by neetha Napew
Suddenly waves of force rocked the AAI as if it were a pod in a pond. The Ix, in a manner inconsonant with its dignity and size, grabbed for support until the buffeting subsided.
“Report!” it said in its cold and vicious verbal communication form.
“Most High Eosi, an unknown vessel has appeared . . .”
“You keep no watch?” nt 1: .
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“It appeared on screen just as we passed the heliopause,’ the commander said, not daring to raise his eyes to the towering Eosi, ‘where other such devices have been seen to disappear.” The commander had been well briefed on the problems of and connected with this colony planet, not to mention the extraordinary fact that the Mentat had not received its chosen of record but another in the bloodline.
“What is it?” the Ix demanded. Can you not show it?”
The commander hastily called up on the nearest screen what had stunned his entire bridge crew. The monstrous ship was ten times the size of the AA1, which itself was three times the size of the next largest spaceship in the Catteni navy. The immense ship was obviously headed inward and at a rate of speed which would bring it to its destination thirty time units before the AA 1, for all its vaunted improved propulsion system and cruising speed.
“Can you not attach a tracer to its hull before it gets out of range?”
Even as it spoke, Ix realized that the ship was probably out of range.
“It is already out of range for such an attachment, Great Eosi.” Ix fumed that the commander would waste its time stating the obvious.
How could another species have developed such technology without the Eosi being aware of their existence? The Eosi had not bothered lately with anything more complicated than the Improvement in propulsion and cruising range, its present navy having been deemed sufficient for all practical purposes.
Such an attitude of complacency was no longer permissible.
“Watch it and record it. Do not fail for an instant.”
“NO, Most High Eosi, not for an instant,’ and the commander, reheved to have escaped with his life, strode as quickly as courtesy permitted away from the Eosi and back to the relative safety of his own bridge.
No-one commented on his arrival, or moved an eye muscle from whatever panel their duties bound them to.
Several hours later, the captain was awakened from an inadvertent doze
by a stir of excitement, palpable on the bridge
“Sir, the ship is . . .”
Wide awake, and staring at the view screen, the commander watched, awed, as the strange ship - magnified many times to keep it on the slower warship’s view screens - dipped briefly into the atmosphere of the subject planet, then bobbed up again and continued on its way to the other side of the solar system. Where, upon reaching the heliopause, it disappeared from even the most sensitive Instrumentation.
The commander reported to the Eosi, who was ensconced on a huge chair in the cargo compartment which had been altered to provide it with the maximum comfort. The chair faced a large screen which had already shown the Ix evrvthin the I: would have to report.
“The planet is of no importance in the face of this,’ and the Lost paused. ‘Return to Catten. At all possible speed,’ and its tone was contemptuous of such a torpid rate now that it had seen a velocity that transcended the best of Eosi capabilities.
“This must be reported - and countered.” If, as the AA I passed through the heliopause of the system, a famt shock, like a low voltage of electricity, was felt by those awake, only a nano-second blip registered the shock on the bridge and it was dismissed as an anomaly.
Deski ears felt the noise in the air long before the huge vessel was visible. But, while frightened people ran for the nearest cover in the caves they still occupied and the valleys they were presently making homely, the noise did not increase. To those with binoculars, it was visible more as a scintillating lozenge very high overhead. On the view-screens of the bridges, the monster seemed to do no more than skim the very top of the stratosphere, skipping like a flat stone across a calm lake, before altering its course and flying off into space, taking its skull-shattering noise with it.
Scott blinked, cleared his throat and managed to unclench his fists. He had been in the KDL’s bridge, his eyes glued to the incredible astronautic event delineated on the detection screen.
No-one cared to break the silence, for no-one quite believed what they had just seen until a comunit beeped, an almost impudent noise considering the enormity of the recent event.
“That’s about the size of the first one, Admiral,’ said Su. ‘I think we’re lucky it was so high up . . . What’s that?”Scuse me, sir .
. .” and the connection was broken.
