Shifter Planet (6 page)

Chapter Six

T
wo days later Rhodry stood at Cristobal’s side as Admiral Nakata offered an official apology on behalf of the entire United Earth Fleet for the recent tragedy. Amanda was in Nakata’s party, standing stiff and formal, two steps behind her leader. She didn’t say a word, didn’t so much as glance in his direction.

Cristobal listened somberly, sitting on his throne-like chair and not stirring until Nakata finished speaking. And then he rose, took the single step down from the dais and waited until the Earth admiral came forward and offered his hand. They shook solemnly and to all appearances that was it.

He knew what others didn’t, that Cristobal and Nakata had already met privately before this public display that was so necessary. Every person on Harp was reeling from the damage that had been done, but none more than the guildsmen who felt the forest’s pain as if it were their own. It took a concentrated effort to shunt it aside enough to focus on other things. And all of Harp was agitating for blood from the Earthers. The Green was a part of all of them.

Cristobal and Nakata’s earlier meeting had focused primarily on the details of the fleet’s departure. Neither of them wanted to repudiate the earlier agreement regarding the shuttle base and Harp’s inclusion in Earth’s regular trade route. Both had agreed that some acceleration of the timetable was in order. They’d agreed that Nakata’s fleet would break orbit within the week, with a small team of techs remaining behind to finish installation of the computer center and train Harpers in its use and maintenance.

He wasn’t thrilled with that last part. No Earthers on Harp would have been better. The still-raw wound in the Green was evidence of that, if nothing else. But no one had invited his opinion, and even he couldn’t deny the benefits the new computers would bring to the planet.

With the formal ceremony complete, Nakata gathered his people, including Amanda, and departed without fanfare. A suitable Guild escort was waiting outside to make sure they got safely back to their shuttle and off the planet. The
safely
part applying more to the planet’s well-being than to any threat to their visitors.

He watched them go, happy to see the back end of the fleet, wishing he and Amanda had parted on better terms. Or that they’d had more time together before she left. Maybe it was better this way. In a few days, she’d be light years away, and that would be it.

Cristobal spun on his heel as soon as the big doors closed on the Earthers. “Fionn, Rhodry,” he snapped, “with me.”

He shot Fionn a questioning look. The returning shrug said he didn’t know any better than Rhodry what his father wanted.

“Close the door, Fionn,” Cristobal said when they joined him in his office. He sat behind his desk, his chair pushed back, one hand on his belt knife which bore the Guild insignia. Rhodry had one just like it.

Fionn sank into one of the big chairs in front of the desk, draped over it like a big cat, while Rhodry remained standing. His gut was telling him that whatever Cristobal had called them here to discuss wasn’t going to be welcome news.

“You know we signed an agreement with Admiral Nakata,” Cristobal said without preamble.

He and Fionn nodded.

“Harp gets added to the Earth trade route,” Fionn supplied.

“Which means little since we’ve nothing to trade,” Rhodry added.

“True,” Cristobal agreed. “But we
are
getting the new computer facility, and that will be to our benefit. Nakata’s people will also be downloading their rather substantial scientific and historical databases. Our science and tech types are thrilled.”

He wondered what the hell any of that had to do with him, then reined in his impatience. If it mattered to Harp, it mattered to him.

“You may also know that some of Nakata’s people will remain behind.”

“A very few, to finish the installation and train our own people,” Fionn recited, letting his own impatience show.

Cristobal gave his son a long look before continuing. “This morning, Admiral Nakata provided the roster of personnel who will be remaining. And guess who’s on it?”

He didn’t have to guess. The sinking sensation in his stomach was already telling him. “Fuck,” he swore, even as part of him growled his satisfaction at the news.

“The trees
like
Amanda,” Fionn said, sounding all too pleased, which he didn’t like at all.

“Maybe that’s why she needs to go,” he said quietly. “She’ll dig into things no one is supposed to know, least of all someone not of Harp.”

Cristobal shrugged. “I agree. Unfortunately, I couldn’t object to her without giving Nakata a damn good reason. Without it, the objection itself might make him take a closer look. She clearly hasn’t shared her unique talents with any of her own people, which I find curious. It also makes me think better of her. Besides, Fionn’s right. The Green wants her here.”

“She’s going to be a problem,” Rhodry said glumly, thinking mostly of himself, although he didn’t say so.

“Oh, come on, Rhodry. She’s delightful,” Fionn said, leaping up with animal grace from his slouch over the chair.

