WATER SPLASHED ALL ABOUT.
“Which one we got?” Raven asked impatiently.
Clayben shrugged. “Who knows? They all look equally ugly
to me. Probably Takya. This one looks older, and Makoa would be the
logical one to lead a party on land again. We must hurry. We
don’t have the luxury of several days this time. If sundown
comes down there and the others dig themselves out, they’ll
find Makoa gone and then we’re in trouble.”
The mindprinting device was ready, taking a readout in less than
half an hour, limiting it to conscious thoughts and memories and
comparing it to past prints of both the original Makoa and each of
the four who’d been sent down.
“It’s bad,” Star Eagle reported. “Real
bad. It’s Takya, all right, only it isn’t. There
isn’t a single bit of Takya in the readout. None. The
face-off with our fake tiki and what happened until they returned
to harvest the nuts and go back home is very vague, like he just
shut it out and doesn’t think of it. Everything else is Makoa
and only Makoa. There is no way around it. I will have to use the
mindprint we took of Takya before the transmutation and restore her
to that point. It might bring the original forth, or replace
it.”
“Go ahead,” Clayben ordered. “We’re very
short on time and there is much to do.”
It was now five months since the quartet had infiltrated
Alititi, five months of sweat and frustration. Now they had mere
hours to do what they could to counter Brigadier Chi’s
brilliant and evidently all-too-effective trap. It was still better
than an hour before Takya’s original personality was restored
and she was lucid, and even then it wasn’t much help.
“I—I have the memories of Makoa going back and the
time there, but nothing of myself,” the agent said. “It
is incredible.”
“Focused hypnocasters,” Clayben told her. “We
blew it. Now we’re going to have to reprogram you with a
softer, more dangerous print.”
“You can neutralize the hypnocasters?”
“Now that we know what we’re dealing with, and by a
back-door method as it were, yes. Fortunately, the ’casters
are language specific to avoid disrupting the locals. We can
process you, eliminating the languages you know except, of course,
for Alititian, and cross-index the others into a single support
language called Maurog.”
“Maurog? What is that?”
“Artificial. It’s an intermediate language used by
humanoid robots. A version of it is used in all Vals. I have it
because it was the base language used by Vulture in his original
form. It was the language he thought in, the only one capable of
managing the data from so many other minds without going completely
mad. It will be natural to you—simply an alternate
sophisticated language compared to Alititian that will seem as
normal and familiar as the tongue you grew up with, but it will be
unnoticeable to the hypnocaster.” Takya didn’t hear the
whispered “We hope” after that statement.
“Of course, no one who isn’t imprinted with Maurog will
ever understand you, but Star Eagle can translate and once
you’re permanently back here we can restore the others. Also,
if you can, arrange for the others in the party to get some land
duty where we can treat them as well.”
“Why not just let me find the hypnocasters and disable
them? They use focused beams. It wouldn’t take much of a
tracer to find them.”
“Too risky. If I were Master System, I’d have
installed a broadcast alarm that would be triggered if any of their
equipment was taken out. That’s what we think the Val was
doing in the system. Planting monitors. This is a better plan even
if slower. What they have down there is effective. Star Eagle
reports that you have no memory of any of the rings in any way, let
alone the one we want. So it’s one step forward, now two
steps back.”
Takya sighed. “None of this will be easy, least of all the
softer print. I have become the kind of man I have detested all my
life. The gift of the gods to women.”
“Well, park your scruples. It’s not only yours and
three other lives at stake, if you fail then more will have to be
sent.”
The agent sighed again. “I know, I know.”
To the People, the realm of air was one of discomfort and
awkwardness. They felt helpless above the surface, ungainly and,
yes, ugly. Yet they had all been born on the land, and there was a
certain mystery and mystique about it.
It was more bearable at night; the daylight, even when
cloud-shrouded and storm-tossed, was bright and harsh and gave them
headaches and dizziness. At night, though, there was a magical
feel, with the flickering fires that could not exist below
reflecting past the tikis onto the sacred heiau walls, creating a
strange, moving shadow dance that seemed to show the spirits within
the tikis, if obliquely, in the only way humans were permitted to
see them, reflected in the obsidian beyond.
But in the water, now—in the water it all changed. There
was not the usual Earth-human sense of floating or swimming;
rather, it was more like suddenly becoming weightless, of flying
free, of seeing and catching the underwater currents created by the
distant and silent wind and storm and gradations in temperature,
and most of all by the random but incessant volcanic activity
permeating the world. These were not the people of Maui, who rode
the sun, but of Pele, goddess of fire.
Those, though, were the only real sights in the upper levels,
save the mana of some of the sea creatures and of the
occasional fellow flyer.
In the depths, in a world without light, the creatures there
made their own. Most had self-illumination, and a fish’s size
and type and even sex and age could be told by its configuration
and coloration. All nonpredators had this gift, which the priests
said was the mana of life inside showing through, a
reflection of the gods who made them. Only one predator made its
own light at will, though, and that was the People, through an
electrochemical process controlled by voluntary muscles in the
ribbed areas of their undersides. The markings were distinctive, as
unique as an Earth-human’s fingerprints, and one could tell
not only all the data from the patterns but also something of
tribal lineage and, if you knew them well, you could identify
individuals by their visible mana. This alone gave them
the edge against the dark predators, the Great Snakes, the Demon
Sharks, and the Tentacled Ones, who, being of evil, had no
mana of their own but who could very nicely see the
mana of others.
Below, the relatively shallow sea floors were marked with trails
distinctive to each tribe and nation, and mana was used,
too, as territorial markers. Only the females could exude it so
that it was separate from their bodies, and then only at certain
times of the month, but once gathered it could be mixed with dyes
from sea and land plants and take on a color of its own.
The city was a fairyland of beauty, a glowing, multicolored,
magical place. The predators never ventured near the cities; they
were mainly solitary hunters and had learned over the years not to
stray into areas too bright or too densely populated where they
could become sacrifices and perhaps be eaten themselves. Were it
not for their strong place in the religion of the People they would
have been exterminated in the earliest centuries, but while they
were diminished in number they were contained rather than
eliminated now. If the People did not understand the balance upon
which even their own way of life depended, the priests did.
For all their simplicity, they were a happy people overall,
rather content with their existence. They danced and they sang and
they gathered food and made love and occasionally made war; they
created works of art out of the volcanic products and shells and
other marine remains, and they indulged in combative sports pitting
warrior skills against warrior skills—they generally had fun.
They were not deep thinkers and saw no reason to be so. Their world
was their universe, and everything in it was either understood or
had been properly interpreted by the priests. They were not stupid,
but they simply had no curiosity.
One was also struck by the openness of the society. There were
no police, and the only guards were the warriors who scouted the
accessways to the city itself and patrolled the trails between the
villages to protect against predators and interlopers. The
fairyland houses with their strange shapes and twisted formations,
carved out of varicolored volcanic rock by skilled craftsmen, had
no doors, let alone locks. The king’s dwelling, at the north
end of the city, a grandiose crystalline palace that somehow seemed
to have its own mana within its infinite glassy sides, was
impressive, but only some tikis guarded it. It was sufficient.
At the opposite end of the city, against a wall of reddish-brown
rock that looked like cooled pudding, was the Temple, its countless
tikis, decorated with the mana of every woman of the
king’s own tribe and those of the royal families of the other
tribes who paid him at least technical allegiance, were more
impressive than the Temple itself. Beyond those faces
carved—of stone, not perishable wood—were the
sacrificial altar stone and the stage area for public rites and
ceremonies that were common, and between that area and the Temple
entrance was an impressive array of bubbling, hissing steam vents
that reminded the People whose temple it was.
The pirates had all looked at and studied this land and its
people from the mindprints of the natives and the agents they had
sent in. It had taken three months for Takya to maneuver the others
into positions where they, too, could be taken and restored, and
Savaphoong in particular had been furious at having been so easily
overcome, but now it was different. Now those aboard
Thunder could only vicariously experience what the quartet
below were living in and, as always, wait.
“Signal from receptor twenty-two,” Star Eagle
reported, galvanizing them into action. “It appears to be
Takya.”
Raven frowned. “Alone?”
“Apparently. The others all register as being within the
city.”
“Trouble, then. I’m going down.” He strapped
on his pistols and his belt and went back to Lightning.
Maria and Midi, who had been backing him up on all his ground
missions, were already waiting for him.
“Think it’s a trap?” Midi asked him as they prepared
to detach from Thunder, punch in to the system, then go
down in a smaller fighter. “This was not in the
plan.”
“I doubt a trap, but keep your weapons ready,” he
told them both. “If we don’t have all four down there,
then who knows what’s going on, even if we will be
rendezvousing in daylight. It’s not like them to let anybody
go off alone.”
The small atoll was peaceful enough; it was one of those that
the People never visited or used because it had been played out
years ago, as had the first island they had used when initially
coming to this world. The People understood sea management well,
but they were hard on the land when they planted and reaped.
