Erica Olafson, Voyages of the Tigershark 07

Chapter 7: Let's Go

This situation reminded me of my first visit to Sin 4. I did not know where I was, brought here against my will. Abducted, stripped of everything I owned. I was once again bare feet, had several blisters and burn wounds. My hair was a mess, at least In didn’t have to go pee. Darn it thinking about it, made realize I actually did.

I was still running across that landing field, not knowing where I was going, but I knew I still stuck out like a sore thumb, being the only pin skinned human.

The field was not littered with garbage and wrecks as the spaceport of Sin 4 was, but it was crowded with mostly smaller spaceships of various origins, tech levels and state of maintenance. There were boxes, bundles, and barrels of wares spilling out from them or being loaded into them.

The loading activity was done by beings, by beasts of burden, robots, and freight handling devices of every type there was.

I attracted more than just a few glances. I was almost certain this was some sort of market place. Some sort of goods and ware exchange.

I was a good runner and prided myself with decent endurance, but I had to slow down. For one thing, a running person attracted more eyes and of course, I was reaching my limits.

I had reached the edge of the landing field and what seemed a shanty town made of tents, makeshift shacks and transport containers of a dozen societies or more, converted into buildings or dwellings of sorts.

Looking back I noticed at least five or six beings following me. One of them raised a weapon, I jumped over a pile of boxes, while a sharp crack and a heavy something shattering the boxes told me that at least one of them was out to kill me.

Dropping to one knee, I took a heartbeat to get my breathing under control, ignored another projectile impact shattering something close to my left and took aim, the line blast hit the running shooter and made the rest dive for cover.

I somersaulted right over the next pile of crates, a calloused dark red hand got a hold of my arm and yanked me under a low hanging tent canvas.

An old Dai looked into the discharge muzzle of my blaster. He glared at me.

“Don’t shoot if you want to stay out of the Man’s hands.”

I eased my finger of the activator, there wasn’t more than a hairs-width play.

“You cut it close mister.I...”

“Shhh!” He put his other finger before his lips and pointed at a pile of fabrics behind him.

“Get under there now!”

More out of impulse than anything I actually did.

It wasn’t a moment too soon. Two or three of those that followed me had reached the tent. I could see them glancing from behind a fold of the smelly coarse fabric.

The first one was a well-armed Dai, but he too wore no glyph and no swords.

“A pale human female came this way. Where is she?”

“I answer not to the goons of the Man, one of you shot into my Gawan-pottery and caused much damage. I want compensation now or I go to the Irwam.”

“You might get shot if you do not speak.”

A huge, non-humanoid being covered with fur, looking almost like an upright walking Fangsnapper and just as big stepped close. He held a cannon like gun.

“The Man goons playing big? The Irwam will not be happy.”

The rest of the men yelled.

“Don’t argue with these Pan-pans. The Union woman is not here, let’s go she can’t be far.”

The threatening goon grunted, eyed the big blaster turned and followed the rest.

The old Dai said to the big non-human.

“Thank you, competitor. I owe you one.”

“I don’t like you Pander-Go, but you are a Pan and I really hate the Man.

“With those words that made not all that much sense to me, the big alien stepped away and was soon out of sight.

The old man said.

“So you are Union, never seen any but I heard much about you.”

I remained behind that pile of fabric.

“Yes, I am Union. I am Erica, and I am not here out of my free will.”

“No one that comes running from a Man ship ever is.”

“There are others that managed to escape?”

“Oh yes, but you are the first female for sure. Or at least since I escaped, forty-eight long times ago.”

“I am still working on that escape thing, I am not out of the woods yet.”

“The Dai raid planets for a good long time, they sell and trade slaves and sentient beings for almost as long and the Man have been doing the business.

“He was still sitting on a coarse fabric cover and what looked like a pillow of sorts while he stared past the tent flaps and the busy paths and alleys of this shanty town.

