Acorna’s People

by Anne McCaffrey

“Well, I’ll be, if it isn’t Rocky Reamer!” Greene responded, pumping his hand and clapping him on the back. “Who set off enough blasting powder to get you into space after all these years? I thought your feet were rooted dirtside.”

  Reamer explained.

  He had first met Greene through some rock hound friends, years ago, and Greene had had him make a piece for some lady he was interested in back then. They’d hit it off and since then had run into each other off and on over the years when Greene was dirtside, where he liked to cruise the nano-bug markets, or needed another piece of jewelry, or had found some interesting mineral specimens he wanted to unload. Though up until now Reamer had been a wayfarer and Greene had been a space-farer, their paths crossed often enough for them to know they liked each other. When you had similar interests and some of the same friends, it could be a pretty small universe.

  “I didn’t know you had any kids,” Johnny said, when introduced to Turi and Deeter. “When did you get married?”

  “Right after you were on Kezdet last,” Reamer said, pretending to look only at the tops of his children’s heads to hide the fast blinking he had to do when he talked about Almah. “We had a good life for a while there.” He tried a grin and managed it. “Now Turi has to look after us.”

  “They’re a handful, too,” Turi said in a dry way that made Johnny laugh.

  “But look who’s talking,” Reamer said, indicating the scores of young people and children that now swarmed into the building. “These all yours?”

  “Not by a long shot,” he said. “The Haven is a Starfarers ship. These kids are the survivors of the original crew. The ship took aboard some banditos pretending to be refugees, and they overpowered the adults in charge of the ship and spaced them. Fortunately, Calum there”—Johnny lifted his arm to wave at Baird who was crossing to meet him—“and Acorna were able to help my buddy Markel liberate Dr. Hoa, who was being held by the bandits, and provide sufficient diversion that the kids of the original Starfarers’ Council were able to regain control of the ship and do unto the bandits as they had done unto the Council. I was already aboard as tech crew and the bandits didn’t bother me, so I was able to help Markel and the others when the opportunity came. Pal Kendoro also came aboard later to help out. He got a hail from his sisters and the whole ship felt like it was time for shore leave. So here we are.”

  Reamer shook his head, laughing. “Never a dull moment, eh, Johnny?”

  “Not if I can help it. Though there were times when I wished life was a little less exciting, to tell you the truth,” Greene admitted.

  Later, in the dining hall, when the moon base community was taking its evening meal, the Starfarers joined them. Adreziana, Pal Kendoro, Johnny Greene, his friend Markel, and other members of the Starfarers’ Council sat at a table with Baird, Giloglie, Nadezda, and the Kendoro sisters. Normally the adult administrators spread themselves throughout the dining hall, making themselves available to hear any problems or complaints from the student/residents. But the kids were all aware by now of the Linyaari horns that had been found and everyone was anxious to make sure Acorna and her people were well and that no harm had come to them.

  Reamer joined the table at Baird and Gill’s invitation. Khetala was there, too. He smiled at her as he sat down, but Kheti never seemed to smile. He thought that what had happened to her in the slave labor camps—and after—when she had been taken by the Didis—must have been pretty horrible for her to be so grim.

  The other kids from her camp had told him how she had protected them and taken beatings herself to save the younger, weaker ones. And then when she grew too big to work the mines, she’d been sold to the Didis. After Acorna freed her, she had gone right back to the house where she had been brutalized and raped, to help the other girls there learn skills that would let them earn their livings without having to sell their bodies.

  Reamer felt ashamed that he had never actually considered that the girls he had occasionally enjoyed in the past might not be enjoying themselves at all, or what might have been done to them to make them flexible and willing parties to any whim he happened to have. His face flushed to match his hair every time he saw Kheti now, or found her looking at him.

  Turi and Deeter were at another table that had been joined by some of the younger Starfarers. His kids were listening wide-eyed to the adventures the travelers were telling about their most recent journeys. Poor kids. He had never had the wherewithal to take them off Kezdet. He had been so terrified, after Almah’s death, of ending up unable to support them and having them taken from him and sent to the camps.

