by Thomas Stone
But by then Fagen was behind the giant insect, gripping the rear of its carapace, struggling to pull it from the grasp of the unseen predator. In fear, the warriors watched and kept their distance. Fagen shouted for help, but the so-called warriors kept their distance.
Fagen stood in the shallow water at the edge of the pool and pulled with all his strength. It wasn't enough. The beetle was torn from his grasp and disappeared beneath the surface. Fagen scrambled away.
Breathing hard, he watched the place where the beetle was dragged down. There was no indication anything had been there. Two down, more supplies missing.
Angrily, Fagen asked the warriors why they hadn't helped.
"It is only a beetle," one said.
"And what if it had been me?"
"Then you would be dead and the beetle would still be alive. At least we do not have to carry its load."
Indeed, the supplies the insect carried were missing as well. It had carried half a dozen of his scientific instruments, instruments required for measuring the output of the ghlowstone's energy. It was a tremendous loss and could very well result in scuttling the expedition.
The pool rippled again and Fagen spotted the carapace as it bobbed to the surface. Staying clear, he managed to fish it out. The empty shell was all that remained.
"Water dragon," commented one of the warriors. "Very nasty."
"Why didn't you warn me?"
"You didn't ask," came the reply.
"What are you here for?"
"To carry three copels of jewels back to..."
"Never mind," Fagen interrupted. The loss of the gear was disturbing enough without having to listen to the Malaaz' one-sided version of things.
There were still two beetles left. They avoided the water and went to their Malaaz handlers, looking for reassurance. As the warriors stroked the beetles' antennae and calmed them, Fagen took stock of what they carried.
Unknown to the Malaaz, there were two spare stunners, an old-fashioned projectile weapon, and ammunition among the remaining supplies. Insuring he carried everything he needed to complete the trip, Fagen removed the weapons and put them into his own pack as well as all the food packets he could stuff inside. Not surprisingly, the warriors didn't offer to carry more than they already lugged on their backs.
They had to cross the stream, but it was certain they wouldn't chance it anywhere near the pool. After marching half a klick downstream, they found a place that was narrow and shallow enough to cross. They made it to the opposite bank without incident and re-entered the jungle.
Chapter 16
Yoni liked the bridge. He could watch the lights from the instrument panels and see the men drive the ship, although at this point in their journey, there wasn't much steering involved. Presently, the Grunwald's computers controlled all functions. In the grip of the transwarp, there was little to do but wait until they popped out of the wormhole.
Burke hated the Bedoran's presence and didn't try very hard to conceal it.
"What if it decides to start pushing buttons? What then?"
Harry sat at his position. He didn't look at Burke as he spoke. "I told you, he's not going to do anything like that."
"All right. I just hope you know what you're doing."
"That sounds mighty close to insolence, Jim. You're the one who likes to play by the book. What would you call it?"
Burke pressed his lips together and didn't answer. As if on cue, Utme entered the bridge to relieve Serge. Burke's watch was over as well, much to Harry's relief. Serge and Burke exited together and Utme took her place at the navigator's console.
"This is my first watch as a navigator," admitted Utme.
"Are you nervous?"
"No, sir."
She said it with such certainty Harry had no doubt it was true.
"How's the boy doing?"
Harry looked at Yoni. He was watching the realtime systems readouts on the main monitor and didn't notice the attention.
"He's doing fine. Excited about going home."
"Pretty cold on Bedor."
"Yes. I saw the temperature fall to a hundred below when I was there."
"Curious."
"What's that?"
"Oh, I was thinking, it's curious that such a massive change in worldwide climate could come on so suddenly. I mean, from the reports and what I understand, ten years ago the Bedorans lived in relative comfort. Now, they're freezing to death. What do you think happened?"
Harry shrugged. There was no way to be absolutely sure.
"Could it be artificially induced?"
"Not by any technology mankind possesses."
"Extra-terrestrial?"
"There's been no sign of the True Ones since our first and last encounter. We know of no other race that even comes close to the required technology."
"And they bugged out after that first contact. I don't know. It seems obvious they were responsible for moving the Bedorans around. But why would they initiate devastating climatic changes?"
"I don't know. But then I could never make much sense out of anything they did."
Yoni grew bored with the systems displays and stared at Utme. After a while, he reached over and felt her skin. To Harry he said, "This one's skin is soft, like yours, but different color. This one is like the night."
Utme allowed Yoni to inspect her and asked Harry what the boy said.
"He commented on our racial differences."
"What does he think about it?"
"I don't know. Let me ask." Harry turned to Yoni and spoke in the Bedoran language, asking what he thought about the black woman's skin color.
Yoni chattered and whistled, tail punctuating his speech.
"What'd he say?"
"He said he understands how hard it is to be different. He also asked me what color your blood is."
"Why would he ask that?"
"Among the Bedorans, if your blood is any color other than red, you're an alien. A creature not to be trusted."
"You can tell him I bleed red."
Harry did so and Yoni was relieved to hear it. "He says he'd like to be your friend because you are big and strong."
Utme flashed a smile. "Tell him I'd be happy to be his friend."
