by Shannah Jay
'De-tox tablets for anyone who's been using stims!' ordered Robler. 'Lizan, get the necessary equipment together and break into Soo and Mak's quarters. I think you'll find they're missing and we've been watching a recording. The rest of you, start searching the satellite for them. Berin, you and Fran go and check the transport area, especially the lifeships.'
'But we'd know if any ships had been launched,' the engineer protested. 'There are automatic warning buzzers.'
'And Soo's one of the best com-engineers in the Confederation. I shouldn't have waited! I should have separated the two of them immediately we discovered their perversions.' Robler stalked into his quarters and emerged a few minutes later wearing full Exec uniform, including a handgun. But in spite of his air of calm and confident authority, his fingers betrayed him by creeping up to tap and tug at the lobe of his ear every now and then.
Berin was the first to return. 'All the lifeships are there, but two of the transcaps are missing.'
'Transcaps!' Ah, Soo, you made a mistake there, Robler thought exultantly. I'll soon have you back. 'Right, Berin, we must try to pull them back to the satellite, for their own safety. Run out the tractor beam equipment.'
Berin shook his head. 'Too dangerous. Those transcaps aren't built to withstand the pressures. You know what happened to Davred, and that was in a lifeship.'
'It's a risk we'll have to take. Those two have not been given permission to land on the planet.' He saw Berin start to shake his head again, and shouted, 'Look, man, this isn’t manoeuvres! In their present state of mental instability, Soo and Mak could reveal everything to the primitives! They could damage the whole culture irreparably.' He reached out for the controls. 'If you won't do it, I'll do it myself! I know my duty to the Confederation!'
'Robler, don't!' begged Berin. 'It really is dangerous!'
'Don't try to stop me, or I'll have you up on a charge of Insubordination Under Emergency!'
'But . . . '
'You heard me!' Robler's fingers relayed the message to lock the tractor-beam projectors into place, but instead of this being a smooth operation in the satellite's outer skin, a red warning light began to flicker, there was a loud thunk and the emergency sirens started shrieking again. His hands clenched for a moment above the controls, and when the information lights blinked out their message, he burst out, 'She's locked the beam-ports. The clever bitch! When I get you back, Soo, I'll make you sorry for this! You'll not get away from me so easily!'
Berin blinked in puzzlement at this unprofessional threat, but, reluctant as he was to put Soo and Mak at risk, he was convinced by Robler's arguments. It was unthinkable for a member of Confex to risk inflicting major trauma on an emergent culture.
'I think I could patch in a temporary re-routed connection for the tractor beam ports,' he said hesitantly.
Robler grasped Berin's arm so tightly that it hurt. 'Could you? Why didn't you say so before? Get on with it, man! Stop talking and start working!'
'It'll take a few minutes. We may not be in time to catch them before they land. And it'll still be risky.'
'We must try everything!' Robler snapped his mouth shut and with intense self-control, refrained from interrupting Berin as he worked, though he couldn’t help pacing to and fro nearby.
Ten minutes later, Berin gestured to the controls. 'It might just work for long enough, Exec,' he said formally, still annoyed by Robler's attitude. 'But it could cut out at any moment, if you overload the tractor beams. That's the best I can do in the time.'
Robler pushed him out of the way, leaving Berin gaping at this gratuitous rudeness.
Leaning over the com-console, the Exec flipped the com-switch. 'We've got the tractor beams repaired, Soo. They'll begin to bite in thirty seconds. Will you return to your duty, or must I drag you back?'
* * *
Soo didn’t answer him, but made the transcaps accelerate to a dangerous speed, praying it’d be enough.
They were so close to escaping.
With a jerk, the tractor beams suddenly took hold of the transcaps and the deceleration pressure made Soo black out for a few seconds. When she recovered, she could feel the transcap veering about wildly as its thrusting jets fought against the tractor beams.
‘Brother, look down,’ she murmured, without realising what she was saying.
* * *
'Aha!' yelled Robler. 'Got you, Soo! Can you feel the pull? I hope the turbulence is knocking a bit of sense into you. You'll soon be on your way back to me, and I'll make very sure you don't escape again!'
