by Sharon Rose
“How did you survive?” Hrndl asked.
“When I neared my home airport, multiple storms were forming in the area. I was in a range of small mountains, with no safer place to land. These little hoppers need a smooth runway. In this case, a leveled-off strip on the mountaintop.”
Hrndl nodded.
“When I approached the runway,” Antony said, “the clouds were so thick, it looked like night, with lightening ground strikes everywhere. The wind was slinging rain sideways. My passenger was three times my age, but even more terrified than I was.”
Antony shook his head and inhaled. “But I got the plane pointed into the wind and landed it. The airport controller had told me to get us both out the instant we stopped, so we jerked our doors open and jumped out. My feet no sooner hit the pavement, than the wind lifted the plane right up off the runway, flipped it over, and slammed it down about ten meters away.”
Kena pressed a hand to her chest and whispered, “Oh, my!”
“Yeah. That’s the last thing I remember for a while, ’cause I fainted.” He glanced around his rapt audience. If the Grfdn thought fainting was pathetic, they didn’t show it. “I was told later that my passenger scooped me off the runway and dashed into the building. I woke up sopping wet, and my passenger was huddled in a chair, shaking.”
Antony spread his hands. “So, you see, navigating around tra-pentazine is pretty tame compared to all that.”
Kena laughed. “I have to admit, there’s no wind or lightning.”
“At least,” Hrndl said, rising from her place at the table, “we can provide a more powerful landing craft. Shall we walk?”
Antony and Kena accompanied her and Dhgnr to the outer ring hallway, which proved an active place. So many crew members greeted Kena with a pleasant word or two, Antony squelched his protective instinct and left her side open for them.
Dhgnr drew near him. “Walk ahead with me, Antony.”
They lengthened their strides and gained partial privacy.
“I wish to know something,” Dhgnr said. “It would be strictly taboo among Grfdn. I’m not sure how to determine what I may ask a Human.”
“Ah. You ask, with the understanding that I may decline to answer.”
“Acceptable,” Dhgnr said, keeping his voice quiet. “Are you and Kena engaged in whatever form of courtship Humans employ?”
“Interesting question,” Antony said, playing for time. “Do you ask on Hrndl’s behalf?”
“Not at her request, though she is also curious. She considers asking Kena.”
They strode in silence for several paces, then Antony said, “There is no simple answer to your question. The decision to marry flows from friendship that has matured into a permanent, committed form of love. Kena’s and my friendship has deepened, but she is reluctant to, uh, move beyond that while her commitment to Pernanyen clouds the future.” When Dhgnr frowned, Antony added, “I think Kena would be annoyed if people started asking about…the depth or future of our relationship.”
“I see. We do not wish to annoy her.”
Now there was an opening Antony wouldn’t let slip by. “If that’s the case,” he said, “you should return to using your native drinking pouches.”
After a couple more paces, Dhgnr’s voice fell to a faint rumble. “It’s because I don’t want her annoyed, that I have removed them.”
“The pouches never bothered her,” Antony said. “My mistake did. Every time she watches you sip from a glass, you remind her. And me. I can tolerate the insult, but I don’t like seeing her repeatedly chafed.”
Dhgnr turned his head to stare at Antony. “What insult?”
“Apparently, you think I’m either too stupid or too crass to learn from my mistakes.”
As the ladies drew closer to them again, Dhgnr said, “That interpretation had not occurred to me.” He continued a little louder. “Which of our craft do you prefer for atmospheric flights?”
Good subject change. “The raepour in strong winds, the raeglid in calm weather.”
“The raepour, beyond doubt,” Hrndl said. “The winds rage on that planet.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ghent entered his consult room from his private quarters and opened the other door to Hrndl and Netlyn. He used the moment of settling around the table to study them. Hrndl looked as she always did, but Netlyn’s eyes drooped.
He set his half-finished drink aside, then altered the image displayed above his computer to show the planet’s composition data. “We still can’t get better detail on the benzlium content?”
“Not yet,” Netlyn said. “The largest deposit is on the far side and just now coming back into view. Jorlit and I will have our teams on it all night. The ice layer is not as deep as we expected. The equatorial basins are filling.”
“Water?” Ghent asked.
She nodded. “I still think we’ll need to make a decision without full data. We’re on a fast approach. There are limits to what we can discover.”
“Yes, I know. Piert and his team are deciding on thresholds for the key indicators. If we meet them, we’ll come into orbit. If not, we continue.”
“That should keep the emotional aspect of the decision down,” Hrndl said. “We had plenty of that today.”
No surprise. “How are the navigators responding after the issue with Kena?” Ghent asked.
“Generally supportive of her,” Hrndl said, “without actually talking about the incident.”
As good as could be expected. He reached for his carved stone mug, his shurg snapping out to wrap the indentation. “Kena’s course design with the planet fly-by indicates that she’s still performing well.”
Hrndl frowned at the table.
“Do you have a different view?” Ghent asked.
“We came very close to missing that course. If I hadn’t demanded it, we never would have seen it.”
