Free The Lights of Skaro by David Dodge

couple of tips.”
    He held up two fingers. “First, cross Yoreska if you want to get out the way I did, but don’t cross Bulič. Keep yourrumors to yourself. When you land on his bad books, you’re cooked. Kaput. Fini. It’s his way of doing things. Second—”
    He hesitated.
    “It’s really a favor, Jess. If there’s any way you can do it, get Cora out of there. The ground is going to be torn up one of these days, when Bulič and Yoreska lock horns. I wouldn’t like to think of her there when it happens. Particularly if Bulič wins out.”
    “Is he down on Cora?”
    “He’s down on everybody. That’s the whole truth, Jess. He’s the only man I know of whose world is populated exclusively by enemies.”
     
    I remember when he told me that I made some gesture to indicate I thought he was exaggerating. Half in a doze, reliving the conversation, I must have tried to repeat the gesture. I lost the grip on my legs and fell over sideways against one of the ewes, who blatted angrily and thumped me with her hoof. It brought me back to a realization of where I was. Sitting in a marketplace nodding with sleep and regretting past mistakes of judgment wasn’t helping us to escapeBulič’s world of enemies.
    We had to move along soon. The sun was still high, but the trading was over. Most of the peasants were packing up to leave. We had to leave with them, in a crowd.
    Cora had had several good hours of sleep. When a man driving a yoke of oxen came our way, going towards the fountain to water his animals for the home trip, I pulled her yashmak up to cover her mouth, then shook her arm.
    She awoke immediately. Her eyes were blank and peaceful. She looked at me for a moment, unwinking, gathering her thoughts. When they had caught up with realities, she smiled, surprisingly.
    “This will make a wonderful story when we write it, Jess.”
    “If, as and when we write it.”
    “Just when. I’m confident.”
    “You’re fully awake, too, aren’t you? You know where you are?”
    “Why must you be so pessimistic all the time?’ Her voice was soft. “We’ll get out of it. You’ll get us out of it. I knew it back there on the road, when we tumbled into the ditch and they passed us by. I haven’t really worried since, not even when we came through the archway. I went to sleep feeling safe just because you were here with me.”
    I said, “I appreciate your confidence,” and began untying the wether’s cord from her ankle.
    She irritated me, with her great-big-wonderful-you routine, as much as she had angered me before with her stubbornness. I resented having that calculated, high-voltage charm turned on me, as if she could buy from me some further effort for her protection and safety that I wasn’t already making for both of us. I resisted a temptation to tell her tocork it up and save it for Bulič.
    The loudspeakers on the minarets picked up the chime of a bell striking three o’clock from Brotherhood and Unity Square in the capital, booming it across the nation to remind sixteen million people that they had their work quotas to fill before dark. Cora said, “How long did I sleep?”
    “About three hours.”
    “Jess! You should have wakened me.”
    “There was no need for it. The market was bad. I sold one ewe and did some shopping.” I showed her my pack. “We’ve got blankets and socks and cigarettes. And food. You’d better eat something before we go.”
    I gave her a piece of bread and a slab of the roast mutton.
    Eating hungrily she said, “What are we going to do about them?”
    She meant the goats, our increasingly dangerous cover.
    “Stay with them for the rest of the day. Wait for tomorrow and the breaks. I haven’t figured that far ahead. Right now we have to get out of town with the crowd. Finish eating first, so you can cover your face.”
    The goats hated to leave their comfortable bed. I took the wether by the ear, as the bearded peasant had led the ewe – the wether