Venus Rising (17 page)

“I give you my word,” Tarik swore, “my most
solemn promise, Gaidar. The Assembly will not harm you after you
have told your story.”

“You have my word also, Gaidar,” Narisa
added. “I will stand with Tarik on this.” She was rewarded by a
warm look from Tarik, but it was not only for his approval that she
had spoken. Despite her earlier reservations, she believed Gaidar’s
story completely. Her doubts had disappeared as she listened to his
straightforward speech. Because of Tarik’s searching questions put
to her about Jurisdiction law, she had some serious concern about
how honorably the Assembly would deal with a Cetan, even one who
brought them information of such monumental importance. But
Gaidar’s story must be told, and for his sake, and Tarik’s, she
would stand with them both no matter what happened when they faced
the Assembly.

“I believe it is ordained,” Gaidar said,
“that I should travel to your Capital. My mother used to tell me
her people believed in going boldly out to meet one’s fate. I will
begin to think of myself as Demarian, and follow that creed.”

“The Demarians are my people, too,” Tarik
said.

“Are they? Then we should be friends. I
believe you are an honest man. I will trust you, and your
lieutenant, if not your Assembly.” Gaidar put out one huge hand.
After a few seconds’ hesitation Tarik put out his own, and to her
astonishment, Narisa watched Commander Tarik Gibal of the
Jurisdiction Service shake hands with a Cetan.

Narisa left the building in the gray early
morning light, leaving Tarik and Gaidar discussing the final
details of their plan to capture the Cetan ship. They would not
miss her for the little while she would be gone, and there were
things she wanted to do before the coming day’s dangerous
events.

She went to Dulan’s grave first, to whisper a
farewell to that last, valiant spirit of the ancient settlement.
Then she went down to the lake shore on the opposite side of the
island from the Cetan shuttle. Here the beach was narrower, the
sand smooth and undisturbed by violence. Tiny waves lapped along
the water’s edge.

Narisa stood still, absorbing the peace and
beauty while the sky turned brighter. She thought back to the first
sunrise over the lake, which she had watched from the mainland.
Everything that had happened since that morning had changed her a
little more, compounding the changes that had begun the moment she
and Tarik had landed on this planet. Now she did not want to leave
it, and that was the biggest change of all. She felt that she and
Tarik belonged here. This world was their home, the place each of
them had been seeking; Tarik deliberately, herself unknowing until
he showed it to her.

She watched the brilliant sunrise streak the
sky with a dazzling array of colors, saw the snow atop the single
distant mountain begin to glow with the golden sunlight, and knew
she wanted to climb that mountain and to explore whatever lay on
the other side. There was a salty sea far beyond the horizon; she
knew as much from the computer. Next to the sea lay the original
settlement. Narisa wanted to see it, and she wanted Tarik beside
her when she did.

“Chon.” Blue-feathered wings fluttered, then
folded against a lustrous blue body. It was the first bird she had
ever seen here, the same one that had saved her from the snake.
Narisa recognized the scar on its beak. Each bird was different
from all the others. If she had had time, she could have learned to
know them all. It was her own fault her time on this planet was
ending, and in that quiet dawn moment Narisa fully recognized all
she was losing by leaving it.

She approached the bird. It waited for her,
cocking its head as she moved nearer. She reached out and stroked
the bird’s wing, as she had done once before, feeling the stiff
flight feathers beneath her fingers. Then, daringly, she touched
the softer feathers of the bird’s chest. It did not move away.
Narisa took another step, coming nearer to stroke the bird from its
throat down along its rich blue body. As she did so, the bird’s
wing came around her, enfolding her against itself. Narisa rested
there, her cheek and one hand against its soft chest. She could see
out of the corner of her eye the bird’s three primitive fingers at
the last joint of the wing, and the long, toothed beak, just
slightly open. She felt no fear at all, only a great sadness at
having to leave creatures she had come to think of as friends, and
this friend in particular. And with her mind open to the bird, she
sensed an understanding, a comprehension on the bird’s part that
she must go and was sad about it.

Return one day.
The thought lay deep
in her mind, and she did not know absolutely if it was herself or
the bird who had put it there.

