Only Human (29 page)

"Who would have thought that a place
like this exists on Shaddallam," she said. "It's beautiful!"

Greah's gaze took in the rich lowlands.
"This is where I used to live," he said wistfully. "Before your
enemy drove us away. They took our towns but left us to our plantations. I
lived in the city of Shad Areen at the time. My house is now theirs." His
voice broke on the last word.

She patted his thin shoulder, feeling
awkward. Her eyes scanned the far horizon, looking for air traffic. "Over
there," she said, shielding her eyes with her hand. "Planes. Mostly
skimmers, I think, and some shrills."

"Yes, that's Shad Laika. Shad Areen is
a ways back, by the lakes."

They began their descent into the valley.
Soon Greah slid off the bird's back to jog ahead, finding pathways that the animal
could negotiate. The small creature seemed tireless. Nova spotted his slight
form now and again among the dense foliage. At times he paused and listened,
then whistled softly. Twice he climbed a tree as nimbly as the monkey-like
animals she saw more frequently now. Then he startled her by overtaking them when
she had been certain that she had just seen his multi-jointed body slip through
a stand of broadleaf ferns in front of her.

Nova closed her eyes and concentrated on Tychon's
signal, ready to pull back should she touch him too firmly. The static evenness
of their khamal had faded to nearly nothing. When she prodded, he responded
with a startled flinch, then puzzlement. He would not answer.

Ty?

There was no reply.

"Greah!"

He appeared quickly, making a running jump
at the bird. "We almost reached the edge of this forest," he
reported, smiling at the trees above. "Then we cross the meadows and ford
a river. We make our camp on the northern bank.”

"Ty's not answering," Nova
interrupted.

"Is he dead?"

"No! Don't say that. I can still feel
him." Her voice shook. "I know they've beaten him to make him talk.
Now he's too hurt to even talk to me."

"Could he be sleeping?"

"I'd know that. No, Greah, he's sick
or something."

Greah spurred the sandrunner on. "But
not dead," he said.

As he had promised, they reached a
treeless, marshy area where the runner was able to gain more speed in great,
splashing strides. Without hesitation, it followed Greah's command to wade into
the river. Once across, they continued on foot through the low marsh that ran
along the river, then onto higher ground where they stopped to rest.

The dry morsels of food from their baggage
almost made Nova wish for a hot tray of 'space slop'. Their meager supplies
were nearly gone. Ishet had not taken her size into account when he had packed
their provisions. Soon Nova would have to get used to eating the bitter
succulents that supplemented Greah's diet.

"We're now in Shad Laika." Greah
scratched a crude map into the dark soil near a tree. "The rebel base is
not far." He pointed past her shoulder. "It was a town at one point
though much of it is now ruined. Their planes are kept on the western
side."

"We'll need one of those. How well is
the town guarded?"

"Very."

"Then we should go in the dark, my
vague little friend. Now."

"Now?"

She nodded. "It will be dark by the
time we get there. If your picture there is to scale."

"What is your plan?"

"I have no plan. A plan is good only
if you have an army to lead and no time to change plans if necessary. With luck
I'll come up with something when I see the place."

"That's as good a plan as any. Perhaps
Ty's been able to think of something."

"Right now he's not even
thinking," Nova mumbled.

They mounted the runner that now headed
west at Greah's urging. Nova huddled in her short robe, swathed against the
growing chill of the evening as well as Shaddallam's annoying, innumerable
insects. They followed the calm waterway in silence. Nova had almost begun to
doze when the bird halted. Greah dropped to the ground and led it into a
thicket of low bushes.

"Should be all right here," he announced,
commanding the runner to settle. Nova climbed off and relieved the bird of
their small store of supplies.

They set out at once in the direction of
the ruined town, taking only their guns. Shaddallam's sun had gone down,
leaving them to find their way in the moonless dark. Greah led her away from
the river as the forest thinned out. A crude road, no more than an overgrown
path, signaled nearby settlement. They kept to the underbrush, remaining
hidden. Nova was startled when a high wall suddenly barred her way. She had
been intent on the uneven ground before them.

They crept closer to the road where the
gate loomed open and forbidding. She scanned the wall, looking for surveillance
cameras. She saw only clumps of grass and moss growing between the rough
stones.

She peered around the gate. Dimly, she made
out the hulking shapes of houses and the winding streets between them.
"You see anything?"

Greah shook his head. "Looks deserted.
Maybe they're all in another part of the town."

"No. I can feel Ty close by. This
seems a little odd, doesn't it? No lights, no sound." She looked up.
"No planes! Greah, this is a rebel base. Why is no one coming or
going?" She stepped over a few stone slabs partially buried where they had
fallen from the wall. "This can't be a trap. They think I'm dead. Unless
Ty told them differently."

Greah shook his head. "Such a trap for
just one person? If they thought you were coming they'd just send some of their
creatures to get you. Maybe they all left."

"Don't say that! I don't even have the
means to get off this planet." She crept along the wall. "I'm afraid
you're right, though. This place is dead. But they've left Ty. He must be
awfully hurt. Maybe he'd dying, Greah!"

He patted her arm. "Nova..."

She shook her head impatiently. "Come
on, Greenie, hold it together." She turned back to Greah. "I'll go
for Ty. You check out if they've left anything flyable behind. A ground vehicle
will do, too, for now. Try to find some food and clean water. We'll meet back
here."

Greah nodded and disappeared at once. Nova
was not sure if she had actually seen him move from the spot. He had simply
faded into the darkness.

Feeling her way along the deserted town was
a matter of stubbed toes and scraped hands in the deep Shaddallam night. Her
brightest beacon was Tychon's mute signal. She searched for a cell or other
enclosure that could be used as prison. Many of the structures here were in
ruin, helped along by the carelessness of the looters that had taken the town
from its rightful owners. The streets were littered with furnishings and
building materials as well as garbage and excrement. Many of the small
buildings' doorways had been smashed by those tired of stooping to gain access.

