Boozie went on. "She's been bawling, half-hysterical, maybe scared."
Danny glared tensely at the glittering transceiver in his hand. "Freddie? What happened? What made her come to you?"
"It seems Holy Sam advised her before he left. If she ran into something she couldn't handle, she was to come to see me, probably meaning you, by way of our private channel."
"Then put her on, for God's sake! Let me talk to her!"
"She's in no condition just now. I've hidden her here in one of the pad rooms. She's in one of the slings, trying to ride out some heavy emotional inertia. I gave her something to calm her down but your poor little gal still has the shakes."
"Jesus, Boozie, will you tell me what's going on!?"
"I'm trying to, baby. I'm trying to."
Then came Boozie's story of latest inside developments. Noley's suspicions concerning Alonso's shield seemed to fit the situation exactly. Of late, the Duke had been displaying strangely grandiose airs. He had even started using his full signature on various Council documents: Dr. Alonso Madrazo de Andragoya.
"He's flipped completely," Boozie commented. "Noley's right. This whole thing was probably coming on for years, but now that the Duke has made a feudal castle out of the temple and he has the other trimmings – slaves, plantations, an ecclesiastical arm with a puppet Pope – an ambitious militia captain, meaning our friend the Pike, it's really gone to his head. He has visions of empire. Maybe too many history books, the 'traditional precedent' and all that."
"What's the Skipper been doing? Is he putting up with all that crap?"
"I think he sneers at it, sort of like letting Alonso have his toys. The whole system helps him run things by the book. Lyshenko is blind to the fringe developments as long as he thinks the aims of the star mission are being ... supported. The mines and processing plants are going, the nuclear cores are slowly taking shape, and the mini-industry here could maybe produce an S-link someday. Meanwhile, guns for Golaks are also by the book. To him it's a justified defense to buy him time."
"Where does Tallullah stand in all this?"
"I think in fantasyland, but that brings us back to Freddie."
Tallullah had coyly confessed to Freddie that she was contemplating marriage to the Duke, "a refined and capable Christian gentleman," someone to trust and to relieve her inner loneliness, especially if the colony were doomed to remain here forever. Freddie had begun to be protective of her then, deeply sympathetic but also worried in a professional sense. Was love really involved, or a self-deception whereby Tallullah herself could avoid the phobies or some kind of psycho-phasing? Her worry had taken a new turn, however, when Tallullah had shown secret concern for Freddie's future. She had finally urged her to consider her role as a woman in the colony. Marriage was the only rational answer, she had advised. Then had come the shocker: Somebody had asked Tallullah to open the subject to Freddie. The prospective suitor was Adolf the Pike.
"The son of a bitch!" fumed Danny. "When did all this happen?"
"Just after you rescued Sam and the Lily. It seems the Big M can't stop playing the mother hen. The swami's escape and Lalille's commitment to the insurgency must have jolted her into a decision. Maybe for her own sense of security she had to figure out the kind of world that she and Freddie could survive in."
"Survive hell, it's a nightmare! Is that when Freddie came to you?"
"Well, she's made two visits today. The first time she came, she pretended she just wanted to use me for a sounding board. She seemed so hopeless and lost that I decided to play her my cosmo-tape. When she heard it and knew that the stars were alive with other intelligences, a change came over her as if she were coming out of a trance. Suddenly she was all business. She showed me what she had really come for. She had brought some monitor tapes she'd been keeping personally. It seems she's had second thoughts about your Forum hearing in the light of all these developments. I ran the tapes through the delayed playback, and she saw the evidence herself, straight out hypno-strobing. Well, she ran with that to the Duke."
"Jesus, not the Duke!"
"We didn't have your input concerning the shield just then. I couldn't stop her."
"My God, what's happened since?"
"Plenty, but not out in the open."
Then came the final part of the story. The great Don Alonso de Andragoya had received Freddie and her findings with an outward semblance of noble calm and reassurance. He was the same old imperturbable Duke, a man of considered reason. He told her that the existence or nonexistence of a secessionist plot in the past was now immaterial, that she must look at present realities. He had rather unctuously patted her hands and advised her to think in terms of permanency here on Terra Nova. If one day they should all return to Earth, well and good, but if that should never happen, and in any case it was still many years away, her surest course was to settle down and become a colony wife.
