“Here? In this heat?”
“This is winter,” Hughes said scornfully. “You want to experience heat, come back a few months from now, after the rainy season. Right now it’s not too bad. Besides, I have to hang around and monitor the chamber.”
“Glad I don’t have to. I don’t tolerate this much sun well. Must be the lack of pigment,” Dan said with a grin. That was an old joke among light- and dark-skinned Terrans. Hughes laughed, relishing his superiority on that score.
“Then you’d better head for camp,” he suggested. “Humans will be folding very soon, and so will Armilly. In a while even the Vahnajes and Whimeds will head for the complex. No stamina!”
“Me neither,” Dan said, moving away.
There was no shade whatsoever on the cross-valley trail to the dome dig. Dan paced himself, putting one foot in front of the other methodically, his tongue thick with thirst. The outlines of the insta-cells wavered in the heat. So did the figures of the N’lac diggers and the scientists.
He stopped at the hill’s portable canteen and drew a large mug. The distilled water was one of the most refreshing things he’d ever known. Recuperating a bit, Dan knelt in what little shadow there was near the canteen and watched the excavating.
Chen, oblivious to the temperature, was leaning over the cleared face of the ramp trench. Praedar stood beside his former teacher, pointing out a detail on the wall. They chattered in an odd mix of Terran and Whimed.
Work was winding down fast. Xenoarchs took increasingly frequent rests. The N’lacs sat on their haunches, panting, their webbed fingers in their mouths. Dr. Getz picked tiredly over the rubble pile. Sheila swore at a colleague who stepped on her foot. Kat pushed hair off her sun-reddened forehead. Armilly scratched at his fur and stared bleary-eyed at his monitors.
Then Sheila shouted, “Hey, Kroo-ger! He did it!”
All work halted. Everyone turned toward an approaching behemoth. The vacuum dredge. Ruieb and his assistant sat at the controls. Slash-mouthed smiles creased their gray faces.
Dan frowned. Had the Vahnajes taken his advice after all? That was the only explanation. There was no way they could make that temperamental machine operate right unless they’d aligned it the way he’d told them. Amid the team’s congratulatory cheers, he heard a subtle shift in the rig’s power, a growl replacing the purr.
“Watch out!” he roared, gesturing frantically.
Too late.
The dredge bucked, lurching forward, rapidly gaining speed. Fumes boiled from under its cowling. Ruieb fought the controls; then he and the other Vahnaj were bounced out of the cab. They fell safely behind the charging monster.
Others weren’t as lucky. They were directly in the machine’s path. They screamed, tripping, running, trying to escape.
Full throttle, no one at its helm, the dredge thundered toward the dome—and toward the hapless dig crew.
CHAPTER FIVE
Praedar’s Planet
Memories of past disasters flogged Dan—of a buddy crushed under a lumber hauler and of frontier shanties buried by a runaway transport, with broken bodies, blood, injury, death.
He gauged his stride, gulping for breath, and lunged. The fender was slick with dust. He fought for a handhold, pulling himself upward painfully. Lungs and muscles protested as he crawled across the cowling and into the empty cab.
Time ticked in milliseconds. The dredge’s howls drowned out the shrieks of its potential victims.
Dan operated on reflex, years of training taking over as his hands flew across the controls. Shunt transmission, in sequence. One. Two. Three. Four.
Die, damn you. Quit!
Lights stuttered on the panels. The giant rig hiccuped and then squealed like a mortally wounded beast. The sound quavered and began to fade.
Inertia carried the dredge on. But with its power off, friction created more and more drag. That gave the offworlders and N’lacs a chance to dodge.
Dan clung to a stanchion, riding out the last few meters helplessly. He was only a passenger now, bracing for impact. Spewing smoke, the dredge plowed its nose deep into the refuse pile. Its treaders gave a final whine as it stopped.
There was a gritty pattering noise around Dan—sand, thrown up by the rig, settling back onto metal surfaces. Plating snapped, cooling.
Dan rested his head on his crossed arms and commanded his pulse to return to normal. Eventually his heart quit trying to pound its way through his rib cage. He slid out of the cab and off the fender and sat on the ground. He made no attempt to stand; not yet. He wasn’t sure his legs would support him.
