The Mystery of Ireta
Page 33
Portegin neatly brought the sled to a landing on the bare circular mark left by a dome which must have occupied that area for a long time.
Titrivell opened the canopy and Rianav stepped out smartly. Titrivell followed, closed the canopy, and nodded to Portegin to secure it. Rianav caught the slight widening of Titrivell’s eyes just as she heard a slight crunch, and turned slowly in the direction of the sound.
Six figures, three men and three women, ranged themselves in an almost insolent parody of the parade stance of troops. Each wore a standard-issue ship suit. Despite Discipline, the sight gave Rianav a flash of concern. Then she noticed that the ship suits were patched and that the six neither wore forcebelts nor carried stunners. The reinforcements had not, then, arrived. These were descendants of the original force, mocking her by appearing in their ancestors’ garb.
Rianav was, however, grateful for the stunner at her side. Each of the six was taller, broader, heavier than she or Titrivell.
She hesitated only that brief moment for evaluation and then strode forward, not quite leisurely but not in formal martial pace. She glanced from one face to the next, almost as if she expected to recognize someone. Halting, exactly four meters from Aygar, she saluted.
“You are prompt, Aygar.”
“And you!” The man curved his lips in a half-smile, as his eyes flicked toward Titrivell, correctly standing two paces behind his lieutenant, then toward the pilot at the controls of the closed sled.
“Did your injured man survive?”
“Yes, and sends his gratitude for the remedy.”
“Any more trouble with fringes?”
“No.” Rianav said. “But you would certainly be safe from that menace on this butte? . . .” Her comment trailed into a question.
“We outgrew its limited accommodations,” Aygar said. That prompted some smiles from his five companions.
“You may be unaware of the provisions made by the Federated Sentient Planets to reimburse survivors—”
“We’re not survivors, Lieutenant,” said Aygar. “We were born on this planet. We own it.”
“Really, Aygar,” said Rianav in a conciliatory tone, gesturing at the others, “six people can only own as much as supplies their needs.”
“We are more than six.”
“No matter how much your original number has multiplied, it is clearly stated in FSP law—”
“We are the law here, Rianav! We accuse you of trespass.”
The change of intensity in his voice alerted Rianav with her Disciplined sensitivity. She had her stun gun out and was firing at Aygar and the two on his right before they could complete their forward springs. Titrivell was not a millisecond later in stunning the other three.
With her gun in hand, for she had set for medium shock and she wasn’t certain how long such superb bodies would be affected, she strode to the sprawled forms, motionless on the dusty ground. Aygar’s eyes glittered with anger as she leaned down and, grabbing his right arm, hauled him onto his back. She nodded to Titrivell to perform the same courtesy to the others.
“You’ll be unable to move for approximately fifty minutes. Doubtless your grandparents mentioned stunners? You and your companions will suffer no ill-effects from stunning. We will continue our mission. We prefer not to use weapons on other humanoids, but three to one are unfair odds. Nor are we trespassers, Aygar. Our cruiser heard the distress signal and responded. We are morally obliged to do so. No doubt your isolation is the reason for your failure to comprehend the common laws of the galaxy. I will be lenient in your instance and not report your aggressive reaction to my superiors. You cannot own a world which is still listed as unexplored in the Federated Register. Possession may be considered primary in law, but you possess,” and she stressed the word with a slight pause, “very little of this jungle world no matter how many offspring were produced by the original party. But that’s not a matter for me to decide. I report fact as I observe it.”
The tendons in Aygar’s neck stood out in his attempt to break paralysis by sheer willpower.
“You could do yourself injury, Aygar. Relax now and you’ll suffer no harm.”
Punctuating her advice, thunder cracked and lightning spewed blindingly out of the sky. The thin clouds which had begun to gather during the fracas had coalesced with a ferocity fitting the aerial display.
“There! Something to cool you down.” Rianav clipped her stunner to her belt. Gesturing Titrivell to follow, she strode to the sled.
