Crisis On Doona (28 page)

“No, it doesn’t,” Kelly said, and then started to giggle, covering her mouth with her hand and shooting an anxious look at DeVeer. “Klonski was so indignant to be taken for a rustler!”

“I have discovered, Miss Green, that there is a certain form of honor among thieves.”

“Well, then, honest men ought not to be discredited, should they?”

DeVeer regarded her kindly after that vehement declaration. “No, they should not. I shall consider it my prime obligation and most urgent priority to assist you in clearing the good reputations of those two young persons.
But,”
and he held up his hand warningly when Kelly exclaimed her joy aloud, “to prove that Klonski did, in fact, use his skill on the tapes in question and on the Doonan security satellites is going to take time.”

“We don’t have time,” Kelly said in a despairing wail. “The Councillors will bring Todd and Hrriss to trial any day now. And then there’s the Treaty negotiations ... The charges against Todd and Hrriss were planned to coincide with this critical period. My home is at stake, Inspector DeVeer.”

“So you are a Doonan colonial?”

Kelly sighed for her indiscretion.

Not unkindly, he smiled. “Doona must fall or stand on its own merits, but clearly the odds against it have been staked by what does appear to be a genuine conspiracy. Personally I have had doubts about the Experiment, but I was old enough to experience the repercussions of the Siwanna Tragedy, so perhaps I’m not entirely without prejudice. But I try to overcome what I know to have been early conditioning. I think it’s a mistake to mix two such advanced races.”

“But that’s the best kind to mix,” Kelly exclaimed. “Equal intelligence and parallel societies with similar aims and mutual respect.”

“But Hrrubans are much more powerful than we smaller Humans. And their technology more advanced.”

“Not in the same direction ours is. So we’ve learned from each other ...”

“They have not granted us that transportation system of theirs ...”

“And we have not given them the right to build our more sophisticated spaceship engines, so I think we’re even on the question of space travel.”

“You argue well, Miss Green.”

“I’ve specialized knowledge to back up my arguments, Mr. DeVeer.”

“I trust that events will conspire to let us continue. I have never met a more devoted adherent of the Experiment. But, in my estimation, the appalling Siwanna Tragedy has not been diminished by the short period of Doona’s success.” He brought himself up short. “You remind me of my daughter. She argues for her causes with all her heart, too. And you’ve risked much to lay your case before me.” He rose to his feet, signalling an end to their discussion.

“I’d risk a lot more!” Kelly got to her feet and shrugged out of Poldep black. “Can you let me know how your investigations progress? Or do you no longer consider me your special deputy?”

“That deputization will be in force for the remainder of your stay on Earth, but I’d prefer that you didn’t wander into a situation where I have to notice you officially. I’ll be in touch with the communications number that made your appointment with me. And by the way,” he said, “next time, please obtain permission to visit Earth. If you have a legitimate reason, or an invitation, there isn’t any problem.”

Kelly smiled. “You are thorough.”

“I like to think that I am, Miss ... ah, Green.” He actually winked at her and she wondered if he had discovered her real identity but thought better about asking. “The amnesty policy is scrupulously maintained.”

“Can that cover my ‘sources of information,’ too?”

DeVeer frowned slightly, then his face cleared. “You did mention that there’s someone about to whistle-blow, didn’t you? We’ll see that your friends are protected if at all possible. I expect there’ll be a great deal of housecleaning before this matter is concluded. An official privacy seal is not meant to conceal capital crimes such as grand larceny and security tampering.” DeVeer took her hand. “I am grateful to you for your information. Poldep does need the help of all honest citizens, otherwise where would we be? Thank you, Miss Green.”

Kelly grinned at him, positive that he did know who she really was. “Thank you, sir.”

She spent the night curled up on Dalkey’s hard mattress, dreaming of snaking tapes with matched ends that then split apart to reattach themselves to other loose ends, and satellite spheres with the face of Askell Klonski, and each wart on his face another capped sensor.

* * *

The medical supply warehouse was in a section of Corridor and Aisle that Kelly had never visited before. She had to descend on a packed elevator through several levels, through the newer, smaller residences of Labor workers, and then pattered off the elevator into the manufacturing zone. Her fellow passengers, mostly maintenance workers for the Air Recycling Service, marched past her in a single mass, almost as if they were stuck together from being squeezed in the elevator.

