remembering the
Treeple
from the garage.

"My cousin,
Leafty
. There's a slight family resemblance. But I digress. You're on the wind-you're blowing planet. I can't hand out three goldenrods when I may never see them again. Mr. Thistle wouldn't like that."

"But we'll repay you. We're good for it. We just don't have it at the present time,"
Spring
pleaded.

"I know. Herb's old man is
goldleaf
. Why not ask him for it?" Thorn asked.

"I have my reasons," Herb answered, avoiding eye contact.

"And goodies they are, no doubt. So it's like this. You need G's, and you need them fast."

"Right," Herb and
Spring
said together. Cling Ling said nothing.

"I know you're good for it. But who says you'll return?"

Spring opened her mouth to protest, but the
Treeple
held up a branch.

"No offence, Little Blossom. In space, there's no guarantee. Ah shucks. Maybe I have soft roots, but there might be one way we can deal. Something that wouldn't upset Mr. Thistle. You wouldn't even have to pay us back."

Herb and
Spring
looked at each other in amazement. It was too good to be true. There was a Founder looking out for them.

"That is, you wouldn't pay in goldenrods. Our firm would accept a small service for the fee."

"Service?" Spring said, wrinkling her forehead. "I don't know. What sort of service?"

"Do we have a deal?" he pressed.

"First, tell us what the service would involve," Herb said.

"Deal or no deal?" he repeated as if Herb hadn't spoken. "My final offer."

"Deal," Herb said, quickly.

"Herb!" Spring and Cling Ling chorused together.

"What choice do we have? We have to get to the space port. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than losing Lily," he blurted in anguish.

"True,"
Spring
agreed. "I'm not sure I like this, but what else can we do?" She looked at Cling Ling.

Cling Ling only shrugged, being outnumbered. He had tried to warn them about these Loan Barks, but they wouldn't listen. Now, the decision had been made.

"You've done the smart thing," Thorn said with a prickly pear smile. "I'll pay your fee and take you straight to the space port in my Traveller. We can discuss everything on the way," he continued jovially, slapping Herb on the back with a hearty branch. Spring shrank back from his grasp, but went along meekly. Cling Ling rolled glumly behind them.

It went like clockwork. Thorn's fast transport took them straight to the waiting
Txnghc's
ship with a minute to spare. The pilot was clearly relieved to see them. They were aboard in no time, sacked up and cringing for take-off.

It was another gut
wrencher
. Several woozy stomachs later, they were idling in Drift, getting set for the time warp to the future they had left behind earlier. Cling Ling and the
Txnghc
were in conference, calculating their destination to the nth degree. No one wanted a repeat of the last fiasco!

Everything had moved so fast, they hardly had time to discuss their bargain with Mr. Thorn, but it seemed simple enough. All they had to do was deliver a small package to planet Snowball. So called, because the temperature never rose above zero, and the entire surface suffered constant blizzards.

Herb wasn't thrilled about going there, but it turned out to be only a hop and jump from
Kamalot
, so distance shouldn't present a problem. Indeed, the
Txnghc
ship seemed at its most adept when flying in hops and jumps. Herb's stomach was still doing somersaults.

He knew Cling Ling had not approved of the transaction, but it seemed a small enough task in exchange for their huge Assurance fee. The package was actually a small, thick, metallic container like a square bucket, which felt rather warm to the touch.

When
Spring
inquired the nature of the package, Thorn had only replied that it was a valuable shipment of perishable goods. That was why it was necessary to find a quick means of delivery and why he was willing to take their service for the fee. The goods had been prepaid so all they needed to do was deliver it.

Perhaps it was a gourmet feast for some rich snowman, Herb mused. He hoped it was nothing illegal, but asked no more questions lest he discover it was. It was none of their business, and in any case, the deal had been made and they were stuck for it. Herb secured it at the bottom of his sack to keep it from careening about the ship during take-off.

