by neetha Napew
Kris had remained behind, her hand insufficiently healed for her to be useful on the voyage . . . especially when so many, like Raisha and other space-trained women pilots, deserved the chance. Truth to tell, she was tired from late nights and long sessions of translating.
And then Mitford had asked for and got the land vehicle for his scouting teams. She’d be much more use familiarizing herself with that piece of machinery than being a supernumerary on a space flight.
They should be back by now, shouldn’t they?” she asked Mitford, as they were storing their equipment on the land-sea vehicle, nicknamed the Tub. When Zainal returned Mitford was planning a trip, with himself as leader, to cross the channel that separated this continent from its nearest neighbour. He was combining two teams for the project, and happier than Kris had seen him since he handed debriefing newcomers to Peter Easley.
a
j: ‘Yeah, in fact they’re three days overdue. But the destruction went off okay. You know that.” The link between the old transport’s bridge and the KDL was open and all the mounting hysteria orders and counter-orders, as the propulsion system ‘failed’ - had been duly followed by those on the ground . . . including the final bang.
So that part had gone well.
The Deski sentries were ordered to keep their ears wide open since their senses were trusted far more than the obsolete and erratic detection system on the ‘bridge’ in the hangar.
Kris accompanied Mitford when they did a check on the Catteni prison valley and found them alive, but certainly not making any move to ‘settle’ in.
“No initiative,’ Mitford muttered to Kris. ‘Just like Zainal said. Not even that pair of Drassi captains.” These seemed to be concentrating on a small space of dirt in front of them, but neither moved.
“Chess?” Kris asked, for they had that sort of concentration about them.
“Chess?” Mitford regarded her with surprise. ‘They haven’t the wits for checkers, much less chess.” ‘Well, there’s someone trying to fish,’ Kris said, pointing to the one man poised over the stream with a thin lance in his hand.
“So he is. Even Catteni get tired of those dry rations,’ he said and turned away.
Yuri Palit, in his authority as head of Resettlement, had gone to check the Turs and came back with the information that they had already made a few shelters, chopping down the lodge-pole trees. There also seemed to be several wounded lying in the sun: broken legs and arms, and one with raw wounds visible down his side.
“Trying to climb out?” asked Astrid.
“How stubborn can Turs be?” Yuri Palit asked of Mitford.
The sergeant shrugged. ‘Damned stubborn. Leave ‘em alone.”
“And let them ruin that lovely valley?” Kris demanded.
Mitford jerked his head towards the photos that adorned his back wall,
those showing the other closed valleys Zainal had seen
on his way in. ‘There are others as well as the other continents.”
“Now, about them . . .”Astrid began.
Mitford held up one hand, grinning at the tall attractive Swede.
“Gotta wait until Zainal checks us out on the amphibian.” Which reminded everyone that the KDL was now six days overdue. Kris tried to appear unconcerned but possible disaster scenarios kept her awake most nights.
“What could have happened?” Astrid asked the morning of the seventh day. ‘Surely they should be returning now?” ‘That bang wasn’t for real,’ said Mitford, avoiding Kris’s eyes, but speaking as positively as if he had consummate faith in Zainal’s return.
“There’ll be a good reason, I’m positive,’ Kris said so firmly that Mitford shot her a quick look.
.%
“Yeah, there would be kid. I just can’t imagine what.” ‘Asteroids, some technical difficulty, or operational problem, there could be dozens of good reasons.”
“Yeah.”
“It would be a good idea for him to get in touch, either, and give it all away since the ship’s been destroyed and that damned satellite would catch any message he sent.” ‘You’re right there,’ Mitford acknowledged and then went to do something else.
“New satellite,’ Zainal told them as soon as the hatch opened to the crowd waiting so anxiously. ‘We go . . .” and he gestured a circuitous course. He looked for and found Kris at the side of the hatch. ‘Lenvec’s work.” He dropped down beside her, touching her cheek just briefly as the rest of the space-farers exited, exultant in their shouts to the welcoming committee.
