Slave Race: 12/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick
Edwin knelt beside Cory, helping him to sit up. "You okay, Cor?"
"Sure." His lips felt stiff and slightly numb. "Uh... maybe we ought to get out of here..."
Comishvor glanced casually at the two Terrans. "Remain here, my psychics. I wish to speak to you." He turned again to his wife. "Go! And do not touch my psychics again!"
She glared at him. "You cannot force me to obey you! I am your wife. She is not!"
"Go," Comishvor repeated. "We will discuss this later."
The Lady went to the door, but turned before exiting, addressing Cory as though Comishvor did not exist. "Nothing in the sector can save you now, Terran psychic. Nothing!" She spun on her heel and went out in a swirl of robes. The door closed.
Edwin stood up and bent to help Cory. Cory found that his breath was coming short, that his ribs hurt, and that his eyes still wouldn't quite focus. Comishvor bent, lifted him effortlessly, and placed him on the bed. "You are damaged. Edwin, summon Jocki."
Edwin ran to the videophone on the desk. Comishvor seated himself beside Cory and smiled approvingly. "M'lady Gootishville will not harm you again, Cornelius. Do not fear her."
"Thanks, sir."
"You have done me a great service. I shall not forget it. My Lady Frishville has told me of your bravery and resourcefulness."
Cory smiled up at him. "It was a pleasure, sir. She's a terrific Lady."
"Indeed she is. I am gratified to see that we share certain preferences where females are concerned."
Cory laughed weakly. "Well, I prefer my women to be Terran, but I wouldn't mind one that looked like her."
Comishvor grinned broadly, rising to his feet. A knock sounded on the door. Edwin opened it and Dr. Jocki entered. He bowed. "Yes, M'lord?"
"See to Cornelius. He has been injured."
"Yessir." Jocki crossed to seat himself beside Cory.
"I shall be occupied for a time, Edwin," said Comishvor. "But you are to call me at once if there is any trouble."
"Yes, M'lord. And sir..."
"Edwin?"
"Thank you for coming so quickly."
Comishvor acknowledged his thanks with a slight inclination of the head and went out.
Edwin closed the door and turned around. "How is he, Doctor?"
Jocki was running a scanner over Cory's scalp. "Numerous bumps and bruises, a mild concussion, and a blaster burn. It strikes me that this young man has had some adventures in the past few days, eh, Cory?"
Cory grinned at him. In spite of everything, he was still feeling pleased with himself. "Yeah, some."
"What the blazes has been going on? What did Gootishville have to do with it?"
"He was caught by Lord Yoogashvor," Edwin explained.
"And he did all of this to you? Remind me never to cross that guy."
"Actually, he didn't do any of it," Cory told him. "It was his friends and relatives."
"Including Lady Gootishville, eh?"
"Oh, you know about their relationship?"
"She's his full blood sister. And she makes full use of it, too. And then, of course, old Yoogashvor's married to..." His voice trailed off and he bent over Cory, re-bandaging the injured shoulder.
"To Frishville," Cory said.
"Oh, you know about her." Jocki shook his head sadly.
"Yeah," Cory said.
"Met her on Yoogashvor's ship, huh? Pretty Lady. Comishvor doesn't like us to talk about her, though." Jocki sighed and stood up. "Well no permanent damage here. Just stay down for forty eight hours or so, and no acrobatics until I give you the okay."
"Okay, doc."
"I'll have the cook bring you some soup." He snapped his case closed. "You psychic kids--always taking on guys who are too much for you." He shook his head, grinned, and went out.
Edwin laughed. "Guess he hasn't heard about what you did yet."
"I guess I should have told him. He's going to be mad."
"Aw, none of our business. Jils don't like their servants talking about them. How're you feeling, buddy?"
"Pretty good, now" Cory said. "Man, you know, I didn't think about Lady Gootishville being upset with me. All I could think of was how happy Comishvor'd be."
"I wonder why she *is* so upset. Sure, she's had him to herself for a long time, but most Jils take multiple wives..."
"We aren't supposed to be talking about this, remember?"
"I don't think he'll mind after what you've done for him."
"Maybe not." Cory glanced uneasily toward the door. "Of course, she might just be mad 'cause Lady Frishville's her sister-in-law. I didn't realize until just now that Yoogashvor was her brother."
"Lady Frishville didn't tell you?"
"Not a word. Not that it would have made any difference. Poor Lady Frishville was more of a hostage than a wife. If Comishvor did anything Yoogashvor didn't like, he'd take it out on Frishville."