Takya waited a bit inland, out of sight of the sea but in a
small stream that kept her relatively cool and wet. She sat, half
submerged, reclining on a low rock and looking like every
sailor’s nightmare of what a mermaid shouldn’t be.
The irony was that they couldn’t talk to her directly,
thanks to the language trick played by the hypnocasters. They could
only bring a complex box that she and they could speak into,
awkwardly, and which translated to and from the odd intermediate
computer language in the same rather dull monotone.
“I have seen the ring,” Takya told them. “It
was not difficult to find, for it is mounted in a gold-and-shell
charm that hangs from the neck of the high priest of the Temple. I
did not even need my position to see it. We all saw it, during the
celebration time. There is no question that it is the ring,
although it is glued or embedded in the larger medallion and hardly
looks like a ring. The design, however, faces outward—a
smooth, black face with some sort of tiny gold design on it. It
might be rings. We could not get that close.”
“All right, then, what’s the problem?” Raven
asked her.
“None but a priest or a sacrifice can physically enter the
Temple, and it is impossible to do so without being seen. When
outside the Temple, the high priest generally wears it, but he
never goes out without an entourage and always draws crowds. None
of us can become a priest at this stage, and sacrifices are all
young male virgins selected by the priests themselves, so getting
someone in that way is also out. There is certainly no way to
snatch it from him when he is out in the open and no easy way to
get in to the Temple and find him in that labyrinthine collection
of lava caves and tubes. The only way we can see to have any chance
of getting it is to somehow get in with full weapons and
instruments while most of the People sleep, knock out or perhaps
kill any in our way, grab the thing from around his neck, and get
out fast.”
Raven sighed. “I see. And if any alarm is sounded
you’re damn well blocked in, and even the best personal
weapons and equipment won’t stop a fanatical mob forever.
Still, I agree.”
“Savaphoong is not much of a fighter, but he is a devious
sort and he really wants that ring. No other entrance or exit to
the Temple but the one behind the altar was known to anyone among
the People, who have very few secrets, yet he refused to believe
it. He noted that the Temple is built in the only geologically
active region within kilometers of the city, and that there would
never be a guarantee against quakes or other eruptions or
disturbances. He was convinced that there had to be at least one
and perhaps more exits in case of emergency. He believes he has
located the general area where such exits must be, but there are
too many possibilities and, needless to say, no markings or
indicators. If I can be provided with markers, then a ship could be
brought in to scan the entire undersea mountain into which the
Temple is built. We will need as complete a geologic scan as is
possible. Han Li has noted that there is an almost self-contained
circulation system within the Temple due to the fumaroles. The
water that comes out of all the possible exit sites is definitely
warmer than normal. Use that and you might be able to give us an
interior map of the place.”
Raven nodded. “All right. I’ll arrange it. But are
you sure you can get markers into position without them or you
being seen?”
“Yes, I am confident. I have assigned myself as captain of
patrols for the next three weeks. This means I leave the city and
make three-day round trips of the various main trails into and out
of the city and check the patrols and guards. In six days I will be
at receptor four. Have what is required ready then. By then I will
tell you where we will meet six days after that. At that time I
will need the map and all information you can give, and if you have
some of the recommended weaponry, I can take that at the time, too.
In eighteen days all else must be provided, and after that we will
require a picket to be established capable of not only picking us
up but supporting our life form. As soon as we have the ring we
will make for a prearranged surface pickup, but it is possible we
may be being chased by that point. When we signal for a pickup we
will need it immediately, not in a few hours.”
“We’ll give you what cover we can,” Raven
promised, “but if we can determine the pickup early we can
rig it to give you more of a chance. All right. We’ll meet
you at receptor four exactly six days from now with what you need
and we’ll have run this problem by everyone. I know this
one’s gonna be a bitch, Takya. We’ll do all we
can.”
The agent nodded. “I know you will.”
“The only problem I can foresee from our end is if Master
System decides to show up and spoil the party,” Star Eagle
noted. “But that society down there is all so open, so
public. They are going to have a very difficult mission.”
“We’ve also got to assume that they will have some
sort of tracer built into that medallion,” Vulture noted.
“That’s what I would have done, anyway. That means that
once that thing is off the planet, it’s gonna be picked up by
every damned sensor in the system.”
“Not just out of the water? That’d buy ’em the
most time for a response,” Raven said worriedly.
“Doubtful. Priests are the only males allowed in the
birthing heiaus if I studied those prints right, and the high
priest attends to the royals, so he’s out of the water at
least now and then.”
Raven looked up. “Huh? Wait a minute. Okay, do what Takya
wants, but let’s also work on an alternate plan. We’ve
already blown almost eight months on this operation, so we can be a
little more patient. Instead of sending our people into an unknown
quagmire of caves and tubes blasting away and looking for a
bedroom, let’s try to wait and take him when he’s
topside. They’re damned near dormant in the daytime—we
didn’t have any trouble gettin’ who we needed that
first time, and this time we don’t give a damn if they get
the hell knocked out of ’em. They got to come up to have
kids! And Takya—Makoa—is high enough she or he can
surely get royal guard duty.”
“A good plan,” Vulture agreed, “but I favor
the direct approach that Takya outlined. It is just a feeling I
have, I admit. Nothing to back it up, really, except experience in
these things. If we were just dealing with Master System and the
Vals, I’d say go your way, but Brigadier
Chi—that’s something else again.”
“You got Chi on the brain,” Raven responded
sourly.
“Perhaps, but I know her. If she has a weakness, it is an
abiding faith in her religion, which is technology. With what
she’s been told of the culture and layout below, and with the
tracer and the hypnocasters, she’s probably satisfied that a
frontal assault without giving her plenty of warning is unlikely
and far too risky. She would put herself in our place. No Vulture,
so the setup below should be adequate. Where they would be
vulnerable in her eyes is just exactly where you say and when you
say. If I were gonna lay out a lot of sophisticated technological
traps I’d put them right there, on that birthing island. They
had nine days—and they took a shuttle craft down, not a mere
fighter or scout. She’s got some sort of trap covering the
easy way, of that I’m sure, and she’ll take into
account our superiority over the natives. No, I’m for going
with those on the planet, as it were. They know the situation
best.”
“You really think this Chi’s that good?”
“I think she and her computers are at least the equal of
us and our computers. Besides, she’s military security,
trained to play this sort of game, and while she’s been stung
once, she got in her licks and knows us much better now—and
with far greater support and resources. I, however, understand her,
too. A crude direct assault is against our character, our pattern
of behavior. We play the probabilities where we can. Let’s
change our method this time. It’s ten to one she’s
prepared least for the direct approach for all the reasons you
name.”
“What Vulture says is logical and consistent,” Star
Eagle put in. “You have noted the weak point. That is the
logical reinforcement, and Takya’s way seems best, all things
considered.”
Takya, too, on the second rendezvous, agreed with Vulture.
“I have already scouted the birthing island for just such
reasons,” the leader below told Raven, “and I smell the
worst kind of trap. At the entrance to the heiau are two new tikis,
a bit wider and bulkier than the usual, and highly polished, as if
made of neither stone nor wood, although those are the only two
materials we ever use. I think, and the others agree, that our
friend Chi borrowed, unknowingly, a trick from our own book. I
think both of those tikis are Vals in monitor mode, without much
power and with the infinite patience of a machine.
That’s her big trap. No, we go in quick, dirty, and
armed to the teeth and to hell with subtlety.”
Takya, or all of them, got the markers placed well enough within
a few days, and Star Eagle was able to maneuver an orbital fighter
to take full scans of the entire complex. It was a horror, possibly
chosen for that reason but certainly not constructed by anyone but
nature. It resembled a plate of worms inside, and there were no
large chambers that obviously were used either for high ceremony or
for a high priest’s comforts. Not that it might not be nice
in there, but it wasn’t going to be easy to find anything.
There were also tunnels that led not to rooms or other tunnels but
rather to active volcanic areas within the mountain, the source of
the warmer waters.
Adapting the weapons was easier. The laser pistols could be
sealed where needed, and were rigged with small destruct systems
that could be activated as needed, overloading the pistol and
causing it to explode or melt. Other devices—small torpedoes,
bombs, visual aids, and the like—were also not difficult to
fabricate. None of the equipment required a great deal of training;
all were based on existing devices that the four below would have
at least encountered before becoming Alititians.
Demonstrating the devices and checking them out proved
relatively easy, although Takya knew that he would have to find
some way of training the other three or at least giving them a
little practice. They were experienced with the pistols, of course,
but the rest required a bit more knowledge, and even the pistols
reacted differently underwater.
“If you surface within a twenty-square-kilometer perimeter
of the Temple center, you’ll be covered by two automated
fighters until we can get to you,” Raven assured him.
“If you need immediate assistance, the hand signal will bring
them in close enough for you to latch on to the webbing we’ll
have on them and transport you to pickup one. Lightning
will be on station no matter what before you reach pickup one if
you’re pursued. If not, it’ll be mere minutes since
I’m gonna stay close anyway. As soon as you can, transmit up.
