Acorna’s People

by Anne McCaffrey

  “I regret only that we did not discover your presence aboard before we landed,” Hafiz said. “The customary punishment for stowaways is spacing. I would have greatly enjoyed pushing you through the lock with my own two hands.”

  “Bully!” Yasmin said. “You’ll get yours when my friends catch up with you.”

  “Where did you get the powdered horn you blew in my face, daughter of evil but idiotic ifrits?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Yasmin said.

  Hafiz turned politely to the planet’s administrator and asked, “Have you a very dull axe, like the one you use to butcher wood for your fires, perhaps?”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Harakamian.”

  While the administrator was sending for the required implement, Hafiz whispered to Rafik, “Already I regret the necessity for us to arrive unarmed among Acorna’s people, to demonstrate respect for their customs and possibly their religious beliefs, you understand.”

  “Under these circumstances, I can understand that regret, Uncle,” Rafik said.

  “Alas, I was unaware of Yasmin’s presence and her onboard activities. There are other ways to defend oneself than conventional weapons, of course. As you’ll see when they bring me that axe. Nonetheless, I shall have to reevaluate our internal defenses in light of this breach of security.”

  When the axe arrived, it was handed to Hafiz, who bowed graciously to acknowledge the generosity of the person or persons who lent it to him. To the administrator he said, in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “I hope you have no quaint native customs forbidding the execution of criminals? I assure you, my former wife has been convicted on many counts of many heinous crimes.”

  “No, sir. Out this far from civilization, we don’t have the luxury of bein’ overly forgiving. You just go right ahead, sir.”

  Karina saw her husband accept the axe. He nodded to the captain and Johansson, who grabbed Yasmin’s arms and maneuvered her into position, her neck exposed and pressed against a handy tree trunk.

  Karina held her breath. She could not believe he would do this without recourse to judge and jury.

  The crew and the settlers looked extremely calm about the matter, however.

  Hafiz took in a deep breath and swung the axe back over his head.

  Yasmin, who had known him in his younger and more impetuous years, did not take the situation at all calmly. “Wait! Stop! You can’t do this!”

  Hafiz lowered the axe and smiled. “Rest assured, seed of a syphilitic she-camel, that I can, and I shall unless you answer my questions.”

  “I don’t know where the powder came from,” she lied. “The lawyer who had me released from prison gave it to me. He told me to give it to you and then follow you.”

  “Follow me?”

  “Well, hide myself on your ship.” She reached into her décolletage and pulled forth what looked like a tiny jewel. “I’ve been wearing this, you see. So they could follow you.”

  “Follow me why?”

  “I don’t know—robbery, I guess.” Hafiz raised the axe again and Yasmin squealed. “Aiyee! I—I don’t think they know where the horn powder came from either. They wanted you to lead the way to the unicorn girl.”

  “Aha!” This made sense to him. They were business rivals, these patrons of his former wife, and wanted to make contact with the Linyaari for nefarious reasons. They hoped Hafiz would lead them to Acorna’s people. That made very good sense.

  “Administrator, perhaps you need a spare field hand,” he said. “If you keep this one in chains, she may be useful to you. But keep her among women only. If she is left alone with men she will be on her back in the twinkling of an eye.”

  Yasmin spat at him but was led off to the detention cell, to be fitted for chain jewelry. Karina called after her, “Just think of how much karmic clearing you’ll be doing, dear! It will stand you in such good stead in your next incarnation!”

  “May it come quickly,” Hafiz growled. He ordered the ship swept for further transmitters and four more were discovered.

  Then the Harakamians and their crew turned their attention to the celebration being held in their honor. Karina wore something even more floaty and lavender and silver than usual and Hafiz thought he had never seen her looking more radiant. “You are a precious pearl among women, my love,” he told her. “Lesser females would have upbraided me for concealing a not-quite-former marriage.”

