Part 40 (1/2)

”Where do you want to land?”

He indicated a spot about fifty meters outside the wall of trees. ”Give ourselves a little distance,” he said.

I started down.

Word was spreading. Heads popped out of the huts. People were pointing at us. I thought I saw arguments breaking out.

The villagers wore makes.h.i.+ft s.h.i.+rts and trousers. No hats were in evidence. Belle reported the temperature at a midsummer level. A group of children playing in a small field were being rounded up by two or three women, who herded them back to the center of the village and shooed them into the huts.

Then we slipped down out of the sky and settled onto the gra.s.s.

A half dozen villagers were coming hesitantly toward us. ”I don't see any weapons,” I said.

”Good.” He opened the inner hatch. ”If anything happens, clear out.”

I put my scrambler in my belt.

He frowned. ”You stay here, Chase.”

”I'm not going to let you go out there by yourself.” Actually, I wasn't anxious to go outside, but I saw no alternative.

”I'm telling you to stay. How many times are we going to have this argument?”

”I'm the captain, Alex. You can't tell me to do anything. Now let's go.”

He started to say something, did did say something, but it was under his breath, and I couldn't make it out. say something, but it was under his breath, and I couldn't make it out.

”We should have a gift for them,” I said.

Alex looked around. ”Okay. You have a suggestion?”

”Hold on a second.” I looked through the storage locker. Picked out a t.i.tanium lamp. ”How about this?”

”How long will it run?”

”I suspect the lifetime of anybody here.”

”Okay. Good.” He took it from me, and we walked into the airlock. I opened the outer hatch.

”Chase,” said Belle, said Belle, ”they're starting to back away.” ”they're starting to back away.”

”That doesn't surprise me,” I said. ”They don't really know who we are.”

”Anything happens,” Alex said, ”anything, get back here and clear out. You understand?” I nodded or something, and he wasn't happy. ”I mean it.”

”Okay, boss.”

We were in the middle of a field. And the people were indeed backing up. Into the trees. Some kids showed up and were quickly hustled out of sight. ”Not a good sign,” Alex said.

I squeezed past him to get a better look. ”What do you want to do?”

”Wait. Let them come to us. We don't want to do anything that could be interpreted as a threat.”

We stood in the open hatch and waited. They stirred and whispered to one another, and some even came forward a bit, but n.o.body actually got clear of the woods. I said how they didn't look threatening and suggested that Alex stay put while I walked over and said h.e.l.lo. ”I mean,” I said, ”they're fishermen fishermen.”

He told me to stay where I was, and, in almost the same breath, added, ”Something's happening now.”

An old man in a white robe advanced to the edge of the trees and stopped to study us. He had a black beard streaked with gray. It had a wild appearance, as if a strong wind had been at it. He carried a staff with something fixed to the top. A piece of wood, I thought, carved into a letter ”X,” with a circle enclosing all but the top quarter. He planted the staff in the ground but had to push it down because it started to fall over every time he let go of it. He was a comical figure despite the beard. In other circ.u.mstances, it would have been hard not to laugh.

Finally, it stuck in the soil. He raised his right hand, palm facing us, and spoke. The words were indistinguishable, and had a singsong rhythm that seemed about about us rather than directed us rather than directed to to us. us.

Alex raised his hand to return what seemed to be a greeting and stepped out onto the top rung of the ladder. The crowd reacted by backing away even farther. Except the old man, whose only response was to raise the volume of the singsong message he was reciting.

Alex climbed down the ladder. I let him get to the ground. I had put a foot on the top rung when Alex shouted, ”Get back!” Something popped in the trees. ”They've got guns,” he said. He threw himself under the hull.

”Get clear, Alex,” I said.

”I'm clear.”

More gunfire. A bullet ricocheted off the hatch. I pulled back away from it. ”Belle. Retract the treads.”

”Chase, Alex is under-”

”Do it. Now!” Retracting the treads meant of course that she was lowering the lander. Giving Alex some cover. ”Alex, you okay?”

”So far.”

”Make sure you're out from under.”

”Yes, Mother.”

”Quick, Belle.”

The hull came down fast. There was a jar as we hit the ground. I remember thinking how I'd just gotten finished repairing the treads, which were probably wrecked again.

”Treads withdrawn,” said Belle. said Belle. ”Moderate damage to the compartment doors.” ”Moderate damage to the compartment doors.”

They kept shooting. And it wouldn't take long before the people in the trees circled around behind the s.h.i.+eld that the lander was providing and picked Alex off. The blaster was stashed in one of the storage cabinets, but it tends to kill everybody in sight. It doesn't discriminate real well, and I'd seen too many people out there who just seemed to be standing around. Not to mention some kids. I checked the setting on my scrambler, leaned out, and fired. The energy beam crackled and people screamed and ran. Some of the screams were cut short as the targets' nervous systems shut down.

”Got to get you out of there, Alex.”

”I was thinking the same thing.” I heard the sound of his scrambler firing. I heard the sound of his scrambler firing.

The old man raised the rod and held it in our direction, as if it would act as a s.h.i.+eld against Alex's weapon.

I used the scrambler against him, and he froze and fell over. ”Alex,” I said. ”Hit the ground. Stay where you are. I'm going to turn the s.h.i.+p around.”

”Do it.”

The firing intensified. Bullets rattled against the hull.