Venus Rising

by Speer, Flora

  She watched the brilliant sunrise streak the sky with a dazzling array of colors, saw the snow atop the single distant mountain begin to glow with the golden sunlight, and knew she wanted to climb that mountain and to explore whatever lay on the other side. There was a salty sea far beyond the horizon; she knew as much from the computer. Next to the sea lay the original settlement. Narisa wanted to see it, and she wanted Tarik beside her when she did.

  “Chon.” Blue-feathered wings fluttered, then folded against a lustrous blue body. It was the first bird she had ever seen here, the same one that had saved her from the snake. Narisa recognized the scar on its beak. Each bird was different from all the others. If she had had time, she could have learned to know them all. It was her own fault her time on this planet was ending, and in that quiet dawn moment Narisa fully recognized all she was losing by leaving it.

  She approached the bird. It waited for her, cocking its head as she moved nearer. She reached out and stroked the bird’s wing, as she had done once before, feeling the stiff flight feathers beneath her fingers. Then, daringly, she touched the softer feathers of the bird’s chest. It did not move away. Narisa took another step, coming nearer to stroke the bird from its throat down along its rich blue body. As she did so, the bird’s wing came around her, enfolding her against itself. Narisa rested there, her cheek and one hand against its soft chest. She could see out of the corner of her eye the bird’s three primitive fingers at the last joint of the wing, and the long, toothed beak, just slightly open. She felt no fear at all, only a great sadness at having to leave creatures she had come to think of as friends, and this friend in particular. And with her mind open to the bird, she sensed an understanding, a comprehension on the bird’s part that she must go and was sad about it.

  Return one day. The thought lay deep in her mind, and she did not know absolutely if it was herself or the bird who had put it there.

  She heard Tarik calling her. The bird refolded its wing.

  “Good-bye,” Narisa said, her voice breaking on a sob, and ran back to the building in the center of the island.

  Gaidar knew everything about the Cetan ship. It was large, with plenty of cargo space for the booty the Cetans loved so much, but it could easily be piloted with a small crew. The captain remained aboard with three crew members.

  “The smaller the crew,” Gaidar told them, “the greater the profits for each crew member. That will be to our advantage. We will not have so many Cetans to overcome. But be warned, the artificial gravity aboard the ship is somewhat greater than you have been used to on this planet. You will have to adjust yourselves to it as quickly as possible.”

  Tarik, Narisa and Gaidar were well armed when they went aboard the shuttle. Narisa had felt a thrill of fear at the sight of an armed Cetan, but had agreed with Tarik that Gaidar would need to defend himself against his former crew mates.

  With Narisa navigating, Tarik piloting and Gaidar handling communications with the main ship by pretending to be the lost leader of the shuttle crew, they docked the vessel with the larger Cetan ship. According to the plan, Gaidar stepped out first, force-gun in hand. Before the single crew member posted at the docking deck to monitor the return of the shuttle could recognize him and give any alarm, he was stunned into unconsciousness.

  “Only three left,” Tarik said, helping Gaidar to bind the Cetan securely. “Let’s lower that to two.”

  Gaidar stepped to a communications panel in the nearest bulkhead and, still mimicking the voice of the shuttle commander, called for another crew member to help unload he shuttle, mentioning a great deal of heavy and very valuable plunder. The man appeared a few minutes later, and promptly joined the first Cetan, unconscious and tightly bound.

  They all paused on the docking deck for a while so Tarik and Narisa could begin to adjust to the heavier gravity. They allowed as little time as possible, for they did not want the delay to cost them the element of surprise they still enjoyed. Gaidar had drawn them a diagram of the interior of the ship, and Tarik and Narisa had memorized it. They located the bridge with no trouble, while Gaidar made a quick check of the rest of the ship to make certain they would have no unexpected problems.

