Beast Master's Quest

by Andre Norton

  “Storm and I took the frawn skin to the Loris clan and presented it to his mother. We told her how we’d found the bull and killed it, and we gave her the arrowhead as a true token that her son had died as a warrior, having drawn blood from the beast that killed him. That meant the clan could give a proper warrior dance to farewell his spirit. Having the proof and being able to hold the dance restored status for his family and they were grateful.”

  Storm nodded confirmation to all this. “They were so grateful that they insisted on giving us gifts for all involved in the restoration of their kin’s honor. Being present, Tani and I were able to refuse the gifts, saying that the honor of aiding such a prominent clan was sufficient.”

  Tani dug in the pocket of her shirt. “Since you weren’t there and couldn’t refuse, I have gifts for Laris, Prauo, and Logan. I told them how Laris’s spirit friend had faced the bull to save Logan and that we might not have been able to kill the beast without his courage, and they were very impressed. Their gift to Prauo is the best. Look!” She gently shook items out of the wrapping onto the table, and everyone admired the revealed jewelry.

  “This is for Prauo,” Tani said, lifting the first item—a trade plaque beautifully carved and inset with a light-purple catseye gem. “I told them it was the color of Prauo’s eyes and they insisted he must have it. This other one is for Laris.” She displayed a smaller plaque inset with a smaller gem of the same color. Both had metal loops so they could be worn as pendants.

  Logan reached across the table for the remaining item. It, too, was a trade plaque, but instead of being carved from the usual ivory-looking frawn bone, it was carved from Loris lizard bone stained a soft green. In the center glittered a catseye gem-stone of a slightly darker green. Logan admired it briefly before leaving the table to return moments later carrying leather thongs and a light braided-leather collar.

  He handed one thong to Laris. “Here, you can wear your plaque at once if you like.” He dropped to one knee, looking Prauo in the eyes. “Do you want to wear your plaque on a collar or would you rather not?”

  *It is kind, but I think I would rather not wear a collar, lest those who see me mistake me for property,* was Prauo’s refusal. *Let my sister keep the gift for me. One day it may be useful.*

  Laris nodded, taking the plaque. “I’ll keep it safe.”

  Brad stood, pushing back from the table with a yawn as he led the way to the lounge, where everyone settled into armchairs or onto the long, comfortable sofa. “It’s good you’re back. With luck we’ll have more news very soon. Versha let me know earlier today that the Patrol ship didn’t have to make another stop after all, so they’ll be here in three days.”

  Laris almost squeaked with excitement. “Only three days?”

  Logan snorted sarcastically. “Only three days. I can see you’re almost bored with the news—” A cushion shut his mouth with emphasis. He caught it on the bounce, tossed it back, fielded the second following from Tani and the cushion fight moved out past the table into the next room, leaving Storm with his stepfather. Brad looked after his son and daughter-in-law with affection, and after Laris with affection mixed with some doubt.

  “She’s very young still.”

  Storm’s voice was slow as he considered that. “True, but a child of the refugee camps ages faster than her years. She is kind, sensible, has the beast-master gift, some wealth, and I think her love for my brother is no infatuation but something lasting. In any case, Asizi,” he concluded, using the Navaho word which was a bond between them, “I think they will make up their own minds on the matter. It is better to do or say nothing; then you are free to aid at need.”

  Brad sighed quietly before changing the subject, but his gaze lingered upon the three. The girls were bombarding Logan with cushions while he caught and hurled them back. Cushions bounced, targets squealed happily, and Laris’s face was unusually carefree, alight with uncomplicated joy as he had rarely seen it. Perhaps everything would work out well. A man couldn’t live his children’s lives for them. He could only hope.

  He hid a sigh. There were several things he hadn’t told the children. One thing in particular which had apparently never occurred to Laris or Prauo. The big cat was, as yet, only a baby and sexually immature. What could happen when Prauo matured worried Brad Quade. Some felines went into a form of rut during which they could be extremely dangerous. It would devastate Laris if her best friend and comrade were to be killed or even badly injured by someone who believed they were defending themselves.

