The trip, including fueling stops, took eight days.
It wasn’t nearly as bad as Jack had expected it to be. Alison kept mostly to herself, coming out of her cabin for meals and sometimes to play games on the dayroom computer terminal. Other than that she spent most of her time sleeping or writing in a small notebook she always kept with her.
She didn’t poke or pry around the ship in the middle of the night, either. Jack had half-expected her to try that. Uncle Virge was clearly annoyed that she didn’t.
Twice she accepted Jack’s invitation to pair up for one of the two-player games he hadn’t played since Uncle Virgil’s death. He beat her both times, but by a much smaller margin the second time. Clearly, she was a fast learner.
For all her hermit tendencies, her mealtime conversation was bright and cheerful. But it was mostly empty words, the sort of chatter Uncle Virgil had taught Jack how to do when he wanted to fill time without actually saying anything. Jack’s efforts to get past the surface froth got him nowhere.
Which was extremely irritating, and not just for Jack. By the fourth day Uncle Virge, who was as frustrated at Jack’s failures to dig anything out of the girl as Jack himself was, began pushing for Jack to let him have a go at her.
It was a ridiculous suggestion, of course. Even if Uncle Virge was careful with his voice and mannerisms, Alison would be bound to notice the sudden change in the computer’s personality. But he kept pushing, until Jack finally had to give him a direct order not to bring it up again.
That stopped the demands. But it did nothing to lower the tension. Between Uncle Virge’s sulking and Alison’s useless conversation, Jack was thoroughly sick of both of them by the time they finally reached Rho Scorvi.
“There,” Alison said, pointing out the cockpit canopy at a large, dark green forest at the edge of a wide plain. “That’s where they’ll be putting down.”
“Nice,” Jack commented, studying the area. The forest was about a hundred miles across, lying mostly to the east of a range of snow-covered mountains. A churning river rolled down the slopes, widening as it went, cutting through the center of the forest and then continuing eastward across the plain. “If you like that sort of thing.”
“I take it you don’t?”
“I prefer my nature in nice, neat layer gardens,” Jack said. “So what are they coming here for?”
“There’s a colony of nomads that travel around the edge of the forest,” she said. “My friends are supposed to be doing some trading with them.”
“What kind of trading?”
“Some kind of wild herbs, I think,” Alison said. “I’m a little foggy on the details. The Erassvas—those are the natives—hang around the edge of the forest picking fruit, digging up roots, and pulling edible bark off the trees. They get clothing materials from other plants.”
“Hunter-gatherer types, then?”
“Right, minus the hunter part,” Alison said. “They’re nomadic, too. Once they’ve cleared out an area, they move on around the edge of the forest. By the time they’ve made a complete circle, it’s been a couple of years and the stuff’s all grown back.”
“Sounds like your basic Garden of Eden,” Jack suggested.
“More or less,” Alison agreed. “They just have to make sure they don’t go too deep into the forest, where all the nastier creatures live.”
“How nasty?”
“I don’t think anyone knows,” she said. “No one’s ever seen them, except maybe the Erassvas, and they’re not talking. But there are legends, and the handful of researchers who’ve gone into the forest have found and documented some very intriguing claw marks on trees and even on some of the big rocks.”
Jack winced. That sounded ominous. “Lucky for us, we aren’t going in there,” he said, keying in the landing sequence. As he did so, there was a quiet beep from the board. “Computer?” he asked, frowning.
“Another power glitch,” Uncle Virge confirmed. He was still trying to sound like a normal P/S computer, but Jack could hear the tightness in his voice. “Still unable to locate the source.”
Jack drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the edge of the control board. This was the third time since leaving Bigelow that this mysterious power dip had happened, as if some system aboard the Essenay had suddenly decided to take an extra helping of power without telling anyone. Uncle Virge had run the diagnostics a dozen times but hadn’t found anything out of place. “Any ideas?” Jack asked, looking over his shoulder at Alison.
She shook her head. “I just hope it’s nothing serious.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about it much longer,” Jack said. “Computer, do you have a line on those nomads yet?”
“I’m picking up a group of beings at the southern edge of the forest,” Uncle Virge said. “I’m not sure how many—the forest canopy is scrambling the infrared readings.”
“That’s probably them,” Alison said. “There shouldn’t be anyone else around. I’ll go get my stuff together.”
