by neetha Napew
“We’ve communications capability, and I can rig up a remote outside
here,” Portegin was saying. “It won’t take me that much longer,” then he
turned with an apologetic grin to Varian, “though I do need a few more
matrices and more weld-wire, two number-four—“
“Put it on a list!” Varian said with a mock resignation.
“I did,” and there was nothing sheepish about the speed with which
Portegin handed over his “few’ requirements, “and then we can communicate directly with the ARCT-10 when, as, and if it makes its long overdue appearance.”
“Dimenon and I want to know if the Thek really are squatting on the sites of the old cores. He remembers some of the coordinates but what we sank were so near to some of the older ones, we can’t be sure unless we have a screen.”
“Why would they go after theirs? It’s more logical to go after ours, isn’t it?” Portegin asked with some exasperation.
“Thek logic remains obscure to us poor mortals,” Lunzie said, “but I’d prefer to be in communication with as many entities as possible . . . the ones that have the courtesy to answer.”
Kai turned to Lunzie in considerable annoyance. “Can’t you see, Lunzie, how important it might be for me to be here today? What can the cruiser’s diagnostic unit do for me that Godheir’s can’t discuss with it?”
“Because we now have a sample of fringe to serve into the
diagnostic unit, and Mayerd’s a specialist in planetary exotic toxins, and
the sooner we get the poison flushed out of your system, the sooner you can
get out of that padded suit and operate on normal channels! Do I make
myself plain? Besides,” and she tossed her hand up, “Sassinak wants you
there this morning at 0900. It won’t take you that much longer to go
through a diagnosis again, now
To that, Kai had to agree.
“Then let’s go. Kai, will you be recorder for me?” Varian asked
briskly as she looped the bag containing all the reports over her shoulder. “Then I can make use of the journey time.” A little reminder to Kai that he wasn’t the only one to have his plans altered might help. “If you could get our usual escort on tape,” she said as they settled themselves in the battered two-man sled. “I really must see if the nose can be repaired.”
With cautious and studied movements, Kai got into the sled and strapped himself in. His padded jumpsuit was of a softer than regulation fabric, padded on shin, thigh, calf, elbow and forearm, with skin-gloves, to prevent inadvertent injury. Then he pulled the recorder toward him to check its load and sighted for focus and available light. As he completed these preparations, Varian noticed that his eyes were deeply shadowed, a strange contrast to the white flesh about the puncture marks.
“Ready when you are!” he said.
Varian nodded and took the sled out of the cave into the still
misty morning. The passage of the sled swirled the yellowish fog about and she used instruments rather than visual guidance in such a pea soup.
“So much for an out bound record,” she said in disgust. “Nothing will filter that.”
The telltagger sputtered. “Well, life-forms are coming in at seven o’clock,” Kai said with a semblance of a grin. “You’ve got your escort.”
“How do they see through this murk?”
“Why don’t you ask them?”
“Funny fellow! When do I have the opportunity?”
“I know the feeling!”
Whatever tension had existed between them dissipated at this
exchange. They traveled on in the murk, Kai silent in deference to the concentration Varian required to fly in such conditions. They had been airborne for over an hour when the mist began to disperse.
“Kai, why wouldn’t Tor be here?”
“That has puzzled me. Especially since Tor took the trouble to
rouse the Ryxi and get Godheir down here to help us.”
“Isn’t it unusual for so many Thek to gather?”
“Highly. I’ve never heard of it before. I wonder if Commander
Sassinak would give me a little time on the cruiser’s memory banks.”
Varian grinned to herself. “She seems to wish to cooperate in anyway she can. Oh, turn that thing off,” Varian added, for they were having to raise their voices to be heard above the telltagger. Kai flicked it off mid blip.
Just then they emerged from the mist into a brilliantly clear sunlit band, over tree-dotted plains; not too far from their original site. Varian craned her neck and saw the three escort giffs emerge from the fog, the sun gilding their fur.
“Why would Sassinak want us at a meeting?”
“I could think of half a hundred reasons.”
“Maybe she’s had a report about the ARCT-10 that she won’t commit
to a broadcast?”
Varian shot her companion a quick look but his face gave away no internal emotions. The fate of the ARCT-10 would be of primary importance to Kai: his family had been ship-bred for generations. The ARCT-10 was his home far more than any planet had ever been hers.
“Could be,” she replied noncommittally. To dismiss the idea out of
hand would be unkind, no matter how she wished to reassure Kai. “Sassiness’
not the sort to sugar-coat a pill—“
“And she’d be aware of the morale factor for most of us.”
“Kai, how long does an update take to reach a cruiser this far from
a sector headquarters?”
Kai’s breath hissed as he inhaled and then he gave her a slightly sheepish grin. “Not by this morning if the first asking was yesterday.”
“And as Captain Godheir said, he’d’ve heard something if the ARCT-10 was known to be lost.”
“Hmmmm.”
“Scant reassurances I know, but a time when no news can be good
news. Say, I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but Sassinak is Lunzie’s great-great-great-granddaughter!”
“No!”
