Powers That Be (13 page)

“Intergal is trying damned hard to find those minerals they can see from up there.”

“Yeah, they do keep trying, don’t they?” That amused Bunny. “There. All your gear stowed safe and tight. Let’s get home. I got dogs to feed.” When they had reached the main road out of SpaceBase, she had other questions. “Who’s this captain dude, anyway? The colonel really snapped to when he arrived, like he wasn’t expected and not all that welcome, either.”

Yana chuckled. “His name’s Fiske, Torkel Fiske. Son of the family that developed the terraforming process used here.”

“They did Petaybee?” Bunny turned very wide eyes on Yana. “How come you know him?”

“Served on the same ship a coupla times. That’s all.”

“That’s
all
?”

“That’s all, Bunny,” Yana said in a tone to discourage further queries. And yet, it started her to thinking. Torkel had sure acted glad to see her. Now, when a guy like Torkel Fiske could bed practically any female he wanted, why had he been so attentive to her, Yanaba Maddock? Had he actually known, all along, that she was on a covert mission in the village? He had sounded genuinely surprised. Or was he just surprised to have run into her at SpaceBase? Had he meant what he said, about the possibility of evacuating everyone from Petaybee so they could blast the planet apart to find the minerals they had been after for so many years? “Ever wanted to get off Petaybee, Bunny? Get to see other worlds, where the living’s a bit easier?”

Bunny shot her a quick glance. “Why would I want to leave Petaybee? I belong here, Yana. Not just because I was born here. I belong here! I belong to this planet.” Then she clamped her lips shut and concentrated on her driving.

She had returned to her normal cheerful self when she slowed the snocle to a stop exactly parallel with the steps to Yana’s little house.

“I’ll unload, Yana,” she said. “You go tend your fire. Some of this stuff won’t do for freezing.”

“Only if you agree to eat with me?”

Bunny grinned. “You mean, you want me to cook for you again?”

Yana waggled a package of dehydrated veggies at the girl in mock threat. “I got me things even I can’t ruin.”

There had been a most curious selection of foodstuffs available at SpaceBase, as well as basic things like flour, beetshug, and powdered yeast in a can big enough to supply the entire village for the next decade. She had several big tins of pepper and other hot seasonings. She would use those to trade. She had acquired a ream of paper, a box of inked styluses, and a ream of message tapes: the whole village could send one apiece to Charlie. Compared to the village store, the SpaceBase BX was a cornucopia of useful and occasional unlikely commodities.

In an inside pocket she had as neat a little pair of infrared night binoculars as could be found, just the thing for seeing distances on a snow landscape. She had a first-aid kit, though some of the contents had long since passed their expiry dates, but she had wanted the compact field instruments more than the medicines. She had a heavy-duty thermal sleeping bag, another quilt, clothing, skis, snowshoes, an ax, a hatchet, cross- and hacksaws, and enough nails and screws to set up a carpentry shop. And much to her delight, she had discovered, lying dusty on a bottom shelf beneath items of uniform apparel, several lengths of prettily figured fabric in bright colors, no doubt left over from the days when the soldiers’ families were allowed to visit and trade on the base, too.

Also scattered among the more strictly utilitarian goods, she found other items apparently for sale or trade with civilians: beads, belts, glues for several different types of jobs, a carpenter’s last in her foot size, three each of plates, bowls, and cups, a big skillet, two more pots, and a multiple knife with a six-foot run-out cord she had already attached to her belt.

She had a pail of multiple vitamins and minerals with an expiry date two years hence, and three boxes of the trail rations designed for Petaybee conditions. There had been cartons of those, newly shipped in, or so the quartermaster had told her. Plus a big can of freeze-dried coffee and another of real tea, and a few other comestibles that, as she had told Bunny, she knew she couldn’t ruin in the serving.

She set about opening the cans she chose to serve, slopping the contents into appropriate pans and arranging them on the stove, which had not gone out. She had coaxed it to a more active state and was determined that this time she wouldn’t be distracted from her task.

Clodagh’s cat had watched her put things away with very interested eyes.

“Taking inventory, cat? How good do you count?”

The cat blinked insolently at her.

