Acorna's Rebels

by Anne McCaffrey

  The flitter finally outdistanced the storm. As the sand cleared, the full effect of the shadow-bisected moons stared Kando and Macostut in the face.

  Macostut swore. “I never saw them do that before,” he said, his voice quivering very slightly with awe and—could that be fear? Kando grinned.

  “Really, Dsu, you should have been raised here and I should have stayed in the Federation. It’s just a cosmic event, probably a trick of the ring shadow that happens every hundred years or so. Or so I’m informed by the more learned among my pious brethren. It is NOT, however, the Star Cat or anything else supernatural.”

  “Of course not,” Macostut said gruffly. “I’m perfectly aware of that. It just took me by surprise. Must have been being kicked in the head by your charming cousin.”

  “I’m very glad to hear that, because although it isn’t supernatural, it is something else far more helpful.”

  Macostut seemed to be tiring of his role as executive officer to Kando’s command. He said, “I assume you’re going to enlighten me.” He did not sound friendly.

  “It is a navigational aid. If, while the moons are arranged on the horizon exactly as they are now, you head straight for the place between them, you will come in time to the Aridimi stronghold.”

  “You know this to be true?” Macostut asked.

  “It says so in all of the legends and holy books,” Kando told him.

  “Why haven’t more people found the stronghold, then?”

  “The moons are in this configuration only once in a hundred Standard years. And it takes time to follow the omens across the desert. By the time any of us made the crossing, the moons would be in some other phase. It’s poetic information, but hardly useful in a primitive culture with so many restrictions. But that’s no reason to suppose it’s inaccurate.”

  They flew toward the moons without speaking. Kando filled the time by unpacking the chemical bombs with which he intended to treat the lake. These were used in the galactic mining of the cat’s-eye chrysoberyls, and should also serve to either poison the priests or drive them out of the stronghold, where they would perish in the waterless vastness of the desert. True, they were used to doing without much water, but they would not be able to survive with none at all. He wondered if the Temple would make a decent initial processing plant and packing facility.

  After the flitter had continued flying for some time, though, he began to lose faith in the moons as a navigational aid. Such directions were imprecise, after all, and fraught with the kind of mysticism that he hated.

  Macostut, on the other hand, seemed to be overtaken with awe at the vastness of the desert landscape. “Will you look at that crater!” he cried, nodding to the black hole beneath them, full of rock and little else.

  Kando was delighted. “Aha! We’re near now. The stronghold is near a crater, and the lake is said to be nearby as well.”

  “Maybe I should fly around a little and look for it?”

  “No, keep straight between the moons,” Kando said, though he was sorely tempted by the idea of exploring the crater.

  His perseverance was soon rewarded, although both he and Macostut almost missed spotting their target. As they flew over the crater and back into the Serpent’s Spine ridge, the land was split between the ridge’s vertebrae. The flitter was nearly past the split directly on their route when he looked directly down and saw that the space in the split gleamed in the moons’ light.

  “The lake!” he cried, pointing. “There it is. Take us down there.”

  The flitter passed through the crack in the ridge with barely two meters on each side of the craft to spare.

  Silently it descended, and Kando gazed with wonder at the deep clear waters, within whose depths even now he could see the eyes of the chrysoberyls shining through the ripples. The moons’ reflection seemed to blink in answer to his gaze as the slight turbulence from the flitter’s descent ruffled the surface. Behind the flitter, the Temple was shadowed by the rocky face of the cliff, but its windows, though darkened, mirrored the water and the moons. Just beyond the flitter, stands of tall trees and grasses fluttered and waved.

  “It’s the most astonishingly beautiful place I’ve seen since I’ve been here,” Macostut breathed.

  “Right,” said Kando, and opened the hatch to heave the first chemical bomb into the pristine waters.

  Acorna followed the flickering torch carried by the old priest as he led her through the bowels of the Temple. It was very quiet now, with everyone off to bed, and all she heard was the soft shuffle of the old priest’s steps, the crackle of the torch, her own footsteps and heartbeat, and the sound of running water.

