“Don’t tell me you risk your lives to come to this place in search of wildlife! Don’t insult my intelligence again!” The foot drew back, farther this time. Whispr closed his eyes and waited for the blow.
“All right, I’ll tell you! Don’t hurt him!”
Both the man on the ground and the Meld standing over him turned in Ingrid’s direction. The restraining plastic band digging into her wrists, she implored their captor with her eyes.
“I’ll tell you the truth. But it isn’t what you want to hear.”
“Try me.” Lowering his booted foot for a second time, Quaffer stared at her out of eager, beady eyes.
“Don’t do it, doc! Don’t tell …
ummphh!
”
Aimed at Whispr’s stomach instead of his head the forceful kick did no permanent damage. But it did shut him up. Holding his boot in reserve, the freewalker nodded tersely at Ingrid.
“Go on—talk.”
“You’re right. We’re not here to look at wildlife.”
Quaffer smiled contentedly. “Of course you’re not. Now tell me something I don’t know.”
As best her restricted circumstances permitted, she nodded toward the gasping Whispr. “My friend is my assistant, and I am a scientist. A practical one.” She took a deep breath. “We hope to sneak into a SICK research facility located at Nerens.”
Recovering from the punt to the gut, Whispr’s eyes grew wide. Had his intellectually brilliant but socially naïve companion finally gone over the edge? Now all their captor had to do was call SICK security and turn them in. No doubt there was some kind of standing award for those who exposed intruders into the Forbidden Zone. Except …
If Quaffer notified the company of their intrusion he would also have to explain what
he
was doing in the Sperrgebeit. They mightlet him off, they might pay him a reward—or they might execute him along with those he had exposed. Just to ensure everything remained nice and clean and that once back in Orangemund the wayward guide did not reveal to others of his ilk the safest route inland. No one would question the company’s actions in such a case. Their ruthlessness and methods were long-established and well known. Certainly such an extreme response would be unfair to the guide. Satisfaction carried to the grave, however, tends to wither as fast as flesh.
To his credit the freewalker Meld did not reject Ingrid’s explanation out of hand. He ruminated quietly for several moments. Then he walked deliberately over to the doctor until he was standing next to her recumbent form.
“I give you credit, woman. That is the most outrageous pretext for risking one’s life in the Namib I have ever heard. It is so outrageous that I could almost credit it being true. Almost.” He leaned over her, his partially depleted water sac sloshing against his spine and expanded supporting ribs. “Why in the name of Mandela’s mandala would you even think of trying to sneak into Nerens? Unauthorized entry into the Sperrgebeit means almost certain death. Attempting to infiltrate Nerens removes the ‘almost.’ Explain yourself to me, pretty woman!”
Gazing up at him out of recently color-maniped eyes, she was quietly defiant. “You don’t need to know.”
With his insides churning Whispr waited for the inevitable heavy-toed kick to strike his companion. That it did not was testimony to a combination of Quaffer’s uncertainty and his astonishment at being openly challenged by the helpless woman lying at his feet. His reaction, when it came, was unexpected.
He laughed. Out of amazement, and out of a perverse admiration.
“I was wrong. You are not smart, woman. You are crazy!” Helooked over at the anxious Whispr. “And whether you are following or leading, stick-man, you are crazy for being with her!” Lowering his voice he knelt on one knee to bring his face closer to that of his captive.
“Listen to me, red-haired lady. Listen close, listen good.
Nobody gets into Nerens unless they are authorized by the
“All right, I’ll tell you! Don’t hurt him!”
Both the man on the ground and the Meld standing over him turned in Ingrid’s direction. The restraining plastic band digging into her wrists, she implored their captor with her eyes.
“I’ll tell you the truth. But it isn’t what you want to hear.”
“Try me.” Lowering his booted foot for a second time, Quaffer stared at her out of eager, beady eyes.
“Don’t do it, doc! Don’t tell …
ummphh!
”
Aimed at Whispr’s stomach instead of his head the forceful kick did no permanent damage. But it did shut him up. Holding his boot in reserve, the freewalker nodded tersely at Ingrid.
“Go on—talk.”
“You’re right. We’re not here to look at wildlife.”
Quaffer smiled contentedly. “Of course you’re not. Now tell me something I don’t know.”
As best her restricted circumstances permitted, she nodded toward the gasping Whispr. “My friend is my assistant, and I am a scientist. A practical one.” She took a deep breath. “We hope to sneak into a SICK research facility located at Nerens.”
Recovering from the punt to the gut, Whispr’s eyes grew wide. Had his intellectually brilliant but socially naïve companion finally gone over the edge? Now all their captor had to do was call SICK security and turn them in. No doubt there was some kind of standing award for those who exposed intruders into the Forbidden Zone. Except …
If Quaffer notified the company of their intrusion he would also have to explain what
he
was doing in the Sperrgebeit. They mightlet him off, they might pay him a reward—or they might execute him along with those he had exposed. Just to ensure everything remained nice and clean and that once back in Orangemund the wayward guide did not reveal to others of his ilk the safest route inland. No one would question the company’s actions in such a case. Their ruthlessness and methods were long-established and well known. Certainly such an extreme response would be unfair to the guide. Satisfaction carried to the grave, however, tends to wither as fast as flesh.
To his credit the freewalker Meld did not reject Ingrid’s explanation out of hand. He ruminated quietly for several moments. Then he walked deliberately over to the doctor until he was standing next to her recumbent form.
“I give you credit, woman. That is the most outrageous pretext for risking one’s life in the Namib I have ever heard. It is so outrageous that I could almost credit it being true. Almost.” He leaned over her, his partially depleted water sac sloshing against his spine and expanded supporting ribs. “Why in the name of Mandela’s mandala would you even think of trying to sneak into Nerens? Unauthorized entry into the Sperrgebeit means almost certain death. Attempting to infiltrate Nerens removes the ‘almost.’ Explain yourself to me, pretty woman!”
Gazing up at him out of recently color-maniped eyes, she was quietly defiant. “You don’t need to know.”
With his insides churning Whispr waited for the inevitable heavy-toed kick to strike his companion. That it did not was testimony to a combination of Quaffer’s uncertainty and his astonishment at being openly challenged by the helpless woman lying at his feet. His reaction, when it came, was unexpected.
He laughed. Out of amazement, and out of a perverse admiration.
“I was wrong. You are not smart, woman. You are crazy!” Helooked over at the anxious Whispr. “And whether you are following or leading, stick-man, you are crazy for being with her!” Lowering his voice he knelt on one knee to bring his face closer to that of his captive.
“Listen to me, red-haired lady. Listen close, listen good.
Nobody gets into Nerens unless they are authorized by the
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