Decision at Doona

Chapter XVII. SEARCH

THE NEWS of Todd's invitation was all over the camp by morning. Pat remarked acidly to Ken that she thought the general relief was almost indecent. After all, Todd wasn't a monster and he certainly was the only one of the children who got along on Doona. She felt as if she were paroling him to the custody of the Hrrubans instead of sending him as an honored guest.

“The Hrrubans wouldn't have any of their mealy-mouthed kids,” she said, loftily maternal.

“Honey,” Ken drawled warningly.

“Well, he is my child,” and she glowered at Ken.

“And be honest, hon, you're the gladdest of all to get rid of him.”

“It just isn't natural,” she wailed, abruptly contrite.

He pulled her into his arm, kissing the end of her nose affectionately.

“I'll get you an appointment with the colony head-shrinker for those guilt complexes,” he said. She gave a little sigh and leaned against him.

Once Ken reached the lumber team, he took so much teasing that he began to understand Pat's irritation. Before he reached the end of his patience a minor emergency diverted everyone's thoughts from Todd.

That night Todd returned from the village, relatively clean, two new cuts neatly bandaged. Proudly he handed over to his mother four brace of the small ground fowl the Hrrubans relished. He had trapped them all single-handed.

“You should have seen his little face when he presented them to me, Ken,” Pat murmured, her eyes misting.

“You should see yours,” Ken retorted.

“Oh, you! Yipe!” because Ken had pinched her after the fashion of husbands who wish to prevent their females from waxing oversentimental.

“We'll be barn raising day after tomorrow right enough,” Ken announced at the dinner table. “Todd, do you think you and Hrriss can catch a whole mess of these whacha-callums?”

“Brrnas? Sure!” Todd replied, his eyes snapping with pleasure at the challenge.

Ilsa regarded him with an expression akin to awe.

“How do you catch them?” Pat asked.

Todd launched into a blow-by-blow description of the process that made Ken's eyes widen. Pat's face took on an expression of horrified fascination.

“I think it's cruel, cruel,” Ilsa cried out in anguish jumping up from the table and running from the room in tears. Pat, with an angry glare at Todd, rushed from the room to comfort her daughter.

Todd gave his father a what-have-I-done-now look. Ken shrugged his shoulders and, for a few moments, a bond existed between the two males of the house drawn together against the vapors of their women.

When the children were in bed, Pat settled down on the wall couch, and curled up against Ken. There was a pungent aroma emanating from her hair and Ken sniffed experimentally.

“Oh, dear, that rlban sap stink just won't go away,” she apologized. “Did you know, they use it as a coating on their pottery before they fire it. That's why their pots have that high glaze we couldn't identify.”

“Hmmm,” Ken mumbled contentedly, settling his cheek against her soft hair. God, it was good to have your arms around a woman.

«You know, I'd very much like to – well, do something for Mrrva.»

“Hmmm.”

«She had him all day and it's just – oh, you know.»

“Huh?”

“But I can't think what to give her that she doesn't already have. I mean, she's got so much more than I have.”

“What on earth are you nattering about, hon?”

“Nattering about? I like that!” And she struggled up and out of the comfortable position he had arranged.

“I like it too,” he grinned at her. “It's so damned good to have you . . .”

“Just a moment, Ken Reeve. I'm talking about something important.”

“I know, giving Mrrva something. Well, hon, we're kind of out of our element here. Seems to me the giving's all from them.”

“That's exactly what I mean. Really, it goes against my pride to take all the time. But what can I give her?” Pat's voice ended on a mournful note.

Ken ran his finger down the side of her throat to the hollow of her collarbone, across her smooth skin to the top of her tunic.

«I tell you one thing you do Mrrva doesn't – you do fancy sewing. There's not a female in either village that doesn't like something pretty to wear.»

“Of course!” Pat sat up, delighted. “Just the thing.” But when she tried to rise, heading toward her small chest of treasures brought from Earth, Ken pulled her roughly back into his arms and silenced her protests with deliberately passionate kisses.

The next evening, when Ken got home from laying the barn's foundations and flooring, his house seemed to have sprouted wings. Small fowl carcasses hung in garlands from the branches of the sheltering trees. Todd, Hrriss and two other cubs who had helped transport this plenty, were squatting in the front yard, consuming berry tarts with great gusto. They looked exceedingly pleased with themselves.

"My word is their command,'' Pat greeted her husband gaily.

“It looks as if he had organized the entire Hrruban youth for the dirty deed.”

Pat looked at him curiously. “According to him, he did. And we'll need it. Todd also bears the message that the whole village plus some extra visitors from the south are coming tomorrow to help. The men to raise the barn; the women to cook.”

“That's the plan,” Ken agreed, stretching wearily out on the couch.