“She may be delightful, Fionn,” Cristobal said sharply, “but Rhodry’s right. She’s a complication, and I don’t want her left alone. We all know the trees like her. What we
don’t
know is
why
. And until we do, I don’t want her going out there alone. I don’t care what she does in the city, but when she goes into the Green, I want one of you two with her at all times. Tell her it’s for her own safety, tell her whatever she needs to hear, just keep an eye on her.”

“She’s not going to like that.”

“As much as I hate to agree with Rhodi here,” Fionn said with uncharacteristic seriousness, “I must. She’ll fight us at every turn.”

“Then I trust the two of you will figure something out. See to it.”

He and Fionn stood side by side as Cristobal left without a backward look.

“He’s met Amanda, right?” Fionn asked.

“Apparently not,” Rhodry said.

“I’m sure I saw them shake hands.”

He snorted a laugh. “I think it takes more than that.”

Fionn sighed. “Well, you’re going to have to find a way to convince her it’s in her best interest to let us tag along.”

“Me? I think you should do it. She likes
you
.”

“It wasn’t me she was dancing with.”

“I just happened to be the one standing there. She was a guest.”

“You spent the whole evening with her. You must have gained some insight.”

“Yeah, enough to know I’m the last person she’ll want following her around. And that she will
never
go along with us babysitting her every time she wants to leave the city.”

Fionn slapped his shoulder, as if they’d reached a decision. “So, we won’t tell her.”

“Right. We’ll simply ignore the Ardrigh’s orders.”

“I didn’t say we wouldn’t watch her. We’ll do it from the trees where she can’t see us, and we’ll get a couple of the lads to help us out. She’ll never know we’re there.”

He nodded in agreement. Although, privately, he didn’t think Amanda was going to make it that easy.

Chapter Seven

United Earth Flagship James T.

A
manda walked down the familiar corridor of the flagship, noting as she never had before the path worn into the royal blue weave of the carpet, testimony to the hundreds, probably thousands, of feet that had passed this way since the deck’s last retrofit. Her own feet were responsible for a good part of that wear, rushing in triumph or dragging with exhaustion. Funny how everyone seemed to walk the same few inches of carpet right down the center.

She was dragging her feet today, analyzing carpet wear instead of facing what she knew she had to do. When the door to the suite she shared with her mother presented itself, she thumbed the lock with reluctant determination. The door slid open.

“You’re leaving?”

Amanda looked up, dismayed to find her mother waiting for her in the hallway. She must have come directly from Sick Bay, because she still wore her pristine white lab coat, her long dark hair tucked into a neat twist behind her head. Equally dark eyes regarded her in silent accusation.

Amanda cringed. She’d hoped to arrive at the suite before her mother, hoped to have everything packed, so she could make a clean getaway after what she’d known would be an uncomfortable and inevitable scene.

Coward
. “Well, strictly speaking, I’m staying and
you’re
leaving,” she joked lamely.

“Amanda,” Elise scolded.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I just found out for sure today, right before I shuttled down with Nakata for his meeting with Cristobal. How did you—”

Admiral Leveque stepped out of the living room to stand behind her mother, one hand going protectively to her shoulder.

“I see,” Amanda said, giving Leveque a resentful glance.

He shrugged negligently. “I was in Sick Bay checking the status of some medical supplies for the colony and happened to see your mother.”

She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him for one minute, and ducked into her bedroom without another word, closing the door behind her. She opened her closet doors with a snap and pulled down her single duffle bag, throwing it onto the bed as she surveyed the room. Not much to show for twenty-five years of living, more than ten of them on this very ship. A few mementoes from places she’d visited. A couple of images that she’d liked well enough to print out and frame, including one of her and her mother from two years ago when she’d made full lieutenant. One didn’t accumulate many possessions living in space. There wasn’t enough room for it, not even on the flagship of a fleet admiral.

She heard her mother’s footsteps in the hallway a moment before the door slid open.

“Amanda.”

She turned. Leveque was still there, hovering in the background, but Elise stepped away from him, crossing the threshold and letting the door close behind her.

Amanda felt a stab of satisfaction and pride. Elise Sumner had no need to lean on anyone, and most especially not when it came to dealing with the daughter she’d raised to be just as fiercely independent as she was.

“Talk to me, sweetling,” her mom said, reaching up to smooth a stray hair back into Amanda’s braid.

Tears threatened. Even though she desperately wanted to remain on Harp, she was going to miss her mother. Impatient with herself, she drew a breath to explain.

