Nimisha's Ship (24 page)

“I can see juvenile shaggies from those grazers on the other continent being taught to pull one of these,” Nimisha said, laughing at such a whimsy.

“They have tried to domesticate them,” Casper surprised them by saying. “But so far they’ve only found the ones the herd rejects, the weak or lame. So long as you feed them, they’re amenable to being kept enclosed. The trouble is they grow up and break out of any enclosure the Sh’im have been able to construct.”

“There are other, smaller grazers,” Nimisha said. She remembered seeing them eating apart from the bigger creatures.

Casper grinned. “They’ve tried. Fast as the Sh’im are, those deer types are faster. We weren’t able to hunt them, much less catch any. First hint of danger and they’re off . . . at incredible speeds. Like the springbok types from old Earth.”

“Didn’t the Altair III colony domesticate their deer types?”

“Finally,” Jon said with a grin.

The Sh’im also spent a great deal of time trying to figure out the use of some of the tools, talking among themselves and turning the equipment this way and that. Then Jon found a pod full of disassembled wagon elements. He showed the Sh’im the instruction booklet with its illustration of the finished product and they went into a frenzy of excitement. One group was trying to push and shove the pod toward the Fiver in their eagerness to take possession of its contents. Others were wildly running up and down the line of pods trying to find a similarly marked one. Jon and Casper managed to convey, with Tim acting as pantomimist, that as many as the Sh’im wanted would be transported. In this first trip, they should take back samples of everything that looked to be useful.

“I had an easier time of it with my girls,” Nimisha said. She and her group happened to find blankets, clothing, pots, pans, and domestic items. They had run back to see what was causing so much hooting and ululation. “The wooden wheels with the metal rims they’re using now are pretty good, considering the materials to hand, but these low-pressure balloon tires will revolutionize travel. Good thing they were reinforced with that plastic fiber.”

Jon grinned. “Whoever stocked this vessel thought ahead to cope with unknown and undoubtedly rough terrain.”

What the Sh’im considered essential to take back with them was more than could be accommodated in the Fiver. There were plaintive ululations from the Sh’im as they pared down the stack of treasures to fit the available space. That was when one of the dark-coats was pinned down under one of the crates, ooooling piteously. Instantly, Sh’im and humans went to its aid, but it was obvious from the way its foot hung, it had been hurt.

“I can’t do anything with it there, you know,” Doc said tersely.

Ay and Bee came forward and purposefully led the way for the dark-coat to Doc’s facility, patting the injured Sh’im and volubly reassuring the others who crowded about anxiously.

They got Illi, for that was what Tim understood its name to be, safely on the couch. Though it was wide-eyed with apprehension, a whiff of some gas near its face had it reposing in happy comfort while Doc made his examination.

“More of a bad bruise, with some ligaments torn,” Doc said. Tim did one of his mimed explanations, which was passed back through the ship to those waiting for a response. “Its joints are bulging with mineral deposits, and it’s got the worst case of accretions I’ve seen so far. But then it’s older. I’ll just remove them while I regen and nu-skin the graze. He’ll return in far better shape than he came.”

That was when Tim suggested they accommodate the passengers in the sleeping cabins, a move that opened up more space in the main room. They also used the gymnasium space on the lower deck.

“Helm, are we overloading?” Jon asked as he settled in the pilot’s seat for the return voyage.

“No, Commander. The Fiver is capable of lifting considerable tonnage without stressing the engines,” Helm said.

Jon, his eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter, grinned at Nimisha, seated in the next chair over. She grinned back rather smugly.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing how she flies on IS drive,” he said.

His words were delivered in a level, thoughtful tone, but she got a hint of his eagerness to put the Fiver to that test.

“How many trips will we have to make, Captain, to provide the Sh’im with enough to keep them happy before we go?” she asked.

“Not how many trips, Lady Nimisha, but how few we can get away with,” he replied, some impatience coloring his voice.

