The guards exchanged a few words, and then one of them detached to commence another slow amble along the familiar line. Somehow, just from the way he moved, Erskine could tell he was Terran. Erskine touched a button on his compad twice. Three answering flashes on the "channel" light told him the two Kronians waiting in that direction were ready. He signaled to Dru, who raised a hand in response, and Ida, who touched her nose. Erskine watched until the guard was almost at the point he had marked, then made a "go" motion in the air with his hand.
Ida emitted a cry and tumbled from the platform to a plank forming part of a walkway from a ladder a few feet below. The guard by the crane turned toward the sound, and simultaneously Erskine and Dru emerged from cover. It was only a matter of a few yards; a quick, silent rush was all it needed. . . .
But something—either Ida's fall wasn't convincing enough, or maybe the way her gaze was directed—made the guard look back. It was like one of those moments when a person is about to have a car accident and can see everything happening in slow motion, but finds themselves powerless to intervene; or a dream where running seems to be through jello and doesn't consume any distance. The guard's gun was coming up, and Erskine was still too far away. The plank walkway should have enabled Ida to arrive quickly too, but she had barely picked herself up. Seeing the situation, she hurled a wrench in desperation but it clanged harmlessly off part of the crane base as the guard fired. Erskine found himself reeling, folding out of control like a boxer whose legs have gone, then his head thudded into the ground as he fell heavily and drunkenly. He knew he had been hit in the stomach, but for the moment he felt nothing and was only aware in a detached kind of way of Dru staggering backward as the guard fired again. Another shot sounded in the direction the patrolling guard had gone. Erskine rolled over to look along the rear of the stores building and saw one of the Kronians kneeling, clutching his chest, the other standing a yard or two back with his hands raised, the guard covering him. Running footsteps were already approaching. The voice of the guard who was closer came, directed at Ida. "Drop everything you are carrying. Now come down from there, very slowly."
Erskine let his head fall back in the mud. Yes, the whole thing was over. And well before the afternoon.
* * *
" . . . as soon as Shayle figures something out," Keene told Sariena. "The idea is to get access to a channel up to the Varuna. Then, hopefully, we'll find a way from there."
Sariena went quiet, thinking over what he had said. "Valcroix and those others with him aren't going to get here in the Eskimo," she replied finally. "Which means they'll have to transfer to something faster."
"Another reason for taking over the Aztec," Keene said.
Sariena looked uncertain. "So what does it do? Coast while the Eskimo catches up? Or would it be quicker if they went back to meet it?"
"I'm not sure. You're the orbital specialist."
"And you're the propulsion engineer."
They were both tired. Keene showed his hands. "Either way, the sooner for them, the better. So we need to do something fast. The more I think about it, the more it seems it has to be too late already."
Sariena smiled thinly. "That doesn't sound like you, Lan. But you'll try anyway, right?"
"Damn right."
After another pause, Sariena added, "Although, if it's true, it means that Aztec won't be getting here so soon. So Zeigler can't be counting on it for reinforcements anytime soon. Why did he make his move when he did? It means he has to hold out that much longer. Why wouldn't he have waited?" She raised her eyebrows. Keene could only shake his head. "Could he be expecting to strengthen himself in some other way?" Sariena asked.
"What other way is there?"
"Maybe there are more Pragmatists here than have shown themselves yet."
That was a thought. "Maybe . . . which could make loose talk very dangerous," he mused.
"That was my point."
The door from the lab area burst open to admit Charlie Hu with bustle and haste, which was unusual. Voices were babbling somewhere behind him. "There's been some shooting!" he said. "Behind the stores."
"Anybody hurt?" Sariena asked as they followed him back out.
"I don't know yet."
"It was only a matter of time," Keene muttered.
They came out of the building behind a gaggle of figures who had stopped in the face of several guards brandishing guns. "Back inside," one was yelling. "Everybody back inside."
"What's happened?" Charlie Hu asked one of the construction people.
"Some guys got shot trying to rush the guards."
"Oh no. Anyone killed?"
"We're not sure."
"I saw Ida being led away," a Kronian girl said. "She looked as if she was all right, though."
"Not Ida," Sariena groaned. They had been friends on the Surya.
Keene was shaking his head. "Never mind how it works in movies. You don't go for guys who have guns and nervous fingers. It's not the way."
One of the guards looked up from talking into a compad. "Is Maria Sanchez, the medic, here? She's needed."
"I think she's back in the dorms somewhere," somebody answered. The guard relayed the information.
"Everybody, back inside," the one who had spoken before ordered again.
* * *
Kurt Zeigler returned from the lower level of the OpCom dome to the office on the floor above where he had installed himself. Kelm, who had left an occupying force aboard the Surya and come back down to Serengeti during the night, accompanied him. The Kronian woman and one of the two Kronian men were unharmed. The other Kronian was shot in the legs and would recover, as would the former Terran who had been wounded in the stomach. The second ex-Terran, shot twice in the chest, was in serious condition. "I want a portable cabin set up behind OpCom as a secure medical facility and detention building, another for guard quarters, and the perimeter extended around them," Zeigler said. "Also, we need elevated watchtowers. Give me a plan by eighteen hundred tonight for a minimum number and recommended sites. Fast and basic. We can start work on them under arc lamps tonight. Also, put out a general order, effective immediately, that until further notice gatherings of more than five persons are prohibited unless express approval is obtained. And a curfew, effective twenty-two hundred to six hundred."
