by Andre Norton
He wandered outside again, mounted his horse, and headed for the main ranch: there was work to be done. With several of the permanent hands now working at Storm and Tani’s ranch in the Peaks, they were short-handed here in the basin. Brad was planning on hiring several more temporary hands for the main ranch, to stay as long as the ship and his family were gone.
Storm worked the remainder of the day and once the light began to fade, he headed, tired, dirty, and hungry, for the house and dinner. He saw the crawler parked by the door as he arrived and knew Logan, Laris, and Prauo must already be back from the ship. Captain D’Argeis had probably come with them. He used the fresher and walked into the dining room to find he was right. Versha had also come to share a meal and, he hoped, to give them a lift-off time, now that they were almost ready.
Brad caught his gaze, signaling him to sit, eat, and wait. Storm obeyed. It was Versha, once they were at the sit-back-and-drink-swankee stage, who opened the discussion.
“How close are you to ready, Storm?”
“Everything’s done but the hydroponics, or so Laris told me this morning. Captain D’Argeis told her they too would be completed by tomorrow night. Take an extra day for final checks, and I’d say we’re all systems go in three days.”
“Good, because I have Patrol diplomatic clearance for you.”
Logan broke in. “Clearance? Does that mean ambassador status?”
Versha looked down at a plasheet. “In a way. You have the right to make very limited agreements with any indigenous race you find. The limitations are all set out on the reader-chip I’ll be giving you. If you find the world Gerald and Harb may have found—or, in fact, any Earth-type world—and there are no natives, you have the right to claim it in the name of Terra, but not to claim land there yourselves. You do get a generous finder’s fee, though, and you may load the ship with anything you feel may be valuable. Such a cargo not counting against the finder’s fee and assuming it passes quarantine on your return.”
She looked up from the plasheet, smiling at the surprised looks on their faces. “High Command has had some experience in these matters and they have had protocol in place for the past fifty years.”
“What about trading rights if we find natives?”
Versha grinned at Logan, who’d asked that question. “Same sort of thing and that’s also covered in protocol directions. If the natives offer to trade you may do so. If what they’re willing to trade proves to be valuable to human-settled space, or to allied races, you have first trading rights. But the Patrol won’t thank you to be trading higher technology where it’s inappropriate, nor to be bringing back the wrong sorts of drugs. We have enough of those available now. Be a little conservative, check everything twice, and you should be fine. So long as you don’t go too far over reasonable boundaries, High Command will ratify anything you sign.”
Logan beamed. “Maybe Laris and I should get formal ambassadors’ outfits.” His grin widened. “I must say, I’d give a lot to see Storm in that rig.”
His half-brother, remembering the few times he’d seen ambassadors dressed formally, shuddered. “Please!”
Terran diplomacy had evolved quite nicely. Terran diplomatic garb had not. The idea of approaching any one at all wearing the archaic tailcoat, brilliantly white starched shirt with hard collar, black trousers, tight, black, polished leather shoes, and with his chest ablaze with medals, made Storm cringe. He’d almost rather face Xik fire on an occupied planet again.
Tani giggled at the look on his face. “I’ve seen ambassadors. You’d look so funny.”
Storm rose slightly and bowed. “Thank you. You, on the other hand, would look very grand. Maybe we should pack a gown or two for you.”
“It could be fun, Laris would look great in one of those fancy full-length ones. Maybe we should, just to impress anyone we find.”
Versha nodded. “Actually, you should. Storm, Logan, don’t you have uniforms of some kind? Logan, I seem to recall you are still with the Rangers officially?”
“Well, yes, and I do have their parade uniform, I’ve just never worn it. But do you really mean I should take it with me?”
“I do. And Storm, you were in the Terran army during the Xik war. I know you were in the Beast-Master Commando Unit, but you’d surely have had a formal full-dress uniform for reporting to your HQ. Do you still have that?”
Storm groaned. “I guess it’s packed somewhere. I’ll dig it out if you’re serious.”
