For Love and Glory Page 3

  The boat slipped forth onto the water. Clouds westward loomed ever higher and darker. The wind had strengthened. “A storm seems to be brewing at sea,” Lissa remarked. “Do you think it’ll come this far inland?”

  “I’d guess not,” Hebo replied. “Though by now, don’t your people, with all their instruments and observations, know the weather patterns pretty well? Dzesi and I haven’t been here but a short while, and have hardly gotten around at all.”

  “Coming straight down, with scarcely any study from orbit first—wasn’t that a little—reckless?”

  He shrugged. “Life’s a crapshoot, however you play it.”

  Some of his words and phrases were strange to her; she had to take their meaning from context. Archaic, she supposed. Well, in many ways he was archaic himself.

  The boat arrived. He made fast and offered a hand to help her up the metal flank. She didn’t need it, but enjoyed the contact. [30] Mainly, her attention was underfoot, on intricate low-relief patterns that possibly bore—circuits, receptors, transmitters, receivers—?

  They halted on top and stood mute. The wind tossed her hair and ruffled the stream. The sun glowed dull and huge. Creatures leaped briefly out of the water or winged in noisy hordes.

  She looked to and fro, the length and breadth of the mystery. Awe nearly overwhelmed her. “What is it?”

  He chuckled. “Wouldn’t Dzesi and I like to know?”

  “You must have learned something.”

  “Of course. I think.”

  Eagerness throbbed. “What?”

  He shook his head. “Uh-uh. The idea is to sell information, not give it away. We haven’t got any institution supporting us, nor professional prestige to gain by publishing.”

  She had been turning that question over at the back of her mind. “I can’t promise anything,” she said slowly, “but I can do my best—and I know some influential people who’d probably agree—I can try to arrange that you be rewarded for what you’ve done.”

  He beamed. “Hey, that’s really sweet of you.” He moved in on her.

  She retreated a step, pretending she did it casually. “Only fair. The discovery is a tremendous contribution. And whatever you’ve learned is that much work already done.” Keep this practical, impersonal. “However, I’ll have to know what to tell those people.”

  “Quite the little bargainer, aren’t you?” he said, more amicably than she liked. “Well, reasonable. But I’ve got to dicker too. I’ll give you a quick and dirty outline if you want, and keep our exact facts and figures under the table till later.”

  She smiled. “Besides, this is hardly the place for a scientific lecture.” Nor are you in shape to give one, she judged.

  “No,” he agreed. “We can talk comfortably over a drink, the two of us.”

  [31] “Our partners deserve to be there,” she answered warily. Divert him. “Could you give me some slight notion of, of what to expect?”

  “A sketch of that outline? Why not?” He gestured grandiosely. “This is doubtless a self-growing, self-renewing device. Same principle as we often use, but way superior. Nothing we can make could maintain homeostasis anywhere near as long as this has. Well, of course the plan, the chemistry, everything’s entirely unlike our stuff.” His words gathered momentum. “We’ve traced its configuration electronically, sonically— Hm, am I a poet? Anyhow, it sits on the river bottom, but extends deep roots to anchor itself and extract the minerals it needs to repair the, uh, ravages of water and weather and radiation and what-all else. Deep. Clear through bedrock, way into lower strata. Dzesi and I think it is, or was, an observatory, taking data on everything that comes in range, geology, atmosphere, life, everything, maybe down to the molecular level.”

  “Yes, it’s usually supposed that’s what the Forerunners wanted in these regions, information. Why they then abandoned their network and never returned—”

  “Who knows? This thing isn’t dead. We register traces of power, probably drawing on solar energy. As you’d expect, since it still resists erosion. Self-repair. But we can’t find out exactly what’s going on.”

  Lissa shivered in the wind.

  Hebo gave her a broad smile. “There, will that do for a synopsis? How about now we relax and enjoy ourselves?”

  “For a while, perhaps. With our friends. Frankly,” and honestly, “I’m almost ready for bed.”

  “Me too. Though not sleep, huh?” He leaned close. “Not right away.”

