Acorna’s Quest Page 9

  The room had several communication devices, good ones, but Calum had to wonder if they were still serviceable under all the mold. He brushed as much gunk as he could away and depressed the com toggle. It clicked uselessly several times before he decided that there was nothing powering it.

  Frowning, he went back outside to see solar panels on the roof. Not much would rot or otherwise damage the materials from which such panels were usually manufactured, but they did have to have at least four hours of sun to operate. Clouds were already gathering to the west. Rather fast, he thought, remembering they’d landed in clear skies and hadn’t even seen a weather front moving in on their approach from the west. Odd that! And there wasn’t so much as a breeze to ruffle the flooded field.

  He caught sight of Acorna in her grazing posture and was delighted that she, at least, had had some luck. He hoped he’d have his share as well. There had to be something wrong for the solar panels to fail. Possibly the cable connecting the panels to the reservoir had perished. Then he spotted the ladder attached to the gable end of the roof, which would give him access to the panels. He’d just check. Sure enough, the cable connections had fallen away from the rain-soft wood, and the cable itself lay half in a puddle, the insulation rotting away from it. Well, he had plenty of cable that size back at the ship, so he climbed down and splashed to the Acadecki, got a belt of the tools he’d need, and waded back to the building.

  It didn’t take him long to splice the cable and, since he rather thought there’d been some sunlight, maybe he could just rouse someone on this planet on the com unit. He headed into the run-down building. Power he had, and he sent a brief message, asking to be met by someone in authority at the field so he could transact business in acquiring new seeds for a hydroponics tank system. Then he trudged back to the Acadecki to get himself a bit of lunch and await the arrival of anyone who’d heard the call.

  That was why he didn’t see Acorna waving frantically in his direction, or hear her distant voice trying to warn him of the flotilla of assorted water vessels heading in his direction, bristling with all sorts of makeshift weapons. The first he knew of danger was an unfriendly challenge from the leading boat: “Hold it right there, y’damned pirate!”

  Whoops, Calum thought, suspecting that Kezdet’s new improved interstellar reputation might not have spread as far as Rushima. For the first time he felt fervently grateful for the hasty departure that had precluded his suggesting that Mercy might accompany them on the journey—ostensibly to provide Acorna with feminine company, that would have been his excuse. His sweet, gentle Mercy had already been exposed to too many dangers in her time—as a spy for the Child Liberation League within the offices of the corrupt Kezdet police. She didn’t need to deal with floods, famine, riots, and whatever else was now coming their way, clearly spoiling for a fight.

  He girded himself quickly with an arms belt, snapped on the field that would keep them outside and him safely within the ship, and just made it to the hatch before the first of the paddled boats arrived with its cargo of many men and women. Most of them were carrying sharp-edged or heavy tools; all of them looked distinctly unfriendly. What had ticked them off so quickly? Were they that serious about that AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY sign on the derelict loading shed?

  “Hold it there yourselves,” he called, raising both arms to show that he was not holding a weapon. Those at his belt could be clearly seen, and he wanted to keep folks far enough away from the ramp so that he could grab a stunner if he needed to. “I’m Calum Baird of the Acadecki. We’ve had a ’ponics failure and need to buy plants and seeds from you.”

  “Plants and seeds, he wants,” a bearded man cried, laughing almost hysterically. That was the general mood of those who poled or paddled their craft to surround the Acadecki. They kept repeating his words with variations of derision and angry frustration.

  “This is Rushima, isn’t it?” Calum asked, perplexed.

  “What you bastards have left of Rushima, you mean,” the spokesman said, and the muttered growls of his companions did nothing to reassure him as to the general hostile mood.

  “We’re from Maganos Moon Base at Kezdet on our way to Coma Berenices on a private mission,” Calum went on, making his voice sound as reasonable as he could even though he was scared stiff. Why hadn’t he listened to Pal about defense systems? Not that anything a spaceship carried would have been useful in his present circumstances.

