Redline the Stars sq-5

by Andre Norton

  20

  Miceal Jellico watched the spaceport manipulator swing a huge, metal-banded crate to the Solar Queen's wide-open hatch. There, Rael deftly guided the clamps of the starship's smaller version of the all-purpose large-cargo handler into place and signaled to Van Rycke, who was at the controls of their machine, to lock them. A second wave to the outer world caused the holds on the port manipulator to be released.

  Once more, the crate rose. It disappeared through the hatch, where it would be delivered to Dane in the bulk cargo hold for final stowing.

  Jellico walked over to the Cargo-Master. "That the last of the big stun?"

  "Aye," he said as he switched off the motor and swung down from the control seat. "Just those boxes now." He pointed to a tall stack of space-sealed containers of several different types and sizes. "We could handle those manually if need be, not that anyone's Whisperer bait enough to do it while better's available. We won't be getting the real small stuff until tomorrow morning."

  "You and Thorson can manage without your assistant?"

  "We had to manage before she came." He turned his head. "Cofort!" he shouted. "Come on down! Our Captain's pulling rank and commandeering your services."

  Seconds later, the woman joined them. "What now?" she asked, smiling. As she spoke, she rubbed her hands against the legs of her trousers to dry them. Machine help or none, loading and sorting bulk cargo was still heavy work.

  "As Van says, I want to borrow you for a few hours."

  "Sure thing." She saw that he had rented a flier and glanced back at the ship. "It'll only take a few minutes to wash and change ... "

  "No need. Just grab your cap and silicates to screen out Halio's rays."

  "Will do," she responded.

  The Medic returned to the waiting men an edifyingly short time later. "All set," she informed them.

  "Excellent." Jellico pointed to the flier's front passenger seat. "Hop in."

  "Good luck with your lizards," Van Rycke called after him.

  His commander scowled but then raised his hand in farewell. "Just see that none of this valuable cargo's left out to face the rigors of the night air."

  With that, he activated the controls, and the vehicle, a light-duty passenger four-seater, shot away from the Queen.

  Mfceal laughed softly. "He's right about the lizards. I am stealing you to help me on a personal project."

  "So I gathered," Rael responded. "That's tri-dee gear I see on the rear seat unless I'm very much mistaken. — What's the story about the lizards?" she asked curiously. "I thought Canuche didn't have anything worth mentioning in the way of wildlife, especially here in the north."

  "Nothing much in terms of variety, size, or high development on the intelligence scale," he corrected. "What's here is both interesting and important, simply because they are here, if for no other reason.

  "The lizards we're seeking are a prime example. They're small—three inches long excluding that much again of tail—winged, and a beautiful deep green in color. They're relatively common in their natural range but can't be kept in captivity—Canuchean conservation and anticruelty laws forbid any further attempts to do so—and no one's ever been able to study or make any sort of pictorial record of them in the wild. As soon as a person gets even within long-lens range, every lizard present drops into the foliage. If they can be discovered at all, they're hunched up in tight little balls that won't release again until the intruder is gone, depending on camouflage and the poison in their skins to protect them.

  "A number of theories have been proposed to account for the acuity of their senses, particularly since they're equally adept at avoiding time-set, unmanned equipment, and I've got one of my own that I wouldn't go about propounding before too many people for fear I'd be thought straight Whisperer bait."

  "I'm flattered. — What's your explanation?"

  "Some sort of telepathy would account for it." He raised his hand when he saw her look of incredulity. "I'm not talking about the fancy stuff beloved of novelists and video writers. This would be more basic, the ability to sense interest in them, perhaps. In the wild, that'd mean only a couple of things—either a potential mate or a potential predator. An excited xenobiologist would come across as the latter, I should imagine."

  "You may well be right," she agreed slowly. "Biologically, they wouldn't have any reason to develop the power to differentiate more finely, and humans haven't been on the scene long enough to have had much effect on that aspect of their lives."

