On almost every level I could think of, the idea made sense. And Cameron andTera would surely get over their pique eventually. Still, I reluctantlyconcluded, I wasn't quite ready to make such a decision. Not yet. Maybe oncewe were off Palmary.
The tram line, for all its obviously quick assembly, was still morecomfortable and professional than transports I'd used on a lot of supposedly more advancedworlds. I arrived at the platform to find a pair of trams already waiting, oneeach heading in to the cities of Drobney and k'Barch. I picked the k'Barchone, reasoning that the place with a k'Tra name would probably have a more freneticcelebration level, and hence more cover for a man on the run.
Most of my fellow travelers had apparently come to a similar conclusion, thoughundoubtedly with different motivations. I let the traffic flow carry me inthrough the doors and to a standing point midway down one of the cars, jammedbetween a group of sweaty Narchners and a group of clean but equally aromaticSaffi.
We headed out. I had enough of a view out one of the side windows to see thatNicabar's assumption had been correct: Not only was there a good-sizedoutfitters' store at the junction of the two tram lines, but also a collectionof restaurants, tavernos, and gawk-shops. Even StarrComm had gotten into theact, setting up a prefab satellite station so that spacers who felt the needto get in touch with the outside universe wouldn't have to go to wherever theirmain building was in the twin-city area. Once again, I raised my estimate ofhow much money this Grand Feast must pour into the Palmary economy.
We rumbled our way to the end of the line, which from the look of things wasrelatively close to the middle of k'Barch and perilously near the epicenter ofthe upcoming celebrations. The earlier flow through the tram doors reverseditself, and a few chaotic minutes later I was maneuvering my way down asidewalk that was only marginally less crowded than the inside of the tram had been.
About a block ahead, I could see the rustling display flag of a pharmacy, andI concentrated on making my way toward it.
I had reached the shop and was working my way sideways through the crowdtoward the door, when something exploded against the back of my neck, plunging meinto darkness.
CHAPTER 19
I CAME TO slowly, drifting back toward consciousness in gradual and torturedstages. There was a vague sensation of discomfort, which first coalesced intoan overall chill and stiffness before zeroing in on a throbbing somewhere in theback of my head. There was something wrong with my arms, though I couldn'tfigure out exactly what. There was light somewhere, too, though as vague andundefined as the discomfort had originally been, and the distant thoughtoccurred to me that if I turned my head maybe I could figure out where it wascoming from. It took some time and effort to remember how that could be done, but finally I had it doped out. Feeling rather pleased with my accomplishment, I
turned my head a little to the side.
And instantly came fully awake as a flare of pain burned through the back ofmyskull. Someone, apparently, was doing his best to rip my head off my spinewith his bare hands. Clenching my teeth, I waited until the pain had mostlysubsided; then, keeping my head as motionless as possible, I eased open my eyes.
I was sitting in a plain wooden armchair, unpadded, my head lolled forwardwith my chin resting on my chest. What was wrong with my arms was quickly apparent: both wrists were handcuffed to the chair arms on which they were resting.
Experimentally, I shifted my right foot a bit and found that they hadn'tbothered to lock my feet in place as they had my arms. In the background Icould hear the faint sounds of distant music; closer at hand, somewhere just infront of me, I could also hear the sounds of quiet alien conversation. Slowly, mindful of the trip-hammer waiting to resume work on the back of my skull, I carefullyraised my head to look.
And immediately wished I hadn't. I was in a medium-sized room, plain andlargelyunfurnished, with a single light in the ceiling and a single closed door maybefour meters directly ahead of me. Seated behind a low wooden table midwaybetween the door and me, my partially disassembled phone on the tabletop infront of them, were two more members of the lumpy Iykami Clan.
At the moment, though, they weren't paying any attention to the phone, nor toany of the rest of my pocket equipment that had been unceremoniously dumpedout onto the table. My efforts at stealthy wakefulness to the contrary, they werelooking straight at me.
And not, as near as I could tell from those alien faces, with particularlyfriendly expressions. They were more the sort of expressions worn by peoplewho have orders to keep a prisoner alive and mostly well, but who are at the sametime secretly longing for said prisoner to make trouble and thus provide themwith an excuse to beat the living daylights out of him.
Cooperative type that I was, it seemed a shame to disappoint them. I came upon my feet, hunched forward for balance as I gripped the arms to hold the chairmore or less in place against my back and rear. Their secret hopesnotwithstanding, a sudden and clearly suicidal attack on my part was probablythe last thing they were actually expecting; and the shock had just enoughtime to register on their faces as I took two quick steps forward and swung 180degrees around, taking care not to let my chair get hung up on the edge oftheir table. With all the strength I could muster, I heaved myself and the chair ashard as I could squarely on top of them.
They saw it coming, of course. But seated with their legs under the table, there wasn't a single thing they could do about it. We all went down together in aconfused and thunderous crash of splintering wood and alien curses. Stillhandcuffed to the chair, my movements were severely limited, but even so I wasin a far better fighting position than my opponents. Flailing back and forth, hammering them with the chair and keeping them pinned beneath me, I lashed outwith my feet, throwing kick after kick to head and torso and anything else Icould reach. After what seemed like forever through the haze of pain from myhead, they stopped moving. I gave them each another couple of kicks, just incase they were faking, then collapsed in a panting heap amid the carnage.
I didn't stay collapsed long, though. It had been a serious gamble on my part, taking them on just after waking up, but I hadn't had much choice in thematter.
Two-to-one odds were as good as I was likely to get; and if I'd waited forthem to call whoever was in charge with the news that the sacrificial Voodoo dollwas awake and ready to have pins stuck in him, I'd never have left the room alive.
An unhappy ending that could still very easily happen. The brief fight hadbeen anything but quiet, and the music I could hear in the distance meant thatthere was at least someone else in the immediate vicinity. My chair had sufferedsome damage in the fight, but enough of it had survived to keep me pinioned.
Rollingaround awkwardly, keeping an ear cocked for the inevitable reaction, I startedchecking my unconscious jailers for the keys to my handcuffs.
They were wearing the same sort of neo-Greek tunics as the two who'd jumped meon Xathru, and it didn't take long to find out that the limited pocket spacethat came with the outfits included no handcuff keys. One had a belt pouch, similarly bereft of keys. Neither was carrying a weapon.
But a couple of meters away on the floor where it had fallen at the table'scollapse was my phone.
My imprisoning chair had gotten itself caught in a slight hollow formed by thebodies of the two Iykams, but a little rocking broke me free. I rolled up ontomy knees, got to my feet, and picked my way through the debris to the phone.