The Mystery of Ireta (42 page)

“Have they a power source there, too?”

“Yes, Lieutenant, another one, larger,” Portegin reported, homing in on the site with the camera eye.

“And there are the cultivated fields,” Titrivell said as the sled rose above the falls, “and a discontinuity fold!”

“A what?” Rianav asked, keeping her eyes on the scene before her.

“Which would explain this raised valley,” Titrivell went on. “Old sea bed probably. Look at the size of it!”

“And the reason why they abandoned the butte site,” Rianav said. “This plateau is large enough to support the biggest colony ship they build. Can you see evidence of a grid?”

Rianav spiraled the sled, then set it to hover as the three took in the vast area. The foreground was clear despite the beginning of a misty rainfall. The river and the terraced fields that began at its banks disappeared into a haze. In the far distance orange red flashes at several different points suggested that volcanoes added smoke to the heat mists. Portside of the river was the inevitable lush and tangled jungle growth, slanting upward to crown the heights and edges of the broad valley.

“Lieutenant, look!” Titrivell directed Rianav’s attention to the settlement to starboard. “Clever of them to use that stranded beach formation.”

“The what?”

“And look, ma’am, if you can spot it in the haze, the rock . . . it’s ore bearing! No mistaking that color.” Titrivell whistled, his eyes wide with excitement. “Just look how that color continues. The whole narding cliff’s packed with iron ore.”

“A second reason for switching camps, then,” she said in a dry tone, dampening the rising enthusiasm Titrivell was displaying.

“See, over there, chimneys!” Titrivell continued, undaunted. Rianav applied a half-turn. “A foundry, all right, and a big one. And blast it all, they’ve got rails . . . leading to . . . Lieutenant, would you—about thirty degrees and—”

“We’re looking for a grid, Titrivell!” she said but corrected the helm.

“We don’t need to
look
, Lieutenant,” replied Titrivell, “if those rails lead to a mine or . . .”

She gave the sled a bit of power, and they glided along the edge of plateau wall. Abruptly the vegetation disappeared and a huge pit opened below them, glistening in the rain.

“Or an opencast mine like this one!”

“I didn’t know you were so knowledgeable about mining, Titrivell,” Rianav said with a shaky laugh. She hadn’t expected such evidence of industry from Aygar’s barbaric appearance and primitive weaponry.

“You don’t need to know much not to miss that sort of operation, ma’am,” Titrivell said. He looked now beyond the pit, and Rianav, following his gaze, turned the sled away from the mining area, down toward the immense flat plateau.

“They sure didn’t have far to haul,” Portegin remarked at his post. “Nor far to go home, either. There’s a sizable settlement three degrees starboard, ma’am.”

“I’m far more interested in whether the grid is finished or not.” Rianav was also aware that she should render as full a report as possible to her commander, and that included the number of inhabitants. She diverted the sled to fly over the buildings that shortly became a geometrical arrangement, at the center of which was an expedition dome: its plastic had been scarred by wind and abrasive sands, darkened by sun, but it was still usable and, apparently, the focal point of the settlement.

Despite the rain, people seemed to be pursuing their normal tasks. The unexpected overflight of the sled was seen and soon people were pointing at them.

“There is a grid, ma’am,” Portegin said, lifting his head from the camera scan. “I can’t think why else so much of the undergrowth would be cleared from half the plateau. There’s even a road leading to the area.”

Rianav swung the sled about. “I’d like a headcount on this pass, Portegin, Titrivell.” She nosed the sled down and slowed its forward speed.

“I make about forty-nine,” Portegin said, “but the children keep moving about.”

“I count fifty. No, fifty-one. A woman just came out of the dome and she’s assisting someone, a man. That makes fifty-two.”

“The old man must be the one survivor of the original group,” Rianav said. She increased their speed and headed toward the road Portegin had mentioned.

No observer could miss the grid, despite the mud and windblown debris that covered its lattice design, for the soil was divided into squares as far as they could see in the rain.

“Got to give such people credit,” Portegin said. “Heavyworld stock or no, that’s quite a feat. Going from nothing to that in four decades.”

She went far enough across the plateau to confirm that the project was probably finished, then circled widely, heading back toward the settlement.