Dick Aarens came running full clip down the passageway to the bridge, catching himself on the door frame to stop, his face ashen and the expression in his eyes as close to awe as he was ever likely to come.
“They did it, Scott. They did it. They’ve replaced every last fri . . .” ‘Watch your language on my bridge, Aarens.” Scott recovered enough to reprimand him. ‘What has been replaced?” ‘All the Mech Makers’ stuff, the farm machinery we disassembled. It’s all back.
Back in the abattoir and everywhere . . .” Peter Easley, who had been just as flabbergasted as everyone else on the bridge, absorbed that news before Ray Scott or John Beverly did. ‘Good thing we got the main garage cleaned out then, isn’t it?”
“It would have been very messy if we hadn’t,’ John Beverly
remarked, then he and Peter burst out laughing.
“Yes, but did they take the parts back?” Scott demanded.
“The parts?” Aarens was confused.
“I don’t think so, Ray,’ Beverly said, holding up the comunit usually attached to his belt.
Aarens ran to the hatch but sauntered back to the bridge, a smug grin on his face. ‘The air cushion’s still there. Maybe the Farmers didn’t recognize what I’d done to their material.” The newly devised com board of the KDL lit up with other incoming calls from Shutdown, Bella Vista and the other three garage sites that had so recently been cleared of human occupation; then the caves and the valleys that were now human habitations.
“They don’t know we’re here, then,’ was Worrell’s reaction.
“And couldn’t care less,’ added Jay Greene. ‘Hope the satellite caught that visitation!” ‘You do?” and Worry began to fret over what trouble that could cause back in Barevi or Catten or wherever the Eosi hung out.
The machinery was back, replicas of every single model that had been disassembled by the colonists, in pristine condition and arranged in the appropriate order in each garage, barn or building. The solar panels that had been taken down and installed elsewhere for the camps’ needs were also replaced and seemingly operational.
“Why aren’t the machines moving?”
“It isn’t spring here yet. Not the time to farm.”
“Weren’t we lucky to have moved out in time?”
“No messages with the unpacking?”
“As if we could have read them?”
“Was Kilroy here, or his E.T. counterpart?”
“WHAT do we do now?”
Chuck Mitford, having seen the huge spaceship on the Tub’s screen as they made their way back to the Headquarters at New Narrow Valley to report, had one answer to that when John Beverly informed him of the arrival of complete replacements.
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“Get into those garages and remove the anaesthetic darts from the launchers before those machines are fully charged.”
“Won’t such interference be noticed?” Beverly asked.
“I sure hope not. We took the first ones out when they were “down”, but you’d want to do it before they get fully operational.
Fill the reservoirs with water - that anaesthesia damned near put paid to a lot of us on the First Drop. Lenny Doyle or Pess’ll show you how; they’ve done it before.” �
�Any other suggestions, sergeant?” Beverly asked at his most respectful.
“Watch out for avian predators. Those machines can call them down on anything that moves where it shouldn’t.”
“Anything else?”
“If I think of something, I’ll let you know. But check with Cumber, Esker, the Doyle brothers, Matt Su, any of the First Drop who scouted for me.” Mitford had been sending back daily reports on their explorations. Now he turned back to his team.
“I thought for sure we’d have more than three weeks before anything happened,’ he said, scratching his head in a measure of anxiety. ‘Can we make a bit more speed on this thing, Sarah?” he asked, since she was the driver.
“Sure, but it’s about to get bumpy again.”
“We are not far now,’ said Zainal, peering out of the front windows.
“How long would it take the Eosi to do something, Zainal?” Mitford asked, now drumming restless fingers on his knee with his free hand as he clung to a safety strap with the other.
Zainal shrugged. ‘I do not think they can move as fast as Farmers. Eosi are not automated. Nor do they have matter transmission.” He chuckled.
