Footfall

“Tiny. No fi’ would fit the small ones. They must be automatic. Two or three might wedge themselves into the large—”

Takpusseh said, “Automatic, perhaps. Perhaps one human each.”

Hardly volunteers… rogues, captured, then forced into ships launched, then expected to perform alone in space and under fire with no similar mind nearby, no contact with the herd… “No. Ridiculous. These are big automatic devices. We would not have built so large.”

“’Now my digits are whole again,’ remember? Human rogues may cooperate.”

It was still nonsense. The devices were tiny. Even a single rogue man would not fit. “Take an acceleration pad, Takpusseh. Remain. Defensemaster, is the drive ready?”

“No, Herdmaster. I need another sixteen sixty-four-breaths. The alien device would need sixteen times as long to reach us. We could move if I had kept the digit ships mounted, but—”

“Better to set them free to defend us, yes.”

The doorway opened. Tashayamp entered, with the human. Takpusseh-yamp curled his digits, a private message of affection. She pretended not to see.

“Tashayamp! Excellent.” The Herdmaster gestured her toward his station. “I will need you to translate. Arvid Rogachev, look at this.”

The human stood tilted, looking about the bridge. He came forward, lurching, gripping consoles and machinery where he could. Screens showed him the intruder pulsing against the dark night side of Winterhome. “What is this?”

“Man, I expect you to tell me that!”

“Lead me.” Rogachev braced himself against a console and continued to watch.

The intruder had resumed acceleration, but more slowly now. The smaller ships diverged on what had to be chemical flame: some toward the two closest of the digit ships now converging from low orbit above Africa; some moving ahead, toward Message Bearer. One enemy flared, then became a fog.

Rogachev spoke in the language of the thuktunthp. “Some fi’ placed weapon well. This is a spacecraft carrying smaller spacecraft—”

“We know that.”

“Bombs make it go. Thuktun students of United States and England consider idea long ago, but we make it against the will of the Fithp of Nations. Query: size of these things?”

“The largest is twice eight-cubed srupkithp. The smallest are five srupkithp in length, no more than one srupk thick.”

“Ah. My fithp may ride such small things, but I thought United States fithp be afraid.”

“The device rose from the North American continent,” Takpusseh-yamp said. That was certain; otherwise it would have been seen. “Rogachev, they have something that is killing our fithp aboard the digit ships. Can you make a device that throws gamma rays in a narrow beam?”

“Not understand.”

“Tashayamp?”

“Shine light like laser at two times eight to minus twelve snipkithp wavelength.”

“Means nothing,” Rogachev said. “I need tools—” He gestured, tapping on his hand with one finger.

“Ah. He wants the calculating device from their space city,” Tashayamp said.

Why did I not understand that? I was shrewd to choose Tashayamp as my mate. “Shall I send for it, Herdmaster?”

“Yes. Rogachev, that sparkle within the explosion—”

“I not understand either. Query: the United States build some rogue device? They did not tell us!” Rogachev laughed, a peculiar, hackle-raising sound.

He should not do that.

The Herdmaster stamped impatiently. “Tashayamp, return Rogachev to the restraint cell.” He turned to Takpusseh-yamp. “The fi’-killer has not heard a fithp or human voice in more than sixty-four days. Will he be sane? Will he be amenable to reason?”

“Herdmaster, I do not know. I believe he will be both sane and reasonable, even though such treatment would make rogues of any normal fi’. Dawson understands how machinery may be used in space. Perhaps we can learn.”

We’re finally fighting back! No, the United States is fighting back, Arvid corrected himself. Never mind. What have they got? Can they win? Can they even catch us? The spin was gone. Gravity was a feather-touch aft. Thuktun Flishithy’s drive took time to build power, but it was possible that the ship could simply outrun the Americans.

“Tashayamp. Query: you usually have warriors with you?”

“For this breath the warriors have better things to do!” Her tone was sharp. The fithp could enunciate, could decrease the air escaping with the words, when they wished. “Here we are.” The key she used was a bar of metal; the lock was magnetic, as Arvid had established long ago. The hatch swung out. “You have sufficient padding, but acceleration may come from abnormal directions. Be careful. Grip when you can. You will be as safe as any fi’ aboard. Now go in.”

The others watched as Arrid swung his body around the edge of the hatch. They saw him grip Tashayamp’s trunk, brace his feet, and pull her digits loose from her handhold.

Tashayamp shrieked. Her first impulse wasn’t to crush Arvid Rogachev; it was to tether herself. Her hampered digits wrapped around the edge of the hatch. Dmitri leapt from below. He crashed into her like a fullback. Then Arvid and Dmitri were pulling her trunk in two directions, pulling her through the hatch. And the hatch was still open.

Tashayamp recovered. Arvid found himself flying. He curled himself into a ball; struck padding; struck again with less force; uncoiled and leapt again. The others had got the idea. Mrs. Woodward and the children huddled in a corner. Jeri, Dmitri, Nikolai looked to be tangled in Tashayamp’s digits. Arvid snatched at her harness as he passed, climbed around onto her back. He found the buckle and loosed the harness.

Straps and a pack. Arvid opened the pack and swung. The contents flew wide. Tashayamp was screaming, thrashing, drifting much too near a wall. If she could anchor her feet in the padding

He swung around her belly, caught the wall with his feet, and kicked away, toward the middle of the cell.

The fi’ seemed to be tiring. Arvid joined the others at her head. “Push them in here,” he shouted, and grasped a digit that writhed like a fire hose…

Five minutes later, a furious fi’ female glared at them over the edge of a bag. Straps were tight around her ears. Dmitri moored other straps behind her forelegs and tightened them. He cast loose and studied the situation thoughtfully. “Is there a reason to betray our true motives now?”

“Thuktun Flishithy is under attack,” Arvid replied. He heard Jeri gasp.

“Right on!” Alice shouted.

“By whom?”

“American. One carrier with missiles and smaller spacecraft. Our last chance, Dmitri. The fithp ca

“I see. Agreed.” Dmitri spoke rapidly in Russian.

“No,” Arvid said.

“No, what?” Jeri demanded.

“It is State Security!” Dmitri shouted in Russian.

“He wishes to kill this fi’,” Arvid said.

Jeri said, “Hey!”

Mrs. Woodward said, “You wouldn’t.”

“Do you think those straps will hold her helpless?” Dmitri shouted. “And so do I, but what do we know? Kill her. Think of India and kill her.”

“Over my dead body,” Jeri said. She moved closer to Tashayamp.

Dmitri shouted in Russian.

Arvid replied. “I will think with what organs I choose. I grant you command, but not in this. Think, Dmitri. Thuktun Flishithy is under attack.”

“By the time they find the Teacher’s mate, we will be beyond their reach. There is no need whatever to kill her.”

“You let women think for you.”

“He doesn’t need women to tell him what’s right,” Carrie Woodward said.

“I like Tashayamp!” Alice said emphatically.

Dmitri looked about him. Arvid, Alice, Jen, and Mrs. Woodward were between him and the fi’ … who had stopped thrashing because of an understandable interest in the topic of conversation.

“Arvid, you may regret this, but it is done. Now let us be gone! Mrs. Woodward, take the children to the Garden. It is never locked, and you should be safe there, if anyone is safe anywhere. Nikolai, Arvid… with me. Jeri? Alice?”