by neetha Napew
“We’re self-sufficient, Lieutenant,” was the adamant reply.
“No trouble with the indigenous life-forms? We’ve seen some huge—
“
“This plateau is safe from the large herbivores and their predators.”
“I shall make my report accordingly.” Rianav saluted and, with a smart about face, strode back to the sled with Titrivell.
She didn’t like having her back to the group. She could feel the tension in Titrivell but Discipline kept her pace controlled and suppressed her urge to look behind her.
Tension showed in Portegin’s face and he shoved the canopy back hard enough for it to bounce forward again on its track. Rianav and Titrivell wasted no time climbing into the sled and were barely seated when Portegin executed a fast vertical lift and without spoken order, headed directly back over the falls.
“Every single one of those adults was bigger than we are by a third of a meter, Lieutenant,” Portegin said. His lips were dry.
“As soon as we’re out of sight behind that ridge, take a direct course to our camp, helmsman.”
“They might not have had gravity to contend with,” Titrivell remarked, “but that’s a mighty fit bunch of people.”
“They’d have to be to survive on this planet and keep their aim in mind.”
“Their aim, Lieutenant?’
“Yes, helmsman. They want to own all of this planet, not just that
plateau or whatever other rights they’d possess on a shipwreck claim.”
“But they can’t do that! Can they, Lieutenant?” Portegin shifted uneasily in the pilot’s seat, clasping and reclasping the control bar with anxious, quick fingers.
“We’ll know more after we’ve made our report to the proper authorities, helmsman.”
Then it was Rianav’s turn to fidget, rubbing her fingers across her forehead because what she said sounded somehow wrong, and she couldn’t imagine why.
They were silent all the way back to the base; a silence partly imposed by the stormy weather, which made conversation in the sled difficult, partly due to the fatigue of Rianav and Titrivell as they came down from the height of Discipline.
Suddenly the sun, as if bored with meteorological displays, melted through the clouds and they were treated to vast panoramas of jungle, clear to the distant southern range of volcanoes, and on the east to the thrust of high jagged peaks, bare of the luxuriant, purple and green vegetation that seemed indestructible. Glancing around, Rianav caught sight of the three winged fliers and her anxiety dissipated for a reason she was unable to fathom.
The three remained discreetly above and behind the sled until Portegin descended to the vertical landing point in front of the camp’s veil screen. As Rianav climbed out of the sled, the golden fliers circled once and then disappeared to the northwest. As she had felt comforted by their curious escort, now she felt sad at their abrupt departure.
The veil screen opened and a woman walked out to meet them.
“Report, Varian.”
Blinking in confusion, Rianav gave her head a sharp shake. She did
not recognize that person as part of her command.
“I promised you a barrier, Varian,” the woman said with a droll smile. “Did I set it too deep?’
At that posthypnotic cue, the overlay of Rianav gave way to Varian. “Krims! Lunzie, how did you manage that sort of change?” Varian turned around staring at Triv who had so recently been another person entirely, and Portegin.
Triv was shaking his head, too, while Portegin, emerging from the sled, nearly fell in his surprise.
“Hey, what happened? We’re not from any cruiser!” As the realization of his day’s adventure seeped into his true self, Portegin collapsed against the side of the sled. “You mean, we just went in among those heavyworlders and . . . How?”
“Lunzie did it,” Varian said laughing with relief and nervousness as she absorbed the enormity of what they had done.
“He who thinks he’s telling the truth is more convincing Portegin,” Lunzie remarked.
“And you made sure our truths matched?” Triv asked.
“I’m better pleased that they weren’t needed. Come on in,” Lunzie
said, wagging her hand to indicate tiny insects flying through the veil opening. “Kai’s fretted long enough.
“He’s improving?” Varian asked.
“Slowly. That fringe toxemia is affecting his sense of touch. He
burned his hand, picking up a hot shell and wasn’t aware of heat or pain. I smelled the seared flesh. We must all watch out for him.”