Versha’s face went still, her gaze hardened as her voice developed an edge. “I’m very serious. Listen, you four. If you do find a native race and make agreements with them, you’re acting on behalf of the whole of Terran Space. You’re it, speaking for Terran High Command. Your words will be backed by every human alive and by our nonhuman allies. On your decisions could hang the weight of peace—or war.” She saw Laris was looking scared; Storm, Tani, and Logan looked both thoughtful and greatly sobered.
“I think you’ll all do fine. Just go slowly, don’t assume because you think one way, everyone else thinks the same. Storm has met non-human races. So, I imagine, has the captain?” She collected Captain D’Argeis’s nod and continued, “So if in doubt, listen to them before you act. Hopefully you’ll find an uninhabited Earth-type world, though, and no complications.”
“But if we do that, what about Prauo?” Laris piped up.
*I shall do well still, sister. I have you, our friends, and a home on this world,* Prauo sent to them all. *It is enough. I am not greedy.*
Laris suppressed the sudden knowledge that he was—if not actually lying—not telling all the truth. For some reason he really did want to find his world. Wasn’t she enough? She hid the question deep in her mind and listened to the continuing conversation about her.
Versha nodded. “If you are working towards departure then, with your leave, I’d better get back to the port. I still have things to do before our Patrol ship can lift. They’ll be checking the other sector Brad and Storm estimate the Antares could have gone to. Our own number-crunchers have rechecked all your estimates and can’t get any closer. So we’re sending a Mega-Garand with orders to stay out two or three years if necessary. We want to be sure the Antares crew aren’t playing Lords of Creation on some primitive planet and piling up hatred for us that will explode in our faces at some later date.”
She sighed. “The Powers-that-Be are talking of reactivating Terran Survey properly now the war is over. I’ll be grateful if they do. We can do without this sort of situation, and so long as we don’t have Survey pushing out ahead, it’s always a possibility.”
Brad groaned. “Along with higher taxes, and some of our best and brightest going into the service instead of staying here.”
“That’s the price you pay.” Versha stood. “I’m gone. I still have a desk covered with work and my second-in-command is complaining about it. I’ll see you the evening after next for a final discussion.” She made her farewells, pausing to give Laris a hug at the last. “Good fortune, child.”
Versha’s footsteps faded along the path and they heard her ground-car whine off down the road to the port before Brad, too, stood up.
“Bed, everyone. We want an early start in the morning.”
The next two days were frantic. Everyone kept remembering minor items which had to be loaded, adjusted, added, or repacked. Captain D’Argeis second-guessed himself and had more fuel bricks loaded along with a much wider assortment of seeds and seedlings for the hydroponics section. Versha inspected the Lady’s med-cabinet and had her techs install a still-further upgraded chip with additional med-supplies—just in case.
Tani decided she didn’t approve of the Lady’s shabby interior look and talked Laris into agreeing to a paint job. This led to everyone sidling along passages nervously watching for wet paint and muttering about bright ideas. Prauo, incautiously entering their cabin, greeted Laris with pale gray-blue ears to match the walls. When she gasped in horror and he turned too quickly, he also acquired a ta
ffeta colored tail matching the cabin’s trim. Both cursed Tani before collapsing in laughter.
Prauo posed. *What do you think, sister-without-fur?*
*I think I’d rather have you black and gold. Blue and pink on top of that seems a touch gaudy.*
*Maybe you could tell Versha that I too am wearing ambassador’s garb. Perhaps we should bring more paint in case any natives take up the idea?* They elaborated that theme until both were weak with laughter. Finally Laris sat up on her bunk, switching to verbal discussion.
“Seriously, brother-in-fur. I think you should have some special thing to wear in case we must appear official. I have your gift from the Djimbut clan, I can stitch that to a sort of harness for your chest.” Her voice lowered unconsciously. “And I could put one of the miniature transmitters behind it in case. That way if anything ever happened to you, we’d know where you were.”
