Страница 48 из 63
"There's nothing here but a sheer cliff," Ross said, disgusted as he let the gig hover over the destination, the single note grating on his nerves.
"That may well be, Ross," Saraidh said, "but I'm getting body-heat readings."
Nev pointed excitedly. "That plateau below us is too level to be natural. And there are terraces below it. See? And what about that path down into the valley? And, hey, this cliff has windows!"
"And is definitely inhabited!" Saraidh exclaimed, pointing to starboard, where a doorway appeared in the cliff face. "Put her down, Ross!"
By the time the Erica had settled to the smoothed surface, a file of people were ru
"The patriarch," Saraidh murmured, straightening her tunic and settling her beaked cap straight on top of her braids.
"Patriarch?" Nev asked.
"Look it up later—if the term is not self-explanatory, Benden shot at him over his shoulder, operating the airlock release. He glanced warningly at the marines, who replaced their drawn hand weapons.
As soon as the airlock swung open and the ramp extruded, the small crowd was silent. All eyes turned to the old man, who pulled himself even more erect, a patronizing smile on his weathered face.
"You finally got here!"
"A message was received at Federated headquarters," Ross Benden began, "signed by a Theodore Tubberman. Are you he?"
The man gave a snort of disgust. "I'm Stev Kimmer. "He flicked one hand to his brow in a jaunty parody of a proper Fleet salute. "Tubberman's long dead. I designed that capsule, by the way."
"You did well," Benden replied. Inexplicably, he suddenly did not care to identify himself. So he introduced Saraidh ni Morgana and Ensign Nev. "But why did you send that capsule to Federation headquarters, Kimmer?"
"That wasn't my idea. Ted Tubberman insisted." Kimmer shrugged. "He paid me for my work, not my advice. As it is, you've taken nearly too damned long to get here." He scowled with irritation.
"The Amherst is the first vessel to enter the Sagittarian Sector since the message was received," Saraidh ni Morgana said, unruffled by his criticism. She had noted that Ross had not given his name and assumed he had his reasons. She hoped that Ensign Nev had also noted the omission. "We've just come from the site on record."
"No one came back to Landing, then?" Kimmer demanded. Benden thought his habit of interrupting Fleet officers could become irritating. "With Thread gone, that'd be the place they'd return to. The ground-to-ship interface's there."
"The interface is inoperative," Benden said, careful not to betray his a
"Then the others are dead," Kimmer stated flatly. "Thread got ‘em all!"
"Thread?"
"Yes, Thread." Kimmer's palpable anger was tinged with deep primal emotions, not the least of which was a healthy fear. "That's what they named the organism that attacked the planet. Because it fell from the skies like a rain of deadly thread, consuming all it touched, animal, man, and vegetable. We burned it out of the skies, on the ground, day after fucking day. And still it came. We're all that's left. Eleven of us, and we only survived because we have a mountain above us and we hoarded our supplies, waiting for help to come."
"Are you positive that you're the sole survivors?" Ni Morgana asked. "Surely the colony grew in the eight or nine years you had before this menace attacked you."
"Before Thread fell, the population was close to twenty thousand, but we're all that's left," Kimmer said. "And you cut it mighty fine getting here. I couldn't risk another generation with such a small gene pool." Then one of the women, who bore a strong resemblance to Kimmer, tugged at his arm. He made a grimace that could be taken for a smile. "My daughter reminds me that this is a poor welcome for our long-awaited rescuers. Come this way. I've something laid by in the hope of this day."
Lieutenant Benden gestured for Sergeant Greene and one other marine to accompany the landing party, then followed Ni Morgana down the ramp, Nev treading on his heels in his eagerness.
The silence that had held Kimmer's small group while he had addressed the spacemen relaxed into gestures and smiles of welcome. But Benden took note of the tension evident in the oldest three men. They stood just that much apart from the women and youngsters to suggest they had distanced themselves deliberately. Their faces had a distinctly Asian cast; jet-black hair was trimmed neatly to their earlobes; they were lean and looked physically fit. The oldest woman, who bore a strong resemblance to the three men, walked just a step behind Kimmer in a ma
The three younger women had mixed-ethnic features, one had brown hair. All were slender and graceful as they tried to contain their excitement. They whispered to each other, casting glances back at Greene and the other marine. At a brusque order from Kimmer, they ran on ahead, into the cliff. The three youngest, two boys and a girl, showed the mixing of ethnic groups the most. Benden wondered just how close the blood bonding was. Kimmer would not have been fool enough to sire children on his own daughters… would he?
Exclamations of surprise were forced from each of the officers as they entered a spacious room with a high, vaulted ceiling—a room nearly as big as the gig's on-ship hangar. Nev gawked like any off-world stupe, while Ni Morgana's expression was of delighted appreciation. Clearly the main living space of the cliff dwelling, the room had been broken up into distinct areas for work, study, dining, and handcrafts. The furnishings were made of a variety of materials, including extruded plastic in bright hard colors. The walls were well hung with curious animal furs and hand-loomed rugs of unusual design. Above those and all along the upper wall space, a vivid panorama had been drawn: the first scene was of stylized figures standing or sitting before what were clearly monitors and keyboards; other panels showed figures plowing and planting fields, or tending animals of all sorts; the illustrations led around to the i
Ni Morgana nudged Benden in the ribs and spoke in a barely audible whisper. "Unlikely as it seems, I've just figured out one way the Oort organisms might have reached Pern. But I'll be damned sure of my theory before I mention it."
"The murals," Kimmer was saying in a loud and proprietary voice, "were to remind us of our origins."
"Did you have stonecutters?" Nev asked abruptly, ru
One of the older black-haired men stepped forward. "My parents, Kenjo and Ito Fusaiyuki, designed and carved all the principal rooms. I am Shensu. These are my brothers, Jiro and Kimo; our sister, Chio." He gestured to the woman who was reverently withdrawing a bottle from a shelf in a long dresser.
With a searing glance at Shensu, Kimmer hastily took the initiative again. "These are my daughters, Faith and Hope, Charity is setting out the glasses." Then, with a flick of his fingers, he indicated Shensu. "You may introduce my grandchildren."