Off Center (The Lament) (11 page)

She
was tempted to just shoot him, since she'd seen that kind of dress before. On the
techno-cultists. This man even had on boots that were similar. She held back though,
and waited for him to pass, noting the lumps under his clothing. Firearms. Lethal
things that could kill her in half an instant. Her little rabbit gun wasn't the
equal of those things. Not at all.

Neither
was her flesh. Or that of little Hadis back in town, if the man was going to do
something bad to everyone. No one else seemed to be coming, but the last crew of
these sorts of people she'd seen had run in a large group. This could be their scout,
or, honestly she didn't know. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this kind
of thing.

After
he got past her and about twenty feet down the snow covered path, Pran crawled out
of the brush, trying for silent moving and failing. The man just turned and waited
for her, and when he saw the gun he raised his hands, grinning at her a bit.

"Easy
now. Easy. I'm a friend. No need for that. I just came to see about a situation
here in town that my friend had gotten himself into." The man held very still
however, as if she had a deadly weapon on him. So either he didn't know she didn't,
or he was being far more polite than he really needed to be with her.

"Ah.
What's your friend's name?" She sounded a bit flat, but warmed it up with a
smile, getting a hopeful look from the gentleman in return. He was a bit younger
than Paul, at a guess. Perhaps in his mid thirties? He didn't take her smiling as
an excuse to go for a weapon, so at least that part worked.

"Well,
that's the hard part, you see, I might have been a bit generous, calling him my
friend. I guess it would be closer to say that I'd heard he had some materials and
I wanted to buy them. I did hear he was in trouble. Something about child rape?
The message was none too clear, but that was about two weeks ago, maybe three now.
I'm supposed to just come in and clear it out. I suppose the company sent you to
make sure I'm not skimming?"

Pran
shook her head, but then smiled again, hoping she was playing the whole thing correctly.

"You
didn't get word? Crap. Okay, we need to get out of here. We have an airship, but
not a lot of time to explain. What kind of shape are you in? No wounds? After the
attack I mean?" It was a risk, but she held the air-rifle up at the sky and
started to walk the other way down the road. At first she was afraid she might be
shot in the back, but the man actually started to jog after her.

"What's
happened? We didn't lose another base did we? Crud, these people's Special Forces
are
good
. I tried to tell the Major that, but no, our Special Forces are
supposed to be miracle workers. You..." There was a close look at her then,
and narrowed eyes. "Your accent is pretty good. Are you one of the locals?"

Pran
didn't know what that meant to this man, so shrugged.

"Sort
of. It depends what you mean by that. Right now I'm here to help you. As for the
base, we might be talking about the same one. It's hard to know. The Guardians are
going to be here in about an hour. We have two of them on the ship, so you'll have
to get into something less noticeable. I might have to steal some things for you.
Then the Captain will pretend to hire you on. Be nice to the Guardians. People here
are polite, and a little afraid of them. Also, stay the hell away from the Judge.
She's good looking, but will strip your secrets faster from you than if you just
went and confessed." She kept walking, making decent time. The crunch of their
boots started to move in time, so she pointed down the path a bit and let him take
the lead.

When
she got about five feet back, she suddenly started to walk backwards, not making
her own prints at all, and got off the road in time to come around from the right,
just as the man started down the road that would take him right into the airfield.
The campsite from the night before was right there too, so she managed to grab his
arm and pull him toward her.

He
yelped.

"Hey!"
Then he managed to be wide-eyed at her, as she covered her lips with a mitten.

She
waved him to the mouth of the thing and smiled.

"In
here. The Guardian I was with already came back. She clearly left this up for me,
but she took the main pack. There should be..." She laid on her stomach and
moved into the dark space, coming out with the second pack, that had the food and
some matches in it, as well as the her two oil slicks. "Yeah, there's some
food in here. Dried, but not bad. I'll go get you some clothing. Get ready to lie
your behind off. Claim that you were passing through and just wanted to know if
you could get passage in exchange for work on the ship. We'll run a sob story."
She grinned at him and winked.

The
man grunted once, but smiled back and climbed into the little hut, playing with
the remains of the fire almost instantly.

"I
heard about the ship stuff, but didn't think you were all that well organized. I'm
Zeke. Ezekiel. I used to be a Captain, in the Marine Corps. I doubt that means anything
to you, does it? Now I'm with the Company. You?"

"Pran.
Bard Pran. No last name."

The
man didn't even think that was strange it seemed, just turning to play with the
fire more. Pran waited for him to stop paying attention and walked away, heading
to the ship. She had some clothing to get after all. That or help.

Mara
and Clark weren't standing at the door of the ship like she thought they might be,
and as soon as she got there herself she worked out that they were actually behind
her, with their kinetic pistols drawn already. They didn't point them at her, so
they didn't seem to think that she'd instantly turned into a traitor or anything
like that. If it were a play or a story...

Well,
it wasn't.

If
it had been something like that at all, then her ploy to bring the obviously out
of place man in the woods in would have been a trap by the other side to get an
agent on The Lament, or something stupid like that, as if her random encounter could
have been worked out in advance by anyone else? Still, the Guardians were waiting
for her to speak, and holding there large clunky slug throwers down at the ground,
ready to fight whoever might be following her.

"Did
that man send you with a message?" This came from Clark, and was a deep and
foreboding statement, if ever she'd heard one. The man looked incredibly uneasy
too, as if he thought that Zeke, or whatever his name was, might be setting something
up already. Mara just stared at her.