The noise control standards had evidently been waived for this level, and so had the air purification ordinances. Hooting and wailing from machinery battled with the deafening thrum of turbines and the cumulative babble of Human voices. This Corridor was full of unrelieved gray and black buildings. They looked clean enough—no graffiti, no layers of dirt or filth—but they left her with the feeling that if she touched anything her fingers would come away filmed with soot.

Kelly found the address Nrrna had written down for her and slipped past the great open doors. Inside was the largest single room she had yet seen on Earth. The raftered ceiling loomed the full height of the level. Hundreds of men and women in drab bodysuits and heavy gloves passed her in pursuit of their various tasks. Pallet loaders, large, small, and staggeringly huge, rolled around the floor, picking up crates and packages from teetering stacks of merchandise. The scale of the warehouse amazed her. The entire Doona Launch Center could fit in the middle of this vast facility, and leave room for its normal day’s operation on every side, and this facility only forwarded medical supplies to outer worlds.

Stinking of hot oil, the forklifts trundled great bales of goods into giant freight elevators, for conveyance to the lower levels for distribution, or to the surface, where they could be loaded into spaceships. Neither of these two destinations was appropriate for Kelly. She needed to find where a particular small delivery was being prepared. The Hrruban Center grid was only a few meters square.

She had fitted herself out with a clipboard and a small parcel, wrapped under Dalkey’s instruction and sealed with a Spacedep logo they had cut out from a discarded film copy. The box was filled with food from his synthesizer. After two unappetizing meals of the stuff at Dalkey’s flat, she hoped she wouldn’t have to eat it, but who knew how long it would be before she could be rescued from the container? Nrrna might have to wait for solitude to open the crate.

“Is this the shipment for Doona?” Kelly asked in a bored tone, consulting her clipboard. “I’ve got a parcel to add to it. Spacedep,” she added with a nice touch of apathy.

The man glanced up at her with equal disinterest. “Nope. Try dock sixteen.”

“Is this the shipment for Doona?” Kelly inquired at dock sixteen.

“It is.” The short woman directing the lowering of boxes from one side of the dock onto a pallet glanced back over her shoulder at the tall mousy-haired girl. “Why?”

Kelly’s heart gave a little jolt within her. “I, uh, have a package to go on it. Spacedep.”

“There’s nothing in my manifest from Spacedep for Doona,” the woman said, tapping the clipboard she held under her arm.

Kelly pretended disgust. “Well, it was handed over to me this morning to make sure it got aboard.”

The woman stopped and flipped open the clipboard. It was full of neat documents, all sealed at the bottom by the departments of authorization. “Codep; Healthdep; Healthdep, that’s not here yet; Alreldep; Healthdep ...” She turned each one over until she came to the last one. “No, nothing from Spacedep. You must have the wrong order.” The woman looked up, but her querist was gone. Shrugging, the woman turned back to her bales.

While the woman’s attention was focused on the documentation, Kelly had slipped away and squeezed between two large boxes. One of the crates heading for Doona was only half full. Nrrna had arranged for Healthdep on Earth to send just enough sterile gloves to fill half a standard case but too many to be crated in a smaller container. Nrrna and Kelly calculated that there should be enough room for her to fit. Kelly began to look at labels to find the Healthdep shipment. She found it by the logo—a cross and crescent in a circle—marked on a blue crate. She tapped out the security code on the small comp, wriggled into the crate, and pulled the lid down over her, hearing the whirr as the cover locked itself again. Now all she had to do was try to make herself comfortable, and she would be home in hours.

The muffled sounds around her crate got louder, so she had a bit of warning before the box rose into the air and swung wildly from side to side. One of the cranes was doing the transfer. Kelly had the terrifying sensation of flying through the air, followed by a bump that tossed packages of the flimsy gloves all around her. The plastic envelopes stuck to her clothes, hair, and face. She peeled them off, and cupped her hands over her face to keep from being suffocated by the flying packages. As soon as the case was fastened down on the pallet, the gloves settled. She burrowed her way into the packages until only her head and her shoulders were jammed against the side of the box, her feet propped against the lower end and her knees under her chin. Not the most comfortable of positions and she tried to make herself believe that claustrophobia was a small price to pay for the success of her illegal voyage.

