The men, not without a little grumblings quieted down. With a two-fingered touch to his cap brim, the captain handed over a tube of film to the metropologist.
Ali Kiachif, commanding officer of Codep Ship Astrid, passenger and cargo manifests. I'm to request all aid and assistance in unloading to facilitate my departure in good order at sunrise, he rumbled off in a bored voice Anyone we know? he added in an undertone, jerking a long stained thumb at the Hrrubans.
Captain Kiachif, an emergency has arisen, Hu Shih began with much throat-clearing, which may necessitate your remaining . . .
"Oh no, nooo," Kiachif countered, palms up in disagreement, his brows half-moons over his very wide eyes. "None shall detain this courier from the course of his carefully plotted and closely allotted tour. I'm due at Codep Provisionary Planet number oh-who the-hell-cares. And I'm leaving tomorrow," he rolled his eyes heavenward, "with an empty ship because that's the way my orders're cut. In the meantime, if you had a little a little " his voice trailed off expressively.
This way, Captain Kiachif, Hu Shih hastily indicated, gesturing toward the mess hall.
We can't unload the livestock, Shih, Ben protested, blocking their path.
Whaddya mean you can't unload the livestock? Kiachif demanded, scowling fiercely. You gotta I'm to pick up rare metal ingots on that godforsaken provisionary hell.
That's the emergency, Hu Shih repeated urgently. It is only a matter of hours, I'm sure, before we will receive orders from Codep. They will undoubtedly include our instant removal from this planet.
The captain shot a stunned glance back at his ship, frowned blackly at the Hrrubans and then brandished his order tapes.
What shall it be? Leave your families and all here or dump 'em off in the mining dome of a chlorine world? You know how big domes are and what sort of man is sentenced there. You've got the choice, because I have none. That rare ore has to be taken to Elerell 4.
There was no doubt that the feisty Kiachif would do exactly as he threatened, though it seemed an irrational and inflexible stand to take, considering the emergency.
The upshot was that the unloading began. Questions from the women, who were startled at seeing the Hrrubans, had to be given short shrift. Everyone, with the exception of the three smallest children, was pressed into service in the unloading.
Ken found himself leading a groggy mare down the gangway and realized that he had never touched a live horse in his life. The mare's velvet hide was warm to his touch and it exuded a pungent odor not at all unpleasant, though intangibly different from that of the herd beasts he had slaughtered here. She had been blind-folded and was trembling, her hooves daintily seeking footing on the ramp with a nervous grace that fascinated Ken. She snorted, tossing her head and, not knowing what else to do, Ken spoke to her reassuringly, patting her neck with tentative strokes, uncertain whether she would resent being touched.
Lead her forward, man, she won't break, McKee yelled behind him. He and Ben were the only two who had had any direct experience with the Terran animals. Hiyup, girl, McKee added, swatting the mare with the end of the halter rope he held.
With an indignant squeal, the mare leapt forward and Reeve, hanging on instinctively, ran with her down the ramp.
I'll make a horseman of you, Ken, if there's time, McKee said as he trotted his mare beside Ken.
If I may assist, Rrev, hissed Hrrula softly at Ken's elbow.
The Hrruban, although he addressed Reeve with his innate courtesy, had eyes only for the mares. With a sure instinct the Hrruban let the nervous horse smell his hand while he soothed her with a soft purr. Before Reeve realized it, he had relinquished the rope to Hrrula and the mare, calmer now, was being led away toward the plastic shed that would serve as a temporary barn.
Hey, Reeve, here's someone for you, he heard Lawrence yell and, turning, he saw Pat flying toward him.
Between kisses and incoherent monosyllables, Ken got the impression the voyage here had been horrible for a reason he was unable to fathom. The feel of Pat's body against him and the touch of her lips, the spicy smell of her was too much for him to pay close attention to anything she was saying.
You've got to listen to me, she insisted, pulling out of his grasp, just as a shrill shriek sounded right behind him.
Startled, he wheeled to see the stallion, groggy as he was from deceleration, lunge out of the ship. Throwing Pat to one side out of the horse's way, Ken made a frantic grab for the trailing halter rope. He missed, thrown heavily down in the dust by the force of the stallion's passing. As he jumped up, he saw someone flash past him. Hrrula, with speed and an agility he had not previously exhibited, raced after the animal. He snagged the trailing rope and, stopping with incredible abruptness, yanked downward on the lead, jerking the stallion's head down and back. The horse reared in protest, bucked and backed as Hrrula, going hand over hand up the rope, reached the horse's head to calm him.
Ben met Hrrula as he led the stallion to the stable and talked earnestly to him, with the result that Hrrula assisted with the rest of the livestock.
Pat, dusting Ken off, blurted out what all the women must be asking.
Who are they? They're not mentioned in the reports. What happened?
The question is what happens now? Ken answered bitterly. What are we doing here, if they are here?
Oh, Ken, Pat cried with a rush of horrified comprehension. We can't go back to Terra. I couldn't stand it. She clung frantically to him.
Honey, get a hold of yourself, you're here today, at least, Ken tried to reassure her; anything to wipe the stricken look from her face.
Ken! Victor called urgently. Translation, please!
Ken, don't go. Not yet, Pat cried, desperately hanging onto his arm.
Honey, later. Later we can talk, and he pulled away to join Solinari who was trying to explain to three Hrrubans where he wanted them to put specially marked crates.
Ken had no time that morning for more than a quick welcome hug for Ilsa, who was then taken off to check crate numbers at the storehouse.
On the whole, Ken was proud of all the women and children. With no time for more than the briefest explanations, and no reassurances for their future, the women worked right beside the Hrrubans, smiling and gesticulating where words were not available. The children were trying very hard not to stare at tails that flicked out of the way of bouncing crates or stumbling feet, but gave no sign of fear. The last bundles, personal luggage, were being handled out of the cargo holds when Reeve, standing near the steplift, saw Kate Moody, the colony pediatrician, descending. She was having a time, holding onto the rail of the lift and the struggling child in her arms. Reeve wondered why the hell she just didn't put the kid on his feet. Then he noticed Ilsa waiting for Kate, a strained look on her little face.
When Kate reached the ground, she still did not release her charge but asked Ilsa a question. The girl pointed toward Ken, and Kate, grim-faced, plowed forward to him.
Her face was a study of professional neutrality as she approached, but her strong hands were very busy defending the softer parts of her body from the thrashing arms and legs of her burden. With a heave, she deposited the fierce little boy in Ken's arms.
This, Ken Reeve, is yours, she said with a great sigh of relief. We've all had our turns with him and he is now yours, all yours. You'll have to take my word for it that it is absolutely unfair for you to turn him over to his mother now. Which is probably what you may feel you should do. The one thing Pat needs is a rest from him.
I don't understand, Reeve exclaimed as he held the rigid little body.
It won't take you long, believe me, Kate retorted, her brown eyes flashing.
In wonder, Reeve looked down at his son's face. Solemn blue eyes regarded him from a narrow triangular face. The strong jaw was set obstinately, lips firmly pressed together in a thin line. The direct challenge in the child's expression was curiously adult and definitely wary.