Carefully, not attracting undue attention, Ken knelt, supporting Thayenta’s tiny frame across his knees, propping her against his chest. She was a featherweight, but he’d better conserve as much energy as possible. There was no telling when he’d need it in a hurry.
Zachary wasn’t lulled by the effusive greeting. “Noland, I said how —”
The hero of Survey brushed away verbal flies. “Oh, let that be. Belongs in the past, R.C. Dead and buried. The important thing is, you’re here! What brings you boys out this far? Secondary Survey, huh? Is this your apprentice?”
“Ken Farrell,” R.C. said flatly. “He doesn’t need to be told who you are.”
“Hello there, Ken!” Eads’ big hand went out and, mesmerized, Ken responded. Calluses scraped his palm. This was a man who fought nature as he’d fought space. Eads smiled down at him paternally. “You’ve got a good captain, son. But you know that. Back in the old days, R.C. and I broke new ground many a time. Back when it really was a frontier, before it got so damned soft. Right, R.C.? Pity you weren’t around then, son. You’d have liked it!” Three men clambered up the trail and spread out behind Eads. They stood at parade rest, strung along the hill crest between the waterfall and the boulders, effectively blocking any escape attempt in that direction. When these men arrived, Ken noted a shift in manner in the club wielders. On their mettle now that the elite guard was on the scene, they made a half-hearted effort to look military.
The reinforcements were the Praetorians, Noland Eads’ special troops. Compared to the thugs, the three men looked professional and alert, their needlers on their belts. Obviously Eads didn’t trust anyone but his Praetorians with them.
Thugs and Praetorians all attended Eads with worshipful respect. Ken didn’t blame them. He’d long been in awe of Eads himself. The man had that particular presence of command. Even on tape he had looked the hero, the space frontiersman in every way.
Eads glanced at Thayenta in amazement. “You got one of them, and alive! A female. That’s great, R.C. How you’d pull it off?”
R.C. stepped in before Ken could antagonize their captors. “We were lost out in that purple muck. The woman helped us. I believe she’s lost from her people too, perhaps an outcast. She’s harmless.”
“Harmless?” Eads’ bushy gray eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “She’s an alien; this planet’s lousy with them, R.C. We didn’t even know they were here till one of them came out of that purple mist. There’s some kind of gravitic force inside that damned stuff.” He glared upstream, toward Briv’s territory.
“Deviation,” and R.C. flicked a significant warning look at Ken, demanding silence. “Yes, that would explain things. We were coming into orbit when everything on board went haywire.”
“Yes, yes!” Frenzy shook Noland Eads. “I tell you, the aliens did it. They made us crash. We don’t know what they’ve got inside there. We can’t get at them.” Eads lowered his voice and spoke confidentially. “I think they’re telepaths, R.C. The first one came out of that stuff wouldn’t even talk. Can you imagine it? He sort of projected pictures at us. Pictures! A telepath. Why, he could have picked our brains. No telling what else.”
He was whispering in a ludicrous attempt to avoid telepathic eavesdropping. Ken started to smile. Then he realized Eads was serious. He actually thought he could block out the M’Nae with such simple tactics.
“You said the first one,” R.C. probed. “You saw others?”
Eads nodded vigorously. “They popped out of nowhere, and then disappeared just like that! I tell you, it was scary as all hell, R.C.”
Ken frowned. Eads hadn’t told them everything by a long shot. He’d neglected to mention why the aliens had “popped out of nowhere.” They had been teleporting out of M’Nae territory to rescue the body of their murdered ambassador, killed by Eads or one of his men.
“I don’t think the girl’s in that class,” R.C. said, offhand, as though bored with the subject. “If she’s a telepath, she’s a very low-level one. And she talks — particularly to my apprentice.” He winked elaborately at Eads and finished, “the only image she projects is that she’s got stars in her eyes. You know how kids are.”
Surreptitiously, Ken fumbled at the pink and silver cord circling Thayenta’s throat. He feared it would resist, but the alien translator popped loose after a slight tug. Ken slid the metal oblong into a slit pocket on the thigh of his fatigues. Eads mustn’t see the device. Not while so many questions remained unanswered, and more cropped up every minute.
