Decision at Doona

by Anne McCaffrey

  “The captain is also right, Shih,” McKee put in quietly. “He has to follow his schedule. That means we stay until Codep recalls us, if you get what we mean.”

  Hu Shih drew himself up and looked so disapproving that McKee blanched and dropped his eyes.

  «I get what you mean, Macy. And I repeat – we leave when we are ordered to. And if that homing capsule arrives before tomorrow's blast-off, we leave tomorrow.»

  The metropologist did not see the not-if-I-can-avoid-it expression of Kiachifs face.

  “Super,” the Captain boomed out to break the awkward pause, “all your papers in order? I'm getting mighty hungry for what smells like honest-injun food. By the Great Horned Toad, that aroma's killing me,” and he drew in a massive breath from the open window. “If you get what I mean!”

  Chapter XI. THE FEAST

  THE HUGE BONFIRE burned with a bluish-purple, orange-tipped flame, lighting the Common spectacularly. Trestle tables had been set up and hastily improvised benches had been extruded from plastic scrounged from the ship's supplies. To men long celibate there was the wonderful presence of women, coming and going between the mess hall and the barbecue pit. There Ramasan presided over the spit with the huge prong-horned urf buck slain by the joint efforts of Hrruban and Terran hunters for the occasion. Torches moved down the long slope from Saddle Ridge, across the river, as still more Hrrubans came to the feast. As the firelight threw shadows of grotesque parodies, Ken wondered that there were so many Hrrubans in the one village.

  The women had pitched into the preparations with a determination that proved they were avoiding all thought of the future and its problems. Ken was not the only man grateful for feminine reticence, and thankful to whatever instinct prompted them to make this night one to remember.

  Aurie Gaynor, as if to make up for her husband's allergy, stood at the bridge to welcome the Hrruban guests.

  Julie O'Grady and the Colonel's Lady, whoever they were," she had flung at Lee Lawrence when she volunteered herself. "And if I can't purr, I can radiate charm, wit and personality."

  Phyllis Hu, a delicate-appearing woman with luminous beauty, had taken a rapturous inventory of the available supplies of local produce. She told Ramasan he had been chef long enough and to please go turn that buck so it wouldn't char. She'd handle the rest. Imagine, letting a man fool with real food.

  Akosua Adjei and Ann Eckerd (known as Anneck to distinguish her from Anne Solinari) took charge of setting up dining facilities. Sally Lawrence unpacked her treasured guitar and Ezra Moody proved how successfully he had been able to use local animal gut to restring his violin. Dot McKee and her twin teenage daughters volunteered as scullery crew.

  Aurie Gaynor sent a message to Ken Reeve that the Hrruban women were coming laden with food and what did one do?

  “Just show them where to set the stuff down,” Reeve told young Bill Moody. “With the exception of two tubers and some local fungi, we tolerate the same foods. And, Bill, those round purplish nuts are the best eating on this world or the next.”

  Reeve had settled himself with Dautrish and Hu Shih and they were shortly joined by the captain and the supercargo.

  “Like the old-timey pioneer days in the nineteenth century, if you get what I mean,” the captain was saying as the men watched the well-organized chaos around them “How much of this local smokable you got on hand, Mr. Botanist?” he asked Dautrish, relishing the taste in his pipe.

  «Well, not a great deal. The Hrrubans don't smoke,» Dautrish began. «I gather it has medicinal properties for them rather than – whatever you call smoking.»

  “I feel,” Hu Shih remarked, “the evening supplies its own pleasant intoxicants of good food taken in the presence of loved ones long missed, and of new-found friends.”

  “I get what you mean,” Kiachif agreed with patient resignation.

  Out of a pool of darkness cast by a small shrub, Hrrestan and Hrral stepped toward them. Reeve rose immediately and introduced the two Hrrubans to Kiachif and the supercargo. As he stepped aside to allow the two elders to seat themselves, Reeve caught sight of Hrral's tail carefully curling under the bench, and remembered his son.

