Turning Point

by Lisanne Norman

  “We’re not indigenous here,” Carrie corrected her absently, almost mesmerized by the efficiency of the little gadget. “We’re colonists.”

  “That explains many things that have puzzled us, and settles an argument,” laughed Vanna. “Guynor loses again! Mito and he were convinced your people came from this world. It isn’t his day today, is it?

  “Now, I’m going to give you something to ensure the cuts don’t become infected, then I’ll bandage your wrist. If you feel any strange effects—dizziness, sickness, anything—let me know immediately. I have an antidote for the drug. As for the stitches, they will dissolve in a week. At least they do with our body chemistry,” she amended, taking out a hypodermic gun.

  “It should be all right,” said Carrie, as the female placed the tip against her flesh. A slight sting and it was over. “Kusac didn’t react adversely to our antibiotics.”

  Vanna put the hypo away and picking up a slim packet tore it open and took out a sterile dressing.

  “Hold out your arm,” she said, placing the pad over the wounded area.

  “Do take my warning about Guynor seriously,” she continued, fastening the bandage. “He has several reasons for disliking Kusac, and today’s incident has only made the situation worse. No one has ever struck him before, and for it to be Kusac ...” She shrugged expressively.

  “Apart from our Captain, Guynor is the strongest member of the crew. If things don’t go his way, he lashes out, but never when Garras can see it. To hit Guynor back means a worse beating.

  “He used to take a delight in baiting Kusac, knowing that as a Telepath, he wouldn’t even consider defending himself. But Kusac has changed.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at the girl. “He is not the same person we left in the woods the day we crashed. He is older, and stronger, and has a sense of purpose, unless I’m mistaken.”

  Carrie remained silent, gently probing Vanna. The Sholan’s last sentence had said more than the words alone.

  Drawing some energy from Kusac, she was able to read the surface of Vanna’s mind, but beyond that was the natural barrier that took their combined strength to break through unless Vanna willingly removed it. She was certainly no Telepath. This was not the mind she had touched before. She sensed her concern for Kusac over a female that Guynor had claimed, and her curiosity about Carrie and her place in Kusac’s life—obviously an important one—but nothing more. She withdrew and returned her attention to what Vanna was saying.

  “So keep out of Guynor’s way. You cannot stand up to him yourself: you don’t have our natural weapons. Never go anywhere alone, that would give him the opportunity to Challenge you when none of us were there to prevent him.”

  “Why should he Challenge me?”

  Vanna looked puzzled. “To be able to claim superiority over you, of course. Don’t your people fight for superiority?”

  “Not physically on a personal level. Superiority in strength doesn’t mean superiority of intellect among Terrans. Surely that applies to you, too?”

  “You can only be Challenged by someone of your own grade,” Vanna said, her tone slightly stiff.

  Carrie felt something brushing against her leg and glancing down, she saw the Sholan’s tail twitching slightly back and forth.

  “Would your people follow a leader who was not the strongest member of the crew? Ours would not.”

  “We follow those thought to be wisest. We believe wisdom comes with age,” replied Carrie.

  “So do we, but in certain fields such as our armed forces, the old ways still linger. Yet our senior leaders tend to be older, like Garras,” Vanna conceded, beginning to gather her medical equipment together. “Many of us dislike the personal combat procedure, but obviously the stronger ones among us wish to continue it. Besides, it is the best way to choose the Junior Officers, and if you allow that to be the deciding factor among them, then it must be allowed throughout the lesser members of the crew. It is only fair.” She closed her case and picked it up. “You stay here while I fetch you a hot drink, then you can tell me how you met Kusac.”

  Carrie watched Vanna’s retreating figure, really looking at the Sholan woman for the first time. Like the Captain, she wore a multipurpose sleeveless jacket covered with various sized external pockets. From the utility belt at her waist hung a side arm. What the pouches contained, Carrie had no idea, but presumably they held various medical and personal items. Over her right shoulder was a wide band of blue—probably a mark of her status or profession.

  Vanna’s fur was also differently colored from that of Kusac and the Captain. They were dark; she was light beige with darker marks banding her tail.

  Looking over the rest of the company, she saw that of the other three members of the crew, only one was similarly colored. The banding of darker fur was echoed on the face around the eyes and ears. A gentle surface probe revealed a lesser barrier than she had encountered from the other Sholans, and she identified the feel of the mind that had mistaken her for Kusac.

  The shock of her experience with Guynor had left her too drained to probe any further even had she wished to, so she withdrew, turning her attention to where Kusac was still talking to the Captain.

  “Right,” said Vanna, setting two mugs of steaming brown liquid down in front of her, “now I want to hear how you found Kusac.”

  Carrie picked up the crude pottery mug and sipped the drink cautiously. It tasted vaguely like coffee but was insipid by comparison.

  “First, tell me why you left Kusac behind. If we hadn’t found each other he would have died.”

  “It wasn’t my decision, it was the Captain’s.

  “When we crashed here, we had very little time to make our escape. We knew the planet had produced a feline form not unlike our own and the Captain reasoned that with any luck we could be mistaken for them if the need arose, but only if the bodies of our dead were destroyed. We took anything useful we could lay our hands on, then we set the craft alight and were moving into the forest just as a small group of the Others ...”

