Maelstrom

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Maelstrom Page 5

by Anne McCaffrey


  “Great,” Murel said. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

  MIDORI HAD ALREADY plucked all of the tropical blossoms and started stringing them into necklaces or leis. Ke-ola had presented the twins with leis for their first birthday aboard the space station, explaining that these were greeting, parting, and celebratory gifts his people gave each other. Midori, whose specialty was knowing how natural things were used in various cultures, was pleased to have a practical application for her knowledge, though she grieved to have to denude her tropical garden of its flowers. Murel and Ronan pitched in and began stringing the bright soft blooms alongside her.

  “We won’t be able to make enough,” Ronan said.

  “That’s okay,” Murel said. “I think it’s the thought that counts here. We’ll give one to Leilani and let Ke-ola decide where else to put them. Maybe we can give individual blossoms to other people kind of randomly. It’s a goodwill gesture. Emissaries do that kind of thing, you know.”

  “Of course I know. We studied the same stuff. How are we going to get them to sit still long enough to collar them?”

  “Collar them? We’re not arresting them, we’re honoring them, Ro. You don’t have to make fun just because you didn’t think of it first.”

  “I just figured naturally we’d do that since that’s what they do,” he said. “I didn’t know you were going to make such a big deal of it, though.”

  She rolled her eyes and continued as if he hadn’t spoken. Midori looked up from her stringing and smiled. Murel thought Ronan was showing off for the benefit of the pretty scientist.

  Midori helped her out by asking, “When do you plan to present the leis?”

  “We have a little time. Once the Honus are settled into the tanks and all of the other people arrive, Mr. Carnegie’s crew will offer them something to eat and drink, of course. I don’t think they were able to take much with them when they evacuated, and now all of their supplies are destroyed. Even if they don’t want to come to Petaybee, they’re going to be on short rations until Intergal gets around to replenishing their food, so I hardly think they’ll refuse a meal. But first we’ll have to lift off again because, of course, we can’t just sit around down here and wait for meteors to fall. Johnny will offer to take them for a spin outside the meteor belt. Then we’ll present the leis while the food is served and welcome them to the Piaf and, we hope, to Petaybee.”

  “And if they decide not to emigrate to Petaybee?” Midori asked, her fingers flying through deep lavender and cream petals.

  “I don’t see that they have a lot of choice now. That planet is not fully terraformed. Petaybee in the middle of winter has more to sustain life. I think Marmie is planning on taking any who don’t want to come with us to the nearest Federation outpost to lodge a complaint about Intergal’s negligence in overseeing their welfare. But why would they want to go through all that? They know how reliable the company’s promises, or even the Federation’s, can be. And with the Honus on board and wanting to come with us, and a lot of their relatives, I bet everybody else will want to come too. At least they should be in the right frame of mind to consider thinking about coming with us.”

  “While they’re eating, we could show them the holo we did about Petaybee for school,” Ronan suggested. “I saw it in the Piaf’s memory banks.”

  One of their first assignments while attending classes on Marmie’s space station had been to make a holographic representation of their planet, including the topography, special features, imports, exports, culture, and in fact most things a prospective settler might want to know. Each student in the class had made one to acquaint all of the others with his or her background.

  Ronan continued, “Marmie got some good footage of the new volcanic island when she returned to fetch us for this mission. Ke-ola can sing the song he made about the big eruption.” He ran out of words, remembering that Keoki had seemed almost hostile and none of others had been ready to leave until the turtles swam ashore. “Do you think they’ll go for it?”

  Murel looked at him gravely. “They don’t have that much choice, do they?”

  “I guess not, but they don’t seem anxious to make friends.”

  Midori said, “That’s your job. That is why this,” she lifted the lei, “is such a good idea. If you show some understanding of their culture, their viewpoint, they may feel that you want them to be comfortable, that you care about them. That should help.”

  “That and feeding them, maybe,” Ronan said.

