Acorna's Rebels

by Anne McCaffrey

  Acorna smiled. She had heard the plop of paws behind her, indicating the return of gravity and the departure of the cat. His harness had given him no trouble. When he chose to shed it, RK divested himself of a harness as easily as he shed hairs in warm environmental conditions.

  In her time with RK, Acorna had learned that the cat understood what went on around him almost as well as Becker did. He just made a game of letting his human companions underestimate him so that he was free to follow his own agenda without interference. She did not doubt that he would hide if it suited him.

  Or not.

  Becker shook his head when he turned to see the empty harness. “Well, he knows the ship like the back of his paw. He hides so well even I can’t find him if he doesn’t want me to.”

  Nadhari nodded. “The sacred cat will choose his own path. RK must sense where he is now.”

  “Maybe,” Becker said, scratching his head. “I don’t really know for sure if RK has ever been here. When I rescued him, it was from a wrecked ship in a totally different quadrant of space. He might have been a second generation ship’s cat—you know, from a litter a Makahomian mama Temple cat had after she was smuggled off-world.”

  “He knows,” Nadhari said.

  “Permission to come aboard,” an unfamiliar voice hailed them from the com unit.

  “Granted,” Becker grunted. “Uh—just a minute. I have to send the robolift down for you.”

  “The what?”

  “We’re a salvage vessel. Functional, not pretty. We don’t have a nice door in the side of the ship for you to hook your gantry to. Just a sec.”

  Becker pushed the button that activated the robolift, but though there was a groan and a clank somewhere in the workings, nothing moved. “Sorry,” he said to the com unit. “It may have to thaw a while. We had a little trouble with our navigation system and made a forced landing on that swampy neighbor planet of yours.” He consulted the computer and gave the coordinates. “We were viewport-deep in water when Captain MacDonald pulled us out and saved our necks. Going back out in space dripping wet might have iced up the lift a bit. Since we’re going for speed here, I’ll try taking a torch and a crowbar to the seals. That should work. It’s gonna be a minute before I can let you in, though. Maybe you better go see Captain MacDonald first.”

  “Very well, since the timing is useful to me. Lieutenant Commander Macostut will be joining the boarding party as soon as he is able to, so that he may on this occasion personally greet the Linyaari ambassador.”

  “That’s very courteous of him. The ambassador will approve. I’ll let you know when I free the lift.”

  Mac said, “I will attend to it, Captain.”

  “I can do it,” Becker called after him. “It’s my ship.”

  Before Mac could return, however, Acorna said, “If I may make a suggestion, Captain. These Federation officials strike me as being impressed by rank and privilege. Nadhari and I have decided to use this delay to change into more formal clothing. She has her dress uniform. Miiri packed something…ambassadorial…for me to wear to meet the Niriians, which I plan to put on before the planetary delegation arrives. Perhaps you might wish to don your most impressive uniform as well?”

  He considered a moment, rubbed his chin, and sniffed at his armpits. “I guess I could shower and shave, too, huh?”

  Acorna hid her amusement and listened to the ship’s sounds for a moment. “Nadhari has just finished her shower, I believe, so there will be time for you to do those things, should you wish to.”

  Acorna and Becker escorted the Wats out of the bridge and back to their quarters, where they locked them in, and continued on to their separate quarters to make themselves ready for their official visitors. By the time Mac returned to the bridge, Acorna had donned her new outfit and taken time to enhance her appearance, so that her silvery mane curled fetchingly to frame her face and grace her long neck. Her horn shone like a golden opal. Her trews were cut so that the feathers on her calves made a decorative trim, edged with small jewels that matched the beautifully embellished belt girding her flowing white tunic. Grandam Naadiina had given Acorna the belt to wear before the venerable lady’s heroic death. It had been a lover’s gift from Naadiina’s lifemate to Naadiina, and Acorna cherished the memories it brought each time she put it on.

  And now there was her new treasure, she thought with a mixture of pleasure and pain, touching the disk through her tunic. It was a gift of her lover if not actually from him. Should she wear it outside? She decided it was too precious, that she didn’t want to share or explain it just yet.

