by Speer, Flora
“Why do you want to cure me?” The man on the floor seemed to have regained some strength. “Is it so you may then torture me longer before I die? I will not swallow your medicine so you can make sport of me.”
“We don’t torture people,” Narisa said angrily. “We aren’t Cetans.”
“You are from the Jurisdiction. I know your uniforms. There is little difference between us.” The Cetan tried to move his arms. He winced from the pain the effort created. “If I tell you something important, will you unbind my arms and let me die in fair combat? I will fight you with no weapons at all.”
“I won’t fight a wounded man.” Tarik regarded his prisoner with interest. “I will make a bargain with you, however. I will give you this medicine, and in return, you will tell me the ‘something important.’ “
“And then you will torture me.”
“No, then you will help me with my plan,” Tarik said, his voice soft as he watched the man’s reactions. “What is your name?”
“Gaidar.”
“Well, then, Gaidar, this medicine will make you sleep while it works, so before you take it you will tell me how soon the men on the shuttle were to contact your parent ship up there in orbit.”
“One hour after landing,” the Cetan replied promptly.
“One hour? Do you use Jurisdiction time?”
“It is simpler to do so. Easier to track and destroy Jurisdiction ships.” Gaidar paused, breathing deeply as if to gather all his strength. ``I will help you. I have no cause for loyalty to them. They would have killed me for a very stupid reason.”
“What reason?” Narisa asked.
“I suggested we not kill whoever we found on this planet. I am tired of killing. I wanted to hold you for ransom. I thought it would be profitable.”
“And for that they were going to kill you?”
“They do not like new ideas, except for new weapons. They are confirmed in all their old hatreds against the Races of the Jurisdiction. They want to continue killing and destroying. It gives them pleasure.”
“You say, ‘they,’“ Narisa said. “You are a Cetan, too.”
“Only half Cetan. My mother was Demarian. Another reason for my shipmates to dislike me. Help me to rise,” Gaidar told them, “and I will send whatever message you want, and thus satisfy the Cetan crew.”
“No,” Narisa cried. “We know what Cetans are. You can’t expect us to trust you.”
“Nor should I trust you,” Gaidar countered. “But I recognize when I have no choice. Perhaps you should do the same.” He closed his eyes.
“Tarik,” Narisa appealed to him, “don’t let this creature near the communicator.”
“I don’t see how he can do more harm than you did,” Tarik responded, causing Narisa to wince at the barb. “Don’t forget, lieutenant, the birds left him behind when they took the other Cetans away. Suppose they did it deliberately?”
“Why would they do that?”
“The others had murderous thoughts in their minds. This one, unarmed and scheduled to be a victim, did not. Perhaps the birds thought he could be of use to us.”
“It’s possible,” Narisa admitted, “based on what we know of the birds. But I still don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I, not completely, but I think we have to take the chance. We haven’t much time before the captain of the Cetan ship expects a message.”
Narisa did not agree with Tarik, but she did not want to alienate him any further.
“I withdraw my objection,” she relented.
Tarik looked pleased. Gaidar opened his golden eyes and stared at her.
“I promise I will not disappoint you,” he said.
“You won’t have a chance,’’ Tarik told him. He handed the vial of medicine to Narisa, then assisted Gaidar to the computer-communicator. The Cetan gave a short laugh when he saw it.
“This is an old machine. Very old. Cetans have better, even on that bad ship up there.” Gaidar glanced upward.
“This one works well enough,” Tarik remarked. Then he grew deadly serious. “Gaidar, you will say exactly what I tell you to say. Be aware of my lack of trust in you. You still need to prove yourself to me. It you deviate in any way, Lieutenant Narisa here will use her force-gun on your most sensitive parts. Do not expect her to show mercy. She has just cause for wishing all Cetans dead.”
“What shall I say?” Gaidar slumped in one of the chairs at the console. Narisa could tell by his white face and clenched jaw that he was in considerable pain. She almost felt sorry for him.
