Conquerors' Legacy (8 page)

If he indeed still had any children. If Pheylan was, in fact, still alive out there. If Aric and Quinn hadn't been killed looking for him. If Aric and Pheylan's sister, Melinda, trapped on Dorcas by the Conqueror invasion of that world, hadn't also been killed.
Cavanagh laid his head back down on the mattress pad. No-he wouldn't think that way. Couldn't think that way. Wherever they were right now, Aric, Melinda, and Pheylan were alive and well. They had to be.
"Well," Kolchin said, breaking into the silence. "With your permission, sir, I'm going to take another look around the area. After that I'll see about breakfast."
"All right," Cavanagh nodded. "Thank you."
"No trouble," Kolchin assured him. "Don't hesitate to shout if there are any problems." Drawing his flechette pistol and checking the action, he turned and disappeared into the night.
With a tired sigh Cavanagh balanced his pen torch across his chest and dug his plate out of his pouch. Keying to the proper section, he began to read through his notes.
Kolchin's voice jolted Cavanagh from a light doze. "Here he comes."
Cavanagh sat up, blinking against the late-morning sunlight, and looked out across the rolling waters of Sereno Strait. In the far distance, low to the water, he could see the dark landmass of Puerto Simone Island; between him and the island were perhaps twenty boats, ranging from an impressively large passenger cruiser down to three- and four-man fishing boats. One of the latter was heading directly toward them. "You've spotted him?" he asked Kolchin.
"Yes," Kolchin confirmed, binoculars pressed to his face. "He came up from belowdecks for a minute-looked like he was giving the crew last-minute docking instructions. Three others in the crew, all Avuirli."
Cavanagh looked out at the approaching boat, shading his eyes with one hand. "I hope Bokamba didn't make a major deal about the message, one way or the other. You know how excited Avuirli get about anything that even sniffs of intrigue."
"Actually, that's what made him a better choice than the other miners who were heading back that day," Kolchin said, still studying the boat. "If he even suspects there's more to this than a couple of fellow sap miners looking up an old friend, we'll know it from two meters away. Farther if we're downwind."
"Except that everyone else will know it, too."
"Only if they're paying attention," Kolchin said. "Most people I've met don't take Avuirli very seriously." He handed Cavanagh the binoculars. "I'd better get down to the dock. I'll signal when it's safe for you to join us."
Keeping low, Kolchin headed off through the shoreline bushes, winding his way down toward the little cove below. He was waiting on the dock when the boat arrived, catching the line one of the crew threw to him and helping tie it up. Piltariab appeared on deck and hopped down to the dock, gesticulating toward Kolchin with typical Avuirlian expansiveness.
For a few minutes the two of them talked as the crew hauled six backpacks ashore and laid them neatly out on the dock beside Piltariab. Then, with a brief exchange of words and gestures between all the Avuirli, the crew cast off the lines and turned their boat back out into the strait.
Kolchin waved good-bye; and as he did so, his left hand curved briefly into the "all-clear" signal. Shutting off the binoculars and packing them back into their case, Cavanagh headed down, keeping behind the bushes and groaning silently at freshly reawakened muscle aches.
Kolchin was talking as he came around the last group of bushes. "-fell a little behind on the way here. Ah; here he is."
"Greetings, Moo Sab Piltariab," Cavanagh said, gesticulating an Avuirlian salutation and casually sniffing the air. Piltariab's aroma seemed the same as he remembered it from their last meeting. A good sign. "How was your trip to the island?"
"Very good indeed, Moo Sab Stymer," Piltariab said, returning the gesture, his fragrance going a little more rose petal as he did so. "I was just saying to Moo Sab Plex how wonderfully rich and varied the aromas of the island are."
"They certainly are," Cavanagh agreed. "Were you able-?"
"Of course, you Humans are so poorly equipped to appreciate it," Piltariab went on as if Cavanagh hadn't spoken. "Your cooking alone shows that. Though I must say that sometimes your heavy-handed approach to food seasoning can be quite invigorating."
"I've often thought that myself," Cavanagh said. "Were you able to locate Moo Sab Bokamba?"
"Of course," Piltariab said. "His home is listed in the directory-I merely went there and there he was." He gestured in dreamy memory. "Now,there is a man who understands aromas. His house has some of the most unusual-"
"Ow!" Kolchin snarled under his breath, slapping at the side of his neck. "Do you suppose we could continue this conversation farther inland? These damn sea mites always seem to find me."
"Certainly, Moo Sab Plex," Piltariab said, his nostrils flaring momentarily. "Though personally I don't see what they smell in you. That backpack on the end is yours."
