Mahree stared at him, stunned and speechless.
"There are at least ten other sentient races in this part of the galaxy. We belong to an organization that such races may join. In our language, it is called"--Dhurrrkk' voiced several guttural grunts, as a series of Simiu characters flashed across the screen.
Mahree hastily enabled a definition search. The closest the program could come was "The Amiable/Helpful/Cooperative Cluster/Group/League/Union of (Planetary/Star) Systems." She picked terms nearly at random, and ventured, "The Cooperative League of Systems?"
"Yes, that is how it would translate into your language," Dhurrrkk' told her.
"There are many races. They set trade rules; they maintain peace in the dealings of one member with another. Ordinarily, they do not interfere in the internal runnings of planetary governments, unless they threaten League peace." He looked thoughtful. "Threats to the peace are very rare, since global peace is one of the requirements to become even a provisionary member--which is what my world is."
"Why aren't you full members?"
"We have not yet initiated a successful First Contact with another sentient, non-League world," Dhurrrkk' told her, bleakly. "And the way the situation appears now, it seems we are not going to succeed with that in the near future, either."
"Oh ..." breathed Mahree, as several things suddenly became clear. "That's why you didn't tell us about the CLS--you were afraid we'd bypass you and go directly to the full members, and we were your chance at a full membership!"
"Yes," Dhurrrkk' confirmed. "Our world has been close to full membership for years, though our internal territorial disputes are not regarded favorably . . .
but, since they tend to be relatively bloodless, the League overlooks them.
And our honor-code
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is regarded as something sacred to our people, so it does not come under League . . ."he paused for a translation, "League jurisdiction," he finished.
"Ever since we were contacted by the League, there has been competition between Hurrreeah--my world--and its colonies to see which world would fulfill the final requirement for full League membership.
"That is why we did not inform our colonies of your arrival until recently.
That-- in addition to the health quarantine, of course--is why you have been kept in this station, and never permitted to even suspect the presence of our other two stations. Interstellar trade with various worlds has been continuing there as usual, but we closed Station One to them, until we could reach a formal agreement with you humans."
Pieces of the Simiu'puzzle were falling into place now with dizzying speed.
"So your FTL communications ability and your super-fast S.V. drive weren't your own invention?" she guessed. No wonder they seemed ' "grafted on" to existing Simiu technology!
"That is correct."
"And those funny green disks that you were so secretive about?"
"League currency."
Mahree swallowed. "Ten other sentient species?"
Dhurrrkk' thought for a moment. "Perhaps it is eleven. Yes, I believe another new species was discovered last year."
She took a deep breath. Back to the business at hand. "What did you mean when you said there might be a neutral third party that could help us?"
"There is none on my world," Dhurrrkk' said. "But we could appeal directly to the League, at Shassiszss ..." he hesitated, "at the place where they hold their gatherings of members ..."
"Their headquarters," Mahree supplied.
"Yes. Since this is a matter threatening interstellar peace, it falls under their jurisdiction. We could rightfully ask them for their aid. But to do so would mean that my people could never count you humans as a successful First Contact. Do you see what I mean, FriendMahree?"
"Yes, I do," Mahree said. "But if there's the slightest chance that there might be war ..."
"Yes, we cannot afford to take such a chance. We must contact the League directly, you and I." Dhurrrkk' straightened
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in sudden decision, his crest rising with excitement. "We must go immediately."
"Go?" Mahree said blankly. "You mean travel to their headquarters ourselves!"
"It is the only way," Dhurrrkk' told her solemnly. "The League communications channels are strictly monitored. I could not get through them, and I have nowhere near enough honor- credits to finance such a communication, even if I did."
"But," she stammered, "but ... but ... Dhurrrkk', how? You mean, just leave, without telling anyone? We'd need a ship! Who would pilot it? I can't!"
"I am a certified pilot," Dhurrrkk' reminded her. "I have a ship in mind . . .
small, but fast. Ordinarily, it would be difficult to get to this vessel, but, since I am a member of the"--he yipped his clan-name--"I can get aboard. I will invent a suitable excuse for removing the ship from where it is docked.