  "That's about the way I've reasoned it out."

  "What's my part in this?"

  "I want to try an experiment, to see if your presence or

  your active efforts will calm them sufficiently for me to get some shots."

  "But I have no power to draw them! I told you I didn't... "

  "Not directly, maybe, but I've seen how Sinbad and Queex respond to you. Cats have been associated with humans a long time and are noted for the affection they sometimes bestow on those they favor. The same can't be said for hoobats. You've worked your own brand of magic on my six-legged comrade, and I'm hoping something similar might occur with Canuche of Halio's green lizards. At any rate, it'll do no harm to give it a try."

  "No, I suppose not."

  When the Medic remained silent for several seconds, he glanced at her. She was sitting quietly, her expression grave, her eyes lowered.

  Miceal sighed. "This isn't meant to be a trial, Rael. If you really don't want to do it, you can just watch, or we can turn back altogether."

  She looked up. "I know what a coup this would be for you if you could pull it off. I just don't want to disappoint you."

  "No way. It's a chance worth taking, but if it doesn't work out, it doesn't."

  The project was important to him, all right, but Jellico reined in his eagerness. Cofort's gift, assuming she had one in the first place, probably would not work if she was too upset. — Space, he did not want to upset her at all. "You never got a chance to eat," he said. "Reach back there and pull out the sandwiches Frank thoughtfully produced for us. I fear he innocently imagines we'll be stopping for a formal picnic someplace, but we'll be too busy if we succeed and back in good time for dinner if we don't. Either way, you won't have another crack at a meal for a while."

  The woman was not slow to comply. She eagerly wolfed down the Steward's offering, both because she was hungry and because it was extremely good. "Treat Mr. Mura kindly," she advised. "He's an asset not to be underrated."

  "I doubt any member of the Queen's crew would be guilty of that particular error, my friend."

  The flier had not left the spaceport and city very far behind before the nature of the country flowing by beneath them changed abruptly and to Rael's mind much for the worse.

  The yellowish ground was hard, compacted to the point that it could be classed as soft rock rather than soil, and dry save where streams and small rivers knifed their way through it. Vegetation was sparse and low even along the watercourses. It did not exist anywhere in sufficient quantity to significantly hold the particles worked loose from the miserly ground by the forces of weathering.

  "Much of the interior's hardpan like this," Jellico informed her.

  "It seems to go on forever," she replied with distaste.

  "This patch runs about twenty miles wide and some three hundred long. Once we get across it, we'll see some more typical inner coastal land. That's not particularly pretty, either, but it's got some variety, at least."

  The transition was sharp when they reached the end of the hardpan. The countryside now beneath them was wetter than the barren place they had left behind. Its soil was real, and a fairly continuous blanket of plants grew upon it, most of them ranging from ankle to knee high. The common color, varied by a number of lighter and darker exceptions, was a fine, deep green, and Miceal informed his companion that among these fronds, stems, and roots dwelled almost the total roster of the north's terrestrial wildlife, most of which was quite small and very low on


  the intelligence scale.

  The Captain eased their vehicle to the ground. "Let's see

  if we can't rouse some photogenic green lizards. Doctor."

  Taking his tri-dee equipment and a pair of distance lenses, he started moving slowly away from the machine, walking carefully, as if he was trying to become part of the natural world around them. Catching up her share of the equipment, Rael did her best to emulate him.

  They traveled several hundred yards, then he raised his hand to signal a halt. "This should be far enough. There ought to be a few around. Whether we'll be able to get a glimpse of them's another matter."

  Jellico trained his lenses on a patch of vegetation and began to quarter it visually. It betrayed no sign of the little creatures he was seeking, and he moved on to the next clump.

  A quarter of an hour passed before he straightened in satisfaction. "There! I can make out a couple of them. —

  See. They look like little balls of moss."

