Passage to Paradise (Carrie Hatchett, Space Adventurer Series Book 2) Page 4

  Apate pointed at the dog. “What’s that, Carrie, my dear?” she asked, her voice tremulous.

  Getting to her feet, Carrie said, “It’s a dog. My dog. His name’s Rogue. Apate, you shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have followed me. You’ll get me into a world of trouble.” She fished in her toolbox for her translator, mentally cursing the escaped dandrobian. Errruorerrrrrhch was not going to like this. Not at all. And Carrie would be the one to take the blame.

  Apate's smile faded and she looked down. “I was so afraid of what the squashpumps might do to me. I’m sorry, Carrie, darling. So sorry. You’d better call someone to send me back, though perhaps...”

  Carrie had found the translator. Her finger was on the button to turn it on. “Perhaps what?” If there was a chance of avoiding the repercussions of Apate’s actions she wanted to hear it.

  “Well, you’ll be returning to Dandrobia when the fighting’s over, won’t you? Perhaps I could stay here with you until you go back, and I could slip in again quietly. In all the disruption no one would even miss me—”

  “You’re supposed to be confined to your planet with the other dandrobians,” exclaimed Carrie. “Following me here—it’s like you’ve broken out of jail.”

  Apate’s head fell until her chin was grazing her chest. “I was frightened. You saw what the squashpumps can do.” She looked up shyly. “But maybe if I stay here, just for a short time, no one needs to know, do they? We can keep it between you and me, and your friend.” She gave Dave a dazzling smile.

  The smile did nothing to soften the deep crease between his eyebrows. “Carrie,” he repeated, “who’s this?”

  She sighed. “This is Apate. She’s a dandrobian. The meeting broke down and the squashpumps started to attack. She followed me here.”

  “I can see that. And now you’re going to contact your manager to tell her so that she can send her back.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  Her finger still on the translator button, Carrie hesitated.

  “Oh, must you?” said Apate, looking from one human to the other. “I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay here in—your home, is it? It’s lovely. And when the battle’s over and you return, I’ll go with you, I promise.” A tear formed at the corner of one of her eyes and slid prettily down her cheek. Her lower lip trembled. “Couldn’t you keep me safe for a just a little while?”

  Her beauty and vulnerability tugged at Carrie’s heartstrings, though Rogue continued to growl. She frowned as she wondered why. Her dog was usually overly friendly with strangers and the worst guard dog in the world. “Rogue, be quiet. What’s wrong with you?” Maybe he could sense Apate was an alien, even though in human society she would pass as a very tall and very beautiful woman.

  Dave was glaring at Carrie, and Apate was pleading with her eyes.Carrie buried her head in her hands as she tried to decide what to do. She was certain Errruorerrrrrhch would expect Carrie to inform her immediately about what had happened and would return Apate right away. But her new manager would also definitely blame Carrie, even though there was nothing she could have done to prevent Apate’s escape. On the other hand, if she did as Apate asked and kept her safe in her flat until things had calmed down in Dandrobia, Errruorerrrrrhch need never know what had happened, and Carrie would not get the blame for something that was not her fault. There was even a chance she could reinstate the reparations agreement despite the setback and prove to her boss that she truly deserved the praise Gavin had given her.

  Dave squatted down and ruffled Rogue’s head and neck. “What’s up with you, then?” He looked up at Carrie. “Can I speak to you in private?”

  She followed him into the hallway. As he closed the kitchen door, Apate’s eyes became fixed on the growling dog, and she backed into a corner.

  “Tell me you aren’t thinking about letting her stay,” Dave said. “You cannot let her stay.”

  Carrie put her hands on her hips. “Hey, I’m the one working for the Transgalactic Council, remember?” Who did he think he was? “It’s my decision.”

  “No, it isn’t. I was there at your briefing, too.” He pointed at the kitchen door. “That woman, or dandrobian or whatever, is in prison for crimes she committed along with the rest of her tyrannical species.” He pointed at Carrie. “You can’t let her out of Dandrobia. You don’t have the authority, and if you don’t tell your manager right now what’s happened, you’ll get into trouble and probably lose your job. You know, the job you love so much and are so determined to be a success at? You have no idea what might happen.”