I’ll activate the destruct signals when everybody’s
aboard. Understand?”
The agent nodded. “I understand. You just had better be
there, Raven. There is much to like about this world and these
people, but that sentiment will not be returned by them when we do
what we must.”
Raven stared at the Alititian. “I let you all down once. I
will never do that again.” It was said with such certainty
that Takya did not for a moment doubt its truth and sincerity.
“Nine days hence,” the Alititian told him. “We
will commence precisely three hours after the common sleep time.
Getting around the guards and day personnel will be no problem, but
there is no way of knowing when we shall be away from there. But by
nightfall we shall have the ring and be away, or we shall be
dead.”
There were, in fact, four man-made additions to the Temple
complex, all of them short tunnels connecting natural ones. Two
came out fairly high up, perhaps only three or four meters from the
surface, while the other two provided opposite end exits from
almost the level of the sea floor. These, then, were the emergency
exits planned just in case the rather passive volcanic activity
grew suddenly more active. It seemed that the priests might be very
good at telling their people that such things were divine
punishments, but as far as priests were concerned, they reserved
the right to run like hell.
Takya was able to deduce the purpose of many of the tunnels and
the regions within the Temple based on the location of the main
entrance and the exits. There would be a formal dressing area for
the priests near the main entrance, which would be very ornamental
and contain something like a makeup table. A separate area nearby
had to be where the sacrifices would be more or less wined and
dined until it was time to fulfill their bloody destiny. Other than
that, there had to be some sort of a headquarters complex where the
priests, acolytes, and high priest lived, and it was almost
certainly arranged in some sort of hierarchical order. The best
guess was from bottom to top. The largest tubes were up there, and
the easiest access to exits. That meant going in near the top.
Sneaking out of their various homes and gathering at the point
where the weapons and gear had been hidden hadn’t been easy
for all of them, but now they were all there, strapping on carrying
harnesses, checking the equipment out, and getting the heft and
feel of the pistols in Alititian webbed hands. Transmuters were
very handy for customization of standard equipment.
Takya looked at them. “We have gone through this as much
as possible and talked and talked about it. Is there any objection
to going now?”
“It is—difficult—to leave,” Han Li
responded. “After so many years of wandering and being a
humble second, I have become very fond of heading a family and of
the family I head. Still, my honor demands sacrifice. I shall
go.”
“The sooner I am free of this place the better,”
Savaphoong grumbled. “I sacrificed my form for this, but not
to spend my life as a worker gnawing on fish. This is what we came
to do.”
Dura nodded. “I share both sentiments, but we do it now or
we might never do it. Let’s begin.”
And, with that, they headed up into the dark upper reaches of
the sea to the man-made exit they’d chosen.
If anyone had ever wandered up here, they, too, would probably
have spotted the exit but would not have entered. Dimly carved into
the black rock but plainly recognizable were several of the most
severe taboo signs in Alititian culture. To go further risked not
only death but eternal damnation. Floating there, and after living
for so long in this culture, the four felt a certain involuntary
hesitation at the sight of them, showing the power of the symbols,
but it was only for a moment. Takya drew a pistol with her right
hand and removed a sensing device with the other and moved in.
Only two meters inside there was a small net stretched across
the tunnel and fastened there, obviously to keep out any denizens
of the deep that might not comprehend taboo symbols. Takya decided
not to tear it out; it might well contain some kind of alarm on the
other side. Instead, she used her needler to cut out the center
portion and then pull it in and away. Then she entered, followed by
the others.
The first section of tunnel was a chamber of horrors, a dark
tube that had been painted with multicolor secretions with every
evil taboo symbol, threat, and vicious god and spirit known to the
Alititians. Clearly the priests wanted a last psychological and
cultural jab at anyone who just might believe the signs outside
didn’t apply to them.
The tube widened out, as the artificial section merged with the
natural structure. There they encountered a second security net,
which Takya dealt with as she had the first one in the outer
passage, and then the horrors were behind them. Now the secretions
were of a more standard type, illuminating the passage and showing,
apparently, just where someone who knew the code to the floor plan
was and how to get to anywhere else. The pirates didn’t know
the plan, however, so Savaphoong removed a small locator beacon and
attached it to the cave roof. He was the tail man and had several
dozen beacons; his job was to place the locators so that they would
clearly mark the route, and when it was time to leave, he had a
device that could tell the numeric order in which any one of them
was placed. They would thus provide a clear but conveniently
invisible trail to follow out of here when it was over.
They reached a roomlike side chamber and found several sleeping
forms there. They had already agreed to take no chances; everyone
and everything that looked like it might move was hit with deep
stun. Takya’s own pistol was set to kill.
It was remarkably, almost disappointingly easy. These people had
no concept of modern weapons or what they could do, and they were
helpless even when awake or awakened by the interlopers until far
too late to do anything but fall over.
It took a bit over an hour to locate the high priest, asleep in
his quarters, and stun him senseless. He had the necklace on, as he
always did, and for the first time they were able to examine the
medallion closely. It was certainly the ring, unless Chi had taken
a leaf from Vulture at Chanchuk and somehow replaced it with a
ringer. It didn’t look fake, though; it looked as if it had
been embedded in that medallion for a very long time. Dura held the
old man while Takya pulled the whole thing off him and stuffed it
in her backpack. Even so, they took the time to check his chest of
personal belongings just in case there was another ring or
medallion there. There was not.
“My turn to lead,” Savaphoong whispered, and
activated his tracker. They encountered a few more awake or
awakened acolytes on the way back, but Dura and Han Li’s
quick pistols took them out. Takya covered the rear, and if
anything was coming that way it would not be stunned but quickly
dead.
Twist, turn, up, right . . . Savaphoong
moved with grace and certainty toward the exit. There was the inner
net, then the cave of terrors that no longer seemed quite so
intimidating, then the second net. He was going very quickly now,
but they didn’t need him to show them the way any more, and
he was back out of there before Dura had cleared the outer net.
They emerged into open water once more, and looked around.
“Where is Savaphoong?” Takya asked, more puzzled than
concerned.
“Here,” responded a voice behind and slightly above
them. They turned and saw the old trader perched on a rocky outcrop
above the exit with two pistols trained on them. “Now drop
your weapons! All of you! I mean it!” He fired very close to
Takya’s arm to illustrate his point.
Takya sighed. “Drop them, all of you. He has his on
lethal.” They did what they were told, the pistols dropping
down as if in slow motion into the darkness below. “Now, what
treachery is this?”
“I want the ring,” Savaphoong replied.
“Isn’t that obvious? There will be no vote on who gets
it. I did not do this to be fourth in line. Just hand the medallion
over and I’ll flick this to wide stun. You’ll all go
out like a light and float to the surface from here, but
you’ll be all right. I, however, shall sadly report how
heroically you died in getting the ring when I alone am picked
up.”
“You’ll never get away with it. They’ll never
believe you,” Dura retorted angrily.
“They don’t have to. They will mourn you, yes, and
perhaps doubt me, but they will have the rings and time will be
pressing. I seriously doubt if they will launch a major search.
Now—quickly! The ring! An alarm is certain in the Temple at
any moment, and they’ll find those cut nets in no
time!”
“You are a turd, Savaphoong,” Takya responded, and
activated something in his hand that Savaphoong had not seen him
palm.
The pistol in the trader’s hand suddenly shimmered and
began to whine. He pulled the trigger but nothing happened. The
pistol suddenly grew very hot, and he was forced to drop it. It
shimmered, then vanished with a loud pop and a hissing sound.
Similar sounds came from far below.
When Savaphoong looked back up, he was facing two expert
harpoonlike crossbows aimed right at him.
“What? . . . ” he managed.
“Automatic destruct. We couldn’t have weapons like
these falling into the hands of the Alititians, could we? All
right—I agree with you on one thing, that time is running
out. Get down here quickly and back inside the cave!”
He looked stricken. “You—you can’t!
They’ll kill me! Or worse!”
“Tough. We’ll kill you right now. In! No
more time! Dura—give him a sample shot in the tail to
motivate him!”
“No, no! I’m moving!” He came down to the cave
opening, but turned. “I wouldn’t really have left you
here! I swear on my mother’s grave!”
“You probably did away with your mother for the value of
her body chemicals,” Takya responded. “In! And
as far in as possible as fast as possible, because in ten seconds
from right now I am going to toss a small bomb in that cave! You
made your gamble and you lost! Now you must pay the bet.”
Savaphoong vanished into the darkness of the cave.
Takya removed a small device and sent it into the cave after
him, then turned and signaled. They were going up and fast.
Savaphoong, however, was not finished yet, at least as far as
his own future was concerned. Betting that as soon as the bomb was
thrown they would leave, he watched it come in, swam to it and
caught it, then threw it back out the cave opening and waited.
In a few anxious seconds there was a brilliant flash of light
and a slight rumbling all around, but it quickly died away. He shot
out of the cave, his first thought to get away from there and fast.