  Brad had been looking for some indication of Prauo’s world for a lot longer than his family knew. He’d quietly discussed it with Versha and she had talked to Terran High Command. Had Laris’s inheritance not been discovered, the Patrol had intended to use the information Brad and Tani’s aunt Kady were uncovering to seek out Prauo’s planet if possible and if they could detach a ship from its usually more pressing duties. But with Laris’s ship available and the child’s determination to use it, Brad hoped that he could find enough of a trail to give them a good chance at discovering the world they sought.

  Chapter Four

  Three days later the package sent from Trastor arrived. Versha, Arzoran commander of the Terran Patrol, called the Quade ranch to announce the parcel was at the port. Brad answered the ranch comcaller alone.

  Versha smiled at him as she spoke: “It’s here. Do you want to all come down to the port or would you rather I came up to the ranch?”

  Brad grinned at her face on the screen. “You’re as interested as we are,” he accused. “Why don’t you bring the package here, stay to dinner, and open it with us? After all, if the kids do end up chasing off after this possible Earth-type planet, you and the Patrol will have a legitimate interest.”

  Versha’s dark-skinned, fine-boned face looked back at him soberly. “That’s truer than you know, Quade. It’s almost forty years since we found one. No,” in reply to his questioning look, “we don’t need one yet. But Terran Command would love to have coordinates up their sleeves for when the time comes. And if this world you may have a line on does turn out to have intelligent life, well, we can always use more allies, in case we run into a race like the Xik again. Quite apart from that too, the merchants of twenty human-settled worlds would love to have the chance at trading with a new race.”

  Brad, too, had sobered. “I know, but has it occurred to you that if this world is Prauo’s, his people may not be happy to see us? After all, it looks possible that Machlightner stole one of their cubs, then abandoned him. Just how happy would you be to treat with aliens who’d done that to your kin?”

  “And how happy would they be if they make it into space in a couple of generations and realize we never tried to find Prauo’s home and return him? That’s if they aren’t in space already. Command has been talking about this ever since it realized that there could be a chance of finding Prauo’s world. If you do find the planet, their compensation will be generous. It’ll have been worth your family’s efforts, and having the brass in your debt is a good thing at any time.”

  Brad groaned. “I know. I guess we go looking for the world if these papers give us any leads. After that, if we find a new race, we hope that Prauo and Laris can convince them it was all for the best.”

  Versha nodded. “Yeah, well, I’ll see you all in a couple of hours. Versha out.”

  She was as good as her word when her crawler pulled up at the main house. All four of the younger people, with Brad behind them, were waiting in front of the door. She was swept inside, seated with a mug of swankee, and the package was placed on the table while everyone crowded around it.

  By common consent it was Laris who opened the tidy-looking package which Brad’s friend on Trastor had neatly sealed in heavy tape. So well had he sealed it that it took Laris several minutes to open it and spill papers out in a fan across the old table.

  Storm quietly started to sort the old records, placing them first in date order, then, so far as he could, in separate piles
by ship’s name. To everyone’s delight there was a small pile clearly marked Flame of Antares. At first glance there was nothing interesting about the documents: they were mostly cargo manifests and supply orders, with a sprinkling of crew memos and a copy of the final notice dissolving the company and notifying the captain that the ship would be going to Terran Command on its return.

  Versha pointed to that. “So, now we know notification was sent. It explains why Machlightner made sure no one except his old friend knew he was still around.”

  Laris looked puzzled. “Why?”

  Logan picked up the notice and looked at her. “Because this was an official document. It wasn’t illegal surveys Gerald was running from as much as this. When the crew chose to vanish they became deserters, and taking the ship was theft of government property in wartime.”