  “Valtegans,” interrupted Carrie.

  “... Valtegans landed near us. There was a fight during which another of the crew was killed and Kusac was wounded. There was barely time to throw the body into our blazing scout craft before we had to leave.

  “It was important that as many of us as possible escaped to find the life pod that had been dropped here by the first survey. There’s a transmitter in it, and with it we could contact Shola and report that we had found the Others and were stranded on the planet.

  “Kusac was too badly wounded to keep up with us, so the Captain ordered him to follow our trail as best he could, when he could.”

  Carrie kept her expression impassive as Vanna ground to a halt.

  “I wasn’t even allowed the time to put a dressing on his wound,” the Sholan continued after a moment or two. “We had to ensure that we escaped to warn our people. Millions of lives still depend on our sending that message.”

  “I can appreciate your point,” said Carrie, “but I’m afraid I would have at least treated his wound.”

  “None of us had time to think!” exclaimed Vanna. “We had just crashed on the planet, gotten out of the scouter, and been attacked again on the ground. We reacted purely by instinct, otherwise we’d all have perished in the Valtegans’ second attack.”

  Carrie shrugged noncommittally, knowing that Vanna was upset—and probably right. “Possibly I would have acted the same way, I don’t really know.”

  Vanna nodded. “Perhaps you would. Now will you tell me how you met Kusac, and came to speak our language so well—for an Alien.”

  Carrie told Vanna an abridged version of her meeting with Kusac, leaving out anything that had to do with their telepathic bond, except for the language transfer. By the time she had finished, Kusac had returned.

  “Everything should be fine now,” he told her, sitting down at the table. “I have told him about our computer cube and spoken to him about sending the message d
irect to your colony ship and he says he will consider it, although he sees no reason to refuse.”

  “Good. Have they found the life pod yet?” Carrie asked.

  “No, but they know where it is,” Kusac replied. “It’s in the swamp just north of here.”

  “Oh, dear,” sighed Carrie. “That creates a problem.”

  “I know.”

  “We’ve been trying to find a way through that swamp for months,” interrupted Vanna, “but the place is full of treacherous bogs and quicksands, not to mention the local animal population, which appears to be composed mainly of teeth,” she said wryly. “I seem to have done nothing but treat animal bites.”

  “I don’t know the swamps,” said Carrie. “The person you want is Jack Reynolds, our doctor and xenobiologist, though even he hasn’t ventured far into that region. I’m afraid no one in our settlement can be of any real help.”

  “Then we are stranded until the Khalossa finally realizes we’re missing. With the current situation, that’s not going to be for quite a while yet as we were running behind schedule—unless you know the location of a deep space transmitter.”

  “If we knew of one that didn’t require a large army to reach it, I assure you we’d have used it ourselves long before now! Vanna, we have a colony ship due to reach midpoint in about two weeks. If we don’t contact it, another fifteen hundred of our people will be landing here, totally unprepared for life under the Valtegans,” Carrie replied.

  “It occurred to both Garras and me that if the Khalossa is bound for Keiss, there is no need to stop your colony ship. By the time it arrived, Keiss would be completely free of any Valtegan presence.”

  “That’s an option I hadn’t considered,” said Carrie thoughtfully.

  “Yes, the Khalossa’s a fully armed warship, well able to cope with fighting on a planetary scale,” Kusac continued. “It’s well worth thinking about.

  “Meanwhile, there must be someone who knows the swamps. What about these guerrillas of yours? They live in the forests, they must have traveled through that area at some time.”

  “They’re certainly more likely to have done so than anyone else,” Carrie admitted.

  “How do we contact them?” interrupted a voice from behind Carrie.

  She turned to find the Captain standing there. He moved round the table, seating himself opposite them.

  “I’ve no idea. How do you suggest we find small bands of people who roam around a forest the size of this one?”

  “How do you contact them when you need them?” he asked, his ears twitching in irritation.

  “We don’t,” she replied shortly. “They contact us.”

  “Carrie,” said Kusac, his hand reaching out to cover hers where it lay on the table. “They need provisions—food, weapons, things like that. Where would they go to get them?”

  Don’t antagonize him, Leska. He is better as a friend than an enemy.

  “They would probably go to Seaport,” she said, moderating her tone while mentally sending Kusac a series of rude noises. “People from all over go there to market the various goods that are their speciality. Hillfort mines for metals. They produce tools and jewelery. Seaport itself produces seafoods. It’s also the site of our original landing, and sections of the Eureka are still there, incorporated into the town. The computer is housed there, also the beacon to guide the second ship down.”

  “The Valtegans have allowed you to keep the beacon then?”

  “In a way. We aren’t allowed access to it in case we might try to prevent it from sending out the homing signal.”

  “I’d have thought that the Valtegans would have tried to keep any more of your people from landing here,” said Kusac, “considering the damage your guerrillas already do. Surely they are creating a potentially explosive situation for themselves?”

