The Mystery of Ireta (39 page)

“How long, then, before Kai is well?”

“He’s not going to be physically fit for several weeks. I’d prefer to keep him from any exertion at all for four or five days. Then a
slow
convalescence.”

Varian digested that in silence.

“Triv can accompany you and Portegin if he’s finished patching. But I must watch Kai.”

“Yes, he’s likely to try something stupid because he feels responsible for us all.”

“What is it about this meeting that worries you, Varian?”

“I wish I could answer that. There was something about Aygar’s attitude . . .”

Lunzie chuckled in high amusement. “I’ll bet there was.”

“Lunzie! You said yourself I’m not at my best—”

“At your very worst, you’d be a joy to a man deprived of a woman. And one hell of an acquisition to their gene pool.”

Varian didn’t dismiss that notion, but it was not, she was certain, the entire answer to the enigma of Aygar’s cryptic expression.

“Sexuality could have been part of it, Lunzie, but it’s more as if . . . as if he had a surprise for me. And he did mention their beacon. Yes, the beacon had something to do with it and something that would, in his mind, neutralize my ability to throw him.”

“Why do they have a beacon?” Lunzie asked. She thoughtfully pursed her lips as Varian shook her head. Abruptly the medic pointed ahead and to starboard.

“Isn’t that moss down there?”

Varian banked sharply, noticing the small animals scurrying from the sound of the sled. She threw on the telltagger, but it only made noises appropriate to the small life-forms rapidly leaving the area. When they had landed, Varian kept one eye on the giffs. As long as they circled lazily, she felt safe.

“Not the right moss,” Lunzie said disgustedly. She held a sample under Varian’s nose.

“It stinks!”

“It’s cryptogamous!”

“Really?”

“Propagates by spores. What we want is bryophytic. You didn’t happen to notice how much of the stuff in Divisti’s garden is also bryophytic?”

“If it’s fungoid, I’m automatically prejudiced.” Varian gave a small shudder. “But I didn’t notice fungi in the garden. And the purple moss was the only one of its sort.”

“Don’t disparage fungi. Some of the oddest and most repellent are delicious and highly nutritious.”

“And smelly?”

“You planet-bred types do worry about smell, don’t you?” Lunzie grinned at Varian, and began to scrub her hands with dirt to remove the moss.

“I’d think smell would bother you shippers a lot more.”

“Is it safe to explore a little here?” Lunzie asked, glancing around the small copse.

“I don’t see why not,” Varian replied, after a glance at the giffs. “I’ll just turn up the volume on the telltagger.”

They ventured farther among the huge, high-branching trees, noting the nail grooves where the long-neck herbivores had steadied themselves to reach the upper leaves and branches. Similar stands of trees were scattered about the vast plain. Distant hadrosaurs, distinguishable by their crests, were bending saplings down to reach the edible twigs.

After concluding that the area had been overgrazed, the two women took to the air again, moving southeast until the land fell away in a huge old fault of several hundred meters’ height. The vegetation in the lower portion differed drastically from that of the plain. There were also more clearings in which to land the sled, but the telltagger buzzed so continually that Varian declined to take an unnecessary risk.

“We can try the swamps where we found the hyracotherium tomorrow,” Varian suggested and Lunzie agreed that this might be a more profitable site for the purple moss.

They were turning back when Varian sighted pod-bearing trees, at the northern end of the fault. Although there was room enough to land a space cruiser, the land was occupied by large tusked animals that were either fighting or bashing headlong into slender trunked trees to dislodge pods for noisy consumption. The air sled frightened the creatures off, but Varian preferred to hover well above the tuskers while Lunzie picked, happily muttering about high protein content.

“Make a note of these coordinates, will you Varian? We’ll want more of these. They’re what give my special stew its flavor.”

Taking another tangent back to the sea cliffs of the golden fliers, they made one more stop, in fruiting trees which Varian also noted for future reference.

The fragrance of the ripe fruit, picked from boughs grazing animals couldn’t reach, filled the enclosed air sled with tantalizing sweetness.

“No more stops no matter what you see, Lunzie. It’s getting dark, and I don’t fancy night landings in that cave.”

