Only Human Page 4

  Could one die of boredom? On the other side of these walls was only darkness. No moonlight ever revealed the shapes of the trees she knew to be there as there were no moons over Magra. This was her third night of passive surveillance while Major Tychon was doing things never fully explained. She knew that he had made contact with possible rebels but he seemed uneager to let her join the operation.

  Whatever he was doing, it seemed to be more demanding than her lonely boredom. She was able to sleep when necessary, trusting the ship's sensors. He, however, battled fatigue in coping with the short nights here, returning in the gray dawns to drop onto the lounger in the main cabin, not bothering to find sleep in his own bunk. Nova passed her time in long games of strategy with the computer, tiptoeing around the Major until she realized that he did not wake easily. He slept motionless, rarely turning or shifting in his eerie, silent rest. Delphi's peaceful evolution had not taught its creatures to remain alert even while in repose. Eventually, she adjusted her own sleeping habits to his. His taciturn presence when awake was still far more interesting than the games his computer offered.

  The Delphian spent several hours each day in showing her his store of maps and tapes to help her understand the nature of their work. Much of it was dry material, geography and environment of places they were to visit and also the laws, dialects and politics of sentients found there. But he was an interesting teacher possessed of great patience. She found that she enjoyed her studies until it was time for him to leave the ship again.

  And so her last few days had been spent. Reading, staring at screens, reports, chores aboard the ship. Tychon was quite obviously trying to keep her occupied.

  The Eagle’s alarm system startled her out of her mood on the fourth day. A life form other than Tychon and his contacts appeared on the screen, man-size and moving stealthily toward the ship. She reached for her gun and carefully opened the pilot hatch to investigate. Once on the ground, she crouched by the landing structure, her gun aimed at the edge of the clearing. She saw nothing until her eyes adjusted to the little light shed by the stars above.

  A shadow slipped from the far edge of the clearing and moved noiselessly toward her, neither humanoid nor any other sentient she recognized. Nova swung onto the wing of the plane and reached through the pilot hatch to engage the parking lights. The intruder was a Class Three resident who, after a fierce display of fangs and claws, moved on to easier prey. Nova laughed silently and extinguished the lights.

  She was loath to return to the confines of the ship. What could Tychon possibly be up to on this outpost planet? Perhaps he came to gamble and carouse the night away. Nova stifled a snicker at the thought of the Major in a carousing mood. After some hesitation, she holstered a second sidearm and walked into the direction of Tychon's rendezvous. The seeker on her wrist array, along with that of the ship's system, showed her the way in nearly absolute darkness.

  She followed its sensors through a stand of massive trees, so straight-boled that they seemed like a forest of stone columns holding up some vast canopy in the sky. Nothing but strangely luminescent mushrooms grew around their feet.

  Eventually, Nova emerged into a meadow where she found a low building constructed of a combination of wood and plastics common to areas where off-worlders put up temporary shelters. A dim light shone above the door, allowing her to see a few battered ground vehicles and a skimmer nearby.

  She crouched close to the hovel and ducked past filthy windows until she heard voices. She watched from the cover of the undergrowth, resolving to spy for just a few minutes and then return to the Eagle.

  The Major sat with a few others in a dim room that was no more presumptuous than the outside of the building. Currency of various denominations was scattered on a table that seemed barely sturdy enough to support its own weight, let alone the elbows of those seated around it. Tychon fit well into this group. His hair was disheveled, the loose clothing dust-covered and ill used. Nova saw that all weapons had been placed on a stool near the only door into the room. The motley group spoke in low tones, their language foreign to her. One of them laughed in a high-pitched whistle and clapped Tychon’s shoulder.

  Nova nearly missed the sound of more voices behind her. More by reflex than calculation, she dove deeper into the bushes.