Spring sat at the side, talking to the diplomat. He had returned in this time frame, although they had already delivered him to his home to be, uh, delivered. Some birthday. But that would be corrected as soon as they
timewarped
properly this time. She knew Herb had no desire to see those ants again, even though he had come to no harm. Reasonable or not, insects bugged him.

Cling Ling stuck his leafy face down the hatch from above. "Sorry to delay, but we had to be certain of our coordinates this time," he explained.

"Here, here," concurred the diplomat. "Popping in and out of my mother's womb is an unnatural act, to say the least. Hopefully, this will be my last attempt."

"Warp out in ten
minsecs
," Cling Ling said, shutting the hatch.

Everyone sacked up. Spring helped the child into his, and then slid inside her own. Herb checked them both before climbing into his, scooting well down to the bottom.

"
Yeow
," he yelped, leaping back out and grabbing for his burning feet.

Spring watched as Herb hopped ludicrously around the small room.

"Hot foot," he yelled in explanation, flopping down upon the floor to peel off his smoking socks.

Spring was already out of her sack, looking to see what had caused his sudden leap. A smoldering hole was burned through the end of his sack, and there across the way where it had slid, was the container with its lid ajar. It must have popped open. She bent over it to peep inside,
then
let out a piercing scream.

The top hatch was flung open immediately, and Cling Ling slung himself down the short ladder. "What's wrong? It's almost time for warp-out."

"Look,"
Spring
cried, pointing
a
shaky finger toward the glowing container. "Squiggly things." Herb had limped over beside her at the scream, and held her protectively in his arms.

The young diplomat was at their side now, peering down into the open box. His eyes opened wide as he looked back to Herb. "My stars," he cried. "You've got a bad case of the HOTS."

Herb stumbled as he released
Spring
and backed away, coloring deeply.

"Yes,
it's
HOTS, all right," he said to Cling Ling. "I have seen these once before on a dead planet."

Cling Ling looked closely. "Yes. I agree. They are Hybrid Oxalic Taproots," he said in horror.

"Hybrid Oxalic-Oh. HOTS," Herb said, realizing the diplomat had not been commenting on his behavior with
Spring
after all.

"I've read about those in some of the material Herb sent me about plant life on P#23. Aren't they extremely dangerous?" Spring asked.

"Dangerous hardly describes them. What do you suppose killed that dead planet where I saw them?" he asked. "They must be properly contained or they will bum right through this ship. There is hardly a more acidic substance in the universe than HOTS."

Herb could vouch for that. He had touched it for only a second and his scorched feet were barely cooling off.

Cling Ling raced back up to consult with the
Txnghc
pilot who had been busy with the final machinations of the controls. He rolled back, slinging a thin metallic sheet over the HOTS box. It was a sheet from their Cold storage, he explained, and should help to cool the box until they reached their destination. Once there, it should be safe enough, since the freezing temperatures would be in their favor.

"No wonder Thorn was willing to take this delivery in lieu of our debt,"
Spring
said, looking aghast at the smoke curling up from beneath the sheet.

"He did say it was perishable," Herb said.

"Not as perishable as us," Cling Ling said. The ship gave a preliminary shudder. "Hurry and sack up. The warp-out's beginning," he shouted, flinging
himself
back through the upper hatch and slamming it tight.

Everyone was inside sacks, waiting. Herb's
sockless
foot stuck through the hole at the end. Luckily, he had removed his shoes or he would have no footwear at all.

He should have known there would be a catch to it for that much money, and he had literally put his foot into it this time.

They warped. The noise was deafening, the speed incredible. It was indescribable. The nearest analogy Herb could find was a vision of ten nets balls banging inside an ancient washing unit at
translight
speed. The
group of them, of course, were
the ten nets balls. As suddenly as it began, the ship was spit out and splashed down into an icy sea. They had arrived on Snowball.

Cling Ling quickly joined the others in inspecting the shipment of HOTS. They had ceased smoking, and that was encouraging. Using the end of the Cold sheet, Cling Ling secured the lid and lifted it by the handle, carrying it out through the hatch.

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