It was testimony to the lung capacity of Klamathans that Louba was able to sigh so heavily in midflight. “Stick a hat on me butt an’ see if I thinks better that way.” She leapt over the third box of assorted chocolates. “I feels a right lumpuck.”
“They roast lumpucks, don’t they?” inquired Chlorda, slapping at flames in her hair as she ran.
The four contestants fled deeper into the forest, taking full advantage of the canopy of broad green leaves. The shelter wouldn’t do much good for long; each fugitive could see the smouldering holes in the leaves as they rushed on under the wailing lop-eared owls. Not one of them doubted that the Emperor had intended all along for them to come this way. Bott felt that to refuse to fall into this trap would only upset His Imperial Worship.
“All you have to do,” he told himself, “Is make it through this. Then you can retire and live on your reputation for the rest of your days.”
Pretty soon, though, his crew would look to him again for answers. Nubry’s book could carry him only so far. How could he choose between doors if there were no doors to choose?
“Ove here!”
Seeing what Bassada had seen, they swung as one in that direction. Smoke was building up around them: if nothing else that big square well might clear their throats.
“Is it a door, do you think?” Chlorda peered down inside. “Someone jump down and find out.”
“Try it yerself.” The blue was climbing on the wall of the well, but only to get farther under the little roof provided over the top. “Tell us how ye likes it.”
There wasn’t room for all four of them under the little tin roof. Bott looked around for any sign of doors it would soon be impossible to see. The only thing to be seen beyond smoke, leaves, and trees was the well, its stones all marked with carved pictures of Nastrid snails.
Not snails. He frowned. This was a message. He’d never seen that symbol before, but he was recognizing it. Maybe it had been a picture in Nubry’s….
His hand went into the grenade satchel, but came up without the book. He looked from the stones to the horn he’d picked up earlier, the malachite one. He shrugged, and brough it to his lips.
The Klamathans looked to each other, Chlorida shuddering at the sound that came from the horn. “Perhaps his people play a dirge before they’re melted into…lala!”
Everyone jumped left and right from the shelter they’d been elbowing to ge into. Long glass spikes shot up from the well. “Good thing we didn’t any of us try it!” said Louba. “We’da…well, kick me sister and listen if I yells!”
The spikes sat on the roof of a long glass case sliding up before them. A door swung open just as the spikes pierced the tin roof.
“I can pay anything when I’m sober,” Bott told them, setting the instrument back into the satchel. “And I haven’t had a drink in three days. Let’s go!”
The smoke had thickened; there was nowhere else to go. The Emperor was easily wealthy enough to burn down an entire forest and then replace it.
Bott knew some regrets as the four of them squeezed into the glass elevator/ Chlorda pressed his shoulder, whispering congratulations/. The blue stood right behind him, rubbing the seat of his pants. A pinch on his left thigh told him Louba was not going to be left out.
“Crew,” he said as the glass chamber started to slide down into the well, “You know we’re here because nobody has been waiting for the captain’s orders before acting.”
Green shoulders shrugged. “Ain’t easy, cap’n. Cep’n these bits o’ batbait, ain’t had a cap’n since afore I got inta this rebelment business. Me last cap’n wouldn’ put me up fer promotion: said I was too green. So I killed some people.” The big green shoulders bounced again, setting off more bounces around the room. “Mosta her fambly,as II recall. Never knew she’d be so attached to ‘em.”
Bott scowled, ignoring the fingers trickling along his spine. “Well, we’re going to have to take this more seriously if we plan to escape.”
The gold smiled and shook her head. “You do understand, Captain, that His Imperial Wormhips doesn’t intend for us to win this game.”
“We have a chance until he actually kills us.” Bott looked away from the horned skulls peeking in through the walls of the case. “And we should be able to go on for quite a while yet. He wouldn’t let the game end early.”
He found himself surrounded by soft shrugs. “Been here days now,” said Bassada, dealing one buttock a solid squeeze. “Not so bad a life: always sumpm ta do. We c’d stay on and be traps fer what prisoners he sends in next.”
“Until they get tired of feeding us,” said the gold, sliding a hand down Bott’s chest.
The blue continued to give a good workout to what she had hold of. “Anyway, even if we gits out, we gots a whole Drover ta git troo. Even if we does it, where’s we goin’ next?”
Bott glanced down to make sure Chlorda’s fingers didn’t catch in any of the holes torn in his jacket. “That woman you saw—the real one, not the one who went down the ravine—was escaping Imperial forces with…with a special cargo on her ship.” He looked over his shoulder at his crew. “That ship is waiting at the end of this maze.”
