“Kati, Vultaire is an old Federation world. Federation doesn’t do slavery, you know that.” Marga’s tone was gentle, reasonable—and adamant.
Kati sat down on the bed and lay a protective hand on the thin body.
“Well, they can prove, then, to my satisfaction that he’s their adopted child, and not an abused slave,” she said belligerently. “Look, he doesn’t even have a node!”
She indicated the lack of the cranberry-sized lump under the left ear.
Marga peered, clearly using her node-enhanced vision to get a good look.
“Why, you’re right about that,” she said, sounding somewhat puzzled. “I don’t see why anyone would deny their child the benefit of a node.”
“I can think of one good reason why he doesn’t have one,” Kati stated. “If you don’t want a person to communicate with anyone but you, you keep him from learning other peoples’ languages. And this child is either ill or starved since he is so skinny. The others of his kind that I saw—“
The door to the common room slid open and three people burst in. The one in the lead was Londes, at his most businesslike. From her position on the bed Kati did not immediately get a good look at the two that followed him, except that they were a tall couple.
“Can you use my ESP to get a feel of those two?” she quickly subvocalized to the Granda, and the monk image at the back of her mind nodded, disappearing to ride her mental energies.
“The Exalted Vultairian Citizens, Nodras and Norah Morhinghy are here to pick up their adopted son, Kerris, who appears to have strayed from their entourage and was brought to our Office by a helpful Lamanian resident,” announced Londes in a patronizing tone of voice to all and sundry. “Let us help our Federation friends in collecting their family member, so that they can be on their way to the Space Port and home, without delay.”
“Yes,” added the man behind him. “Let us collect him. We are already late and our ship is waiting for us. We can brook no delays.”
The body under Kati’s hand shuddered at the sound of that voice, then lay completely still. Kati heard Lank draw in a ragged breath; he had noticed the shudder.
The Vultairian woman slipped around Londes and came into the bedroom which was starting to be well-populated, what with Rakil having followed behind Lank. He was standing just inside the door, his arms crossed across his chest, looking quite formidable in his Borhquan bulk. The tall, elegantly thin Vultairian woman glanced at him with some distaste, as she circled by him. He did not acknowledge her gesture in any way.
Norah Morhinghy paid more attention to Marga who stood next to Lank and Kati, looking more imposing than her small stature warranted. For a second an expression of unease flitted across the Vultairian woman’s face; then it was gone.
“Kerris doesn’t need the services of a Counsellor,” she stated flatly. “And if he does, we can provide it on Vultaire, when we get home.”
Marga merely shrugged.
The Granda was back to report.
“Those two are as arrogant as they look, and I smell rot about them besides,” The Monk subvocalized to Kati. “The others here: Lank and Rakil are with you, Mira and Logan are neutral, Londes will help the Vultairians, and Marga sits on the fence but is leaning towards you. She doesn’t much like the look of the Morhinghy couple—and who can blame her?”
The woman’s voice brought about another shudder in the body on the bed. Then it relaxed again into complete stillness, the eyes shut against Kati knew not what.
For a few seconds there was silence in the room. No-one moved or spoke, yet it was clear that the air was thick with tension.
“Well, Kati, Lank,” Londes said brightly from the door which he and the Vultairian man were filling. “Are you going to help the Exalted Citizens collect their child?”
Kati glared at Londes but said nothing. Lank, clearly taking his cue from her, stood in silence next to her.
Norah Morhinghy glanced at Marga again and licked her lips. Marga was watching her and waiting. Finally, the Vultairian woman spoke, to Kerris, in honeyed tones that rang false in Kati’s ears:
“Kerris, what the damn were you doing, running away like that?” she asked the boy in the language which Kati had learned to speak and understand on Gorsh’s slave ship shortly after she had been implanted with her node. “You know you can’t get away. We paid good money for you, and no-one is going to help you, here or anywhere else.”
