by neetha Napew
‘They don’t have that capability . . .
“Yet,’ Marrucci added, sotto voce.
The team at the Command Post reported a terrifying moment.
“I felt like X-fles and being scanned by E.T.s.‘reported the generally sanguine Colonel Salvinato in a voice that noticeably shook.
“Well, you’re not alone. Something’s giving us a real goingover,’ Rastancil replied, which he hoped would reassure the colonel; his body still tingled from whatever it was that had touched him.
Salvinato reported in later that there were now two homing devices where recently there had been only one.
“Replacements by matter transmitter?” Rastancil suggested, condescendingly.
‘”Beam me up, Scotty,”’ Marrucci said, and this time he didn’t lower his voice. ‘The Catteni also don’t have anything that can do that.” ‘That would account for how the Farmers’ ships managed to load up so fast,’ said Mitford when he was called in to give his interpretation of the curious incident. ‘I felt it, too, like someone going over me with a mild electrical current.” And then he smiled.
“The Farmers have finally noticed us.”
“Do we really want them to?”
Mitford thought that over for a long moment and then shrugged.
“Beats me, general,’ but he grinned because this was not his problem any more. And yet, it was. Anything to do with Botany was. ‘It was the only option I had at the time. Still seems a good one. Only no-one hung around long enough to speak to us. So, what happens next?” Scott called an immediate meeting of as many of those from Camp Rock as had witnessed the fly-past of the Mech Makers’/Farmers’ space-ship.
Rumours circulated, and each lap doubled in improbability, stupidity and frightfulness, especially about the scan. It was now variously supposed to have infected everyone with a deadly disease, and the entire population would die in twenty-four hours. Others included the fabrications that the Farmers had counted them and would shortly come and round them up, process them in the abattoir and ship them back as delicacies. All of them were ‘marked’ now and would be enslaved or converted into the six-legged loo-cows or sentenced to turn into night-crawlers.
There was certainly tension as the First Drop folk gathered in the mess hall at Narrow, late that afternoon. Benches (made of old machine parts, and these were the last places where the arrivals sat) and stools formed a semi-circle around a table at which sat Jim Rastancil, Geoffrey Ainger, Bill Fetterman, Bob Reidenbacker, John Beverly, Pete Easley, Yuri Palit and the former judge, Iri Bempechat, who had recently taken over the disciplinary duties for work evasion or inadequacy. Ray Scott, with his insufferable aide, Beggs, taking notes and counting noses, rose when it was evident that all who intended to come had arrived.
“I hope none of you have suffered any repercussions from those ludicrous rumours started after our recent visitation,’ Scott began, with a rueful expression.
He looked directly at Chuck Mitford, who sat with Zainal on his right and Kris to his left, with Dowdall, Cumber, Esker, Murphy and Tesco - his original assistants during the retreat from the First Drop field - ranged along the row: defenders who had made very certain that no hystericals got near the sergeant.
Patti Sue sat just behind him with Jay Greene, Sandy Areson, Bart, Coo,
Pess, Slav, Bass, Matt Su and Mack Dargle. More from the First Drop
spread out behind them: Janet, Anna
Bollinger, the Doyles, Joe Latore and Dick Aarens.
Mitford, arms crossed over his chest, grinned. ‘You and me both know the problem with rumours, admiral, but I’m not going into decline over ‘em, scanned or not. Especially when everyone’ll wake up tomorrow in the same shape they went to sleep in.” ‘Yes, that will solve that problem, but not the bigger ones we must seriously consider,’ Scott said. He looked at Zainal. ‘I take it that phenomenal display had nothing to do with either Eosi or Catteni space-craft?” “Absolutely nothing. The satellites’ reports are going to cause a big stir, I know that much,’ and Zainal grinned broadly. ‘The Eosi won’t like to see what came. They will be very worried.
Finally.” ‘You were a scout, weren’t you, Zainal?” Bill Fetterman asked.