  The priest led her up and down stairways and through walls that seemed to contain no doorways until, as they passed through the last of these, she saw the water that had been making the sound. A broad, lively stream ran beside the narrow walkway. Acorna guessed it must feed into the lake. The Temple was built with its foundation underwater. The corridor through which she walked was inscribed with drawings as the other cave had been. It was ancient and did not appear to have been constructed. Possibly the earliest temple structure had simply made use of another lava tube like the one containing the lake. Volcanic ranges were full of such holes, some small, but as in this case, some of great depth and volume. The one containing the lake was cracked open at the top, but at one time far back in the planet’s prehistoric times, the waters would have been deep inside the mountain.

  Her head began to throb with the rush of the water, the flicker of the torch, the closeness of the tunnel.

  Then suddenly the priest stopped directly in front of her.

  She stopped, too. He pointed the torch at a rough white column set in the middle of the stream.

  Sensing that she didn’t understand, he moved in closer, and now she saw the shape was not a column, but a statue set upon a pedestal with the well that was the mouth of the stream bubbling up at the foot of its base. It was very tall and white, like the stone from which the Serpent’s Spine ridges were made, not the cat’s-eye stone used more often in Temples for ornament. The first thing she saw was the outstretched hand. Its carved fingers bore, like her own, just one knuckle. The statue’s feet were cloven hoofed, with carved feathery hairs curling up the calves, just as such feathers curled up her own calves. The statue had hair that curled around a face and the deformed and slightly stunted horn that adorned it. She recognized the statue’s features and posture—all except for the eyes, into whose sockets cat’s-eye stones had been set, skewing the otherwise excellent likeness of Aari. But as she faced the statue full on, she realized that these particular chrysoberyls had wider stripes in the middle than usual, giving the eyes a less feline appearance than they might have otherwise, and the face could have been that of her mate when he was lost in thought.

  “Aari,” she said. Definitely Aari, just as in her dream.

  The priest turned and beamed at her. “The Companion.”

  She was about to ask all of the questions in her mind when they were replaced by a rush of intense pain and an agonized cry, (Acorna! Help! Please, I escaped Edu, but he is on his way to the sacred lake to poison it, and then wipe out the Aridimi priesthood. You have to stop him.)

  The feelings engendered by the cry were so intense that Acorna fell against the wall before she could regain her balance. The old priest turned, alarmed at what he saw in her face, but she was oblivious to him. (Nadhari!) she mind-called. (You’re wounded. Where are you?)

  (Never mind about me. You have to stop Edu and Macostut. I don’t know how long I was unconscious. It may be too late already.)

  (It may be too late for you if we don’t get help for you. There are many people here to protect the lake.)

  (He has poison, Acorna. Do something!)

  (I will. But, Nadhari, I need you to concentrate now. Where are you? How long did it take you to get there? Did you happen to notice the coordinates again shortly before you left the flitter?)

  (No—yes, there
was a sandstorm. A terrible storm. I was sucked out into it when I tried to overpower Edu and Macostut and take over the ship. I dove into a drift of sand to escape having my skin stripped off, but I’m still pretty raw and sooo thirsty. The storm is over now, though, so it isn’t so bad.)

  (I think I have a good sense of where you are. Captain Becker can come for you. The Aridimi have searchers out, too. Someone will come to find you. Make noise if you can.)

  (I can’t do much,) Nadhari said regretfully. (I don’t think I can speak at all, my throat is so raw.)

  Acorna turned her thoughts to Becker. (Captain, I am receiving a telepathic message from Nadhari. I think she is somewhere near these coordinates. Will you please go look for her? She may die otherwise. And, Captain?)

  Becker, who had been asleep when her mind prodded his own, growled, “What?”

  (Watch out for the Mulzar’s Federation flitter. Nadhari says they were also caught in the sandstorm, but they flew off after ditching her in the desert. She says Kando intends to poison the sacred lake.)

  (I’ll keep my eyes peeled, Princess.)

