The Mystery of Ireta

by Anne McCaffrey

  “Vrl,” he supplied coldly.

  “That Vrl’s probably still alive. I doubt he cares.”

  “Ryxi have a long life span on low-gravity planets,” Varian said, “but it’s a chance we’ve got to risk. It’s worth far more in terms of the supplies we must have to achieve our original objectives.” She turned to Lunzie. “Tomorrow, Rianav and the helmsman from Cruiser 218-ZD-43 will make a second run to the plateau,” and she inclined her head significantly. “We’ll jam their beacon and then get a message off to the Ryxi.”

  “If a freighter is in,” Kai added, “give them a course that’ll fly past the mutineers’ camp. That’ll make them think twice about calling in their colony ship.”

  “Will there be someone to take me out tomorrow?” Trizein asked plaintively.

  “I will,” Triv replied.

  “Then we can get on with surveying?” Margit asked hopefully.

  “You’d better!” Kai said.

  “I could stay in as coordinator, Kai,” Lunzie said.

  “Appreciated, Lunzie, but I’ve got to compose a message for the Ryxi . . .”

  Varian’s unrepentant grin, reminding him of previous occasions when he’d been left to communicate with the Ryxi, lifted Kai’s spirits.

  It was very early in the morning when Rianav roused her helmsman for an early start on their mission. A hastily prepared stew was simmering in the hearthpot when the medic awoke. Although Rianav knew that nothing could have penetrated the force-screen that surrounded the dome, it made her uneasy that no watch had been kept on what was, after all, a hostile planet. Still, the medic could close the screen after they had left. Which she did, with a silent wave of good luck as they departed in the two-man sled.

  The gloom of cloudy night surrounded them, and Rianav was glad they had flown the course before and had some knowledge of the terrain. She kept the sled at a respectable altitude. The telltagger’s infrequent spouting was the only noise to break the silence as they sped northeast.

  They were an hour into their journey when the telltagger rattled hysterically.

  “Krims! What was that?” Portegin demanded. “Something awful big, Lieutenant!”

  “There’s nothing airborne that is that big on this planet . . .”

  “I hope!”

  “Heat register’s too high, anyhow.” Rianav hauled the sled to starboard, her quick action preventing a collision. A massive object streaked across their previous line of flight. They could follow the bright yellow-white exhausts as the vessel flashed by on their portside.

  “What under the seven suns was that?” Portegin asked, craning his neck to follow its course.

  “A medium-light space vessel to judge by the propulsion configuration.”

  “From the heavies’ camp?” Portegin’s voice ran with understandable concern.

  “I doubt it, helmsman. It came from due east, not northeast.”

  “Scouts?”

  “Not that large a ship.”

  “Unless that colonist transport also carries military craft . . .” Portegin added grimly.

  “Belay that, helmsman. We don’t need to borrow trouble. We have our orders.”

  “So we do, sir.” At the skepticism and near impudence in her subordinate’s tone, Rianav grinned to herself. “Ma’am, shouldn’t we inform base camp? And shouldn’t we inform our cruiser of this violation of Ireta’s air space?”

  “Not if it also informs that intruder of the whereabouts of our base camp, helmsman. The cruiser would have observed the entry. I see no point in breaking comsilence and informing a listener of our presence. Especially as we are heading toward the plateau.”

  “But, if the heavy-world transport is down, we don’t need to jam that beacon.”

  “First we get to the plateau, helmsman.” Rianav spoke firmly enough to repress further suggestions.

  The sullen Iretan dawn lightened the skies just as they reached the first of the falls below the plateau.

  “Lieutenant, isn’t that awfully bright for dawn?” asked Portegin, pointing slightly to starboard. A luminous bright yellow formed a curious circle under pendulous Iretan clouds.

  “Damn funny!” Rianav piled on power and took the little sled up at a steep angle to get maximum height while still in the shelter of the hills surrounding the plateau.

  Then several things happened at once.

  “This is rescue mission! Is anyone on that beacon?” demanded an impatient voice. After a moment of silence, the voice spoke to someone in the background. “No luck on this frequency, sir . . . Roger. All frequencies at max power.”