“This is Jarsumat, which means conjuncture in an old language.”

“Why did you help me, and how did you know I was coming?”

“Someone shooting at my pricey Gawan-pottery got my attention and seeing a half-naked pale female running from Man-goons got my attention. Someone helped me.”

“Yeah, the half-naked part and the pale thing seem to be my biggest problems, on a list of big problems. There isn’t something like a communications hub or so?”

“Let me help you with the first two problems. There are all sorts of ways to send a message. I am assuming you want to contact that Union of yours, right?”

“Yes.”

“There is nothing here. The Dai that come here are not the ones that are friendly to the Union, but there is a Frengo in Paktaru who has connections to the Golden.”

“That will be my best chance then, how can I find this Frengo?”

He pointed to the left side of his tent.

“Oh, about six thousand Gori-Fleeps this way. Straight along the road to Paktaru. It’s a dangerous trip for a traders convoy on the old road, nearly impossible off the old road.”

“Road? Aren’t there fliers or something?”

“This is an old world, Union girl and has never been a Dai world, you do know they are nomads and do not have planets.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I think it is safe for you to come out from behind those Wikti pads. Cover yourself with one and let us go over to Panculag’s tent. He deals with Dance girls, most of them are humanoid and we find you something to wear.”

“You aren’t going to sell me to that Panculag?”

“No, Union Erica, but I think a change of your outfit might help you blend in.”

“I am not much of a dancing girl, but I have to agree, I need to blend in and figure out a way to get to Pactaru.”

Mor-Na was concerned about the reaction of the Elf-Na as he had returned from Hudrin.

He found his Cam still sitting in his command chair, brooding almost sleeping. Starring out the large viewport at the planet below and into deep space.

Without turning Cam Elf-Na said.

“I can feel your tense approach, old Mor-Na. You are the bearer of news I might not like, is that not so?”

“Your senses are as fine, my Cam.”

“Then be Than and speak.”

“The Hi clan will reach Thana Shoo unless we amass our forces now.”

“I am sitting here contemplating this very fact. The Hi clan is not alone, over 1500 his ally clans are with him and we know now for a fact there are Union carriers and several of their battleships. All these are bad news, but these are old news. Where is the Union female?”

“She managed to escape the Wranta-Man and eluded the Han-Man who tried to recapture her.”

“She managed to escape? If she was with the other Daiyee, she was without clothing in a steel cage. How did she manage that?”

“No one knows for sure, the Man who wanted to unload the Daiyee are dead, there is damage to the Wranta. Maybe because she is Laro?”

The Cam turned to his chieftain.

“If she is the living protege of Kai-Da she is as dangerous to all that is Dai, more than the Hi tribe. We must find her. She can be the tool we need to sever that Union shield from our enemy. I prefer to present the Union with a body. Mor-Da she must not reach Thana Shoo.”

“The Man lost her among the tents and stalls of the Pan-Pan. She is without means and will most likely be captured and sold.”

“Then you will be the one capturing or buying her. Take every warrior we have, turn every rock.”

“That will not be easy, my Cam. The Irwam will not be happy about that at all. It is unwise to anger the Irwam.”

“If we fail, it will not matter who is displeased by our actions.

“The Cam put his chin on his fist.

“But I heed your council, for now, dealing with an angry Irwam will add too much distraction.”

Panculag’s tent was a grand affair in an opulent, tackiness style. Bright red and yellow fabric garnished with banners, lights and gilded tassels. It was also quite big for such a temporary structure.

Huddled in the itching and coarse thing Pander-Go called a Wikti-Pad, with one hand on the but of a blaster, I followed the Dai through the tent flaps into an even kitschier interior. Polished brass cage lamps on artfully twisted brass arms, carpets, and rugs covering the floor. A flamboyant Dai, the first fat Dai I ever saw, wearing a flowing almost dresslike garment approached us. That he was of the Dai species I actually only assumed, as he had bright red skin and yellow eyes. His ears were pointed and his hair slicked back.

