Inside, the cave went back nearly eight meters at a slight leftward curve, then narrowed fast, and at the same time shallowed and dropped away toward the vertical. A projection of rock blocked further exploration; lying against it, from far below Lisele could hear faint sounds of rushing water. Stonzai tried letting down a plastic bucket, but after a few meters it caught on

  162

  an unseen obstacle and the line went slack. So they had to bring water from the river, perhaps a hundred meters down the hill. That was all right; Jenise and Hagen went there to ply their nets, anyway.

  Now, Jenise was nearer her old self than any time since the scout had crashed. The wetness inflamed the skin of her wrist, so Trent took the cast off. The damaged bones, they found, had knit into an apparently solid mass-with the fingers half-curled, only slight flexure to them; the left hand was a rigid club. But now the thumb could grip against those fingers, and she could exert pressure with the hand as a whole. Freer of pain, and rested, Jenise became more lively and talkative-no longer sitting gaunt-faced and silent, in seeming reproach to the others' efforts to raise their spirits. And one evening-and then another, and afterward quite often-she and Hagen went in the cave while the rest sat outside, and Lisele heard sounds much like those Rissa made with Tregare.

  Was the rain still getting heavier? Tregare thought so; others disagreed. Rissa noted a cyclic pattern, slacking off at night for a time and pouring harder in the mornings. Since outdoors was wet all the time, Lisele didn't see what difference the details made.

  She was slogging back from the latrine to the cave. The facility itself was roofed, but not the twenty meters of path leading to it. The thing was set downhill from the cave and a little to the right-downriver, to avoid polluting their water supply.

  Reaching the lean-to, Lisele turned before the fire until she was fairly dry, before putting her clothes back on. Being naked in the rain was chilly now, but skin dried faster than clothes did.

  Near one of the lean-to's outer corners, a plastic vat sat open. As Rissa came out of the cave, Lisele wrinkled her nose at the vat's stench. "I know it'll help, if you can tan the skins from those little whales, but it doesn't smell like this batch is working."

  Rissa shrugged. "I hoped this type of bark contained enough tannin, but apparently not. Next I will try the outer layers from the roots Sevshen gathered." She covered the vat. "When someone is here to help, I will take this past the latrine and dump it."

  Rissa wasn't hinting; they both knew Lisele could barely lift one end of the thing, let alone help carry it. The girl said, "Where is everybody?"

  163

  "The Shrakken are with Tregare, gathering firewood. Hagen and Jenise went to the river to check their nets."

  "How's the vegetable supply? Should I go look for more?"

  "Not today. I have put the present store to cooking, before it molds, and that will last us two or three days."

  "Then I guess I'll go inside for a while. Unless there's something else I could do." Smiling, Rissa shook her head, so Lisele climbed the steps and went to sit on her pallet. She might as well practice alpha meditation; it would help pass this boring time.

  A time came when everyone agreed the rain was really easing off. Rissa, using the roots she had mentioned, did produce usable leather. It smelled awful, but didn't rot or crumble. With plastic thread, Lisele sewed herself a pair of moccasins and then measured everyone's feet and made each person a gift pair. The humans, that was-the toe-walking Shrakken didn't use footwear.

  Almost as abruptly as it had begun, the rain stopped; one night, Lisele woke to silence. Next day's rain was light and intermittent; the group began sorting stores, and packing. On the following day, they saw the sun.

  At dinner, Hagen Trent said, "Do we start off tomorrow, if we're ready by then, or give the footing more chance to dry?"

  Brows raised, Tregare looked around the circle. Rissa said, "Not tomorrow, I would think. For two days, perhaps three, let us observe how quickly the ground dries. When the improvement looks good to us, is time enough to go."

  Rorvik nodded, her short blonde hair flopping with the motion. "If we try to move too soon, I think we'd lose more in the long run. That slippy-sliding on mud takes it out of you, fast."

  Tregare nodded. "I think you're both right. So that's how we'll do it." And on the fourth morning, they set out.

  Descending the hill, rounding its flank to go upriver, Lisele stopped and looked back at the lean-to, hiding the cave's entrance. From the morning's fire, smoke still rose. She sighed.

  Pausing beside her, Tregare said, "Something the matter?"

  "Not really. But we lived there-how long? And, you know-except for being so wet all the time, it wasn't such a bad place."

  He laughed. "With the right people, and a little work to make things comfortable, no place is. Let's go."

  XVIII. Ivan

  Nobody liked Ivan's announcement much, when he made it. The idea that on Shaarbant years were passing while the Deux spent mere weeks in space-by its own clocks-dampened spirits. But as Ivan said, "You can't argue with Einstein. Nobody can, except maybe Pennet Hoyfarul, and he's not here." He heard Crowfoot's laugh, and a snicker that sounded like Melaine Holmbach, so maybe he'd broken the tension a little. He said, then, "Everybody's doing the best they can. That's good enough for me." Clinking sounds indicated that Dacia was breaking out drinks for the group; a cold glass came against his knuckles and he picked it up and sipped from it. Bourbon, a little ice. "Thanks, Dacia."

  "Welcome."

