Venus Rising (15 page)

“I want you to promise me something.”

“Promise?” His mouth twisted scornfully.
“Promise what, lieutenant?”

“If the fight goes against us, or if I’m
captured, I want you to kill me. I don’t want them to do to me what
Cetans do to their prisoners. Not after I’ve lain with you and
learned what love is.”

“Narisa.” His hand touched her cheek briefly.
“I promise.”

“I’ll do the same for you,” she said softly,
made hopeful by that display of tenderness.

“I’m sure you will,” he replied dryly, “and
most likely when my back is turned. Don’t worry, Narisa, I won’t
let them take you. Now I want you to listen carefully to me,
memorize everything I say, and do not deviate one iota from my
instructions.”

Near sunset the amphibious space shuttle from
the Cetan ship landed on the lake and swept smoothly up onto the
sandy beach where Narisa and Tarik had first reached the island.
Narisa watched it from her concealed position high among the thick
leaves of a tree. She was wearing her Service uniform again, and
had two force-guns, one in her hand and a spare slung over her
shoulder. As she had expected, the weapons they found in the
storerooms were heavy and old-fashioned, but she and Tarik had
practiced with them, and she was certain they would be effective.
They were set at kill force.

She studied the shuttle as it came to rest
near the tree where she crouched. It was elliptical in shape,
slightly pointed at one end, a dull dark gray in color with a red
stripe down the side. As she nervously watched, a door near the
pointed end opened and a Cetan appeared. He was tall and burly,
with long, matted yellow hair and a scraggly beard. Narisa noted
black Service boots with loose green Demarian trousers tucked into
them, a garish red belt from some unknown place in the galaxy, and
a shiny black jacket of the kind Assembly Members wore. This last
garment was patched in several places with unmatched fabric and was
left open in front to reveal a broad, hairy chest. She also saw
that the man appeared to be unarmed. He jumped awkwardly to the
ground, or perhaps he was pushed. She could not tell for
certain.

The first Cetan was followed by five others,
all as badly dressed as their companion, but these were heavily
armed with the ugly blunt weapons that were a Cetan invention. What
was more, they had their weapons pointed at the first man. Narisa
watched them, wondering what was happening. She waited, as Tarik
had instructed her to do, until the Cetans were all out of the
shuttle and away from its protection before using her
force-guns.

Someone pushed the first Cetan, sending him
sprawling onto the ground, and another kicked him hard. He doubled
up, crying out in pain. The Cetan who appeared to be the leader
kept his weapon aimed at the yellow-haired one. He had to be guilty
of some crime, Narisa decided, though what a Cetan could possibly
do to offend his fellows she could not imagine. At any rate, it
looked as though the leader was about to kill one of his own men,
making her task, and Tarik’s, that much easier.

“Chon. Chon-chon. Chon.” In a flurry of blue
and green wings a dozen birds swooped down upon the Cetans. Narisa
saw with horror just how dangerous the birds’ claws and beaks could
be as they tore at the men on the beach, preventing them from using
their weapons. Within seconds, each of the Cetans had been lifted
off his feet by two birds and was being carried far out across the
lake. Narisa could hear their despairing cries and curses growing
fainter and fainter.

A pair of remaining birds circled the beach a
few times, then flew off after their comrades, but not before
Narisa had recognized them. The blue one had an old scratch across
its beak, and she was certain the green one was the same bird who
had given her the fruit.

The birds had carried away only five Cetans.
In the confusion of that brief encounter she had seen the
yellow-haired Cetan scrambling about on his hands and knees. Now he
had disappeared.

When the birds had gone, Narisa clung to the
sturdy tree trunk, shaking with relief. She had not wanted to kill
another living being. She had thought her hatred of Cetans would
overcome her scruples, but it had not, and she was deeply grateful
to the birds for having relieved her of the need to do something so
abhorrent.

Recalling that there was still work to be
done, she slid down from her tree and ran toward the shuttle. Tarik
had warned her there might be other crewmen left inside it as
reinforcements or guards, so she eyed the entrance cautiously as
she approached it. Tarik was there before her, racing across the
sand from his own hiding place. He pulled the sliding door all the
way back, thrusting his head and shoulders through the entrance,
weapon poised and ready in his hand. He backed out quickly.