  At the entrance to the bridge, by their prearranged plan, Narisa silently handed her force-gun to Tarik and went in alone. The first officer was there, lolling idly in the captain’s chair. Narisa recognized him from Gaidar’s description. He came to immediate attention at the unusual sight of a woman on the bridge. He stood up, one hand reaching for the communicator button, but he crumpled before his fingers made contact with it, stunned into unconsciousness when Tarik used Narisa’s force-gun.

  “There is only the captain left now,” Gaidar announced as he joined them. He watched Tarik tie up the officer while Narisa retrieved her force-gun. “He is mine to take.”

  “This is too easy.” Her original distrust of all Cetans returning, Narisa wondered if they were being caught in a trap. Her concern was dispelled a moment later, as well as her lingering doubts about Gaidar, when the captain himself arrived on the bridge. He was a short, dark man, with huge shoulders. The rank smell of his unwashed body filled the small bridge of his ship. He carried a huge Cetan hand weapon.

  “So,” the captain snarled, “you still live, do you, Gaidar? Not for long. Stand away from those instruments. I don’t want to damage them when I kill you. Where are my other men from the shuttle? I’ve been calling the docking deck and getting no answer.”

  “They are gone forever,” Gaidar told him, clutching his force-gun and edging farther away from the menacing captain. “You will be, too, if you cause me any trouble. I would enjoy repaying you for all the indignities you brought on me.”

  “I am only sorry,” the captain said, “that I did not kill you the first day you came on board.”

  As Gaidar slid along the panel of instruments, Narisa realized what he was trying to do. Tarik was hidden behind the captain’s chair, where he was down on his knees while tying up the first officer. Narisa was to the right of the hatch the captain had used, pressed flat against the metal bulkhead. The captain had come in the hatch, seen Gaidar, and focused all his attention on him. He had not noticed Tarik or Narisa. Gaidar kept moving away so that the captain, following him, had his back to the other two.

  Narisa lifted her force-gun. It was a difficult shot. If she missed, she would almost certainly hit Gaidar. But she had to take the chance; the captain was going to kill him, and would do it at any second. Narisa fired.

  Something was wrong with her weapon. The button clicked loudly as she pressed it, and she felt a slight recoil, but the captain did not fall. Instead, he turned on her, his huge weapon poised.

  “A female!” The captain leered at her. “And armed. Too bad. I would have enjoyed raping you, but now I’ll have to kill you instead.”

  Then everything happened at once. Gaidar fired his own force-gun at the captain, but it worked no better than Narisa’s had, and in frustration he brought the barrel down on the back of the captain’s head. At the same time Tarik fired from his position behind the captain’s chair. The captain’s weapon went off, plowing a hole in the inside bulkhead just above Narisa’s left shoulder. She was knocked to the deck by the force of the impact and by the pull of the ship’s gravity.

  Narisa shook her head, trying to clear her senses. Gaidar was sitting on the captain’s back holding the man’s arms together while Tarik bound them. On Gaidar’s face was the broadest grin Narisa had ever seen.

  “Narisa, are you all right?” Tarik asked, pulling the cord tighter around the captain’s wrists.

  “I think so.” She rubbed her left shoulder. “The force-guns didn’t work.”

  “I noticed. We must have done something wrong with them. Perhaps they need recharging, or it could be the change in gravity. We’ll tend to them later. Gaidar, get off his back. You may have the honor of carrying him to the brig.”

  “They call it the hole,” Gaidar said, still grinning. “It is self-contained,
and no one can escape from it. Prisoners are one to a cell, each with its own piped-in supply of moldy food and bad water. It is constructed so that if anyone tries to escape, his cell is automatically ejected from the ship with no air supply. No one tries. I spent a few days in one of those cells early in the voyage. It’s the most efficient section of the ship.”

  “It sounds ideal.” Tarik gave a harsh laugh. “I suggest we deposit each of our four friends in his own cell. Narisa, can you help us?”

  “Yes.” She was on her feet again, a little shaky, but unhurt.

