By Jane Carver
“Sorry, they’re full. Commercial ships and space carriers still take passengers, but their leave times are a bit chancy, if you know what I mean.”
Those last few spacers would leave as late as possible in order to fill their cargo holes before hauling ass. Damn, he’d planned on getting a good day’s rest before beginning his search for Handid. Now his plans called for a more immediate departure.
According to information he squeezed out of that vermin on Botwax, Handid had lived on this planet at least five years. So he would have an escape plan. Would he go with the fleet tomorrow or stay and scrounge the last of the planet’s treasures?
He turned back to his drink and asked nothing further. With no one left to talk to, the fat man ambled away. Hunched shoulders and hands wrapped tightly about his mug, Gambrel sought a solution to his problem. In a foul mood, he cocked an eye at the window where strong sunlight filtered through the dark curtains. Damn, this sun and its ever-lasting day. Night time and no darkness to give ease.
A sense of hopelessness crept into his soul. Happier times seemed long ago. Before Handid and his men set the trap to kill him and wound up killing Lindan, he remembered laughter and smiles. Girlish giggles still rang faintly in his memory. Those memories had faded over the years until he sat with a glass of brew that blurred his mind, and no one to call friend. No one to take him off this God-forsaken planet. A mission lay upon him, but a looming sense of futility threatened to overwhelm him. For a minute, Gambrel wondered if the drink caused this despair or if he had reached a turning point in his life.
“Father?” A low feminine voice at his back caught his attention, diverting his maudlin thoughts to something more pleasant. “I thought perhaps you would be here with Jacon.”
Two men greet the woman. Both received a kiss. Gambrel heard the soft smacking of lips against skin. Such a pleasant feminine greeting awakened his manhood before he realized it. He sat hard as a rock with no way to dampen the desire. To be honest, at that point, he welcomed the conversation. The gentle voice took his mind off his own problems.
“Will you come home soon, Father?”
Something soft swished against Gambrel’s arm. He tucked his head low and looked around his broad shoulder. Two men sat across from each other at a wide table. The woman sat with her back to him. The sweep of her cloak had touched him. A hood hid her face, but his imagination filled in a form to match her soothing speech.
Curiosity raised its head for the first time in years. What did the woman look like? Why did she seek her father so late? Was she alone? Did a man wait for her at home? All these questions a friend asked, but he called no man—or woman for that matter—friend. As he listened to their quiet words, his curiosity reflected memories of happier times and concern for the future.
His dim-looking future.
Of course, he could not join the trio and satisfy his interest. But the love and homey sentiment radiated around him nevertheless. He sipped his tepid brew and eavesdropped without shame.
“Jacon, are Mirril and Bassik prepared to leave? I can hardly wait to board. I almost wish we were sleeping on the ship tonight. But Father wishes one last night at home.” Such friendly words, spoken with a smile.
“Yes, Vangee, they are ready but not happy. This is the only place we’ve known. Only the force of the gods makes us leave. The scout, Boratax, said the flight would last a year at least. I know we’ll stop along the way for supplies, but that’s a long time to be aboard ship.” Jacon sighed.
“Did you see Boratax before he left?” The excitement in her voice dwindled to pity. “I waited at the house to wish him good voyage, but we missed each other.”
Surely this woman—Vangee—wasn’t so lacking in charm or beauty that a healthy man would avoid her company. Other beings besides humankind resided on this planet. Maybe being another breed, this Boratax didn’t respond to feminine wiles like a human would.
“Many demanded Boratax’ attention the day he left. Perhaps, daughter, you make more of his friendship than is there?” Was Vangee’s father trying to say Boratax didn’t experience the caring emotions she apparently did?
Light laughter seemed to touch the back of Gambrel’s neck and slither down his spine, leaving him wanting. He wanted this woman.
“Enough. I am for home if you abide here with Jacon longer.” She rose. “Good night, sire. Jacon.”
Sneaking another look, Gambrel saw the long cape float around a body of indeterminate size. He sighed and threw back his head to down the mug’s last few drops. When he stood, he scanned the room as usual. The father, his friend, and the man at the tap were the only ones in the tavern. The keeper at the bar raised an eyebrow, a signal asking if he wanted another drink, but he shook his head and waved goodnight.
No nighttime coolness relieved the day’s heat as he stepped outside. The only dark places lay in deep alleys such as the one he left earlier. Again, he pulled the scarf high, this time using it as a shade against the scorching brightness. His calf-length hide coat disguised his armament but trapped body heat and soaked up more. Uncomfortable in the perpetual daylight, he turned right.
He understood now why the hostel owner allowed him only one night’s stay. The man and his family planned to sail with the fleet the next morning. That didn’t mean Gambrel had to leave the planet; it meant the owner preferred everyone out before he locked the door forever.
The late hour and plans for the morrow kept all in bed. No one wandered the street. In the eerie silence, he heard footsteps not far ahead. What if? What if it was the woman? Mayhap he might walk with her. He hastened to catch up.
A Story Begins Now 