Get Off the Unicorn (19 page)

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Authors: Anne McCaffrey

BOOK: Get Off the Unicorn
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She dragged herself and her burden into the cave and then, with a sigh of complete fatigue, curled around the cube, one hand seemingly welded to the shock web. That protective reflex as well as the darkening skies prevented Murv from locating her when he finally realized that she was no longer climbing ahead of him.

He had followed cautiously, therefore slowly, and was not unduly alarmed when he could no longer see the straining figure with its awkward load. At first, he wondered how the pirate could have gotten so far ahead of him. Then he reached the highest ridge of the southern escarpment and realized that the pirate must have taken cover. From here, the island jutted outward and downward.

At that moment Murv caught sight of the half-submerged craft. “Fladding stupid fool. He isn't going anywhere.” He laughed. “But then is he?”

Carefully Murv worked over to the ship, using the tumbled rockscape to cover his advance, keeping close watch on the open hatch lest the pirate discover him prematurely. He agilely reached the open lock, listening for any sounds of activity within. It wasn't a large vessel but a single cabin job. He gave the deserted interior one sweeping look. So, the guy hadn't made it back. He'd gone to ground somewhere up in the crags.

Murv began to pick his way up again, following Shahanna's original route so, his back to the sea, he was unaware that he was being observed.

Odis had allowed the tides to pull him back under water, deep enough so that his progress could not be seen. He surfaced again, twice, in fact, looking for a way up the rock face so that he could outflank Murv. He was annoyed that it was Murv up there on the rocks. Annoyed but puzzled. Murv gave every appearance of a man hiding. But why should he hide if he were the pirate's contact? And where was the iodine?

Where, too, was Murv's fishboat?

Glancing up at the clouds scudding and boiling on the horizon, Odis considered his next move. He had kept the drone just above the cloud cover, but now he directed it down to the northern part of the island to take a skimming run, hopefully to detect Murv's craft. The wind was rising enough to cover the whistling sound of a drone. Odis flipped on the visor and blinked at the rushing ocean picture on the tiny screen. He sent it twice over the northern arc of the island and it spotted his own boat moored to the east. But he found no trace of another fishboat, either visually or sonically. So he sent the drone aloft, remembering to check the wind velocity to be sure the drone was at a safe altitude. Then he sat down to think.

No ship. Had Murv lost his fishboat in the storm? Murv had a tendency to be too quick. After all, he wasn't all that accustomed to Welladan storm conditions. Of course, Murv might have discovered a ledge and moored the boat under that. One thing was certain, the pirate was going no place.

But who had blown off the after-section of the pirate's vessel? Had the Investigator arrived, spotted the pirate ship, and blasted it? If so, the Investigator must surely be at Shoulder now, so all Odis need do was wait until the storm lifted enough to get a message back there. He settled down to wait, keeping a weather eye on the approaching storm front. He had no intention of cutting it too close back to the safety of his own boat.

So why was Murv hiding? Had those three space shots been hostile rather than for identification?

The rain-laden wind began to keen in the darkening sky. Gouts of lightning spat through the bilious clouds. Warm air masses were moving in, Odis thought with pleasure. Storm is breaking up a little. Weather was capricious: a real mach-storm like this one, despite the pull of two moons and the conjunction of another planetary mass, could break up with a crustal shift up north.

Murv was moving, not merely shifting position but moving forward, darting to cover as he worked his way back up the slope. The rising wind was bothering him, Odis decided, and followed him obliquely. A flash of a head beam and Odis saw that Murv was definitely searching among the hollows and crevices of the cliff. Odis climbed faster.

He arrived in time to hear raised voices echoing in an argument. But the sounds were so diffuse and the rising wind so noisy that he could not pinpoint their location. Odis cursed softly under his breath as he jumped from crag to block, flashing his own beam in and out the darker hollows.

The next thing he knew, Murv had emerged from a low ledge, his arms wrapped around a foam-cask. Since there was no chance for Murv to reach his hand weapon, Odis stunned him with a full charge, neatly catching the cube as Murv folded.

Keeping one hand on the cube, Odis knelt and flashed his beam into the cavern. He caught sight of a dark lump that was a prostrate body. He turned it over and was reassured by a groan.

