by Speer, Flora
Narisa could only hope his anger against her would be dissipated by time and that he would come to understand why she had done what she had, and eventually forgive her for it. Except there might not be enough time. Every hour brought a rescue ship nearer, and once they were aboard it, Tarik would most likely remove himself permanently from her life. She could not bring herself to accept the possibility of anything other than a Service vessel answering her message. Tarik’s concerns about the Cetans must be wrong. They had to be.
Midway through the second day, he called her out of the storeroom where she had been selecting food for the evening meal, a useless exercise since they most likely would be unable to eat anything. Neither of them had any appetite.
“Sit there,” Tarik ordered, pointing to the second chair before the computer-communicator. “Can you see this screen? Good. I want you to be aware of the result of your foolish action the other day. Look at this.”
It was the scanning screen to which he pointed. Narisa noted the range and direction at which it was set. A small green dot moved with astonishing speed along a line that intercepted the planet.
“The Service rescue ship,” Narisa whispered. How sorry she was to see it. Once they were aboard it, all chance of inducing Tarik to love her again was lost.
“Do you really think that’s what it is?” Tarik worked the many buttons and dials with long, slender fingers. An image sprang up on the computer’s second screen, a diagram of the ship approaching them and a list of its characteristics and probable armament. Narisa recognized it at once with a shock.
“No,” she whispered in horror. “Please, no. Not that.”
“You see what you have done, my dear,” Tarik told her with grim humor. “You’ve brought the Cetans down on us.”
Chapter Seven
“What are the Cetans doing in the Empty Sector?” Narisa cried. “They stay away from it for the same reason Jurisdiction ships do.”
“Unless,” Tarik told her coldly, “they intercept a weak rescue signal and imagine they smell easy plunder. They’d be greedy enough to risk it if they know there are no other ships in the immediate area.”
“How can we defend ourselves against them? We have no weapons.” Narisa had not really believed Cetans would find them. Now she was trying to suppress the panic that threatened to destroy her composure. She knew what Cetans were said to do to their captives. Male or female, human or other Race, it made no difference to them. The fortunate ones died promptly, as her family had done. The captives who survived the brutal initiation were taken as slaves to Cetan planets. There was no information on the exact fate of those poor souls. No one had ever escaped to tell of it. At the thought of what might happen to her, and to Tarik, Narisa’s hands began to shake uncontrollably. She held them together in her lap to hide the involuntary motion and tried to speak calmly. “I would rather kill myself than be captured by them.”
For the first time in a day and a half, Tarik looked at her without bitter anger in his eyes. He reached toward her as if he would touch her reassuringly. But he withdrew his hand before he made contact with her flesh.
“I,” he said, “would rather die fighting them. I do believe, Narisa, that I can trust you against the Cetans, if in nothing else.”
She bore the insult without comment, loving him hopelessly and aching with pain and guilt for what she had done to them both. Then her practical nature asserted itself once more, telling her there was no going back and no use wishing she could. She took her usual refuge in a professional attitude and in words that sounded calmer than she really felt.
“Tarik, if you have a plan of some kind, tell me what it is.”
“There are weapons here, in a case in one of the storerooms. They are listed on the inventory.”
“One case of weapons can’t be much, and they will be very old. We need more than small arms to fight off a Cetan ship.”
“Perhaps not. The Cetans are answering a rescue call. They are likely to send a shuttle down to the planet’s surface to investigate before they begin using major weapons. From what I know of them, they wouldn’t want to destroy any valuable loot. When they arrive at the planet, they will come directly here, because this island is where the rescue call originated.
“And now, Narisa,” he went on, “you will see the value of learning true history, the kind scorned in favor of the carefully censored version the Jurisdiction teaches. The kind of history written in a pile of rotting books I once found on a seldom-visited planet, far from the center of Jurisdiction authority, and took back to the Capitol to my old history teacher. It was he who taught me it is possible to learn from the experiences and the mistakes of ancient societies.”
“I am aware that citizens of the Jurisdiction are not told everything they might want to know.” Narisa spoke through stiff lips, determined to hide her barely leashed terror and impatience. She did not want to alienate Tarik any more than she had already done. If they were to have any hope against the Cetans, they had to work together. “What is it you know that might help us?”
“There is an ancient way of making war when you are few and your opponents are many. We will use that method now. We won’t face the Cetans in the open as Service officers are taught to do. Instead, we will hide among the trees and kill them one by one. When we are done, we will have the shuttle, and a better chance of taking the main ship. If we find heavy weapons on the shuttle, we might even destroy the main ship. It must be well armed because the Cetans have no way of knowing what they will find when they descend to the surface of an unknown planet.”
“I agree with the first part,” Narisa said slowly. “I have never heard of fighting that way, but I think it might work. We are more familiar with the island than they will be. I have never had to use a weapon against any living being before, but these are Cetans. I’m sure I can do what you want me to. But, Tarik, are you really going to attack a spaceship with just a shuttle and whatever weapons you can find?”