  “Rocky, would you tell ’Ziana and Pal what you told us about the horn?” Judit Kendoro asked. The horn Reamer had brought with him was making the rounds of the table.

  He repeated his story. The frowns of the Starfarer captain, her advisors, and the council members deepened as they listened.

  “You say your uncle has gone to find Acorna alone?” ’Ziana asked Rafik. She was a bright young lady and not hard to look at, Reamer thought. He could see Pal Kendoro shared his opinion.

  Rafik nodded. “It’s a big ship but he took no extra weaponry with him, for fear of alienating the Linyaari. Of course, his people are all well trained at hand-to-hand combat, and the ship is equipped with certain long range weapons that would be almost impossible to disable. Still, for threats like the one posed by Yasmin or her employers, he doesn’t have much protection. I could see that it worried him, but he told me he would deal with it.” Rafik shrugged. “If anyone can take care of himself in a wide variety of circumstances, it’s Hafiz.”

  “Still,” ’Ziana said, “they should have some backup. Not to invade narhii-Vhiliinyar, of course, but just to make sure they don’t come under attack.”

  “I wish Mr. Li’s forces were still available to us,” Pal said.

  “House of Harakamian has that kind of resource,” Rafik said. “But I don’t think Uncle would appreciate it if I undermined his decision by sending an armed escort after the Shahrazad.”

  “No,” Mercy said. “It would be hard for Acorna’s people to understand that an unarmed Harakamian arriving on their world followed by an armed House of Harakamian escort is not the same thing as an armed Harakamian. Besides which, the course mapped out by Calum and Acorna to narhii-Vhiliinyar is not common knowledge. It shouldn’t be.”

  “We could go,” ’Ziana said. “We’re known to Acorna and the people who were with her. Even though we’re armed, we’ve a shipload of children. We won’t be suspected of trying to incite a war or coerce anyone, but we could still guard Rafik’s uncle.”

  “We owe Acorna and all of you big time,” Markel said. “Not only for helping us free ourselves from our parents’ murderers, but for healing our wounded and helping us restore the good name of the Starfarers by taking Dr. Hoa to repair the damage his weather-control device had done while we were controlled by Nueva Fallona and her Palomellese gang.”

  Pal interjected, “That’s true enough, Markel, but even though the current crew of the Haven has won a couple of battles and has some weapons, you’re not an army or a police force. And as you yourself said, you are, when all is said and done, a ship whose crew is mostly comprised of children.”

  “That’s to our advantage though,” ’Ziana pointed out. “We’re Starfarers. We go everywhere and everyone knows it. No one will suspect we’re deliberately guarding the Shahrazad. They’ll believe us if we say it was a chance encounter.”

  “I see that,” Pal said, “But we’re still not soldiers or police. Many of our number are still under twelve.”

  “Some of the fiercest fighters in history have been kids,” Markel said.

  Kheti had been very silent, but now she said, “It’s good to know how to fight to protect yourself and others but Pal is right. We are none of us professional fighters and if Kisla Manjari and her uncle are using some of the same network her father once employed, they are very professional indeed.”

  “Training is all we need,�
�� ’Ziana said. “That and maybe a little advice. And the coordinates where you believe the Linyaari home world to be, Mr. Baird. We won’t need your course.” She glanced at Johnny Greene. “We Starfarers have our own methods of navigating.”

  The Council members were all nodding. Reamer could see Pal and the others were outnumbered. Pal sighed and said, “Okay, but if this adviser could give one more piece of advice—the one member of Mr. Li’s staff who is still available, as far as I know, is Nadhari Kando. If you have to have one trainer and adviser, she’s the one.”

  “The last I heard, she was staying in General Ikwaskwan’s compound, helping train his troops,” Mercy said.

  “Now, that’s handy,” Pal said. “If we need extra fire power it’s right there. We could apprise the general of the situation, too. With your authorization, Rafik, we could retain the Red Bracelets on a standby basis in case your uncle runs into further problems.”