Some scientists were cursing. Others retched nervously. Many simply sat, repairing their shattered energies, as Dan was doing. Whimeds flexed their fingers instinctively, felinoid genes making them “claw air” to release tension. Armilly curled into a furry ball. Vahnajes fussed with their sideburns and chittered. The N’lacs wailed, a shivery ululation that raised gooseflesh. Praedar, Sheila, and Kat led others in checking for injuries. Fortunately, the worst damage appeared to be bruises, scrapes, and rattled nerves.
Sheila rushed past the dredge, fire in her blue eyes. She homed in on Ruieb-An and his assistant. The two Vahnajes were brushing off their jumpers, taking great pains in a typical lutrinoid pose—focusing on trivialities to avoid confronting an upsetting uproar.
The uproar had come to them in the person of a furious blond Terran. Sheila shook her fists under Ruieb’s small nose. “You gray-faced fornicating fool! You cretin! You told us that thing would be okay! That you’d have it working perfectly! Kroo-ger! What an egregious, mother-hating liar! You and your whole damned species! You damned near wrecked the dome...”
“He damned near wrecked us,” Kat put in. Her voice was hoarse from shouting warnings earlier.
“Most regrettable.” Praedar spoke calmly, putting on a good learless-leader performance. His self-control was awesome. Only his spiky crest revealed his turmoil.
Sheila continued to berate Ruieb, hammering him with a lexicon of startling expletives. Abruptly Ruieb turned his back on her and walked toward the complex. Every Vahnaj on the team followed him. While the rest went on assessing damages, the Vahnajes emerged from the insta-cells carrying travel gear. They loaded the baggage in a truck and headed toward the mesa. Sheila pursued the vehicle halfway up the road until she realized her chase was futile.
Kat stared at the departing Vahnajes. “Oh, marvelous! They’ll sit out there and sulk for days. Meanwhile, nothing gets done on Ruieb’s translation data.”
“This was to be anticipated,” Praedar said. His crest was softer now. “Association with other species is difficult even for progressive Vahnaj scientists. Ruieb-An has endured much criticism from his colleagues because he chose to join this expedition.” The unspoken implications sobered Praedar’s listeners. Like Dan, the other Terrans were very aware of an age-old enmity dividing Whimeds and Vahnajes. It was precedent-breaking for Ruieb-An to be here, working with a team led by a felinoid. Praedar sighed, sounding resigned. “Within his institutional community, his faction are rebels. Such are always quick to react to loss of face. Sheila pointed out his error. McKelvey corrected his mistake. Ruieb cannot tolerate such disgrace in our presence. We must wait while he retreats and purifies his shame. Or until we apologize.”
“Apologize, hell!” someone said. “Why should we cater to his tender feelings? He blew it!”
“Bunch of prima donnas,” Getz growled. “You never should have allowed those fish-faces into this project, luxury.” The pudgy Terran fussed over the rabble heap. “That machine scattered my specimens. A whole morning’s work wasted!”
“What about our work?” another crew member griped. “Look at that! Pushed half the dirt back into the ramp. We’ll have to shovel the whole thing clear again!”
Then a new crisis struck. The N’lacs stopped wailing and began trotting toward their village. Dan assumed they were taking their midday break, but the scientists’ reactions showed him that wasn’t the cas
e.
Kat hurried after the N’lacs, pleading “Hooni, hooni. You fellow not afraid, huh-huh? Machine not hurt. Machine not belong to Evil Old Ones. ’Member? Machine come from sky, like Kelfee’s flyer. Hooni! No go!”
Chuss and other young N’lac males grinned and nodded, agreeing. The older males, though, were all for getting while they could. Their shaman, Sleeg, headed the exodus.
Kat finally gave up, standing arms akimbo and yelling at the disappearing marchers “You are a pup, Sleeg! A fool! Machine is not demon. No demons here. Come back!”
“Save your breath,” Getz advised. “Sleeg’s showing us he can still make the N’lacs obey whenever he says ‘boo!’ ”
Sheila was trudging up the path to the dome. She eyed the N’lacs and said, “So they’re bailing out, too, huh? Kroo-ger! What a stupid mess!”
Kat wiped her smudged face with her forearm. “Don’t worry. Rosie and I will powwow with them later and get them back on the job. Just give us some time . ..”
“Yes,” Praedar said. “That is best. Let them recover, as we must.” Then he swung around and stared intently at Dan. “I have not thanked you, McKelvey. You saved our work and our lives.” Dan levered himself to his feet and leaned against the fender. “Glad I was here to help.”