  “Pull the other one, it’s got bells on,” growled the spokesman.

  “Hey, now, he could be telling the truth,” a tenor voice suggested. A young man in a raft with ten-centimeter sides glided to the side of the Acadecki, and read out their current alpha-numeric identification code. “That’s not a Starfarer ID. Could be from Kezdet.”

  “So could half the pirates in the galaxy,” said the leader, who evidently was all too aware of Kezdet’s lax registration laws, which attracted all sorts of illicit business, “and if those Starfarers are as far-flung as they keep telling us they are, could be one of theirs anyhow. But it’s shortly going to be ours….”

  There was movement as some of the bigger men slipped into the water and started for the ramp.

  “Hey, the water out here’s clear,” a woman said, astonishment and delight in her voice. She scooped up a handful, tasted it cautiously, and let out a whoop. “How’d you do this, mister?”

  Immediately others were sampling the water. And then almost everyone, at the risk of tipping over their basically fragile craft, buried their faces to drink so thirstily that the sight transfixed Calum.

  Water, water, everywhere nor any drop to drink—the phrase popped in from some distant corner of his brain.

  “I did it.” Acorna stepped gracefully around the after section of the ship. She also held her hands up, not that she could have hidden anything in the short, skintight tunic she was wearing. “Purifying water is one of our skills.”

  Calum closed his eyes in what could have been prayerful exhortation. Acorna had learned a great deal about humans during her experiences with Kisla Manjari and Didi Badini’s attempts to kill her, but she was still far too trusting. These people might have softened a little during their brief talk, but they had started out as a mob out for vengeance. And, if purifying water just happened to be a must for this section of a waterlogged planet, Acorna might find herself an unwilling resident of Rushima.

  At least she had said “our,” instead of “my” skills, so they might not be aware that she had the power to cleanse the water all by herself.

  He eased himself slightly to the right side, where the controls were. If she could just get close enough to dive through the hatch, he could have the field off and on before anyone else could capture her. He gave her the slightest signal with the fingers of one hand, trying to convey the necessity of boarding the ship as quickly as possible. Even the few who were out of their boats wouldn’t be able to move as quickly through the water as Acorna could.

  “Can you tell us what has happened to your planet? For something most disastrous has,” she said in her sweet and calming voice. Even Calum began to feel more serene, less anxious. He blinked. With water still dribbling down the corners of his mouth, the spokesman regarded her with considerably less animosity than he had accorded Calum.

  “Them Starfarers”—he jerked a finger heavenward—“they’re running a bloody bandulu bidness.”

  “Huh?”

  “Protection racket,” the young man who’d read the Acadecki’s registration translated. “They offered to give us weather-prediction services for a fee, and when we said we didn’t need ’em as our climate is so even—”

  “That baggy on the com—”

  “Woman,” the younger man interpreted. “Give a nasty snigger, she did, and said we might be getting some climate changes. We’ve had nothing but rain since then…drowned all our winter crops before we could harvest anything, and there’s no point in trying to raise anything in this.” He pointed to the floodland. “And if we tried rice,
they’d fry us.”

  “WHO?” Calum and Acorna said with such incredulity and outrage that their chorus provided more evidence of their innocence than any eloquence.

  “Starfarers,” was the universal reply. “They’ve been making a mess of the weather.”

  “Starfarers? I thought they were just a political protest group,” Calum said.

  “They’ve been ‘making it rain’?” Acorna was still dumbfounded and glanced at Calum, but she was also surreptitiously moving nearer the ramp.

  “Can you manipulate weather like that?” she asked Calum with such incredulity that it provoked sour laughter from several sources.

  “Not with any accuracy,” Calum said, “and you have to work off existing weather conditions.”

  The spokesman gave a hollow laugh. “Well, then, they got ’em some kin’ obeah beyond any you know. They got half our fields soaked and t’other half dried up like a desert, and it ain’t gonna get better till we pays up.”

