Chapter Nine

You Can Take Him In Your Pouch

       Crys was asleep. Harry, Al and Woof were lounging in the gym-become-rec-room. Crys and Al had installed one of the three spare monitors in the room so they could watch videos or marvel at the wonders of the Universe on their frequent stops. They were watching The Night of the Lepus, a really great, cheesy horror movie about giant mutated bunny rabbits. “You know,” Al said, “before I saw this film, I never realized that DeForest Kelly couldn’t really act. He was just such a natural telling Kirk that the crewman in the red shirt was dead.”

       Harry laughed. “Now, now, Al. Don’t speak ill of the dead.” He flinched from the screen, “Watching the bloody, giant, stuffed rabbit dummies that they used in this movie is really embarrassing. I consulted on the effects. Lee, the trainer for the live rabbits wanted me to do the dummies, but I just couldn’t bring myself to work on a set where they threw the damned things at the actors, and the actors would wrestle them around. That was fine in the fifties, but in nineteen seventy-two? I didn’t think so back then.”

       “And now?” Al asked.

       Harry shrugged. “Who could’ve known that it would turn out to be a ‘classic’?” He smiled at that and Al smiled with him. They had grown really close since this adventure had begun. He had been a little concerned when Crys had started showing an interest in him by ignoring him, and sometimes even being a bit snippy or short with him. But they had gotten past that, too.

       Now they were pretty much a tight little group of friends. Al glanced over at the makeshift terrarium they had made for the sand creatures. They were dormant right now, but sometimes they would sing for hours, forming complex patterns of color in the sand. They had also taken a sample of the black sand, but they kept that in another compartment as far away as they could from this group of little aliens. If either even so much as heard the other, they would go into fits. Crys had even gone so far as to rig a shielded case for the black predators. They thought that they might be able to receive broadcasts from each other, and they wanted to keep each specie as calm as possible.

       Woof was on Harry’s lap, sleeping soundly. He came awake with a huge yawn, a stretch and opened one eye. “Welcome back,” Harry said. Woof pretended that he didn’t hear him. He slid off of Harry’s lap and sat upright where he’d landed. “Five bucks says he goes for the Crunchies,” Harry said.

       “That's a sucker's bet normally,” Al replied, “but you’re on. I say he says ‘hi’ to our sand buddies.”

       Woof licked his lips once and trotted to the table that held the alien life form. With a flick of his tail, he was on the table and sniffing disinterestedly at the spot on which he’d landed.

       Harry looked disgusted, and Al pulled a small spiral note pad from his pocket. “Let’s see, now. That’s five added to the twenty for Crys’ perfect, unbroken eggs, and the thirty from the roach race . . .”

       “Now, that’s not fair!” Harry complained. “You know that mine would have won if not for ‘Whiskers for Brains’ over there catching it right at the edge of the circle.”

       “Yeah, yeah,” Al laughed. “Don’t make the bet, if you . . .” he trailed off for a second as he thought of an appropriate “manglation” of the cliché, “if you can’t trust the pet,” he finished lamely.

       “Okay, Junior. But I’ll have to owe you. I’m a little short, and the bank doesn’t open for another forty light years or so.” He smiled at his improving repartee.

       Woof had lain down on the table next to the terrarium and was watching the sand with his eyes half closed. “I’m not looking at you,” his expression said.

       “Analysis complete,” Jeeves said to anyone who cared to listen.

       “About time,” Harry said as he leapt up. Al was right behind him. After a few seconds scanning the screen Harry and Al looked at each other. “Next flight out of the galaxy, leaving in one hour!” he announced.

       “Yes!” from Al. “Should I wake Sleeping Beauty?”

       “About time somebody admitted to my . . . charms,” came a feminine voice from the doorway.

       They looked up, and Harry asked, “Did you hear the whole thing? Next jump takes us to within a quarter light year from Planet X. We’re leaving the galaxy!”