When she had argued with him, although by then she was confused and uncertain again, he had smiled benignly and told her that perhaps the time had come to reveal a great secret to her. He took her to a wall panel and opened it excitedly. Apparently the ancient temple had more hidden chambers than had been suspected during the original explorations. He led her with a seeming possessiveness into rooms that were suitable for a grand private suite, and more rooms and passages continued somewhere beyond them. These rooms, he said, were to become the royal chambers.
"What he meant," said Boozie, "was the spider's parlor."
"What do you mean?" insisted Danny heatedly.
"The Duke's a madman. He told her he could offer her a whole new world and everything her little heart could desire, that he was preparing to establish a monarchy, and that he was to become King Alonso the First. Among the accoutrements of a royal court, of course, would be the monarch's most favored concubine."
"Very traditional," said the Monk sarcastically over Danny's shoulder.
"What the hell, Boozie!" yelled Danny. "Are you trying to tell me–"
"Right on, baby. His Highness made a pass! Freddie fought him off and got away. That's why she was out of her head when she came here less than an hour ago."
Danny stared at Noley who met his gaze with dark conviction. He turned back to the transceiver, trying to control his voice. "Hey Boozie, it's all coming apart over there. Let me talk to her."
"Maybe you're in no condition to use your head just now."
"Do what I say, damn it and listen to what I tell her! There's no time to dick around, buddy! You're both in danger!"
"We're all in danger. Forget your mastermind. Alonso's flipped. I didn't tell you what else was said. The scuffle in the snake pad was a big one and the Duke started yelling at her after he got his face scratched up. He began to make threats, telling her that there was no escape for the colony, that he would be the ruler of them all. He must have been quoting Hernando Cortez because he swore the ship would be burned behind us. We'd have nowhere to go except forward with the Monarchy, which was to be a foundation for the glorious Andragoya dynasty."
Just then, Freddie must have joined Boozie. Danny heard her voice. It sounded shaky and slightly brittle, probably because she was struggling to be brave and clinical. "I'm here, Danny. If there's anything you can contribute, now is the time."
He hesitated, wanting to comfort and reassure her yet aware of her mask. It was still there in her voice, if slightly awry. "All right, you two. I'll tell you the only route you've got!" Perhaps there was too much authority in his voice.
"You're a wanted fugitive, Captain," she retorted quickly. "Are you to be the judge now?"
"Neither I nor yourself, baby, so get out from behind that god-damn screen and listen! You're both in danger. If Alonso knows about the cosmoscope, that makes Boozie a target like Torky and the others."
"She doesn't know about the shield yet," said Noley, close enough to the transceiver to be heard at the other end.
"Boozie, you tell her that! It's further evidence you need. Freddie, yo
u have to go to Lyshenko."
"To your butcher friend? Why should I!"
"Because he's not what you thought he was, damn it! You should know that, after fighting off Alonso the First! You go to him now. Place yourself in his protective custody. You and Boozie give him all the evidence you've got, including the new input about the shield. Then tell the Skipper I want to talk to him."
There was a silence.
"Well, did you hear me?"
"She's gone over to sit down," answered Boozie. "Give her time."
"There isn't any! I don't give a damn what or who she thinks I am. This involves all of us!"
"You've got her wrong, Danny. As for what she thinks of you, when I played her the cosmotape I knew what she was thinking. There's new hope out there in the stars. She was thinking of you. She doesn't want you to make the hiber trip."
"This is no time for going into that. Will you take her and go to the Skipper, right now?" When Boozie agreed, Danny had one more question. "Incidentally, about those monitor tapes she brought you. Who's were they?"
"Yours, baby, every trip you ever made to the Pit."
* * * *
Within three hours, Danny's transceiver buzzed again insistently. Boozie had made the call as usual but this time it was not in secret. It came from the staff room, and the next voice heard on the mini-speaker was that of Alex Lyshenko.
