Rissa and Tregare

by F. M. Busby

  Lying on his unhurt side and breathing heavily, Tregare slept. He had pushed the covers down to his waist; even so, sweat stood out on his face. The water jug was half-empty, but the chamber pot beside the bed had not been used. I shouldhave brought that for him-he has been up, and he should not be.

  She refiled the water jug and gently pulled the first cover up to his shoulder, in case the fever should settle. She sat beside him for a time, but he did not wake or move. She looked around the kitchen but found nothing that needed doing, so she went outside again.

  At first she saw no one, then heard a shout and turned to see Kenekke emerging from a storage building, tools slung from his belt and carrying a large sheet of heavy transparent plastic.

  She ran to meet him. "Shall I help you with that?"

  He bent to rest one edge of the sheet on the ground. "Sure -this thing isn't so heavy, but it's awkward. Want to take the back corner, and we'll carry it vertical?" She nodded; they picked up the sheet and proceeded, past the outhouse and around the cabin's corner, to the gaping window hole. They laid the plastic flat on the ground.

  "We'll need a ladder," he said, "but first I'll get this ready." He adjusted the torch's flame to its narrowest and quickly, precisely melted a small hole near a corner of the sheet, then others at intervals around the perimeter. "This is too big to go in the frame, and that's a day's job even if I had the right tools for it. So we'll nail it to the outside." He unsnapped a hand tool from his belt. "Nail gun-works by compressed gas. Just put the nozzle against a hole and pul the trigger. Now I'll get that ladder."

  While she waited, she walked across the plateau a litle way, until she could see, below a notch in the flattish surface, the downward sweep of hils. The sun's rays slanted; the pattern of light and shadow among the trees caught her interest. She watched until Kenekke hailed her, then rejoined him. The lad-der leaned against the wal, to one side of the window.

  "Pretty down there, isn't it, this time of day?" he said.

  "It is. I will never get used to the size of these Hills." She looked at the window. "What do we do first?" He tipped the plastic up on one edge. "I'l hold this so one corner's where it belongs; you go up the ladder and pin it. Then we put the ladder t'other side; you go up again; I pivot the sheet into position. You'l have to brace it on so it doesn't lean out-lucky there's no wind-and when I have it right, pin it again. Two holes is best. I can take it from there."

  Yes, she thought-it would work. The first part went easily, but on the other side she stood on the ladder with both hands occupied, balancing with no real handholds, until the first nail was driven. Then she grabbed quickly for a ladder rung, drove the other nail, and descended. Kenekke grinned. "Perfect. But it's funny-all the things you've done-and on the ladder, not high enough to hurt if you did fal, I could see you were nervous."

  She thought. "I was-yes. But not from the height. It was that I could not use my hands or eyes, or even very much of my attention, for balance. Only my feet and legs-and the rungjiurt my shins. It made me feel anxious, yes." "Well, it's done. I can do the rest. And thanks." "I should thank you, Anse. It is my comfort, and Tregare's,

  that we are restoring." "If it wasn't for you two, Main and I, we'd be dead meat. I tell you-yesterday I didn't have much hope for seeing this

  day." He laughed. "But here we are!" "Yes." She smiled at him. "Well, I will look in on Hain, and also see if any messages have come."

  in the scoutship, Deverel was much as .before. He said, "The Gustafson woman called. Once I convinced her I knew the situation, she said her gear's portable but lots more than an aircar load. I thanked her and said you or the captain would be in touch."

  "Good. Did she give any idea of the size of the equipment? Could this scout handle it, for instance? Because I would not like to load an aircar much, for the pass-and the more trips, the more time wasted.''

  "The scout? Sure-the stuff's not one big hunk. But-"

  "Is there a fuel problem?"

  "No. But who-? I mean, the captain's not able, yet."

  "I studied the controls on Inconnu. Except for complexity -and orientation, landing vertically and not horizontally-they are quite like an aircar's. Surely the scout's are not so dif-ferent."

  He stared at her. "Look-if I let you take this thing up and anything happened, I'd be better off with you than facing Tregare." She laughed. "I would not try it without his permission, surely-this is his property, not mine. No-I wil ask-but not until his fever ebbs and his head is clear."

