fine,” she said, and saw FitzGilbert frown,
“Why there?”
Neilenn gave her an uneasy look. “I thought it would be more convenient, if Dam’ Heikki wanted to talk to the people in meteorology….”
“She can talk to them from headquarters,” FitzGilbert said. “You can arrange that, can’t you?”
“Wait a minute,” Heikki said. She smiled at Neilenn, made herself hold the smile as she turned to FitzGilbert. “I’d just as soon leave things as they are. There are people—not just corporate people—I’ll need to see in the city.”
FitzGilbert hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “If that’s what you want, fine. But the headquarters complex is much—nicer—than the hostel.”
Heikki kept smiling, perfectly aware of the other woman’s real meaning. The hostel would, of course, be perfectly comfortable, even luxurious; Lo-Moth could afford nothing else, for the sake of its own prestige. But it was still in Lowlands, still on Firster territory, and therefore, by definition, inferior. “I’m sure it’ll do fine,” she said, and looked to Neilenn. “I’d appreciate your help in arranging transport.”
“Of course, I’ll have the car brought round,” the little man answered hastily, and fumbled with a touchpad sewn into the pocket of his jacket. “Dam’ FitzGilbert, your car is at the door.”
And that, Heikki thought, with an inward grin, puts us in our place. FitzGilbert nodded perfunctorily, and strode off, her long straight coat snapping behind her like a flag. An interesting woman, Heikki admitted, reluctantly, maybe even a striking one … but I’d give a lot to know why she’s angry at the world. “Let’s get moving,” she said aloud, and stooped to adjust the antigrav unit attached to the nearest crate. The crate rose under her expert touch, and Nkosi slid the autopallet forward neatly, centering it beneath the crate. Heikki touched controls again, returning the crate to a weight that would keep it stable on the pallet, and stepped back as Djuro repeated the process with the second and third, smaller, crates. The entire procedure had taken little more than a minute.
“Dam’ Heikki, sers, the car’s here.” Neilenn blinked nervously up at them.
“Will it be able to take our equipment, or should we arrange for storage here?” Djuro asked.
Neilenn glanced at the pallet. “Oh, we can tow that. Just a minute, I’ll arrange it.” Without waiting for an answer, he scurried across to a multi-screened kiosk, and ran his hands across its shadowscreen. The screen above lit, displaying the face of a man in a hat badged with Lo-Moth’s logo. There was a brief conversation, conducted in a voice too soft for the off-worlders to hear, and then Neilenn blanked the screen and came back, a faint and satisfied smile on his face.
“All set,” he said. “If you’ll follow me?”
The heat beyond the aqua-glass doors was stifling. Heikki winced, the sweat pearling on her body—this was the part one always forgot, the damp heat of the afternoon—and heard Djuro swear under his breath. She glanced back, and saw him pull the hood of his shirt up over his thinning hair.
“Here we are,” Neilenn announced, and pointed to a vehicle drawn up against the edge of the low walkway. It was a typical ho-crawl, squat and broad-beamed, a closed passenger cabin mounted awkwardly in what would normally have been the front of the cargo well. It was the sort of dual-purpose craft that was common on the precinct worlds, slow and unspectacular, but immensely durable either on or off the existing roads. At the moment, it was configured for on-road travel, its wheels, six sets of three soft tires, each group arranged in a triangle, retracted into the wells while the idling fans kicked up a lowlying cloud of dust. Lo-Moth’s logo was painted on the side of the front-mounted engine housing.
“You said you needed a tow, ser Neilenn?” That was the driver, levering himself out through the window of the driver’s pod so that his forearms were resting on the cloth-covered roof.
“That’s right,” Neilenn answered, but the driver didn’t seem to hear him, staring instead at the off- worlders.
“Heikki? Is that you, then?”
Heikki frowned, trying to place the suddenly familiar face. “Dael?” Time had dealt kindly with him, done little more than thicken an always stocky body, and add a scattering of white to his sun-bleached hair. They were much of an age, had become good friends in the two years just before she had gone off-world.
“My God, it is you.” Dael pulled himself all the way out of the pod, still disdaining the use of the door, and
Heikki couldn’t help smiling at the compact strength of the movement. He moved around the nose of the ho-crawl, swinging his hips clear of the hot engine block, and came forward to greet her, at the last moment changing what might have begun as an embrace into an extension of both hands. Feeling suddenly awkward herself, Heikki took his hands, very aware of unfamiliar callouses. From the expression on his face, Dael was feeling the same awkwardness.
“My God,” he said again. “How long has it been?”
“Years, I think,” Heikki answered, and saw a sudden withdrawing in his face. “It is good to see you, Dael.”
The tension vanished from his smile, and in the same instant, Neilenn made a soft, unhappy noise through his teeth. Heikki glanced toward him, recalled to the business at hand, and saw, behind him, a bank of clouds rising out of the southeast. They loomed up over the low-roofed port buildings, their solid shapes turned a bruised purple by the full light of the westering sun. The wind was changing, too, she realized in the same instant, swinging around so that it was blowing from the heart of the rising storm.
Dael had seen it, too. He eyed the clouds appraisingly, then glanced at the equipment-filled pallets. “We better get loaded up and on the road before that breaks. I’ll drop the wheels.”
Heikki nodded, and Nkosi said, “I will take care of the hookup—if that suits you.” He was looking at Dael as he spoke. The Iadaran looked warily back at him, glancing sidelong at Heikki for her verdict before answering. When she said nothing, he nodded twice, a little too vigorously.
“Thanks. I appreciate the help.”
Nkosi nodded, and moved toward the towpad.
“Does this happen often?” Djuro asked, and jerked his thumb back over his shoulder at the swelling clouds. Heikki bit back a laugh, and Neilenn cleared his throat.
“Almost every afternoon,” he said, and frowned up at the sky. “Though this does look a little heavier than usual, I must say. We should be moving out.”
“What about the pallet?” Djuro asked. “Will it be secure?”
Neilenn looked at the driver, who nodded. “If the weighting’s right, it should do.” He glanced back toward Nkosi, still inspecting the towpad, and called, “Stand clear.”
Nkosi straightened, and Dael leaned back into the ho-crawl, manipulating the controls one-handed. Servos whined, clearly audible even above the noise of the fans, and the wheels came down until they just brushed the paving. He cut the fans then, and the ho-crawl settled heavily, the suspension sighing in protest.
“It should do,” he said again, staring at the numbers on his narrow repeater screen.
Djuro looked as though he would protest, and Heikki said quickly, “It’ll be fine, Sten.”
The little man grimaced, but said only, “Then let’s get going. It looks as though that storm is coming fast.”
Dael levered himself back into the ho-crawl and popped the main door. Neilenn lifted it the rest of the way, and gestured for the off-worlders to enter ahead of him. Heikki started toward it, and Dael called, “Why don’t you ride up front with me?”
Neilenn’s back stiffened, and Heikki said hastily, “I’d like that.” She looked back at Neilenn, forcing a smile so as not to offend. “I used to live here, I knew Dael when I was a kid.”
Neilenn swallowed, visibly remembering that she was a company guest, and nodded. “As you wish.”
Heikki nodded, and reached in through the well’s half-open window to trigger the interlock. It was a gesture of old habit, so old that she could no longer consciously remember the reasons for it—and then she did remember, all the old stories about bandits and the need to keep jungle vehicles secure against them, back before the company had tamed Iadara. Neilenn laughed, the sound making him seem suddenly younger.
“Are you a Firster, then?”
Heikki hesitated, the door already half open under her hand, then shook her head. “Not really.”
In the same instant, Dael said, “Near as makes no difference, she is.”