Now came Law. Now came World Council Authority. The Skipper was still the gyrostabilizer, the main voice in the wilderness that spoke with firm direction and decision. At least he had finally examined the evidence and had uncovered more. Ever since the Forum hearing on Danny's charges, he and certain others had done some secret probing. The main discovery was that the ship's log had been rigged all along, carefully precoded by Philo Bates so that any computer analysis would come out in favor of the secessionists. When Philo had bolted in panic and run to the unknown mastermind, he had been promptly eliminated. Items of this nature had caused Lyshenko to start groping for a new strategy. Then the evidence brought in by Boozie and Freddie had made his course clear.
"The laws and regulations under which I am commissioned still cover the present situation," Lyshenko concluded emphatically. "Therefore, my action will be as follows, so listen carefully, Captain."
The way he said Captain was an unexpected boost to Danny's morale. The tone seemed to infer that the Skipper now understood his motives and still regarded him as an officer of Flight Command. But all was not roses yet. The Skipper's idea of action was earthshaking, largely because it was coldly logical. The bold plan struck straight at the core of the total abstractions and emotionalisms.
The message landed like a bombshell in the middle of Ravano's court. Danny had met with the insurgents concerning Alonso's shield and the alarming conversation with Boozie and Freddie. Sam and Noley had strongly advised sharing the information with Ravano. To them it was an encouraging sign that the "Interventions" were already at work. They insisted that such things presaged the advent of an Oracle. Bjornson and others, however, were of another opinion. They favored telling Ravano but only because it was necessary to put some real pressure on the king.
"Let him know he's facing a madman," argued the Axe. "Alonso might not wait for a war. He could start one of his own!"
This had been imparted to Ravano at a bad time. The holy rites of na-thitasu had entered a new phase in the temple. A period of fasting had been declared. All Talavats were beginning to concentrate on religious instructions from the Krias. The call was out for the Oracle and the caves and nearby jungle camps echoed the undulating high-voiced mantra chants of the devotees.
Ravano sat alone on his bench between the torch poles, except for his elite guard. Akala had joined Khyatri in the temple, and the Monk had soon followed her. The king now stared sullenly at Danny's transceiver as he quietly translated for him.
Lyshenko was going to bring full charges against Alonso and his unknown accomplices, not in Forum but in an open Colonial Assembly. Prior to this, however, he intended to be prepared with a pragmatic program for the Council's consideration. To do that he needed backup. For that purpose a truce meeting would be necessary. The bombshell was that he and some Council members were coming to confer with Ravano. Danny was to give him the location of the hidden headquarters since Boozie had said that kind of information wasn't his to divulge.
"We'll come in an air car tomorrow at noon," said the Skipper. "This is a truce flight, Danny. I'll expect You and King Ravano to guarantee safe passage."
When Ravano had this part translated to him he frowned. "Ask the Dragon Chieftain this," he said in a voice husky with inner tensions. "How can there be a jihva-na-ksatu between us?" The native expression, "bond of blood," was the only equivalent for guarantee. When this was translated back to Lyshenko the speaker crackled emptily for several moments. Then the Skipper demonstrated more insight than he had been given credit for.
"Tell his Highness that only one thing is stronger than blood. It is the word of chieftains. You translate it any way you want, just so it boils down to one thing. The two of us are making a swap, his word for mine."
The appropriate translation was made. Ravano was apparently impressed but he was too shrewd to let it appeal to his ego.
"The Dragon Chieftain has the word of Ravano," he answered finally. "I know not how this High Talk can serve our divided causes, but I will listen. Let him come, but let him be prepared to speak with few words. The time of na-thitasu is upon us."
When this was taken care of and the camp location was given, Danny had a final question. "Sir, I suggest you're taking a chance coming out here. How do you know your back will be covered?"
"Quite simply, Captain," returned the Skipper briskly. "Alonso is in custody pending the Assembly hearing."
"And Pike?"
"The major will do precisely what the Council orders him to do. By crisis provisions, I am now completely in charge. That is all, Captain."