  “They know that our second wave contains many scientists as well as their equipment. Plus they hope to recruit more of our women for their pleasure centers.” Her voice sounded bitter as she said this.

  “Some of your women are in their pleasure centers?” said the Captain, his face creasing with concern. “Is there no way you can rescue them? Surely your guerrillas? ...”

  “They went voluntarily,” Carrie interrupted. “When the Valtegans arrived, they took over the site of one of our settlements. There was opposition, of course, and many of the men were killed. Most of the survivors left and joined other settlements but some remained, going to stay in Geshader with the Valtegans.

  “The women used to visit Seaport occasionally, but when they started trying to persuade some of the younger girls to join them in the center, the settlers drove them out.

  “We aren’t all like that,” she said defensively, “but no matter how carefully you screen people, you can’t test for every situation.”

  “What are the chances of contacting the guerrillas if we go to Seaport?” asked Kusac, breaking the silence that followed her outburst.

  “I’ve no idea, but we can hardly traipse round the forest hoping to bump into them. There’s only one problem with your idea. I’d be recognized in Seaport, and my father will be looking for me.”

  “That is unimportant for now,” said the Captain. “Do you know the places these people are likely to frequent?”

  “I know where to look,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “Then you can prepare for your journey tonight and be ready to leave first thing in the morning.”

  “No,” said Kusac quietly.

  The Captain swiveled round to face him.

  “I said no,” Kusac repeated, ignoring the fact that Guynor’s ears had flicked sideward and back.

  “Carrie has been injured by your First Officer. She needs at least a day or two to recover. Traveling through the forest is not child’s play, it’s hard manual work. Once her wrist has healed, we will leave.

  “There is also the question of her being recognized. That problem has to be resolved before it is safe for her to enter Seaport.”

  Vanna sat rigid with shock, unable to believe what she was hearing. This was so unlike the Kusac she knew.

  “Kusac, I’m fine. I’ll be all right . . .” started Carrie.

  “If we have to hack our way back through the trees, then there is no way you could possibly cope,” Kusac said flatly. “Vanna, as the medic, do you agree with me?”

  Vanna kept her eyes on the Captain as she answered.

  “She is not a Sholan so I have no way of gauging her recuperative powers, but even if she were, I would advise at least one day’s rest if she has to use her hand for any heavy work. The journey to Seaport will take much longer—and may even have to be canceled—if she collapses from shock or exhaustion.”

  “Very well,” snapped Garras. “If you consider that it would jeopardize the mission, then I will delay it for a day or two. Time is of the essence. The Valtegans will be trying to use our memory cube and if they can access that ... I leave it to your imagination.

  “Let me know when she has recovered sufficiently to travel.” With that, he stalked off to the other end of the cavern and disappeared through one of the tunnel openings.

  Vanna released her breath in a long sigh.

  “What, in all the shades of the Underworld, has come over you, Kusac? Are you going out of your way to antagonize everyone?”

  “Me, Vanna? You know I’m a pacifist.”

  “Don’t turn those innocent eyes on me!” she rejoined tartly. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I hope you’re prepared for the trouble you’re creating for yourself and Carrie.”

  “Believe me, Vanna, I’m not trying to cause trouble, but I’m not having anyone trampling over Carrie. She isn’t one of us and no one has any right to order her about. Our ways are not hers. I want everyone to understand that they don’t Challenge her but me.”

  “Hey, wait a minute!” Carrie protested. “I’m not exactly a weakling, you know.”

  Kusac and Vanna turned to look at her, a shared amusement
on their faces.

  “I have heard you described by other Terrans as a diminutive slip of a girl,” said Kusac, grinning. “You’re just tall enough to reach above my shoulder. Do you really think you could defend yourself against one of us? Even against Vanna, who is the smallest of our crew?” He shook his head.. “You don’t have our muscular build, let alone our claws, and in a Challenge, claws are not sheathed.”

  Carrie mumbled a few choice words under her breath.

  Kusac laughed before turning back to Vanna.

  “When we left the scouter, we all grabbed the nearest things worth salvaging. I don’t suppose there was any clothing among what was carried off, was there?”

  “As a matter of fact, there was. If you remember, Mito was in ... her cabin.” She hesitated, trying not to glance at Kusac. “Predictably, she grabbed some clothing and personal possessions, bundling them in a couple of blankets. Not the type of things that aid survival on an Alien planet—except for the blankets.”

  “On the contrary, it is exactly what I need. Where did she put them?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Mito. I expect in the sleeping quarters she shares with Guynor.”

  “Then I’d better go and ask her to show me what she brought,” he said, looking around for Mito. “I have an idea that might prevent Carrie from being recognized.

  “Will you wait here till I return? As you said, I don’t want to leave Carrie on her own.” Saying this, he got to his feet and made his way across the cavern to where Mito sat beside the cooking area.

  After a brief conversation, she reluctantly led him out of the main cavern and down another smaller tunnel.

  He was back in five minutes, carrying an armload of various materials which he deposited on the table. As he did so, Carrie noticed he was wearing one of the jackets with a purple band over the shoulder. He also had the utility belt, but there was no weapon hanging at his side.