       Crys gave them the totally unconscious feline stretch and yawn that showed the tightness of the curves under her pajamas. “Groovy, Hep Cats. What’s for breakfast?”

       The entire two second journey out of the galaxy was fairly uneventful. Jeeves did, however, register a collision that just clipped whatever it was they had gone by. Collisions weren’t unusual in the least. The computer had registered multiple hits on each jump that they had made. The inertia field protected them from any possible harm as it was absolutely impervious in a mathematically and so far, physical sense. None of them fully understood why, and it was one of the myriad questions that they had for Charlie, whenever they caught up to the wascally wabbit. They had even joked about feeling a kinship with the coyote. Al and Harry did, in any case. Crys wasn’t much of a joker unless she was caught in a really rare mood. And that’s not to say that she didn’t have a sense of humor, either!

       All of their previous collisions had registered as asteroids, comets or other natural bodies.

       This one was different. It was a large construct made from refined metal and other refined materials. No one asked what it was. They had a pretty good idea. Al asked in a small voice, “Was it . . .?” He trailed off.

       Crys was scanning the monitor. “No, it wasn’t Charlie. It was way too big. But it definitely was a ship of some sort, and we only clipped it.”

       “How far back?” Harry asked.

       “We hit it less than a light year from go. We were still well within the galaxy proper, near one of the lonelier solar systems. Harry,” she said looking up, “they might still be intact.”

       Harry looked at both of his friends. “Yeah. We need to see if they are ok, not that I have any idea what we could to help if they need it.” Crys and Al nodded in agreement.

       Woof was still on the table ignoring his new alien friends out of the corners of his slitted eyes. Suddenly the sand erupted into colorful movement and another heavenly musical composition. Woof pretended no more. He was so startled that in his rush to stand, he fell off of the table onto the carpet below. Naturally, he landed mostly on his feet, but it was anything but graceful. The three friends laughed loudly above the roaring, intricate melodies and crescendos, and Woof looked mortified. Cats have absolutely no sense of humor when it comes to their own actions. Woof was no exception, and he flipped his tail in irritation as he jumped back to the table top and crouched in stalking mode facing the terrarium – even if he was only one foot away.

       Crys was at the console bringing up coordinates for Al. Al was at the controls waiting on her. Harry was standing behind Al. “Anytime your ready, Al,” he said.

       “Just waiting on the Lady.”

       “Then you’re backing up. Here are your numbers,” Crys said.

       They were there. In front of them was a large, squarish box of a construct. It looked old. Pieces of equipment and slabs of metal and fabric were hanging from the sides in disarray. The whole thing was tumbling end over end at great speed, and they could make out a large chunk that was missing from a corner. The crew watched it for a minute without saying anything. The sand had stopped singing, and it was totally quiet in the room. Harry broke the silence. “Any ideas? We’ve got to stop it from spinning somehow. Al?”

       Al looked at Crys. “We could try to circle it in the opposite direction and try to brush it with the inertia field.”

       Crys shook her head. “I don’t think so, Al. The field is hard. We’d risk doing a lot more damage. Give a few minutes to think.”

       They all sat, staring at the spinning cube on the screen. It was Harry that came up with the plan that they would try first. “Can we match its spin?” he asked.

       Crys said absently, “Yeah, Jeeves would have no problems with that.” Then her eyes focused and she looked back at Harry. “I see what you’re getting at! Like a shuttle docking maneuver at a rotating space station, only on a smaller scale. We’d have to turn the field off before we could approach it, but yeah, I think it would work.”

       Al leaned back in his chair. “You know I’m not really a pilot. I’d have no idea how to dock with anything that small and still moving.”

       Crys punched him on the arm. “Come on, Tiger. Jeeves will handle the tricky part. Where’s your balls?”

       Al looked miffed. “Let’s leave my balls out of this. I’m just telling you that I have reservations.” He turned back to the console to pout.

       “Hey, Al, you know I would never really question your manhood. Sometimes I’m just not too sensitive.”

