Alien debt, p.24
Alien Debt, page 24
part #5 of The Long View Series
"They're nibbling," Tregare said, and Lisele saw one of the little decimeter-long things jerk and tug, and pull away a minuscule shred. Tregare knelt on the sandbar, motioned for Rissa to bring the meat nearer, and cupped his hand. On the third try he caught one of the tiny swimmers, and held it up for all to see. The mouth opened and closed; Tregare explored it with a finger, and grinned. "Not much bite," he said. "About like a young trout, on Earth."
So the humans undressed. Hagen and Tregare went in first; there was room for both, but not much left over. They ducked their heads under, scrubbed themselves with bare hands and then with sand, and came out laughing. Then, with Rissa and Jenise, Lisele had her turn. The fee! of the cold water was delicious; even when her teeth chattered, she stayed until Rissa called a halt, and came out reluctantly.
"Wash us also, will we," said Stonzai. The two Shrakken shed their usual harnesslike garb and entered the pool. Side by side they lay; then, slowly and in unison, they submerged their heads and began to roll over in the water. Each time their faces came uppermost, they raised them for a quick breath. For
178
washing they used their hands not at all, but merely let the water lave them as they turned. After what seemed a long time, both sat up, looked at each other and made hissing noises. Then they got out, and walked through the trees and out of sight into the brush. Except for Stonzai's picking up her needle-gun, they were unencumbered.
Well, there's a new ritual," said Tregare. "New to us, I mean."
Trent chuckled. "I think they're off on a date."
"Do we have to hold lunch for them?" asked Jenise. She was smiling, and it struck Lisele how different the woman was, from the whining cripple who had left the scout with them. Without paying close attention, it was hard to notice any difficulties with the maimed hand. Now she gestured with it. "I'm really hungry!"
"Since we're cold-snacking," Tregare said, "I wouldn't think we need to wait. I hope they don't stay out too long, is all. On account of it'd be nice to make a lot more distance today."
Before the two returned, he was fretting, but Lisele used the time for another dip in the pool. When the aliens had eaten, the group donned packs and waded the creek at a shallow run of rapids. By nightfall they were well into the next, lower range of foothills.
In the next few days, before the coastal plain came fully into view, they surmounted two more such ranges. They reached the crest of the last one shortly before sunset, and decided to camp there. While dinner cooked, Lisele noticed a steep knoll, the nearest high ground, topped by a tall straight tree. Nudging Tregare, she pointed. "From up there I could get a good scan. Anything special you'd like me to look for?"
For a moment he looked startled; then he nodded. In the soft bare dirt he drew lines. "Two rivers that come together about like this; Sassden's at the junction. We'd see it, here, from about this angle, I think." She watched his gesture and nodded. Then, checking her needle-gun for full load, she set out to climb the knoll.
At the top she paused for breath-the slope was steep-and surveyed the tree. To catch the lowest branch she had to jump, but then she swung up and climbed with fair ease. She didn't look away yet-time for that, when she was as high as she could go.
She got higher than she expected; twice she had to halt and get her breath. Then the trunk and branches thinned enough that
179
her movements made the whole thing wobble. All right; far enough. Time to do some looking.
She knew, from riding aircars, that seeing a piece of country at a slant was different from looking straight down on it. Now she squinted at a flat angle to the far terrain, into the setting sun, and tried to make out any features at all, let alone Tregare's two rivers. She saw red glare of sun, soft green foliage brilliantly backlit at this hour, shadows she couldn't interpret. And far out on the plain, a great patch of mist. Past it, something now glittered and then didn't, the pattern repeating. Ocean? From Sassden they hadn't seen it, but this place was higher, with nothing much in the way. Yes, she decided finally. She couldn't judge the distance, but sure as peace that was ocean sparkling at her.
She brought her gaze back to the mist; nothing definite, there. Nearer, she looked-and briefly two bright curving lines flashed at her, then disappeared. She slitted her eyes, fixed on that area and waited. Again the flashes came, and then-maybe due to cloud movement-steadied to a lesser brightness but remained. Yes-Tregare's rivers, and for a moment she saw where they met. His direction-guess had been a little off, but not badly.
With thumb and forefinger she gauged the angle between that junction and the sun's setting point; to clinch it she measured the separation on her other hand. AH right; she wouldn't lose it now.
She looked again, over the entire oddly-angled landscape. More shadows grew; the sun was close to gone; she saw no new features. Time to get down, while the light held. For the first time she looked to the ground below, and was surprised at the height she'd reached. Slowly, she began her descent.
It seemed longer than the climb had; hunger always made her tired, and fatigue fostered carelessness. This was no place for sloppy work. So with slow caution she made her way to the ground, and then downhill to the night's camp.
Trent was serving a hot stew. His cooking had improved a lot, since the scoutship days. Lisele took her kit and sat between Tregare and Rissa, and told them what she'd seen.
Tregare had her demonstrate the finger-angle, duplicated it with his own hand, and measured off from the spot where sun-glow made twilight brightest. Then he nodded. "The notch across there, with the clump of trees in it. That's our line of march." Making the same test, Lisele agreed. Then, while the
180
others talked, she ate in silence. Thinking, he didn't compliment me any. She smiled. Because he knows I don't need it. Then his arm hugged her shoulders, and she decided that a little appreciation didn't hurt, after all!