  Her lips drawing to a thin line, Carrie narrowed her eyes at Dave. “Thanks for the advice, but I’m perfectly capable of understanding what could happen all by myself.” She moved towards the kitchen.

  “Carrie,” said Dave, grabbing her, “think about it.”

  She pulled her arm from his grasp. If there was one thing she did not like about her friend, it was his unasked-for advice. “I’ll do what I like,” she replied between her teeth as she opened the kitchen door.

  Apate was still at bay in the corner, watched by an alert Rogue. She turned and looked apprehensively but hopefully at Carrie.

  It was already too late to tell Errruorerrrrrhch about the escaped dandrobian, Carrie decided. Her manager would only add the delay to her list of other reasons to conclude that Carrie was incompetent. She had no choice, really. She would do as Apate suggested and hope that Errruorerrrrrhch never found out. Smiling tightly, she said, “You can stay until I go back, but you mustn’t leave my flat, okay?” Apate ran towards her, and she found herself being crushed into a large bosom.

  “Thank you so much,” the dandrobian breathed. “I’ll do whatever you say, darling. I promise.”

  Chapter Eight – Apate Makes Herself at Home

  Carrie heard irritation in Errruorerrrrrhch’s tone as she spoke to her manager, even though she had sent in a very detailed and mostly truthful report in the intervening day since she returned from Dandrobia. Of course, she had left out the part about Apate returning with her.

  “Point the translator away from you into an open area,” said Errruorerrrrrhch.

  Placing the device on her coffee table, Carrie pointed it at the space in front of her television. A bright, hazy beam shone out, containing a hologram of her giant insectoid Transgalactic Council manager. Towering nearly to Carrie’s ceiling, Errruorerrrrrhch’s form was only slightly less horrific and fantastical than it was in real life.

  She was alone in the room. Dave had left in a huff the previous night, refusing even to say goodbye, and she had shut the door firmly behind him in a satisfied way, mentally pushing aside a little, niggling doubt that maybe he was right. Apate had spent most of her stay asleep in Carrie’s bed, after complaining that Earth’s stronger gravity made her tired. Carrie had slept curled uncomfortably on her sofa.

  “I have received communications from the squashpumps and the dandrobians, each telling a different tale, as is standard in these cases,” said Errruorerrrrrhch. “A comparison of both sides of the story with your report gives what appears to be the closest approximation to the truth, and I can see that I made the correct decision in removing you from the scene of the conflict.”

  Carrie rolled her eyes, then stopped as she wondered if the hologram was a two-way thing and her manager could read human body language.

  “I must admit,” continued the insectoid alien, “that the objectivity and detail of your report are at a level I would expect of a Transgalactic Council Intercultural Community Crisis Liaison Officer.”

  Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, thought Carrie. What else had the bug expected of her? She said nothing, waiting to hear when she would be going back to Dandrobia, as she was extremely keen to return Apate to her home world. In the time since Dave had left, she’d struggled more and more to deny the truth of his words. Maybe it was only because he had insisted she tell her manager about Apate that she had let the dandrobian stay.

  But it was to
o late to go back on her decision. If she told Errruorerrrrrhch about Apate now, a day later, it would definitely be curtains for her.

  “Squashpumps have infested a number of dandrobians,” said her manager, “though neither side have exact figures on how many.”

  “The dandrobians don’t know how many of them were killed?” Carrie’s eyebrows lifted. Maybe no one would have noticed Apate was missing either, in that case.

  Errruorerrrrrhch’s inner jaws protruded and she moved forwards, almost out of the hologram’s beams. Carrie was glad her manager was tens of thousands of light years away.

  “No dandrobians have been killed, Transgalactic Intercultural Community Crisis Liaison Officer Hatchett. I said they were infested. Squashpumps take up residence in the brains of their victims.”

  “And that doesn’t kill them?” Carrie couldn’t understand why information about the squashpumps’ methods of attack hadn’t been included in the briefing documents. Didn’t Errruorerrrrrhch think it was important for her to know these things?

