by F. M. Busby
She shook her head. "From anyone else, that story would amaze me."
"Surprises me a little, too, looking back, Rissa. The wine's all gone. Do you-"
"I have had enough for tonight."
"Of everything?"
"No, Bran. Only of the wine."
So he went to her. Again her response began and built, but fell short. Afterward he said, "Still no luck."
"No-but closer, this time. Do not fret, Bran-the fault is not in you but in my past. With your help I must overcome it."
"I don't know much about your past; maybe you should tell me."
"Yes. But not tonight-if nothing more, we have prepared me well for sleep." the intercom buzzed; she woke to see sunlight slanting in through the window above her. Bran's voice said, "Yes, what is it?"
"Direct word from Lefthand Thread. They've got what we've been waiting for." Tregare sat up. "Good! How far out were they, Hain, when they made that transmission?''
"Not sure, Captain. Two weeks, maybe."
"So, less now. Let's see-standard decel-ten days, maybe."
"Right. Do you want to send an answer?"
"Yes. Tell Limmer-I assume he's still in command-to land at One Point One and refuel, sell off any surplus cargo. He's to deal with Alsen Bleeker as first choice."
"Bleeker? But he's the one, gave us all the trouble!"
"Not any more, Hain. We-you might say we own him now."
Deverel laughed. "If you say so. Any more for Limmer?"
"Just that we'll be talking with him later-and to advise, soon as he knows when he'll be landing."
"Right. I'll get on it." The intercom went silent; Tregare stood and stretched.
"This is good news, Bran?"
"I've had days start a lot worse." He turned to her. "Who-ever showers first, the other starts breakfast. Your choice?"
She moved across and clambered out of bed. "I do not yet belong in the kitchen. I smell like a goat."
"All right. Don't take too long or the food'll be overdone."
In the bathroom she made a fast job of it, postponing a shampoo for later, and entered the kitchen still drying herself.
"Am I in time?"
"Sure. I put the eggs on last but the meat's close to done. Just serve mine up with a lid over it." She took the spatula and he moved quickly away. She heard splashing and what might have been called singing-then he was back, body dried but damp hair dripping. She had already begun eating; he sat, un-covered his plate, and cut himself a bite.
"Not bad. If the spaceship business goes bust, we can start a restaurant." She smiled but, mouth filled, did not answer.
Finished, she checked the coffeepot; it was not ready. She walked to the front of the cabin and looked out. The sky was clear. She said, "There are fewer clouds here."
"Yeah. The Big Hills wring most of them out. All year round it's drier on this side." Now she smeled the coffee, went to pour it, and sat again. "Bran? I would like to take an aircar and cruise about-ex-plore this side of the hills a bit, perhaps take a closer look at the plains below us."
He shook his head. "Not today-sorry. I'm taking a little trip myself. Business. And the other machine's acting up lately -Kenekke tinkers with it when he has the time, but it's still not dependable. Tomorrow al right?" She hid her irritation. "You do not invite me to join you today?"
"Well, sure-if you want to."
"How soon do you intend to leave?"
"An hour, maybe. Why?"
"That is enough time-I wil be ready." Cheerful again, she left the kitchen and washed her hair. He was gone when she came out, and she had time to groom herself leisurely. She was dressed and ready when he returned.
Outside by the aircar, Deverel waited. "Do you want one of us to come with you, skipper, or both stay here?"
"Both stay, I think. Anse hasn't been to Base Two yet, but he doesn't fly aircars-so no use showing him the way until there's something for him to do there.'
"All right. Anything comes in, we'll call on Channel D."
"Good enough." As Deverel walked toward the scout, Rissa and Tregare entered the aircar. He energized propulsion, waited a moment for the indicators to show ready, and took off at a high slant.
"You have not told me where it is we go. Base Two, you said?"
"Yeah. We just left Base One. Two is where ships can land."
"Your personal spaceport, Bran?" She looked out over the faling ridges as the aircar crossed them.
"It's primitive, Rissa. Only the basic repair facilities, and less fuel storage than I'd like. But I needed a place away from One Point One, where ships could gather."
