“Let me educate you,” Lank said, grinning impishly. “I’ve got quite the lesson for you!”
Kati leaned back to eat while Lank talked. It was pleasant to let another person do the explaining, although she did keep an ear open to ensure that Lank was getting the story straight. She would have interrupted, had he slipped up, but he never did. She noted that Joaley and Rakil were following his exposition as keenly as she was, one or the other of them nodding every now and then.
Jock listened, interrupting only to request clarification if he did not understand something. Lank, for all his youth, had an excellent mind for details; Kati thought that he was doing a better job of the “lesson” than she herself could have, since she was more impatient with details. Once Lank was done, Jock sat in silence for a moment or two, then took a deep breath and asked:
“You have just told me that Aris Margolis and three—including the clueless pilot—of his cronies kidnapped the Honoured Guest of the Star Federation from the Federation Space Station, and brought her here to Vultaire, with an insane plan to hide her on his island until he can sell her into slavery? Do I have it right?”
“That’s about the size of it,” Lank replied. An irrepressible grin played on his lips.
Rakil, watching him, burst out laughing.
“You’re right, Lank; it’s hopelessly funny,” he said when he had himself under control. “It’s so insane that it’s funny. No wonder no-one stopped them. Nobody in his right mind could have predicted anything as crazy as this.
“Sorry, Jock,” he added, “but some of your planetary compatriots have gone right around the bend. Lost whatever teensy minds they had.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Jock stated. “They must be assuming that the Federation is not going to exact payment for such an insult.”
“You’re right,” Kati said, abruptly snapping to alertness. “How long will it be before there’s a Torrones Warship in orbit around Vultaire, its Captain begging for permission to slag something or other down to bedrock, as a lesson to the Oligarchs? This city being the preferred target, of course.”
The Federation used the battle-hungry Torrones as law-enforcers when peaceful methods came up short. As far as Kati knew, the Torrones ships had not ever had to use their formidable weapons, but they were a powerful threat with which to coerce compliance.
“Cripes,” Joaley said, her face gone white. “Do these Exalted have any idea what kind of brinkmanship they’ve begun? Vascorn is a good Federation politician, much better than his predecessor, Stolts, at least in my opinion, but, right now, he must feel like his back’s against the wall. Bringing the Torrones to a long-established Federation planet is not something he’d happily do, but he’ll get this Xeonsaur woman back in one piece, one way or another. If what it takes is a Torrones ship threatening to unleash its weapons on Vultaire, then that’s what it’ll be.”
“Any bombs that fall will, of course, fall on people who are thoroughly innocent of any wrong-doing,” Rakil added with a sigh.
“That things should come to this,” Jock muttered. “My world, run by lunatics, and in danger of getting caught in a Federation retaliation.”
“We have to prevent the worst disaster,” Kati said with a determined cheerfulness that her travelling companions on Makros III would have recognized. “And that means that we have to get this Xoraya Hsiss away from the Margolises before more shit can happen. So let’s do some serious brainstorming. Jock, is there any way that we can get our hands on a flyer?”
“Uncle Kelt has a couple, of course,” Jock replied. “And Hector has two as well, but his are out of our reach. Only, all of them are traceable by Government equipment, and questions would certainly be asked if we took any one of them into the rocky reaches of the Margolis Estate.”
“Yo, you who have been through many lives on the wrong side of the law on a number of different worlds,” Kati subvocalized to The Monk. “Do you know if that sort of detection system can be short-circuited?”
“Of course it can. Anything can be short-circuited with a will, a bit of knowledge, and talent,” The Monk responded, readily. “I have the knowledge, and your young friend, Lank, has the talent. If one of you can come up with a reason why you and Lank might want to overhaul one of Kelt’s flyers, I’m sure that we can manage to ‘inadvertently’ disable the spy-system.”
“The Granda figures that if we had a reason for Lank and me to work on one of Uncle Kelt’s flyers, he and Lank could ‘by mistake’ deactivate whatever spy-stuff is on board,” Kati reported aloud.
