The Sorceress of Karres (29 page)

They went back to the hold and found the three former captives. The two thin men were doing a very proficient job of strapping Mebeckey's fore-arm to a splint they had contrived.

"Ta'zara?" one exclaimed.

The tattooed man smiled. "It's either a dream or we've been rescued."

They stared incredulously at him, then at each other. Then they dropped to their knees. "Great Patham be thanked!"

"We're not out of the woods yet," said Goth, "and the captain says he wants you strapped in. Sorry about the arm, and the bouncing around. We had to get off-world in a hurry."

"What are bruises compared to not being eaten?" said the one tall fellow.

"You've got a point. The ship's in a bit of a state. She got looted. But we should be able to find a few crash couches intact."

"You are instruments of Patham. Our gratitude—"

"Get a move on," said the Leewit.

"Contact, forty-five seconds and closing."

They'd raced into a rapid transit to Megair 4's second moon, using that for a small bit of gravitational slingshotting for the
Venture.
But now the Phantom ships were surrounding them. And the Leewit was sitting, anchored with makeshift combat webbing, in the open hold airlock with a grav-tractor, a gravity generator intended to push and pull freight. Gravitational force obeyed the inverse square law, and for the grav-tractor to have any effect, she would have to focus the beam right on the Phantom ship.

Ta'zara was on the forward nova gun pod. He'd never operated one before, but the two Dell brothers were pacifists and missionary doctors and were no better. Vezzarn was on the aft nova guns. Mebeckey had been fed a painkiller and was strapped in. Goth was ready in the copilot's seat, with the wires for making the framework for the Sheewash at hand.

"Contact ten seconds. Five. Fire when ready!"

Pausert saw the first Phantom go from zero on the mass-detector to thousands of tons. And then there was a burst of exploding incandescence where the ship had been. Even here in space the
Venture
was buffeted by it. The Leewit shrieked with triumph. The nova guns roiled sheet-lightning across the heavens. The Leewit had plainly focused on another target because a second ship erupted. She was just as accurate with the grav-tractor as she was with her beloved nova guns. Odd marksmanship, really, for someone destined to be a healer—but the witches of Karres were a law unto themselves.

The cordon was fleeing now—still firing torpedoes but running.

"Time to go Sheewash. Can't keep it up too long here among the debris. But let's leave those torpedoes behind!" yelled Goth.

The orange incandescent fire danced and the
Venture
leapt away from the battle.

"They're still following, Captain," said Goth. With the detectors looted, she was doing a manual search of the viewscreens behind the venture while the captain dodged obstacles. They'd be out of the cluster soon and into open space. Right now, though, ship-handling took all his concentration.

"But they're keeping a healthy distance," she continued. "They're out of grav-tractor range, and we'll have time to deal with torpedoes if we spot them incoming. Can we bring the Leewit in?"

"Sure," said Pausert, not taking his eyes off the forward screens for an instant. "If she's not too tired, we can put her into the rear turret for torpedoes. She's the best shot I've ever seen. Have Vezzarn check that patch, see if we can do any more to it."

"I'm fine," said the Leewit over her suit-mike.

"Well, close that outer airlock and come in then."

"Will do. Got those clumping Phantoms!"

"Once we've got some clear space we need to go Sheewash, Captain. We're still definitely losing pressure. We won't last four days of normal ship travel," said Goth.

Pausert nodded, and yawned. "We'd better stock up on some calories then. We're further than four days out of Uldune space. I could murder a coffee and some food. Maybe we can get one of the supercargo to see to it?"

"Sounds good," said Goth. "I'll page them up."

But it soon became apparent that it wasn't going to happen. The Dell brothers were very willing, and even Mebeckey staggered up from his couch (and was sent back to it), but it appeared that the robo-butler and the food supplies had been one of the casualties of the Megair Cannibals' looting spree.

"Nothing for it but to run a bit on empty," said Pausert grumpily. "I'd even eat those weeds that the Megair Cannibals provided for us."

The two Dell brothers looked helplessly at each other. "Your companion, Mebeckey, ate heartily of them. But we did not bring any of the fresh leaf with us. It wasn't bad. Just monotonous, and left us feeling permanently mildly hungry. It lacks, we think, some trace elements, or amino acids. We tried to get them to let us do some lab work. We think the dietary deficiency could be treated. But . . ."