The source of the mental contact emitted
from a low building, its door wide open, at the edge of an open plaza. She
crept closer, listening for sounds in the dark. Hiding in the cover of a
central fountain, she thought she heard a voice but whatever it was fell silent
again. She dashed across the open space and peered into the building. A lamp
shone within, allowing her to see inside. It was a long hall, housing two rows
of rough-hewn bunks and little else. She guessed it to have been a temporary
shelter for Tharron's Rhuwacs. The stench gave that away.

"Ty!" Nova's relief was
boundless. She holstered her gun and entered the building.

Tychon, without shirt or jacket, faced away
from her, sitting on a bunk, and did not flinch when her call broke the silence
of the dead town.

Nova hesitated. The skin of his back and
arms was bruised in many places. His long hair hung unheeded over oozing wounds
and, like much of him, was matted with dirt. Or blood.

"Ty?" Nova called again, coming
closer to him.

He turned to watch her approach.

"What did they do to you?" she
cried, seeing deep scratches across his chest. His lip was cut and one eye was nearly
closed by a blood-encrusted bruise.

He smiled and perhaps that was the worst
sight of all. He raised both hands which, trembling, held a pistol that, in the
dim light, flashed a warning that it had been set to wide flash. Aimed at her
now, it would kill him just as quickly.

* * *

"You see, Colonel Carras, this could
quite likely mean a huge saving in Targon's operating costs. Why, your one-time
investment will pay for itself within two years! After that, there are only the
usual upkeep costs such as food and lodging. Imagine the vast amounts you now
budget for wages! For that you can renovate, purchase new equipment, and
finance research! Let's have a look at your current expenditures in terms of
wages, shall we?"

"We shall not," Carras grumbled,
dearly wanting to know how this salesman had wrangled his audience. "I'm
afraid that we are not interested in replacing our support staff. It is a
matter of security."

The slave trader had a ready answer.
"Ah, but I have a sizable shipment of Cirulis Chaykos. Easily trained and
absolutely incapable of comprehending our language system."

Carras sighed. "Mr. Deleo, I know what
Chaykos are capable of. We use robotics for those functions."

Deleo was undaunted. He had gotten past
Targon's screening system through chance and cunning; it had taken him nearly
two months of persistent maneuvering to obtain an appointment with the Colonel.
Here at last, he would not give up easily. "I see. Well, how about
entertainment? You need females? I've got females!"

"This is a Union installation and it
is against Union policy to own slaves, no matter how common the practice is
elsewhere."

"Even abolitionists do not object to
our labor force! I do not deal in slaves!"

"We have classified them as sentients
and they are therefore slaves," Carras said firmly, knowing that Deleo
also dealt in true slaves, such as were abducted from Magra, Bellac Tau, K'lar
and Shaddallam.

Shaddallam! Why were Nova and Tychon not sending
reports? Two days ago they had used a relay placed at the nearest jumpsite and
transmitted updates. Since then, only Vanguard One had reported in with news
about rebel activity on Shaddallam but nothing conclusive about the boy. Where
was Vanguard Seven?

"If it is a matter of financing, we
can arrange excellent terms."

Carras felt himself reach the boiling point
when he heard a discreet knock on the door. "Enter!"

His aide approached him with a sidelong glance
at the slave trader. "I'm sorry, Colonel," he said. He would have
found something with which to interrupt this meeting even if his message had
not been of the utmost importance, given Carras' feelings toward slave traders
and salesmen in general. Slaves on Targon, indeed!

"Quite all right, we have concluded
our business," Carras said, his eyes on Deleo.

His aide bent to murmur into his ear.

Carras suppressed his shock. "Mr.
Deleo," he said curtly. "Do not let me keep you any longer. It has
been a pleasure to meet with you." The Colonel rose from behind his desk
and hurried after his aide, leaving the baffled trader to gather his notes and
catalog tapes.

"Why was I not informed, Soto?"
Carras stormed along the hall, buttoning the collar of his uniform. His aide
hurried after him with his gun belt, as necessary as the polished insignia on
the Colonel's sleeve.

"
Erato
only dropped into normal
space a few minutes ago, sir. We were not advised of her arrival. Security
measures, I was told."

"Doesn't anyone use charts
anymore?" Carras barely waited for him to clear the doors into the lift
shaft. "Who's
Erato
's commander now?"

"Lieutenant Colonel McDougall, sir. He
has requested a clear flight path."

"At least someone's thinking!"

"Yessir," Soto said.
Erato
had come in without a whisper. When the reasons for the battleship's sudden
appearance were questioned, a coded message arrived that Baroch, one of the Ten
Factors, was aboard. Baroch on a battleship! On Targon! Soto barely contained
his curiosity.

"Shall I order a security detachment?"

"Negative," Carras said.
"Business as usual."

They arrived in the hangars in time to
catch their breath before two of
Erato
's kites dove out of the sky and
into the landing bays.

Two pilots emerged from the small ships and
walked toward a ready room without removing their helmets.

"Fetch me my flight suit, Soto. Baroch
has sent his own honor guard." Carras, too, moved toward the lounge. His
aide disappeared.

Carras entered the room. "This is
certainly a surprise," he said. "Perhaps we may be warned before you
drop such exalted company onto our heads." His hand reached for a flight
helmet before he realized that one of the pilots had remained standing at
attention, an unusual happenstance on the flight decks, even in the presence of
a Colonel. The other was only now removing his helmet. Carras' hand snapped
back from the shelf and joined the other behind his back. "Sire!"