  She took another backward step. “What do you mean?” She knew full well.

  “You’re a mighty attractive woman, Lissa. Even if it hadn’t [32] been quite a dry spell for me, you’d stand out.” He laughed. “In every way, but especially two.”

  “Hold on, there,” she snapped.

  “Been a while for you also, I hope. Our partners are of opposite sex to us, but that doesn’t help, does it? They aren’t built right. Come on,” he coaxed. “I’m good. I’ll bet you are too.”

  “No.”

  He reached and caught hold of a buttock. She sprang from him. He lumbered ahead, grinning and beckoning. She drew her pistol.

  “No,” she said. “I mean it, Hebo.”

  He slammed to a stop. “You do,” he said, as if astounded. “You really do.”

  “Take me back ashore.”

  “All right, if you’re cold.”

  Fleetingly, she confessed to herself that, earlier, she’d been tempted. “No,” she blurted. “You’re crude.”

  He lifted his palms. “All right, all right, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have acted like—”

  “Stop. We’re going straight back to camp. Behave yourself after you’ve slept this off, and I’ll let the matter rest. Otherwise Karl and I will send word to the base and make for our flyer. Meanwhile, I suggest you keep Karl in mind.”

  “All right, all right,” he mumbled sullenly. “I said I’m sorry.”

  They returned in a thick silence.

  Puzzlement, more than anger, tumbled through her. How could he have been so stupid? He was intrinsically intelligent, he’d had centuries of experience, surely space itself had schooled him in patience, he hadn’t lost coordination, which showed he could hold his liquor when he chose—what ailed him?

  V

  TORBEN Hebo woke with a foul taste in his mouth and a worse temper. Damnation, but he’d bungled! Misgauged, at least. He’d have sworn the girl was hinting, her eyes, her hips, her tone of voice. He should have remembered what manners and mores were like on Asborg. Every society, including every human society, had its own. In fact, people might think and behave one way in one part of a planet, otherwise in another. How was he supposed to keep such things straight? He’d forgotten whatever he once learned about her homeland. If he’d actually been there. His visits might have been to areas hundreds, maybe thousands of kilometers from it. He’d forgotten to ask about her background. And about herself.

  He’d been forgetting too much, too often, these past years.

  Nevertheless, she didn’t have to take such offense, did she? He’d backed off, apologized, hadn’t he?

  He and Dzesi needed her goodwill. What did she want for restoring it?

  Maybe she’d be in a forgiving mood. Maybe she wouldn’t. If not, what could he say to soothe her?

  While he brooded, he rose, cleansed, and dressed. Dzesi had already left. When Hebo returned from the river, the anthropard had said wryly, “I wondered whether you would prefer I rest elsewhere,” which hadn’t helped.

  Outside, the sun had shifted less than a degree across the sky. Cloud cover hazed it. The wind blew stronger and cooler, with a salty tang. It sent russet waves over the crowns of the forest on the hills.

  [34] Lissa’s puffball tent lay shut, near the storage dome. Was she sleeping late? Because anger had kept her awake late? Hebo entered the dome for cooking and dining, almost afraid to find her there. Karl and Dzesi sat conversing. “Greeting,” said the Gargantuan politely. Had she told him?

  “Coffee is ready,�
� the Rikhan said.

  In spite of everything, Hebo chuckled. “God bless you.” He strode to the pot and drew a large mugful.

  “What are your plans for the immediate future, if I may inquire?” asked Karl. “Or would you prefer to postpone talk until after breakfast? I have observed that many humans do.”

  “Don’t want breakfast.” Hebo gulped the hot brew. “A trail bar will be plenty. We’ve got to get started, Dzesi.”

  “To the relic?” Karl’s question was not entirely ridiculous, for he added, “The tide is flowing up the river. Do you know how far it will come or how high it will crest? A sun close to a planet raises large tides.”

  Dzesi’s whiskers bristled. “That is obvious,” she said, miffed.

  “In this case, the force is eleven or twelve times Terran maximum,” Hebo added. “Anybody can calculate that.”

