CHAPTER 22
Once the Venture was comfortably out of the Irad system, and there was no pursuit visible on the detectors, the crew of the Venture gathered in the mess. Most of them did, anyway. Old Vezzarn had volunteered to stay on the bridge, watching their instruments so no nasty surprises crept up on them.
“Captain, I’m just a crewman. You decide where we’re going and what we do next. You’ve proved you always come back for me, look after me. Besides,” he said, with a wary smile, when Pausert called the meeting, “it’ll probably involve witchy stuff I’d rather not know about.” Vezzarn remained rather superstitious about klatha. “This way I genuinely can say to anyone from the Daal’s secret police that I really don’t know. What I don’t know can’t be gotten out of me by the Daalmen, and not telling them anything is wiser from the Wisdoms of Karres’ point of view. And that is for the best, I reckon.”
It was quite crowded in the Venture’s small mess. Part of that was not just the number of people but because the Leewit and Tippi were playing a complicated game which involved the rochat jumping to catch pieces of the seaweed biscuit it had become so fond of.
“Aren’t you going to need that stuff to feed the Arerrerr?” asked Goth.
“Fed the Arerrerr already,” said the Leewit, tossing another fragment of biscuit for Tippi. “It won’t need much more for weeks. It’s got a kind of slow metabolism. But don’t go into the hold without suiting up or cycling the airlock. I’ve changed the air mix a bit, for starters, to make it more comfortable, and pushed up the temperature. There’s a bit more sulfur in the air, too. I have made sure it can’t scent-spray you, or work on your neural patterns, but no sense in taking chances.”
“Well,” said the captain, “that’s rather what I wanted to talk about. It fills most of the hold. Now… Goth and I have a task to attend to, but we also have this…pet. It’s a problem. From what I can work out it can’t really look after itself—and anyway, it’s been used to make slaves once, so the idea that that is possible is out there now. We really don’t want it happening again. It seems the only really safe place for it will be Karres itself.”
“Karres is short on the minerals it needs to thrive. They’d have to look after it very carefully. I think it would be miserable,” said the Leewit. “We should take it home.”
“That’s all very well, but we have no idea where ‘home’ is,” said Me’a. “I had never heard of such a creature. It’s not like its owners are out looking for it, and putting up notices on the walls. We don’t even know where to start.”
“I think I do,” said Goth. “And maybe they have even been searching. Something odd has been going on. I’ve been putting clues together. I have been checking on some of the star charts, looking up what information we have on the systems we’ve been to. And there is a pattern. And that pattern relates to metal-leaf trees, and”—she pointed at Tippi, who wrinkled her nose at her—“rochats.”
“Cinderby’s World and Na’kalauf don’t have metal-leaf trees, but do have rochats.”
“Rochats don’t breed on Na’kalauf. They’re brought in, mostly from Serax, which does have metal-leaf trees, or the Armbour system, that did, before they got chopped down. Cinderby’s World…well, it doesn’t. It’s too windy, I suspect. But it’s also a world with a lot more heavy metals than average—the same as everything I can find on the others. When you look at where the systems with rochats and/or metal-leaf trees are—there are only twenty of them, and they’re in an expanding cone down this edge of the galactic arm. They weren’t introduced by humans—they were there when the first humans arrived. The cone doesn’t have a point, but if it did it would be outside the border of the Empire. Off the southwestern border zone. And the leaves of the metals trees are the Arerrerr’s food. From what I ‘read,’ that is what it has always eaten, including a variety that’s rich in selenium.”
“I see,” said the captain. “If we find the point of that ‘cone’ and we have the planet the Arerrerr came from. Well, it gives us an area of space, but there are a lot of suns out there…”
“I’ve got the coordinates,” said Goth. “I’ve been there. I saw a rochat, was wrapped in a blanket of rochat wool, and it’s full of metal trees, and has a plant the Arerrerr remembers—the paratha spice, that doesn’t grow anywhere else. The world is scarred by signs of an interstellar war and has alien structures on it big enough to see from space. That might account for why the Arerrerr was left here. They expected to come back for it.”
“You mean…” He looked at Goth. “The planet you got poisoned on? The planet my mother is on? The planet where my father was killed?”
