by Thomas Stone
"Is he all right?" she asked.
"Perfectly fine," replied the doctor, "especially considering what you two have been through. From what I understand of the climate here, it's amazing you've avoided frostbite."
"Harry had the opportunity. Didn't he tell you about it?"
"Well, no." The doctor turned and faced Harry. "Not having any problems with your hands or feet, are you?"
"Nope, nothing. I feel fine." Harry turned to Kathleen. "We need to get going."
"Go? Maybe the doc wants to tell us something else."
"No, I gave you injections to bolster your systems. Provided there's nothing wrong with either one of you, that's about all I can do. I'll have my lab results in about," he looked at his watch, "oh, three hours. Medscans both looked good. I think I can safely give you both an excellent bill of health."
"That's good enough for me," said Harry, moving toward the hatch.
Kathleen remained steadfast. "Did you tell Dr. Lincoln about the kitzloc?"
That stopped both the doc and Harry.
"Kitzloc?" said the doctor. "What's this about a kitzloc?"
Harry quickly stepped between the doctor and Kathleen. "It's nothing," he said, "a previous mission."
The doctor looked confused. "There were no anomalies in the cat scan that I can see. But if a kitzloc is involved, well to tell you the truth, I don't know a great deal about it. Still, there are procedures to follow."
"I'm sure that's not necessary, Doc. Why don't we talk again after the samples have been analyzed? That way, we'll have a better picture."
The doctor rubbed his chin. "Perhaps you're right."
Harry took the opening and escorted Kathleen away. When they were outside, she said, "You can let go of my arm now."
He turned her loose.
"You didn't tell him, Harry. I can't believe you didn't tell him after all that's happened."
Harry stopped and grasped her by the shoulders. Like the Bedorans did when they wanted to be taken seriously, he looked directly at her as he spoke. "The longer I can put it off, the better off I'll be."
"Harry! That's not true..."
"Think about it, when they find out, they'll put me away for tests. There's no telling how long that'll take. I don't want to do that. I feel fine. You heard what the doc said. Everything looks great."
She shook her head. "This is not the way to go. They'll know what happened from the data tapes anyway."
"That's later. I can deal with that."
"It's not a good idea, but if that's the way you want to play it, okay. I'm not going to lie for you though." She walked away toward the rover.
Harry stared after her for a moment, and then called out to her back, "Never asked you to!"
The crewmembers unloading the supplies looked at Harry, but otherwise went about their work. To them, it was an accepted spat between two officers of the Corporation. Rather charming, in fact, that the couple were having what appeared to be a lover's quarrel.
A number of the Bedorans had shown up to help and patiently waited outside the open ramp as the rovers were loaded with supplies. The Bedorans treated the humans with a great deal of respect and friendliness. Perhaps that's why the crew was so relaxed. No one saw the one, small Bedoran creep up the ramp and disappear inside the shuttle.
*
It was cold, but it wasn't snowing. A small consolation when the temperature hovers well under zero degrees Fahrenheit. As long as the wind wasn't blowing, the weather wouldn't affect shuttle lift-off.
The rescue team was eager to leave Bedor. They'd accomplished their mission and now restlessly waited for the departure ceremony to come to its conclusion. Most of the Bedorans had gathered beneath the open ramp to say farewell to Harry and Kathleen and the other humans who had brought food and supplies.
There was an unspoken question that hung in the air. Harry felt it. The Bedorans looked upon the humans as saviors, assuming that the Earthlings, along with all their other wondrous powers, would cause the long winter to end. As Japar spoke for the tribe, the others hopefully waited for something to happen.
"We pray for your safe return," continued Japar, "and hope you will remember us the next time you fly through Bedoran skies. You have done much for my people. We were hungry and you gave us food. We were cold and you gave us warmth. And, most of all, you have given us your friendship. These things will be remembered always"
Japar's tail danced over his head, relaying the proper ceremonial gestures. As the only human who could read the signs, Harry watched closely. Kathleen stood to one side. Harry knew she watched him for the wrong reasons. She looked for a sign that he was losing his marbles.