Someone tugged at Robler's arm and he shook the hand off angrily.
'Exec, you must reduce the power to the tractor beams. You're overloading the circuits. It's only on emergency patch.' Berin reached out towards the control panel, but Robler slapped his hand to one side.
'She's not getting away from me! Try to touch those controls again without my permission and I'll smash your face in!'
Berin goggled at him. Robler's own behaviour was rapidly becoming as aberrant as that of Soo and Mak.
Suddenly there was a muffled explosion and the tractor beam controls went dead.
'No!' Robler thumped the control panel, his face puce and contorted with fury. 'Fix it, damn you!' he yelled to Berin. 'Do you hear me! Fix it! They're nearly down to the planet.'
'I can't! I told you not to overload it.' Berin wouldn’t have reconnected the circuit if he had been able to.
He was now extremely worried about Robler's rationality, not to mention what the Exec might do to Soo if he got her back. Berin had noticed, if no one else had, that Robler seemed not even to remember that Mak was trying to escape as well. He carefully kept his eyes away from his Exec's flushed and contorted face, and said nothing.
'You blundering incompetent! You'll be sorry for this fiasco!' Robler thumped the panel again and shouted into the com-unit, 'Listen to me, Soo! I'll get you back! You hear me? I'll get you back, and make you sorry you ever tried to cross me!'
Berin moved away from him in disgust. Robler didn’t even notice him go, and continued to mouth obscenities into the com-unit.
Below the satellite, just above the cloud layer, the two transcaps were released so suddenly from the tractor beams that they shot off in different directions at a speed which made the occupants pass out and some of the modifications fail. As their jets cut out, it was left to atmospheric resistance to slow them down, but this was insufficient to prevent them from hurtling towards the ground at a dangerous speed. The most the occupants could do when they regained consciousness, was to try to keep the transcaps' noses up. Neither could contact the other.
After a wild journey across the sky, one transcap crashed into a clump of trees, lodged for a moment in the thick leafy canopy that had saved it from disaster, then began to drop down through the branches in a series of jerks.
The other transcap travelled on for much longer, eventually losing enough speed to give it a chance of a safe landing. Blind to what was happening outside, Soo nevertheless retained enough control to keep her crude vehicle more or less level. Then it, too, hit some trees, smashing through their slender upper branches with sounds like whips cracking. It careered across a small lake, lashing the water into a frothy turbulence as it passed, and came to rest in the shallows, nose buried in the sand. Its plasteel skin was smoking slightly, hissing where it touched the water. There was no sound from the occupant.
CHAPTER 14 THOSE OF QUEQUERE
The camp hummed and murmured as Quedras's people began to awaken. It was an orderly scene, and even the children, who lived in large communal tents at the rear, were soon busy fetching water and cooking, or feeding the flocks of fowls and meat nerids.
It was a while before Herra realised that no one was speaking above a low murmur and guards were posted around the camp's perimeter. Sitting cross-legged on the ground outside her squad's tent, she studied the way things were organised with great interest. She felt well and relaxed, for she’d needed less sleep since she attained E
nhancement. Her companions were still sleeping, three of them fitfully, the others deeply.
Breakfast for Quedras's people was a simple meal: flat cakes of unleavened bread, soft creamy cheese and dried fruit were set out on a trestle table, while a cauldron of some sort of hot drink bubbled over a small fire nearby. People helped themselves and ate in sociable groups, chatting quietly and waiting for the whole group to finish before they moved off from the eating area. Everything seemed geared to the squads.
Herra became aware that someone behind her was stirring and turned to look into their makeshift tent.
Benjan rolled out of his bed, yawning. He stretched his limbs to loosen them, then moved quietly across to rest on one knee beside her and stare around.
'Well organised camp, this,' he commented after a few minutes. 'The sentries are well placed and alert. I like that. Who are these people, Herra?'
'The descendants of people exiled from Dsheresh Vale, those who succeeded in crossing the desert.'
'And who are their enemies that they need so many sentries?'
'Other groups of exiles, I gather. We must ask Quedras or Quinna to explain everything to us later.'