“Need any help?” Jack asked with just a touch of sarcasm. At their first fueling stop, at Jack’s suggestion, Alison had gone off to do some shopping. From the size of the two travel bags she’d lugged back to the Essenay, he figured she’d decided to get started on next year’s wardrobe.
“I can manage,” she assured him. If she’d noticed the sarcasm, she didn’t mention it. “See you.”
She left the cockpit. “You really can’t track this power glitch?” Jack asked when she was out of sight.
“No, and it’s driving me crazy,” Uncle Virge said irritably. “It’s like there’s an intermittent power drain somewhere. Probably in the ECHO.”
“Why in that particular system?” Draycos asked.
“Because the only time it shows up is when we come back into normal space,” Uncle Virge said. “There’s a pulse in power utilization right as we shut the ECHO down; then a few minutes later we get this dip effect, like something is sucking up extra power.”
“Could it be a problem with the cooldown?” Jack suggested. “Some wire contracting too fast and making contact where it’s not supposed to?”
“If it is, it’s not showing on the diagnostics,” Uncle Virge said. “I’m probably going to have to do a systematic shutdown to isolate it. But I don’t think we want to hang around this rock while I do that.”
“On the other hand, we may have the necessary time to spare,” Draycos said. He jabbed his tongue toward the sensor display. “I see no sign of any ship.”
“So?” Uncle Virge asked.
“If her friends have been delayed, Alison may be marooned,” Draycos said patiently.
“All Jack promised was to bring her here,” Uncle Virge said tartly. “He never said we’d stay and hold her hand.”
“We cannot simply fly away and abandon her,” Draycos insisted.
“It’s none of our business,” Uncle Virge insisted right back. “Besides, there’s half a chance she won’t want us to see who it is who comes to get her.”
“Can we just get down there?” Jack interrupted. “We can decide later whether or not to throw her a going-away party.”
The winds sweeping over the mountains made the approach trickier than Jack had expected. But Uncle Virge was equal to the task, and soon they had passed over the snowcovered peaks and were flying over the river on their way to the forest below.
“Interesting,” Draycos commented, the side of his triangular head pressed against the canopy as he tried to look straight down. “I do not believe I have ever seen water quite so chaotic.”
“They’re called rapids,” Jack told him. “Fast and shallow water running over big rocks just below the surface.”
“Actually, the only rapids I spotted are higher up the mountain,” Uncle Virge said. “The water along here is really pretty deep.”
Jack frowned. “Then what’s causing all the white water?” he asked, maneuvering the Essenay a few yards to the side to give him a better view of the river.
“Probably have some underwater springs coming in under pressure,” Uncle Virge said. “I can’t tell for sure—there’s a lot of silt churning around down there throwing off my sensors.”
“So it’s like a free-flowing spa tub?” Jack suggested.
“A free-flowing spa tub for walruses,” Uncle Virge said. “That water’s mighty cold.”
“I wasn’t suggesting we take a dip,” Jack assured him, turning his attention to the forest. Close up, it looked even darker and more ominous than it had from low orbit. “You spotting any technology at all down there?”
“None,” Uncle Virge said. “As far as I can tell, this place is as primitive as you can get in the Orion Arm.”
“I guess Gardens of Eden are supposed to be that way,” Jack said, shifting his eyes to the more cheerful-looking plain at the forest’s southern edge. “Well, let’s get to it. The sooner we drop Alison, the sooner we can get back to the job of rescuing Draycos’s people.”
Given their apparent lack of technology, Jack had halfexpected the colony of Erassvas to scatter in panic as the Essenay flew past overhead and then settled to the ground a hundred yards from the forest.
Not only did they not scatter, but most of them didn’t even bother to look at the big metal bird that had invaded their territory. “Certainly are calm types,” Uncle Virge commented as Jack shut the ship’s systems down to standby.
“It’s better that than the alternative,” Jack said. “Draycos, can you see all right?”
“I am fine,” the dragon assured him. “And I can hear and smell, as well. If there are any predators nearby, I should detect them before they become a threat.”
He pushed against Jack’s shirt as he lifted his head from Jack’s shoulder. “Or is that not what your question meant?”
“Yes, it was,” Jack said, grimacing. Sometimes the dragon read his mind a little too well.