  She dimpled at him. “Hafiz, you are so cute sometimes. Obviously you meant to divorce her—and you did, once you knew she wasn’t dead. I am attuned to the secrets of the universe, you know,” she said. Besides, the servants gossiped, comparing the current Mrs. Harakamian to the last one—favorably, she was happy to hear. “I did know you’d been married before. I am only a little regretful for your sake that you chose someone with quite as many Pluto problems as that woman undoubtedly has. But then, we all have our lessons to learn, don’t we?”

  “Yes, my beloved.”

  Karina sighed and looked deeply into his eyes. “However, oh mountain of manhood, while you are not now a widower, or a bigamist, but instead have become a properly divorced man, you have nonetheless had your wicked way with me under the guise of a false marriage. I was never a legal wife and so now am only your concubine, your plaything, your—”

  He looked back into her eyes, but his hands itched to make the contact more than visual. “A grave matter indeed, my sumptuous slave of scintillating salaciousness. One we should discuss immediately, perhaps, in our bower aboard the Shahrazad?”

  “And shame me further before all of these good people?” she breathed, but took a step backward. “Oh, master, you are too cruel.”

  He snapped his fingers and the planet’s administrator, Rafik, and the ship’s captain all came running. “I wish to remarry my wife at once. Captain? Administrator? You will say the words.”

  “We’re not on board at the moment, sir,” the captain said.

  The administrator quickly stepped forward and said, “There is a ring?”

  Karina slipped off her amethyst wedding ring and gave it to the man, who said, “By the power vested in me, I pronounce you man and wife.”

  “So it has been said, so it will be written, so let it be done,” Hafiz said. “You are satisfied, my flower of feminine virtue?”

  “Not yet,” she breathed and gave him a wink worthy of Yasmin during their heated youth. “But I expect I will be when we return to the ship.”

  Hafiz responded by kissing her hand repeatedly, his kisses going higher and higher, up her sleeve and onto her shoulders, portaging the wisp of fabric that covered the shoulder until he ended at her neck, at which time they were called to dinner.

  The community hall was not quite large enough for all of the settlers who came from miles around to enjoy the party, so tables were set up outdoors. The weather was ideal for such alfresco dining, thanks to the manipulations of Dr. Ngaen Xong Hoa.

  “Useful, this weather wizardry,” Hafiz said, scratching his beard.

  After a bit of preliminary table hopping, Hafiz, Karina, Mercy, and Rafik took one table, and were soon joined by Dr. Hoa and the planet’s administrator. However, some matter or other required the administrator’s attention and he was called away.

  Dr. Hoa leaned in and spoke confidentially to the three members of the House of Harakamian. “I wish to go with you, Mr. and Mrs. Harakamian. My work is done here and indeed, I have repaired all of the damage I was forced to do while I was a prisoner aboard the Haven. My only wish now is to retire to a place where I will not be asked to exploit my discovery any further.”

  Before Hafiz could speak, Rafik raised his hand, palm out, to stop him, and said, “Uncle, I have known for some time of Dr. Hoa’s wish to leave here for a place where he and his discovery will be safe. He wishes to go—where you are going, and regretted that he was not able to accompany our mutual friend there when the first opportunity arose.” Rafik, of course, was deliberately employing vagueness and circumlocutio
n in the event that the conversation was overheard. “Therefore, I took it upon myself to inform him of your destination.”

  “So long as he is the only one, nephew,” Hafiz said with a nod to Dr. Hoa. A long journey with the man might provide Hafiz with the opportunity of convincing the doctor to allow the House of Harakamian to market some small portion of his enviable discovery. “Dr. Hoa is of course always welcome in my home, whether it be on land or in the cosmos.”

  “You are too kind, sir.”

  “In fact, I have been pondering a certain dilemma that has occurred due to the tender sensitivities of my wife and me for the beliefs of our dear little Acorna and her people. Perhaps you will be able to advise me.”

  Dr. Hoa nodded, though he looked a little wary. Hafiz, however, felt certain that the simple homely solutions he was beginning to envision to his security problem would not be offensive to Dr. Hoa’s beliefs, any more than they would be to those of Acorna’s people.