  Nadhari wore the dress uniform of the Red Bracelets, as she had when attending formal occasions with Mr. Li. It was, not surprisingly, red, gleaming with brass trim, and made of a material that both enhanced the shape of her panther-lithe body and allowed her complete freedom of movement.

  Acorna wasn’t sure where Becker’s uniform came from—her guess was that it was salvage from another ship. The captain wore a tailored gray outfit with silver buttons and trim, an attractive combination with the gray of Becker’s mustache and the little beard he was sporting. He wore an insignia of a silver vulture rampant over a barrel, with his name and title forming a leafy silver border around the image.

  He tossed Mac a plainer version of the same uniform and said, “Go oil yourself or something, Mac, and put this on to meet the bigwigs.”

  Mac’s pupils dilated with pleasure. “A uniform? I am now an official uniformed crew member! Oh, Captain! May I have a hug?”

  “Hell, no, you’d crush the life out of me! Where do you get that stuff anyway? You’ve been talking to Mrs. Harakamian again, haven’t you?”

  Mac was busy stripping and pulling on the new uniform.

  “Not here,” Becker said. “There are ladies present.”

  “Oh,” Mac said, clearly wondering what one thing had to do with the other.

  “And pick up your old stuff on your way out,” Becker grumbled. “You want this place to look like a pigsty?”

  Acorna suppressed a giggle. Only through Mac’s industry had the Condor gained any semblance of order. Before the android had been restored, reprogrammed, and thus rehabilitated from his service under the treacherous criminal Kisla Manjari, Becker’s ship had more closely resembled a junkyard than an interstellar vessel. Jonas had had salvage stored and piled in every available corner and strapped overhead. The only maneuvering room around the ship had been little more than a narrow trail from one end of the Condor to the other.

  She supposed Becker’s remark was compounded of embarrassment and the sense of captainly importance he assumed with his fancy uniform.

  With the robolift cleared for action and everything shipshape, Becker hailed the Federation post again. In a short time the ship’s outside monitors picked up a small group of uniformed people walking in tight formation toward the ship. Becker lowered the robolift, which worked perfectly.

  After exchanging questioning glances at the unusual outfitting of the ship, the delegation followed the man in the shiniest uniform forward. Once he had stepped onto the lift, they joined him. Becker pushed the button to raise them to the lower deck. “Ladies, we should greet our guests, don’t you think?” he said.

  Lieutenant Commander Dsu Macostut made his priorities clear immediately when he ignored Becker’s salute and bowed instead over Acorna’s hand. “Ambassador Harakamian-Li. We have, even on this backwater posting, heard of your remarkable exploits on Kezdet and the splendid work you and your patrons have done with Maganos Moonbase. We never imagined we would have the honor to meet you.”

  “You’re very kind,” Acorna said, amused. Becker was chewing his mustache, highly irritated by the snub to his well-dressed authority. In his view, on a ship, the captain should always have first priority. “Please allow me to introduce my dear friends and shipmates. This is Captain Jonas Becker, with whom I believe some of you have spoken. And here are the ship’s android MacKenZ, and Commander Nadhari Kando.”

&nb
sp; “The legendary Nadhari Kando, who left Makahomia as a humble acolyte and became one of the famous Red Bracelets? Words fail to express my delight. Your steppe-cousin often speaks of you with pride. We are great friends, you know, and he is fond of bragging about you. He says that although he now rules the Mog-Gim Plateau, you did not wash out of Federation training as he did.”

  Nadhari opened her mouth to protest, but Lieutenant Commander Dsu held up a restraining hand, “Of course we are all well aware that it was his wish to serve his own people here on Makahomia that was the true cause of his refusal to accept a commission in the Corps. And I must say, in losing a soldier, the Corps has gained instead a remarkable ally. Mulzar Edu is the most progressive, enlightened ruler it has ever been the Federation’s pleasure to work with on your planet. Your steppe-cousin is truly a man of vision.”