“I sure hope it galls their souls to hell’n’back,’ Mitford said,
grinning. ‘I sure hope it makes ‘em squirm with envy and dismay.” “Just
so long as they keep out of our hair,’ Kris added. She knew that,
despite Zainal’s assurances, she wasn’t the only one fretting over the
possibility of Eosi reprisals on the colony. He
would know better than she, of course, but it didn’t keep her from worrying. She daren’t even think how the Farmers might react in a direct confrontation with their uninvited tenants, though Zainal’s point about the valleys’ protection barriers was comforting - as far as it went with an unknown species.
New Camp Narrow was located in one of the closed valleys, south and east of the original cliff installation and itself suitably narrow but longer than most. It had been opened up by the simple expedient of blowing the barrier down with ingredients taken from Baby’s arsenal.
Zainal had instructed several miners and an ax-ordnance officer on the explosive capability of the different substances in her lockers. The original notion had been to use such combustibles for mining operations. The Farmers had ignored the mineral and metal resources of the planet.
Inside the appropriately long, narrow valley, Baby and the KDL were parked one beside the other; despite Baby’s size in comparison to the larger, oblong transport vessel, she looked sleek, powerful and far more dangerous. Parts of the wrecked transport had been utilized to make a fair-sized shelter nearby, and the returning explorers had no trouble identifying it as ‘headquarters’ from the flow of people in and out.
Small tents of loo-cow skins dotted the other side of the usual valley stream, and the carcass of a loo-cow was turning on a spit over a firepit. The rubble from the opening had been lugged across the stream for use in constructing homes; several were as high as window height, with masons busy around them. A much larger building was already in use, its heavy stone pillars supporting a roof of slate that overhung to provide shelter from rains, while half-built sides of rough timber gave the edifice the look of a forestry preserve facility.
Tables, benches, stools, a few chairs and a neat pile of blanket rolls suggested it was providing several functions, unfinished as it was.
As the explorers swung round to park and dismount from their vehicle, they were hailed by many but no-one stopped working for more than a few moments.
“I wonder where they stashed the airplanes and all the aircushions,’ Kris wondered, noting their absence.
“This wouldn’t be the only valley in use,’ said Mitford, stretching his legs. ‘Okay, Kris, Zainal, Bjorn, Whitby, Coo, we’ll make the initial report. You got all the maps, Whitby?
Yeah . . .” ‘I have pictures,’ Zainal volunteered, showing the mass in one big hand.
“I have soil samples,’ and Bjorn showed the little case he had made for them.
“And I have the log print-out,’ Kris added, wondering why Mitford was so antsy suddenly.
“Sarah,’ the-sergeant said, turning towards her and Joe, ‘go see what the drill is here. Astrid, see if we can get some food.
Slav, put water in the tank. Oskar, Jan, Leila, air the Tub out good, and maybe even give it a good wash.” He waved towards the stream.
% If the refinements of headquarters left a lot to be desired as they entered and looked around it, the essentials - including the yet again reconstructed bridge of the wrecked transport showed it to be in good working order and array. There svere even ‘offices’, cubicles with woven reed walls to afford some privacy. Old mech parts still doubled for stools, cupboards, shelving and benches.
“D’you suppose the Farmers didn’t recognize their own stuff?” Kris murmured to Zainal.
“Bring your group over this way, sergeant,’ called Scott, standing in the opening of one of the larger reed-walled compartments on the far side of the bridge.
“Even has a ready room,’ Kris murmured, this time to Mitford.
“You’re getting far too impudent, ma’am,’ Mitford replied, though he was also peering at the equipment. The wreck which had once been operated from this bridge had never kept it in such good order.
“Mitford, Kris, Zainal, Bjorn, Whitby,’ and Scott was solemnly shaking hands as he ushered them in. ‘Saw you coming,’ he added, ‘so John, Bill and Jim asked to be in on the debriefing.” i 1He sat at a desk that was really no more than several planks fitted together, rubbed smooth with some sort of polish to prevent splinters: two woven baskets sat on the surface. For’in’ and ‘out’, Kris though irreverently but their presence was oddly comforting. ‘Business as usual.” The other brass-heads sat on Scott’s side of the desk.
