Turning Point (15 page)

“Kusac was too badly wounded to keep up with us, so the Captain ordered him to follow our trail as best he could, when he could.”

Carrie kept her expression impassive as Vanna ground to a halt.

“I wasn't even allowed the time to put a dressing on his wound,” the Sholan continued after a moment or two. “We had to ensure that we escaped to warn our people. Millions of lives still depend on our sending that message.”

“I can appreciate your point,” said Carrie, “but I'm afraid I would have at least treated his wound.”

“None of us had time to think!” exclaimed Vanna. “We had just crashed on the planet, gotten out of the scouter, and been attacked again on the ground. We reacted purely by instinct, otherwise we'd all have perished in the Valtegans' second attack.”

Carrie shrugged noncommittally, knowing that Vanna was upset—and probably right. “Possibly I would have acted the same way, I don't really know.”

Vanna nodded. “Perhaps you would. Now will you tell me how you met Kusac, and came to speak our language so well—for an Alien.”

Carrie told Vanna an abridged version of her meeting with Kusac, leaving out anything that had to do with their telepathic bond, except for the language transfer. By the time she had finished, Kusac had returned.

“Everything should be fine now,” he told her, sitting down at the table. “I have told him about our computer cube and spoken to him about sending the message direct to your colony ship and he says he will consider it, although he sees no reason to refuse.”

“Good. Have they found the life pod yet?” Carrie asked.

“No, but they know where it is,” Kusac replied. “It's in the swamp just north of here.”

“Oh, dear,” sighed Carrie. “That creates a problem.”

“I know.”

“We've been trying to find a way through that swamp for months,” interrupted Vanna, “but the place is full of treacherous bogs and quicksands, not to mention the local animal population, which appears to be composed mainly of teeth,” she said wryly. “I seem to have done nothing but treat animal bites.”

“I don't know the swamps,” said Carrie. “The person you want is Jack Reynolds, our doctor and xenobiologist, though even he hasn't ventured far into that region. I'm afraid no one in our settlement can be of any real help.”

“Then we are stranded until the
Khalossa
finally realizes we're missing. With the current situation, that's not going to be for quite a while yet as we were running behind schedule—unless you know the location of a deep space transmitter.”

“If we knew of one that didn't require a large army to reach it, I assure you we'd have used it ourselves long before now! Vanna, we have a colony ship due to reach midpoint in about two weeks. If we don't contact it, another fifteen hundred of our people will be landing here, totally unprepared for life under the Valtegans,” Carrie replied.

“It occurred to both Garras and me that if the
Khalossa
is bound for Keiss, there is no need to stop your colony ship. By the time it arrived, Keiss would be completely free of any Valtegan presence.”

“That's an option I hadn't considered,” said Carrie thoughtfully.

“Yes, the
Khalossa's
a fully armed warship, well able to cope with fighting on a planetary scale,” Kusac continued. “It's well worth thinking about.

“Meanwhile, there must be someone who knows the swamps. What about these guerrillas of yours? They live in the forests, they must have traveled through that area at some time.”

“They're certainly more likely to have done so than anyone else,” Carrie admitted.

“How do we contact them?” interrupted a voice from behind Carrie.

She turned to find the Captain standing there. He moved round the table, seating himself opposite them.

“I've no idea. How do you suggest we find small bands of people who roam around a forest the size of this one?”

“How do you contact them when you need them?” he asked, his ears twitching in irritation.

“We don't,” she replied shortly. “They contact us.”

“Carrie,” said Kusac, his hand reaching out to cover hers where it lay on the table. “They need provisions—food, weapons, things like that. Where would they go to get them?”

“They would probably go to Seaport,” she said, moderating her tone while mentally sending Kusac a series of rude noises. “People from all over go there to market the various goods that are their speciality. Hillfort mines for metals. They produce tools and jewelery. Seaport itself produces seafoods. It's also the site of our original landing, and sections of the
Eureka
are still there, incorporated into the town. The computer is housed there, also the beacon to guide the second ship down.”

“The Valtegans have allowed you to keep the beacon then?”

“In a way. We aren't allowed access to it in case we might try to prevent it from sending out the homing signal.”

“I'd have thought that the Valtegans would have tried to keep any more of your people from landing here,” said Kusac, “considering the damage your guerrillas already do. Surely they are creating a potentially explosive situation for themselves?”

“They know that our second wave contains many scientists as well as their equipment. Plus they hope to recruit more of our women for their pleasure centers.” Her voice sounded bitter as she said this.

“Some of your women are in their pleasure centers?” said the Captain, his face creasing with concern. “Is there no way you can rescue them? Surely your guerrillas? ...”

“They went voluntarily,” Carrie interrupted. “When the Valtegans arrived, they took over the site of one of our settlements. There was opposition, of course, and many of the men were killed. Most of the survivors left and joined other settlements but some remained, going to stay in Geshader with the Valtegans.

“The women used to visit Seaport occasionally, but when they started trying to persuade some of the younger girls to join them in the center, the settlers drove them out.

“We aren't all like that,” she said defensively, “but no matter how carefully you screen people, you can't test for every situation.”

“What are the chances of contacting the guerrillas if we go to Seaport?” asked Kusac, breaking the silence that followed her outburst.

“I've no idea, but we can hardly traipse round the forest hoping to bump into them. There's only one problem with your idea. I'd be recognized in Seaport, and my father will be looking for me.”

“That is unimportant for now,” said the Captain. “Do you know the places these people are likely to frequent?”

