Orion Shall Rise (33 page)

He glanced at the big young woman.
The pilot’s well designed too. And she did a neat job of getting us off, in those heavy seas.

They ran beneath him now, gray and green, shaking their white manes, but the night wind that raised them had died down and fifteen hundred meters of altitude made a vast circle of them, intricately and shiftingly patterned. Only a few clouds, sunlit from aft, broke the blue above. Skyholm had dropped under the eastern horizon.

Iern’s pulse beat high. He should have been tired after his sleepless night; excitement had forbidden his getting a nap while
Mount Hood
bore him off. He wasn’t, nor did he feel dread or grief anymore. An underground part of him reproved the rest for being lighthearted, even joyful, when the Domain and everybody he held dear lay under a weight of trouble. He paid small attention. He was free, off to do battle but first to explore the world!

Faylis’ betrayal had stopped hurting.
At least things have come out in the open. I don’t
suppose I’ll want revenge on her
when
I return. Already she seems like a dream dreamed long ago.

And meanwhile –
He was growing acutely aware of Ronica. He
hadn’t had a woman for worse than two weeks, Faylis reluctant and he too busy to seek elsewhere (which would doubtless have been wrong anyway when the land mourned good old Captain Toma) and afterward on the run. This Norrie wench was, indeed, magnificently engineered and obviously full of life. If he wasn’t being wishful, he also felt a – perhaps not exactly sultriness – a banked fire in her, ready to blaze up at a touch.

‘I’d be interested to fly this craft myself,’ he ventured.

She gave him a straightforward look. Her eyes were ocean-colored in the strong features, her hair fell past her shoulders in thick amber waves, contained only by a beaded headband. Her bosom stretched a shirt unbuttoned halfway down it; trousers hugged full hips and long legs. A huge sheath knife added an arousing suggestion of wildness. ‘Why, sure.’ Her voice came husky through the engine-throb that filled the cabin and made it tremble. ‘I was sort of counting on you to spell me, in fact, since learning you’re a Storm-rider. Maybe you can teach me a few tricks.’ Her Angley was more accented and less fluent than Mikli’s, but it sufficed.

Iern grinned. ‘Gladly, mamzell. What sort of tricks have you in mind?’

Mikli’s ashtray breath reached him as a laugh at his back. The Norrman laughed often, though the sound was more like a fox-yelp than a peal. ‘If you’re thinking of flying a mattress, which you probably are, dismiss the idea,’ he advised. ‘Insistence can be hazardous to life and limb. I know.’

Ronica flushed under her tan but did not appear offended. ‘I don’t muck around with married men,’ she said matter-of-factly.

‘Oh, you can’t call me married –’ Iern began.

She did show a trace of anger. ‘Mikli is. His wife’s a sweet person who’s been kind to me, but: she has the misfortune to love him. You watch out yourself, Ferlay. He’ll proposition anything on two legs, and I’m not sure about some of the quadrupeds.’

And he her superior!
Iern braced himself for unpleasantness.

Mikli only laughed again. ‘We make a fine team, Ronica and I,’ he said. ‘She does bait splendidly, doesn’t she? And gives as good as she gets. It passes the time. I miss her when we aren’t working together, and for her part, she’s been known to enjoy jokes of mine, proving that she has her human share of low-mindedness.’

‘Enough of this frogfart,’ snapped the woman. She turned her attention forward. ‘Yes, you can try your hand later, Ferlay, but
she’s running nicely on automatic and I’d sooner leave it that way as long as can be.’

‘I understand,’ Iern said. ‘A light plane is vulnerable to weather; that’s when it wants a pilot. Do you think we’ll get some?’

‘Oh, weather we’ve always got,’ she pointed out with a renewed smile. ‘As for the bad kind, who knows?’ A cloud drifted across her mood. She sighed. ‘Once people did. We could ourselves. A station in orbit –’

Mikli cleared his throat. Ronica chopped her words off. Mikli took over: ‘Missy Birken isn’t my subordinate – not in my corps at all. Lucky for me. How would you like to try keeping her under military discipline? But occasionally she takes off from her regular work and does something entirely different, and a few times this has brought us into cooperation.’

‘What is your work?’ Iern inquired of her.

She hesitated, shook her head, and replied, ‘Better change the subject.’

