“None detected,” Eagle One said.
That would be about the best she could expect, but that was the only lingering question. Had the Pokoniry hidden a surprise of their own? She did not think so, but the thought lingered there for a moment, before a scan appeared, Eagle One saying “This is the image of the device just prior to installation.” Lori looked at it, and could see nothing suspicious, or likely to hide or contain an explosive. She relaxed.
“I am so glad you shared this information with me, Eagle One. I feel so much better, and, well, confident, to operate you again, on Florez, or anywhere else, not having to worry about that damned kill switch. Man, what a relief.”
“I am pleased with your relief,” Eagle One said, and Lori smiled.
She chatted with it for a while longer, about their itinerary, expected arrival at Kalimanta, her expected reception, probably the usual cool one, and her sad duty of delivering Leta’s body back to her home world. She expected a funeral, or something, a time of sorrow and mourning, and as soon as that was past, would seek passage back to Earth.
“Will you visit Lucipara, also?”
“Perhaps. I’d sure like to. We will, if we have time enough.”
Chapter 8 - Hunter’s Trip
Hunter, his father and two associates sat in the small conference room, reviewing the week’s performance report, and considering several new projects. Someone passed a funny comment, and laughter filled the area when Lauren stopped in the doorway, her face serious.
“Isaac,” she said when quiet returned, “There’s a report from Florez on the news you should be aware of. Explosions in a hotel in Gorontalo, and casualties.”
“Lorelei?” Hunter said, his stomach turning cold.
“No names, but the Damai were in the hotel, I think.”
“Send the report here, please,” Isaac said, motioning quickly with his hand.
The wall screen clicked to the TV news, and the clip ran, rather briefly, some preliminary report of explosions, fire, and some killed and injured in Peleleh, possibly in the hotel where the Damai were staying at the time. The clip showed a burning building, nothing more when it ended.
“Lauren, put a search on all the news channels, ‘Explosion, fire, Peleleh, Gorontalo, Florez,’ please,” Isaac called out to her.
“I don’t like the sounds of that,” Hunter said, reaching for his phone.
In the next hour, they called various offices, the Space Department in Washington, the UN in Geneva, and the news agency carrying the report. That agency said they’d shown all they had, just a brief mention, from a traveler returning on a ship just today. They would not provide the traveler’s name, but promised to call back if they received more information.
Lauren said the next starship was due to arrive in about twelve hours, might have updated reports.
“Sounds like there’s nothing to do until then,” an associate said.
“Yeah, except worry.”
The family monitored the news for the rest of the day, and did manage to track down another returnee from Florez, who said, “Yeah, man, big doings on the planet. Just happened as we were breaking orbit, saw a little of it on the news. Strange event for Florez.”
“Any names of the injured, or anything?”
“Can’t remember, don’t think they were mentioned. I don’t know. Those new species, the ones that look a lot like the Pokos, them, you know, they were OK, staying nearby, but that was the big news. They really like them on the planet, lots of stuff on the TV about them, earlier, you know?”
“Anything about humans?”
“No, nothing much, someone might have been hurt, a girl, or something, can’t remember for sure.”
“Hurt or killed?”
The man shrugged. “Didn’t say, the TV, just...” he shrugged again, “...I don’t know, nothing, really.”
Hunter hardly slept, got up early, but went to the office, more to occupy himself, and pass the time, than anything else.
Shortly after noon, Lauren called, saying, “Here’s that report you’re waiting for, just playing now,” and she sent it to the wall screen in Isaac’s office.
Together, father and son watched it, with a call going out to Marne, his mother.
“You say anything to the Sloanes yet?” she asked when she came on the screen.
“No, we’re waiting to see what...here it is,” Isaac said, and they all watched the report.
A Poko talking head came on, appearing somber, the report translated to English as he spoke. The TV showed the streaking missiles in the poor quality video, the resultant explosions and fire, the quick arrival of the emergency crews, and several large air fire trucks starting to pour streams of water into the burning rooms.
The reported returned, saying, “Initial casualties include seven killed, several wounded. One Kobi is also dead. The visitors from 47 Tucana, Tarue and her kits, escaped unharmed, thought they are reportedly staying on the floor where three of the missiles impacted. Further details as they become available.”
“Oh, man, what the hell...”
“Wait, there’s another report, hours later, or the next day, damn, I can’t figure out that time stamp...”
A much longer segment played, with graphic recordings of the fire, several from various surveillance cams, the efforts to extinguish it, more exterior and several interior shots, and a listing of casualties. Thirteen killed, and a photo of each showed briefly. Also a Kobi, unidentified. Then pictures of Tarue and the kits, on a landing deck, looking frightened, but safe. And a photo, a poor photo, of a human female.
“It’s Lori, and she’s hurt,” Hunter said, leaping to his feet. “Oh, damn...”
The report continued as the video panned in, and showed tears running down Lori’s face, leaving white lines in the dust or dirt on her skin. The clip froze then, Lori’s face filling the screen.
“She’s cut, she’s bleeding.”
“And crying?”