  “But topography causes great variations,” Karl said.

  “We know that too,” the Rikhan snapped.

  “I beg your pardon. No condescension was intended. I have learned that humans like to make—small talk, do you call it in Anglay?—but have found it virtually impossible to formulate what the appropriate occasions and subjects are.”

  Dzesi relaxed. “Honor is mutually satisfied,” she said.

  Hard enough for humans to please each other, Hebo thought.

  His spirits lifted the least bit. Maybe he could cultivate this being, who could then put in a kindly word with Lissa. Or, for that matter, with those influential people she’d spoken of.

  “We haven’t been here for a tidal cycle,” he said. “But, plainly, the object will be submerged. We’ll take what further measurements we can, then retrieve the instruments out there. [35] While we wait for ebb, we can try reducing some more of the data.

  “We’d be glad of your help and milady Windfall’s in that,” he added, “and I guess you’ll be interested.”

  “Indeed. I will tell her when she rises.” Did Karl sound anxious? “I do recommend alertness.”

  Impatience took over. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?” Hebo emptied the mug and pocketed his ration. “Ready to go, Dzesi?”

  The anthropard came lithely erect. Now her whiskers quivered. “For these past three hours.” Her species slept too, but ordinarily in brief naps around the clock. Which made it a lot easier for them to adapt to other planets than it was for humans with their long circadian rhythms, Hebo thought for perhaps the thousandth time.

  In spite of which, he also thought, humans had done pretty damn well, and they weren’t the very first local race who set forth to the stars.

  Therefore let’s get on with the job at hand.

  Which was to collect as much further information as possible before the tide covered the relic, and prepare an arrangement that would keep on probing while it was underwater—increase what he and Dzesi would have to bargain with—and afterward make up with the woman. He’d think of some way to do that. Right now he was too busy.

  Karl stayed by the tent. He himself didn’t bother with shelters. His gaze followed them till they had gone from sight down the canyonside. Maybe it still did when their boat came into his purview.

  Already the river roiled within thirty centimeters of the top of the artifact. The wind from the darkling west raised choppy, chaotic waves. Spray blew off them, sea-bitter where it struck lips.

  Having debarked, Dzesi leaped to the crystallometer. Like the other instruments in place, it had been sending its input to the computer ashore, but this hadn’t lately been analyzed and she wanted to adjust it. The array of atoms here was evidently [36] different from any other that was known. What kind of potential did that imply?

  When races sundered by space and time finally got together, what marvels they discovered!

  Hebo sought the far side to inspect a vibration analyzer. Water gurgled around the attachment of its cable and lapped at its geckofoot stand. Damn, but the river was rising fast.

  Unease struck. “Dzesi,” he called into the wind, “I think we’d better load our stuff on the boat right away.”

  “There is not that much haste,” answered his partner, absorbed.

  “Well, soon,” Hebo yielded. Currents set even this material slightly ashiver, which provided clues—

  And then waves lifted, to wash over metal and ankles. Noise rolled, crashed, and deafened. Eastward up the river, glinting green and foam-white, raced a wall of water.

  VI

  THE thunder shocked Lissa out of sleep. She squirmed from her bag, crawled from the tent, and jumped to her feet. In horror and instant understanding, she knew.

  Karl was headed for the gorge. His legs scissored. She ran after him, unable to match that stride. He stopped on the rim, wheeled around, gestured and shrilled at her. The translator lay amidst other gear, but there was no mistaking what he cried. “Go back! This can kill you!”

  She recoiled. He turned again to the river. Over the brink he went.

  “No, Karl!” she yelled. “You can’t either! Don’t do it! Please!”

  He didn’t heed. Nor could he have heard through the roar. She looked, helpless.

  Hebo and Dzesi were in their boat. The flood engulfed it. Water swept onto the ground above. Lissa stood fast. It swirled about her feet and drained away. The surge sped on. Behind it, the river level fell, with a hollow sucking sound. She saw the wave damp down too, as it climbed to higher levels. But that mass must pour back here from a narrower channel upstream. The bottom of the canyon went aboil.