       Harry looked surprised. “Hey, Junior, this is not one to miss. She’s actually telling us that she is fallible. You’d better make a note of this in your book.” He laughed, “I’ll even sign it as a witness.”

       Now it was Crys’ turn to get p.o.’d. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gentlemen. If I’m wrong, I always admit it. What do you guys talk about anyway, when I’m not around?”

       Al’s mood lightened. “Nothing much. Smooth, flowing grace. Tight, well shaped muscles that fit the skeleton like they were made for it. Elusive, aloof attitude, but always watching everything. The need to be the center of attention.”

       Harry was nodding eagerly.

       Crys looked stricken. “I am not aloof, and I DON’T need attention!”

       “Who’s talking about you?” Harry laughed.

       Al agreed, “Yeah, I was talking about Woof!”

       “Men!”

       Woof heard his name, but the only acknowledgement was one ear that rotated to face them.

       “Ok, ok, enough. Are you ready to give it a try?” Harry asked.

       Crys still stared at them like she wasn’t quite sure if they had been kidding, then decided that they had. “Let me do some quick figuring,” she said as she rapidly pounded the keys. She looked up from the screen at Al and said, “Jeeves can handle the whole thing. You just need to be ready to get us out if anything goes wrong.”

       “That sounds like something I can handle,” Al said and rested his hand gently on the stick.

       Crys finished her keyboarding and hit the “Any” key. “Maneuver beginning,” she said. Al and Harry watched the main view screen while Crys watched the monitor.

       The Klatuu began spinning slowly at first, and within a few seconds it had synched up with the alien ship. Then it began drifting toward it. Crys said, “I have to turn off the field so we can touch it. Then I’ll crank it back up wide enough to enclose both of us. This could be a little tricky.”

       “Could be?” Al said.

       Harry said, “A little tricky?”

       Crys grinned without taking her eyes from the screen. “What’s a matter, Boys? Nervous?”

       Al said nothing but Harry offered, “Me? But don’t bother answering. Just concentrate.”

       Quickly they felt the impact. That made Al jump because he was so used to the drive dampening out all sensations like that.

       “Field engaged,” Crys reported, and the ship began to slow its spin. A few seconds later they were at dead stop. She looked up at Harry. “What now, Boss?”

       Harry shook his head. “Any suggestions, Al?”

       “Well, let’s try communicating. Maybe they’re broadcasting on the radio. We sure as hell can’t go visit them. They probably think we’re pirates or something, and I’ll bet they would shoot first and ask questions later.”

       Harry and Crys both agreed. Crys cranked up the radio and began scanning the waves. They heard a lot of static, but not much more. “Record a greeting and broadcast it across the spectrum,” Al suggested.

       The alien sand chose that moment to begin another ethereal symphony. It was Harry’s turn to be irritated. “Can’t we turn them down?” he asked rhetorically. The other two just looked at him. “What?” he asked. “I just can’t hear the damned radio.”

       The radio sprang to life. Voices were coming from the speakers. They couldn’t understand the words, but it was definitely coming from a sentient being trying to communicate. Crys began broadcasting back on the same frequency. “Hello, hello? We hear you but we don’t understand your language.” Harry was looking at her like she was nuts. “What’s wrong? You think I should try French?” She went back to talking into the microphone.

       “Smart ass.” He said.

       The music reached a peak and then fell gently into silence. The voices got more excited. Al said, “I believe that they picked up our little musician buddies’ broadcast.”

       Crys stopped, looked at him and said, “I bet you’re right! How can we take advantage of it?”

       Neither had any ideas. Suddenly Al gripped her shoulder hard and pointed to the screen. Something had exited the alien ship and was making its way along the dilapidated side of its ship toward the Klatuu. Harry said, “Well, there’s one problem solved.”

       Crys shrugged off Al’s grip and jumped up. “Where are you going?” Al and Harry asked at the same time.