They made six trips, to equip all four towns with repeller screens, enough wagons and the fuel to run them, and farming and domestic equipment. Only one pod of blankets and fabric was brought, since not much was needed with spring in the air. With many willing hands, Casper and Syrona had a fine two-bedroom prefab house in four days, with running water from their own well and a septic tank for waste products. They had a shower and a bath in a small but adequate bathroom. The Sh’im produced basic furniture items, like beds, chairs, chests, and tables that craftsfolk had made, working late into the night, in gratitude for the help the communities had received from the humans.

At Doc’s suggestion, another, longer trip was undertaken, to bring the
Poolbeg’s
diagnostic unit to the main Sh’im town.

“As I mentioned in my analysis of Ay and Bee, they had residual accretions of minerals in their systems. These are present in varying quantities in all those Sh’im I have treated for broken bones and cuts. I have automatically removed the accretions as a preventative treatment. We do not wish to upset our little allies, but I would like to use every opportunity possible to remove those accretions from all the Sh’im, especially the dark-coats, like Illi, who was all but crippled by the deposits. Those are not at all beneficial.”

“D’you know how many thousands there are of them?” Nimisha asked.

“Perhaps when they are completely confident of our goodwill toward them, a proper program can be initiated. In the meantime, I will remove the material whenever I can. I will program the
Poolbeg
unit to that effect.”

“You’re the doc,” Jon said.

“It’s a very good idea,” Syrona said, Casper nodding agreement.

While the
Poolbeg
’s diagnostic was not an AI unit, Doc updated its memory with information on the Sh’im anatomy and biology, as well as the physical profiles of the humans, especially Syrona. He programmed in automatic checkups for Tim, who was showing substantial physical improvement from the nutritional program Doc had initiated. Additional supplies and a maintenance check had the unit in perfect working condition. Syrona was reassured by its availability, more for Tim’s sake than her own.

Then Syrona came up with an excellent notion. She was, after all, a communications expert. So a satellite pulse beam was constructed, to be put into position by the Fiver when it reached the proper orbit for the satellite, on its exploratory trip to the other M-planets. That way, the Fiver could keep in contact with Erehwon. They found sufficient units to make a powerful enough comsat, with solar panel wings to keep it operating for several generations, if necessary. Nimisha was impressed with Syrona’s professional abilities, seeing her in a new light. Syrona was also improving in health and vitality from the better nutrition she was receiving.

“If you’ve no objection, Syrona,” Nimisha said when they were reviewing the comsat’s design, “I’ve some bits and pieces of newer communications technology that I made Fleet give me.” She grinned, tacitly admitting that she had acquired the “bits and pieces” by devious means.

When Syrona saw the specifications for the new solar panel wings, she couldn’t wait to install the upgrades to her design. Nimisha realized then just how much of the equipment in the cave had probably been designed by Syrona, though the two men had done the construction.

Once Nimisha and Jon were certain that Casper, Syrona, and Tim would be housed and safe—their home had its own solar-powered repeller screen—they decided they could leave. The Sh’im were sociable by temperament and used any occasion for celebration: The housewarming, even if the Sh’im didn’t know the custom, was an excellent excuse for a party.

“They could be at this for days,” Jon said quietly to Nimisha as they watched the Sh’im doing a very energetic and athletic form of dance that even Tim could not imitate, though he was willing to try.

“I don’t know about you, but I avoid leave-takings whenever possible,” Nimisha commented.

“Good thing Syrona and Casper have moved their things out of the Fiver, then, isn’t it?” he asked, making eye contact with her.

“Indeed.” She rose. They happened to be sitting well beyond the bonfire that was warming the chill spring night air for the spectators.

He got to his feet and, putting a hand under her elbow, guided her away.

“I did warn Casper we might just leave now they’re settled,” he said after they were well away.

“I’ll hope we can return before Syrona delivers. I promised her I’d be there for her,” Nimisha said.

“If that ship of yours is as fast on IS drive as you say, we will.” Jon’s voice rippled with amused challenge.

“Oh, she can move,” Nimisha assured him.

And the Fiver did, with Helm managing one of the quiet vertical lifts that he was so good at. He achieved a higher altitude than was generally required before he cut in the main engines and kept them on minimal power until they were out of range of the acute Sh’im hearing. Then, at Nimisha’s command, the nose of the Fiver tilted up, toward the unnamed stars, pierced the atmospheric envelope, and increased speed to a safe system maximum.

