Power Play

by Anne McCaffrey

  Marmion and Bunny gasped; Namid looked confused.

  “I think your . . . erstwhile colleagues, Marmion, have made a bad tactical error in suggesting”—Yana paused significantly as she stressed the word—“that Petaybee has untold riches which it has refused to divulge to Intergal. In fact, Namid, an Earth-type planet of its girth and density has only minimal mineral resources which would prove—”

  “Have proved,” Bunny said in a flat, angry voice.

  “—impossible to produce due to the intemperate weather conditions on the planet’s surface. It does have—and on this basis, we may yet be able to come to some arrangement with one, and one only, drug company—renewable valuable plants. But such an enterprise would not be a snatch-and-strip process: rather one that will accrue profit slowly and only when the planet has paid back to Intergal the expenses the company has already incurred in the terraforming and maintenance. What Petaybee has is intangible wealth, not readily salable valuables.”

  “And the planet is . . . somehow . . . controlling its future?” Namid asked, still struggling to believe the initial concept.

  “The planet controls its surface rather well,” Marmion said with a wide grin. “It counteracts the use of explosives by making volcanoes just where miners wish to dig. It rescinds the use of a flat surface for spacecraft by extruding a ziggurat that covers the exact center of the landing field and unsettles all the peripheral buildings. It either melts prematurely or conjures up diabolical weather patterns to preserve what resources it has. A formidable opponent, and a desirable friend.”

  “I’ve lived there all my life,” Bunny added, “and life is good on Petaybee.”

  “But not to everyone’s taste,” Yana added drolly. “Still, the air’s pure and unpolluted, and the soil is rich enough to produce food crops in their season—and marvelous herbs and plants which are made into the most efficacious potions and syrups. And while it’s a hard life, it’s a good one, if you accept the planet on its terms and it’s willing to accept you on the same grounds.”

  “The only planet in the galaxy to require an entrance exam from inhabitants,” Marmion said, giggling as much at the expression of total disbelief on Namid’s long face as her choice of expression.

  Diego began to groan and twist on the narrow bunk, and Bunny instantly was all attention.

  13

  Kilcoole

  Sean found that he literally couldn’t stand to live in his own skin, he was so distraught about the kidnapping. “Una, I have to get out,” he said. “If there’s any news, any change at all, send Marduk for me. He’ll be able to find me. I’m going to the river.”

  “Send Mar—Sean! What if there’s another ransom . . .” Her voice trailed behind him.

  He knew she was right. He should stick around the office in case there were new developments; in case Yana or Marmion’s people made contact again. But the last week or two had been just the sort of thing that wore him down until this final shock made his head reel. He was used to working outdoors, working with animals, swimming the long watery corridors of the planet and drawing strength and calm from the water. All these papers and offworld people . . . trying to figure out what was fair, what was right, where they fit in, where to be liberal and responsive to their needs and where to draw the line. He had every confidence in himself that he was a good man. He just wasn’t that particular kind of a good man. And now, with the possibility that Yana might not return, that what he did or said, or what he could or could not do, would mean life or death to her, to Bunny and Diego, to Marmion, who had been so kind, to the future he and Yana had looked forward to—he had to get away, had to think, had to let the water flow over him. He felt as if his alter-form was a whale or a dolphin rather than a seal; that, like them, he would itch himself right out of his skin if he didn’t get it wet and changed soon.

  He barely managed to reach the cover of the woods before shucking off his clothing and diving into the river waters. The rippling, bubbling, soothing, slithery soaking poured over his head as he changed utterly, man into seal, twenty feet down in the deeps of the river.

  Usually he made his changes at the hot spring or farther from home, because his transformation had been a secret from all but his closest friends and family in the past. But a few times he had needed to swim this river and had done so. Eventually, like all rivers, it dumped into the sea. And like most Petaybean rivers, it received transfusions from various hot springs along its route, making it warm. He swam furiously out toward the sea, and then furiously back again, because he didn’t want to be too far in case Yana needed him. But the mere sight of land made him feel wild with grief and anxiety and he dove, deeper and deeper.