  Marmie’s voice came over the intercom. “Murel and Ronan, our guests have arrived.”

  “We’ll be right there, Marmie—only, maybe someone could bring a florrie to help us carry the flowers?” The florries were a cross between a small flitter that could operate in the corridors of the ship and a lorry, or truck.

  “Never mind, Madame. We’ll take mine,” Midori said. She stepped into a bay that was hidden by greenery and drove out in a florrie that still had water glistening off it. “I just washed it after hauling some soil,” she explained.

  “I’ll come back and wash it again for you later,” Ronan offered shyly. Midori was very pretty.

  “I don’t think so,” she said with a disappointing lack of gratitude. “I like to care for my own equipment.” She added gently, “But thanks for the thought.”

  CHAPTER 6

  THE CARPETING AROUND the huge tank had been stripped away when the tank was installed, and now deckhands busily mopped the slippery surface. Water continued cascading over the top as the enormous Honus glided and swept, dipped and dived around one another in a graceful ballet.

  Honus are happy, their Honu told them, his thought tone reflecting his own happiness.

  “Glad somebody is,” Ronan muttered to Murel. The human evacuees looked as bleak as Halau’s surface.

  There weren’t enough seats for everyone, but those who had no chairs seemed perfectly comfortable sitting on the deck—in fact, a couple of chairs were empty and people were leaning against them instead of sitting. Now that the people were in good light, it was clear they were ragged with exhaustion.

  Leilani stood near Marmie, and Ronan overheard her asking, “Have you heard anything about the other settlements?”

  “Not yet,” Marmie said. “Colonel Cally and his crew were going to check on them. Let’s see what they’ve found.”

  As the two women walked over to the lounge’s com unit, Murel pulled an armload of leis out of the florrie. Looking around, she found the oldest of the island descendants and approached her. She held out the lei and said, “Welcome aboard, ma’am. Aloha.”

  The old lady blinked up at her, and Murel dropped the lei over her head, less ceremoniously than she’d intended. The lack of interest and bafflement on the elder’s face caused Murel to release the flowers as if they’d suddenly turned hot.

  She started for Keoki next but he glared at her so fiercely she turned away. “Maybe I’m not doing this right. But this is what Ke-ola did, isn’t it?”

  “I think they’re a little distracted, sis,” her brother said.

  She looked at the glum and only slightly hopeful faces of the people crowded into the lounge. “Yeah, I guess it could have a dampening effect on a party,” she said aloud. “Plus they’re worried about—”

  “Cally here.” The colonel’s brusque voice sounded even harsher than it had before. “What do you need now, Madame Algemeine?”

  “We have some of the survivors from New Puna here and they are wondering how the other settlements fared, Colonel,” Marmie explained.

  “The short version is: they didn’t. I don’t have an exact body count but anybody who wasn’t crushed was fried, as far as I can see. There’s nothing you can do for any of these people, ma’am. I strongly suggest you get the—heck—out of here before the next shower starts. I certainly intend to.”

  Cally’s face in the large comscreens at each corner was trying to look cool and in command but his left eyelid blinked nervously. It was very clear he want
ed the whole incident to be over and done with and to see the last of the Piaf and her pesky crew.

  “Very well, Colonel. I shall of course take your advice. I also intend to recommend to the Federation that no further settlement be allowed on this world. It is obviously too unstable for human habitation.”

  “Right. You do that little thing, Madame. Cally out.”

  Wow, he was a bit upset, wasn’t he? Ronan remarked to his sister. He didn’t argue with Marmie, didn’t say anything about our guests, nothing.

  He probably would have made us send them back down to let the meteors have another go at them if it was anybody but Marmie on this ship, Murel replied with a hostile glance at the now vacant comscreen. I think he was lying about searching for other survivors too. Did you see how his eye twitched?

  The people around them had been murmuring during their exchange, those closest to the com screen relaying what was being said back to the others.

  The murmur escalated to a mutter, then to shouting. Then a long wail cut through all of it, accompanied by shrieks and sobs from others.