It looked to Kati like she wanted to add more, but had decided that it was wiser to not speak much. Which was true; she was surrounded by noded people and it did not take such very long to pick up a new language simply by listening to it.
The boy burrowed a tiny bit deeper into the bedclothes, as if trying to get as far away from the owner of the voice as he could. Kati wanted to comfort him, to speak to him in his language, but she did not want to show her hand to the Vultairian couple yet. She did not know how the Morhinghys would react when they realized that she could understand the boy’s language, but she did suspect that they would not be happy. They were counting heavily on being the only ones with whom Kerris could communicate.
She suddenly became aware that Lank had left the bedside, while Rakil had moved closer to it, and was standing in an alert pose in which he could keep his eyes on every person in the room except for Lank, who had slipped to the desk where the room’s communications console was. From the corner of her eye she saw that he had his left thumb on the connector button—what was he up to?
“Enough time has been wasted,” Nodras Morhinghy said in commanding tones, entering the room. “Norah, let’s collect the boy and get going. Our ship awaits.”
He strode over to the bed, approaching it from the other side from Kati, clearly intending to scoop Kerris up into his arms. Rakil moved quickly to plant himself between the bed and the Vultairian man.
“Not quite so fast, Exalted Citizen,” he said in a quiet, almost bored-sounding tone. “There are some questions here. For one, can you prove that this child is your adopted son?”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you, you backwoods ape,” the Exalted Citizen replied, but obviously unwilling to test the Borhquan’s mettle or strength by trying to pass by him.
“But you do have to prove it to me,” Marga said from Kati’s side of the bed.
“But Marga,” Londes protested, “this doesn’t come under your jurisdiction. This is a matter for my Office; it has nothing to do with Mental and Emotional Health. It’s a simple matter of parents picking up their lost child.”
“Kati says that the child is way too thin, either ill or starving,” Marga told him. “If she’s right, it is a matter for Mental and Emotional Health.”
Londes turned to stare at Kati.
“What does Kati know about him?” he asked, with a hint of doubt in his voice.
“Nothing,” said Norah Morhinghy smugly. “Your Kati can’t possibly know anything about Kerris. I guarantee it.”
“Well, then you certainly don’t mind my having put in a call to the City Peace Officers,” said Lank, just as smugly, walking back from the desk. “I asked for my friend, Joaley, to be one of the team that they send. She’s very good.”
“We don’t have time for nonsense like this,” hissed Nodras Morhinghy. “Our ship is waiting. Let us have our boy and go!”
“Kerris, get up from that bed right now and come with us,” Norah Morhinghy said to the boy in his language.
His response was to dig himself a little deeper, if possible, into the bed.
“Kerris, you are going to get beaten black and blue when we get you home if you don’t start moving your ass up right now,” said Nodras to the boy, his voice betraying anger.
He was pushing it, Kati thought. One or another of the nodes in the room might be starting to pick up the language.
“I’ve sent a hurry-up call to the Peace Officers through your tracer,” the Granda subvocalized to Kati. “That should have got them moving. Two distress messages from a single lo
cation. You can let the cat out of the bag.”
“Why doesn’t you’re boy have a node?” Marga asked, directing her question to Norah. “Vultaire gets supplied with plenty of nodes. There is no need for anyone to go without.”
“His racial type cannot handle the nodes,” Norah replied, a small, triumphant smile playing across her lips.
Kati shook her head wordlessly in Marga’s direction. That gesture seemed to crack something inside Nodras Morhinghy. He gave a violent shove to Rakil in an attempt to get past him and to get to the boy on the bed.
“Look, I intend to take my property and get out of here!” he shouted. “Get out of my way you hairy Borhquan gorilla!”
The boy on the bed whimpered, curling up into a frightened ball.
Kati crooked her arm protectively around that ball.
“I’m not going to let them take you, Kerris,” she said to the boy in the one language that she knew he understood. “No way are they taking you.”
Norah stared at her, aghast. Then she turned to look at Nodras who had stopped his struggle with Rakil when he heard Kati’s words.