Nimisha felt elation grip her as the Fiver was once more in space and doing what she had been designed to do. She was about to admit that in the Fiver she had reached the perfection she had been seeking so long.

Then Helm announced they had achieved the altitude for the release of the comsat.

“Let it go, Helm,” Jon said.

To herself, Nimisha added, “And let it receive news of home.”

Jon touched her arm. “Let’s get some rest, shall we?”

“Helm, you have the conn,” Nimisha ordered.

“Yes, ma’am,” Helm replied.

Jon and Nimisha walked across the main cabin, but when she opened the door to her compartment, he once again touched her arm.

“If I’m not rushing matters . . .” he began, cocking his head a little in tacit appeal, a shy, or rather nervous, smile tilting his mouth up on one side.

Since Nimisha had experienced a sudden rush of sensuality at his first touch, this second physical contact only emphasized what she had been denying: that she was very much attracted to him.

“No, I don’t think you are,” she agreed and took his hand. “We could shower together and save time,” she added.

His chuckle was deep and charged with eagerness. As she shed her one-piece coverall, he turned on the water and, with remarkable speed, was also naked by the time she stepped into the stall. The touch of his skin on hers was quite the most wonderful sensation, and matters progressed with great pleasure from then on.

In fact, Nimisha reflected when she heard the gentle chime from Helm and awoke to find herself curled against Jon’s long body, he was quite possibly the best lover she had ever had. Of course, the prolonged celibacy that both had endured produced an intense hunger that had done much to increase their ultimate mutual satisfaction. Several times. She decided that morning to have Doc remove her implant. Tim should learn how to deal with human children and, if she chose to have a male this time, he could be a mate for the girl child that Syrona was carrying. With a proper medical unit to monitor pregnancies, she was not averse to increasing the human population.

“Jon . . .” She caressed his shoulder, running her hand down to his chest to the strong pectoral muscles, then tweaked him. Hushed awakenings were one of the minor pleasures of having a good lover. Indeed, as the Fiver sped toward the heliopause, they left the cabin, and the bed, only to eat, bathe, and do cursory checks of their progress.

“I heard Helm,” he murmured and slowly turned toward her, capturing her hand and kissing the palm. “I just didn’t want to move.”

“How long to heliopause, Helm?” Nimisha asked.

“Thirty-five minutes, ma’am.”

“That’s time enough to spare,” Jon said, and rolled over onto her.

Dressed and ready for the translation into IS drive, Jon grinned as he gestured for Nimisha to take the pilot’s chair. She grinned back and took it. She’d have been quite willing for him to do the honors but liked it in him that he gave her preference.

The actual translation was accomplished effortlessly, with Helm increasing Interstellar Drive toward the nearest system with an M-type planet.

“The journey to the programmed destination will take four days, seven hours, and twenty minutes to reach the heliopause, ma’am,” Helm announced. “All systems are functioning at recommended levels.”

“Thank you, Helm. You have the conn,” she said, rising. “I don’t know about you, Jon, but I’m starving.”

“Burgers?” Jon asked, his expression merry.

“No,” she said firmly as he stepped aside for her to precede him to the main chamber. “Cater, I’d like a proper big breakfast, please.”

“Double that, Cater,” Jon said, following her and placing an arm about her waist the moment they had cleared the partition. “I’m rather tactile, Nimisha. Do you mind?”

She shook her head, grinning up at him, and looping her arm around his waist.

They ate, dawdling over the meal and talking about nothing in particular, until Jon, taking a deep breath, asked a question that Nimisha knew had been on his mind for some time.

“Could I possibly see the specs for the Fiver, Nimisha? I’d understand,” he added hastily, raising one hand, “if you were reluct—”

“Helm, bring up my special design disks on the cabin screen,” she said, leaning back, pleased by his interest in her work.

“Thanks, Nimisha.” His eyes were warm with love as he gave her hand a special squeeze. She returned the pressure.