Escape from the Drowned Planet

by Helena Puumala

  “So I’m worried sick about her,” he muttered into Wayfarer’s ear as they raced along. “And I’m seriously annoyed with her at the same time.

  “We’ll just have to get to her in time. Anything else is simply unthinkable.”

  Wayfarer turned its head a fraction of a centimetre, just enough to sneak a quick glance at its rider, then it inclined its head for a second, as if nodding in response to his words. The whole time it ran along at a blistering pace, knifing through the sand that Jess’s mount was kicking up.

  *****

  Duk was already regretting the necessity that had forced him to use the whip on Mokri. The Narra was running fast all right, but with an uneven gait that made riding uncomfortable. Clearly it was angry with its rider and wanting revenge for the painful crack of the whip. The worst thing was that the animal’s bouncing motion would be using up its energy faster than a smooth run would have, and thus all of Duk’s hopes of outrunning the pursuers were slowly seeping into the sand.

  “This beast of mine has become uncontrollable,” he shouted to Cob, behind him. “We’re going to have to make a stand and fight those jerks chasing us. Pass the word on.”

  “That frigging Duk!” Cas shouted to Lek who passed him the message. “He can’t handle Narra! He’s always fighting with his mounts, and that gets us into trouble!”

  Still fuming, he shouted the gang-leader’s words to the man behind him. He did not like the idea of a hand-to-hand combat in the middle of the desert any more than Duk did. However, he had recognized it as a possibility ever since he and Lek had failed to lead the Caravanners’ Narra away from the campground. People who crossed the desert travelled in groups for good reasons, and one of those was to defend themselves against just the sort of a raid that he and his companions had staged. The men from the Caravan were coming after them, to take back the kidnapped woman; of course they were. If, as apparently was the case, something had alerted them early, and with their Narra handy, of course they were giving quick chase. If they caught and managed to overpower the kidnappers before these reached their home village, the pursuers would not have to negotiate the return of the nightlady with the Elders of the Village who, even if they disapproved of what Duk’s gang had done, would never let pass by an opportunity to make some gains at the expense of strangers.

  Duk meanwhile was thinking about the trail ahead. Where was the best place to make a stand? It would have to be nearby; he could not hope to keep riding Mokri much longer. The trouble was that there was no shelter in the desert, no place to hide and ambush their pursuers. They would have to pick the best ground available, and wait for the Caravanners; then take them on, and fight them man-to-man. At least there were only six of them, so his gang had the advantage. Besides, the Caravanners were generally peace-loving folk and did not like to inflict pain on others. Duk grinned to himself as he thought of that, and of the knife he carried in his boot. He and his men had no qualms about shedding some blood. He personally did not even mind the thought that his knife might leave behind corpses. Not that he was a cold-blooded killer, he told himself, no Descendant of the Children of the Survivors was, ever, that. Not even the poor relatives that the folk of MuddyWater and YellowWater were, to the rest of the herders. But if somebody died in a fair fight, that was not his problem. Besides, he knew perfectly well, that it was this cavalier attitude towards life that had won him the leadership of the gang with which he had been running since before he was a teen. He was ruthless, so he got things done, and the other gang members respected that.

  They had begun to climb up a long slope which ended in a hill that he knew began to slope down the other way almost immediately. The top of the hill would give his men the high ground; there was the place to stop and make their stand. The Caravanners would have to climb up to them in a single file, or else ride into the sand surrounding the trail to attack them all at once. Hah! It ought to be child’s play to unNarra them all, and force them to face the gang’s knives in the desert sand! He started to look forward to the fight. It would be a pleasant physical exertion, and make a superb tale to tell later over a mugful at the local Alehouse!

  *****

  “They’re stopping at the top of that hill.”

  Yarm was whispering to his mount to get it to slow down, and eventually to stop, just beneath the hill in question. Within moments his companions had stopped also, surrounding him and his mount, although this meant that some of the riding beasts were knee-deep in the sand. The animals did not seem to mind; they were looking about with interest and alertness.

  “I guess they’ve decided to fight us,” Jess said with a giggle, looking up at the group up on the hill.

  “By their lights, that’s a good position they’ve chosen,” Yarm commented. “If the odds were what they think they are, they’d have a good chance of making a mess of us, indeed. It’s hard to charge uphill and have the momentum to do damage to your opponent. And since they outnumber us, they’d have that edge, too.”

  “Fortunately we have a bit of an off-world edge on our side,” said Matto, grinning broadly. “This is going to be ridiculously easy, three of us stunning them while they wait for us to climb up to them.”

  “Don’t overestimate the ease, Matto,” Yarm warned him. “There’s a bundled up young woman among them and we want to be sure to get her back unhurt. So try to not warn those louts of what’s in store for them. You don’t want to give some of them a chance to take off with Kati, and force us to continue the chase.”

  “How are we going to do this?” Jocan asked. “Obviously Mikal, Matto and I have to be in the forefront with the stunners, but we have to make it look like we’re just trying to rush them and knock them off their mounts.”