  “That’s a good idea, Pal,” Rafik said. “Meanwhile, I can speak with Federation officials about possible sentient rights violations. Trafficking in the horns of non-Federation peoples known to be sentient surely must break some kind of law.”

  “And I can get the authorities on Kezdet off their duffs and launch an investigation into Ganoosh’s illegal activities,” Gill said.

  “I think someone could just try using the secure channels on the com lines instead of everyone going rushing off into space,” Judit suggested.

  Calum shook his head. “I wondered why Hafiz didn’t do that instead of seeking out Rafik in person. Even when he spoke to me, he used a kind of personal code. I realized that he suspected his own security had been breached. As a precaution, I took a look at our equipment and programs. They’re all manufactured by Kezdet-Kom, which is a wholly owned subsidiary of Interlay Enterprises, which is owned by a company owned by Ganoosh. Our security programs are manufactured by another of his puppets.”

  “Just can’t get good help these days,” Gill growled.

  “We’ll go find her,” ’Ziana rejoined

  Kheti said, “I’m going with you. Pal has been out of the camps too long. I can identify quite a few of Manjari’s perverts for Nadhari and the general if they need me to. If the Piper’s cronies are causing trouble again, I want to personally make sure they’re stopped. None of us will be safe until that whole machine is destroyed, once and for all.”

  “I think that’s a little beyond the scope of our mission, Khetala, but you’re very welcome,” Markel said. The other council members nodded assent.

  “Daddy, we should go, too,” Turi said. Reamer had been so engrossed in watching the proceedings that he hadn’t noticed his kids had wandered over to stand behind him, where they had apparently been taking in every word. “The horn is ours. Mr. Becker gave it to us to help the Lady and her people. We should be the ones to take it to them.”

  Reamer didn’t much like conflict of any kind and the idea of kids doing battle with people like Edacki Ganoosh scared the living daylights out of him. But so did the idea of his kids being plucked up like ripe fruit for Kisla Manjari and her uncle to use as they wished.

  If there were going to be lessons for youngsters on how to take care of themselves from a former captain of the notorious Red Bracelets like Nadhari Kando, Turi and Deeter should be in on them. Him, too. Not that he’d be much good at combat. But maybe he could repair weapons or something. Bound to be able to make himself useful one way or the other. And it sounded like a wild adventure.

  Johnny Greene clinched it by growling into his ear, “If the manure hits the ventilator in Kezdet, you and the kids will be well out of harm’s way coming with us to see Nadhari and the general. You don’t think the Kendoros and Acorna’s uncles would agree to the Starfarers taking on the recruiting mission unless they thought that was the best way of keeping the Starfarers our of harm’s way, do you?”

  “Yeah,” Reamer said, hoping he wouldn’t be sorry. “Count us in, too.”

  Twelve

  The entire city—or village, as it seemed more to Acorna—was filled with the sound of people bidding farewell, the sight of people touching horns, and a long line trudging up to the spaceport, duly accompanied by the Ancestors at their deliberate pace which would make any space traveler itch for warp speed. In a matter of an hour or two, the Fabergé egg crate spaceport was emptied of ships.

  Grandam Naadiina, who had been so reassuring the night before, looked suddenly much older as she gazed skyward watching the eggs bounce into the air and disappear beyond the clouds. Then she became very busy about her quarters for quite a while. Maati’s lower lip trembled. “What if they don’t come back?” she asked aloud.

  “The whole fleet? Not come back? Don’t talk foolishness, child,” Grandam said briskly, but Acorna knew the old lady was as upset as the child.

  Thariinye appeared at the open flap. “Just thought I’d check up on you ladies. Liriili felt it was important that at least one responsible, well-traveled male remain dirtside to look after the women and children and show a bit of leadership for the other males.”

  Grandam’s mouth quirked with annoyance.

  Thariinye continued. “Of course, I could have had my pick of berths, but I wished to honor Liriili’s wishes. The poor lady is overwhelmed right now with so much happening.”

