Power Lines

by Anne McCaffrey

  “Seems to have done,” Seamus replied affably, helping Marmion up onto the copter’s high passenger level. “Think on it awhile. It’ll come to you.”

  “Outrageous,” George said, his face contorted into a sneer. “Waste of valuable time.”

  “I’m not sure how we’ll explain our defection to Dr. Luzon,” Marcel said dismally, the first sentence Marmion had heard him speak.

  “Ah, but you don’t have to, my dears,” she said, buckling her seat belt. “I shall assume all responsibility for this expedition, and I’m sure such industrious young men as yourselves will be able to complete your assigned tasks well before Dr. Luzon returns.”

  “Do you mean to imply, ma’am,” Hans said, eyeing her suspiciously, “that we should conceal our dereliction of duty from Dr. Luzon?”

  “Heavens no, Hans dear,” Marmion said soothingly, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I wouldn’t conceal a thing from Matthew Luzon,” she added drolly. “It just isn’t done! But I shall assure him that I dragooned you, as necessary escorts, on a personal, and possibly dangerous, inspection of the so-called remarkable cave where everyone else seems to have had most incredible experiences.” She made a moue of disappointment and turned to Seamus. “Really,” she said, and she stretched out the next two words to express her disillusion, “nothing happened.”

  “We lost thirty hours,” Hans said in an implacable and unforgiving tone. “It’ll be dark by the time we get back to SpaceBase.”

  “Well, there’ll be a little time before you have to have dinner,” Marmion said.

  “We’ll work tonight,” Hans said, making eye contact with his associates. “We’ll catch up that way.”

  “Oddly enough,” Millard remarked, “I feel totally refreshed, with an unusual sense of well-being. Anyone else?”

  Sally made a small “oh” of surprise. “I do, too. And I don’t think I was asleep . . .”

  Marmion did not remark on the fact that she, too, felt unusually alert and energetic: as if she could dance all night long and still put in a full day’s work tomorrow.

  It occurred to her that maybe the planet had a totally unexpected and exploitable facet—for rest cure facilities. However, she intended to go very slowly on that one, since this party seemed to be the only one to have enjoyed that aspect. Had they just been lucky? Had the planet, as Seamus had suggested, settled down after its aberrant behavior? Even so, she felt almost . . . almost effervescent. And she hadn’t experienced that buoyancy in a long, long time.

  As soon as Yana saw the little curraghs nearing the wharf, she raced as fast as she dared down the steps to tell Sean the news. Ardis Sounik had confirmed that much of what Johnny Greene had off-loaded was the fuel they would need and Sean’s special supplies for his journey. And that Johnny had gone on to Bogota with Luzon, who was up to no good at all. Johnny had hinted broadly that Luzon was bad news. Nanook, who had vanished from the village for some time, suddenly reappeared, fur full of mud and burrs, to bound alongside her. He seemed about to explode with news, too. He licked her hand at one point while she watched the curraghs approach, rubbed his handsome face against her shoulder, and looked deeply into her eyes.

  She sensed he was trying to talk to her, but she just didn’t know how to listen. But as they descended, all the other cats of the settlement started hurrying in the opposite direction.

  “What on earth?” Yana began.

  Bunny, something said quite clearly in her head.

  “Did you speak, Nanook?”

  He gave her a resigned look and a sort of growly purr.

  “I don’t mean to be difficult to communicate with, Nanook. Nod your head if Bunny’s safe and coming?”

  Nanook solemnly inclined his head.

  “That is such a relief.” Yana stroked his fine pelt in appreciation. “Maybe one day, we’ll hold a meaningful conversation,” she added, emboldened by her relief.

  Soon.

  “Oh!”

  Just then Sean appeared over the edge of the high harbor wall and she ran into his arms, burbling to tell him that Johnny had managed to leave off fuel here in the fjord. Even with Sean smelling to high heaven of fish oils and brine, it was good to have his arms about her and see his smile of delight at her enthusiastic welcome. Then Nanook, who had sat in dignified patience, obviously spoke to Sean, who smiled broadly and fondled the track-cat’s ears.