“You will make your voice sound like the leader of the men who came in the shuttle,” Tarik ordered. “You will report that Gaidar is dead, and you have killed two people you found on the island. You are now beginning to search this building for booty. Is there a specified time for a second message after this one?”
“Not until the shuttle is ready to return to the main ship. Communications are arranged that way to keep other Cetan ships from taking our loot if they should intercept a message, or possible rescue ships from interfering with a raid. An approximate length of time is agreed on for the men on the shuttle to finish the job and be ready to return, but sometimes the captain grows impatient and simply destroys the planet whether his own men are on it or not. He always fears a trick if his men are captured. I don’t think he will do the usual thing this time, though. This is the only shuttle he has left. He wants it back.”
“A charming man, your captain. Tell him it will take time down here because this is a large building with many locked rooms. Say you believe there are many valuable things stored here. That should hold him in orbit and keep him relatively patient.”
Tarik dialed the frequency Gaidar had told him to use, and Gaidar spoke into the communicator. A harsh voice rasped back at him, and Gaidar nodded at Tarik to end the transmission.
“Now,” Tarik said, “while you can still walk, we go into one of the personal rooms. You will lie down on the bed, and I will give you the medicine.”
“Will you untie my arms?”
“No, but we will make you as comfortable as possible with pillows.”
Gaidar stumbled as he walked, but he made it to the bed Tarik indicated. He opened his mouth and took the medicine from the vial, swallowing it without protest. He was asleep before Narisa and Tarik had finished piling pillows around him to support his back and shoulders.
“What next?” Narisa asked.
“I will inspect the shuttle, while you stand guard here. I don’t think Gaidar has tried to trick us. It wouldn’t be to his advantage to help people who want to kill him as his former shipmates do, but just in case I have misread his character, I want you to stay alert while I’m gone.”
She did as he ordered. Tarik returned an hour later.
“We can fly the shuttle,” he reported. “The controls are nothing unusual. All we have to do now is wait until Gaidar wakes up. I want all the information he has about the crew and the layout of the ship.”
At his suggestion, Narisa tried to sleep, but found she could not. She remained too apprehensive about the second part of Tarik’s plan, which was to try to capture or destroy the Cetan spaceship, and thus put an end to the danger they were in. Narisa feared they would not succeed, but if they should, what would happen then? If she did her part well, would Tarik forgive her for what he called her betrayal? She ached for his touch and wanted desperately to know he still cared about her. And what of Gaidar, what would they do with him? Her mind was filled with so many questions and possibilities that she hardly knew what to hope for or expect, and tossed restlessly on her narrow bed. She had just begun to drift into a half sleep when Tarik shook her.
“Gaidar is awake,” Tarik said. “He’s much improved. Come and hear this important information he claims to have.”
“Will you believe what he says?” she asked, swinging her feet to the floor.
“I’ll know that after I’ve heard him. He has good reason to side with us against his former companions. T
hey will kill him on sight, while we at least will give him a chance to fight for his life.”
Tarik had moved the still-bound Gaidar to one of the cushioned chairs in the central room. There was food on the table, along with a pitcher of the hot herbal brew Tarik liked.
“I have told Gaidar,” Tarik said, indicating that Narisa should take a seat on the couch, “that we will untie him and let him eat, but I will have a force-gun aimed at him every second. Knowing how you hate Cetans, I’ll do the job so you won’t have to touch him.”
“I will not attack you,” Gaidar promised. “It would be foolish for me to do so.”
Tarik gave his force-gun to Narisa to hold while he untied Gaidar. Then he settled comfortably into the second cushioned chair and took the gun from Narisa.
“Go ahead and eat,” he said to her. “You, too, Gaidar.”
Narisa poured herself a cup of the herbal brew and sat sipping it while Gaidar rubbed his wrists and flexed his shoulders and fingers. After a while he picked up one of the round loaves of flat bread and began to eat it.
“I want information.” The prod was verbal, but the way Tarik held the force-gun constituted a silent backup to his cool words. “We made a bargain, Gaidar.”