She had the meal prepared, rather proud of herself at producing more than a single pot of edible food. Bunny was certainly appreciative. Then, after dinner, Yana presented her with a length of the pretty fabric, the blue, which she felt would be a flattering color for Bunny. She was totally unprepared for the joy and prolific thanks, the hint of tears in Bunny’s eyes.

“I never had anything this grand before, Yana,” the girl said softly, holding the fabric to her face and rubbing it across her weather-chapped cheek. Then, with a wide smile, she beamed at Yana. “I’ll be the belle of the latchkay in this.” Her face dropped and she frowned. “That is, if Aisling can make it up in time for me. She’s awful busy as it is.”

“Aisling does your dressmaking, too?” Yana had been counting on the woman’s services herself, and she ran through her barter goods to think what would be most appropriate.

“Yup, when there’s something to do, and something to make with,” Bunny said, still caressing the fabric in her lap. “What did ya get for yourself?”

Yana unfolded the deep-green-figured length.

“Ohhh, now that’s ace, Yana, you’ll look great in that!”

“Think so?” Yana held it up against herself. She hadn’t had much in the way of feminine frippery in a long time, not since Bry, who had liked her in nightgowns. Which he promptly took off, a habit that had tickled her errant humor.

“Yes, I think so. And Sinead has some beads that would bring out the background green. Why, I can see it made up already. Wait a tic!” And Bunny was out the door, hauling on her parka as she went.

Yana folded her length up carefully, her fingers savoring the smooth finish, and set about clearing up the remains of their supper. She saved a dollop of the protein in the pan and put it down for the cat, who sniffed it then pawed around it as if trying to bury it.

Bunny returned with a flourish, Sinead and Aisling behind her. Without taking off her parka, she rushed over to the chair where she had put the blue and held it up for the two to see, letting the folds fall about her. “See? Isn’t it the most gorgeous stuff you’ve ever seen?”

Yana thought she had never seen anyone get so much pleasure out of cloth.

The rest of the evening was taken up by discussions of styles and decorations for both latchkay blouses. Aisling had taken charge of the two lengths, holding them up against Yana and Bunny, draping them this way and that to see how the finished design would fall and, Yana noticed, smoothing the fabric as if her hands, too, had rarely felt such quality. Sinead was sent back to their cabin to bring up certain trimmings and beads, to be sure that the colors matched, and then that the patterns of beading and decoration were approved.

“Hear you got up to my brother’s place,” Sinead murmured when Bunny and Aisling were deep in the consideration of cut and style. Her eyes were intent on Yana’s face. “Did he show you around much?”

“I think he did. Saw the curly-coats, and those great cats of his.”

Sinead grinned, but her expression was as secretive as it was inquisitive, so Yana didn’t know why Sinead had brought Sean up in the conversation. Could Sinead possibly know about their trip to the warm springs? That was
their
business.

“No seals?”

Yana managed to hide her reaction to that softly delivered query. She turned her head and met Sinead’s keen eyes easily. “One. It seemed to like fresh water, though, which I thought was a little strange.”

Sinead eyed her a long moment and then, with a cryptic grin, turned away. “We got a lot o’ strange beasties on Petaybee.”

“Oh? Why haven’t I come across any yet?” Yana asked good-humoredly, despite the fact that her pulse had begun to race. This was exactly what Giancarlo wanted to know. Did Sinead realize that?

“I think you have to discover them for yourself. Like the seals. Tell you what, why don’t you come check the traplines with me sometime? You might be surprised what you see when you know what to look for. Sometime soon maybe.”

“Thanks. I’ll take you up on that,” Yana said, careful not to sound too excited.

Sinead turned back to arranging beads, wires, and trimming for Bunny to inspect.

Then, before Yana could quiz Bunny on the barter aspects of the new clothing, Aisling and Sinead had folded up the two lengths, cleared away the trimmings, and were out the door into the dark cold night.

“I didn’t discuss price with ’em,” Yana said to Bunny.

“Naw, that comes later, if you like what they do. And they’re good, Yana. Aisling sews like a dream, and Sinead is a wizard with the beads and trims. You don’t need to worry they’d muck up material like that! And gee, I’ve never had such pretty stuff for a latchkay blouse.” The girl’s eyes shone. “I can’t thank you enough . . .”

