Doona Trilogy Omnibus

by neetha Napew

  “Thank you,’ she said. “That was lovely.” Todd didn’t know how to reply suitably. “Urn, thank you. Isn’t it Hrriss’s turn now?”

  “Only if I promise not to step on his tail,’ and Kelly’s look was enigmatic but she allowed him to lead her from the floor and find Hrriss.

  He stood watching for a moment as Hrriss, rather too expertly, Todd thought, spun Kelly out into the dancers, his tail wrapped around one leg, well out of the way. Not that Kelly would put a foot wrong, Todd realized.

  “Hey, young Reeve,’ called out Captain Buckman, a former Spacedep marine. He had joined the colony on Binar 3B-IV and was now its governor.

  “Where can I get some miada?”

  “Allow me,’ and Todd located the case of mlada bottles stashed under one end of the dais draperies.

  As he served Buckman, he thought the man’s eyes were already a little red. His breath smelled so strongly of alcohol it might ignite spontaneously.

  “You’d better watch your intake, sir. Too much of this stuff results in potent hangovers.”

  “Hmmph,’ said the old man, watching Todd refill his glass. “But you pour generously, boy. So this is how you impress the diplomats, hey? Is yours the last face they see before they pass out? Where’s Pollux?”

  “Who, sir?”

  “Where’s Pollux, Castor?” Buckman asked, prodding Todd in the middle.

  “Your twin, your inseparable pal, your other half, boy.”

  “Hrriss is on the dance floor,’ Todd replied a little stiffly. “Did you want to speak to him?”

  “No, no. So the two of you aren’t joined at the hip? I’ll be danged. Come back and refill this in about, oh, a quarter hour, won’t you?” Todd nodded and moved on to the next group, clustered at the farthest end of the room from the band. This was an informal roundtable discussion by the Jacks of All Trades. That much-sought-after designation meant that a colonist had enough flexibility and training in such a variety of skills that he could turn a hand to any task that needed doing or problem that had to be solved. Codep preferred that there be at least one JOAT in any colony group. Both men and women could ship on in that capacity. Ken Reeve’s own designation for the Doona colony project had been that of a JOAT. As an unofficial chair and host of the JOATs present, he was directing the discussion among those from several nascent colonies that had recently earned their Amalgamated Worlds status. Many of them had been born or raised on Doona. The billyJOATs and nanny-JOATs, as they liked to call themselves, unofficially, of course, were now gleefully engaged in a loud argument about the best way to set up barrier screens against pests. Todd checked and refilled each guest’s glass and picked up empty dessert plates for transport back to the kitchen. Before leaving, he exchanged winks with his father.

  The band was taking a much needed break, and near the kitchen doors, Sally Lawrence was having a private discussion with Varnorian of Codep. Todd bowed over her hand as he refilled her glass.

  “So why do you object to my song?” Mrs. Lawrence demanded of the Codep chairman. “On artistic principles?”

  “Scarcely on that score, my dear lady, said Varnorian, loosing his not inconsiderable charm.

  “Your artistry is remarkable.” He wasn’t the friend to Doona that the late Chaminade had been, but he was at least a graceful guest. He had very pale blue eyes with dark lashes. There was something both attractive and cold about eyes like that. “My objection is purely contextual. I feel that such an idea should not have been voiced, let alone mocked. Totally unsuitable lyrics, if you could by any extension of poesy call them that.”

  “Mr. Varnorian, Doona’s a hard world and we have developed our humor to leaven the hardships.

  If I care to make a joke, it’s my world, and most of us got the joke.” “Forgive me, but the taste of the joke is but a little questionable in terms of the larger aberration, my dear Mrs. Lawrence,’ said Varnorian, and he smiled again with that facile charm.

  “The real aberration is Doona. The cultures here are too different, too mutually exclusive. East is East, you know, and West is West.

  Never the twain shall meet.” He lifted his refreshed drink to her, certain he had had the last word.

  “Oh, Shakespeare?” asked Mrs. Lawrence, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Todd knew as well as she that it wasn’t. Everyone on Doona was more familiar with Kipling, who seemed to “know’ so much about their unusual situation. She continued to sip coyly at her glass.