"Our thanks," Kolchin said, picking it up and settling it on his back. "You get everything we asked for?"
"Such little as you asked for," Piltariab sniffed. "Even the Meert-ha in our group asks for more luxuries than you two."
"We're humans of simple taste," Kolchin said. "What about the rest of the money?"
"All there, too," Piltariab assured him, picking up one of the remaining backpacks and looping its carrying straps over his neck, papoose style. "Four hundred twenty-seven poumaries. You did specify NorCoord currency, did you not?"
"Yes, thank you," Cavanagh said. Four hundred twenty-seven poumaries: the fruit of six days of painstakingly harvesting exotic sap from Granparra's hostile plant life. "We appreciate your handling that business for us."
"No difficulty," the Avuire said, picking up the other four packs and arranging them, two per arm, on his wide shoulders. "You have already paid equitably with your assistance to our mining group. You particularly, Moo Sab Plex, with your skill in hunting."
"We thank you," Kolchin said. "You said you'd delivered our message to Moo Sab Bokamba?"
"I did not say so," Piltariab said cheerfully as they left the dock and headed back up the gentle slope toward the forest. "I merely said I had found him. You will be returning to the group with me, will you not?"
"My mistake," Kolchin said. "You met Moo Sab Bokamba. Did you deliver our message?"
"Yes indeed," Piltariab said.
"And was there a reply?"
"Yes indeed," the Avuire said. "It is in your pack. You said you will be returning to the group with me?"
"I did not say so," Kolchin countered, playing the standard Avuirlian word game right back at him. "Actually, I think we're going to move on."
"Ah," Piltariab said, his odor turning lilac and pepper in an aromotional response Cavanagh tentatively decided was resignation or regret. "We will miss your fresh game, Moo Sab Plex. Where now do you mine?"
"A little ways south of here," Kolchin told him. "We found a nice stand of comaran bushes with a nest of paprra vines growing in the middle." He cocked an eyebrow. "We're having a little trouble finding the ripest ones, though. I don't suppose you'd be willing to leave your group for a day or two-come lend us your expertise and Avuirlian nose? For a share of the sap, of course."
Piltariab rumbled deep in his throat sac, his odor shading into something faintly musky. Cavanagh knew that one from long conference-table experience: the aroma of an Avuire thinking. "I would like to, Moo Sab Plex," he said. "But I don't think I should. My group also needs my nose. They will already be waiting for me at the Dungyness River Landing."
Kolchin shrugged. "Well, if you can't, you can't."
"Perhaps in the future it will come to pass," Piltariab said, his five packs bouncing as he shrugged his shoulders. "Though in true honesty, you would do better to rejoin us. You would find more marketable sap along the Dungyness River than in any sixty-four stands of comaran bushes."
"You may be right," Kolchin conceded.
"Yes indeed," Piltariab said, flaring his nostrils. "Avuirlian noses do not deceive, whether they are seeking out ripe sap or confirming that edibles and spices are fresh and tasteworthy." He bounced the packs on his shoulders again for emphasis.
"Of course," Kolchin said. "Perhaps we'll catch up with you in a few days."
"Do so," Piltariab urged, his odor changing again. "Without a good hunter in the group we will have to make more trips to the island to purchase food, and that will create ill temper."
"I imagine so," Kolchin said. "Farewell, Moo Sab Piltariab."
"Farewell, Moo Sab Plex. Farewell, Moo Sab Stymer."
The Avuire turned and headed north through the forest, pulling a large machete from its waist sheath and holding it ready for trouble. "You really wanted him along with us?" Cavanagh asked quietly as they watched him leave.
"No," Kolchin said, taking Cavanagh's arm and leading the way off to their left. "I was mostly curious to see what his response would be to the offer. I'm not sure, but I think someone may have been watching us from one of the other boats."
Cavanagh's stomach tightened painfully. "Bronski's people?"
"Could be," Kolchin said. "I couldn't really see anyone. It was just a feeling I had."
Cavanagh nodded grimly. Petr Bronski. On official government file lists, a lowly assistant liaison with the Commonwealth diplomatic corps. On more private lists a senior officer with NorCoord Military Intelligence. "That's why you got us off the dock."
"Common sense alone would dictate that," Kolchin said. "Here we are."
Hereturned out to be a small tree-topped knoll overlooking the strait and the dock area. "Let me have the binoculars," Kolchin said as he dropped into a crouch. "Keep out of sight."
Cavanagh handed over the binocular case and sat down, easing the backpack off his shoulders as Kolchin went the rest of the way up the knoll on elbows and knees. Sliding his hand under the seal flap, he opened it up.