  “Good Lord, that child's still locked in his room,” he exclaimed with guilty remorse.

  Hrral's wide mouth dropped in the Hrruban grin.

  “But no, he has found that the tails of our cubs also do not come off. He was at the bridge and himself made a personal inspection. Or so I am informed.”

  Reeve felt suddenly sick.

  "How can I – " he began apologetically.

  Hrrestan grinned and Hrral held up his hand politely to interrupt Reeve.

  “He does not trouble, and our own young are curious that he has no tail. I believe the young of both races will be friendly together in the way of the young.”

  “Young Master Todd in trouble again?” boomed the captain, his eyes sparkling with amusement, for he couldn't have understood the interchange.

  Heartily embarrassed, Ken related Todd's breach of etiquette and his own remedy.

  “What I don't understand is how he could get out of that locked room,” Ken finished, puzzled.

  “Perhaps Pat let him out,” Dautrish suggested.

  The captain's chuckle started deep in his belly. The super regarded his captain with disgust. “That young man won't be kept within any bounds. It's a jolly good thing, mister,” and the pipe was waggled at Reeve, “that he has a whole planet in which to range. He'll need it, and you will too, if you get what I mean.”

  “Todd'll get what I mean,” replied Ken grimly, determined not to allow a six-year-old's precocity to stride roughshod over an entire colony.

  The supercargo's snort of derision spoke volumes for Ken's good intentions.

  “Is it permitted to ask whether they speak of your young one?” asked Hrrestan politely.

  “To my embarrassment, yes,” Reeve replied.

  “Speak of the devil,” the supercargo growled and two small figures stalked out of the shadows. One was an Hrruban cub, a full head taller than his Terran companion Reeve recognized him instantly as the taller of the two ball players he had met in the woods. The cub's tail was wrapped around the waist of young Todd Reeve.

  Ken sat down weakly as the two marched directly up to Hrrestan.

  "This one is sad, father, the Hrruban cub said, "because he has no tail and wishes mine. I have told him I cannot give him mine. He asked where I got it and I told him. So he asked me to take him to my father so you could give him a tail, too."

  The humor of the request evidently did not escape the cub but he made his recital solemnly.

  “Hrriss, my son, you have great kindness,” Hrrestan replied with equal solemnity. He put his arm around Hrriss. “But tell me, since you do not speak his language nor he yours, how did you understand his desire?”

  The cub looked surprised. “He is understandable,” he said finally with a shrug of his narrow shoulders.

  “I want a tail,” said Todd, suddenly vocal and, after a longing look at Hrrestan's appendage, he leaned trustingly against the elder's thigh.

  “Little one, we cannot always have what we want,” Hrrestan said, circling Todd's shoulders with his other arm.

  "Hrrestan said – " Ken started to translate.

  “I heard him,” Todd interrupted bluntly.

  “How can you? You don't know his language,” Ken demanded, his words tinged with anger.

  Todd turned his head to look at his father, his lips pursing with disgusted exasperation for adult obtuseness. “All you have to do is listen to him,” he explained reasonably.

  The captain guffawed so hard he choked on the smoke he had just inhaled. The supercargo pounded him on the shoulder blades until the captain was reduced to a weak, weeping rasp of a laugh.

  «All – you – have to – do is listen, the child says,» the captain finally managed to get out.

  «Hrriss,» Hrrestan said, releasing both boys and turning them toward the Common, «take Zodd (he
could not quite master the labial stop of the 'T') and play together, listening carefully to each other. That is the way to make friends – to listen.»

  The two moved off without a comment, Hrriss's tail tucked around Todd's waist.

  “Your youngest will gather much credit for you,” Hrrestan remarked, turning around to the adults.

  Reeve set his jaw against a swift flash of jealousy that Todd would so easily accept the native and disregard his own father.

  “Hrriss shows the wisdom of an adult,” he managed to say, politely turning the compliment.

