Singer from the Sea (45 page)

“Tell it you need lay language,” barked the tech, without looking up.

Aufors told it, somewhat self-consciously, and the screen changed its message:
Substance is proprietary to Galaxo-pharm, trademark Unforz. Purpose is euphoric, sedative, relaxant. Effective on most mammalian life forms. Typical uses: by surgeon to allay apprehension in patient; by zookeeper, to handle deadly or delicate creatures during transport or prolonged handling; by wardens transporting dangerous criminals.

“Out here, Colonel!” snapped the Captain. “Here they come.”

Aufors emerged from the cubicle in time to see the screens erupt with dark blotches. Loosing his own light weapon in its holster, he made for the ramp to see what he had been too distracted to see when he came in. Halfway up the ramp stood a crewman, a line leading from his hand to a latch at the base of the nearest anchor rope, a latch which had replaced the knotted tie he had seen there previously. It took only a glance to confirm that all the latches were connected to the single line.

The man at the rope cast a glance in Aufors’s direction, then knelt behind the railing, out of sight of the robed men pouring over the dunes, blades glittering, voices raised in wild ululations. Without warning, the cannoneers in the nacelle began shooting: soundless, invisible blasts that exploded into sequin showers, like sparks from a poked campfire, though where these sparks fell they were followed by cries of fury or pain.

From inside, the doctor cried, “Colonel. A message from the town. Your wife, she’s fled from assassins. The Shah has her father!”

Aufors ran up the ramp. The doctor stood just inside the door, chewing his lips and combing his hair into disarray with unsteady hands.

Aufors demanded, “Genevieve fled where? Is she coming here?”

The doctor shook his head, eyes widely fixed on the battle outside. “Don’t know. That’s the message the corn-man just got from the residence. He’s trying to find out …”

A reduction in the sound level made Aufors turn toward the ramp once more. On one side the remaining attackers were floundering up the nearest dunes, in full retreat. Whatever their plan had been, it had gone awry, for they surely hadn’t meant to leave all those charred bodies upon the sand. Those attacking from the other side were not yet convinced, and the bow gunner swung his weapon in that direction.

“Didn’t they know we had cannon?” the doctor asked
in a frantic voice. “Should I go out and see to the wounded?”

“Do nothing of the kind,” snapped Aufors, on his way to the control room. “Stay where you are. There’s still battle going on out there.”

As it did, for some time, though with decreasing violence. Finally, though the tech went on twisting dials and tapping buttons, the Captain, hovering behind him, could see only a few shadows remaining behind dunes, moving little if at all. Wounded, most likely. Or dying.

“Can you spare half a dozen men?” Aufors demanded.

“If it is your aim to bring the Prince safely to the ship, yes.”

“By the deepsea!” cried Aufors. “It’s my aim to bring whoever’s left at the residence!”

“Go! Go!” grated the Captain. “We’re here at the Prince’s command. We shouldn’t leave unless commanded by the Prince, but he cannot command if he cannot reach us!”

“Message those at the residence to come out by the desert door, and have your cannoneers cover their retreat….” Aufors’s voice trailed off as he went out again, picking half a dozen men with weapons from those muttering in the way and leading them down the ramp, where he put them into rough formation, well spread out and with the calmest of them guarding the rear.

They trudged toward the city, those at the rear walking mostly backwards. It was both impossible and foolish to run on the shifting surface, but the slow trudge gave them entirely too much time to think. Or, so Aufors felt. Why had they heard nothing from the Prince? From Genevieve’s father? Why had no one said anything about Dovidi? Genevieve wouldn’t have left him! Therefore … what?

It did no good to wonder. He would find them or he would not. The thought was one he often resorted to in battle. This time it did no good. A distant shout brought his eyes up, and he saw a man plunging outward from the guard post outside the residence doorway. He was immediately followed by others, and in a moment Aufors could identify them all: three household servants, one steward-cum-guard,
the cook, the cook’s helper, and lastly the communications man who had kept them in touch with the ship.

When this man came abreast of Aufors he stopped for a moment, gasping, “The place is empty, Colonel. No point in going any nearer. I’ve followed the protocol and triggered the devices in the com-room. All the off-world stuff’ll go up in a few moments …”

Aufors grasped him by the arm. “By the deepsea, man! My son! Where’s my son?”

