Chapter 21: Jak
At dusk, Jak and the women headed for the docks. They walked single file, staying to the less used ways, not speaking, just three shadows passing through the dying light. Jak was in the lead with Kamura between him and Tessa. Tessa had done a good job of disguising the Terran, and he was sure that, at a distance, she’d pass for a boy. She certainly looked nothing like the elegant aristocrat she’d been the first time he’d seen her.
But she really did have the power to make decisions for Family Mobutu, just as she’d said. Moments before they left, she’d used Tessa’s com to transfer the remainder of the credits and ownership of the Morgan-Haruka to an off world holding account. All they had to do was to survive long enough for one of them to go in person to a secure bank and provide the password, and the ship and the credits were theirs.
Easy enough to say, Jak thought as they crossed the edge of the market. Much harder to do. A few late vendors were closing their stalls, some packing their goods in small carts, others pulling down heavy shutters. Wary of being noticed, Jak skirted the more successful merchants who left their goods in place with armed guards to watch over them until morning.
They each carried a small bag of clothing and provisions, and Jak also carried the heavy water bottles dangling down his back, six of them strung together with rope around the necks. He had a belt of soft cloth wrapped around his middle, under his vest, and it was stiff with Tessa’s bracelets, half her hard-earned treasure. He’d tucked one of the blasters into the belt at his back, hidden under his open vest, and wore a more visible knife tucked into the front. Tessa wore a matching belt tied around the waist of her shift, with the rest of her jewels sewn inside it. The simple white shift was slit knee-high on the sides, revealing the soft boots she wore under it. Covered with a short, lightweight blue cloak, she might pass for a farm wife. They’d given Kamura a knife, too, although it was mostly to help with her disguise.
The Terran, Jak noted with mild surprise, hadn’t protested carrying her share. He thought that she and Tessa must have had some kind of meeting of minds while he was gone, but he’d sooner wade into a school of banderri than ask them about it.
He paused and held up a hand to halt the others as something moved in the shadows ahead. Jak relaxed as the mobbie Alpha stepped out from an alley into the dim light of the waning moon Liss. The boy had found a new tunic and a pair of knee-length pants to wear. He’d also cleared the trash out of his nest of unkempt hair, combed it, braided it, and tied it back. Jak could see that the boy had been hiding regular features and intelligent eyes under his bird’s nest of hair. He was still barefoot and dirty, but Jak thought he might actually pass as one of their party. Tessa’s servant boy, maybe, if he’d play along with the role while they were in view of the crew.
"So, you made it," Jak said. He hadn’t been sure that the Alpha would be able to evade his pack.
"Made it," the boy agreed. "Now Mice and Kishee can decide who leads."
"Who is this?" Kamura asked.
"This is . . . this is . . . ." Jak realized that he couldn’t continue to call the boy Alpha. He needed a name. "This is Toko," he said. It was a common name, short, and easy to remember. "He’s going to be Tessa’s helper." He looked at the former mobbie to see if he approved.
"Yes, Toko. I help the lady." He smiled a wicked and feral grin. Jak resolved not to leave the newly christened Toko alone with either of the women.
"Oh," Kamura said, understanding at last. "This must be—"
"Toko!" both Jak and Toko said in unison. "And that’s all that anybody needs to know," Jak added. If she started talking about mobbies to the crew, they were going to have trouble.
"Very well," she snapped. "Can we get moving now? Or do you plan to add still more people to this ridiculous entourage?"
Behind her, Jak saw Tessa roll her eyes. Jak made Toko take the bundle that Tessa had been carrying. If he was going to pose as her servant, he could start now. They continued toward the barge. He saw Kamura’s straight nose wrinkle in distaste as they reached the dock reserved for compost barges where the stink of rotting vegetation mingled with even less pleasant smells.
There were three barges tied up at the dock, big, square flat-bottomed vessels, more like rafts than ships. Jak shook his head as memories of other craft, ships built for water, not space threatened to drown him. Now was not the time, he thought as he gritted his teeth against the other lives that nearly overwhelmed him. Sweat ran down his back as he forced the memories away, forced himself to remain in the present. But when he looked at the barge, he knew it was built of reinforced cement. He knew the technique. He knew the style. Hell, he could have drawn up plans if he’d had a writing board.