"I'll see to it," Kelm said.
Zeigler sat down at his desk to scan the low-priority reports listed on his screen. "So it seems that Kronians can have some fighting spirit too," he observed. "Could it mean that some of them might turn around yet, and see things our way, do you think? We could use some volunteers."
"I can't say," Kelm replied, trying to be tactful. "It's all so unprecedented. Anything could happen."
News from the Trojan was that the maneuver to boost Eskimo onward toward its rendezvous point had been executed successfully, and everything was on schedule. A message from Eskimo, however, had strongly questioned Zeigler's decision to act now, far sooner than had been planned. But the plan hadn't taken any account of the opportunity to strengthen Zeigler's force from an unexpected source with natural killers. The recruits might be rough raw material, but they were the kind that, with discipline and training, fanatical followers are shaped from. To do something about it, however, he would first have to be in control. So he had gambled that by risking the short term, during which potential opposition would be confused and in disarray, his grip would be firmer in the long run, when they'd had a chance to organize.
"How are Rakki and the other two doing?" he asked Kelm.
"Just sitting, waiting it out. At least they're smart enough to know when they don't have much choice," Kelm said.
The three natives who had been at the base yesterday when the Gallian incident occurred were still being detained, the main reason being simply that there had been more urgent things to take care of than taking them home. But it also saved Zeigler the trouble of having to go out to Joburg himself to put his deal to them. Keene's timing in bringing them here co
uldn't have been better.
"Then maybe it's about time we had a talk with them," Zeigler said.
"Shall I have them brought here?" Kelm asked.
Zeigler thought for a second. "No. We'll go over there," he replied. "And use that translator of ours who's been studying the tapes. We need to get her up to speed. Obviously the South African can't be involved in this."
CHAPTER THIRTY
The room that Rakki, White Head, and Gap Teeth were being held in was formed from the same kinds of materials as the crawling shell that had come to Joburg, the bird that had brought them to this "base" they called Serengeti, and the few other parts of it that they had seen since. The structure was not woven from anything, but consisted of unbroken sheets of a size and extent that amazed him. And how it was all fastened together such that the greatest force he could bring to bear failed to produce even the slightest bend or movement was a mystery. Doors opened silently of their own accord; light appeared at the touch of a finger; shining handles gave forth endless streams of water, hot or cold, and clearer than was found in the pools of high-mountain streams. How it was possible to create such things intrigued yet confounded him. He had seen the strange shapes from which the Sky People were constructing the base, and from which, presumably, they had also built their even vaster cities. And then, beyond that, what manner of knowledge of forces and powers enabled other creations to move themselves across the ground and fly in the sky?
Surely, Rakki would have thought, these were the god-beings that White Head had talked of, which people had once believed were to humans as humans were to animals and came from the sky. But no. White Head said they were human, just like himself, Rakki, or any of the others at Joburg or back in the caves. And that in itself was a challenge both to Rakki's hunger to know, and to his pride. For if they were human, it meant that he could learn too. And if other humans commanded such powers, a leader of any stature would have to show himself as capable of possessing them too.
"You say they are humans like us." Rakki brought the subject up again. He sat with his legs stretched along one of the fine woven-hair beds, his back propped against the wall, and addressed White Head, sitting in a chair at the table, causing pictures and lines of strange symbols to appear on a screen. White Head seemed to have an idea what some of the symbols meant. Gap Teeth was sitting cross-legged on the floor, silent and unmoving. He said the chairs were the wrong shape and too soft. They made him feel as if his bones were dissolving like salt stones dropped in a cooking pot.
"Just like us," White Head said again.
"But they are not just like us. You tell me they make these things from essences that lie hidden in rocks. But I have broken rocks and examined them, and I do not see these things. Why can we not make machines from essences of rocks if it is not because the Sky People are different?"
White Head pushed himself back from the table but kept his eyes on the screen. "They are different only in what they know. In the same way, you know much and Shell Eyes's baby knows nothing. But it is as human as you, and will become like you."
"Are you saying we are nothing but children?" Rakki challenged. He didn't like the comparison and felt anger at the suggestion.
"When it comes to learning the things the Sky People know, yes," White Head answered, refusing to compromise. Rakki knew it was true and let it go. White Head called the achievements of the Sky People "miracles"—things that required knowledge that was beyond normal understanding. It had been discovered little by little and passed down from generation to generation, always growing, for longer spans of time than Rakki was capable of grasping.
He still didn't know what to make of the confused impressions he had been getting ever since these gods who were not gods first appeared at Joburg. Keene, whom had first thought to be the head-god, and the long-haired goddess had told that the knowledge White Head spoke of came from people working with each other; that the ways of war prevented learning and brought only sorrow, pain, and destruction. They had brought him to Serengeti to see, and he had met the greater god Gallian, that even Keene served.