The crate jerked again as it started to move sideways, bumping Kelly’s head. The whole pallet must be on its way to the Hrruban Center. She could hear the squeak of unoiled wheels as it was pushed onto the transportation grid which rattled under her buttocks. She had little room in which to relieve cramped muscles and half wished that she’d asked Inspector DeVeer to arrange legitimate transport for her back to Doona. But that would have required too many explanations and too much time by ordinary Human spaceship. However uncomfortable, at least this trip would be instantaneous.

Through the sides of the crate, she could hear the low rumble of Hrringa’s voice, asking for the cargo manifests. She hoped he didn’t have to search each package before sending it. No, she merely heard the telltale beeping of the bomb detector as it was swept over the bales, and then it trundled sideways again. Kelly hoped her bale wouldn’t be sent somewhere else in error. All she could do now was wait and try not to worry.

At least she didn’t see the transfer mist or feel nauseated by the dislocation amid her padding of glove packets.

NRRNA WAITED
at the transport station. She was trying to appear calm, but she could not control the nervous twitching of her tail tip, a giveaway to anyone watching her. She was no longer of an age where she could have held her tail between her hands to subdue its reaction to her mood.

The Hrruban male who was in charge of the transport grid had passed a few pleasantries with her, but he had to keep his attention on his job, and not on the very attractive female hovering nearby. The timetable on transmissions and receptions was very tight. Two sendings could not be received on the grid at the same time. If one overlapped another, he had to put it on hold until the first one was entirely received.

“The medical shipment is not due from Earth for another thirty minutes,” he said once again.

“I know that,” Nrrna said, dropping her jaw in an appealing smile to belie her nervousness. “It is very important that I take delivery as soon as possible. There’s quite a lot of fur flying over letting the supply of sterile gloves get so low.”

“Hmm,” grunted the technician, unimpressed. Everyone was always in a hurry. His tail began to twitch impatiently.

The Treaty Controller, clad in his magnificent red robes, appeared out of a corridor and addressed the technician, who stood to attention. Nrrna slipped into the shadows of the terminal to keep from being noticed. “Hasn’t the transmission from Hrruba arrived yet?” the Controller asked.

The operator made the proper bow to such an important Hrruban. “No, honored sir. It is scheduled to arrive in three dots. You do not have long to wait. I could have notified you if you had called me.”

“Hmm,” the Treaty Controller growled his dissatisfaction. His eyelids lowered halfway over glaring green. “I was informed that it would be here at half past the tenth hour.”

The grid operator courteously gestured to the display of quartz timers, synchronized with grid transporter terminals in the other spheres of Hrruban autonomy. “That time approaches rapidly, honored sir,” he said, his voice hoarse.

The Controller turned away from the nervous young Hrruban and noticed Nrrna. To distract the grid operator, she had put on some of her most attractive ornaments, and a spicy cologne which approximated the pheromones of mating. She had not counted on anyone else coming along, especially not the Treaty Controller. At once she assumed a position both humble and hardworking, hoping he would look away. To her horror, she saw his nostrils flare as he scented her.

“Rrrmmm,” he purred, moving toward her. “And who is this? What is your name, lovely one?”

Flustered, she murmured her name, and was gently asked to repeat it. “Nrrna.”

“Nrrna. A soft name for a soft pelt. I find you most attractive, Nrrna.” He rubbed his hand along the length of her arm. Offended by the familiarity of the contact, she moved her arm, trying not to give deliberate insult. After all, she was wearing a provocative scent.

“You honor me, sir, but I am already promised.”

“Surely no single male will be sufficient to relieve one as young and feminine as you, Nrrna,” the Controller said, pitching his voice intimately. “I would be the one honored if you would choose to favor me with your company.”

Nrrna looked to the grid operator for assistance, but he had folded his ears tight to his head in an effort not to overhear. Which was only discreet of him, Nrrna had to admit. Why had she chosen such an alluring scent? She really had left herself open to offers. The operator she could have teased, but it would be most unwise of her to lead on the Treaty Controller.