  The telltagger began to hum. Not chatter or squawk but the hum which experience told Rianav was a large airborne object slowly approaching them from a height.

  “A ship? Can you see it, Portegin?”

  “No. Shouldn’t I answer the rescue hail?”

  “Not if they’re homing in on this beacon. We say nothing. Oh Krims! and bollux!” Rianav swore fiercely and loudly, trying to deny what they saw.

  “We’ve had it!” Portegin’s resigned words came out in an awed whisper.

  They had risen above the screening terrain, the hills from which the iron ore had been mined to cushion the vast bulk of the transport ship which was settling to earth. The light seen by Rianav and Portegin was radiating from its underside and from arc lights surrounding the landing site.

  “That isn’t what’s making the telltagger talk,” protested Portegin and looked over his shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak when a bolt spewed from the maw of the transport.

  Rianav slowed the sled in a frantic effort to avoid the beam. That was all she remembered.

  “Kai? Kai, are you awake?”

  At the panicky tone in Dimenon’s voice, Kai sprang awkwardly toward the comunit.

  “I’m here.”

  “Kai, I’ll swear it. We got Thek here. Thek all around. Big ones, little ones, like they were taking turns!”

  “Where are you, Dim?”

  “We’re just over the pitchblende strike—”

  Dimenon’s words were cut off abruptly. Kai tried to reestablish contact. Not that Dimenon or Margit would be in any danger from the Thek, but he would prefer a little more detailed report. When he failed to raise the geologists, he switched to Lunzie.

  “Whereabouts are you, Lunzie?”

  “Nearly to the cave. Why?”

  “Dimenon just reported there are Thek on the first strike. Then he went silent.”

  “Thek? Kai, I think we’d better raise Varian and abort that mission. If Thek are here . . .”

  “THIS IS RESCUE MISSION. IS ANYONE ON THAT BEACON? THIS IS AN ALL-FREQUENCIES HAIL. WE ARE A RESCUE MISSION. WE ARE HOMING IN ON YOUR BEACON!”

  The interruption stunned Kai and Lunzie.

  “You are blasting our eardrums, rescue,” Lunzie said. “What is your origin?”

  “Ryxi.”

  “Maintain silence and home in on beacon.” Lunzie interrupted in a tone that inspired compliance. “I’ll get back to you, Base.” Kai knew to maintain his silence.

  Which beacon? he wanted to shout. And why were Thek appearing all over the landscape? Should he not attempt to warn Varian? Well, if the rescue ship was heading toward the heavy-worlders’ beacon, Varian would abort on her own initiative.

  His moment of panic subsided. The appearance of Thek meant that Tor had informed others. It was as likely that Tor had organized a rescue from Ryxi, and humans at that by the voice. Then Kai found another reason to be alarmed, since he seemed determined to be anxious: Tor would not know that Kai had roused other members of his team. Tor would know that the heavy-worlders were active on the planet. Surely a Thek could tell the difference between normal humans and heavy-worlders? Dimenon wouldn’t panic when faced with a Thek, even a horde of them. And Dimenon would know to ask for Tor, wouldn’t he?

  Two anxious hours Kai waited.

  “Kai, are you there?” Lunzie’s voice had a buoyancy which Kai had never heard in it before.


  “Yes, yes, I’m here! Where else?”

  “At ease,” Lunzie’s voice had a lilt of laughter for his sarcasm. “All’s well here at the cliff beacon. I’ll have to apologize to Varian. Those giffs of hers are far more intelligent than we suspected.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll swear they recognized the difference between my sled and the one Captain Godheir sent in. When I got here, the giffs were protecting the cave and our shuttle against any unauthorized intrusion . . .”

  “Who’s Godheir?”

  “The captain of the Ryxi supply vessel, the Mazer Star. And I apologize to you, too. Your Thek, Tor, left orders with the Ryxi planet to mount a rescue mission for you. But the Ryxi vessel was away on a supply trip so it took them until now to respond. The vessel’s medium-sized and had to land in the jungle. They sent in a sled and the giffs attacked it. They’re formidable in the air. I arrived as the battle was in full swing. But Kai, when I approached, the giffs escorted me to the cave. And the captain will swear to it.” Kai wasn’t sure why Lunzie should sound so triumphant over that point. “So I’ve asked Captain Godheir to send a sled to collect you, and some men to guard the dome. And if his diagnostic unit doesn’t have an answer, the cruiser’s will. Godheir’s trying to raise Dimenon but he’s also agreed to send out a search party if you’ll give me the coordinates.” Kai quickly gave her the figures. “And Kai, I lodged an official charge of mutiny with Captain Godheir. You’ll be asked to confirm.”

