“What damage?” Lori said, annoyed, and knowing what was to follow.
“To the plants, to my quarry, disturbance to the peace and, something else, maybe ‘tranquility,’ the Anawoka said, “or serenity, the disturbance to my animals, and my humble way of life.”
“Plants will grow again, it is early in the season yet,” Lori said. “Yet, in appreciation for your hospitality, we will be pleased to offer you a gift, in token for disturbing your life. What might you wish?” She doubted he’d know what to say, but he fooled her.
“I will require one of those floating vehicles, to easy my travel and work upon the farm.”
“Extortion,” grumbled one of the Pokoniry in Selat. Others added, “Ridiculous...give him a handful of their money, and call it good.”
“Wait,” Lori said. “I saw a small AG sled in Morales’ lighter. How about that? And maybe a computer, too? One of the basic ones?” She looked around, and the group nodded and shuffled their feet in agreement, not wanting to argue with her. “Tell him that, Sialia,” she said, “Say it’s the best we can do.”
“Atuka says it is disappointing, but acceptable, provided we leave soon, by the next bright at the latest.”
“Very well, we will be sure to do so. Again, thank Atuka for the kind use of his land. Can someone bring up the sled and one of the computers?” Lori said, turning to the group.
“Wait,” the Anawoka said. “The native said he knows this is our custom, and he wishes to follow it.”
Lori looked back, to see the native standing there with his left hand outstretched, offering to shake hers. She walked to him, not wanting to use her injured left arm, she took his hand instead with her right one, and shook it briefly.
“You’ve made the day for him, Lorelei,” a Pokoniry said in Selat as she started to walk away. “Actually touching the Sky Lady will make him famous in all the land.”
“Maybe I should have done that first, and saved some of our goods,” Lori said smiling. “Doesn’t matter. I’m going back to the lighter, stay here and keep an eye on him?”
As she walked back, a Kobi passed her carrying a computer in a case, and pulling the AG sled, which hovered a half meter over the ground. Eagle One flew back, overhead, pacing her as she went.
The lighter was well stripped by the time Lori returned, the insides pretty much gutted, all the guns gone, and some of the damaged armor plating cut away. Pokoniry engineers were welding the cables to each corner, so it could not drift off them in zero G. Lori looked at what was available to her. Two Pokoniry cargo lighters, a small Earth lighter, several air cars, and the large bigboy lighter. By far, the bigboy lighter was the largest, it could handle one end at least, as previously. Nothing else approached the size or lift capacity. She checked with a bigboy standing there, and he assured her, even stripped down, the Earth lighter was too heavy for their own ship to move up into orbit by itself. They’d need one or more of the other lighters, working in concert, to do that. But how?”
“Eagle One,” she said, going to her air car. “We need to lift the damaged lighter up to the Koyaanisqatsi, but can’t do it with just one of the other lighters. We’ll need to use two or more, but are having trouble getting them to work together. The computers don’t mesh. Do you have a suggestion?”
After a moment, Eagle One said, “Two lighters can accomplish the task, though three will be better, as before. Even with the damaged lighter weighing less, the bulk and distance require sufficient capacity to provide a margin of safety.”
“How many?”
“The bigboy lighter, and the two others, as before.”
“How can we get them to work together?”
“I can do so, if given the frequencies, and access to the drive computers.”
Yes, that will be the trick, she thought, turning to look at the crew, now mostly done, and standing around, checking the cables. “OK, I’ll see what I can do.”
She approached the bigboys, and the Pokoniry, told them what was necessary. They stared at her a moment, went to discuss the matter among themselves. Soon the bigboys returned, and the Pokoniry hurried over, too.
Shibori, the bigboy, said, “Great Lady, only out of respect for you, and your magnificent air car, Eagle One, and your great honor, would we consent to providing access to our computers. It is not possible to separate the engine controls from the core itself, so all will be open to your Eagle One.”
“I assure you, the computer will be used only to the minimum required, nothing more.”