  An old woman was pulling at her long gray hair, her fingers bloody from the wounds her nails made on her scalp. The hair falling into her contorted face was soon soaked with her tears. Ke-ola knelt beside her and put his arm around her. Later he told the twins that the woman was his auntie on his father’s side. She had a daughter and five grandchildren in one of the settlements Cally had pronounced lost.

  The elder to whom Murel had given the lei rocked back and forth moaning, twisting the flowers to shreds in her fingers.

  Keoki sat glowering at first, and then, when Leilani touched him on the shoulder, rose and helped her try to comfort the others.

  “Blankets, I think,” Marmie said to Purser Carnegie. He had been standing by the cartloads of food until the conversation with Cally was over. Now he tried to appear calm as he awaited his orders. “Then some fairly stiff drinks and sedatives for the worst cases. When they have quieted a bit, the ones who are still awake will probably be able to eat the food.”

  “We have plenty for the one hundred and fifty humans and ten sea turtles I have counted among our guests, Madame, and comfortable sleeping quarters are being provided.”

  “Excellent,” Marmie said, “but I would not be surprised if for the time being the guests preferred more communal arrangements so that they might remain close to each other.”

  “Very insightful of you, Madame. Should that be the case, appropriate bedding will be provided for them here.” He gave a little bow and left.

  The twins were standing close to Marmie at the time or they wouldn’t have heard what was said. The younger children had picked up on the distress of the adults and started shrieking and crying too. All of a sudden things were far beyond the control of the people in charge. The young ones, whether frantically clutched in a smothering embrace or ignored, were terrified. Taking cover from a meteor storm was exciting when adults were there to assure them that everything was all right. When the adults were crying, everything was clearly out of control.

  Murel helped Purser Carnegie’s staff pass out blankets and warm drinks. Presently she noticed that the children’s sobs began to subside. A moment later she heard a distinct giggle, and even a laugh. Startled, she looked up to see Sky peering out from behind one child, teasing another.

  Good work, Sky, she told the otter. Maybe if the kids calm down, the adults will too. Though they have enough to cry about, it’s true.

  Otters do not cry, Sky told her. Then, after a moment in which he seemed to consider his statement, asked, Is crying the noise the new people are making?

  Yes, she said.

  Otters do not cry and otters would not like to cry. Otters like to play.

  Yes you do, and very good at it you are too, she said, smiling when she looked at him.

  The child behind whom the otter was hiding waved her over and pointed at Sky. “Your aumakua is very friendly. You must take very good care of him.”

  “We take care of each other,” she said. “What’s aumakua mean? It’s part of Ke-ola’s last name, I know.”

  “And ours. Honu’aumakua,” the little one said. “That’s us because the Honu is our aumakua. Is this furry little fellow yours? What’s he called?”

  “Sky. He’s an otter. A river otter originally but then he became a sky otter, when he flew in a helicopter.”

  “So is your name Sky’aumakua or Otter’aumakua?”

  “Neither one, it’s Shongili. Are your people named after a friendly animal usually?”

  “My family is named for the Honu,” the child said, as if the question baffled her.

  While Murel distracted herself with the little one, a loud argument broke out among some of the guests. Ke-ola was in the thick of it, he, Keoki, and Leilani shouting and gesturing.

  They were arguing in their own language so Murel couldn’t make it out. What’s the matter with them? she asked the Honu.

  They will not leave this place. Others remain outside, below. They die.

  Well, yeah, there were others but . . . Realizing it was useless standing there having a telepathic argument with a sea turtle, she walked over to the group, dodging the gesticulating hands, and asked Ke-ola, “What are you fighting about?”

  “I told them there’s nothing to be gained from everyone staying behind, that Petaybee may be a cold place but it’s better than here. But they say—”

  So much for our diplomatic persuasive tactics, Murel thought.