"And they are gathered?''
He laughed. "Just one- Carcharodon. This morning, on the squawkbox, Vanois accepted my terms and moved across the Hills. Rissa-I have another ship!"
She looked at him until her silence drew his gaze. "I was right long ago-back on Inconnu-was I not? You build your-self a fleet and-I am certain-intend to arm it. Two questions remain."
They dipped low over a ridge; he turned right, to parallel the formation. "Only two?" he said. "I thought there'd be more."
"In detail, perhaps-but basically only two* How many ships? And where will you take them?"
"You're right." His voice was low. "The rest depends on those two things. Well, then-how many? I don't know yetand I wish I did, for the matter of where to go depends on how many I can gather."
"Tregare." His look was puzzled; she laughed. "You have your own roles, as I have mine. In whatever home we may have, you are Bran. But as a ship captain, I can know you only as Tregare."
At his nod, she said, "I cannot imagine you building a fleet to attack Far Corner or Terranova or the Twin Worlds. So-is it Stronghold? Or-Earth itself?"
"How the hell did you figure that out?" He shook his head. "No, you needn't answer. It's because we think alike, you and I."
"At some times we do. And-"
"Hold it a minute-we're getting close, and I want you to catch the landmarks." He pointed. "The peak we're passing
-there to the right, with the slant-cut top. Now just past it-the half-circle, almost, that ridge makes? We go up and over it-and there-the flat-bottomed crater, where once a moun-tain threw its insides up!" As they descended, she saw that the crater floor's natural flatness had been improved, in places, by artificial grading. At one side near the rim a group of buildings, blank-walled, formed a short arc.
Near them stood a ship. At the nose, several plates had been removed and now hung from scaffolding.
"Yes,'' she said, "the insigne reads Carcharodon.''
Tregare landed near the ship, Unbuckling his safety har-ness, he removed a gun from his jacket and tucked it into a recess beside his seat. "I don't need this, and Vanois is touchy about being trusted, so why annoy him?" Disembarking, Tre-gare carried only a briefcase.
They were halfway to the ship when a man walked down its ramp to meet them. "That's Vanois," Tregare said.
The man's appearance surprised her-squat and heavy, with mud-colored skin and hair. The hair and beard were un-trimmed and uncombed. In contrast his clothing appeared clean, was brightly colored and tailored snugly.
"He talks an odd jargon sometimes," Tregare whispered, "but don't let it fool you. He's smart enough, Vanois is."
"You are the negotiator here. I will follow your lead."
He chuckled. "Sure. Don't forget-I've seen you impro-vise." Now they neared the ramp; Vanois stepped off it. Tre-gare said, "Hello, Raoul. Ready to sign? But hey-first, meet my wife-Tari Obrigo."
"You does me honor." The man's voice was clear and sweet, like a child's. He shook Tregare's hand, then Rissa's. "It's pleasured, Ms. Obrigo."
"And I, Captain Vanois."
The man turned again to Tregare. "It's to sign, now? Yes. But first you says again the terms."
"For a half share and control, you get the amount we agreed-half in Weltmarks, the other half in equipment, in-stallation, and training. Under my direction you keep ship command and ful
l discretion concerning your own people. I think that's the gist, isn't it?"
Vanois nodded. "You says it same as before. Y'knows-I hates it some, you needing control. But I hasn't the money only to keep going as I has-and maybe not that, the way things is gone. With the guns and all-and when does I get 'em? How long is we got to wait here?" As he talked, Vanois briefly scanned the contracts Tregare had brought, and in large, bold handwriting he signed them. He kept one copy and returned the other two.
"In-oh, about twelve days-the ship should be here with the stuff. Has to refuel at the port first, as you did. But the wait's not al waste. I see you've got some plates skinned off the nose already-that's good. I've brought blueprints for al the auxiliary work-bulkhead changes, turret mountings and gunners' positions, conduit and power cables-so you can turn your people loose on some of the preliminary changes ahead of time."