Gradually the last of the breakfast groups dispersed. Some had picked up weapons, others tools. No group lingered once the meal was over. The children cleared up, then left the eating area in two files, the smaller ones with an elderly man and the older ones with a middle-aged woman. Like the adult groups, they were quiet and orderly, and kept their voices down. The two adults and the older children carried knives and clubs, and kept careful watch as they walked, even so close to the camp.
Quedras came out of one of the large tents, talking earnestly to Quinna. He pointed out a direction to her and she nodded, waved to Herra and Benjan, and left. A group waiting near the perimeter followed her.
Quedras grabbed some bread and fruit and gave a final approving glance at the arrangements in the camp, before strutting across to join Herra.
'Good camp, hey? I've got them all well trained now, but you should have seen them when I took over.
Sloppy! It's a wonder they'd survived so long!' He crammed some bread into his mouth and chewed it noisily.
'Going to be hot later,' he said indistinctly. 'Got to get everything done while it's still cool.'
His voice was loud enough to wake the rest of the Kindred, but though Jonner was awake, he remained huddled in a foetal ball. Carryn and Narla lay on their sides staring dully out at the sky, indifferent to what was happening around them.
Quedras waved the remains of his bread in their direction. 'You won't save them, crrazy woman. That little fellow's into second stage now. Look at him, poor sod! You won't get him to eat or drink. You can't mistake the signs of advanced sand-madness.' His eyes switched to Katia and he gave an appreciative whistle. 'Now, she's a pretty one! Good breeder, too. You can always tell. Carries the baby easily. She'll be verry useful to the community.' He switched his attention back to Herra. 'If you want something to eat, you'd better get your squad up and moving. The cook-squad wants to finish clearing away. They're only waiting for you lot.'
'That's kind of you,' said Herra. 'In fact, you've been kind in many ways.'
'Kind?' Quedras sounded affronted. 'Ha! I'm not kind! You don't survive on kindness here. You've earned your chance, old woman, by curing Querilla. Your skills will be very valuable to us, verry valuable! And you've brought in a few goods, as well as some useful people. It all adds up.' He was eyeing Carryn now, frowning.
'She's a bit young for breeding, that one, don't you think? Still, she'll not have the baby now, not with sand-madness. Surely you don't encourage them to start that young?'
'Of course not! She was raped.'
'Quequere save us! What sort of man would do that to a child like her?'
'Those of the Serpent do it regularly.'
He spat on the ground. 'They must be a bunch of filthy vermin, then! What's wrong with them? Aren't there any grown women who're willing?'
'They believe that women are only there to serve men. All women. Any man in need. So it doesn't matter what they do to them, even to a child, as long as they satisfy their needs.'
He snorted in disgust. 'Then you're right to fight them, even if you are crrazy optimists. If they come here, we'll fight them too. Attacking children! Using women like that! Sick in the head they must be!' He grinned suddenly. 'I'd like to see one of them try it on our Quinna. She'd soon sort him out!'
Herra couldn’t share his amusement. Her memories of Those of the Serpent were still too painful. 'Even Quinna could do little against a group of them,' she said bleakly.
'Filthy perverts!' He spat again. 'And cowards.'
'Cowards, indeed,' Herra agreed, then shook off the dark memories. Quedras's people were refreshingly sane. She stood up and called to the others to come and eat.
Quedras accompanied them to the serving area and nodded to the people in charge. 'Give Herra's squad a good serve. They've had a hard time, but they look like having some useful contributions to make to the community.'
'And we need food for our three sick friends as well,' Katia reminded him.
He shook his head. 'No. Waste of time. If you can rouse them, we'll feed them. But you won't be able to.
The one in second stage wouldn't swallow, even if you put the food right into his mouth for him. You might get a few mouthfuls down the others, but why bother? They're doomed. It'd just be a waste. And food doesn't throw itself into the store-tent, does it?' He looked at Herra and shook his head again. 'No, not even you can cure them, crrazy woman. Sand-madness - it eats inside people's heads till they're just a hollow body with no mind left. Better to kill them swiftly and cleanly than let them lie there with their brains rotting away.'
Herra gave him her glinting smile. 'We shall see, my friend. We shall see.'
