This child shattered that image altogether. By law and custom, little April had been in charge of her clients, no matter how young she was. And her understanding of that responsibility was clear.
Still, Athaclena now knew why both Robert and Benjamin had been anxious not to lead her here. She suppressed her initial surge of righteous anger. Later, she would have to find a way to get word to her father, after she had verified her suspicions.
She was almost beginning to feel Tymbrimi again as the gheer reaction gave way to a mere dull burning along her muscles and neural pathways. “Did any other humans make it into the trees?” she asked.
Jonny made a quick series of hand signs. April interpreted, although the little girl may not have clearly understood the implications. “He says a few tried. But they weren’t fast enough… Most of’em just ran aroun’ doin’ ‘Man-Things.’ That’s what Villas call the stuff humans do that Villas don’t understand,” she confided lowly.
At last the mother chim, Nita, spoke. “The g-gas …” She swallowed. “Th” gas m-made the humans weak.” Her voice was barely audible. “Some of us chims felt it a little. … I don’t think the Villas were bothered.”
So. Perhaps Athaclena’s original surmise about the gas was correct. She had suspected it was not intended to be immediately lethal. Mass slaughter of civilians was something generally frowned upon by the Institute for Civilized Warfare. Knowing the Gubru, the intent was probably much more insidious than that.
There was a cracking sound to her right. The large male chim, Benjamin, dropped onto a branch two trees away. He called out to Athaclena.
“It’s okay now, miss! I found Dr. Taka and Dr. Schultz. They’re anxious to talk to you!”
Athaclena motioned for him to approach. “Please come here first, Benjamin.”
With typical Pongo exaggeration, Benjamin let out a long-suffering sigh. He leaped branch to branch until he came into view of the three apes and the human girl. Then his jaw dropped and his balancing grip almost slipped. Frustration wrote across his face. He turned to Athaclena, licking his lips, and cleared his throat.
“Don’t bother,” she told him. “I know you have spent the last twenty minutes trying, in the midst of all this turmoil, to arrange to have the truth hidden. But it was to no avail. I know what has been going on here.”
Benjamin’s mouth clapped shut. Then he shrugged. “So?” he sighed.
To the four on the branch Athaclena asked, “Do you accept my authority?”
“Yeth,” April said. Nita glanced from Athaclena to the human child, then nodded.
“All right, then. Stay where you are until somebody comes for you. Do you understand?”
“Yes’m.” Nita nodded again. Jonny and Cha-Cha merely looked back at her.
Athaclena stood up, finding her balance on the branch, and turned to Benjamin. “Now let us talk to these Uplift specialists of yours. If the gas has not completely incapacitated them, I’ll be interested to hear why they have chosen to violate Galactic Law.”
Benjamin looked defeated. He nodded resignedly.
“Also,” Athaclena told him as she landed on the branch next to him. “You had better catch up with the chims and gorillas you sent away — in order that I would not see them. They should be called back.
“We may need their help.”
17
Fiben
Fiben had managed to fashion a crutch out of shattered tree limbs lying near the furrow torn up by his escape pod. Cushioned by tatters of his ship-suit, the crutch jarred his shoulder only partially out of joint each time He leaned on it.
Hummph, he thought. If the humans hadn’t straightened our spines and shortened our arms I could’ve knuckle-walked back to civilization.
Dazed, bruised, hungry… actually, Fiben was in a pretty good mood as he picked his way through obstacles on his way northward. Hell, I’m alive. I can’t really complain.
He had spent quite a lot of time in the Mountains of Mulun,.doing ecological studies for the Restoration Project, so he could tell that he had to be in the right watershed, not too far from known lands. The varieties of vegetation were all quite recognizable, mostly native plants but also some that had been imported and released into the ecosystem to fill gaps left by the Bururalli Holocaust.
Fiben felt optimistic. To have survived this far, even up to crash-landing in familiar territory … it made him certain that Ifhi had further plans for him. She had to be saving him for something special. Probably a fate that would be particularly annoying and much more painful than mere starvation in the wilderness.
Fiben’s ears perked and he looked up. Could he have imagined that sound?
No! Those were voices! He stumbled down the game path, alternately skipping and pole-vaulting on his makeshift crutch, until he came to a sloped clearing overlooking a steep canyon.
Minutes passed as he peered. The rain forest was so damn dense!
There! On the other side, about halfway downslope, six chims wearing backpacks could be seen moving rapidly through the forest, heading toward some of the still smoldering wreckage of TAASF Proconsul. Right now they were quiet. It was just a lucky break they had spoken as they passed below his position.
“Hey! Dummies! Over here!” He hopped on his right foot and waved his arms, shouting. The search party stopped. The chim’s looked about, blinking as the echoes bounced around the narrow defile. Fiben’s teeth bared and he couldn’t help growling low in frustration. They were looking everywhere but in his direction!
Finally, he picked up the crutch, whirled it above his head, and threw it out over the canyon.
One of the chims exclaimed, grabbing another. They watched the tumbling branch crash into the forest. That’s right, Fiben urged. Now think. Retrace the arc backwards.
Two of the searchers pointed up his way and saw him waving. They shrieked in excitement, capering in circles.
Forgetting momentarily his own little regression, Fiben muttered under his breath. “Just my luck to be rescued by a bunch of grunts. Come on, guys. Let’s not make a thunder dance out of it.”
Still, he grinned when they neared his hillside clearing. And in all the subsequent hugging and backslapping he forgot himself and let out a few glad hoots of his own.
18
Uthacalthing
His little pinnace was the last craft to take off from the Port Helenia space-field. Already detection screens showed battle cruisers descending into the lower atmosphere.
Back at the port, a small force of militiamen and Terragens Marines prepared to make a futile last stand. Their defiance was broadcast on all channels.
“… We deny the invader’s rights to land here. We claim the protection of Galactic Civilization against their aggression. We refuse the Gubru permission to set down on our legal lease-hold.
“In earnest of this, a small, armed, Formal Resistance Detachment awaits the invaders at the capital spaceport. Our challenge…”
Uthacalthing guided his pinnace with nonchalant nudges on the wrist and thumb controllers. The tiny ship raced southward along the coast of the Sea of Cilmar, faster than sound. Bright sunshine reflected off the broad waters to his right.
… should they dare to face us being to being, not cowering in their battleships…
Uthacalthing nodded. “Tell them, Earthlings,” he said softly in Anglic. The detachment commander had sought his advice in phrasing the ritual challenge. He hoped he had been of help.
The broadcast went on to list the numbers and types of weapons awaiting the descending armada at the spaceport, so the enemy would have no justification for using overpowering force. Under circumstances such as these, the Gubru would have no choice but to assail the defenders with ground troops. And they would have to take casualties.