  He sipped again. Talk buzzed around him: nothing important, so he quit listening and retreated mostly into his own mind. Where the worries ahead awaited him-but he couldn't afford to wrangle with them, not yet. And the worries behind, the past ones, were over and done. ("Unless you have a time machine in your back pocket, Rissa...") Suddenly he laughed, bringing the discussion to momentary halt, until he said, "A chance thought; don't heed me."

  But the mood was broken; the group began to disperse. Ivan heard the leave-takings and departing footsteps; when he figured that only Dacia remained with him in their quarters, he spoke her name. She said, "Yes, Ivan. They're gone now."

  "Then-" Is there time for us? he wanted to ask, because somehow lately there hadn't been much.

  "Ivan," she began. But then the alarms rang, the extension from Control, and they had to hurry upship.

  164

  165

  By now he didn't need a great deal of guidance, but to make speed it did help.

  Anders had the watch; Ivan knew that, and on entering Control was greeted by Kobolak's voice. "It's a ship, Captain. Passing at an angle, not in the same plane with us. No possibility of intercept, either way." Skew meeting, yes.

  Ignoring the question of which side of ninety degrees the courses converged--because it didn't matter-Ivan said, "Whose?" No answer. Irritated, he raised his voice. "Damn all, Anders! Out here, that ship can't be human. Is it Shrakken or is it Tsa?"

  Low-voiced, Kobolak answered. "I-I can't be sure. I never got a good look at either."

  Ivan bit back his response. Hell, the man was right! He said, "Estimate closest approach?"

  "Yes. One moment." And shortly the First Hat read off numbers that brought relief to Ivan Marchant. Whoever might be on that passing ship, it couldn't come close enough to affect the minds aboard Inconnu Deux.

  No point in hiding his relieved sigh, so he didn't. "Thanks, First Hat. This time, whoever's out there, we're safe enough."

  He turned toward the soft sound of Dacia's breathing, then thought of something else and put his blind gaze to Kobolak's position. "That ship's course. Any clues where it came from, where it's going?"

  Sounding calm now, Anders said, "Nothing connected to human space. The course is nearly right-angled to the way we came out here."

  Ivan shrugged. "Then I guess we can forget it." Well, it made sense. Nothing said that everything in space had to relate to Inconnu Deux. And some things wouldn't. "Thanks."

  Again he turned to Dacia. "All that bourbon calls for a little coffee. Join me?" She came and grasped his arm, and they went down to the galley, where she left him at their usual table and brought the coffee plus a few light rolls. Relaxing, Ivan nibbled the yeasty biscuits, now and then dunking the edge of one into hot coffee. Lacking sight, he was learning to make the most of other senses. Might as well, he thought.

  He still had on his mind the same idea as before the alarm had rung. So when he declined Dacia's offer of a second refill on coffee, Ivan said, "Your next watch is some hours away? You suppose we might have time for us?''

  166

  Her indrawn breath sounded a bit shocked. "Ivan! Can't we discuss these things in more privacy?"

  "I didn't hear anyone sitting around close." And he hadn't,

  "That's not the point. I-"

  "You're right," said Ivan. "Let's go downship."

  Descending, holding Dacia's arm for quick guidance, Ivan wondered whether maybe he had his head on backwards. Because the problem with sex, lately, had very little to do with Dacia; it was that he, Ivan, was so wound up with worries and couldn't seem to unload them. They would go to bed, the two of them, and begin all the nice playing around, and then when it came to cases he'd find that his mind had betrayed him. His thoughts would be back to Shaarbant and his body might as well be there, too, for all the good it was doing him-not to mention Dacia's feelings.

  But for better or worse, this ship's day had brought a diversion, and bourbon wasn't all that bad an idea, and Shaarbant could wait.

  So when they entered captain's digs he held onto Dacia's arm and said, "Can we skip all the niceties? Just make love? Please?"

  Her voice trembled, a little but not much. "I guess so, Ivan."

  "Good." And the clothes came off, seams ripping a little with the force of Dacia's help. Peace take me, it's all working!

  And for both of them, apparently. Ivan hadn't known that Dacia could talk and bite at the same time, but she certainly could.

  Ivan had never understood that triste stuff; sex didn't sadden him, it energized him. He'd have liked to nap with Dacia for a time but felt too restless; after a parting kiss he dressed and went up to Control. He arrived just in time to hear Ellalee relieving Alina at the comm-panel, so by the roster in his mind he knew that Crowfoot would be taking over from Anders Kobolak. Ivan spoke a general hello, heard the four answers and then the departures of Anders and Alina.

  He found his way to the backup pilot's position, sat, arid turned to face Ellalee. "How's the pilot training coming along?" He knew she'd begun the learning program, using Crowfoot's simulations, but he hadn't checked on it recently.

  "I'm none too certain," and something in the voice made

  167

  him visualize her shrug. "To start me off easy, Jeremy rigged sims in the scout, too, I suppose you know." He hadn't. "So when he decided I had those simpler controls down bonzer, he moved me up to trying the ship itself. Those programs, you'll recall, are rigged to where you're sitting now. But as to how I'm doing at it, Jeremy hasn't truly said yet."