He wore not a single piece of visible weapon, but every finger adorned with golden rings. He even had a nose ring with attached chains that connected it with his left ear, also adorned with jewelry.

That he was not unprotected became quite clear, by two large non-humanoid guards. I recognized them to be Jakone, both beings were well armed.

The flamboyant, perfumes Dai stopped before us both.

“Pander-Go, what brings a rug and pottery dealer into my tent.

“Panculag did not wait for an answer and seized me up. Not that I see all too much but I think she’s worth a few gold shac.”

“She isn’t for sale Panculag. She needs female attire and she wants to go to Paktaru.”

“Well I owe you for saving my neck and you never wanted anything. So your female will receive the finest things and the attention of a Daiyee groomer.”

The perfumed Dai motioned me to drop the rug.

“No worries, I will behave.”

“You better!”

He almost ate me with his eyes. Then he said.

“A human female, your hair ... Come have a bath and my groomers will tend to your female needs.”

“I am quite certain I can groom myself.”

The fat Dai nodded.

“I am sure you can, my groomers are well trained and female themselves.”

I needed the services and I agreed with Pander-Go that I had to blend in, being the only blonde on a planet where bright red skinned, raven-haired beauties were the norm.

I did take a bath and what the fat Dai called groomers were women with makeup skills. They giggled and coed over my hair and complexion, all three of them found it funny that I was holding to a fully charged blaster the entire time. I felt exhausted and miserable, alone and betrayed. I was not mad at Har-Hi, there were quite a few similarities between his an my culture. However I had seen the division and the injustice that was still rampant on Nilfeheim, he had not. It seemed he had closed his eyes to the conditions that went on in his very own tribe.

I knew Egil wasn’t there and even he did not have the ability to project his thoughts over such a vast distance, but while the women applied a brownish paste all over my body. I was certain I could hear his spirit, telling me to see everything from more than one side. Har-Hi did not hate his father, his mother was still alive and he never had the desire to be female. All this made me see the conditions of Nilfeheim in a different light. Would I have been raised as Eric the Firstborn, never seen my mother beaten to death who could tell what I would see of Lowman misery and the plight of Nilfeheim women? Most likely sitting at the Burgs main table rising tankards of ale and mead blind to anything that wasn’t Clan business.

The paste made my skin many shades darker, it didn’t turn it red. The clothing items they provided me were a mixture of veils and body leather armor. My blonde hair disappeared under a long black wig. The outfit had a weapon belt for my blasters and a single Dai sword over my shoulder.

I was reasonably pleased and was thankful for the kneehigh soft-soled boots. My crew would probably roll over the floor laughing at the red leather things partially covering my boobs. The hooded cape, however, was quite to my liking.

The fat Dai refused any payment from Pander-Go and clapped his hands.

“Spectacular, now the Man will no longer recognize you. Their search efforts will fade.”

“I thank you for all this and it is as much needed as it is welcome. I still must go to Paktaru what is the best or fastest way to go?”

The one they called the Irwam was not Dai, and not humanoid. Too human and Dai eyes it was an six-legged monstrosity with a central column like body and four long tentacles. It also had a pair of long manipulator arms attached to each side of its hump-like upper torso. The Irwam was one of the last Arukiten and one of the three leading species of the Vexpar cooperation.

The pact between the Vexpar and the Dai was almost as old as the Dai itself.

Right here on Jarsumat was the only open connection between the Dai and the Vexpar. The Dai came here to trade and exchange their looted and pirated goods for things they needed.

Jarsumat was a planet of crossroads, of age-old pacts and a thousand legends.

Irwam was not a name but a title and position, but it has been held for over eight thousand planet orbits by the same Arukiten.

No outsider really knew how the Irwam was elected or chosen, but no one questioned the totalitarian power of the Irwam.

