In the meantime, he continued to scan instruments, airspace, and the ground beneath, looking for any sign of unfriendliness. At his speed and altitude, his greatest danger was impaling himself and the flitter on some terrain feature—like a rock spire—that he didn’t see.
The high clouds would have helped against satellite detection, but without a concentrated down-array, that wasn’t a problem either. That left other aircraft and pilot error as his two biggest threats. In his state of mind, pilot error was the biggest threat.
Already he could see the end of the valley ahead. The first time he had made the trip to the Institute, it had been by groundcar. Now he was traveling as fast as he could push the flitter, and the distance seemed minimal.
His fingers toggled the receiver through the major frequencies.
Nothing but static, and he left the frequency selector on control as he raised the nose and began the climb back over the front-range hills.
“…control…location…one…”
“…negative…”
He frowned. Someone was still looking for him.
Ahead, he could make out the hills behind the Institute, but not the buildings. He crossed the Grand Highway and dropped the nose. For a number of reasons, a high-speed approach was advisable.
The flitter screamed in over the south side of the Institute at less than two hundred meters. Abreast of the lake, Jimjoy flipped it ninety degrees to the ground, dropped full spoilers, cut the turbines, and brought the stick nearly into his lap, watching the airspeed bleed off.
As it dropped below two hundred kays, he punched the rotor deployment and eased the flitter upright, nose high, to bleed off more speed.
Thwop…thwop, thwop, thwop…
With the aircraft under full rotor control, he brought the flitter back around into the wind, scanning the space before the Administration building. At least a squad in field greens was deployed around the building. Two figures stood at the end of the walk to the circle drive. One, the shorter, waved a projectile rifle, indicating he should land.
The other, light-haired—was it silver-haired?—raised a hand. Jimjoy took a deeper breath and began his flare, easing the flitter into the open grass in the middle of the circle. At least Thelina was there, even if she didn’t seem wildly enthusiastic about his arrival.
Even as the skids eased onto the grass, his fingers began the steps to shut down the flitter. Then he noticed that one of the Ecolitans—the one who had waved him in for a landing—had her weapon trained on him.
He raised both hands for a moment, then continued his shutdown.
Thelina stood outside the rotor wash, shaking her head sadly. Two Ecolitans, wearing field two patches and carrying the projectile rifles they were not supposed to have, were behind her. Neither was watching Thelina. One left her rifle loosely trained on the flitter. The other scanned the area around the Administration building.
As he shut down the turbines and continued through the checklist, bringing the rotors to a full stop, he noted the other Ecolitans in field greens scanning the area. He took off the helmet slowly, feeling his ears tingle. As he set it on the console, he rubbed his temples briefly with his right hand, then opened the cockpit.
The Ecolitan who had focused her rifle on him had now lowered it slightly.
Thelina waited for him to walk to her, not even lifting a hand, although he thought he saw a brief smile.
He wanted to put his arms around her, but she was waiting for him to get close enough to hear, and her body posture was formal—almost stiff.
“Congratulations, hotshot.” While her words were sarcastic, her tone was soft, almost sad. “You precipitated another crisis, just by refusing to take the right precautions and then waiting too long.”
“Waiting too long?” Jimjoy was puzzled.
“I sent you a message…”
Jimjoy was shaking his head.
“You didn’t get it?”
“No. That’s why I took the first shuttle I could. I expected something; you told me you’d be in touch. I didn’t tell anyone…that’s why, when that flitter team zeroed in on me and was from field three…and Sabatini was the clincher.”
“Field three? Sabatini? What happened at the port? What did you really do? Harlinn tried to lock us up. Didn’t use enough force—”
Her posture wasn’t stiff, he realized. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I’ll be all right.”
“Let’s see Hyrsa. You can tell me on the way.”
The dark-haired woman who had watched him nodded at his remark. “I’ll get a groundcar, Professor.”
“I’ll be fine,” protested Thelina.
“Are things under control?” he asked.