“They’re dangerous,” Eads argued loudly, smacking a fist into a callused palm. “They’re responsible for that gravity field in there. They made us crash.”
With a show of grudging agreement, Zachary nodded.
“Hah! I was sure of it. Admit it. It didn’t make any difference how much retro pack you pulled, did it?” Eads crowed in bitter triumph. “Once that alien field got hold of you, down you went.”
“I couldn’t break it,” R.C. conceded. “We were lucky to get out of that crash alive.”
“Yes, yes! Lucky. It’s fate, that’s what it is, R.C. We were meant to be here — both of us,” Eads said with startling enthusiasm.
Fate? Ken eyed the huge cargo ship wedged against the valley’s back wall. Not fate but a damned good pilot got that ship down. Like the Survey ship, the cargo vessel had strewn her guts all along that gouge she had carved across the planet’s surface. Buckled plates and great rips in the Class-D’s hull testified to impact force. Ken doubted that everyone on board had lived through the crash. It was a miracle so many people were now able to work the farm fields and build the huts in the valley — and stand guard for Noland Eads.
“I thought she’d finished me a couple of times,” and Eads became somber for a few moments. “Cost us eighteen good people, R.C., that crash.” Then he thrust that behind him, talking too fast as he relived the crisis. “Pulled the emergency package and every auxiliary, the lifeboats, you name it, R.C. I pulled it. The whole damned rig, but I got her down. I was meant to. Fate meant for us to cheat those aliens, show them we could take everything they’d dish out.”
He was the model of a space veteran, zooming hands in the air to describe maneuvers, imitating the ship’s harrowing slide in. But Eads’ color was very high, a stammer tripping his tongue now and then, his eyes glittering.
R.C. darted a glance at Ken, then said, “We went through the same business on a smaller scale. Looks like you hit easier than we did, Noland. There’s nothing left of our ship but junk. Even communications are gone.”
He put a slight emphasis on that last sentence, and Eads caught the import. He relaxed visibly — obviously delighted to hear that no Mayday had gone out from the Survey ship. It seemed Eads did not want Earth Central to discover that there were two ships and dozens of humans down on NE 592 with no hope of escape without outside help.
Why would any sane man want to be marooned for months — maybe years — alone in a vast universe?
Any sane man. Did Noland Eads fit that description? By Ken’s standards the man wasn’t acting rationally. He had stolen a ship, supplies, and outlawed weapons; he had initiated a colony on a planet without any authorization. And Eads was revelling in the announcement that Zachary had not been able to send an S.O.S.
He didn’t want to be found.
Thayenta moved, whimpering, fumbling for the bruise on her check. Ken gently caught her hand and prevented that. As he restrained her Eads cried, “She mustn’t wake up. She’ll destroy us! She’ll call the rest of those aliens!”
Protectively, Ken hovered over the woman. “She won’t give you any trouble,” he retorted. Then he recalled R.C.’s “cover story.” Belligerence was the wrong tack. Ken altered his manner, played it callow, though it galled him. “I’ll take care of her. She’s okay. Honest.”
Was he laying it on too thick? He had to play the young fool just right and turn Eads’ wrath aside. Eads’ anger shifted momentarily toward Ken, then softened into a Dutch-
uncle smile. “Believe me, son, she’s dangerous. Oh, maybe not the girl. But you don’t see all the possibilities. There are more of them, and they’re telepaths. They’ll pick your brains just like vultures!”
Eads spoke more accurately than he realized. Briv indeed had telepathic vulture’s claws, and knew how to use them.
Past Eads’ shoulder, Ken saw R.C. nod approval of his naive, love-struck act. Ken swallowed his pride and pursued that line. “I’ll vouch for her, sir. I promise she won’t give you any trouble. Will you, honey?”
Ken thought hard, desperately sending a warning to the alien woman, praying she’d get the message. Thayenta stared up into Eads’ rugged face and flinched back against Ken. No, Ken beamed at her. Don’t panic. Play it timid but harmless. She must convince Eads she was both.
Above all Briv and his troops must not teleport out of the mist and try to rescue Thayenta. The situation was too tense; there were too many needlers. Any clash would result in bloodshed for both human and M’Nae, and must be avoided.