“You ever encountered any traces of them in this galaxy?” Zainal shook his head. ‘This is new solar system for Eosi and Catteni. Which is why we,’ and he emphasized the plural as he glanced around to include everyone there in the pronoun, ‘are colonizing it. What I know is that their technology is far superior to Eosi. I also do not fear them as I do Eosi.” ‘You don’t?” Scott was not the only one surprised by that admission. ‘How do you arrive at that conclusion considering what just happened?” ‘Because of what just happened,’ Zainal said, as if that should be obvious. ‘No-one was injured by scanning. The homer was replaced. No, I do not fear the Farmers. A . . .” and he put his hand flat against his stomach, ‘a . . . gut feeling.” ‘Does anyone else share this . . . gut feeling?” Scott asked, more amused than patronizing.
“After seeing that valley, I’m inclined to agree,’ Kris said.
There was something about the ambience in the valley that she thought the entire team shared: its tranquillity, carefully saved and preserved by the blocked entrance. ‘These are not killers, like Eosi.
They nourish this planet carefully.” ‘Why don’t they get rid of the night-crawlers, then, I’d like to know?” Dowdall asked sourly.
“Very efficient in clearing up waste and garbage,’ said Kris.
“They made safe places to keep something in, or something out.
Eosi do not do such things. The Farmers are very different from Eosi .
. . and Catteni.” Lenny Doyle raised his hand, grinning. “I’d be a bit more apt to believe him if the Mechs . . . the Farmers . . .
hadn’t nearly chopped us up for the crates. But Zainal got us out before they could - and besides, the machines weren’t programmed to know the difference between us and loo-cows.”
Dick Aarens made a low disclaimer.
“Would that suggest the Farmers aren’t bipedal?” Scott asked.
“No, it only suggests that the Farmers’ machines were not programmed to differentiate between warm-blooded species,’ said Kris.
“Could the Mechs have been made in the form of their makers?” Janet asked, her eyes flicking around for reassurance.
Lenny began to guffaw at the notion, laughter he tried to stifle when he saw how he offended Janet.
“C’mon, Janet,’ Aarens said rudely, ‘spare us that religious tripe . . . made in their image? Shit, no! Every single piece of equipment on this planet is a masterpiece of design, using renewable power sources and with easy access for self-repair and maintenance.
No-one’s been able to figure out what sort of alloy was used, but the machinery is practically indestructible.” ‘Until you came along,’ Janet said angrily, stung by Aarens’ snide manner.
“That does not, however,’ and Ray Scott jumped in quickly, waving for both of them to sit down, ‘give us any insights into what course of action the Farmers might take when that orbiting whizz-ball of theirs reports that all the machinery in a goodsized section of their farmlands is no longer in operating condition.” Kris covered her mouth to hide her grin. She wouldn’t have expected that sort of wry assessment from the admiral.
“Let us not digress into useless speculation,’ Scott went on.
Will the Eosi do anything to Botany while they’re studying the reports? Like a blockade?” ‘Or at least stop shipping us more colonists?” asked Pete Easley in a plaintive tone.
“That is more likely,’ Zainal said.
“What I had more in mind is sending a team to investigate a planet that has been the last point of call for a scout-ship and two transports.” ‘What about blaming the E.T.s for disappearing those ships?” asked Lenny Doyle with a bright grin.
“That would be too much to hope for,’Jim Rastancil said, but he grinned back at Lenny.
“The Eosi do not care
what happens to a colony like this one,’ Zainal said. ‘But they will not like what happened today when they see the reports. The Eosi believe that their technology is best.” ‘And they’ll find it hard to swallow that it isn’t,’ Ra’stancil put in, quite satisfied with that turn.
“So, it’s the Eosi who are your inventors?” Ainger asked.
“Yes. They supply the plans. Catteni build.” ‘You’re sure they won’t come after Botany because it has attracted such extra . . .” Rastancil asked, pausing for the appropriate tem, ‘stellar visitations?”
Zainal considered this.
“How the hell can Zainal answer that, General?” Mitford asked with some acrimony. ‘The Eosi have been supreme in space so far - at least to hear Catteni tell it, and I heard all their tales when I was stuck in Barevi.” ‘There will be much worry and many meetings,’ Zainal said, obviously enjoying Eosian consternation. ‘You,’ and he gestured to those around the table, mostly the newest to arrive on Botany, ‘do not realize how low Earthmen are in their great minds and . . .
serfs.” He looked at Kris to see if he had the right word. ‘They will spend much effort and time trying to find out who sent that very, very fast space machine. Not,’ and he paused for emphasis, ‘why it should appear here around their penal colony.”