  “That’s extortion,” Acorna said indignantly. She had learned a good deal about extortion, blackmail, and such terrorizing activities on Kezdet, but those had been industrial or economic, not ecological. There was humorless laughter from the crowd, but Calum was relieved that the belligerence apparent at their arrival seemed to have eased.

  “And how’d you fix the com unit?” the spokesman said.

  “A new length of cable was all it needed, and the sun we had this morning.”

  “First sun we’ve seen in yonks.” Then the man gestured to the flooded land. “Not that it’ll do much good. We’re promised”—and his expression was sour—“…another six inches of rain if we fail to accept their ‘protection.’”

  “You say this has been going on since the Starfarers arrived?” Calum asked. “By the way, I’m Calum Baird, Li Moon Mining Enterprises, and this lovely lady is Acorna Delszaki-Harakamian.”

  “Know those names,” the younger man said. “You’re connected with the House Harakamian?” he asked Acorna, and didn’t seem to realize that she had edged closer to the side of the ship, nearer the ramp.

  “Mr. Delszaki Li and the House Harakamian are my guardians,” she said proudly. “If you know them, then you realize that we have nothing whatever to do with…this!”

  “I’m Joshua Flouse, mayor of this.” He gestured contemptuously at the lake. “Is that purifier device of yours on the market?”

  “Why, yes, it is,” Acorna said with a bright smile, taking one step closer to the ramp. “I’ll just get you one, shall I?”

  Calum’s left hand depressed the field-generator switch, and he gave her a nod. With a nimble and unexpected leap, she was on the ramp and moving inside while Calum reinstated the protective field just in time to slow the startled Flouse, who had lunged forward after Acorna only to find his arms slowed as if swimming through cold molasses.

  “That is,” Calum said crisply, feeling more able to take a firm line now that Acorna was safe, “we’ll trade our water-purification services for seeds—legumes and broad-leafed greens for choice. Oh, and zinc and copper sulfates to replace the trace elements our system accidentally dumped. We’d only need small quantities.”

  Flouse’s expression showed his disappointment at Acorna’s escape. But she was smiling at him so charmingly that he shook his head, abashed, and shrugged.

  “Whaddawe got left?” he asked, turning to those in the boats around him.

  “Just about everything we’ve been able to keep dry enough to plant if we ever get the chance,” a woman said. “But right now I’d settle for clean water, Josh.”

  “We’ll also undertake to inform the authorities of these Starfarers who are blackmailing you,” Calum said. “Unauthorized interference with a developing planet is a serious offense.”

  “Tell them!” half a dozen voices chorused as even more fingers pointed skyward.

  Joshua pointed to the group in one of the motorized boats. “Jason?” he called, and the man at the tiller answered with a loud “Yo!”

  “You got the security code. Get us some chickachicka peas and greens seeds. And bring a few seedling chard and rhubarbs. And a canister of Solution B.” He turned back to Calum and Acorna, showing his eagerness to complete the deal. “Anything else?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have alfalfa seeds, would you?” Acorna asked wistfully.

  “A sack of alfalfa it is, ma’am. Now, lemme see this purifier of yours?”

  “I’ll just get one,” she said, and before Calum could ask her what the hell she had in mind, she was down the companionway, moving in the direction of the storage compartment.

  When Calum turned back to the flotilla, he saw that some children were splashing about in clear water up to their knees, laughing as they whooshed water at each other.

  “It’s been lack of clean water that’s been the worst part to bear,” Flouse said, shaking his head. “Boiled water isn’t the same, and we couldn’t even bathe or wash clothes without the smell staying in. Flooded out our sewage system by the third week, and we hadn’t a chance of stopping it. Some folks”—Flouse jerked his head in a northerly direction—“have tried sending tankers just to get our water to keep crops going, but the convoys keep getting blown up by lightning. Midday, at that, and not a blink of warning. Just zap!”—he brought both hands together in a resounding slap that momentarily stopped the kids playing—“whole damned convoy’s crisped.”

