RK crowded in close as Becker examined the objects, stroking them, turning them, trying to chip a piece off one with a rock hammer. The stones had a strange feeling to them-a sort of hum, as if they were alive. Maybe they were. Damn, if these were sentient life forms, he’d have to take them back. He was going to have to check this out with an expert. He dumped the rocks back into the collection bag.
There wasn’t much else to do, so he slept again. When he awoke, it was to find RK standing on his chest. Becker thought the cat must have been sleeping on his arm, because his right hand tingled as if it had been numbed from the cat’s weight. His right ear felt funny, too.
That was when he realized what was different about the cat. Two green eyes blinked back at him, the good one and the one RK had lost in the crash. The cat’s right ear was also whole and perfect. At that point the cat stood up, stretched itself halfway down Becker’s leg, and stuck its tail in his face. Becker was stunned to see that the tail had straightened out, lengthened to a luxuriant and elegant appendage, and now waved quite handsomely. Below the tail, well, yeah, that missing part had returned there, too.
Becker lifted his own right hand and saw that the stubs of his fingers had regrown. His hands looked just as they had before he’d come into contact with RK-maybe minus the odd scar. He touched his ear. That felt whole again as well. What in the name of the three moons ofKezdetwas going on here? How could this have happened-not that he was complaining. The only thing he could think was they’d run into some kind of healing force on that derelict planet. If the planet was capable of this kind of miracle, it was no wonder somebody had wrecked the place looking for the secret. As soon as he sold some of this cargo and reprovisioned-he was getting tired of cat food-he was going right back there to see what he could find.
“Mercy, Roadkill, when we get to Kezdet we’re both gonna be so damned good lookin’ we’ll have to watch out they don’t snag us for the pleasure houses.” Not that he didn’t intend to go there straightaway himself. And he’d take Roadkill with him.
Hell, they didn’t call those places cathouses for nothing. Must be a lady cat or two around there would appreciate the attentions of a handsome space traveler like his buddy.
The trip back was real pleasant. For one thing, the cabin and hold didn’t stink. Not even a little bit. Becker had to keep looking around to make sure Roadkill was still aboard because the whole ship had stopped smelling like cat piss. It was a smell you got used to, but it was nice to get used to not smelling it. For another thing, they were making really good time, even though they had been traveling vast uncharted distances from theirwell, Becker’s-home world.
Theophilus Becker had been much more than just a junk dealer-er-salvage broker. He was a salvage broker, a recycling engineer, ant) an astrophysicist. Jonas’s new master, who liked to be called Dad, was also just a tad on the reckless side. The man liked nothing better than riding the wild wormhole, finding the quirks in quarks. He’d known how to detect those places where time and space pleated up, accordion-style, to be shot through for a shortcut by a spacefarer with the guts to use them. Jonas had learned a great deal from Theophilus.
So it was a matter of only a month or so before Becker, with RK trotting along beside him like a dog, showed up in front of his favorite bawdyhouse. A girl he didn’t recognize came to the door. She was fully dressed in a long-sleeved coverall fastened clear to her neck, not the attire he was accustomed to in this place.
“Oh, Lord, not another one,” she said.
“You don’t sound glad to see me,” he replied, smiling. It had never been customary to bring flowers or any other greenery here-just a few hundred credits and the courtship was complete.