Part 42 (1/2)
”First of all, they'll check their source files to see if there's any mention of the bacterium,” Bringan enumerated, ticking off his fingers. ”That alone should make it hot for the people who sold them the information and forgot to mention a potentially fatal air-borne parasite here. Second, they'll try to get a sample of the bacterium. I think we'll see an unmanned probe scooping the air, looking for samples to a.n.a.lyse.”
”Third, they might try to put a volunteer crew down to test the effects of living beings,” Elessa offered, bleakly. ”A distinct possibility,” Flor said. ”I'll just rig a repeater signal to broadcast the Interdict warning over and over again on their frequency. Might make them just a teensy bit more nervous.”
Her fingers flew over her console, and then clicked on a b.u.t.ton at the far left side. ”There. It'll be loud, too.”
Lunzie grinned. She was becoming more impressed with the imagination and ingenuity of this EEC Team. ”I can't imagine that 'volunteers' will be thick in the corridors. But they will figure out all too soon that there isn't anything. Shouldn't we grab some rest while we can?”
”Well, I can't,” Bringan said. ”When they don't find what they're expecting, they'll ask us to identify it, so I better design an organism. Vir, you're a good hack, you can help me.”
”I'll help, too,” Elessa volunteered. ”I wouldn't be able to rest with those vultures circling, just waiting to land on top of us.”
”I'll authorise sedatives to anyone who doesn't think he or she can sleep,” Lunzie offered, with a look toward Zebara for permission. The captain nodded.
Those who weren't involved in designing the pseudobacteria scattered to their sleeping cubicles and left the others wrangling over mouse-controlled Tri-D graphics program.
Lunzie lay down on her bunk and initiated Discipline technique to soothe herself to sleep. She got a restful few hours before tension roused her. There had been bets as to when another transmission from the pirate vessel would arrive.
After a twenty-four-hour respite, tempers began to fray. The design team had an argument, ending with Elessa storming out of the scout to sit in tears behind a tree, agitatedly soothing her pet kittisnake.
Wendell took a nap, but he was so tense when he awoke that he asked Lunzie for a sedative. ”I can't just sit around and wait,” the pilot begged, twisting his hands together, ”but if there's any chance of us lifting, I also can't be frazzled or fuzzy-minded.”
Lunzie gave him a large dose of a mild relaxant, and left him with a complicated construction puzzle to keep his hands busy. Most of the others bore with the tension more stoically. Zebara alternated between popping mineral tablets and drumming on a table with an air of distraction and running the s.h.i.+ps' profiles through the computer records. He badgered Flor with frequent updates on the Zaid-Dayan's Zaid-Dayan's ETA. ETA.
The outer two heavyworlders paced the common area for all the world like caged exotics; then Dondara irritably excused himself. He left the s.h.i.+p and headed downslope in the sled.
”Where's he going?” Lunzie asked.
”To break rocks,” Pollili explained, turning her palms to the sky. ”He'll come back when he can hold the frustration in check.”
Dondara had been gone for nearly two hours when Flor appeared at the door of the common area. Zebara raised his head. ”Well?”
She grimaced. ”They've launched an unmanned probe. It's doing the usual loops.” Then she really grinned. ”I got good news, though.” Everyone in the room snapped to. ”I just stripped the beacon of a reply from the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan. They say to hold tight. They ought to be here within three hours.”
Ragged cheers rose from the crew when suddenly a low-pitched beeping came from the forward section.
”Uh-oh,” Flor said. 'The upstairs neighbours ahead of schedule!” She turned and run forward, followed by the rest of the crew. The filtered voice came through the audio monitors.
”Diplomat Arabesk. I wish to speak with Diplomat Arabesk.” Zebara reached for the silver-collared tunic but Lunzie grabbed his sleeve.
”You can't talk to them, Zebara, you're dead. Remember! Heavyworlders are more susceptible. The bacterial plague has claimed another victim. Pollili, you talk to them.”
”Me?' squeaked the telemetry officer. ”I can't talk to people like them. They won't believe me.”
FIor was wringing her hands with nervousness. ”Someone's got to speak to them. Soon. Please.”
Lunzie hauled Pollili by the hand into the communications booth. ”Poll, this can save all our lives. Will you trust me?”
The heavyworlder female looked at her beseechingly. ”What are you doing to do?”
”I'm going to convince you that what you are about to say is one hundred percent the truth.” Lunzie leaned forward and put a comforting hand, the one in the cast, on the other's arm. ”Trust me?”
Pollili shot a desperate look at the beeping console. ”Yes.”
”Good. Zebara, will you clear everyone else out for a moment?”
Puzzled, the captain complied. ”But I'm staying,” he announced when everyone had left.
”As you wish.” Lunzie resigned herself to his presence. ”Flor can't hear us, can she?”
Zebara glanced at the set of indicator lights above the thick quartz gla.s.s panel. ”No.”