When he received the news, Yoni waved his tail in satisfaction.
The crew began to congregate on the bridge an hour before time to exit the wormhole. To Burke's satisfaction, Yoni had grown tired long before and Harry took him back his cabin where the Bedoran boy promptly curled up on the bunk and went to sleep. In contrast, Jareem had slept practically the entire time the ship traveled through the wormhole, but now he was wide awake and full of energy. He spoke in Swahili to Utme, asking if she was having any problems with the white men.
Before she could answer, Harry spoke up. "Uh, Jareem, my Swahili is rusty, but I remember enough. Just what kind of problems did you have in mind?"
A wide grin spread over Jareem's face. "It was just a joke, Commander, that's all!"
Utme suppressed a smile and kept her eyes on the readouts.
Burke spoke up. "I'm sure O'Neill, like the rest of us, has had Corporation courses in racism and plurality. It's mandatory, you know."
"That's right, I have," admitted Jareem. "I'm just not used to being packed in with so many of you at once."
"I know how you feel," said Serge, "I'm Jewish. Imagine how that feels."
"All right, knock it off. We're set to leave the hole."
They watched the exterior monitor as the clock counted down. The screen showed the stars as multi-colored tracers that ran across the sky. It looked exactly like the simulations the crew had experienced during training. When the ship popped out, there was no jolt, no sudden loss of senses. They were simply there. In this case, at a point in space twenty thousand kilometers outside the Bedoran solar system.
The sun dominated the view and two of the three planets shone brightly. The third, Bedor-2, was on the other side of the sun.
Typically, as with a
crewload of juniors and first-timers, an unrestrained shout filled the bridge. It almost embarrassed Harry. If things went as he hoped, they hadn't seen anything yet.
"Lay in an orbital course for Bedor-3. Recorders on?"
"Yep. Orbital solution locked in and counting to ten, mark, nine, eight..."
Those not sitting moved to acceleration chairs and strapped in.
"Okay, here we go, people."
"six, five..."
Harry's heart rate edged up, triggering a response from somewhere that touched him at the very core of his being. A blinding light burst forth in front of his eyes and, for a moment, he wondered if Bedor had gone nova. But it was something that happened from the inside out. He could feel heat generating from his chest out to his limbs and up to the top of his head.
At the same time, he plainly heard Utme counting down. The others paid him no mind. They watched the monitors closely as they anticipated the sudden thrust of the impulse engines.
Harry wasn't sure if he hadn't suffered a stroke. He moved his fingers and toes. Utme's count was slowing. The digital readouts changed tortuously slow. As Harry watched, a five slowly disappeared and was replaced just as slowly by a four.
Impressions of everyone on the bridge came to mind. The conscious thoughts of five people now floated freely into Harry's mind. It was such a jumble it was hard to tell who was who.
He discovered that if he concentrated enough, he could shut out the cacophony and focus on one person at a time. If he wanted, he could feel Yoni's consciousness as well as that of Roberta, or Bobbie as Harry discovered she preferred to be called. He wondered how far he could reach and started to call to Kathleen. At the last second, he stopped himself from actually saying her name aloud. The loss of focus was momentary, but long enough to disturb his concentration. Thoughts from his crew tumbled in as Harry lost control. Someone was picturing what Bedor-3 looked like, someone else was concentrating on the clock, another was remembering Jeb Stuart spinning away into the darkness. Attached to that picture was a mixed, twisted emotion of both glee and triumph. The entire impression was replaced by Dr. Ferguson's memory of a conversation between herself and Jareem. That memory, in turn was replaced by others until, with great effort, Harry willed it all to stop.
"...three, two, one, ignition!" Utme shouted.
The Grunwald shook as the great rockets fired, shifting the Corporation spacecraft into a suitable orbital trajectory. Below, in the commander's cabin, Yoni clung to Roberta. In his mind's eye, Harry could see them. He projected farther, to the planet they approached, down onto its surface, across its icy plains to the slopes that held the remains of the Bedoran race. He searched out the valley and saw that something was wrong. Steam no longer rose from the lake. Now it was completely covered by ice and snow.
The engines stopped after ten seconds and Harry was once again back on the bridge of the Grunwald.
"Scan for ion trails and tachyon traces. Check our entry path, Utme. Let's start rolling with the geophysical data. I want to see if this place is any colder than it was before. I've got a bad feeling it is. Jareem, you're not doing anything. Get me some readings on the wormhole stability at this end."
"That's not common procedure," complained Burke. "Ordinarily, wormhole readings are taken at the end of the mission."
"So, we'll do it again on the way back out."
"Got initial temperature readings coming in now," the doctor reported. "Our target area reads..." she looked down a list of figures. "This can't be right."
"What is it?" Harry asked, already knowing what the answer would be, but still hoping he was wrong.
"This says two hundred below."
Nobody on the bridge said a word. There was nothing to say. Chances of anything surviving at that temperature were nil. The atomic furnace he'd left would burn indefinitely, but that would only allow the Bedorans to starve to death.