*That seems a good idea to me,* Prauo agreed thoughtfully. *No matter what world we find, it would be as well to be in contact with each other. You should take your own advice, too, my sister. Wear your own gift plaque and add a transmitter to that also.*
Laris nodded slowly. “I will. But if anything happened and we lost the plaques . . . I had a thought about that too just now. I must go and find Storm. He’ll know.”
She discovered Storm and Tani stowing the final items in their cabin and explained her discussion with Prauo. “So,” she concluded, “Dedran once talked about transmitters that could be implanted so they couldn’t be lost or taken away. Should we have that done for us all before we leave? Just in case?”
Storm considered it for several minutes while they waited. “It isn’t a bad idea at all. I’ll talk to Versha. There’s a simple service-issue type we could use that isn’t too expensive. It’s a homing beacon plus a med-report system. In link with the med-cabinet the transmitter reports the wearer’s general health.”
He grinned briefly. “I’ve also known it to be used to signal in code. The soldier wearing it had his transmitter beacon as a chest implant. When he was captured by the Xik he turned away and thumped his chest over and over. The Xik didn’t realize what he was doing and were very surprised when we came bursting in to rescue him.”
He started for the passage and exit ramp. “I’ll go and find Versha now. It wouldn’t take long to have them done if she agrees.”
Versha did. The minor implantation operations took only minutes under local anesthetic and were done that night.
The day before they left, Versha had everyone meet with the crew of the Patrol ship that would be scouring the other sector for traces of the rogue ship and her crew. Versha herself hosted the meeting at the Patrol offices.
“This is Patrol-Captain Yasa Dirmak. She will be taking the Patrol cruiser Long Island to survey sector nine. That’s where the best evidence says the Antares crew may be hiding. Now, sector nine is the triangle next to the unsurveyed sector ten, where you’re looking. It has been agreed that both ships are to be fitted with limited circuit transmitters as well as the open circuit system. Since you’ll both be in areas where no other Patrol ship will be near, the transmitters will allow either of you to call for help from the other.”
Laris promptly asked the reason—which all the others present already understood. “The cruiser has over fifty people on the crew. How much use will the six of us be if a cruiser is in trouble?”
Captain Dirmak’s face remained completely serious. “My dear Ms. Trehannan, even with state-of-the-art communications it can take time for help to reach us. You will be far closer than anyone else. The problem might be as small as a hydroponics system that has failed. It has happened before now, I assure you. If it happened this time, your ship would be in a position to reach us and resupply hydroponics so we would not have to break off our search prematurely. I understand the ship is your personal property—you would be willing to aid us at need, would you not?”
Laris looked horrified that that could be doubted. “I swear, if you need us, just call—we’ll come running.”
“Thank you. We shall rely on your word.”
Behind her Brad’s gaze met Versha’s and they exchanged a quirk of the lips in lieu of the considerable amusement both felt. The limited circuit communications were, of course, for the benefit of the Lady and her crew, not to bring aid to the far larger, better crewed and armed Patrol ship. Everyone but Laris had understood the reciprocal arrangement was a legal fiction for her ship’s benefit.
The meeting broke up after several hours. Each group departed with a clear idea of the other’s possible route, and arrangements had been made for regular calls to and from each ship. Both would also rig alarms to their com-units that could be triggered by either ship. If there was an emergency, the other ship would know at once.
The Lady’s new crew reached the ranch later that night, they might have stayed up far longer, talking over the endless possibilities and choices, had not Brad been expecting exactly that. He produced a bottle of the ten-year-old elma-fruit wine. It had a sweet, very fruity taste that many Arzorans loved—and a lack of alcoholic flavor, which was most deceptive to the unwary or uninitiated. He popped the cork softly, producing glasses and lining them up on the table.
“A toast. To far stars, safe journeying, true discoveries, and a joyous return!” The glasses were raised and emptied.