"I likes that. Now-does I get you or someones to oversee, and for if I has questions?" Tregare frowned. "I can't be here myself much, until later -too much else to do. But we have duplicate prints at Base One, and can confer over the viewscreen. If you run into real trouble, which I don't expect, Deverel and Kenekke can look in and help."
"Shoulds be enough. So-blueprints, you says?"
"In here." Tregare held out the briefcase; Vanois took it and began to pul out the thick sheaf of drawings. "No-keep the case, too. It's handier."
"I thanks you." Abruptly he put out his hand, again first to Tregare and then to Rissa. "Now it's work I needs to do." He turned away. Rissa said, "Captain Vanois! I-I'd like to ask you about the Shrakken, the aliens at Charleyhorse." The man's brows lowered until she could hardly see his eyes. He nodded toward Tregare. When he spoke, his voice was lower and quiet. "All I know, I told him- when we were drinking. I'm not drunk now and don't have time for it-and to talk of those creatures, I need to be." He turned and walked up Carcharodon's ramp.
rissa looked after him; Tregare took her arm. "Ready to go? Unless you want to look around here some, we might as wel."
"I am ready." They entered the aircar, Rissa leading. "Bran? May I take the controls?"
"Sure, if you want. Certain you can find your way back?"
"I believe so-if not, you can instruct me. Is there time to swing down and see a litle of the plains, the edge of them?" He looked at his watch. "Well-I'm expecting a cal back at One. We'd be cutting it a litle fine, and there'd barely be time to reach the plains and return. If you want, though-''
"No. As you said earlier, I can take the car myself, a longer time, when you do not need it." She took them up, looked for landmarks, and turned upslope at an angle. To see farther ahead she went high; after a time, she recognized the plateau and steered toward it.
"What did you think of Vanois?"
"He surprised me. At the end, when he was shaken, he dropped the strange speech patterns he had used previously. Why-?"
"Vanois grew up on a colony planet-pretty rustic, I gather. When UET took him into space training he was rid-iculed and punished for talking like a backwoodser. So since he Escaped he's made a point of using his childhood argot-and people can like it or not."
"A strange form of pride-and not without its costs."
"What do you mean?"
"It makes his dealings more difficult-if the affectation irritates others as much as it irritated me." Tregare nodded. "I hadn't thought of it before because I've known him so long it doesn't bother me any more-but maybe that's why a smart man like Raoul is on such a tight money string. I mean, annoying people for no good tactical reason."
"Will he be a handicap to your operation?"
"No. He knows better than to play games in a tight spot.''
"Good." They came over the plateau, still high above it because Rissa wanted to see around it in full panorama. Then she dropped the car, fast and swooping from side to side, halting the headlong fall close to the ground. She landed gently; they got out and walked into the cabin.
Rissa was thirsty; she poured cold fruit juice for herself, and at Tregare's nod, for him also. Standing across the table from her he said, "That was a real blue streak landing you made there."
"Was it not satisfactory? I like to try my skills occasion-ally."
"No, it was fine. I thought you might cut it too close, but you didn't. I just wondered why all the flash. Well, keeping in practice is a good enough reason."
"And perhaps I wished to remind myself that I can do some things well."
"What-" The intercom's buzz cut him off; he went to answer. From where she sat, Rissa could not make out the words. Then he crossed to the door and opened it. "View-screen cal; I'l take it on the scout-like to see who I'm talk-ing to when I can. I wish I'd thought to bring a portable to use in here." He smiled. "This shouldn't take long." The door closed behind him; Rissa poured his juice back into the pitcher and put it away to stay cool. She waited, and finally Tregare called her. "I'm stuck here for longer than I thought. You may as wel go ahead and have some lunch; I'l snack here from ship's stores. If you want the aircar this after-noon I won't be needing it after al. Al right?"
"Yes. Perhaps I wil." She cut the circuit, thinking that the only way to hold this man to her was to make herself more of a part to his great project. And the doing, she decided, would not be as easy as the thinking.
she made a light meal. Afterward she took the aircar down-slope, cruising at medium speed, skimming crests and dipping into valleys. An hour later, she crossed the last ridge-at its foot, the plains began. She flew straight out across their begin-nings.