“Looks like it. And it’s all too convenient. I haven’t gotten all the pieces yet. It’s got aliens, little hairy-tailed ones, but they don’t look like what the Arerrerr thinks of as its caretakers Something has been manipulating us. I really don’t like that. I don’t think Karres will either.”
“So what do we do?” asked Me’a. “My own strategic advice would be to back off, and force the enemy to play on a ground of our choosing. But,” she smiled, “I have learned that you do things in your own way.”
“We’re going in,” said the captain. “Only we’re going in ready for trouble. They may find us more trouble than they thought. I don’t think they’re likely to know what they’re dealing with. They may find they have a lelundel by the tail. Besides, I want a meeting with whomever shot Goth. And with this Pnaden and his bunch of creeps.”
“That’s not a group that needs to get their hands on the Arerrerr. They’d be as bad as, or even worse than, the Somans,” pointed out Ta’zara.
“Sounds like it. We’ll have to keep a sharp watch-out for their ship,” said the captain. “You said it was quite well armed, and bigger than the Venture, didn’t you, Goth?”
“Yeah. But it is not going anywhere, unless they found the parts I stashed in the processing plant. And I don’t think anyone had moved that cover in a lot of years,” said Goth. “They’re stuck there unless they have another ship.”
“Cornered rats make dangerous rats,” said Me’a.
“True enough,” said the captain. “Well, we’ll deal with it when we get there. But first we’ve got to get there. Let’s get those coordinates, Goth. Do some calculations, and plan our route.”
“It’s a fair way outside the border, Captain. Fuel…”
“Vezzarn took advantage of sitting around at the spaceport in Karoda to refuel. We’re near as full as we can hold, barring a little wastage on the atmospheric work,” said the captain. “So: What do you have to say, Leewit?”
“It’s best for the Arerrerr,” said the Leewit. “So long as she’s safe and these aliens can stop anyone taking her away. Do you think so, Goth?”
“The little aliens I saw? The Gaks, or as Lina called them, Gyak? Nope. But…something that is able to push Karres witches around. Maybe. And they have been pushing us.”
The Leewit nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll find out first. But I don’t think I like being pushed around.”
“Neither do I,” said Goth.
* * *
The run toward Lumajo was not without a bit of excitement. However, compared to some of the trips they’d been on, there were plenty of skilled and able crew now to take watches. It was a luxury, the captain decided, he could even get used to. There was a good chance of pirates out here—and they had to rely on the Sheewash to put them out of range of an Imperial Space Navy patrol. That put Goth in mind of the fact that the Bolivar had known exactly when and where the supposedly secret patrol routes were. She told the captain about it. “Well, we can drop a few words in relevant ears in the Imperial Court,” he said. “Knowing it is happening will make catching them easier. Or if all else fails, we can go hunting.”
“Later.” She smiled at him. “Got things to do on Karres, soon.”
“What?”
She grinned, pure Goth mischief. “You’ll find out, Captain.” And she would say no more.
“Hmm.” He smiled at her. “Everyone is playing games with me. Including, I suspect, vatches. I’ve been relling them for the last few days. So far off that I almost can’t be sure…”
“Big ones or little ones?” asked Goth. It was an important distinction, seeing as the captain could handle the big ones. Pull them inside out, if need be. It was the little ones that were a problem. But other than petty mischief the little ones hadn’t given them as much trouble, and a fair amount of help, when they felt like it. They were very like the Leewit’s Tippi—they’d do things if they wanted to, if it entertained them. Human stage plays had amused them, but one never knew how long that would last.
As they swung into orbit around the world, there was no doubt that Lumajo had been subjected to…something. There were deep scars across her landmasses, cutting into her seas, and plainly where the variegated greens of her forest struggled to get a toehold. There were still plenty of the alien structures—some even on the path of whatever weapon had been employed from space to make those scars. The scars stopped where they hit them.
“So, exactly where are we heading for?” asked the captain. A world was a vast place. Finding just where Goth had set down with the Bolivar had been troubling him for a few days.
“Well,” said Me’a, who happened be on watch at that time, looking at the Venture’s instruments. “There’s a signal beacon transmitting. I’d guess that might well be them.”
