Rissa and Tregare (24 page)

At dinner his appetite surprised her; she had expected him to be more eyes than stomach. He took two helpings, and finaly said,

"That feels more like it. Now-you suppose you could change the dressings again? And after we've digested dinner a little, help me take a bath? That pot wasn't the only thing that's stinking."

For the most part, the bandages came away cleanly; only at a few spots did they stick and tear the crusts forming over the burns. Tregare raised his arm and sniffed at it. "Looks like the last lost hope of peace, doesn't it? But it's not as sore now, and smels of clean healing.'

With a soft cloth she patted away cakings of old salve; with a damp one she sponged clean the skin around the wounds. "We will leave you unbandaged until after your bath, so as not to wet the dressings."

"Sure. Won't hurt to let a litle air at the burns, either, long as I'm awake and can keep them from rubbing anything." They sat for a time. Then she helped him up and into the bathtub, filing it only to a level that did not reach the lowest burn. He sat with the injured arm resting on the side of the tub, leaning to keep the burned side higher than the other.

"I can't do much of it," he said. "Just pretend I'm a baby." She laughed and set to work. To wash his head she leaned him forward-and to the left, away from the burns. For the rest she worked gently but quickly, careful not to tickle after one such accidental transgression caused him to start, and make an alarming splash. "I'll remember that," he said. "Tregare never forgets a tickle!"

Rising, he needed less help, and stood while she dried him. He sat again as she spread salve thickly on fresh dressings and applied them. Then she brought him a robe.

"What's this for? I'm going back to bed now."

"Not until I change much of the bedding. You sweat so heavily, you have soaked it." So he waited while she stripped the bed and put on fresh covers, retaining only the top spread which was dry and odorless. Then she removed the robe and helped him into bed.

"I'll need to be by the wall," he said, "so if we bump, it's on my good side." "Yes, of course."

"And we can't-but maybe tomorrow, Rissa." "When you are healed enough, Bran-not before."

"We'll see, then." He raised his face to her kiss; she turned the lights off and got in beside him. Her thoughts were busy; some time passed before she slept;

in the morning Tregare's fever had gone; during the night he had not sweated noticeably. From the waist down, he dressed in his normal clothing-and without help, except that he could not straighten the bandaged arm enough to manage his boot snaps. He added a light, loose jacket that did not bind on the burned areas. He ate with evident enjoyment. Rissa waited until after-breakfast coffee to report her dealings with Ami Gustafson and her ideas about moving the equipment. "And so, Bran, if you think-"

He waved his good hand. "Wait now-you want to fly the scout-just like that, without being checked out in her?" He tapped a finger on the table. "First place, the scout's been a hole card-nobody outside Base Two, except Hulzeins, knows it exists. But maybe that's not important now-let me think about it."

Rissa thought a moment, then nodded. "I have not given it away, Bran."

"Good. But
if
we use it, I'll have to fly it."

"But why?" She repeated the arguments she'd given Deverel.

Tregare paused, then said, "You're good with an aircar. But, you ever fly a racer?" She shook her head. "They do everything twice as fast and twice as hard.
You
might climb in-to one cold and learn it before it kiled you-the average aircar pilot wouldn't. And the scout-it's kitier, compared to racing aircars, than they are to the ones you're used to." He shook his head. "You're capable, peace knows-but al at once, it's too much to try."

Chin resting on clasped hands, Rissa leaned forward. "Then a step at a time, Tregare. You think I could not lift it safely?"

"Sure you could-just apply power until it raises, and more if it starts to wobble."

"And then, going high for safety, would there not be leeway to experiment and learn the scout's responses?"

"Yes, but-"

"The landing, you wil say-that I must get it right the first time. But that is not true. I can practice against the altimeter -high enough to come to momentary stop in midair, with plenty of height in which to drop and regain thrust." Brows lowered, he looked at her. "Peace on a planet-of course you could!"

"Then I have your permission?"

He laughed. "Not so fast! It's a good idea-a
damned good
one-and sooner or later we'l do it. But for now-taking the scout to One Point One-let's wait and see. Maybe I'll be healthy in time to do it myself."

She thought, then nodded. "Very well, Bran-I agree to that."

Later, Tregare walking slowly and carefully, they went to the scout. Once he turned to her and said, "I'm just taking it easy, not to jar anything. I could move fast if I had to." She smiled then, and they climbed the ramp. Inside, Deverel was clearing the breakfast table, limping but no longer using the crutch. "Up and around-eh, Hain?"