“Then we are pleased to offer you our assistance.” He turned to look at the Pokoniry, who immediately also concurred. Lori figured that had the bigboy refused, so would the Pokoniry, but could hardly do so now, and look petty and insecure.
“How do you suggest we proceed?” she asked them.
“Your ship will probably not be in optimum position for several hours now. I suggest we wait until then, until Eagle One determines when to depart, secure the cables in advance, test the lift, and depart at its signal. We will provide the frequencies at once.”
“I will tell Eagle One. Once again, the honor and assistance of our great friends, the bigboy and the Pokoniry, save the day,” Lori said, bowing to each in turn. “As soon as I have a departure time, I will let you know.”
The bigboy gestured upward. “Meanwhile, we will keep the locals at bay, they are most curious of what we do.” Overhead, aircraft and helicopters droned in circular patterns, watching the quarry below, and the strange gathering of the expedition’s forces.
Lori told Eagle One and Hunter what the proposed lift would entail. Eagle One said it would need to fly alongside the lifters, which Lori knew was best. She asked what was happening elsewhere.
Hunter told her, “Well, the Cerskogo military and their allies, a growing number, by the way, are routing the remnants of the Vorkyta forces. Once they lost their air power, they pretty well lost everything.”
“They’re still fighting?”
“Yeah, some on the ground, and at some of the air bases invaded by the allies. We are suggesting they sue for peace, and some movement in that direction is starting, I think.”
“Short war.”
“Aren’t they all, now?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“However, that little forest fire, back at the battle site, has grown into quite a big one, and getting worse. It’ll burn out a thousand or two hectares, maybe more, at the rate it’s going.”
“Which way?”
“Off the reservation, into the big woods.”
“They fighting that?”
“Some, but not much.”
She shook her head. “Let them handle it, then. What else? Any interest in the battle elsewhere?”
“I guess–it’s been on all the TV stations, all over the planet.”
“Reactions?”
“Everyone else is pretty well pissed, afraid it’ll sour relations, and end the trade negotiations.”
“Well, it shouldn’t. I mean, you know...?”
“Yeah, we know, and most of the traders are saying that, but it would sure help if you did, too.”
“When?”
“Soon as possible.”
“Let them finish up with that Vorkyta place first. Then I’ll talk to them, again. Gads.”
“How soon can we leave?” Hunter asked.
Lori looked at her watch. “Two and a half hours, more or less.” She looked at Hunter. “You bring any ration packs, or anything? Something to drink, too?”
“No, but the Kobi have. You hungry? They have a little mess set up over there,” Hunter said, pointing to a small tent with a number of tables under it.
“Bless them. Coffee would be nice, too. Let’s go.”
At the mess area, Lori found hot coffee, soup, warm bread, some cheese and fruit, and a pasta casserole. She took a plate and sat at the table with Hunter, and a couple of the other people still there.
“Is that native farmer still hanging out in the field?” s
he asked the Anawoka standing nearby.
He cocked his head, spoke into a microphone at his shoulder, and said, “Yes, practicing with the sled. The Kobi instruct him.”
“See if he wishes to join us for lunch. Invite him here.”
“Lori, really?” Hunter said.
“Yes. Then he can see we’re not trashing his quarry.”
The native soon joined them, pulling the sled, and carrying a small parcel, stopped at the table, looking around at everything, little activity going on at the moment. The Kobi produced a plate for him, and a steaming cup of coffee. Atuka seemed to know about that, took it, raised the cup in salute, and sipped the hot liquid.
“Yes, this is most fine. Good to provide, for us.” He put the cup down. “Already, I learn the use of your marvelous sled. It will be most useful in the farm chores. I am thankful,” Atuka said. He unwrapped the parcel, produced a plate with cookie-like pastries on it. He set it on the table, and one of the engineers began scanning one of the cookies.
The engineer said, “Looks OK,” and took a bite. “Pretty good,” he said.