“Please, sir, I am promised as lifemate.” She hadn’t wanted to admit that yet. Particularly not to this old male. She edged away. He sidled closer to her, and she could feel the heat of his body against hers and the rising scent of his sensual response to her condition. “I am not yet at full cycle,” she added as coolly as she could. Indeed she was a few weeks away from her season and sexual activity would be distasteful. He had no right to be harassing her.

“Really?” and the Controller looked genuinely surprised. “I think perhaps you have misjudged your readiness, soft Nrrna,” the Controller suggested in a low voice. “My quarters are most comfortable.” He was a much older male, with persuasive ways that should overwhelm such a young and obviously inexperienced female.

She shifted away from him, revolted by his manner. Any decent male would have desisted, but this old stoker obviously didn’t recognize a genuine denial.

“The transmission from Earth,” the operator announced.

With the agility of her youth, Nrrna sprang toward the pallet in a graceful leap that took the Controller totally by surprise. With her own hands, she helped the operator roll the crate off the transport grid to make room for the next transmission.

However, the Controller, not to be done out of his prize, followed her. Ignoring him, she opened the top crate, which did not contain Kelly, and began to inventory the materials very slowly, checking each box several times as she marked it off on her list.

“One box of size 00 sutures, one box of size 0 sutures, four cases of plas-skin ...”

“You haven’t answered my question yet, Nrrna,” the Treaty Controller pressed.

She gave him a smile. “All thought of personal indulgence must give way to duty, honored sir.” She paused to give him the most courteous and coolest of bows. “You must forgive my diligence but it is my first position and I cannot discredit my Stripe with less than my closest attention. Everything must be inventoried before it can be transported to the village center.” She began her count over, glancing from the clipboard to the pallet with an anxious expression. “One box of size 00 sutures, one box of size 0 sutures ...”

“I thought you needed to get this to the medical center as quickly as you could,” complained the operator, wondering that the pretty female was silly enough to ignore a Controller.

“As soon as it is counted,” Nrrna said firmly. “Earth must be notified promptly if the count is short.” Once again, she began at the top of her list. Just as the Treaty Controller moved in to pursue her, the grid bell rang.

“Honored sir, the transmission from Hrruba!”

On the grid platform a cluster of small boxes appeared. The Treaty Controller bent over them and straightened up with an exclamation of self-satisfaction, one of the document cases clutched in his hands. “Yes, this will ensure the number of days is finite.” He glanced at Nrrna, who was still pantomiming a diligent inventory and walked over to her. “Silly stripe,” he said in a voice low enough to reach her ears only, “you would do better to accept my protection and virility so that I can provide well for you when you have to return to Hrruba. It is not too late to reconsider.”

“My Stripe has a long tradition of honoring its promises,” Nrrna said with a swift sideways glance toward him before returning to her inventory check. Halfway between checking off a film tape for educating small children about bacteria control and reaching for the next film in the stack, she heard an annoyed snort, and the Treaty Controller swept away, holding the small document box. She sighed with relief.

“My goods are all accounted for,” she told the grid operator. “Will you transport me and this shipment now to First Village?”

The gesture with which the irritated technician directed her onto the platform showed that he would be very glad indeed to get rid of her. For her sake, he had nearly had to annoy the Treaty Controller. No male, not even a Treaty Controller, should persist when a female has made her disinterest so plain. He would be glad to see the last of both of them and the end of a possible disgraceful incident.

The moment that the village coalesced around Nrrna, she shoved the crate off the grid and tapped the code to open it. Kelly exploded up in the midst of a snowstorm of plastic packets. They were plastered all over her like wet leaves.

“Oh, my poor neck,” she groaned. “This was such a good idea but neither of us counted on sweat and plastic suffocation. I hope I don’t offend your nose.”

“I am so glad you are all right,” Nrrna said, trying hard to keep her nostrils from flaring at the reek of the Hayuman. She couldn’t help her current odoriferousness and Nrrna helped Kelly out. “I would not have left you in it so long, but that wretched ol’ cat”—and Kelly blinked at such an epithet coming from the gentle and polite Nrrna—“of a Controller was revoltingly offensive!” Nrrna almost spat in outrage and Kelly could see every single hair of her stripe was standing up.