“No one is in there,” he said.

“Did you call the birds?” Narisa asked.

“No. I thought you might have done it.”

“We were both thinking about the battle to
come. Perhaps,” Narisa speculated, “they sensed what would happen
and they came to help us. They might retain some memory of what the
Cetans did long ago on this planet. I wonder what they will do with
those five men. And why would they leave one man behind?”

“I don’t care what they’ve done with the ones
they took away. We can discuss possibilities later,” Tarik said
shortly. “Right now, we are the ones who need to find the sixth
Cetan.”

“He was unarmed,” Narisa reminded him. “They
pushed him out of the shuttle before the others so that he would
take the first shots if someone began firing at them right
away.”

“It might have been some kind of trick.”
Tarik was searching among the trees with sharp eyes. “I want him
alive, Narisa. He will have information about the ship that we can
use.”

She nodded absently, her own attention on the
sand, looking for the Cetan’s tracks. She touched Tarik’s arm and
pointed. “He left the beach there. He must have been crawling.
Perhaps they hurt him badly when they kicked him.”

“That would be our good fortune. Hurt and
unarmed he can’t fight. I just hope he’s able to talk and
understand us.”

It was not hard to track the Cetan through
crushed weeds and broken small bushes, evidence that he had tried
to walk and had fallen several times. They found him by the stone
wall that surrounded · the central clearing. He huddled on his side
against the wall, clutching at his abdomen and moaning softly.
Narisa trained her force-gun on him while Tarik made a hasty search
for concealed weapons. The Cetan offered no resistance. He cried
out when Tarik rolled him over, but it was clear he was trying to
muffle the sound.

“Don’t want them to hear,” he ground out
between clenched teeth. The Cetan accent was thick, but he spoke in
the standard patois of all spacemen. Narisa had no trouble
understanding him, nor did Tarik.

“You needn’t worry about your friends. They
have been disposed of most efficiently. I doubt we will ever see
any of them again.” Tarik produced a length of cord. “Sit up,
Cetan, and put your hands behind your back.”

“I am not certain I can,” the Cetan said.
“The pain is great.”

“You’ll have more pain if you don’t do what I
say,” Tarik told him. “That’s an old-fashioned force-gun my
lieutenant is holding. I’m sure you know what such a weapon can do.
If you don’t obey me, she will start at your toes and work her way
upward slowly.”

The Cetan struggled to sit, his face white
above the tangled yellow beard. When he tried to put both arms
behind himself, he blanched even more.

“He really is hurt,” Narisa said.

“All the better,” Tarik responded. “He’ll be
more likely to do what we want.”

When the Cetan’s hands were tightly bound
behind his back, Tarik ordered him to stand. He tried. He got to
one knee, but wavered, trying to get his other leg under himself,
and Tarik had to help him. Once he was on his feet, Tarik led him
through a break in the wall and toward the building in the center
of the clearing. Narisa stayed close behind them, her force-gun
pointed squarely at the Cetan’s back.

“What…strange place … is this?” The heavily
accented words were spoken carefully, and Narisa heard the effort
it cost him.

“Never mind,” Tarik snapped. But he did offer
a hand to help the Cetan up the three shallow steps and into the
building. They took him to the central room.

“How beautiful,” the Cetan said, looking
around. “How peaceful.”

“What do Cetans know of beauty and peace?”
Narisa asked harshly. “They only know how to destroy both.”

“My mother …my mother was…” The Cetan crashed
to the floor and lay there, face up, unconscious, with his muscular
legs sprawled wide and his arms twisted behind him.

“Is he dead?” Narisa asked, and found to her
surprise that she hoped he was not. As much as she hated Cetans,
she was curious about this one. She wondered why his companions had
intended to kill him, and what he had meant to say about his
mother.

“He’s still breathing.” Tarik squatted beside
the Cetan and gently poked at his abdomen. A low moan came through
parted lips. “He may be badly hurt. We need him conscious and able
to speak.”