  Deverel grinned. ''That's a relief-you had me worried." He nodded toward the comm-panel. "You want to cal Gus-tafson back?" She looked at her watch. "I do not know her working hours; she may have left her office." She shrugged and punched for Channel C. "I may as wel try."

  At Hulzein Lodge, a girl relayed her call; Ami Gustafson answered. "From the lousy picture, it has to be Tari Obrigo. I was just leaving, but go ahead-did you get my message?"

  "Yes, and thank you. Now, may I ask-how many normal aircar loadings would your equipment make?"

  "Oh-three, I'd say."

  "Then-to here, perhaps nine."

  "What-?"

  "It is not an easy route. But there may be a quicker way; I wil not know for a day or two. I caled only to thank you, ask my question, and let you know that action will not be im-mediate."

  "That's considerate; I appreciate it. Al right-call me when you decide. And if it's urgent, this terminal relays through to my home at night."

  "I see-and I wil not disturb you there with any mater that can wait."

  They said good-byes. Rissa cut the circuit and sat quietly, thinking. Then she shrugged. "For the moment there is nothing I can do; I wil put the mater aside."

  "It's good you can do that," said Deverel. "Some can't." Then; "How's the repairs, going? "

  "Temporary measures are complete. Anse is quite efficient."

  "From the looks of you, you've been working some, your-self."

  "Yes-for one person alone, some of it would have been quite awkward."

  "Given to understatement, as always!" She had not heard Kenekke enter. "She did a share. What I came to say, though-the captain's awake; I looked in on him."

  Rissa stood. "Is he all right?"

  "Improving, is my guess. Wants to see you."

  "Then I will go. Thank you."

  she hurried to the cabin and found Tregare sitting up, propped against a wadded mass of pillows, one cover pulled up over his chest, but leaving arms and shoulders free. He was still sweating, but much less, and his face was more relaxed. "Bran? You look better-but should you be up, this way?" He smiled. "I'm past the hump of it-weak, though." He gestured toward the empty jug. "Thought I'd get myself some water, and nearly fell out of bed on my face." "I'll get it." She filled the jug in the kitchen, returned and poured his glass ful. He reached for it, hand somewhat shaky, and drank it dry. She poured another; he sipped a litle and set it down.

  "I should not have left you so long, Bran."

  "Most of the time, until a few minutes ago, I was dead to the world. Heard you and Anse a few times, working outside-and I see things are fixed as wel as we need, for now. You're here soon enough-just right. Because I'm hungry, and too washed out to fix anything myself."

  "What would you like?"

  "There's some stew left, frozen. I think I'm in shape to tackle it."

  "All right." She put the container to thaw and heat, and returned. As she sat beside the bed, an odor reached her; she carried the chamber pot to the outhouse and emptied it, rins-ing it at an outdoor spigot before taking it back inside. She said, "While the stew heats, I have time for a shower." He nodded, and soon she stood under the stream of water, grateful for the relaxing heat.

  At dinner his appetite surprised her; she had expected him to be more eyes than stomach. He took two helpings, and finaly said,

  "That feels more like it. Now-you suppose you could change the dressings again? And after we've digested dinner a little, help me take a bath? That pot
wasn't the only thing that's stinking."

  For the most part, the bandages came away cleanly; only at a few spots did they stick and tear the crusts forming over the burns. Tregare raised his arm and sniffed at it. "Looks like the last lost hope of peace, doesn't it? But it's not as sore now, and smels of clean healing.'

  With a soft cloth she patted away cakings of old salve; with a damp one she sponged clean the skin around the wounds. "We will leave you unbandaged until after your bath, so as not to wet the dressings."

  "Sure. Won't hurt to let a litle air at the burns, either, long as I'm awake and can keep them from rubbing anything." They sat for a time. Then she helped him up and into the bathtub, filing it only to a level that did not reach the lowest burn. He sat with the injured arm resting on the side of the tub, leaning to keep the burned side higher than the other.

  "I can't do much of it," he said. "Just pretend I'm a baby." She laughed and set to work. To wash his head she leaned him forward-and to the left, away from the burns. For the rest she worked gently but quickly, careful not to tickle after one such accidental transgression caused him to start, and make an alarming splash. "I'll remember that," he said. "Tregare never forgets a tickle!"

  Rising, he needed less help, and stood while she dried him. He sat again as she spread salve thickly on fresh dressings and applied them. Then she brought him a robe.