“Dinner'll be a few more minutes,” Pat told him, bustling away toward the kitchen.

Ken closed his eyes and the sounds around him seemed to magnify. He heard the bubbling of boiling water in the kitchen, the clunk as Pat's spoon hit the pot, the noises of the birds outside in the trees and the chatter of the children. The Hrrubans burst into a purring laugh as Toddy corrected himself on some mispronounced word. The Hrrubans chanted it back at him until he got it right. This accomplished, the chatter subsided into a low purrish rumble and Ken drifted off into a doze.

The next day, an early morning thunderstorm threatened to postpone the barn raising. The Hrrubans arrived, despite the storm, and took shelter from the downpour in the mess hall. They assured the colonists that the storm would abate. Suddenly the sun came out and the skies cleared of the scudding black clouds.

By high noon, two sides of the barn were up and the skeletons of the others ready to be hoisted and joined. The womenfolk called the men to tables where steaming mounds of crisply browned brrnas awaited the hearty appetites.

Halfway through the meal, with a suddenness that left the Terrans speechless, the Hrrubans seemed to melt away, into the forest, across the bridge, out of sight.

“Well, howd'ya like that?” Gaynor exclaimed when the colonists realized what had happened.

“That's odd. I didn't think they took a siesta,” Dot McKee said.

Reeve caught the patronizing expression on Todd's face.

“Okay, young man, so you know the answer?”

Todd assumed an innocent expression.

“Why did they leave, Todd?”

“You don't hear so good, do you, dad? Not like Hrrula.” Todd grinned. He stuffed another berry tart in his mouth, detouring the overflow of the juices with a grubby fist. He wiped his hand carefully on his pants and pointed a berry-stained finger skyward. “Something's coming. Something big. And loud.”

“Stop wiping your dirty hands on your pants,” Ken admonished absently. “What's coming?”

In answer, the homing beacon lit up.

“A message capsule?” Lawrence murmured hopefully.

Ken felt Pat's fingers twine into his, press them fiercely.

Todd shook his head and squinted up. “Bigger'n that. I can hear it,” he said and blithely reached for another berry tart, utterly oblivious to the consternation his announcement had caused.

“So soon, so soon,” Pat cried.

“Alreldep?” Eckerd suggested tentatively and then cleared his throat hastily.

Someone had enough presence of mind to get binoculars, but by that time the glint of the sun on metal was already visible.

“Can't you distinguish the markings yet?”

“Too much reflection. But I don't think it's a big ship,” Macy McKee remarked and passed the glasses to Gaynor.

“It's not a transport,” Sam said after a long, long pause. There was an audible sigh of relief from the small bunch of anxious adults. “I think it's Spacedep. Here, you take a look Buzz,” and he handed the glasses to Eckerd.

“No, it's not a transport. It must be Spacedep. They're the only ones run that class ship.”

“Codep said they were sending someone too,” Hu Shih reminded them.

“Whoever it is, it's trouble,” Gaynor grumbled.

“You won, Sam,” said McKee when the markings on the ship were clearly visible.

“I can't call that winning,” Sam growled.

“Why'd you suppose the Hrrubans left?” Pat whispered anxiously to Ken as Hu Shih and Gaynor got into the tractor to welcome the arrival.

“Ask our authority,” Ken said, jerking his thumb at Todd who was slowly munching through his fifth tart. He seemed to be the only one interested in eating, although coffee was passed around while the colonists waited.

It took an unconscionably long time, Ken thought, for the tractor to make the return trip. Maybe that was why he felt apprehensive and uncertain when Al Landreau stood up in the back of the tractor sled to be introduced. He was a compactly built man, his close-cropped hair graying. His piercing glance swept over the scene, the bird carcasses, even Toddy munching stolidly away.

“Have you eaten, Commander Landreau?” Hu Shih asked politely.

“No, although the offer is appreciated,” was the crisp reply. “I early learned to stick to my own diet. That way I don't experience any cravings for foods I can't have in deep space.” It was not so much a criticism as a statement of the facts of his way of life, but Reeve was certain not a single adult missed the inference. The colonists would find it doubly hard to return to the pre-processed taste of Earth.

“Commander Landreau is here to conduct a search for signs of alien invasion,” Hu Shih remarked formally, his expression bland.

“I'll require the assistance of all indigenous personnel,” Landreau said, looking over the men and mentally picking out those he would recruit for the job.

“There's a little confusion over the exact definition of 'indigenous personnel,' Commander,” Lawrence said with covert humor. “You see, we feel the Hrrubans are indigenous. Now I'm sure they'll be glad to help . . .”

A flick of Landreau's hand cut Lawrence off.

“You,” and the finger stabbed at the colonists, “are the indigenous personnel as far as Spacedep is concerned.”