“Why not? It’s better than letting them take us prisoner, which they will if we don’t fight back.”
“I want you to promise me something.”
“Promise?” His mouth twisted scornfully. “Promise what, lieutenant?”
“If the fight goes against us, or if I’m captured, I want you to kill me. I don’t want them to do to me what Cetans do to their prisoners. Not after I’ve lain with you and learned what love is.”
“Narisa.” His hand touched her cheek briefly. “I promise.”
“I’ll do the same for you,” she said softly, made hopeful by that display of tenderness.
“I’m sure you will,” he replied dryly, “and most likely when my back is turned. Don’t worry, Narisa, I won’t let them take you. Now I want you to listen carefully to me, memorize everything I say, and do not deviate one iota from my instructions.”
Near sunset the amphibious space shuttle from the Cetan ship landed on the lake and swept smoothly up onto the sandy beach where Narisa and Tarik had first reached the island. Narisa watched it from her concealed position high among the thick leaves of a tree. She was wearing her Service uniform again, and had two force-guns, one in her hand and a spare slung over her shoulder. As she had expected, the weapons they found in the storerooms were heavy and old-fashioned, but she and Tarik had practiced with them, and she was certain they would be effective. They were set at kill force.
She studied the shuttle as it came to rest near the tree where she crouched. It was elliptical in shape, slightly pointed at one end, a dull dark gray in color with a red stripe down the side. As she nervously watched, a door near the pointed end opened and a Cetan appeared. He was tall and burly, with long, matted yellow hair and a scraggly beard. Narisa noted black Service boots with loose green Demarian trousers tucked into them, a garish red belt from some unknown place in the galaxy, and a shiny black jacket of the kind Assembly Members wore. This last garment was patched in several places with unmatched fabric and was left open in front to reveal a broad, hai
ry chest. She also saw that the man appeared to be unarmed. He jumped awkwardly to the ground, or perhaps he was pushed. She could not tell for certain.
The first Cetan was followed by five others, all as badly dressed as their companion, but these were heavily armed with the ugly blunt weapons that were a Cetan invention. What was more, they had their weapons pointed at the first man. Narisa watched them, wondering what was happening. She waited, as Tarik had instructed her to do, until the Cetans were all out of the shuttle and away from its protection before using her force-guns.
Someone pushed the first Cetan, sending him sprawling onto the ground, and another kicked him hard. He doubled up, crying out in pain. The Cetan who appeared to be the leader kept his weapon aimed at the yellow-haired one. He had to be guilty of some crime, Narisa decided, though what a Cetan could possibly do to offend his fellows she could not imagine. At any rate, it looked as though the leader was about to kill one of his own men, making her task, and Tarik’s, that much easier.
“Chon. Chon-chon. Chon.” In a flurry of blue and green wings a dozen birds swooped down upon the Cetans. Narisa saw with horror just how dangerous the birds’ claws and beaks could be as they tore at the men on the beach, preventing them from using their weapons. Within seconds, each of the Cetans had been lifted off his feet by two birds and was being carried far out across the lake. Narisa could hear their despairing cries and curses growing fainter and fainter.
A pair of remaining birds circled the beach a few times, then flew off after their comrades, but not before Narisa had recognized them. The blue one had an old scratch across its beak, and she was certain the green one was the same bird who had given her the fruit.
The birds had carried away only five Cetans. In the confusion of that brief encounter she had seen the yellow-haired Cetan scrambling about on his hands and knees. Now he had disappeared.
When the birds had gone, Narisa clung to the sturdy tree trunk, shaking with relief. She had not wanted to kill another living being. She had thought her hatred of Cetans would overcome her scruples, but it had not, and she was deeply grateful to the birds for having relieved her of the need to do something so abhorrent.
Recalling that there was still work to be done, she slid down from her tree and ran toward the shuttle. Tarik had warned her there might be other crewmen left inside it as reinforcements or guards, so she eyed the entrance cautiously as she approached it. Tarik was there before her, racing across the sand from his own hiding place. He pulled the sliding door all the way back, thrusting his head and shoulders through the entrance, weapon poised and ready in his hand. He backed out quickly.
“No one is in there,” he said.
“Did you call the birds?” Narisa asked.
“No. I thought you might have done it.”
“We were both thinking about the battle to come. Perhaps,” Narisa speculated, “they sensed what would happen and they came to help us. They might retain some memory of what the Cetans did long ago on this planet. I wonder what they will do with those five men. And why would they leave one man behind?”
“I don’t care what they’ve done with the ones they took away. We can discuss possibilities later,” Tarik said shortly. “Right now, we are the ones who need to find the sixth Cetan.”
“He was unarmed,” Narisa reminded him. “They pushed him out of the shuttle before the others so that he would take the first shots if someone began firing at them right away.”
“It might have been some kind of trick.” Tarik was searching among the trees with sharp eyes. “I want him alive, Narisa. He will have information about the ship that we can use.”
She nodded absently, her own attention on the sand, looking for the Cetan’s tracks. She touched Tarik’s arm and pointed. “He left the beach there. He must have been crawling. Perhaps they hurt him badly when they kicked him.”