They had hit quick and dirty and most of those they’d shot
with stunners had been acolytes. It was pretty good odds that he,
at least, bringing up the rear most of the time, hadn’t been
recognized, but that did him little good. He thought about his
alternatives.
He could, of course, give chase to them, but they were good and
still had advanced weapons on them. The odds of being able to do
more than get shot or killed were slim, nor would Hawks treat him
with any respect should he somehow manage to get picked up anyway.
The odds were almost certain he’d simply be thrown back
in.
To remain and take a chance that he was not recognized would
present the best odds of long-term survival, but to live down here,
like this, forever—it was unthinkable. Death was
preferable.
There was, however, a third alternative that came to him almost
in a flash of desperation. His chances weren’t very good
doing this, either, but it offered the only real hope for some
long-term gain, no matter how slim that hope was. He had gambled
once and lost; he’d been too sloppy, the result of letting
other people do his dirty work for so long and of sitting sedentary
in his pleasure yacht with little or nothing to do. That was over.
It was time to roll the dice and see if, perhaps, against all odds,
he could come up a real winner this time. At the very least he
would satisfy his honor.
He whirled and began to swim away from the rendezvous point and
away from the city as well, toward a certain island a couple of
hours off. Even as he did so, he could hear the war drums and deep
shell-horn alarms going off, awakening the city to give chase. He
hoped they chased in the right direction, which was well away from
him.
Dura looked back and saw a living sea of black shapes well below
but coming toward them. “I am really missing those pistols
now!” she shouted to them. “That is the whole damned
legion down there and maybe more!”
“Break surface and give the signal, then start swimming
like hell toward the rendezvous point!” Takya shouted back.
“I am going to start dropping bombs at intervals on
twenty-second delays!”
They broke the surface, certain that they were still well within
the surveillance perimeters, raised their right arms three times,
then began to swim. Although it was late in the day and overcast,
the brightness blinded them and the ultraviolet felt less than
comfortable coming invisibly through those clouds. The sea was
choppy, slowing them a bit as well, and each of them worried that
they might not be visible among the rough seas.
The first of a series of giant bubbles broke the surface behind
them, urging them on no matter what. That was the force left from
the first of the bombs dropped on the pursuers, and Takya had
dropped three more by now.
Suddenly they could feel more than see a kind of shade, as if
something huge had come over them, blocking off the hidden
sun’s deadly rays. Han Li reached up, grabbed hold, and
shouted, “It is the fighter! Reach up! Grab on to the
netting!”
They did so, each holding on for dear life, as the fighter then
rose a bit in the air. Even as it did so, they could hear yells and
screams and curses from the water below, and things started
striking and bouncing off the sides of the fighter. Dura screamed
as something struck her tail, followed in a few seconds by a
building, searing pain, but in spite of the shock of it, she hung
on. The fighter accelerated and soon left the war party far below
in the choppy seas, unable to follow.
It settled down gently, hovering less than two meters off the
ground on a tiny, overgrown and neglected island. All three let go
and came down on the ground. It was still nearly impossible to see,
and they had real problems for a moment orienting themselves.
“Dura! Han Li! Are you both there?”
“Yes!” Han Li responded. “But I think Dura is
hurt. Oh! A spear right through the tail on the right
side. I wish I could see better but I will try to pry it out. Dura,
are you ready?”
“Yes.” She gasped. “Get rid of it and help me
to the transmitter. I’ll be all right if we can just get up
to Lightning.”
Han Li pulled with all her strength, although she was slightly
weakened by the sudden switchover to the less efficient breathing
of air, and Dura gave a scream of pain, but the spear came free.
Blood poured from the wound but there was nothing to do but be
quick about it.
Takya was with them. “Over there! It is nearly impossible
to see but there is a large, dark shape there. It must be it!
Come—hold on, Dura! We will get you there!”
Han Li froze for a moment. “I hear a war party
approaching! Some of the watch was alerted and saw where we were
carried. Let us get out of here!”
The door slid back on the special fighter rigged with the
transmitter, and they used all their strength to get Dura inside
and the door closed.
“We have some time,” Takya said reassuringly,
“if Raven is actually up there. The war party has to crawl up
on the island, find us, and they are as blind and exposed as
we.”
There was a clicking sound and then the fighter gave a loud
whine and shuddered slightly. It seemed an eternity until that door
opened again, though, and the war party, hearing the noise, had
shifted its search and was now coming straight for them.
Takya gave the backpack to Han Li. “You next. Take this. I
will follow.”
“No—it is yours! You planned this!”
“No arguments. I should have sent it with Dura. Get it
up! It is all that really matters right now.”
The door opened. Han Li hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the
backpack and pulled herself inside. The door shut and there was
another whine and shudder. The war party sounded pretty damned
close. Too close. She could hear them, and it was getting
dark enough so that she was starting to see a bit. Maybe a minute
or two and that frenzied mob would be upon her. Recycling the
transmuter would take longer than that. She readied a couple of
bombs and reared up on her tail to face her would-be killers.
One of the small covering fighters swooped down, having
calculated the same thing, and began firing into the war party with
devastating effect, shaking the ground. Its weapons weren’t
intended to shoot people but other ships; it was like killing
mosquitoes with a cannon.
The concussion almost knocked Takya down, and she steadied
herself against the side of the transmission fighter and then
almost got crushed when the door came open again. Dizzy, hardly
thinking straight, she managed to get up and pull herself in. The
door shut.
She could hear that a few warriors had made it even through the
fighter fire and were actually at her transmuter. They were
rearing up, beating and pounding on the ship.
There was a sudden click, a disorienting sensation, and all that
noise ceased.
As soon as the last agent was aboard, Raven triggered the
universal destruct and gunned Lightning away from Alititi.
There was no time to waste recovering the fighters; they had
figured, rightly or wrongly, that as soon as the ring cleared the
planet all hell was going to break loose and come down on them
anyway.
Below, all three fighters exploded—along with virtually
every other piece of extraplanetary gear they had
introduced—leaving only twisted hulks, many dead bodies, and
enough new legends for a hundred generations to come.
“Why do you come to this sacred island?” the captain
of the guard challenged. “You have no rank or right to be
here!”
“Be at ease, Captain,” Fernando Savaphoong responded
in his humblest voice. “Send your man below and you will hear
the calls that confirm what I say. Horrible sacrilege has been
committed against the People. The Temple is violated, many priests
and acolytes, even the Highest One, are dead or in strange trances,
and the holy badge of office has been stolen. There are no active
priests. I am commanded to the gates of the sacred heiau to call
upon the gods and the service of the priests therein. Let me past.
I would not violate the heiau, merely plead at the gate.”
The captain nodded to one of his men, who went under, remaining
a good five minutes or so, then emerging once more. “What he
says is true, Captain,” the soldier reported. “It is
said that some of our own people were possessed by demons. There
has been great demon-fire and many deaths among our
warriors.”
The captain didn’t like this, but there seemed little harm
in it. “Very well—to the great guardians of the gate
and no further, or you shall be roasted alive in the
fires!”
“Thank you, kind sir!” Savaphoong responded, and
began the fairly long lizardlike crawl up the road as fast as he
could move.
It was as Takya had said: two new, glistening, mean-looking
tikis had been added on either side of the heiau’s entrance.
He could see how they might be Vals; he sure as hell hoped they
were.
“All right, Vals,” he said in Maurog as loudly and
confidently as he could. “I am Fernando Savaphoong, formerly
of the pirates of the Thunder. I have come to tell you
that my former comrades have just stolen your pretty ring from
under your very noses and that I have decided that I have been
wrong all this time and am surrendering myself to your authority. I
wish to be taken to your commander!”
For a very long moment he was afraid that he had lost this
gamble at the onset, that these were indeed just new tikis and that
Takya had been wrong.
Suddenly one of the tikis turned slightly toward him and asked,
“Why should we just not take your mindprint and dispose of
you now?”
It startled him, but he was so relieved that he never lost his
composure.
“Such a move would give you only the facts that I know. I
can be of far greater value because I have lived and worked with
these people for years. I know how they think, what they will do
next. It will take time to even study and evaluate what I can
freely offer. For example, do not think that this is merely another
lost battle. You have been fooled—we stole the ring on
Matriyeh years ago and replaced it and your Val goddess with fakes.
They have all four rings that were scattered among the stars even
now. The fifth ring is already on Earth, most probably in the hands
of one who knows where to use them even as Hawks of the
Thunder knows how to use them. If you do not wish
to see the pirates become your masters, you had better deal with me
and quickly!”
Again, the slight hesitation, and then one said, “I am
summoning a ship now and transmitting the alarm. We are pursuing.
Having scanned you and seeing nothing threatening, we will accept
for the moment what you say, but you are under arrest nonetheless
on charges of piracy and actions and thoughts against the system.
We will take you to Brigadier Chi as soon as we can arrange for a
pickup.”
Savaphoong rested back on his tail and gave the Alititian
equivalent of a smile. He was back in business.