  "What's this for? I'm going back to bed now."

  "Not until I change much of the bedding. You sweat so heavily, you have soaked it." So he waited while she stripped the bed and put on fresh covers, retaining only the top spread which was dry and odorless. Then she removed the robe and helped him into bed.

  "I'll need to be by the wall," he said, "so if we bump, it's on my good side." "Yes, of course."

  "And we can't-but maybe tomorrow, Rissa." "When you are healed enough, Bran-not before."

  "We'll see, then." He raised his face to her kiss; she turned the lights off and got in beside him. Her thoughts were busy; some time passed before she slept;

  in the morning Tregare's fever had gone; during the night he had not sweated noticeably. From the waist down, he dressed in his normal clothing-and without help, except that he could not straighten the bandaged arm enough to manage his boot snaps. He added a light, loose jacket that did not bind on the burned areas. He ate with evident enjoyment. Rissa waited until after-breakfast coffee to report her dealings with Ami Gustafson and her ideas about moving the equipment. "And so, Bran, if you think-"

  He waved his good hand. "Wait now-you want to fly the scout-just like that, without being checked out in her?" He tapped a finger on the table. "First place, the scout's been a hole card-nobody outside Base Two, except Hulzeins, knows it exists. But maybe that's not important now-let me think about it."

  Rissa thought a moment, then nodded. "I have not given it away, Bran."

  "Good. But if we use it, I'll have to fly it."

  "But why?" She repeated the arguments she'd given Deverel.

  Tregare paused, then said, "You're good with an aircar. But, you ever fly a racer?" She shook her head. "They do everything twice as fast and twice as hard. You might climb in-to one cold and learn it before it kiled you-the average aircar pilot wouldn't. And the scout-it's kitier, compared to racing aircars, than they are to the ones you're used to." He shook his head. "You're capable, peace knows-but al at once, it's too much to try."

  Chin resting on clasped hands, Rissa leaned forward. "Then a step at a time, Tregare. You think I could not lift it safely?"

  "Sure you could-just apply power until it raises, and more if it starts to wobble."

  "And then, going high for safety, would there not be leeway to experiment and learn the scout's responses?"

  "Yes, but-"

  "The landing, you wil say-that I must get it right the first time. But that is not true. I can practice against the altimeter -high enough to come to momentary stop in midair, with plenty of height in which to drop and regain thrust." Brows lowered, he looked at her. "Peace on a planet-of course you could!"

  "Then I have your permission?"

  He laughed. "Not so fast! It's a good idea-a damned good one-and sooner or later we'l do it. But for now-taking the scout to One Point One-let's wait and see. Maybe I'll be healthy in time to do it myself."

  She thought, then nodded. "Very well, Bran-I agree to that."

  Later, Tregare walking slowly and carefully, they went to the scout. Once he turned to her and said, "I'm just taking it easy, not to jar anything. I could move fast if I had to." She smiled then, and they climbed the ramp. Inside, Deverel was clearing the breakfast table, limping but no longer using the crutch. "Up and around-eh, Hain?"

  "Right, skipper-the bruise was worse than the gouge. It's not too sore if I keep it loosened up. Anse changed the ban-dage-I'm healing cleanly. But how's yourself? We've wor-ried."

  "Coming fine, now. Thing was-at first there-when by rights I should have rested, I had to act fast. So yesterday I paid for it-shock and fever. Taking it easy now, but on the mend."

  At the comm-panel, he punched a conference call on scram-ble. Soon Limmer, Vanois, and Gowdy-each on a screen seg-ment-faced him. He said, "Casualty reports first-right? Up here it's just Hain and I, and we're both mending." Limmer said, "Here, add five dead-we found two more, and three wounded didn't make it." He gave the total figures, by ships. "There's less than half a dozen in sick bay-energy guns mostly kill you or they don't."

  "Walking wounded?"

  Limmer shook his head. "I don't even have a count on that. People on the job, they stop by for treatment; the medics haven't bothered keeping records."

  Tregare laughed. "If it doesn't worry them, it doesn't worry me." Then he sobered. "But it's hell-we had to lose so many." He shook his head. "No choice, though, that I can see.

  "Well, then-with all the cleaning up to do, I expect the

  regular work's been stalled. But are you ready to start again

  now?"