“So we did, and whatever you say about Cetans, we keep our word. I regret making you wait, but I was not fed for three days before we landed here, and I am hungry. The captain saw no sense in wasting valuable food stores on one who would soon be dead.” Gaidar took the cup of steaming liquid, which Narisa had filled and pushed across the table toward him. He raised it, saluting her with it before he drank. `’I thank you again, lieutenant, for your kindness. Commander Tarik, I think perhaps I should first tell you a little about my life. It will help you to believe me.”
“We don’t have much time,” Tarik objected.
“It will not take long.” Gaidar picked up another loaf of bread. “As I told you before, I am only half Cetan. My mother was a Demarian slave. She lived long enough to teach me that there are other Races with more peaceful ways of living before my father killed her. I was nine Cetan years old when he broke her neck. I saw him do it. There was nothing I could do to help her. She had made me understand that to survive among the Cetans I must pretend to be like them in every way, so I did not attack my father for what he had done. I pretended I did not care. I went on to become a mighty warrior, and my father was proud of me.
“As I grew older, I began to hate myself, for I saw the damage Cetans do to innocent Races that have not harmed them in any way. I then tried to change my father’s methods, to convince him to treat his captives better. For my efforts I was degraded and punished further by being made to serve on that pirate ship up there in orbit, whose crew are the scum of the Cetan worlds. My father thought it would break my pride to be subject to that captain. He underestimated my endurance. I was determined to survive and eventually to find a place where I could live in peace. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of suggesting we ransom you instead of killing you. You know the rest.”
Narisa never took her eyes off Gaidar during this recitation. She believed he was telling the truth. For the first time in her life she felt a stirring of sympathy for a Cetan. She glanced at Tarik when Gaidar had finished, to see if she could discern from his expression what he thought of Gaidar’s story. She knew Tarik’s family was from Demaria. He might feel some pity for a Demarian slave who had tried to teach her child peaceful ways, and thus be sympathetic to that child. Tarik’s face revealed nothing of his feelings, nor, when he spoke, did his voice.
“This is not the important information you promised us,” Tarik said.
“I come to that now,” Gaidar told him. “The Cetans are massing to attack the Jurisdiction at its Capital. For once the Cetan leaders will work together. Their joint desire to destroy the Jurisdiction may keep the old hatreds among the various warlords under control long enough for them to succeed.”
There was silence when Gaidar finished speaking. Narisa and Tarik both sat staring at him, each of them thinking what this information would mean.
“Where are they massing these ships?” Tarik demanded at last. “What type of ships? How many? When?”
“Even now,” Gaidar said. “In the old Beltan Sector which was so decimated by Cetan attacks years ago that it is still under-populated. Much of it remains in Cetan control. It is a safe place for Cetans, with the advantage of being just within Jurisdiction borders. There are fifteen great warlords who have agreed to fight together. Each has at least ten large ships in addition to many smaller ones, and every ship will be equipped with a Cetan invention that will make interstellar travel both faster and safer than it has ever been before. With the new Starthruster device, it will take just three days to move the entire fleet from Belta to the Capital, moving so quickly that no Jurisdiction vessel will be able to see or stop them.”
“That’s impossible,” Narisa cried. “I can think of a dozen problems such speed would cause to the ship’s structure, to human bodies, to navigational instruments and communications. It can’t be done.”
“It has been done and tested,” Gaidar said. “That is the other part of my information, and the reason I know so much about this new device. The ship above has been equipped with Starthruster. When we intercepted your rescue call, we were on a trial voyage. Like you, the captain was skeptical. He wanted to test Starthruster before joining his warlord at Belta.”
“I still can’t believe what you say. It’s too incredible,” Narisa insisted.
“This planet is located far inside the Empty Sector, lieutenant. How do you think we reached you so quickly after your rescue call went out, if Starthruster does not work? And, incidentally, we were not traveling at full speed.”
“It would explain the remarkable speed registered while we were tracking your ship,” Narisa admitted.