“Pshaw! That’s
my
thanks for your help, Buneka. But the latchkay’s coming up soon, isn’t it? Will the blouses be finished in time?”

“Sure.” Bunny grinned. “They left so they could start. You wait and see. We’ll be the fanciest-dressed females there!”

Diego was surprised to see the snocle-driver girl again, but at the same time, in one part of his mind, he knew he had been waiting for her. Or if not for her exactly, he had been waiting for
something
to happen to relieve the heaviness that had fallen on him since he had returned to SpaceBase. He had come outside, the cold air being a change from the smelly stuff inside his quarters. It was also something to do, and the only sure way he knew to keep from trying to choke that dickhead of a colonel who kept on and on with questions Diego was sure his father didn’t even hear. Why didn’t they leave his dad alone?

“Diego? Hi. It’s me, Bunny,” the girl said, keeping her voice low and looking around her, as if she was worried about being seen.

“Hi. Did you bring me a cake with a file in it?”

“Huh?” she asked.

“Just an old joke I read in a book someplace. Sorry. Nice to see you again but—”

“Look, I just came to find out if anybody told you yet.”

“Told me what?” Diego demanded. He hadn’t meant to be surly, but that’s how it came out. He was feeling pretty impatient with all of the guessing games and little hints being passed over his head all the time.

The girl merely looked at him, exasperated, then said slowly and patiently, as if talking to a very small child, which he supposed was how he was acting, “My friend, Major Maddock, got her friend the captain to send for Steve.”

“She did?” Diego sat upright, staring at her. “How d’you know?”

“She told me. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

“Nope. Wow, that’s great,” he said. He’d be okay, Dad would be okay, if Steve was coming. Steve would straighten everything out. Steve would believe him, even if the colonel and the others didn’t, and Steve would know how to handle these assholes, get them to leave him and Dad alone. His relief was so intense it scared him. Maybe this was some sort of scheme, raising his hopes like this. “You sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure.” She gave a disgusted flick of her hand. “I don’t go about spreading rumors. Wanna come to the latchkay?”

“Latchkay? What’s that?”

“Party. Everyone’s coming. Good singing, good music, good eating,” she said, and Diego could see that she was excited.

“Dunno,” he said. “I don’t feel much like going to a party with Dad the way he is. Besides, I’m not sure Giancarlo will let me.”

Bunny grinned smugly. “So don’t ask him. Ask Captain Fiske. Just tell him that Major Maddock told me to ask you, and he’ll let you come for sure. He likes her.”

“Yeah? Well, as long as my dad’s condition doesn’t change or anything, you know, I guess I could. Nothin’ else goin’ on around here.”

Her grin broadened. “You’ll be glad you did,” she told him. “Get to meet a lot of good people and hear some good songs.”

“That’d be a change. Sure is no one here you could call ‘good.’ What kind of songs?”

“Ones my people know. Ones they write about us and our history.
Good
songs,” she said.

If things had been normal, if he were back on the ship and his father had never come here and he had never come here and they had never found the cave, he might have made a smart remark, might have said something to make fun of her. But now that seemed like kid stuff. She was serious, and he felt as if he owed it to her to be serious, too. “What are they like?”

“Well, some are things you sing and some are things you chant. Some rhyme and some don’t. But they all tell you stuff about things that happen to people, things that happen on the planet.”

“Like poems?”

“I guess so. We just call them songs. What’re poems like?”

He grinned and said, “Wait a minute,” and went back to his bunk, pulling one of his precious hard-copy books from his pack. His nose was half-frozen, but he didn’t care. He took the book back out and thumbed it open to a page. “Here’s one I bet you’ll like.

“ ‘A bunch of the boys were whoopin’ it up

At the Malamute saloon . . .’ ”

He read her the whole poem, and she really seemed to like it, and then she recited something of hers, what she called a song. He had to admit it was pretty good, but he suddenly felt too shy to tell her then that he had tried a few himself. Besides, he was about to freeze to death standing outside the ugly blocky building talking poetry with a girl who dressed like a gorilla. “Guess I’d better go check on Dad,” he said apologetically.

“Is he any better today?” Bunny asked.

“He’ll be a lot better if Steve gets here. You sure you’re not spoofing me about that?”