"Just listen to yourself, warrior, and you might figure that out on your own." Martha's placid tone drifted up from the huge computer console in the center of the room. "Or is so much emotion coming out of you a normal occurrence?"
"Are you blushing, Dalden?" Shanelle asked with some surprise.
Most blushes wouldn't be noticed with their identical golden skin tone; they had to be severe to show up at all. But Sha‑Ka'ani warriors, who rarely blushed in the first place, had such natural control of their emotions that they wouldn't allow something so mundane as a blush to reveal emotions they maintained they didn't possess. They could feel embarrassment; you just had to know a warrior really well to guess when they might be experiencing it. Shannelle, as Dalden's twin, qualified for knowing him well.
But Martha had a whole list of complaints on her own agenda, and wasn't waiting for Dalden to answer insignificant questions from his sister. "You were supposed to be giving me a tour, not taking one yourself," Martha reminded him. "You were supposed to make contact with their leader. She isn't their leader."
'I did not initiate contact with her."
"You didn't try to end it, either."
"She wanted me."
"Sooooo... what!" was stretched out about five times longer than the words would take to say normally, just to stress how little that mattered in the scheme of things to Martha. "Women want you all the time Dalden. Since when do you go haywire over it? And don't try to deny it when I am monitoring your vital stats."
"You're blushing again, Dalden,'' Shanelle pointed out, trying to keep from grinning.
She'd been there all along, and had been listening to Martha rant and rave about everything Dalden was doing wrong on the planet before she lost patience completely and brought him back to the ship.
They had arrived yesterday. Since Dalden was determined to hold himself responsible for retrieving the Altering Rods, Tedra had finally given in and supported his decision. Her support meant that Martha had to go along, though, as well as all the warriors who had escorted them to Kystran. Brock could have handled it and was already in control of the Androvia, but with one of her "babies" going into deep space without her, Tedra would only trust Martha at the helm.
So the two Mock lls had traded ships, With Brock taking Tedra home to Sha‑Ka'an in the Rover, a short enough trip so Challen wouldn't complain too much that she'd made it alone. What hadn't been expected was that Falon would insist on going after Jorran as well, especially when he so disliked space travel.
Martha had expected it, though, pointing out that Falon hadn't gotten anywhere close to evening the score with Jorran after the High King tried to kill him. He had simply had more important things to deal with first, like chasing after his lifemate. But now he'd like to get his hands on Jorran to finish that long‑ago fight more properly.
Of course, with Falon going along for the ride, Shanelle insisted on going, too, and although Tedra had objected most strenuously, Falon didn't, so that settled that. But understanding the ShaKa'ani way of life, as well as Martha's advanced and unique nature, Shanelle was the perfect buffer between Martha and the warriors aboard the ship. The warriors might get along well with Brock, who had been created for their shodan Challen, so he was one of them. That couldn't be said for Martha, who had a tendency to provoke a warrior's placid nature without even trying.
It had taken two months and twenty‑three days to reach their destination, the no longer rumored planet in that sector of the universe a verified fact now. But because the humanoids on the planet were advanced enough to have equipment that could see their ship when it neared them, even disguised as it was to look like a common piece of space debris, albeit a big piece, they couldn't remain hovering over the planet for more than a few seconds.
This was gotten around by Martha taking the ship down to the surface of the planet at incredible speed, halting it Just before impact, and lowering it into a large body of water where it wouldn't be discovered. If it had been seen, it would be assumed a meteor had fallen and disintegrated before reaching the surface.
This was the planet that Jorran had come to, though his ship didn't remain near it for very long. His first impression was that this planet wasn't suitable for his purpose, and he left to find another. Martha didn't deal just with first impressions, however, and as it turned out Jorran's ship had merely moved to a place of concealment behind the planet's single moon.
It had been easy to track and keep up with Jorran's ship, and the Androvia was designed to avoid being tracked, so Jorran wouldn't know that he had been followed. Concealing his ship in the area was a clear indication that he had gone down to the planet himself. Scanning his ship proved it had fewer bodies on it than it had arrived with. And having sneaked the android Corth II onto it to install a one‑way data probe was keeping Martha apprised of Jorran's men's positions on the planet, as well as giving her other pertinent information that Jorran was sending back to his ship.
Fortunately, the captain of Jorran's ship was proving to be a nosy sort who insisted on being kept apprised of the situation, and from a few choice words dropped during a communication, Martha was able to determine that the ship and crew were merely hired, and there was a time limit remaining on their employ, and most of that had been used up getting here. But Jorran wasn't going to dismiss them until the very end, in case things didn't go as he planned. It did, however, force him to make his move within a month, or give up and go home.
The rest of the time since their arrival yesterday had been spent gathering information about the planet and its people, and creating the Sublims necessary to speak the language. Corth II had come in handy for that as well, being sent to the planet's surface first to find an unused computer terminal that Martha could be connected to, and even Martha was impressed at the wealth of information she was finding.
"They might not be advanced to high‑tech standards, but they are excellent recordkeepers and have at least mastered global computer connections, so that only one terminal is needed to access everything I require. But it's still in the primitive stages, which is why it's taking so long to access their vast stores of information."
