Star Hunters (5 page)

“No.” Aleytys grinned suddenly. “I surrender.”

“Accepted.” Head reached into the desk and pulled out a folder. “Preliminary data on the Hunt in here. Study it. If you decide to accept, meet with Grey in the Library at the sixth hour this afternoon. He'll walk you through the tapes and reports, give you an idea what you can and can't do. I want to see the two of you here tomorrow morning. Tenth hour.”

“Right.” Aleytys walked slowly to the door. Hand on the massive slab of polished wood, she looked back over her shoulder. “Thanks. I think.”

Aleytys yawned, smiled sleepily. “Sunguralingu. Nice name. When will we get there?” She rubbed at her shoulder, still a little sore from the placing of the implant.

Grey let the viewer fold back into the chair arm. “Couple hours. About sundown, local time.”

“Funny thing happened.” She frowned at the wide viewscreen over the console.

“It
has
been a quiet trip.” He started to smile. “What is it?”

“Fool. Seriously, I've been touched twice by someone there.”

“Touched how? Where?”

“Sunguralingu, I think. Hard to be sure. Psi-link. Sensory tie.”

Grey looked startled. He swung the chair up and examined the instruments. “This far away? And in the interface?”

“See what I mean?”

“Friend or enemy?”

“Friend, I think. He doesn't like me much, seems to find me revoltingly unfeminine.”

“Probably a native. The Vodufa's a back-to-the-primitive movement and pretty damn fanatical about it. You did your homework. You know how they treat women. What are you going to do about him?”

“For one thing, find out more about him. My god, what a reach he's got.” She closed her eyes. “He's riding through a windstorm now, bothered about a lot of things. He's heading for Kiwanji, so I suppose we'll be meeting him there.”

The sun was going down as Manoreh rode into Kiwanji. The wharves were clogged with incoming barges and the refugees who were streaming up the hill to the temporary barracks set up for them. He waved perfunctory greetings to those who called out to him, but didn't stop to answer the questions they yelled at him.
Faiseh must have come in several days ago
, he thought.
With this much set up already
. He relaxed as he left the last of the shelters and rode through emptier streets, past the market square and the small employees' houses. The air cleared for him; the people here accepted him for what he was. Coming back into this quiet was like plunging into cool water on a hot, sticky day. The little houses were empty, their inhabitants lodged now behind Chwereva walls.

The Tembeat was a mud-walled compound sitting like a wart against the walls of the larger complex that housed Chwereva headquarters. One wing of the gate was open. Manoreh slid off the faras and groaned with pleasure as he stretched tired and aching muscles. He scratched briskly beside the fara's mane and projected
PLEASURE
. The animal rubbed his nose against the Ranger's shoulder.

A gangly apprentice on duty in the gatehouse grinned down at Manoreh from one of the windows in the guardroom. “Hey, couz, long trip this time. You back?”

Manoreh chuckled. “No, Umeme. I'm really still chasing Gamesh across the grass lands. Little man, you've grown half a meter since I saw you last. How goes the training?”

The boy grimaced. “A lot of sweat and not much play. Wish I could go out like you.”

“Time will come. Director in?”

“No, couz. He's over there.” Umeme nodded at the Chwereva compound. “Something's up.” He grinned. “Not that they tell us students anything.”

Manoreh slipped the pouch from his shoulder. “Catch.” He threw it up to Umeme's waiting hands. “See the Director gets that. I've got something I've got to do.” He threaded the faras's nose rein through a tie-ring. “Catch someone passing and have him stable the faras.”

“Sure. Anything el.… would you look at that!”

A ball of shimmering light arced down across the darkening blue-green-black of the twilight, cutting past the misty ring of moonlets just becoming visible. As he watched the bubble drift down, a thistleweed corolla with a dark seed at the center, he was certain that the dream woman was on board. He ran into the street.

A small groundcar hummed around the corner of Chwereva compound. Manoreh lifted a hand, smiling as he recognized the driver. “Faiseh, couz, hold up.”

Faiseh brought the battered little car to a rocking stop, a wide grin lifting his mustache. “Hey, Manoreh, you're back.”

