“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“That’s the queerest sort of cargo to carry, I do agree. A beacon with no point of origin, screaming a Mayday, if you get what I mean.”
“Do you mean to let us have some routes in Eighth, then?”
Kiachif affected hurt innocence. “Of course, I do. Soon’s you can give me the beacon’s ID. Give you my word,” and he held up his right, bargain-making hand in promise.
Just then some of Feyder’s gangers entered the bar and Kiachif had a chance to slip away to find Feyder’s supercargo, who was an old friend, and called in a favor he had with that man. “When you get to Earth, just make certain you order that box opened in front of the inspectors because it was ‘damaged in transit.’ ”
“Why?” the super wanted to know.
“I’m not going to tell you why, what, or wherefore,” Kiachif insisted, fending off the man’s questions. “That would be suborning the witness, if you know what I mean. I just need an official inquiry into the contents of that container! And let me know who picks it up. That’s important, too.”
He left the Launch Center, looking for Ken.
Only Pat was at the farm, just getting up from the computer and looking so sick to heart. Kiachif thought he’d better let her talk her worry out of her system. And a drink’d help that process.
“They should be back fairly soon, Ali,” she said, still distracted and worried.
“Now, Patricia, why don’t you get me a little drink and tell me all about it?”
“Ali, you haven’t changed in twenty-four years,” she said, but she looked at him, not around him, and he chuckled.
“Why should I?”
“I know what you mean,” she capped his jovial question with his own words. “Perhaps a drink’s not a bad idea what with everything that’s happened today.”
“You look wore out, Patricia. You sit. I’ll get the bottle. Know where you keep it.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” she murmured, low enough so he wouldn’t hear her out in the kitchen. But his low chuckle suggested that he had. He was back in no time with the bottle of mlada and two glasses. “Oh, that’s too much for me, Ali.”
“Not a bit of it. You’re paler’n a milk stone and this’ll put heart in you. Your health!”
They touched glasses and she watched in fascination as half the large tumbler disappeared down his throat while a sip was all she could swallow. Still, as it slid down, she felt its warmth easing the tension in her body.
“Now, what’s been happening here today?”
So she told him, including a summary of Kelly’s activities on Earth, DeVeer’s assistance, and Klonski’s admissions.
“Knew that feller was involved in all this. Shoulda known he’d be put to better use than changing freeze marks. Hmmm. And Todd saw the shuttle blasting off and it didn’t register at the Launch Center?” Kiachif frowned deeply. “That do sort of point to the fact that Doona’s security satellites might have felt the touch of Klonski’s little talented digits.”
Pat frowned in the act of sipping the mlada. “Linc Newry—whom we’ve no reason to distrust—thought maybe the shuttle up-and-overed. He promised to keep a close watch on all the orbital monitors.”
“Huh! If one’s been tampered with, they all have. That your men coming back now?” he asked. Ears sharp enough to hear air escaping from a pinhole caught the thud of horses’ hooves and wagon wheels. Two wagons, he thought.
Pat hurried to throw open the door.
“Ali!” Ken swung his leg over the pommel and, throwing his reins to Robin with an admonition to rub Sockertwo down well, charged up the steps to greet the spacefarer. “Glad to see you. Got some questions ...”
“Got some answers, but not necessary to your questions. Hi there, ropy,” Ali added, shaking Todd’s hand as he joined his father on the porch. “Need a drink? Made your wife join me in a glass and you both look like you need a swig er two to set you right before we start jawing.”
Ken and Todd instantly saw the merits of that suggestion. They’d had a bad time in that hidden corral. Vic Solinari and Ben Adjei had sledded over to verify their findings. Vic had taken blood and tissue samples from the little leopard Appie—he was positive it had been foaled by his spotted mare—and Ben had done the same with the other two. One bore so many of his sire’s physical traits that it was easy to identify it as having come from the Hrrel Ranch. The other, a chestnut filly, had no distinguishing marks to give clues to her origin. Ben Adjei would freeze all three carcasses in case they were needed as evidence. They had made the most careful sweep, section by section, to find any more clues. The only one they did find was a half-empty sack of ssersa seed, which proved that the rustlers must have been responsible for the proliferation of that weed on previously cleared pasturelands.
