Off-Worlders Page 8

  *****

  When they finally landed her ship, the Weeza Gremlin was beginning to smell.

  Badly.

  Izabel sighed. She had enjoyed flying this ship. She truly hoped its previous crew were well.

  She had expected them to board the ship as soon as she docked. But instead they stayed on the ground, their ancient weaponry leveled at her. A man in uniform used some sort of portable speaker system to command her loudly to exit the ship.

  Izabel hesitated. She had amused herself on the way down with overriding the locking code they had placed on the ship's laser system.

  With a press of a turquoise button she could annihilate every last one of them in a matter of seconds. Her finger hovered over the button, and then her hand dropped to her side.

  That was not the way she wanted to do this.

  And so Izabel descended the stairs of her circular, silver ship in the manner of all people willing to negotiate a little on the finer points of their belief system.

  That is, she walked with her hands above her head and did her level best to look contrite and non-threatening.

  The man in the uniform had a hat. In fact, they all had hats. Hats were rarely seen on Moethiica which Izabel thought was a great pity. At some stage, she did not remember when, she had taken quiet a fancy to them.

  These people all wore the same hats. High crowned and wide brimmed. Some had bands around the crown with exotic feathers sticking out of them.

  Izabel wanted one. She wanted one immediately.

  "Cuff her," the leader with the portable speaker contraption ordered his men. He was no longer using it and she wondered if it was heavy to carry around. He identified himself gruffly as Sheriff Cutler.

  She was cuffed and led to a small office just off the landing field.

  Sheriff Cutler leaned back in his chair, his feet up on his extremely messy desk. His boots were old and had seen some adventures, but they were still polished to a high gleam. His hands rested on the wide leather belt securing his sizable paunch.

  "Speak girl. We know you ain't no Cirillean.” He chuckled at his own joke. It was kind of obvious.

  Izabel knew passing as a Cirillean would not be an option once she left the ship. She had concocted many lies, many fabrications, many stories.

  When it came down to it, now in the moment, she simply opted for the truth.

  "I am a friend of the Cirilleans. Normally," she added when he raised an eyebrow at her. "But I stole this ship from them so I could come to you. I believe the only surviving member of the first generation of my kind is here. I want to meet him. I am from Moethiica. The world of The Lady Evamiin."

  "I know," he said matter-of-factly. "My Medicine Man told me all this already. And we listen carefully to our Medicine Men round here. We listen real carefully. Reg!" he shouted loudly.

  Reg, the Medicine Man popped his head out from behind the screen he had been hiding very poorly behind. He too, wore one of the hats. When he fully emerged from the screen, Izabel realized just how incongruous the hat was with the rest of him. He looked like a happy, tubby, bald, oriental, monk.

  Reg happily took a seat beside her. He had the most infectious smile. "Good girl you for telling the truth," he beamed at her. "He would have shot your brains out if you lied." He suddenly burst out laughing. "And your lady spend a lot of money making that brain. Shame to waste it!" He erupted into another fit of laughter.

  It too was infectious. And Izabel smiled in spite of herself and the fact that it was her brain they were joking about blowing to smithereens.

  "Will you let me look for him here?" she asked of them simply, as Reg un-cuffed her.

  She was glad she hadn't fired those lasers on the ship, no matter what their answer might be.

  Reg beamed at both her and Sheriff Cutler in turn. "Go on Boss!" he urged. "She good girl! I take her to the base of the mountain. Go on!"

  "All right, all right," Sheriff Cutler said gruffly. "You can look for him. But no funny business!" He peered at her sharply.

  "No funny business," Izabel agreed solemnly. "Thank you." Tears welled in her eyes. Unlike The Lady Evamiin's tears which were blue, hers were silver. "Thank you so much."

  "Aw, hell. Don't you be crying now! We know you rejigged the guns and had your finger on the trigger. No good feeling all guilty now, just cause we've been so nice to you." Sheriff Cutler refused to meet her eyes now she was crying. He hated it when women cried.

  Izabel was shocked. "But if you know I did that, how can you sit here so calmly! What would you have done if I'd pulled the trigger?"

  "Me and Reg'd be drinking a fine ale and dancing in the afterlife!" Sheriff Cutler's eyed twinkled with merriment and he and Reg both threw back their heads and laughed.

  "And next time round, you be Medicine Man and I be Sheriff!" Reg cackled.

  They threw back their heads and roared, tears of laughter pouring down their cheeks.

  As Sheriff Cutler recovered himself, he pursed his lips in thought and looked at Izabel. "Reg says you're one of them cytechy things." He looked a little sheepish. "You any good with computers?"

  "Quite good," Izabel nodded, and her eyes were twinkling now.

  "You mind taking a look at my new laptop before you head off with Reg here? Damn thing. Only got it last week. It's given me a helluva time. Hate computers."

  "I will fix it for you," Izabel assured him. "And anything else you would like me to look at or fix I would be happy to. I would like to look at your codes. You have Weeza Gremlins in your Webs. I killed one who attacked me. The body is on my ship."

  "Smelly buggers!" Sheriff Cutler grunted. "That ship gonna stink. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it though. The Cirilleans take care of them for us on their big runs through."

  "How long have they been invading your Webs?" Izabel asked curiously, glad the Cirilleans were on to it.

  "They just come in last year," Reg said cheerfully. "But that's ok. We expect it. Big things happening at the moment. Many fighting for control. Big changes coming." He patted her hand. "You be careful on Little Blue."

  "I'm not going to Little Blue!” Izabel shook her head vehemently at him, blue eyes afire. Now, more sure than ever, she would never be a part of that.”

  Reg just patted her hand some more and beamed at her.

  "Anything you want to ask the boss for?" he asked her cheekily.

  "Reg!" Sheriff Cutler drew out his name, chiding him.

  "What! Go on boss, you know she going to ask anyway!"

  "They don't grow on trees you know!" Sheriff Cutler barked gruffly. Which drew forth more gales of laughter from Reg.

  "All right then, go on," he said gruffly to Izabel. "Ask."

  Reg nodded at her frantically in delighted encouragement.

  "Well,” Izabel began hesitantly and then launched right into it. "I would like a hat."

  "A hat!" Sheriff Cutler grumbled. "Everyone who comes here wants a bloody hat!"

  Reg threw back his head and roared with laughter and his cheeks glistened with fresh tears.

  Izabel sat in stunned happiness.

  For the first time in her life she knew what it felt like to grin.