Alison was waiting at the air lock, her two travel bags at her sides. “I’m told there are enough traders and mining speculators poking around these colonies that there should be at least one or two Erassvas in the group who speak English,” she told Jack as he keyed the outer door. “You might want to let me do the talking, though.”
“Be my guest,” Jack said, gesturing her to go ahead of him.
“Thanks.” She gestured at the tangler Jack had belted at his waist. “And you’ll want to keep that in its holster, too.”
“It’s just a tangler,” Jack said.
“With shock rounds?”
“Low-current variety only,” Jack assured her. “Just enough juice to stun most beings without damaging them.”
“Good,” Alison said. “Keep it in its holster anyway.”
The Erassvas hadn’t been much interested in the Essenay’s approach. They were just as uninterested in the two humans walking across the hairlike grass toward them. A couple of the aliens looked up but then returned calmly to their work of picking berries off the colorful vines that grew up the sides of the trees.
“What?” Alison asked.
“What do you mean, what?” Jack growled.
“You were muttering something.”
“Oh.” Jack hadn’t even noticed he was speaking. “I was just thinking.”
“About…?”
He gestured at the Erassvas. “I did some berry-picking work a while back. It wasn’t very pleasant.”
“Ah,” Alison said. “Well, in the future, if you want to talk to yourself, talk a little quieter.”
Clamping his jaw firmly shut, Jack kept walking. Focusing his attention on the aliens, he tried to force back the memories of the Brummgan slave camp.
The Erassvas were actually quite human looking, if bald, pale-skinned creatures who looked like overweight sumo wrestlers could be said to look human. The twenty children Jack could see were already starting to fill out, while the thirty or forty adults were just plain huge. It was a wonder that their stubby legs could even carry all that weight.
But apparently they could. The Erassvas seemed quite comfortable as they moved back and forth among the trees, picking berries and either eating them right there or else putting them into one of the massive pockets in the heavy greenish-brown robes they wore wrapped kimono-style around their bulk.
Their arms were as strong as their legs, too. Jack watched as an adult weighing at least three hundred pounds hauled himself up on one of the branches, chin-up style, to check out a vine running along the top.
One of the few aliens who had bothered to watch the Essenay’s landing looked over again as the visitors approached. He looked them up and down, then detached himself from the group and waddled over to meet them. “A noon sun and satisfied belly to you,” he greeted them in heavily accented English. His smile was wide, seeming to split his face in half, and his eyes were half-closed and rather dreamy looking. “I am Hren.”
“A noon sun and satisfied belly to you, as well,” Alison said, bowing her head toward him. “I’m Alison. This is Jack.”
“Fine names for ones so young,” Hren said approvingly. “Have you come to join in our midday song?”
Jack glanced at the sun, which wasn’t even close to being overhead. The Erassvas apparently scheduled their rest breaks early. “I’m afraid not,” Alison said. “I’ve come to meet up with two others of our people.”
“None such has been seen here for many songs,” Hren said, some of the dreaminess going out of his eyes as he frowned thoughtfully at her. “Are you sure you do have the right place?”
“I’m sure,” Alison said. “But they may have been delayed. Would you mind if I waited here for them?”
“Your company would be as sweet as a bishti berry,” Hren said. “And since you are here, will you not please join us in our midday song?”
He looked at Jack. “You, especially, would be most heartily welcome.”
Jack frowned, throwing a sideways look at Alison. “Me?”
“Yes,” Hren said, smiling knowingly. “Because of—” He broke off, waving a hand at Jack’s chest. “But come,” he went on, looking at Alison. “You all are welcome.”
“We all?” Alison asked. “Don’t you mean we both?”
A slight frown creased Hren’s face. “Perhaps I use the wrong word,” he said. Puckering his lips, gazing out into space as if in deep thought, he reached a wide hand to the front of his robe. For a moment he flapped it in and out as he fanned air onto his torso. Then he let go, leaving it partway open at the neck.
And Jack froze. Starting from the big Erassva’s right collarbone and curving around over his shoulder to his back was a wide green-and-brown tattoo. An image of a large, serpentine creature.
Only it wasn’t just any serpentine creature. And it wasn’t a tattoo.
It was a K’da.
“Thank you for the offer—” Alison was saying.
“Yes,” Jack cut her off. “We would be honored to attend your song.”