  The woman spotted them as well. She could discern the lines where limbs and head were tucked in, but there was no sign that either creature was still alive.

  They should be rather pretty little things, she thought, with that green color and equipped with wings. She would like to see them flying around, or even just relaxed enough to let her get a good look at them.

  Green lizards must be harmless, peaceful, slow-flying beings if this was their typical response to interest from other life forms. It worked because their skins contained powerful poison glands; nothing biting into them once would repeat the experiment. Unfortunately, humans could not be repelled by that means, and she was glad Canuchean authorities were taking steps to protect the small animals.

  Rael recalled herself to her purpose for being with this expedition. She did not rightly know how to begin, but she decided after some reflection to start by thinking kindly thoughts about the lizards. If Miceal was right and they could pick up interest in them, they might also be able to read that.

  It was not a major order, at least. She was gently disposed toward them and sympathized with their situation.

  It was probably wise to avoid most so-called intelligent beings, but she truly did wish they would make an exception in this case. She and Jellico meant them no hurt at all. They only wanted to watch a while and capture a few images for later study and enjoyment ...

  For several minutes, it looked as if the experiment was a failure; then a tiny, sharply pointed snout disengaged itself from the living ball and gazed tentatively about. Seconds later, the entire body uncoiled, followed in a breath's space by the second lizard.

  Each animal climbed the stem nearest it and worked its way outward along the bottom of the lowest frond. When they had traveled so far along the big leaves that they started to bend, the creatures deftly released their front legs, retaining their grip with the rear pair and tails. Two membrane-thin, pale green wings unfurled and began to beat slowly to support the lizards' upper bodies.

  Several times, she saw their heads dart in to touch the bottom of a leaf. Were they feeding, she wondered, picking up insects or spores or maybe some extrudate from the plant? Her lenses were not quite good enough to tell her that, but the Captain's tri-dees could be developed at very high magnification and should be able to give them the answer, to that question and to a number of others besides.

  For over an hour, the two green lizards clambered and fluttered from leaf to leaf. At last, both scrambled to the ground and scurried away from the stand of plants. Within moments, the thick growth had completely screened them from the off-worlders' sight.

  The Medic gave a long, lingering sigh. "They were so wonderful," she said softly.

  Jellico looked at her, as he had more than once during the past hour. She had been completely absorbed in watching the little creatures, more so even than he had been himself, and she had been happy in her absorption. Happy and unguarded. He realized this was the first time he had seen her shields go down for any significant length of time.

  Her eyes were bright when they turned to him, but it was no longer possible to read with any certainty what lay behind them.

  "How do you think we did?" she asked.

  He slid his camera back into its case. "If a small part of these come out, we'll have exceeded our goal by a stellar margin. — Thank you, Rael Cofort."

  "My pleasure," she replied, happy in herself and for him, "though I can't rightly say that I did much. I didn't feel anything in particular happening."

  "I'd say it's likely that you helped," he said dryly, "considering that no one has ever before been able to study those little creatures in action since the day they were first discovered."

  The woman frowned. "Miceal, how're you going to explain what we did? We don't really understand it ourselves."

  "I'm not going to attempt an explanation," he responded rather stiffly. "I'll probably forget to mention the telepathy theory altogether."

  "You can't do that!" she told him sharply. "You're too much a scientist."

  "No," he agreed slowly. "I couldn't. I'm only going to touch on it in passing, though, toss it in as a possibility, and suggest we may have succeeded because we were full of hope, not anticipation or excitement that might come across as hunting instinct. I can't say more since we don't know what actually happened or if anything did happen at all. — I imagine you're not eager to wind up as part of an esper research project?"

  "Space, no! I'd hitch a ride on Sanford Jones's glowing comet first." She shuddered. "Apart from the likelihood of running into trouble about the mystery surrounding my mother's antecedents, I know too much medically. There isn't any such thing as esper training and won't be for another few decades—or centuries if the funding dries up.