       “Weapons,” she said without turning around.

       “R-row,” Woof said from his perch.

       “Not now, Woof,” Harry said without looking at him.

       “Rr-ralph ree!” Woof called, louder this time.

       Harry looked over at him. Woof was backing away from the terrarium, but keeping his eyes on the living sand. The sand was rising up in an anamorphic arm and searching around the lid. “Al, look!” he whispered.

       Al caught his breath. “Is that top secure?”

       “Oh, hell,” Harry said as he dashed for the table.

       Woof hissed once and then jumped down and ran out the door like it had just seen a cat-eating mouse.

       Harry reached the home made enclosure and slammed his hands down on the lid just as the sand drove a pile driver into it. Harry held it down, but just barely. “Al, give me a hand. Quick!”

       Al jumped to his aid and added his weight to the top. “Christ, Harry,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m glad it didn’t figure this out when nobody was looking!”

       Harry turned white. “What if it’s already done this before?”

       “Shit,” AL said.

       Just then, Crys came back carrying pistols and shot guns. She took one look at the two of them and immediately assessed the situation correctly. She dropped the guns that weren’t strapped to her body and headed back out the door. “Hang on! I’ll be right back!”

       The sand rammed the lid again, and it rose a quarter of an inch for half a second. “How could it be that strong?” Harry asked.

       “Blind doe,” Al replied between clenched teeth.

       “What?” Harry asked.

       “No eye deer,” came the answer.

       Harry rolled his eyes. “You have got to be kidding.” He shook his head and said, “Joking in the face of disaster.”

       Crys came running back in carrying a roll of duct tape. She looked winded. “We just had to put the storage on the other side of the ship,” she said between breaths. But she was pulling off a length of tape as she spoke.

       She made short work of wrapping the super strong tape around the entire case in several areas. The two men relaxed their grip. “Thanks,” Harry told her. “Those little buggers are strong. I don’t know how much longer we could have held it closed.”

       Crys smiled, but frowned in the next second. They all heard the metallic clanging reverberating through the ship. “They’re here,” she said. She turned, grabbed up a shotgun and raced out the door toward the air lock.

       Harry and Al strapped on the pistols and then picked up the shotguns. They were modified to hold eight shells in a magazine instead of the three single loading that were stock. The pistol belts held three additional magazines each. Al told Harry, “I’ll bet they’re loaded with dum dums.”

       Harry shook his head. “No, Junior. She doesn’t want us to have to be able to aim. They’re the large variety buckshot.”

       They headed after Crys and caught up to her standing to the side of the closed inner airlock door. They could hear the banging very loudly now. “Shall we let our guest in, Gentlemen?” she asked.

       Harry nodded, and Crys slapped the button to open the outer door. Al said in a whisper, “Open the pod bay doors, Hal.” Harry smiled at him.

       The outer door slid open and a bipedal being in an air tight suit crawled in on hands and knees. It stood up, and Crys pressed the airlock cycle button. The outer door slid shut, and as the pressure equalized, the tension inside the ship became almost unbearable. When it finished cycling, she eased her face to the window and looked in. Her eyes grew wide, and she breathed, “It’s a woman.”

       Harry signaled Al, “Cover us from that other doorway, Junior. Crys, I’ve got your back.”

       Crys nodded, stepped back and pressed the open inner door button. There stood what looked to be a woman of about seventy-five, shoulder length mostly gray hair, and lots of wrinkles. She was holding her helmet under one arm.

       “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” They all heard the words in their heads. The old woman’s lips never moved. Crys drew in a sharp breath and leveled her shotgun at the visitor. Harry did the same. “No need for that, My Dears. I’m mostly harmless.” She walked forward into the ship proper, waving her hand as if to dismiss the weapons. She looked around once, squinting at the bright lights. Then she looked first at Crys then at Harry. Then she looked over Harry’s shoulder and waved at Al. Al was shocked, but he didn’t flinch an inch.

