at random from the box and held it out. One of Boon Round’s graspers, the tentacles on either side of his mouth, reached out and popped it into his mouth.
‘Feel better?’ Joel said.
‘Strength is returning. Thank you.’ Boon Round munched for a while. ‘My harness is uncomfortable. You did not put it on properly.’
‘Well, excuse me!’
‘If that is your desire.’
Well, we’re back to normal, aren’t we?
Joel thought. He picked out a pack of human food concentrate and bit into it. He looked up at the XCs. ‘Now what?’ he said.
Now, apparently, the XCs were going into a conference huddle. Joel looked dolefully at them and wondered if they were drawing up plans for an interesting execution. Somehow it didn’t seem as likely as it had an hour earlier, but . . .
One of the XCs was coming towards him – the big female. She held out one of her several hands and Joel’s eyes widened.
‘That’s my ident bracelet!’
The hand stayed outstretched. Joel reached out for it cautiously, ready to snatch his hand back at any moment; but still she stayed there, and so he took the bracelet and slid it onto his wrist.
‘Thanks. Thank you! Very much. Oh yes. Very much indeed, thank you.’
The XC looked blankly at him, then withdrew for another conference. Joel withdrew himself to the far side of the room and looked at his wrist thoughtfully. A mugshot of his own features looked back, mounted on the white plastic next to a bar code.
Then his finger sought out and pressed the red plastic square on the white band, and an image appeared in the air next to it. ‘Oh yes,’ he breathed. ‘Thank you, God.’
As well as the basic information stored on the bar code, the bracelet could store supplementary information, and if he had stuck to official procedure then the image should have been of his own face together with further details of blood group, allergies, religion, ethnicity, and last will and testament. Shortly before leaving for SkySpy, he had had a better idea.
Another face had appeared instead. Dark hair that could make the face look harsh when it was pulled back behind the head, or frame it to perfection when it hung loose. Bright blue eyes and a gaze that could blaze with fury or turn soft and tender. He had caught the picture just when the owner of the face was turning to him. It had been one of Admiralty Island’s perfect equatorial evenings and they had been walking along the west shore, watching the sunset. She hadn’t known what he was doing until she turned to say something and saw the camera, and in those eyes were irritation, amusement . . . and, just because he was there, that tenderness he knew so well.
Joel covered the image with his hand, and the warmth of the laser field suffused gently into his palm. For just a moment he had everything he wanted. He still didn’t know what was going to happen to him, and he didn’t have a plan for escaping – not even the germ of an idea for one. But right now, he didn’t need to go home. He didn’t even feel hungry. He had no idea if he would see her again, but at the moment small mercies were all he had, and the picture was enough. He wasn’t alone any more.
‘I cannot agree with your returning that item to the four-legged one,’ Stormer said tightly. ‘Learned Mother,’ he added.
‘Every one of the four-legged corpses had one of those around its neck,’ Oomoing said.
‘Exactly! It must be important!’
‘Important to individuals,’ Oomoing corrected him. ‘Probably not important in the day-to-day running of this base. If it was some kind of computer that held the weapons codes, say, or other vital information, then probably only one of the four-legged ones would have it. Not every single one of them. Would you hand out a self-destruct button to each and every one of your men?’
Stormer glowered; Oomoing had no idea if he accepted her logic or not, but he wasn’t going to argue. If he ever did, chances were he would go straight
‘Feel better?’ Joel said.
‘Strength is returning. Thank you.’ Boon Round munched for a while. ‘My harness is uncomfortable. You did not put it on properly.’
‘Well, excuse me!’
‘If that is your desire.’
Well, we’re back to normal, aren’t we?
Joel thought. He picked out a pack of human food concentrate and bit into it. He looked up at the XCs. ‘Now what?’ he said.
Now, apparently, the XCs were going into a conference huddle. Joel looked dolefully at them and wondered if they were drawing up plans for an interesting execution. Somehow it didn’t seem as likely as it had an hour earlier, but . . .
One of the XCs was coming towards him – the big female. She held out one of her several hands and Joel’s eyes widened.
‘That’s my ident bracelet!’
The hand stayed outstretched. Joel reached out for it cautiously, ready to snatch his hand back at any moment; but still she stayed there, and so he took the bracelet and slid it onto his wrist.
‘Thanks. Thank you! Very much. Oh yes. Very much indeed, thank you.’
The XC looked blankly at him, then withdrew for another conference. Joel withdrew himself to the far side of the room and looked at his wrist thoughtfully. A mugshot of his own features looked back, mounted on the white plastic next to a bar code.
Then his finger sought out and pressed the red plastic square on the white band, and an image appeared in the air next to it. ‘Oh yes,’ he breathed. ‘Thank you, God.’
As well as the basic information stored on the bar code, the bracelet could store supplementary information, and if he had stuck to official procedure then the image should have been of his own face together with further details of blood group, allergies, religion, ethnicity, and last will and testament. Shortly before leaving for SkySpy, he had had a better idea.
Another face had appeared instead. Dark hair that could make the face look harsh when it was pulled back behind the head, or frame it to perfection when it hung loose. Bright blue eyes and a gaze that could blaze with fury or turn soft and tender. He had caught the picture just when the owner of the face was turning to him. It had been one of Admiralty Island’s perfect equatorial evenings and they had been walking along the west shore, watching the sunset. She hadn’t known what he was doing until she turned to say something and saw the camera, and in those eyes were irritation, amusement . . . and, just because he was there, that tenderness he knew so well.
Joel covered the image with his hand, and the warmth of the laser field suffused gently into his palm. For just a moment he had everything he wanted. He still didn’t know what was going to happen to him, and he didn’t have a plan for escaping – not even the germ of an idea for one. But right now, he didn’t need to go home. He didn’t even feel hungry. He had no idea if he would see her again, but at the moment small mercies were all he had, and the picture was enough. He wasn’t alone any more.
‘I cannot agree with your returning that item to the four-legged one,’ Stormer said tightly. ‘Learned Mother,’ he added.
‘Every one of the four-legged corpses had one of those around its neck,’ Oomoing said.
‘Exactly! It must be important!’
‘Important to individuals,’ Oomoing corrected him. ‘Probably not important in the day-to-day running of this base. If it was some kind of computer that held the weapons codes, say, or other vital information, then probably only one of the four-legged ones would have it. Not every single one of them. Would you hand out a self-destruct button to each and every one of your men?’
Stormer glowered; Oomoing had no idea if he accepted her logic or not, but he wasn’t going to argue. If he ever did, chances were he would go straight
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