Powers that Be

Chapter 13

No doubt in an effort to humiliate, harass, or annoy her, Giancarlo signaled Ornery-eyes to stay in the room where Yana was to dress herself. It would take a lot more than Ornery-eyes to perturb Yana. She was slightly flattered that Giancarlo thought it would! Ignoring her audience, she took advantage of the dressing-room shower to enjoy a quick wash before she dressed. She smiled as she noticed that she had been given ordinary-issue clothes, not winter gear. Torture could take many subtle forms: freezing wasn't a common one.

When Ornery bustled her down the corridor to the assembly point, Yana was reasonably sure she'd had the best of that deal. For when they got outside, it was nearly as warm as the facility had been-and she was far more comfortable, in the lighter garments, than any of the others were.

She was shoved, just ducking her head in time to keep from cracking it on the doorframe, into a ground vehicle, which was already inhabited by several squads, sweating in their winter gear. They were conveyed out to the field where a troop copter waited. She caught a glimpse of other air-assault vehicles and some big land cruisers. She also saw two dark circles, one of considerable size, where the field, plascrete and all, had subsided. She wondered if the planet knew what to target or if it just pulled the plug where the terrain made it easiest.

They had barely gotten settled when the bulky vehicle tilted to one side.

"Lift! Lift! Lift!" Torkel yelled as the pilot made as if to investigate the damage.

Yana privately enjoyed the planet's antics very much, though she was crammed in the backseat between Giancarlo and Ornery-eyes's massive torso. The latter had folded his arms over his chest and was staring straight ahead, ignoring the almost- 180-degree view afforded by the bubble-shaped Plexiglas windshield. Yana, however, took the scene in eagerly.

Craters pocked the surface of the great field. As the vehicle came around and headed north-northeast toward Kilcoole, she saw the village below; then, as the copter angled off toward the mountains, she gasped as she caught glimpses of the river, seamed with dark, steaming cracks. Its surface was littered with snocles, either capsized into the cracks or stranded on larger blocks of ice. A few, back toward SpaceBase, were being off-loaded by men stripped down to their shirts, while farther ahead men and women scrambled to save each other from drowning and pulled each other ashore. A couple of snocles were attempting to find snow firm enough for the runners to ski on while one soldier broke trail, planting markers to show where the snow had not yet turned to slush.

Yana hoped that Bunny's snocle wasn't out there among the stranded, or that the girl hadn't been arrested when Yana was. She also wondered just where Scan was, but one thing was sure: he wouldn't be where this copter was taking them.

It landed in the pasture that had once held the curly-coats. She thought she caught sight of one of the dark ones, hiding in the copse, but it could have just been a big brown-branched bush the height of a curly-coat. The house, when the troopers entered it, weapons drawn, had the feeling of a deserted place. At least that was what Yana sensed from the still, cool air inside. Not so much as a whisker of one of Sean's unusual big cats, either. Torkel led the way down the link to the laboratories, Giancarlo with him, Ornery hauling her along in their wake.

"I want every disk, file, paperwork, notebook, everything," Torkel called over his shoulder to the lieutenant in charge of the squads. "Everything taken back to the base. I want this place under strict surveillance and rigged to catch anyone who steps inside."

"The animals are all gone," Giancarlo said savagely. "He obviously got back here to let them all loose. We could have learned something from them."

Yana could see from the condition of the pens that they hadn't been occupied for a while. That must have been the first thing Scan had done when he had separated from her.

"You certainly didn't expect to find them here, did you, Colonel, tamely waiting for us?" Torkel asked, resuming his pose of amused condescension.

"Dammit, Fiske, I told you we should have moved in on him earlier, right after that all-night binge the natives had."

"But I thought that was too good a chance for my undercover operative to miss," Torkel said, leaning against the wall. Just where Scan had leaned, Yana thought, the first day they had met. "Is that where everyone got their orders, Yana? Is that where you switched sides?"

"I haven't switched sides, Captain Fiske. I'm still a company woman, trying to help the company all I can."

Giancarlo raised both fists, and she stared back, daring him to carry through his threat.

"You both wanted me to see what I could find out. I did just that," Yana went on. "Not my fault I can't tell you what you want to hear. No one's told me what that is."

"Terce said you'd sold out," Giancarlo shouted. "He saw you go with the others, to plot treason."

"Where'd he see us go?" she asked, hoping her hunch was correct. "We were in the hall until daybreak and then most of ui went to the hot spring to clean up."