Halfway through their recital, Pat slipped from the kitchen, having been distressed enough by the details to feel that preparing food was a better occupation for her.
With a tray full of steaming bowls of stew and bread rolls as well as a fresh bottle of mlada, she returned in time to hear why Ali Kiachif had sought them out.
“I’ve found me a new occupation,” Ali began, sipping at a freshly filled glass. “You might say I’ve taken to reading the future, if you know what I mean,” and he winked at Robin and Inessa, who had joined those in the living room once their evening stable chores had been completed. Lon had come in, too. “If I was to say, for example, that someone in the docks on Earth is going to open a container in four days, and make an official note that he found inside it a homeless beacon drone calling Mayday, would you believe me?”
Todd and Robin let out a wild, joyous war cry. Ken pounded the old merchant on the back. “How did you discover that, you old pirate?”
“Never mind,” Kiachif said, much gratified by the reaction to his news. He tapped his lips. “I have my sources, if you understand me. But I’ll say that the probe’s code number will be ARB-546-08, and see if it isn’t.”
“I’d better let Poldep know,” Ken said, starting toward the computer.
Hastily Kiachif put a hand on his arm. “Easy on the retros, mate. It’ll be reported to them by the appropriate authorities. It might seem as if you know something about it as you shouldn’t, if you know what I mean. Just concentrate on what’s near, dear, and here, and everything will work out all right. They’ll soon have proof that these boys passed through into Hrrilnorr space for good and sound reasons.” He winked solemnly and took another long pull on his drink. “ ’Sides, Patricia’s been telling me a thing or two that falls pleasantly upon the ears. It’s all coming together, if you get what I mean, all coming neatly together.”
“Finding that shuttle beacon’ll really clear us, Dad,” Todd said, his whole being revitalized. “How will we ever thank you for locating it, Captain Kiachif?”
“Well, laddie, there’s such things as hidden profits. I get what you need, you keep this planet viable, and I cart off the excess and sell it. You plant it, I transplant it. Neither of us loses that way! Better get going. Can’t trust those gangers of mine. Might get randy drunk er something.”
* * *
A few days later, Hrruvula notified them that information about the nameless beacon had been received by Poldep and passed on to the Treaty Council. An audience with the Council was arranged immediately to plead for their release.
Rogitel appeared, representing Spacedep, followed by Varnorian of Codep, who thudded heavily into a chair and gazed without much interest at the ceiling. Sampson DeVeer, having tendered an official copy of the supercargo’s report, represented the Poldep arm of interplanetary government. Ken and Hrrestan slipped in when the boys’ attorney was admitted. They ignored indignant, outraged, and pointed glances in their direction; Hrrestan patiently, Ken stubbornly.
Although DeVeer also handed copies to each of the
individual Councillors, they seemed to read as if spelling out each syllable in whichever language the document had been rendered.
Hrruvula finally cleared his throat several times and gained the Controller’s signal to proceed.
“As you have all had time to read and absorb the significance of the document so kindly brought by Inspector DeVeer, it is apparent, honored ones, that my clients have told the truth from the very beginning.” Hrruvula noted the glowers from Rogitel and Varnorian. “I am certain we are all relieved that two such fine young men have been cleared.”
“On this one point,” the Treaty Controller snapped out, “not on the other crimes of which they still stand accused. They must be adjudged guilty or innocent on all.” The Treaty Controller was adamant in his particularity. “More than just a simple matter of truth or falsehood is involved here. It pivots on the trust of one race for another in all matters concerning Rrala.”
“Is that just rhetoric,” Ken asked Hrrestan in an undertone, “or is he issuing a challenge?”
“It would seem so,” the village elder said. “Hrruvula tells me that he has heard of a resolution passed in the Hrruban Council of Speakers that will require it to withhold approval of the Treaty if our sons are proved guilty of the charges laid against them.”