She heard Tarik calling her. The bird
refolded its wing.

“Good-bye,” Narisa said, her voice breaking
on a sob, and ran back to the building in the center of the
island.

Gaidar knew everything about the Cetan ship.
It was large, with plenty of cargo space for the booty the Cetans
loved so much, but it could easily be piloted with a small crew.
The captain remained aboard with three crew members.

“The smaller the crew,” Gaidar told them,
“the greater the profits for each crew member. That will be to our
advantage. We will not have so many Cetans to overcome. But be
warned, the artificial gravity aboard the ship is somewhat greater
than you have been used to on this planet. You will have to adjust
yourselves to it as quickly as possible.”

Tarik, Narisa and Gaidar were well armed when
they went aboard the shuttle. Narisa had felt a thrill of fear at
the sight of an armed Cetan, but had agreed with Tarik that Gaidar
would need to defend himself against his former crew mates.

With Narisa navigating, Tarik piloting and
Gaidar handling communications with the main ship by pretending to
be the lost leader of the shuttle crew, they docked the vessel with
the larger Cetan ship. According to the plan, Gaidar stepped out
first, force-gun in hand. Before the single crew member posted at
the docking deck to monitor the return of the shuttle could
recognize him and give any alarm, he was stunned into
unconsciousness.

“Only three left,” Tarik said, helping Gaidar
to bind the Cetan securely. “Let’s lower that to two.”

Gaidar stepped to a communications panel in
the nearest bulkhead and, still mimicking the voice of the shuttle
commander, called for another crew member to help unload he
shuttle, mentioning a great deal of heavy and very valuable
plunder. The man appeared a few minutes later, and promptly joined
the first Cetan, unconscious and tightly bound.

They all paused on the docking deck for a
while so Tarik and Narisa could begin to adjust to the heavier
gravity. They allowed as little time as possible, for they did not
want the delay to cost them the element of surprise they still
enjoyed. Gaidar had drawn them a diagram of the interior of the
ship, and Tarik and Narisa had memorized it. They located the
bridge with no trouble, while Gaidar made a quick check of the rest
of the ship to make certain they would have no unexpected
problems.

At the entrance to the bridge, by their
prearranged plan, Narisa silently handed her force-gun to Tarik and
went in alone. The first officer was there, lolling idly in the
captain’s chair. Narisa recognized him from Gaidar’s description.
He came to immediate attention at the unusual sight of a woman on
the bridge. He stood up, one hand reaching for the communicator
button, but he crumpled before his fingers made contact with it,
stunned into unconsciousness when Tarik used Narisa’s
force-gun.

“There is only the captain left now,” Gaidar
announced as he joined them. He watched Tarik tie up the officer
while Narisa retrieved her force-gun. “He is mine to take.”

“This is too easy.” Her original distrust of
all Cetans returning, Narisa wondered if they were being caught in
a trap. Her concern was dispelled a moment later, as well as her
lingering doubts about Gaidar, when the captain himself arrived on
the bridge. He was a short, dark man, with huge shoulders. The rank
smell of his unwashed body filled the small bridge of his ship. He
carried a huge Cetan hand weapon.

“So,” the captain snarled, “you still live,
do you, Gaidar? Not for long. Stand away from those instruments. I
don’t want to damage them when I kill you. Where are my other men
from the shuttle? I’ve been calling the docking deck and getting no
answer.”

“They are gone forever,” Gaidar told him,
clutching his force-gun and edging farther away from the menacing
captain. “You will be, too, if you cause me any trouble. I would
enjoy repaying you for all the indignities you brought on me.”

“I am only sorry,” the captain said, “that I
did not kill you the first day you came on board.”

As Gaidar slid along the panel of
instruments, Narisa realized what he was trying to do. Tarik was
hidden behind the captain’s chair, where he was down on his knees
while tying up the first officer. Narisa was to the right of the
hatch the captain had used, pressed flat against the metal
bulkhead. The captain had come in the hatch, seen Gaidar, and
focused all his attention on him. He had not noticed Tarik or
Narisa. Gaidar kept moving away so that the captain, following him,
had his back to the other two.

