Moon Flower (30 page)

Shearer nodded slowly. “Yes. I know what you mean. I’ve noticed it too.” He hadn’t said anything about it because he had wondered if it was his imagination, or maybe a reaction to strange surroundings and the knowledge of being so remote from everything that was familiar.

“You have? Really?” Jerri said.

He nodded. “It happens at night. I think of it as being more ‘in touch’ with the universe.”

“I felt it the first night we were at Soliki’s — just looking out over the town after Evassanie was asleep. It was so strange, as if Earth and everything about it was a million years ago, fading into a fog, and only Cyrene existed in the future. It sounds crazy, but we’d only been here a matter of days, and it felt like home already.... I felt I didn’t want to go back.”

It was uncanny. “I know,” he said.

“You too?”

He watched her face for a moment, the silent pleading written across it. “Yes.”

“You could stay here and make a new life? Find a home?”

He tightened his arm around her shoulder, drew her closer, and grinned. “Sure. But it would have to have a dog in it,” he told her.

The mini sambot hidden in the darkness under the fernlike plants growing a few yards away was about the size of a human hand and configured as a six-legged spider. It had made its way from the reconnaissance drone that had landed with a whisper a quarter of a mile away soon after darkness fell. As it listened, it interspersed periodic images with the transmission that it was sending back. When Shearer and Jerri finally got up and went to the carriage to awaken Uberg, the robot followed them. When they moved away, it scurried up one of the wheels, reconfigured two of its legs into longer grasping appendages, and found itself a lodgement among the axle and suspension.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The first dawn was cloudy and misty with some light rain, but it broke up with the second rising, and by the time they set off again the skies were partly sunny and brightening. Soon they found themselves passing between two high, rocky shoulders at the head of a gorge, with the valley of the Geevar spread out below as a carpet of trees, and the ribbon of river winding along the bottom. Hills rose again on the far side, and from their elevated situation they could see higher land beyond, which had to be the Harzonne region.

As they descended, the wind that had been noticeable higher up died away. Trees reappeared and became thicker, and the land grew greener. Occasional huts and groups of domesticated animals starting to put in appearances, and the rutted track gradually transformed into a reasonably kept road.

It took until the middle part of the day to reach the valley floor and get to the river. The trees had been cleared in places for fields and small farms, and the houses in some places were quite numerous — although with nothing that could really be described as a village. Eventually they stopped at a house with a large animal shed and some outbuildings, where a woman attended by a bevy of small children made them welcome and provided soup with bread, in exchange for which Chev gave her some provisions from Doriden. The dialect was different from that around Revo, and for the most part the Terrans had to rely on Chev with his NIDA to follow what was being said. Her husband was working with neighbors a short distance away along the valley, digging ditches. She was clearly fascinated to meet some of the aliens that she had heard of but so far never seen. It seemed odd to her that they could fly from other stars and yet were traveling in a carriage — but who was she to question the ways of people of whom she knew nothing? The children, as usual, became instant fans of Nim.

They crossed the Geevar river by a ford a couple of miles farther on that the woman directed them to, where the water widened into shallow sand and pebble beds in a steeply banked glade overhung by enormous trees. On the far side they turned right to follow the river back upstream toward the east, which would bring them to the only way within many miles of continuing northward to the Harzonne. The road was soon engulfed on all sides by dense forest, which closed overhead, sometimes for miles at a time, to form an unbroken canopy. Uberg expressed feelings of relief. He had been concerned about their exposure on the higher, open ground for the last two days, and the risk of being spotted by Terran satellites and other surveillance.

“Why would they take any particular interest in this carriage?” Jerri asked. “There must be hundreds of things going on in every direction around Revo.”

Uberg sook his head and didn’t seem reassured. “You just never know with those people,” he said.

“Maybe that was why Wade chose an area like this to hole up in,” Shearer suggested.

“That would make sense, I suppose,” Uberg agreed.