“Are we going to land?” Portegin asked as they approached. They could see that a crowd waited at the edge of the settlement. “The old man’s waving. He expects us to land.” Portegin seemed nervous.

“It is our mission after all, Portegin,” Rianav remarked dryly.

“And none of them have stunners or Aygar’s group would have had ’em ,” Titrivell added.

“Aygar might not have mentioned our encounter to anyone in authority,” Rianav said. “All his welcoming party were young.”

“It’s to their advantage, Lieutenant, to remain ‘unrescued’ until that colony ship arrives,” Titrivell added.

Portegin snorted. “But we’re here, aren’t we?”

“It’s not as if they won’t do very well under the Shipwreck Contingencies,” Titrivell said.

“Aygar has greater ambitions, as we heard,” Rianav noted. “That’s not our problem, fortunately. All we had to do was check out the distress call.”

She landed the sled a hundred meters from the crowd, passing control over to Portegin with the same instructions she had given before. With Titrivell behind her, she proceeded up the slight incline. The old man, the woman assisting him, hobbled forward as rapidly as he could with a badly twisted leg.

They might, Rianav thought, have had the metallurgy requisite to make a grid, but they’d missed out on medical skill. There had been a medic included in the original expedition, hadn’t there?

“You’re from the colony ship?” the old man exclaimed excitedly. “You’re orbiting? No need. See,” and he gestured to the plateau behind Rianav, “we’ve got the grid laid. You’ve only to lead the ship in.” He continued to move forward and Rianav realized that he was about to embrace her.

She backed off, saluting as a courteous way to avoid contact. “Your pardon, sir, Lieutenant Rianav of the Cruiser
218 Zaid-Dayan 43
. We picked up your distress signal from the beacon—”

“Distress signal?” The old man drew himself up to a pridefully arrogant stance, his expression contemptuous. “
We
set no distress beacon.”

He’d been a powerful man at one time, Rianav thought objectively, but under his loose tunic, his muscles sagged, stretching the hide at its underseams. Pockets of flesh hung from his big bones.

“We were abandoned, yes. Most of our equipment smashed in a stampede. We could send no message. We’d lost all our sleds and the space shuttle. Those misbegotten, nardy high and mighty shippers never bothered their heads to come back. But we managed. We survived. We heavy-worlders do well on this planet. It’s ours. And so you forget that distress beacon. We didn’t set it. We don’t need your sort of help—You can’t rob us of what we’ve made.”

From the corner of her eye, Rianav saw Titrivell draw his stunner. The woman at the old man’s side noticed the movement and restrained him, murmuring something which cut through his angry renunciation.

“Huh? That?” He peered nearsightedly, and then his face took on a sneering look as he recognized the naked weapon. “That’s right. Come among peaceful folk with a stunner. Blast your way through us! Take all we’ve worked for these long decades. I told the others we’d never be allowed to keep Ireta. You lot always keep the prizes for yourselves, don’t you?”

“Sir, we answered a distress signal as we are required to do by space law. We will report your condition to Fleet Headquarters. In the meantime, may we offer you any medical supplies or—”

“Do you think we’d take anything from the likes of you!” The old man was spluttering with indignation. “Nothing is what we want from you! Leave us alone! We’ve survived! That’s more than the others could have done! We’ve survived. This is our world. We’ve earned it. And when—”

The woman beside him covered his mouth with her hand.

“That’s enough, Tanegli. They understand.”

The old man subsided, but as the woman turned to Rianav and Titrivell, he continued to mumble under his breath, throwing angry glances at the two spacers.

“Forgive him, Lieutenant. We bear no malice. And as you see,” her broad gesture took in the well-constructed buildings, the fields, the obviously healthy people behind her, “we do very nicely here. Thank you for coming, but there is no distress now.” She took a half-step forward, her body shielding the old man as she added, “He has delusions at his age, about rescuers and about revenge. He is bitter, but we are not. Thank you for answering the signal.”

“If you didn’t send it, then who did?” Rianav asked.

The woman shrugged. “Tardma, one of the originals, used to say that a message was sent before the stampede. But no one came. She was often contradicted.”