“It’d be a super place to settle a lot, if not all, of our people General,’ Mitford said, pulling the stool closer to his legs before he settled on it. Whitby was unfolding the map, indicating the scope of their explorations as Zainal arranged the photos of the sites that looked suitable for habitation. ‘Though you look like you’ve settled in here well.” ‘Thanks, sergeant. It is indeed a pleasant place, and there’ve been no indications of undesirable elements in any of the valleys we’re utilizing.” Scott had taken up one photo, and Kris nudged Zainal because she’d had a bet on with him that it’d be the one that took his eyes. ‘Now this is a magnificent setting,’ he said, and passed the picture to John Beverly on his right.
“Thought you’d like the view of the harbour,’ Kris said. ‘It’s deep enough for an aircraft carrier.” ‘What would you know about draught, Kris?” Scott asked, but he was clearly in a good mood.
“The water’s real dark down there,’ she said, grinning. ‘Too bad we don’t have any big ships. Yet.” Mitford nodded to Bjorn to report now. ‘The ground is fertile, though it has not been tilled in many years.” ‘You mean it was? Once?” Scott sat forward, dropping the second picture he had taken up.
Mitford pulled the telltale picture away from those overlapping it. ‘The Farmers always put their facilities on unusable real estate, rocky or sandy, or plain non-arable. Look at the way this cliff has been hollowed out. We could damned near hide the KDL in here. For sure, it’d take Baby and all our converted equipment. This whole area shows signs of previous usage. And we found another section further along that ridge that reminds me of the way the abattoir was set up.”
The four bent their heads to examine the suspect photos,
and it was obvious they agreed with him.
“We found two more garage-type installations further up here,’ and Mitford indicated the positions on the map. ‘We didn’t concentrate on finding any more because they had so obviously been vacant a very long time.” ‘We think we saw some likely spots on the other side of the bay,’ Whitby said, ‘but the terrain was too steep for the Tub, so we didn’t cross the bay.” ‘Is it possible that the Farmers have j
ust allowed the land to remain fallow because they have enough here?” asked Scott.
“It has been fallow many, many years,’ Bjorn said. ‘But the soil is rich and would grow everything we needed. Especially if we used the land as wisely as the Farmers do,’ and he ended on an admonitory note.
“All we need is another shipment of replacements,’ Beverly said with a grin.
“Hell’s bells, General,’ and Mitford grinned, ‘we saved everything we didn’t use, so we’ve still got the ploughs and other farming junk. I’d heard none of the scraps were vacuumed up or beamed or whatever. We only have to mount ploughs and stuff back on the air cushions and use ‘em for their original function. No big problem!’ “That’s true, though some will not want to give up their runabouts,’ and he winked at Mitford, ‘for ploughing. What about the scavengers?”
“Nary a sign of them,’ said Mitford.
“And that’s a puzzle,’ Whitby said. ‘We left out our garbage every night we were there - and found it still there the next morning.
But the terrain is very similar to what we have here.”
“No night-crawlers on that continent?”
“None we could find, at any rate.” Mitford took up the recital.
“We did find rocksquats, whole colonies of them up in the hills and just as dumb as the ones over here. There were avians where the lodge-poles have grown up into forests. Perhaps the damned crawlers died of starvation.” He grinned. ‘We can always rustle a few loo-cows from here and see what happens.
There’re none there that we could find.” ‘Many of the same root vegetables and berry bushes already grow there, and other vegetation is similar,’ put in Bjorn, his expression glowing with pleasure. ‘And fish and clams . . .” ‘Roasted corn would have gone so well with them,’ Kris said suddenly, and sighed. ‘I’m sorry.” Scott bent an understanding look on her and his lips twitched in a slight smile.
“You’re not alone.” ‘We may yet find something similar,’ said Bjorn, his wide face eager to please her. ‘We don’t really have a complete catalogue of the planet’s flora.” ‘By the way, Mitford,’ Beverly said, ‘we disarmed the darts as you recommended. That’s quite a powerful anaesthesia!’