  “Once we’re close enough, I think we better spread out and trust the Narra’s ability to negotiate through a bit of sand,” Yarm said thoughtfully. “We all ride towards them and the three with the stunners pick targets and shoot, then each one picks another target and gets that. Then, of the three with the stunners, whichever two are the closest to the last two conscious men will get in a third shot. After that we can all get into the act of rescuing Kati, and figuring out what to do with eight stunned men and their mounts.”

  “I am so looking forward to this,” crowed Matto.

  Mikal said nothing. He merely checked his stunner to make sure that it was fully charged, even though he well knew that it was. So were the stunners Jocan and Matto had; he had checked them the night before, just to make sure. Each of the stunners contained a very efficient photovoltaic cell which replenished any charge that had been used up, when left open to sunlight for a short time. On a desert trek, therefore, it was easy to ensure that they were operable.

  “Well, let’s get moving again,” Yarm said. “We’ll arc out onto the sand when we get to within about fifty metres of them. Then we’ll see if they have the patience to hold their ground on that hill, or will some of them start charging down at us.”

  “And if they start coming down, we shoot, right?” Jocan said, a little nervously.

  “You’ll be paired with me, Jocan,” Yarm explained kindly, for a hundredth time, it seemed. “Any guy comes towards me or you, you stun them. Mikal’s paired with Jess and Matto with Cay. The man with the stunner protects the one he is paired with first and foremost—besides himself, of course. That way we work quickly and efficiently.”

  “And if they don’t start coming down we start shooting at about fifteen paces,” Matto said, checking the charge level on the stunner he was carrying—Kati’s stunner.

  “I’ll give the word to start shooting,” Yarm told him. “Wait for my word. Don’t start before I give the go-ahead. We want to make the most of the surprise.”

  He drew a breath.

  “And just in case something unexpected goes wrong somehow, and I’m out of the picture one way or another, Mikal takes over.” He sounded deadly serious. “If something happens to me don’t lose control. Mikal is my second, and he is a very capable prof
essional. He’ll take over, and he’ll say what needs to be said, and does what has to be done.”

  Even Matto paled a little bit at these words. They punctuated the notion that what they were doing was not a game, but serious business. The louts they were going to face had a reputation, as Yarm knew from having talked with the Town Elders of GreenWater two nights ago, for being careless with human lives. That information had made him glad that Kati had come up with her plan, and a way to make it work, thanks to Sany’s participation. The scheme had offered the best chance, in so far as he could see, of taking the gang members out before they had an opportunity to start wielding their sharp knives.

  They continued riding up the hill until they were at the prearranged distance from the summit where the gang members were watching them, and shouting insults about their opponents’ (lack of) masculinity. Every now and then a raucous burst of laughter emanated from among them and carried down to the group below.

  “Those assholes,” Jess muttered heatedly as he followed Yarm’s instructions as to where to move his Narra.

  Mikal beside him touched his shoulder and shushed him.

  “Don’t let them get to you,” he whispered. “That crap talk is meant to get our goat, and piss us off into attacking prematurely. Just close your ears to it, and concentrate on what we’re doing.”

  Wayfarer was stepping prettily in the sand and Mikal, again, was reminded of the fact that the Narra were, indeed, born to roam in conditions such as these. A glance told him that Jess’s mount was feeling just as perky, and the other animals in the group also seemed to be enjoying themselves. He stifled a quick grin as the thought came to him that the beasts appeared to be thrilled to be doing something more difficult than loping along a caravan trail. Maybe it was possible for Narra to suffer from boredom.

  The Narra climbed up the hillside at a steady pace. Yarm and Jocan were in the middle, more or less following the trail as it headed for the summit. Matto and Cay were on their left, their mounts highstepping gracefully through the sand. Mikal and Jess were on the right: Jess eager and excited, and terribly young, Mikal thought; Mikal wary, watching the group on the hill with mistrustful eyes.

  “Hey Duk! What d’you think? I could ride down and cut the balls off a few of those guys!” someone on the hill shouted. “If they have any!”

  “No need for that, Lut,” another voice answered. “They’re coming up here to get their balls cut off, as it is!”

  The words were followed by a burst of raucous laughter.

  *****

  Kati had been listening to the rude comments that Duk’s gang members were making, holding onto her temper very tenuously. She was furious at the louts for the raw venom of their talk, and just as furious with her inability to do anything to impede them, and to help her rescuers. Even though all she could see when she opened her eyes (which she did not like to do because it made her nauseous) were Narra legs, her node was managing to ride her PSI faculties and keep her posted on what was going on around her. Thus, she was aware when the gang stopped at the top of the hill to await her rescuers, and knew that they had shunted the Narra she was on aside, and now it was standing a little ways off from the others, alone, partly forgotten.

  “A lovely bit of work I am,” she subvocalized to the granda grouchily. “Psychic, possessor of a granda node, and here I am, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, unable to do a thing to help myself or the fellows who are coming to try to rescue me!”

  “Well,” the granda countered mildly enough, “that’s the whole point, now, isn’t it? You can’t be bait, if you don’t look like bait, and act like bait.”

