Postmarked The Stars Part 12

"No-well, maybe, yes. They raise lathsmers more and more because they're all that's worth exporting. A one-crop world and no new holdings-" The grim set of his jaw was more p.r.o.nounced now.

"I'm a ranger. It's never been my concern to do more than patrol, do some mapping and exploring, make the rounds of the border holdings. But, the Council-someone must have realized what was happening!"

"Undoubtedly," Tau agreed. "It remains to be seen if this situation wasn't given impetus to go along on just the road it has been traveling. You saw how those dragons finished off the lathsmers-and they were developed via radiation from the modern lathsmer embryos. Suppose one of those horrors behind the force field, or that antline, were to overrun the perching fields? Or one of those boxes be planted in some outlying district to affect all the birds coming near it-"

"The sooner we get to Cartl's and the com there," said Meshler, "the better!" And the note in his voice matched the set of his jaw.

It was not long before the river formed a vee with its tributary, and Meshler turned the flitter to follow the smaller stream, which was ice-roofed in places. A little later they crossed the first of roughly cleared fields with a roost set up. But there were no lathsmers. And the light skim of snow on the ground was unmarked by tracks.

That first field fed into another, also bare of life. Meshler turned the flitter and made a low run over the clearing.

"I don't understand. These are breeding fields-they are the main roosting sections."

Once more he thumbed the com and sent out his futile call. But the interference, though not as ear-torturingly loud, was still present. He raised again to cruising level and sent the flitter ahead at the highest rate of speed.

Two more fields-and in the last the birds were gathered, black ma.s.ses of them, milling about. When the shadow of the flitter moved across them, they seemed to go mad with fear, rus.h.i.+ng around, some of the smaller ones trampled upon as they wheeled and stretched their ineffectual wings, attempting to fly. The birds made a dark heaving ma.s.s, and then the flitter was past.

"I suppose," Tau said, "that such a gathering as that is not natural."

"No," Meshler replied in a single curt monosyllable.

There was a screen of one of those brush-woods and then more fields, which had been more carefully cleared than those for the lathsmers. Here the stubble of some kind of crop p.r.i.c.ked through the snow. The river made a long curve and in its bend was the holding.

It was not a house but rather a series of houses and buildings constructed in the form of a square. In the midst of that was a com tower, set well above the outer walls, and bearing halfway up its length the symbol that was Cartl's brand, which would appear on all he sold.

The houses were of stone blocks, but there were roofs of clay, their lower layers, as Dane knew from the inform tapes he had read, baked into tile consistency but overlaying that other earth, which was thickly studded with bulbs. In the spring those would bloom in colorful array, and in the fall their seeds were carefully gathered and ground into a powder that was the planet subst.i.tute for off-world caff.

For a world without any native dangers, or so Trewsworld had been designated, Dane thought that the cl.u.s.ter of structures had the appearance of a fort. The houses, their doors all opening on a court within, were linked one to the next with clay walls again planted with bulbs.

A smooth length of ground just outside the gate was the vehicle park. There was a crawler drawn to one side and a smaller scooter, which Dane would have thought too light to travel this rough and roadless country. Meshler set down their flitter there.

The ranger swung out almost before the vibration of the motor was stilled. Cupping his hands about his mouth, he gave a loud hail.

"Ho, the house!"

It would seem that Cartl's holding was as inexplicably empty of life as the first two lathsmer fields had been. Then from out of the wall before them a voice called thinly, "Name yourself!"

Meshler threw back his hood so that his face could be clearly seen.

"Wim Meshler, ranger. You know me."

The voice did not answer. They stood waiting in the cold, Dane holding the brach. Then the heavy door grated open only part way.

"Come, and quickly!"

The urgency in that was enough to make Dane glance over his shoulder. This place had all the marks of a fort under siege. But who-or what-had driven the inhabitants to this extremity? They had seen no living thing except the lathsmers, though the wild fear of those had been a warning that all was not well.

He crowded through the narrow s.p.a.ce the gate had opened. Then the man waiting there slammed the portal shut as if he expected death itself to follow in upon their heels and dropped in place a bar to lock it.