“You're the second one to tell me that. I begin to believe it.”

“Damn hares marching.”

“So I saw.”

Faiseh thrust his arm out the open window and the two Rangers clasped wrists. “Good to see you, couz. Long time.”

Manoreh nodded. “Long time.” He glanced toward the landing field. The glow was gone. The ship was down. “Listen, let me take car.”

Faiseh's fuzzy eyebrows arched. “Why not. Later, though. Got to go to the field first. On duty, couz. You saw the ship.”

“Take me with you.”

“Climb in. But get a move on or the Director'll have my skin. Important visitor. Very important.”

Manoreh slapped Faiseh's shoulder in thanks and went around to the far side. As he slid in, he said, “Who?”

“Chwereva has hired Hunters Inc. Finally dug up some official who could count to ten without taking off his shoes, I suppose.” He wove the car through the streets then out the gap in the low screen wall. He snorted with disgust as several hares came out of the scrubby juapepo and hopped along the roadside. “Already here. You ever see so many of them?”

“No.” Manoreh stared down at his hands. The hares reminded him of the ghost. His hands felt stiffer already. Instead of anger he felt a deep chill.

Faiseh glanced at him. “What's eating you?”

Manoreh looked up. “Haribu got pushy. Had to split off a ghost.”

Faiseh drove for several minutes in worried silence then said, “You going back to swallow it?” He scowled at the hares hopping raggedly through the brush. “You better hurry if you want to get out of here.”

“Right. Soon's I see the Director.”

“Well, Hunters will beat hell out of Haribu for us.”

“If they live up to their reputation. Elders won't let them bring in energy weapons.”

“Stupid.” Faiseh waved a hand at the increasing number of hares threading through the juapepo and beginning to move onto the road. “A few weapons like that and we'd wipe out those bastards.”

“I know, but what can we do? Mention energy weapons to the Council and they'll shut down the Tembeat before you get all the words out.”

“Well, we could always go join the crazies on the coast.”

The hares were spreading across the road. Faiseh cursed as the car began to wobble over the bodies that disrupted the smooth ride. He relaxed as the car steadied over the meta-crete of the landing field. The mild current fed into the outer strip was enough to keep the hares off, but they circled it in a solid ring, twenty deep in spots. Faiseh stopped the car a few meters from the dark oval resting on its belly in the center of the field. He shifted uneasily behind the steering rod. “Hope they get a move on. Feel that?”

Haribu was smothering the field. The air hung still and heavy. Hard to breathe. Manoreh closed his eyes.
She's there
, he thought.
A Hunter?

“The lock's opening.”

Manoreh opened his eyes. A tall man in a gray shipsuit swung down from the lock and stood waiting. The woman came into the circle of light. Slender and tall, taller than he'd expected. The red hair was braided and coiled tightly around her head. She swung down beside the man and the lock closed behind her.

Manoreh watched her, fascinated, locked to her by the link that had formed as she came here, ghosting in the interface that let ships move faster than light. She came past the man and stopped beside his window. Her face was a pale blur in the deepening twilight but he didn't need light to know her features.

“You,” she said. “We've met.” Her voice was a surprise also, a warm contralto. He found her confusing. She seemed to him both man and woman. Cool and independent and at the same time.…

“I know. Why?”

She swung around, facing away from the car. “Later,” she said absently. He thrust his head out and twisted around to see what she was looking at.

The hares were on their hind legs staring at her. Force slammed out of them, almost visible in its intensity. She shivered. Manoreh dropped back on the seat, gasping, drowning. His hands closed tightly on the edge of the door. In the corner of his eye he saw movement and turned.

The male Hunter had moved quickly behind the woman and put his hands on her shoulders. She leaned against him. Manoreh heard a ripple of dear pure notes, then stared as a crown of light circled her head and a shimmering golden glow sheathed the two of them, then struck outward at the hares.

Abruptly the pressure from the hares was gone. The crown faded. She slumped back against her partner in obvious distress. He lifted her and carried her the two steps to the car. Hastily Manoreh reached over the seat and shoved the back door open.