Ghent frowned. “She’s holding back?” Disappointing.
“I don’t think she wants to. It’s more frustration and confusion. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about this yet, Netlyn. Kena told me she suggested that course from the beginning, but you told her not to pursue it. So, she didn’t.”
“I did order her to focus on the debris clusters.”
Hrndl inclined her head. “With the result that she felt ordered to not utilize her skills. That is not our goal.”
“If I can never give her an order contrary to her own desires, then I will never know whether she will obey me.”
“You’ve done so now,” Hrndl said. “She complied, even though it made her very tense. Are you convinced?”
“I am, at this moment.” Netlyn squirmed in her chair. “But I do think she should repeat that experience, now and then.”
Hrndl paused. “Find ways to phrase your orders so that she can follow them first, but still be allowed leeway for her skills. This will enable her to obey you many times over, without frustrating her.”
“I will work toward that.” Netlyn let a sigh escape.
“You’re tired, aren’t you, from splitting your sleep cycle.” Hrndl spoke gently. “Go get some rest.”
After the door closed behind Netlyn, Hrndl said, “I am…concerned.”
He sipped his tea. “How did Kena perform after the course was selected?”
“Her performance is good. That’s not what I mean. There is something about the course she designed this morning, as well as the course she laid out for Antony in nav command yesterday.” Hrndl stared at the table before meeting his eyes again. “According to her, they are different from her previous designs. She could not explain the difference but seemed to…greatly wish that she could.”
“What, exactly, worries you?”
“I’m missing something, but I don’t know what.”
“It appears,” Ghent said, “that Kena now has two techniques we don’t understand, instead of just one. The end result is the same. Since her courses are vetted, just like everyone else’s, I don’t see a cause for
concern…with that.” He shifted his shoulders. “But I do see another.”
Hrndl’s mobile brows lowered. “What?”
“Brilliance is a rarity. You’re getting a taste of it early in your first officer position.”
She nodded.
“I’ve seen this before,” he said. “The treasure comes with pitfalls as big as the benefits. I remember a Veet scientist on the first ship I was assigned to. He was a true genius, but he stopped accepting ideas from anyone else and insisted on full control. His superiors did nothing to check him. He destroyed the science team on that ship and lost his position.” Ghent lowered his mug, stone striking stone. “We cannot let Kena become the single deciding voice.”
Hrndl stared at nothing for a moment. “I don’t think she wants to.”
“Not consciously, perhaps. However, other navigators may get the impression that their work is irrelevant and grow disinterested or sloppy. Kena could become so accustomed to producing the best course, she will resist all other options.”
Hrndl nodded. “I can see the danger to other navigators and will guard against it. In a way, Kena did that this morning, for she created no competing course to the three developed by her team.”
Hrndl continued to frown, so he waited for her next comment.
She shook her head. “I just can’t imagine Kena in the role you described, not when I consider her time with us. I’ve seen her design courses…and defend their advantages, to a reasonable degree. But I’ve also seen her walk away, undisturbed, when another’s course was selected.”
“True. Yet excessive confidence develops over time. And we have now seen her adamant over her last two courses.”
“Yes, but those two—there is something different about them that caused her to behave so.”
Ghent leaned on his folded arms. “If this new technique drives Kena’s future designs, are you willing to let her insist that only her courses be implemented?”
“No. Nor do I wish to discard the best options.” Hrndl drew a vibrating breath. “Command is proving to be an awkward balancing act.”
He smiled and nodded. “It is.”
Hrndl gave him a Plynteth-style nod, told him which navigators were atmosphere-qualified, then left.
Ghent strolled to the false railing and stared across the canyon image. Kena. So much swirled around her. He needed her most for bringing about peace with the PitKreelaundun. The uncertainty of that disturbed him. There was nothing he could do about it at this moment, but he wanted her calm and focused on the correct goal. For an instant, he considered removing her from navigation. No. Stifling her energy would madden her.
Besides, they needed her navigational skills, and she always kept her teams effective. So strange that she showed symptoms of going rogue.
Hrndl was too inexperienced to see the danger. Or perhaps the depth of her friendship with Kena interfered. A wry smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. As though he didn’t love Kena, too.
He focused on a distant cascade as he remembered their first link and the symbolism she had used. Her quiet care for him as she’d guided him through such a disconcerting and enlightening experience. If anyone understood the love embedded in friendship, it was Kena. And her love had sharpened his. For that very reason, he wouldn’t let her amazing abilities mislead her into leaping with a proverbial waterfall. He would restrain her from danger, even if she resisted him.
Kena leaned back in the corner of her sofa, with her feet tucked beneath her. Antony turned partway toward her, as much as his guitar allowed, and played a simple melody. The walls of her sitting room portrayed twilight falling over the lake. In the soft light, the shadow of Antony’s beard darkened. The man must have some serious stubble in the morning.
“It’s getting late,” she said. “Thanks for playing my favorite oldies.”
“A pleasure, my dear.”
“I sometimes wonder…Do these old songs still disturb you?”