  “Bunny and Diego are on their way here, and Shush, the one cat who survived at McGee’s Pass, is just a ways behind them. Nanook rendezvoused with her to reassure her and protect her most of the way, but he left to return to us so we wouldn’t worry about the kids anymore. He says the village must be good to Shush. She needs to be safe again.”

  “She’s not the only one. When does he expect them all to arrive, Sean? I’ve been getting quite worried.”

  Sean shrugged. “Probably by nightfall.” His arm tightened about her. “No point in wasting energy backtracking. Nanook says they’re okay.”

  “Run that past me again, Sean, about one cat, surviving at McGee’s Pass? Only one? What happened to the others? I thought the cats were cared for in all the villages, the way Clodagh looks after the ones in Kilcoole—”

  “And they look after her. Yes, that’s very serious news to me, too. A village with only one surviving cat is a village in very serious trouble.”

  “Sean, what did we let those children in for?”

  “We’ll know soon enough,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders in comfort and reassurance. “The fact that Nanook has stayed here means they’re okay, no matter what else. See what I brought you for your dinner, love?” And he held up the pair of rainbow-scaled fish as long as his forearm and considerably thicker.

  “Oh, good, Ardis has some potatoes left, and we thawed carrots and onions. Bunny and Diego’ll be hungry when they get here.”

  “Yes, and we, too, for their news.”

  When Bunny and Diego, who was carefully supporting the wounded Dinah in his arms, arrived at dusk, the evening meal was ready but remained uneaten while more important matters were attended to.

  Bunny nodded once at the six place settings at the table. “How did you know we were coming?” she asked. “Oh, I know. Nanook, of course. He started to run past us, stopped long enough for a sniff, and ran away. We didn’t see him return though.”

  “He saw you, though,” Sean replied. “He was going to the aid of an orange cat from McGee’s Pass. I don’t suppose you saw her on the way?”

  But Bunny didn’t answer, shook her head, preoccupied. Her attention had been captured by watching the movements of Ardis’s gentle hand sewing up Dinah’s wounds, setting the five broken ribs and the hind leg bone. She splinted the tail, too, but feared that all nerve connections might have been severed. Dinah had managed to convey to Diego that after the man had clubbed her with his staff, he’d caught her by the tail and slammed her against the nearest tree.

  Diego had been a thundercloud ready to burst until Ardis had reassured him that, except for the possible damage to her tail, the lead dog would completely recover from her mistreatment. While this was going on, Bunny gave a quick résumé of the situation of the cowed and subjugated folks at McGee’s Pass, Satok’s activities, and the unthinkable sealing of the cave.

  “What Bunny doesn’t say,” Diego began, as Fingaard gently transferred Dinah to a thick blanket near the hearth, “was what that Satok damned near did to her.”

  “It’s what he’s done to the planet that’s more awful,” Bunny contradicted him with a fierce look, and tears started in her eyes. “I could escape, but oh, Uncle Sean, he’s made it impossible for anyone to talk to the planet at McGee’s Pass.”

  “He was going to rape you!” Diego said, almost shouting.

  “He’s already raped our planet!” Bunny yelled back, fists on her waist, body inclined angrily toward Diego.

  “Bunny! Diego!” Sean said, snapping out their names in a quiet but very firm voice. “Now that Dinah’s safe, you can ta
ke turns while we all eat, giving us a complete telling of what happened at McGee’s Pass.”

  “Quite right,” Ardis said, pushing first one and then the other young person to a seat at the table while Fingaard brought over the baked fish. Yana quickly added the vegetable bowls to the table, and order was restored as appetites were attended to.

  “Diego’s making a song about it, too,” Bunny said.

  Diego glared at her, a mix of irritation, pleasure, and artistic indignation. “It’s nowhere near ready.”

  “It’ll be some song when it is, I can tell you that,” Bunny said, beaming at him.

  “We’ll listen very closely whenever the song is ready, Diego,” Ardis said reassuringly.

  “Now, step by step, please,” Sean said, bringing them back to the report.