The planet had two settlements. One was called the Place of Jarsumat, it was where the spaceport was and where the Dai and their allies would land and do their business. The other place was known as Paktaru, a town, and spaceport for all those who were aligned and associated with the Vexpar but were enemies to the Dai.

The only connection between these two places was a very long and very old road. Part of the old contracts stipulated that no flying machine of any kind was to be used.

Caravans and convoys of the permanent inhabitants called the Pan-Pans were the only ones officially allowed to use this road.

All this went through Mor-Na’s head as he climbed the stone stairs leading to the carved chambers and residence of the Irwam.

He was sure the escaped human female would try to get to Paktaru. Once there she was out of the reach of the Dai unless the Cam decided to break the old pact.

Mor-Na had never been to the other side of the planet, but he was certain the female might be able to get transportation to the space of the Yotenen or perhaps even to the distant Xandrao who surprisingly turned to become Union.

The Jakonen guards apparently recognized him and pushed the entrance plate away. Mor-Na went inside the shadowy moist and warm chamber of the Irwam.

He was a high ranking chieftain to a space-faring Dai tribe and had seen unusual lifeforms before, but the towering utterly alien and quite threatening looking Arukiten always made him feel uneasy. The rumors and whispered stories about the Arukiten were plenty and none of these stories were good stories.

His hand cramped on the butt of his blaster weapon, and like all real Than, he was a walking arsenal. This did give him some needed assurance as always when he had to see the Irwam.

After passing through a series of semi-transparent curtains, that felt organic rather than plastic or any other made fabric he was in the core chamber of the Irwam.

Arukiten were sensitive to bright light and preferred a semi-dark environment. The core chamber was illuminated by the bluish light of computronic screens and red heat lamps.

There were other beings, two more Jakonen guards. Several almost naked, pasty skinned Truntun sitting behind a number of computronic stations and two Pan Pan traders, apparently here to settle some dispute.

He masked his uneasy feelings with Dai arrogance.

“Pan Pan dirt side scum leave! I have business with the Irwan.”

One of the surface peddlers was Dai by species for sure, but most likely never been part of a tribe and born dirtside. He turned and said.

“It matters not if half the Na tribe and their big mother are in orbit, here you are just like us, a visitor before the Irwan.”

The Arukiten, twice as tall as the Dai was not easily described or classified. It was not an insect or an invertebrate, yet had elements of both. It moved on spidery crab legs, had both arms and tentacles. A segmented body and a head that made Kilormerian trench worm look appealing. The Arukiten spoke with a strange voice, it was not created by vocal cords but by squeezing air through small holes on each side of the torso, almost like an old organ like they had in some religious temples.

The result was almost songlike and there was unmodulated sound even between words.

“Envoy of the Na tribe, do you bring the message of war and dissolving all the pacts that kept us on the side of Non-conflict for 988,883 long periods?”

“Of course not, Irwam.”

“Then wait your turn. My attention is equally given to all that come before me.”

The Dai Pan Pan gave the high ranking chieftain an annoyingly arrogant grin and said.

“Warriors of the Han Man disturbed the market, bullied and damaged items. The Pan Pan community expects compensation.”

It turned out the other Dai standing before the Irwam was not a Pan Pan merchant but of the Man tribe.

“We were hunting for an escaped Daiyee and none of the Pan Pan riff-raff was assisting us recapturing that known troublemaker.”

The Irwam flailed the moist air with all of its four whip-like tentacles.

“The boundaries are clear if the Man or any other Dai has issues they come here before me and it is I who decides. Armed incursion into the field of trade and gathering has always been prohibited. Pay the damages and heed the rules. This is my judgment in this matter.”

The Man delegate was not happy.

“There must be hundreds of escapees, hiding among the Pan Pan and every time you rule on their side.”

“It is evident then that your way of keeping merchandise is inadequate. Whoever is accepted among the Pan Pan, is Pan Pan. I have not yet heard a complaint brought before me, where a Pan Pan caused damage on Jarsumat Port side. Should you be able to bring forth any complaint associated with evidence I will rule for the Man.

