Ancestor's World (30 page)

Look! They've spotted the Sisters!"

"I see!" Khuharkk's hackles rose up in a ruff of thick orange fur. "And yes, there is likely a pilot on standby, in the transport. I would order such a thing if I were in charge of a Fight Group."

Etsane watched as three of the four ground guards moved away from the corrals, circling around the gray tube of the transport, and headed out to meet the two Na-Dina. A new movement showed in the cargo hold lock.

"Look! The Anuran is coming out, too."

Khuharkk' was panting with eagerness. "Just a little farther,"

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he urged the slavers. "Go. Go around the ship's tail end. Go!"

Etsane scanned the ground between her and the nearest corral. The distance was a long five hundred meters. The ground was mostly open and grassy, with only a small boulder scattered here and there. Most boulders were tiny, not big enough to hide behind. A very few were person-sized. One of that size lay on the far side of the valley, close to the approaching Na-Dina Guard Sisters.

Almost ready... any moment now...

She tensed, waiting for astamari Mitchell to give the word to rush.

She and Khuharkk' were stationed at the outer edge of the left flank. If they moved ahead of the rest of the group, they would not interfere with anyone's aim. They were both fast, she knew. If only they could be quick enough to stop the remaining guard from turning on the rescuers and slaves with his blaster!

Etsane thought of her father, of his carved wooden staff, of the tribal scars on his cheeks, and of how he had been a fierce believer in freedom for all.

Father, help me to free these people, she prayed silently.

Suddenly the order came. "Go!"

Springing to her feet, Etsane raced like the wind.

Khuharkk' bounded down the grassy slope and surged forward on all fours, glorying in the challenge he faced. Here was an Honor Challenge that would bring Honor to his entire clan!

Etsane raced along beside him, her two feet flashing as her long bare legs propelled her forward, nearly matching his own four-footed gallop. He admired her for her speed; few humans could run with a Simiu the way she was doing.

Ahead of them, a few of the captives were staring at them, a slow, reluctant hope dawning on their faces.

He angled his forward rush so as to keep the bulk of the stone hut between him and the single guard, a Dmian, whose back now faced them. Briefly, he felt relief that the sole guard on this side of the transport was not one of the 219

two Heeyoon or the heavyset human. Both species had excellent hearing, and they would have heard them earlier than the Dmian.

Off to his right, the other rescuers hurtled down the slope. Professor Greyshine and Doctor Strongheart were in the lead a bit, despite their age.

Heeyoon could run almost as fast as Simiu. And, truth to be told, they had the lungs for long-distance running, which he did not. Natual ran respectably, though he did no better than the talon-footed Na- Dina. They bounded along like the Earth kangaroos he'd seen in a wildlife holo, but the aliens battled more wind resistance than he or others who ran close to the ground. Ttalatha ch'aakki was a masked blur of cream and chocolate fur, her narrow tail stretched out straight behind her. Mahree and Doctor Mitchell held the center of their line, doing well for humans of their age, but still more than a hundred meters behind him and Etsane.

She was running easily, twirling her sling as she readied it for her toss.

Though it was a weapon, Khuharkk' had grown to admire her skill with it.

Khuharkk' fixed his attention on the stone hut, alert for the sudden emergence of an unseen smuggler. If anyone was unlucky enough to emerge from that doorway, he was ready.

Etsane kept her eyes on the back of the Drnian guard, who held a blaster in one hand, a stun-prod in the other. The male stood halfway between the stone hut and the front end of the transport, behind which moved the three other guards and the Anuran overseer, who were still walking out to confront the Guard Sisters.

She fixed her eyes on the middle of the guard's back. Her readings about Drnian physiology had told her that Natual's people had a spinal cord that was very similar to human anatomy. A direct hit at the base of the neck or the spine--depending on how her target was standing--should prove

incapacitating.

She revved the sling to high spin. She and Khuharkk' were now more than halfway to the corrals and the guard,

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approaching at a slant from the left side. The others were now far behind.

Eying the distance left, she decided she was close enough to make her first shot. A little under two hundred meters ... at that distance, she seldom missed.

Aiming with her shoulder, she spun, and snap-tossed.