“Not as they did.”
A bit of a non-answer, that. What did he mean? Some, but not as much? Was he mourning Mary’s death? Still angry with God? She longed to know but was determined not to ask.
“I’ll play one more,” he said. “Which would you like to remember in your sleep?”
Should she request the song she missed? He hadn’t offered it since the first day he’d played for her. “Well…if you don’t mind…These Thousand Hills.”
He smiled. “Join me, then.”
Her heart lifted with the music. She dwelt in the moment, enjoying the rise and fall of each verse. The majesty of nature amid the hope of her beloved’s promise. Until the final verse called out the coming storm.
Such a short line, but even its promise of dawn couldn’t gild the image that jumped to her mind’s eye. The roiling underside of a dark cloud. Ominous bulges reached for thrashing trees below. The hair on her arms stood up like lightening had charged the air. The same warning she’d glimpsed all those weeks ago, but now tenfold. Imminent. Then, the chorus swept the threat away and soothed her.
When the final chords died, Antony took her hand for a moment and squeezed her fingertips. “Sleep well, Kena.”
How softly he said her name when they were alone. “G’night,” she murmured.
He left her, perhaps sensing her need for quiet.
Though, in reality, it wasn’t quiet she sought. It was her beloved’s presence, his embrace vital after the past couple days. Peace infused her. Even a raging storm seemed inconsequential. Whatever it was, it wasn’t now. He was now. She rested in Him, read a little, then found herself pacing. Not easy in her quarters.
Something was wrong with their course. Not dangerous, but inadequate. Yes, in a vague way, she’d already known that and intended to check it in the morning. Still, she could use a walk.
She made her way to astro section. Much quieter than during first shift, though several navs were compiling scans. Kena went to a console and checked the results of their work. She held her lower lip between her teeth. Still inconclusive. How were they ever going to make a decision? She stared at the planet on the main display, with a line marking their course. One of the navs advanced the barren, mottled world through its rotation and orbit, as he and the others discussed how to get more data on a specific area.
Two thin, glowing lines diverged from the yellow path of the Ontrevay’s course. One down to the planet, and the other back up to rejoin the primary course. Except, those lines weren’t really there. Now, what?
No direct words came to her, just a knowing. They wouldn’t get adequate data from space. They needed to go to the surface. Kena sighed. Could the raepour craft accelerate ahead of the Ontrevay, land at a benzlium deposit for an on-site verification, then return—at top speed—to rejoin the Ontrevay?
Kena plotted the course and calculated timing. Yes, with a maximum of eighty minutes on the surface. Time enough to set up a portable depth scanner and get clear readings.
She rested her chin on her hand and stared at her plan. What if something went wrong? The weather was chaotic. That could delay takeoff. Still, the raepour packed a lot of power. Worst case: They’d find inadequate benzlium for the Ontrevay to stop, and then miss their rendezvous with the Ontrevay. They would need to follow the ship until it decelerated near the debris clusters. A delay for two navigators, but not a disaster.
So, what should she do with this? Kena checked Hrndl’s status. Sleep. Hm. Departure was ten hours out. Maybe the landing wouldn’t even be necessary if Netlyn got better information overnight. Kena sent a note to Hrndl, specifying delivery when she became available in the morning.
At last, a gentle release. She’d better get to bed. No telling what difficulties the morning would bring.
Chapter Thirty-Four
TarKeen straightened his spine as the door of his quarters slid open. Leonfir entered, and a guard stepped forward to set a food container inside, then withdrew.
Leonfir waited for the door to close. “How are you, TarKeen?”
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“Fine.”
“Do you think I am a guard, performing the daily check and food delivery? How are you?”
“Physically, I am well. I suppose I could complain of boredom, if you are looking for something more negative.”
“Boredom does not account for your rigid expression.” Leonfir’s tone edged nearer to command. “How are you?”
TarKeen allowed a slight shift in his spine. “Devastated. I hope that answer suffices, because I have no desire to describe my emotions.”
Leonfir pursed his full lips. “Do you need to link?”
“No.”
“ShenLee also refuses telepathic contact, but of course it’s not truly necessary, yet.”
TarKeen swallowed. “Who provides her care?”
“YefRon.”
A relief. TarKeen acknowledged with a nod, for Leonfir still watched him.
“He tells me her tissue regeneration is successful. New muscle and skin have formed. The foundational muscle structure is adequate to briefly support her standing weight. Her leg must be braced for walking, and feeling is partially restricted to minimize pain. She could be released from the medical facility, except that she needs assistance. She has no family on this ship and must be confined until her role in VanDar’s mutiny is judged.”
“She may stay with me.”
“I will convey your offer to her. Is there anything unrelated to the mutiny that you wish to know?”
A concession. TarKeen released a breath. “I assume the representative of Shennasee has arrived. Who is it?”
“Jenarsig.”
“Is he still hiding his identity from Ghent and Kena?”
“Not at all. Which brings us to business of the triad that we must discuss.”
Another positive indicator. Leonfir still considered him an active member of the triad.