“Yes. Kerin’s squad took over comm, and that boy Elias—Elias Elting, the one you carried to the infirmary that night—he literally pulled Harlinn from his flitter, along with some very interesting files.
“His partner, Mariabeth, made copies and circulated them to everyone, immediately. That quieted the few who were actively resisting.”
A groundcar purred up, stopping well clear of the grounded flitter.
“Is there anyone here who can get that flitter to maintenance?” asked Jimjoy loudly.
“Yes, ser. I can.” The voice came from the other Ecolitan who had been guarding Thelina. “Ytrell Maynard, journeyman forest spotter.”
“You have it, Ytrell. And thanks.” Jimjoy nodded toward the groundcar, offering his arm to Thelina.
“Thank you, but no. It doesn’t hurt as much if I walk alone…carefully. Probably just a cracked rib. I remember the last set, and this isn’t that bad.”
“Who?” asked Jimjoy. “Harlinn doesn’t have it in him.”
“Talbot, loyal to the Prime to the end.” She started to shake her head, then pressed her lips together and stopped.
Jimjoy glanced at the other Ecolitan, who had continued to scan the area as the three had walked to the groundcar, finally catching her eye. “She took Harlinn’s staff alone?”
“Yes, Professor. We were spread thin.”
Jimjoy looked over at the groundcar driver. “You know the driver?”
“Yes—Altehy. She’s fine. Helped Kerin with comm.”
Jimjoy held open the groundcar door, again extended an arm for Thelina.
“Thanks…”
He hurried around the forest-green car and entered from the other side. “Medical one—do we know who’s on duty?”
“Most of the senior staff,” answered Thelina. “This wasn’t without some casualties, unlike some operations.”
Altehy eased the groundcar back and turned it to avoid the flitter, where the journeyman spotter was pre-flighting the turbine inlets.
“All right,” began Jimjoy.
“You first.”
He shrugged. “When I didn’t hear from you, I set up Mera and Jerrite with instructions—”
“Jerrite?”
“We’re also a little thin. You have Kerin, and…Geoff…Anyway, I set them up with a series of contingencies, including some pretty detailed plans. That was one thing that delayed me. Then I took a needleboat to orbit control, and I spent some time with them—with some more operating plans and procedures for handling various types of incoming traffic and ship classes. Like no direct locks for anything big enough to carry a squad of storm troops.”
“You have been busy.”
“Details, details. Much easier to do something than organize it.”
“You’ve learned that?” Her tone was dry, although her posture was stiff.
Again he wanted to hold her, to tell her he would protect her, even as he realized that he was having trouble protecting himself. “Thelina…” His voice was low.
“Yes?”
“Please take care of yourself. Please.”
Surprisingly, she just turned her head toward him.
He bent over and brushed her lips with his. “You mean too much to me.” For a moment his vision blurred. He shook his head a
nd swallowed, then took her hand, which was reaching for his, and held it, gingerly, afraid that the slightest pressure would cause her to tense the muscles over her injured ribs.
“Thank you for saying it,” she whispered back.
“I care.”
“I know.” After a pause, her voice went from a whisper to a normal tone. “About the rest of your trip?”
Jimjoy did not release Thelina’s hand, but cleared his throat. “Took the first shuttle possible down after I briefed Derrin. Did you know there was a Halstani diplomat coming in from orbit control? Transshipped on one of the independent traders.”
“You get her name?”
“Something like Mariel. Didn’t get too close. A little nervous about Halston,” he reminded her.
“They wouldn’t recognize you now.”
He shrugged. “Anyway, I didn’t get too close. Stepped out of the shuttle. Two flitters waiting, and then Sabatini, disguised as a man, just waiting.”
“And? You commandeered the wrong flitter?”
“Sabatini tried to take me, and then I commandeered the wrong flitter.”
“Dead or unconscious?”
“Probably dead. Had to use a throwing knife.”
“Professor, Leader Andruz…Medical one,” interrupted Altehy.