Khuharkk', seeing her throw, angled toward the hut. Still running, Etsane reloaded her sling, spun the stone, and threw again just as the first stone hit the Drnian guard right in the middle of his back.

His blaster fell to the ground, but, as he doubled over and fell to his knees, he managed to hang onto his stun- prod.

"The hut!" Khuharkk' shouted. "Someone's inside!"

Etsane's second stone hit the left shoulder of the Dmian, causing him to drop the stun-prod. The alien's big red eyes stared at them in shock. His mouth opened--he was going to warn the others! Quick as thought, Etsane spun her third stone, snapped it forward, and watched with satisfaction as it hit the Drnian's bulging forehead. "Yes!" she breathed to herself as the guard toppled over bonelessly.

Motion blurred on her left.

A tall, skinny human rushed out of the stone hut with a blaster belt in hand, at first running toward the fallen guard, then turning when he heard their pounding footfalls. He wore only shorts, as if he'd been asleep. With fear-widened eyes, he struggled to loose the blaster from the holster. Khuharkk'

hit him in a deadly parody of a football tackle. They rolled over and over, and she could hear nothing except his screams and the Simiu's growls.

Etsane swerved toward the corrals, where a dozen captives were aware enough to have struggled to their feet. Three humans, two men and a woman, gathered up the few rocks lying in the front corral. Nearby, the two Heeyoon captives who'd been hit with the stun-prod did the same. Other captives were alerting their fellows to the rescue, cautioning quiet. She waved at them, her hands motioning them to lie flat.

"Down!" she hissed as she skidded up to the nearest

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corral. "Get down," she said in Mizari, hoping some of them knew the language. "There's going to be shooting!"

One of the men, a young man in his twenties who showed a red welt across one cheek, Asian eyes, and grim anger, nodded at her. "Right!" He turned from collecting rocks to urging and gesturing the captives to lie flat.

Etsane rounded the corral grouping, coming to a stop by the front corral entrance. After collecting the unconscious Drnian guard's blaster, she climbed over the metal gate and crouched behind its open framework, determined to keep the slavers from harming her charges. Behind her pounded the footfalls of Mahree, Doctor Mitchell, Greyshine, Strongheart, Pokeel, Natual, Ttalatha and the other Na- Dina, closing rapidly.

Scrieee!

Etsane flinched as a blaster fired on the far side of the slaver transport. Oh, no! Had Bites-Hard been shot?

"Dishonorable coward!" yelled Khuharkk' as the skinny human spun away from the Simiu's claws and teeth, leaving behind trails of red blood and the blaster belt. The wounded guard headed for the rampway leading up to the open lock of the cargo hold.

Etsane reloaded her sling, thought of knocking him out, then let him escape as the two Heeyoon crew-guards rounded the nose of the transport, double streaks of gray fur as they ran toward Khuharkk'. She turned to aim her sling at them, but one of her comrades fired a pulse-gun, its blue bolt of electrical fire passing over the corrals to hit the nearer Heeyoon, who fell unconscious.

The other Heeyoon moved toward Etsane, one paw-hand drawing his blaster.

It never even occurred to her to use the blaster--instead her reaction was automatic, just as it had been back in the hills above Gonder. Snap! Her stone hurtled toward him, but the alien, warned, had a Heeyoon's quick reflexes, and he managed to dodge her throw.

He aimed his blaster at Etsane, who froze. "Now you die!" he snarled in his own language, which, unfortunately, she understood all too well.

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Blap!

Without warning, he staggered backward, blood spouting from his chest as one of the Na-Dina Guards scored a mortal hit. Etsane looked back the way she'd come, unable to see her savior. But she did see the others running up to the back corral and spreading out to defend the captives. Mahree, Teacher Mitchell, and Pokeel were a tight threesome.

"Look out!" cried one of the human women behind her. Etsane whirled, saw where the woman was pointing.

The Anuran overseer and the remaining Drnian guard ran around the tail of the transport, only to be confronted by Khuharkk' and a mass of Na-Dina Guards kneeling on the ground, rifles at the ready. The other human slaver guard, a bearded man, suddenly darted into view. "I'll cover you!" he shouted.

The Anuran and the Drnian lowered their blasters and bolted for the loading ramp. The human glared wildly at the slaves, and then, deliberately, aimed his blaster at the terrified people huddled on the ground.