“That was Sassiness’ parting remark to me yesterday. Took me the
entire flight back to get over the shock. To cushion the shock she sent Lunzie a bottle of Sverulan brandy.” Varian gave Kai a very gentle nudge in the ribs. “Now, I know you don’t appreciate planetary brews, but this stuff is gorgeous. Get on Lunzie’s good side and she might just give you a sip— if she hasn’t already finished the bottle on the sly. No, she couldn’t have, no one could drink that much Sverulan brandy and function the next day!”
“I just can’t imagine Lunzie as a mother.”
“I can. She mothers us in her fashion. It’s the ancestor part that
stuns me. That original child is probably long since dead, and the next four generations as well, and here is Lunzie, motoring along in fine shape. And younger than Sassinak.
“Ship-breds like me don’t usually run into this sort of anomaly.”
“Ireta’s full of them.” All kinds, why not a human paradox! I
wonder if Lunzie will ever tell us how long she’s cold-slept. One thing, it hasn’t affected her wits at all.”
The patch of clear sky abruptly gave way to a fast-moving heavy squall and managing the sled took all Varian’s attention. They rode it out and the weather cleared to lowering clouds scudding across the sky just as they reached the plateau, so Kai had a good view of the area. Varian came in above the grid so that Kai got the full effect of the two space vehicles, the smaller one, lean and dangerous, the other gross and brooding. From that vantage, Kai could also see the settlement, the foundry, and the unoccupied length of the grid.
“They meant to have more than one transport land here, didn’t they?”
“It would appear so,” she replied. “Krims! Aygar took Sassinak at her word.” She pointed to the three sleds parked at the edge of the settlement and the people busy loading them. “They aren’t wasting any time. I wonder where t
hey’re going.”
Kai scowled. “They’ve been given transport?”
“They’re just as entitled to replacement equipment as we are—“
“Mutineers may not profit—“
“Only Tanegli qualifies as a mutineer—“
“Those people are accessories to a conspiracy against FSP.” Kai
pointed agitatedly at the transport vessel.
“Yes, they are. They are the real criminals, Kai, not Aygar and his group.”
“I don’t understand your reasoning, Varian.” Kai’s face was strained. “How can you possibly take their side?”
“I’m not taking their side, Kai, but I can’t help respecting people who’ve managed to survive Ireta and achieve that grid!” She banked the sled to laid it close to the open port of the Zaid-Dayan. “If only the ARCT had stripped the beacon, or kept its schedule with us.”
“If”, Kai said contemptuously.
“I’d cheerfully settle for a lousy “when”, when we get you
operational again. When we find out what the Thek are doing. When we find out what the tribunal thinks of all this . . .”
They landed and very cautiously Kai eased himself out of the sled. Varian made a show of checking the records in her shoulder bag. She couldn’t watch the once agile, active young man reduced to the slow motion of the invalid. Then she picked up the container with the fringe samples Lunzie had frozen.
They were met at the portal by a very dark-skinned officer, lean and bouncy. This one wore the rank device of a lieutenant commander and the fourragere of an adjutant. He gave them a white-toothed smile before gesturing urgently over his shoulder for someone to hurry up.
“Fordeliton, Leaders Varian, Kai. Very pleased to meet you and at your service. We saw your sled approaching. And here is Mayerd.”
The chief medic came bustling up, her eyes narrowing as she greeted Kai. Then she turned to Varian. “How’s Portegin?”
“Constructing a core screen from that wealth of space matrices and units the commander supplied us with,” Varian said. “I’ve a fringe sample for you.”
“Just what I need.” She took the sample case from Varian. “Kai, you go on with Fordeliton. I’ll collect you when we’ve analyzed this information.” Mayerd hurried off down the corridor.
“If you’ll come with me,” and Fordeliton gestured in the appropriate direction. “Portside at the next corridor junction, Varian. And that second door . . .”
Varian halted at the door which bore Fordeliton’s name plate. “I thought we were to see Commander Sassinak.”
“In a manner of speaking, you will. I don’t think we will have missed anything. They’d only just been escorted in when I went to collect you,” he said cryptically as he thumbed the catch on his door and motioned for Varian and Kai to precede him.
For a cruiser his quarters were unusually spacious. One wall contained terminal, displays, and auxiliary controls. The main view screen was operational and, to Varian’s surprise, tuned to the commander’s office and the meeting that was in progress.
“No, she’s checking their papers. The commander said she would spin that out indefinitely until I had you here. If you’ll be seated—“ and he leaned over to touch a button. “There, she knows you’re here. Yesterday we arrested them for landing illegally on an unopened planet. They protested that they had responded to an emergency distress call and merely homed on the beacon. Sassinak suggested this morning’s meeting to discuss the irregularity. She wanted you both here for obvious reasons.”
Eyes on the screen, Varian felt for the offered chair with fumbling hands. “She’s not in there alone with them, is she?” she asked Fordeliton in a hushed voice, reacting unconsciously to the menace presented by the five heavyworlders perched implacably in front of Sassinak.
“That’s a stun-wand the commander is handling so casually,” Fordeliton wore an amused expression. “And there’s a group of Wefts in marine uniform just beyond our view, plus of course, the usual sort of escort personnel.”