“We just might refuse to pay, let us see you enforce it.”

One of the whiplike tentacles moved so fast and drove the hard stinger end right through the Han Man envoy.

“This is how I enforce respect and rule in these my chambers. The Han Man will be contacted if they share the sentiment of their envoy.”

The Pan-Pan bowed, slowly moved backward.

“The Irwam be praised.

“He then quickly, just short of running left the innermost chamber.

The Arukiten retracted his tentacle, the dead Han-Man slipped to the moist floor. Mor-Ma with thinly hidden fright noticed dozens of thin white tendrils sneak from underneath the stairs, entangling the dead man and pulling the corpse to a slot between the steps leading to the Arukiten’s seat of rule.

The body did not fit the narrow slot. He could hear the stomach-churning crunching of bones and the wet tearing sound of flesh. Blood was flowing in a sickening torrent down the steps. Moments later the cadaver was gone, with the exception of a few pieces of blood-soaked fabric and personal items.

One of the tentacles was pointing at him.

“Now you may speak. My attention is focused on you.”

It took him a moment to gather his senses and swallow hard.

“Irwam, I come before you with a message and request of the Cam.”

“Then state it.”

“One of the escaped Daiyee is of particular interest to the Cam. She must not reach Paktaru, or allowed to leave this planet on anything but a ship of our tribe.”

“This is not a request, but appears to be an internal problem.”

“The Daiyee has reached the camp of the Pan-Pan and is perhaps hiding among them and might use a convoy of Pan-Pan to travel to Paktaru. The Cam will be grateful and generous for your assistance in this matter.”

“The Irwam cannot be purchased or will make new rules that nullify the old. However, the Irwam will not interfere if that Daiyee is found by your warriors, as long as you heed the rules of the road and no Dai may enter Paktaru. If there are flyers, there will be war. If you use scanners to spy on Pan-Pan, there will be war.

What happens off the street is of no concern of mine.”

“There is only one way to Paktaru. You must travel the road. It is a long road and the reason we Pan Pan exist.

“The old Dai explained as we left the tent of the Dancing girl dealer.

“Old pacts and ancient traditions govern this planet for many hundred thousands of Long time periods.”

Caravans of Pan Pan travel the road. It is a dangerous journey and can only be made in large groups that are well defended.”

“And flying is not possible?”

“When the first Dai families that had no clans and no resources to gain mothers were brought here by the warrior Dai Than, they met members of the Vexpar Cooperation and it became clear, the Dai could not win a conflict against them. This planet had always served as a place of trade to the Vexpar and those who were not Vexpar and so a compromise was found and treaties signed. No Dai Than was to venture ever into space deemed Vexpar and in return was allowed to use part of this planet as a place of trade and business.”

With a black veil up to my nose, the cowl of the cape drawn over my head, I did no longer draw the attention I did before and I was very glad about that.

“I thought all Dai are space-born and they have no planets.”

“The Dai you know will never say otherwise because they simply deny and ignore their existence and give them all kinds of names. Yet they are of the same origin, but those Dai do not hear the call to Thana Shoo and they have no clan association. They do not believe in Than or Okthi.”

“Like everything I ever came across, there is always so much more to it than everyone thinks there is. My best friend is a Dai prince, I spend almost four years in close association. I thought I learned a lot about the Dai. I met the last survivor of a Tribe declared Okthi and learned much about things Har-Hi would not mention because they were Okthi in his mind.

Then I met his father and was exposed to how incredibly demeaning they treat their women and this aspect of the Dai culture is the reason I was abducted and ended up here.”

We had returned to his tent.

“I am leaving for Paktaru tomorrow, and so do many Pan-Pans. You are welcome to join me. The Journey can be dangerous, but is long and boring for the most part.”

I sighed.