Rain began to spray across his back as he crouched between the two unconscious forms. He could just leave them here; they'd both be out a while. No. He didn't know where Murv's boat was and he couldn't permit the man to escape. Resigned, Odis settled down to wait.

 

“I don't know what you expected to find here,” Okker said, his seamed face flushed with anger, “but are you satisfied now?”

“I really don't understand, Investigator,” Tallav put in with understandable anxiety as he picked his way across the debris. “You certainly cannot have suspected Okker here, and he is absolutely the only one permitted in the Eye.”

Brack was sweating from his exertions. He had pulled out every drawer, shelf, and movable fixture in the rock chamber, rapped on every inch of the rock walls, trying to find a hollow. He had moved his geiger counter over everything without a crackle for his pains. He didn't mind alienating Tallav or the ancient, but he was furious over the fruitlessness of his search. He glanced at the two men, somehow now allied against him. That wouldn't do.

“This is the only installation known as the Eye on Welladay, isn't it?” he demanded curtly.

“What's left of it,” Okker replied.

“Unavoidable. I . . . I intercepted a message, obviously from the pirates, setting up a contact point. I caught only part of it due to the storm's interference.
Southern edge of the lagoon where the eye is centered
.”

Brack pointed to the lagoon harbor which the single big window of the harbormaster's control room overlooked. “Your control room is on the southern edge of the lagoon. This place is called the Eye. What other eyes are there on this fladding planet?”

Okker regarded him with a deep scowl, then slapped his thigh, and burst out into a cackle.

“You sure you heard
where
, and not
when
?” He pointed an accusing finger at the Investigator as he danced about in an excess of amusement.

“You fladding idiot, stop that!”

“I believe I can answer you, Investigator,” Tallav said, his manner stiff as he waved Okker to be still. “Logical topical references are deceptive to a newcomer.” He smiled at the Investigator. “You see, this is not the only lagoon on Welladay. It is therefore possible that the message, which you say you heard imperfectly due to faulty transmission, said
when
, not
where
. Therefore, I presume the contact point meant the southern edge of the Crown Lagoon, when the eye of the storm was centered on it. Really, most ingenious. With proper timing, the pirate could make contact, pick up the radioactive iodine, and be off without ever being detected through the storm.”

Brack swung around toward the exit. “Let's go then!”

“To Crown?” Okker cackled, reinfected with ill-timed amusement. “Not now. Eye's over Crown right now so they've made contact and the radioactive iodine is no doubt off-world. You blew it, Investigator!”

Brack seemed about to explode. Then, with a massive effort, he controlled himself and began to smile ominously. “No, that's where you're wrong, Okker. There can have been no contact because I disabled a small spaceship just after I picked up the message. Got a direct hit and saw it tumbling out of control. So that iodine is still on this world, waiting to be picked up. And I intend to do just that!”

“Not till the storm has cleared Crown, you aren't. Drones can't handle that kind of turbulence, not unless they go above it; and that's got to be too high for non-pressurized cabins,” Okker told him.

“I hadn't planned to use local transport.” Brack's smile broadened.

“Couldn't. Ain't even a fishboat left with sound seams. And,” Okker pointed a nobby finger at the Investigator, “you just forget trying to make it in your spacecraft between now and the time the rest of the storm hits Crown. You couldn't do it on the trajectory you'd need.”

“If only Sharkey were back with the boat he was testing,” Tallav muttered, “that vessel could stand the trip. We have to get that iodine.” Tallav turned to Okker. “Hasn't that squall along the coast lifted enough for us to find Sharkey? Where could he be?”

Okker shrugged. “That squall came up sudden. He probably had the good sense to head for the open sea to avoid getting smashed. He doesn't like to go seaward though,” he contradicted himself, “so it won't hurt to look for him, before the whales do.”

“Before the whales do?” Brack queried.

“Like I said, the whales don't like Sharkey. I'll get a weather picture. We're clear enough to receive . . .”

A bleep made the rest of his sentence inaudible.

“Odis to Eye, Odis to Eye: Drone-relay transmission. Proceeding Crown Lagoon at 1930 hours. Checking out spacecraft trajectory plotted toward Crown.” A second raucous bleep.

“Of all the nerve,” gasped Tallav, the first to recover.

“Must be that ship you shot up,” Okker said to Brack with more respect than he had previously shown.