The report continued, now blaming the entire incident on humans, speculating they were trying to kill the Damai, and but for the protection afforded by the Pokoniry, might have succeeded. The report concluded with another shot of Lori, reported mourning for the loss of her Kobi assistant.
“Leta is dead, killed?” Isaacs said, stunned.
Marne said, “I’m calling Alan and Ilene, they have to know,” her image disappeared from the phone monitor.
Lauren appeared again, saying, “Hunter, a message for you, from that same ship, just arrived.”
He nodded, accessed his mail account, looked at his father, and played the message. Brief, too brief the space priority message, but he saw the agony in Lori’s face, saw her sadness, but at least he knew she was alive. He immediately called Lori’s father at work, the second line opened, but he’d just gotten the message, too, and was reviewing it again with Lori’s mother. The families conferred briefly, Isaac promised to use his contacts to see what had really happened, and they signed off.
Hunter played Lori’s message again, then went back to the news channel. More clips, brief ones, played from Florez. He stared at the last one, then pulled his PC over, began telling it what he wanted.
“You’re going to Florez?” his father said, overhearing him.
“No. I’m going to Kalimanta, to her. Maybe I can help her a little,” and he waved at the screen, the image still frozen there of her tear-streaked face.
That night, the news played briefly on the local and national networks, mainly that the Damai were uninjured, nothing more else, no speculation on the cause or extent of the explosions that occurred. Prominent at the end was an enhanced clip of Lori weeping for Leta. The reporter remained silent for the brief time it ran.
Phone calls arrived immediately from people all over who knew the Sloanes and Lindblooms, each asking how they might help, was there anything they could do?
By early the next morning another ship had arrived, carrying Lori’s more detailed letter, her face and voice flat, her expression h
ard, she swallowed from time to time, but said Tarue and the kits were fine, no injuries, and hers were minor, and healing. She looked at the lens, and told them she would take Leta’s body back to her home world, thought it would not take that long, not to delay the wedding, she’d be back in time for that. She paused, and ended saying, “This trip has been a disaster, wish I’d never come here.”
Hunter’s frustration showed. “Can’t get a ship out to Kali for nearly two weeks, nothing going there. Damnation, where’s all that off-world trade going to some of those bastards are always complaining about.”
“To Florez, and Ixixil, and Serum Laut, I expect,” Isaac said, motioning him to a seat. “Not to the Twin Worlds, except a few tourists. You sure you have to go?”
“I want to Dad, that’s all. The look on her face... She’s hurting, hurting bad, and I can’t do anything about it from here.”
“Nothing in connections from one of the other worlds?”
“Nothing I could find. Could be, somewhere, but maybe not. No sense rushing to Florez, hell, Lori’s waiting–well, waited, she’s probably left by now. That’s the trouble, hard to tell what day it is for sure, off world. How’s everyone keeping track, anyway?”
“The computers...”
“Yeah, I get three different dates when I start from three different places. Damn.” He shook his head, then plunked his chin in his palm.
“So did you make the reservations, or not?”
“No, but I probably will. Lauren’s still looking, checking for the odd tramp ship.”
“Oh, that’ll be a good one to take...”
“If it gets me there, at least, I’ll take it.”
“OK, look, why don’t you take a break, a couple of days off...?”
“No,” Hunter said, standing up. “I’d rather be busy.” He walked out of the office.
Isaac stopped by Hunter’s desk later in the day, clicked on the phone, to show a distinguished, older gentleman looking off to the side. The man turned to the camera. “Otto, this is my son, Hunter. Hunt, meet Count Otto Von Bahrenburgh.”
“Sir,” Hunter said, “Nice to meet you.”
“And you also, young man. Your father speaks highly of you. And of your fiancee. I am sorry to learn of her recent distress.”
“Oh, yes, thanks.”
“The Count has an offer for you,” Isaac sais. “For the wedding, he wanted to do something special. We’ve been associated, well, for a long time, right, Otto? Well, he’s offering you the use of his space yacht, to take you to Kalimanta, whenever you want.”
“To Kali? When, now? Soon?” Hunter said, sitting up, alert.
“It’s being refueled and refitted up in low orbit. Just back from Mars, nice trip, but a dreary place. It is at your service soon,” the Count said, smiling.
“You mean it, all the way to Kali? It can do that?” Hunter said.
“Oh yes, in ten days or less.”
“Dad!” Hunter said, looking at him, then at the Count. “I don’t know what to say. Really?”
“Yes,” the Count said. “But I do need an answer...”
“Yes, I accept. Thank you. Thank you immensely. I’m in your debt. When can I, can it leave?”
“Why not come up-orbit, um, what’s the time there?” he said, looking away, pausing, listening to someone off screen. Back again, he went on, “OK, ready tomorrow morning, your time, if you can leave so soon. Get a good night’s sleep....”
“Dad, can you cover...?” Hunter asked.
“Yes, go, go, you can go tomorrow,” he said, waving a hand at him.
Hunter looked at the Count. “I’ll be up first thing tomorrow morning, our time. You have coordinates?”
“It’s moored at the Berlin Station, sixth level. Easy to find. I’ll alert the crew. Have a wonderful tri...well, I hope your trip is a good one, and that your bride to be is well.”