“You tried to tell me why we can’t fly.”

“Ah yes.

“He pointed to his sitting pillow.

“You find a similar one behind the Wikti-pads. Sit down and we wait for Slarpa together.”

“Slarpa?”

“A merchant and provider of food. He has a nice selection and is reasonable with his prices.”

“I have nothing in terms of money.”

“No worries, I can afford feeding you, at least for a while.”

I decided not to answer and accept the hospitality and his help for now. I did prepare a seat just like the one he was now sitting on.

He watched me doing it and seemed pleased.

“Paktaru and the Port of Jarsumat have been enemies even before the Dai and the Vexpar came here. Each side had been at war with each other several times. Flying things can carry troops and terrible weapons fast and with little warning. Both sides agreed that if there are no flying things, war would be much more difficult. While it makes not as much sense now, since spaceships can drop all kinds of things on a settlement without any warning and obliterate entire continents, it made sense back then. It is the oldest rule. These rules are more sacred than religion around here.”

Just as he was done a tall and thin bipedal being was guiding a boxy contraption along the paths and alleys of that makeshift settlement. It appeared to be insectoid but had only two arms and two legs.

Pander-Go got up.

“This is Slarpa, it is a Lelemonfre, at least that is how they pronounce it. Slarpa is also an original Jarsum, one of the indigenous people of this world.”

Slarpa used a handheld control to guide the auto dresser sized box on robotic legs, closer. The sides of the metallic box rolled up and revealed covered pots and pans. A bewildering collection of packed and loose items hung from a thousand hooks. Clouds of steam escaped as the food merchant uncovered deep pots.

“My good Pander-Go, how is the ceramic and pottery business?”

“The Han-Man bought the entire lot, they broke it and the Irwam made them pay for it all.”

“That is good business indeed. I bet a portion of my Inshki they also paid for those unbreakable Wikti Pads.”

“I have two of those and a good supply Rebeks. Fresh ones if you please.”

The humanoid two armed insectoid, laddled some kind of thick stew into the big ceramic bowl, Pander-Go had produced from a box.

“Looks like lonely Pander-Go no longer travels alone.

“The being looked at me from tiny black eyes while it filled a second bowl and then handed us an armful of baked breadsticks of sorts. They felt warm and soft.”

Pander-Go slid a small rectangular piece of metal over a device Slarpa wore on its belt.

“It is an old friend of the Nirwa settlement, she made the trip before and she is good with a blaster. Something always welcome on the road.”

“Of course. I am traveling to Pandulag with this caravan myself.

“Slarpa raised his small head.

“Bengon, the Toemp is growling my name into the evening air. I have to heed this call, he is my best customer.”

The fury brute I had seen earlier became visible as it stepped from behind a fence canvas.

“Slarpa, I am starving!”

Pander-Go pointed with a spoon utensil towards the walking Fangsnapper.

“This is a Toemp, very strong, very dependable and like the Lelemonfre a native species to this world.”

He handed me a spoon as well.

I sat down with the hot food and tried.

“It was not nearly as spicy as the stew that came out of the wall dispenser of the Man ship. There were bits of meat and vegetables in a thick yellow sauce. It was eatable.

I too looked into the same direction.

“One is a four-limbed insect with humanoid proportions and the other a mammalian of a completely different kingdom and both sentient beings of the same world?”

“And there you have it, the mystery of the Forbidden Past.”

“Tell me about the road and why it is dangerous.”

“Much of the danger has its roots in that Forbidden Past.

“He was about to tell me when we heard the loud screams for help. Bright lights flashed into existence a few tents distant.

The clanging of swords and the sharp crack of energy weapons. The scream of wounded and the yells of beings fighting revibrated through the twilight of the setting suns.

Pander-Go bolted up, drawing some kind of slug thrower.

“These are the calls for help from other Pan-Pans. I must go when this call is made.”

I got up right after him, “Let’s go!”

Chapter 8 »