"And you understand it?"
"No, not at all. But I do concede that it's happened, along with my"- She chuckled. -"inexplicable return to health."
"So you're grateful to the planet for this?"
She could see him grappling with that notion and nodded. "The planet is more than Fiske is willing to accept."
"But you do?"
"I do. And, if he'll only credit an old shipmate with the sense to tighten bolts when she sees 'em loose, he'd do himself, the company, and me a stupendous favor."
"Which is?"
"He-and Intergal-can gain a lot more from Petaybee than consumable minerals!"
"And what can they gain?"
"Working knowledge of a new sentient life-form."
"Which is?"
"This planet."
He brought his chin forward in a nod that ended abruptly. He looked at her and smiled: not a really reassuring smile, but the kind one might give someone who might not be playing with a full deck. Yana raised an eyebrow and deliberately laid one arm on the desk, hand relaxed on the surface, as she hooked the other arm along the back of the chair, assuming as indolent and relaxed a position as she could. She had given enough of the psych tests she knew were upcoming to know how to act: open, relaxed, easy, as if she hadn't a care in the world. She even hauled her right ankle up to her left knee, as if to leave herself completely open. This room was hot, also, and she didn't want to show any perspiration-even if the bird colonel was.
He shot the expected questions at her and she gave him back the answers, pausing briefly now and then to consider-as was wise of her to do-but not pausing long enough for him to consider it an evasion or hesitation. It was working, with him and with her, because the more complicated the shrink-questions, the more she relaxed, since she knew exactly the sorts of answers required. They hadn't really looked at her records, had they?
Suddenly, in the middle of posing a question designed to reveal any sexual aberrations she might have, he stopped and stared at her-as if seeing her for the first time.
"You know all the parameters of the answers, don't you?"
"Wondered when you'd figure that one out, Colonel."
He leaned back as far as the uncomfortable chair would let him, crossing his arms on his chest. "So what's behind all this? Give me a straight answer."
"I already did, Colonel. I've known Captain Fiske a long time. He asked me to do some nosing about for him since I was billeted in a Petaybean village. I did. I gave him my report. He doesn't care to believe it." She shrugged at such vagary. "It's not the first time commanders have refused to believe reconnaissance reports and taken more comfortable rear-echelon theories." She shrugged again, reaching up to scratch her head as if puzzled by such irrationality. She was sweating, and that wasn't the way to put across her point of view. Except that the colonel was sweating more profusely than she. "Hey, did they turn up the heat around here just so I wouldn't get a chill in my paper wrapping?"
Now the colonel was free to take out a cloth and mop his face and neck. "Heat's been rising steadily. I thought this was the cold season down here."
"The locals are already taking bets on the exact day and time the ice on the river will crack and be carried away downstream."
He gave her a side look, then grinned. "How'd you bet?"
"Me?" She chuckled. "I don't have enough money to waste on foolish bets, Colonel. But the earliest of those dates chalked up is weeks away." They felt another rumble underfoot, one considerably more authoritative than any of the others.
The colonel clutched at the edge of the desk as the monitor rattled on its stand. In the same second, Yana grabbed the side of the desk.
"Someone's planting too much semtex," the colonel said with a frown.
Yana grinned, having thought of another answer to the whammy they had just felt.
"Spill what you know, Major," the colonel advised, "while there's still a chance for you to get straightened out on this. Unless, of course, you think the planet's fighting back?"
"If, that is, I was a bettor, Colonel, I think my money'd be on the planet."
Just then the door burst open-resisting a little, for it was slightly off kilter from the last quake-and Fiske came in, his eyes narrowed in anger. Behind him were Giancarlo and Terce.
"All right, Yanaba, where is he? How's he doing this?"
Yana took great satisfaction in maintaining her calm while three sweaty, angry perturbed men threatened to overwhelm her. "I assume that the 'he' you refer to is Dr. Shongili?"
"You know it is." Fiske, jaw out, took the necessary step to loom over her in the chair.
"I don't know where Dr. Shongili is, Captain Fiske. How could I since I've been… involved… here for the past four or five hours."
"He's somewhere on this planet…"
"I hope so," Yana murmured.
"… And I'm going to find him and find out how he's doing this." Fiske flicked his fingers at the ground.
Yana did not have to pretend surprise. "You think he's blowing his planet up to thwart you?" She actually had trouble suppressing her laughter. "He's got no explosives. The company has 'em all. And why would he want to blow his planet up?"
"I don't know how he's doing it, but he's responsible."
"Using what?" Yana fired back at him. "Or, maybe," she said, turning devious, "he's told the planet to resist, to hamper, to impede your efforts to strip it of its natural resources."
Fiske jutted his jaw out again, clenching his teeth over whatever it was he wanted to blurt out in frustration. Instead, he transferred his feelings to the grip of his fingers on her arm as he roughly hauled her up from the chair.
"You're coming with me!" And he began to frog-march her out of the room.
"Like this?" she asked. Part of her paper skirt, soaked with her perspiration, had been left on the seat of the chair. She had also lost one of her paper shoes in his haste to get her moving.
"Captain!" the colonel barked in a tone that could not be ignored, even by Torkel Fiske. "You will permit the major to dress before she leaves this installation."
Chapter 13
No doubt in an effort to humiliate, harass, or annoy her, Giancarlo signaled Ornery-eyes to stay in the room where Yana was to dress herself. It would take a lot more than Ornery-eyes to perturb Yana. She was slightly flattered that Giancarlo thought it would! Ignoring her audience, she took advantage of the dressing-room shower to enjoy a quick wash before she dressed. She smiled as she noticed that she had been given ordinary-issue clothes, not winter gear. Torture could take many subtle forms: freezing wasn't a common one.
When Ornery bustled her down the corridor to the assembly point, Yana was reasonably sure she'd had the best of that deal. For when they got outside, it was nearly as warm as the facility had been-and she was far more comfortable, in the lighter garments, than any of the others were.
She was shoved, just ducking her head in time to keep from cracking it on the doorframe, into a ground vehicle, which was already inhabited by several squads, sweating in their winter gear. They were conveyed out to the field where a troop copter waited. She caught a glimpse of other air-assault vehicles and some big land cruisers. She also saw two dark circles, one of considerable size, where the field, plascrete and all, had subsided. She wondered if the planet knew what to target or if it just pulled the plug where the terrain made it easiest.
They had barely gotten settled when the bulky vehicle tilted to one side.