Quedras dismissed the subject with a shrug and a casual wave of the hand. He seemed in high good humour and continued to talk at them while they ate. 'We'll have a community council tonight. Set the terms for you to join us. Everyone pays their way here, unless they're injured or sick.'
The Kindred suspended chewing to look at Herra, and she took on the role of spokesperson. 'We don't seek to join your community permanently, my friend, though we would appreciate the chance to stay with you for a while. Is that possible? We will, of course, earn our keep during our stay in any way that suits you.'
'Ha! Where else do you think there is to go, then? The other groups on the Sandrims are scruffy mobs, always on the verge of starvation. Rimrascals, we call them. You'd best join us. We of Quequere eat regularly, and we live in an orderly manner. We even look after our old folk. No one else does! The Rimrascals just leave them to die.'
'If we wished to join anyone, we would certainly choose your community,' she replied diplomatically, 'but we can't stay here. We're on a Quest, as I told you.'
' No one has ever got back across the desert. You must be crrazier that I thought even to consider it!'
'We don't intend to go back; we intend to go north for a while, then try to head west later. We wish to return to the Twelve Claims and we refuse to be stopped.'
'Look, old woman - '
She laid a hand on his arm. 'Quedras, I feel a great deal of respect for you, but I cannot let you dictate to us. We're a community too. Small, but very united in our purpose.'
He shook his head at her. 'You'll just die, and for no rreason!'
'Then we'll die. But we'll not give up our Quest. We - '
A sudden hubbub interrupted them, with piercing whistles from two directions. Quedras jumped to his feet. 'Arm yourselves! Rimrascal raid!' He rushed off towards the sound.
As Benjan jumped up to follow him, Herra shouted, 'No! Benjan, stay here! They're approaching from this side as well.'
Quedras stopped briefly to yell. 'How many? Can you manage them?'
'Only a few. Yes, I think so.'
'You look after them, then. We'll see to the rest.' His expression wa
s joyful and he slashed the air with his sword in sheer exuberance.
Benjan and Fiana already had the swords they'd been given out and Davred had wrenched away a tent pole with which to defend himself. Benjan had been showing him a few tricks to use when fighting with a staff and unlike gentle Katia, Davred had no hesitation in defending himself forcefully.
Cheral followed Davred's example, and the two front flaps of the tent sagged inwards as she pulled away the other pole and hefted it in her hand. 'I could do with my good frying pan,' she muttered to herself. 'This stick is too light. Brother, forgive me! It's not my choice to follow the paths of violence. But I cannot let anyone kill my sick Kindred.'
A group of ragged creatures burst out from behind some rocks and charged the tent, yelling insults and threats. Benjan waited until they were closer, then rushed forward suddenly, taking them by surprise, as was his way. He had knocked two to the ground unconscious before the rest realised what he was doing. Fiana and Davred moved in behind him, while Cheral took up a protective stance before the tent where the three victims of sand-madness lay. The tent's occupants seemed totally oblivious to the shrieking around them.
Katia, white and sickened as always by violence, threw an illusion of a sand scorpion at the woman charging her, and had the satisfaction of seeing her attacker veer away, yelling 'Scorpion!' to her comrades.
Herra raised one hand and a bolt of lightening hissed through the air, ploughing into the rocky ground and sending a shower of debris over the rest of the attackers. Benjan thumped a shrieking woman into oblivion, then threw a man who rushed at him several paces across the ground.
'Hold on!' yelled Quinna's voice behind them. 'We're nearly through here.' But by the time Quinna came panting up, the attackers had fled, leaving four unconscious bodies on the ground.
'Hey! You can certainly handle yourself in a fight, Benjan boy!' she exclaimed jubilantly. 'I saw you lay two of them out in the first rush. You must show me that feint sometime.'
Quedras came up. 'They grrow more stupid!' he said scornfully. 'Rrabble! Couldn't organise a fight if you stood and helped them with the plans! You'd think they'd have learned by now not to attack us head on!' He inspected the bodies, raised his eyebrows and nudged Benjan. 'Not dead? I'd have thought you could've killed a few, big boy! Why didn't you finish 'em off?'