Rhrrrkkeet' will not be pleased, since it is her ship, but that cannot be helped."
"You mean ..." Mahree gasped. "You mean we're going to steal the First Ambassador's' vessel?"
Dhurrrkk' nodded. "How else can we get there?" His violet eyes sparkled with a touch of wry humor. "The headquarters world is nearly thirty of your parsecs away. Or would you prefer to walk there, FriendMahree?"
Mahree could only stare at him, dazed. "You appear distressed." Dhurrrkk'
peered at her, concerned. "I was not serious about walking, FriendMahree. I was making a joke."
Helplessly, Mahree began to laugh. It took her a while to stop. Shaking with hysterical giggles, she wiped tears away.
Dhurrrkk' was looking decidedly smug. "I am pleased that my first joke was so successful," he told her. "But now, I am afraid, we must return to practicalities. We have a great deal of planning to do, and not much time."
Mahree nodded, squaring her shoulders. "Then by all means, let us begin."
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CHAPTER 10
The Naked Stars
Am I doing the right thing? I could be making the worst mistake of my life. I could be betraying my people, maybe even condemning them to death.
My stomach is in knots. I keep fighting nausea. If only I could change my mind . . . but I promised Dhurrrkk'. He's risking his neck and, what's more, he's risking his honor. Can I do less?
At least I'm all packed, and the security system on the cargo deck now thinks I'm Yoki. The "airlock open" indicator on the bridge won't give me away.
Fortunately, my period is over, so I won't have to worry about that . . . unless we're gone for a month, that is. Oh, God, we could be. I'd better prepare for that possibility . . .
Back again.
I keyed a message to Uncle Raoul, programmed to flag him several hours after we're safely away. I explained what Dhurrrkk' told me about the Simiu colonies, and the CLS. I warned him to not let the Simiu know that he's aware of their secrets. I'm trying to protect Dhurrrkk' as much as possible.
Dhurrrkk' is leaving an equivalent message for Rhrrrkkeet'.
Our destination is a small, yellow-white star "next door" (as stellar distances go) to the pair of double stars we call Mizar. In my head I've already begun calling those people the "Mizari." I wonder what they and the other CLS
members are like. Eleven different kinds of aliens--!!
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Sitting right on top of my bag of food, clothing, and other necessities is a gun.
I sneaked into Uncle Raoul's cabin and swiped it from the arms locker. I doubt I could actually shoot anyone, even using the lowest setting, but maybe I could use it in a last-ditch bluff . . .
I just wish I could be sure I'm doing the right thing . . .
Mahree had to force herself not to tiptoe on her way through the corridors, carrying her supply bag, the weapon shoved into the waistband of her shorts. It made a lumpy bulge over her navel, its outline only too apparent beneath her shirt.
With all her being she wanted to hurry, but she made herself walk at a normal pace.
The only crew member she passed on the way down to the cargo deck was Ray Drummond, and the Assistant Engineer barely glanced up from the flimsy he was scanning. Limp with relief, Mahree mumbled a monosyllabic reply to his abstracted, "How's it goin'?"
The corridors seemed endless, but her watch showed that only two minutes had passed since she had left her cabin. She halted outside the entrance to the cargo bay and entered the access code she had prepared. The door slid open.
Mahree had one foot over the threshold when a pleasant baritone came from behind her: "Hey, kiddo, is Yoki in there?"
The girl froze, her heart pounding so hard that for a second she was afraid she might faint. Of all the people to catch me, it had to be Rob! Shit!
She took a slow, deep breath, pulled the gun out of her shorts, then swung around to face him, concealing the weapon behind her back as she did so.
Maybe I can talk my way past him. Please, God . . .
"Hi," she said, surprised that her voice emerged without a squeak. "Yoki and I came down to check on the cargo, but she forgot something. She told me to wait here. She only left a minute ago--you can probably catch her if you hurry, Rob." Smiling, Mahree pointed back up the left-hand corridor leading to the ladder-well.
"Okay." He smiled, nodded, and turned away.
Mahree let out her breath in a soundless paean of gratitude.
