by neetha Napew
ARCT.”
Lunzie snorted. “I don’t think that would have kept the heavyworlders satisfied once they’d had their bloody rest day . . . and tasted animal protein. Brings out the worst in them every time.”
A taut silence ensued, broken as Varian shuddered, then said, “But Divisti’s garden produced sufficient vegetable protein to support twice as many heavyworlder appetites.”
“I’d say they waited,” Lunzie began, picking at her lower lip for a moment before she continued. “They would have tried to locate the shuttle and the power packs which young Bonnard so cleverly concealed. They knew Kai ‘d sent out some sort of message, before Paskutti smashed the comunit? Well, then, they’d have had to wait to see if assistance arrived. They would have had to assume also that we’d rig some sort of distress beacon to attract rescue, even if it did take the Thek forty-three years to bother to investigate.”
Varian broke in excitedly. “You don’t suppose that they could have rigged an alert for a landing?”
“No way.” Portegin shook his head violently. “Not with the equipment they had. Remember it was replacement parts they took with the stores, not full units.”
“Yes, but Aygar spoke of iron mines and they’ve been working a forge.”
Portegin kept shaking his head. “Bakkun was a good all-round engineer but even with all the matrices I’ve got, I couldn’t make that sort of a scan system, not planet wide, and that’s what they’d need.”
So,” Kai said in summation, “they waited to be sure ARCT wasn’t making the scheduled pick-up. They also waited until they could be reasonably certain our distress signal was unheard and then too weak. Then they sent the homing capsule to one of the Heavyworld colonies inviting settlers and technicians.”
“And if a colony ship, large enough to transport enough people and supplies is to make the journey profitable, they’d have to build a landing grid,” Triv exclaimed.
“Which explains why they left the very good settlement they had in the secondary camp,” Varian cried.
“And why Aygar chooses to meet you there rather than at their new site,” Lunzie finished with a sour grimace. “Such an undertaking also explains forty-three years.”
“Even for heavyworlders, it would take years to clear this sort of jungle and hold it back while they got a grid in place,” said Portegin with some awe.
“Probably with a homing device built into the acknowledging capsule to confirm arrangements and approximate time of arrival,” Triv added.
The group reflected on this solution with no joy.
Triv broke the silence. “I’d opt for us to come from a Fleet ship,
a cruiser. They make periodic reports to a Sector HQ and no one in his right mind messes with a cruiser.”
“Would Aygar know that?” Varian asked facetiously.
“No, but the captain of the incoming ship would,” Triv replied.
“And a search party could have been set down here to check on the distress call while the cruiser goes on to the Ryxi and the Thek planets.”
“Now that our identity is established,” Kai said with an attempt at heartiness, “I suggest we transfer to the campsite built for Dimenon and Margit. If it still exists.”
“Don’t see why it wouldn’t,” Triv said. “The heavyworlders wouldn’t have wasted belt power dismantling and transporting it.”
“Wouldn’t we go to the original site?” asked Portegin.
“We did,” Varian replied, “but Kai got attacked there didn’t he? So
we move to the second auxiliary camp.” She rose and stretched. “And we’d also better fill in the holes of the vine screen. Then the sleepers will be safe.”
The next morning, Triv took one of the smaller sleds to investigate the secondary camp which had been sighted for Dimenon and Margit to use as a base for their explorations of the southwestern part of Ireta’s main continent. Assisted by Varian and Lunzie, Portegin gathered the matrices removed from the other two small sleds and the undamaged units in the shuttle. He was optimistic that with these components, he could rig working comunits in the two small sleds and the four-man sled, plus an ordinary homing beacon, consonant with their role as a rescue team from a Space Fleet cruiser.
Lunzie proved the deftest in making minute welds with the heated tip of a surgical probe, all the while muttering about the misuse of her precious medical equipment on inanimate objects.