“Are there many more like that?” Titrivell asked as he settled himself in the sled.
“That’s what I think we’d better find out.” As she took the controls, Rianav motioned to Portegin to slide into the other front seat. “Aygar gave me directions by foot. Whether they’re accurate or not, we can but follow and see. ‘Run at a good steady pace,’ he told me, ‘to your right, through the first hills, turn right up the ravine, but mind the river snakes. Continue along the river course to the first falls, take the easiest route up the cliff, follow the line of limestone, until the valley widens.’ We’ll know their settlement by the cultivated fields.” Rianav snorted derisively.
She guided the sled along the course she had taken on her first visit, then intersected the ravine where she had encountered Aygar. She continued along the ravine and soon came to a fast river, diverted from its old channel by the debris of a huge rockfall. They followed the river upstream for some distance to a beautiful curtain of wide falls roughly forty meters high.
“Useful, too,” Portegin said, pointing to port. “They’ve set up a waterwheel and what looks like a generator station.”
He glanced at Rianav to see if she intended to investigate, but she was already angling the sled above the falls, keeping one eye starboard for the well-marked path, so that Titrivell and Portegin saw the second, larger falls before she did.
“Have they a power source there, too?”
“Yes, Lieutenant, another one, larger,” Portegin reported, homing in on the site with the camera eye.
“And there are the cultivated fields,” Titrivell said as the sled rose above the falls, “and a discontinuity fold!”
“A what?” Rianav asked, keeping her eyes on the scene before her.
“Which would explain this raised valley,” Titrivell went on. “Old sea bed probably. Look at the size of it!”
“And the reason why they abandoned the butte site,” Rianav said. “This plateau is large enough to support the biggest colony ship they build. Can you see evidence of a grid?”
Rianav spiraled the sled, then set it to hover as the three took in the vast area. The foreground was clear despite the beginning of a misty rainfall. The river and the terraced fields that began at its banks disappeared into a haze. In the far distance orange red flashes at several different points suggested that volcanoes added smoke to the heat mists. Portside of the river was the inevitable lush and tangled jungle growth, slanting upward to crown the heights and edges of the broad valley.
“Lieutenant, look!” Titrivell directed Rianav’s attention to the settlement to starboard. “Clever of them to use that stranded beach formation.”
“The what?”
“And look, ma’am, if you can spot it in the haze, the rock . . . it’s ore bearing! No mistaking that color.” Titrivell whistled, his eyes wide with excitement. “Just look how that color continues. The whole narding cliff’s packed with iron ore.”
“A second reason for switching camps, then,” she said in a dry tone, dampening the rising enthusiasm Titrivell was displaying.
“See, over there, chimneys!” Titrivell continued, undaunted. Rianav applied a half-turn. “A foundry, all right, and a big one. And blast it all, they’ve got rails . . . leading to . . . Lieutenant, would you—about thirty degrees and—”
“We’re looking for a grid, Titrivell!” she said but corrected the helm.
“We don’t need to look, Lieutenant,” replied Titrivell, “if those rails lead to a mine or . . .”
/> She gave the sled a bit of power, and they glided along the edge of plateau wall. Abruptly the vegetation disappeared and a huge pit opened below them, glistening in the rain.
“Or an opencast mine like this one!”
“I didn’t know you were so knowledgeable about mining, Titrivell,” Rianav said with a shaky laugh. She hadn’t expected such evidence of industry from Aygar’s barbaric appearance and primitive weaponry.
“You don’t need to know much not to miss that sort of operation, ma’am,” Titrivell said. He looked now beyond the pit, and Rianav, following his gaze, turned the sled away from the mining area, down toward the immense flat plateau.
“They sure didn’t have far to haul,” Portegin remarked at his post. “Nor far to go home, either. There’s a sizable settlement three degrees starboard, ma’am.”