  Kai caught his breath because it was scarcely the function of a medical officer, even an Adept, to lodge such a complaint if either of the team’s leaders were alive.

  “You’ll want it on record, Kai,” and Lunzie’s voice was not the least apologetic for her usurpation of right, “because the colony ship’s down and a cruiser is guarding it.”

  “Varian and Portegin?”

  Lunzie’s voice altered again, devoid of emotion. “Their sled received a bolt from the transport, but the cruiser was able to grapple it in time to break the full force of a crash. They’re both alive and being conveyed to the cruiser. Just hang on there, Kai. We’ve got more help than we need.”

  “Any news on the ARCT-10?”

  “No, but Godheir wouldn’t necessarily know. The cruiser might. I’ll ask when they’ve secured the transport. Take it easy now, Kai. No fretting. I’ll see you soon.”

  Only then did Kai notice the blood running from his hands. He had been gripping the comunit so hard, he had lacerated his palms. He had no great hopes that either diagnostic unit could help him, but perhaps there’d be some skin-gloves and shin pads so he’d stop injuring himself. He thrust his hands into a basin of water, aware that he couldn’t even sense the temperature. He salved the cuts and bandaged them.

  So the colony ship had landed after all. Whether a cruiser was on its back or not now mattered little. Time had run out on their attempt to salvage something of this miscarried expedition. His first opportunity to prove his leadership ability had ended in disaster. Kai walked morosely around the relief map. With an air of finality, he picked up the discarded pods of hadrasaur nuts and placed the smallest one near the giffs’ cave, the next largest on the edge of the heavy-worlders’ plateau and the largest right in the midst of the grid. Then he sat, bandaged hands dangling between his legs while he waited for the rescue sled.

  9

  HANDS pulled urgently at Rianav, and she groaned. An ache encompassed her whole body.

  “Lemmalone.”

  “Not when I have no choice but to retrieve you,” a familiar voice said. Hands now reached under her armpits, lifting her strangely unresisting body out of the pilot’s seat. “You’re in one piece. Just relax, Lieutenant.”

  “Easy there, now,” another voice called, its tone of command undiminished by distance.

  “You’re lighter than I’d thought,” the familiar voice murmured.

  Rianav forced her eyes open and gasped. Blood seemed to be dripping from her face. The arms that lifted her were heavily corded. She started to struggle.

  “Don’t,” Aygar ordered impatiently. “I’m under surveillance, and I’ve no wish to be stunned again. You have nothing to fear from me. Or mine.” His tone was bitter, but as he eased her from the damaged cockpit, his hands did not abuse his advantage.

  “Cut the chatter,” the other voice ordered. The voice came from below her. She couldn’t make out her surroundings. “Just lift her out. Nice and easy. Medic!”

  “I’ll carry her down.” Aygar has lost none of his arrogance, she thought. She relaxed as she felt him descending a steep and uneven way.

  Despite blurred vision, partly due to the blood which streamed down her nose, Rianav looked about her as Aygar scrambled down a rocky incline. The sled had crumpled, nose first, into the side of a cliff and wedged in. Another sturdy young man was extracting Portegin’s limp body from his side of the wrecked vehicle. On a much wider shelf about fifteen meters below were a pinnace and a cluster of uniformed personnel, some with drawn stunners, watching the rescue operation. Blinking to clear her eyes, Rianav looked beyond, to the vast plateau now inhabited by the immense squat bulk of a colony transport ship and the long sleekly dangerous form of a medium deep-space cruiser. As Rianav made out the designation, 218-ZD-43 on the stern fins, she experienced an unreasonable spurt of pure panic and clutched at Aygar’s shoulders.