  “She’s hardly the only one,” Grandam said sharply. “Khornya was going to go visiting this morning but I hardly think people will be in the mood for guests. Perhaps this would be a better time for her to see the compound of the techno-artisans. Thariinye, perhaps you could demonstrate a bit of that sterling leadership capability of yours by showing Khornya the way?”

  “Certainly, Grandam,” he said with an eagerness that indicated spending time with Khornya was exactly what he wished to do.

  The walk was not long but it was very dull. Thariinye went on at great length about his importance in different organizations and families. Acorna saw some long blue grasses she would have liked to ask about, but he was in the middle of a story of how he came to be elected the giirange of the Order of the Irriinje, which he did bother to explain was the name for a noble bird which, on the home world, had lent its name to the similarly noble members of the organization. His babble was annoying, but she knew him well enough to realize it was partly because while the emergency had galvanized him to action, there was no action required of him. His nervous energy had nowhere to go. Had she not had so much else to worry about herself, she might have reacted the same way.

  Once they reached the techno-artisans’ compound, however, the trip became very interesting indeed. The pavilions were as large as landing bays and had a great deal of shiny machinery and many comscreens, plus huge bins of various metals, rocks, and gemstones. Acorna was enthralled by the central area of the huge main pavilion, where a large egg-shaped spacecraft in the process of having its outer decoration applied brooded over the bustling techno-artisans. It rather looked as if the egg was presiding over the chicken yard, instead of the other way around.

  “The hull was shaped two pavilions over,” the artisan in charge told her. He was a fraternity brother of Thariinye’s and had been introduced to her as Naarye.

  Beyond the ship under construction, in the background, sat two gigantic hulls, their hatches gaping and cavernous. Hulking as they were, they had escaped her notice at first, as other work proceeded in front of them and regardless of them, as if they weren’t there. Unlike the ship in the middle, which looked like a flitter by comparison, the leviathans had plain dark paint jobs with no decorations.

  “I’ve never seen such large ships used by the Linyaari,” Acorna said. “What are those for? Are they here for repair? Is that why they aren’t up at the port?”

  Naarye shook his head. “Now those are a piece of Linyaari history, Lady. It just happens that right now they’re a piece nobody wants to look at. They’re the two big evacuation transports that brought the people of our fair city from Vhiliinyar to Kubiilikhan. The port was built after we arrive
d, and they’re too big to fit up there; besides, nobody much wants to look at them. It takes a crew of at least twenty people fully trained and checked out on that particular model to fly them and far more fuel than we could scrape together at a moment’s notice.”

  Acorna could only imagine that the monster ships would need to escape the planet’s gravity well.

  “We could have them operational again if we absolutely had to, but it would take time and plenty of muscle to tune up the drives, fuel the vessels, and get them out of here, especially if we hope to leave both them and the pavilion intact. We keep them here because it gives our people a little sense of security knowing they’re available, but at the same time, the people don’t want to be reminded they might need them again.”

  Naarye was being more than polite to her but he, too, was clearly affected by giving the transport ships too much attention, so Acorna returned his courtesy by changing the subject.

  “I’m fascinated by the decorations on the ship you’re working on and the others I’ve seen. The Balakiire’s pattern, for instance, was quite different. Do you determine the designs personally?” she asked. The craft in front of them was being adorned with multicolored panels forming a sort of flame pattern, outlined in what appeared to be gilt.

  Naarye beamed and waved his hand in a lordly way toward the spacecraft. “Handsome, isn’t it? It is the pennant pattern of Clan Haarilnyah, the oldest clan extant among us. In answer to your question, we”—and here he said a word in Linyaari which was unpronounceable to Acorna, even though she was becoming more facile with Linyaari every day. She understood it to mean outer hull embellishment specialists—“adapt the designs for the hulls from the pennants of a clan or an individual distinguished enough to have a personal banner. We are doing it in rotation according to both their geographical and astrological position on Vhiliinyar in relation to the moons and also according to historical date, in inverse order. We keep very strict records. No one must be offended.”