That had been Martha's remark yesterday. By last night she had been complaining, "Did I say they were advanced? I have never encountered anything as slow as the machines those people call computers." She was still collecting data.
"Okay, we're going to take it from the top again," Martha said now. "And see if it sinks in this time. They are an aggressive, warminded people up there on the surface. Their history is filled with violence from their very beginnings, and they think nothing of wholesale slaughter. And although the concept of life on other planets fascinates them, it also terrifies them, so Probables tell me that while there might be some of them who would greet offworlders with open arms, most of them win go out of their way to destroy any visitors. They just aren't ready to be discovered yet. Have 1 made that clear enough yet?"
"The woman did not have war on her mind," Dalden pointed out stubbornly.
"We could hear perfectly well what she had on her mind, just as we know perfectly well what was on yours, all of which is redundant. I am stressing a point here, big guy, if you haven't figured that out yet, and if you don't get it by the time I finish, then you are not going back to the surface. Are you listening yet?"
"Is it possible not to, when in your presence?" Dalden replied stiffly.
A very good imitation of a sigh filled the control room, loud and prolonged. "We don't have time for bruised warrior egos, Dalden. My job is to get you back home in one piece and still breathing. If you can manage to recover the rods as well, then you're happy, Tedra's happy, and I'm happy. Which means I'll help you to do that. None of which means you have time for hanky‑panky."
The third blush was immediate and quite vivid. Dalden had no trouble understanding the "ancients' language" that his mother and Martha both used, having grown up hearing its use. Tedra had always been fascinated by the ancient history of her people,
when most Kystrani couldn't care less, and only recent history was still taught in their learning systems. Hanky‑panky, one of those ancient words, equated to Sha‑Ka'ani fun, or what was more universally known as sharing sex.
"Now, from the top once more, no fraternizing with the local species," Martha continued. "If even one of those humans figures out that you aren´t one of them, you'd have billions of people trying to wipe you from their memories, and given their history, that means kill you on sight. They won't care that you're here to help them. They won't care about the wealth of advanced knowledge you could introduce them to. They would consider you a threat to their survival, not a benefit, and exterminate you accordingly."
Shanelle frowned at that point. "You said he'd have no trouble passing for one of them, Martha, as long as he left his sword on the ship.“
“Nor will he, since they come in all sizes and shapes themselves, even Sha‑Ka'ani warrior size. But that's if they aren't already looking for him."
"Why would they be?" Shanelle asked. "Didn't you say that they would have to conclude that we disintegrated, if they noticed us at all, because no disturbance of their water was caused by us?"
"Correct. They have viewing devices to see farther into space than the naked eye can, which means they could have seen us coming if battleships of this line weren't equipped with a wide selection of disguisers. It also means they probably did see Jorran´s ship if it hovered long enough above them and if one of the operators of those viewers was paying close attention, which fortunately isn't a guarantee, since they are operated by humans, rather than by computers."
"So if they are looking for anyone, it would be Jorran, not Dalden. "
"Yes. But that means that Dalden can make no mistakes to draw attention to himself, or they'll think they've found what they're looking for in him. And these people are in a constant state of readiness for war. Though most of them have reached a point of wanting global peace, they are too diverse in cultures to attain it completely."
I wish you could just get a fix on Jorran and zap him to us," Shanelle mumbled. "Problem solved."
"Already tried it, kiddo, without success," Martha replied in a matching mumble. "Without a homing link attached to him, I can't get a perfect lock on him, even if I can pick up his voice. I'd have to transfer the entire area he's in to guarantee getting him as well, which is out of the question unless we know for certain that he's alone. Besides, he's wearing one of those old‑fashioned personal Air Shields that prevent contamination when visiting suspect areas.”
"Never heard of it."
"Didn't think so. Personal Air Shields have long been considered inferior devices, since a simple pill these days can destroy any contamination in seconds, if there isn't a meditech unit handy to do the same. The shield around him isn't visible to the naked eye, doesn't prevent access to him other than of the germ type, but it definitely interferes with Molecular Transfer."
"As in, can't be used with?"
'Right. He'd have to turn it off for me to get at him, and he's not likely to do that, if he's paranoid enough to wear an old‑style shield in the first place rather than trust a meditech to cleanse and purify or a pin to prevent. But chances are his ship isn't equipped with an expensive meditech. Nor are the pills standard issue on Traders like his that usually have only contamination‑free planets on their scheduled routes, so they have no need for such devices to begin with."
"Why was it discontinued for use if it still serves its purpose?"
It became obsolete when Molecular Transfer first came into use. It worked fine when the only way you could get down to a planet was in a landing ship, but because Transfers can't be made while using one, if you transfer without the shield activated, you get contaminated before you can turn it on."
"That would be rather pointless," Shanelle agreed. "But wouldn't there be a time when Jorran might need to turn it off, like for cleaning up or sleeping?"