  It was difficult to drag the unconscious men to the brig. Gaidar, being used to the ship’s gravity, tossed the captain over his shoulder and stalked through the ship with him, but it took both Tarik and Narisa to carry the first officer. Once they had reached the brig, it required little time to seal the captain and his three crew members into their cells. When that was done, Narisa, Tarik and Gaidar returned to the bridge and prepared to leave orbit.

  “The equipment is easy enough to understand,” Narisa reported from her seat at the navigator’s station, “except for this panel. Do you know what it is, Gaidar?”

  “Starthruster,” Gaidar replied promptly.

  “You will have to tell Narisa how to use it,” Tarik said. “Otherwise, we won’t reach the Capital in time to warn the Assembly.”

  “I understand.” Gaidar made no protest about revealing information he had planned to keep secret a while longer. Perhaps he had concluded by now that his two companions were trustworthy, Narisa thought as he leaned over her shoulder. While Tarik stood on her other side, watching, Gaidar quickly explained all he knew of Starthruster’s function. “I have never used it myself, but before I fell afoul of the captain, I was often on the bridge, and I watched the navigator carefully.”

  “Is he among the men in the brig?” Tarik asked. “We might be able to convince him to supply more information.”

  “He’s gone,” Gaidar told them. “He was the leader of the shuttle crew.”

  “Well, then.” Tarik drew a deep breath. “We will take our chances on Narisa’s skills, which are brilliant.”

  Narisa warmed at the compliment. She felt remarkably calm as she plotted their course away from the Empty Sector and on to the Capital. Although she knew that nothing in the Empty Sector ever stayed the same for long, she committed to memory the exact coordinates of the planet they had just left in case, she told herself, she ever had a chance to return. She blinked away unexpected moisture that suddenly filled her eyes, and took the Cetan ship out of orbit. Then, following Gaidar’s instructions, she activated Starthruster. He had told her that the speed made possible by the device would overcome most of the navigational eccentricities of the Empty Sector. In that he was correct. They were out of the Empty Sector in two hours.

  “Incredible,” Tarik said. “When do you estimate our arrival at the Capital?”

  “In one point three six days.” Narisa was as amazed as Tarik. “There is no apparent effect on us or the ship, though I would assume these speeds will play havoc with time. We will probably arrive at the Capital younger by a few hours than we were when we left the planet.”

  “There is another effect of this speed we haven’t thought of,” Tarik mused. “We can’t contact anyone until we drop back to orbital speed when we approach the Capital. We need to prepare a message to send out the instant we arrive, or the Service guards will blast this Cetan ship into atoms as soon as we appear.”

  “I can cut the speed a little ahead of time to give us a few extra seconds,” Narisa suggested.

  “Good idea. You’ve done well, Narisa.” Tarik rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment before he turned to Gaidar and began asking detailed questions about Cetan warships.

  Only Tarik and Narisa took turns piloting the ship. Gaidar made a single joke about their lack of confidence in him, then let the matter drop and busied himself with living arrangements. In contrast to most spaceships, where order was considered a matter of safety, the Cetan ship was unbelievably dirty. It was littered with cast-off clothing, open food packets and bits of malodorous garbage. Gaidar cleaned out two small cabins just off the bridge, one where Narisa and Tarik could take turns sleeping, and one for himself.

  Narisa was loathe to lie down upon a Cetan bunk, although Gaidar assured her the covers were the cleanest he could find, but she found she was tired. She slept deeply, dreaming about the birds and sunrise over the lake until Tarik called her for her watch.

  Her second sleep period was more restless, for the bunk was still warm from Tarik’s body and the covers smelled of him. When she finally slept, she dreamed he had begun to make love to her and then left her. She awakened with her body aching from an odd combination of wanting him and the effects of the heavy gravity. She lay with her eyes closed, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the ship, and of Gaidar talking to Tarik before he went into his own cabin and closed the door. She heard Tarik enter her cabin, and felt him bend over her.

  “Narisa, wake up, it’s your watch.”