  None of the adults interrupted the two youngsters, as they gave a very credible narration of all that had happened, each giving due credit to the other and to Krisuk’s efforts. Both Sean and Fingaard had them repeat several points, such as the question of the Petraseal and how far it extended into the cave, and all the details of Satok’s background that Bunny had so cleverly wheedled out of him.

  “You sly and clever puss,” Sean had said, ruffling her hair with affectionate approval. When he saw Diego scowl darkly, he ruffled the boy’s, too, laughing when Diego pulled away. “She is my niece, lad. You’re lucky I’m willing to share her company with you!”

  “Huh?” was Diego’s stunned response.

  “Now,” Fingaard said, taking charge, his roughened scale-scarred finger making circles on the wooden table, “we have an enemy who needs watching. We have a cave that has been damaged. Can this Petraseal be dissolved?”

  “Yes, but the chemical compound of such a solvent is not available at SpaceBase,” Sean said.

  “It’d take barrels of solvent,” Diego said, widening his eyes as he estimated the area to be resurrected. “An awful lot.”

  “Yes,” Sean said. “Any solvent strong enough to dissolve Petraseal might very well be more harmful to Petaybee than the Petraseal is.”

  “If this has been done at McGee’s Pass where the people are just like us, only vulnerable from not having a shanachie for so long,” Ardis said, frowning in concern, “can it have been done elsewhere, too? Is it so easy for this Satok to mislead people so they can fail to hear the planet?”

  “That thought had also occurred to me,” Sean said and sighed heavily. “We came here with a specific purpose . . .”

  Fingaard’s great hand came down on Sean’s shoulder. “There is much we can do now that we know what has happened, my friend, and you can pursue your personal quest which, I have come to feel, is as important as this new problem.”

  “Then you believed that Aoifa and Mala were right that there’d been an undersea passage to the south from the fjord caves? If they were right, we could establish communications, maybe even a trade route, with the southern continent without company technology for air travel or ice-breaking ships.”

  Fingaard nodded solemnly several times. “In my father’s time creatures emerged from the caves that were born on land, and not undersea, and not here in the north. Mala sent his track-cat back but she had been badly injured. Only the great loyalty these creatures have for those they love could have kept the beast going until it reached us. We searched, as you know, as far as we could, but the cavern roof had collapsed and our way was blocked.” This time his nod was full of sorrowful regret. “But we also saw nothing of Aoifa or her track-cat, Ugraine, so perhaps they were able to go further.”

  Sean laid his hand on Fingaard’s arm, looking up at the large, concerned face. “Now that I’ve seen the site, I think there’s a chance that might have happened. I was going to come here and look before, but the accident took us all by surprise and I was delayed, what with arrangements to be made for Bunka and all—and then, when we held a night chant in their honor in our village, I got a definite sense that both of them were gone. Feeling that, I couldn’t bring myself to come. Now that I have seen the tunnel, however, I get a little different sense of things. Someone could have got out, got to the other side. I owe it to myself and to the family to explore that possibility.”

  They were all startled by an unearthly screeching that penetrated the thick wall of the stone house. It rose and fell, deepened and split into savage howls. Growling deep in his throat, Nanook lifted his head from his paws, and his expression was one of offended dignity and disgust. Sean started to laugh, a tuneful descant to the cacophony outside.

  “Why does that awful caterwauling make you laugh, Sean Shongili?” Yana demanded. The noise was earsplitting.

  Ardis gave a disgusted expression. “The village toms are courting, not that I ever remember them making that much noise before.”

  Wiping tears from his eyes, Sean managed to control himself enough to explain.

  “It’s Shush.” He turned to Bunny and Diego. “The McGee’s Pass cat.”

  “Shush made it here?” Delighted, Bunny started to rise, only to have Sean push her firmly back into her chair.

  “Don’t interfere with her right now, honey. She wouldn’t appreciate it.” And he started to rock with laughter once more.

  “Sean Shongili, that’s not enough of an explanation!” Yana complained.

  Unable to speak, Sean waggled his hand at Nanook who, with great condescension, spoke to Bunny. Once she got the message straight, she started to giggle, too.

  “Not the pair of you!” Yana said. She felt she could use a laugh right now with the rest of them.