Ken sent his feeble mental appeals wider afield, to someone with more authority than Thayenta possessed. Don’t do it, Briv. Bide your time. Give us a chance to work this out. Please!
“Sha … shalessa?” Thayenta said in a quavering, little-girl voice. It was persuasive, because Thayenta was really scared. Wanting to comfort her, he formed a picture — himself, R.C., and Thayenta shoulder to shoulder, united against the foe. As a guide, he added a mini-drama of Thayenta cowering in front of Eads, but guarded, wary and observing.
A yes winged back to him, telepathically. The sound of the word, echoed in Ken’s skull. She had heard and understood him!
Now he had to make sure her trust wasn’t misplaced. He and R.C. had to protect the little alien with their lives if necessary. “It’s a mistake,” he soothed, as much for the onlookers as Thayenta. “They won’t hurt you anymore, honey.”
“Chief, should we —”
“It’s all right, Greer,” Eads dismissed the club wielders. “You boys get back to your posts. Keep an eye out for any more of ’em — and bring’em to me. I’ll take care of this one.”
As they drifted back up the trail Eads gazed intently at Thayenta. His taut, wide-eyed stare disturbed Ken. An odd little half-smile twisted Eads’ mouth. The man was unpredictable. Not even R.C. would know what to expect of his former classmate, now.
What should Ken tell Thayenta, telepathically? Warn her to be ready for anything? How could he explain that they were dealing with a human who was unstable, an outlaw by human legal standards?
Abruptly, Eads took Thayenta’s chin in his strong fingers and turned her head to catch the sunlight best. He examined her closely, and Thayenta bore his rudeness without comment, though Ken felt her tremble.
No, don’t call Briv for help. Not … yet!
“Yes, yes! Definitely one of them,” Eads concluded. “I thought maybe she might be a member of a third species. Some native I hadn’t spotted during my Initial Survey. But she’s one of the invaders. Same peculiar skin and black eyes …”
“She befriended us,” R.C. said firmly, “and helped us after we were shipwrecked, lost in that mist. She led us to you and all she got for it was a beating from one of your men.”
“The boys might have been too hasty,” Eads said, smiling benignly. He had a lot of charm, almost enough to persuade Ken he had jumped to conclusions. But the glitter in those gray eyes was much too bright. “You must come down to the village, R.C. I insist you enjoy our hospitality, meager though it is. It gets damned hot here in the late afternoon, and the little lady must be uncomfortable. We’ll find something for that bruise. If she can’t walk —”
“I can help her,” and Ken took Thayenta’s arms, lifting her to her feet. She swayed slightly and leaned on him. R.C. offered a hand, but Ken waved the older man off.
“Youngsters,” and R.C. smirked genially at Eads. “Think they can do anything.”
Eads threw an arm across Zachary’s shoulder, completely accepting this reunion with his old friend. Ken would have been happier to see more suspicion and a little honest distrust. Eads couldn’t have been convinced. Not that easily.
The elite guards swung aside to let Eads and his “guests” pass, then closed in behind them. They followed Ken, R.C., and Thayenta down the trail.
Which one had killed the M’Nae ambassador, or had the killer been Eads himself?
The colonists had cannibalized some of the cargo ship’s ruined plates. Diverting the natural channel of the falls, these formed blades for a crude water wheel. A bulky, old-fashioned storage chamber soaked up the slowly generated energy produced by the wheel.
Eads waved expansively, showing off his people’s workmanship, and pointed to the earthen dam containing a small pond.
“Reservoir. We did it ourselves, R.C. It was a hell of a lot of work, but it’ll be worth it in the drier season. It makes you feel proud to do it with your hands, too,” Eads said, grinning broadly.
They reached the foot of the trail and walked across the valley floor. Ken kept his pace slow, pretending that Thayenta needed a little caution, although she was no longer trembling. Fascinated, he took in everything he could.
Groves of pink-leaved willows grew along the stream’s banks, and the stream widened as it flowed through the valley. A scent of freshly-turned earth wafted on the breeze coming from the fields.
The men and women working the fields looked up and waved respectfully as Eads passed them. He was their revered leader. That was no hollow phrase, for all the people — the goons with the clubs, Eads’ Praetorian guards, the colonists working the fields — looked upon Noland Eads as a demi-god. His word was law in this valley.