"What a trenchcrawler."
"Yeah. I wonder if that isn't part of the reason old Gootishville's so upset. Now she has no hold at all over Comishvor. If he doesn't do everything she says, she can't retaliate by complaining to her brother the next chance she gets."
Edwin laughed softly. "Serves her right. Her husband takes Lady Frishville as his mistress, and she has to lump it. Too bad Comishvor can't marry her. I don't suppose the Jils believe in divorce. I've never heard of a Jil getting divorced."
"Neither have I, but they sure believe in taking mistresses... at least, the lower class ones do. Comishvor told me that Trashvor had three wives and at least a dozen mistresses."
Edwin nodded. "And that one who came aboard last year--remember him, Mizashvor?"
"Yeah. He had half a dozen Ladies with him. They couldn't all have been his wives."
Edwin's brow furrowed. "I just hope Lord Comishvor can protect you as he promised. Lady Gootishville looked pretty upset."
"Oh, I'll be okay."
"I sure hope so."
"She wouldn't dare do anything, would she? Comishvor'd kill her."
"Jils don't kill their wives."
"Well, maybe not, but he'd be awfully upset."
"I just hope that holds her back," said Edwin worriedly. "Be real careful, Cor."
"I will, Ed."
**********
Chapter 14
Corala
City of Franik
2181
"The company's folded," Cecil told Loreen. He poured a shot of whiskey and downed it in a single gulp.
Nine-year-old Stephen stared up at his father with wide blue eyes. "Are we going to be poor now, Father?"
Cecil poured himself another drink. "No, Stephen, I'll always take care of my family."
Loreen turned away, tears smarting in her eyes. It had taken exactly four years for the trade company managed successfully by her father for thirty years to fall apart under Cecil's direction.
"What will you do, Father?"
They were gathered in the kitchen of their apartment home. Loreen stood by the sink, eyes on the piled dishes. Cecil poured himself a third drink. Karl, now eleven, stood silently by the doorway.
There had been no sign and no word from her parents since that terrible day four years ago now, when Ellie had been born. They had vanished as though by magic. The Patrol had shown up again three days after Loreen had come home, questioning her--questioning the kids...
But they had never questioned Cecil. The fact was disturbing. Why hadn't Cecil been questioned, too? He had worked for her father. He was son-in-law to the fugitives...
Was it because he had already told all he knew? Was it Cecil who had reported them? Cecil made no secret of the fact that he considered Terran psychics to be nauseating perverts. Cecil had often spoken of them with derision and anger. In his mind, Terran psychics were born degenerate criminals, like the Jils said. They didn't deserve to live.
And, according to the Jils, Loreen's mother was a psychic. Had Cecil somehow guessed? For the thousandth time, Loreen's mind returned to that morning four years ago. Alan Westover had killed Lord Salthvor. It had been all over the news. Karl had irritated Cecil, and Loreen had defended her son. A fight had ensued. Cecil had struck her, knocking her down and hurting her badly, and, as though on cue, Alice Cornwall had called. Although Loreen had not mentioned the assault, Alice had instantly deduced it.
And before that, when Loreen was in labor with Karl on the way, Alice had also called, that time in the middle of the night. Somehow her psychic powers had told her each time Loreen was in trouble. Had Cecil made the connection? Had he notified the Jilectans?
A pull on her skirt brought her back to the present. Four-year-old Ellie was tugging at her, asking to be picked up. Loreen hefted her, seating her on the sink board.
Cecil was speaking again. "I have a few connections, Loreen. There's an opening at the house of Lord Craxvor, a job in maintenance and clean-up. I may be able to get it."
Stephen's nose wrinkled. "You're going to work for a Jil, Father?"
"Stephen! I won't have you talking that way in our home! They aren't Jils; they are Jilectans, and they're our masters. They're superior to us in every way!"
Stephen made a rude noise.
"Stephen! Go to your room!"
"Aw, Father..."
"Go!"
Sulking, the boy went out. Karl, his face still completely sober, followed him. Ellie wiggled, insinuating herself under Loreen's arm.
"The pay is quite adequate to our needs," Cecil told her. "I'm to go in for my interview tomorrow."
"I didn't realize you knew anyone who worked for a Jilectan household," said Loreen.
Cecil's eyes shifted a little. He shrugged. "Charlie and I have known each other quite awhile. He takes care of the grounds on Lord Jaxvor's estate. Jaxvor is Craxvor's elder brother."