  The reasonable man in him told his seal self to be careful, not to go too far, not to become injured or trapped, because then he wouldn’t be able to help Yana if needed, but his seal self swam recklessly and restlessly—and began noticing things about the riverbanks and riverbed it hadn’t noticed before.

  Petaybee’s recent seismic activity had changed the channel of the river slightly and had changed the feeder springs: several underwater grottos now opened under the banks, and as Sean dove, he saw that they tunneled deeply under the riverbanks. He swam into one of them, taking its twists and turns until he found he was no longer swimming, but pulling himself out of a wellspring and up onto the floor of another of Petaybee’s subterranean corridors. Once on land again, he resumed his man shape, the river water streaming from his skin.

  The swim had not helped as much as he hoped. Now to his other anxieties was added the fact that he longed to stay here, safe from intrusion, safe from having to decide everything for everyone, and yet, he had to leave soon in case he was needed. Even Marduk couldn’t find him here.

  But he needed to be here, within the planet, at one with it. It had always been his greatest inspiration and his greatest comfort—when his parents died, when his sister Aoifa was lost, and when, at first, he wondered if Yana would accept him.

  “What am I going to do?” he asked the cave walls. “I suppose people have always had to ask that at some point or the other. Do I betray my home by letting others take it from me? Or do I betray my family by endangering them? I can’t find it in me to do either, even if I knew how. What are we going to do?” He tasted salt in the water running from his hair and knew that it wasn’t river water, even as it flowed back into the stream. “I need help.”

  “Help!” the echo screamed back at him. “Help!”

  It sounded like another person entirely, not an echo of himself—the echo at the wedding had used the same tonality. In spite of his pain, he sat up straighter and looked and listened. Then he said aloud, “That’s right. We need help. Yana’s been taken by more people who want to tear you to pieces. Yana needs help.”

  “Help Yana! Help Yana! HELP YANA! YANA! YANA!!”

  Her name echoed around the cave until Sean was about to jump into the water to escape it. Then suddenly the echo changed again.

  “Help! Help us!” And suddenly the slight phosphorescence that was always in these caverns organized itself into a straight line and grew and grew.

  For a moment, Sean just stared. The purposeful echo, the purposeful line of the phosphorescence—neither of these had ever been manifested by Petaybee before. But after all, Petaybee was a young planet, still discovering its own abilities, and it had recently been exposed to new stimuli. Its responses were becoming more and more interesting.

  He followed the phosphorescent track, trying to keep up with it, until he was back in the river and found himself in the midst of a vast school of fish—every kind of fish—all swimming with purpose and determination in a single direction.

  Aboard the pirate ship

  Yana was awakened out of a deep sleep by the sensation of warmth and vibration at the base of her throat. It seemed to emanate from the little bag of dirt around her neck as if it held some tiny animal instead of merely dirt. She clutched it, comforted, and as she did so a picture sprang into he
r mind of Sean, calling for her, so that her own name rang in her mind, as clearly as if someone in the same room were speaking to her. The voice sounded so anguished she wished she could offer some comfort, but before she could form any sort of reply, she felt the tickle that prefaced a coughing fit.

  She clutched harder at her talisman, as Petaybee and Sean continued calling her, a voice in her mind crying her name. The cats talked to other cats and Clodagh, the dogs to their humans, and everyone talked to the planet. Why shouldn’t the mighty voice of a planet be able to call across the cosmos if it set its mind to it? Interesting thought, one that tumbled around and around as the image of Sean and the tickle evaporated, and the voice faded.

  She lay awake for a long time, fondling the bag, wondering if she had just dreamed the warmth and the powerful mind-echo. Because it was tremendously reassuring to think, even for a moment, that Petaybee was somehow on her psychic wavelength, she wanted it to be true. In the past when she had dreamed someone was calling her name, they often had been, and it was the captain or the drill sergeant or the corps commander. This time she was alone in the bowels of wherever they were, and the only sounds were the sleeping restlessness of her fellow prisoners.

