Still, Robert’s thoughts kept drifting. Even during his most passionate moments with Lydia, he kept thinking of somebody else.
Did she really have to leave? Logically there was no reason to have to go to Mount Fossey. The gorillas were already well cared for.
Of course, the gorillas might have been just an excuse. An excuse to escape the disapproving aura of Major Prathachulthorn. An excuse to avoid the sparking discharges from human passion.
Athaclena might be correct that there was nothing wrong with Robert seeking his own kind. But logic was not everything. She had feelings, too. Young and alone, she could be hurt even by what she knew to be right.
“Damn!” Robert muttered. Prathachulthorn’s words and graphs were a blur. “Damn, I miss her.”
There was a commotion outside, beyond the flap of cloth that sectioned off this chamber from the rest of the caves. Robert looked at his watch. It was still only four a.m. He stood up and gathered his trousers. Any unplanned excitement at this hour was likely to be bad news. Just because the enemy had been quiet for a month did not mean it had to stay that way. Perhaps the Gubru had gotten wind of their plans and were striking preemptively!
There was the slap of unshod feet upon stone. “Capt’n Oneagle?” a voice said from just beyond the cloth. Robert strode over and pulled it aside. A winded chim messenger breathed heavily. “What’s happening?” Robert asked.
“Urn, sir, you’d better come quick.”
“All right. Let me get my weapons.”
The chim shook her head. “It’s not fighting, sir. It’s… it’s some chims just arrivin’ from Port Helenia.”
Robert frowned. New recruits from town had been arriving in small groups all along. What was all the excitement about this time? He heard Lydia stir as the talking disturbed her sleep. “Fine,” he told the chimmie. “We’ll interview them a little later—”
She interrupted. “Sir! It’s Fiben! Fiben Bolger, sir. He’s come back.”
Robert blinked. “What?”
There was movement behind him. “Rob?” a feminine voice spoke. “What is—”
Robert whooped. His shout reverberated in the closed spaces. He hugged and kissed the surprised chimmie, then caught up Lydia and tossed her lightly into the air.
“What… ?” she started to ask, then stopped, for she found herself addressing only the empty space where he had been.
Actually, there was little need to hurry. Fiben and his escorts were still some distance away. By the time their horses could be seen, puffing up the trail from the north, Lydia had dressed and joined Robert up on the escarpment. There dawn’s gray light was just driving out the last wan stars.
“Everybody’s up,” Lydia commented. “They even roused the major. Chims are dashing all over the place, jabbering in excitement. This must be some chen we’re waiting for.”
“Fiben?” Robert laughed. He blew into his hands. “Yeah, you might say old Fiben’s unusual.”
“I gathered as much.” She shaded her eyes against the glow to the east and watched the mounted party pass a switchback climbing the narrow trail. “Is he the one in the bandages?”
“Hm?” Robert squinted. Lydia’s eyesight had been bio-organically enhanced during her Marine training. He was envious. “It wouldn’t surprise me. Fiben’s always getting banged up, one way or another. Claims he hates it. Says it’s all due to’innate clumsiness and a universe that has it in for him, but I’ve always suspected it was an affinity for trouble. Never known a chim who went to such lengths just to get a story to tell.”
In a minute he could make out the features of his friend. He shouted and raised his hand. Fiben grinned and waved back, although his left arm was immobilized in a sling. Next to him, on a pale mare, rode a chimmie Robert did not recognize.
A messenger arrived from the cave entrance and saluted. “Sers, the major requests that you an’ Lieutenant Bolger come down just as soon’s he’s here.”
Robert nodded. “Please tell Major Prathachulthorn we’ll be right there.”
As the horses climbed the last switchback, Lydia slipped her hand into his, and Robert felt a sudden wave of both gladness and guilt. He squeezed back and tried not to let his ambivalence show.
Fiben’s alive! he thought. I must get word to Athaclena. I’m’sure she’ll be thrilled.
Major Prathachulthorn had a nervous habit of tugging at one ear or the other. While listening to reports from his subordinates, he would shift in his chair, occasionally leaning over to mumble into his datawell, retrieving some quick dollop of information. At such times he might seem distracted, but if the speaker stopped talking, or even slowed down, the major would snap his fingers, impatiently. Apparently, Prathachulthorn had a quick mind and was able to juggle several tasks at once. However, these behaviors were very hard on some of the chims, often making them nervous and tongue-tied. That, in turn, did not improve the major’s opinion of the irregulars that had only recently been under Robert’s and Athaclena’s command.
In Fiben’s case, though, this was no problem. As long as he was kept supplied with orange juice, he kept on with his story. Even Prathachulthorn, who usually interrupted reports with frequent questions, probing mercilessly for details, sat silently through the tale of the disastrous valley insurrection, Fiben’s subsequent capture, the interviews and tests by the followers of the Suzerain of Propriety, and the theories of Dr. Gailet Jones.
. Now and then Robert glanced at the chimmie Fiben had brought with him from Port Helenia. Sylvie sat to one side, between the chims Benjamin and Elsie, her posture erect and her expression composed. Occasionally, when asked to verify or elaborate on something, she answered in a quiet voice. Otherwise, her gaze remained on Fiben constantly.
Fiben carefully described the political situation among the Gubru, as he understood it. When he came to the evening of the escape, he told of the trap that had been laid by the “Suzerain of Cost and Caution,” and concluded simply by saying, “So we decided, Sylvie and I, that we’d better exit Port Helenia by a different route than by sea.” He shrugged. “We got out through a gap in the fence and finally made it to a rebel outpost. So here we are.”
Right! Robert thought sardonically. Of course Fiben had left out any mention of his injuries and exactly how he escaped. He would no doubt fill in the details in his written report to the major, but anyone else would have to bribe them out of him.
Robert saw Fiben glance his way and wink. I’d bet this is at least a five-beer tale, Robert thought.
Prathachulthorn leaned forward. “You say that you actually saw this hyperspace shunt? You know exactly where it is located?”
“I was trained as a scout, major. I know where it is. I’ll include a map, and a sketch of the facility, in my written report.”
Prathachulthorn nodded. “If I had not already had other reports of this thing I’d never have credited this story. As it is though, I am forced to believe you. You say this facility is expensive, even by Gubru standards?”
“Yessir. That’s what Gailet and I came to believe. Think about it. Humans have only been able to throw one Uplift ceremony for each of their clients in all the years since Contact, and both had to be held on Tymbrim. That’s why other clients Me the Kwackoo can get away with snubbing us.