The field workers toiled over shallow furrows, breaking clods with hand rakes, pulling plows with human labor. Ken stared at the sight. Surely they couldn’t have lost all their supplies and powered equipment in the crash. Could these people have chosen to revert to mankind’s primitive farming methods?
“There’s food and water at our community center,” Eads said, gesturing toward the little village. Heading toward the stream, Ken, R.C., and the alien woman followed him onto a well-travelled lane between two of the fields. “Imagine you’d like to get in out of this sun for a while. You been travelling far, R.C.?”
“A while,” R.C. replied evasively. “It’s difficult to judge distance when all your instruments are gone.” Zachary was a good liar when he had to be.
“Right, right!” Eads wasn’t troubled by his classmate’s evasion. Murmers rippled through the field-workers as they saw Thayenta. Eads waved reassuringly to them, calming their fears. Noland Eads had everything well in hand.
Ken read the colonists’ expression. Thayenta was an alien, a telepath. An object of hatred. Noland Eads wasn’t the only xenophobe here, merely the most prominent.
He counted heads. Three dozen colonists working the fields, perhaps two dozen more busy constructing buildings. There might be others on the far side of the village. And Eads had posted quite a few guards.
At this point, the NE 592 population balance favored the Terrans, not the M’Nae. But the M’Nae claimed to be here first. A few telepaths against dozens of armed and edgy humans. The outcome would be anyone’s guess.
Eads clumped over a quaint wooden footbridge spanning the stream. Ever the genial host, he pointed out sights along the village’s “main street.” “We’re just getting started, of course, but she’ll be solid as a rock when we get through. We’ve used nothing but native wood and materials, R.C.,” and he indicated the log and flagstone construction, the windowless buildings.
Ken and R.C. were intrigued by certain unique qualities of this pioneer village. “Did you lose your force tools in the crash?” R.C. asked.
“We didn’t bring any!” Eads sneered, and he and his Praetorians shared a loud, private joke at the Surveymen’s expense. Eads went on, “we don’t need them. Technology is the curse of humanity: it saps us, sucks us dry, makes us soft and we
ak.”
“You’ve been saying that for years, Noland,” R.C. said lightly, unimpressed by the sermon.
“Yes, for years, and nobody would listen to me. Nobody would act on it.” Eads stomped to the village’s central building and scuffed across a hand-planed door sill. The interior looked dark, and Ken and R.C. hung back, not eager to enter a cul-de-sac. Eads halted on the threshold and grinned wickedly at them. “What are you afraid of? Come on!”
What was that old proverb? Walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly. A chill chased up the back of Ken’s neck. But there was nothing they could do — not against men armed with needlers. R.C. followed Eads inside and Ken helped Thayenta through the door. The Praetorians brought up the rear.
*
The building was a log and stone fortress and housed a single large room filled with wooden benches and tables. A great deal of labor had gone into its construction. Eads was right. With the shutters propped open it was cooler inside. Natural air conditioning carried through the odors of grass and plowed earth. But since the shutters didn’t admit much light, the interior was dark and shadowy. Ken assumed these colonists used candles at night, faithful to Eads’ back-to-the-primitive philosophy.
“Our community center,” Eads explained, exhibiting the rough-hewn open beams supporting the roof. “We did it all ourselves.”
Their escort remained. Protecting their leader against treachery, two Praetorians stood by the door and the other circled behind Eads. Obviously they didn’t trust the Surveymen.
“Sit down, sit down!” Eads invited, waving to the benches. Ken showed Thayenta what to do. She was childishly delighted, and plainly she’d never seen Terran furniture before, which explained why the rock and plastic cell at M’Nae headquarters was so bare of the amenities.
Eads shoved a pitcher and cups, a bowl of bread-stuffs and fruit across a table toward his uneasy guests. “Here. Have a snack, a cup of cool stream water. There are few toxic flora on this planet, remember. I checked the place out myself, very thoroughly, a while back.” He chuckled at his own humor then bit noisily into a piece of the fruit, playing king’s taster to allay their suspicions.
Space Trap Page 9