Varian, entering the domed shelter, found herself viewing it with Rianav’s values: neat, functional on a primitive level, but cramped. Rianav also looked over the slightly built man—the effects of the poisoning were evident in his posture as well as the pallor of his face. Aygar was more to Rianav’s liking. Varian reasserted herself with an angry shake of her head. She was not Rianav, the lieutenant of a nonexistent cruiser; she was Varian, veterinary xeno-biologist. It was obvious from the state of Kai’s health, that she must assume the leadership of what remained of the expedition. Or was she leader? Lunzie had been acting far more decisively than she and along more constructive lines. Rianav lingered in Varian’s perceptions. Varian wished fervently to be only herself again, without these disruptive second thoughts.
“I am glad you got back safely, Varian,” Kai said, his face lighting with a wide smile. Odd blotches marred his face where the fringe punctures had healed but left bleached circles. Varian wondered if that flesh was desensitized as well. “Lunzie kept reassuring me you’d be safe but I don’t trust those heavyworlders.”
“They’re not heavyworlders any more,” Triv said with a derisive snort. “Not even Tanegli. He’s just a crippled flabby old man with delusions.”
“I’d question the use of “delusions”, Varian said, sounding like her alter ego again.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Lunzie suggested.
But once they had seated themselves and Varian began speaking, she
was Rianav, reporting dry fact. Triv added his observations while Portegin listened, occasionally shaking his head as if he could not reconcile his barriered experience with what he was hearing.
“Did Tanegli recognize you?” Kai asked.
“No. But then he hardly expected to see us,” Varian said, aware of
a vague sadness for Tanegli’s disintegrating body and personality. Or was that Rianav thinking? “We presented ourselves as a rescue party and while only a week of subjective time has passed for us, it was forty-three years for him.”
“Rianav—I mean . . .” Triv corrected himself with a laugh and then a sly glance at her, “Varian makes a convincing lieutenant, Kai.”
“Our appearance, even as a rescue team, upset Tanegli,” Varian went on, determined to suppress one set of her reactions. “He expected to see heavyworlder colonists emerge from that sled, reporting from their mother ship.”
“Aygar didn’t mention his encounter with you?’
“No—“
“And he hand-picked his reception committee at the old compound,” Triv said with a derisory grin. “Only they weren’t fast enough for Disciplined troops.” When Lunzie gave him a sideways glance of amusement, Triv’s expression turned to one of chagrin. “Well, we were Disciplined and we thought we were troops.”
“So you used the stunners?” Lunzie’s question was more statement.
“They made the difference all right,” Varian said. “On medium,
they’d only be immobilized about fifty minutes. It was raining.”
“A thoroughly chastening experience for your friends, I’ve no doubt,” Lunzie said. “It’s also less likely they’ll mention their abortive attempt when they return to the plateau. Not that that matters one way or another.”
“You mean, our deception will be discovered when the colony ship lands?” Kai asked.
Lunzie blinked once as if he had taken her m
eaning entirely wrong, but he couldn’t think how.
“First thing they’d do after landing is try to find us,” Varian said, “once they have the equipment and personnel to mount a planet-wide search.”
“Oh?” Lunzie was amused. “I thought you said you were a convincing rescue team.”
“Yes, but . . .”
“That colony ship is not coming in with due authorization from
FSP,” said Lunzie, ticking off her points. “You said they had primitive hydroelectric plants? Then they’ve enough to send pulsed code signals to alert the colony ship. Which, because it is not authorized, will not wish to be challenged by any FSP cruisers in the system. Remember, colony-sized ships have got to start slowing once they enter a solar system. They’d come in on a polar entry, more than likely. Did you see a beacon during your sweep of the settlement?’
“No, too hazy, but I’d say it was on the far edge of the grid, on the ridge,” Portegin said.
“Would it have a reciprocal facility?” Lunzie asked.
“They had all the spare matrices from the shuttle,” Portegin said
in a sour tone.
“Bakkun had the basic technical knowledge to improvise,” Kai said, remembering the man’s personnel record.