“Nodras, we have to get out of here and to the ship right now!” Norah cried and started to move.
She grasped Nodras’ hand as she went by him and the two of them nearly bowled over Londes as they rushed out of the bedroom, to be confronted by two City Peace Officers who were just rushing into the Common Room.
“Stop those two Vultairians!” Marga cried as she, too, ran into the Common Room.
The red-haired woman Peace Officer pulled out her stunner with a fierce grin.
“With pleasure,” she said, and shot both, Nodras first, then Norah.
She walked over to the two tall bodies after they had fallen onto the floor. She nudged Nodras with her boot and turned to look around the room.
“So what the hell did the Exalted Citizens do, to allow me to actually stun them? I’ve been praying for an excuse to do so for weeks, now, but the miserable beasts have managed to stay—just—on the right side of the law, even while creating the worst kind of ruckus wherever they have hung out.”
“They’re going to be investigated on the suspicion of keeping a slave,” replied Marga, staring at the bodies, white-faced. “To think that we have to accuse Federation citizens of something like that.”
Kati was dealing with the frightened boy. With the crisis over she realized that the boy stank; he had probably wet himself and the bed in his panic when Nodras had reached for him.
“Lank, he’s a pre-teen; maybe you better take him into the washroom for a shower and whatever else is necessary,” she murmured to the youth, with a pleading look. “I’ll try to scare up some clean clothes and bedclothes in the meantime.”
Then she switched languages and explained to Kerris that Lank, who was a good, kind fellow, would help him to clean himself. Lank listened closely to her words, and when she was finished he took hold of the boy’s arm.
“Friend,” he said to the boy. And “Take you,” pointing to the washroom door.
There was a ghost of a smile on the boy’s face as he listened to these words spoken in his own tongue. He allowed Lank to lead him across the room to the washroom.
“I’ll go and ‘scare up’ some clothes and bedding for him,” Londes said to Kati, looking somewhat shaky. “I think I can do it a lot more quickly than you could.”
“Thanks,” Kati replied with a smile, following him into the Common Room. “Then I’ll see if there’s soup or something that he can eat, but which won’t give him stomach pains if he hasn’t been fed properly for some time.”
“We’ll have to take the boy to the nearest Healing Centre,” Marga said. “I believe that there is one on the first floor of this building.”
“There is,” said Logan. “I remember going there the last time I stayed at the Transient Quarters. I was suffering from headaches that my node just couldn’t deal with. They were able to help me there.”
“I want the child to be implanted with a translation node, the sooner the better,” Marga added. “And he’ll have to be checked for evidence of abuse. For that, his lacking a node is actually good. Marks on the body don’t disappear quite as fast in the nodeless.
“By the way, I trust everyone had their nodes recording everything that happened here today?”
Kati tossed a quick query to the Granda which directed a mental snort at her. “Of course I got a record,” The Monk subvocalized. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.”
“Kati, since you can communicate with the boy, I’d like you to come with us to the Healing Centre,” Marga continued.
The City Peace Officers, one of them a male Lamanian, the other the red-haired Joaley, turned to stare at Kati as Marga spoke. They had eased the Vultairians’ comatose forms into positions in which they could be left until they awoke or were carted away, and they seemed to have communicated with their office in whatever node-assisted way they were accustomed to do so. Now they had a few moments to spare, and were paying attention to everything around them.
“I’ll go of course,“ Kati replied, her eyes on the assortment of food in the cooler which she was examining. “What here is suitable for a half-starved child to eat, does anybody know?”
Logan came over to stand by her.
“That broth,” I’d say. “There are some nutritious crackers in the next cupboard. They’ll go with the broth well, but they won’t upset even the weakest digestion.”
He pulled out the package of crackers while Kati removed a container of broth from the cooler and slipped it into the food heater to be warmed up.
“You’ve gotten handy with the heater,” Logan grinned at her.