  Three figures walked past her. One of them turned briefly in the doorway, suspiciously peering into the night. Rhuwac! Small eyes within leathery folds of skin seemed to bore into her and he sniffed the air, perhaps sensing the enemy that she represented. She knew that this creature's sense of smell was his keenest. Would he recognize something foreign here? Nova's hand tightened on her gun. There were no Class One Rhuwacs that did not belong to Tharron's army of foot soldiers. If this one discovered her, she would not die quickly.

  The Rhuwac squinted myopically into the gloom, sniffed again, and then sneezed. It was an insignificant huffing sound, like that of a small mammal. He scratched something under his tattered coat and ducked into the building. Nova offered a brief prayer of thanks to whatever had induced the Rhuwac's allergy. She returned to the window in time to see the newcomers enter the room.

  The initial greetings were sharply interrupted when one of the strangers spat a cat-like hiss and pointed at the blue-haired member of the group. He snarled something and pulled a weapon from beneath his vest.

  Nova rose out of the shrubbery and smashed the window with the butt of her gun. The sharp beam of her weapon sliced across the room to pass between the still-seated confederates to find its target.

  Tychon was the first to break out of the motionless second of surprise that followed. He swung his arm to propel one of the rebels across the room to fall over the smoldering body near the door. A projectile tore into the wooden wall by his head. He turned and dove through the broken window, landing hard beside Nova. The look on his face when he saw her was almost comical.

  She passed him her gun and drew another from her belt. They chased through the dark without stopping to return their pursuers' fire. Suddenly, ahead of Nova, Tychon stumbled and pitched to the ground. She turned to fire into the blackness behind them, holding the rebels back until Tychon regained his feet. He adjusted his gun to serve as a torch and moved forward again, more slowly than before. To Nova, it seemed an eternity before they reached the Eagle and he heaved himself up and into the ship. More of the solid projectiles ricocheted off the hull and she barely ducked a laser beam slicing the air just above her head.

  Once inside the Eagle, Tychon took the controls and launched into an unbalanced vertical take-off that threw Nova off her feet. She grasped the fixed legs of the map table and hung on until he stabilized the ship. His movements were quick, impatient, but he took the time to complete all pre-acceleration checks before leaving Magra's atmosphere.

  "You think we'll be followed?" Nova said as she picked herself up again, spoiling for a fight, perhaps a chase.

  "No, they don’t have a decent plane among them. There is a charted jumpsite at E 26 399 6 that reaches to Feyd. Set course for that. I've already programmed the receiver."

  Disappointed, Nova took the helm from him. His taut expression cautioned against argument. She watched him move to the communications console and signal a request for contact. After some delay he received a faint reply without video, indicating that a relay station was ready to receive his transmission.

  "Targon, Vanguard Eagle Seven for Colonel Carras. Tight band.” He paused a moment while the message priority was changed and scrambled. "Nebdan grain vessel Begiad BT3222 is heading for Magra carrying arms. Bound to show up at Aram Gate any moment and jump from there. I would file a proper report but I thought that you might want to intercept. No one important on board. I had hoped to get a location on Tharron today but his underlings remembered me from some past affair." He felt beneath his shirt and swore when he saw blood on his hand. His clothes were torn in several places, likely from his flight through the broken window. “Sorry, that wasn’t directed at you, Tal. I’m sure your pa
rentage is impeccable. I have some good news, too. I think we’ve got a bead on Anders. I’ll report later. V7 out.” Tychon shipped the message to the relay at the nearest jumpsite, from there to be transferred into Targon space.

  Nova made the final adjustments to their course and hurried to find the ship’s medi-kit. “Don’t pull your shirt over your head. You got glass stuck in there.”

  He raised his hands while she carefully cut what was left of the rough-spun fabric and let it fall to the floor along with a shower of splinters.

  “When did they hit you?" she asked, watching him drop heavily onto the lounger."Move your hand. Don't bleed on that." He stretched out and lifted his arm out of the way. A ragged wound oozed dark blood just below his ribs. Nova was glad to see that the projectile had only grazed him. "Your friends are living in the dark ages. I haven't seen a bullet wound in years."