  “I told you. I won’t harm you. That bunch is just waiting for a chance to blast us out of existence.” Aygar’s bitterness was intense.

  “Your transport shot us down.”

  “You and your phony rescue mission. All the time your cruiser was tracking the transport!”

  Rianav flinched from his anger, aware of contradictory, nonsensical, and conflicting emotions. But the next moment Aygar had reached the ledge, and she was removed from his arms. She started to protest as she saw him pushed to one side by armed personnel. Then a medic was busy checking the pupils of her eyes and someone else applied an antiseptic pack to her bleeding forehead. She felt a spray go in one arm, a powerful restorative to judge by the flood of energy that surged through her body.

  “You’ll do,” the medic muttered and stepped back, signaling his assistant to help Rianav clean the worst of the blood from her skin. The Iretan flies were buzzing in a cloud, attracted by the smell of blood.

  “Lieutenant Rianav,” and she turned to look at the officer who now confronted her. His face was totally unfamiliar to her. Even medium-size cruisers were not so huge that officers could remain unknown to one another. His expression was compounded of many elements: anticipation, curiosity, and a tinge of awe. “Commander Sassinak is waiting for your personal report.”

  To gain a moment to collect herself, Rianav looked over to where Portegin was being examined. “Is he all right?”

  “He’ll have a worse headache than you will, Lieutenant,” the medic replied cheerfully then pointed to the long gash across Portegin’s forehead. “Only a flesh wound. Here, you, let’s get him out of this stinking air and away from those blood-sucking insects.”

  Aygar and his friend were summarily encouraged to lift Portegin and bring him into the pinnace.

  “We used those two local lads to reach you,” the officer was saying in an apologetic tone as he escorted Rianav to the pinnace. “They said,” and he gave a skeptical snort, “they were on their way to rescue you anyhow.” He dropped his voice to a confidential tone as they entered the little ship. “We haven’t had a planetfall in months and we might have botched the climb. Couldn’t let that happen. Sorry you landed so hard. We saw that transport zap you and the commander only managed to get a tractor beam on you long enough to cushion the fall—All secure back there?”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Rianav craned her head to see Portegin strapped into a seat, the medics on either side of him. Aygar and his companion were under the wary guard of four marines, two with drawn stunners.

  “Why are those men under guard, Lieutenant?” Rianav asked as she faste
ned her seat belt.

  “They’re mutineers. Your people filed a charge of mutiny, you know. First thing your commander told mine.”

  There was something wrong with that statement, but Rianav could not fathom what, beyond the obvious error that her commander and his must be the same.

  The young lieutenant leaned toward her, his voice low. “The other elements of your group have all reported in, Rianav. Don’t worry about anything.” He turned aside to order the helmsman to take the pinnace back to the ZD-43. Then he grinned complacently at Rianav. “The heavy-worlders’ transport never even knew we were on their tails. Sassinak’s a canny commander.”

  As the little pinnace took off, Rianav placed trembling fingers against her temples. That knock on her head had done more than visible damage for she was being afflicted with selective amnesia. She knew that there was to be a colony ship but not that her cruiser was chasing it. She knew she served on the ZD-43 but she couldn’t recognize any of the men on the pinnace, or conjure up the name of her commanding officer.

  “That transport was being trailed?” She’d been so sure that her cruiser was in orbit above the planet, had had no intention of landing, and that she was part of a rescue mission, answering a distress call.

  “Ever since the transport crossed into our patrol sector. Ships the size of that baby are leeched the moment the keel is laid. Part of the Federation’s long-term plan to stop planet piracy. So the moment the leech activated our sensors, we checked Registry and knew we’d a live one.” The lieutenant’s grin broadened. “The transport was built in Voroshinsky, sold to Dopli—the heavy-world planet in Signi Sector—and it was heading in a very suspicious direction, there being very few systems open for colonization out this side. So we pursued it with the leech keeping it on a leash for us.”

  Rianav felt a gentle bump as the pinnace landed. Briskly the young lieutenant unfastened his seat belt and rose, ordering the medics to take Portegin to the sick bay, the marines to remove the prisoners and secure them in the settlement. He was turning, with more courtesy in his manner, to Rianav when the comunit on the pinnace console burbled a summons.