In her own way, the woman was as eager to be rid of them as Aygar had been. But it was also obvious to Rianav that Aygar had said nothing, at least to the woman and the old man, about the earlier encounter.

“Nothing you need from our stores? Medicine? Matrices? Do you have an operative comunit? We can request a trader to touchdown. They’re always looking for new business and a young settlement . . .” Rianav looked past Tanegli. The woman must be his daughter, for she bore a resemblance to him. The others stood back quietly, but obviously were straining to hear every word. Some of the smaller children were working their way round to get a good look at the sled.

“We’re self-sufficient, Lieutenant,” was the adamant reply.

“No trouble with the indigenous life-forms? We’ve seen some huge—”

“This plateau is safe from the large herbivores and their predators.”

“I shall make my report accordingly.” Rianav saluted and, with a smart about-face, strode back to the sled with Titrivell.

She didn’t like having her back to the group. She could feel the tension in Titrivell, but Discipline kept her pace controlled and suppressed her urge to look behind her.

Tension showed in Portegin’s face and he shoved the canopy back hard enough for it to bounce forward again on its track. Rianav and Titrivell wasted no time climbing into the sled and were barely seated when Portegin executed a fast vertical lift and without spoken order, headed directly back over the falls.

“Every single one of those adults was bigger than we are by a third of a meter, Lieutenant,” Portegin said. His lips were dry.

“As soon as we’re out of sight behind that ridge, take a direct course to our camp, helmsman.”

“They might not have had gravity to contend with,” Titrivell remarked, “but that’s a mighty fit bunch of people.”

“They’d have to be to survive on this planet and keep their aim in mind.”

“Their aim, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, helmsman. They want to own all of this planet, not just that plateau or whatever other rights they’d possess on a shipwreck claim.”

“But they can’t do that! Can they, Lieutenant?” Portegin shifted uneasily in the pilot’s seat, clasping and reclasping the control bar with anxious, quick fingers.

“We’ll know more after we’ve made our report to the proper authorities, helmsman.”

Then it was Rianav’s turn to fidget, rubbing her fingers across her forehead because what she said sounded somehow wrong, and she couldn’t imagine why.

They were silent all the way back to the base; a silence partly imposed by the stormy weather, which made conversation in the sled difficult, partly due to the fatigue of Rianav and Titrivell as they came down from the height of Discipline.

Suddenly the sun, as if bored with meteorological displays, melted through the clouds, and they were treated to vast panoramas of jungle, clear to the distant southern range of volcanoes, and on the east to the thrust of high jagged peaks, bare of the luxuriant purple and green vegetation that seemed indestructible. Glancing around, Rianav caught sight of the three winged fliers and her anxiety dissipated for a reason she was unable to fathom.

The three remained discreetly above and behind the sled until Portegin descended to the vertical landing point in front of the camp’s veil screen. As Rianav climbed out of the sled, the golden fliers circled once, then disappeared to the northwest. As she had felt comforted by their curious escort, now she felt sad at their abrupt departure.

The veil screen opened, and a woman walked out to meet them.

“Report, Varian.”

Blinking in confusion, Rianav gave her head a sharp shake. She did not recognize that person as part of her command.

“I promised you a barrier, Varian,” the woman said with a droll smile. “Did I set it too deep?”

At that posthypnotic cue, the overlay of Rianav gave way to Varian. “Krims! Lunzie, how did you manage that sort of change?” Varian turned around, staring at Triv who had so recently been another person entirely, and Portegin.

Triv was shaking his head, too, while Portegin, emerging from the sled, nearly fell in his surprise.

“Hey, what happened? We’re not from any cruiser!” As the realization of his day’s adventure seeped into his true self, Portegin collapsed against the side of the sled. “You mean, we just went in among those heavy-worlders and . . . How?”

“Lunzie did it,” Varian said, laughing with relief and nervousness as she absorbed the enormity of what they had done.

“He who thinks he’s telling the truth is more convincing, Portegin,” Lunzie remarked.

“And you made sure our truths matched?” Triv asked.

“I’m better pleased that they weren’t needed. Come on in,” Lunzie said, wagging her hand to indicate tiny insects flying through the veil opening. “Kai’s fretted long enough.”

“He’s improving?” Varian asked.