Varian’s usefulness to the project was short lived. She was unable to limit herself to controlled dexterity for long, and announced that she was better suited to shifting vines than matrices. It was hard, sweaty labor, hampered by Ireta’s sudden squalls and then steamy sun heat. The vines clung with tenacious webs of sticky fibers to the rock, so she hacked away, pried loose, and tugged at the tendrils to rig a full curtain across the entrance. At the same time, she rigged fiber ropes to pull the vines back to allow for the entry and exit of the sleds. She coaxed additional new vine tendrils across the chasm, setting them to fill in. At the rate vegetation grew on Ireta, the cave ought to be densely screened in a matter of weeks.
Triv returned with the welcome news that the other camp had survived, although it had become the residence of creatures large and small. However the fortified posts were functional so that, once cleared of intruders, the camp would be habitable.
Lunzie made good use of the vines left over from Varian’s camouflage trimming and created emergency rations from the vegetable matter and more light blankets from the residual fibers. These were packed into the two smaller sleds while Kai was made comfortable in the larger. Lunzie made a last check on the sleepers and set the time release for additional sleep vapor. As Triv pulled back the vine curtain, using Varian’s cords, the three sleds emerged just as the evening rain began to splash down. They landed briefly on the cliff, while Triv joined them and took over the controls of one sled from Lunzie who then joined Varian and Kai in the larger.
As Varian lifted, she searched the leaden skies. “No giffs!”
“They’ve sense enough to come in out of that rain,” Lunzie said,
drying her hands as she looked at the raindrops battering the canopy.
“They followed me, you know.”
“So you told me. Not superstitious, are you, Varian?” the medic
asked with an ironic chuckle.
“Enough to prefer their company to their absence.”
“They stood guard a long time,” Kai said in his husky voice.
“You’re both allowing them far more intelligence than they
deserve.”
Varian turned her head to give Kai a broad grin which he answered. Then the rain squall quickened and she had to keep her attention on flying for the rest of the journey.
Although Triv and Portegin had arrived in advance of the four-man sled, Kai was struck by the eeriness of landing in the gloom of Iretan twilight at a campsite which he knew had been uninhabited for over four decades. It seemed to have slept, unchanged, as they had.
Rationally, he knew that part of its lack of change was due to the rocky site, but the dome which Dimenon and Margit had set up was only slightly browned by wind and weather. A small fire burned on the hearth outside. It’s light was cheering and it’s smoke a partial deterrent to insects until the force field could be powered up. The pack was quickly connected and crackled immediately with tiny spurts as insects were vaporized. Small bits of char drifted down as Kai stiffly made his way from the sled to the dome. He was heartily disgusted with his weakness and kept to himself the fact that he still had no feeling at all in the areas where the fringe had sucked deepest. He couldn’t prevent furtive glances for fringes lurking beyond the veil. He worried briefly if the creatures could be stopped by the force field. Of course they could—Force fields had even held back the stampede of the herbivores . . . for a time.
He was trembling again, to his disgust. Only a short walk and he was spent. Lunzie had cautioned him against using Discipline to overcome the weakness of convales
cence but surely a daily routine of basic Discipline exercise would be beneficial. Might even be essential if Varian’s meeting with Aygar proved unlucky. Kai wasn’t easy about that confrontation, even with all three armed. He’d spent some time trying to estimate how large the mutineers’ group would be after two generations of breeding. And if a colony ship had arrived, there could be thousands to back the heavyworlders’ claim. Either way his team was at risk.
Where had the ARCT-10 disappeared to? Why had Tor been so uncharacteristically keen to find the old core? Why had the Thek then departed? Kai reminded himself that a mere human did not demand explanations of a Thek. Out of sight, out of mind, yet Tor had awakened him to find the core.
And how had the Ryxi flourished on their new planet? Kai wondered, though he knew that Vrl, his contact with the volatile avians, probably wouldn’t have worried about the geologist’s silence. Certainly the Ryxi wouldn’t have communicated with the Thek. Surely, though, Kai reasoned, the commander of the Ryxi colony vessel ought to have tried to raise the Iretan group, if only prompted by courtesy. Probably the silence of the Iretan expedition was thought to mean that the ARCT-10 had collected the Iretan team as scheduled.