When the transceiver turned off, Henshaw expressed his doubts. "I still think he's flipped. He's sticking his neck out a mile. Who the hell is the Council now, old Pointed Head and his hardhead secessionists?"
This was the general consensus of all insurgents present.
Danny was torn between agreeing with them and hoping in wild desperation for one of Sam's predicted interventions.
CHAPTER XV
At dawn the forested slopes north of the red-ridge country were pervaded by the mournful, far-echoing undulations of the maita-bhavas. These were the sky voices of the signaling horns which were made of hollowed bone and perforated for producing musical notes on a pentatonic scale. Ravano's word was being disseminated. The Dragon Chieftain was coming with other Star Sons. This was High Talk time. There was to be no resistance.
"Well, here goes all or nothing," Boozie said later that morning over the transceiver channel. "Sometimes I think the Skipper sticks so close to his book that he sees the forest but not the trees, especially what's in the underbrush. If you boys have any clout with Ravano you'll have to carry the ball. Maybe this powwow can do something or things might get worse. How do you feel about it?"
"Either lost in the woods or out on a limb." Danny's succinct answer was not intended to be facetious. It was an expression of his position at the moment.
"In which case, back to the drawing board." Boozie told him that he and Fitz and Bruno were quietly working on plans for the hiber trip, just in case. The recent production of nuclear cores for the propulsion pile were slowly being installed in orbit.
"Seems to me they're slow as hell about those cores, considering the progress they've made. It still looks like a political sop, to keep peace until the mastermind takes over. The cores we've got now fill about thirty percent of the safety factor set by the Homer Committee, based on finally having an S-link and taking everybody along. At the rate they're going, even with an S-link breakthrough, we could be here for years yet. But for a suicide try under hiber conditions for six of us, it gives us a trip range
of over a year, that is, with additional core transfer from the life-pod pile, after we're under way. Who knows?"
Meanwhile, some other work had also been going on "upstairs," meaning out on the orbiting pod frames. They were preparing the pulsor unit for Boozie's gravity-modulation experiment. The frail Belgian genius was still hoping to make an interstellar broadcast with his cosmoscope.
"In fact," he concluded, "it's more or less legal now, though still under wraps. The Skipper and Pointed Head know what I'm doing. They even said I should speed it up. Not the hiber part, of course. That's still in our blood pact department. But they see that an Earth contact or any contact might change the local situation."
"Poyntner?" This came as a jolt to Danny and his men. "You mean he knows about the cosmoscope?"
"Hell, he's suddenly backed the Skipper full tilt since Don Alonso went crackers. In fact, he'll be with the delectation today."
"You'd better keep plan two on the burner."
"That's sort of the way we see it here. Anyway, blessings, my son."
"How is Freddie? Is she protected?"
"About as well as she can be, I'd say. She's still the Council's secretary, so you'll see her, too."
Danny tensed. "You mean she's coming here with Lyshenko and Poyntner?"
"That's right, buddy, but I think running the Skipper's transcorder is the last thing on her mind. Since the Alonso bit, and after hearing the cosmo-tape, your little white-smock gal has had a case of the dangling hang-ups. Terrifically lost, but searching with her eyes wide open."
* * * *
Below the main caves a red-rock slope reached down to the jungle. Its angle and curvature provided the natural contours of a semi-amphitheater, and as such it had been used by a people long since vanished with the Lahas. Although crumbled with age and broken by seismic upheavals, the ancient tiers cut in the rock were discernible. There was still the semblance of a clearing below where the arena had been. Native legends spoke of a time when men had struggled here barehanded with ubyahans, which were creatures similar to a Pliocene type of bison. Far from being a sport dedicated to sadism, however, it was alleged to have been a religious rite, as had been explained by Sam in the main temple of Terra Nova. In fact, some such ritual still prevailed, and the ruling caste of warriors like Ravano and his lieutenants bore the scars of such encounters. Physical though these dangerous battles were, the Krias argued that the rite was symbolic in its nature, representing the conquest of the animal soul by the spirit.
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