       “Who are you,” Crys asked.

       “How do you speak our language?” came from Harry.

       “Evening, Ma’am,” Al offered.

       “All of your questions will be answered in due time,” they heard. “First, your most pressing question, ‘How am I speaking your language.’ Well, I’m not. I am sending my thoughts directly through the speech parts of your brains. You are just translating what I am sending.” She held up her hand, “And no, I can’t read your minds. I would only be able to read what you intentionally thought to me.” She put her hand on the wall to steady herself and closed her eyes.

       Al came out from the doorway toward her. “Are you ok?”

       Harry turned, “Al, get back there!” he snapped.

       Al stopped and looked as though he didn’t realize he had left his cover. He had a puzzled look on his face.

       Crys was on the woman in less than a heartbeat, the muzzle of her shotgun under the old lady’s chin. “Do that once more and we’ll be wiping your brains from the walls with Pine-Sol!” she hissed.

       “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the alien whined in their minds. “It’s hard for me not to influence such open minds. I truly mean no harm.” She was shaking all over.

       “We’re a private sort of life form,” Crys said, not relaxing a tiny bit. Al had retreated back to the doorway, and Harry hadn’t moved or taken his eyes from the woman.

       “Can you behave?” Harry asked curtly.

       “Yes, yes. But I need to sit, please. The trip over took most of what I had.” The old woman looked as though she could drop any second.

       Crys eased the gun barrel out from under her chin and said quietly, “I’ve got my eye on you.”

       Harry took her helmet and helped her toward the rec room. Crys followed, and Al brought up the rear. “I didn’t like that one little bit,” Al said to Crys in a whisper.

       “Yeah, spooky. And we don’t even know if whispering really does any good. You keep an eye on me, I’ll watch Harry, and you tell Harry to keep you in line,” Crys whispered back.

       Al Nodded, but he didn’t look very happy.

       They reached the room, and Harry led her over to one of the three comfortable chairs in the room. The old woman sat heavily. Harry sat on the arm of one facing her. Al and Crys didn’t sit.

       “Any chance you could dim those lights just a bit?” the old woman asked, squinting.

       Al looked at Harry, and Harry nodded slightly. Al dimmed the lights a small amount and went back to his place by the doorway.

       The old woman was fiddling with the fasteners on her suit. After a few seconds, Harry helped her undo them. Crys looked at Al, and Al raised his eyebrows. As the old lady was struggling out of her suit, she thought to them, “My name is Kaja Jofranka. My kumpania and I were heading out of that solar system when we were struck by an invisible force. We thought maybe it was a Paguba. They are raiders that hunt us and steal our treasures.” She looked up suddenly at them. “Not that we have any left.” She spat. “We thought that it was our end of days. And then you came. Devlesa avilan!” She stopped and looked at Harry. “It is God who brought you.” She finally stood and wriggled out of the suit. She was dressed in very colorful, loose fitting clothing. She had more bangles and baubles dangling from every part of her body than any of them had seen before. “I am of Romipen blood,” she said at their looks of uncertainty. “I am gypsy!”

       Crys stood up and looked exasperated. “Jesus H. Handbasket! We’re living in a goddamned comic book. Telepathic space gypsies? Give me a freakin’ break! Next you’re going to tell us that you’ve been to Earth.” She looked totally disgusted.

       Al snickered, and Crys gave him the look of death. He shut up.

       Harry looked to be the only objective one left. “Remember, Guys, that we are translating this through our own language. Maybe ‘gypsy’ isn’t quite what she means.” He looked back at the gypsy. “Although she sure looks the stereotype.”

       “We are what we are,” Keja said. “You believe what you like. There are lies more believable than the truth.”

       “Whatever,” Crys said. “We just wanted to make sure you were alright. We have to get back to our business.”

       “Oh, but I don’t think you do, young woman. I and my kumpania are dead in space. The main section of our drive, pitiful as it was, is gone. We need a tow to somewhere in Council space.”

