Outta Dodge

Caleb Dougherty startled awake, yet again. The Lady Luck had just shaken to the core for the umpteenth time, as her right thruster abruptly came to life for half a second before wheezing out again. Caleb was starting to worry his meager oxygen reserve would run out before reaching port, when a voice broke through his earpiece, yanking him out of his stupor.

"Destination reached."

It was Heather, the ship's AI. Her voice, which Caleb had chosen very carefully, was equal parts soothing and formal, like having a sophisticated lady as a devoted assistant. As impersonal as she was, Heather was good company in the long cycles spent in the void, an invaluable aid in preventing him from missing key information due to distraction... for example, when trying to conserve breathable air.

Another female voice was soon coming through, completely human and ringing with subtle authority:

"Civilian pilot, you have entered restricted airspace. Please hold position and submit identification."

His eyes still shut, Caleb laughed low. When he spoke into the open channel, he did his best to sound upbeat. "Do we really have to do this every time, Moles?"

"And hello to you, Mutt", said Molly, the traffic controller. "I don't skip regulations, not even for you. The sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can touch ground."

Molly paused. There was concern in her voice when she spoke again.

"Cale, why is your heat signature in the single digits?"

Caleb kept silent for nearly ten seconds, before speaking in his most businesslike tone.

"Civilian spacecraft Zulu-Oscar-Lima-Zero-Zero-Niner-Two, destination Nehja Market, section seven, requesting permission to dock."

Molly did not reply immediately. Perhaps she was just running his ID and checking for the nearest available space, as usual.

"Permission granted," she said at last. "Adjust heading for pad seven-seven-two."

Normally, Caleb would have let the landing computer handle this part, but having to compensate for the intermittent lack of a thruster might have made the trip particularly bumpy. Therefore, he instead took control and steered the ship as best he could towards pad 772.

The Lady did a final dip as she rested her full weight on the landing gear. Only then did Caleb punch the cockpit door open, and gasped loudly as he took his first full breath in an hour or two. The air that rushed in was stale, heavy with the smell of grease and exotic spices, but to him it was better than the crisp breeze at the shores of Humboldt Spring. He breathed it in, slow and deep, until his heart stopped racing and his lungs ached only slightly.

A few minutes later, feeling back to normal, he stepped out into the hangar and stared at the Lady with dismay. The gash his attackers had punched in her flank was long, jagged. Most of his oxygen reserve had been sucked out, along with many of his belongings, before he sealed the cockpit shut. After a heavy, mildly whimpering sigh, he turned around, hearing steps closer and closer. Molly had evidently sent out a call for a mechanic, per protocol.

"Ah, Chotto! That you? What are the odds!"

Chotto was a short, heavyset humanoid with tiny eyes, big mouth, dark blue skin and a grumpy disposition. Waddling over to Caleb, he uttered a questioning grunt. Caleb merely pointed to the large wound on the Lady's flank.

"The right thruster is shot, too. How long do you need?"

Chotto stared at the thruster, then at the gash, and then he held up three webbed fingers. Caleb's shoulders slumped.

"Okay. I'll see you then."

As he made his way out of the hangar, he froze. It had been less than a second, but he was sure it wasn't a mirage. Uthrakh's goons had picked his trail back up far quicker than he had expected. How, it didn't matter. Now that he knew they were hot on his heels, he had to move accordingly.

The Nehja market was massive; one of the biggest in the quadrant, if not the biggest. All he had to do was get into the paths lined with stalls and replete with people, and he could make himself scarce quickly. Even Uthrakh's trained trackers would have a hard time holding on to his scent in this melange.

Before long, he was but one in a sea of bodies, sounds and smells: there were merchants selling amphibian curios, and some others offered exquisitely sewn garments for all sorts of body configurations. Here and there a peddler advertised rare fragrances and pheromone concoctions, guaranteed to attract beings of any race, gender and mating inclination in the Zeryon quadrant.

Eventually he came across a stall offering meats from all over the Ythgalla system, prepared in a variety of ways. Digging into his pocket for a token, he artfully tossed it towards the multi-handed, stalk-eyed vendor, and took a stick of Au'kari jerky, which he proceeded to consume in slow, delighted bites.

A few minutes later he stopped, peeked around and dove into an alley. A few tens of yards in, he ducked to the left. After a second to ensure he was alone, he knocked on the third door in a very specific pattern —that of an old Exerian lullaby—, and then called out; his voice should help fully identify him.

"Althmyne, it's me."

