Crisis On Doona (2 page)

“In the words of an unknown but often quoted Terran philosophist, ‘ain’t that the truth!’ ”

As the first successful attempt at colonization of a nonmining, pastoral world, Doona was the natural focus of much curiosity and speculation on Earth. The Space Department and the Colonial Department of the Amalgamated Worlds were beside themselves with pride and worry lest the experiment prove to be a failure, after all, leaving them without sufficient funding or approval to send more missions and colonists into space.

Spacedep, as represented by then-Commander Al Landreau, had suffered humiliation in the Amalgamated Worlds government when the first Terran colonists found a Hrruban village on Doona across the river from their own landing site. No habitation had shown up in any of Landreau’s scans, but the village was discovered to be very much an inhabited site. Because it was Ken Reeve
—
and his six-year-old son, Todd
—
who had managed to prove that aliens were, in fact, resident on Doona. Landreau resented the Reeve family more than any of the other eleven original colonists. Not only did the mysterious appearance of an alien species on Doona seriously compromise the Phase I operation under Spacedep, and Commander Al Landreau; but also the repercussions reverberated through the Colonial Department (Codep) for permitting Phase II to be initiated and colonists placed on the planet. The most stringent rule of the Terran Colonization Plan was to avoid planets which harbored another sentient species.

Landreau was not actually at fault. The Hrrubans had not been “in residence” at the time of his extensive survey. By matter transmitter, the Hrrubans had moved their entire village back to their home planet of Hrruba, since the winter months on Doona/Rrala were long and harsh. But Landreau neither forgot nor forgave the humiliation of being wrong.

However, the visionary leaders of both species had decided to make the best of this coincidental colonization: to prove that two alien species could interact without exploitation or contamination. Doona/Rrala became the vital test for Human and Hrruban.

The original colonists of both species were allowed to stay, and more of each species joined the project, under the loosest of control by their respective governments. Both races were determined to make this project work and prosper. And they were scrupulous in keeping to the rules laid down by the momentous Decision at Doona, where a six-year-old boy translated the relevant clauses.

The original twenty-five years of that Decision were nearly over and renegotiation soon to be discussed. Both Todd and Hrriss knew of the recent incidents which they were certain had been arranged with the express aim of creating dissension between Hrruban and Human, rupturing the Treaty, and, more important, preventing a renewal of the unique settlement on Doona/Rrala.

Over 100,000 settlers, Doonan and Rralan, now lived on the beautiful planet, year in and out, benefiting from their complementary skills and strengths, and surviving the intense and bitter winters by mutual support. If the Treaty was not renewed, the settlers would be forced to return to homeworlds with which they were no longer in charity. More heart-rending, staunch friends would be forever separated: like Todd and Hrriss.

All the while that Hrrubans and Hayumans lived in harmony on their planet, space exploration had exploded in all directions
—
always aware that each species was forbidden to explore sectors clearly marked with space buoys of the other.

Although Landreau never forgave either species, he had gone on to discover so many other systems and planets useful to his own kind that he quickly achieved the rank of Admiral. In a way he owed that to the Decision at Doona, which had brought him to the notice of his superiors. His own efforts had kept him in a highly visible situation. Judicious manipulations on his part, the tacit assistance of powerful companies interested in acquiring rich planets, moons, and asteroids, and diplomatic overtures to high-ranking government officials had resulted in his promotion to the head of Spacedep, twenty-two years after the Doona affair.

Landreau had looked for, and found, others who shared his dislike of the Doona Decision. Some purists had always argued that a treaty promulgated through the linguistic precocity of a kid had to be defective. Certainly that most honest and unambiguous of treaties proved troublesome to some ambitious and aggressive Humans.

Landreau carefully cultivated such officials, always seeking a way to burst the Doonan idyll
—
and avenge himself on the Reeves. Subtly, of course, for he would not risk his current high status: especially one which allowed him the facilities of Spacedep’s far-flung resources and highly skilled and trained personnel. If some of the immense budget available to Spacedep’s Commander in Chief was siphoned off to explore a way to achieve personal vengeance, it was admirably hidden in the morass of official reports, payments, and analyses.