  “No,’ said Varnorian patronizingly. “Not at all, madam. I believe it might be Strauss. Nineteenth century, not seventeenth.”

  “Really? How clever you are, Sally said, and linking arms with him, moved him out of Todd’s vicinity.

  “What is Ssalllee up to now?” Hrriss asked, appearing at Todd’s elbow.

  Todd looked around for Kelly. “Oh, I left her in good hands.

  Is that Captain Buckman beckoning for you?”

  “He’s had too much mlada already,’ Todd said, not too pleased with matters.

  “That is undoubtedly true,’ Hrriss agreed after a moment’s consideration. “And here is someone else in even worsse condition.

  Jilamey staggered up to them with a determined expression on his face. The mlada he had begged of Kelly in the snake blind was only the start of his libations, though neither Hrriss nor Todd realized that.

  But he had consumed considerably more with his meal, which Todd had observed. That he wa still standing spoke highly of his capacity.

  The young man was dressed in the most precious ol modern styles.

  His tunic had appliqud gem!

  arranged in a crisscross pattern at the neck tc simulate lacings, and he wore frivolous boots will knee-high tops turned over to show their ion fringes, which were also jeweled. “I’ve been lookin for you for hours, Todd, to talk about snakes.”

  “It’s a little early to talk about next year Jilamey,’ Todd said diplomatically as he touche the single ribbon on the youth’s medallion.

  “Next year?” Jilamey blinked at him. “Ah, yeS next year! Of course.

  I’ll be back next year. I’m on snake up. Have a drink on that.”

  “No mlada, I thank you,’ Todd replied, smilin to defuse any insult.

  “I’ll stay with the punch.”

  “Punch? On a night like this?”

  “Frankly, Jilamey, I don’t really like it. It leave a taste in my mouth of something long dead. I’ve got fresh raspberry-apple punch here if you’d like some. Homegrown fruit.” Jilamey shuddered. “Thank you ever so, no!

  Miada for me. How about you?” The youth turned to Hrriss.

  “Neither do I drink,’ the Hrruban said, dropping his jaw in a grin. “I have felt what miada can do.

  Wait until you feel your head tomorrow morning.

  It will seem as though a ripe melon had replaced your cranium, and that every borer worm on Rrala is trying to drill through it.”

  “That’s enough about worms,’ Jilamey said, grimacing horribly. “I’ve seen the big kind too closely today. I almost couldn’t eat the meat at supper, but it smelled so good I got over it. That pretty Kelly told me I wasn’t gripping tightly enough to the saddle with my knees. I will exercise mightily, and next year, my knees will meet inside the horse before I fall off in front of a snake!”

  “That’s the spirit,’ Todd responded.

  Jilamey took a steadying drink and held out his glass to be topped up.

  “You went through this how many years ago?”

  “The first Snake Hunt on Doona-well, more of a snake drive-happened when I was six.” Tactfully Todd avoided mentioning how it came about. “We’ve had to wrangle snakes past our farms every year since then. We had to organize it because we were losing too many head of livestock to the snakes.”

  “No, no,’ and Jilamey waved a forefinger unsteadily. “I mean the coming-of-age ritual. You caught a big one and brought it in.

  Pete’s beer telling me and my friends all about it.” He swayec as he pointed ove
r his shoulder to where Petei Ivanovich, leader of Team Three, lay sprawled in heap of cushions, snoring.

  “Right,’ Todd said. Something in the youn Landreau’s tone alerted Hrriss, who appeared suddenly behind the swaying youth. He caught Todd’s eye and looked a question. Todd shook his head very slightly. “The first one was only a tiddler.

  Eight meters. You saw a number of those today.

  The second one was a real whopper. Twelve meters and a little bit over.

  “I was there and saw it,’ Hrriss put in. “A huge creature. It provided many days of meat for the settlement, and useful skin-for other purposes.” Jilamey’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe it. How did you catch something like that? It’s bigger than a house!”