  “We say,” Leilani put in, “that if the company abandons the planet and we go off with you, what if some of our people did survive underground somewhere? They can’t live on what the planet alone provides. There may be others, like us, who hid belowground to escape the meteors. They’ll starve to death if we just abandon them.”

  “But we’ll starve to death too if we stay,” Ke-ola said. “Oh, sure, Madame would leave us food and water and even see that more are delivered later, but without regular supply runs, we can’t survive here.”

  “Wait,” Murel said. “I thought you were the only people left alive, and we know that because the Honu knows about that kind of thing.”

  “Honus know what affects their own people,” Ke-ola told her. “With people who are guarded by other aumakuas, Honus don’t know so much.”

  “Fine time to find out they don’t know everything,” Murel said. “So what do we do now, Ke-ola?”

  “The ship and our people stay in orbit. I will take a shuttle back to Halau and explore the waterways and underground. Madame can leave me a way to communicate, and I can let her know if I find someone.”

  Ronan said, “That’s a pretty pathetic plan, Ke-ola. That’s about as good as Mum wanting to stay behind with Marmie’s yacht while everybody else got in lifeboats to escape the volcano. I know you feel bad about the people who died—or are missing—but . . . ”

  Murel’s imagination had gone to work while they talked. She could see people trapped in little narrow passages, similar to the lava tube but smaller and darker. The passages would be choked with roots, damp underfoot and lightless once the fuel for the torches or the batteries for the flashlights wore out. The people trapped there would stand or sit or maybe only have room to squat in those tight little places. They’d listen, waiting until the meteors stopped crashing and shaking the world around them. Finally, when it seemed safe to go aboveground again, they wouldn’t be able to stay. The air mixture aboveground was not safe to breathe without protective clothing or equipment. There was no shelter for them, no food. They would discover they’d been left for dead, and soon enough they would die.

  “We’re going too,” she said, interrupting more arguing. “Ronan and me, we’ll help you find them.”

  “Not your job,” Ke-ola said.

  Leilani, Keoki, and others gave her startled looks. She moved closer to Ke-ola and said in a low voice, “Maybe not, but if those canals are filled with water, as you said, we’ll be better able to help than anyone
else. You know what I mean, Ke-ola.”

  “You don’t know how things are down there. You don’t know where to look. I grew up here.”

  “So you come too, but we’re going to help.”

  CHAPTER 7

  THIS ISN’T PETAYBEE, children,” Marmie said when they told her what they intended to do. “There are no rivers or open sea on Halau—it is all underground and in utter darkness, with dangers multiplied by the damage from the meteor shower. No, I’m sorry. It is out of the question.”

  The twins complained to each other but knew there was no dissuading Madame once she made her decision. Nor would she hear of Ke-ola or the others going back.

  “But Marmie, what if that Cally is wrong?” Murel said. “What if there are still people down there? If we just go without finding out for sure, we could be condemning them to a horrible death. And to make matters worse, they’d know they were dying because the other survivors abandoned them.”

  Marmie gave her a shrewd look. “They are not to know that there are survivors if they have been hiding underground all that time, n’est-ce pas?”

  “It doesn’t matter if they know or not, we’ll know,” Ronan told her. “And Ke-ola’s people will know and they’ll always wonder. It’s no way to start a new life, thinking maybe you’ve left people to die a—”

  “Enough!” Marmie said firmly. “Some things cannot be helped, and I trust that the adults among Ke-ola’s people will understand this.”

  “No, they don’t,” Murel said just as firmly.

  “In time they will.”

  “One last sweep, Marmie,” Ronan wheedled. “It’s what we came down here to do, after all. Just because we got some people safe doesn’t mean we should go away without making sure there aren’t more. You don’t really trust that creepy Colonel Cally to find his own arse with both hands, do you?”

  “What if the meteor showers begin again?” she asked.

  “The Honus will know,” Ke-ola told her. He stood a little behind the twins, and it seemed he’d been talking with Leilani and Keoki, but Murel didn’t think he had missed a word.

 

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