“That’s a relief,’ murmured Anna in the row behind.
“That’s some relief,’ echoed Rastancil, sitting back.
ù ; ‘So we can put the Eosi response to this in the slow lane, then,’ Scott said, ‘but I doubt we can ignore the response of the Farmers.” ‘He thinks by calling them “Farmers”, they won’t scare us as much,’ Janet remarked to Anna.
Kris grinned over her shoulder at Janet, but the woman was whistling in the dark: her eyes were scared and her chin trembled slightly. Anna Bollinger, who had left her baby son with someone for this meeting, looked even more frightened.
“I hoped to get their attention, Admiral, as the one chance I saw - then - of getting off this planet and back home. Best scenario would be to make them notice the Eosi/Catteni combine,’ Mitford said.
“A bit naive of you, wasn’t it, sergeant?” asked Geoffrey Amger.
“Now, wait just a minute, Ainger,’ said Kris, sitting up straight with the anger that bit of condescension roused in her. She was not placated by Easley leaning over to murmur something to the British naval officer.
“My apologies, Miss Bjornsen, I forget how little you had at your disposal in the early days,’ Ainger said, elevating his butt off the chair, ‘Sergeant Mitford, no offence intended.” ‘None taken,’ Mitford said equably and waved his hand, accepting the apology. The hand came down on Kris’s leg, a reminder that he was well able to defend himself.
“It was at the very least what any noncom should do,’ Bull Fetterman said. ‘Establish what escape route is possible to return to his regiment.” ‘We established a lot more than that,’ said Dick Aarens, jumping to his feet. ‘And we’ve done a damned good job of converting the Mech Makers’ stuff to human needs. Give us some credit, damn it!” ‘We do, I assure you, Mr Aarens, especially since you contrived so many of the improvements . . .” Reidenbacker began.
“We’d better stop congratulating ourselves,’ Mitford put in, ‘begging your pardon, sir, but I’d like to hear what Admiral Scott now has in mind.” Kris covered her mouth quickly because it was obvious from Scott’s expression that he had nothing in mind . . . yet.
“What I’d like to hear again . . . friends,’ and Scott was having trouble finding an appropriately inoffensive group noun, ‘is exactly your impressions of the arrival of the Leviathan you saw, collecting this planet’s harvests.” ‘If you mean, were we scanned then?” Kris asked. ‘No, we weren’t.” ‘Hell, Admiral, the ship didn’t even know we were there,’ Jay Greene said. ‘It just sailed overhead like some sort of . . .” and he waved his hand above his head, ‘a monstrous dinosaur.”
“It didn’t land?”
“Not that we saw,’ Mitford replied.
“Zainal led a group of us back here, because we thought that’s where it hovered,’ Ninety Doyle said. ‘We weren’t that far behind it when it took off again. There wasn’t a bloody thing left of the acres of crates we had to climb to get out of here.” ‘So there was nothing in it of the speed and flexibility of what buzzed us?” Beverly asked.
“Nuh-huh,’ and Ninety shook his head emphatically.
“Different yoke entirely.” ‘We sort of thought at the time,’ said Jay Greene, ‘that it was pre-programmed to do its job. That there wasn’t any life form aboard it.”
Rastancil whistled, impressed. ‘Totally automated?”
“And a culture which has patently invented matter transmitters .
. .” Scott said, clearing his throat.
“That would have been the only way all that stuff could have been loaded in the time it hovered,’ Ninety agreed. ‘Just like on Star Trek.” ‘Then it is entirely likely that today’s scanner is also totally automated,’ Easley said, quickly changing the subject from that awesome concept.
“We couldn’t get any idea of the mass-of the scanner,’ Rastancil said.
‘I was on the bridge when it began its orbit and the transport doesn’t
have much in the way of fancy detection
L
devices . . .” He looked over at Marrucci, who had been in the scout.