“Hm,” muttered Joaley. “The Troupe might want to make a quick trip to the nearest of the other two continents. It seems selfish to deprive the ordinary folks in the cities and towns on the other continents of the great entertainment we can provide, but even a steamship—if such is available—would take us there too slowly. Any chance, Jock that you might cajole your uncle into lending us one of his flyers? As payment we could get our resident engineering genius, also known as Lank, to wire in some nifty additions. Like maybe a built-in sound system that plays Tarangay sea shanties non-stop.”
Jock’s face broke into a grin.
“I think your piping and Lank’s flute music are what might sell this scheme to Uncle Kelt,” he said. “Not that he wouldn’t enjoy the sea-shanties, or Kati’s ‘Mudball Song’ for that matter. But inside a flyer—I think that he’d prefer something a little less foot-stomping.”
“Let’s include your Vultairian ballads, Jock,” Kati threw in, feeling elated. “I think we’re going to have a workable plan before this meal is over. I’m just waiting to hear the Forest Spirit confirm the arrival of Mikal and Master Healer Vorlund on planet. Presumably they’ll have at least a flit aboard the Space Cruiser that they’re using.”
“The Port Authorities will make trouble for them,” Jock said. “They’ll throw up as much red tape and regulations as they can, to keep them tangled on the tarmac for days. The Margolis Family, especially Aris with his role in the Federation Government, are closely allied with the Warrions. Unless your friends can think on their feet, they might still be sitting in their ship in Port when the Torrones arrive.”
“Mikal can think on his feet, believe me,” Kati stated. “I wouldn’t put it past him to sneak out of there right under the Warrions’ noses, while leaving them convinced that all four of them are still on board, angry as a nest of hornets about being detained.”
“Sneaking the flit off the Space Cruiser might be impossible, however,” Rakil pointed out. “A couple of guys can get off, I’m sure, and if anyone can engineer it, Mikal can; I agree with Kati on that. But without transportation, they’ll just be another two off-worlders on foot, and that’ll limit what they can do.”
*****
The Forest Spirit contacted Kati once a ship carrying a “healing person” and three other non-Vultairians arrived at the Space Port. Kati took a quick jaunt to the treed park to communicate with the Master Healer, and to find out how the situation on the Cruiser was unfolding. Things were going pretty much as Jock and Rakil had predicted: the Warrions had embargoed the ship, refusing to allow anyone to leave it, and Mikal was busy working out a way for him and Malin to sneak off.
“He refuses to allow me to take part in that operation,” Vorlund told Kati. “I must admit that I quite understand. I’m getting on in years, and I’m stout. Sneaking around in the night is for young men, and that means him and Malin. Josh the pilot would have been good, too, but the Port Authorities are familiar with his voice from landing, so he has to stick around to answer any queries from them. If you have any suggestions for transportation for them, since they won’t be able to use the cruiser’s flit, pass them on to me.”
When Kati returned to the Inn, she discovered that the Troupe had decided that it was a good day for them to play tourist at the Legislative Grounds. There, it was only natural for Jock to introduce them to Uncle Kelt, who was delighted to see them, and took them to Marku’s Bistro for lunch.
&n
bsp; Kati sent the Granda to do a sweep of the eatery, again. Searching for listening devices seemed to have become one of her routines, but quite unnecessary, this time. Marku’s employees apparently knew how to keep the Terrace clear of them.
“The Troupe members were wondering if they could borrow one of your flyers to take a jaunt to the Southern Continent,” Jock began, once their food orders had been taken, and a server had brought over mugs of ale.
“The Southern Continent? That sounds interesting,” Uncle Kelt said, his eyebrows raised. “Not keen on taking passage on one of the steamships? In a way that would be the much safer option. Draw less notice to yourselves, shall I say?”
“Yeah. Only we’re starting to run out of time,” Kati said. “As a matter of fact, we might not even make it as far as the Southern Continent. That trip will be the cover story, however.”