“It seems pretty likely,” said the captain. “But unless they’re hoping for a rescue, a bit surprising.”
“It’s not a very strong transmission. Let me see if I can amplify it.” She fiddled briefly. A voice issued from the speakers, but not in any language that the captain knew. He turned to the Leewit. “What are they saying?”
The Leewit listened and translated. “They say: ‘SOS. This is Colony Ship Ascension, First Lieutenant Rao. We have had engine failure, have made forced planetfall, require assistance.’ And the same again. And again.”
“An automated signal. It may be set up to respond to ships. I suppose we’ll have to see what we can do. It is surprising that it’s not in Galactic Standard.”
“It could be a trap. I wouldn’t put that past Pnaden and his crowd,” said Goth.
“Yes, but why not say it in Galactic Standard?” asked Me’a. “You’re more likely to catch people that way. I’m searching the Imperial Ship Registry at the moment but it doesn’t look like they have a vessel of that name recorded.”
“Can we pinpoint the transmission?”
“Got it,” Me’a was an expert with her ability to use almost any form of gadgetry, especially computerized devices. “I am getting a visual and instrument scan on the area.”
She did. The screens showed a zoom on an area of deep, dark green jungle.
“That isn’t the smuggler’s base,” said Goth. “Unless the trees grow up really, really fast.”
“I’m getting the deep-radar image and heat scan. But the trees mask most things. There is a definite pattern in the trees though. They’re not as tall down that line. Ah. Maximum resolution on the end area… Great Patham! That’s huge.”
It was. Even the trees couldn’t hide the metallic width of it, although they overhung the edges.
“That’s bigger than most battle cruisers,” said the captain, awed.
“Yes,” said Me’a. “Look at the measurements on screen. There hasn’t been a ship that size built for a long time. They’re just too inefficient.”
“Is it a human ship?” asked Goth. “I mean species doesn’t make any difference to the Leewit. She’d translate talking plants. And this place plainly went through a war. Maybe it is—or was—a battleship?”
“Was. There are definitely trees growing through parts of it. I’d guess it has been there a while,” said the captain.
“I suppose we could set down somewhere near it, and I could read it,” said Goth. “But that’s not the smugglers.”
“I think I have located those for you too,” said Me’a. “I was looking for a landing site, when we zoomed in. Quite near that, relatively speaking. Hang on. I’ll just find it again.”
She did. And this was far more recognizable to Goth. Unlike most of the land area, it was clearly not forested. Zooming in they could see the compound and the landing field. It did have a spacecraft parked on it. “Ah,” said Goth. “They didn’t get very far. I don’t think we ought to land there, though.”
“No. Although the problem is: If not there, where? In the forest would be risky. On one of the scars?”
“It depends. They could be radioactive…but if not, at least they’re not too full of trees.”
“It is difficult to assess radiation from this height,” said Me’a. “The world has not gotten a nuclear glow, and the encampment of the smugglers is relatively close to one. I doubt if there’d be a problem with touching down. We could leave in a hurry if it was ‘hot.’”
The captain pointed to the screen. “If we land next to that alien structure, where the burn scar stops, we’d be relatively close to the wrecked ship. I think it is an automatic beacon and has been there a long time, but there could be people needing rescue. We’ll probably find some of the locals too. It sounds like that’ll be a starting point for finding my mother. And we may have to pay these smugglers a visit, but dropping in on them gives them the fire advantage. Besides…I feel good about that spot.”
“Then it should be that spot,” said the Leewit firmly, before Goth chimed in to agree. They knew the captain’s hunches well, and trusted them.
It was a relatively cautious landing, since the captain was sure the smugglers would have some detectors. They might even have surface-to-air missiles of a sort. And a ship was vulnerable coming in to land. He was keyed up and watchful doing so…
And nearly lost control at the last moment, because he spotted something that could only be a spaceship at the edge of the forest. It was too late to pull out, so he set the Venture down. The instruments gave no hint of abnormal radiation, and as soon as the smoke and steam cleared he saw the other ship would be no danger to him. It was a wreck.
It was also a one-man Imperial scout ship.