  Ivan turned toward Crowfoot. "Any problems, Jere?"

  "None at all," and in the answer Ivan detected no hesitation. "Sorry if I haven't given enough feedback, Ellalee. You learn well, make few mistakes and are gaining in proficiency. All you need now, I'd say, is to keep practicing."

  "And I surely will."

  "What's she best at, now?" Ivan asked. "And what not?"

  After a pause, Crowfoot said, "Good fast reactions, good judgment in choosing and executing maneuvers. That's the strong part."

  "And the weak?"

  "Just what you might expect, I suppose. The things a trainee can't really master without some experience in actual ship handling, to get the feel of a vessel." For a moment, Ivan thought he'd have to ask again, to get a solid answer. But then Crowfoot said, "Well, simulated landings, of course."

  With a brief laugh, Ivan relaxed. "Then that's all right. Nobody would expect a green hand to do a landing without actual flight training-and whatever else happens, a landing while we're under Tsa attack won't be one of them. And Ellalee's ability to resist the Tsa is why she's training."

  The woman's chuckle indicated release of tension. "Since it's not been tested all that much, let's hope we don't need it."

  Confiding in no one else, Ivan considered Dacia's reports of the dwindling food inventory. With only a rough guess as to the ship's clock-time remaining before they could reach Shaarbant, he tended to think conservatively. Eventually, after one confab with Dacia, he called assembly and put the question.

  "For obvious reasons, we need a food reserve. At our current rate of chow down, with eight of us eating, we won't have that reserve."

  Melaine Holmbach's voice. "You want some of us back in freeze?"

  He shook his head. "Not really. We're few enough now, for company, and our human need of it."

  "Then what?" Ranee Peleter: not sounding belligerent, just asking.

  168

  "A choice," said Ivan. "Majority rules. Either two go into freeze, or we cut rations by twenty-five percent. You choose which we do."

  "That's fair," said Jeremy Crowfoot. "For freeze, though- who do you have in mind? Or have you made that decision?"

  He had. Crowfoot himself, for one. And the other-Anders wouldn't like it, but Alina was next most expendable to the ship's operation. But, grinning, Ivan shook his head. "You're asking me to influence the vote. I won't do that,"

  So he got the result he wanted: eight-to-zerch, the group voted for the short-rations option.

  One more passing ship, they spotted-on Crowfoot's watch, this one, and much too far away for identification. Its course, nearly parallel to the Deux's but diverging slightly, gave no clue to origin or destination. The two ships' velocities were so nearly matched that the vague, flickering dot hung on the main screen for more than half a day, drifting too slowly for the motion to be seen. Consensus was that due to the relative course angles, the other probably hadn't spotted the Deux at all. "Which suits me just fine," said Ivan Marchant.

  Then, once again, space around the ship was empty except for stars, none of them near enough to show a disk. How far, still, to Shaarbant? Ivan wished he knew.

  XIX. Lisele

  For a long time the country stayed

  pretty much the same. By the time the heat got bad again, they were nearing the mountain range-or its foothills, anyway. The river branched once more, and then again, until it wasn't much more than a large stream they followed.

  The underbrush thinned, and the trees; it became safe to travel for a time after dark and before daylight. As the ground

  169

  rose, they found that while the heat increased as badly as ever in the afternoons, at night the air cooled drastically.

  Stonzai was the first to see one of the big reddish-brown animals; by the time the rest looked to her pointing, they saw only a patch of color disappearing behind a ridge. Not long after, though, they saw another, drinking from the stream. It had long, powerful legs and a heavy tail; its head, except for the large, upright ears, reminded Lisele of a bear's. As it left the stream, it picked up something in its mouth and carried it away.

  "A dead animal, it had," said Tregare. "Carnivore, is it, or scavenger?" But the next beast they saw was grazing, and he shrugged. "Sooner or later, I guess we'll find out." Two days later, Stonzai surprised one of the creatures; after pausing and making a trumpeting noise, it charged her. So she shot it. Stomach contents were a mix of animal and vegetable matter. "Omnivore," was the verdict.

  At any rate the meat was edible without boiling, though a little strong to the taste. But as Rissa reminded the others, "Because we eat these native plants and animals without apparent harm, it does not mean that we may not be accumulating trace poisons, over a period of time."

  Tregare made a mock frown. "You trying to spoil my appetite? You don't have to; there's plenty of dinner to go around."

  The heat grew to fill more of each day, shortening travel. When they were barely into the mountains, far short of the higher parts and now forced to stop moving before noon, Tregare called halt.

  "We won't make it over the top, not on this run. So we'd better look for a place to set camp." He waved toward the stream, here less than two meters wide, though still better than knee-deep. "We go much higher, pass another fork or two, maybe we're stuck with a trickle that dries up altogether when the heat does its worst." He looked around. "Comments?"

  "A stop place find we, yes," said Stonzai, and asked if Tregare meant right now, this very day.

  "Soon as we can, I'd say. Judging from last year, once the heat turns up this far, it gets unbearable in a real hurry."

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30