Festina nodded. "It explains what brought the Shaddill into this whole mess — when the High Council found out about the expose, the robots did too. They immediately reported to Shaddill Central."
"Hey," Uclod said, glaring at the two machine people, "do you think these ratchet-brains killed Grandma Yulai?"
My friend shook her head. "If your Grandma Yulai was sentient, the Shaddill couldn’t kill her. More likely, the murderer was sent by real human admirals."
"Bastards," Uclod said.
"Utter ones," I agreed. I had spent much of the past few minutes massaging my numbed arm, trying to wake it up. An unpleasant pins-and-needles sensation had begun to twang through the muscles — most uncomfortable, but any feeling was better than none. Meanwhile, I told Uclod, "We shall bring your grandmama’s killer to justice, all in the fullness of time. For now, however, we must deal with the Shaddill… who are also utter bastards, and much closer to hand."
"Good point," said Festina. She got to her feet and called, "Bell! Where the fuck are you?"
Some distance away, I heard the crackly sound of gristle popping. Lady Bell had obviously folded up again, to protect herself during the fight… and she had remained in that position long after the fisticuffs ended. So much for Aarhus’s claim that Cashlings were excellent kick-fighters. It seemed they were simply cowards.
"What do you want?" Bell’s voice asked weakly.
A moment later, she came into view — hobbling most ostentatiously, as if she were desperately injured. Ihad no intention of inquiring what was wrong, but my Faithful Sidekick asked, "What happened to you?"
"The stun-grenade," Lady Bell answered, a theatrical quiver in her voice. "It caught my right foot; I’m sure it shut down at least one of my hearts and three whole lungs."
"Stunners don’t interfere with hearts and lungs," Festina said. "Otherwise, they’d be lethal weapons, wouldn’t they?"
"Are you implying—" Lady Bell began, but Festina cut her off.
"Don’t start. Just ask the ship what the conditions are like outside the airlock."
I expected the lady to whine in protest… but for once she did not argue. Instead, Bell muttered a few words in Cashlingese; a moment later, the gusty ship-soul voice answered with a rapid-fire report that would have interested me greatly if I had understood a word of it.
At last, the ship-soul stopped speaking. "Well?" Uclod asked.
"We’re inside the Shaddill vessel," Lady Bell said. "In a big hangar with lots of other captured ships. Nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere — almost the same as we’re breathing now."
"And the temperature?"
Lady Bell called to the ship-soul, got an answer, and said, "In human measurements, thirty-four degrees Celsius."
"Toasty," Aarhus grumbled. "We’ll all end up sweating like pigs."
"Speak for yourself, Viking boy," Festina said. "Where I come from, thirty-four is a nice spring day." She looked around at the rest of us. "Care for a walk outside?"
"I wish to locate the Shaddill," I said, "for I have not yet punched anyone in the nose." My right arm was clumsily able to move on its own now — the fingers felt as weak as worms, but I trusted the debility would pass. I am excellent at speedy recuperation.
Uclod said, "I wouldn’t mind kicking some butt myself." He turned to Lajoolie. "How about you, honey?"
The big woman did not answer. Her eyes and nose were still runny, and her face had a look of haunted guilt. I do not think she found any consolation in knowing the creature she destroyed was only a robot; she had thought he was a living than when she struck him, and her act of violence weighed torturously upon her mind. Perhaps she even realized one other thing — with a few blows of her hand, she had crushed a gut made of metal. How much more damage would she have done to mere flesh and blood?
"Lajoolie does not wish to kick butts," I told Uclod, "and she does not have to. The rest of us are fully capable of handling dangerous situations."
"Sure," said Festina, laying her hand on Lajoolie’s arm, "if you want to take it easy for a while—"
"What?" Lady Bell interrupted. "You’re just going to let her play coward? If you get in another fight, you’ll say, ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter if the strongest person on our side hides in a corner, we don’t care if wewin or lose so long as we don’t hurt someone’s feelings!’ "
The Cashling was only saved because Uclod and I jumped toward her at the same time. The little orange man bounced against my shoulder, knocking me aside and knocking himself the other way; before we could converge again, Festina and Aarhus had stepped in to stop us from ramming Lady Bell’s head through any orifice it would fit.
"We don’t have time for this!" Festina snapped. "You two," she said, pointing at Uclod and me, "back off. You," she said, pointing at Lady Bell, "shut the fuck up. You," she said, pointing at Lajoolie, "you I trust to do the right thing if it becomes necessary. Even if it means using your fists again. Got me?"
Lajoolie hesitated a long moment, then nodded silently. Her eyes were rimmed with red.
"Fine," Festina said, "we have an understanding. Now let’s get moving."
She headed for the airlock door, with Aarhus striding at her heels. As Festina passed the robot of Admiral Macleod, she stopped and picked up the stun-pistol that had fallen from the android’s hand. The sergeant nodded approvingly.
Lady Bell lingered sullenly behind for a count of three; then she must have realized she was standing within arm’s reach of Uclod and me without anyone near enough to intervene if hostilities broke out. She hastened most speedily after Festina and Aarhus.
Uclod took one of Lajoolie’s arms and I took the other. Together we guided her forward. When we reached the airlock, Nimbus was already there, hovering in a foggy ball above everyone’s head.
"All right," Festina said, "time to attack an entire shipload of hyper-advanced aliens on their home turf." She sighed. "Why I love being a goddamned Explorer."
"I too love being a goddamned Explorer," I said, proudly fingering my black jacket.
"Oar," Festina said, "you’re a total fucking lunatic. Fortunately, that’s exactly what we need." She waved a hand at Aarhus, who was standing by the airlock controls. "Push the button, Sergeant. Immortality awaits."
23: WHEREIN I CONFRONT UNPLEASANT TRUTHS
Lady Bell’s Personal Limitations
The door of the airlock opened — and the first thing I noticed was dirt. The smell of dirt, loamy and cloying; the sight of dirt on the ground, dark and glinting with flecks of minerals; the feel of dirt in the air, gritty and humid and hot. Festina, standing in the airlock doorway, took a moment to inhale the deep soil scent… then she threw herself outside and assumed an aggressive posture with pistol in hand, quickly scanning the area for hostile forces.
After five seconds, she gestured for the rest of us to join her. We clambered out into dank sluggish air that pressed most tepidly against one’s skin — all except Lady Bell, who remained shuddering in the airlock.
"What’s wrong?" Festina asked her.
The lady replied, "It’s horrid!"
She stared at the area surrounding us. It had the appearance of a vast tropical mud flat, simmering in twilight just after the sizzling sun has gone down. It even had some kind of foliage — not close to the ship, but off in the distance, clusters of trees and undergrowth rose high from the soil. Farther away still, dirt-covered walls towered up, up, up; in the dusky light, the top of the walls disappeared into shadow, but I assumed that far overhead there must be a roof closing us off from the vacuum outside. We were, after all, inside the stick-ship, even if this great chamber was so huge it seemed like out-of-doors.