"But they didn't want to. They think their way of life is fine," said Goth.

The Leewit came in at this point. "I'm ravenous. And they're still a long way back on us. What happened to that food?"

"The Megair Cannibals looted the robo-butler and the supplies," admitted Pausert.

"What!" The Leewit was incensed. "Those clumping useless greasy gray slabs! I think we ought to go back and teach them a lesson."

The two Dell brothers looked shocked. "But, my daughter!" said one. "We have been given the gift, our lives. We should instead be grateful. What is a little privation . . ."

Pausert knew that look in the Leewit's eye. Best to do some distraction before she whistled them something special. He coughed. "We're free and running, but we have problems, the Leewit."

"Like what?" Her newfound responsibility came to the fore.

"Well," said Goth. "We have a leaking ship, hundreds of Phantom ships chasing us, and no food. But otherwise nothing much."

"So can we do something about the food first?" said the Leewit. "I'm starving. I'd start on Mebeckey if he wasn't so scrawny even after eating my Wintenberry jelly."

After the klatha-energy use, they were raveningly hungry. Pausert couldn't help laughing. The two medical missionaries looked horrified. But then they had just escaped being dinner.

"I think you should go and check on the patient," said Pausert firmly. "And strap in. We're going to use our booster. Don't come back for at least fifteen minutes."

The Leewit looked darkly at the captain. "I wouldn't have really done much to them. You know why the Cannibals didn't want to eat them? Ta'zara told me. He's not the worst, you know. Anyway, the Cannibals didn't eat those two because they wouldn't fight. Wouldn't even run. No sport in them."

"And Ta'zara?"

The Leewit was silent for a bit. Then she said quietly. "They kept him for a special feast. Because he was the bravest. They hurt him really badly with those nerve janglers. Badly enough for him to be scared to face them again. He'd tried a lot of times, I think. He was . . . a mess inside."

Pausert knew that the Leewit was destined to be a healer. But he'd not thought of the cost of healing on herself. To fix a mind, she'd had to understand at least in part what was wrong. And she was still very young. His protective instincts surged. "But he dared again in the passage at the door."

The Leewit shrugged. "He had to. It was part of the healing, see. So I helped him not to be afraid. But he still was. That was why he was so explosive. Winning there helped him a lot."

"You still got enough strength to help us with the Sheewash drive?" asked Goth, giving her a sisterly hug. "We need to take the
Venture
faster to Uldune, or we're going to run out of air, let alone go hungry."

The Leewit nodded. "For sure. Especially as we don't get any food until then."

"You should lay off teasing those missionaries," said Goth.

"They keep asking me to do it," said the Leewit. "So let's Sheewash."

The three of them, linked and pushing the ship, did in a bare few minutes with the klatha energies of the Sheewash drive what would have taken days otherwise. They pushed the
Venture
toward the one-time pirate port of Uldune. Afterwards, they sat, tired and hungry, in the control room. And after a few minutes the captain found the energy to start trying for navigation beacons. He got just one, faintly, and began transcribing it in.

The
Venture
's communicators signaled a pick-up. They were back in subradio range, and being hailed. And what was more, they were being hailed on a private shielded frequency with a powerful directional beam. Someone was calling the
Venture
.

Goth fiddled with the reception. Turned up the gain. "
Venture 7333
 . . . home in for Uldune . . ."

"Hulik's voice!" said the Leewit delightedly. "We are receiving you, Uldune," she transmitted.

There was no mistaking the relief in the voice. "Secure channel beam length 0.699."

Goth clicked the communicator beam length to that. "Come in, Uldune."

"Glad to hear your voice, Goth," said Hulik.

"Not half as glad as we are to hear yours," said Goth. "We're losing air slowly, and worse, out of food."

Hulik laughed. "If that is the worst worry—then I can stop worrying. Based on the directional data, we have eight cruisers and a battlewagon within half a ship day of you. Will your air hold out that long?"

"Easily. Though the Leewit's stomach may not. It's growling at us. Anyway, we're glad you happened to have some ships near to us. That was lucky."