  Becker did something he had rarely done before with Acorna—he aimed a thought right at her. He didn’t actually have any idea that she would receive it, but he just had to comment on the Federation officer’s attitude and couldn’t do so aloud.

  (Hallelujah,) he said, (the fan club has arrived!)

  (Why, Captain, you’re using telepathy!) Acorna replied mentally. The grumblings in Becker’s mustache and beard turned to pleased and slightly embarrassed huffings. These turned to shock as he realized suddenly that he had read her loud and clear. He replied tentatively, but again in mind-speak, (Yeah! How about that. Look, Ma, no mouth! Hey, is this mind-reading stuff catching?) he asked, clearly enjoying having a secret with her from everyone else.

  (Not unless you can hear what I or others are thinking when we are not consciously sending to you,) Acorna said. (But if you address your thoughts to me, I will certainly do my best to read them and respond in kind.)

  Becker’s eyes sparkled. (That’s great. I like this. Let’s do it more often.) He looked as pleased as a three-year-old boy with a new land-skimmer sled.

  She smiled at him—no teeth showing, of course—and would have hugged him had they not been in the company of strangers.

  Macostut was still speaking, after a spate of fulsome compliments to Nadhari. “Perhaps you illustrious ladies would care to come ashore while my men and the captain go over the inventory of this vessel? Our accommodations are spartan and humble, but are, I am told, somewhat more luxurious than those of the average—er—salvage vessel.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Lieutenant Commander, but I’m afraid that I must refuse your kind offer for the time being. Captain Becker has a large and varied inventory, with which we are both familiar,” Acorna said. “As my close personal friend, he has granted me the use of his vessel as my traveling embassy with no cost to myself or to the planetary government I represent in exchange for my help as a crew member when needed. Captain Becker has saved my life and the lives of my people many, many times.”

  “That is true for me as well,” Nadhari said gravely. “I owe him my life many times over. Captain Becker and his vessel were crucial in successfully defeating multiple Khleevi invasions and in saving me from equally terrible enemies.”

  Macostut tried to look impressed and more cordial toward Becker, but Acorna sensed resentment radiating from him. The Federation officer clearly wanted Nadhari and her to himself. His thoughts seemed to indicate that he felt another male officer would cramp his style. “And these—what did you call them? Khleevi? They needed defeating?”

  “Oh, I suppose that the news of the rest of the universe doesn’t reach you often here, as isolated as you are,” Nadhari said. “Or you would have at least heard of the invasion of the Federation planet Rushima by the Khleevi, which was foiled by a massive combined force of Federation, mercenary, and private ships only after Acorna’s relatives came to warn her of the impending attack and enabled the Federation and its allies to surprise the invading Khleevi. It was quite a battle. I was there.”

  “But he—the captain, I mean—wasn’t in on that one?”

  “That was before we met,” Becker said shortly. “If we’re going to inventory my cargo, we’d best get this show on the road, ladies and gentlemen, or we’ll be here a month before we’re officially allowed to disembark.”

  “Oh, no, Captain. A quick look will suffice, I think, since you come so highly recommended by a local celebrity as well as a foreign ambassador. And we must be well done with this before second setting, when you must all dine with me. I insist.”

  “You mean real food?” Becker said.

  “Exactly. There have been a few shortages recently on Makahomia, but we are well enough supplied here. I will leave you now in order to finalize the preparations while you and your…crew…escort my officers on their inspection tour. They in turn will then escort you to our guest quarters and on to the officers’ mess. You and your crew and Captain MacDonald will of course be our guests.”

  “I will be so pleased for the opportunity to thank Captain MacDonald properly,” Nadhari said. “We would probably be looking out the Condor’s submerged viewport at those repulsive reptilian life forms and breathing our last were it not for him answering our Mayday so quickly and effectively.”

  “Lieutenant-Commander Macostut,” Acorna said, “speaking of Captain MacDonald, I would like to ask him to relay a message to our headquarters about our mishap. I wish to inform my uncle of our safe arrival. May we provide Uncle Hafiz with your outpost coordinates in case he wishes to contact us?”