“I might just wake Bonnard,” Lunzie said after they’d ridden on in silent appreciation for the sunset display of distant lightning that brightened clouds in the far west. “He can run this boat, can’t he? He’s smart, quick, and he thinks. Besides—”

“Look, if you’re worried, Portegin can stay with you.”

“My concern is for you, co-leader, not myself. Not that any of you are safe if it’s new blood they’re after.”

“What exactly is bothering you, Lunzie? Tell me now. I’ve had enough surprises.”

“It may just be my suspicious nature, Varian, but your Aygar did mention a beacon. It is forty-three years since the mutiny . . .”

“So?”

“What do you know of unrest among planetary minorities?”

“Huh?” It took Varian a moment to grapple with the sudden switch. “I’d heard rumors that choice planets usually end up managed by one of the FSP majors. Financing was the usual rationale. Krims!—You don’t mean . . .” Varian shot a horrified glance at Lunzie, “you don’t mean that the
ARCT-10
might have been taken over by another set of mutineers, do you?”

“A compound ship does not lend itself to mutiny.” Lunzie gave Varian a tight grin. “
Too
many minorities involved, too many different atmospheres, too bloody strict a surveillance against a possible takeover. Command can, you know, close off, gas, or eject any section of a compound ship without affecting overall stability, life support, drive or control elements. And the
ARCT-10
had a large Thek group.
No
minority goes against Thek. What I had in mind were the rumors of expeditions on worlds such as this, where sizable teams simply disappeared. Not planted, but no sign of natural disasters or deaths accidental or otherwise. Just the rumor and no official acknowledgment of the problem. No official announcement about finding the lost units, either. Of course, the change-state problems of this immense Federation could account for the lack of news or official confirmation. Very little gets done quickly, especially when Thek are concerned. Forty-three years since our distress call?” Lunzie’s expression was grimly thoughtful. “That, my dear coleader, is long enough for a homing capsule to arrive at its destination and to permit an expedition to reach the distressed party. In my opinion, that’s why your Aygar was not much bothered by the gene balance in his settlement. And the reason he was surprised you hadn’t homed in on
his
beacon.”

Varian inhaled a long whistle. “That does put a frame around his attitude. But three days? Could he be that certain of a touchdown when they don’t have any communications?” Varian followed again, mulling over Lunzie’s theory. “When I crossed his line of march, he did get rid of me as fast as he could.”

“Which might mean the newcomers have arrived or are expected soon.”

“He certainly expects to own Ireta!”

“Your space law’s worse than your botany, Varian. If my theory has any substance, you were possessed with sheer genius when you posed as a new FSP expedition.”

“I was? Why?”

“One,” and Lunzie ticked off her points on fingers, “the heavy-worlders don’t suspect you are from the original team; they can still assume that we died of our own incompetence after the stampede or went into cold sleep. But if,” and another finger emphasized that point, “an FSP relief party arrives before
their
reinforcements, summoned by that homing capsule, they will not have clear title to the planet.”

“How could they think they’d have a clear title anyhow?” Varian demanded.

“There’s a considerable code of space law dealing with shipwrecked survivors who reach habitable planets and/or stranded expeditionary members who manage to achieve a certain level of civilization.”

“What does that code of space law say about mutineers?”

“That’s why it’s safer for
us
to be a relief party.”

“If at first you don’t succeed, have another go?” Varian asked drolly.

“Precisely.”

“But, Lunzie, when the reinforcements arrive, they’d know there aren’t any other ships orbiting the planet.”

“The reinforcements, my dear Varian, are probably illegal and would be most anxious not to be hailed by another vessel. They’ll probably enter the atmosphere under radio silence and as quickly as possible to avoid detection. Since the obvious orbit of a rescue ship is synchronous with the site of original landing, even a large ship can escape detection if the captain has any intelligence.

“And then set about raping this rich world and indulging in their anachronistic behavior. It’s easy now to understand why specialists of the caliber of Bakkun and Berru went along with that asinine rumor about our being planted. They had a world to gain.”

Varian’s expression was grim. “Too bad they didn’t live to enjoy it. But, Lunzie, they did mutiny and they mustn’t be allowed to profit by it.”

