Part 7 (2/2)
Nitpicker nodded absently; her attention was on the guide. She did not try to speak until Wren had cranked the door shut after Kurvan and Tucker stepped out into the storm. By then, Tsia was near-dancing with impatience.
”Nitpicker,” Tsia urged. ”There's not much time to decide-”
”Before the weedis is torn apart,” the other woman cut in. ”I understand that.” She regarded Tsia soberly. ”How will you hide this from the guide guild? This isn't a standard use of your gate, and interfering with the cats, even for the Landing Pact, will raise questions.”
”I know.”
”The combination of a feline and a guide will be obvious to any sensor sweep that's still active. You go after that cub, and your guide gate will be pegged to the felines.”
”I know,” Tsia repeated.
”It just takes one question, Feather,” Nitpicker said sharply. ”One question about that feline biological- to start a trace along your ID dot.”
A trace to her name. To the past she had hidden behind her. She could hear the words as if Nitpicker had said them aloud. ”I set webs to protect my mere ID-”
”Any web can be broken if it is tested long enough. You know that.”
”What about the mere guild?” Her hands rubbed unconsciously at her wrists. ”They've promised me protection. Everything I've done for the last decade has been because of that promise.”
Wren cleared his throat. ”The meres can protect your link as long as it's not challenged beyond the time you joined the guild. There are always traces left in the node by a temple link. You know you can't hide every image-every trace of yourself for your entire life. The only way to get a completely secure link- a completely clean ID-is to make a deal with the s.h.i.+elds.”
She stared at him. ”I can't do that. The risk...”
Wren shrugged. ”Every time you use a laze, you run the risk of fire from the beam. Every time you set a grazing limit as a guide, you run the risk of misjudging the land so that it's damaged beyond repair. You could burn a cedar stand, and be wiped for that as easily as for being the guide who broke the Landing Pact. Everything you do is a risk. Everything affects a life somewhere.”
Tsia's eyes grew hard. ”And everything I don't do can be just as important. I know I'm on contract, and that if I help the cougar, you could say that I broke that contract with you. But if I don't help the cougar- especially since I've got a link with the cats-I break the Landing Pact. Which one do you prefer I do?”
Nitpicker cursed under her breath. ”You know I hate animals.”
”I know.”
”I'd rather carry a cargo of digger dung-hand-loaded- than some kind of beast in my s.h.i.+p.”
”I know,” Tsia said more sharply.
”Why can't you just put him back on the next island that comes along?”
”We could be here for hours before a thick one floated close enough to the platform.”
”G.o.ddam guides,” the pilot muttered. ”You've been running ghosts in the node for a long time, Feather, but you aren't as good as Kurvan. You want him to help set the webs to hide this if the node goes backup?” Tsia shook her head almost before Nitpicker stopped speaking. ”Then,” the pilot said curtly, ”make sure your own traces are G.o.ddam tight.”
The door burst open, and Bowdie staggered in from the wind. His blunter sprayed water, and the straps of his mottled harness shed water like sealskin. Nitpicker barely glanced at him as he cranked the portal shut. ”So let's say you get the cub to the deck,” she continued. ”Where do you propose I land on the mainland-if you ever get the cub in my s.h.i.+p?”
”The beach. It can find its mother from there.”
Nitpicker stared at her, then laughed-a short, sharp sound. Bowdie frowned, and stomped his feet to shake the last water from his boots. ”You talking about the beach between Iron Bottom Slough and Bashevnel Bay?” he asked.
The cat feet dug into Tsia's mind, and the skin around her eyes tightened. ”You landed on this platform. Even with the winds, the beach at least is flat and clear.”
”And surrounded by solid rock and barely thirty meters wide.”
”The flight deck here is thirty meters wide.”
Bowdie ran his long fingers through his hair so that a single brown lock fell across his eyebrow. ”The gale is now storm-force and growing. It's a hundred and fifty kays per hour out there.”
Nitpicker nodded. ”I'm flattered by your confidence, Feather, but even I'm not the kind of pilot you need. Kissing this platform as I did in a s.h.i.+p as tiny as ours-that was a stunt. Kissing a strip of sand right beside a cliff with the up-drafts and eddies, the shear from the front, and the surf smas.h.i.+ng us if we miss...” She shook her head. ”Give it up, Feather. It's not to be.” She added quietly, ”And it's safer that way for you.”
Tsia's eyes flicked warningly toward Bowdie. He said nothing, but she could see him filing Nitpicker's comment away for thought. ”What about landing farther in-a kay or two?” she asked flatly.
”At the Hollows? If the cub can stay calm that long. The freepick stake is forty kays inland-across the first row of hills.”
”No, no. Forty kays is too far.” Tsia started to pace the room. ”It would have to cross dozens of established territories-of other cats, grown cats-to get back to its mother. It would never make it.”
Bowdie looked at her curiously. ”Even if you do help this cub, how are you going to keep it from going crazy in the s.h.i.+p, surrounded by humans? It might be engineered to bond with a guide, but it's still a wild animal. It's not going to like being caged up with eight of us clumsy humans.”
Wren jammed his gear back in his pack. ”And unlike you, we,” he stressed, ”don't have the protection of a biogate.”
The door whipped open again, and Tucker staggered in. He caught the crank as he entered and slammed the door shut quickly. ”Finished checking the systems,” he said before the wind whistles rose and died. ”We're ready for the rest of the gear.”
Nitpicker nodded briefly, but her eyes never left Tsia's face. ”You think a cub isn't big enough to shred us like paper if it gets scared?” she went on. ”You know our weapons don't work against biologicals- not without a specially licensed biocbip, which is illegal outside of the s.h.i.+elds. And with the node down, there's no way to get a vetdarter to take care of the cub for us.” She eyed Tsia for a long moment. ”Ah, h.e.l.l.” She glared around the small room. ”Tucker, Bowdie, you want to look good for the Landing Pact? Help Feather catch this thing?”
Tsia shook her head. ”I'll catch it,” she a.s.serted. ”I need help only in getting down to the weedis, and then in getting back up.”
Tucker c.o.c.ked his head. ”I grew up on the Keys,” he offered. ”I've walked more floating islands than you've ever seen, and swum the distances between them.”
”Sea weedis are different from swamp islands,” Tsia returned tersely. ”You have to have a feel for them, or you could end up dragged down by the jellies and drowned in the tangle and chop.”
”So what? We've got nose-breathers.”
”And an enbee is made for gaseous atmospheres, not for underwater jobs.”
”They work fine in emergencies.”
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