"Wait a minute." Rob stopped abruptly and turned back to 142
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face her. "Yoki wouldn't leave that hatchway un--" he broke off, eyes widening as he saw the weapon in Mahree's hand.
"Don't move, Rob. I promise you I can hit what I aim at. I don't want to stun you, but I will if you make me."
He gaped at her, speechless. Final y, he grinned weakly. "You're kidding, right?"
"Wrong," she replied flatly. "Don't say anything else. And don't even think about yelling. Just step in here while I decide what to do with you." She beckoned him to move past her, through the open hatchway.
Mahree watched her prisoner narrowly as she followed him into the cargo-storage area. The scent of Jolian wool filled her nostrils, and the low temperature made gooseflesh pop out on her skin. "Stop. Turn around," she ordered.
Obediently, Rob halted and swung slowly to face her. His expression was a study in stunned bewilderment, but as she watched, it changed. Now she read a mixture of indignation and hurt in his eyes.
Her hand was steady as she held the weapon, but her thoughts verged on panic. What am I going to do with him? I can't tie him up down here--it's too cold.
"Mahree . . . kiddo . . ."he spoke soothingly, "want to tell me what's going on?
Why are you doing this? I'm sure we can solve whatever's bothering you, without telling anyone about this."
He thinks I've completely cleared my jets, Mahree thought, both angry and amused. "Want to bet?" she retorted. "I'm perfectly sane, Rob. I've got good reasons for what I'm doing. What I don't have is time." She frowned at him, thoughtfully. "I think I'll have to take you back into the corridor leading to the engine room and stun you. I just saw Ray Drummond leaving there, after his systems check, so there won't be anybody down there for a couple of hours.
Long enough to let me get away."
He stared at her uncomprehendingly, as though she had been addressing him in Simiu instead of English. "Leave?" he blinked. "Leave? How?
Where? Why?"
"The 'why' is too complicated to explain quickly. As to 'where,' I'm going with Dhurrrkk' on the F.A.'s ship. This whole situation has gotten out of hand, Rob. If somebody doesn't do something, we're going to wind up at war with the Simiu--a war they'll win. But Dhurrrkk' and I are going to stop it, before it starts. We're going to bring in some outside help."
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"Outside help?" He gave her a sharp, penetrating glance. "What kind of outside help?"
"I told you, I don't have time to explain!" Mahree hesitated, then squared her shoulders and beckoned with the weapon. "Okay, back into the corridor.
Take the righthand branch. You ought to be undisturbed until you wake up, in an hour or so." She bit her lip anxiously, studying him. "It's a good thing you're young and healthy. You are healthy, aren't you? You don't have a weak heart, or anything? I mean, you'd know, being a doctor, wouldn't you?"
"Wait a minute," Rob said, holding out both hands in a gesture of heartfelt appeal. "Wait a minute. Listen to me for a second. How do you know this isn't some kind of trick? Maybe the Simiu are doing this to get you into their Arena without Raoul knowing, did you ever think of that?" He took a deep breath. "They're holding us prisoner here. We've just discovered that they've got a magnetic field on our grapples."
"They've always had magnetic grapples on the ship!" she snapped, exasperated. "Magnetic grapples are S.O.P. for Simiu docking cradles.
Dhurrrkk' told me."
"Listen to me, Mahree. You think he's your friend, but I think he's setting you up--on Rhrrrkkeet's orders. They want you to fight in their Arena so their honor-code can be fulfilled. Or as a hostage to guarantee that we'll stay here peacefully, and not try to get away."
That makes a certain kind of sense . . . Mahree thought, then her mouth tightened. "No," she said. "You're wrong. Dhurrrkk's my friend. In the first place, I went to him. And in the second, I know he wouldn't betray me."
"Maybe he wouldn't," Rob said amiably. He moved one foot forward a tiny bit. "But maybe Rhrrrkkeet's using him unwittingly to get to you. Ever think of that?" He slid his other foot toward her, slightly.
"Rob; I'd hate to shoot you in here, where it's so cold," Mahree said quietly.
"I'm not sure I could carry you out. If I left you here, your ass might freeze before you woke up. So just forget about jumping me and grabbing the gun, okay?"