WATER SPLASHED ALL ABOUT.
“Which one we got?” Raven asked impatiently.
Clayben shrugged. “Who knows? They all look equally ugly
to me. Probably Takya. This one looks older, and Makoa would be the
logical one to lead a party on land again. We must hurry. We
don’t have the luxury of several days this time. If sundown
comes down there and the others dig themselves out, they’ll
find Makoa gone and then we’re in trouble.”
The mindprinting device was ready, taking a readout in less than
half an hour, limiting it to conscious thoughts and memories and
comparing it to past prints of both the original Makoa and each of
the four who’d been sent down.
“It’s bad,” Star Eagle reported. “Real
bad. It’s Takya, all right, only it isn’t. There
isn’t a single bit of Takya in the readout. None. The
face-off with our fake tiki and what happened until they returned
to harvest the nuts and go back home is very vague, like he just
shut it out and doesn’t think of it. Everything else is Makoa
and only Makoa. There is no way around it. I will have to use the
mindprint we took of Takya before the transmutation and restore her
to that point. It might bring the original forth, or replace
it.”
“Go ahead,” Clayben ordered. “We’re very
short on time and there is much to do.”
It was now five months since the quartet had infiltrated
Alititi, five months of sweat and frustration. Now they had mere
hours to do what they could to counter Brigadier Chi’s
brilliant and evidently all-too-effective trap. It was still better
than an hour before Takya’s original personality was restored
and she was lucid, and even then it wasn’t much help.
“I—I have the memories of Makoa going back and the
time there, but nothing of myself,” the agent said. “It
is incredible.”
“Focused hypnocasters,” Clayben told her. “We
blew it. Now we’re going to have to reprogram you with a
softer, more dangerous print.”
“You can neutralize the hypnocasters?”
“Now that we know what we’re dealing with, and by a
back-door method as it were, yes. Fortunately, the ’casters
are language specific to avoid disrupting the locals. We can
process you, eliminating the languages you know except, of course,
for Alititian, and cross-index the others into a single support
language called Maurog.”
“Maurog? What is that?”
“Artificial. It’s an intermediate language used by
humanoid robots. A version of it is used in all Vals. I have it
because it was the base language used by Vulture in his original
form. It was the language he thought in, the only one capable of
managing the data from so many other minds without going completely
mad. It will be natural to you—simply an alternate
sophisticated language compared to Alititian that will seem as
normal and familiar as the tongue you grew up with, but it will be
unnoticeable to the hypnocaster.” Takya didn’t hear the
whispered “We hope” after that statement.
“Of course, no one who isn’t imprinted with Maurog will
ever understand you, but Star Eagle can translate and once
you’re permanently back here we can restore the others. Also,
if you can, arrange for the others in the party to get some land
duty where we can treat them as well.”
“Why not just let me find the hypnocasters and disable
them? They use focused beams. It wouldn’t take much of a
tracer to find them.”
“Too risky. If I were Master System, I’d have
installed a broadcast alarm that would be triggered if any of their
equipment was taken out. That’s what we think the Val was
doing in the system. Planting monitors. This is a better plan even
if slower. What they have down there is effective. Star Eagle
reports that you have no memory of any of the rings in any way, let
alone the one we want. So it’s one step forward, now two
steps back.”
Takya sighed. “None of this will be easy, least of all the
softer print. I have become the kind of man I have detested all my
life. The gift of the gods to women.”
“Well, park your scruples. It’s not only yours and
three other lives at stake, if you fail then more will have to be
sent.”
The agent sighed again. “I know, I know.”
To the People, the realm of air was one of discomfort and
awkwardness. They felt helpless above the surface, ungainly and,
yes, ugly. Yet they had all been born on the land, and there was a
certain mystery and mystique about it.
It was more bearable at night; the daylight, even when
cloud-shrouded and storm-tossed, was bright and harsh and gave them
headaches and dizziness. At night, though, there was a magical
feel, with the flickering fires that could not exist below
reflecting past the tikis onto the sacred heiau walls, creating a
strange, moving shadow dance that seemed to show the spirits within
the tikis, if obliquely, in the only way humans were permitted to
see them, reflected in the obsidian beyond.
But in the water, now—in the water it all changed. There
was not the usual Earth-human sense of floating or swimming;
rather, it was more like suddenly becoming weightless, of flying
free, of seeing and catching the underwater currents created by the
distant and silent wind and storm and gradations in temperature,
and most of all by the random but incessant volcanic activity
permeating the world. These were not the people of Maui, who rode
the sun, but of Pele, goddess of fire.
Those, though, were the only real sights in the upper levels,
save the mana of some of the sea creatures and of the
occasional fellow flyer.
In the depths, in a world without light, the creatures there
made their own. Most had self-illumination, and a fish’s size
and type and even sex and age could be told by its configuration
and coloration. All nonpredators had this gift, which the priests
said was the mana of life inside showing through, a
reflection of the gods who made them. Only one predator made its
own light at will, though, and that was the People, through an
electrochemical process controlled by voluntary muscles in the
ribbed areas of their undersides. The markings were distinctive, as
unique as an Earth-human’s fingerprints, and one could tell
not only all the data from the patterns but also something of
tribal lineage and, if you knew them well, you could identify
individuals by their visible mana. This alone gave them
the edge against the dark predators, the Great Snakes, the Demon
Sharks, and the Tentacled Ones, who, being of evil, had no
mana of their own but who could very nicely see the
mana of others.
Below, the relatively shallow sea floors were marked with trails
distinctive to each tribe and nation, and mana was used,
too, as territorial markers. Only the females could exude it so
that it was separate from their bodies, and then only at certain
times of the month, but once gathered it could be mixed with dyes
from sea and land plants and take on a color of its own.
The city was a fairyland of beauty, a glowing, multicolored,
magical place. The predators never ventured near the cities; they
were mainly solitary hunters and had learned over the years not to
stray into areas too bright or too densely populated where they
could become sacrifices and perhaps be eaten themselves. Were it
not for their strong place in the religion of the People they would
have been exterminated in the earliest centuries, but while they
were diminished in number they were contained rather than
eliminated now. If the People did not understand the balance upon
which even their own way of life depended, the priests did.
For all their simplicity, they were a happy people overall,
rather content with their existence. They danced and they sang and
they gathered food and made love and occasionally made war; they
created works of art out of the volcanic products and shells and
other marine remains, and they indulged in combative sports pitting
warrior skills against warrior skills—they generally had fun.
They were not deep thinkers and saw no reason to be so. Their world
was their universe, and everything in it was either understood or
had been properly interpreted by the priests. They were not stupid,
but they simply had no curiosity.
One was also struck by the openness of the society. There were
no police, and the only guards were the warriors who scouted the
accessways to the city itself and patrolled the trails between the
villages to protect against predators and interlopers. The
fairyland houses with their strange shapes and twisted formations,
carved out of varicolored volcanic rock by skilled craftsmen, had
no doors, let alone locks. The king’s dwelling, at the north
end of the city, a grandiose crystalline palace that somehow seemed
to have its own mana within its infinite glassy sides, was
impressive, but only some tikis guarded it. It was sufficient.
At the opposite end of the city, against a wall of reddish-brown
rock that looked like cooled pudding, was the Temple, its countless
tikis, decorated with the mana of every woman of the
king’s own tribe and those of the royal families of the other
tribes who paid him at least technical allegiance, were more
impressive than the Temple itself. Beyond those faces
carved—of stone, not perishable wood—were the
sacrificial altar stone and the stage area for public rites and
ceremonies that were common, and between that area and the Temple
entrance was an impressive array of bubbling, hissing steam vents
that reminded the People whose temple it was.
The pirates had all looked at and studied this land and its
people from the mindprints of the natives and the agents they had
sent in. It had taken three months for Takya to maneuver the others
into positions where they, too, could be taken and restored, and
Savaphoong in particular had been furious at having been so easily
overcome, but now it was different. Now those aboard
Thunder could only vicariously experience what the quartet
below were living in and, as always, wait.
“Signal from receptor twenty-two,” Star Eagle
reported, galvanizing them into action. “It appears to be
Takya.”
Raven frowned. “Alone?”
“Apparently. The others all register as being within the
city.”
“Trouble, then. I’m going down.” He strapped
on his pistols and his belt and went back to Lightning.
Maria and Midi, who had been backing him up on all his ground
missions, were already waiting for him.
“Think it’s a trap?” Midi asked him as they prepared
to detach from Thunder, punch in to the system, then go
down in a smaller fighter. “This was not in the
plan.”
“I doubt a trap, but keep your weapons ready,” he
told them both. “If we don’t have all four down there,
then who knows what’s going on, even if we will be
rendezvousing in daylight. It’s not like them to let anybody
go off alone.”
The small atoll was peaceful enough; it was one of those that
the People never visited or used because it had been played out
years ago, as had the first island they had used when initially
coming to this world. The People understood sea management well,
but they were hard on the land when they planted and reaped.