With the onset of the double-sun period of the day, the air in the forest became heavy and humid. There was little to see but immense trunks, curtains of hanging creepers, and tangles of undergrowth receding into shadows. Opening the windows of the carriage let in annoying, buzzing insects; closing them again made it hot and oppressive inside. Uberg took of his jacket, loosened his shirt, and arranged some cushions around himself, among which he sank into a doze. On the seat opposite, Jerri lay back to rest her head on Shearer’s shoulder. At least the road now was covered in needles and leaf mold, a lot smoother than the bumpy ride down from the heights earlier that morning.

“That woman back there,” Jerri said absently after a while. “The soup was probably for her kids.”

“I’m sure they’ll enjoy the fish and the bird that Chev gave them,” Shearer said.

“Yes, I know. But even before he said anything about that, we just show up and she’s ladling out dishes.... It reminds me of a lot of places I’ve seen on Earth that people where we come from would think of as a bit backward.”

“In your field work you mean?”

“Yes. Parts of southeast Europe, where they’ve always had trouble of some kind or another going on. Places in South America. It’s always the people who have the least who are the most generous. They’ll share their last bowl of soup with you — the way she did. The ones who have the most are the meanest. You’d think it would be the other way around.”

Shearer wasn’t sure he felt like getting into another philosophical debate. He was on the point of dropping off to sleep himself. “That’s probably how you come to have the most to begin with,” he said, shrugging.

She dug him in the ribs with an elbow. “Cynic.”

“Maybe it’s because people here have never had to listen to four-hundred-pound armchair generals who’ve never been in anything riskier than a computer game talking tough about how you have to be mean to survive,” Shearer said. “You’ve seen how Cyreneans played the nuts game.

“Cyreneans wouldn’t. It’s the way Darco said back at Doriden. They don’t need something outside to give them direction. Somehow they find it inside....” Shearer stopped speaking as the carriage halted. A moment later there was a rap on the side from up above, and Chev’s voice called down.

“We’ve got company.” Jerri sat up, and Shearer leaned past her to open a window and look out. A hundred yards or so ahead was a small clearing among the trees, from which roads went two ways. A figure on a horse was sitting motionless at the fork.

“Any idea what it means?” Shearer called back to Chev.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Could it mean trouble, do you think?”

“Well, I can’t say it never happens.”

Shearer remembered Korsofal, the first Cyrenean they had met outside the base on the day they landed, and how he had carried a sword slung from his saddle. He had asked himself several times if they should have made some such provision before leaving Revo — not that he would have had much idea how to use such weapons. Chev had a sword and a crossbow-style device that he carried up on the driver’s box. If this did bode some kind of trouble, they were all in his hands now. Behind Shearer in the carriage, Jerri was shaking Uberg awake.

“How does Nim measure up in situations like this?” Shearer asked her, turning his head.

“He can do his share if he has to,” she said. As if on cue, Nim had pushed himself into the window alongside Shearer to take in the scene, and was emitting low growling sounds from deep in his throat. Shearer put a restraining hand on his collar.

“Well, we can’t turn around, and we can’t stay here,” Shearer said up to Chev. “Just carry on easy, and see what happens.”

Chev urged the horses into motion again at a slow walking pace. A second mounted figure became visible a short distance back behind the first, in the shade. As the carriage drew nearer, the second horseman moved forward and up beside the first. Chev stopped again when they were about ten yards away.

Nothing happened for five, maybe ten seconds. Then the one whom Shearer had seen initially eased his mount forward, the other following. He wore a wide-brimmed hat turned upward on both sides, and an open coat gathered at the waist, with huge epaulettes standing out to exaggerate the shoulders. The hat was a jaunty affair with a large, curling feather gracing one side. His face, now visible under the brim had a pointy beard with mustachios that echoed the rakishness of his hat. Rembrandt on horseback.

An exchange in Yocalan with Chev followed. Since Chev was still wearing his NIDA, his side of it came back through Shearer’s unit as, “We are, indeed. Cheveka Tivenius, at your service. At present on business of the esteemed Vattorix himself, no less. And who might I have the honor of addressing?... Indeed?... And this gentlemen is?... None at all. The journey went smoothly.... We did, and they are all well.... Yes, they are, and with another.... None, I’m sure.... Oh yes, ha-ha! A Terran
glok
.... All the way from Earth.... No, it’s very friendly. But I don’t think I’d want to find out what happens if you tease it too much. But let me introduce you.”