“There is medical information stored in the
computer,” Narisa said, thinking quickly. “Let me see what I can
find.” When he moved between her and the computer, she looked him
straight in the eye.

“I will not use the communicator,” she said,
fighting to keep her voice level. “There will be no more
unauthorized messages sent from here. It would be the height of
insanity to try it with a Cetan ship orbiting the planet.”

Tarik nodded and stepped aside, letting her
reach the computer. Her search took a remarkably short time.

“We should use the juice from the same fruit
the birds gave us for you,” she announced. “There are other
remedies for non-humans, but the Cetans are human like us, and for
unspecified internal injuries, that juice is the only medicine
available on the planet.”

“Would the birds bring it to us to cure a
Cetan?” Tarik wondered.

“We won’t need the birds.” Narisa brought up
another screen. “There is a small supply of the juice in the second
storeroom, third cabinet on the left, second shelf from the
top.”

“After all this time will it still be potent
enough to do any good?”

Tarik came to stand behind her. She was still
feeling somewhat shaky after the strange battle on the beach. She
wanted to lean back against him and feel his strong arms around
her. She believed if she did lean back, he would reject her. They
were working well together to carry out his plan, but he had not
forgiven her for what she had done. Perhaps he never would. She
decided she should concentrate on their immediate problem and deal
with Tarik later. She ran a second check on the Cetan’s apparent
injuries with Tarik watching over her shoulder.

“There is nothing else we could possibly use
on him,” she said.

“I’ll get it.” He headed for the
storeroom.

The Cetan was conscious again. He had golden
eyes, and they looked at Narisa imploringly.

“My arms ache,” he said. “I cannot roll to my
side.”

He did look very uncomfortable on his back
with both arms behind him. Narisa pulled a pillow off the couch and
stuffed it under his head and shoulders.

“I thank you.” He tried to smile at her. The
effort turned into a grimace of pain. “You are kind.”

“Kinder than you deserve, considering what
you and your friends have done to so many planets. Like Belta. You
showed no kindness, nor any mercy, there.”

“I have never been to Belta,” the Cetan
said.

“Is he awake? Good.” Tarik was back with a
small glass vial in one hand. “This, Cetan, is medicine, the only
thing we have that could cure your injuries. I will hold it to your
mouth and you will swallow it.”

“Why do you want to cure me?” The man on the
floor seemed to have regained some strength. “Is it so you may then
torture me longer before I die? I will not swallow your medicine so
you can make sport of me.”

“We don’t torture people,” Narisa said
angrily. “We aren’t Cetans.”

“You are from the Jurisdiction. I know your
uniforms. There is little difference between us.” The Cetan tried
to move his arms. He winced from the pain the effort created. “If I
tell you something important, will you unbind my arms and let me
die in fair combat? I will fight you with no weapons at all.”

“I won’t fight a wounded man.” Tarik regarded
his prisoner with interest. “I will make a bargain with you,
however. I will give you this medicine, and in return, you will
tell me the ‘something important.’ “

“And then you will torture me.”

“No, then you will help me with my plan,”
Tarik said, his voice soft as he watched the man’s reactions. “What
is your name?”

“Gaidar.”

“Well, then, Gaidar, this medicine will make
you sleep while it works, so before you take it you will tell me
how soon the men on the shuttle were to contact your parent ship up
there in orbit.”

“One hour after landing,” the Cetan replied
promptly.

“One hour? Do you use Jurisdiction time?”

“It is simpler to do so. Easier to track and
destroy Jurisdiction ships.” Gaidar paused, breathing deeply as if
to gather all his strength. ``I will help you. I have no cause for
loyalty to them. They would have killed me for a very stupid
reason.”

“What reason?” Narisa asked.

“I suggested we not kill whoever we found on
this planet. I am tired of killing. I wanted to hold you for
ransom. I thought it would be profitable.”

“And for that they were going to kill
you?”

“They do not like new ideas, except for new
weapons. They are confirmed in all their old hatreds against the
Races of the Jurisdiction. They want to continue killing and
destroying. It gives them pleasure.”