The card from Bokamba was right on top. Pulling out his plate, Cavanagh inserted the card and, steeling himself, began to read.
And as he did so, some of the weight abruptly lifted from his shoulders.
"They're heading away," Kolchin said, crawling back down the knoll. "I was probably just imagining things." He nodded at the plate. "Good news?"
"Wonderful news," Cavanagh said, handing it to him. "Bokamba says the rescue mission has come back. Pheylan, Aric, and Quinn are all alive and well."
"That's great," Kolchin said, sitting down beside Cavanagh and taking the plate. "Congratulations, sir."
"Thank you," Cavanagh said, leaning back against the knoll and staring up through the trees at the sky. It had worked-the terrible gamble had actually worked.
"Says they're all on Edo," Kolchin said, still reading. "Probably facing court-martial."
"They'll never make it stick," Cavanagh said, shaking his head. "You can't court-martial heroes."
"Tell that to Quinn," Kolchin said dryly. "I see we have a name for the aliens now-we're supposed to call them the Zhirrzh." He paused. "No news here about Melinda."
Cavanagh nodded. "I noticed that too."
"Well, she's in the middle of a war zone," Kolchin pointed out, handing the plate back to Cavanagh and starting to poke through the open pack. "Even Bokamba can't just phone up Peacekeeper Command and ask for a private briefing."
"All the more reason to get off Granparra as soon as we can," Cavanagh said, paging the message down. "He's included an equipment price list... looks like we've got enough money for an infuser. Let's see if he has equally good news about... damn."
"What?" Kolchin asked, looking up.
" 'Don't attempt to come onto the island yet,' " Cavanagh read aloud. " 'There are Peacekeepers all over, collecting equipment for the war effort. I've checked their schedule, and they'll be gone in two days.' "
"That means we should stay out here for three," Kolchin said. "There are always last-minute problems that straggle these things out."
Cavanagh hissed between his teeth. Three more days. Three more days of the dangerous annoyances of the Granparra forest. Three more days of trying not to think of Melinda in the far deadlier danger of a Conqueror war zone.
But if it had to be, then it had to be. All this waiting would be for nothing if they made it to the island only to trip over a Peacekeeper squad on the lookout for them. "All right," he sighed, keying the message off and closing the plate. "Three days. But no more."
"Fine," Kolchin said briskly, standing up and brushing bits of leaves off his clothing. "And in the meantime we might as well earn a few more poumaries. You might be interested in buying an actual restaurant meal once we get to the island."
"Good point," Cavanagh agreed, the taste of the previous evening's roast grooma coming back as he struggled to his feet.
"Besides," Kolchin said, the smile fading, "I think we should go a little deeper into the forest."
He threw a glance toward Sereno Strait, hidden by the knoll beside them. "Just in case Iwasn't imagining things."
6
The smell was the first thing Klnn-dawan-a noticed as she descended the shuttle ramp toward the soil of the world the Human-Conquerors called Dorcas. Not an offensive smell, really, but not a particularly pleasant one, either. The lingering essence of the Human-Conquerors who'd once lived in this village, perhaps, or simply the exotic mixture of aromas that always came with a new and unfamiliar ecology.
Or perhaps it was simply that the smells were flavored by her own fear and anxiety. Here, in the middle of a war zone, carrying the dreadfully illegal sample she and Thrr-gilag had taken from Prr't-zevisti'sfsss organ, there was certainly plenty to be afraid of.
But she was here, and Second Commander Klnn-vavgi was waiting for her at the foot of the shuttle ramp as a good cousin ought to, and this was no time for second thoughts. Keeping her head held high, trying not to let her nervousness show, she continued down.
"Greetings to you, third cousin in the family of Klnn," Klnn-vavgi gave the formal clan salutation as she reached the ground. "I am Second Commander Klnn-vavgi; Dhaa'rr."
"I am Searcher Klnn-dawan-a; Dhaa'rr," Klnn-dawan-a said, giving the appropriate response. "I greet you in turn, third cousin, and ask for your hospitality."
"My hospitality is yours," Klnn-vavgi said, flicking his tongue in a smile. "Welcome, Klnn-dawan-a. It's good to see you again."
"And you, Klnn-vavgi," she said, studying his face as she returned the smile. They had met only rarely over the past few cyclics-their two particular branches of the family had never been especially close. But her memories of him were strong enough that she was able to see that the stresses of warfare had added new strains to his face. "You're looking well," she said aloud. "It's been, what, two cyclics since we last saw each other?"