"That fat woman, the one with all the cats, is the ringleader."

"Clodagh?" Yana allowed her incredulity and astonishment full rein and laughed. "If that's what Terce told you, Colonel, you must be the only one on Petaybee who doesn't know that he isn't playing with a full deck."

Just then the comm unit bleeped, and Torkel toggled it on. He listened, and in the next moment, disbelief, consternation, and finally horror swept across his face.

"Back! Back to the copter!" His arm swept them before him with great urgency. "Shuttle's crashed!"

Yana wondered from Torkel's reaction if his father, old Whit-taker Fiske, had been due to arrive in that particular shuttle. Briefly she considered departing in the confusion. Ornery was up ahead of her in the corridor: she could slip away very easily right now. But she was certain she had weakened Giancarlo's accusation. She could do more if she hung about. Maybe, with a little luck, she might get Torkel to listen to what she was saying. And, if his father wasn't dead, maybe she could beat some sense in that old man's head. She would certainly prejudice the case she had been making by doing a flit right now. Petaybee ought to have one advocate in the company's court. Sauntering, she caught up with Ornery just as he realized she wasn't nearby.

"Miss me, big boy?" she asked, and walked past him, out to the waiting copter, where she slid in next to Giancarlo, leaving Ornery to compress his mass into the space between her and the copter's bulkhead. Ignoring the commotion and Torkel's demand for more information on the accident from the copter pilot, she was perhaps the only one looking out past Ornery toward the river, newly freed from ice thrall. She sat up straight, unable to believe her eyes, as a dark object that she first thought was a boulder turned into a seal and suddenly moved with astonishing speed and grace to slip into the water.

Now, how long had that been there? Had it actually been watching the house? Or was her imagination working overtime?

The regeneration is all the more remarkable as it's so totally improbable," the medic was saying to his companion as they preceded Diego down the hospital corridor. "Never saw anything like this. And in such a short time. Woman was hacking her lungs out and not likely to live the year out."

The man beside him asked a question that Diego could not hear, but he figured they had to be talking about Yana.

"No, no, can't be a transplant. I'd believe that more than a natural remission but there're no scars: not even a 'scope hole."

They turned to the right at the next corridor and he went on, thinking hard. Bunny had mentioned that Yana's health had improved since her arrival on Petaybee. He snorted. His father's sure hadn't. What if… And he halted in his tracks for a long moment. Then he was jolted out of his reverie by tremors underfoot- which reminded Diego of other half-understood remarks by Bunny. Why wasn't she around when she was needed? Why had she skitted out of the base as if something was after her?

More than anything now, he wanted to get Dad to Kilcoole and Clodagh. Petaybee had messed his dad up and now Petaybee could damn well cure him, like it had Yana!

It was, as Diego had hoped, slack time in the ward. Dad was sitting up in his chair, and dressed, which might have been a battle. Diego had stuffed another parka under his own, a real drag with the heat so high. Even his dad was sweating a bit. Diego got (he wheelchair and, for the benefit of the other men in the ward, started his chatter.

"Dad, you wouldn't believe the weather out today, so I'm goin' to take you for a little stroll. See if we can't chase the cobwebs out of your head. Here now, easy, you just sit tight, huh?"

His father, as usual, didn't acknowledge his words with so much as a lifting of the eyes.

Diego wheeled him out of the ward, down the hall, and onto the ramp outside the infirmary.

For the first time he became acutely aware of how noisy it was at SpaceBase, of the change in the temperature and the air. Snocles that had once zipped down the snowy paths between buildings were racing their engines to escape being mired in slushy, melting snow. New vehicles, forklifts and track-cats, toiled to move the tons of equipment freshly delivered to the loading docks. One of the smaller track-cats was trying to shift a snocle entrenched in a snow bank.

Suddenly the ground bucked, the boardwalk collapsed at one end, and the wheelchair jerked from Diego's grasp and rolled down onto the ground.

Diego jumped down and caught it before it turned over and dumped his dad in the slush. People ran past him, ducking for cover, as another jarring crash from somewhere nearby shook the ground. When he looked up, he saw that both the track-cat and the mired snocle, engines still running, had been abandoned by their drivers. The track-cat was just a few yards away, but the wheel-chair was stuck in the slush.