  “How do they expect you to pay them if they’ve ruined your economy?”

  “They’ll lift the weather controls if we agree to supply them with all their food and the other agricultural stuff we were producing to pay off our colonial debts.”

  Calum nodded, understanding the basic crunch of producing sufficient to feed themselves with an excess to export to acquit the indebtedness of the initial expense of colonial expansion.

  “Only they’re going to send…administrators to see that each town and county supplies the quotas they’re setting.”

  From the dolorous expression on the faces of Flouse and the others, Calum quickly saw that the Rushimese would be left with barely enough to feed their own families.

  “Any idea where they came from?”

  “Dunno. They’re mighty short on explanations.”

  They both could hear metallic whangs and bangs echoing down the companionway, and Calum had to pretend he knew exactly what Acorna was doing…when he was dying of suspense and anxiety.

  But while she was contrapting whatever she was making, he found out all he could extract from Flouse and the others. The return of the launch coincided with Acorna’s reappearance at the hatch, carrying a length of ordinary three-centimeter pipe, with valves on each end which were obviously meant to be attached to an intake point of the main town water supply.

  “Now, this purifier has interstellar patents from here to the last century,” Acorna said, pointing to the center piece. “I wouldn’t try to investigate, as the purifier is also delicate—useless once it has been unsealed. But I can guarantee that any water running through the purifier will come out one hundred percent pure.”

  The launch slowed beside the ramp and willing hands transferred the seeds, seedlings, and nutrient canister to Calum just as Acorna placed the “purifier” in Flouse’s eager hands. That was when he noticed the small slice that she had taken from her horn. Was she going to be read a riot act when they were safely away from here!!! Calum did not forget to switch back on the field that separated them from the crowd. But they had what they needed, and so did the Acadecki.

  “I promise you, we’ll send out word of this to the authorities as soon as we’re clear of planetary interference,” Calum said. “Now, if you’ll just step back, we’d best be off.”

  Acorna had disappeared the instant she had the ’ponics’ replacements, so it was up to him to get them safely away.

  Calum carefully lifted the Acadecki in low-energy mode before touching the thrusters lightly enough to move far enough away from the flooded land to start an asce
nt. He wasn’t sure who he was maddest at: Acorna for using a piece of her own self to provide the purification for those poor farmers, or the frigging bastards holding an entire world to ransom with weather tricks. And where had they gotten such tricks FROM in the first place?

  He was far too busy laying in a course to access the Galacticapedia, but he would as soon as he had a finger free. As far as he knew, there was no process that could deliver rain to one area of a planet, lightning on command to another, and relentless sun to bake a third. That was undoubtedly why he didn’t check the screen until he felt the unmistakable yank of a tractor beam…a very powerful tractor beam…snatching the Acadecki right off her ascent and inexorably into the maw of a massive spaceship, no doubt owned and manned by the Starfarers.

  Five

  Haven, Unified Federation Date 334.05.17

  Calum tried desperately to send a Mayday to Maganos, but they’d been ahead of him all along, and his signal bounced harmlessly back.

  Calum was damning himself left, right, and center before Acorna came running to the bridge.

  “What are you doing, Calum? I nearly lost the can…” Her complaint trailed off as the lights from their captor nearly blinded her.

  “The Starfarers?”

  “Sorry about this, Acorna,” he said, mortified. “Rafik and Gill would never have been so stupid as not to check the trajectory, much less the proximity screens.”

  “Well, I’ve a few choice words for such scummy piratical opportunists….”

  She was so angry her horn glowed, and Calum buried his head in his arms. He’d done it now. Truly he’d done it. How was he going to save Acorna from this? He only hoped the Starfarers had been so busy with their felonious extortion that no hint of a strange species with a horn had reached their com unit.