Talbot sat propped against the arm on the big couch and stared out through the window at the sunset bathing the distant trees that covered Rondo Peak. Curious, that. He was wearing Rondo’s robe, looking at the summit where the man had been killed. And here Talbot was, belly full, his wounds treated, a cup of warm tea in his hands.
After the medical, they’d started quizzing him. Listening in detail as he told them about Turalon. Port Authority. Supervisor Aguila coming to Donovan. How the triumvirate was tried for treason and acquitted. The arrival of Freelander.
And finally his flight south with Garcia and Shintzu.
Then came time for chores, and they all vanished, the kids scurrying for their work clothes and the elevator. That had been an hour ago.
The lift clicked into place, the cage opening. He glanced back to see Dya emerge from the foyer, some sort of greenery in a homemade wheelbarrow that she rolled into the kitchen area.
“Need anything?” she called from the kitchen.
“No. I’m fine. Made a cup of tea like you showed me.”
She came striding across the room, slipping work gloves into the belt on her overalls. “Any pain?”
“No. Remarkable salve you’ve got.”
“I’m proud of it. Distilled from blue nasty. That’s a rather rare shrub this far south. Since I already knew it had narcotic qualities, I hypothesized that it could be manufactured into an anesthetic.” She glanced back at the kitchen. “Be right back.”
He watched her pad across the room and turned his attention to the last of the golden light bathing the side of Rondo Peak.
Perhaps ten minutes later she emerged from the door that supposedly led to the personal quarters, this time wearing a casual one-piece synthetic. Not that the garment was sexy, but the way it hung from her broad shoulders and curved around her waist in folds bespoke of something elementally female.
Maybe I’m feeling better.
She pulled a container of something from the refrigeration unit, walked over, and seated herself just down from him. She pulled up a knee, leaned back, and sipped from the drink. “It’s been eight years since we’ve had any contact with the outside. And today Kylee finds you fighting with the old nightmare. Talk about ultimate improbabilities.”
“Hard for you to believe? Put yourselves in my boots.”
“That was really dumb, you three flying out here.”
“I’m well aware, Mrs. Simonov.”
At that she started. Smiled. “Long time since I’ve been called that. Everyone here is first name. Last names sort of died along the way. You’re going to be Mark. Like it or not.”
“Works for me.” He paused. “That daughter of yours. Kylee. I mean, what’s with letting her just wander around out there? Alone. Not even a weapon. Even with armor, I came so close to dying so many times . . .”
He shrugged to emphasize his lack of understanding.
“She wasn’t alone. Rocket was with her.”
“You trust your little girl to the care of an alien alpha predator?”
She fixed hard blue eyes on him. “I trust Rocket more than I’d even trust Rebecca. Kylee and Rocket are bonded. As to what that means, we’re still working it out. Something biochemical. They’re growing together. Maturing together. I’m not sure if it is a sort of symbiosis, but Kylee remains Kylee, and Rocket remains Rocket. She understands quetzal behavior and instincts, but doesn’t manifest them herself. Rocket understands what it means to be human, but doesn’t present himself as human. Call it a work in progress.”
“Your daughter is a science experiment?”
“Oh, God, Mark. We’re all experiments on Donovan. Even you. Tell me that you haven’t absorbed an incredible amount of data about this planet, what lives on it, and how your technology could be better equipped to deal with it.”
“Sounds a little cold, don’t you think?”
Her brow pinched slightly. “Forty of us came here. The first twenty, of which only Rebecca remains, were fourth ship. I came with my parents on the fifth ship. We were to ultimately build three southern research bases that would give us a broad understanding of the forest region south of Port Authority. Sort of a leapfrog on the way to the equator.
“By the time my folks and I arrived, the first twenty were down to three. Five potential locations had been abandoned as hopeless, and everything was relocated here as a last resort. The design that would become Mundo Base had been substantially redrawn into what you now see.
“Su arrived with the last compliment of six to be assigned here. That was nine years ago. Just before we cut contact with Port Authority. Since then, we’ve learned. Figured out how to survive here and adapt to Donovan’s rules. Many of our most important lessons came at a terrible price.”
She waved around. “Three women, eight kids. Rondo was our last husband. So, until the some of the children mature, we’re it.”
“Last husband? Singular?”
“He was a good man, charming. Monogamy in the wild is an unnatural state for most species, even Homo sapiens when you actually dig into the anthropological literature. Our first concern was survival; antiquated cultural baggage like one man, one woman, was a leisure we couldn’t afford. It’s bad enough that we’re down to such a limited gene pool.”
“What about Port Authority?”
She shrugged. “We originally stopped communicating with them because we had trouble with Clemenceau. How do we know that these new people, or this Supervisor of yours, wouldn’t try to come in and take this away from us?”
At the no-give question in her eyes, he could only shake his head. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
Her blonde eyebrow raised. “You do understand the dilemma you now pose for us? Granted, none of the aircars work, so you couldn’t fly out if you wanted. The radio has been disconnected for eight years now. Our last message was that we were abandoning the base and flying straight north to Port Authority. Obviously we never arrived. So, hopefully, we’re long lost, dead, and forgotten.”
“And if I showed up, it would lead to uncomfortable questions.” He nodded, an eerie sense of premonition stirring down inside.
“You can stay here. Learn. Become part of the experiment. We have specific uses for a man. Uses for which you would be most adept. But you do understand, we can’t help you get back.”
“So, you’re saying I’d better stay. And like it?”
She nodded, a coldness behind her eyes.
“And the alternative?” he asked.
“Let’s just say that you wouldn’t like it.”