  "Pretty much so," said Limmer. "Except-I wish there was some way to move Deuces Wild. When Inconnu gets hereand others-the hulk will be in the way, slow things down. And the blowup put it on a tilt. Anyone landing or taking off, you see-the blast could knock it over, maybe wreck another ship."

  Squinting, Tregare frowned. "Which way's it leaning, and how much?" Limmer told him; after a moment, Tregare nodded. "I think I see it, but check me. If you put the winch-tractor over by the crater wall-azimuth one-fifty, say-dug in so it can't move-"

  "You talks foolish, Tregare! Tractor won'ts move it a ship-can'ts even to pull it over." Tregare grinned. "Hear the rest, Raoul, will you? Now-run the cable to Deuces Wild. Take at least a half turn around the ship-a full one, if possible-before you attach it, high as you can manage. There's extra cable in supplies, if you need it."

  "I still says-"

  Limmer's voice growled. "Like Tregare said, let's hear all of it."

  "All right-guess me the azimuth of the westernmost land-ing leg."

  Vanois answered. "Close to two hundreds ten, it is."

  "Perfect!" Tregare gestured. "Run your winch tension up until the safety clutch smokes; then blow that leg out with thermite and hit the override! You see?"

  "I sees! Ship starts to fall, you puts a twist on it."

  "Yes," said Limmer. "If it lands rolling, even a little, there's barely enough slope that maybe the winch can keep it rolling."

  Tregare nodded. "Just be sure you blow the cable free before Deuces Wild starts to wrap up in it-or that tractor comes out like a cork, out of any hole we could dig."

  Limmer chuckled. "And slack tension first. Sure, Tregare. And we'll salvage what's worth it, starting now, before it gets jarred up."

  "Fine. Now, then-after that, assuming it works, you can start cutting No Return for the extra turrets; it's all marked. And whenever the mountings are in place and inspected, the hardware can go in. We'll be down to help on that." He continued. There were questions, and he answered them. Then; "Hilaire-if you
haven't told those other six of Peralta's that their lives are safe, do it. And tell the whole fif-teen they won't be locked up much longer-that I'll decide who can rejoin the ship, that wants to, and the rest go free in the city."

  He turned to Rissa. "Can you think of anything else for now?"

  She leaned over to face the screen. "Only-my greetings, also."

  "That's it, then. I'll be down there as soon as I'm feeling friskier-which shouldn't be too long from now." But when the screen darkened and he rose to leave, she saw that he moved more slowly than before. "It is time you rested again, Bran. Do not try to do too much, yet."

  "All right. See you later, Hain." Several times, on the way to the cabin, she wanted to help him, but she knew better than to try.

  tregare's impatience grew, but not until the fourth morning, after the evening when they first again made love, did Rissa agree he was fit for real work. Scabs were beginning to flake off the lesser burns; only a few deeper ones stil needed cover-ing. He flexed the arm, wincing slightly but not able to extend it fuly.

  With the two men from the scout, they attacked the prob-lem of Peralta's stolen projector. Kenekke had cleared debris away; all four could get handholds on the surface-burned shell. With Tregare favoring his arm and Deverel his stiff leg, they rolled it onto an improvised skid and hauled it to the scout. There they rigged a winch to pul it up the ramp, swing and place it, half-protruding, in a supply hold emptied for the purpose. Deverel wound a length of cable around the nozzle to tie it down. Tregare said, "Time for a breather. You got any coffee?"

  "Fresh is better," said Kenekke. "Only take a minute or two." As he prepared it, the others sat. When the coffee was poured, Rissa said, "What is next, Bran? Do we go soon to Base Two? Or across the Hils for Ms. Gustafson's apparatus?"

  "Both-in that order. But not until tomorrow."

  "Good. If I inform her today, she wil have time to prepare. But today, what do we do?"

  "I thought we could clear away a litle more slag and see if the aircar might be worth fixing. Then-let's al take the rest of the day off. Though peace knows I've been loafing enough!"

  after a half hour's work, Tregare looked at the gutted aircar and shook his head. "At One Point One or the Lodge, even, I'd say we fix it. But here-no way to move it that wouldn't cost more than it's worth-wel, when somebody has time we can salvage motors and landing gear, maybe a little more. Meanwhile-Anse, you want to spray it for mothbaliing?"