After an interval of complete silence, Caleb heard several locks coming undone on the other side. The door opened half an inch. A luminous, iridescent eye swept him from top to bottom. Then he heard the sound of a chain sliding off. A slender, three fingered hand darted out, gripped him by the wrist and pulled him in with surprising strength. With the lightning-fast movements her species was known for, Althmyne replaced the five locks, bars and chain. Then, hugging her hooded cloak, she walked by his side and to the chair she had just left upon his arrival. Her voice was musical, soothing, in spite of her evident stress.

"Were you followed?"

"Not all the way. Uthrakh knows I'm here, though. I saw one of his Hounds trailing me." He instantly raised his hands in a calming gesture when she rose, terrified. "It's okay. I lost it in the crowd."

"Are you sure?"

Caleb shifted uncomfortably. "Pretty sure. But look, if it had been on my tail, I wouldn't have made it to the door."

"Unless it wanted you to lead it to me."

"Well... yes, there's that. But look, I'm here, I'm in, we've been talking for, what, a full minute now? And nobody has busted in."

Althmyne considered this, and nodded. "Shall we go, then?"

Caleb scuffed his foot on the polished floor. "The Lady took a beating on my way here. We have to wait until she's spaceworthy again."

"How long?"

Caleb raised three fingers. Althmyne sat back down, her eyes shut, and sighed.

--0--

Several hours had gone by when Caleb felt himself violently shaken out of his deep slumber. Althmyne was speaking in tense, hushed tones.

"They're coming. We have to go."

Caleb knew better than to doubt Althmyne's perception. Moving as fast as he could, he slid his shirt, jacket and boots back on.

"How long do we have?"

"Barely enough," said Althmyne, and Caleb nodded grimly. He hesitated as he reached for her wrist, but she did not flinch, and he took hold. After peering out, left and right into the alley, he looked at her over his shoulder.

"Which way?"

Althmyne pointed, and he darted off. It felt like a blasphemy, touching her, let alone holding her that tight. Such was the enthralling effect her species had in most sentient beings. Try as they might to restrain it, she and her sisters often found themselves unwittingly ensnaring weaker minds, which frequently put them in uncomfortable situations... such as when beings like Uthrakh suddenly coveted one of them and acted in consequence.

"Focus", said Althmyne, evidently sensing his mental fog. Caleb shook his head violently, tightened his grip on her wrist and pressed on.

"We have to hide where nobody will betray us. You'll have to use the Lure."

Althmyne looked anguished at the prospect, but Caleb didn't budge. "Either you hoodwink one of these merchants, or we're both toast."

Althmyne considered. Then she nodded, a tear running down her pale blue cheek. Caleb made to resume the march... and found he could not move her one inch.

"What... what are you doing?"

Althmyne didn't reply. Caleb tried to pull her onward, but he might as well tried to pull an oak off its roots. And then he saw it: their pursuer had emerged from a corner nearby. After sniffing the air noisily, its head whirled in their direction, snarling as its eyes zeroed in on the pair.

"Althmyne...!"

The Hound was charging towards them, and still Althmyne would not budge. Their foe was ten yards away, then five... Caleb turned away and braced for impact.

When he looked again, Althmyne's luminous eyes were very open, her gaze locked on the Hound's. The big stalker was sitting on the ground, completely transfixed. Neither prey nor hunter made a noise, but soon she was nodding.

"This is the only one following us for now. More of them prowl the alleys. We must depart without delay."

Caleb shook his head. "The Lady is still in drydock."

"Then you must make use of your long unused skills."

"What are you talking ab- whoa, no. No way."

Althmyne looked melancholy as she set a hand on his forearm. "You must. Or we are... toast." Caleb's shoulders slumped.

"Fine."

--0--

Pad 761 was empty, except for the Lousy Wonder. The ship stood lonely, dormant, awaiting her lawful owner.

Caleb sighed, his hand running down his face. He looked at Althmyne, who was standing nearby with her newly acquired Hound looming protectively over her. When she nodded, he tromped forward. He hadn't done something like this in many cycles, but it was like riding a sunboard: you never truly forget.

A few minutes later, they were in. Althmyne claimed the copilot seat, the Hound sitting by her feet. Caleb busied himself preparing for takeoff. Traffic control usually didn't pay attention to departing craft; he could only hope their eyes remained elsewhere this one time.

"Strap in."

When he heard the seat belt clicking in, he pulled the throttle. The landing gear rolled in as the ship lurched upward, before turning around to face the exit vector.

"Thank you," said Althmyne. "As soon as we land at Sanctuary, I shall fulfill my end of our bargain."

Caleb didn't say anything. He was mentally bidding farewell to his cherished Lady Luck, sitting somewhere below him.

He was going to miss Heather something fierce.