“Master Ngaiu of Administration,” said Tokui, nodding in his direction.
“I agree with Master Esken,” he said. “What’s wrong with them staying in the Telepath Guild? We can’t have them working outside their proper Guild. There’s no need for them to change. I say no.”
“Master Rhayfso of the Warrior Guild.”
“We can’t accommodate them properly at our Guild. It wasn’t so bad when it was only one pair, but with three of them now …”
“Four,” interrupted Ghezu.
“Four of them now, we haven’t the shielded facilities for them when they stay with us. We’ve got enough problems trying to cope with the extra numbers caused by the Human Telepaths without Leskas as it is. At least they don’t need dampers in their rooms. I vote yes. The Brotherhood are the specialists, let them train them.”
“Don’t you realize what you’re doing?” demanded Esken, barely controlled fury in his voice as he got to his feet again. “If you do that, you’re handing the Brotherhood guild status on a plate!”
Rhayfso rose again. “So what? They deserve it for doing the dirty jobs for all of us, yourself included, Esken! Who do you call in to defend yourselves if there’s a real threat? The Brotherhood. Who tests all the new military equipment, risking their lives in craft that could easily blow up in their faces? The Brotherhood. If you ask me, it’s long overdue, and it would give us nineteen guilds instead of eighteen, which would mean fewer drawn votes! You don’t want it because it’ll water down your power, Esken! Telepaths that don’t belong to your Guild couldn’t be controlled by you, could they? Don’t be greedy. You’ve got all the new Human members, though they’re sub-guilded to me, too, and I’m not complaining. Let them change guilds and give the Brotherhood full guild status now, I say.” He sat down amid an outbreak of raised voices.
“That’s put the cat among the pigeons,” said Carrie. “Why did he suggest the guild status now?”
“Someone had to once Esken mentioned it,” said Kusac quietly.
“Silence!” roared Sister Tokui, hitting the bell so hard it almost fell over. It had the desired effect as all talking ceased.
“Master Rhayfso has suggested that the Brotherhood be granted full guild status,” she continued in a normal voice. “He and Master Esken are both correct in saying that if the Mixed Leskas are granted permission to change guild, then the Brotherhood will have the right to request that status. In fact, their request is on the agenda if the petitioners win their right to become members of the Brotherhood. That being the case, I have no option but to link the two matters together. Recorder, let the records show my decision.”
She stopped and surveyed all the delegates carefully. “I will not have the sanctity of the Council hall broken by such an outburst again. Offenders will be ejected and their vote will be forfeit. I will now call for the Guild Masters only to vote on the petitioners’ request to change guilds. Those for, please stand.”
Vartra, let the vote go our way, thought Kusac, his hand searching for Carrie’s as he began to count the people standing.
“Clerks, your total please,” she said.
“Ten for, Moderator.”
“Those against.”
There was a short silence. “Six, Moderator.”
“Those abstaining?”
“Two, Moderator.”
“Thank you, Masters. Recorder, let the records show that the petitioners have been granted the right to become members of the Brotherhood, and that the Brotherhood has accepted them into their ranks.”
“Gods,” breathed Vanna, leaning forward to touch Kusac. “I didn’t think we’d do it when Esken started ranting about guild status.”
“That worked for us,” said Kusac quietly. “A lot of the other Masters dislike the way he runs his Guild. Anything that puts him at a disadvantage suits them.”
“Liegen Aldatan, your group may remain for the next matter,” said the Moderator, looking down at them. “Perhaps you would take seats at the end of the clerks’ bench behind you?”
“Certainly, Moderator,” said Kusac, getting up and bowing courteously to her. “Come on,” he whispered, ushering the others over to the bench where the clerks were hurriedly moving along to make room.
“Leader Ghezu and Father Lijou, would you come forward to make your request, please?”
Lijou and Ghezu rose and took their places at the Speaker’s table.
“Moderator,” said Ghezu. “We formally request that the Brotherhood of Vartra be granted full guild status on the grounds that we possess a skill no other existing guild has.”
“Name the skill, if you please.”
“Among our members are Telepaths who can fight. No other guild possess members with these Talents.”
“Who seconds your request?”
High Commander Chuz rose. “I do, Moderator.”
“Since we have just dealt with the matter that gave you these members, that is not in dispute. We’ve also heard the arguments from Master Rhayfso and Master Esken for and against the Brotherhood being granted full guild status. That, however, is not the issue. What you delegates are being asked to vote upon is, does the Brotherhood have a skill that entitles them to full guild status rather than remaining a sub-guild of the Warrior and Telepath Guilds? Since this is likely to be a contentious vote, I will exercise my right to throw the vote open to all Guild Masters and Sub-Guild Leaders without any further discussion. Clerks, take your places as counters, please.”
Kusac watched the clerks scurry from their seats to places throughout the hall.
“Those in favor of granting the Brotherhood full guild status, please stand.”
I can’t see to count them, Father! Kusac sent.
From where I stand, it looks like we may have won, sent Konis. You presented your petition well, Kusac. You’ll make a politician yet!
Not funny! You know how I hate politics.