  “A squashpump infestation only incapacitates. The victim cannot think or speak, only wander around randomly until meeting another living creature, whereupon the squashpump divides and one individual invades the new host.”

  Carrie breathed in sharply and her eyes grew wide. “Kind of like zombies,” she exclaimed. She sat down as she contemplated a mental image of the huge dandrobians wandering the landscape on tottering legs, arms stretched out in front, heads and tongues lolling. She became lost in reverie. A pause stretched out. Returning to the present, Carrie cleared her throat. “So, what happens now?”

  Errruorerrrrrhch blinked, one hundred transparent lids flicking across one hundred insectoid eyes. “The squashpumps feel they have adequately responded to the accident that befell their Foreign Secretary and have, at the Unity’s demand, withdrawn all but their essential diplomatic presence. They are willing to meet with the dandrobians once more with a view to concluding the reconciliation process. The dandrobians also wish to continue the talks but have added an agenda item discussing the removal of the infesting squashpumps from their victims.”

  “Seems reasonable.”

  “I doubt there will be any difficulties on that account,” said Errruorerrrrrhch. “The squashpumps spend a considerable period in their life cycle outside their hosts’ bodies, and Dandrobia is much too dry a habitat for them. They have no intention of staying on the planet for the long term. Attacking the dandrobians was merely an instinctive reaction, I believe, and perhaps a show of force intended to intimidate.”

  Recalling the image of one of the slug-like creatures worming its way into a dandrobian eye socket, Carrie swallowed. Despite their diminutive size and harmless appearance, the squashpumps certainly could be intimidating if they wanted to be.

  “I am sending you the new agenda. Reparation figures must be agreed once again—the squashpumps wish to sue for more in consideration of what happened to their Foreign Secretary, and I am not sure the dandrobians will concede the additional cost—but the squashpumps have communicated that the wording of the formal public apology can remain the same.

  “I will open a transgalactic gateway at eight a.m. your time. Please do not be late.”

  Carrie frowned, irked at the implication she was unreliable, but she was relieved she would be able to get a good night’s sleep before returning to Dandrobia. It had been a long day, worrying about the dandrobian sleeping in her bed.

  Thinking about the journey she would undertake the following morning, an idea occurred to her. “Wait a minute, can I ask you something? Whenever I return to Earth through a gateway, I always get back just after I left, so the gateways are passages through time as well as space. Couldn’t you send me back to Dandrobia just before the squashpump Foreign Secretary’s accident? Then I could grab the column before it fell, and none of the battle will have happened.”

  “I cannot send you back to a previous time on Dandrobia,” replied her manager. “That would be illegal and most unwise. Altering the past has wide-ranging and unpredictable effects on the present. Only in the direst circumstances would the Transgalactic Council consider such an action. Returning you to Earth just after you left benefits the natural course of the time line because Earth is not in the Unity. Your inexplicable absence would cause disruptions to your and others’ lives.”

  “I see,” said Carrie, her shoulders slumping. The vision she’d had of herself dashing in at the last moment,—surprising the hell out of the earlier Carrie—catching the column mid-fall, and heroically saving the Foreign Secretary’s life, melted away.

  There was a metallic, squeaking sound. It was the noise of bed springs. Carrie’s bed springs. She froze. Apate was awake and could come into the living room any minute. Would Errruorerrrrrhch be able to see her via the translator? Carrie could not take any chances. “Okay,” she said to her boss, “I’ll be ready at eight o’clock.”

  “Thoroughly study the documents I’m sending through.”

  Carrie reached for the translator. If Errruorerrrrrhch did not end their meeting soon, she would be forced to turn her off. “Yes, okay, I’ll read them tonight.”

  “Please be sure that you do. The accident with the squashpump Foreign Secretary has put a different light on—”

  Carrie heard her bedroom door open. “Yes, I understand. Goodbye, then.” Apate had to be in the hallway and was probably heading over to see her.

