Page 70 of Escape Velocity

They hadn’t discussed names, but Max understood why his friend had come up with an alias. They were all hiding out from Elgin Tudor, but Tudor didn’t know Max’s name, only Rafe’s.

“And I am Salvo Dubois,” the spokesman said.

Max looked around at the other swamp rats, who had relaxed somewhat during the conversation. He turned back to the speaker. “Are you the leader of this group?”

“I oversee . . . I think you would call it security.”

“You saw us flying over and came to investigate?”

“Oui,” which must mean yes, Max figured.

“When can we show our goods to your people?” he asked.

“After you come back to our camp.”

Max eyed the weapons that the men carried. “There are dangers in the swamp, and you are armed. May we bring our own weapons?”

“No need. Our kin group will keep you safe.”

Max didn’t like it, but he bit back a protest.

“Bring your goods.”

“We will bring some of them.”

“You don’t trust us?” Dubois shot back.

“We can’t be sure of your tastes. In case you don’t buy, we won’t have to carry them all back.”

Apparently, that made sense because the swamp rat nodded and said. “Allons.”

Max and Rafe each took a carry bag of clothing before Rafe set the door lock on the shuttle.

Dubois and some of the group led them across the open field to a trail hidden in the thick vegetation. Other swamp rats walked behind the trio.

“Don’t step off the trail,” the security chief cautioned.

Max could see why. The dirt track wound past mud holes, trees so tall he couldn’t see the tops, and patches of swamp. The branches overhead dimmed the light around them, and in the bushes, he kept hearing the rustlings of unseen creatures.

There was danger here—but also beauty. Bright flowers, lush greenery. And above them birds with brilliant foliage flitting through the trees.

Dubois, who saw him taking in the surroundings, said, “The bayou’s got snakes, gator lizards, wild hogs, and other beasts you wouldn’t want to meet.”

“You call the swamp the bayou?” Max asked.

“Oui. The word is from our home place back on old Earth.”

Max nodded. “Thanks for the warning.” As he spoke, he was calculating the odds of getting back to the ship on their own if this gig went sour.

They rounded a curve in the path, and at first Max thought he was staring at a huge patch of greenery. Then he realized that a group of perhaps two dozen small wooden houses was hidden under the branches of large trees. All the dwellings were elevated on stout poles that lifted them about two meters off the ground. Guarding the perimeter of the settlement was a fence made of narrow poles, sharpened to a point at the top. And beyond the houses was a wide, slow-moving river and a wooden dock where several homemade boats were tied up.

As the party approached, Max heard barking, and several lean brown hounds leaped toward the returning men.

One came bounding toward Amber, and she shrank back against Max. From her reaction he guessed the creature was new to her.

He put himself between her and the animal, leaning down to let it smell his hand before stroking its head. “Good boy. That’s a good boy,” he crooned.

“What is it?” Amber asked as she kept her gaze on the beast.

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