“He ought not to take such risks,” Tallav muttered.

“Then he should be at Crown by now?” Brack asked in a tight voice, glancing up at the main chrono.

“Contact that drone, Okker,” Tallav ordered. “Maybe we can relay a message to Odis to search for the iodine.”

“Not if the eye's passed Crown,” Okker grumbled, but his gnarled fingers sped with unexpected agility across the communications board. “Crown's a mighty good place to hide something on—it's full of hollows, caverns, and boulders.”

“Get him to search the southern edge,” Brack snapped.

“Yeah, that's right, isn't it,” Okker said, glancing sideways at the Investigator.

Another unit began to chatter and a sheet of relay paper extruded from a slot.

“Weather relay from a satellite,” Okker said, and grabbed the print before Tallav or Brack could. “Hmmm. Weather's closed in again over Crown, but see here,” his stubby forefinger following the wispy leading edge of the mach-storm, “it's breaking up.” He moved his finger to the right. “And we got some of the bonuses. If you want to find Sharkey, you'd better git. I'll transmit to Odis's drone. This weather looks like it'll clear in another couple of hours and he can look for the iodine. Can't do more'n that now.”

“Be sure to tell him to search diligently for the iodine,” Tallav was saying as Brack urged him out.

Another alert blasted and Tallav hesitated, his eyes widening at the distinctive sound.

“C'mon,” Brack snapped.

“A sublight message?” Tallav moved back into the eye. “Now what?”

“Come!” Brack insisted.

“This is Federation Cruiser DLT-85F, Based Mirfak. A d-k has been received from your planet, Welladay. Coordinates Frame BE-27|186. Search and recover. Search and recover. D-k assigned to Mercy Ship Seginus X. Advise!”

“That pirate ship you shot down was a mercy boat. And it is now on Crown Lagoon,” Okker snapped in a hard voice.

Tallav turned slowly to Brack, his face pale.

“Your pirates are more ingenious than we've given them credit for. Using a mercy boat as a contact vessel. Very clever. We must outsmart them. Catch them red-handed. Let's go, Tallav!”

Then Brack pulled the stunned Planetary Administrator down the corridor. Okker stared after them, his expression bleak, his eyes thoughtful. He turned back to his board then, and began to broadcast a message for Odis's drone to transmit. Then he warmed up the sublight generator. If he was right, Tallav wouldn't scream at the power use.

 

“I'm glad it wasn't you, Murv,” Odis shouted, trying to make himself heard above the storm.

Murv nodded, grinning at Shahanna, who was unselfconsciously taping her orders back to her bare ribs. A bit heavy-boned, Murv thought, but no more flesh on them than was needed to make her a soft handful.

“Who is it?”

Even with Odis's lips tickling his ear, Murv could barely hear above the keening wind. He shrugged, then put his mouth to Odis's ear. “Someone stealing a fishboat, sneaking out under cover of the squall at Shoulder?” He had to repeat his words twice before Odis caught the entire sentence.

“Not past Okker. Only two boats seaworthy, anyhow. No parts!”

“Okker might be in it!”

Odis stared at Murv for a long moment, then shook his head vehemently, denying that possibility. So Murv shrugged and patted the cube of iodine significantly. Odis grinned in comprehension.

Shahanna prodded Murv's possessive hand, then jerked her thumb backward toward herself, rubbing the place where her orders from Federation for a top-priority requisition of radioactive iodine were taped. She emphatically pantomimed the quantity of iodine needed. Odis continued to nod and patted her hand reassuringly. She glared at Murv, who just grinned back with sheer deviltry in his eyes. When she realized he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of an acknowledgment, she reached across and gripped Odis firmly on the shoulder in an ostentatious gesture of friendship. She almost wished Murv had been the pirate, instead of the agent. She wondered if the ID plate, indisputable evidence of his authenticity, ever ached the arm-bone in which it had been implanted. He needn't have walloped her so hard when he snatched the iodine. But then, she mused, he had acted within the scope of the information he possessed at that time. Just as Odis had when he knocked Murv out. She was sorry that she couldn't describe the fishman who had thrown the cube at her feet. She had gotten the most fleeting glimpse of him but she was sure she would be able to recognize him. However, that time was long off, judging by the siren winds. Shahanna arranged herself into as comfortable a position as she could and closed her eyes.

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