  “Good—”

  Thumbing the translator off, Carrie exhaled as the hazy beam faded and the hologram of her manager blinked out. She was returning the device to her bag when Apate entered the room. The dandrobian had piled her hair up once more, and the top of the pile brushed the door frame. She stretched luxuriously. “I had the most marvellous sleep, Carrie, darling. Your bed is soooo comfortable.”

  Rubbing the crick in her neck she had developed during her night on the sofa, Carrie said, “Yes, it is, isn’t it? Tonight’s your last night, though. We return to Dandrobia in the morning.”

  Apate’s relaxed, happy expression crumbled. “So soon?” Energy and hope seemed to seep out of her. “I expected to have a little more time.” Her hands came up to her face, and she burst into tears. Her legs collapsed and she sat, a heap of draped green silk, weeping on the floor.

  After a moment’s shock, Carrie said, “Apate, you can’t stay here forever. You said you would go back with me. I can’t let you stay. I’d lose my job.”

  “I know, I know,” wept Apate. “But I love being away from Dandrobia. I’ve been there for so long. Thousands and thousands of years. It’s so boring being in the same place all the time. It’s stifling.”

  “Dandrobia? Boring? But it’s beautiful. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. And you have everything you need there. You don’t want for anything.”

  Sniffing and wiping her eyes, Apate said, “You wouldn’t understand, my dear. Have you ever been in prison?”

  “No, I haven’t,” said Carrie, blinking as she wondered how prisoners on Earth would feel upon hearing idyllic Dandrobia compared to a jail.

  “Everything’s always the same. Nothing ever changes. Day after day after day.” At each repetition of ‘day’ her voice hardened with frustration.

  “But you created the perfect world,” exclaimed Carrie. “Why would you want anything to change?”

  Apate tilted back her head so that her beautiful eyes looked directly into Carrie’s. “Don’t you understand? They took away our technology. We can’t create anything new. We’ve been living in the same landscapes, eating the same food, doing the same things for millennia.” Her exquisite face contorted into an expression of despair, and she shook her head. Her tone softening, she said, “Never mind. You can’t possibly comprehend.” She stood, composed her features and smoothed her robes. “I apologise for my outburst, my darling Carrie. You’ve been an absolute treasure for not reporting my little holiday from Dandrobia, and here I am rewarding you with weeping and wailing.” Turning her h
ead to one side, she smiled. “Do you forgive me?” She put her hands together in a gesture of prayer and added, “Please say you do.”

  Looking at the beautiful alien, her long-lashed eyes wet with tears, it was hard to imagine her even being pushy, let alone terrorising entire civilisations. She seemed sweet and gentle, despite her size and strength. Dave was bossier than her, but he was no tyrant. Carrie’s earlier misgivings about not informing on Apate began to fade. The alien seemed to deserve a little break from jail, though she still didn’t understand why anyone would ever want to leave Dandrobia.

  Watching Carrie’s face carefully, Apate smiled. “You do forgive me, don’t you? I can tell you do, my dear.” She took a step forwards and stretched out her arms.

  Carrie held up her hands, palms out, and shrank back, worried that Apate’s gratefulness would prompt another hug. “Yes, yes, I forgive you.”

  “Oh, thank you.” The alien sank gracefully onto the sofa, taking up much of the space, and draped an arm across the back. “This extra gravity makes me so weak.” She tapped the cushion beside her, inviting Carrie to sit down. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll go with you peacefully tomorrow morning when you return, and I’m sure that in the confusion no one will even know I’ve left.”

  “But...” Apate idly lifted a strand of Carrie’s hair and brushed it back over her shoulder. “...if I am to return so soon, may I ask a very small, tiny favour?”

  Carrie’s eyes were held by Apate’s—wide, deep and dazzling. “What’s that?”

  “It’s only a small thing. Nothing at all really, my love. But would you mind if I went outside? I only want to see a little of your world before I return. Just so that I have some memories to sustain me for the next few thousand years. I hope I’m not asking too much.”

  Weeping had lent Apate’s face a rosy blush, and her eyes were very bright. Carrie did not have the heart to refuse her.

  Chapter Nine – Down the Pub