The barges reinforced cement hulls were chipped and scratched, but their decks were tidy. Only one was loaded and ready to leave. About thirty meters long by twelve meters wide, the deck was stacked three rows high with square baskets of compost, waste from the Great Market mostly, each basket two meters on a side. The baskets were set like bricks, in a running bond pattern, with half a meter between each to allow air to circulate between the hot, still-decomposing compost. Jak looked up at baskets towering almost three times his height. This was going to be one hot, stinking, trip.
There was no name painted on the side of the loaded barge, just a faded design of stylized waves, but Jak was sure it was the Serena. The barge would haul the load to villages upriver where the crew would trade the compost to the small farmers along the way for fresh fruits and vegetables to sell in Tekena. Then, they’d do the same on their return trip to Namdrik. At least, their journey would smell better as they neared their destination.
"You expect me to travel on that?" Kamura demanded, gagging.
"Yes, and you’re damn lucky to get passage," Jak growled.
Yes, it was dirty and it stank, and it was no fit place for Tessa. Yet, it was one step closer to getting her safely off Shadriss.
They’d arrived as men worked to harness the lamnan that would haul the barge away from the dock and along the river. Four of the huge, gray lizards hissed and uttered deep, rumbling groans of displeasure. But the handlers knew their business, and the sturdy neck and body harnesses were fastened around each of the three pair of legs and buckled into place. Jak set foot on the gangplank, and a sailor moved to stop him.
"Hey! You can’t come here!"
The protester was a young man, thin but with the wiry muscle of someone who worked hard for a living. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of faded blue pants that ended at mid calf.
"We were promised passage," Jak told him.
"This is a cargo barge. We don’t take passengers," the bargeman argued. "It’s against the Regent’s law."
Jak drew a deep breath. Graff n’Chall might not be named Overlord, but he did his best to control every aspect of life on Shadriss. Passengers who bought passage on the official transports were required to show identification and were listed in the databases.
"We paid passage, and we’ve come for revenge," he said, using the password the Alpha had given him.
The man’s attitude changed. His scowl was far from welcoming, but he knew them now. He pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped his sweating face and neck as he looked around to see if anyone was watching them.
"All right, then. My father told me about you. Come aboard quickly and get in the cabin."
They hurried to obey.
"Down here."
They were hustled along the side of the deckhouse and to a small cabin toward the aft end of the barge. The reeds that made the walls were spaced far enough apart to allow light and air into the cabin. That the light was dim, and the air was far from sweet smelling, were small concerns.
"In here," their guide said. "Don’t come out until we’re well downriver. And don’t come out at all if one of the Regent’s cutters is near."
A cutter, Jak thought, half-
repressed memories of ships and shipbuilding still with him. One mast, a couple of sails, and a dozen armed men on permanent duty. Not something they wanted to take on.
Glancing around the room, he saw a simple cabin with bare wooden benches on three walls, each just long enough to lie down on. A couple of bone hooks by the door gave Jak a place to hang the water jars. He dropped his bag of provisions on the nearest bench. Kamura’s face was blank, as if she were trying to take in more than she could handle.
"Where are my credits?" Toko demanded as he dumped Tessa’s bag next to Jak’s. He held out one lean, brown hand. "You owe me three hundred."
Jak was sure the boy would cut their throats in their sleep if he didn’t pay him. He just might do so in any case. Sighing, Jak fished in his vest pocket and brought out a small leather bag that held three of the green squares. He held it out to the boy and rattled it gently.
"Here, but don’t get greedy. That’s all there is."
Toko laughed. "This is plenty, yes?"
At least the Red Bone pack had gotten a good meal out of the deal. Toko probably had the other two hundred on him. Jak wondered where the rest of the pack was and whether they knew yet about their leader’s defection. The sooner they were under way, and far beyond Red Bone territory, the safer he’d feel. Toko tucked his credits into a pants pocket and perched on the bench to the left of the door of the cramped little cabin. Kamura took the bench opposite the door. Jak wasn’t sure he liked having her so close to the former mobbie, but it wasn’t as if there was a lot of room to maneuver.