  Then they were all abruptly aroused as the door of their prison burst open to be filled at once with a brawny crewman, the ever-ominous Megenda, and Dinah O’Neill, who seemed to be using all of the strength in her petite frame to restrain Megenda. Megenda clanged something hard against the metal of the doorframe: a laser pistol. “Get off your butts, you lazy lot of worthless harlots.”

  Part of Yana thought, Uh-huh, I was right. He does fancy himself as an old-style pirate. Who used the word “harlot” anymore, really?

  But he looked very fierce indeed, and Dinah O’Neill appeared to be all that stood between them and his wrath. When the other sleepers woke, looking about them in dismay and disorientation, he planted fists on the ammo belt slung around his hips and glared at them.

  “Megenda, stop! Not yet! We have to give them a chance!” Dinah O’Neill cried, tugging at him.

  “Quiet, woman. I say we start sending them home in pieces now.”

  Yana cocked an eyebrow at Dinah, as if Megenda needed an interpreter. “What’s he on about?”

  “Please, please don’t antagonize him any more. The captain reprimanded him, and Megenda’s extremely sensitive. And it was so unfair. Calm down, Megenda! Everyone knows it isn’t your fault. It isn’t anybody’s fault but those callous and uncaring people in your company, Madame Algemeine, and on your planet, Colonel Maddock. I admit, I’m as surprised as anyone. I thought with all of Madame Algemeine’s credits and you newly wedded to your planet’s coadministrator, Colonel, that surely everyone would have been tripping over themselves to pay the ransom. I even sent a little follow-up note, just as a reminder. But so far, we haven’t even had the courtesy of a reply, much less a payment. The captain is so annoyed that there’s no living on the same ship with him. Down, Megenda!”

  “I didn’t know,” Yana heard herself remarking, “that his species was capable of annoyance.”

  Megenda swung on her, his eyes glinting malevolently, and Dinah O’Neill gave a small squeak as she was dragged forward on his massive arm.

  “Colonel Maddock, please. This is no laughing matter,” Dinah cried.

  “I know it isn’t,” Yana said quite soberly. “But when the good captain asked me to request the planet for my ransom, he couldn’t know that I have absolutely no control over the planet . . .”

  “Now, now, you’re being much too modest. We’ve been told that if you really want to, if you’re really motivated, you and your new groom have the power to assign its mineral and ore deposits—”

  “I can’t assign anything for an entity I don’t own, possess, dominate, order,” Yana snapped back. “Nobody even knows what there is to assign.”

  Megenda made a move toward her.

  “Megenda, just let me talk to these people, please,” Dinah O’Neill said. “They’re reasonable, and they don’t want to be hurt. I know it’s been months since you’ve seen real action, but please be patient.”

  Megenda glowered and loomed.

  Dinah O’Neill continued. “I hope you aren’t making the mistake of underestimating our organization, Colonel. We have had agents on your planet before, and we know very well that there are deposits of valuable ores available. We also have a good idea how you could obtain them. Nothing makes Megenda more cross than having someone lie to him.”

  Yana shook her head carefully, keeping the cough at bay. Now was not a good time to be rendered inarticulate. “If you mean Satok and those other sham shamans, they never were able to mine enough ore to make it lucrative enough to buy their way off the planet, much less provide booty of the magnitude that would really interest Louchard. Of course, I don’t think they had the time, or the opportunity”—Yana was very sure of that, since the demise of the fake shamans had been precipitously effected by the coo-berries—“since the planet evolved some unusual natural defenses to their mining methods. Sounds to me like your captain is just trying to recoup a bad investment since he’s lost their services as illegal miners. Even the company had to see that it s no use trying to mine Petaybee for something it s not willing to give up.”

  “Let go of me, woman,” Megenda said trying to shake off Dinah’s tiny beringed hand. “She’s useless Might as well make her walk the plank”

  “We don’t have planks anymore, Megenda.”