Takya waited a bit inland, out of sight of the sea but in a
small stream that kept her relatively cool and wet. She sat, half
submerged, reclining on a low rock and looking like every
sailor’s nightmare of what a mermaid shouldn’t be.
The irony was that they couldn’t talk to her directly,
thanks to the language trick played by the hypnocasters. They could
only bring a complex box that she and they could speak into,
awkwardly, and which translated to and from the odd intermediate
computer language in the same rather dull monotone.
“I have seen the ring,” Takya told them. “It
was not difficult to find, for it is mounted in a gold-and-shell
charm that hangs from the neck of the high priest of the Temple. I
did not even need my position to see it. We all saw it, during the
celebration time. There is no question that it is the ring,
although it is glued or embedded in the larger medallion and hardly
looks like a ring. The design, however, faces outward—a
smooth, black face with some sort of tiny gold design on it. It
might be rings. We could not get that close.”
“All right, then, what’s the problem?” Raven
asked her.
“None but a priest or a sacrifice can physically enter the
Temple, and it is impossible to do so without being seen. When
outside the Temple, the high priest generally wears it, but he
never goes out without an entourage and always draws crowds. None
of us can become a priest at this stage, and sacrifices are all
young male virgins selected by the priests themselves, so getting
someone in that way is also out. There is certainly no way to
snatch it from him when he is out in the open and no easy way to
get in to the Temple and find him in that labyrinthine collection
of lava caves and tubes. The only way we can see to have any chance
of getting it is to somehow get in with full weapons and
instruments while most of the People sleep, knock out or perhaps
kill any in our way, grab the thing from around his neck, and get
out fast.”
Raven sighed. “I see. And if any alarm is sounded
you’re damn well blocked in, and even the best personal
weapons and equipment won’t stop a fanatical mob forever.
Still, I agree.”
“Savaphoong is not much of a fighter, but he is a devious
sort and he really wants that ring. No other entrance or exit to
the Temple but the one behind the altar was known to anyone among
the People, who have very few secrets, yet he refused to believe
it. He noted that the Temple is built in the only geologically
active region within kilometers of the city, and that there would
never be a guarantee against quakes or other eruptions or
disturbances. He was convinced that there had to be at least one
and perhaps more exits in case of emergency. He believes he has
located the general area where such exits must be, but there are
too many possibilities and, needless to say, no markings or
indicators. If I can be provided with markers, then a ship could be
brought in to scan the entire undersea mountain into which the
Temple is built. We will need as complete a geologic scan as is
possible. Han Li has noted that there is an almost self-contained
circulation system within the Temple due to the fumaroles. The
water that comes out of all the possible exit sites is definitely
warmer than normal. Use that and you might be able to give us an
interior map of the place.”
Raven nodded. “All right. I’ll arrange it. But are
you sure you can get markers into position without them or you
being seen?”
“Yes, I am confident. I have assigned myself as captain of
patrols for the next three weeks. This means I leave the city and
make three-day round trips of the various main trails into and out
of the city and check the patrols and guards. In six days I will be
at receptor four. Have what is required ready then. By then I will
tell you where we will meet six days after that. At that time I
will need the map and all information you can give, and if you have
some of the recommended weaponry, I can take that at the time, too.
In eighteen days all else must be provided, and after that we will
require a picket to be established capable of not only picking us
up but supporting our life form. As soon as we have the ring we
will make for a prearranged surface pickup, but it is possible we
may be being chased by that point. When we signal for a pickup we
will need it immediately, not in a few hours.”
“We’ll give you what cover we can,” Raven
promised, “but if we can determine the pickup early we can
rig it to give you more of a chance. All right. We’ll meet
you at receptor four exactly six days from now with what you need
and we’ll have run this problem by everyone. I know this
one’s gonna be a bitch, Takya. We’ll do all we
can.”
The agent nodded. “I know you will.”
“The only problem I can foresee from our end is if Master
System decides to show up and spoil the party,” Star Eagle
noted. “But that society down there is all so open, so
public. They are going to have a very difficult mission.”
“We’ve also got to assume that they will have some
sort of tracer built into that medallion,” Vulture noted.
“That’s what I would have done, anyway. That means that
once that thing is off the planet, it’s gonna be picked up by
every damned sensor in the system.”
“Not just out of the water? That’d buy ’em the
most time for a response,” Raven said worriedly.
“Doubtful. Priests are the only males allowed in the
birthing heiaus if I studied those prints right, and the high
priest attends to the royals, so he’s out of the water at
least now and then.”
Raven looked up. “Huh? Wait a minute. Okay, do what Takya
wants, but let’s also work on an alternate plan. We’ve
already blown almost eight months on this operation, so we can be a
little more patient. Instead of sending our people into an unknown
quagmire of caves and tubes blasting away and looking for a
bedroom, let’s try to wait and take him when he’s
topside. They’re damned near dormant in the daytime—we
didn’t have any trouble gettin’ who we needed that
first time, and this time we don’t give a damn if they get
the hell knocked out of ’em. They got to come up to have
kids! And Takya—Makoa—is high enough she or he can
surely get royal guard duty.”
“A good plan,” Vulture agreed, “but I favor
the direct approach that Takya outlined. It is just a feeling I
have, I admit. Nothing to back it up, really, except experience in
these things. If we were just dealing with Master System and the
Vals, I’d say go your way, but Brigadier
Chi—that’s something else again.”
“You got Chi on the brain,” Raven responded
sourly.
“Perhaps, but I know her. If she has a weakness, it is an
abiding faith in her religion, which is technology. With what
she’s been told of the culture and layout below, and with the
tracer and the hypnocasters, she’s probably satisfied that a
frontal assault without giving her plenty of warning is unlikely
and far too risky. She would put herself in our place. No Vulture,
so the setup below should be adequate. Where they would be
vulnerable in her eyes is just exactly where you say and when you
say. If I were gonna lay out a lot of sophisticated technological
traps I’d put them right there, on that birthing island. They
had nine days—and they took a shuttle craft down, not a mere
fighter or scout. She’s got some sort of trap covering the
easy way, of that I’m sure, and she’ll take into
account our superiority over the natives. No, I’m for going
with those on the planet, as it were. They know the situation
best.”
“You really think this Chi’s that good?”
“I think she and her computers are at least the equal of
us and our computers. Besides, she’s military security,
trained to play this sort of game, and while she’s been stung
once, she got in her licks and knows us much better now—and
with far greater support and resources. I, however, understand her,
too. A crude direct assault is against our character, our pattern
of behavior. We play the probabilities where we can. Let’s
change our method this time. It’s ten to one she’s
prepared least for the direct approach for all the reasons you
name.”
“What Vulture says is logical and consistent,” Star
Eagle put in. “You have noted the weak point. That is the
logical reinforcement, and Takya’s way seems best, all things
considered.”
Takya, too, on the second rendezvous, agreed with Vulture.
“I have already scouted the birthing island for just such
reasons,” the leader below told Raven, “and I smell the
worst kind of trap. At the entrance to the heiau are two new tikis,
a bit wider and bulkier than the usual, and highly polished, as if
made of neither stone nor wood, although those are the only two
materials we ever use. I think, and the others agree, that our
friend Chi borrowed, unknowingly, a trick from our own book. I
think both of those tikis are Vals in monitor mode, without much
power and with the infinite patience of a machine.
That’s her big trap. No, we go in quick, dirty, and
armed to the teeth and to hell with subtlety.”
Takya, or all of them, got the markers placed well enough within
a few days, and Star Eagle was able to maneuver an orbital fighter
to take full scans of the entire complex. It was a horror, possibly
chosen for that reason but certainly not constructed by anyone but
nature. It resembled a plate of worms inside, and there were no
large chambers that obviously were used either for high ceremony or
for a high priest’s comforts. Not that it might not be nice
in there, but it wasn’t going to be easy to find anything.
There were also tunnels that led not to rooms or other tunnels but
rather to active volcanic areas within the mountain, the source of
the warmer waters.
Adapting the weapons was easier. The laser pistols could be
sealed where needed, and were rigged with small destruct systems
that could be activated as needed, overloading the pistol and
causing it to explode or melt. Other devices—small torpedoes,
bombs, visual aids, and the like—were also not difficult to
fabricate. None of the equipment required a great deal of training;
all were based on existing devices that the four below would have
at least encountered before becoming Alititians.
Demonstrating the devices and checking them out proved
relatively easy, although Takya knew that he would have to find
some way of training the other three or at least giving them a
little practice. They were experienced with the pistols, of course,
but the rest required a bit more knowledge, and even the pistols
reacted differently underwater.
“If you surface within a twenty-square-kilometer perimeter
of the Temple center, you’ll be covered by two automated
fighters until we can get to you,” Raven assured him.
“If you need immediate assistance, the hand signal will bring
them in close enough for you to latch on to the webbing we’ll
have on them and transport you to pickup one. Lightning
will be on station no matter what before you reach pickup one if
you’re pursued. If not, it’ll be mere minutes since
I’m gonna stay close anyway. As soon as you can, transmit up.