“I’m far more interested in whether the grid is finished or not.” Rianav was also aware that she should render as full a report as possible to her commander, and that included the number of inhabitants. She diverted the sled to fly over the buildings that shortly became a geometrical arrangement, at the center of which was an expedition dome: its plastic had been scarred by wind and abrasive sands, darkened by sun, but it was still usable and, apparently, the focal point of the settlement.
Despite the rain, people seemed to be pursuing their normal tasks. The unexpected overflight of the sled was seen and soon people were pointing at them.
“There is a grid, ma’am,” Portegin said, lifting his head from the camera scan. “I can’t think why else so much of the undergrowth would be cleared from half the plateau. There’s even a road leading to the area.”
Rianav swung the sled about. “I’d like a headcount on this pass, Portegin, Titrivell.” She nosed the sled down and slowed its forward speed.
“I make about forty-nine,” Portegin said, “but the children keep moving about.”
“I count fifty. No, fifty-one. A woman just came out of the dome and she’s assisting someone, a man. That makes fifty-two.”
“The old man must be the one survivor of the original group,” Rianav said. She increased their speed and headed toward the road Portegin had mentioned.
No observer could miss the grid, despite the mud and windblown debris that covered its lattice design, for the soil was divided into squares as far as they could see in the rain.
“Got to give such people credit,” Portegin said. “Heavyworld stock or no, that’s quite a feat. Going from nothing to that in four decades.”
She went far enough across the plateau to confirm that the project was probably finished, then circled widely, heading back toward the settlement.
“Are we going to land?” Portegin asked as they approached. They could see that a crowd waited at the edge of the settlement. “The old man’s waving. He expects us to land.” Portegin seemed nervous.
“It is our mission after all, Portegin,” Rianav remarked dryly.
“And none of them have stunners or Aygar’s group would have had ’em ,” Titrivell added.
“Aygar might not have mentioned our encounter to anyone in authority,” Rianav said. “All his welcoming party were young.”
“It’s to their advantage, Lieutenant, to remain ‘unrescued’ until that colony ship arrives,” Titrivell added.
Portegin snorted. “But we’re here, aren’t we?”
“It’s not as if they won’t do very well under the Shipwreck Contingencies,” Titrivell said.
“Aygar has greater ambitions, as we heard,” Rianav noted. “That’s not our problem, fortunately. All we had to do was check out the distress call.”
She landed the sled a hundred meters from the crowd, passing control over to Portegin with the same instructions she had given before. With Titrivell behind her, she proceeded up the slight incline. The old man, the woman assisting him, hobbled forward as rapidly as he could with a badly twisted leg.
They might, Rianav thought, have had the metallurgy requisite to make a grid, but they’d missed out on medical skill. There had been a medic included in the original expedition, hadn’t there?
“You’re from the colony ship?” the old man exclaimed excitedly. “You’re orbiting? No need. See,” and he gestured to the plateau behind Rianav, “we’ve got the grid laid. You’ve only to lead the ship in.” He continued to move forward and Rianav realized that he was about to embrace her.
She backed off, saluting as a courteous way to avoid contact. “Your pardon, sir, Lieutenant Rianav of the Cruiser 218 Zaid-Dayan 43. We picked up your distress signal from the beacon—”
“Distress signal?” The old man drew himself up to a pridefully arrogant stance, his expression contemptuous. “We set no distress beacon.”
He’d been a powerful man at one time, Rianav thought objectively, but under his loose tunic, his muscles sagged, stretching the hide at its underseams. Pockets of flesh hung from his big bones.
“We were abandoned, yes. Most of our equipment smashed in a stampede. We could send no message. We’d lost all our sleds and the space shuttle. Those misbegotten, nardy high and mighty shippers never bothered their heads to come back. But we managed. We survived. We heavy-worlders do well on this planet. It’s ours. And so you forget that distress beacon. We didn’t set it. We don’t need your sort of help—You can’t rob us of what we’ve made.”