"When you return, if you return, you will be welcome on Bedor and treated accordingly. We are a poor people and have no means to repay your kindness other than to say you will always be in our hearts."
At that, Japar bowed and flicked his tail, indicating that his speech was completed. At his signal, the Bedorans backed away. Harry exchanged a word of farewell with Japar and waved to the rest of the tribe.
"Where's Yoni?" asked Kathleen.
Harry shrugged. "Call him Arai now. I don't know. He was pretty upset about Arai..."
"Well, we've got to go. They're telling us to board now."
"All right. I hope the little guy will be okay."
"Me too."
They gave a last look at the Bedorans, waved goodbye, and walked up the ramp into the ship. With a whine, the ramp rose up and locked into place. Minutes later, the engines cranked to life. The pilot checked to see if the Bedorans were clear and, satisfied they were, increased engine power. The shuttle shuddered and fairly leaped from the surface of Bedor.
Transit to the star cruiser didn't take long. Before Harry and Kathleen really had a chance to make themselves comfortable in their new quarters, the cruiser had broken out of orbit on a course to the wormhole.
Harry drew himself a cup of coffee and took a sip. The intercom sounded.
"Irons here," Harry answered.
Doc's voice floated through the speaker. "The test results are in and I'd like to speak to you as soon as possible. Do you think you could come to the sickbay?"
"Sure, Doc, right away."
Something in his voice told Harry the good doctor had found something. Well, he told himself, sooner or later the cat was going to get out of the bag. It looked like it was going to be sooner.
The doctor looked up as Harry entered the ship's infirmary. "Hello Harry, how are you feeling today?"
"In the pink, doc. What's the word?"
The doctor cleared his throat and looked at his computer display. "First, Harry, I want to be sure I don't alarm you. My preliminary exam was correct. You appear to be in top physical condition. Everything works the way it's supposed to."
"Then what's the problem?"
"I don't know exactly. Your blood tests showed some abnormal cellular formations. Not many, but enough to alert us that you have contracted something..."
"Something?" Harry asked. "That's a little vague. Is it a virus, a microbe, something like that?"
"No, not a virus. To be honest, I don't know what it is. Some kind of new cellular structure in your blood. It's not doing any harm that I can detect, but without more tests, it's hard to say."
"More tests," Harry repeated.
"Yes," said the doc, "but I'm afraid this sort of thing is beyond the laboratory facilities we have here. When we return to Earth, I'm going to recommend that you be thoroughly examined. It could very well be that your encounter with the kitzloc has something to do with the abnormalities."
No kidding, Harry thought.
"Until then, take it easy and let me know if you begin to feel, well, out of sorts."
Harry remained stoic. "Sure, Doc. No problem."
Afterwards, he went back to his quarters, avoiding both Kathleen and the crew. The ship entered the wormhole without incident and soon popped out the other side into familiar space. Harry wanted to sort things o
ut before Earth arrival. There was little doubt that he faced days, perhaps even weeks of medical tests and observation. Needless to say, he didn't look forward to it.
He tried to get in touch with the strange feelings that had mysteriously arisen within him, but whatever they were, they evaded any attempt to raise them again.
The door buzzed.
"Come," Harry said, and Kathleen entered the compartment.
"Hiding out?"
"Just thinking about things."
Kathleen, unsure of his state of mind, looked him over before speaking. "Well, we figured out what happened to Yoni."
Harry perked up. "Oh yeah? What?"
She sighed. "Seems like he stowed away inside one of the shuttle storage lockers."
"You mean, he's here? He's aboard the ship?"
"That's exactly what I mean."
Chapter 8
Minerva was beyond consolation. She acted so angry, Fagen was afraid she'd blow a circuit and he told her so.