Ken felt as if the floor had dropped out from under him. “That’s ridiculous!” he exclaimed, his voice rising. He hastily recalled where he was. “Holding up the Treaty for a pack of trumped-up allegations? What happened to ‘innocent before being proved guilty’?”
“Silence, please!” Treaty Controller banged on the table with his gavel.
Ken glanced up and received the chairman’s full glare. He forced himself to subside and sit quietly beside Hrrestan. Hrruvula resumed speaking.
“If one accusation has been proved spurious, honored Council members,” the attorney said, bowing gracefully so that his long red robes swayed, “and the characters of the two young men must speak for them somewhat ...”
“Granted,” Councillor Dupuis spoke up from her end of the dais. Councillor Mrrorra nodded her agreement, too.
“... Does that not cast significant doubt on the other incidents?” The Hrruban paused, hands extended to the board, appealingly.
“One piece of proof doesn’t negate the other charges ipso facto,” Rogitel said with dry contempt. His grasp of the formal court language was by no means as complete or subtly shaded as Hrruvula’s, but his diction was exact. “They will have to prove their innocence on each and every count and I doubt that lies within their abilities. There is still massive evidence on the charge of illegal purchase and smuggling of controlled artifacts.”
The Treaty Controller polled his Council, and the result, to Ken’s dismay, was a majority requiring a total acquittal. “The Council agrees. Innocence must be proved in regards to each of the remaining charges.”
“Then let them prove their innocence together,” Hrruvula said in a rich, rolling purr. “Keeping them apart was perhaps an acceptable remedy when their probity was at issue. It no longer is. Therefore, I feel that the separation of these two friends of the heart perpetrates an unnecessary cruelty. They both must be proved innocent so let them both work to prove it. That is not an unreasonable,” and Hrruvula’s cultivated voice rolled out the word syllable by syllable, and rolled out the next word, “request to make.” His voice rose slightly, not quite a question, but certainly subtly insinuating that it was too petty a contingency to be denied. Now he made deliberate eye contact with the Treaty Controller. “There is much at stake as you, honored Controller, know.”
The Controller seemed somewhat taken aback that anyone else knew about the Speakers’ decision, and he stared at the tall and elegant attorney.
“We can’t release them from house arrest,” Rogitel protested vehemently. “If they are allowed loose, who can tell what they’ll do next. Spacedep does not recommend giving that pair the freedom of the planet.”
“Honored Council members, may I speak?” Sampson DeVeer rose impressively to his feet and gazed down upon Rogitel. “Poldep disagrees with Spacedep. I agree with honored counsel that to be fair the house arrest should indeed be lifted. I have only so many hands and eyes at my disposal. I would be grateful for the additional help, which I assure Spacedep I will direct most carefully.” DeVeer bowed toward Rogitel, who sat staring up at him in barely concealed consternation. Ken could almost hear the wheels twirling in that machinelike brain of his. “They will be released, as it were, into my cognizance. I will know where they are at all times.”
Ken and Hrrestan could have cheered for DeVeer when he sat down, but that would have annoyed the already tried Treaty Controller further.
“I cannot condone their release for any reason whatsoever,” Rogitel said flatly.
“Nor I,” said Varnorian, after being pointedly nudged by his companion.
“But you do not have to. You have no actual authority in these cases,” DeVeer said gently. “Though you are frequently asked for advice, all misdemeanors and certainly grand larceny fall within Poldep jurisdiction. In my opinion, Codep and Spacedep are grossly overstepping their authority by attempting to investigate crimes or act as a judicial body where one is suspected.” He raised his voice. “I held my tongue before this, but in light of proof represented by the beacon and other data I have recently been shown, I urgently request the Treaty Council to release Todd Reeve and Hrriss, son of Hrrestan, from a home arrest which I understand neither has violated in any particular. Rather this body should applaud their humanity in answering a Mayday signal, knowing that it was an infraction of the Treaty they have both upheld and promoted.”