  Storm nodded. “For a defense against a charge of desertion, they could always assert citizenship with one of the nonhuman races, or claim a call-up exemption. There were a number of those they could have used. But stealing a spaceship in a time of war, one that had already been legally claimed as war matériel by Terran Command—that’s a capital offense.”

  “What if the crew didn’t get the notice?”

  Storm looked at her kindly. “Laris, High Command wouldn’t have just hauled the crew out and started shooting. They’d have used a deep mind-probe. The whole crew had to have known that if they were innocent they’d never have even been charged. That they chose to stay in hiding indicates that they deserted deliberately. But never mind that now. Let’s see if there’s anything these records can tell us.”

  It was Tani who found those which might. Her whoop of discovery attracted all gazes to her.

  “Cargo manifest and supply chits for what I think may have been their last outward-bound voyage.” She passed them over to Versha, who quickly scanned them.

  “From the times we know that their ship was in port and from the records of supplies here, I’d say this is interesting.” Her gaze darkened. “Very interesting. I wonder if this explains how they vanished so well.”

  “What?” The word was almost a chorus.

  Versha looked up from the plasheets. “They appear to have purchased farming equipment. Let’s see; the war’s been over for almost four years now. It lasted five years, and this ship went missing almost on the eve of the war. So this gear would have been about nine years old. Yes, it fits. It isn’t old stuff; it would have been state-of-the-art at that time. Much of it was nuclear-powered and automatic. Set the parameters, start it going, forget it.”

  Brad scowled. “So what you’re saying is that something of this sort would be a huge advantage on a primitive world.”

  “More than that. It would almost enable humans producing a real food surplus to control that world or at least a large portion of it wherever they’d settled. Most primitive worlds have a chronic food shortage. They get by, but in bad years a lot of children and old people die. I can think of several worlds like that within our sphere of influence.

  “But that isn’t all, Brad. How do you think any Terran-settled planet involved in the war and having a food shortage would have reacted to the arrival of—say—a shipload of grain or meat? Easy to take on board, easy to store, just vent atmosphere in the cargo holds into space, and the grain or meat is freeze-dried as all the moisture boils away into space. It’d keep for days even after they landed. Ample time to transship it into planet-side warehouses.

  Storm said several words under his breath. “They could get rid of a load like that in a lot of places. They would be able to sell it for credits, but they’d also be able to trade for other supplies, even personal luxuries, machinery, or minor repairs for the ship that wouldn’t attract the attention of the authorities.”

  “Which is probably what happened,” Versha said. “Now consider the time since. Nine years isn’t long. They could still be around, they could very well be virtual rulers of some primitive planet.”

  Brad grunted thoughtfully. “They can’t all be fools in that crew. Someone there will have been thinking how Terran Command would react if they found out about that. So they’ve been using the ship to do surveys as well. Load up on supplies, maybe take it in turns to crew—”

  “Maybe take in some of the natives and teach them the basics,” Logan interrupted. Versha’s glare became ferocious.

  “I can see that, too. Crats! I have to take all this to Patrol HQ. Go on, Brad.”

  “Well, if they find an Earth-type planet well outside Terran-claimed space and settle there, maybe they won’t be found for a long time, if ever. Harb seemed to think they’d been making illegal surveys. Maybe that was what he was thinking about. I’m just surprised he didn’t pack up and go with his friend.”

  “He may have meant to if Gerald hadn’t been killed. Harb may know a lot more than he’s said so far.” Versha was looking grimmer by the minute. “I’ll have the authorities pick him up.” She looked at the records as they lay stacked in small, neat piles. “See if you can find a crew list for the Antares. It may give us an idea of how much they could have done.”

  Logan shook his head. “No, it won’t. Look, we know Gerald was on Lereyne at least once. What’s to say it wasn’t only him and not only once? What if the Antares recruited very quietly after the war—or even during it? There’d have always been a few people who’d be happy to leave that behind and get away, particularly if they were on a conscription list or something similar.”