"What do you expect, Edward? You have lied as only you can. You've left Bart in the hands of those, those primitives."
"That may be how it appears, but I promise you that's not the case."
"Another promise from the great Edward Fagen? What's that worth?"
"All right, Minerva, that's about enough." Fagen had all he could take from the over-intelligent computer. The problem was he couldn't shut her up if he wanted to. Besides that, he needed her a lot worse than she needed him. She put up with Fagen because Blane wanted her to, but Fagen knew she didn't like him.
"Fine," said the computer, "what are you going to do about Bart?"
"It's all right, Minerva. I admit there've been some unexpected problems, but nothing I can't handle." Fagen busied himself at the navigations console and hoped the machine would leave him alone for awhile.
"Hmph," the computer retorted. Sometimes she was so human, it was unnerving.
The energy scan showed the radiating source to be exactly where the tetrarch had said it. That in itself was a surprise. Fagen trusted the Malaaz leader as much as a rabid dog. But there had been little choice in the matter. If Fagen didn't play along, he was sure they'd kill Blane. The trip would be difficult enough without him. The problems of dealing with Minerva alone were enough to give Fagen a headache. If he told her how much danger Blane was actually in, she'd take matter into her own hands, so to speak. If she became angry enough, Fagen was certain he could kiss his plans good-bye.
"All right," he said finally, "let's set down at the pre-arranged coordinates. There should be a party there to greet us."
"Is Bart going to be with them?"
"No, I told you, he's staying in the Malaaz city to help with a new water distribution system. We had to get their help some way."
"If that's the truth, how come I can't talk to him? His implants aren't receiving my calls..."
"He's plugged into his portable, that's why. Now, could we get on with this please?"
Minerva didn't reply, but Fagen saw she had commenced their descent. Fagen had decided against using the smaller shuttle craft. The size of the ship, he hoped, would be enough to strike fear into the Malaaz. It was the best passive show of force that could be arranged and might be enough to make them think twice about harming Blane.
They landed in a meadow a few kilometers from the city. As the tetrarch had promised, along with the warriors who were to accompany Fagen, there were half a dozen beetles enlisted to carry supplies.
The beetles were the largest insects Fagen had ever seen. The smartest as well. Not to say they were up to speed with humans, or even the Malaaz, but in their own way they exhibited enough intelligence to be useful. Each was as big as a medium-sized collie, with six legs that kept their chitinous carapaces a foot and a half off the ground. Their hard, wide backs were perfect for toting supplies and equipment.
Not that Fagen intended to use them for that purpose. Minerva could transport them faster and better. Fagen hadn't wanted the porters, but the tetrarch insisted, explaining they were needed to service the warrior's needs.
Fagen looked over the three Malaaz warriors as they entered the ship. Like the others, they were dull and aggressive. Minerva didn't like having them around and said so.
"They're dirty. I'll have to constantly clean up after them."
"It won't be for long, Minerva, just until we locate the ghlowstone. Then we'll take them back to the city, pick up Blane, and be on our way."
If, Fagen thought, Minerva didn't start to act like a jackass.
He led the warriors to the control chamber and showed them where to sit. The beetles followed the Malaaz males and crouched at their feet, waving their antennae and touching each other reassuringly.
Both the Malaaz and the beetles smelled bad. Fagen commented to Minerva about it. Minerva laughed and said, "A drawback to wetware."
It was another jab at Fagen. Unlike Blane, he persisted in keeping his head free of implants. It was a long-standing argument among the three of them about the value of raising perception by the addition of bio-mechanical implants. Sure, they enhanced mental processes, but they were also permanent pieces of hardware slipped into your brain. Minerva thought it was a natural idea, another step in human evolution. Blane tended to agree, notwithstanding the fact that Fagen had lost count of the number of Blane's own implants.