“He should have been a barrister,” Hrruvula murmured in an aside to Ken. “What a presence!”
The Treaty Controller found himself outnumbered by his own Council, who were overwhelmingly in favor of DeVeer’s proposal.
“We have spent enough of our valuable time on this case,” an elderly Hrruban member argued. Treaty Controller had always suspected that Second Speaker Hrrto had seen to his nomination to the Council. “Our time is limited. We should turn our attention to the matters which truly concern us and I suggest respectfully that we have the chamber cleared so that we may proceed.”
Treaty Controller had no choice but to agree. He referred to the printed agenda on the table before him. “Very well. The Council will reconsider this matter four weeks from today. The allegations against the defendants and the proof for and against their guilt will be discussed before the final vote on Treaty Renewal. So moved.” He banged the small hammer.
“Seconded,” Madam Dupuis trumpeted. The gavel fell again. “You are excused, gentles.”
Ken almost danced out of the austere chamber and he could see the violent switchings of Hrrestan’s tail as he walked beside him. When the doors had closed behind Hrruvula, Ken and Hrrestan could no longer contain their roars of triumph and were shushed by Hrruvula as well as the bailiff. Ken’s stride quickened to a jog, and he flat-handed open one side of the heavy door of the Treaty Building, Hrrestan doing the same to his leaf, until they were out in the open and able to cheer as loudly as they chose. Hayuman and Hrruban made for the transport grid, Hrrestan telling the startled operator to send them to the Friendship Bridge.
Once there, Ken looked at his old friend, his eyes dancing. “Shall we see which of us gets to his son first?”
* * *
Hrriss’s swifter feet made the reunion just barely on the Human side of the Friendship Bridge. He and Todd slammed into each other’s arms, pounding each other on the back and talking at the same time. Hrriss felt something slapping him in the legs. After a startled downward glance, he started to howl with laughter until his tear ducts overflowed.
“So, my Zodd, while we have been apart, you have grown a new tail,” he said, when he could catch his breath between snorts of laughter.
“What better way to c
elebrate our reuniting,” Todd replied, grinning until his jaw ached but not far from tears of joy himself. “It proved a talisman once before and I felt we needed all the luck we could cobble up.”
With the practice of many childhood years, Todd reached for the length of rope, carefully frayed at the end to resemble the tufted tip of the Hrruban caudal appendage. Then with a decisive gesture, he hauled it loose from his belt. “I couldn’t miss a real tail more than I have missed you, friend of my heart.”
“I have missed you, too,” Hrriss said, giving Todd a rib-crushing hug. “Half of my life was severed from my heart, my mind, my soul. Twenty-four years we have been friends, and these last weeks have seemed far longer than those we have enjoyed together.”
“We don’t do as well apart as we do together,” Todd said with a rueful grin. One arm about Hrriss’s shoulders and he felt twice the man who’d slumped about the house and ranch, unable to concentrate, like a machine idling ... “Whoa there!” And his hand dug into Hrriss’s forearm to stop him.
Surprised, Hrriss stopped and regarded the sparkling in Todd’s blue eyes and noticed the wicked grin shaping his hairless lips.
“What thought has occurred to my friend now that his brain is engaged again?”
Todd slapped a hand to his forehead. “I haven’t been thinking. And it only just dawned on ...” He turned, gripping Hrriss by both shoulders. “Okay, so they know we weren’t lying about the Mayday: they found the bloody beacon, but there’s other incontrovertible evidence that the Albie couldn’t have made all those stops, and not one of us, not even Captain Ali, thought of it.”
Hrriss racked his brain, shaking his head. “I do not know what you mean. Spare me more suspense, Zodd.”
“The engines of the Albie ... and us!” Todd’s grin got broader and his eyes were so bright that Hrriss thought they would pop from his head. He fanned his fingers at his friend. “C’mon, c’mon. What effect would all that warp-jump travel have on an engine? What effect would so many warp jumps have on the crew of a ship making them?”
Crisis On Doona Page 26