Narisa lifted her force-gun. It was a
difficult shot. If she missed, she would almost certainly hit
Gaidar. But she had to take the chance; the captain was going to
kill him, and would do it at any second. Narisa fired.

Something was wrong with her weapon. The
button clicked loudly as she pressed it, and she felt a slight
recoil, but the captain did not fall. Instead, he turned on her,
his huge weapon poised.

“A female!” The captain leered at her. “And
armed. Too bad. I would have enjoyed raping you, but now I’ll have
to kill you instead.”

Then everything happened at once. Gaidar
fired his own force-gun at the captain, but it worked no better
than Narisa’s had, and in frustration he brought the barrel down on
the back of the captain’s head. At the same time Tarik fired from
his position behind the captain’s chair. The captain’s weapon went
off, plowing a hole in the inside bulkhead just above Narisa’s left
shoulder. She was knocked to the deck by the force of the impact
and by the pull of the ship’s gravity.

Narisa shook her head, trying to clear her
senses. Gaidar was sitting on the captain’s back holding the man’s
arms together while Tarik bound them. On Gaidar’s face was the
broadest grin Narisa had ever seen.

“Narisa, are you all right?” Tarik asked,
pulling the cord tighter around the captain’s wrists.

“I think so.” She rubbed her left shoulder.
“The force-guns didn’t work.”

“I noticed. We must have done something wrong
with them. Perhaps they need recharging, or it could be the change
in gravity. We’ll tend to them later. Gaidar, get off his back. You
may have the honor of carrying him to the brig.”

“They call it the hole,” Gaidar said, still
grinning. “It is self-contained, and no one can escape from it.
Prisoners are one to a cell, each with its own piped-in supply of
moldy food and bad water. It is constructed so that if anyone tries
to escape, his cell is automatically ejected from the ship with no
air supply. No one tries. I spent a few days in one of those cells
early in the voyage. It’s the most efficient section of the
ship.”

“It sounds ideal.” Tarik gave a harsh laugh.
“I suggest we deposit each of our four friends in his own cell.
Narisa, can you help us?”

“Yes.” She was on her feet again, a little
shaky, but unhurt.

It was difficult to drag the unconscious men
to the brig. Gaidar, being used to the ship’s gravity, tossed the
captain over his shoulder and stalked through the ship with him,
but it took both Tarik and Narisa to carry the first officer. Once
they had reached the brig, it required little time to seal the
captain and his three crew members into their cells. When that was
done, Narisa, Tarik and Gaidar returned to the bridge and prepared
to leave orbit.

“The equipment is easy enough to understand,”
Narisa reported from her seat at the navigator’s station, “except
for this panel. Do you know what it is, Gaidar?”

“Starthruster,” Gaidar replied promptly.

“You will have to tell Narisa how to use it,”
Tarik said. “Otherwise, we won’t reach the Capital in time to warn
the Assembly.”

“I understand.” Gaidar made no protest about
revealing information he had planned to keep secret a while longer.
Perhaps he had concluded by now that his two companions were
trustworthy, Narisa thought as he leaned over her shoulder. While
Tarik stood on her other side, watching, Gaidar quickly explained
all he knew of Starthruster’s function. “I have never used it
myself, but before I fell afoul of the captain, I was often on the
bridge, and I watched the navigator carefully.”

“Is he among the men in the brig?” Tarik
asked. “We might be able to convince him to supply more
information.”

“He’s gone,” Gaidar told them. “He was the
leader of the shuttle crew.”

“Well, then.” Tarik drew a deep breath. “We
will take our chances on Narisa’s skills, which are brilliant.”

Narisa warmed at the compliment. She felt
remarkably calm as she plotted their course away from the Empty
Sector and on to the Capital. Although she knew that nothing in the
Empty Sector ever stayed the same for long, she committed to memory
the exact coordinates of the planet they had just left in case, she
told herself, she ever had a chance to return. She blinked away
unexpected moisture that suddenly filled her eyes, and took the
Cetan ship out of orbit. Then, following Gaidar’s instructions, she
activated Starthruster. He had told her that the speed made
possible by the device would overcome most of the navigational
eccentricities of the Empty Sector. In that he was correct. They
were out of the Empty Sector in two hours.