“Wefts?” Kai was surprised. Wefts were enigmatic shape-changing morphs of unusual abilities. No humanoid of any variety had ever emerged victorious from combat against a Weft.
“Yes, as luck would have it, we’ve six groups with us this tour! The others are inside the transport, strategically deployed. In their own flesh.”
Varian and Kai were both impressed and reassured. Varian released the arms of her chair and glanced quickly at Kai to see that he had cautiously splayed his fingers on his thighs, then she devoted her entire attention to Sassiness’ performance on the screen.
As the commander read through the transport ship’s documentation, she tapped the wand through her fingers repeatedly, mimicking a nervous habit.
Just beyond her desk sat the five heavyworlders, three men and two women with the massive physiques and broad, almost brutish features of their mutation. They wore soiled ship suits and the wide kidney belts that were the fashion of their kind. The dips and buckles were empty of the usual weaponry and tools. Varian tried to tell herself that the facial expressions were not hostile; it was simply that heavyworlders were not given to needless gestures or expressions even on planets with considerably less gravity than their own. Unfortunately, she could more clearly remember Paskutti and Tardma deliberately and enjoyably injuring her and Kai, and needlessly terrorizing two young girls. She could not muster impartiality or neutral detachment.
“Yes, yes, Captain Cruss,” Sassinak was saying, her voice velvety smooth, and almost unctuous, “your papers do seem to be in order and one cannot fault your chivalry in diverting to investigate a distress call.”
“It was not a distress call,” Cruss said in a heavy, almost hollow voice. “It was a message sent by homing capsule to the ARCT-10. As I told you when your ship challenged me yesterday, we found the capsule drifting in space. It had been damaged beyond repair. We were able to play back the message. It was sent by Paskutti. The voice pattern matched that of one of our planetary explorers on contract assignment with the ARCT-10. We verified that he had not been heard of in over forty-three years. Naturally it was our duty to investigate.”
“What disaster had overcome this Paskutti?”
“His base camp had been over run by stampeding herbivores of
unusual size. He and five others had escaped with only their lives. Most of their equipment had been damaged beyond repair. A homing capsule is sturdy. It survived. He sent a message. The ARCT-10 did not receive the capsule for it was damaged just outside this solar system. Where we found it. I have brought it to show you.”
With that Captain Cruss deposited a battered shell of metal on her desk with a courtesy that bordered on insolence. The homing capsule had long since lost its propulsion unit and the power pack so that it looked truncated as well as bent. The message core remained, scored and dinged. Sassinak wisely refrained from handling the heavy object.
“How under the seven suns did they manage to mess up a homing capsule like that?” Kai demanded under his breath.
“Heavyworld equipment for Heavyworld purposes,” Fordeliton remarked cheerfully.
“And the message, of course, has been recorded in your computer banks,” Sassinak stated.
“Can that be done, Kai?” asked Varian.
“Not easily,” Fordeliton replied. “It would depend on how the
message was recorded. If our suspicion is correct and there is a broad conspiracy among all the heavyworlders to take whatever opportunities present themselves, then Paskutti would have constructed the message so that anyone could extract it. Sssh.”
“You are welcome to extract that message from our computer, Commander,” Cruss replied.
“Providential that such a capsule was available to this Paskutti. Possibly the battering it received during the stampede caused its subsequent malfunction.
“You have acted properly, as FSP expects a civilian ship to do when
a distress message appears out of the black. However,
Captain Cruss, that
act of charity does not detract from the fact that this planet is clearly
cataloged as unexplored in my computer banks and, as such, not released
even for limited colonization. You must understand that I am bound to
adhere to FSP strictures in such an instance by standing orders. I have
sent a direct signal to Sector Headquarters and no doubt I shall receive
orders shortly. Since this is an exceedingly hostile and dangerous world,”
and Sassinak permitted herself a delicate shudder, “I must require you,
your officers, and any passengers not in cryogenic suspension to remain
aboard your vessel—“
Captain Cruss rose from his chair. So did his companions. Sassinak neither flinched nor quivered as the heavyworlders dwarfed her at her desk.
“Actually,” she continued in her conversational tone of voice, “the shipwrecked personnel seem to have done extremely well in adapting to the hostile environment, even to the commendable work of engineering a grid for their eventual rescue by a passing friendly ship. Most ingenious of them. However, I understand that they would be willing to supply you with fresh vegetable protein and fruit if you desire a change from long-voyage rations. In return, of course, for the usual items of barter.” She smiled. “I hope your water supplies are adequate. The local water is foul-tasting and smells.” With a surly growl and a dismissive flick of his vast hand, Captain Cruss indicated he needed no replenishments. “Very well, then. I’m positive you will wish to continue on your way as soon as we have received clearance for you. The indigenes will have all the help we can give them. You may be sure of that.” Sassinak rose then, to signify the end of the interview. Varian noticed that she held the wand in her right hand, tapping it carelessly against the palm of the left. When Cruss made a motion to reclaim the capsule, she lowered the wand to forestall the attempt, not quite touching his wrist.