Later, in full dark except for stars and two tiny moons, with the fire down to embers, Lisele lay breathing deeply, and sleep came.
Terror woke her-thunder above and Hearing, coming down on them. Someone keened a wail that hurt her ears-Stonzai? No human, surely. A thick curse; she couldn't tell if the mumble was Tregare or Hagen. Rissa, sharply: "Do not know who it is. Do not! As Tregare said-" The voice trailed into a moan, and pain clawed into Lisele's head.
Up and running downhill, unable to see, she grazed a tree and caromed off another, fell and rose and ran through brush that raked skin as the other thing raked inside her mind. She heard little noises from her mouth but couldn't stop making them. Sensing, now, rather than seeing obstacles, she avoided them; she knew they were there in the same way she knew something hunted her. She kept running, while part of her mind wondered how and why she could do it.
The thing found her! Her sensing failed; a great blow came as she crashed into something and tasted blood and fell flat and rolled aside, curling up small so there'd be less of her to hurt. Inside her head blazed agony; outside, a crashing impact shook the ground.
She couldn't take any more. With one deep breath she sought escape, mind-stop, the nirvana of the alpha state.
Near the edge of consciousness she felt the claws hesitate and leave her mind. Without volition her slow, trained breathing continued-not enough, after that exhausting headlong run, to give her full awareness. Suspended between sleep and waking she lay without thought. In her mind, pictures flashed, and feelings-but before she could recognize them, they vanished.
After a time she calmed, near to normal sleep but still able to maintain the alpha state that had saved her. Hours passed; she stayed unmoving. She knew she should get up, find her way back-but she couldn't, yet.
It was when she'd decided she had to try, that she heard the shuffling and felt the mind-touch. She froze her thought-deep breaths, no cognition-and waited. Then something picked her up, something warm and dry. And she felt herself carried farther down the hill.
XX. Elzh
Long away now, the ship from
nothing, with Elzh left to mourn the two Tsa ships the thing had killed. Only three remaining, Elzh had, and one damaged, not able to rise to follow Tsa-Drin directive. For long it sat, far around planet-curve from mindbeast places, while Tsa worked to make it again useful. Elzh with two good ships could not leave hurt one behind; Tsa-Drin or no, Tsa would not abandon Tsa on mindbeast world. As correct, thought Elzh-understood, or not understood.
Two ships, able. Not enough to give this beastworld death. To wait, then. Heal third ship and follow those gone to next world of Tsa-Drin chart. To wait-and to learn, always.
And face mindbeasts in some and other time. One beast ship came from distance, defied Tsa for short time only and went chased away without chance to bespeak this world. And from ground here, beastships made bid to rise-once, twice and again. But dropped back when met by Elzh's two. And the way one dropped, it would not rise more.
Healing of Elzh's third ship was slow and slow. Other two, except for now and ever landing to add supplies, kept orbit several world-cycles, to use least fuel. Then joined the third, on ground, to use none at all. Drone tankers, orbiting outer planet, must be conserved. If beastships rose, though, or came from distance, Tsa ships lay ready. As correct, as understood.
And now again, from distance, came beastship.
181
XXI. Ivan
On Inconnu Deux, time passed-
roughly, one day for twenty of Earth's or two dozen of Shaarbant's. Finally, watching the far-range detectors, Jeremy Crowfoot spotted Shaarbant's sun ahead.
In Control, Ivan called council; from his drive-room post, Peleter attended by intercom. "Let's get to it," Ivan said. "Tregare's plan hinged on our getting out and back in a hurry, with FTL-drive working fully. Seeming to escape, then flashing back out of super-C when the Tsa didn't expect us. Instead we've been gone for several Shaarbant-years, and can't be sure how many-and we're sub-light and limping. So it's a whole new ball game." He caught himself thumb-twiddling, and stopped. "Open for good ideas."
Alina Rostadt said that without the Hoyfarul Drive working, if they followed Tregare's plan they'd be three months, objective time, getting back again. Anders Kobolak said that if they slowed to a quarter-C, maybe even an eighth, they could make the intended punitive pass and still be too fast to catch. Dacia pointed out that any sub-light approach to Shaarbant left the Deux detectable, going in. Jeremy Crowfoot didn't consider that problem too serious; the Tsa might get ships up to intercept, but how much could they do against something passing at a quarter-C?
Fine discussion, Ivan thought-until Dacia had to shoot it down. He'd left that part to her, and was glad she didn't wait too long before speaking up. "Let's forget all the fly-by options," she said, "because we can't afford any of them,"
Ivan wished he could see how people took Dacia's words, because this was only the first of several jolts the group would get, soon. He also wished he could remember who knew what,
. 182
183
but he couldn't. Now Alina said, "You're saying we're low on
fuel?"
No such thing, Dacia assured everybody; if necessary, the Deux could get itself back to Earth. "Not us with it, though- not alive. That's the crunch, shipmates. We're low on food."