Iern thought of the crates behind him. He had been emphatically informed that their contents were no affair of his. Books, maybe? But what could be secret about a book? Dangerous drugs? He couldn’t imagine the woman trafficking in that, and besides, if he remembered aright, the Northwest Union had no tariffs or restrictions on trade, foreign or domestic. Valuable metals? Every ancient site in western Uropa had lain stripped for centuries, and while he’d heard mention of her having gone east, he didn’t think anything salvageable remained there either. The tribes had brought nothing of that nature to exchange for civilized wares for generations.

What
had
the outlanders been doing in the Domain? Plik’s impression that it was government rather than commercial business seemed vaguely reinforced by Iern’s recent experiences, but might be mistaken. Moreover, from what the clansman knew about the Union – exceedingly little, he realized – he wondered if you could make a distinction between public and private agencies there.

His exuberance shrank. He was going to be very much alone for a while, in a strange land among folk whose purposes were unknown. ‘May I ask some questions?’ he said. ‘You don’t have to answer any that you, um, shouldn’t.’

‘Sure, go ahead.’ Ronica smiled at him once more, reached over, and patted his hand. Hers was warm and hard. Her sleeves were
rolled up; sunlight struck gold from the tiny hairs on her arm. He found it an effort to concentrate on collecting information. ‘I gather you’ve been through a rough spell. Why not put you at ease? Remember, though, I want your story in return!’

‘With pleasure … well, not complete pleasure, under the circumstances, but – Oh, for a start, was my guess right about a stop in Krasnaya?’

‘Yes,’ Mikli responded. ‘Let’s hope the opposition doesn’t make the same guess.’

‘Opposition?’

‘The Maurai, who else?’ Ronica snarled. ‘We’ll ride a flamer if they catch us.’

‘They won’t try, actually,’ Mikli said. ‘What reason do they know to? Doubtless they’ll notice that you and I have not come back to Kemper on the ship, and conclude that I’ve finished my dirty work and you are flying me home. But whatever my villainy was, it must be finished; whatever report I intend to make, I must have alternative channels of communication for it. Besides, we’ll be in Seattle before the ship returns to port. Chasing us would be an expensive exercise in pointlessness. No, I was simply hoping that any investigation they do make doesn’t lead them to our cozy arrangement in Krasnaya.’

Iern felt his throat and shoulder muscles tighten. An electric tingle passed through him. ‘The way you talk,’ he breathed, ‘it’s proof – you and they, secret agents, foreign agents, in the Domain –’

‘No comment,’ Mikli said lightly and kindled a cigarette.

Ronica wrinkled her nose at the smell and made a production of cranking down a window several centimeters. The chill air that came in was somehow calming to Iern, as was her speech: ‘Well, this much comment. We were busy, aye, but not to your harm. The Maurai are our enemies, not your beautiful country and nice people.’

‘What
were
you doing?’ he dared to challenge.

‘Nothing against you! And Mikli – well –’

‘She’s been told no more than she needed to know, which was minimal,’ the Norrman said. ‘Standard precaution in intelligence work. Yes, most of my assignment was to gather intelligence, especially about Maurai activities in Uropa. Also, I hoped to
give
a few of your leaders second thoughts about closer interaction with the
Federation. I’ll be happy to explain to you, at length, why that’s a bad idea for the Domain as well as distressing to the Union.’

‘Did the coup take you by surprise?’ Iern demanded.

‘Oh, my, yes. I’m frankly underjoyed. Captain Jovain can be expected to cultivate Gaeanity, which
is
opposed to everything we stand for in the Northwest. And he speaks of the Domain’s taking an active role around the world: beginning in eastern Uropa, guiding civilization as it revives there. A Gaean-dominated continent – Well, maybe you can do something about that, my friend.’

Ronica gave Iern a regard first startled, then thoughtful.

‘And yet,’ the clansman protested, ‘you are making for Krasnaya, a Gaean country.’

‘That’s different. Haven’t you heard? The Mong Wars are over,’ Mikli replied with mild sarcasm. ‘Relations between their states and the Northwest Union are correct, if not precisely ecstatic. True, Yuan, the largest and strongest, does still throw its weight around to a degree. But Krasnaya no longer gets involved in any shenanigans. It’s peaceful to the point of timidity.’

‘What have you in mind?’