  She raised her arms, locked them around his neck and pulled him down to her. She had moved quickly, and the heavy gravity helped her purpose. Tarik fell on top of her, his face buried in her neck. She clung to him, kissing his cheek, running her hand through his hair. He moaned just before his mouth found hers and they gave themselves up to a deep, passionate kiss. He moved oh her, and she knew he wanted her, too, but when the kiss ended, he pulled away and stood up.

  “Tarik,” she whispered, reaching for his hand.

  “No,” he said, “not here. It’s too dangerous. One of us should be out there on the bridge every minute.”

  “Then just kiss me once more.”

  “I can’t.” But she saw the longing on his face, and her heart began to sing.

  “Have you forgiven me?” It was the wrong question. His face closed into a tight, sharp mask. “Tarik, please. I’ve said I’m sorry.”

  “This is not the time, or the place, to discuss our personal relations. I honestly don’t know what I feel about you, Narisa. I only know we both have a duty to get Gaidar safely to the Capital so he can tell his story. After that, we can talk. We will have to wait until then. Now, please get up. It’s time for your watch, and I’m tired. I want to sleep.”

  “It’s the gravity. I tire easily, too.” She stood up, accidentally bumping against him and wanting to put her arms around him. But she couldn’t. She knew he was right; this was no time for dalliance. They would both have to wait, though it took all the discipline and self-control she could muster. Still, she had gained something from this brief encounter. She knew now that he still wanted her. That would have to be enough for the present.

  They left the Cetan ship in formal Service procession, escorted by four Service guards, and with Narisa walking the correct three paces behind Tarik. They had docked at the spaceport, which orbited above the Capital. The Cetan prisoners had been removed and taken below to be confined on the planet’s surface. Gaidar had been taken away, too, despite Tarik’s strong protest that the man was under his personal protection.

  Narisa knew Tarik was already chafing under Service regulations. The most disquieting thing about their arrival was that Narisa herself was irritated at the refusal of Service personnel to listen to either Tarik or her until all the formalities had been carried out. It was not so long ago that she would have insisted on every step of their arrival being done by strict protocol, but at the moment she felt like screaming at everyone in Service uniform.

  “While we are being forced through correct procedures,” she muttered, “the Cetans could attack and destroy the Capital.”

  “If we protest, the Assembly will refuse to hear us,” Tarik warned over his shoulder. “Be patient. From what I see ahead, we may be fortunate after all.”

  They had reached the official reception room. The little procession came to a stop before a tall, thin man in the black jacket and trousers of a Member of the Assembly. That he was a high-ranking Me
mber was evident from the rows of silver braid at his collar and wide cuffs and the silver sash draped from right shoulder to left waist. Nor did Narisa need the formal introduction Tarik was making. She knew him at once. This was Tarik as he would be in forty years, still lithe and slim, his sharp features traced with lines, his dark hair threaded with silver. Only his eyes were different, a paler blue than Tarik’s, and piercing, searching, never resting.

  “My father, Assembly Member Almaric,” Tarik said, and Narisa gave a smart regulation salute.

  “I am sent to escort you both to the Assembly,” Almaric announced without any personal greeting to his son. “It is in session, and you will be heard at once, since you have insisted you have news of desperate importance. I must tell you that most Members would have preferred to wait until the next session to hear you. Your appearance will disrupt the order of our business.”

  “This can’t wait,” Tarik replied.

  “You always were impatient,” Almaric said with a hint of distressed tolerance. “Come to the transporter then, and on the way down to the Capital perhaps you will tell me what is so urgent.”

  “We must talk in private,” Tarik said. “Please send these guards away. And I want Gaidar released at once. I gave him my word he would be unharmed.”

  “I assure you he is unharmed. Do calm yourself, Tarik. These are not guards, they are an honor escort. This Gaidar you want protected is waiting outside the Assembly chambers under correct guard. You didn’t really expect us to let a Cetan wander freely about the Capital, did you? Even unarmed, Cetans are dangerous.”