"Come on, Dad, you're going to have to help me," Diego said, his fingers fumbling to unstrap the wheelchair's safety belt. He placed his father's arm around his own shoulders and tried to haul him to his feet, but Francisco was dead weight. Diego looked from the aged, uncomprehending face to the alluring track-cat.

He changed tactics. He slid his father back into the chair and darted for the track-cat. It couldn't be much different from driving anything else, and he already knew how to drive hovercrafts and had watched Bunny drive her snocle. He released the tow chain and flung himself into the driver's seat, fumbling for the throttle.

After a little experimentation, he managed to get it into reverse and backed it over to where his father sagged in the chair. Leaving the snocle idling, he hopped down beside his dad, pulling the limp and unresponding arm back across his shoulders and attempting to hoist the older man up once more. This was hopeless! Dad just hung limply and could do nothing. In another minute the driver would return, or someone would pass by and see them, and then this perfect chance would be lost.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" someone said suddenly behind him.

Diego nearly jumped out of his skin, then recognized Steve's voice just as his father's partner stepped in front of him.

"I've been searching all over for you. I heard the explosions…"

"We're fine," Diego said hotly. "And we'd have been even finer if you hadn't caught us. I've got to get Dad out of here and I will somehow." He raised his chin defiantly and stared Steve straight in the eye.

Steve stared back, looking at Diego as if he were crazy; then all of a sudden he shrugged. "Okay, Diego, it's your call. But I go, too." And he picked Diego's dad up in his arms as if the stricken man were a baby and climbed up on the companion seat in the track-cat.

Diego scrambled into the driver's seat and, after a try or two, shifted the cat into forward gear and headed toward the village.

Bunny roared into the snocle shed. Adak was red in the face

and waving his hands, arguing with a uniformed soldier, but she had no time to be polite about interrupting them.

"Adak, quick, we've got to rouse the village! The river's breaking up way early, and a lot of snocles are trapped on the river. Seamus fell into a crack bigger than a tree saving one of the drivers, and the others pulled him out."

"You run and tell Clodagh, Bunka. She'll let the village know, and I'll get on the radio for help."

"I told you, sir, I'm relieving you of duty," the soldier said.

"Good. Then you get on the radio," Adak said. "And I'll use this vehicle to try to rescue the stranded drivers."

"You can't do that, sir. That's a company-issue snocle, and not a private vehicle," the soldier said. "Besides, I don't know how to work this thing," he added, staring at the microphone.

"Fine, then I will, and you go help the drivers, but keep your snocle off the river and for pity's sake stop standing about arguing, man," Adak snapped.

Bunny grinned as, without further argument, the soldier climbed into the snocle and gunned it back down the tracks it had just made. Bunny sprinted out of the shed as Adak was pulling on his headphones and picking up his microphone.

Whatever he was saying over the radio was lost, however, because all over town the sled dogs had begun to howl with the plaintive screams of tortured souls. As Bunny passed by Lavelle's place on her way to Clodagh's, she was even more surprised at the antics of Lavelle's dogs. Still tethered to their kennels, some were standing on the roofs and howling; others were lying on the ground, whining and baying in turn. Dinah, the lead dog, had become a frantic canine acrobat. She raced to the end of her chain, then back and forth and in frenzied circles until her lead was tangled in her legs and around her collar, and her neck would soon be rubbed raw from the friction. Bunny stopped to untangle her.

Poor Dinah. She really missed Lavelle, Bunny thought, but then, when she stopped to touch her, she got an urgent flash of hot, panting thought: The boy, the boy, gotta go, gotta go, gotta get the boy, oh let me get him, gotta go, needs me, friend, friend, needs me, needs me needs me, gotta go, go go nowoooo…

"Shh, Dinah, shhh," Bunny said. It didn't feel strange to be talking to a dog: she did it all the time. But it did seem odd that the dog seemed to be talking, too. "Diego's okay, Dinah. I just left him. Look, tell you what, you come with me and we'll find Clodagh, okay? Don't run off now when I unsnap you. Maloneys have had enough pain without losing you, too."

The more of Dinah she untangled, the more the dog calmed, tail wagging cooperatively; but when the dog was at last free, she snatched herself out of Bunny's grasp and bounded off toward the river.

Holy cow, sir, where did that volcano come from?" the pilot asked Torkel as the copter sped toward the westerly crash-site coordinates provided by SpaceBase. They were still a good distance away when he pointed to the port side.