Which brought Kai back to the original question: What had happened to the ARCT-10? The great compound ships were constructed to withstand tremendous variations of temperature and stress. Short of a full nova, an EEC: vessel could endure almost anything. Possibly, a black hole would consume a whole EEC ship, but no EEC ship would approach such a hazard. As no known species that was inimical to the Federated Sentient Planets was capable of space travel, nothing short of the Others could have attacked the ARCT-10. A real mystery. Kai exhaled deeply.
“Does supper not appeal to you? I’d thought you were resigned to eating natural foods by now,” said Varian, breaking Kai’s reverie.
“I’m hungry enough to eat anything.” He grinned at her as he accepted a bowl.
Once they had finished eating, Lunzie rinsed out the bowls and filled them with fruit steeped in its own juices. By then Kai was more tired than hungry so he put the bowl to one side and slipped down under the light blanket, closing his eyes. As he drowsed, he heard Portegin yawning loudly, complaining that he hadn’t done much to be so tired.
“You’re not quite recovered from cold sleep yet, you know,” Lunzie remarked. “You’ll have a full day tomorrow. Sleep now. There’s nothing more needs doing tonight.”
Kai was aware that the others were seeking their blankets and, as he lay, waiting for sleep to over take him, he grew envious of their ability to drop off so quickly. He was all the more surprised then to hear Lunzie’s quiet voice.
“Portegin, Varian, Triv, you will listen to me. You will hear nothing but my voice. You will obey only my voice. You will follow my directions implicitly for you entrust your lives to me. Acknowledge.”
Fascinated, Kai listened to the murmured assent of the three.
“Portegin, you will feel no pain, no matter what is done to the
flesh of your body. From the first blow, your body will be nerveless, impervious to pain. You will not bleed. You will command your body to relax and your flesh to absorb injury without discomfort. You will be unable to reveal anything except your name, Portegin, your rank as helmsman first class of the FSP Cruiser, 218-ZD-43. You are part of a rescue mission. You know no more than that of your present. Your childhood years are open, your years of service as well, except that all service was with the Space Fleet. This is your first visit to Ireta. You will feel no pain, no matter what is done to the flesh of your body and the channels of your mind. You have a barrier against pain and mental intrusion. Your mind is locked to control. Your nerves and pain centers are under my control. I will allow nothing to cause you pain or distress.”
Lunzie asked Portegin to repeat her instructions but the man’s toneless murmur was inaudible to Kai.
The medic then began to instruct Varian, whom she called Rianav. Here the parameters were more complex. She drew on Varian’s two years in her birth-planet’s martial corps, building a detailed recent memory which seemed to include facts of personal history unexpectedly known to Lunzie but not to Kai. The hypnotic briefing would insure that Varian-Rianav acted and thought as a career Fleet officer. She also erected barriers to protect Varian-Rianav against any intrusion or pain above and beyond the control Varian could produce herself with the exercise of Discipline. The cover personality for Varian was tightly woven out of fact and half-truth and so logical that Kai wondered if Lunzie was using the life history of an actual person. Kai was awed for he realized that he was listening to an accomplished Adept and there had been nothing in Lunzie’s service profile to indicate such competence. Of course, there wouldn’t be, beyond a mention of a term at Seripan, the center where Discipline was taught; a fact only other Disciples would recognize as significant.
As Lunzie quietly set barriers in the mind of Triv-Titrivell, Kai began to wonder if there was any covert reason why ARCT’s administrators had recommended her as medic. He decided that it was only chance: what else? Most medics were disciples since hypnotic control to inhibit pain was more effective than anesthesia and the simplest method of curing mental trauma. The Iretan expedition had been considered a straight forward search for transuranics which was why, Kai was certain, two relatively young people were given the co-leadership. He thought grimly of the counts against himself and Varian: mutiny and a minority group all but established on what should have been an extraordinarily rich FSP planet. Exploration and Evaluation Corps wouldn’t like that, much less the FSP who preferred to keep all transuranics under their control, leasing them only to stable corporations.