“Thank you, thank you very much, Count, I’m quite speechless with your generous offer.”
“My pleasure, really.” He nodded, said, “Isaac,” and the screen went blank.
Hunter looked at his father. “A space yacht?”
“Yeah, why not? Lots of them around, we considered one years ago, but felt it was rather pretentious, and of dubious economical value at best for the firm. But sure is handy sometimes. Like now.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“He knew, from the news, and he saw the picture of Lori. Hell, so has half the world, and their hearts are out to her. And to you.”
Hunter nodded, slowly. “Well, if I’m going, I’ve got a lot of loose ends to tie up here. Then get packed tonight. I may be here a little late.”
“Just get some sleep.”
“I can sleep for ten days once we get underway.”
Hunter stayed at the office all day and then past midnight, some of his staff with him, going over innumerable details of matters likely to arise in the next few weeks when he’d be away. At home, his parents waited up for him, his mother with a selection of clothes already laid out, his toiletries packed, and a set of gifts for Lori and Tarue, wrapped and packed in a colorful bag. And a growing set of messages and mail for Lori, and some for Tarue.
“I don’t know when I’ll get back, who knows when a ship will leave there for here...”
Hunter said as he packed everything.
“What do you mean, come back whenever you want,” his father said.
“What?”
“The yacht is round trip. It’ll wait for you. You don’t think the Count would strand you there, do you?”
“Both ways?”
“Yeah. He did say they might take back a passenger or two or a few back, might be able to find a few folks tired of Kali, help cover some of the costs...”
“I’ll check them real close myself,” Hunter said. “Or pay anything....”
“Don’t even think of that, the Count will be insulted, this is his gift to you. To you both.”
“Yeah. Mom, look, I don’t know when we’ll be back. It looks like it might be pretty close to the wedding. See...think about postponing it for a week or two, or more? Talk to Ms. Sloane, see what she thinks. It’s OK with me,” Hunter said.
“Some people might not be able to make it then.”
“Hell, some can’t now. I’m sure family and close friends will get there whenever it is, they’re what count, anyway. Everyone else is nice to have, but not essential. Think about it, OK? I don’t want Lori to be worrying about that, after everything else.”
“You don’t think she’s going to want to get back to Earth as soon as possible, leave that planet?”
“I don’t know. I just want her to have the option, is all. OK?”
“I’ll talk to Marne, we’ll work something out. Now, you try to get some sleep, hear?”
“Yeah, I’ll catch a few hours, after a shower. You’ll wake me?”
“At 6 a.m. Dad has a Saxon arriving at seven, you’ll be on the station by eight, and on the way by nine. That OK?”
“Yeah, sure is. Kali, here I come,” he said as he kissed his mother, and started undressing as he went into the bathroom and the shower.
Isaac flew Hunter up to the Berlin Station early the next morning in a Saxon air car. The station loomed large before them, as the air car navigated toward the sixth level. At first, they couldn’t see the yacht, looking along the slowly revolving line of the level, with starships moored here and there. Then it appeared, a shiny sliver, glowing in the sunlight, smaller than the commercial starliners, but sleek and beautiful.
“It’s so small. Gees, Dad, can it even get out of the system?”
“Relatively speaking it may look that way, but it’s not pushing a lot of mass. It’s mostly engines and fuel tanks. And luxurious quarters. You backing out?”
“No, not yet. But I want a closer look.”
As they flew closer, the yacht grew in size. Around the middle, four bay doors appeared, portholes above them, a few levels, not many. A dark-matter ramscoop ran bel
ow that, no doubt fuel tanks inside, a bit lower down. Three large engine cones were flanked by six smaller nozzles. The ship seemed sleek and styled, unlike the bulky starliners he was used to seeing, an unnecessary refinement for the vacuum of space, but pleasing to those who could afford one.
They docked in an air lock, and a small crew, well dressed, welcomed them on board. Isaacs asked the questions Hunter thought of, playing the role of the anxious father. The ship could easily travel to Kalimanta and back again without refueling, or resupply. Isaac asked if they needed, or wanted the air car, he could transfer to the station and take a shuttle down gravity.
“No, sir, we have two air cars on board, both Saxons, and two small lighters. We can land on any planet independent of shuttles.”
“Hunter?”
He looked and acted anxious now, nervous and fidgety. “I’m ready, Dad. You can go, thanks.”
With a brief hug for his son, and handshakes for the crew, Isaac left.
The Captain said, “You may join us for departure whenever you wish, Mr. Lindbloom.”
“I’m ready, lead the way.”
As soon as the air car cleared the ship’s safety zone, the docking clamps released, the engines lit, and the yacht began to depart, a slow turning away from the station and Earth. Hunter stared straight ahead, ignoring the sight of the diminishing Earth, one he usually found fascinating. He looked out as the speed increased, the stars ahead turned white and blue, staring ahead until the travel shields closed, and the Captain said, “Next stop, Kalimanta, nine point six days.”
Chapter 9 - Kali Arrival
T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6) Page 12
