Turning Point (8 page)

When her brother had left, Carrie got to her feet. “Did you ask about Elise?”

A shadow crossed her father's face and he turned away from her. “Yes. They said they had already disposed of her body.

“Go and rest, Carrie. You shouldn't have been working in the taproom. It's my fault. I shouldn't have asked you. Next week when you're stronger, you can start teaching the children again. Until then, I want you to take things easy.”

“But, Dad!” exclaimed Carrie, taking a step toward him. “I'm fine now, really I am.”

“Carrie, for God's sake, go and rest!” her father said, turning angrily on her. “Will you do things my way for a change? First your mother, then Elise. I don't want to lose any more of my family. If I hadn't let myself be persuaded to allow Elise to do a Mata Hari act with the Valtegans, she would be with us now.

“You aren't a strong person, Carrie,” he said, gripping her by the arms and speaking in a quieter voice. “Your health has never been good. Will you please me and go and lie down?”

Carrie sighed mentally. Now her father had a new form of moral blackmail to use against her. Reluctantly, she nodded her head and her father released her.

“Good. Off you go, then. I'll send Meg up with a hot drink for you.”

She left the office and returned to her room. She felt sorry for her father, trying to run the Inn under these extreme circumstances, but even sorrier for herself. Life on Keiss was an impossible situation for an unmarried girl of her age who was dependent on her father. Add to that the fact that she was known to be “different,” now that she was being seen as the next thing to the village witch, finding a suitable man prepared to have her would be difficult, to say the least.

Of the three or four young men interested in her, none had visited her or even inquired after her while she was still bed-ridden except for David and she wanted nothing to do with him. Who wanted to run the risk of what these good people considered “bad blood” in their family?

Not that she wanted to marry. Only the women strong enough to join the guerrillas were free from their duties of producing the colony's next generation. It was an option to consider, possibly her only one.

Carrie lounged back in the chair, heaving a sigh of genuine relief as she pulled the cigarettes out of her pocket and lit one, inhaling deeply. Thank God, her first day was over. Her class had just left, homeward bound for their afternoon chores. Once more she was her own mistress. The job, her contribution to the Resistance movement, was no sinecure. Although the class numbered only twenty, they ranged in age from five to fifteen. After that, any further education was gained by being apprenticed to one of the trades within their settlement. Academic education was, for now, a luxury on Keiss. Survival in Valleytown depended on the more basic skills of farming and animal husbandry, although some technical skills were needed. Consequently, the children spent only a few hours every day with her.

The Valtegans opposed even this, with the result that the classes were conducted in secret. Carrie's extra sense had always told her when any Valtegans had been in the vicinity of the Community Hall, so as yet she had not been discovered.

She looked idly across the hall: there was no sign that it had recently been a classroom. Officially she was running a crèche, watching the younger children with the help of the older ones, while their parents were busy in the fields. Her glance strayed to where Kusac lay basking in a pool of sunlight. His eyes flickered open and regarded her lazily for a few moments before drooping closed again.

He had surprised everyone but her, she thought, smiling to herself. From the start he had been friendly and docile and except for the odd foray about the valley, he hardly left her side. Reluctantly, her father had given in and allowed him to continue living in the house.

She sat up abruptly, sensing someone approaching. She groaned, disturbing Kusac. It would have to be David Elliot! She had tried to make it clear that she wasn't interested in him but her father would keep inviting him to call on them for dinner. Short of ordering her to accept David's advances, he had done everything in his power to encourage a match between them.

David owned the timber yards and bringing him into the family would be to their advantage. He was also wealthy enough to have several men working for him, so she would never be expected to do any of the hard manual work for which her father insisted she wasn't made.

“Racehorses aren't built like Clydesdales,” he kept telling her.

The arrival of the Valtegans, plus the two pleasure centers which had mushroomed up near Seaport and Oceanview, had disrupted the lives of many of the Terran colonists, creating a small floating population comprised mainly of younger people filled with resentment. Colonists living near the sites of the centers had been dispossessed of their land and had drifted northward, unwilling to settle down permanently again. It was these people that David and some of the others in the valley employed. The more militant youths had joined bands in the forests under the command of the Captain and the remaining crew of the
Eureka.
They harried the enemy in any way they could, making guerrilla sorties on their outposts.

The door swung open and David poked his head into the hall.

“Hello, Carrie. Thought I'd come and see if you were finished.”

“They've just left,” she replied, getting to her feet and lifting her jacket from a nearby chair.

“I'll see you back to the house, then. There's a Valtegan patrol in the town today. It's not a good idea for you to walk back alone.” He held the door open imperiously for her.

“It isn't very far, David. I can manage fine by myself,” she said, walking past him and into the corridor.

David hurriedly caught up with her and frowned at Kusac as the cat padded silently between them.

“Can't you leave that animal at home? I don't like him; he unsettles me.”

“Kusac is as free to come and go as you. If you want to see me back to the Inn, you'll have to put up with him, too,” she replied shortly, pushing the outer door open.

“Isn't it time you got rid of him? He looks perfectly fit to me. You can't have him trailing after you for the rest of his life.”

“I'm not going to get rid of Kusac to please you, David, so you had better get used to that,” Carrie said, stopping to glower at him. “If you think we look ridiculous, why do you bother being seen with us?”

“Don't be silly, Carrie,” chided David, moving round to her other side and taking her by the arm. “Besides, you're drawing attention to yourself.” He nodded vaguely in the direction of a squad of Valtegans nearby. “I don't know how you'd manage without me around to keep you from getting into scrapes.”