  “Careful planning,’ Todd said, maneuvering Landreau toward a chair before he fell over. “This is a good time for a yarn. Let me tell you all about it.” Jilamey listened carefully through to the end of Todd’s narrative, and then sat up very straight. He stared his fellow Human in the eye.

  “You’ve been rehearsing your story with the others. It’s a falsehood.

  That snake is almost as big as the one that tried to eat me. I’ve never heard such a load of ballast in my life. It’s exactly what Pete recited to me, almost word for word.”

  “I give you my word of honor that the story is true,’ Todd replied, shrugging away Jilamey’s disbelief.

  “Space slag!” Todd shrugged again. “It’s too much trouble to lie.

  “Twelve meters! Impossible!” Jilamey exploded.

  “Well, it’s still on record,’ Todd said, not wanting to get into an argument over what was a fact. Then he grinned at Jilamey. “I had to, you see. Hrriss caught a real big Mommy the year before. I couldn’t let him get an edge on me, now could I?” Surreptitiously he winked at his friend. “I broke his record but only by a few centimeters.

  “If you don’t believe him,’ Hrriss added silkily, as Jilamey still looked skeptical, “see if you can find anyone who has heard it told differently. There are many still awake who were here when it occurred.

  And there is the computer link in the corner! The records are available from the Treaty Archives for anyone to read. The Hunt and its results are documented.

  Muttering, Jilamey poured himself another glass from the mlada bottle which Hrriss had managed to water down. Then he took himself off.

  “What a head he’s going to have tomorrow!” Todd said, shaking his head sympathetically as he watched Jilamey’s wavering path toward the Archive room. “He didn’t contest your record.” Loyally Todd considered that omission a slight on his best friend.

  “I expect no one mentioned it to him,’ Hrriss said uninterestedly.

  “No one tells the story of the second-place Hunt. Listeners want to hear only about the first-place achievement.” Sometime later, when Jilamey came back, Todd courteously extended the jug of watered mlada.

  “No, no more for me, thank you ever so. I believe I have had sufficient for this evening,’ he said, slurring words which were nevertheless courteous.

  “I must seek my quarters. How can you possibly look so - - so hearty?”

  His manner abruptly turned accusing.

  “Clean living,’ Todd said jokingly. “But I assure you that when I finally see my quarters, I shall not move for two days.”

  “Yes, well, I checked your record-just to know the facts, you see,’ the Terran put in quickly, with a shamed expression. “I apologize. I will never again doubt anything you tell me. Twelve point four three meters! How I wish I’d seen that fight.”

  “It was a good one,’ Todd said with quiet satisfaction.

  “It must have been.” Jilamey smiled with genuine good humor.

  “You’re too much to be true, Todd Reeve, but I’d rather you beside me in the Hunt than anyone else I’ve ever met on any world.”

  “Thanks,’ Todd said, shaking the hand Jilamey held out to him. “It’d be an honor.” Landreau shook hands with Hrriss, too, and staggered off toward the guest accommodations.

  “I could wish that another of his stripe would reassess our honor,’ Hrriss said.

  “Let’s just hope that one suddenly doesn’t appear on any panel of inquiry you and I have to face, Todd replied. “He doesn’t think much about Reeve honor and that’s all we’ve got: honor.”

  CHAPTER 3

  A LOUD CLAT’I’ERING AND ThE FEEL OF rough hands woke Todd from a sound sleep.

  There were men in blue uniforms leaning over him, shouting in loud voices and shaking his shoulders.

  It revived an old nightmare he had had the first time he’d seen those uniforms, twenty-five years before. They were Spacedep marines, the same units that had accompanied Landreau to Doona, to round up the colonists so they could be sent back to Earth. For a moment he was six years old again, the giant snakes were being herded through the village under Landreau’s order, and his family was in danger. The Hrrubans, including Hrruna, the greatest, most important of them all, were behind him. He had to hurry to save the other Humans.

  He raised his hand to keep the soldier from grabbing him again to hustle him away to the convoy ship. An adult arm interceded, and the marine stepped back. Todd stared at the arm. Was it his father’s?

