“Are you kidding, Martha!” Tedra came back excitedly, the idea falling on her in full bloom.
She had been going nuts with frustration, thinking about all those Kystran women being forced into slavery, friends of hers, women like herself who would fight against it, and keep on fighting until they either were killed or succumbed to madness. They had to be rescued, somehow, and before there was nothing left of their former selves. And here, miraculously, was the how.
“Crad Ce Moerr used the Sha-Ka’ari to take over Kystran,” she continued. “It’d be poetic justice if we could use their ancestors to get it back. After all, our weapons were proven useless against them, and we aren’t sword-wielders ourselves. But warriors just like them-”
“I only said it was a good guess.”
“But if they are-”
“Maybe they can’t be bought.”
“And maybe they can, so stop arguing with me. I’ll find out one way or the other after I go down.”
“I wouldn’t just jump right in with the big question, were I you. Asking them to fight their own kind might not go over too well, you know.”
“I know how to test the waters, old girl. I do have another reason for being here, after all.”
“And if it’s a ‘no-go’ after you take the plunge?”
“Then maybe I can trade for Toreno steel. Sword-wielding can be learned with practice.”
If Martha had eyes, they would have rolled. She settled for a few unnecessary flashes on her display grids.
“The gravity was slightly off, but you’ve been slowly acclimated to it since you entered my domain, so it won’t take you by surprise when you get down there. The air is purer than you’re accustomed to, but that won’t be a problem.”
“How’s the weather?”
“Moderately warm directly below, which is in the southern hemisphere. I would suggest a private Transfer, a mile or two away from any settlements. No point in dropping their jaws with a pop into the midst of them. Might get your head hacked off that way.”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so,” Martha gloated.
“And the time of day?”
“Midmorning. But I can have you on the other side of the planet in a flash if you’d prefer to arrive at night, when there’s less chance you’ll be seen making Transfer.”
“I might not be seen, but then I wouldn’t see much either. Right here’s just fine, and if that’s it…?”
“Not so fast, kiddo. Where’s your lazor unit?”
“The phazor combo will do.”
“Not if you have to use it repeatedly.”
“I’m officially here to negotiate trade, Martha, not wipe out the planet. And if I start killing them, I’ll never get their help. The phazor will go me a long way on stun. It’s only when it’s set to demolish that the power drains. And the lazor looks too much like a weapon. World Discovery frowns on its use, and I’m a World Discoverer for now, not a Sec. If I get into trouble I’ll tell you, and you can Transfer me back.”
“Then make sure you keep the link open.”
“Not to worry, old girl. That’s standard procedure with first Transfer. And your scanners should have informed you that my homing signal has been activated, and it can’t be turned off. You couldn’t lose me if you tried. So go ahead and Transfer. I’m ready.”
“You are, huh? What’s with the face?” Tedra sighed and unsqueezed her eyes, and found Corth standing in front of her.
“I wish you a safe Transfer, Tedra De Arr.”
“I really wish you hadn’t said that, Corth.” But he was on a one-track program. “And until you return…”
He picked her up and kissed her, and Tedra had the absurd thought that those couldn’t be mechanical lips, they really couldn’t. When he set her back on her feet, he was grinning. She didn’t have the heart to get mad.
“Okay, babe, you made your point. I’ll think about it when I get back.” And then, “I’m ready, Martha.”
She closed her eyes again and waited, but nothing happened. When she opened her eyes again, she was on another world.
Chapter Seven
The tree limb was becoming uncomfortable to lie upon, but it would not be much longer now. The taraan was moving steadily closer, only forty yarid away now, and it was large enough that it was worth the wait. With this kill, there would be enough meat to end the hunt and return to Sha-Ka-Ra the next sunrise.
Challen Ly-San-Ter did not often find time to hunt with his warriors anymore. Since he became shodan of Sha-Ka-Ra, his duty was to remain in the city to be available to the needs of his people, not to enjoy himself with his warriors, which had been his pleasure before he was shodan.
The taraan would be his third kill since sunrising, but the two small kisrak now tied to his hataar would merely provide food for this rising. Challen was, in fact, feeling hunger pangs as he thought of roasted kisrak, and willed the taraan to approach at a more swift pace, but of course it did not. He was several reyzi from camp, so it would be a while yet before his belly could be satisfied, even if the taraan could be brought down in the next few moments.
It was perhaps his wandering thoughts of food that caused Challen to miss seeing the woman enter the clearing, for suddenly she was just there, standing in the path between him and the taraan. How it was possible for him not to have noticed her coming, when the bracs and comtoc she wore glowed like gaali stones, he could not say. But she was there now. There was no doubting what he was seeing-just that he was seeing it, for women did not cover themselves in the clothes of warriors, nor did they venture out without a warrior at their side, yet this woman was alone.
He would wager his hataar she was not of the servant class. No servant would possess such unusual, but obviously fine, clothes, or own jewels of the like around her neck. But she was not from any city in Kan-is-Tra, of that he was certain. The black hair was foreign to Kan-is-Tra. The clothes seemed foreign, too. Perhaps she was of Ba-Tar-ah in the far north. That country was known to have strange customs, and perhaps allowing their women to wear warrior’s clothing was one of them. But what was she doing here?
He was still pondering it when the taraan also noticed the woman and started to leap away in fright. She turned then, hearing the movement, and pointed with her arm in the direction of the noise. The taraan simply fell to the ground-and a low growl came out of Challen’s throat. Her unusual presence was one thing. Stealing his kill was another, though he could not begin to guess how she had brought the animal down.
He was about to make his own presence known in a very aggressive way when she spoke, nothing that he understood, and not to him surely, for she still faced the taraan. That she did not approach the animal gave him pause, and when she turned away from it, he was pacified. So she did not want the taraan. But then why kill it? And how had she killed it?
She was facing him again, looking at the trees surrounding the area, perhaps for more animals, and still talking to herself. This time Challen noticed the small white box she held in her hand. Thin and rectangular, could this be what had killed the taraan? No, such was not possible. Boxes could not kill, and even if they could, the laws forbade women to carry weapons. It was time he found out just who this woman was.