“It’s a lot like the microwaves back home,” Kati explained. “Only with simpler controls.”
“So you’re Kati of Terra,” Joaley said boldly to her, and Kati could have sworn that there was a touch of awe in her voice. “Lank told me that he was staying in the same unit with you.”
“Yeah, Lank’s a good sort,” Kati responded, keeping her irritation to herself.
What the hell had the VidFeeds been telling the people of The Second City about her? Every now and then she had come across this: somebody recognizing her, and speaking to her in a tone of voice that suggested that she or he had come face to face with a folk hero. Kati herself had been persuaded to look at the stories that could be accessed through the communications consoles—using the nodal connector button, if one was Lamanian, or daring enough—but since Mikal had been the interview subject in the piece that she had happened upon, she had immediately turned it off. She had not wanted to watch the lover whom she was not allowed to see in person, recount the tales of their adventures on Makros III to the curious of Lamania. He was being discreet, she was certain, since the Federation Peace Officers did keep their secrets, but.... She wanted to be with him, not moon over his VidFeed image.
Joaley had the good sense to not pursue the topic.
“We’ll have to get a nodal report from you, and everyone else present, about this little incident,” she said instead, gesturing at the comatose Vultairians. “We will have to make certain that we do everything according to the regulations, since we are planning to act against Federation citizens, but if there are any grounds at all to the accusation of slavery, the Federation Peace Officer Corps will be brought in to handle the investigation.”
The door chime tinkled and Rakil stepped over to press the bar which opened it.
“It’s our colleagues who’ve come to pick these two up,” the Lamanian Peace Officer said before the door slid open.
He was right. Two more City Peace Officers arrived to quickly and efficiently remove the comatose Vultairians from the premises.
Lank and Kerris came into Common Room while the Peace Officers were finishing up their record-collecting. Kerris was dressed in a standard-issue bathrobe much too big for him, and he was allowing Lank to lead him by an arm. Kati gestured to the dishes on the table, and Lank brought his cha
rge there, first grabbing a thin but soft cushion from a shelf and laying it on the hard seat of the dinette. The boy sat down on it cautiously, but at Kati’s urging dug into the broth and crackers hungrily.
“He’s going to have to see a Healer,” Lank said to Marga who had come stand by him. “I’m not sure what exactly has been done to him, but his buttocks are a mess.”
He gave his head an angry shake.
“That Morhinghy man threatened to beat him black and blue once they got home, if he didn’t get up off the bed, just before I let on that I could understand Kerris’ speech,” Kati said, gritting her teeth. “I imagine that it wouldn’t have been the first time.”
“I certainly want you at the Healing Centre when I take the boy there,” Marga stated.
“And I want your node to decant the past hours’ events into this,” Joaley said, bringing a small, gadget with a connector button on it to Kati. “You do know how to do this? You’ve done it before, right?”
“Yeah,” Kati answered, “although, truth to tell, I don’t like it. But The Old Monk in my head knows what he’s doing, which is what matters, I think.”
“An old monk? That’s an interesting personification. I’d heard that the Granda nodes can do that,” Joaley said, as she laid the instrument in front of Kati, pointing to the connector button. “And I’m a Wilder, too, so I understand your qualms. They do, eventually, more or less fade away.”
“Yeah, yeah,” muttered The Monk in Kati’s mind, “I know. Every detail since we walked into the Common Room.”
She pressed her left thumb on the nodal connector button and grimaced as the image of The Monk directed a garden hose down her left arm and into her thumb. Something ephemeral was drawn out of her through that hose; by now she understood that it was a copy of the information required. The original remained safely stored within her mind, jealously guarded by her node. When she had downloaded her report from the Drowned Planet, the Lamanian helping her explained that the nodes hung on stubbornly to information; that was why the Grandas were such storehouses of knowledge. Nevertheless, the process still felt, unpleasantly, like her insides were being sucked out through her thumb.
On Assignment to the Planet of the Exalted Page 4