"What's Craxvor's profession?"
"He's a scientist."
"Where does he live?"
"About twenty kilometers from here."
"Oh. What part of town?"
"West side of town."
"What town?"
"Drevelle."
"Oh." Loreen knew that Lord Tralthvor, cousin to Lord Salthvor, lived in the rolling hills outside of Drevelle. Was it possible Cecil had become acquainted with Charlie when he... but she was fantasizing now. She had no proof that Cecil had been the informer.
The following morning Cecil departed for his interview. Loreen saw the boys to the shuttle and on their way to school and perched Ellie at the table with her bowl of cereal. The little girl dabbled in it with her spoon, not really eating. Loreen prepared a cup of coffee and sat with her, sipping the brew and wondering how their lives would change now that Cecil would have a new job.
She rubbed a hand across her eyes. Last night she had dreamed of Edwin again. The dream had awakened her, and she could have sworn she had heard him calling her. How strange it was! Edwin, dead for twelve years, still haunted her dreams. Would he continue to do so a hundred years from now?
Ellie turned her head. "Mommy!" she piped, "someone's outside the door!"
The child was as good as having a watchdog around, Loreen thought. She always heard visitors before they announced themselves. "Well, hold on. Let's see if he knocks or goes away." Loreen was in no mood for visitors this morning.
Ellie was silent, eyes fixed on the door in a way that Loreen found oddly disturbing. The little girl took a bite of her cereal, the stuff dripping on the table from her spoon. There was a sharp rap on the door.
Loreen sighed and stood up. Ellie giggled. "He's running away!" She jumped down from the chair, crossed to the window and climbed up on another chair to peer out. "Look, Mommy!"
Loreen came over beside her. A boy of perhaps fourteen had emerged from the apartment, legs flying, slowed to a walk as he reached the sidewalk, and strode sedately over to a parked aircar. He got in and the vehicle lifted off. Loreen caught a glimpse of a woman at the controls, but nothing else.
She looked at Ellie. "You're sure that was our visitor?"
Ellie nodded. She jumped down and went back to the table, climbing up in her chair again. Loreen frowned and went over to the door.
She peered for a few moments through the peephole. No one was in sight. She opened the door and looked out.
The hallway outside was deserted, but at her feet lay an envelope. Loreen picked it up, glanced around again, then stepped back inside, shutting the door and locking it
Ellie was still playing with her cereal. Loreen went over to the table, seated herself, and broke the seal on the letter.
"What's that, Mommy?"
"A letter. Are you finished with your cereal?"
Ellie dabbled distastefully for a moment. "Yeah, I'm done."
"Go play, then."
"Okay." Ellie jumped down and clattered into the living room. The video came on.
Loreen removed a slip of paper from the envelope and her heart jumped as she recognized her mother's precise handwriting.
Dear Lori,
I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this letter to you. I have no doubt that you've been watched, and all your mail monitored for the past four years. I haven't dared try to contact you for fear it would put you in danger.
As you are probably aware of by now, I am a psychic. I have known all my life that I'm a little different from the average Terran. When the Jilectans identified Terran psychics for what they were thirteen years ago, I knew I was one of these dreadful degenerates. Your father knew it, too. He and I have always been able to communicate somehow, although he isn't a psychic.
When I left you four years ago, I knew I had been discovered. Part of my talents warn me when danger threatens me, or someone I love. I felt it strongly that day, but I also knew you were in no danger. I don't know how I was found out, but someone must have suspected and turned me in. I don't know who it was, but now that your father and I have been found, I hope to find out.
We've lived for the last four years on a Terran colonized world. I can't mention which one, in case this letter is intercepted. People there helped us and said nothing. Then, about a month ago, we were found by the Terran Underground.
I'm sure you've heard of the Underground, Lori. They protect psychics from the Jilectans. You wouldn't believe the people I've met here. Alan Westover, himself, is here. He's the cutest little guy--your Dad says he could charm the pants off of Halthzor, himself. Hah! Doesn't that create a picture? Mark Linley's a gorgeous devil--just like his picture, with girlfriends galore, the same as your father, when we met.
I'm on one of their bases as I write this--a beautiful place, all country and sunshine. The Jils would love it. Too bad they don't know about it.