  “Yeah but, the bait has done its job. The louts fell for it. Now I’d like to play a different role and help damage the guys who tied me up, just a little bit.”

  “A sentiment that I can relate to,” the node subvocalized and Kati had a sudden deep misgiving. She should not be encouraging the granda’s destructive streak; there was too much potential for trouble down that path. She drew a breath and made a heroic effort to calm herself.

  She allowed the granda to feed her all the information it had gathered using her PSI powers, and was able to put together a picture of what was going on. The eight louts on their mounts were facing downwards from the top of the hill, yelling insults at the six who were approaching them at a slow, steady pace. The Narra of the approaching men were radiating the joy of having been given the opportunity to perform an important and challenging task, while the mounts of the group on the hill were giving off a sense of exhaustion, except for Duk’s animal which was still furious at the ill-treatment to which it had so recently been subjected. The emotional tone emanating from the six challengers was a mixture of excitement, enthusiasm, calm determination and confidence. She did not try to sort the feelings as to who was giving off what, but it was not difficult to guess that it was the younger men who were excited, and Yarm and Mikal at the calmer end of the spectrum. She did not sample the psychic tone of the summit much; even a small taste threatened to bring her anger to boil again. The gang members were radiating arrogance; clearly they thought that they had the upper hand in any altercation to come, and if they did serious damage to the men approaching them, so much the better. That surprised Kati, and she spent a moment puzzling about it. The Descendants of the Children of the Survivors were supposed to be peace-loving folk; hurting other humans or animals was something they treated as anathema. Yet, these louts were delighting in the thought of doing harm to the men who were riding up towards them. She was terribly glad that her rescuers had three fully-charged stunners among them. Those stunners would flip the odds in their favour, and the louts did not know that they existed.

  Perhaps she could help her rescuers a little bit by encouraging Mokri’s annoyance with Duk. The thought gave her a burst of energy; maybe she could actually accomplish something useful in spite of her difficult position! She approached the Narra’s consciousness once again; the beast was already familiar with her mental touch, from her earlier attempts to slow its pace, and welcomed her as a friend. She performed the psychic stroking that she had done earlier, and Mokri responded with enthusiasm, just as it had before. It was clear to Kati that Duk did not pet his mount or offer it sweet words, except for those intended to get it moving. Narra loved to receive endearments from their riders. With such, a rider could persuade a mount to do almost anything within its power. How could Duk not know that? How could he be so dense? She gave herself a mental shake, and suddenly realized that Mokri was following her thoughts.

  “Dense. Man is dense.” The Narra seemed to repeat the notion, and suffused it with anger and frustration. Obviously Mokri would have loved to have had a good working relationship with his rider; the inability to relate was all on Duk’s side.

  “Let’s have a little fun, my friend. Let’s see if you can unseat the dense man. Think you can throw him off your back?”

  “Fun. Fun to throw man off my back.” Kati could have sworn that the Narra gave a mental chuckle.

  *****

  “What the bloody blazes...?”

  Abruptly Duk found himself struggling to stay in his saddle while Mokri seemed to have gone mad. It arched its sinuous back so that for a moment Duk was perched high up, then it quickly lowered it almost to the level of the sand so that he fell down into his saddle, his legs pumping into the dune beneath him. Thank heavens he had knees that bent! Then the Narra did it again, up and down, this time shaking its body violently at the same time, so that Duk was able to hang on only through sheer luck.

  “It’s getting you back for whipping it, Duk!” Cob was shouting at him from beside him.

  “Friggin’ lousy timing!” Duk shouted back and then he found himself face down in the sand.

  Mokri was standing over him, nipping at his neck. He flailed at the Narra with one arm and tried to lever himself up with the other one. It was hard, however, to push off the shifting sand with one hand and Mokri seemed to have decided to be a real pain and stayed ab
ove him, insistently nipping at his nape and the hair on his head, pushing him down with its head.

  He heard Lut give a surprised yell, then Cob was shouting:

  “What are they doing to us? What’s happening?”

  Cob sounded scared and Cob was never afraid. Duk tried to get up to see what was going on but Mokri would not let him. The last thing he heard was a calm voice:

  “Jocan. Come and stun this one that the Narra is keeping on the ground. He’s the last of them. Once he’s out we’re done.”

  *****

  Of course, in spite of Yarm’s assertion, the rescuers were not finished with the stunning of the last of the “desert louts”. With the physical danger of being attacked by the gang gone, they could attend to other necessary tasks. The first and foremost among these was the untying of Kati and releasing her from what looked like a very uncomfortable position, lying face down across the back of a Narra. Everyone in the group would have gladly helped her but Yarm turned the job to Mikal and Jocan, her travelling companions of long standing, while he and the other three started to feed and water the riding beasts of the gang, since they were showing the results of having been ridden long into the night. The Narra which had thrown its rider and then refused to let him get up out of the sand seemed the liveliest of the bunch. It kept glancing in Kati’s direction, stamping one front foot on the sand, looking impatient. It did accept a couple of handfuls of grain and a bowl of water from Yarm, the whole time watching Mikal and Jocan help Kati out of her bindings.