Protest was loud; Ivan lost patience and outshouted everybody. "Doesn't anybody on here, besides Dacia, monitor the inventory readouts?" Silence; Ivan nodded. "Then listen to her."
What Dacia told was what she and Ivan had agreed on, and all true. "We have to have a plan," she said, after much talk, "that lets us land on Shaarbant now, or-"
"Or what!" Ivan couldn't identify the voice.
He spoke, anyway. "Or get us somewhere else, safely."
New discussion; in this one, Ivan had more to say. "Tregare, he's holed-up somewhere on Shaarbant. I hope." And Rissa, and Lisele, yes. "If we can get down there and find him, in touch with the Shrakken if they've survived, maybe we can put something together, to fight the Tsa." He heard murmurs, and spoke up to override them. "The Tsa aren't automatically invincible; from what little we know, numbers count, too." He banged a fist down. "I blew two Tsa ships out of space. Escaping Shaarbant. If we can hook up with the Shrakken on that world, through Tregare, maybe we've got a chance here."
"I'm not sure this is a good question, but it puzzles me." Peleter's quiet voice. "Why didn't we try that the first time?"
"Because we didn't know enough," Ivan said. Peleter was a good man, he reminded himself; no point in getting exasperated. "Tregare wanted the ship safe at all costs; his idea sounded good and it was good. We'd never been under Tsa attack, and what did happen was something nobody could have predicted. But now we're stuck with it, and have to work with what we've got."
"Plus the rest of the crew," said Melaine Holmbach, but her voice trailed off. "Oh-of course. If we're short of food..."
"Right." Ivan nodded. "If we knew we could land and resupply, we'd rouse them. As it is-" He shrugged. "Too many question marks." And if they couldn't land, if the Tsa were too strong and drove them off? Ivan knew that answer, too-everybody into freeze, including himself, except for Anders. And leave it to the First Hat to get them to Stenevo, and hope the Shrakken there would parley instead of shooting them out of space.
184
He knew the answers, yes. That didn't mean he liked them. He smiled toward Dacia. "Let's just hope we can land."
They talked longer. Ellalee referred back to the Tsa mental attack. "They caught me cold, before-it was like running a footrace with my knickers down around my ankles." Her quick cough hinted of shyness. "But y'know-if it fits the planning any way, I wouldn't mind another go at those blokes."
Ivan said he'd think on it; certainly, nothing else new was corning out of the discussion. A vague idea worked in the back of his mind, but wouldn't come clear. Finally Anders said, ,"I think we've got all of it. What's your decision, Captain?"
Ivan turned his blind stare toward the voice. "Tactically? To think, a time longer; there has to be more to it. How soon must we set decel, to choose our course and our approach speed?"
He heard readout tape click out. "Two days, a little less," said Kobolak. "When I get firmer distance readings I'll give you the time more exactly."
"Right; thanks." He swung to face the entire group in turn. "Thank you all, in fact. When I reach a decision, you'll be advised."
He stood, went to the galley and dished up some soup. He heard Dacia follow, but he no longer needed guidance. When he ate, he used the spoon without spilling. Learning such things had been hard, and though he knew it might be a little childish of him, he thoroughly enjoyed showing that he could do them.
Later, in quarters, as he sipped beer and talked with Dacia, his vague idea took form. Instead of a straightforward approach to Shaarbant, what if they went diving in as if for a sling turn? "Set to point us toward Stenevo's coordinates, if it comes up we have to go through with it."
"Why Stenevo?" Then, "Oh, of course. We came here to help the Shrakken, so-"
He nodded. "If we can't do it here, we'll do it there. But if the odds look good, or we can improve them any, we go decel and land." The tension was getting to him, though-all the waiting, and now the need to decide. He had some time, yet, to reconsider. But to use it well, he'd have to be more relaxed.
Dacia suggested they go to bed for a while; he said she must have been reading his mind. When they got up, without asking his preference she poured him bourbon over ice in place of the beer he'd been nursing. Tasting it, he smiled. "Don't know what
185
I'd do without you." And somehow it no longer hurt him to admit it.
They talked late, coming back to old ideas when new ones turned out to be blind alleys. Then, in the middle of discussing a variation on the sling approach, Ivan stopped. "Wait a minute. I think-" Then he nodded. "As far as the Shrakken know, the Tsa don't have scoutships. We still have one aboard."
"Ivan! You have a way-?"
"Not yet. But it's a wild card, the only one I can think of. I don't know just how to use it, but there's time to figure something."
He drained his glass and held it up. "Pour me another?"
Waking, Ivan decided he hadn't drunk enough to hang him over. He felt good. Hearing no sound of Dacia, he got up and lumbered to the intercom, and called the galley. She was there.
"I haven't eaten yet, Ivan. Jeremy and I are drinking coffee, working up an appetite. Shall I bring two trays down?"
"No, thanks-but if you want to fill them, that's fine. Heavy with the eggs on mine, please. I'll be right up." His shower was sketchy; he put on the first shirt and trousers and sandals he happened to find. He hadn't worn his skipper's hat for some time and he didn't bother with it now, either. Going upship he practiced taking the steps two at a time, fingers on handrail for guidance.