  As soon as the banquet was finished, they made their apologies and took off again, Dr. Hoa smuggling himself aboard with the crew to avoid embarrassing confrontations—or good-byes.

  None of them were aware that the detectors used to find homing transmitters were unable to separate the signals given from the transmitter from those emitted by another similar device—such as a replicator.

  Eleven

  Rocky Reamer and his children, shepherded by Khetala, arrived on Manganos moon base. Khetala had been concerned when she saw the children that were leaving their home—she was very big on children having a home, since she hadn’t had one.

  But Turi and Deeter fielded her careful questions about what they were leaving behind with questions about what lay ahead. They were tired of the nano-bug market, and had knocked around the planet with Rocky since they were babies, living in a motley collection of used recreational vehicles tastefully outfitted as combination bedrooms and merchandise warehouses for the jewelry and rocks. They each brought with them their few changes of clothes, a couple of their favorite stones, and, for Rocky, his tool kit, and left the rest for the other traders to scavenge.

  Rocky didn’t care. Possessions came and went. His family was with him and they were going to be safe, and that was what mattered. Not only that, but he had been able to help Becker and was helping the Lady Acorna and her extended family, and he was sure that was the right thing. To be able to be safe and do the right thing was a terrific combination, as far as he was concerned. He breathed a lot easier once Kheti’s little craft left the planet, and he and the kids got a big kick out of taking the trip off-planet, the first they could remember, together.

  Jana, Chiura, and the other children Kheti had protected while in the mines had heard from the communications officer of the day that their friend was returning to the base. They rushed forward to meet her. Reamer’s kids jumped up and down in excitement to see so many other children jumping up and down, even though they weren’t quite sure what all the fuss was about.

  Close on the heels of the former child slaves were Acorna’s “uncles,” Calum Baird and Declan Giloglie, accompanied by Judit Kendoro.

  Giloglie and Reamer exchanged cautious nods, acknowledging their long-ago acquaintance in a geology class, and Khetala made introductions and explained the situation, then asked Reamer to produce the horn.

  Reamer hesitated for a moment. “Do you really think—in front of all these kids—I mean, it’s pretty serious and from what I’ve heard they look at Lady Acorna as some sort of goddess.”

  Kheti’s hard brown face turned up at him and she said, “These kids, as you call them, have already lost most of their illusions. If Acorna is truly in danger, they will want to know and they will want to help in any way they can. If this horn belongs to her or any of the other Linyaari, someone is going to find that we’re plenty adult enough to make them pay dearly for harming our friends.”

  So Reamer showed the horn and everyone looked. Some wanted to touch it and some put their hands behind their backs and looked frightened. One girl, Jana, began to cry softly.

  “I remember when I’d been beaten in the mines so badly I could hardly move and Acorna touched my wounds with her horn and healed me—it was the first comfort I had had in years and years. This just can’t be hers, Kheti. It just can’t.”

  Calum Baird regarded Reamer suspiciously. “Did you bring this straight to Khetala for her to bring it here?”

  “Yes, sir, I did. Becker was having trouble with a lady who seemed to want to rob him or kill him, so he and the cat took off.”

  “I guess that would explain why he didn’t come to us himself. That and the fact that if he thought the horns were valuable he’d want to secure his source,” Baird said. “Who was the lady? Did your friend say anything about going to see Hafiz Harakamian by any chance?”

  “No, sir. The lady, and I use the term loosely—I’m sorry to be so judgmental but it’s true—is about three nuggets shy of a payload. Her name is Kisla Manjari. Her father used to be a big shot.”

  “We know all about her and her father,” Baird said shortly.

  “Oh.” Reamer blinked. “Oh, of course you do. You guys and Lady Acorna helped bring him down, didn’t you? Well, anyway, Becker and the cat figured they should make themselves scarce but he didn’t say anything about visiting Mr. Harakamian. He said he knew you guys, though, so maybe he met him through your partner, Rafik.”