He stopped, studying her face intently. Whatever he saw there made him swallow nervously. "Okay," he said. "Just tell me one more thing ... what outside help?"
"There are other races the Simiu know," Mahree said. "Ten, 144
at least. One of them, the Mizari, are sort of ... negotiators and peace-keepers. They'll make the Simiu let us leave peacefully. We're going to their homeworld, where the CLS headquarters are."
Rob's expression brightened in spite of himself. "Ten different species of aliens? An interstellar governing body?"
"I don't have time! Out into the corridor, now, dammit, or I pull this trigger!"
"Wait a minute, please," Rob said hastily. "Please, honey. I still think they're bullshitting you, but either way, I can't let you go alone. Take me with you."
"Hell, no," Mahree said. "You'll try and stop me."
"I swear to God I won't."
She eyed him suspiciously. "You don't believe me about the CLS, so why do you want to go along?"
He shook his head. "You're right, I think they're lying. I think the Simiu are setting a trap for you. But the First Ambassador respects me. If I'm there, maybe I can talk her into letting us
go-"
"And if I'm not walking into a trap? If Dhurrrkk' is telling the truth?"
"Then Raoul will sleep easier nights, knowing that another human is with you on that Simiu ship."
Mahree considered. She really wasn't sure she could pull that trigger in cold blood and watch someone she loved crumple up and fall to the deck. You're being a fool to let him talk you into this, she told herself savagely, but she nodded, gesturing with the gun. "Okay. Out of here. We'll head for your cabin. You'll need supplies. And, remember, you gave your word."
They met no one on the way to Rob's cabin, and Mahree breathed a silent
"thank you." She had no illusions about Rob's oath.
"Okay," she snapped when they reached his quarters, "pack for an extended trip. Use a vacuum-proof bag."
Rob nodded silently, and moved around his cabin, collecting things. "What about food?" he said.
"I've got food," she said.
"Enough for two?"
"It'll have to be. Now, write
a note to tell them you're coming with me."
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Hastily he complied. "I'm asking Yoki to feed Sekhmet," he said, scribbling.
Mahree glanced at what he'd written and nodded curtly. "Come on. And remember, if we meet anyone in the corridor, I'm going to stun them first, then you, if you so much as let out a loud breath."
They were halfway to the door when Rob stopped abruptly. "Wait a second!"
Mahree's finger tensed on the trigger. "What?"
"My medical bag."
She relaxed. "Okay. Will it fit inside your other bag?"
"If ... I ... shove . . . There! That's got it."
"We've got to hurry, Rob. Don't forget what I said."
"I remember."
They were halfway there when they heard voices, and with a sinking heart Mahree recognized them as Joan's and Paul's. Tensing, she moved closer to Rob, almost treading on his heels as they walked. She poked the barrel of the gun between his arm and his back, concealing it, and whispered, "Rob, if you open your mouth, I swear I'll stun all of you. Remember how old Paul is ... it might hurt him. Please don't make me have to do that!"
She could feel the clamminess of his coverall against her fingers, the tenseness of his body. He made no sound.
Joan and Paul were in sight now, arguing about the fuel reserves. Neither paid any attention to the approaching pair. Mahree held her breath as they moved past the Chief Engineer and the First Mate. Keep walking, don't stop, she ordered herself. For God's sake, don't look back!
Not looking back was the hardest thing of all to do.
As the First Mate's and Chief Engineer's footsteps faded into the distance, Mahree gave a heartfelt sigh of relief. "Thanks, Rob."
When she reached the suit locker on the cargo deck, Mahree glanced quickly at her watch, frowning. "I'll get into my suit first. You lie on the deck, facedown."
"But--"
"Do it!"
Trying to keep her eyes on Rob, and the weapon close to hand, Mahree quickly measured her arm against a small suit's, then pulled it out of the rack.
Quickly she climbed into the
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spacesuit. Once Rob started to raise his head, levering himself up, but she immediately grabbed the gun and fired it over his head. The charge spat blue-violet, and she smelled ozone. Her prisoner gasped, then lay still.
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