Jimjoy bolted from the groundcar, scanning the area around medical one, but, again, seeing only a light guard force from a field team, field team one this time.
He held the door and offered an arm. Thelina used both arm and doorframe to ease herself into a standing position.
Two Ecolitans with rifles stood by the entrance.
“Professor, Team Leader…”
“The Team Leader has some ribs that need looking at,” volunteered Jimjoy.
Thelina grimaced at the explanation, but said nothing as they entered.
Jimjoy punched the button for the lift. Climbing stairs was hades on sore ribs.
“So…after you chose the wrong flitter? Did you impose murder and mayhem again?” Thelina glanced from the student Ecolitan at the information desk to Jimjoy and back to the lift door, which was opening.
“No. Broke one wrist, ordered them out. Iananillis, I think, and someone I didn’t know. Then I told Harmony control I was heading for Diaplann. I did until I crossed the range, then took the valley parallel to the Highway.”
They stepped into the empty lift, and Jimjoy punched the square panel for the second floor.
“Now, quickly, what happened here?”
“There’s not much to tell. Harlinn started trying to isolate us. He must have had a few we didn’t know about to have gotten my message to you. I thought Daniella was a safe bet.”
“She might have been. Has anyone seen her?”
“Oh—I thought she was with you.”
“Could be another casualty of Harlinn’s. You and Meryl started organizing, and Harlinn sent some troops from field three to round you up?”
“Sort of.”
The lift door had already opened, and Jimjoy, out of habit, scanned the area. Dr. Hyrsa was talking to one of the medical technicians.
“Thelina! Are you all right?”
“No. She’s not,” answered Jimjoy.
“Let’s get a look at you.” The doctor’s voice was no-nonsense.
Jimjoy followed as the physician led Thelina down the right-hand corridor.
“Professor? I’m not sure…”
“For the moment, I’m staying.”
The doctor looked at Thelina, who smiled faintly.
“I wouldn’t try to make him leave…yet.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have guessed it from the way you two abused each other.”
“Times change,” said Jimjoy.
“So do people,” added Thelina.
He could only shrug, as the doctor pressed a stud beside a closed door. Jimjoy stepped around the two and looked inside from a crouch. The examining room was empty.
“We are secure here, Professor,” commented Dr. Hyrsa.
“I worry.”
Both women exchanged glances.
Jimjoy smiled sheepishly. “All right. I’ll wait outside.”
Thelina looked at him. “I’ll be fine. I’m not made of glass.”
“I know.” He stepped outside, again checking the corridor.
He ought to be checking in with Meryl, who was probably in Harlinn’s office by now, running the entire Institute. But Thelina and Meryl and Kerin had done well without him. Better than he could have done. He shrugged again and leaned against the wall, waiting to hear from the doctor and hoping that Thelina’s ribs were only bruised and not worse.
“Professor?”
He looked up, recognizing the copper-headed nurse. “Verea. How are you?”
“Are you all right? You looked worried.”
“Oh…I’m fine. Nervous, but fine. Thel—Ecolitan Andruz is being checked over by Dr. Hyrsa. Bruised ribs, I hope.” Seeing the look on the nurse’s face, he continued. “Instead of cracked or broken ribs, I meant.”
“Andruz? Oh, she’s the one!”
“What was she doing? Being a hero?”
Verea ignored his soft sarcasm. “They say she personally disabled Harlinn’s entire personal guard, including Talbot.”
Jimjoy raised his eyebrows. Talbot was bigger than he was, and in good shape. While Jimjoy thought he could have taken Talbot, Thelina was giving away at least ten centimeters and thirty kilos. “She’s good,” he admitted, “but I hope the price wasn’t too high.”
“So do we, Professor. So do we.” She started to leave, then paused. “But it’s nice to see you have a soft spot somewhere.”
Jimjoy frowned. What had he done to Verea?”
Click.
He turned toward the sound, so quickly that he found Dr. Hyrsa taking a step backward. “How is she?”