Louba grabbed his head and gave it a hug. “Bite m’thigh an’ call it measles! Cap’n Bottsy knows it all!”
Chlorda rubbed one of her cheeks against Bott’s, nudging the green arm out of the way. “Do you honestly believe we’d be allowed to try anything with your friend’s ship?”
The skulls outside the case had given way to exceedingly large Bialfa fireworms. Bott shook his head free and considered his crew again. “I’d as soon be killed in her, escaping, as in this maze.”
The faces around him showed affection, but little conviction. Bott thought it over and added, “The ship has carpeting on the floors.”
Bassada tipped her head to the left. “Does it got…stuff onna ceilin’s we could hang swingy-swings from?”
Bott tried to remember, even as he said “Of course!”
“Sold!” cried Louba. “Ya doesn’t even hasta fly it!”
His crew seemed to be all fingers and lips. Bott wondered if they had squeezed all the breath out of him permanently when the lights went out. Then his nose caught the acrid burnt egg smell peculiar to fireworms.
“I don’t suppose you could arrange to bring that ship of yours in here,” said Chlorda, pulling away from him.
The car stopped descending. “Gotta motivate this thing.” He could feel Louba backing away. She put one hand on each of his shoulders.
“No! Wait!”
The case shuddered under the impact as she came down from her leap. It seemed to work. Bott felt himself moving down again. Then he realized he was moving down upside-down.
“She bunged the frung…ack…floor!”
One advantage to having a crew of Klamathans, Bott decided. There wasn’t much more comfortable to land on in a chute like this.
“Opf!” cried Chlorda, as he bounced away from her stomach. “The…captain has some heft.”
“Jus’ as well,” said Louba, rising to her feet and starting to lower his clothes. “I’m guessin’ it’s time I was stood in a corner.”
Bott raised a hand. “Let’s wait and see if this room has corners, okay?”
He rose from among his crew and considered their landing spot. This new room was a dim, irregular metal box with all sizes of chutes opening from the ceiling, and alarming bumps and ridges along the floor. There were dark obstacles around them, which might hide anything, and anything else could be dumped on them from a chute. He could still smell the enchanting aroma of fireworms. Rumor said His Imperial Worship had the largest fireworms in captivity. Rumor had not said WHERE they were in captivity.
“Help me,” someone whispered.
Bott looked to his crew, a hand still up. The sound seemed to have come from a large pyramid on their left. There was chute above the pyramid; something dropped from it as they watched. Bott hoped it wasn’t a victim of fireworm infestation. Once the fireworms took over the major internal organs, such people were hard to kill, no matter how hard they tried to die.
He took a step forward, using both hands to gesture to his crew to stay back. He was not especially surprised to find them right behind him as he came around the pyramid.
“Help me,” Nubry whispered again, turning toward him as he approached.
She was being drawn backward over a large iron book, which was open to form a wedge, its spine against hers. Small objects were dropping from the chute, landing with pinpoint accuracy in baskets attached to her wrists and ankles. Her face twisted as the weights drew rrach limb farther and farther down.
“I’ll cut them offa ya, Hon,” said Louba, moving forward. The captain shoved an elbow into her stomach to attract her attention.
“Can’t…release…all the…weight at once,” the prisoner gasped. “It’s…mined.”
“Ah.” Nodding to Bott, the green took a step back. “Cap’n’ll tink o’ sumpm.”
“I know,” she whispered. “You…got away…from the HSUs. I didn’t…think…you could.”
Bott pointed to a high metal ridge away to the left. “Check that out,” he ordered. “Tell me if there’s anything behind it. All of you. And wait for my next command.”
The Klamathans, impressed by a new metal in his voice, hurried away. As soon as he saw the blue backside disappear around the ridge, the captain tore out his knife and slashed at the ropes holding the baskets to the prisoner.
“Bott!” Nubry wailed, as the second basket came loose. “Look out!” He leapt for shelter.
The blast helped push him farther. He ducked little lead weights that flew free, mixed with bits of the prisoner.
“Another copy, Cap’n?” Chlorda inquired, as he rejoined the crew.
He nodded. “How could she have known about us escaping the HSUs unless she was watching an Imperial monitor? Let’s go.”
They started forward, but Bassada lingered, wiping blood from the sides of Bott’s face. “Y’know, Cap’n,” she murmured, “Sometimes ‘ey makes prisoners watch ‘em monitors, too.”
Bott frowned.
Blogsy Babbles 