  “That’s not a problem, Ambassador. However, I should mention to all of you that in order to avoid cultural contamination of the Makahomians, no technology that is in excess of what could be produced locally with indigenous resources is permitted beyond the official boundaries of this spaceport. The only gate from this compound, which opens into the city, contains a very sensitive scanner to make sure that no one carrying any off-world devices can pass through undetected. All communications emanating from our post are monitored. There is a dampening field around the post that will obliterate, scramble, or otherwise impede the signals from any ship attempting to contact another com unit in the civilian sector, should such a unit find its way there despite our precautions.”

  Becker whistled. “Seems pretty restrictive.”

  Macostut regarded him coldly. “Not at all, Captain. The Federation believes these measures are preferable to overflying Makahomia ourselves, causing yet more cultural contamination. We take our responsibility here very seriously.” He turned back to Acorna, all smiles. “That said, we would be more than happy to relay your message to Mr. Harakamian through Federation channels if you wish, Ambassador.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but Captain MacDonald has already offered to do that,” Acorna replied. He hadn’t, but she felt certain he would be amenable. Just to tie up loose ends, she quickly returned to the bridge and hailed him. She didn’t want to explain to Macostut or any other official that she not only wished to inform Hafiz of the Condor’s change of route but also wanted to learn if any messages for her had been relayed from the Moon of Opportunity through Manganos Moonbase. It would be just her luck if Aari had returned to Vhiliinyar and no on knew how to reach her!

  Four

  The officers’ mess was filled with fragrant candles. Their soft glow lit the room, but the scent of their melting wax did not mask the succulent odors of cooking food that made Becker’s nostrils twitch. The group from the Condor were all very hungry and tired, since the inspection had taken much longer than that “little walk-through” Macostut had promised them.

  Though the inspection crew did not find RK, they did find the Wats and asked to see their papers. The Wats didn’t have any papers. Paper, much less papers, hadn’t been around when they were born on Old Terra. The Wats did not have files to speak of, either, and even if they had, the ship’s computers were still not working properly after their little adventure with Khleevi hardware. Becker had finally gotten the bureaucrats to leave by blaming the lack of documentation on the malfunctioning computers.

  The inspection team had also wondered
about Mac. Kisla Manjari’s name came up when they verified the android’s records. That certainly seemed to worry the Federation inspectors, who were familiar with the Manjari name. But the android had happily assured them of his complete rehabilitation. Since one of the team, a female chief petty officer, showed polite interest, Mac showed her his original model number. He then explained in detail about his various non-factory-authorized upgrades and reprogramming at Becker’s hands, up to and including his new promotion to uniformed crew member. Mac could be exhaustingly thorough sometimes. In the end, the team had cleared the android, probably in self-defense.

  But by the time they were ready to disembark, Acorna had her answer from Captain MacDonald—no message about Aari was waiting for her on the Arkansas Traveler from Maganos or MOO. The only message from either place was a short list Hafiz Harakamian had sent, naming things Acorna should let it be known she was in the market for while they were on Makahomia.

  She saw one of these items—or rather, several specimens of one of them, as soon as Becker, Nadhari, and she were seated across the table from their host. Seated at dinner with them were a few Federation officers, two men in what appeared to be the local priestly raiment, and a young girl similarly clad. That raiment was what caught Acorna’s eye. The attire was red, woolen, and long-sleeved. One priest’s clothing was trimmed around the neckline and sleeves with a two-inch-wide ornate band of multicolored embroidery depicting cats, beautifully embellished with cat’s-eye stones. The other priest’s robe featured a plain stripe of gold embroidery around his sleeves and neckline, and the girl’s robe was unornamented. The man in the most elaborate robe had thick dark hair and a luxuriant beard and mustache, in contrast to the other man, who was as bald and clean-shaven as the first man was hirsute. The girl’s braided hair was so dark an auburn as to appear black, but the red highlights in it shot back reflections of the candlelight the same color as her robe.