“Full power restored,” one of the corts said.
“Follow that ship, seventy degrees ascension, ten degrees larboad. And punch it!”
The cort nodded and pulled back on a lever with a loud clank. The Kraken shot upward.
Solomon Grundy put his goggles back on, then his helmet. Since the forward window was gone, he would be going into space without any atmosphere aboard the bridge. To both sides of the window, the two remaining tentacles retracted.
“Are you boys alright without air? Also, space can be mighty cold.”
A cort turned to regard him, shrugged and smiled.
Grundy shivered, yet again.
[ 25 ]
The Argent cleared the Earth’s atmosphere and slowed to a stop. Guthrie powered down the ship’s engines and she floated freely.
“Master Billy,” Guthrie said, “I have parked us in a stable orbit and we will need to remain here while I go to the observatory.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Billy snatched a sheet of paper from the air nearby. “Here’s the form. I know you don’t believe in writing anything down, but us humans can’t remember numbers worth a damn. Well, that’s not quite true. I did know one fellow who could remember numbers.”
“Master Koothrappally?” Guthrie asked. “You have alluded to him in the past.”
“I’m willing to bet he could out-compute even you,” Billy said.
“I will make a full recording of everything required,” Guthrie said. “I calculate that we are twenty-seven hours behind in our launch window. We will likely need to go at full power to make the journey.”
“We’ll push the limits, no doubt,” Billy said. Ekka floated up behind him and placed her arms around him.
“You’re my hero,” she said.
Across the bridge John Carter shook his head and whispered to Ian, “Married people. You’d think they’d save such displays for the boudoir.”
“Aye,” Ian agreed. “But if thee had such a bonny one, would ye no be sportin’ ta same?”
“Huh. Probably.”
Bixie Cottontree ignored the banter of the two fighting men and met the studious gaze of the boy.
“We haven’t been introduced proper,” she said. “Dah name’s Bixie.”
“I heard ‘em say your name,” Dakota said. “What are you?”
“Have ya never seen yourself a woman of color, now? The way you talk, you be from the great land of de former slaves, is it not bein’ so?”
Dakota nodded. “The slaves were freed by Mister Lincoln, but somebody shot him in the coconut. Uh. What I mean is, you talk funny, and you say funny things. Can you tell the future?”
Bixie laughed. “I’m all for ‘splainin’ how she is done, handsome boy, but do you be thinkin’ dere be’s any food about this place? Somethin’ besides bananas and flowers?”
“Aha! You’re hungry!” Dakota almost shouted.
“Of course I be hungry. I be starvin’, like Mister Avi, there.” Bixie gestured to the emaciated Ceylonese, who floated in the air behind John Carter and Ian, apparently asleep. “What you mean by dat, boy-o?” Bixie asked Dakota.
“It means that no matter how funny you might be,” Dakota said, “you’re still a human person. What I mean is, you’re not like Guthrie at all. Guthrie is a robot person.”
“Of course he bein’ a robot person. Now go on, boy-o, and bring da starvin’ peoples somethin’ ta eat.”
“I’ll go below and me and Edgar Burroughs will whip up something good to eat, although I don’t know about cookin’ when you are floatin’ around. I can’t see us boilin’ any water.”