  The boat bobbed into sight, down again, up again, tossed to and fro. It had capsized. Through the foam she glimpsed Dzesi. The Rikhan must have clung to a thwart, then gotten hold of the rudder. She clasped herself to it, catching breath at every moment her face was in the air.

  Where was Torben?

  [38] Karl hove into view. His legs kicked, his tail threshed. Crosscurrents raged around him. He battled through them. His head stayed well aloft. Thus he spied Hebo when Lissa did. Torn loose, the man was, somehow, desperately swimming. She could barely make out the distance-dwarfed form amidst the violence. He vanished, drawn down. He emerged, he went back under. No human, however strong, could live.

  No human.

  Karl reached him, caught him, started for shore. The man kept his wits, didn’t struggle, let his rescuer carry him along. Well, he was a natural survivor, Lissa thought crazily.

  They vanished under the canyonside. Karl doubtless left him on the boulders, for in a minute or two the Gargantuan reappeared, bound for Dzesi.

  The water and the turmoil were slowly, raggedly dropping. Lissa ran back to the tent and slipped on shoes. Otherwise still in pajamas, she returned and picked her way down the steepness.

  She found that Hebo had begun to crawl up. “Thanks,” he gasped when she came to help. By the time they reached the top, Karl was bringing Dzesi ashore.

  Hebo collapsed. Lissa slumped beside him and panted. It had been a tough climb.

  Hebo struggled to his knees. “Holy Mother of God,” he stammered, “I, I thank you for your mercy. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you—”

  Lissa watched, astonished. She dimly recalled the prayer from one or two historical documentaries. Who would have expected anything like this from anybody like him?

  VII

  RAIN drummed on the dome and made the outside view a shadowiness in sluicing silver.

  Recovered from shock and, in part, exhaustion, the four sat trying to assess that which had come over them. “I should have guessed,” said Lissa contritely. “The canyon, the scoured soil along it.”

  Hebo shook his head. “No,” he growled. “The blame’s mine. You and Karl weren’t prepared, you were doing entirely different studies, you wouldn’t have come here if you hadn’t been diverted to us, and then we kept your minds too full of other things.” He grimaced. “Including my gross behavior. Can you believe I haven’t been in the habit of acting that way?”

  “It’s all right, Torben,” she murmured.
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  “Nor was Dzesi at fault,” he plodded on. “She’s a drylander. Her people had no experience. But me, I’m from Earth. That was long ago, but still, I’ve stood on Severn side, I knew about the Bay of Fundy—and I forgot.”

  He sighed. “It should’ve been plain to see from space. An estuary opening on a channel that leads to the ocean. A funnel; the exact conditions for a tidal bore. And the tide on Jonna is huge. And now it also had a storm at sea to push it higher.

  “I could at least have stayed longer in orbit, observing. But no, I was in too much of a hurry to get us down and started, before your outfit noticed us and our nice little monopoly on the information evaporated.

  “I was stupid.”

  She found she hated seeing such a big, adventurous man [40] humbled. Seemingly Dzesi did too, for the Rikhan said low, “I could have held us back. I have fared enough in space to realize that every new world is a snarefield of surprises. But I was likewise impatient.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes,” Karl added. “You would soon have perished if you were incompetent. Instead, you have coped for century after century.”

  “I will see to it that you get proper payment for the work you’ve done,” Lissa told the man and his partner. “Without you, the artifact might never have been found.”

  Hebo smiled lopsidedly. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you both, for everything.

  “But this has driven the truth home to me. I’ve grown too old.”

  “No!” Lissa exclaimed. “You aren’t due for a rejuvenation. Are you?”

  “It isn’t that.” She saw and heard how determination gathered itself. “Maybe you’ve never met a case before. You must have read or heard something about it, but it’s not the sort of thing anybody likes to dwell on. My foolishness was to keep shoving it aside. Later, I always told myself, later, someday, there’s no need yet. As the condition crept up on me, ignoring it got easier and easier.