I peered at the information on the surface. “Is this new?”
“Just discovered. Mario and his crew are still searching for Others nests. They haven’t found any, but naturally there exploring new systems in the process. They've found a few more planets that were hit by the Others, and some other planets that hadn't been yet, but probably would have been soon enough. This particular one is… well, just read it.”
I reached across her and paged down through the summary. I could feel a frown forming on my face been, then deepening as I continued to read. “Is this for real.”
“Unless Mario has suddenly developed a warped sense of humor, yes. This might turn out to be the weirdest ecosystem I've ever seen. And remember, I've seen Quilt.”
I flip the pages up and down a few times, then grinned at her. “Shades of Flash Gordon, this could be fun.”
Bridget laughed in reply. “I've asked Mario to create us a full space station and autofactory in the system. While he’s on that, I'll use his spy drones to get some prelims. We'll have to do a lot of research on this one. Maybe even more than with the Quinlans.”
“Wow.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Flying monkeys.”
“Not monkeys.”
“Close enough.” I closed the window. “This is going to be your biggest blog subject ever.”
20. Moving On
Bob
August 2334
Misty Falls
“We need to look in your trunk, sir,” the cop said to me.
I stood frozen for a second, trying to decide if I should make a break for it.
Teresa's voice cut through the silence. “Why in particular, would you need to see the contents of my trunk officer?”
He turned to her, surprise on his face. “Your trunk?”
She gave him an arched look. “Do I look like I can carry that thing around on my own? I've paid him two coppers to porter for me. If you keep us too long, the captain will have to delay departure.”
“Oh, um… and you are?”
“I am Teresa Cycorski, lady of the University of Peach Land.”
The cop stepped back, abashed. And I couldn't blame him. This was the first I'd heard that Teresa had a family name, and a well-known one, apparently. That she hadn't thrown it in Snidely's face showed an amazing level of restraint. But meanwhile, the cops were almost falling over themselves trying to placate her. She gave them a sniff, and gestured imperiously for me to follow.
As we marched away, I muttered to her, “You could left him some fur.”
She laughed and stopped. “Let that be my parting gift to you, Enochi. I hope I might someday learn more of your world. And of my world, for that matter. Goodbye.”
I said goodbye and headed quickly down the nearest street, trying not to choke up. I have a whole six irons in pay for my time on the Hurricane. With the two still in my stomach, I was a wealthy man.
Okay, not man - Quinlan. Okay not wealthy either. I can survive for a few days, if I had to pay for a hotel. Like it or not, I was going to have to get back on a boat. Quickly. But I couldn’t go back to the dock now - the cops would certainly remember me and the trunk. I could change my appearance, but not the trunk.
Or could I?
I tried to remember where the shipping office was. I'd seen it out of the corner of my eyes as we left the port area. Quickly, I played back the video archive until I found it. I headed back toward the dock, taking the long way around so that the shipping office would be between me and the cops, assuming they were still maintaining watch. On the way, I gradually changed my appearance, using features from random pedestrians to produce a mashup that shouldn't resemble any one individual. I just hoped I was getting it right. I couldn't take out my spider to get a selfie. If people screamed and turned away, I’d have to start over.
As hoped, the shipping office sold shipping containers. At one iron a piece, they weren't expensive or high quality, but the idea wasn't high security - it was to hide the contents. A roll of eyelets around the lid allow the user to essentially tie it shut, as with a shoelace. It was good enough. The clerk wanted to sell me postage as well, but I initially demurred, since I would be traveling with the package. Still, it was probably better to do things the normal way. Finally, I paid the three irons, then filled in the tag with just my name and Garrick's Spine. But I insisted that I would deliver the box to an appropriate boat.
“Knock yourself out,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.
I headed back to the dock, shipping container held awkwardly in both hands, and stopped at the dock master's office.
“Good day, sir,” I said to the person at the counter. “Could you tell me if any ships heading down river are looking for deckhands?”
Counter guy I glanced at the container in my hands with a frown. “Uh, deckhands? Or postal run?”
“Both. I have a package that I have to send downriver as well. Killing two fish with one spear. Doesn't have to be the same boat.”
He nodded, satisfied, and gave me a couple of names.
Explanation notwithstanding, I wasn't going to put Bender on a different vessel. I had to hope the boat looking for help would also take an extra shipping container. I thanked him and headed for the indicated berth.
The Clipper was somewhat less barge-like than the Hurricane had been. It even had a below-deck area fit for habitation. If you didn't mind crouching a little. It also appeared to be in a state of chaos. People were running around while the captain screamed orders with the same volume and enthusiasm is Lisa's best work.
I watched for about five seconds, simply