“We have the count, Moderator,” said the chief clerk. “There are twenty-eight for the motion.”
We’ve won, Father!
I know, Vartra be praised!
“Those against, please.”
The count was a little quicker this time. “Eleven against, Moderator.”
There was a flurry of movement as Esken got to his feet and stormed out of the Council hall, followed by Khafsa. Once again Sorli trailed after them.
“Recorder, strike two votes from the Against total. Guild Master Esken and Leader Khafsa have forfeited their vote by leaving,” said Tokui, her voice cold. “As an aide, Senior Tutor Sorli has no vote.”
“Yes, Moderator. The total Against is now nine.”
“Abstentions please.”
“Six, Moderator.”
“Very well. Recorder, let the records show that today the Brotherhood of Vartra has been welcomed to the rank of Guild. Leader Ghezu, and Father Lijou, you both now have the title of Guild Master. Congratulations.”
“My thanks, Moderator,” said Ghezu. He opened his mouth to speak again but found himself unable to utter a word. He cast a look that was both frantic and angry at Lijou before leaving the table.
“Thank you, Moderator,” said Lijou, bowing low to her before moving away to his seat.
Be silent, Ghezu, lest you lose all we have gained today, came the stern thought from Konis.
Ghezu looked up at the Clan Lord, realization dawning on his face.
Yes, it’s me you’re dealing with, Ghezu. You’ve won Guild status; be content with that. Your Guild needs you both.
“Liegen Aldatan,” said Sister Tokui, “your presence will no longer be needed. Thank you for remaining.”
“Moderator,” Kusac bowed, getting to his feet and leading the way to the door.
Once outside, Garras and Kaid were surrounded by them all speaking at once.
“One at a time, in the God’s name!” exclaimed Garras.
“We won,” said Vanna simply. “We got permission to change guilds and the Brotherhood is now a full Guild.”
<
br /> “We won?”
“Twenty-eight to nine, with six abstentions,” said Kusac.
“I thought we’d lost when Esken and Khafsa came barreling out.”
“No. They left because they lost,” said Kusac.
“And the Moderator disallowed their votes for leaving,” said Vanna delightedly, grabbing Garras by the arm.
“We’re almost free,” said Carrie quietly. “Almost there, Kusac.”
“Yes,” he said, putting his arm around her as they walked toward the exit. “We’re almost there now.”
Chapter 9
The cargo pod of the Summer Bounty touched down as planned on landing bay three of Jalna’s one and only spaceport. While the formalities were dealt with, Jo, Kris, Davies, and Vyaka pored over the aerial photographs they’d taken on their way in.
“It looks like it’s winter out there,” said Davies. “Do any of the Sumaan know what sort of weather we can expect?”
“The port is near Jalna’s equator, so it could be similar to Valsgarth’s,” said Kris. “I only know the summer season, I’m afraid, and that varies between Mediterranean and tropical, depending which part of the continent you’re on.”
“Not necessarily. Climate also depends on the prevailing winds and ocean currents,” said Vyaka. “Around the Valsgarth region, in the winter, winds from the pole cut down across the southwest bringing heavy snow and freezing temperatures. However, Captain Sharaaza says it’s considered spring here, so the weather shouldn’t pose too many problems.”
Vyaka looked up from the map at the three humans. “There’s still snow on the hilltops. Once you get up there, you’ll need to guard against frostbite and hypothermia. That’s why we believe the Valtegan craft hasn’t been touched yet. It’s been cut off by the severe winter.”
“Surely they have aircars or something,” said Davies.
Vyaka’s ears flicked a negative. “This is an interdicted world,” she said. “According to the Sumaan and the Chemerians, none of the species that trade there want the Jalnians to gain any technology that will lead to them getting off the surface of their world.”
“How far is it from here to the crash site?” asked Jo.
“About sixty miles to the mountains, then you have to climb up to it,” she said, pointing to the mark on the map that was the Valtegan ship. “Chances are that even if an intrepid local or two have reached and looted it, the type of data we’re after is so specific it should still be there.”
“What about this object they left behind? Where’s it likely to be?” asked Davies.
“In the same area,” said Jo, stepping back from the table and the map. “Kris, you handle the map reading. Both of you run a final check on your kit to make sure you’ve got everything and are carrying no modern weapons or other items.” She looked sternly at Davies. “That means no lightweight portable stove! Have you both got your Jalnian coins?”
The two men nodded, then as Kris folded up the map, Davies went off to collect his kit.
“Portable stove?” asked Vyaka, raising an eye ridge.
“Just a private joke,” said Jo, moving over to the chair where her small bundle of possessions lay. They were taking nothing with them that couldn’t be easily carried on their backs or in pockets or belt pouches.
The status of women on Jalna wasn’t known, therefore it was decided Jo was to pose as Kris’ wife—with his long hair, he looked more like a native Jalnian than Davies—and if her role was contested, better that he should take the attention away from the Keissian.
A buzzer sounded in the common room.
“Time to go,” said Vyaka, getting up. “Remember, try to link in to one of the Jalnians without being seen if you can. Then we’ll know everything about them that we need.”