He supposed they should have remained awake and done their utmost to thwart the heavyworlders, though how they could have accomplished anything significant without equipment or weapons he was incapable of imagining. A leader’s prime responsibility was to bring back the full complement of his expedition, preferably having completed his assignment. A resigned sigh escaped his lips.
“You were awake, Kai?” Lunzie’s voice was soft and Kai realized that she had moved beside him with a bowl in her outstretched hand.
“So, you fixed some fruit?” he asked, opening his eyes and looking at her.
She nodded. Odd that he had never noticed before what beautiful and compelling eyes she had.
Kai lifted the neglected shell in gentle salute and drank the juice before he began to eat the fruit.
“I wasn’t hungry. But I’m awfully glad you can give them more protection, Lunzie.”
“Yes, it’s always easier to lie if you think you’re telling the truth.”
“I won’t worry so much about that meeting tomorrow “
“I’m sure you won’t.” The medic’s low voice was tinged with
amusement. She took the emptied shell from his hand.
What ever Lunzie had added to the innocent fruit was potent. He swam down into darkness, completely aware that in the morning, he would not remember that Lunzi was an Adept.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rianav wished that they had a squad of troopers with them. Titrivell and Portegin were good men; she’d been in several tricky situations with them but, if her commander’s suspicion should prove valid, three troops in a four-man sled, equipped with only force belts and stunners were woefully insufficient.
Still, until a colony ship did somehow slip through the commander’s surveillance, three veterans could cope. She doubted the survivors had any sophisticated weapons if that Aygar had been hunting with a crossbow and lance. Not that such a primitive weapon was ineffective: bolts from a crossbow could penetrate thick metal and, at close range, probably knock fragments from the ceramic hull of the sled. The original landing party’s stunners would by now be inoperative. She’d match herself and Titrivell against any two or three of Aygar’s size so she really had no reason to be apprehensive about the meeting. Except Aygar’s insistence that it be held away from his current living area.
On
ce she had set the course for the secondary camp, she gestured to Portegin to take the controls. She must be fresh for the conference. Titrivell took the starboard observation post while she settled herself to port. Not that there was much to see except huge trees festooned with climbers and swaths of damaged vegetation where large beasts had broken trails through the dense jungle. She didn’t fancy any ground work there.
“Lieutenant?” Portegin interrupted her and she followed the direction of his point.
“The size of the creatures! Recorder going, Portegin? I want the captain to believe this!’
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
Titrivell leaned amidships, to see past Portegin’s shoulder. “They
must weigh megatons. Glad we’re up here instead of down there.”
“Bet they give the heavyworlders a tussle.” Portegin glanced over his shoulder as they passed the herd of creatures, eating whatever was within the reach of their long sinuous necks.
“We’ll have no jokes here, Portegin.” Rianav’s tone was stern. One couldn’t permit even subtle hints about sentient carnivores. Any member of the Federation that defied the civilized edict forbidding consumption of living creatures did so at the peril of its FSP membership.
“Well, Lieutenant,” said Portegin in a chastened tone, “I have heard from reliable sources that, on their own planets, the heavyworlders don’t adhere to Prohibition.”
“All the more reason for our mission, then, stupid as these creatures appear to be,” and she waved at yet another herd of foraging beasts, “they deserve as much of a chance to evolve as any other species. And our protection while they do so.”
“Lieutenant, fliers at eleven.” Portegin was pointing at an airborne species.
There were three of them. Golden of either feather or fur, Rianav could not be sure at the distance, but their presence in the sky was oddly reassuring.
“Shall I take evasive action?” asked Portegin when it became obvious that the golden-winged creatures had altered their course to take up a position on the same level, and at the same speed, as the sled.