“How does it work?” Tarik interjected.
“That,” Gaidar said with a smile, “will remain my secret. I will tell your Assembly, after I have been given my freedom, and my life.”
“You are very clever,” Narisa breathed. “Tarik -”
“Yes,” Tarik said. “I know my duty. We must capture the Cetan ship without destroying it, or damaging this Starthruster device, and then we have to take it to the Capital. The Assembly must be warned, and Starthruster turned over to Jurisdiction scientists. We have no choice. We have to return to the Jurisdiction at once.”
Narisa should have been pleased to hear him say so. Instead, she was suddenly uncertain she wanted to return to her old life.
“You need fear no punishment from the Assembly since you are the one who warned us of the coming attack,” she said to Gaidar, but she said it as much to reassure herself as to placate his concern. She regarded him with deep and increasing interest. He had a wide, pleasant face, with a square jaw evident beneath his unkempt beard, and a nose that looked as though it had been broken once or twice and never reset properly. She looked at his large square hands, now holding his cup while he drank. The last joint of his left little finger was missing. Gaidar saw the direction of her glance.
“It was a punishment,” he told her. “Cetans begin by removing the fingers, one joint at a time. Then they progress to the toes, later to more sensitive parts. Most Cetans have at least a few fingers missing. I was fortunate. My mother was not. When she died, she had no fingers on her left hand.”
“`No wonder you feel no loyalty to them.”
“I do not, lieutenant, but I must confess that I do not completely trust in your Assembly, either. I would like some further guarantee that they will not take Starthruster and all the information I can provide about it, and then take my life, too. I want to see more of our galaxy before I die, and I want to die honorably in battle, not as a broken prisoner.”
“I give you my word,” Tarik swore, “my most solemn promise, Gaidar. The Assembly will not harm you after you have told your story.”
“You have my word also, Gaidar,” Narisa added. “I will stan
d with Tarik on this.” She was rewarded by a warm look from Tarik, but it was not only for his approval that she had spoken. Despite her earlier reservations, she believed Gaidar’s story completely. Her doubts had disappeared as she listened to his straightforward speech. Because of Tarik’s searching questions put to her about Jurisdiction law, she had some serious concern about how honorably the Assembly would deal with a Cetan, even one who brought them information of such monumental importance. But Gaidar’s story must be told, and for his sake, and Tarik’s, she would stand with them both no matter what happened when they faced the Assembly.
“I believe it is ordained,” Gaidar said, “that I should travel to your Capital. My mother used to tell me her people believed in going boldly out to meet one’s fate. I will begin to think of myself as Demarian, and follow that creed.”
“The Demarians are my people, too,” Tarik said.
“Are they? Then we should be friends. I believe you are an honest man. I will trust you, and your lieutenant, if not your Assembly.” Gaidar put out one huge hand. After a few seconds’ hesitation Tarik put out his own, and to her astonishment, Narisa watched Commander Tarik Gibal of the Jurisdiction Service shake hands with a Cetan.
Chapter Eight
Narisa left the building in the gray early morning light, leaving Tarik and Gaidar discussing the final details of their plan to capture the Cetan ship. They would not miss her for the little while she would be gone, and there were things she wanted to do before the coming day’s dangerous events.
She went to Dulan’s grave first, to whisper a farewell to that last, valiant spirit of the ancient settlement. Then she went down to the lake shore on the opposite side of the island from the Cetan shuttle. Here the beach was narrower, the sand smooth and undisturbed by violence. Tiny waves lapped along the water’s edge.
Narisa stood still, absorbing the peace and beauty while the sky turned brighter. She thought back to the first sunrise over the lake, which she had watched from the mainland. Everything that had happened since that morning had changed her a little more, compounding the changes that had begun the moment she and Tarik had landed on this planet. Now she did not want to leave it, and that was the biggest change of all. She felt that she and Tarik belonged here. This world was their home, the place each of them had been seeking; Tarik deliberately, herself unknowing until he showed it to her.