  “Yah, but space is a lot bigger than any puny puddle. We could put her in a suit so she’d have hours to float around and think about what she could have done to make the cap’n happy.”

  Yana’s arguments had obviously gone over Megenda’s head, but his attitude only reinforced her feeling that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand the nature of the entity he was dealing with. If even the company, which had developed Petaybee, had been unable to grasp the situation without a great deal of persuasion, Louchard was no doubt as confused as everyone else on what could or could not be extorted from a whole sentient planet.

  “Belay that, Megenda,” Dinah said with a little slap that didn’t seem to affect the large muscle of Megenda’s forearm at all. “You and the colonel are both being irrational.”

  “Irrational?” Yana began hotly. “Lady, I’m not sure if I’m going to live through this. I’m not sure if any of us are. I’m sick. And I hesitate to mention this in the presence of your ‘sensitive’ first mate for fear of giving him sadistic ideas, but I’m also pregnant. Everyone on Petaybee was worried about letting me go on this mission to begin with because my kid, like these kids, is bonded with the planet. It needs, through me, the same things we’re all lacking here: fresh air, real food, not the plascene cubes you have here. I’d’ve thought a pirate of Louchard’s caliber and resourcefulness would have a replicator that can produce proper food instead of all that pulverized dust!” Yana was well and truly fed up. There was no way she could do anything, and the sooner Louchard realized that, the better. Maybe not the better for her, but any resolution was more acceptable than this confinement. “I want proper meals, I want exercise facilities, I want—”

  “Will you listen to the lady officer and her list of demands,” sneered Megenda, his expression vicious as he took another step into the room and drew one hand back, ready to pound it into Yana’s midsection.

  Yana did not so much as bat an eye as she shifted to the side to take the blow with her braced forearms, at the same time balancing herself—somewhat wobbily—to deliver a karate kick. She was not about to let him kill her baby without a fight.

  Neither was Marmion, who stepped determinedly between Yana and Megenda’s fist. Yana relaxed, but remained watchful.

  “Touch any of them and you won’t even get what I had already decided to give you,” Marmie said in a silky voice that carried both promise and threat

  Dinah swatted at Megenda’s fist and he lowered it as she said, with just a touch more irritation and
calculation in her own voice, “But Madame Algemeine, your people haven’t responded to the ransom demands either.”

  Marmion shrugged. “Nor will they,” she said with a smile that was just the right side of smugness. “You can’t imagine that I would leave my organization vulnerable to this sort of thing, can you?” A wave of her elegant hand dismissed the ship, the pirates, and her situation. “My people have orders to ignore extortions—”

  “Even when we start returning you to them a piece at a time?” Megenda asked with a leer.

  Dinah O’Neill’s voice was casual and professional as she replied. “Naturally, I have counseled Captain Louchard that you should be returned undamaged, but he’s getting a little put out by the delays.”

  “Gee, that’s tough,” Bunny said.

  This time, before Dinah could move, Megenda lashed out and knocked Bunny flat with a backhanded blow that spun her back against the bunk frame. Roaring, Diego lunged at Megenda, but Namid and Marmion caught him: the brawny crewman already had his laser pistol aimed right at the boy’s forehead.

  “My, the natives are restless,” Dinah said with a sigh. “I’m sorry but I can’t restrain them . . .”

  “That’s nonsense, Dinah, and you know it,” Namid said, as if the words had been forced out of him. “What’s the matter with you? Have you finally gotten so greedy you’ve lost your own survival instinct? You know damn good and well those men don’t go to the head without your approval, so stop this stupid game and tell them to quit beating innocent children or I’ll— I’ll—”

  “You’ll what, Namid?” she asked coldly. “Leave me? A hollow threat, darling.”

  “This isn’t about us—it’s about what you call business,” Namid said, still struggling to hold Diego back. “You used to pride yourself that you’d listen to reasonable arguments.”