The felinoid’s starry eyes glittered. “Irast, you are ay tan.” Aytan. Ethical. The highest possible praise, coming from a Whimed. The compliment made Dan blush. “Thanks. It’s too bad this happened. It shouldn’t have. I met Ruieb out in the valley and told him he was installing that linkage wrong. I guess be didn’t believe me.”
While the crew picked up broken tools and tended minor wounds, they added a storm of complaints about the Vahnaj. Apparently this wasn’t the first time the lutrinoid xenoarchaeolo-gists had refused to take instruction from a non-Vahnaj and caused problems.
Praedar interrupted the gripe session, asking Dan “Can you repair the dredge?”
The boss. Cutting to the heart of the situation.
Dan weighed options. How much did he dare guarantee? And liow far could he push his bargaining power? “Maybe. That depends on what Ruieb did wrong and on what the emergency shutdown did to the rig.”
Sheila groaned. “You mean he may have wrecked the replacement parts? Damn! We’ll have to wait another year to get more. And we’re already way behind schedule excavating the dome because that damned dredge was out of action...”
Kat broke through her friend’s lament. “All right. Let’s assume the damage isn’t fatal. How about it, McKelvey?”
Terrans and aliens regarded the pilot anxiously. He shrugged and said, “If I fix it, am I on the roster?”
Guffawing, Sheila cried, “Blackmailer!”
Praedar, too, seemed amused. “Aaaa! Kat explained your difficulties to me. The matter of the cargo. Unfortunate that our disagreements with the Saunders hurt you, as well.”
“More than a coincidence, if you want my opinion,” Dr. Getz said.
Chen muttered, “Do we have a choice? You’ll tell us your opinion anyway...”
Getz ignored that. His manner dripped suspicion. “Funny. McKelvey gets here yesterday. And this business happens today.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kat snapped. “Ruieb’s the one who fouled the repairs. Why pick on Dan?”
“Because he’s a Saunder-McKelvey.” The effigy expert’s pointed reminder triggered an uneasy murmur. Scientists who’d expressed gratitude to Dan earlier now looked wary. Getz said, “He’s Feo’s kinsman...”
“Yeah, sure. Fine,” Dan countered. “Have it your way. Listen. I don’t have a damned thing to do with Feo Saunder beyond having the same ancestors. But if you think I’m in a conspiracy with him, repair your own dredge.”
He turned to go, but Praedar blocked the way. The Whimed forced him to meet that alien, hypnotic gaze. “Dr. Getz’s statements are not a consensus, Dan McKelvey. / do not question your honesty in this matter. Kaatje does not accuse you, nor does Sheila, nor many others.” Praedar smiled and said, “I will offer a... a deal. Repair the dredge, and I will amend your visitor’s pass. There is space on our license list for... a.. . aaaa!... for a maintenance specialist.” Dr. Chen slapped his knee and cackled.
Dan imagined Praedar juggling reports. A committee on a distant world wouldn’t know a maintenance specialist from a skyhook inspector. And what the stay-at-homes didn’t know couldn’t hurt Praedar’s right to dig on T-W 593. Smart! He was tempted to demand some extra perks, but it was better not to push his luck. Dan said, “I’ll do my best. I can’t make any promises until I check the rig.”
“Accepted.” The Whimed held out a hand. That was a Terran form of contract, not a felinoid one. Most Whimeds disliked touching other species. Praedar’s grip, though, was solid. Dan was willing to bet the big alien could bow and bob his way through a convoluted Vahnaj conversation, too, and hoot and hop with Armilly if necessary. He was definitely something special.
“How soon can you start repairs?” Kat asked. “Not that we want to push you, but we have a very keen interest in getting that dredge operational.”
Dan investigated the machine and found that Ruieb had left its tool kit out where the dredge had been parked. Yvica offered to fetch it, since she was less bothered by the heat than a Terran would be. Dan helped the scientists finish tidying the dome excavation—covering the delicate paintings, stacking hand tools and carts. One by one, humans wilted and fled for the complex. One student complained, “It’s not fair. When I was an undergrad, they told me this was a cerebral profession. Nobody said anything about frying or collecting bleeding blisters ...”
“Welcome to the real universe,” Sheila taunted.