"Right, skipper-the bruise was worse than the gouge. It's not too sore if I keep it loosened up. Anse changed the ban-dage-I'm healing cleanly. But how's yourself? We've wor-ried."

"Coming fine, now. Thing was-at first there-when by rights I should have rested, I had to act fast. So yesterday I paid for it-shock and fever. Taking it easy now, but on the mend."

At the comm-panel, he punched a conference call on scram-ble. Soon Limmer, Vanois, and Gowdy-each on a screen seg-ment-faced him. He said, "Casualty reports first-right? Up here it's just Hain and I, and we're both mending." Limmer said, "Here, add five dead-we found two more, and three wounded didn't make it." He gave the total figures, by ships. "There's less than half a dozen in sick bay-energy guns mostly kill you or they don't."

"Walking wounded?"

Limmer shook his head. "I don't even have a count on that. People on the job, they stop by for treatment; the medics haven't bothered keeping records."

Tregare laughed. "If it doesn't worry them, it doesn't worry me." Then he sobered. "But it's hell-we had to lose so many." He shook his head. "No choice, though, that I can see.

"Well, then-with all the cleaning up to do, I expect the

regular work's been stalled. But are you ready to start again

now?"

"Pretty much so," said Limmer. "Except-I wish there was some way to move
Deuces Wild.
When
Inconnu
gets hereand others-the hulk will be in the way, slow things down. And the blowup put it on a tilt. Anyone landing or taking off, you see-the blast could knock it over, maybe wreck another ship."

Squinting, Tregare frowned. "Which way's it leaning, and how much?" Limmer told him; after a moment, Tregare nodded. "I think I see it, but check me. If you put the winch-tractor over by the crater wall-azimuth one-fifty, say-dug in so it can't move-"

"You talks foolish, Tregare! Tractor won'ts move it a ship-can'ts even to pull it over." Tregare grinned. "Hear the rest, Raoul, will you? Now-run the cable to
Deuces Wild.
Take at least a half turn around the ship-a full one, if possible-before you attach it, high as you can manage. There's extra cable in supplies, if you need it."

"I still says-"

Limmer's voice growled. "Like Tregare said, let's hear
all
of it."

"All right-guess me the azimuth of the westernmost land-ing leg."

Vanois answered. "Close to two hundreds ten, it is."

"Perfect!" Tregare gestured. "Run your winch tension up until the safety clutch smokes; then blow that leg out with thermite and hit the override! You see?"

"I sees! Ship starts to fall, you puts a
twist
on it."

"Yes," said Limmer. "If it lands rolling, even a little, there's barely enough slope that maybe the winch can
keep
it rolling."

Tregare nodded. "Just be sure you blow the cable free before
Deuces Wild
starts to wrap up in it-or that tractor comes out like a cork, out of
any
hole we could dig."

Limmer chuckled. "And slack tension first. Sure, Tregare. And we'll salvage what's worth it, starting now,
before
it gets jarred up."

"Fine. Now, then-after that, assuming it works, you can start cutting
No Return
for the extra turrets; it's all marked. And whenever the mountings are in place and inspected, the hardware can go in. We'll be down to help on that." He continued. There were questions, and he answered them. Then; "Hilaire-if you haven't told those other six of Peralta's that their lives are safe, do it. And tell the whole fif-teen they won't be locked up much longer-that I'll decide who can rejoin the ship, that wants to, and the rest go free in the city."

He turned to Rissa. "Can you think of anything else for now?"

She leaned over to face the screen. "Only-my greetings, also."

"That's it, then. I'll be down there as soon as I'm feeling friskier-which shouldn't be too long from now." But when the screen darkened and he rose to leave, she saw that he moved more slowly than before. "It is time you rested again, Bran. Do not try to do too much, yet."

"All right. See you later, Hain." Several times, on the way to the cabin, she wanted to help him, but she knew better than to try.

tregare's impatience grew, but not until the fourth morning, after the evening when they first again made love, did Rissa agree he was fit for real work. Scabs were beginning to flake off the lesser burns; only a few deeper ones stil needed cover-ing. He flexed the arm, wincing slightly but not able to extend it fuly.