“I know where to look,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Then you can prepare for your journey tonight and be ready to leave first thing in the morning.”

“No,” said Kusac quietly.

The Captain swiveled round to face him.

“I said no,” Kusac repeated, ignoring the fact that Guynor's ears had flicked sideward and back.

“Carrie has been injured by your First Officer. She needs at least a day or two to recover. Traveling through the forest is not child's play, it's hard manual work. Once her wrist has healed, we will leave.

“There is also the question of her being recognized. That problem has to be resolved before it is safe for her to enter Seaport.”

Vanna sat rigid with shock, unable to believe what she was hearing. This was so unlike the Kusac she knew.

“Kusac, I'm fine. I'll be all right . . .” started Carrie.

“If we have to hack our way back through the trees, then there is no way you could possibly cope,” Kusac said flatly. “Vanna, as the medic, do you agree with me?”

Vanna kept her eyes on the Captain as she answered.

“She is not a Sholan so I have no way of gauging her recuperative powers, but even if she were, I would advise at least one day's rest if she has to use her hand for any heavy work. The journey to Seaport will take much longer—and may even have to be canceled—if she collapses from shock or exhaustion.”

“Very well,” snapped Garras. “If you consider that it would jeopardize the mission, then I will delay it for a day or two. Time is of the essence. The Valtegans will be trying to use our memory cube and if they can access that ... I leave it to your imagination.

“Let me know when she has recovered sufficiently to travel.” With that, he stalked off to the other end of the cavern and disappeared through one of the tunnel openings.

Vanna released her breath in a long sigh.

“What, in all the shades of the Underworld, has come over you, Kusac? Are you going out of your way to antagonize everyone?”

“Me, Vanna? You know I'm a pacifist.”

“Don't turn those innocent eyes on me!” she rejoined tartly. “I don't know what you're playing at, but I hope you're prepared for the trouble you're creating for yourself and Carrie.”

“Believe me, Vanna, I'm not trying to cause trouble, but I'm not having anyone trampling over Carrie. She isn't one of us and no one has any right to order her about. Our ways are not hers. I want everyone to understand that they don't Challenge her but me.”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Carrie protested. “I'm not exactly a weakling, you know.”

Kusac and Vanna turned to look at her, a shared amusement on their faces.

“I have heard you described by other Terrans as a diminutive slip of a girl,” said Kusac, grinning. “You're just tall enough to reach above my shoulder. Do you really think you could defend yourself against one of us? Even against Vanna, who is the smallest of our crew?” He shook his head.. “You don't have our muscular build, let alone our claws, and in a Challenge, claws are not sheathed.”

Carrie mumbled a few choice words under her breath.

Kusac laughed before turning back to Vanna.

“When we left the scouter, we all grabbed the nearest things worth salvaging. I don't suppose there was any clothing among what was carried off, was there?”

“As a matter of fact, there was. If you remember, Mito was in ... her cabin.” She hesitated, trying not to glance at Kusac. “Predictably, she grabbed some clothing and personal possessions, bundling them in a couple of blankets. Not the type of things that aid survival on an Alien planet—except for the blankets.”

“On the contrary, it is exactly what I need. Where did she put them?”

“I don't know. You'll have to ask Mito. I expect in the sleeping quarters she shares with Guynor.”

“Then I'd better go and ask her to show me what she brought,” he said, looking around for Mito. “I have an idea that might prevent Carrie from being recognized.

“Will you wait here till I return? As you said, I don't want to leave Carrie on her own.” Saying this, he got to his feet and made his way across the cavern to where Mito sat beside the cooking area.

After a brief conversation, she reluctantly led him out of the main cavern and down another smaller tunnel.

He was back in five minutes, carrying an armload of various materials which he deposited on the table. As he did so, Carrie noticed he was wearing one of the jackets with a purple band over the shoulder. He also had the utility belt, but there was no weapon hanging at his side.

“We have to make her look like a male Terran, Vanna. You can help me.”

“A male! What for?”

“Her father is one of the leaders of the Underground and he will have all their people watching for a female answering her description. They will not be looking for a male.”

“But her color,” objected Vanna. “How can we change her color? And how will Mito's robes help?”

“Unlike us, the Terrans are all the same color. It is their shape that is different,” he explained, casting a cautious look in Carrie's direction.

“Her shape?” echoed Vanna, her professional interest aroused. “In what way?” She looked from Kusac to Carrie and back again.

“Ask Carrie sometime,” he said evasively, his tail beginning to flick with embarrassment.

“It seems I won't need much disguising,” Carrie replied dryly.

“You won't, but not for the reasons you think. Remember, I've lived with you for several weeks. If we can make you a loose tunic and a cloak of some kind to conceal your face, with your hair bound back out of sight you should be unrecognizable.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Carrie, “but I can only guarantee to lead you to Seaport. From then on we'll need all the good luck we can muster.”

“In that case, we can start now. I have the necessary sewing things in my medical kit,” said Vanna.

“The rest are organizing a hunting party. Why don't you go with them, Kusac? Guynor will be going, so Carrie will be safe with me.”

Kusac hesitated.

Go with them, Kusac. They are your people, you have to take your place among them again,
Carrie advised mentally.

“Very well,” he replied. “I'll see if I can catch something more interesting than those rabbits we've been living on for the last couple of days.”

The next few hours passed quietly for Carrie. While the two women sorted through the tabard style robes that Mito had donated, they chatted, each curious about the other's culture.

“What's your home world like?” asked Carrie.

“It's just home,” Vanna said.

“Yes, but what makes it home? Why did you leave it for space?”