Which
meant they looked baffled for a second when she rolled her eyes at them and faked
a goofy looking grin.

"What,
you mean the new floor washer I found in the woods with almost no clothing on in
the cold? That man? Why would he have a message for us?" She waited, but for
some reason her friends didn't seem to think she was being half funny enough. They
didn't even groan or boo her attempt. Dead silence was almost always a bad thing,
from an audience. She decided to change things up then, and actually tell them what
was going on. "I told him that we, he and I, are infiltrating The Lament and
that something has happened that he might not have heard about. I haven't said a
lot about that. I'm currently sneaking back here to get him some clothing that won't
stand out like his does and possibly a sack to hide his fire-arms in. He didn't
try to attack me at all, and if he has half a brain he'll be expecting me to come
back with you two for an ambush. So..." She didn't like the idea but took a
deep breath and blew it out anyway.

After
a bit she forced another grin.

"So,
I'm going to actually do all that stuff and see about bringing him back here, if
he hasn't already taken off. I would have. I mean, what are the odds of him randomly
meeting some girl in the woods that's on his side?"

Mara
looked at her funny and nodded after a bit.

"I've
been wondering about all of this for a while. What are the odds of
us
having
run into any of these things? Infiltrators on The Lament? It's a good ship, but
nothing special really. It isn't like Clark or I stand out in the Guardian ranks,
and no one else does either, in their own way. Good and hard working, but not people
to watch in particular. The closest we have to anyone special is you, and there
was no way for anyone to know that you'd be coming along nearly two years ago when
Dovish was first put aboard. We know that this isn't the only ship though."
She glanced at Clark, who suddenly looked hard in return.

Pran
could see it too, since it was the only thing left, wasn't it? Either they were
in the center of a coincidence that was vast in its scope or...

"They're
everywhere, aren't they? They've worked into everything somehow. Each little village,
every ship. We can't really know who they are. It-" She went dead silent and
then looked at the slightly muddy snow at her feet. "We need to find out more
about this. I'll see if I can lure the man in. Do we take him prisoner or get him
a job on the ship and try to gain his trust?"

She
didn't know which was the right thing to do, but Clark did, looking out at the tree
line.

"Gain
his trust. You'll have to do it. The others we've taken, Dovish and Tammy, they
haven't talked. They've given us a bit of information, to try and stop the pain
we put them under, but nothing useful to us. The word is that torture hasn't been
useful yet at all. So we need to do something no one will expect. Stop and step
sideways, as their eyes track to the front."

That
got her to shrug, and smile again.

"Okay
then, I'll go and sign some things out. I don't suppose you two can talk Captain
Mina into taking this man in for a bit? I don't know how to do that plausibly."
She just didn't even if she, personally, were there in a similar fashion herself.
Thankfully Clark just turned and walked off, which she figured meant he had something,
or at least was going to get Mina to help a bit.

Mara
turned too, but caught her left arm and suddenly pulled her toward the large white
ship, meaning she had to take a few quick steps to prevent going down. It was abrupt,
but the Guardian acted like she didn't notice that part, and they jogged to get
the things from the storeroom. It was mainly just clothing, and a very old and almost
too worn canvas sack.

"For
your new friend, to hold things in. Are you up for this Pran? We could just lock
him in a cell, when he gets here. Just because it didn't work on the others..."

"Yeah."
The word came out in a whisper. She wasn't afraid, but that didn't mean she really
thought she'd be up to pulling something like that off for certain. The drugs wouldn't
help her there, would they? Then she faked a bland attitude, and made sure the clothing
was all in the large bag, which she slung over her shoulder, the light tan fabric
soft from years of use and hundreds of washings. "Or at least I'm willing to
try. I don't think this one is like Dovish or Tammy. I think he's one of the
military
ones that the others spoke of in the woods. He said something that made me think
that. If we can't get anything from the regular people, then his part will be harder."

It
had the feeling of being reasonable at least, so Pran didn't wait for an answer,
just walking to the door of the ship, down the warm hallway. The ship was always
toasty when the engine had been running and they had been all night. She really
wanted a shower while the water was still hot too, if she could get one. The one
nice thing about her new hairstyle was that it only took seconds to wash. That meant
she could have a whole minute under the hot flow of water instead of desperately
trying to rinse her hair like the others had to. One of the perks of being her,
she realized.

At
the door, Mara stopped her with a hand on the shoulder that didn't have a sack slung
over it.

"I'd
say be careful, but since this will probably end up with you dead anyway, I doubt
that it's going to help. I can't say that I love the idea of throwing a young girl
at the problem, but Clark has the right of it. We need to do something that these
people won't expect. We might," She paused and looked around, then leaned in
to whisper, her lips close enough to the side of Pran's face that she could feel
the moisture of her breath. "We have to assume that there are others on the
ship. Spies. It could be anyone. Even one of us. Clark or I. Or you. Keep that in
mind. If anyone approaches you, you'll need to be ready to act like you're on their
side." She walked away then, since one of the crewmen, an older man who Pran
knew to be a drunk, at least in port, came by.

He
smiled at Mara's behind, and then winked at Pran when he realized he'd been caught
looking.

"You
know, there was a time when a fine woman like that would have actually noticed me.
Probably as she put the restraints on me to take me off to jail for drunkenness."
He seemed pleased with his own joke and didn't stop, but Pran, thinking about what
Mara just said, answered.

It
never hurt to be friendly after all.