There was, however, another covert reason for subverting the Doona Experiment: Hrrubans and Humans, dissimilar in form, needed similar worlds to colonize, and for the same pressures. If Doona failed, all terms of the Treaty were null and void. The forbidden sections of space would be open once again to Admiral Landreau’s mighty vessels and well-armed fleets, and if the rich world was already inhabited by a Hrruban colony, tough on them! A few well-placed germbombs and the Cohabitation Principle was invalid. Unless, of course, other factions of Earth’s government could be persuaded how archaic the principle was and rescind it. How much easier would life be on Earth if one could ship out the unwashed masses to fend for themselves on new worlds with viceroys to skim the riches off the top.

The Doonan settlers were certainly aware of Admiral Landreau’s hatred, and his machinations, and there were many adherents on both home worlds that did their best to neutralize some of the worst of Landreau’s subtle campaign in various government offices. Though Ken and Todd had never vocalized it, they knew that they were Landreau’s particular target. Landreau regarded Todd as an incorrigibly wild brat who went native with distressing speed after landing on Doona. Todd’s assimilation of the formalities of High Hrruban diplomacy at the age of six, Landreau dismissed as a fluke.

Hrriss, now nearly thirty-five, always had a cooler way of interpreting a situation than his tall friend. Hrrubans were unassailable by any power from Earth. By Treaty agreement, the arm of the galaxy which the Hrrubans chose to explore was off limits to Terrans. Hrruba’s home system was protected by the same Treaty. Any incursion into either sphere would be an act of war. Even Landreau in his obsessive hatred for the Reeves would hardly start a war between the species to get at a single family. Though Hrruba was run by a bureaucracy of great antiquity fully as cumbersome as that of Earth, it was directed gently by one mind whose interests allowed expansion and alliance to proceed. Hrriss and his family were unlikely to be removed from their home for any reason less serious than war. It brought Hrriss’s need to defend to two foci: Zodd and the Rrev family.

“I know Landreau’s working every angle to spoil our chances if he can,” Todd said. “But the Doona Experiment is doing incredibly well, and everyone on Earth knows it. There would have to be an awful stink raised to bring the Experiment to an end at this point.”

“A diplomatic insult, perhaps?” Hrriss suggested delicately. “A wedge need not be a large one to drive two elements apart. On Rrala, Terra, or Hrruba, it makes little difference.”

“Well, if Landreau thought he could start one on this latest diplomatic mission of ours, he failed.” Todd grinned. “Rogitel of Spacedep sounded like he wanted to start an argument with me at the banquet on Hrretha, but I pretended to be bogged down in protocol
—
fardles, I know all the moves better than he does,” Todd said with a snort, his eyes on the screen. Their quarry had reappeared on their side of the planet, and its orbit remained unchanged. “So I got him talking about exploration in the Eighth Sector
—
safe enough topic.”

“I told you it would be useful to know those details,” and Hrriss dropped his lower jaw in the Hrruban grin. “He tried me later. I refused to be insulted when he called me a would-be Hayuman. If he wishes to create an incident, he will have to try harder.” Hrriss’s wide pink tongue now licked his upper lip, a further sign of amusement. “Varnorian of Codep asked me if it was true that you were applying to join a Hrruban colony to escape penalties from Earth. As if that would not be a Zreaty violation.”

“Glad you batted that rumor out of court. I heard a smitch of it, too, and disavowed it with all the innocence at my command.” Then Todd snorted. “Anyone who knows me knows better than to try something that simple on me.”

The
Albatross
had closed to within thousands of kilometers of its goal. It was easy to swing into orbit from planetary north. The scout had been designed to pass through atmosphere as easily as it did through the frozen void of space. It swept low, across the top of the envelope of atmosphere, above the mass of clouds enveloping the small planet, angling toward the signal.