The biggest smile was on Scott’s face as he came down the ramp with Beverly, Rastancil and what were now being called the High Command following closely.
“Mitford, Easley,’ Scott called out, and added other names,
‘meeting at 19.30 at Narrow. Beggs,’ and now the officious lieutenant Kris disliked so came running up to meet him, clipboard in hand. ‘I want all these men and women to make that meeting if humanly possible . . .” And he continued giving orders while proceeding to the nearest air-cushion vehicle and gesturing for it to take off towards Camp Narrow.
Zainal, taking Kris by the arm, steered her off to one side, away from the general jubilation around the hatch.
“Lenvec got them to put up a more powerful satellite spy?” she asked.
“Someone did. We had to time its orbits to sneak back in.
KDL is very good at glide.”
“You glided? From where?”
Zainal grinned at her astonishment. ‘Not hard. Your space shuttles did it. Catteni still better space jockeys.” ‘Jockeys?” Kris had to admit to herself that she didn’t like him picking up slang from other sources. And she severely curbed her reaction.
“Bert brought her down. (food man, Bert. Now, where can she hide?” And Zainal frowned over that problem.
Kris looked up the field at the hulk still sitting there. ‘Put it there. They expect a wreck in that place. How much detail will the satellite be able to make out down here on the surface? The name glyphs?” Zainal began to chuckle. ‘Why not? The KDL masses more, but not that much more.” ‘Hiding it right out in sight always confuses a searcher,’ Kris said.
Scott will agree?”
Kris shrugged. ‘That thing’s too big to fit in any garage except maybe the one we can’t get into at the seaside. Who will come looking for it? You had us all excited, listening to orders and counter-orders and all the hysterics . . .” Zainal chuckled louder now, his yellowy eyes reflecting his laughter, most un-Catteni-ish.
“And if you guys avoided the satellite’s eyes on the way in, surely we’ve succeeded in deceiving them.” ‘Some one of your wise men said once,’ and he tipped his head back a moment, recalling the exact words which he carefully enunciated, ‘that you can fool most of the people part of the time, but not all of the people all of the time.”
]She had to smile at him, he looked so pleased with remembering the apt quote. And she was so pleased he was back, safe.
“You think Lenvec is that vindictive?” ‘Not think. I know. When I was chosen . . .” He paused briefly and then went on, ‘I was given privileges the chosen have, Lenvec was . . . jealous. If he is now to take my place as chosen, he will feel like he got robbed.” He gave her a sideways glance, to see her reaction to his slang, and she grinned at him. He was also speaking with a less guttural tone to the English words.
Soon his accent would be indistinguishable from a native-born speaker.
“Hmmm, yes, if he’s the jealous type he would feel robbed. But maybe he’s been . . . chosen already. How much of him is left in the Eosi?” Zainal nodded his head slowly over that point. ‘I do not know that. Fortunately,’ and now he put his cheek down against hers, holding her tightly, ‘I was dropped and I stay.”
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Kris was not the only one who thought of leaving the KDL right out in the open. An artistically scorched glyph took the bright new KDL-45’s place, but there were actually no other options, even if they could find a Farmer facility big
enough to house it.
The ship was not just a trophy, gathering dust, although how it would be used was yet to be decided. Scott had approved Phase Two but who knew if the admiral, who seemed to have taken charge of the military aspect of the High Command, felt they should attempt Phase Three.
The KDL settled itself on the wreck, compressing its empty shell.
The Deski sentries would give enough advance warning of any landings .
. . should other transports be sent here . . . so that she could lift and settle down a few fields over, and camouflaged from casual inspection. The Catteni rarely looked around during the process of hauling out their passengers and what supplies accompanied them. A certain risk was taken, but Scott had come to agree with Zainal’s assessment of the Drassi: do as little work as possible and get back to base.
