"Sir." A Navy man-wounded, with one arm bound across his chest darted awkwardly away. Two left.
The officer spoke to his talking box. "Squad Leader Patry here. The enemy has cut our elevator cables. What's your status?"
The answer was almost unintelligible with static. Gavving let his chin droop and his eyes half close (poor exhausted copsik, clearly too tired to think of mutiny) and listened hard. He heard, "Elevators running. We…ing troops. Enemy numbers for garble repeat, forty to fifty. Garble outnumbered. They're gentling us. They garble the carm, but even. can't use…tethered."
"I see two dark masses west of here."
"Forget them…trouble enough. We are sending more men to the Citadel."
"Patry out."
The Grad recognized the long-limbed woman, Debby, by her long, straight brown hair. The two men with her were strangers. The crossbows aimed at him didn't bother him as much as their fear. They didn't like the carm at all.
He spread open hands to the sides. "I'm the Quinn Tribe Scientist, the only one who can fly this thing. Good to see you, Debby—"
Lawri broke in with, "Feed it to the tree, mutineer! You'd lose us in the sky or smear us all over the trunk."
" — and this is Lawri, the copsik runner."
One snapped out of it. "I'm Anthon. This is Prez. Debby told us about you, Grad. Can we leave immediately? Pile all our warriors on the nets and go? The silver man is coming."
The Grad said, "We're tied to the tree. Cut those lines and we're free to go. But I don't leave without Clave and Merril, and I think there's time to get one more thing."
He pointed into the dorsal window display. Anthon and Debby very gingerly moved up behind him. All this scientific stuff must be daunting.
"That hut is the Lab. Debby, you'll find some cassettes and the reader inside, on the walls. You remember what they look like?"
Debby nodded.
"Go get them. Anthon, get some warriors to cut the carm loose." He looked into the displays. Clave was towing Merril as he jumped along the bark, his legs serving both while she fired bolts at their pursuers.
One Navy man was dropping back, hurt. The silver man came on. The Grad said, "See if you can give them some covering fire."
Anthon said quietly, "You're not the leader here, Scientist."
"Here, I am. And I have had enough of being a copsik!"
"Debby, go get that treefodder for the Scientist. Take a team. Prez, get those cables chopped." Anthon waited until they were through the doors before he spoke again. He wanted no witnesses to this discussion.
"Grad, have you fought in war?"
"I captured the carm."
"You? I cap—" He trailed off. "Never mind."
"How many are you?"
"Forty or less, now. We won't fit inside, but we can hang on to the nets."
"I want to set the rest of Quinn Tribe free. They're in the in tuft, and I can find them. The carm's got plenty of what makes it go. We've got the small motors for spraying fire. It should be easy."
Anthon was in no hurry to make a decision. Into the silence Lawri said, "He can't fly the carm. I can. I'm the Scientist's Apprentice."
"Why haven't you killed this one?" Anthon demanded.
"Hold it! She's what she says…and I did have to kill the Scientist himself. Lawri has a great deal to teach us, if she can be talked into it.She's harmless as long as she's tied up."
Anthon nodded. "She lives, then. But I lead Carther States."
"I captain the carm."
Anthon stepped into the doors and began to shout orders. He'd let the word pass. Captain. He who violated the Grad's orders aboard the carm would be a mutineer!
Carthers chopped at the lines that tethered the carm. Crossbow bolts flew among the blue men who followed Clave and Merril. Those dove for cover on the bark. The silver man caine on alone. He wasn't using jet pods. There must be something on the pressure suit itself.
The carm was drifting free.
Lawri spoke in an angry whisper. "They'd kill me, wouldn't they?"
"They don't have my reasons for liking you," the Grad said without overt sarcasm. "Keep your opinions to yourself for a while, if you can. Did you really think a jungle warrior would let you at the controls?"
Clave and Merril and Debby entered like a storm. Debby was gashed and bleeding along the ribs. Merril flew into the Grad and hugged him.
"Grad! I mean Scientist. Good work. I mean, glorious! Can you run this thing?"
The Grad felt huge relief. Let Clave play these dominance games with Anthon! The Grad would captain the carm and hope Lawri was wrong…"I can fly it."
Clave asked, "Can you find the rest of us?"
"They're all in the in tuft. Gavving's at the top, where we can get at him. Jayan and Minya are with the pregnant women. Jinny and Alfin should be in the Commons. We may have to leave the carm to get to them."
"Then, it's going to work. I can't believe it."
The Grad grinned. "So why'd you come? Never mind. Debby—"
"I got these. We had to fight for them." Seven cassettes. "We couldn't find the reader."
"Maybe Kiance had it…it doesn't matter. Get into a chair. You too, Clave, Merril, strap down!" He looked into the displays. "In a few breaths we can…
"What?" Clave saw the displays floating in the bow window. "This place is too strange for me. Those pictures make my eyes cross! I
Grad, have you got anything to take out the silver man?"
"Not unless he crawls into a motor. That's a starman's pressure suit."
"Well, he's killing all our allies."
"That spitgun only puts you to sleep and makes you feel wonderful. Doesn't matter to us, though. They're still out of action. Anthon, good timing. Get into a chair."
Anthon was panting; his crossbow was on line with the Grad's eyes. "You waited too long! That goddam silver—"
"Get into a chair and strap down! And tell me how many we've got left." The Grad was trying to watch all the displays at once. Carthers were disappearing over the trunk's horizon. Too many floated limp; some were being towed by others who hadn't been hit. The man in the pressure suit was hovering over the carm, firing darts.
The glazed look left Anthon's eyes. He worked himself into a chair. "We can't hurt him. I was the only one who even got to the carrier. The rest won't come anyway. They're afraid of it."
"We can't leave them."
The silver man darted down at the doors. The Grad pinched his fingers together. The silver man shied back as the doors closed in his face, then moved back into view in the dorsal display. Now he was gripping the nets on the hull.
"He's on the carm," said the Grad.
"Take off," said Anthon.
"Leave?"
"We can leave my citizens if we take the silver man with us. I've got spare jet pods coming."
"Good enough." The Grad's fingers tapped. The silver man was still hanging on the nets when the carm backed away from the trunk and started down.
Chapter Nineteen
The Silver Man
THE LAUNDRY VAT WAS A TALL GLASS CYLINDER. IT HUNG from the underside of the branch, from lines pounded into the black bark over Minya's head. Around it ran an extensive wickerwork platform woven from live spine branches. A layer of rocks beneath the vat supported a bed of coals. A pipe ran all the way from the treemouth reservoir to supply the water: an impressive achievement, had Minya not been too tired to appreciate it.
Minya and Ilsa stirred dirty clothing in a matrix of foaming water with a paddle two meters long. It took skill and fine attention. Left to itself, the laundry-soup would have foamed right out of the vat, clothing and all. The supervisor Haryet kept popping out to see how they were doing.