Again, without warning, the memory of Jeb Stuart's death crossed Harry's mind. This time, though, it was Harry playing it back for himself. Someone in the group had been happy about the death, and as Harry explored the possibilities, he became just as certain that the same person had somehow murdered Stuart. Who it was, Harry couldn't say for sure.
"Are we going to attempt a landing anyway, Commander?" asked Jareem.
"Yes, of course. We didn't come all this way for nothing. As long as there's still a chance..." His voice trailed away.
"It's going to take some time before I receive all the required data for the wormhole analysis," added Jareem.
"We've got time. Mr. Burke?"
"Yes?"
"What's our transit time to Bedor-3?"
"Fourteen hours."
"Fine." Harry unbuckled the straps that held him to his seat. "You've got the conn, Mr. Burke. I'll be in my quarters. Utme, I'd like you and Ms. Long to pre-flight the shuttle. When Jareem has concluded his analysis, he can join you. I'll tell Ms. Long to meet you in the hanger bay. Questions, anyone?"
Serge held up his hand. "What if, you know, we get down there and find that they're all... well, you know, what if they're..."
"The mission doesn't change, Serge. We're a survey team. If the Bedorans haven't survived, we still have plenty to do."
"Speaking of which," interjected Burke, "who's going down?"
"Utme, Roberta, Jareem, and myself. Yoni too."
"I'd like to go, if you don't mind."
"Negative, Mr. Burke. You'll remain aboard the Grunwald and continue to gather survey data."
Burke's eyes narrowed but he said nothing. Harry felt the man's gaze as he turned his back and left the bridge.
Chapter 17
The lander was a modified shuttle. The design was more fuel efficient, larger, and more comfortable than the earlier models, but Harry wasn't thinking about that. Instead, as Bobbie guided the shuttle over the ice-covered plains, Harry unsuccessfully tried to dredge up his newfound powers. He wanted to know if any of the tribe was still alive. The problem was he couldn't induce his sensory powers to appear. Maybe it was because Jareem kept talking to Utme, and Harry couldn't concentrate properly.
In Swahili, Jareem asked Utme if she'd like to accompany him to the Bahamas when they completed the trip.
Utme answered, "I don't know you that well. Besides, it might be better to pay attention to what's going on here and now."
"Now that's exactly what I mean. I'm here and the time is now. Whenever you're around, I don't want to waste a second."
"Okay, knock it off," Harry interrupted. "We're coming up on the mountain range. I want you all to keep a sharp eye for any movement below."
Jareem looked out the window. "Ain't nothing down there, Commander. Far as I can see, it looks like a white man's Christmas."
O'Neill was right. In every direction as far as they could see, a cold white blanket covered the ground, unbroken in its smoothness. There were no tracks, not even a boulder nor a long dead tree. The white rolled on over the plains like a sea caught in a still photograph until it slanted up into the foothills that preceded the mountains.
They flew up the slopes looking for the river that led to the Bedoran stronghold. Although they never spotted the river, Harry finally recognized the area where the lake should have been. As he had imagined, it too was totally frozen and covered with a thick coat of snow. Harry directed Bobbie to a spot that was as close to the cave as they could get.
With the heat from the engines melting the snow beneath, the shuttle touched ground with a jolt. Harry unbuckled his restraints and directed Utme to accompany him while the others waited inside.
Yoni grasped Harry by the arm. "I want to go."
"We've got to make a passage through the ice. It looks like the entrance to the cavern is covered."
"I'll help," Yoni said hopefully.
"Not this time," said Harry as he pulled on his thermal suit.
"Why not?"
Harry sighed and looked at the boy. "It's colder than it was before. Much colder. You have to wait he
re until we know..." Harry's voice trailed off.
"Know what? I'm on Bedor. I'm home."
"I understand, little Arai. You're anxious to see everybody, but you're going to have to wait a little longer."
"How long?"
"Just enough for Utme and me to check things out."
The boy finally understood he wasn't going to be permitted to leave the shuttle and he fell into a sulking silence. When Utme and Harry were prepared, they carried their equipment to the airlock. Yoni watched sullenly from a window as the two left.
Fortunately, the air was clear. Still, the fierceness of the cold hit Harry like a slap on the face. He shot a look at Utme. Stoically, she gritted her teeth and continued forward without complaint. They weren't far from the cave and soon they stood at the base of the frozen cliff. As expected, the entrance was covered with ice and snow.
Harry removed the pieces of a tripod from his pack and fitted them together. Because of its weight, the portable laser had to be hauled on a sled. Utme unloaded the instrument and, with Harry's help, placed it atop the tripod. After a few adjustments, Harry switched on the device and guided the cut manually as the beam sizzled through the ice. In minutes, he created a hole large enough to walk through.
Utme took the first step inside. She called to Harry, telling him it was safe to enter.
A foul smell was the first thing he noticed. It was an odor he'd smelled before and always hoped he'd never smell again. It was the odor of rotting flesh.
Once inside the tunnel, it was comfortable, even warm. Apparently, Harry thought grimly to himself, the furnace was still functioning normally. Utme took the lead and kept her light pointed at the ground until they entered the central chamber. As before, there was enough light coming from the minerals in the walls and ceiling to illuminate the entire cavern.