I'm sure you've wondered what happened to Barbara. I called her right after your dad and I ran for it. I sensed danger for her, too. I'm certain now that she's a psychic. She inherited the trait from me, but you, Lori, for some reason, did not. Neither you nor Cecil is a psychic, and therefore your children cannot be. The psychic trait is inherited directly from the parents to their offspring, and the trait is dominant. Therefore, you cannot pass it on to your children from me. You aren't a psychic, and your children will be free of the trait.
Anyway, getting back to Barbara. We're still looking for her. She and her family have vanished, but at least we assume that they're still alive. Undoubtedly Barbara also sensed danger and took them into hiding, as we did. I hope they will surface in time.
I hope you have managed to live in peace with Cecil over these past years. I hated leaving you like that, but there was no choice. I have had spies from the Underground check up on you, and they assure me that you are safer to stay where you are, as long as you have committed no crime. To join us here would make you a fugitive from the law, and your children as well. The penalty for belonging to the Underground is public execution.
I love you, Lori, and so does your father. Kiss the kiddies for us, and a special hug for your little girl. Happy birthday, Ellie.
Love,
Mom and Dad
Loreen held the letter before her, drinking in the words. Exhilaration bubbled up in her. Mom and Dad were alive. They were safe within the Terran Underground! She had long since given up hope of ever knowing what had happened.
The Underground--that outlaw organization which had been in the newsstrips more and more often for the past five years. "Undergrounders" were maligned and blasted by the news media, and secretly admired by younger, more romantic Terrans. Unknown to Cecil, Loreen admired them, herself. They protected psychics. Edwin and Cory had been psychics. She had loved them. Psychics might be criminals, but they were her kind of criminal.
But of course, the propaganda about psychics was a lie. Alice Cornwall was no criminal, and neither was Barbara. That was a story thought up by the Jils to turn Terrans and other species against Terran psychics. In some cases, like Cecil, it worked. On many it didn't. Alan Westover was admired and even hero-worshiped by many as a symbol of eventual freedom from the Jilectan oppression.
Ellie entered the kitchen, her blue eyes large and troubled. "Mommy, I don't feel good."
Loreen put the letter into her pocket. "What's wrong, sweetie?"
"I don't know."
"Do you have a tummy ache?"
Ellie shook her head. "My eye hurts--and my nose."
Loreen put her in a chair and examined the eye. It was slightly reddened, but that appeared to be from rubbing. Loreen peered under the lid. "Did you get something in it."
"No." Ellie started to cry. "It just hurts--and my nose hurts, too. Mommy, I think Karl's been hurt."
"Karl? Why do you think that, baby?"
She shrugged. "I heard him yelling. I think he's been in a fight with that boy, Nowell."
"Karl doesn't fight," Loreen said uncertainly. "What's wrong with your nose, honey?"
"It hurts!" She rubbed her hand across it, smearing tears across her face. "It feels like somebody hit me!"
Loreen examined the little girl's nose. "It looks okay to me."
Ellie nodded, wiping her face again with both tiny hands. "It's not so bad now."
"Are you okay, then?"
"Yeah. Except..."
"Except what?"
"Well. I think Karl's still in trouble."
"Honey, don't be silly. Why do you think that?"
"Because I hear him talking. I think he got taken to the principal."
Loreen frowned at her daughter. "Does Karl often talk to you when he's not with you?"
Ellie nodded solemnly. "Sure. Doesn't he talk to you? I thought he talked to everybody."
Imagination, Loreen thought. She shook her head. "He doesn't talk to me. Does he talk to Stephen?"
Ellie shrugged. "I don't know. I've never asked him."
"Well, don't." Loreen sat back on her heels, surveying her young daughter with concern. Imagination! It must be. Ellie couldn't be a psychic. Alice had said so in the letter, and she must have gotten her information from the Underground. The Underground must certainly know. Psychic talents were inherited directly from the parents. Neither Loreen nor Cecil were psychics. Therefore, their children couldn't be.
But Karl could! Karl's father had been a psychic! Perhaps that was the explanation. Psychics apparently could communicate with nons. Alice had communicated with her husband, Edwin had communicated with Loreen, so why shouldn't Edwin's son do the same? It made perfect sense. "Ellie?"
"Yes, Mommy?"
"I don't want you to talk about this to anyone. Understand?"
"Okay, Mommy." The little girl's blue eyes were sober. "Why?"
"Because it could be dangerous for Karl if you do. Understand?"
"Okay, Mommy. Is Karl a psychic?"
Loreen gulped. "I don't know. He could be. It'd be safer for him if we don't say anything."