The householder was a tall man, wearing a s.h.a.ggy coat loose about his shoulders as a cloak, the empty sleeves flapping as he moved. He was of a different racial stock than Meshler, being dark of skin, as dark as Rip, his hair a wiry brush, as if encouraged to stand so from his head.

He wore a s.h.i.+rt of lathsmer skin, the inner down left on, though rubbed away here and there by the friction of use, belted in with a wide belt that carried the customary two knives of the holdings men, one at the fore for eating and general use, the ornamentally sheathed one to the back as a sign of adulthood, to be used on the now rare occasions of honor-feud.

His leggings and boots were of furred hide, and with the s.h.a.ggy coat he seemed as well "feathered" as his lathsmers. But there was something new. In his hand he carried an old-time projectile gun, such a weapon as Dane had seen only in museums on Terra, or which was used on a few primitive worlds where blaster charges were too expensive for importation and the settlers had made their defenses of native materials.

"Meshler!" The man held out his hand, and the ranger laid his beside it, so they clasped each other's elbow in the customary greeting.

"What's going on?" demanded the ranger, not introducing his greeter.

"Perhaps you can tell us," returned the other as sharply. "Or rather tell Jaycor's widow. He got back here last night just-And all he could tell us was a garbled story about monsters and men. He had been inspecting the far fields when they savaged him."

"Savaged him?" echoed Meshler.

"Right enough. I never saw such wounds! We forted up when we discovered the com was ng-interference! Kaysee took the flitter to the port. But that was before we realized that Angria and the children weren't back! I tried to reach them via com at Vanatar's-no chance. Inditra and Forman took off in the big hopper for there." He spilled it in a rush of speech as if he needed badly to tell someone. Meshler, who had kept the arm grip, now cut into that flow.

"One thing at a time. Vanatar-then he is establis.h.i.+ng his holding at last?"

"Yes, they called us by com for a gathering to clear. I had the shakes again, but Angria, Mabla, Carie, and the children and Singi, Refal, Dronir, Lantgar-they all went in the freight flitter. Kaysee had to make the west rounds, Jaycor the east, and Inditra and Forman were setting up the new tooling shed. And what will I tell Carie-Jaycor dead! We set for the noon news from the port day before yesterday. Got only some story about criminals off a trader making trouble and then-slam-interference. We haven't been able to get through since.

"Kaysee got back all right. But Jaycor was late. Then we saw the crawler coming, weaving all over the place, as if it were running on its own. It just about was. Jaycor was in the driver's seat, almost dead. He said something about men and monsters out of the woods-then he was gone!

"We couldn't use the com, so Kaysee said he'd lift in to the port. Inditra and Forman got the hopper to working and went off to Vanatar's to see about the women. With these d.a.m.ned shakes I was no good for anything. Ya, here they come again!"

The tall man began to shudder violently and instantly Tau stepped forward to steady him. "Vol fever!"

"Not quite," Meshler returned. "It acts like vol, but the reserbiotics won't cure it. They haven't found anything that will yet. Maybe you can do something for him."

The shudders that ran through the overthin body of the settler made him sway back and forth. His head rolled limply back, and he might have fallen to the ground had not the ranger and the medic held him up between them.

"Get him to bed and warm," Tau said. "Reser may not work, but warmth will help."

They half led, half supported him between them to the middle house opposite the gate, and Dane hastened ahead to throw open the door.

That warmth was a remedy used by the settlers was plain, for there was a blazing fire in the wide, deep fireplace, and before it someone had pulled a cot with a tangle of thick blankets. They lowered the man to this, and Tau packed him in a coc.o.o.n of coverings, while Meshler went to a pot hanging on a rod that could be swung around to lower it over the flames. He sniffed at the steaming contents and picked up a cup from a nearby table and a long-handled spoon, which he used to transfer some of the contents of the pot into the cup.

"Esam brew," he explained. "It's hot enough to warm up his insides. But he's in for a stiff bout by the looks of it."

Tau braced up the well-covered man and, with Meshler's aid, got a cupful of liquid down his throat. But when they lowered him again, he seemed to have lapsed into unconsciousness.

