Chapter Forty-Eight
Opportunities are all around you, waiting to be plucked like gemstones from a jeweler’s tray.
—Malbert Nehr, to his sons
Giovanni Nehr was not as skilled as the boys in getting away from the Mutati world. He hid in the marshland for two days, drinking rainwater and not eating anything. Seeing shuttles lift off regularly in the distance, he made his way through swamp and jungle to the edge of the transport station. For most of a day he watched the shuttles taking off and landing. Early that evening, in geostationary orbit high overhead, he saw a bright light, which he judged must be a pod station.
Darkness dropped like a thick black blanket over the land. It was a moonless, starless night, illuminated only by the pod station and the landing lights of the shuttles. Gradually, he built up his courage, and crept across the landing field.
Concealing himself behind a stack of shipping crates, he watched Mutati soldiers supervise robots that were loading a shuttle, using heavy equipment. On occasion the Mutatis came close to Gio, only a couple of meters away, without seeing him in the shadows.
As he watched, he discovered something very interesting. Even when he was relatively near the shapeshifters, they showed no signs of anti-Human, allergic reactions … apparently as long as they could not see him, as long as they were unaware of his presence.
Gio learned something else as well, of even greater significance. From his place of concealment, waiting for an opportunity to sneak aboard a shuttle, he overheard two Mutati officers supervising the loading operation, giving the robots voice commands in Galeng. The pair also talked between themselves about impending military missions against the Humans … stepped-up attacks.
“It’s nothing like the merchant princes have ever seen before,” one of the Mutatis said. “They can’t defend against it.”
“The Demolio program is brilliant, isn’t it?” said the other. “This will be the deciding factor in the war.”
The voices drifted off as the Mutatis moved farther away. When they returned, they were discussing the same subject, but there were no specifics. They kept referring to something called “Demolio.”
Demolio?
Whatever it was, it sounded big to Gio, and he wondered if he could get a reward for tipping off the merchant princes about it. But for his next venture he vowed do more research in advance, so that he didn’t get into trouble again, the way he did with the Mutatis. Always the opportunist, Gio knew there was a great potential for profit during wartime. If he could only escape and take advantage of the situation.…
The loading took the better part of an hour, after which the Mutatis and robots boarded a motocart and sped away across the landing field.
With the shuttle unattended, Gio made his way to a loading hatch and sneaked aboard the craft. Hours passed while he waited inside in the darkness of a cargo hold.
He drifted off to sleep on the hard deck, then awoke hours later at the sound of voices, and the rumble of an engine as it surged on and vibrated the vessel. He hoped the interior air would be breathable when they reached orbital space. Dim light filtered into the hold, making him think it might be dawn.
Gio yawned and stretched. His muscles were sore, and hunger gnawed at his stomach, like a creature consuming his body from the inside out. He felt air circulating in the hold, and heard the whir of fans. The ship lifted off.
In only a few minutes, he felt weightless, then the craft’s gravitational system kicked on. Presently, he heard what he judged to be the sound of a docking mechanism engaging, perhaps at a pod station or space station.
Soon he heard voices again, an angry confrontation outside. Peeking around the edge of an open hatchway, he saw the Mutatis on the loading platform of a pod station, arguing with a pair of pale-skinned Kichi men. The Kichis claimed that the Mutatis had taken their docking berth, and they were quite upset.
“Take another berth,” one of the Mutati officers said. He pointed the forefingers of his three hands to another docking spot, a short distance away.
“No,” the tallest Kichi said. “We reserved this one for a freighter arriving in the next half hour.”
“What difference does it make which berth you get?” the Mutati asked. “They’re all the same, just holding spots until a pod takes us aboard.”
“It makes a lot of difference, you fat pile of ugly. You have five minutes to get out of here, or we’re going to cut your piece of junk loose.” He spit on the Mutati vessel.
Enraged Mutatis surrounded them. But the Kichis activated a long, high-pitched signal, and moments later a throng of them came running toward the platform.
During the wild melee, Gio saw a podship arrive in one of the zero-g docking berths at the center of the station, where passengers were already lined up to board. On impulse, he ran for the ship, but had to pass the fighting aliens to get there.
A Mutati guard spotted him as he crept out of the shuttle, and opened fire with a jolong rifle. Sparkling blue projectiles whizzed by his head, and thumped into the thick gray-and-black skin of the podship. The vessel shuddered.
Gio ran to the front of the line and pushed his way on, out of turn.
“Who do you think you are?” a Jimlat dwarf shouted, after Gio shoved him aside and he fell to the dock.
Ignoring him, Gio found a seat on a bench at the rear of the passenger compartment. A handful of additional passengers boarded, but not the dwarf. Without warning, before the normal amount of time allowed for boarding, the podship hatch closed, and the large sentient vessel got underway.
The cabin wasn’t even half full, but apparently the podship had been agitated by the projectiles hitting its side, even though it would take more firepower than that to harm one of the creatures. Some of the passengers glared back at Gio, but he ignored them.
Noticing a stinging on his left arm, he examined it. Just a flesh wound visible through the torn sleeve of his shirt, with a little trickle of blood. Nothing to dampen the ebullience he was feeling. He had gotten away from the Mutatis, and was free now.