“We’re installing a new computer facility on the planet with shields heavy enough to protect against the system’s solar activity, which has been a major problem for the colonists up until now. Most of the fleet’s databases have been downloaded, everything we can share anyway. A small team has to stay behind to maintain the facility and train the locals.”

“And you volunteered.”

“I did.”

“Their science is centuries out of date,” Elise objected. “It will take—”

“Their
natural
sciences are excellent, though. Fionn says—”

“Is
that
what this is really about, Amanda? He’s a good-looking boy, but—”

“Mom. First of all, Fionn’s hardly a boy. And it doesn’t matter anyway, because you know me better than that. This isn’t about him, it’s about me. Harp is special, I can—” She cut her words off before she blurted out the truth about Harp, about how the trees
sang
to her. She didn’t want anyone in the fleet to know, because she knew what would happen if they found out. Hordes of scientists would descend on the planet, prying into its secrets, shredding it down to DNA, and destroying the very thing that made it unique.

“I can’t
breathe
up here sometimes,” she said quietly, trying to explain something her mother would never understand.

Elise regarded her silently for several minutes, the look on her face a mix of fondness and something else. Something she’d never seen before. “You’re just like him, you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said softly. “Your father was a good man. I wouldn’t have loved him otherwise.” She stepped closer. “Sit down, sweetling. It hurts my neck to look up at you.” Her proud smile took away any sting the words might have had as she sat next to Amanda on the bed.

“This,” she said, shaking her head, “is proof of nature over nurture. How I managed to raise a daughter who despises ship living—”

“I don’t despise it,” Amanda protested instantly. “I loved growing up out here. I’ve witnessed amazing things and seen more of the universe than most people would see in a hundred lifetimes.” She drew a frustrated breath. “It just gets to me sometimes. Recycled air, artificial light, the long corridors and silent doors. It’s like it’s all been sucked clean until there’s nothing
real
to it anymore.”

“I know.”

She looked at her mother in surprise.

“Oh, I never feel that way,” Elise conceded. “But I know you do. So did your father.” Her glance fell on the open duffle, then she stood and began wandering the room much as Amanda had earlier. “I need to tell you something. About your father.”

Her earlier surprise was doubled. They
never
talked about her father. Not since she was about eight years old when she’d finally grown tired of asking questions that were never answered.

Elise glanced at her, and then away, as if nervous. “He was an earth witch, you know,” she said with studied casualness.

She stared. “A what?”

“That’s what they called it on his home planet. Earth witch. On old Earth, they sometimes called it a ‘green thumb.’”

She had heard of that in her studies as a child, and didn’t understand why Elise was making such an issue out of it. “So, he was good with growing things,” she said. “A lot of people are. Every member of the fleet’s botany department, for example.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Elise said slowly, finally sitting down to face her once more. “He could make anything grow. Anything. He could coax a dead plant to life, could double the harvest in a single season just by wandering the fields. I doubted, naturally. I’m a scientist. Until I saw with my own eyes what he could do. There was no other explanation.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I meant to tell you, when you were older. Then I saw how much you loved going dirtside, how you never missed an opportunity to visit a planet. It didn’t even matter which one. If it had dirt, you were there.” She reached out and took Amanda’s hand, squeezing her fingers. “And I was selfish. I was afraid I’d lose you, that you’d choose him.”

“Mom, I’d never—”

“I know that. Mostly,” she admitted, with a fleeting smile. “And yet here you are, leaving me for that planet.”

Amanda stifled a dismayed sigh. She wanted to tell her mother the truth, to explain
why
she had to stay on this particular planet. But her mother was also Dr. Elise Sumner, Chief Medical Officer. And Dr. Sumner would never be able to resist siccing a whole team of scientists on such a rare phenomenon—even if it meant poking and prodding her own daughter.

On the other hand, this little history lesson might explain why
she
seemed to be the only one it was happening to. Well, the only fleet person anyway. She still believed Rhodry and Fionn, and probably some of the others, could hear and understand the trees a hell of a lot better than she did—the members of their so-called “guild” maybe?

“I have to stay, Mom,” she said almost apologetically. “I
want
to. At least for now.”

“For now,” Elise repeated. “Well, that’s something, I guess. If you’re going to be living down there, though, I want to be damn sure their medical facilities are up to snuff. And from what I’ve seen, they’re a few centuries out of date.”