Dane set down the brach, who padded over to crouch in the full heat of the fire. The alien gave such a sign of relief and pleasure that Dane wondered how he had been able to stand the cold of most of their wayfaring.

"He is the only one here?" Tau nodded at his patient.

"The way he said it, yes. That's Cartl. He must be half crazy, what with the shakes and knowing he daren't try to reach the women himself. In this cold he would black out if he tried it."

"This Vanatar-so there is another south holding?" Dane asked.

"I knew Vanatar had been talking about coming for about two years now but not that he had really decided. He must have made up his mind in a hurry. Anyway, I've been on detached duty and not on field patrol. Let's see-"

He walked to the left wall, and when Dane followed him, the Terran saw there was a map painted there. Portions with the more or less regular lines of such fields as they had flown over were colored yellow, the uncleared land gray. But to the east was the edge of another set of boundaries, these dotted in as if not permanent.

"Vanatar had this surveyed about five years ago." Meshler indicated the dotted area. "Then he was in two minds about ever taking it up. It lies east and farther south."

Dane examined the gray blot of the wilderness. Where in that was the wood of the force field, the basin? Or was that area on this map at all?

"Vanatar would have no defenses. And a gathering-they would be spread out, working on field barriers all over, women and children watching. If those monsters came at them-" Meshler's half-finished sentences needed no clarification for Dane.

"Take our flitter and try to pick them up?" Tau suggested as he joined them.

"Couldn't take them all at one time," but Meshler was thinking about it.

"This com interference," Dane asked, "how far do you suppose it reaches?"

Meshler shrugged. "Who knows? At least when Kaysee gets to the port, he can bring help."

"There's the LB," Dane said. The LB with Rip and Ali-and that box planted near. What if those for whom it had been intended now knew where to look for it?

But Meshler misunderstood him. "You couldn't fly that. And besides, we have no way of contacting those on board her. At any rate, they will have been taken back to port already."

"There's something else." Tau stood looking intently at the ranger. "What did this Cartl say about criminals off a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p? That sounds as if our men may be in worse trouble than when we left. And this mess is of your making, not ours! The sooner the authorities realize that, the better."

Meshler looked exasperated. "I know no more of what is going on at the port than you do. What matters most is right here and now. We've got to see about those people at Vanatar's. Have you tried that detect lately?"

What might lie behind that question Dane did not know, but Tau unhooked the detect from his belt and pressed its b.u.t.ton. And the a.s.sistant cargo master was close enough to see that the needle swung swiftly, not in a confined s.p.a.ce between two of the markings, but halfway around the dial, speeding between north and south points in a whirl, as if it were drawn by two equal forces at once.

"What does that mean?" demanded the ranger.

Tau turned it off, examined the box closely, then started it again, holding it at a different angle. It was to no purpose, for the needle still spun in the same direction as before, still as if it were trying madly to record two different sources of radiation at opposite ends of the compa.s.s.

"Can mean only two strong readings," Tau replied.

"Their box and perhaps the LB one!" Dane made a guess. Could the radiation broadcast from the south have stimulated that of the box they had buried to a higher output? If so, how would that affect the LB? But Ali and Rip had had orders to take those left behind in the escape craft into the port. Did it mean they were still there, in the path of possible trouble?

"Could it pull"-Meshler still stood with his hand on the Vanatar section of the wall map-"those things to it?"

"Who knows? Both sources are strong," was the medic's answer.

"There is something." Dane was trying to remember a conversation he had heard on the Queen. The com system had been Ya's duty, and all Dane knew were the basic fundamentals of sending and receiving should the need he do so arise. But Ya had been yarning once with Van Ryke, and he had said something about being jammed by a jack s.h.i.+p and what they had done to get a signal through for help. It had been a pulsating counter-jam, which spelled out a crude message by ebb and flow. It was too technical for him to try, but this holding had a com, and someone had to be able not only to operate it but also to know enough to keep it in expert repair.

"What?" Meshler was impatient.

"Something I heard once. Who runs the com here?"

"Cartl mostly. He was a tech at the port when he first came. Got enough planet credit to take up this section. But the com's no good-or-we can see-" He crossed the room swiftly to where a com board almost as complex as that of the Queen was built into one corner. The crackle of answer when he opened the beam was not so hard on the ears, but it was steady.