When Yvica returned, Dan took the kit and propped open the dredge’s cowling and used it as a sunshield. He wrestled the misaligned linkage from its niche and toted it and the kit to the insta-cell cluster. By then nearly the entire crew was bottled up in its clime-controlled interior. Sheila showed Dan the access to the vehicle workshops. He scrounged for test gear and began tinkering.
For a while, he had an audience. Scientists rubbernecked and nagged him with questions. He dumped a blizzard of tech-mech jargon on them. It was an amusing reversal of roles. This time they were the ones who didn’t understand the in-group terms. Annoyed, they got the message and finally left him alone.
He needed that solitude. Linkage repairs were a bitch. A mistake could wreck an element. He worked until his eyes complained, took a break for a snack and a short nap, and continued the job. Another short break, and back to repairs.
Time blurred. He was vaguely aware the afternoon had slipped by. It was twilight before he was done.
As he carried the linkage to the dome dig a darkening blue-gold sky glowed overhead. A few stars were escorting T-W 593’s tiny moons, climbing lazily above the valley. Solar reserve lamps winked on, illuminating key areas. Across the way, fires flickered in the N’lacs’ village.
The crew had resumed work at the ramp, shoveling dirt and hauling it to a new refuse heap. When Dan climbed onto the dredge’s fender, they stopped and eyed him apprehensively. He assured them, “Nothing to get excited about yet. I’m only reinstalling the unit. I’ll let you know before I fire up.”
“It will function?”
The question came almost in Dan’s ear. Praedar stood beside the dredge, looking hopeful.
“Maybe. I gave it my damnedest.” Dan squirmed under the cowling and fitted the linkage in place, setting adherer locks. Shoving the tool kit ahead of him, he wriggled out of the cramped spot, shut the cowling, and hunkered on the fender. “The unit’s kinda bent. I’ve operated rigs in worse shape, but it’s always a gamble. Ready to give her a try?”
“Her? Aaa! The machine. Yes!” Praedar’s colleagues moved out of the way, just in case. He got up on the fender and leaned in the cab door as Dan settled himself at the controls.
“Systems green,” the pilot announced. He felt a subliminal tingle. Lights glowed across the board. Anomaly frames stayed dark. He touched
the engage circuit and it tied in without a hitch. “All go. You’re in business.”
“Aaaa!” That happy Whimed stammer hinted at Praedar’s hunter ancestors pouncing on prey. “Excavate!” Dan cued the intake hoses. Flexible snakes extruded from the forward vents. The scientists seized the guide rings and aimed at the pile of dirt the dredge had shoved back into the dig at noon. “Begin small,” Praedar said.
“And with extreme gentle pressure? So as to pamper Dr. Getz’s specimens?” Dan adjusted the feed levels.
Silent laughter shook Praedar. “Yes. Gentle. You understand well. Excellent.” He jumped off the rig and hurried toward his team, taking his place on the work line. They shouted in triumph as suction removed earth and pebbles to the dredge’s tanks. Dr. Getz pointed to a place beyond the original rubble pile, and Dan tapped the control to pay out the exit hoses. Getz’s students steered them to the new dump site. As debris poured from the outlets, night breeze coated Getz’s people with dust, making them sneeze. They were too busy—finding effigies—to care.
Dan stayed in the cab for a time, monitoring circuits. Jerry -rigs had a bad habit of falling apart unexpectedly. But this one held. Eventually he felt it was safe to put systems on auto. He sat on the fender and watched the scientists. Praedar let the dredge run for nearly an hour before he signaled a stop. Unlike the previous situation, this was a controlled cut. No stress on the newly repaired linkage was indicated. In sequence, panels went on standby. “That it for tonight?” Dan asked.
“And how!” Sheila said. “Plenty! It’ll take us days to record all of this!”
The Whimeds stowed hoses in the ports. Getz and his students gathered their treasures and trooped to the complex. Other scientists moved portable lamps into position, shining them directly on the now-exposed ramp. Several took the time to thank Dan for his help. He nodded and waited by the dredge, uncertain whether he was supposed to scram now that his job was done, or if he’d be in the way if he hung around Praedar cocked his crested head. His eyes were iridescent jewels. “Do you wish to see what it is you have helped us uncover?”
Juanita Coulson - Children of the Stars 04 Page 7