“It’ll buy us more time if they have augmented their communications,” said Lunzie, pleased.
“More time for what and how?” Varian asked. She was surprised to see a twinkle in the medic’s eyes as Lunzie turned to her.
“To establish our own claims on Ireta. Believe me, with as grand a larceny as this, no colony ship commander is going to land unless he’s very sure there isn’t a cruiser lurking behind one of Ireta’s moons or—“ Lunzie turned to Portegin. “Do we have enough matrices to contact the Ryxi?’
“The Ryxi?” Varian was startled by the question. She glared at Lunzie in sudden antagonism. The Ryxi mustn’t learn about the giffs.
“I’d quite forgotten about them,” Kai said.
“I’d rather we didn’t,” Varian said in a tight voice. “How could
they help us?”
“Why would they?” Triv wanted to know.
“Vrl wasn’t pleased with Kai’s report about the giffs,” Varian
began urgently. “You must know what the Ryxi are like, Lunzie?”
“Oh, I do. As I recall it, Kai, you mentioned that the Ryxi had
sent out a homing capsule directing their colony ship to start. They’d be
well settled in by now—“
“Why would they help us?” Kai asked. He was as unhappy about contacting the Ryxi as Varian but for a less altruistic motive. “They probably assumed that the ARCT-10 picked us up decades ago.”
“The Ryxi generally employ human crew for their space craft,” Lunzie said, cutting through Kai’s objections. “I’d be vastly surprised if they didn’t have a supply ship calling in at intervals.”
“You mean to ask them to pose as Varian’s cruiser? What good would that do except delay the colony ship a while?”
“Any delay helps our purpose.” Lunzie was unruffled.
“And what is our purpose?” Varian asked, a little relieved that
perhaps the Ryxi needn’t personally be involved.
“Delay. Especially to delay that colony ship from landing and consolidating the heavyworlders’ gains.”
“Their plans have worked out very well so far,” Varian said. “They
have established and maintained a settlement on a brutal, primitive world
-- “
“Whose side are you on?” Kai asked, startled by her comment.
“Ours, of course. But you can’t deny that the survivors have done a
thundering good job of being stranded—for whatever reason.”
“They are, however,” and Lunzie’s cool tone rebuked Varian more pointedly than Kai’s agitation, “about to commit grand theft against the Federated Sentient Planets.”
“Grand theft?” Triv was torn between laughter and shock.
“What else do you call stealing a planet?” Lunzie asked, completely
serious. “Which is what they’ll achieve if that colony ship lands. Oh, FSP can still charge Tanegli with mutiny . . .” and Lunzie shrugged at that useless display of legality. “We, and the sleepers, will get sweet nothing for a lapse of forty-three years because we didn’t produce any significant results in opening the planet.”
“We were sent on an exploratory mission,” Kai began defensively.
“Which remains incomplete.” Lunzie made another eloquent shrug of
her shoulders.
“What are you driving at, Lunzie.?” Varian asked.
“If we, too, make a significant contribution, the planet cannot be
ceded entirely to the Heavyworld colonists, even if their ship lands. We do that by continuing with the original intention of the landing party: a survey of the geological and xenobiological features. It would be better if we could prevent the colony ship’s landing, any way we can. If we somehow validate the “rescue” before the colony ship sets down, we could limit the settlers to that part they have worked.”
“They’d do right well then,” Triv said with a long sigh, “for the plateau is iron-rich. Aulia and I also found significant uranium traces along the up thrust of that long mountain chain the day they mutinied. Never did have a chance to tell you that, Kai.”
“One wouldn’t wish them to have nothing for their labors,” Lunzie said with deep irony, before she turned to Varian. “There’re also your pets, the giffs, Varian, who need to be permitted to evolve without interference. I’d go before the Supreme Council to defend their protection as a patently intelligent species.”
“The whole planet should fall under that protection,” Varian declared.
“Quite possibly,” Lunzie said, “especially if Trizein’s notion is correct about this planet’s having some how been populated with species from Earth’s Mesozoic age. That could be the preemptive consideration.”