Uncle Kelt chuckled.
“And what are you up to, then?” he asked. “I suppose that Jock told you that our flying vehicles, which we are obligated to purchase through government channels, are equipped with monitoring devices? So even if I’m willing to lend you a flyer—or a flit, for that matter—any travelling you do in such, can be looked into by those who keep tabs on dissident behaviour.”
“Kati and Lank have some ideas about that,” Jock said with a grin.
“As payment for lending us a flyer, we would like to equip it with a sound system which will play our music, for your travelling enjoyment,” Lank said. “Think of listening to pleasant piping, ballads accompanied on the rhyele, flute music, or rousing sea shanties and other sing-along songs performed by our group, while taking long trips around the planet. I brought a few discs with me from Lamania and picked up a few more in Port City before we started this trip, and have been unobtrusively using them to make records of our performances. I’d be glad to doctor some to your tastes, and install them into one or more of your flying machines in return for the loan of a flyer.”
Uncle Kelt peered at him, his eyebrows up.
“And, I suppose, while you are installing such discs, you will have to hook into the electronics of the flyer?” he asked. “And you’ll accidentally uninstall the spy devices on board?”
“That’s the general idea,” Lank answered, grinning broadly. “Kati’s Granda node apparently has the know-how to locate any such devices, and can explain to me how to unhook them without damaging any of the flyer’s working systems. I could probably figure it all out for myself, given enough time, but, as Kati mentioned, time has become an issue.”
“Well, if you can spare the time to work on all three of my vehicles, including the flit, you’re welcome to use any, or all of them,” Uncle Kelt said with an expansive gesture. “I hardly ever care to use them as they are, only on really routine trips like travel between Ithcar and the Capital, or if I have official business in Port City. It would be lovely not to be monitored when I travel beyond a walking distance. Of course, since the government does not admit to spying on the Exalted, they’d have a hard time re-equipping my private property with the bugs.”
“Your flit,” Kati added, “once debugged, would solve another transportation problem we seem to have.”
The servers arrived with the food, so she closed her mouth, and sat back to admire the bounty arriving on the table.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Kati had to let Mikal know, first of all, that her Team had solved his transportation problem; he and Malin only had to make their way from the Port to a location which Uncle Kelt suggested. This handy meeting place turned out to be the home of Nikol, the cart-builder, with whom Kati and Lank were familiar. The Senator from Ithcar, who had suddenly admitted to considerable knowledge about the doings of the Resistance both in the Capital City and the Port City, offered to fly the flit there himself, and to meet Mikal and Malin.
“I’m not offering to join in the scouting of the Margolis Estate,” he said with a laugh when Kati raised her eyebrows at his offer. “I realize that I’m a middle-aged politician, used to sedentary living, and crawling around the rocks of that island is not for me. But I was delighted to be able to node-record the last two Klenser Farm visits, and feeling useful whetted my appetite for more of the same. When I’ve met with Nikol in the past, I’ve noticed that there’s a nice spot behind his house to stash a flit. I doubt that it has ever been used for that—certainly not in my life-time. It’s a good time to change that, I think.
“So, this much I can do,” he continued. “I can meet and pick up your friends, and then have them drop me off here in the Capital, with instructions as to how to get to the Margolis Estate. I’m assuming that you can get word to them about where to meet me. If the Port City Resistance is helping them, I’m sure they’ll get directions to the cart-making shop.”
“I’ll make sure to mention it to the Master Healer,” Kati said. “If I know Mikal, he’ll be sussing out the Resistance in Port City even as we talk.
“And Jock, I should have checked with you before this, but are you coming to the Margolis Estate with the crazy off-worlders, or would you rather pass up this caper?”
“I’m coming, of course,” Jock said. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world—and it is my world at stake.”
*****
Much of the Legislative Grounds were park-like, so it did not take long for Kati to find a shady nook suitable for contacting the Forest Spirit. With its help, she first got in touch with Xoraya. The Xeonsaur woman was happy to hear from her, and to find out that things were happening.