"Okay." Ellie stood up. "Am I a psychic, Mommy?"
"No, honey, you're not."
"Okay." Typically, the little girl accepted all statements at face value. "I just hope Karl's okay."
Loreen considered calling the school, then decided against it. Anything that so much as suggested psychic powers would be pounced upon at once.
But as it turned out, a call was unnecessary. The videophone buzzed five minutes later. Loreen waited for a second buzz before she answered. "Hello?"
The face of Karl's teacher appeared on the screen. "Mrs. Warren?"
"Yes?"
"Karl has been in a fight. The medic has examined him and there seems to be no serious damage, but fighting at school cannot be tolerated. He has been suspended for the rest of the day. I must ask you to come get him."
"All right," said Loreen. "I'll be right there."
Karl and his teacher, Mr. Flannigan, met her outside the principal's office. Karl stood straight and silent as Loreen went up to him, examining his injuries. His right eye was surrounded with a dark bruise, and it was obvious his nose had been bleeding.
The teacher put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Karl."
"I'm sorry about this, sir," said Karl. He started for the door.
"Mrs. Warren," the teacher said, "I'd like to talk to you in private for a minute."
"Karl, take Ellie out to the car." Loreen handed him the keys.
Karl went out, holding Ellie by the hand. Loreen turned to the teacher. "Yes?"
Mr. Flannigan was smiling. "I didn't want to say it in front of your son, Mrs. Warren, but I was very proud of that boy. He jumped a kid 10 kilos bigger than himself to help a little girl the kid was picking on."
"Really?"
"Yes. I'm sorry the rules are so stringent, but in a school with such a varied class of students we must be very firm. Otherwise I'd give your boy a commendation rather than a punishment. You can tell him in private that I said so, but warn him to say nothing to anyone else."
"How's the little girl?"
"A bumped knee. No real damage. If it makes you feel any better, Nowell, the boy who instigated this got a good switching and suspension for two weeks. It may help, but probably not. The kid's a chronic bully." Mr. Flannigan shook her hand. "You have a good kid there, Mrs. Warren. I wouldn't mind one like him."
"Thank you."
"Good day, Mrs. Warren." The teacher went back into the office. Stunned but pleased, Loreen went out to the car.
Cecil was home when she arrived. He looked up in surprise as she entered with the two children. "Loreen? What's happened? Karl, have you been fighting?"
Karl hung his head. "Yes, Father."
Cecil came to his feet, setting down his beer can. "And you've been suspended, I assume?"
"Yes, Father--just for the day."
"The other boy got two weeks," Loreen said quickly. "He was picking on a little girl and Karl tried to stop him."
"That makes no difference. Rules are rules. Go to your room, young man. I'll be up to see you in a few minutes."
Karl went out. Loreen turned furiously on her husband. "Cecil, for God's sake, can't you listen to me? The boy did what was right, knowing it would probably get him in trouble. His teacher told me he was proud of him--and you should be, too! The troublemaking kid was a lot bigger than Karl, but..."
"Rules are rules, Loreen, and if the teacher's so proud of him, why did he suspend him?"
"School rules, no fighting, but..."
"Exactly."
"Cecil, you're impossible. Just for once can't you look past rules and see that your son did a good thing?"
"He got in trouble, Loreen--because he broke the rules."
"Would you rather he'd stood back and let the bully beat up the little girl?"
"If he had, he wouldn't have been suspended. The bully would have been the only one in trouble. I want what's best for the boy."
"That's a lie!" Ellie spoke unexpectedly, her voice shrill with righteous indignation. "You just don't like Karl! You *try* to find things to get mad at him about!"
"Ellie!"
"You do! You do!" Ellie ran past Loreen and down the hallway.
Cecil faced her. "Now see what you've done!"
Loreen didn't answer. She followed Ellie down the hallway. Cecil came after her, grasping her wrist and yanking her around. "Don't you ever just walk away from me, woman!"
Loreen stood passive in his hold, waiting for what was to come. After a moment he let her go. "All right. You may go."
Without a word she went on down the hall and opened the door to Karl's bedroom. He was sitting on his bed and Ellie was beside him, both small arms clutching him firmly around the chest. She was crying, and he was stroking her head gently, speaking soothingly. He glanced up at Loreen and smiled with that odd maturity in his expression that always pulled at her heart--it made him look so much like Edwin. "It's okay, Mom. Don't feel bad."