"So, what do you plan to do with all that money?" Tessa asked Toko as she and Jak sat together on the remaining bench.
It was a small fortune by mobbie standards. Hell, it was a nice chunk of change for anybody—except Kamura. It also represented a significant part of Tessa’s savings. All she really had left were the bracelets her customers had given her. Still, the ship and the credits Kamura was paying would more than replace them. Toko just smiled. For someone so young, he had a very evil smile.
"You’ll see," was all he’d say. His dark eyes gleamed in his dirty face as if he were savoring a private joke.
Jak felt a shiver run up his spine. The damn kid was spooky.
"Where’s Mice?" he asked.
Toko shrugged in reply but looked uneasy at the mention of his little brother’s name.
"You could have brought him along."
Mice was his brother, his family. Jak might be a clanless, nameless stranger, but he knew how important family and clan were on Shadriss.
The boy shook his head. "Can’t bring Mice. Mice is all mobbie. He’ll never leave the pack."
"How do you know? You didn’t give him a chance."
"You’re a Big One; so you think you know everything," the boy said with scorn. He wriggled around until he was sitting cross-legged on the bench. "Mice was a baby when we joined the pack. He doesn’t know how to live with Big Ones."
"And you do?"
"Sure, yes. I remember how Big One’s live." He smiled that evil smile again. "And I’m going home now, to my uncle."
Kamura said, "I’m sure he’ll be happy to find you again."
Toko laughed. "Happy?" He shook his head. "He said to kill us, me and Mice. ‘Kill the boys,’ he said."
"What?" Kamura exclaimed.
Jak ran his hands over his face. It was going to be a long trip. Tessa leaned toward him and gave his arm a comforting squeeze. He pulled her close, something he normally wouldn’t do. But it had occurred to him that without the bracelets that she’d always worn almost as armor, she was no longer a Hired Companion. She was just a woman, and he was just a man, a man who loved her more than his own life. And she needed him. She needed his protection now. If they survived this journey, she needed him to pilot her ship.
"Oh, we were orphans, me and Mice," Toko told Kamura. He’d slid down to the end of his bench that was closest to the Terran girl. "But our Uncle wanted our credits. Inheritance, yes? He told our nurse to kill us. Only Trish loved Mice." He smiled that sharp edged smile again. "Not me, only Mice. Uncle said to leave us in the desert, but Trish wanted to take us to Namdrik instead. But the aircar crashed in the Waste. Mice and me were only hurt a little, but Trish was hurt bad." His eyes grew dark with remembering. "We were close to Namdrik. Almost safe. Then bam! Trish died. But first, she told me to take care of Mice. So, I did, yes?"
"But you’ve abandoned him now," Jak pointed out.
But he didn’t much care about the mobbie, but he wasn’t comfortable with Toko being so close to Kamura. Still, Tessa had leaned into the curve of his arm, her soft hair brushing his chin. Unless Toko physically attacked the girl, Jak wasn’t going to do anything that might make Tessa move away from him.
Toko shrugged, and his eyes brightened as he put away old and ugly memories.
"Can’t look after him forever. Mice can take care of himself now."
"If Kishee doesn’t kill him," Jak said.
Toko laughed. "If Mice doesn’t kill Kishee. Mice doesn’t talk much, but he thinks a lot. Kishee’d better be careful."
He actually seemed pleased at the prospect of his little brother and Kishee fighting for control of the Red Bone pack. But Jak would bet that not even Toko himself knew which of the two mobbies he wanted to win the battle.
He felt the barge lurch as they cast off, and the lamnan on the towpath leaned into their harnesses. They were underway at last. He listened, but it was hard to make out what was happening outside. He heard the creak of ropes, the wash of water, the high cries of night birds, and the deep rumbling of the lamnan as they pulled the barge. But mostly, he was conscious of Tessa, of the warmth of her slender body next to his.