       “Just what is this kumpania you keep referring to?” Harry asked her.

       “It is my . . . family.”

       “How many?” Harry asked. “And are they all like you?”

       “We are all Romipen. We travel from system to system and provide entertainment,” the gypsy answered.

       Crys interrupted her, “Council space? What is that?”

       Harry said over his shoulder, “I missed that one, Kid.”

       She bristled at the name “Kid,” but didn’t say anything. She instead kept her eyes on Kaja.

       Kaja looked startled. “Where are you from that you don’t know the Council? Why, the Council governs this whole arm of the galaxy!” She pulled a large scarf or handkerchief from her sleeve and blew her nose. The scarf went back to the sleeve in one movement.

       Al said from across the room, “We’re from out of town.”

       She said, “Well, I’ve never –.“ She was interrupted by a symphony from down the hall. There was a distinctly dark edge to the music. She closed her eyes and swayed with the music. It turned from dark, to sad, to anxious. Colors were swirling through the melodies like they never had before. No one spoke during the music. When it finally slowed and then faded, they remained quiet. “Trushalo odji,” Kaja said out loud. Then she thought to them, “A thirsty Soul. And that was not a recording?”

       Harry said, “What makes you say that?”

       “I told you, a thirsty Soul. And the colors,” she hesitated, “no recording could produce colors like that.”

       Al said before anyone could stop him, “It’s an alien life form that we found . . .”

       Crys’ look stopped him in mid sentence. “Just forget the music,” she said. “What about the Council?”

       The gypsy looked at her and smiled. Then to all of them, “Why don’t you come to our vurdon and let us entertain you,” she offered. “We will have Patshiv!” She smiled wider. “A party for the two tribes!” She stood waving her hand in the air. We shall trade swatura -- stories, and drink and sing and dance!”

       Harry and Crys stood as she walked swiftly by. Al backed out of her way. Crys was still unconvinced and watched her closely as she escorted the self-proclaimed gypsy to the airlock. Kaja struggled back into her spacesuit. Before she put her helmet back on, she met Crys’ gaze. Out loud she said, “Stanki nashti tshi arakenpe manusheb shai,” and then she thought mysteriously to her, “Mountains do not meet, but people do.”

       With that, she put on her helmet and turned into the doorway.

       Crys stood at the door, watching her as she made her way back out the door and started her trek back to her . . . what was the word she used? Oh, yeah, vurdon. Those words sounded somewhat familiar, be she just couldn’t put her finger on it. Well, it would come to her.

       The Patshiv was under its uproarious way. The lighting was low, but there were flashing and flowing lights here and there. Crys and Harry had frothy alcoholic beverages and were watching the circle of colorful people dancing and singing and “Hey!-ing.” Both of the Earth folks were surprised that the troupe was singing out loud. A good looking young man dressed in loose fitting black pants and a frilly white shirt with large, long loose sleeves came over and took Crys by the hand. “Dance, fair Gaji?” he thought to her. Harry couldn’t believe that she actually blushed and stood to dance in the circle with the young man. She handed him her drink and was off.

       Al had agreed to stay back at the ship to stand guard. He knew it was because he was the most easily influenced, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he even agreed. He was sitting in the control room with Woof on his lap, watching two of the video screens with great interest. Harry and Crys had both worn concealed video cameras, and Al was watching the festivities. The only problem was that he could hear the music and the singing in that strange dialect, but he could hear none of the conversation except his two friends’ sides of it. He was eying a couple of the young women dressed in knee length, flowing skirts and colorful shirts that were loose in some places and enticingly tight in others. “How about her right there, Woof?” he asked the cat.

       Woof’s eyes were closed, but at the sound of his name he said, “R-row.”

       Al chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Rrow!”