A lump rose in her throat. She crossed the room to sit beside him. "I'm proud of you son. You did the right thing."
"Thanks, Mom."
"How's your eye?"
"Okay."
"What exactly happened?"
"Oh, that creepy Nowell was bothering Tricia again, calling her names and pushing her around. She was crying and trying to fight back, but he's two years older and a lot bigger than her. I told him to leave her alone, and he told me to... well, sort of to get lost. Then he pushed her again and she fell down and skinned her knee. That was when I hit him."
Ellie smiled through her tears, hugging Karl tighter. Loreen put an arm around him. "Good for you. Look, I'll get you an ice pack for that eye, and I'll bring your lunch in. I think you'd better just stay in here for awhile. Get your studying done, and then read or something."
"Is Father going to spank him?" Ellie asked.
"Not if I can help it."
"Mom!" Karl caught her arm. "Don't try to stop him. He'll just hit you, and it'll make it worse. It'll be over with quick. I can take it."
Loreen swallowed hard and leaned over to kiss her boy. Karl smiled up at her.
Loreen stood up, feeling the letter in her pocket crinkle with the movement. Her mother would undoubtedly contact her again, and perhaps next time would give her a means of replying. She could write that she wanted to come live at the Underground base with them, but should she? Was it fair to the children, to turn them into outlaws, to rob them of every chance at a normal life? Karl might have to join. If he was a psychic, the Underground might be the safest place for him. But she didn't know for certain that he was a psychic. And what about Ellie and Stephen? Stephen wanted to join the Terran Space Corps. Karl wanted to go into medicine. Would there be any chance for her sons in an outlaw organization? Probably not.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and went out. Cecil was drinking a beer and watching a re-run on the video. He frowned at Loreen. "You'll turn him into a mamma's boy, Loreen."
"I suppose I might, but maybe it's for the best. You don't want him to fight."
He stared at her a moment, unsure of her meaning, then angry. He stood up.
"Sorry," Loreen said quickly. "I'm sure I do overprotect the boy a bit. How about the job? Did you get it?"
He subsided. "Yes, I got it. I start in two days."
"How nice. I had no idea it was so easy to get jobs in Jilectan houses."
"We...ll, you have to know the right people."
"I suppose." And no doubt it also helps if you've proven your loyalty by betraying one of your own family members as a psychic... oh, stop it, Loreen! You don't know that! "Congratulations, Cecil."
"Thank you, my dear."
Loreen went into the kitchen to prepare lunch.
**********
Chapter 15
Edwin entered his quarters aboard the *Lady Frishville*, and plopped down on his bunk. He was tired. This latest raid had been an exhausting one. Cory had lingered behind, talking to that pretty servant girl who was Lady Gootishville's personal maid. Edwin grinned to himself. He could see why Cory liked her. She was very lovely, with rich, dark curls, almond shaped eyes which spoke of her Asian ancestry, and a small, rosebud mouth. She was exactly Cory's height, or possibly a fraction taller, but slim and supple as a Coralian whiffle-stir. Her eyes lit up whenever she saw him. It would be strange, Edwin thought, if Cory married. Cory had always been the playboy type--the ladies' man, with many girlfriends, and serious about none of them. Since they had been on Comishvor's ship, the numbers of women had been limited. Comishvor didn't allow many Terran women aboard ship. There were quite a number at the base, however--wives and girlfriends of the pirates. They lived well, but were never allowed to leave. Comishvor didn't trust Terran females to hold their tongues.
Since Lady Frishville's rescue, relations between Lady Gootishville and Cory had become increasingly strained. Cory avoided her. Still, a few occurrences since the rescue certainly pointed to her--the poison in Cory's wine, detected by Edwin before his friend drank it, the Trachum swamp asp in his bed, also detected by Edwin, the lift falling five decks after Cory had been about to step on it. He had felt a premonition and pulled back, preventing two pirates from boarding as well. The lift had broken during the descent.
Edwin shuddered, thinking about it. Eventually she was going to get Cory, and his friend wooing M'lady's servant girl wasn't going to help things. Edwin wished Cory had chosen a more convenient girl to become interested in. Oh well, that was Cory's way. Old Lady Goot shouldn't really mind, as long as the girl didn't neglect her duties or something.
Cory entered the room, whistling softly between his teeth, and dropped on the bed. Ed glanced across at him. "Making progress, pal?"
"Naturally." Cory flopped back on the bunk and crossed his legs. "What do you think of Miriam, Ed?"
**********
tbc