  “If I were you, mister,” Kiachif said, having cleared his lungs and stopped wheezing, I'd let the catmen raise that young man of yours. He's a throwback in more'n those blue eyes of his. He needs room.

  “Are you suggesting I can't control my son?”

  The captain guffawed wheezingly and the supercargo gave a short bark of derisive laughter. At this moment, Pat, wild-eyed, came rushing up to Ken.

  «Oh, Ken, I've looked everywhere. Todd's broken out of his room. I mean, really broken out. That window – the whole frame was unscrewed.»

  Grabbing her hands to calm her, Ken reassured her.

  «He was just here, and he's in good – hands, Pat,» Ken said, feeling more and more antagonistic toward the subject of son Todd with each passing second.

  "You mean, we've got a tail on him,'' the captain exploded, roaring at his own witticism. "If you get what I mean," and he dissolved into another paroxysm of laughter.

  Ken half-turned, about to pounce on the captain, when the air whistle cut across the babel in the Common, and Phyllis Hu announced over the loudspeaker that the feast was now ready to be served.

  Under cover of the cheer of approval, Pat pulled Ken back to her, giving him a moment to get his anger and resentment under control.

  Chapter XII. RESCUE

  “DADDY, DADDY,” said a soft voice in his ear. Ken roused himself from the lovely depths of sleep to the urgent tug at his shoulder. “Daddy, please wake up,” cried Ilsa, an almost hysterical note of pleading in her voice.

  “Whassa matter, Ilsa?” he asked, blinking his eyes into focus.

  “Todd's got loose,” she said, her little face contorted with her concern. She was wringing her hands in an unconscious imitation of her mother.

  Ken groaned and struggled to a sitting position. Reaching out, he dragged the coverall from the foot of the bed and started to struggle into it.

  " 'S not your fault, Ilsa, 's not your fault," he reassured his daughter. "Get in with your mother."

  He slipped into his boots and, snatching up a jacket against the cool dawn air and a rifle against any carnivores who might not yet have made their kill, he lurched out of the cabin.

  The brisk morning air was pungent with many smells: the lingering aroma of last night's barbecue, the wood fire still glowing in the pit; the scent of fresh water mists rising from the river, the cinnamony flavor of the forest behind him warmed by Doona's orange sun. Reeve blinked the last of sleep from his eyes and surveyed the Common.

  Trestle tables dotted the green but the debris of the feast had been cleared away. The area had a forlorn look compared with his memory of the crowded jollity of last night. A few oddments of tableware could be seen in out-of-the-way places, shadow-hidden from the cleaning squad. For a non-alcoholic evening, it had been a very high-spirited one.

  Todd was nowhere in sight, in any direction. Reeve sneezed sharply as he trotted across the Common to the mess hall. Equipping himself with several rounds of ammunition and a pair of binoculars, he set out toward the bridge.

  Takes no mental strain to guess where that little bugger is headed, Reeve thought. And the Hrrubans got to bed a lot later than we did. No one will be glad to see that snot-nosed idiot at this hour.

  During the evening, Todd had found a length of rope somewhere. He had hacked at the end until it resembled the tuft of an Hrruban tail, and then attached it to his pants. It had dragged, a pathetic imitation, in the dirt behind him. When Reeve had looked for the child at midnight, he had found him, 'tail' in hand, and Hrriss's tail curled around his waist, the two fast asleep in each other's arms. It had been an unsettling sight for Reeve. For the first time, he saw his son's face unguarded, his brow relaxed from its habitual frown, his mouth in a gentle, unstubborn line, the long dark lashes outlined on the fair cheek. Todd looked the six-year-old he was, sweet, young and thoroughly lovable. A responding chord of paternal affection was touched in Reeve's heart and he felt the desire to love and protect this exasperating child. Cradling the limp warm body in his arms, tail and all, Reeve had carried Todd to his bed, kissing him as he laid the blankets snugly around him. Toddy, stirring in his sleep, had smiled with contentment.