“When the Federation ship arrived at the Port, overriding the Port Authority’s refusal to allow them to land,” she told Kati, “Aris Margolis and his pals decided to follow plan B. However, the flyers that they need to transport us and themselves, haven’t arrived yet; I don’t know why. The boys are anxious and angry; they’re not used to waiting. No-one seems to know what the problem is; the Port Authorities keep saying that the flyers are on their way, and will arrive shortly, but we’re still waiting. I’m starting to suspect sabotage, perhaps by the Resistance, but the concept doesn’t really fit inside these guys’ skulls. They are like spoiled children.”
“Spoiled children with deadly weapons,” Kati responded drily. “It sounds like the Resistance has been emboldened by the hint of hope in the air, and is, perhaps, creating all the trouble that they can. A lot of them, unknown to the Warrions, work for the Port. Which is hardly surprising to anyone who takes a moment to think about it: since the Exalted leave all the real work to the Ordinary Citizens and the Rebels are Ordinary Citizens, the two groups are bound to intersect.
“In any case, I’m glad things are happening slowly. It gives us time to follow you; we have found out where the Margolis Estate is, and are securing transportation there, for my group and for Mikal and Malin, too, when they succeed in sneaking off their ship.”
“You’ve been busy—usefully busy—Kati,” Xoraya sent, in her pleasant mental chime. “With the Spirit’s help, perhaps I can be useful to you and your friends once you get to where they’re taking Canna and me. At the least I can direct you to where she and I have been stowed, and, at best, can give you information about what and who is where, assuming that I can figure it all out before you arrive.”
“Thank you. Whatever help you can provide will be most welcome. I’ll be in touch with you once again on the Margolis’ rocky island.”
Master Healer Vorlund was next. He was quite pleased to be in touch with her, and delighted with the boost the Forest Spirit was giving his powers. He also had a few bits of information that Kati welcomed.
“Xoraya tells me that she has been in contact with you, and in her present state the connection is very easy to make,” the Master Healer told her. “So, I feel that I need not worry about her quite as much as I have. I do envy Mikal and Malin the opportunity to get off the ship—Josh and I will have to barricade ourselves on board to keep the Port Authorities from discovering that two of the crew have mysteriously disappeared. We will be busy refusing to
cooperate with any on-board inspections, locking ourselves inside, stubbornly, if apparently irrationally. Josh has been able to connect to a clandestine network which seems to exist alongside the official one within the Port Communications System. He says that the Vultairian Underground is buzzing with rumours about the presence of our ship at the Port, and the Cruiser we have been following. He has received a lot of cooperation from the Resistance Movement, and has been told stories about an off-world Musical Troupe whose members are covertly aiding the efforts of the Rebels.”
“Well, word of our activities was bound to trickle out, sooner or later,” Kati commented. “When you depend on the people around you to get things accomplished, word will leak out. I’ve been counting on the Exalted being too arrogant to develop much of a paranoia about a bunch of performers who travel around the countryside with a runnerbeast cart. So far so good, but it does appear that things are about to come to a head.
“Tell Mikal that there will be a flit with its owner, an Underground supporter by the name of Kelt Carmaks, waiting for him at Nikol, the cart-maker’s shop. The Carmaks Family are known to be dissidents in spite of their status as members of the Four Hundred, and Lank, I, and the Granda, are going to spend an afternoon ridding Kelt’s flying machines of the bugs that infest them. You might tell Mikal and Josh to pass the word out about the spy-eye cleansing, so no-one needs to worry about Kelt giving away information.”
“I shall do so. I do not know how long it will take to get Mikal and Malin safely out, but I will tell them to head for Nikol, the cart-maker’s shop, when they do.”
“Thanks, Vorlund. I suspect that once you’re out of your metal prison there, you will find a lot of use for your healing skills. And when you do, you’ll find that the best ally of a Healer on this world is the Forest Spirit, and the next best are the Klensers.”
On Assignment to the Planet of the Exalted Page 60