  Versha shook her head. “We can’t get too excited about ideas that are only possibilities. I’ll discuss this with Patrol HQ, and Harb is going to talk, too. Don’t bother, Brad, I know where your comcaller is.” She vanished in an atmosphere of thoughtful determination.

  Brad nodded after her and spoke to Laris. “There goes probable assistance. If a few of the possibilities turn out to be more concrete after further investigation, you’ll have half the Patrol helping you find Prauo’s world. The other half will be looking for whatever the Antares has been up to this past nine years.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “We’ll know that, my dear, when we know exactly what they plan to do. But right now let’s go back to these records. Storm, what can we estimate from them?”

  Storm had taken the small computer as Logan passed it down the table. His fingers flew, inputing all the data he could gather from the crew list, cargo manifest, and supply chits. He input, studied the result, input again, and finally spoke. “Brad, don’t you have a projection program for Terran-surveyed space?” Brad nodded. “Can you get that, please? These figures are very approximate, but we may be able to make some reasonable assumptions.”

  Brad returned, set up the tiny globe, and touched the button on the top. The globe rose from the table-top, and from it miniature planets and suns sparkled into view in holo-projection. Storm picked up the small pointer that came with it. He drew a circle in red light through the globe’s projection.

  “Judging from the cargo manifest and supply chits, if the Antares spaced straight outward and returned, this is the farthest they could have reached saving no safety margin. Now, they’re unlikely to have gone in these directions; the Xik were most active in those sectors. They’re unlikely to have gone beyond Terra this way. That’s where the heaviest concentration of human-settled worlds is.”

  His pointer indicated two other lines outwards. “I think they’d have gone one of these two ways. One shows three planets that Terran Survey reports as inhabited by intelligent life but do not have anything beyond very minor technology. They’re on the hand-pumping and beast-pulled plow level. This other sector was never adequately surveyed. The Survey ships that were just beginning to work in the area were pulled out at once when the war started.”

  Versha had returned and was listening with concentrated interest.

  “Depending on whether the Patrol gets anything from Harb which can help us, I would say the obvious thing for our group to do is to search the second quadrant while the Patrol
investigates the first. Since we’re not hauling cargo and we’re planning only the one trip—probably—we aren’t taking the crew numbers the Antares had, either. If we cram the Lady with supplies and take extra fuel bricks for emergencies, we should be able to go to the limit of the area they reached and have time to search a number of worlds as well.”

  Laris looked at him hopefully. “Do you think we’ll find Prauo’s world?”

  Storm shook his head. “I don’t know. Harb may be able to give us something more to go on. But truthfully, with the little we have so far, I wouldn’t give us a high chance of success.”

  Laris slumped dejectedly. At her side Prauo sent to her only: *Sister-without-fur, this is no great matter to me. I would be happy to find my world again. But not if it means losing you. Rather would I have my sister than a world I do not even recall. Know this for certain; I go nowhere you cannot go, I accept no people who do not accept you. It would be pleasant to find my world, but it is not a requirement for us two.*

  Careless of any watchers, Laris knelt and hugged him tightly. *So we’ll go and look. I hope we find your world for you—but if we don’t, then I guess Arzor will be our world.*

  Prauo’s mind-voice became teasing. *Indeed, sister. And Logan may be the mate you have in mind when you have both completed your courtship rituals.*

  Laris blushed faintly as she stood again. *There’s time for that later. Right now let’s see what we can do about discovering new worlds.*

  Determinedly she picked up a stack of the Antares records and began studying them. It was unlikely she would see anything the vastly more experienced Brad and Storm had not already seen. But she would do her share of the work.

  It took most of the day, but at last everyone was certain they had wrung all the useful information from the records. Several times during their work and breaks to eat, Versha had received spacegrams or messages through the comcaller. Some were direct, others were relayed from the Patrol building at Arzor’s spaceport.