Scrieee!

The man uttered a high-pitched shriek that was cut short, and suddenly half his body was no longer there. Etsane gasped in horror as the remaining half crumpled and fell.

She fought back nausea.

Blap, blap, blap!
That was the rifle fire from the Sisters. Their bullets kicked up dirt just behind the fleeing Anuran and the female Drnian guard, who angled to keep the front corral between them and the rescuers as they ran toward the transport's ramp.

The Drnian male whom Etsane had downed suddenly appeared, running behind them.

A well-placed Na-Dina bullet dropped him in his tracks.

The Anuran and the Drnian had made it--zigging and weaving, they'd reached the rampway and dashed up it, just as two pulse-gun shots ricocheted off the hull of the ship.

Suddenly a high-pitched hum sounded as the unseen pilot switched on his main drive.

Mahree ran up, her blaster raised to cover the open lock. "You hurt?" she yelled at Etsane.

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"No!" Etsane watched as Mahree just stood by the corral gate, not firing.

"Shoot the ship! Keep it from taking off!"

"No!" Mahree kept her blaster aimed, but did not fire. "Let them escape. If they're cornered, they'll use their blasters. Or worse."

As Etsane watched, trembling with rage and hatred, the gray tube of the transport shuddered, then rose on its a- gravs, its main drive tubes glowing as the pilot prepared to push the craft away from the grassy valley.

With a rush, the ship was gone, nothing but a shrinking dot in the pale sky of Ancestor's World.

Etsane felt her legs go weak. She looked up as Mahree unlatched the corral gate and came up to her. "They deserved to die," Etsane said bitterly. "You should have fired that blaster at the ship. You could have disabled them, so we could have gone in after them."

Mahree looked upset by her words. "Etsane ... if we'd disabled the ship, they could have fired their main drives here on the ground and vaporized all of us!

Did you think of that?"

Etsane felt her mouth drop open in horror as she pictured what could have happened. No, she hadn't thought of that. "You're right," she whispered to Mahree. "Oh, God, you're right."

"Actually, it was Gordon who warned me," Mahree said, smiling at the archaeologist as he came over to see how they were. "I wouldn't have thought of it, but he did."

Etsane gazed at Mitchell. "You were wise, astamari."

Later, she sat in the shade of the stone house, exhausted, sick and trembling with reaction, and watched the mopping- up operation by the Guard Sisters.

Pokeel whistle-clicked rapid-fire orders, setting up a defensive line around the stone hut and corrals, just in case the slavers tried to return with reinforcements. Doctor Mitchell went up to the ridge to move the shuttle down, so they could bring the freed slaves aboard.

Doctor Strongheart and one of Pokeel's field medics treated the wounded, including the groggy Heeyoon prisoner.

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Bites-Hard, it turned out, had been badly burned when the Anuran had fired his blaster at her, just as she ducked behind a boulder for cover. No one was sure whether she would survive. Etsane fervently hoped so. She was still amazed by the Guard Sister's courage at walking right into the slaver camp.

One of the captives, the Vardi, had perished from heat prostration. But sixty-one of the captives had survived, with only minor injuries.

Natual, Ttalatha, Professor Greyshine, and Mahree were ministering to the captives, comforting them, offering water and salt tablets, and helping them realize that they were finally free after their ordeal.

Khuharkk' came over to sit down beside Etsane. The Simiu's feet and hands were scraped raw from the run over the rocky ground. Violet-hued eyes inspected her. "You earned great Honor today, Etsane."

She laid her head back against the door post and fought back hysterical tears. "I don't feel very well, Khuharkk'." She mustered a quivery laugh. "I've got the shakes so bad that I can't even stand up."

"Battle is never easy," he said, "and the aftermath is often even worse than the actual event."

"No kidding," she said. "But, Khuharkk'... you fought well, also. You earned great honor."

It helped to remember that he was her friend, and someone she could lean on, as she had the other night.

"We earned Honor together," he said solemnly. "I would like to share our Honor always. If you agree, I would consider us Honor-Bound from this day on."

"What does that mean?" she asked. "Tell me, so I'll understand what an honor I'm being given."

"It means that from now on, your Honor is my Honor, and my honor is yours.