Lori let the others engage in small talk with him, while she ate. Her arm was beginning to ache, to throb a little, she’d ask to have it looked at later, after they finished. She noticed the native kept glancing at her, whether she spoke or not, seemingly fascinated to be sitting there, one of the group. She answered his questions, and asked about this farm operation, which he described at length. A bigboy eased into the political arena, and she listened as he described the politics and policies of his province, and speculated on what might follow, once the war was over. The bigboys took the opportunity to give a short lecture, and what befalls those who do not meet the standards of personal and group honor. The native listened in silence, apprehensive he might be found wanting in some respect. But the talk moved on to more farming, weather, and crop rotations, and he relaxed again. Soon, the cookies were almost gone, but Lori passed on taking one.
Her meal finished, Lori stood, Atuka immediately jumped up, and bowed to her in farewell. She returned to her air car, went past it behind a low mound of talus for relief, and came back. Soon, everyone began packing up everything, the tent struck, the ground searched for litter or whatnot. The Anawoka announced the Koya was approaching position for a rendezvous. Lori, Hunter, Sialia, Shibori, a Pokoniry, and one of Morales’ crew lifted in Eagle One, and flew to the lighter.
“Eagle One, take charge of the lifters, and raise the damaged lighter into orbit, and on to the Koyaanisqatsi,” Lori said, and released the controls.
“Standby,” Eagle One said, and a furious scramble of Selat scrip raced across the screen, jumped upward, more replaced it, several screens, a schematic of a lift track, instantly gone, and a final screen, blinking once, and gone, too. “Testing,” Eagle One said, more script, short lines, there, seen, and replaced by others. The three lifters rose ten meters, the cables straightened, the lighter slew about on the ground a little, leaving a short scrape, and rose a meter. More script appeared, blinked off, and the screen read, “Lift ready.”
Atuka stepped away, produced a camera, and began watching and filming the lift.
“Proceed,” Lori said, unnecessarily. “Show progress on screen.” Turning to the others in the air car, she said, “Notify your people we are lifting off.” Everyone pulled out a phone or a radio, and the cabin buzzed with four languages.
Outside, the lighter slowly floated upward, toward the cloud-specked sky, several air cars zoomed in to accompany it, and every airplane and helicopter in the area slowed to follow the progress. But Eagle One took it directly upward, something the native aircraft could not do, and gathered speed, too, though it went only to a mild acceleration, and held speed at that. Lori watched the track on the screen, seeing the world fall away below them, the clouds come and drop off, the sky brighten, then darken, and the track hold steady, the course now stretching out, eastward, going up into low orbit.
She did not speak to Eagle One, wanting it to be undisturbed in its complex work, and not sure what her queries or comments might do, and did not want to find out, anyway, secretly somewhat apprehensive, but confident none the less. The air car shadowed the four vessels tied together with cables, visible to their left, others scattered about here and there. The great, glowing curve of the planet appeared to the front and side, and the sky darkened further, the sun behind them. The track remained steady, the speed slowing somewhat, though hardly noticed by the crews involved. A few comments came and went between the passengers in Eagle One, and the pilots sitting in the lifting lighters, they with nothing really to do, just wait and watch.
“The Koya is dropping orbit, will meet us at 203 kilometers,” Hunter said.
Shit, more fuel to burn, coming and going, Lori thought, realizing the little skirmish would be expensive in the end. Combat pay, wounded people, some dead, ammo expended, a lighter wrecked. What a mess. All in the name of trade. But she just nodded, watching the screen, now seeing the rendezvous point dead ahead. Speed seemed completely absent now, nothing ahead, just the growing glow from the cluster all around them, blazing in glory, as usual. She watched for the strobes from the Koya, saw none, knowing they should be there directly forward. Was the air car wrong, had it screwed up the ascent? Shit. She began to perspire, little damp spots under her arms, on her back, her face warm. Her arm ached more and more, was starting to throb. Was she embarrassed for Eagle One, or for herself? She looked up and out, and could see nothing that looked like a starship, and the screen showed they were right on it.