"Yes, but without a homing link on him, I can't keep him on track. I can zero in on him only when he communicates with his ship, but once he goes silent again, I lose him in the crowd. Besides, as long as he keeps the shield control within five feet of him, the shield will remain on him, even when he removes the control unit from his person, so I'm not counting on getting lucky there. "
Shanelle sighed. "So we have to physically get our hands on him and the rods."
"Exactly, but Dalden should be able to manage that just fine once he finds him‑as long as he stops being distracted by the locals."
No blush this time; in fact, Dalden's expression had turned warriorish, as in no expression at all. Martha usually took such opportunities to try to provoke a reaction, one of her small forms of amusement, but with a specific task at hand, she restrained herself.
"I haven't determined if Jorran did his homework first, or just picked a country at random," Martha continued. "But there are many different forms of government here in the different countries, and a hierarchy of government in the one he did pick. Head of a town, then head of a state that has hundreds of towns, then head of the whole country. They don't have a head of the whole planet yet, haven't progressed to that. But there are a few countries that are considered world leaders: their opinion counts bigtime and they have the power to back it up, if you know what I mean. He's picked one of the big leaders, but it looks like he's going to start small and work his way up. Didn't think he'd be that smart."
"Why is this smart, when it's not what he really wants?" Shanelle asked.
"Because what their leaders do here is quickly made known to all the populace, especially what the big leaders do. Whereas the actions of the little leaders, the ones who only govern a single town, tend to only be made known to that town. In other words, the fewer eyes on him, the better.
"He probably wasn't expecting this planet to be so hugely populated, since most planets grown to this size begin dispersing their people to other planet colonies before they deplete the mother planet's resources. Century III is still in the baby stages itself, with a gross population under five hundred thousand. This planet has people in the billions. They have millions jammed into little cities. They don't spread out, they spread up. There's just too many people here. It's no wonder any ship that has come close enough to check them out has run the other way instead of making contact. "
"On the other hand, Jorran might be delighted by the overabundance of population," Shanelle remarked. "The more people falling at his feet in worship, the better."
"True, though 1 doubt it will matter when Probables tell me it's
not going to work the way he's hoping, on a big scale‑though he seems to think It will, and can cause a lot of grief in the trying."
'Why not? It worked perfectly on Sunder."
"Yes, because Sunder was a global unity that shared power between the military and science departments, and they didn't have world communication systems like this one does, where everyone can be apprised of what's going on in their world by just turning on a box in their homes and listening. On Sunder, the leaders could step down and appoint anyone they wanted to take their place, and most of the planet's people never knew the difference. On this planet the leaders are either elected by the people, born into the position, or take power by might. The general populace knows what's going on and if they don't like it, they most definitely aren't quiet about it. And he's picked the elected form of government, so he can't just use the rods to have one of the leaders resign and appoint him in his place."
"But won't that approach take much longer?"
"You betcha." Martha switched to a smirking tone. 'It would take years for him to work his way up through the hierarchy. And it´s a good guess that Jorran won't figure that out before he runs out of time."
"Then couldn't we Just sit back and wait for him to run out of time and go home? If he's back on Century Ill, we can file theft charges against him and get the rods back through normal diplomatic channels."
"We could," Martha replied. "But we won't, when h
e could decide to take the risk and strand himself here, the old do‑or‑die approach. And there is one other possibility we have to take into account."
"You mean you haven't told us everything yet?"
"It's those slow computers," Martha's new tone was thick with complaint. "I was concentrating on retrieving their history, military, science, and governmental records first, but I'm now getting information that introduces new options. Jorran doesn't have to get into a position of leadership to be in a position of power on this particular planet. Wealth is a highly motivating, highly powerful commodity here, so he could obtain his own empire in the field of finance instead. And in that case, those rods can do exactly what he needs."
"Have people shower him with their riches, without knowing why, and with nothing to prevent them from doing so?" Shanelle guessed.
"Exactly.
Chapter Eight
“IS ALL THAT SILENCE BROODING, DALDEN, OR BECAUSE you've been paying attention?" Martha asked.
They were alone In the control room. Shanelle had been informed that Falon was showing signs of impatience in wanting to search for Jorran himself. Sending fifty seven‑foot Sha‑Ka'ani warriors to the surface for a mass search for Jorran would have hastened the search, but was out of the question. There might be humans of an equivalent size on the planet, but they were a rarity, not the norm.
Sending down even two warriors would be pushing it for drawing unwanted notice, which was why Martha was insisting the search begin with just Dalden. Shanelle, being in agreement, had rushed off to remind her lifemate of that.
I understand what worries you, Martha," Dalden replied. I would not let the woman know that I am what she would call a barbarian."
Chuckling floated about the room. "She wouldn't think that. No, her word for you would be an alien. It would have no meaning to her that other worlds consider your world a bit barbaric in nature. She'd recognize only one thing, that you aren't from her world, and that would shock the hell out of her, taking precedence over anything she might have been feeling about you. I'd then have to bring her aboard the ship, erase her memories of you, and hope that it works on these humanoids. And you know I don't deal well with 'hope it works.' So why don't we just avoid all that‑"