  “It’s possible,” Baird said thoughtfully. “Laxmi, can you secure a channel for us to talk to Rafik? Uncle Hafiz was headed for Rushima. Let’s see if he got there.”

  They were told that the Shahrazad had just left, but that a spy had been discovered onboard. When Rafik told them who it was, Gill let out a low whistle. About the time his cousin Tapha had been killed, Rafik had regaled his partners with a few stories about Tapha’s dear departed mother, Uncle Hafiz’s first wife.

  “So she’s still alive, huh? That whole family is amazingly hard to kill,” Gill asked. “Well, Yasmin’s interference probably explains the unexpected journey Hafiz and Karina are taking in the middle of their honeymoon.”

  “Oh yes,” Rafik said. “My honored aunt blew some powder in Uncle’s face that turned out to have ground Linyaari horn as part of its chemical composition. You can well imagine where he’s going now.”

  “Yes, but do you think it’s wise for the Shahrazad to go alone?” Calum asked.

  Rafik repeated the conversation he had had with Hafiz, adding that Dr. Hoa had gone with the Harakamians.

  When the transmission ended, Judit was shaking her head. “I don’t like it. I just don’t like it at all. Maybe an army isn’t a good idea, but Hafiz and Dr. Hoa going together—it just sweetens the pot for unscrupulous people like the Piper’s daughter.” She gave Kisla Manjari’s father the nickname the enslaved children had called him when he was still an unknown evil controlling their destinies on Kezdet.

  A moment later, the communication with Rushima was reestablished and Mercy Kendoro’s face appeared on the screen. “Judit? I think it’s about time we got in touch with our brother and the Star-farers, don’t you think? If the Piper’s daughter and some of his old network are able to penetrate even House Harakamian’s defenses, we need to be thinking about security. Has anybody heard from Nadhari Kando?”

  They continued talking about a lot of people, most of whom Reamer had only heard of, if that, in grave tones that suggested danger. It was way too heavy for Reamer. He’d done his job and brought the trouble to the attention of the people who should be able to fix it, and had managed to take himself and his kids out of harm’s way. He didn’t want to hear any more. He didn’t want to know any more. He was a peaceful sort of guy who mostly minded his own business and let other people mind theirs.

  All he wanted was a place to make his living and raise his kids without somebody trying to kill or imprison them. Security arrangements were best left to people who enjoyed being on red alert all the time. He personally was not one of them.

  He dr
ifted to the back of the throng of adults and children crowded around the comscreen. A boy too small to see over the heads of the others admired Reamer’s belt buckle, which he was at eye level with.

  “That’s beautiful, mister. What’s the stone?”

  “Turquoise. Pretty rare now.”

  “I like the frame you put it in. Is that metal silver?”

  “Yeah. I made it myself.”

  “Wow! I wish I could do that.”

  Reamer shrugged. “It’s not that hard. I brought my tools and a few supplies with me. Want me to teach you how?”

  “Boy, do I! I’d love to make something like that with an acornite in the middle. It would make me feel somehow—you know, closer to her.”

  And so Reamer and his kids stayed on Manganos moon. Reamer began teaching the other kids more about looking for gemstones and how to set them in precious metals. Baird and Giloglie looked in once in a while and expressed the wish that they had time to learn.

  Khetala stayed, too, at the insistence of the Kendoro sisters, who felt the younger woman would be in danger from Kisla Manjari’s contacts if she returned to Kezdet right away.

  And then one day, while Reamer was teaching laser torch work to the little boy who had first expressed an urge to learn metalwork, a new ship called for landing clearance on Manganos. The duty officer, Jana that day, called out to the rest of the people in the com center, community hall, school, and administration building rolled into one, that it was the Haven and someone had better fetch Mercy—Rafik and Mercy had returned from Rushima by that time—and Judit. Their brother was aboard.

  Reamer went over to the com station to see what all the fuss was about as the Haven docked, the hatch opened, and out poured dozens of children of all ages, plus one guy a little younger than he was and another guy a whole lot older, and very familiar.

  “Johnny Greene!” Reamer cried when he saw his old friend.