  “Shush was the last cat in McGee’s Pass,” Bunny said, “and there were no toms for her. I think she’s making up for a lot of lost opportunities!”

  “Do they have to do it here, and now?” Ardis protested.

  “Now, lass,” Fingaard said, grinning as he pulled his wife close to him, “you’ve sounded somewhat like that yourself a time or two when I’ve returned from a long voyage.”

  Half-irate, Ardis tried to push her huge spouse away from her, batting vainly at his hands while everyone joined in the laughter. “Never like that, you big oaf!”

  One more excruciating cry jarred their eardrums, and then there was blessed silence.

  “Well, then,” Sean said, “let’s turn in and get a good night’s sleep. We’ve an expedition to start . . .” He turned queryingly to Ardis.

  “Oh, Johnny brought all the gear you need, and rations for twice the distance,” Ardis said, flicking her hand to the outside storage shed. Then she rose, gathering plates up as she did so. Yana and Bunny were instantly on their feet, followed almost immediately by Diego.

  The cottage was very shortly occupied by sleepers, so no one noticed the small orange-striped cat who crept in wearily but utterly fulfilled and curled up near the hearth.

  Johnny Greene was not at all happy to leave Geedee—how could anyone lumber a child with a disgusting name like Goat-dung—anywhere in the vicinity of Matthew Luzon, though he had perfect faith that she would be safe with Lonciana Ondelacy and her family.

  He was especially worried because the child seemed far too content to be in Luzon’s presence, looking up eagerly when he spoke and tripping all over herself to answer his every question. Who the frag had ever said that kids could tell scoundrels from saints?

  And Luzon, the old hypocrite, was a real smoothie when reassuring the poor frightened and self-deprecating kid, while conveying at the same time how fortunate she was that he wanted to talk to her. Frag, she practically apologized for breathing the same air they did.

  Johnny hadn’t wanted to take Matthew along when he went to look up his old shipmate Loncie, now a grandmother and one of the community leaders of Sierra Padre. But Matthew had pompously declared that he was determined to do his duty as ranking company official in seeing that the girl had “a suitable placement,” and Geedee had looked up at him with wide eyes and clung to his hand.

  In the twenty years or so since Loncie had retired and returned to Petaybe
e, she had acquired quite a bit of weight, an air of authority far exceeding that she had wielded as a chief petty officer, and an incredibly large family. Now almost as round as she was tall, she wore her thick black hair, still only lightly threaded with silver, in an array of braids, secured to her head with an intricately carved and immensely valuable—Johnny saw Matthew looking at the artifact covetously—ivory comb that had not come from any creature supposedly native to this planet.

  “Ah, pobrecita!” Lonciana cried when she saw the girl. She barely acknowledged Johnny’s cautious introduction of Matthew Luzon and his assistant. Instead, she lifted and clasped to an ample bosom the startled, wide-eyed, scrawny waif. “Qué lástima! What has life been doing to you?” Her black eyes snapped with anger directed at Matthew.

  “Easy, now, Loncie,” Johnny said. “We found her on the flats. She says she’s from some hellhole called the Vale of Tears.”

  Loncie sucked her breath in between her teeth and her eyes narrowed angrily.

  “We have heard of such a place,” she said. “Tsering Gonzales’s boy, who was never right in the head, he said he was going there. He had heard of the place from someone who came trading poorly made cloth for supplies—the man had a boy with him. The boy ran away and long after Jetsun left, Tsering heard tales the boy had told the family that took him in. It is a terrible place. They beat and frighten the children with the most outrageous superstitious nonsense and call it religion! Or so I’ve heard tell.”

  Matthew Luzon looked as if someone had just given him a gift and opened his mouth to speak, but Loncie had returned to her new charge. “Never mind, pobrecita, you are safe here with Lonciana Ondelacy.”

  Johnny didn’t want Loncie to take a wily bastard like Luzon too lightly, and flashed her a rather urgent glance, which she caught and immediately understood. Turning to Luzon, she radiated her own considerable charm.

  “Do be seated, most gracious Señor Luzon and rescuer of this little scrap of humanity. Pablo, have you not brought the wine? Carmelita, you and Isabella see to the needs of this little one.”