Although the ship took off and quickly accelerated, Fagen felt nothing. Minerva was a marvel of alien technology and, in her circular engine spaces, she held the key to unlimited power. The ship generated its own warp fields by manipulating high-speed particles unknown to Earth science. The particles were emitted by a microscopic singularity held in suspension by a simple gravitonic field. No fuel was required. No muss, no fuss. The end result was an enclosed space surrounded by a field that rode upon the waves generated by the warp engines. Fagen and the others rode safely within that space, free from any and all gravitational fluxes, even those caused by forces of acceleration.
Fagen switched on the viewscreen and watched the terrain slip by. He didn't know what to call the planet other than Bedor-2. He and Blane had seen so many different places, they usually just referred to a place by its celestial coordinates. This place wasn't so different from the other oxygen-plentiful planets. It had the same greens and blues as Earth, similar temperature zones, the same chemical combinations made up water, air, and minerals. Unlike Earth, Bedor-2 was mostly unpopulated and unexplored.
There were indications another race had lived on Bedor-2 a long time before. The Malaaz called them “Krits”. The Krits had left not a few ruins and, in some cases, the decayed remains of a surprisingly advanced technology. The Malaaz had a rich assortment of legends about them. The one most often told detailed an account of how the Krits had lost everything by aspiring to be gods. Set in the middle of that story, like an expensive jewel in an ornate and extravagant necklace, was the ghlowstone. Apparently, so the story went, it was a gift from the gods, some kind of a power source. The Krits used the gift unwisely and ended up destroying themselves with weapons somehow charged by the ghlowstone.
Fagen looked over to the three Malaaz warriors. They didn't appear as though they could come up with an idea between the three of them. One sat on the couch, head thrown back, mouth wide and snoring. Another gaped at the viewscreen and scratched his genitals. The third had taken off his ragged boots and was inspecting the short claws that tipped his long toes.
Fagen tapped the console and asked, "How long until we reach our destination?"
"We could be there in minutes," replied Minerva, "but I've decreased our speed for the moment."
"Why?"
With a sigh, Minerva explained. "I've detected traces of tachyon emissions and some other, slower-moving particles that appear to be emanating from the destination you've chosen. It doesn't appear to be a type of radiation harmful to humans."
"So what's the problem?"
"It's causing some disturbances within my accelerator chamber. I'm having sporad
ic discharges from the fleck."
Fleck was the term Minerva used to describe the tiny singularity that supplied power to the ship.
As if to punctuate the problem, the ship suddenly pitched to the right, spilling the Malaaz from their seats. Fagen gripped the armrests of his chair and held himself in place. "What was that?"
"I told you, I'm having some control problems."
"Maintain your course..."
"Negative," replied Minerva, "I am hovering at this position until my analysis is complete."
There was nothing Fagen could do. If Minerva wanted to stop, there was nothing he could do about it. Only Blane could deal with her when she got stubborn. "How far are we from the power source?"
"I estimate fifteen point four two kilometers."
"Do you think you might be able to get us a little closer?" asked Fagen sarcastically.
"Not without further disruptions in drive control. Analysis predicts a certainty that the closer we get, the stronger the disruptions will become. The emissions from the unknown power source are causing sporadic power drop-outs in my circuits. This is as close as we're going to get."
"What do you mean? We're fifteen kilometers away!" Fagen stared at the viewscreen a moment. A rugged wilderness of alien jungle stretched out in all directions.
"As I said, this is as close as I can maneuver to the power source without total power outage. I've found a clearing where I can set down..."
"This isn't what we planned."
"I'm terribly sorry, Edward, but there is no other course, unless of course, you desire to return to the city."
Fagen mulled over the situation. Whether he liked it or not, Minerva couldn't get him to the ghlowstone. Fifteen kilometers was a long hike through uncharted jungle, but it seemed he had no other choice. "All right then, set us down."
Minerva made no reply, but followed the order. The viewscreen showed the jungle rising up to meet them. There was a slight jar as the ship touched the ground. Using his translator to confer with the Malaaz, Fagen informed them that they must hike to the location.