Storm nodded to Laris. “And to The Trehannan Lady. May all who space in her find their dreams.”
The glasses were emptied again. Brad passed around the last of the bottle’s contents before lifting his glass one more time. “To Laris and Prauo. Who seeks may find, who lives may learn, who loves is blessed.”
The calls of approval at that drowned Prauo’s purr, and Brad’s grunt of amusement as all the glasses were drained again. That should do it, he thought. No one would be staying up to chatter after that. Everyone—including himself—had received a good dose of the wine that would act as a sedative, and already Laris was yawning. He made his own way hastily to his bed.
When morning came, all were ready, and it was still only midmorning when they entered the ship. Brad stood watching in the port office with Versha as The Trehannan Lady lifted off.
“Do you think they’ll find Prauo’s world?”
Brad shrugged. “I’ve no idea. But they’ll try, and that was what Laris needed to do. We found her family, or at least we found who they’d been and what world she’d been born on. Now she needs to find those things for Prauo. You know some of the reasons I’ve backed her, although she doesn’t.”
Versha looked serious. “I know, but I wonder about that. If he does have a world and a people, whatever they’re like, he’s bound to be different. Will they cope with that easily or could it provoke dissension?”
“Not between them, I don’t think. But . . .” He considered the idea which had occurred to him when going in search of Prauo’s world was first suggested. “It may cause problems with his people. He’s humanized, he thinks in our language and lives in our culture. Who knows how his people will cope with that? Whether they will consider him one of them still and there is the possibility none of his people would want him as a mate because of it?”
Versha looked up at that. “I wonder, too,” she said quietly. “Yet there are other choices Laris and Prauo can make. They’re quite a team, those two. I don’t think there’s much they won’t be able to handle between them.”
“Perhaps, but she is more fragile emotionally than she shows. The years in the camps marked her, and Prauo has become her stability to some extent. She is slowly learning to be more secure in herself, though, and her friendship with Tani helps.”
“They’ll be gone about a year,” Versha said, looking at him. “Will you be able to manage without them?”
“Of course. It’ll be hard work, but I always knew Logan would never be a rancher. I can get by without Storm and Tani for a year, too. I have good men to run their ranch, but I’ll be pretty tired by the time they’re home again.”
&nbs
p; “I see.”
Versha returned to her office looking thoughtful. Brad Quade had never mentioned it to her, but she knew officials in Terran High Command had spoken to him about the importance of finding new terra-type worlds and allies. It had only been the support of their allies which had enabled the human-settled worlds to survive the Xik war. And while they did not yet need new worlds to settle, High Command wanted at least one or two in hand in case it became urgent for some reason.
As well as that Terran High Command had plans for the expansion of the human race in the future in mind, and would require people to carry them out. She’d been asked for suggestions on a certain project quite recently and in turn she had talked to another who was considering her offer. Now might be a good time to make a few further suggestions to High Command. She reached for plasheets and her scriber.
Chapter Six
Life on The Trehannan Lady was placid as the days then weeks passed. Tani took the opportunity to fly Mandy, her DuIshan paraowl, most days in the main empty cargo hold that had been set up as a gymnasium. Her coyotes, Minou and Ferrare, played on the treadmills while Storm’s meerkats, Ho and Hing, thoroughly enjoyed chasing games on the climbing frames.
Storm, having been in Terra’s Beast-Master Commando Unit during the Xik war, knew all the best exercises to help them all retain muscle tone in the ship’s lower gravity. Besides which, a few fast games of handball, saitag, or kessa with racquets and two balls would help keep boredom well at bay. Kessa could be played with any even number of people, so it was most commonly played with Storm and Tani on one side, Laris and Logan on the other.
Captain D’Argeis used the gym, but mostly when the younger quartet wasn’t there. His own idea of exercise was to set the treadmill on high and read while he plodded endlessly uphill for an hour or two. He liked the children, as he thought of them, but he was used to his own company . . . and their noise distracted him from his reading.