“Better than she has any right to be. Mostly bruises. She has a partial hairline fracture on one rib. How she got that…” The doctor shook her head. “She will be very sore for a while.”
“Will she be staying here?”
“Not as long as she is careful. Right now we’re a little overbooked, thanks to your revolution, Professor.”
Jimjoy pulled at his chin, which felt stubbly. Why was it his revolution? “All right if I wait?”
“It’s likely to be a while. We’re fitting her with an inflatable support splint. Also getting some painkillers and supportive regenerative capsules. You could wait downstairs…”
Since the doctor’s suggestion wasn’t totally suggestive, Jimjoy nodded. “Thank you. Will you tell her?”
“I’ll make sure she knows.” Dr. Hyrsa turned back toward another room, presumably toward another injured Ecolitan.
Jimjoy started for the stairs, wondering just how many people had been hurt in the takeover of the Institute. As he opened the doorway to the upper landing, his mouth opened.
Stacked on the landing was a suspense cart, with three coff-wombs, the portable equipment humming. The chill from the coffinlike enclosures radiated from the cart.
“Excuse me, ser, but please keep away from the equipment.” An orderly, or the equivalent, straightened up from adjusting something. She wore a stunner. “Pardon me, Professor. I didn’t recognize you. What are you doing here?”
“Checking on the casualties,” Jimjoy responded, hating himself for the partial lie, but not retracting it.
The woman nodded. “We did all right, considering that bastard Harlinn had a hidden armory. These are ours. Dr. Hyrsa thinks they’ll make it, if they can hang on until there’s a free operating room.”
“All of you did the impossible,” Jimjoy temporized.
“Just following your example, Professor. Take care.” She returned to monitoring the equipment and the vital signs of the coffwombs’ occupants.
Jimjoy started down the stairs, again wondering what in hades Thelina had been doing, and feeling guilty that he had been so concerned about her relatively minor injuries, and, as he thought
about it, even more guilty that he had been exposed to so little of the danger. Clearly, a lot of young Ecolitans had suffered much worse.
He stepped through the doors on the main floor.
“Professor Whaler! Professor Whaler!” The speaker was a youngster in greens, so fresh-faced he had to have been a first-year student.
“Here!” Jimjoy called unnecessarily, since the young man was already making a beeline for him, thrusting an envelope forward.
The impromptu waiting area was not filled, but several younger Ecolitans, wearing splints, bandages, or vacant looks, turned to view Jimjoy. The faces of at least half carried a degree of respect that verged on awe.
Jimjoy took refuge in the envelope, which had written upon it “Professor James Joyson Whaler II.”
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Please come to the Prime’s office as soon as possible (after you’ve reassured yourself about Thelina). Remember, you are this revolution’s hero. So don’t disclaim it.
Meryl Laubon
Jimjoy swallowed and refolded the paper into the envelope, then turned to the youngster. “Do you have a groundcar?”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Good. I need to head back to the Admin building. Can you take me, and then return to pick up Leader Andruz and bring her after the doctors are finished with her.” At the alarm in the youth’s eyes, he added, “She’s fine.” Or mostly fine, he thought.
Act like a hero…remember? He stopped at the door and turned to the faces that had followed his progress. “Today represents a giant step toward freedom and self-determination. All of you have proved what can be done.” He paused, then added in a lower tone, “But remember, this is only the first step on our way back to the stars—our stars.”
Since he couldn’t think of anything else to say, he didn’t, but let his eyes cover the dozen or so wounded before he turned.
He had to remember not to walk through the student Ecolitan in his preoccupation to reach the groundcar and Meryl.
XLIII
20 Trius 3647
Lansdale Station
Dear Blaine:
Why me? Last thing I need is an incident with a brand-spanking-new Fuardian S.D. Mucker was out to crumple Halley’s fields, no question about it. Flaunted his superiority. Just wanted us to know how good he was.
Empire & Ecolitan Page 51