"We got information that you were in the Megair cluster two days ago," said Hulik. "The fleet left as soon as possible."

"What!"

"You need to keep a careful lookout. There is a fairly substantial pirate fleet looking for you. Specifically for you, Goth." Hulik do Eldel paused. "You better be ready to run . . . with your special ability . . . if it's not our fleet. If they don't give the recognition call of the name of Hantis's canine friend and planet of origin."

"Will do!"

"Will keep this channel open. Call us if you encounter any ships at all. Out."

"Over and out."

* * *

Goth looked at the other two. "Someone, somehow, knew that we'd arrived on Megair 4."

Pausert frowned. "Someone who is working with the Phantom ships?"

"It's that or the Cannibals. And that doesn't seem very likely."

The intercom crackled. "Captain! Captain! There is something wrong with Mebeckey! Please come."

"There's a lot wrong with him," grunted the captain. "Besides the fact that he got something to eat on Megair 4 and tried to betray us to the Cannibals. I don't know why we saved him."

"Because we couldn't just leave him to be eaten, I suppose," said Goth, scanning the screens. "Leewit, call your Na'kalauf friend. They sounded panicky. I don't see any problems right now. I'll just get Vezzarn to the bridge to mind the shop. I have a feeling that I might need to be with you."

"I'm at the shoot first and ask questions later stage with that particular passenger," said Pausert tersely.

A few moments later Vezzarn came in hastily. "There's a lot of yelling coming from Mebeckey's stateroom, Captain."

"That's where we're off to, Vezzarn. Ah. Here is Ta'zara. We may need you to come and sit on someone. Those two didn't actually say what was wrong with him."

Ta'zara looked at the Leewit. "If you permit," he said calmly.

"What?"

"I am in your service, the Leewit. You accepted me. I am your man. Your guard-of-the-body. To honor my debt."

Goth had heard of the Na'kalauf and their honor system. But she was sure that her little sister hadn't. Well, she could probably use a bodyguard for a little while! "The Leewit's got herself her first man," she said, poking her tongue out at her sister. There was a fair amount of payback owing.

The Leewit looked utterly confused. "You saved his life. Now he owes his life to you. He is your bondsman," explained the captain, getting up and checking his blaster. "So he needs orders from you, not me."

"Oh. Well, I order you to obey the captain," said the Leewit, absorbing this. "For now, anyway. I might want to change my mind later. Anyway. I am going along to see what trouble the missionaries are in this time."

They went to the room Mebeckey had taken as his own. There was no shrieking now, so they pushed the door open.

One of the missionary doctors was taking Mebeckey's pulse. Mebeckey lay on the floor, his eyes rolled back. He was twitching convulsively.

But that was far from the most horrific aspect. Thin greenish-black tendrils were oozing out of his nose—it looked rather like jointed hair. It too was twitching. And twining and untwining around itself.

"What in Patham's second hell is it?" asked the captain.

"We don't know. But he started to have a fit earlier and next thing that plant started to come out of him. I tried to pull it out—and it tried to climb into
me
," said one of the brothers. "I pulled it off, but it has little hooks on it."

He showed them his forearm with a double row of tiny weals on it. "It's some kind of parasite, I would guess."

"Is he going to die?" asked the Leewit, pushing her way forward.

One of the missionary doctors shook his head. "His heart rate is elevated and his breathing is fast—which is natural enough, under the circumstances. All things considered, he will probably live."

With an audible ripping sound, the last of the tendrils came free of Mebeckey's nose and dropped onto the floor. Then the plant—or whatever it was—began slowly coiling and spiking its way across.

The Leewit knelt beside Mebeckey and put her hands onto his convulsing body. "No, little girl. Leave him alone," said one of the Dell brothers and reached to pick her up.

"I wouldn't do that!" said Pausert. "Leave her."

"We're doctors. He might be infectious."

The Leewit looked up. "Keep them away. And watch that thing, Captain."

"She's a healer," said Pausert.

"It might be dangerous." said the Dell brother, leaning in to pick up the Leewit—to find himself suspended.

Ta'zara held him by the collar. "What shall I do with him, mistress?"