The Hunter slid the woman inside and then was in beside her, cat-quick and neat in his movements. “Go!” he snapped.

Chapter IV

In the guest quarters at Chwereva Compound the two Rangers stood quietly waiting as the Hunters settled themselves in. Aleytys followed Grey into the bedroom.

He turned to face her. “What happened back there?”

She stepped around him and sat down on the end of the bed. “First touch of the enemy. Chwereva was right, this isn't a matter of animal instinct. There's an intelligent brain directing those attacks.”

“Bad? That damn thing doesn't show in public unless you're hurting.”

Aleytys lifted her hands and examined them, an excuse for not looking at him. The diadem had been the focus of too many bitter quarrels. “Bad,” she said dully. “I'm still shaking.”

He leaned over and touched her face. “Find out anything more?”

“Not really. Just that he's horribly dangerous, our enemy. And, of course, that he's got a pipeline into Chwereva. He was waiting for me.”

“Not thinking, Lee. Why wouldn't he be waiting, having arranged for you to be here. Can you handle him?”

“Head to head?”

“Yes.” He walked to the door, then stood there looking back at her. “Can you?”

“I don't know,” she said slowly. “I don't know enough about him, whoever or whatever he is.” She eased down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “That Ranger out there, the long one. He's my contact. There's a kind of link joining us that both of us are finding very uncomfortable. Could be a complication.”

He tapped the wall behind him. “We've got to report in. Let me handle that. You get straightened out with your Ranger. Get what you can out of him, he'll probably know more about the local situation than the Reps.”

“Grey.”

“Um?”

“It's …” She sat up. “It's been good seeing you again. Thanks.”

“What for?” His left eyebrow arched as he watched her, skepticism cutting deeper lines in his face.

Aleytys rubbed at the nape of her neck. “For being a thorough professional, I suppose.”

With a slight shake of his head he went out.

Aleytys sat on the bed wondering if he'd ever trust her again, wondering if she wanted him to. Then she brushed the tiny tendrils of new hair back from her face and stood. Time to get to work.

She stopped in the doorway. The Ranger was sitting on the couch. A tall man. Worn, silver-green skin. Scale marked. Eyes so dark a blue they were almost black. Slit pupils like a cat's. Firm, wide mouth. A beaked nose. He wore a thong-laced leather jerkin, torn in two places at the shoulder and marked with a spot of blood by a half-healed cut on his arm muscle. His leather shorts were cut off just above the knees. His boots were scuffed and battered, a tough, hard-used, wary man. He definitely didn't like her but there was that link that bound them together, that almost joining of the two nervous systems. He was uneasy, beads of sweat clinging to his fore-head. He swallowed. She could feel the muscles of her own throat tensing. Nerving herself, she walked across to him and touched his shoulder.

“Don't!” He slid away along the couch, surged onto his feet, and stood looking about like a caged chul cat. Abruptly he swung around and jerked a section of the drapery aside. With controlled violence he shoved open the glass door behind the wall hanging and plunged into the darkness outside. Aleytys looked down at her hand with distaste. She rubbed the hand against her hip. “Professional,” she muttered. “Get the information.”

She pushed through the drapes and stepped out into a small enclosed garden. Automatically she slid the door shut and searched the shifting shadows among the plants. The darkness was greater than she'd expected. She glanced up and was startled by the emptiness overhead. It was one thing to read statistics about the absence of stars within visual range and another to see the barren sky.

The Ranger was standing on the far side of the garden, close by a spiky tree. He was breathing heavily, his shoulders hunched over. As she stepped onto the grass, she stopped abruptly. The plants caught up the tension between them and flung it back at her. She blinked, yanked up her shields and moved cautiously toward him. He turned and watched her, his dark eyes stone hard. He wanted nothing to do with her. When she was two steps away from him, he turned abruptly and dropped onto a rustic bench that circled the entwined trunks of the tree. The pointed leaves painted staccato shadows across his face and body. She sat crosslegged on the cool grass. “We've got a job to do.”

He said nothing, but sat with his head tipped back against the papery peeling bark. She felt him trying to shut her out.