*
All went as planned. The mind Vyaka and Kris chose was able to provide a smattering of the spaceport patois used between the space-going species and their land-bound hosts. No one remarked on their presence as one by one, they joined in with the unloading team.
The goods, packed in regularly shaped container units, were unloaded onto waiting animal-drawn carts and taken to the warehouses nearby. As night fell, the perimeter lights came on. In this world of draft animals and carts, their blinding whiteness was an anachronism. Around them loomed the immense shadows of other cargo ships, entry ports glowing golden in contrast to the floodlights.
The air was no longer chilly, it had become bitterly cold. It was with relief that they helped load the last of the crates onto the cart and joined the rest of their work force at the base of the ramp, waiting for their foreman to collect the money due them.
Davies stamped his feet, flapping his arms round his body to keep himself warm. “If it’s this cold here …” he said to Jo, leaving the sentence unfinished.
She nudged him in the ribs as the foreman came down the ramp, pausing before the end to speak to them all.
“We’ll divide out the money in the tavern,” he said.
There was some disgruntled muttering, then the group of twenty-odd individuals turned and began to make their way to the gate across the other side of the field.
“What’s that?” whispered Davies, nodding in the direction of a tall keep to the right of the gateway.
“The Port Lord’s residence,” said Kris equally quietly. “He owns the spaceport and the surrounding land.”
Jo trudged on in silence beside Kris, only too aware that she was the only female present. She felt another presence and looked up, eyes meeting their foreman’s. As he fell in step between her and Kris, she forced herself to remain calm. They couldn’t have been discovered this soon!
“I don’t remember you arriving with this group,” he said to Kris.
“No. We were working on the U’Churian vessel alongside but we finished early,” said Kris.
The foreman kept looking at him. “She got you into debt?” he asked, jerking his head toward Jo. “I like the idea of making her work for what she owes. Better than beating her.”
“Ah. Yes,” said Kris. “That’s why we joined your team.”
“You won’t get full pay,” he warned. “Only from the time you started.”
Kris shook his head and shrugged. “Sorry. Don’t know when that was.”
“I do,” he said, looking away. “You’ll get paid at the tavern, after everyone else.” With that, he speeded up and returned to the head of the little group.
“What was that all about?” asked Davies.
“I think he knows something’s up,” said Jo.
“He does,” said Kris. “He’s wondering why we’re going to the bother of breaking out of the port when most people want to get in and leave Jalna. That’s why he wants to see us.”
“Well, at least we know in advance,” said Davies.
They were nearing the perimeter fences now. Between them they could see the spacers’ town where the traders conducted their business while on Jalna. The smells of cooking from the market stalls wafted their way through the fence, making their stomachs growl with hunger.
“I’m not surprised we’re all hungry,” said Kris with a grin. “We’ve just done several hours of hard labor! Let’s hope the food in the shantytown is as good.”
“I doubt it,” muttered Davies. “This lot don’t exactly look well fed. I wish we weren’t excluded from the spacers’ town!”
Then they were at the gate and queuing up for the guard to pass them through.
The guard was the picture of bored negligence. As they passed through, ID cards held up for him to see, he barely glanced at them. None of them were aliens, beyond that, he didn’t care. How many Jalnians given entry to the port would want to escape back to the world outside?
“How does he know we’re not smuggling off-world goods out?” Davies muttered.
Kris pointed to the wolflike beast sitting inside the sentry box. “He knows.”
“Will he pick us up?” asked Jo.
“Unlikely. We’ve been mixing with t
he Jalnians for several hours now.”
“Let’s hope we smell enough like them,” she muttered as their turn came.
The beast rose to its feet and began to growl, a deep, rumbling sound. In front of him, the guard came to life, swinging his rifle round into a ready position.
The foreman was suddenly at his side, putting a hand on his arm. “I’ll vouch for them,” he said. “A container of dried herbs split while they were carrying it, that’s all. They can’t get rid of the scent till they reach the tavern.”
The guard hesitated, glancing from man to beast. The beast moved forward, sniffing at the three humans, the stiff spines round his neck bristling ominously. Teeth bared, it snarled.
“Papers!” demanded the guard.
They handed them over, hearts pounding as the creature snuffled around their feet.
“Back, Dagla!”
Snarling resentfully, the animal retreated.
After studying each pass carefully and checking it against the owner, the guard thrust them back at Kris. “Get out of here, and watch how you load the containers in future,” he said.
As they started to move, the beast growled again, taking a pace forward warningly.
“I said get back!” yelled the guard, turning round and kicking at it with his booted foot.
“Hurry!” said the foreman, grabbing hold of Jo and hauling her through the gateway.
Kris and Davies followed at a run. They were through the other side of the double-fenced enclosure, and on the edges of the shantytown.
“Doesn’t do to hang around by that damned beast. Gets its teeth into you and it don’t let go. You’re safe now. Tavern’s that way,” he said, pointing down the muddy walkway between the rows of rickety buildings. “Second last on the right. I’ll see you there shortly.” With that, he was gone.
Davies and Kris turned to Jo. She shrugged and looked down the street.
“We do what the man says. If we do anything else, we’ll call more attention to ourselves.”
Fire Margins Page 32