With the two men from the scout, they attacked the prob-lem of Peralta's stolen projector. Kenekke had cleared debris away; all four could get handholds on the surface-burned shell. With Tregare favoring his arm and Deverel his stiff leg, they rolled it onto an improvised skid and hauled it to the scout. There they rigged a winch to pul it up the ramp, swing and place it, half-protruding, in a supply hold emptied for the purpose. Deverel wound a length of cable around the nozzle to tie it down. Tregare said, "Time for a breather. You got any coffee?"

"Fresh is better," said Kenekke. "Only take a minute or two." As he prepared it, the others sat. When the coffee was poured, Rissa said, "What is next, Bran? Do we go soon to Base Two? Or across the Hils for Ms. Gustafson's apparatus?"

"Both-in that order. But not until tomorrow."

"Good. If I inform her today, she wil have time to prepare. But today, what do we do?"

"I thought we could clear away a litle more slag and see if the aircar might be worth fixing. Then-let's al take the rest of the day off. Though peace knows
I've
been loafing enough!"

after a half hour's work, Tregare looked at the gutted aircar and shook his head. "At One Point One or the Lodge, even, I'd say we fix it. But here-no way to move it that wouldn't cost more than it's worth-wel, when somebody has time we can salvage motors and landing gear, maybe a little more. Meanwhile-Anse, you want to spray it for mothbaliing?"

"I'll do that." They separated-Kenekke to a warehouse, Deverel to the scout, Rissa and Tregare to the cabin. Inside, he took off his boots and lay down.

"No getting around it," he said. "I'm still not up to much."

"Are you sure you wish to do what you said, tomorrow?"

"Have a start, anyway. I won't take the scout up unless I'm certain of myself. If I start to poop out-at Base Two, say, or in town-that's where we stay. Al right?"

"Very wel. I wil tel Ami Gustafson that we may be there tomorrow, or perhaps not until the next day. Then I wil come back and we can have lunch."

Aboard the scout she made her cal. Ami Gustafson agreed to have the equipment ready for moving the next day, and to arrange for a vehicle and loading crew either then or the day after, as needed. "At the port, then?" she said.

"Yes, I believe that is best,'' said Rissa. ''And thank you.''

She returned to find Tregare cooking lunch. They ate with-out talk. Afterward he said, "Not much company, am I? I need to rest a bit more; then I have to go through some schedules. So feel free to go walking, take the aircar out-whatever you want."

"Yes. I wil walk-the car gives me no exercise." She kissed him and left. But once outside she ran, not walked, the length of the plateau and back. Then she began climbing the uphil trail-an animal track, barely discernible. She lost al sense of time. When she saw the sun near the horizon ahead, she had almost reached the top of the great ridge. Regretfully, she decided the remaining daylight was not enough for her to top the crest and return safely. She turned and stood a few moments, savoring the fal of hillside, the plateau tiny below her, the next ridge and the sweep of plain beyond-then she ran downhil.

Pell-mell, she ran-too fast for caution, leaping boulders and ditches-until dimming light forced her to slow her pace. The rest of her descent was anticlimax, but she had exerted her body's strength more than in a long time, and the effort re-laxed and calmed her. She found Tregare asleep in the cabin; she showered and changed clothes before waking him.

During dinner she confirmed her guess that the scout should land at the port rather than in the city. "Oh, it'd be safe enough," Tregare said, "to set her down in Gustafson's side lot. But there's rules, so no point in shaking anything when it's not needful."

"And can I begin learning to handle the scout?"

"Not between here and Two-it's a short, low haul, and the projector makes an unbalanced load. But crossing the Big Hills I'll take her high, and you can try your hand. Whether we go there tomorrow, or next day."

"I look forward to that learning."

"I'll bet you do."

when the scout lifted next morning, Rissa saw the effect the projector made; Tregare kept the smal ship tilted at an angle, to compensate. All four were aboard; he had left the cabin locked, its alarms set, but unguarded. Remembering the previous flights, she watched him closely; now his control was deft and sure, and he landed alongside
Lefthand Thread
almost gently. His scheme, she saw, had worked. Near the southeast crater wall, clear of the other ships, lay
Deuces Wild.
Limmer had a crane ready. With much signaling and a few clangs, the heavy projector swung against the rim of the cargo hold, the entrance, and then the ramp. But no damage was done; as the load swung free and was grounded, Tregare waved the operator a salute of congratulation.