  All they do now is take folks apart for weeks and sometimes years at a stretch, and they don't always remember to put them back together again."

  "That's more or less the way I had it figured," he said.

  "We can't publish what we tried. If the wrong people read about it and got interested, I wouldn't be able to protect you and neither would Teague. Esper research is a government project, and if they really wanted you for it, they'd get you."

  "They won't hear anything from me," she promised fervently. Rael gave him a sidelong glance. "You're an awful worrier, aren't you?" she remarked. "You can find the gloomy side of anything."

  Jellico laughed softly. "That's a prerequisite for my job.

  A starship Captain lacking that trait doesn't usually last long enough to acquire it. Unfortunately, his ship and everyone else aboard normally go out along with him."

  His fingers drummed on the controls. He glanced at her as determination firmed in him. "Rael, I'd like some answers. None of this will go beyond me, and I know I'm out of my lane, but ... "

  She sighed. "I'd like to be able to do more with animals.

  It seems that might actually be possible, and I'll work at it, but right now, I have to stand by what I said before. I don't know what happened here or if anything happened. I certainly can't supply an explanation."

  "I'm not challenging that."

  "What are you challenging?"

  "Nothing. I just want to put a few questions to rest." The gray eyes gripped hers. "What happened to you in the Red Garnet?"

  Her breath caught, and she started to frown, but she stopped herself. Ali and the others were this man's shipmates and subordinates. They would have described the whole incident in detail for him even if they had kept quiet about that part of it in front of the Patrol-Colonel. "I panicked."

  "Aye. Why?"

  2

  Her eyes wavered. "I felt. . . something in there. What,

  I don't know, though believe that I've tried to figure it out. Maybe it was the rats' collective hunger, maybe some afterglow of the victims' horror and pain. Maybe it was something filthier, the eagerness of the subbiotics who could run an operation like that. They probably saw every stranger who walked into their lair as potential prey." She shuddered. "
It was all over the place, choking and draining me.

  I— I had to get out of there!"

  She regained command of herself. "I figured, too, as much as I could reason, that the others'd follow if I ran. Of course, a fight almost erupted instead . . ."

  Her lips tightened into a hard line. "I've got no excuse.

  I blew it badly, and you'd have been within your rights to boot me off the ship."

  "None of my lads asked for that," he responded quietly.

  Her eyes, which had been fixed on her clasped hands,

  lifted. "Would . . . would you have done it?"

  "No. I'd have upheld your contract. Your term of service is almost out, and you're not going back into space with us."

  She just nodded. Jellico watched her for a moment. If he was ever going to hear the rest, it would have to be now, while she was thoroughly demoralized. "How can you function as a Medic?" he asked bluntly. Her answer to that could break her story, and it could give him some of the insight into her that he ever more strongly wanted to have.

  "I don't have a problem with that," the woman responded without hesitation.

  Her brows came together as she sought words to convey her meaning. "I'm definitely not what is usually thought of as an empath. I don't experience another's pain or emotions, but I do feel—uneasy when someone nearby is ill or injured. It is not a pleasant feeling. It's horrible, in point of fact, but it's not debilitating."

  For a moment, anger drove back her pallor. "That's how I found the poor apprentice on the Mermaid. I knew something was wrong and hunted until I discovered him.

  If I hadn't, he'd probably have died where he lay. Slate certainly wouldn't have bothered looking for him even if he were missed in time. The bastard never even came to see him when he was dying." Her voice cracked. "Oh damn . . ." she muttered as she was forced to fall silent.

  Miceal's fingers brushed hers. "It's all right to care, you know," he told her gently. "Space, you're a Medic. You're supposed to care."

  Cofort withdrew her hand. "The effect isn't cumulative," she went on, her tone steady and impersonal once more. "I was afraid it might prove so when I started my emergency room rotation, but I had no difficulty. I was able to set the discomfort aside the same as if I were dealing with a single patient and get on with my work."