“You know someone might just think it was odd that there have been three ships blown up in this area,’ Leon Dane remarked at the end of the final debriefing, ‘and decide it isn’t worth visiting this sector of the vast Eosi-Catteni empire, and leave us alone.” ‘I doubt that,’ Easley said with a sad grin. ‘According to the latest arrivals, Earth’s resistance is growing and the Catteni are still taking anybody they think might be saboteurs and ringleaders into custody. We had a troop of Sea Scouts in the last group, and all they were doing was holding their monthly meeting. We may end up with more of Earth’s population here . . . and wherever else they’ve been dumped . . . than on good old Terra Firma.”
‘If we can maintain a good fresh start
approach on Botany and ditch the attitudes that made trouble back on good old Terra Firma,’ Mitford said, with good reason to doubt the ability of people to forget ingrained intolerance and bigotry.
Serving time in the stocks right now were three men and a woman who had revived an old prejudice in an hour-long brawl.
The injured would serve their sentences when they had sufficiently recovered. ‘The more people we get in, the more trouble we acquire.” “We’ve got four continents . . . well, two, if we leave the Farmers theirs,’ Leon said. ‘There’s enough space for everyone, isn’t there?”
“For some types, there’s never enough space,’ Sarah said.
“Too right,’ Dane agreed, exhaling tiredly.
Once the excitement of procuring and hiding the KDL calmed down, Scott and others of the High Command, military branch spent hours debriefing the latest arrivals from Earth, trying to figure out what had happened from reports which were necessarily incomplete. Not much news was broadcast any more in a world which had had twenty-four-hour news bulletin coverage.
“Disasters every time of the day or night,’ Kris had said.
“Do they do that on Catten or Barevi?” Sarah had asked Zainal when they were all sitting around their table after the evening meal in Narrow.
“Tell everyone everything? No,’ and Zainal chuckled at the notion. His grey hair had grown so long now that he was wearing it in a pony-tail, a style that suited him better than most.
Kris had offered to braid it - Amerind fashion, as she did her now much longer hair- but he had declined. ‘Only need-to-know is told.” Then he gave a shrug. ‘And evenings of lies about new worlds and brave Catten.”
“Recruiting?”
Zainal considered the word, squeezing Kris’s hand to indicate he was going to figure that one out himself. ‘Yes, to join spacearmy.” He got a thumb’s-up for accuracy from the others at the table, their scouting partners and those from Astrid’s six-strong team.
They spent a lot of time together, learning how to drive the amphibious machine so that anyone could. The mechanics had been all over it, too, familiarizing themselves with its equipment, engines, systems, communications and life-support. While Mitford was ranked a senior in the High Command Committee now governing the settlers, he still had to get ‘proper clearance’ to take such a valuable piece of machinery. He also needed Scott’s clearance to take Zainal away when he might just be needed.
For something, any damned thing, rather than let us function as a team,’ Mitford had ranted the previous night. They’ve got both bridges manned, and the KDL working off solar power, and we still have the Deski perimeter listeners, so little can sneak up on us down here. If they really needed him, Marrucci could fly over in one of those atmosphere planes now that he’s learned how not to kill himself in it.
And it doesn’t leave the sort of trail visible to the spy sat.” Zainal wasn’t exactly reassuring on that count because he didn’t know exactly how sophisticated the new satellite was, just that it was on a full global orbit, checking the surface of the world once every thirty-four hours. He was positive that the reconditioned air-cushion Farmer vehicles would not show up on the satellite since they ran on solar power. The amphibious vehicle might possibly be visible - since it was no longer supposed to exist - so he had plotted a course and they would move only when the satellite was at another point around Botany’s globe. It might take slightly longer to reach the coast but once in the water, he thought that the Tub would be undetectable since water would not only cool its exterior but mask its emissions.