Shearer had by this time climbed down and was helping Jerri out, while Uberg waited to follow her. The horseman swung down from his saddle and doffed his enormous hat. “My friends,” Chev said from his perch up on the box, “meet Carsio Eckelan, who tells us he was a designer and builder of ships up in Ibennis, and is now honored to work with the Terran Wade, whom you seek.” He gestured and looked at Eckelan. “These are Marc Shearer, the inquirer into nature, and Dominic Uberg, the authority on flowers and plants, that you were sent to meet. And with them is Jerri Perlok, who studies people and how they live...” Chev glanced at Jerri questioningly, as if inviting her to agree. She nodded.

Eckelan then said something to Chev, but all the time looking at Uberg. Chev translated: “He says then maybe Dr. Uberg is the one he should address. These appear to be times of strange dealings among Terrans, when words are not believed and appearances are not trusted. He has been told by Evan Wade that if you are indeed the ones he has been expecting, you will be carrying a token from him that he would be able to identify.”

The Terrans looked at each other in puzzlement for a few seconds, and the Shearer murmured, “The rose.”

“Ah, oh yes, of course.” Uberg reached inside his coat and drew out a wallet, from which he extracted an envelope. He opened the envelope and handed Eckelan the pressed, dried specimen of
Rosa spinosissima
that Korsofal had delivered with the letter from Wade.

Eckelan nodded, satisfied, and returned it, then nodded up at his companion. “It is they.”

Shearer looked up at the other, still sitting on his horse, who was now grinning. He had an unusually fair face for a Cyrenean, with blond curly hair showing beneath a low cap, and eyes that could have been blue. It seemed a good time to return the courtesy of the aliens always seemingly making the effort to communicate in English. Shearer offered haltingly in the best Yocalan he could muster, “Gree-tings. The plea-sure is ours. We come in friend-li-ness to your land.”

The other’s grin broadened. “Never mind all that crap, mate.” The twang was natural Australian. “You’re the fella that Evan’s been waiting for, right? Glad ta meetcha. The name’s Nick Parker.”

Parker climbed down to join Eckelan, and in the ensuing round of handshakes he introduced himself as a medical physician from the first manned mission. Eventually, he said, so many Terrans had left the base that he decided he’d be of more service to them on the outside than by staying in. Formalities being completed, Eckelan stepped forward to hold open the carriage door and gestured. “Please.... We will take you to Wade.”

The two horsemen remounted, turned, and moved ahead along the road branching to the right. Chev started the carriage again to follow. From the window Shearer made out two more mounted figures leading, who must have been stationed farther back. And then four more emerged from the trees behind where the carriage had stopped. The reception party had certainly not meant to take chances.

For a while the road continued winding its way upward through convoluted country of valleys and hills, but the dense covering of greenery remained. Then, from a high point it began descending again. They seemed to have left the valley that they had followed from the Geevar, and were now dropping down into another basin lying to the north of it. The last light from Ra Alpha was barely filtering through the trees to the west by the time they rounded a bend to be suddenly confronted by a large, gray, stone building standing on the far side of a a fenced paddock and one or two small fields. A smaller cottage stood close by, along with a number of sheds and storehouses. The main house was almost hidden, visible mainly as a collection of gables and parapets poking above the orange and green treetops. It could have been a remote mansion built by some recluse; the seat of something resembling a monastic order, or body given to contemplation and study, maybe. Perhaps it had been built as some kind of castle or defensive post.

A track from the gateway opening onto the road led around the house to the main entrance, where a group of figures was standing, obviously waiting. Presumably they had been alerted by a scout sent out to watch, or by somebody who had ridden on ahead. As the carriage halted, a tall, broad figure in the center, wearing a bush shirt with jeans and a padded sleeveless vest, came forward, his teeth flashing in the gathering darkness as he smiled. His hair was wilder than when Shearer had last seen it, his face darker and more weathered, and he had acquired a shaggy beard streaked with gray. But his voice was as hearty as ever as Shearer came tumbling down from the carriage to receive a hefty clap across the shoulder.