I’ll activate the destruct signals when everybody’s
aboard. Understand?”
The agent nodded. “I understand. You just had better be
there, Raven. There is much to like about this world and these
people, but that sentiment will not be returned by them when we do
what we must.”
Raven stared at the Alititian. “I let you all down once. I
will never do that again.” It was said with such certainty
that Takya did not for a moment doubt its truth and sincerity.
“Nine days hence,” the Alititian told him. “We
will commence precisely three hours after the common sleep time.
Getting around the guards and day personnel will be no problem, but
there is no way of knowing when we shall be away from there. But by
nightfall we shall have the ring and be away, or we shall be
dead.”
There were, in fact, four man-made additions to the Temple
complex, all of them short tunnels connecting natural ones. Two
came out fairly high up, perhaps only three or four meters from the
surface, while the other two provided opposite end exits from
almost the level of the sea floor. These, then, were the emergency
exits planned just in case the rather passive volcanic activity
grew suddenly more active. It seemed that the priests might be very
good at telling their people that such things were divine
punishments, but as far as priests were concerned, they reserved
the right to run like hell.
Takya was able to deduce the purpose of many of the tunnels and
the regions within the Temple based on the location of the main
entrance and the exits. There would be a formal dressing area for
the priests near the main entrance, which would be very ornamental
and contain something like a makeup table. A separate area nearby
had to be where the sacrifices would be more or less wined and
dined until it was time to fulfill their bloody destiny. Other than
that, there had to be some sort of a headquarters complex where the
priests, acolytes, and high priest lived, and it was almost
certainly arranged in some sort of hierarchical order. The best
guess was from bottom to top. The largest tubes were up there, and
the easiest access to exits. That meant going in near the top.
Sneaking out of their various homes and gathering at the point
where the weapons and gear had been hidden hadn’t been easy
for all of them, but now they were all there, strapping on carrying
harnesses, checking the equipment out, and getting the heft and
feel of the pistols in Alititian webbed hands. Transmuters were
very handy for customization of standard equipment.
Takya looked at them. “We have gone through this as much
as possible and talked and talked about it. Is there any objection
to going now?”
“It is—difficult—to leave,” Han Li
responded. “After so many years of wandering and being a
humble second, I have become very fond of heading a family and of
the family I head. Still, my honor demands sacrifice. I shall
go.”
“The sooner I am free of this place the better,”
Savaphoong grumbled. “I sacrificed my form for this, but not
to spend my life as a worker gnawing on fish. This is what we came
to do.”
Dura nodded. “I share both sentiments, but we do it now or
we might never do it. Let’s begin.”
And, with that, they headed up into the dark upper reaches of
the sea to the man-made exit they’d chosen.
If anyone had ever wandered up here, they, too, would probably
have spotted the exit but would not have entered. Dimly carved into
the black rock but plainly recognizable were several of the most
severe taboo signs in Alititian culture. To go further risked not
only death but eternal damnation. Floating there, and after living
for so long in this culture, the four felt a certain involuntary
hesitation at the sight of them, showing the power of the symbols,
but it was only for a moment. Takya drew a pistol with her right
hand and removed a sensing device with the other and moved in.
Only two meters inside there was a small net stretched across
the tunnel and fastened there, obviously to keep out any denizens
of the deep that might not comprehend taboo symbols. Takya decided
not to tear it out; it might well contain some kind of alarm on the
other side. Instead, she used her needler to cut out the center
portion and then pull it in and away. Then she entered, followed by
the others.
The first section of tunnel was a chamber of horrors, a dark
tube that had been painted with multicolor secretions with every
evil taboo symbol, threat, and vicious god and spirit known to the
Alititians. Clearly the priests wanted a last psychological and
cultural jab at anyone who just might believe the signs outside
didn’t apply to them.
The tube widened out, as the artificial section merged with the
natural structure. There they encountered a second security net,
which Takya dealt with as she had the first one in the outer
passage, and then the horrors were behind them. Now the secretions
were of a more standard type, illuminating the passage and showing,
apparently, just where someone who knew the code to the floor plan
was and how to get to anywhere else. The pirates didn’t know
the plan, however, so Savaphoong removed a small locator beacon and
attached it to the cave roof. He was the tail man and had several
dozen beacons; his job was to place the locators so that they would
clearly mark the route, and when it was time to leave, he had a
device that could tell the numeric order in which any one of them
was placed. They would thus provide a clear but conveniently
invisible trail to follow out of here when it was over.
They reached a roomlike side chamber and found several sleeping
forms there. They had already agreed to take no chances; everyone
and everything that looked like it might move was hit with deep
stun. Takya’s own pistol was set to kill.
It was remarkably, almost disappointingly easy. These people had
no concept of modern weapons or what they could do, and they were
helpless even when awake or awakened by the interlopers until far
too late to do anything but fall over.
It took a bit over an hour to locate the high priest, asleep in
his quarters, and stun him senseless. He had the necklace on, as he
always did, and for the first time they were able to examine the
medallion closely. It was certainly the ring, unless Chi had taken
a leaf from Vulture at Chanchuk and somehow replaced it with a
ringer. It didn’t look fake, though; it looked as if it had
been embedded in that medallion for a very long time. Dura held the
old man while Takya pulled the whole thing off him and stuffed it
in her backpack. Even so, they took the time to check his chest of
personal belongings just in case there was another ring or
medallion there. There was not.
“My turn to lead,” Savaphoong whispered, and
activated his tracker. They encountered a few more awake or
awakened acolytes on the way back, but Dura and Han Li’s
quick pistols took them out. Takya covered the rear, and if
anything was coming that way it would not be stunned but quickly
dead.
Twist, turn, up, right . . . Savaphoong
moved with grace and certainty toward the exit. There was the inner
net, then the cave of terrors that no longer seemed quite so
intimidating, then the second net. He was going very quickly now,
but they didn’t need him to show them the way any more, and
he was back out of there before Dura had cleared the outer net.
They emerged into open water once more, and looked around.
“Where is Savaphoong?” Takya asked, more puzzled than
concerned.
“Here,” responded a voice behind and slightly above
them. They turned and saw the old trader perched on a rocky outcrop
above the exit with two pistols trained on them. “Now drop
your weapons! All of you! I mean it!” He fired very close to
Takya’s arm to illustrate his point.
Takya sighed. “Drop them, all of you. He has his on
lethal.” They did what they were told, the pistols dropping
down as if in slow motion into the darkness below. “Now, what
treachery is this?”
“I want the ring,” Savaphoong replied.
“Isn’t that obvious? There will be no vote on who gets
it. I did not do this to be fourth in line. Just hand the medallion
over and I’ll flick this to wide stun. You’ll all go
out like a light and float to the surface from here, but
you’ll be all right. I, however, shall sadly report how
heroically you died in getting the ring when I alone am picked
up.”
“You’ll never get away with it. They’ll never
believe you,” Dura retorted angrily.
“They don’t have to. They will mourn you, yes, and
perhaps doubt me, but they will have the rings and time will be
pressing. I seriously doubt if they will launch a major search.
Now—quickly! The ring! An alarm is certain in the Temple at
any moment, and they’ll find those cut nets in no
time!”
“You are a turd, Savaphoong,” Takya responded, and
activated something in his hand that Savaphoong had not seen him
palm.
The pistol in the trader’s hand suddenly shimmered and
began to whine. He pulled the trigger but nothing happened. The
pistol suddenly grew very hot, and he was forced to drop it. It
shimmered, then vanished with a loud pop and a hissing sound.
Similar sounds came from far below.
When Savaphoong looked back up, he was facing two expert
harpoonlike crossbows aimed right at him.
“What? . . . ” he managed.
“Automatic destruct. We couldn’t have weapons like
these falling into the hands of the Alititians, could we? All
right—I agree with you on one thing, that time is running
out. Get down here quickly and back inside the cave!”
He looked stricken. “You—you can’t!
They’ll kill me! Or worse!”
“Tough. We’ll kill you right now. In! No
more time! Dura—give him a sample shot in the tail to
motivate him!”
“No, no! I’m moving!” He came down to the cave
opening, but turned. “I wouldn’t really have left you
here! I swear on my mother’s grave!”
“You probably did away with your mother for the value of
her body chemicals,” Takya responded. “In! And
as far in as possible as fast as possible, because in ten seconds
from right now I am going to toss a small bomb in that cave! You
made your gamble and you lost! Now you must pay the bet.”
Savaphoong vanished into the darkness of the cave.
Takya removed a small device and sent it into the cave after
him, then turned and signaled. They were going up and fast.
Savaphoong, however, was not finished yet, at least as far as
his own future was concerned. Betting that as soon as the bomb was
thrown they would leave, he watched it come in, swam to it and
caught it, then threw it back out the cave opening and waited.
In a few anxious seconds there was a brilliant flash of light
and a slight rumbling all around, but it quickly died away. He shot
out of the cave, his first thought to get away from there and fast.