From the corner of her eye, Rianav saw Titrivell draw his stunner. The woman at the old man’s side noticed the movement and restrained him, murmuring something which cut through his angry renunciation.
“Huh? That?” He peered nearsightedly, and then his face took on a sneering look as he recognized the naked weapon. “That’s right. Come among peaceful folk with a stunner. Blast your way through us! Take all we’ve worked for these long decades. I told the others we’d never be allowed to keep Ireta. You lot always keep the prizes for yourselves, don’t you?”
“Sir, we answered a distress signal as we are required to do by space law. We will report your condition to Fleet Headquarters. In the meantime, may we offer you any medical supplies or—”
“Do you think we’d take anything from the likes of you!” The old man was spluttering with indignation. “Nothing is what we want from you! Leave us alone! We’ve survived! That’s more than the others could have done! We’ve survived. This is our world. We’ve earned it. And when—”
The woman beside him covered his mouth with her hand.
“That’s enough, Tanegli. They understand.”
The old man subsided, but as the woman turned to Rianav and Titrivell, he continued to mumble under his breath, throwing angry glances at the two spacers.
“Forgive him, Lieutenant. We bear no malice. And as you see,” her broad gesture took in the well-constructed buildings, the fields, the obviously healthy people behind her, “we do very nicely here. Thank you for coming, but there is no distress now.” She took a half-step forward, her body shielding the old man as she added, “He has delusions at his age, about rescuers and about revenge. He is bitter, but we are not. Thank you for answering the signal.”
“If you didn’t send it, then who did?” Rianav asked.
The woman shrugged. “Tardma, one of the originals, used to say that a message was sent before the stampede. But no one came. She was often contradicted.”
In her own way, the woman was as eager to be rid of them as Aygar had been. But it was also obvious to Rianav that Aygar had said nothing, at least to the woman and the old man, about the earlier encounter.
“Nothing you need from our stores? Medicine? Matrices? Do you have an operative comunit? We can request a trader to touchdown. They’re always looking for new business and a young settlement . . .” Rianav looked past Tanegli. The woman must be his daughter, for she bore a resemblance to him. The others stood back quietly, but obviously were straining to hear every word. Some of the smaller children were working their way round to get a good look at the sled.
“We’re self-sufficient, Lieutenant,” was the
adamant reply.
“No trouble with the indigenous life-forms? We’ve seen some huge—”
“This plateau is safe from the large herbivores and their predators.”
“I shall make my report accordingly.” Rianav saluted and, with a smart about-face, strode back to the sled with Titrivell.
She didn’t like having her back to the group. She could feel the tension in Titrivell, but Discipline kept her pace controlled and suppressed her urge to look behind her.
Tension showed in Portegin’s face and he shoved the canopy back hard enough for it to bounce forward again on its track. Rianav and Titrivell wasted no time climbing into the sled and were barely seated when Portegin executed a fast vertical lift and without spoken order, headed directly back over the falls.
“Every single one of those adults was bigger than we are by a third of a meter, Lieutenant,” Portegin said. His lips were dry.
“As soon as we’re out of sight behind that ridge, take a direct course to our camp, helmsman.”
“They might not have had gravity to contend with,” Titrivell remarked, “but that’s a mighty fit bunch of people.”
“They’d have to be to survive on this planet and keep their aim in mind.”
“Their aim, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, helmsman. They want to own all of this planet, not just that plateau or whatever other rights they’d possess on a shipwreck claim.”
“But they can’t do that! Can they, Lieutenant?” Portegin shifted uneasily in the pilot’s seat, clasping and reclasping the control bar with anxious, quick fingers.
“We’ll know more after we’ve made our report to the proper authorities, helmsman.”
Then it was Rianav’s turn to fidget, rubbing her fingers across her forehead because what she said sounded somehow wrong, and she couldn’t imagine why.