The pilot shook his head, holding up his hands. ‘I couldn’t figure out what to activate on the board.” He looked at Zainal.
“The scout will not track such speed,’ the Catteni said.
“So essentially, we must wait until the device sends its reports to the Farmers,’ Scott said, ‘and then await results.” ‘Isn’t there anything we can do to save us?” Anna Bollinger’s voice had a slightly hysterical note in it.
“We can’t just sit still and do nothing.” Janet added her protest.
A slightly supercilious expression crossed Admiral Scott’s face and Kris, who had started to like the man, changed her opinion again.
“If he asks her what she thinks we should do . . .” she murmured to Mitford, who once again clamped his hand on her leg in restraint as he turned round to Janet.
“There’s a lot we can do, Janet, and that’s why we’re here.
Now, we’ve done pretty well so far, haven’t we?” he asked, and waited until she gave her head an unwilling nod. ‘So just hold tight a bit longer, huh?” Then Mitford turned back to the front table. ‘Since it’s a fair bet that the scanner saw that we’ve altered all the machines that are supposed to be in the various garages and barns we’ve been using, why don’t we start by clearing them out? I’d also recommend that we explore that nearer continent with the view of taking up our residence there . . . that is, if we find the Farmers haven’t set up shop there, too.” Scott was nodding acceptance of these suggestions; even Ainger looked less dour.
“There’re all those closed valleys on this continent, blocked to keep something in, or something out. How many did we discover, Zainal?” Mitford turned to his right.
“Several dozens. We must ask the map woman, Sheila, for details.” ‘The
caves are ours,’ Patti Sue said firmly, the last person Kris would have
thought would speak up in such a meeting. “We’ve made them livable.” 1’
1’
“But we have trespassed,’ Janet said to her.
Kris didn’t dare look round at Janet; what she was saying was so weird from a woman who was considered basically quite sensible. Maybe the scan had done something to some folks after all. She shuddered, deciding she wasn’t going to think there could be the least bit of truth in those asinine rumours. All products of insecurity and lack of self-confidence: certainly nothing with any factual basis.
“If we give them back what we took . . . ,’ Janet went on and then, hearing Dick Aarens’ contemptuous snort at that idea, she whirled round on him, pointing her finger. ‘You’re the one who started taking their machines apa
rt . . .” ‘Janet!” Once again Mitford called her to order, twisting round to face her. ‘You’re not thinking this through, and you’re not a silly woman. You’ve been such a strength to so Many who got here confused and scared.” Sandy Areson had discreetly moved to sit on Janet’s other side and now put a comforting arm around her shoulders, nodding once to Mitford to indicate she would take over now.
“What was done, is done, and I doubt even the best of our mechanical geniuses could put all the parts back together again,’ Scott said in a conciliatory tone, ‘not that that would be even remotely feasible since we’ll need every single thing we’ve contrived from their machinery to effect an evacuation of their premises. If that is one of our options.” ‘I think retreat in the face of overwhelming strength is usually considered a sensible course of action,’ Bull Fetterman said at his driest.
He got scattered laughter for his attempt to reduce the tension in the mess hall.
“Furthermore we can prepare places for everyone,’ Beverly said with a big smile, ‘if what I’ve seen of some of those valleys is any indication.” ‘The other continent’s a better idea, General,’ Mitford said, rising from his chair. ‘Especially as we now have the Tub to do reconnaissance. Which I had planned to do anyway.”
“Positive action is always admirable, Sergeant,’ said Scott,
‘and I suggest you complete your plans and get them under way as soon as possible.” ‘Will Yuri’s group start immediate evacuations, too?” And Mitford swung half-way round, indicating Janet.
“You better believe it,’ but it was Reidenbacker who answered the question and he gave Janet an encouraging smile and a thumb’s-up gesture. She made a pathetic little sound in her throat but managed a brief smile, still twisting her hands nervously in her lap.
“They’d better consider that there’ll be a lot more newcomers reacting like Janet,’ Kris murmured to Mitford, who nodded his head.
“Shouldn’t we clear out all the things we’ve made?” Dick Aarens asked.