“I coped well enough before I met you,” she muttered, allowing herself to be led past the interested Aliens. “Kusac gives me all the protection I need. The Valtegans don't like him either.”

“That's as may be, but you know their attitude toward women, especially one as beautiful as you. Their very presence is a threat. You need to be accompanied when they are around. You are too independent at times for your own good.”

Again Carrie stopped. She was seething. He really was too much!

“Don't get me wrong,” he continued, unaware of her anger, “I value your independent streak, but sometimes you don't act in a completely rational fashion. I was going to mention it before now, but I was sure it was only a phase.” He smiled at her. “With the right kind of guidance and responsibility you'll grow out of it.”

“And you think you can do this?” she asked quietly.

“I could if you gave me a chance,” he admitted. “You've got the makings of an ideal wife, once you've settled down.”

Speechless, Carrie stared at him as if seeing him properly for the first time. His face reminded her of some animal, with its long, pointed chin and small dark eyes. A ferret, that was it! As for modesty, it was not one of his weaknesses. He was only too aware of his own worth as he saw it.

“Not for you, David,” she said finally, shaking her arm free. “You don't want a wife, you only want a pliant female to mold in your own image.”

“You're still young and want your freedom for a while longer. I appreciate that, and I'm prepared to wait for a few more months.” He reached out for her again but found Kusac standing between them.

Carrie took advantage of the opportunity and moved quietly away from him.

“Good-bye, David. I'll manage the rest of the way on my own,” she said over her shoulder.

 

“Damned animal,” David swore, aiming a kick at Kusac and just missing him. He badly wanted this alliance with Carrie's family. Her father was respected by everyone in the town and her dowry would be generous, and useful, considering the expansion he planned for the paper mill. Besides, she was not an unattractive girl.

One way or another he'd get her. Since that business of her sister's death, all the other men—far too young for her anyway—had backed off, leaving him as her only suitor. Superstitious fools that they were! Still, their stupidity was his gain.

If he went to the Town Council and pressed his suit, they'd agree to it without question since she was a couple of years past marriageable age already. In fact, maybe just dropping a hint to her father that he was prepared to do that would be enough.

A slow grin spread across his face. Why not do it now, while the idea was fresh in his mind? Peter Hamilton would be alone in his greenhouses at this time of day. He crossed over the main street to the Inn, whistling a jaunty little tune, well pleased with his strategy.

 

Carrie stormed into the kitchen, coming to rest beside the table.

“That man!” she hissed at Meg, “he gets more arrogant and overbearing every day!”

Meg looked up from the list of foodstuffs she was compiling.

“Had another row with David, then?” she asked sympathetically.

“Row? You can't argue with a man who believes he's God's gift to women!” Carrie muttered, taking her coat off and flinging it in the general direction of the pegs by the door.

“He's not a bad man, Carrie. He's got many good qualities. You could do a lot worse, you know.”

“Not you, too,” exclaimed the thoroughly exasperated girl. “You're as bad as Father. He can't wait to get me married off either.”

“No one is trying to force you to marry him. It's only that he can offer you a way of life that none of the younger men can. You aren't strong enough to work in the fields despite what you think,” admonished the older woman.

“Your father only wants to make sure you're settled with someone who will look after you properly. You've got to marry, you know. You're past the age set by the Council. If you don't choose soon, they'll choose for you.”

“There's far more to life than just marriage, and if that was what I wanted, I wouldn't choose David Elliot! I came all the way from Earth to Keiss for what? To lead a more restricted life here than I did there?” She shook her head. “No, Meg, I want more than that. If all of you don't stop going hysterical whenever I sneeze, and don't stop pushing me into a marriage I don't want, I'm going to leave here. There are other settlements, you know. I want to do something worthwhile with my life.”

“Really, Carrie,” chided Meg, getting up. “There's no need to be so melodramatic. You're beginning to sound like your sister! Marriage is a very worthwhile occupation for a woman, and you'll not find it any different in the other settlements. We lost too many people in the Crossing. We need a new generation of children now if we are to survive on Keiss.”

“Survival isn't enough. I want something for me, Meg, and I don't mean marriage and children.”

“What sort of thing did you have in mind?” Meg asked.

“I fancy working with Jack, studying the animal life. He's got some field trips planned which sound as though they might be quite interesting.”

“I don't know about the field trips,” replied Meg, going over to the stove to put on the kettle. “If I were you, I'd take one thing at a time. You were a very sickly child, always ill, and you seemed to take everything more severely than the other children.”

“You're only going on hearsay!” exclaimed Carrie. “Didn't anyone think to tell you that half my illnesses were Elise's? They didn't, did they? They only told you what they wanted you to believe. I'm tired of being told I'm a chronic invalid. I'm as healthy as anyone else in this bloody valley!”

Beside herself with rage, Carrie rushed out of the kitchen and upstairs to her own room, Kusac bounding after her.

The door firmly shut behind her, she strode over to her clothes cupboard and began hauling out a couple of changes of clothing and footwear.

 

Kusac, crouching near the door, watched her with growing apprehension. Since he had begun teaching her how to use her Talent, he had found his mind linked permanently to hers in a light rapport. Because of this, he had been aware for some time of her growing anger with the restrictions her father and the community were putting on her life. He also knew she had been working herself up to a pitch where she would leave the valley, and it looked as if that time had arrived.

This fitted in with his long-term plans. He had been prepared to risk telling her that he was her teacher but only because he needed her help. He knew he could trust her. Her family, however, was another matter. They couldn't see beyond their own problems with the Valtegans and would only hold him back at this stage of his search. Once they were free of the settlement there would be time enough for her to meet her first Sholan. If only she would wait a little longer.