There was a chorus of exclamations from others around him.
Kyle took a breath and let go of the woman. He wasn’t used to the alcohol. “I’m already employed, and that’s that,” he said. “From now on, I’m watching you.” Kyle left the table, a little unsteady on his feet. He made his way back to his cabin, turned on the gyro stick, and worked with it until he felt more sober. A headache came, but he didn’t take any pain killers — he wanted to remind himself why he didn’t drink.
Debbie emerged for dinner, but it was a quiet one, and she didn’t perform any magic. She kept stealing glances at Kyle, but said nothing. Finney was watching both of them, and later, after Debbie had retired to her stateroom, he approached Kyle and asked him how things were going. Kyle told him about the argument, and about the confrontation with the white-haired woman with the fake eyes.
“Why did you wait until now to tell me,” Finney said. “You should have told me immediately. That’s your job, that’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“Sorry.”
“No sorry. There is no capacity for sorry. Don’t do it again.
You tell me anything like this, and you tell me the moment it happens.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll be arriving at Summerland in eighteen hours. I can’t imagine them trying anything on a starship, but who knows. Be alert, don’t leave her sight. I’m going to go bribe the communications officer and try to do some checking on the woman.”
Kyle resumed his place in his cabin, door open, working with his gyro stick and watching Debbie’s door. Every once in a while Debbie opened the door a crack and peeked out at him, then closed the door quickly when he caught her looking. Kyle kept expecting his hair to suddenly burst into flame, or for his gyro to turn red hot in his hands, but it didn’t happen.
Later, when he was cat-napping, Debbie opened her door and slipped out. She took a couple of quick steps across the corridor and into Kyle’s room. The sound of the door closing woke him up.
“You know magic,” she said.
“What?” Kyle sat up, rubbing bleary eyes.
“You know a form of magic.”
“Umm. No.”
“You used it. It was powerful, it was fast, and I want it.”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t believe in magic.”
Debbie whipped out a long, thin blade and put it against his throat. “Don’t play with me. You know what I’m capable of.”
Kyle grabbed the slender wrist of the hand which held the blade, moved it away from his throat, and squeezed until she cried out in pain and dropped it. Enraged, she began changing a spell, so his other hand went to her throat and squeezed, cutting her words off. Debbie’s eyes bugged, her face betraying fear. She couldn’t breathe. “When are you going to learn,” he asked her, “that it’s not wise to make your own bodyguard want to kill you?” He relaxed his hand on her neck, and she sucked down air with a desperate wheezing sound.
“Bastard!” she whispered, gasping.
His face somber, he took her into a bear hug and held her. At first she accepted it, still gasping. Then she began to struggle, trying to break away. He held tight, his arms like bars of steel.
“Let me go,” she demanded. “Let me go! Let go of me! Damn it, let me go! You big stinking ape-man! Let go! LET GO!” She hit, bit, and screamed out, but still he held on. It went on and on, her little fists battering his broad shoulders and back. He held her as she went through hysterics, her curses no longer making sense, her body writhing as if she were in convulsions. The shouts at one point became sobs, and she stopped struggling. She cried in earnest, her arms slipping around his neck, holding on to him as hard as he was holding onto her. This went on and on. It seemed that once she got started, the crying was not going to stop, she had too much pent-up inside of her.
The crying finally slacked off, leaving her limp and quiet.
Kyle thought at first she was asleep, but she wasn’t. He took her shoulders in his hands and pushed her back so that he could look at her, but she wouldn’t look at him. Her eyes were downcast, with dark circles and tear-streaked face. The years had melted away; she looked like a sad little girl, an actual touch of innocence in her expression. She drew a deep, shuttering sigh, finally looking up at him. “Don’t let me go, not now.” Her arms went back around his neck and she held on. He carried her across the corridor to her stateroom, put her into her bed, and then took the space next to her. He held her as she drifted off to sleep. After a while he drifted off himself.
#
They reached their destination, the town of Isbane in Terra Marka. What served as their spaceport was a weedy field at the edge of town next to a couple of hotels. Kyle and Debbie waited in the shuttle as Finney braved the rain and wind to get some rooms.
The three stayed there a few nights while the storm continued.
Debbie’s entourage caught up with them, minus the woman with the shock-white hair. Debbie entertained the group in a big downstairs room with a large wooden table. They feasted in front of a huge fireplace. Debbie unveiled new magic after the meal, spinning cups, glasses and silverware like gyroscopic dancers across the big table.
The locals didn’t approve, being religious and all.
#
The storm finally blew itself out, and the local sun broke through the clouds. It was still very windy, but from what the locals kept telling them this wind hardly ever ceased. A large air barge arrived and they boarded for the final leg of their journey.
It lifted ponderously into the air, turning and flying toward planetary north. It rode with the wind, canceling out the wind-chill factor. It was still cold up on deck, though. Debbie kept below.
The barge carried them up the rocky coast of Terra Marka, passing over steep sea cliffs and peninsulas of tall brown grass that rolled in wind-driven waves. Kyle stood on the deck by himself, leaning against the rail under the large, fluttering white tarp. The old barge looked like it had once been a heavy construction hoist, a huge rusting hunk of metal that should be alien to the air. Its top speed was maybe 70 KPH.
To the starboard side Kyle saw tall, ragged white-capped mountains surrounded by dark-green forests. To the port side was the gray-green sea, still harsh and angry looking. The air was quite brisk, and his breath came out like smoke. His mind felt sharp and clear, and he was strangely exhilarated. Deep seated feelings stirred within him, feelings with no names. It felt as though he was about to tap a great power source and light up like a glow-bulb. He was right on the verge of it.
Reaching the edge of the continent, they passed out over the gray-blue sea and into a bank of fog. The pilot increased their elevation so as to ride over it, and they emerged over a sunlit sea of white mist. The sun made its way slowly across the sky, and Kyle was just finishing a lunch of hot grilled seafood when he had sudden guilt feelings. He was not doing his job. He had not even checked up on Debbie since they’d boarded the barge. Something was telling him to do it now, and in a hurry. Startling the passengers around him, Kyle dropped his plate and bolted for the stairway leading below decks.
The main corridor below was long, wide and dimly lit. He was just in time to see a distant shadow of a figure turn the far corner, way up at the bow end. Right by Debbie’s stateroom. His running footsteps made booming echoes through the ship, and as he rounded the corner he saw the white-haired woman with the mechanical eyes swing on him, snarling. She was right at Debbie’s door, her hand on the handle.
“What do you want?” Kyle demanded.
The woman’s answer was to pull out a lethal dart gun and fire at him. Kyle heard the “thwang!” of the spring mechanism, and felt the dart rushing toward him. The dim light grew even dimmer. Time stretched, like it got caught on something that slowed it down. He saw the blur that was the dart. Tightening his stomach, clenching his fists, he made a low guttural sound, and somehow changed the trajectory of the dart. It angled away just enough to miss him, and even as it was passing he was pushing with both legs, forcing himself through this slow molasses of time and space toward the woman. He reached out, jumping headlong for her. She fired off a second dart in panic, aiming above his head. It passed through his hair nanoseconds before he collided with her, smashing her into the door which gave way. They both tumbled into the room beyond, startling Debbie.