Since his comments had crackled through the headsets everyone was wearing, Yana looked, too. The fiery glow, the pall of the ash hanging in the air, was plainly visible. The air was still full of turbulence from the initial eruptions, and the lightweight copter shook and tossed about like a Ping-Pong ball.

Beneath them the ground rolled and fissured while ash and smoke pumped from the newly blown cone, born on one of the low mountains to the west. Visibility was poor with airborne smuts that were beginning to build up on the ground. Yana realized that some of the quaking she had felt back at the clinic must have come from this eruption.

Sandwiched as she was between Giancarlo and Ornery, Yana had a clear view between the pilot and Torkel, riding in copilot position. She wasn't at all reassured by the panorama. It looked like someone's terraforming gone wrong, and she thought they would be smarter to make tracks from rather than to.

As the copter drew nearer to the new volcano, a thin line of people emerged from the grayness beneath them and started waving frantically.

Torkel picked up the copilot's microphone. "This is Flying Fish. We have you in sight. Please identify yourselves. Is Dr. Whittaker Fiske with you? Over."

Rather to Yana's surprise, a response came back immediately. "Flying Fish, this is Team Boom Boom. We see you. We have two severely injured people in our party. That's a big Mayday. Please transport to SpaceBase pronto. Over."

The pilot clicked the transmission button on his own microphone. "This is Flying Fish, Boom Boom. Gotcha. We're setting down one-zero-zero meters due east of you. Over."

But Torkel clicked on the copilot's mike again before the stranded team could respond. "Boom Boom, this is Captain Torkel Fiske on the Flying Fish. Is Dr. Whittaker Fiske or any member of his team with you? Over."

"Negative, Cap'n Fiske. Petaybee blew its top about the time the shuttlecraft was landing. The turbulence from the volcano blew the craft off course and we had to initiate evacuation procedures before we could search for survivors. Sorry, sir. Over."

"Boom Boom, Flying Fish here. I'm sorry, too, but you'll have to hang on while we radio SpaceBase for another craft to retrieve you. We need to look for the survivors soonest."

"I can't fly into that, sir," the pilot said, glancing anxiously at Torkel. "It'd clog the jets. Let me pick up the wounded and get ground support."

"Finding my father is number-one priority," Torkel told the pilot in a command tone. Yana couldn't see his face. She wondered briefly if Torkel wanted to save his father because of his importance to the mission, or simply because Dr. Fiske was his father.

"Flying Fish, you can't leave us here. Our wounded are in bad shape and the rest of us are having trouble breathing from the ash. It's smothering in there, sir. Please, at least pick up the wounded. Boom Boom over."

The pilot, heedless of Torkel's commands to fly into the face of the billowing ash clouds, began circling to land. Yana saw Torkel reach for his sidearm, but the pilot had anticipated a problem.

"Sorry, sir," the pilot said, pointing a pistol at Torkel, "but you and the others will have to get out while we load the wounded. I'll call for another aircraft and some ground support for you as soon as we're in the air."

Ornery started to draw his weapon, but his attention was on the pilot, not on Yana. With a well-placed chop to his wrist she numbed his hand and relieved him of his weapon before either he or Giancarlo could react. She stuck the muzzle of the gun under Giancarlo's ear with one hand and extracted his sidearm from his holster with the other in a series of rapid movements that would have made her hand-to-hand combat trainer beam with pride. Ornery leaned menacingly toward her, but his numbed hand wasn't following orders. She shook her head and jabbed Giancarlo meaningfully with the gun.

"This section of the aircraft is secured, pilot," Yana said into her mouthpiece.

The pilot gave her a thumbs-up and said to Torkel, "I'll take your sidearm, too, sir. And just in case you gentlemen want to claim this is mutiny or anything, I'm sure superior-officer types like yourselves are aware that, by chain of command, I am the pilot of this craft. I am therefore the temporary CO. Thanks to you, ma'am."

He set the copter down and the stranded people surged toward it. He lifted a foot and kicked Torkel's door open. "Out you go, Cap'n. You there, Corporal, open your own damn door and disembark. You too, Colonel. Under the circumstances, we'll belay the ladies first shit."

When the others had jumped out of the copter and the pilot turned to watch her go, Yana saw that he was a warrant officer, a green-eyed, lean-jawed man with curly black hair, broad prominent cheekbones, and the slight tilt to his eyes she had begun to identify with people from Petaybee. His nametag said O'SHAY.