Kris’s hand was still slightly red but her feet had healed, even if she
was careful to keep a layer of fluff as an insole. And she
dearly wanted to leave Camp Narrow for Mitford’s sake as well as Zainal’s. She tried to convince herself it was just the wanderitch that made her restless because she didn’t think she had a trace of precognition in her, but she did very much want to leave.
To go explore the neighbour continent.
Fully accustomed now to its new form, Eosi Mentat Ix was bored.
It had returned to pleasures that its weakening husk had been unable to perform, and now these no longer satisfied its seeking for unusual experiences. The form had been relatively circumscribed, not having had the training of the young originally chosen from that Bloodline.
That was when it remembered the animosity and bitterness of the
Catteni mind when it had been subsumed. And Ix accessed the memories.
A brief exploration would discover if the entity’s suspicions had been valid. Ix was somewhat startled to discover that a more powerful satellite had been put in position around the subject planet. The entity’s traces grew alarmed within the Mentat as the most recent report was mentally gleaned from those on duty.
The scout ship had disappeared, and no trace of it been found anywhere in Eosi space: it had not refuelled at any station, planetary or space. Nor could the satellite find that sort of metal shape on the subject planet. The matter of the wreck of the transport was resolved by the interchange of communications between the KDL and the downed ship. The KDL, the newest of the transport fleet, had taken off after discharging its cargo and been tracked out of that solar system . . .
by both satellites.
And the tape of its final emergency and explosion was on record.
Ix carefully reviewed that tape, the details of the final moments of the ship’s life and the efforts of the crew to remedy the fault. It also reviewed the fault in the light of the KDL’s sister ships now coming on line, and found that such a backsurge in the propulsion was indeed a possibility, however improbable.
The Eosi Mentat ordered a search for the log of the KDL which should be found in the space debris. It was. Within the tiny fraction of Ix’s great mentality, an infinitesimal scream insisted that such events were suspicious.
Ix screened the orbiting satellite’s records and found only the wreck that had been left where it had landed. Then Eosi Mentat Ix was called to a meeting of its peers, to determine what must be done with the increasing problems experienced by Catteni occupying forces on the latest planet they had subjugated. Such continued resistance was unique, even bizarre, and the Ix was caught up in deciding what punitive measures to take that would completely solve this problem.
However, all Eosi found themselves rather fascinated by the scope and originality of the opposition to their benign rul
e.
The general maintenance orb reached the target planet and found its near space occupied by two technological items: one orbiting in a thirty-hour, total global pattern, and the other geosynchronous. These objects were thoroughly examined before the orb descended to a level at which it could investigate why a homing missile had been despatched from the command facility without a message. The orb discovered some life forms resident in the facility, for what purpose it was not programmed to discover, but their presence was noted. It proceeded on its orderly inspection of the agricultural facilities placed around the more arable continents and discovered anomalies throughout a large area, suggesting malfunction of the indigenous equipment on an unprecedented scale.
Checking inventory against what should have been idle at this time of
the planet’s growing season, it could discover parts of the equipment
but not in the usual form. This abnormality was duly noted. There did
appear to be more life forms than the natural propagation of the
indigenous
species would ordinarily produce. There was no possible way inI
which such a bovine species could damage, much less alter, the machinery that husbanded it. The orb was programmed only for mechanical devices, inventory and supply: it did not examine life!
forms; that was another department.| It completed the necessary circuits at the altitude programmed into it for the maximum efficiency of requiredI investigations, sent its findings back to its home world and continued on its scheduled maintenance cycle.
The Deski were covering their ears, cowering, but still managed to report in to their bases that there was the most fearful noise in the air. The boards on both bridges reported a spatial object, travelling at an impossible speed, spinning about Botany at what Marrucci stammered had to be damned near the speed of light. Its manifestation on the bridge boards was of a continuous pattern of light, encompassing Botany.
“Then it can’t be Catteni,’ replied Rastancil, watching behind Marrucci.