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after that first restorative drink. You can have all of it," he added with a
casual flick of his ringers. "I've got more whenever you need it. Are you
hungry?"
"Why, I am. Don't tell me you can find food, too! Is there anything you don't
know about this ship?" She exaggerated her admiring tone slightly and saw the
praise work on Markel as the water had done on her, restoring the parched
tissues of his soul. "Only ..." she thought to warn him before he made
promises he wouldn't be able to keep, "... I cannot eat meat; only grains and
vegetables."
Markel looked slightly relieved at this statement. "That's as well because
it's much easier to snitch plants than anything else, like cooked food. Finish
your drink. We're not far from the 'ponies."
Acorna's stomach made a joyful noise she was certain would echo down the
tubes, but Markel had already turned to lead her to food. She slipped the
bottle into one other boots-as long as she had to drag these things along, at
least they could be useful as carriers. The laces were long . . . maybe if she
could add them to Markel's rope, they'd be long enough to reach Calum.
Over the other reeks of the ship, Acorna smelled vegetation: lots and lots of
different kinds of vegetation, and the slightly chemical smell that her
sensitive nostrils could identify as 'ponic nutrients. She wondered wistfully
if the seedling chard she had planted on the Aca^ecki would ever leaf for her.
"Be very quiet now," Markel said, once again more mouthing words than actually
speaking, as he deftly inserted a tool and withdrew the fasteners of a much
larger grill.
The smells were almost unbearably enticing to Acorna, but she waited on his
signal to enter after he had done a preliminary prowl round on hands and
knees. The scent of chard drew her like a magnet, and it was fortunate indeed
that it was nearer to her than the root vegetables he was deftly, and
cleverly, harvesting. She noticed that he was careful to take only the small
ones that were likely to be culled anyway. He took carrots and turnips and
potatoes and several other brightly colored things that she did not recognize.
Hybrids, probably. She carefully augmented his selection with chard leaves,
then some lettuces, and one head of cabbage, stuffing what she could into her
other boot. She was glad she hadn't been wearing the boots for very long
before using them as food and water carriers.
The surreptitious harvest didn't take long. Both Markel and Acorna had nimble
hands and were agile on their hands and knees. They gathered up their booty
and retreated to the tube, and Markel refastened the grill behind them. He
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beckoned for her to follow him some distance away from the 'ponies unit before
he signaled her to stop and start eating. Which was perfectly understandable,
for carrot chomping could be heard if one was listening for it. Even, perhaps,
if one was not, because she was chewing as fast as she could. She took chard
next, then experimented with the dark red thing he handed her, and that was
good, too. Well, almost anything would have tasted good to her at that point.
After those sorely needed restorative mouthfuls Acorna thought again of Calum.
He, too, would be hungry and thirsty. If only she knew where he was being
held!
She tapped Markel's shoulder as he was chewing away at a raw potato and
indicated she wanted to speak. He nodded but cautioned her -with a finger
across his lips to speak quietly.
"My friend will have no food or water. If only you could figure out where he
is being kept, could we get to him with something to eat and drink?"
Markel considered and finally gave a sharp nod. "He'll be in the secure area,"
he whispered, "where they keep the important prisoners."
Acorna's heart sank. "I tried to make them believe he knew nothing."
"Didn't work," Market told her, "or they'd've tossed him in the holding cells
like they did you. It'll be a lot harder to sneak into the secure cells-but
you're right, we gotta try. Even if we can't break him out-and I ain't
promising, those cells are a lot tougher-we can prob'ly slip him a water
bottle and some greens. He'll need it, too! Sometimes they 'forget' to feed
the folks in detention. I hate it," he whispered. "I keep thinking, what if
somebody dies, and I could have saved him . . . but some of the ones they
throw in the cells are Palomellese. If they found out I was free, they might
sell me out to gain favor with Nueva."
Acorna's heart ached at the decisions that had been forced on the boy,
decisions that would have been heartbreaking for a mature adult. "Well, I can
assure you that neither Calum nor I will sell you out - no matter what
happens!"
Balaklire, Unified Federation Date 33.05.17
Once she got over her shock at being surrounded By unicorn-people instead of
facing just one, Karina realized that she might really be onto something here.
The entire rest of the populated galaxy thought that Acorna was the only one
of her kind. But here were four more of the unicorn-people-and she was the one
who had been Chosen to act as their guide and interpreter! Once it had been
established, with a great deal of pointing and head tossing and shrugging and
mane twitching, that none of the four around her was Acorna, Karina was able
to guess that they were looking for Acorna. It was strange, the way their
meaning seemed to come into her mind if she just let them say their strange
nasal words and didn't try to understand. The trick seemed to be not to think
about it, to convince the busy part of your head that you were actually
thinking about something else and Just sort of accidentally overhearing their
conversation.
In the first minutes on the unicorn-people's spacecraft, Karina found that
trick quite easy to pull off. Everything was so different, so ... magical? Or
just alien? She couldn't decide. The soft, flowing draperies they wore, the
glowing translucent horns on their foreheads, the couches where they reclined
so gracefully, even the gentle radiance that lit the interior of the
spacecraft all spoke to her of a Higher World guided by thought and love, the
Upper Realm she had so long been seeking to contact. But when one of them went
through a slitted opening into another part of the spacecraft, she saw a board
covered with twinkling dials and long projecting levers that had not been made
for any human fingers to manipulate. That made her nervous, so she decided not
to think about it but to concentrate on boosting her psychic awareness so that
she could communicate better on a pure and spiritual level.
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But every time she achieved the kind of calm that was supposed to bring
connection with one's spirit totem and access to higher levels, she lost that
sense of almost understanding what the unicorn-people were saying. It was most
irritating and not at all what she would have expected.
(Do you have enough data from its thought-images to use the LAANYE yet,
Melireenya?)
(Not quite, though I have learned that it is a she-creature.) (Had to be, with
those engorged mammaries. Don't they hurt?) (Well, those could be the result
of some kind of illness. They certainly don't look natural, do they? But her
images are distinctly feminine . . . what I can read of them. You've noticed
how weak her transmissions are? And every time I think we're communicating,
something breaks it off and all I get is this image of a long, pointy
crystal-see?)
(Maybe she's trying to tell us that they use something like that to amplify
their naturally weak thoughts.)
(Good idea! I hadn't thought of that. Shall we make one?) (Might as well try
it. If we have to build the data for the LAANYE by pointing our horns at
things and listening to her grunt their names, it'll take forever.)
Something heavy and sharp-edged dropped into her lap and interrupted Karina's [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]