  Acorna allowed the present situation to flood back into her senses. She saw the old priest bending over her, a look of excitement so great his wizened old body could hardly contain it emanating from every pore.

  “Even so must it have been when the Companion came to save us. So he knew words that were not spoken, saw events that were not in front of his eyes.”

  Acorna nodded. “Yes, we do that. And, although there is so much I need to ask you about this wonderful statue—about Aari’s visit here—the lake is in danger. Mulzar Kando and an accomplice intend to poison it.”

  Twenty-one

  Splash! RK’s ears twitched at the sound. He sniffed and opened an eye, trying to keep the dream he was having about Haruna safe behind his other, closed eye.

  He hadn’t noticed the hum of the flitter or the disturbance it made in the air. He was so used to such things, it was more noticeable to him when they were not present than when they were.

  The splash woke him immediately, however. No one had mentioned fish, but it was always possible. That lake could contain fish. Real, live ones that wiggled and swam and made wonderful sport before you slapped them silly with a blow from a mighty paw and devoured the fresh fish flesh…ahhh.

  But his waking eye didn’t catch the silver gleam of a leaping lake denizen. It saw the flitter. And it saw the second item dropping into the lake from the flitter, which preceded the second, also nonfishy, splash.

  There was indeed something fishy about all of this, although not of the delicious sort.

  RK sat up, staring, his tail jerking.

  In the basket with the kittens, Grimla opened both eyes wide. (What is it?) she asked calmly, quietly, so as not to alarm the little ones.

  (Don’t look now, but I think it’s your fearless leader, the Mulzar, and that clown from the Federation.)

  The kittens mewed excitedly. They were more confident now that they knew they weren’t being abandoned, and one after the other asked in small, squeaky, annoying voices, “New ma, what’s a fearless?” “New ma, what’s a leader?” “New ma, what’s a Mulzar?” “New ma, what’s a clown?” “New ma, what’s a Federation?”

  (I’ll go with you,) Grimla said. All of the tiny mouths which had held her down were now open with questions and therefore unfastened from her person. She jumped out of the basket. (Whatever he’s up to, it can hardly be worse than kittens. I’m too old for this.)

  (You fought me for them,) RK reminded her.

  (I thought you were going to hurt them,) she said. (Some toms do.)

  (Me? Naah. It’s just I never saw another cat that small before. I was curious. I am curious now.)

  She rubbed her side against his as she joined him on the side of the balcony and they watched the flitter set down among the foliage on the far end of the lake. (Oh, I know better now. I can see you’re an old softie. Are we going to stand around here all day or are we going to investigate? I’ll have to return to feed the children again before long.) She sighed and walked back for a moment to give the nearest kitten a lick, then hopped off the balcony. (You coming?)

  (As soon as I can. I’d better put this Temple’s so-called guardians and the two-leggeds on red alert.)

  But as he turned to wake the other cats, he found himself hemmed in. Large, furry bodies slunk to the edge of the balcony and surrounded him, while behind them, from all ledges, balconies, door and window frames, the chrysoberyl eyes of hundreds of other guardians stared unblinkingly into the shadows.

  (Acorna?) RK used his cat-to-humanoid telepathy, which here on Makahomia seemed to come not so much from his brain but up from the ground through his very paw pads. (We got trouble out here. Pass it on.)

  (I know. I’m on my way.)

  Miw-Sher sat up, wiping her eyes. She looked drowsily out over the canyon, then wiped her eyes again. “The lake!”

  RK didn’t need her to tell him about it. He could smell it already. The lips of every cat on the Temple were curled back over the scent glands, the hackles of each cat raised, the tails bushed. Even the kittens tried to see through their closed eyes and bristled instinctively, their individual baby hairs standing up on their uncoordinated little bodies.

  The waters, so clear and clean just a moment before, were boiling and steaming with an acrid stench that was worse than the combined signatures of a hundred tom cats looking for love.

  RK growled low in his throat and said to the other cats near him, (Okay, troops, here’s what we do. We run down the beach and some of us jump up on the ledge back there and then we drop down onto them as they come out of the flitter over in those trees and demolish them.)