“They haven’t yet,” Lunzie replied wryly. “And though their descendants cannot be held liable for the sins of their predecessors, we have to stay alive to prove that a mutiny did occur.”

“Then how—” Varian began indignantly.

“The descendants would only get partial claims,” Lunzie explained hurriedly. “Don’t worry about that now. Consider this instead: once their relief ship arrives, it will almost certainly contain sleds and instrumentation. They’ll be able to mount a full-scale search for our shuttle.”

“That doesn’t mean they’ll find it.”

“I suppose we won’t
have
to produce a shuttle,” Lunzie said.

“It’s away mapping the continent,” Varian announced airily. “Regulations don’t specify how large a search party has to be, so five of us are all our ship could send. And Tor knows—” Varian let out a whoop of laughter that caused Lunzie to wince as the sound reverberated in the confines of the sled’s canopy. “Those heavy-worlders have outsmarted themselves, Bakkun and Berru included. This planet’s been Thek-claimed for millions of years, if that core Tor was so nardling eager to disinter was Thek-manufactured. And it has to be.”

“Whether it is or isn’t, Varian, may not be germane, considering the span of time since its implantation. You can be certain that Bakkun included precise details of the rich transuranic potential of Ireta when that homing capsule was launched. An expedition will arrive equipped to strip this planet as thoroughly as the Others. And argue about who had the right to do so later.”

A shudder ran through Varian’s body. “Are there really any Others, Lunzie?”

“No one knows. I’ve stood on one of those barren worlds that must once have been as lush and lovely—and as rich—as this one.”

“The mutineers mustn’t rape this one.”

“You’ve my complete support.”

“The old
ARCT-10
may even reappear . . .”

“We’d best consider what resources
we
can muster,” said Lunzie. She raised her hand when Varian began to protest. “I never count on luck. Tomorrow you, Triv, and Portegin will have lift-belts and stunners when you meet Aygar. You and Triv will have the advantage of full Discipline.” The medic paused before she added solemnly, “And I’d better give you all barriers.”

“Barriers?” Varian cast a startled look at the medic. That aspect of Discipline was entrusted to only a highly select few.

“Barriers are the only real protection you and our sleepers would have if heavy-worlders have landed.” Lunzie spoke quietly. Almost, Varian thought, as if she regretted the necessity of revealing this unexpected strength, rather than the need which dictated its use.

They flew on in silence until the looming white cliffs emerged from the shroud of evening mists and the black, beribboned opening that was their refuge yawned before them.

6

A
FTER
everyone had enjoyed the tasty stew Lunzie had concocted and as much of the ripe fruit as they could eat, Varian asked Lunzie to air her theory about the mutineers’ plan for Ireta.

“That’s just how the heavy-worlders acquired the S-192 system,” Triv said with considerable indignation.

“S-192 was a two-g world,” Lunzie pointed out.

“This one has wild animals for them to eat,” Varian said grimly.

“Not to mention transuranic deposits that would make claimholders extremely wealthy,” said Kai, “if they could validate their claim.”

“Which they can’t because we’re alive.” Portegin’s voice was angry.

“Hmm, but they don’t know it,” Varian reminded him.

“Keep two points in mind, my friends,” Lunzie said. “The mutineers’ descendants have survived and have maintained a good level of technology if they’re forging metal and have constructed a beacon. That qualifies them—”

“We’ve survived, too,” and Portegin sat straight up, incensed.

Lunzie regarded him humorlessly for a moment. “We,” and her voice left the slightest emphasis on the pronoun, “must continue to do so. My second point is that the descendants of the original mutineers cannot be prosecuted for the felony of their grandparents.”

“Tanegli’s still alive.” Varian was surprised at the edge in her voice.

“So I suspect that his first suggestion to the commander of the expected vessel will be to find us,” Kai said. “When they didn’t find the space shuttle under the dead beasts after the stampede, they knew that someone survived and went cryo.”

“Aygar believes that they were deliberately abandoned,” Varian said.

“Your little lie and what Aygar has been told are all that kept him from attacking you, Varian.” Lunzie’s tone betrayed her anger. “We have to keep you and them,” the medic jabbed her finger at the shuttle, “alive until
ARCT-10
returns.”