”All right. Poll, look at me.” Lunzie stared into the heavyworlder's eyes and called upon the Discipline techniques she had learned on Tau Ceti. Keeping the small hypospray out of Flor's line of sight, she showed it to Pollili. ”Just something to help you relax. I promise you it's not harmful.” Pollili nodded uneasily. Lunzie pressed the head of the hypospray against the big woman's forearm. Pollili sagged back, her eyes heavy and gla.s.sy. Flor stared curiously from the other side of the panel and reached for a control. Zebara forestalled her with a gesture and she sat back in her chair, watching.
Lunzie kept her voice low and gentle. ”Relax. Concentrate. You are Quinada, servant and aide to lenois of the Parchandri Merchant Families. You landed here with a crew of twenty-five. Eight have already died of the bacterial plague, all heavyworlders. Arabesk, the Governor's personal representative, has just succ.u.mbed. Nine lightweights, the oldest and weakest ones, are also dead and the clone-types are showing at least the first symptoms of infection. You have a pernicious, deep-lung cough which strikes whenever you get excited. The bacteria is found only within thirty feet of the ground.” Lunzie turned to Zebara. ”That's too low for a probe to fly safely. With topographical variances, it's more likely to crash into a tree or a rock outcropping.” Zebara nodded approval.
Lunzie turned back to programming Pollili. ”The bacteria multiplies in direct relation to warmer temperatures. It's 22 degrees Celsius here right now. Optimum breeding time. You, Quinada, have connections with the faction in the Tau Ceti sector. You are something of a bully so you are not easily cowed by the inferior dogsbodies of any pirate vessel.” Now Lunzie signalled to Flor to open the channel to the communications booth. ”Remember, your name is Quinada, and you don't take guff from anyone, especially the weakling lightweights. You respect only your master, and he is one of those who is ill. You know and trust those of us here in the s.h.i.+p. We are your friends and business a.s.sociates. When you hear your real name again, you will regain your original memories. I will touch you now and you will reply as circ.u.mstances require.”
”We seek Diplomat Arabesk,” the tinny voice said again. Pollili roused the instant Lunzie touched her arm. The medic leaned out of range of the video pickup and crept from her side.
”Arabesk is dead. Who is this?”
”Who speaks?” the voice demanded, surprised.
”Quinada!” Pollili said with great authority and some annoyance.
”Who is this Quinada?” Zebara asked in a low voice as Pollili's expression a.s.sumed a suitably Quinadian scowl.
”Just who I said she is,” Lunzie whispered, crossing her fingers as she watched the heavyworlder female lean forward, prepared to dominate. ”She works for a merchant who knew about Ambrosia more than two weeks before I left Tau Ceti for the ARCT-10 ARCT-10. I must now a.s.sume that lenois has direct lines with pirates from here, the ARCT-10 ARCT-10 and Alpha Centauri. Since he's got such a wide family, I'd be willing to bet someone of his kin were involved in setting up the Phoenix double-deal.” and Alpha Centauri. Since he's got such a wide family, I'd be willing to bet someone of his kin were involved in setting up the Phoenix double-deal.”
”This Quinada must have made quite an impression on you,” Zebara replied wryly. ”However did you impose her on Poll?”
”A Discipline technique.”
”Not one of which I've ever heard. You must be an Adept. Oh, don't worry,” Zebara a.s.sured her as she began to protest. ”I can keep secrets. More than one, if your information on this merchant is true.”
”Do I have to repeat everything to you denseheads? I am Quinada,” Pollili said, scowling and pulling her brows together in an excellent imitation of her model. ”Servant to lenois, senior Administrator in the eminent Parchandri Merchant Families. Who are you to challenge me?” There was a long pause during which the audio was cut off.
”We know of your master and we know your name,” the voice announced at last, ”though not your face. What are you doing on this planet?”
”My master's affairs. My last duty to him,” Pollili answered crisply. ”No more of that. Arabesk is dead and I speak for those still alive.”
”Where is your master?”
”The lung-rotting cough took him yesterday. The puny lightweight stock from which he springs will probably see the end of him before the week is over.” Pollili delivered the last with an air of disgust overlaying her evident grief. Lunzie nodded approvingly from her corner. Pollili's own psyche was adding to the pattern Lunzie had impressed on her mind. Fortunately, there weren't the same dangerous leanings in Pollili's makeup that repulsed Lunzie in the original Quinada but the telemetry officer sounded most convincing.
”Quinada” confidently answered the rapid-fire questions that the voice shot to her. To consolidate her position, ”Quinada” put up on the screen the genetic detailing of the bacterium which Bringan and the others had created. She explained what she understood of it. As Pollili, she knew a good deal about bacteria but the Quinada overlay wouldn't comprehend that much bioscience.
With her headset clasped to one ear, Flor gestured frantically for Zebara to join her in the soundproof control station. ”Sir, I'm receiving live transmission from the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan. They're approaching from behind the sun after making a triple jump! Those must be some fancy new engines. They'll be here within minutes!”