  It wasn't paternalism that stirred Reeve now, nor any affection for the child who would pull such a stunt. Plain resentment boiled in Reeve for having to get up before he had to.

  Sure enough, in the dust on the other side of the Bridge, Reeve found the wiggling line of the rope tail, a wispy giveaway, aiming spang toward the ridge and the village.

  He sure keeps his eyes open, Reeve grunted, but would the child, in his single-minded march on the village, have the sense to look out for other dangers? A pang of fear stabbed at Reeve as he thought of what marks the bearlike mda claw would make in that tender body. Todd would have no defense against the mda's lightning attacks, nor any warning of its silent-footed approach. Reeve consoled himself with the thought that the mdas had not been seen in the lower valley since the bridge had been built. The constant traffic had driven the urfa, the mda's usual prey, away from this end of the valley. Maybe all the mdas had followed.

  But Doona had other traps, like the rroamal vine or the poisonous red sser which smelled deceptively sweet. Reptiles, too, had been catalogued, venomous spiders the size of dinner plates, and invertebrates, exuding oily substances which stung agonizingly.

  Anxiously, Reeve plunged up the slope, purposefully noisy in the hope that he might startle any stalking carnivore. He had to check his forward rush at the first dusty clearing, half a mile up the slope, for he no longer followed the straggly mark of the dragging tail. Cursing, Reeve retraced his steps through the grasses, fearful of seeing the signs of a struggle. He cried out with relief when he saw the indentation in the grass where a small creature had passed. For some reason, Todd had struck out in a westerly direction, paralleling the river. His trail led away from the high saddle of the ridge, to the woods that bordered the river.

  It made sense, Reeve admitted. The child would see the slope to the ridge as a real obstacle. He couldn't know that the ridge was a more direct route to the village. And he wouldn't know that those woods were far more dangerous. Reeve moved forward at a jog. Maybe he should have roused someone else to help him search, but how could he know the child would have such a headstart. What on earth drew the boy so powerfully to the Hrrubans?" Surely not just a tail? Such an instant affinity!

  Last night it had been amusing to see Todd's intent little face, absorbing Hrriss's voluble explanations of this and that. Todd, one hand always on Hrriss's tail, would nod seriously. Then the two would indulge in mild wrestling or another of the games all children seem born knowing. But, Christ, did the brat have to get up two hours before dawn to pick up where sleep had overtaken him the night before?

  Reeve forced himself to slow down as he approached the underbrush at the edge of the woods. It would never do for him to fall into one of the very obstacles he worried Todd might find. The child had walked up and down here, trying to get through. The opening Todd had found was not wide enough for Reeve. Carefully he examined both sides and saw no vines or thorny bushes. He pressed back the foliage with the rifle butt and stepped through. Then stopped. The ground, covered by the porous-tree needle mulch, retained no marks as did the dirt or grasses. Todd had come through at this point, but where had he gone from here?

  Think like a six-year-old, Reeve told himself. Yeah but Todd doesn't. Well, there's the line
of least resistance, Reeve decided, and made off in as straight a line toward the village as the intervening trees permitted.

  The terrain sloped down to the river, always visible through the trees. Now, would Todd try the bank? Reeve shook his head, anger for his son's truancy gaining ascendance over his fear for his safety. Well, I can see the river bank from this angle, he thought, and paced forward purposefully, eyes and ears alert.

  When I get my hands on that child! Reeve promised himself retribution. The river wound northward now and Ken had to change direction to follow it. Soon it would bend back and flow past the village. The forest animals and birds were waking as the sun penetrated the gloom of the forest. It made visibility better and the noises were comforting. If carnivores had been abroad, there would have been an ominous silence. A sudden clatter of outraged birds attracted Ken's attention. The loud squawking was on his right, nearer the river. He detoured and located the disturbance high in a tree. A silent shadow on the trunk moved with dappled grace. Reeve decided a tree snake had attacked a nest. The chirping subsided and the noise of the river, fast over the rapids above the falls, came to his ears. Also a faint coughing sound, faint but unmistakable.