       Crys was having a wonderful time. She didn’t usually let her hair down, and even though she had initially been extremely suspicious, they seemed like such fun loving people. She had been dancing in the circle, changing dance partners and humming along with the music that was being played by live musicians. She was currently sitting one out, watching Harry in the middle of the circle, dancing with one striking gypsy girl, while the circle watched and clapped their hands. She noticed one of the girls that hadn’t been dancing. She had been lugging trays with pitchers of the frothy ale they had been drinking from somewhere in the back to the partiers. The girl had a pronounced limp and rarely looked up. The other gypsies mostly ignored her except to grab a pitcher or a mug from her tray. Crys wondered why the girl didn’t at least join in the singing and merriment. She got up to go talk to her. The girl had a huge tray on her shoulder and was limping from group to group around the circle, serving the ale. Suddenly, a foot came out from one of the cliques and was in front of the girl’s bad foot. The girl, the tray, and all of the pitchers of ale went to the floor, sending pottery flying and ale splashing everywhere.

       Crys was appalled. Instead of the others helping the girl up, they just laughed, and when the girl tried to get up, someone put their foot on her butt and shoved her down again. This brought fresh rounds of guffaws from the crowd. The girl merely tried picking up shards of the pottery, though Crys could now see that she was crying silently. Crys hurried over, bent down and began helping her to pick up the mess. The girl looked up, terrified but grateful at the same time. One of the young men came over, took Crys by the arm and hauled her up thinking to her, “Don’t help the little chovexani – the witch.”

       Crys didn’t even hesitate. She drove the palm of her hand into the man’s nose and her knee into his groin. He doubled over immediately and then went to his knees, blood spurting from his broken nose. Another man grabbed her hand. She took a step back and let the man’s own weight straighten his arm in order to attempt to jerk her to him. The palm of her free hand smashed into the back of his locked elbow with a satisfying broken bone sound. Then she stepped in to him with a twist and threw him over her shoulder to the floor. Another gypsy rushed in only to be met with a spinning round house kick to the side of his head. He crumpled in what was beginning to look like a pile of broken gypsies at her feet. She took a defensive pose of balanced grace and faced the crowd. “Anyone else?” she said through gritted teeth.

       Harry came pushing his way through the gathering throng. He stopped dead when he saw what was going on. “Crys, are you ok?” He looked concerned.

       Kaja elbowed her way though just then too. The crowd parted in deference, and Kaja boomed out loud, “Bi-lacio saps!” Two of the men stood with help and backed away. The third lay where he fell. Crys hadn’t relaxed from her battle stance. “You tell me,” Kaja thought to Crys, “what happened here?” Her eyes were looking at Crys softly.

       Crys told her what she had witnessed, and what followed. Kaja nodded as she spoke. “You did this because they were cruel to the chovexani,?”

       “I don’t care what you call her. Where we come from, you don’t treat anyone like that.”

       Kaja spat. “She is a witch. You can have her. She is yours!” With that she turned and left. From somewhere in the back, the music started back up, and the crowd starting breaking up. Someone threw ale in the unconscious man’s face, and he came up sputtering. When he saw Crys, he backed quickly away.

       Harry came close to Crys, and she relaxed. The gypsy girl was still on her knees on the floor looking up at her. Crys reached for her, and the girl backed away slightly. “It’s okay,” Crys said. “You can come with us.” Then to Harry, “I’m assuming that we now own the girl.” She shook her head.

       Harry looked exasperated. “What are you thinking? We can’t take another passenger. We don’t even know her.” But he knew he’d already lost. Crys was helping the girl up, and putting her arm around her protectively.

       Al was enjoying watching the dancing and ogling the girls. Woof was sound asleep on his lap. Suddenly, Al stood up, dumping the sleeping cat unceremoniously on the ground. Woof blinked and then ran from the room. Al walked out of the room and down the corridor toward the air lock. He stopped in front of the inner door and pressed the open outer door button. The air lock cycled through, and then the outer door opened. Two figures in space suits came in. He pressed the cycle button, and then the open inner door button. He said nothing as the two figures entered the ship.