  "What is darkages?" He ground his teeth when she slipped a painkiller under his skin and used a fine beam of light to clean and cauterize the tear. "I think it happened when I was down. Could not see a damn thing." He did not watch her staple the wound. "I didn't see Field Medic on your record."

  She shrugged. "I only have Basic. The rest I had to pick up during six months on Bellac. I learned fast."

  "I heard about that. Civilian casualties by the hundreds. It must have been terrible."

  Nova shrugged and kept her eyes on her work. "There. Like the day you were born," she declared. "Sort of. Lean toward me." She checked a few cuts on his shoulders and back and removed a splinter or two. When she pushed his hair out of the way she saw the thin line of blue strands that grew along his spine. Carefully, she used her nails to extract a few shards.

  “Captain, I think I should tell you that, as is the custom among my people, you are currently engaged in a sexual act."

  Nova jerked her hand back. “Oh, sorry!” She blushed deeply, glad that he had spoken before she could comment on the silken texture of that particular hair – likely a transgression of spectacular proportion. “I didn’t mean to…”

  He smirked and slowly sat up. “I would not expect you to know about such things.”

  "You'd better shake out your hair,” she said, suddenly aware of their close proximity. She was unable to prevent her eyes from moving across the smooth expanse of his chest, but did stop herself from reaching for some of the strands that hung over his shoulders. “I think there's glass in there, too." She handed him a moist towel to wipe the blood from his hands and where it had pooled at the waistband of his trousers.

  He came to his feet to follow her advice. "It is never totally dark on Delphi with all those moons. We do not see well on nights like this." He peered at his injury before sitting back down, wincing. "I do not know whether to reprimand you for leaving your post or to thank you for bringing me out of there."

  She packed up the medical supplies, her movements sharp and efficient. "Don't do either. I'm not doing you any good playing sentry on a ship that none of those people could even begin to break into. Quit treating me like a greenie."

  He raised an eyebrow.

  "That was Tal Carras on Targon there, wasn't it? You are insubordinate to bloody Colonels but you expect me to stand at attention every time I see you. Gets pretty tiresome on a ship this size. I am not a cadet."

  He smiled. It was a warm, open smile that involved his whole face and one that she had not seen on him before. "You are probably right," he said.

  "Of course I'm right," she mumbled, inwardly astounded by his admission and pleased by the smile he had given her. “Anyway, what was that all about down there? Unless they have no sensors, going in there with an Eagle is like waving a big Union flag at them.”

  “That was the point. They thought I wanted to sell a stolen ship." He rose and headed for his cabin for a change of clothes. “Delphian rebels are unheard of but we do have the odd thief among us. We’re about to make the jump to Feyd. Charted jump. You'll be taking us in."

  "Humans can't go to Feyd!"

  "You rely too much on your textbooks. You will be fine as long as you avoid Feyd's flowering plants. We will not be there for very long. Unless, of course, you want to stay in orbit."

  "Not likely!" she exclaimed before realizing that he was teasing her. It wasn’t exactly clear from the tone of his voice or his expression, but she was beginning to notice that the deep blue of his eyes changed in intensity with his mood. It was a useful discovery.

  “I think you’ll like the planet. Interesting people. We have to meet an agent and then I have a stop to make, but you can look at this as a day off. Pick up some clothes while we’re down there. Something suitable for desert climate. Cold desert. If my hunch is right we're going to take a trip to K'lar Four. I think you should start weaning yourself off your flight suits. You are Vanguard now.” He did not seem to notice her joyful smile when he said that.

  “What stop do you have to make?”

  He smiled. “Going to visit my son.”

  “Your what?”

  “There is a school for officers’ children down there. Obviously not something we advertise. I’d like to visit with him for a few hours before we go to the lower city. You can use the rec center if you want. It’s an excellent facility.”

  “Can I meet him?”

  He seemed surprised. “Yes, of course, if you wish.”