"Still jammed."

Dane looked now to the medic. "How sick is he? Could he come around enough to try something with the com?"

"If this follows the vol fever pattern, he'll be pulling out in about four or five hours. He'll be weak and shaky then, but clear-headed enough. Trouble is I don't know how many bouts he's had, and that makes a difference."

"He can't do anything with the com anyway," Meshler protested. "Don't you think he must have tried earlier?"

"He tried only straight sending," Dane answered. "There's counterinterference by pulsation. And if they have someone with a keen ear on the receiving end at the port-"

"Ya's story about the Erguard!" Tau caught him up. "You might have something at that. But we'll have to wait until he comes around."

Meshler looked from one trader to the other. "You may know what you are talking about. I don't, but I don't see that we have much choice. I am not even sure I can locate Vanatar's holding site."

15. RESCUE ATTEMPT.

At last they had real food again. Dane sat at the table where a round of cold lathsmer breast was flanked by a hash of native grains and berries and found it very good indeed after days on one-quarter E-ration tube per meal. Outside, the night closed in, and Tau kept close watch on the semiconscious Cartl, who now and then muttered unintelligibly. There had been no return of those who had gone to Vanatar's, nor of the men who had taken off after them. Nor any sound from the com they had left turned on low, save the clatter that cut them off from help.

"How far are we from the LB?" Dane drank the last of a heated brew and set down his mug to face Meshler squarely.

Twice the ranger had gone to the wall map and studied its lines, ever running his finger along some as if to a.s.sure himself they were recorded there. Now he approached the the table.

"Perhaps two hours' flying time at normal speed," he answered. "But why? Your men won't be there. They were to be picked up soon after we left. And they would take the box, too."

"Would they?" questioned Tau. "What about the detect report? I don't think that would register if the box had been taken all the way to the port. What do you have in mind?" he asked of Dane.

"If we had the box and brought it south, I wonder-could it draw the monsters away?" He was fis.h.i.+ng, grasping for any hope, no matter how small.

Tau was shaking his head. "Not when we don't know enough about its action. Dane, get me some more of that drink!"

Cartl was moving in the thick wrappings of covers the medic kept piled about him, striving to rid himself of their weight. Dane went to the steaming pot, poured out what was left-half a mug of the aromatic stuff-and brought it to the medic.

"Take it easy now." Tau spoke Basic and supported the settler with an arm about his shoulder. He set the cup to Cartl's mouth, and the other drank off its contents thirstily. Then with Tau's help he sat up, pus.h.i.+ng aside the covers. He was no longer shaking, and there was intelligence and purpose back in his dark face.

"How long was I out?" was his demand.

"About three hours," Tau answered. "You must have been in the last stages of this bout."

"Angria-the children-the rest of them?"

He must have read the answer on Tau's face. His hand went to the back-belted knife. "Then-" But he did not finish that foreboding.

"Listen." Dane moved around in front of him. He did not know what Cartl pushed by fear for his family might do, but he felt that it was now or not at all that he must discover whether the settler had the experience to tackle the com problem. "The com's still jammed. But there is a way we might just get a message through and ask for help."

Cartl frowned. He did not look at Dane at all. Instead, he had drawn the honor knife and was running the blade lightly across the ball of his thumb, as if testing its keenness.

"The com's jammed," he repeated absently. Then he turned to Meshler. "You came in a flitter. Let me take that-I'm free of the shakes now."

"For how long?" Tau's demand was so emphatic that it caught Cartl's attention, and he did look to the medic. "You are over this bout, yes. But cold will bring on another. And if you start and then black out, what good will that do you or anyone else? Listen to Thorson here. You may not have heard of what he has to say, but we know that it worked before in a similar situation. You are a com-tech by training, so this should be a way to help your people."

"What is it then?" Now Cartl did give his attention to Dane, but there was an impatience about him, as if he expected to hear nothing of use and resented the trouble of giving judgment.

"I'm no com-tech, and I don't know your technical terms-but this is what a Free Trader did when his s.h.i.+p was jammed by a jack after his cargo." And he gave the story stripped to bare details.