She saw few trees, mostly grouped around occasional ponds. A tall grasslike growth covered the gently rolling ground; now it waved in a light breeze. At first she sighted no animals, but after a few minutes a herd-thirty or forty, she guessed-sprang up from concealment among the grass-hummocks. About the size of goats, the creatures leaped and scattered, then grouped and ran steadily off to her right.
She swerved and dipped for a closer look-they were tan, like the grass, and slightly dappled. Some had three horns; the rest had none. Satisfied, she returned to her previous course. She looked back once; the herd had stopped running.
The sight of two half-eaten carcasses told her of carnivores, but she saw none. Something dark brown, looking like a small rhinoceros but without a horn, waddled seli-importantly across her course and did not deign to look up or hurry as she passed. She knew of no birds on Number One-when she thought she saw a flock, a closer look showed her a cloud of large, brightly colored insects.
She looked at her watch. It was nearly time to turn back, but she went a little farther-for on the horizon she saw a shimmer. She lifted for better view and kept course for several minutes, until she saw it was a vast lake-or ocean, perhaps? No-above ground level of the far side of the Hils it could not be an ocean. Yet she could see no farther shore. Stil curious-but resigned to remaining so, this day-she turned back, holding altitude and pushing the car near to top speed. As she neared the Hils she climbed farther, until in the distance she discerned Tregare's plateau; then she leveled off, as near its height as she could determine. She held steady-course, speed, and altitude-until she approached Base One. She had guessed a bit low-she had to lift a few feet to clear the edge, then touched ground almost immediately and taxied to a stop near the cabin. The door was a few inches ajar; as she climbed the steps, Tregare opened it. His right hand held the big energy gun.
"What-?"
"The way you came in, Rissa-from below and then straight at me-it could have been anybody, and not wanting to give warning."
"I had not thought-I am sorry, Bran, if I alarmed you."
He grinned. "That's all right; it does me good to pull the string tight once in a while. I was only explaining why this hand cannon." He put it back in its place and bent to meet her kiss. Then, "Well, did you get a good look at the plains?"
"Not long enough-far enough, I mean-but good, yes." She reported what she had seen. "That body of water, Bran-do you know what it is?"
"S
ure. That's Big Sink-sort of an inland sea, and mostly a dead one. Think of Great Salt Lake on Earth-only twice as salty and maybe the size of Australia."
She thought back, recalling. "Yes. I would not be able to swim in it, would I? The water so much heavier-I would float too high."
"That's right. I tried once; you can almost crawl on it." He looked thoughtful. "Those grassrunners-that herd you saw. If we have time we should go out and bag a couple, while they're in this close. Good eating, the few times I've tasted that meat."
"I am not sure whether I have had any. Except for bush stomper I do not know what animals I have eaten from, on this world."
He paused. "We haven't had grassrunner-of course I don't know what all you've eaten, other times. But Deverel has a couple in freeze, and-I forgot to mention, we're invited to eat with Hain and Anse on the scout, a little later. All right?"
"Yes. Of course."
"I'll call, then-and if the menu's not already planned ..." "Yes. But, Bran-how much later, do we go there?" "What? Oh-well, enough, I'd say. If I'm reading you right."
"I think you are. I will be back in a few moments." She was, and in the bed felt herself closer to completion than before-but still not enough to strive. To his look of in-quiry, she answered, "It will happen, Bran-and this waiting, now, is not unpleasant." "If you say so. Well, let's go to dinner."
if Tregare had not told her, she thought, she could not have guessed the relationship of Deverel and Kenekke. Yet obvi-ously they were a team of long standing; in preparing and serv-ing the meal they worked together without getting in each other's way, cramped though the space was, and with hardly a word about the operation. Instead the talk concerned ships and their people- Inconnu, Carcharodon,Lefthand Thread, and others.
"How do you like grassrunner steak?" Tregare asked.
She was chewing a bite and could only nod. Then she swal-lowed and took a sip of wine. "I like it-it has a gamy tang that bushstomper lacks. I see why it must be cooked well-done; a rare cut, I think, might be rather tough."