Nrrna began to pick the static-charged packets off Kelly’s hair and clothes. Each time she tried to put a pile down, they seemed to spring back to adhere to her fur. When Kelly tried to help, it only made matters worse. The packets merely transferred themselves from Nrrna to Kelly. Frustration gave way to laughter and then Nrrna thought of moistening her hands, and when that seemed to help, Kelly wet hers and they began to divest themselves of their unusual decorations.

“I heard him, the old tomcat,” Kelly said, grinning at Nrrna. “But he’s a persistent bugger, isn’t he? I thought males didn’t bother females without permission.”

“It’s partly my fault,” Nrrna said. “I used too much of a provocative scent.”

“Not to get his attention, I’ll warrant.”

Nrrna wrinkled her nose. “The operator was too well mannered to pursue me, but it kept him interested until white muzzle interfered.”

“All’s well that ends well. But remind me not to ride in a crate again,” Kelly said when the last of the gloves were stuffed back into their container, and the top was clamped down again. “I also caught that bit about you reconsidering him so he could provide for you when you had to return to Hrruba. What’s happened since I left here?”

“Nothing,” Nrrna said, but she was as worried about his phraseology as Kelly was. Possibly more than Kelly was, for she had lived on Rrala all her life and the quarters of her clan on Hrruba were very crowded.

“What was he waiting to collect? Did you see?”

“A document box. Well covered with Third Speaker seals, that much I did notice.”

“Neither the Treaty Controller nor Third Speaker is a supporter of the colony. Strikes me as odd that that Stripe should be in control with Treaty Renewal approaching. I wonder what kind of documents were in that box.”

“I don’t know how we’d find out, but I’d better complete this shipment without any more delay.” Nrrna spoke into a radio unit which was hooked to her belt, contacting the Health Center’s operator. “They will send a flitter for the shipment. Now, did you have any luck on Terra?”

“I sure did, Nrrna. We’ve got a Poldep inspector on our side, willing to look into certain oddities that came to light. I want to tell the Reeves, but I’ll meet you later at Hrriss’s so I only have to tell this twice, but tell him I got good news.” She was stretching and working her arms and legs to relieve the kinks. “I never could have found out so much without your help, Nrrna. You’ve been a star! See you soon.”

With a final wave, Kelly jogged off toward the Friendship Bridge on her way to collect Calypso and make her way to the Reeve Ranch.

* * *

Todd took one look at her and yelled, “What did you do to your hair?”

“My hair?” she shrieked back at him, hand to her head before she remembered the rinse. “I couldn’t go back to Earth in my own hair and expect to be unnoticed!”

“To
Earth?”
he roared, white-faced with shock. When he had finished bawling her out for the risks she had taken, she got just as angry right back at him for not letting her deliver her good news.

“In the first place, I was never in danger, Todd Reeve. In the second place, I got more information than I ever thought I’d get, and thirdly, we got Inspector DeVeer actively pursuing an investigation on our behalf.”

“Is that Kelly Solinari with you, Todd?” Pat called, and rushed into the room, her expression both anxious and relieved. “Young woman, where have you been? Your family’s been worried sick about you. And what have you done to your hair?”

“It washes out and I left my parents a note to say I’d be away a few days. Didn’t they get it?”

At that moment, Ken Reeve came bursting into the room. “Robin was right. It was Calypso tearing up the road. Where have you been? And what did you do to your hair?”

“I dyed it!
And if you’ll all drop out of panic mode, I’ll tell you why I dyed it and where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing,” Kelly yelled back, glaring at all of them. Then she turned less aggressively to Pat. “That is, if I can have a drink to soothe my throat after all the shouting I have to do in this house to get listened to.”

It was Todd who provided the juice and then sat down at the table, where she began the recital of her inquiries.

“Nrrna helped?” Todd interrupted as she began. Then, “How well did you know this Dalkey? Can you trust him?”

“I probably shouldn’t have mentioned his name,” Kelly said tartly, “but I trust you not to repeat it. And not to get stupid about me approaching the only one I felt could help us. And he’s still helping us, or rather Inspector DeVeer is.”

“Cool it, Todd,” Ken said in an aside. “Continue, Kelly.”