“Be easy, Colonel. He’s out of there. The old woman took him, that malghaste. She showed him to me as she went by. She said he’d be safe, no one would look among them so long as you didn’t mention who took him, not to anyone.”

Aufors turned, and they trotted toward the ship. “To anyone?” He gave the man a piercing look.

“I’m safe, sir. If anyone asks, anyone at all, I’ll say your wife took him when she went. I owe her that much and more. We’d have been dead meat if she hadn’t warned us as she went out …”

“Went where?” Aufors demanded. “Where could she go?”

“Down, sir. She went down into the cellars and away. That’s the way the old woman went, as well. I don’t know how she knew there was a way out down there, your wife, I mean….”

“I know how she knew. What I don’t know is where I’m to find her. Or Dovidi.”

“I can’t tell you, sir. All the old woman said was, tell the Colonel to be patient, keep his mouth shut—pardon me, sir, but I’m just quoting what she said—for his son is safe with the malghaste.” He turned to look over his shoulder. “Hadn’t we better get a move on, sir?”

Men were massing at the city gate. Aufors picked up his pace and they slogged toward the ship under the Cyclopean gaze of the nearest cannon. Though the crowd at the gate grew larger, no one came after them.

“Why did she run?” asked Aufors.

“Somehow, she knew they were coming. The assassins.”
He laughed, a little wildly. “I wish she’d given us more notice.”

“The place was attacked?”

“Oh, they attacked right enough. If she hadn’t warned me, they’d have overrun the place, but as it was, she barred the outer door and I got the city door barred just before they came hammering at it. I put a man on the roof, to watch, and he said they were bringing ladders down the street just when the message came to get out. They’ll be in over the roof by now …”

His words were lost in a crumping noise that shook the soil beneath them and made them stagger. Over their shoulders they saw the gatehouse disappear behind a cloud of dust and smoke that spewed through the opening in the city wall. The crowd outside the city gate howled.

“The Prince?” cried the Captain from the ramp top.

“He wasn’t there, sir,” answered the com-man. “He’d gone off with the Invigilator, hunting …”

As they came up the ramp, the crowd at the city gate screamed itself into a frenzied attack. The man at the slip line tugged it loose and followed them inside where the Captain had men waiting to pull the ramp aboard. As the ship wallowed sluggishly upward under its slowly inflating balloon, they looked down onto the approaching mob, now a sea of blades waving impotently as the ship ascended to the slow hiss of gas being released into the huge bags. Behind the dunes, no one moved, though a few huddled forms still lay there.

The Captain tallied the men aboard and reported to Aufors. “All here but the Prince, the Invigilator, the Marshal, and two guards.”

“And my wife and child,” snapped Aufors. “I can’t believe this attack. It makes no sense at all!”

“You’ll have to make some sense of it, Colonel, for you are now in command,” said the Captain through his teeth.

The com-man from the residence had his head out a port, watching the confused mob below. Aufors grasped his shoulder and pushed him into a seat, then sat across from him and demanded, “Tell me everything that happened after I left. Every detail!”

The man rubbed his head and took a deep breath. “I
guess the first thing was a messenger came from the Shah to invite you and the Prince and the Invigilator to go hunting with His Effulgence.”

“Me?” snarled Aufors. “By name?”

“You, sir. By name. Or rank, rather. The Colonel, that’s what the man said. Well, you were out here at the ship. The messenger said they could wait until you returned, but the Prince said he could do without you quite nicely. He was a bit miffed, sir, them asking for you along with him and the Invigilator. Anyhow, off the two of them went with the Shah’s man—”

“Out of which door?” demanded Aufors.

“The desert door, sir. I stood there with the guard, while he mounted and rode out onto the sands. Well, he was no sooner gone than another messenger came to the city door, to invite the lady to walk in the garden again.”

“Aha,” said Aufors.

“Does this mean something?” the Captain asked.

“It would seem they were picking us off a few at a time, wouldn’t it?” Aufors grated. Then, to his informant, “Go on. What next?”

“Let’s see, sir. Ah. I guess the next thing was the Marshal agreed your lady would go. Since the baby-tender was out here with you, the Marshal took the man who was off duty and set him down next the baby. Baby went to sleep. Meantime, your lady was getting herself dressed.”

