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“The Ivets.” Geoffrey Tu
“Right,” Darcy agreed diplomatically.
“But on Monday we had some people visit, claimed they were from Waldersy village, up in Kristo County. They said the Ivets were all rebelling in the Quallheim Counties and Willow West, killing the men and raping the women. Said plenty of younger colonists had joined them, too. They was nothing but a vigilante group, you could see that, all hyped up they were, on a high. I reckoned they’d been smoking some canus; that’ll send you tripping if you dry the leaves right. Trouble they were, just wanted to kill our Ivets. We wouldn’t have it. A man can’t kill another in cold blood, not just on someone else’s say so. We sent them on downriver. Then blow me if they didn’t creep back that night. And you know what?”
“They let the Ivets out,” Lori said.
Geoffrey Tu
“Sorry, I don’t know anything,” Darcy said. “Not yet. That’s why we’re here, to find out. But whatever you do, don’t go after them. The larger your numbers, the safer you are.”
Geoffrey Tu
Darcy put his hand on Geoffrey Tu
“I’ll do my best.” Geoffrey Tu
“We’ll do what we can,” Lori said.
“Sure you will. You’re doing what you tell me not to: go out in the jungle. Just the two of you. That’s madness.”
Lori thought Geoffrey Tu
Geoffrey Tu
Lori stood at the side of the wheel-house as the Coogan cast off; Darcy was aft, heaving more of the interminable logs into the furnace hopper. Len Bucha
We could send one of the eagles looking for them,lori suggested.
You don’t really mean that.
No. I’m sorry, I was just trying to save my own conscience.
Fifty armed men, and no trace. I don’t know about your conscience, but my courage has almost deserted me.
We could go back, or even wait for Solanki’s marines.
Yes, we could.
You’re right. We’ll go on.
We should have told Geoffrey Tu
That’s all right, I think he already knows.
Karl Lambourne woke without knowing why. It wasn’t noon yet, and he hadn’t got to go back on watch until two o’clock. The blinds on his cabin’s port were still shut, reducing the light inside to a mysterious and enticing dusk. Booted feet thudded along the deck outside the door. Conversation was a persistent background hum, children calling out in their whiny voices.
Everything normal. So why was he awake with a vague feeling of unease?
The colonist girl—what was her name?—stirred beside him. She was a few months younger than him, with dark hair teased into ringlets around a dainty face. Despite his initial dismay with the Swithland carrying all those extra sheriffs and deputies it was turning out to be a good trip. The girls appreciated the space and privacy his cabin gave them; the boat was very crowded, with sleeping-bags clogging every metre of deck space.
The girl’s eyelids fluttered, then opened slowly. She—A
“Hi,” she said.
He glanced along her body. The sheet was tangled up round her waist, affording him a splendid view of breasts, lean belly muscles, and sharply curving hips. “Hi yourself.” He brushed some of the ringlets from her face.
Shouts and a barking laugh sounded from outside. Alison gave a timid giggle. “God, they’re only a metre away.”
“You should have thought of that before you made all that noise earlier.”
Her tongue was caught between her teeth. “Didn’t make any noise.”
“Did.”
“Didn’t.”
His arms circled her, and he pulled her closer. “You did, and I can prove it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He kissed her softly, and she started to respond. His hand stole downwards, pushing the sheet off her legs.
Alison turned over when he told her to, shivering in anticipation as his arm slid under her waist, lifting her buttocks up. Her mouth parted in expectation.
“What the hell was that?”
“Karl?” She bent her head round to see him kneeling behind her, frowning up at the ceiling. “Karl!”
“Shush. Listen, can you hear it?”
She couldn’t believe this was happening. People were still clumping up and down the deck outside. There wasn’t any other sound! And she’d never ever been so turned on before. Right now she hated Karl with the same intensity she’d adored him a second before.
Karl twitched his head round, trying to catch the noise again. Except it wasn’t so much a noise, more a vibration, a grumble. He knew every sound, every tremble the Swithland made, and that wasn’t in its repertoire.
He heard it again, and identified it. A hull timber quaking somewhere aft. The creak of wood under pressure, almost as if they had touched a snag. But his mother would never steer anywhere near a snag, that was crazy.
Alison was looking up at him, all anger and hurt. The magic had gone. He felt his penis softening.
The noise came again. A grinding sound that lasted for about three seconds. It was muted by the bilges, but this time it was loud enough even for Alison to hear.
She blinked in confusion. “What . . . ”
Karl jumped off the bed, snatching up his shorts. He jammed his legs into them, and was still struggling with the button when he yanked the door lock back and rushed out onto the deck.
Alison squealed behind him, trying to cover herself with her arms as vibrant midmorning sunlight flooded into the cabin. She grabbed the thin sheet to wrap herself in, and started hunting round for her clothes.
After the seductive shadows of his cabin the sunlight on deck sent glaring purple after-images chasing down Karl’s optic nerves. Tear ducts released their stored liquid, which he had to wipe away a