“Dead ahead, twelve o’clock high,” Hunter said, startling her. She leaned forward to see out the top of the window, raised her head and eyes, and smiled. A pure white flash blinked there, they were still rising, she’d been looking ahead over the top of the air car’s hood, not high enough. When would she ever trust her air car completely? Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly feeling much better. “They have us on screen, Cargo Bay Delta is open, they’ll turn the ship for us, does Eagle One know?” Hunter asked.
“Destination confirmed,” Eagle One said, without prompting.
The ship, a dot at first, grew quickly, flying at them sideways, a square hole in the mid-section outlined in bright lights. Small lighters or sleds drifted nearby. Their progress slowed, they approached at a low speed. When the side of the starship dominated the entire view forward, a space sled flew out, met them, and one of the two crew attached a cable to the fore end of the shot up lighter. Lori’s radio said, “Umbilical cable secured, you may release tethers.”
“Eagle One, the Koya has the lighter, drop cables, and release control, return to pilots.”
“Roger,” it said, and the cables parted from the tugs, went slack in space. The lighter continued on, the three lifters slowed, and fell behind. Eagle One went on, pacing the lighter, which slowly moved toward the open hold in the starship.
“How they gonna stop it?” Hunter said, to see a sled come up on the far side of the lighter, and clip another umbilical there. “Oh, never mind.”
The lighter slid into the hold with room to spare on all sides, the trailing cable stretched taut, and it stopped. Gravity came up, the lighter settled onto a dolly, the cables slacked off, and the lighter moved along further into the hold, while crew people gathered up the snaking tethers.
Lori turned Eagle One to face the several air cars and the three lighters standing off to the starship’s side. She said, “My thanks to you all, your assistance is appreciated, and is a fine example of inter-species cooperation, especially for the unruly ones below. Now, will you join us for refreshments on the Koyaanisqatsi? I welcome your visit.” She knew her passengers needed to be picked up, and everyone wanted to come aboard, anyway, and brag a little. So when they all accepted, she turned again, and flew into the hold herself.
The damaged lighter was gone, away into a small maintenance alcove, and in atmosphere already. The incoming air cars settled into a sub-bay, and waited for air themselves, and w
hen it steadied, everyone stepped out, and hurried away, into the ship.
Hunter climbed outside, and waited for Lori. She put her hand on the screen, and said, “Eagle One, was the lift difficult?”
“Control required much of my ability, but for me, no lifting was necessary. The other air cars did the lifting, which was within their combined ability. Was it satisfactory?”
“Eagle One, your work was excellent, very well done. We needed to remove the damaged lighter from the surface, and you let us do so. I am very pleased with your work.”
“I work as directed,” the air car said, and Lori knew it did not have to say anything.
“You do so very well, as always,” she said, slowly taking her hand off the screen. She looked at Hunter, and smiled.
He looked down at her, saying, “The medics await us within, Lori, with some impatience. Better humor them soon, or they’ll be out here with a stretcher.”
“Oh, shit, not that,” Lori said, jumping up, and hurrying to her husband, and on into the ship.
With her arm cleaned and bandaged, and her ragged sleeve back over it all, Lori went to the maintenance hold to check on the damaged lighter. Groups of people stood around, looking at it. Morales was there, sitting in an AG chair, a light bandage circling his head. He looked up at Lori as she approached, and moved to stand up.
“You get up, and I’ll hit you in the head again,” Lori said, jabbing a finger at him.
He relaxed back down, saying, “With your bad arm, I presume?”
“No, my good one. OK, how’s it look?”
“Totaled. Not worth fixing, really. It’s shot,” he said, waving a hand at the hulk.
“They get the body out?”
“Yeah, had to cut it out with laser torches.” He shook his head. “She was a hell of a pilot.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. But for her skill, we’ll all be dead, or captured. Or both.”
“How’s everyone else?”
“They’ll survive. One’s in sick bay, the rest are up and walking. I will, too, soon as no one’s watching.”
T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6) Page 63