  The nearest cat, this one a large sleek one with midnight stripes, said, (You do that. We’ll do this.)

  And he and every other Temple guardian emitted ear-splitting yowls that did to the auditory senses what the polluted lake did to the olfactory ones.

  But as the great yowl started, a figure emerged from the foliage. Edu Kando! When he saw the cats and heard their yowl, he turned tail, but RK, Grimla, Pash, Haji, and Sher-Paw bounded after him, only to be out-sprinted by the larger, longer-legged Temple cats who guarded Aridimi. With a mighty coordinated leap, they brought him down, screaming their battle cries and—shooting sparks?

  But the cats on top of Kando began falling off, lying limp, and RK realized his enemy was shooting a laser pistol.

  Grimla hung onto a foot with teeth and claws. Among the roil of cats was a huge one. Miw-Sher, changed to cat form, waded into the fray. The Mulzar, freeing himself from the first ten cats to attack his body, backed up a pace, then fired at her. She crumpled. Grimla abandoned her place shredding Kando’s leg and jumped away from it, running to Miw-Sher. Kando fired again and Grimla lay smoking, a bare paw’s length from her friend.

  Then suddenly, behind them, the flitter rose jerkily from the foliage. Federation flitters were well armed. This one opened fire. Priests had joined the cats, but both quickly fell and dropped to the ground, and in some cases, into the roiling lake waters.

  RK grew very still inside, very numb, and slunk from the body of one fallen comrade to the body of another while the carnage continued. When he was behind the Mulzar, but very close, he leaped up on the arm that held the gun, hung on to it with deep sinkings of his front claws while he bit and churned his back claws with all his might.

  Kando’s grip loosened and RK thought that one more kick would set the laser pistol free.

  And then he felt a terrible crunching pain, as if his spine had broken, as Kando’s other hand crashed down upon him, and sent him flying into the foliage.

  As the pain of his injuries overcame him, he saw another huge cat, Tagoth, jumping over the fallen bodies. Acorna was just behind him, supporting the old priest.

  RK called out to her, but not with his mind. In fact it was just a feeble little mew, but she heard him, and looked up. Touching the old man with her horn, she steadied
him before she sprinted after Tagoth into the welter of bodies. She stopped first to bend over Miw-Sher.

  The Mulzar, nursing his shredded arm where RK had nailed him, didn’t bring the laser pistol up in time. Tagoth landed full on top of him, disarming him.

  But the flitter barked again. As Miw-Sher sat up, Tagoth’s arm raised and the flitter spiraled—slowly, it seemed to RK, down to the lake.

  Tagoth lowered his arm. Miw-Sher tried to rise to her feet. Acorna, clutching her throat, fell over her.

  No. That couldn’t be right. Acorna would not fall.

  But she did.

  Acorna fell. And lay still.

  No.

  RK’s world crashed from night blackness to a darkness far more profound.

  “Captain Becker, do you read me now?” Mac’s voice woke Becker from a fitful doze.

  The com unit was live again!

  “Mac, funny you should mention. I was going to call you as soon as I got the com unit back up. How did you fix it anyway?” He was genuinely curious, but remembering Mac’s tendency toward long-winded explanations, he decided curiosity could wait. “Never mind. No time now. I need to recalibrate the scanner to pick up someone on the ground and I need to do it now, without having to figure it out. Run through it with me.”

  “Yes, Captain, but…”

  “I’d ask Acorna, but she has other fish to fry back at the Temple. Nadhari is somewhere out in the desert, hurt. I need to find her.”

  “I am distressed to hear that, Captain, but…”

  “No ifs, ands, or buts about it, guy. Tell me how now before I miss her and she ends up dying.”

  “Very well, Captain,” Mac said. He rattled off the computations and Becker entered them quickly, his concentration narrowing to just the screen. No sooner had he adjusted his instruments than he spotted something right about where he supposed Nadhari might have been ditched. “Stay tuned, Mac. I think I got her now.”