“When was this?”

“Not long after you left. Well, she was soon dressed, but the escort didn’t come for her. No one came. Well, you know the Marshal, sir. He waits on no man, and he was soon thundering about full of bloody bedamn this and bloody bedamn that, putting on quite a show …”

Aufors whispered, “A show? You felt he was acting?”

The com-man paused, mouth open. “Now you mention it, sir. Yes. He was, and in no time at all he said he was going off to the palace to find out the arrangements. He went by the street door, and he took the other two guards with him.”

Aufors blinked slowly, not giving voice to his fury. He
had always admired the Marshal’s skills, but it seemed to him now that off the battlefield, the man was an idiot.

The com-man read his face. “Well, I knew you were wondering, sir, just how it was we didn’t have the outer doors covered. Well, the Marshal and the men weren’t long gone when your lady was warned, somehow, that they were coming for her.”

“But not for a garden walk,” Aufors said bleakly.

“No, sir. So, she went by me shouting to bar the door and message the ship. I saw the way she went, then I did what she said, barred the door and sent the message. Then I checked the door through the city wall. That one was barred, no doubt by your lady, sir, for she told me to get the other one. While I was there, the old woman came down the stairs and went by me with the child, as I’ve said, and went through toward the kitchen. The man who’d been baby-tending was behind her, and I told him to stay by the door while I followed her as far as the way down and out, then I got back to the com. By that time, everyone was gathered in one place, outside the com-room, and when I got your message to evacuate, I set the charges in the com-room and got everyone out.”

“How did the Marchioness know they intended harm?” the Captain asked.

The com-man replied, “It had to be the old woman, Captain, Colonel. Who else? And if the Shah had wanted the two of you to begin with, Colonel, it would explain the two attacks, both out here and on the residence. Stands to reason it was you they were after. They already had Delganor, the Invigilator, and the Marshal.”

“They miscalculated,” said the Captain.

“They and we,” Aufors said. “Because of failed intelligence, Captain. We didn’t know they intended to pick us off. They didn’t know about the cannon or your off-world detectors. We didn’t know they were after me or Genevieve, and they didn’t know Genevieve would be warned. Why they wanted her is a mystery to me, unless it has to do with all their nonsense about women, but why did they want me? They already had the Prince.”

“My judgment would be that they can’t use the Prince for what they have in mind,” said the Captain in a dead,
cold voice. “I’ve been here before, Colonel. On one occasion, a few years back, an officer of my crew was cut into pieces and left at the bottom of the ramp, merely, so the Prince said, to make a point. Perhaps they felt they needed to make another point.”

“To the Prince?” asked Aufors. “And you think I was to have been the victim?”

The Captain shrugged. “You are not of the nobility, Colonel, so your death would not offend the nobility of Haven. Invigilator Rongor is of the nobility, as is the Prince. Noble or not, you are high enough in rank to leave a noticeable hole, as am I. Either one of us would probably serve as a warning, but if they kill me, the ship might not make it back to Haven, and they wouldn’t want that. Their trade depends upon Haven and the nobility. You would serve well to make a point.”

“I would, or my wife.”

“No, not the lady. Forgive me, sir, but the Mahahmbi don’t think women make any point at all. If they took your woman, they’d expect you to find another. The Mahahmbi consider women disposable; they buy them or steal them, just as they buy or steal equipment, with no more importance than that.”

Aufors narrowed his eyes. “So they want to make a point to the Prince. The Prince, and no doubt the Invigilator as well, want them to increase P’naki production, so the point being made must be
let this matter alone!
They do not want to talk about increasing P’naki.”

The Captain sighed and pursed his mouth. “Likely it is the matter of P’naki, yes, sir.”

Aufors started to put his anger into words, then shut his mouth, for the Captain was speaking to the men who had crowded into the control area, and nothing would be gained by shouting at the Captain in front of his men. Shout he would, however. At someone. Sooner or later.

The Captain was saying, “We haven’t enough fuel to hang here against the wind indefinitely. We’ll have to moor ourselves on the nearest island while we decide what to do next. Helmsman, steer us across the strait. The rest of you, sort yourselves out. Find rooms to bed in and clear the ways.”