“That would be our good fortune. Hurt and unarmed he can’t fight. I just hope he’s able to talk and understand us.”
It was not hard to track the Cetan through crushed weeds and broken small bushes, evidence that he had tried to walk and had fallen several times. They found him by the stone wall that surrounded · the central clearing. He huddled on his side against the wall, clutching at his abdomen and moaning softly. Narisa trained her force-gun on him while Tarik made a hasty search for concealed weapons. The Cetan offered no resistance. He cried out when Tarik rolled him over, but it was clear he was trying to muffle the sound.
“Don’t want them to hear,” he ground out between clenched teeth. The Cetan accent was thick, but he spoke in the standard patois of all spacemen. Narisa had no trouble understanding him, nor did Tarik.
“You needn’t worry about your friends. They have been disposed of most efficiently. I doubt we will ever see any of them again.” Tarik produced a length of cord. “Sit up, Cetan, and put your hands behind your back.”
“I am not certain I can,” the Cetan said. “The pain is great.”
“You’ll have more pain if you don’t do what I say,” Tarik told him. “That’s an old-fashioned force-gun my lieutenant is holding. I’m sure you know what such a weapon can do. If you don’t obey me, she will start at your toes and work her way upward slowly.”
The Cetan struggled to sit, his face white above the tangled yellow beard. When he tried to put both arms behind himself, he blanched even more.
“He really is hurt,” Narisa said.
“All the better,” Tarik responded. “He’ll be more likely to do what we want.”
When the Cetan’s hands were tightly bound behind his back, Tarik ordered him to stand. He tried. He got to one knee, but wavered, trying to get his other leg under himself, and Tarik had to help him. Once he was on his feet, Tarik led him through a break in the wall and toward the building in the center of the clearing. Narisa stayed close behind them, her force-gun pointed squarely at the Cetan’s back.
“What…strange place … is this?” The heavily accented words were spoken carefully, and Narisa heard the effort it cost him.
“Never mind,” Tarik snapped. But he did offer a hand to help the Cetan up the three shallow steps and into the building. They took him to the central room.
“How beautiful,” the Cetan said, looking around. “How peaceful.”
“What do Cetans know of beauty and peace?” Narisa asked harshly. “They only know how to destroy both.”
“My mother …my mother was…” The Cetan crashed to the floor and lay there, face up, unconscious, with his muscular legs sprawled wide and his arms twisted behind him.
“Is he dead?” Narisa asked, and found to her surprise that she hoped he was not. As much as she hated Cetans, she was curious about this one. She wondered why his companions had intended to kill him, and what he had meant to say about his mother.
“He’s still breathing.” Tarik squatted beside the Cetan and gently poked at his abdomen. A low moan came through parted lips. “He may be badly hurt. We need him conscious and able to speak.”
“There is medical information stored in the computer,” Narisa said, thinking quickly. “Let me see what I can find.” When he moved between her and the computer, she looked him straight in the eye.
“I will not use the communicator,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level. “There will be no more unauthorized messages sent from here. It would be the height of insanity to try it with a Cetan ship orbiting the planet.”
Tarik nodded and stepped aside, letting her reach the computer. Her search took a remarkably short time.
“We should use the juice from the same fruit the birds gave us for you,” she announced. “There are other remedies for non-humans, but the Cetans are human like us, and for unspecified internal injuries, that juice is the only medicine available on the planet.”
“Would the birds bring it to us to cure a Cetan?” Tarik wondered.
“We won’t need the birds.” Narisa brought up another screen. “There is a small supply of the juice in the second storeroo
m, third cabinet on the left, second shelf from the top.”
“After all this time will it still be potent enough to do any good?”
Tarik came to stand behind her. She was still feeling somewhat shaky after the strange battle on the beach. She wanted to lean back against him and feel his strong arms around her. She believed if she did lean back, he would reject her. They were working well together to carry out his plan, but he had not forgiven her for what she had done. Perhaps he never would. She decided she should concentrate on their immediate problem and deal with Tarik later. She ran a second check on the Cetan’s apparent injuries with Tarik watching over her shoulder.
“There is nothing else we could possibly use on him,” she said.
“I’ll get it.” He headed for the storeroom.
The Cetan was conscious again. He had golden eyes, and they looked at Narisa imploringly.
“My arms ache,” he said. “I cannot roll to my side.”
He did look very uncomfortable on his back with both arms behind him. Narisa pulled a pillow off the couch and stuffed it under his head and shoulders.
“I thank you.” He tried to smile at her. The effort turned into a grimace of pain. “You are kind.”
“Kinder than you deserve, considering what you and your friends have done to so many planets. Like Belta. You showed no kindness, nor any mercy, there.”
“I have never been to Belta,” the Cetan said.
“Is he awake? Good.” Tarik was back with a small glass vial in one hand. “This, Cetan, is medicine, the only thing we have that could cure your injuries. I will hold it to your mouth and you will swallow it.”