“The first few years here were brutal,” she explained, feeling the need to defend them. “They ran out of almost everything, and they’d lost so much of their equipment and materials in the initial crash landing, not to mention people. Families and loved ones, specialists of all kinds. They had to prioritize. Simply surviving became everything.”

“I know, sweetling. I understand.” Her mother stood up and rested her cheek on top of Amanda’s head, one hand stroking down the length of her braid. She straightened, then kissed her on the forehead and both cheeks before walking over to the closed door, where she paused with one hand on the control.

“You will write to me, Amanda,” she said, looking back with her best stern mother expression. “At least once a month. And I will write to you. It may take months for the dispatches to wend their way through the various uplinks until we find each other, but we will do it anyway. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she managed to choke past a throat thick with emotion.

“I will not lose you,” Elise said. She punched the door open and stepped into the hallway, and Amanda heard her mutter as she walked away, “Not you, too.”

A
manda stood on the landing field, watching as technicians loaded the last few pieces of equipment that were going back up to the ship. Everything the fleet was leaving behind was already secure inside the blocky, gray building the engineers had constructed to hold the new computer facility. The enclosure was functional, and ugly as sin. It stood out among the other buildings of the capital city like a troll among elves. She knew it was necessary, that the dull walls and reinforced ceiling carried heavy shielding to protect the delicate new equipment. But she couldn’t help wincing guiltily every time she looked at it, as if she was somehow personally responsible for bringing this visual blight to Harp.

The people of Harp hadn’t complained, though. Most of them seemed thrilled with the new facility, as well as the fact that the planet would now be on the regular trade route. In practical terms, that meant a supply shuttle would visit only once most years, twice on rare occasions. Cristobal Martyn had made it clear that Harp would not be open to tourism of any kind, and they didn’t have enough exportable goods to justify any meaningful commercial traffic. No one on the planet seemed to mind that either.

Cristobal had issued a carefully worded statement on behalf of the Harp government, acknowledging the gift of the computer facility, and welcoming the renewed contact with Earth. And all while somehow managing to avoid even the tiniest hint of regret that the fleet was moving on, or that future contact would be brief and infrequent.

In fact, while the people of Harp had been kind, if not exactly welcoming, to Amanda and the rest of the team staying behind, she was convinced that they could hardly wait for everyone else to be gone. Rhodry had certainly made no bones about how he felt that day in the forest. He wanted them gone. And after that disaster, she could hardly blame him. Although, she’d wondered more than once if he knew she was among those staying. It was impossible to think that he wouldn’t, but he hadn’t sought her out. Nor had he said a word to her on the few occasions they’d been in the same room since.

She thought about all of this as she watched Guy Wolfrum fussing over some last minute piece of cargo being left behind. He was dancing around the poor guys carrying it down the ramp, as though it contained his most precious possessions. Which maybe it did. She shook her head in renewed amazement.
Commander
Wolfrum was now just plain Guy Wolfrum, PhD. She’d found out just this morning that he would be remaining on Harp along with her and two computer techs. That would have been surprise enough, but apparently Nakata had objected to his decision, and so Wolfrum had resigned his military commission in order to stay.

Speculation was rampant that Wolfrum had found one of those friendly Harp women her mother had warned her about that very first day, and that he was staying behind for love.

She hoped the rumor was true, because the last thing she needed or wanted on Harp was a frustrated former fleet officer looking for someone to boss around.

“Lieutenant.”

And speaking of bossy fleet officers… She spun around and snapped a sharp salute. “Admiral Leveque, sir.”

“At ease, Lieutenant.” He studied her face, squinting as if he thought he could discern who she really was if he stared hard enough. Or maybe he just thought if he squinted he could pretend she was someone else. Whichever it was, when he finally spoke, it was with obvious reluctance.

“I’ve made the Leveque corporate communications network available to Elise,” he told her, radiating stiff disapproval. “It should be more reliable and faster than the military net, especially this far out. We maintain a considerable shipping presence along this galactic arm, and the ships bounce communications rather efficiently. It will make it easier for the two of you to stay in touch.”

She concealed her surprise. “That was very kind of you, sir. Thank you.”

He was silent a few more minutes, staring over her shoulder and pretending concern over some detail of the unloading process. Finally, he looked at her directly and said, “She deserved better.”

She blinked. “Sir?”

“Elise. She deserved better than what your father gave her.”

The main thing her father had given Elise was Amanda herself. She granted Leveque the benefit of the doubt, however, and assumed he was referring to her father’s decision to let Elise go back into space without him, and to raise their child alone.