They had hit quick and dirty and most of those they’d shot
with stunners had been acolytes. It was pretty good odds that he,
at least, bringing up the rear most of the time, hadn’t been
recognized, but that did him little good. He thought about his
alternatives.
He could, of course, give chase to them, but they were good and
still had advanced weapons on them. The odds of being able to do
more than get shot or killed were slim, nor would Hawks treat him
with any respect should he somehow manage to get picked up anyway.
The odds were almost certain he’d simply be thrown back
in.
To remain and take a chance that he was not recognized would
present the best odds of long-term survival, but to live down here,
like this, forever—it was unthinkable. Death was
preferable.
There was, however, a third alternative that came to him almost
in a flash of desperation. His chances weren’t very good
doing this, either, but it offered the only real hope for some
long-term gain, no matter how slim that hope was. He had gambled
once and lost; he’d been too sloppy, the result of letting
other people do his dirty work for so long and of sitting sedentary
in his pleasure yacht with little or nothing to do. That was over.
It was time to roll the dice and see if, perhaps, against all odds,
he could come up a real winner this time. At the very least he
would satisfy his honor.
He whirled and began to swim away from the rendezvous point and
away from the city as well, toward a certain island a couple of
hours off. Even as he did so, he could hear the war drums and deep
shell-horn alarms going off, awakening the city to give chase. He
hoped they chased in the right direction, which was well away from
him.
Dura looked back and saw a living sea of black shapes well below
but coming toward them. “I am really missing those pistols
now!” she shouted to them. “That is the whole damned
legion down there and maybe more!”
“Break surface and give the signal, then start swimming
like hell toward the rendezvous point!” Takya shouted back.
“I am going to start dropping bombs at intervals on
twenty-second delays!”
They broke the surface, certain that they were still well within
the surveillance perimeters, raised their right arms three times,
then began to swim. Although it was late in the day and overcast,
the brightness blinded them and the ultraviolet felt less than
comfortable coming invisibly through those clouds. The sea was
choppy, slowing them a bit as well, and each of them worried that
they might not be visible among the rough seas.
The first of a series of giant bubbles broke the surface behind
them, urging them on no matter what. That was the force left from
the first of the bombs dropped on the pursuers, and Takya had
dropped three more by now.
Suddenly they could feel more than see a kind of shade, as if
something huge had come over them, blocking off the hidden
sun’s deadly rays. Han Li reached up, grabbed hold, and
shouted, “It is the fighter! Reach up! Grab on to the
netting!”
They did so, each holding on for dear life, as the fighter then
rose a bit in the air. Even as it did so, they could hear yells and
screams and curses from the water below, and things started
striking and bouncing off the sides of the fighter. Dura screamed
as something struck her tail, followed in a few seconds by a
building, searing pain, but in spite of the shock of it, she hung
on. The fighter accelerated and soon left the war party far below
in the choppy seas, unable to follow.
It settled down gently, hovering less than two meters off the
ground on a tiny, overgrown and neglected island. All three let go
and came down on the ground. It was still nearly impossible to see,
and they had real problems for a moment orienting themselves.
“Dura! Han Li! Are you both there?”
“Yes!” Han Li responded. “But I think Dura is
hurt. Oh! A spear right through the tail on the right
side. I wish I could see better but I will try to pry it out. Dura,
are you ready?”
“Yes.” She gasped. “Get rid of it and help me
to the transmitter. I’ll be all right if we can just get up
to Lightning.”
Han Li pulled with all her strength, although she was slightly
weakened by the sudden switchover to the less efficient breathing
of air, and Dura gave a scream of pain, but the spear came free.
Blood poured from the wound but there was nothing to do but be
quick about it.
Takya was with them. “Over there! It is nearly impossible
to see but there is a large, dark shape there. It must be it!
Come—hold on, Dura! We will get you there!”
Han Li froze for a moment. “I hear a war party
approaching! Some of the watch was alerted and saw where we were
carried. Let us get out of here!”
The door slid back on the special fighter rigged with the
transmitter, and they used all their strength to get Dura inside
and the door closed.
“We have some time,” Takya said reassuringly,
“if Raven is actually up there. The war party has to crawl up
on the island, find us, and they are as blind and exposed as
we.”
There was a clicking sound and then the fighter gave a loud
whine and shuddered slightly. It seemed an eternity until that door
opened again, though, and the war party, hearing the noise, had
shifted its search and was now coming straight for them.
Takya gave the backpack to Han Li. “You next. Take this. I
will follow.”
“No—it is yours! You planned this!”
“No arguments. I should have sent it with Dura. Get it
up! It is all that really matters right now.”
The door opened. Han Li hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the
backpack and pulled herself inside. The door shut and there was
another whine and shudder. The war party sounded pretty damned
close. Too close. She could hear them, and it was getting
dark enough so that she was starting to see a bit. Maybe a minute
or two and that frenzied mob would be upon her. Recycling the
transmuter would take longer than that. She readied a couple of
bombs and reared up on her tail to face her would-be killers.
One of the small covering fighters swooped down, having
calculated the same thing, and began firing into the war party with
devastating effect, shaking the ground. Its weapons weren’t
intended to shoot people but other ships; it was like killing
mosquitoes with a cannon.
The concussion almost knocked Takya down, and she steadied
herself against the side of the transmission fighter and then
almost got crushed when the door came open again. Dizzy, hardly
thinking straight, she managed to get up and pull herself in. The
door shut.
She could hear that a few warriors had made it even through the
fighter fire and were actually at her transmuter. They were
rearing up, beating and pounding on the ship.
There was a sudden click, a disorienting sensation, and all that
noise ceased.
As soon as the last agent was aboard, Raven triggered the
universal destruct and gunned Lightning away from Alititi.
There was no time to waste recovering the fighters; they had
figured, rightly or wrongly, that as soon as the ring cleared the
planet all hell was going to break loose and come down on them
anyway.
Below, all three fighters exploded—along with virtually
every other piece of extraplanetary gear they had
introduced—leaving only twisted hulks, many dead bodies, and
enough new legends for a hundred generations to come.
“Why do you come to this sacred island?” the captain
of the guard challenged. “You have no rank or right to be
here!”
“Be at ease, Captain,” Fernando Savaphoong responded
in his humblest voice. “Send your man below and you will hear
the calls that confirm what I say. Horrible sacrilege has been
committed against the People. The Temple is violated, many priests
and acolytes, even the Highest One, are dead or in strange trances,
and the holy badge of office has been stolen. There are no active
priests. I am commanded to the gates of the sacred heiau to call
upon the gods and the service of the priests therein. Let me past.
I would not violate the heiau, merely plead at the gate.”
The captain nodded to one of his men, who went under, remaining
a good five minutes or so, then emerging once more. “What he
says is true, Captain,” the soldier reported. “It is
said that some of our own people were possessed by demons. There
has been great demon-fire and many deaths among our
warriors.”
The captain didn’t like this, but there seemed little harm
in it. “Very well—to the great guardians of the gate
and no further, or you shall be roasted alive in the
fires!”
“Thank you, kind sir!” Savaphoong responded, and
began the fairly long lizardlike crawl up the road as fast as he
could move.
It was as Takya had said: two new, glistening, mean-looking
tikis had been added on either side of the heiau’s entrance.
He could see how they might be Vals; he sure as hell hoped they
were.
“All right, Vals,” he said in Maurog as loudly and
confidently as he could. “I am Fernando Savaphoong, formerly
of the pirates of the Thunder. I have come to tell you
that my former comrades have just stolen your pretty ring from
under your very noses and that I have decided that I have been
wrong all this time and am surrendering myself to your authority. I
wish to be taken to your commander!”
For a very long moment he was afraid that he had lost this
gamble at the onset, that these were indeed just new tikis and that
Takya had been wrong.
Suddenly one of the tikis turned slightly toward him and asked,
“Why should we just not take your mindprint and dispose of
you now?”
It startled him, but he was so relieved that he never lost his
composure.
“Such a move would give you only the facts that I know. I
can be of far greater value because I have lived and worked with
these people for years. I know how they think, what they will do
next. It will take time to even study and evaluate what I can
freely offer. For example, do not think that this is merely another
lost battle. You have been fooled—we stole the ring on
Matriyeh years ago and replaced it and your Val goddess with fakes.
They have all four rings that were scattered among the stars even
now. The fifth ring is already on Earth, most probably in the hands
of one who knows where to use them even as Hawks of the
Thunder knows how to use them. If you do not wish
to see the pirates become your masters, you had better deal with me
and quickly!”
Again, the slight hesitation, and then one said, “I am
summoning a ship now and transmitting the alarm. We are pursuing.
Having scanned you and seeing nothing threatening, we will accept
for the moment what you say, but you are under arrest nonetheless
on charges of piracy and actions and thoughts against the system.
We will take you to Brigadier Chi as soon as we can arrange for a
pickup.”
Savaphoong rested back on his tail and gave the Alititian
equivalent of a smile. He was back in business.