“Not with a world as rich as transuranics as this.” Kai said in a tone that brooked no contradiction.
“The two are not mutually exclusive,” Lunzie remarked mildly. “But if the colony ship gets down . . .”
“And if we should be found?” Triv asked.
“Which is undoubtedly the first thing Aygar would instruct them to
do,” Varian said, remembering the fury in that young man’s eyes, promising retribution.
“We could use Dimenon and Margit,” Kai said thoughtfully into the silence that followed.
“And Trizein,” Lunzie said.
“Why him?” Portegin asked. “He’s only an analyst and he wouldn’t
have any facilities.”
“He’s our authority on the Mesozoic zoology,” Lunzie said.
“Portegin, could you rig a jammer for the communications mast at
the plateau?” Kai asked.
“That’d mean getting close to the settlement again,” Portegin was making no secret of his disinclination.
“Not very close,” Triv remarked blandly.
“They wouldn’t be expecting a ‘rescue’ party to interfere,” Kai
said with a grin.
“Good point,” Varian said, pleased and relieved that her co-leader was reasserting himself. “And the sooner that is done, the better.”
“Agreed!” Lunzie’s single word was unexpectedly emphatic. “But, if doing that would use matrices required to reach the Ryxi . . .”
“No, I think enough are available,” Portegin said blithely unaware of the consternation on the faces of both Kai and Varian.
“Kai,” and Lunzie turned almost brusquely from the technician, “how clearly do you recall the deposits of ore we’d already found?”
“Very clearly,” Kai said in a tone that he hoped Lunzie would interpret.
“Excellent. When I go back to the shuttle, I’ll run fiber through the synthesizer for writing material. Trizein never forgets anything he’s analy
zed, so he can rewrite his notes.”
“Terilla could repeat those exquisite drawings of hers, “Varian said.
“Children do not adapt well to the trauma of elapsed time,” said Lunzie in a cool voice. “It’s hard enough on adults to realize that most of their friends, and probably all their immediate family are aged or dead.” The silence that greeted her remark caused her to glance at each of their faces. Her expression was kinder as she went on. “It’s hard enough for us, but at least we have a task to which we can devote our energies.” She paused again, looking about her. “I think we’d best get some sleep now. We’ve a lot to begin tomorrow.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
About halfway through that restless night, Varian realized that with the possible exception of Lunzie, no one was finding sleep easy. She was divided between the desire to talk out the day’s puzzles and the privacy of the night in which to sort out her muddled reactions.
The revelation that Lunzie had so subtly overlaid her consciousness with that of Rianav distressed Varian. Not because she minded assuming an alter ego but because, as Rianav, her reactions to the mutineers’ descendants, and even toward Tanegli, had been sympathetic rather than vengeful. As Varian, she ought not to have any compassion for the man, considering that he and his fellows had robbed her of forty-three years of the companionship of her friends and relatives. Not to mention the minor fact that the mutiny had probably placed Varian’s advancement in the Service in jeopardy. And the Service now constituted Varian’s anchor. Her parents could be dead. Her brother and two sisters, all her friends, would be entering their seventh or eighth decades and their thoughts would be turned to whatever retirement activity they had earned during their productive years. They would hardly be likely to welcome a youthful Varian.
How many times had this experience happened to Lunzie? The question popped unexpectedly into Varian’s drowsing mind and shook her out of the brief spate of self pity. Lunzie had subtly altered since Varian awakened her. Or perhaps, Varian, immersed in her xenobiology, had simply failed to take a proper measure of the medic. Lunzie had kept pretty much to herself and her duties before the mutiny. Lunzie’s Service profile had indicated nothing unusual. Nor was it unusual for a medic to be Disciplined. Lunzie’s posting to their expedition had all the elements of coincidence . . . but was it? Since she had revealed herself Adept, and showed a great deal of knowledge about the phenomenology of shipwreck, salvage legalities, and improper colonial takeovers. Had Lunzie been shipwrecked before?