  * * *

  Nova had not been on this planet before. It mattered little in wartime strategies, still out of reach of overt rebel incursions and used mainly as a commercial and recreational destination by Union personnel. Although most Humans suffered allergies here and found it unbearably hot, Feyd offered a playground of lakes and rivers and some of the most valued produce in Trans-Targon.

  The Eagle landed them among a steady stream of traffic coming and going to Talan An, the planet's oldest city. They parked on a public airfield, tipped a few coins to a watchman and boarded a shuttle that took them from the modern airfield across tracts of arable land, dotted with modern farms, to the school property. They stopped near a large complex of institutional buildings inserted like blocks into the landscape.

  Nova looked across a series of playing fields where children of all ages and many species played under supervision. She craned her neck at the windows of nearby buildings, seeing bits of colorful paper stuck to the unshuttered panes.

  Tychon led her into one of the buildings and into a bright commons room. Nova smiled tentatively at the unfamiliar sight of young children at play. The noise was deafening although the children were loosely organized into groups, each led by an adult. Verbal expression was obviously a valued part of the curriculum.

  The pandemonium of sound and moving bodies ebbed when Nova and Tychon were discovered. Some of the children forgot their play and edged closer, staring at the newcomers with varying degrees of shyness.

  "Dadda!" the shrill exclamation caused both Tychon and Nova to turn. A small boy raced across the room to fling himself into Tychon's arms.

  Nova watched bemused as Tychon lifted the child high and kissed him loudly. "Kira," he sighed, holding his son close, tousling the tightly curled hair. "Are they turning you into a soldier yet?"

  The boy nodded and began to prattle about the school, his playmates and himself, seemingly wanting to fit all of this information into one endless sentence. There was the race that he won against the biggest bully of the school who beat him up for it and the kite airplane they were building and were going to launch any day now and did Tychon know that all babies really came from Centauri on a spaceship that came by when no one expected it?

  Nova listened to his exclamations, her eyes on the soft expression that had stolen over Tychon's face as he knelt in front of his son, listening to the words pour from the child in delightful confusion.

  She sat down on a low table, willing to listen for hours. But, although she had moved soundlessly, the child halted his bright monologue in mid-sentence to study her quizzically.

  "Oh, Cadet Kiran, this is my senior offi
cer, Captain Nova Whiteside," Tychon introduced.

  The child saluted, eyeing her suspiciously. Nova returned the gesture. "At ease, Cadet," she said, smiling at the smaller version of Tychon.

  He sent the boy to change his clothes and took a few minutes to question the staff of the school about Kiran's progress. Nova heard that the boy excelled at most of his tasks and was no disciplinary problem. He showed aptitude for engineering skills and languages. One of his teachers voiced her concern that Kiran frequently seemed withdrawn, at times even inattentive. It was not something that was a common problem among Delphian children.

  "Of course," she added quickly, "we are only now receiving a larger enrollment of Delphian children. We have applied for additional staff from Delphi to help us understand them a little better."

  Tychon accepted this, eager to continue his visit with his son. When Kiran rejoined them they strolled back to the waiting shuttle and Nova saw her commander discard his cold remoteness as he gave all of his attention to the child. She heard him laugh at something Kiran said and watched with delight when the two engaged in a tickle fight. He seemed almost relaxed.

  The shuttle brought them from the lovely countryside to a large, precise square of soaring buildings arranged around a long manmade lake. Elevated sidewalks and pedestrian bridges teemed with well-dressed people, most of them Centauri and many of those in uniform. The whole quarter seemed swept clean, as new as it looked, built with Commonwealth trade currency. Nova was torn between liking it for its newness and loathing it for its newness.

  Tychon stepped onto the sidewalk with her when the shuttle had come to a halt in front of a towering structure of glass and metal.

  “This is the rec center I told you about. They have everything you can possibly want here. You can use your insignia to pay for anything here.”

  “I haven’t shopped for clothes in years!” she said, already eyeing the displays lining the street side windows.

  “Women!” he scoffed.

  “Yes, yes, I’ll get desert gear, too.”