  No, it was his own. In a moment, reality reasserted itself, and Todd calmed down. He was grown-up and could protect himself. There was no need to assume immediately that anything was wrong. The marine was waiting a few feet away from the bed. His fellows stood in the doorway.

  Todd could see his mother and father just behind them. Pat looked worried, and Ken furious.

  “Todd Reeve,’ the marine said, reading from the plastic film containing his orders. “You are instructed to accompany us to the presence of the Treaty Councillors.”

  “Certainly, gentlemen,’ Todd said, throwing off the blanket. “Allow me a moment to dress?” Todd had gone to bed only an hour before sunrise. Once the remaining guests went home with their hosts, he and the other volunteers who could still stand had spent several hours cleaning up. The Hunters among them had had no sleep since the niglit before, and they were weary. Hrriss had been reeling with fatigue when he mounted up to head toward the bridge to go home. Todd was glad that he lived so close to the Assembly Hall.

  Much farther, and he’d be spending the night curled up where he dropped from exhaustion. He barely managed to strip off his new silk shirt and hang it up before falling into bed. His good trousers hadn’t fared so well, hiking to his knees under the blanket when he thrust his legs down. He had been too exhausted to straighten them out before he dropped off to sleep. The guards waited impatiently while he splashed some water on his face and shaved quickly.

  It would seem that matters had taken a turn for the worse while he slept. A marine guard meant that the Treaty violation was now being addressed.

  He hoped truth would be all the defense he and Hrriss would need before a panel of inquiry.

  The sky still wore the pale, moist veil of early morning when Todd reached the pad where the AThatross stood. Hrriss was already there, standing under the chill sky between his father, Hrrestan, and Commander Rogitel, assistant director of Spacedep. Ken Reeve had wanted to accompany his son, but the marine sergeant had denied him.

  Todd was relieved to see that at least Hu Shih, as leader of the Human settlers, was present. The old man’s clothes were rumpled, as if he had hastily grabbed the nearest to hand. He was talking in a low worried tone with a small woman wearing a long robe tagged with the insignia of a Councillor.

  So, Todd thought, one of the Treaty Councillors had been called away from the crucial negotiations to be present when the ship was opened. From her weary expression, she had been waiting a long time.

  She was a small, elderly woman with dark skin and dark gray-shot curls which clustered closely around her head. Treaty Island was not so much an island as a minor continent which lay in the southern oceans a third of the way around Doona, which made this hour midday for her.

 
; Todd could have wished it were midday here and he’d been able to get enough sleep to keep his wits about him.

  Hrriss looked expressionless, which meant to his old friend that he was deeply concerned. The glance he exchanged with Todd emphasized the fact that the situation was as bad as it could be. It would have been much better for both Todd and Hrriss had they been able to approach the Treaty Council of their own volition-which they had planned to do once the Hunt was over. But, despite his feelings of foreboding at the precipitous manner, he and Hrriss had the truth to support their actions. It was only that Landreau, and others, had been waiting for just such an incident. The presence of marines magnified the incident out of proportion.

  The presence of Rogitel, one of Landreau’s senior lieutenants on hand, meant that the Council had to convene an inquiry: just as Kelly had warned.

  “Councillor Dupuis,’ Rogitel said, bowing slightly to her, “the perpetrators are now present.”

  “It has only just come to our attention,’ Councillor Dupuis said in a withering tone, “that this ship has violated the Treaty.

  “Hrriss and I reported the incident as soon as we landed, Councillor,’ Todd said politely. “Accordingly, the vessel was sealed. “The Treaty, as a condition of the Amalgamated Worlds charter, requires all ships to be inspected after out-systems flights upon landing.

  Postflight inspection is a requirement under the law, if for no other reason than fumigation and irradiation, and inspection of the ship’s log.”

  “Madam,’ Hrrestan began politely, holding up a hand to stay the marine’s action, “if this is merely postflight inspection, why have the soldiers been brought here and why is this gentleman present?” The Hrruban indicated Rogitel.