‘A certain polk – regiment, you might say – in Krasnaya maintains an airfield in a fairly isolated location. Its commander is willing to sell supplies to Northwestern flyers who happen by. We do have treaties allowing us a limited number of flights per year over Mong territory. The Maurai know that, of course, but I think we’ve kept knowledge of this particular field, I mean its cooperativeness, from them. Our pilots don’t use it often, bonus payments keep its officers discreet, and why or how should the enlisted personnel notify foreigners? Generally the place serves us as a refueling station for exploratory flights to the wild country east and south.’

Exploratory in search of what?
wondered Iern.

Ronica asked his next question for him: ‘I’ve not been through there myself. Not my stamping grounds. A chance to see Uropa was irresistible, but otherwise – What’ll we do, Mikli? How guard our cargo from snoopers? Camp by the plane?’

‘No, it would be an insult to refuse hospitality. But the seals on these crates will be unbroken when we leave in the morning,’ her associate said. ‘The commander does not wish to lose his little sideline, nor have the details of it passed on to higher echelons.’

‘Good! I’ll really be wanting to stretch myself, come nightfall.’ Ronica moved her elbows in circles, an exercise with incidental
effects pleasing to Iern. He felt relieved by what he had heard, a sense of being among comrades.

Her glance at him buttressed it. ‘You must be plumb worn raggedy,’ she said. ‘Why don’t we have lunch, and afterward you try for a piece of sleep? When you wake, I’d like to hear about you.’

He nodded. His head was, in truth, beginning to feel both scooped-out and heavy.

‘I put sandwiches and a bottle of wine in that red bag on top of our luggage, next to you, Mikli,’ she went on. ‘First, though, I got to piss.’ She unbuckled her safety belt. ‘Hand me the pot, will you? Hell, when we don’t even have any aisle space – It makes no big difference, and the contortionist act needed by a girl will probably be fascinating, but I’ll think the better of you, Iern Ferlay, if you’ll just stare out the window for a few minutes.’

2

The hour was past noon when Terai got aloft. He opened the pod, boarded his jet together with Wairoa and Plik, and stood it on its airy tails just as soon as
Hivao
had cleared the river mouth. To an indignant call from the coast guard station, he replied, ‘I am sorry, I know this
is
illegal and I apologize, but an emergency has arisen. It is my own action and responsibility, no one else’s. Please note I have not overflown any land and am bound west overseas. If you wish to make a formal complaint, please contact the Federation ambassador.’ As yet, there was insufficient traffic between the two nations to warrant consulates.

He pressurized the cabin and climbed steeply. Nothing in Uropa could overhaul this machine except, maybe, a Weather Corps vehicle of the first class, and to the best of his knowledge, all such were too distant from here, and unarmed as well. He turned for a glance, through a rear panel, at the dwindling, sinking moon of Skyholm. If they yonder wanted to fire-blast him, they’d better hurry. He did not expect they would, when his infraction was minor and they had everything else to think about.

The cabin had places for half a dozen, twice as many as were here. Terai had seen no reason to bring more. If he found his quarry under suitable conditions, he could force it down by himself, and either he or Wairoa could use the guns to cover the other if that one had to go out on the ground and secure their prisoners. If he failed
to make the capture, extra men would have wasted their time, possibly risked their lives, for nothing; and much remained for them to learn and accomplish in the Domain, he hoped. According to doctrine, he, the chief of the expedition, should have dispatched a subordinate rather than himself. But their mission was not of a nature to make him indispensable. His second in command could perfectly well take charge, whereas Terai and Wairoa had become a uniquely qualified team in the field.

Moreover – the huge body tautened – that was probably Mikli Karst ahead. Terai had a score to pay off.

Sitting alongside a resentful Plik, Wairoa strove to mollify him: ‘Yes, we did lure you on board in order to kidnap you like this. We regret it far more deeply than we regret violating Domain airspace, but after we have explained, you may agree we had no choice. We will do you no injury, and we will return you as soon as possible and pay you a generous compensation.’

The Angleyman leaned back, let knobbly fists fall open, and regarded his seatmate for a while. ‘How will you return me?’ he inquired. ‘I doubt the authorities will let you land, after what’s happened.’

‘We can call our ship to stand out to sea and take us aboard. Or if that isn’t practical for some reason, we can get you passage of a different sort, through Espayn, for example. It would take longer, but I repeat, you shall be well paid for your time.’