But what Rakki had seen was that the world of the gods did not exist as all working together in the way Keene and the long-haired goddess had said. They fought each other too—as those who burned with the inner flame that compels them to command and to rule were always driven to fight. And Zeigler's gods had proved the more powerful. He ruled, and Gallian was vanquished. Gallian's gods were reduced to servants as the Cave People had been made to serve their conquerors from the Swamps. So what was Rakki to make now of the things that Keene and the goddess had told him? If the gods didn't achieve their miracles by working for each other after all, then why had they tried to convince Rakki otherwise? Perhaps as a way of inducing Rakki, and hence all those he too ruled over, to work unconditionally for them. Now that would be a ploy that he had no difficulty understanding.
He heard the door opening and looked across. One of Zeigler's warriors came through and stood aside to make way for Zeigler himself, followed by another, muscular of build and fair like Yellow Hair. A female was with them, yellow-skinned and with slanted eyes. She put Rakki in mind of Hyokoka, the woman that Gap Teeth had claimed back at Joburg. Rakki swung his feet down and stood to meet them, and Gap Teeth rose from the floor. White Head turned in his chair.
"The warrior chief comes to us?" Rakki muttered, surprised.
"It is captives that are summoned to their captor," White Head said. "He is telling us we are as guests."
The female came forward. She seemed to know that White Head did most of the speaking and addressed herself to him, though acknowledging Rakki with glances of her eyes. "She is the talk-between for Governor Zeigler," White Head supplied—although Rakki had understood that much himself. "Her name is Leisha. The Governor regrets making us stay here. There are many troubles in Serengeti." Rakki nodded, satisfied. He felt he was being treated like a leader, not a child.
"We are not offended. He rules the mightier tribe," Rakki said. White Head seemed to take a long time passing it on, probably adding some words of his own.
* * *
Zeigler pondered while he studied Rakki searchingly, as if for a hint as to how best to broach the matter. Probably head-on and direct, he decided. The undisguised awe that Rakki had shown toward firearms ever since the first contact at Joburg, and the evident impression that yesterday's action had made on him, said they spoke a common language. "Tell him, more of us will arrive soon. Then we will be a truly mighty tribe."
Leisha interpreted with some trial and error. "From the . . . it sounds like 'gods' place,' beyond the clouds?"
"Yes." The image suited Zeigler fine. "But until then our numbers are small. Rakki and his Tribe could help make our position stronger."
An exchange ensued between Rakki and the old man, who was called Yobu. Leisha did her best to follow, at the same time keeping up an intermittent commentary. "Zeigler has the guns. . . . Why doesn't he just kill his enemies? . . . Because then they couldn't work for him. . . . They have the knowledge to . . . the nearest I can come up with is, 'perform miracles.' " Then Leisha concluded, "But Rakki says the Tribe does not have a large number of warriors. . . . He would be honored to help the god-Governor . . ." Zeigler had to bite his lip to prevent a smile from softening his features, " . . . but he wonders how much difference they would be able to make."
"He spoke before of more who live in caves and swamps to the east, beyond the mountains," Zeigler said.
"He does not rule that tribe. His enemy rules there."
That was something Zeigler hadn't known. He glanced automatically at Kelm, but Kelm's expression said he had nothing to offer. Zeigler frowned. And then the obvious angle suggested itself. He looked back at Rakki while continuing to speak through Leisha. "Suppose that in return for helping us, we help him remove his enemy. Then he will rule all the tribes. And we will have more allies." The flash in Rakki's eyes told Zeigler the answer before Leisha had finished translating it.
She went on, "But even with greater numbers, how could his warriors be a worthy addition to yours, who possess wondrous weapons?"
"If they join us as I ask, then they will have such weapons too," Zeigler promised.
Just then, the compad in Kelm's tunic pocket beeped. It was set to accept priority interrupts only. He took it out and raised it to his ear, keeping it on audio only. His eyes flickered unconsciously over Zeigler as he listened. "Yes, he's here with me. I'll put him on." He passed the set to Zeigler. "It's OpCom. The power control room is reporting some kind of problem with the Agni. They've put out a call for Dr. Keene."
"I should get over there," Zeigler said. "Stay here and make arrangements to get these people back to Joburg. See who we can spare to make an instruction fire-team. I want a dozen at least of Rakki's fighting men to begin small-arms familiarization right away. Also, find out what you can about these other people over the mountains. They sound like the material we could really use. Maybe that chief of theirs that this guy here is ready to take out is the hook that'll get them for us."
* * *
Aboard the Aztec, Vicki sat playing a solitaire game, her eyes following the cards as she turned them but not really seeing them. Tanya, who had ended up as Vicki's cabin mate, watched from a folding seat on the far side of the cramped space. She and Vicki's other friends had tried to arrange things such that someone was always with her ever since contact with the Trojan was lost. There had been no further news from Saturn.
The Anguished Dawn Page 25
