Chapter 16 Varok
VAROK
It was, I decided, the best disaster to befall me in my career. I lay with the human female curled up against me, the hard and cold metal of the dining table against my back a perfect contrast to the delightful soft warmth of her. What had I done to deserve such luck?
Luck, you call it? A grim voice in my mind gave me a much-needed reality check. Trapped in an abandoned bunker on a dying world. Limited food supply, limited heat, and a technologically superior foe hunting us? If not for her, you’d be clear of this planet and rich.
I didn’t argue. It was all true, but it paled into insignificance when I gazed at the human. Penny looked so calm and peaceful there, her head rising and falling with my breath.
“We are where we are,” I muttered to myself. “There’s no point in trying to change that or wasting time figuring out who to blame. Better to enjoy the time we have.”
And we tried. It helped that the vibro-showers still worked, so we could get clean. And it didn’t hurt my morale that we’d ruined Penny’s dress beyond repair. While she grumbled about that, I caught her smiles too.
It couldn’t last. Danger always lurked behind the joy we found. Our food supply was already running low, and we had no idea how long the power would last. And then what? When we ran out of supplies, would our newfound closeness keep us from each other’s throats?
The human protein bar was dense with nutrients, but with every meal I watched the foodmaker’s readings tick downward. It would last us a few more days. Then we’d need a new plan.
Penny’s news was no better. Every time she sent her drone up to scan the spaceport, she came back with stress plain to see in her tense muscles and too-bright smile.
Nothing changed. The other guests hadn’t left yet, the Collectors apparently unwilling to compromise the spaceport’s security to let them return to their ships.
Two days later, we had a moment of excitement when the forcefield deactivated.
It lasted until we saw the hovering fleet of robot guards replacing it.
They looked like faceted gemstones, but they were the deadliest jewels I’d ever seen.
According to Penny’s drone, they each carried enough power to disintegrate a city block.
Penny plotted the gem-droids’ movements on the hologram map she updated every time her drone went out. Her intense glare and tight lips told me she didn’t like what she saw.
“That is a clever fucking trap,” she said at last, pushing back from the table and scrunching her eyes shut. I pushed a cup of what she’d dubbed ‘coff-ish’ into her hand and she drank a gulp, grimacing. Clearly, that recipe required more work.
“They’ve put their gem-droids on semi-random paths,” she explained. “Look, they keep drifting apart just enough that it looks like there’s a way through. Close enough to risk it and hope you get lucky…but you never would.”
I followed the icons on her display, watching gaps open and close. My turn to grimace. “That would have caught me. It might yet, if I get frustrated. Some of those gaps look wide enough to try—are you sure we can’t get through?”
“I can’t say for certain, but assuming the gem-droids have decent sensors, they’d spot us. My guess is that when the gem-droids detect us inside the port, they’ll pull up the forcefield again and trap us.”
“Void take the Collectors, then. How long can they keep this up?”
“Again, I can’t be sure, but probably forever?” Penny held up her free hand at my answering growl. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger! But those gem-droids don’t need much power. More likely, their time limit is how long they can keep the other guests prisoner.”
That gave me a glimmer of hope. “Those VIPs aren’t the type to sit back indefinitely. So we wait for an escape attempt and take advantage of the distraction?”
“Unless something else comes up, yes.” Penny’s eyes sparkled and she downed the rest of her coff-ish. “Speaking of things coming up, any suggestions for something to do while we wait?”
I chuckled and pulled her to me, frustration forgotten.
Neither of us having a better idea, we stayed put in our shelter and waited for something to change.
Fortunately, we had discovered an excellent way to pass the time, and our improvised bedroom saw a lot of use.
It would have been smarter to conserve calories, but one glance from Penny’s sparkling eyes, one crooked little smile, and ‘smart’ gave way to need.
Three days later, the foodmaker finally gave an error message I couldn’t override.
“What the fuck is ‘vitamin heshk?’ Do we even need it?” I smacked the side of the offending machine and scowled at it.
The flashing red warning icon ignored my objection, and only Penny’s gentle touch on my wrist stopped me from hitting the machine harder.
“I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter,” she said in a low, careful voice. “Maybe not. But it was in all the food we’ve eaten, so we might. Our real question is: can we get some?”
I grumbled half-heartedly, more because I felt I should than any disagreement. Pushing that aside, I tried to distract us both.
“You can get some whenever you like, Penny.” I turned to grin at her, letting my desire for her show and enjoying the flush that rose in her cheeks at my innuendo.
“True, you’re feeding me plenty of vitamin D,” she said, smiling past her deepening blush. It took me a moment to get her joke—the play on words didn’t work in Galtrade, but her glance down made her meaning clear. “It doesn’t help us feed the foodmaker more heshk, though.”
I laughed, perhaps louder than her joke deserved. Certainly with more mirth than our situation deserved. “Fine. I shall find whatever this heshk is, and then I will ‘give you some.’ It seems likely it’s in the local foodstuffs, so I’ll bring back anything I find.”
Penny’s face twisted like she’d tasted something unpleasant. “This planet’s dying. The odds you’ll find something to hunt aren’t good.”
“I have no other ideas. Besides, there were plenty of those predators. They have to live on something.” Of course, in hunting their prey, I risked becoming prey myself. I decided against pointing that out.
Penny gave a reluctant nod. If she noticed the flaw in my argument, she didn’t want to discuss it any more than I did.
“I guess you’d better get going then,” she said, frowning. “The longer we wait, the hungrier you’ll be.”
My turn to grimace. “Yes. Soonest started, soonest finished. I don’t like to leave you here alone, though. Perhaps you should come along?”
Of the options I could have proposed, that was apparently the funniest. Penny doubled over, gasping for breath. “Sure, take me out there where I’ll freeze, distract you, and blunder around frightening any prey you find. No thanks. We’re both safer if I stay right here.”
“You are so irritating when you’re right,” I said. “Fine. I’ll go alone.”
I meant every word, but that didn’t make it easy.
Gathering what little equipment I’d scavenged—an improvised spear made from the metal support of a bed, the sharpest knife from the kitchen, and a bag to carry my prey back in.
Reluctant to be parted, we kept running back to each other until I finally ascended the cold stairs and, with a final glance back, stepped out into the icy wasteland.