"We – " and Reeve paused, imitating the spaceman's rhetorical style, "disagree."

Landreau's sharp glance swung around to isolate Ken from the rest. Reeve had the feeling that every nerve and sense in the man's body was concentrated on him and him alone. Unconsciously he straightened up.

"Yes, Landreau, we disagree," he repeated. "And you will have to too, Commander, no matter what official position you have been ordered to take. The Hrrubans are very much in evidence and their habitation is permanent. Consequently, they must be considered indigenous.

Landreau blinked his eyes once, the only sign of his reaction. The man's supreme self-assurance infuriated Ken but he kept a close hold on his temper. It would be intensely satisfying to witness Landreau's discomfiture when they showed him the Hrruban village.

“The Hrrubans have spent all week helping us cut and trim lumber for the barn here and, just before you arrived, they were joining us in lunch,” Hu Shih said, determinedly pleasant as he indicated the tables which had obviously accommodated more than the number of colonists.

Landreau disregarded such evidence with a careless gesture.

“You realize, of course, that you have laid yourselves open to severe penalties for unauthorized contact with aliens,” he said with flat disapproval.

“Look, Landreau,” and Ken stepped forward, “dump that alien bit. The Hrrubans are entirely too knowledgeable about this planet and its resources to be aliens. Your Department ostensibly surveyed Doona, and Alreldep searched it before they cleared it to Codep for our colony. Well, survey and search notwithstanding, the Hrrubans are here and you boys will have to admit to making a mistake.”

“Prove it!” said Landreau expressionlessly.

“My pleasure,” Reeve retorted, anger flaring unreasonably within him. He shook off Pat's warning hand. “Follow me.” He started across the Common to the bridge.

“You've got a copter,” Landreau reminded him in a curt tone.

Ken turned and looked the spaceman up and down as contemptuously as he himself had been examined.

“The village is in deep forest and inaccessible to a copter. We walk.”

He and Landreau locked glances as he issued his challenge. The spaceman shrugged and gestured ironically to Reeve to continue. Lawrence, with a cryptic nod to Hu Shih, fell in with them.

As the three crossed the bridge, they could hear Gaynor's rousing bellow.

“Okay, okay, so we lost our helping hands but we've got to get the job done.”

Once across the bridge, Reeve set out at a bruising pace that drew a startled exclamation from Lawrence. The spaceman, however, was imperturbable and lengthened his own stride to match. Before they had reached the midpoint of the initial slope, Reeve could see the shine of sweat on the spaceman's forehead. Lawrence, in the same keen physical trim as Reeve, was just beginning to breathe heavily as they topped the rise. Landreau was panting but he kept to the pace set.

The trio plunged down into the welcome cool of the soughing forest. Reeve was forced to slow down or careen off tree trunks and boulders. At first, he attributed the absence of smoke to the fact that the Hrrubans had planned to eat with the colonists that day. They'd've banked their fire. But when he didn't see the bulk of the houses through the trees by the time they reached the edge of the clearing, a curious feeling hit him in the pit of his stomach.

“What the hell?” Lawrence demanded, turning around in the empty site, incredulous.

Where Reeve had first squatted under the needle tree with Hrrestan and the other elders of the village, there was no dust where restless fingers had made patterns; only an unblemished thick layer of tree droppings No indentations were left to mark where the heavy trestle bench had been; no burned-over area where the fire had flared. Only the silence of the forest and the frantic scuttling of Reeve and Lawrence to find some scrap of artifact that would bear witness to the village's existence.

With a blandness that bordered on insolence, Landreau watched their hectic search.

“You've had your fun but I'll set the pace on the way back,” he drawled at last. “And from now on.”

Knowing that protestations were useless, Reeve attempted none and, shrugging helplessly at this unexpected development, he curtly motioned to Landreau to lead off.

Suddenly a small body erupted into the village site, round-eyed, breath coming in staggering gasps. A panic-stricken Todd dug frantically in the mulch where Hrriss's house had stood.

“They've gone. Where are they?” he sobbed, hysterically interspersing his gasping phrases with Hrruban wails of despair. “Daddy, where are they?” he demanded, darting to his father and tugging at his hand as if Reeve somehow could lead him to his friends.

“I don't know, son. I just don't know,” Reeve admitted, looking about the clearing, anywhere except into the tragedy-filled eyes of his son.

Todd dropped his father's hand and whirled on Landreau, who was watching the scene with an expression of cynicism that deepened into a puzzled frown. The small wiry body seemed to coil like an overwound mechanism. And, with all the hatred of a loyal soul, Todd directed his righteous anger at the spaceman.

“You,” and the force of the small boy's contempt made the spaceman take an inadvertent step backward, “you drove my friends away!”