“If you keep a sharp watch portside, Hrriss,” Todd said, his own eyes on the starboard, “maybe we can catch it first time round and not waste too much time in-system.”

It was Hrriss who first set eyes on the source of the distress signal.

“Zzhere!” he hissed, pointing with one of his extended claws. Todd marked the trajectory of the floating craft, perched just on the edge of orbit. It was too far away for the cameras to discern much detail about the ship itself, but one thing was clear: any passengers would soon become cinders. The orbit had decayed so much that in only a short time. their ship would be inexorably caught by the planet’s gravitation and fall, burning, into the atmosphere.

“Hey, what if we dip below them and drop a tractor cable?” Todd suggested. “You know, that’s awfully small for a ship, even a scout.”

“And bigger than the average escape pod,” Hrriss said, his tone thoughtful.

The size didn’t seem unnatural. Hrruban and Hayuman exploration teams flew variously sized scout vessels. The difference was that the Human teams were larger, or doubled up in specialties. Hrrubans sent out the minimum crew needed to make a primary judgment on a planet. When they found one that warranted a full-team investigation, they dropped a one-way transportation grid to the surface and then ’ported in the appropriate personnel. “It must be Hayumans, then, or they would not still be here calling for help. Standard procedure for Hrrubans is to drop a temporary grid and ’port home safely.”

The
Albatross
used the gravity well of the Hrrilnorr IV to brake its speed. The next time it passed within visual range, Todd was able to plot a course to follow their quarry.

“I have initial telemetry readings. No atmosphere leak from the surface of the craft,” Hrriss said with relief, reading from his scopes for traces of gas.

Though the craft had been able to retain its structural integrity, it was in grave difficulties. Rather than describing a smooth orbit, the speeding vessel jerked and stuttered its way around the fourth planet, as if pulled this way and that by divergent gravity fields. It passed over the day side again. Hrriss and Todd were blinded by the glare of planetary sunrise.

“Attention, the ship,” Hrriss spoke urgently into the comunit, using Terran, broadcasting on all frequencies. “We are the scoutcraft
Albatross.
We are here in answer to your Mayday. Can you read us?” He repeated the hail several times, and then in Hrruban. There was no answer.

He pushed up the gain on the receiver. Nothing came from the speaker but atmospheric noise and the repeated Mayday message.

“They could have lost all communications but the beacon,” he said, plainly worried. “If their life support is already gone ...” Hrriss trailed off and pointedly did not look at Todd.

Todd blanched at that possibility and bent over his controls, trying to keep his face expressionless. “We can spring the tractor line on the craft and haul it in. Passengers could use life suits to access the
Albatross’s
lock.” Hrriss nodded approval of the strategy. “Hope it’s not too late.”

As if taking the pilot’s words as a challenge, the small dot on the horizon appeared to fall out of orbit, heading like a meteor for the brilliant white layer of clouds below.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” said Todd, seizing the manual controls.

Todd drove the scout hard after it, hoping the damaged vessel would not pick up too much speed from the gravitational pull until the
Albatross
could swoop in on it. He toggled the magnetic tractor net into alert status. They were dragging through the top of the atmosphere now as the
Albatross
pursued its quarry, still kilometers ahead. His hands were a blur on the keyboard. Hrriss kept calling out to the ship in both languages, hoping for a reply from the craft ahead. With the sun reflecting off its surface, it was impossible to see more than a vague shape. Hrriss kept requesting on all frequencies for details of the damage the lone ship had suffered.

In the midst of the dense clouds thousands of meters below, Todd at last urged the
Albatross
ahead of the speeding hulk. There was a powerful jerk that bucked them around in their seats when the net of magnetic lines engaged the metal hull of the other.

“Gotcha,” Hrriss said, his teeth snapping in triumph.

“Great. Now let’s just tell those guys to drag ass over here.”