Turning Point (19 page)

Carrie handed Skai a piece of dried meat and began chewing one herself.

“How far is the beginning of the swamp from here?”

“Thanks to you, I can only guess where ‘here' is.” said Skai, moving round to sit beside her. “I take it we're traveling by dead reckoning?”

Carrie nodded, chewing hard on her food.

“Kusac can sense where the swamp is, but we have no idea of the distance involved.”

“Judging from the amount of walking we did yesterday, I'd say we'd reach it by nightfall. We can't attempt to cross the swamp in the dark, so we'll have to camp again tonight.”

Skai reached out to touch a stray lock of her hair.

“You have lovely hair,” he said, fingering it gently.

Carrie brushed it back out of the way.

“Don't,” she said sharply.

“Don't you like to be admired?” he asked softly.

“No. I've had enough of the Valtegans leering at me and—Elise,” she said bitterly, moving away from him.

“I'm not a Valtegan, though.”

“Just let's leave it, Skai. I don't want to talk,” she said, while sending a short reassuring thought to Kusac, who was clamoring to know what had angered her.

“I didn't mean to bring back bad memories,” Skai apologized.

“Look, I'm not in the market for a man, so you don't need to impress me with your concern,” she said coldly.

Skai sighed. He wouldn't have thought her such a cold fish. Pity. Still, there was plenty of time. Perhaps when she got used to his company she would thaw a little.

 

“Tell us more about the swamp,” said Carrie, falling back to let Kusac take his turn using Skai's machete to cut through the dense underbrush.

Daylight did little to break the perpetual gloom that pervaded the heart of the forest through which they now worked their way.

“I told you. It's a tidal delta, thickly overgrown with swamp grasses and a rambling network of trees. Every high tide changes the dry areas slightly, and by the end of a fortnight, the safe route you took in no longer exists. Parts of it do, but our scouts have to adapt to the ever changing geography.”

“Boats?” asked Kusac, hacking through the trunk of a particularly resilient bush.

“Too overgrown. The whole thing resembles a lake covered with strips of shifting sand and vegetation.”

“So how do you manage?” asked Carrie, hitching her backpack into a more comfortable position.

“We rotate every two weeks while there are still some identifiable swamp marks, and we leave markers that only we would notice.”

“What about the shift coming off duty? You said they guide the next shift in.”

“One man takes them in, showing them the new markers.” Carrie nodded. “Makes sense. You've just come off duty, haven't you? Think you can guide us through safely?”

“From one side to the other, yes, but you want to reach some object ...”

“The life pod.”

“... buried in there,” continued Skai. “I can't guarantee we can reach it safely.”

“How deep is it? Can we wade or swim through it?” Kusac called back.

“No way. That water is alive with creatures you wouldn't want to meet. Leeches like small eels, with teeth to match, crocodiles, carnivorous fish—you name it, if it's nasty and has teeth, it lives there. You wouldn't survive more than a minute in the water.

“Then there're the insects.”

“Great,” groaned Carrie, catching a branch that threatened to lash her in the face, “I don't think I want to know any more for now. What do we do if we can't reach it?”

“Worry about that when the time comes,” growled Kusac. “Let's just get there and find it first.”

 

The passage of time was difficult to gauge in the flickering gloom, but eventually there came a point when muscles ached and bodies were too tired to stand any longer.

To call it a clearing was a misnomer, but at least the undergrowth was less dense. A small area large enough for the stove was cleared and a larger one was trampled down for sitting.

Skai activated the stove and put the water they'd carried with them on to boil while Carrie kneaded the worst of the cramps out of Kusac's shoulders.

“I don't know why you're bothering with hot water,” she said. “We used the last of the coffee this morning.”

Skai smiled, taking a packet out of his jacket. With a flourish, he produced some muslin tea bags and a small quantity of sugar.

“We guerrillas carry a few emergency rations of our own,” he said, grinning.

“Tea!” exclaimed Carrie. “I haven't tasted any since the Valtegans took over the tea plantations up by Geshader. And in bags, too.”

“We have our sources,” said Skai. “Unfortunately, I haven't any milk.

“Now, how about giving my shoulders a rub when you've finished with your friendly Alien's?”

Carrie stiffened, but a flick of Kusac's ears relaxed her.

He stretched, rising to his feet. “I must hunt now, before I stiffen up. I will not be long, Leska,” he said. Reverting to a four-legged stance, he loped off.

Skai gave an involuntary shudder. “It's uncanny how he does that. Inhuman.”

Carrie grinned mirthlessly as she moved behind him. “He isn't human, he's an Alien.”

“I know. Perhaps it's because he resembles a cat that he doesn't seem ... Ouch! Do you have to be so rough?” he complained as Carrie kneaded his shoulder and neck muscles vigorously. “... quite so Alien,” he continued, still wincing a little.

“If you want to get rid of the stiffness, then it's going to hurt,” she said, trying not to smirk.

Skai grunted. “What are the rest of the crew like?” he asked.

She thought for a moment before answering.

“Different from Kusac. The Captain seems a fair man, but Guynor, the First Officer, he's suspicious and belligerent. The two women seem friendly—at least one of them does,” she amended.

“Their hierarchy is different from ours. Age and maturity don't matter as much as the ability to win a Challenge if you're an enlisted man or a Junior Officer.

“There, that should be better now,” she said, sliding her hands off Skai's shoulders.

He caught hold of her before she could move away.

“Let me do your shoulders,” he said persuasively. “You've been doing as much trailblazing as Kusac and me.”

Carrie hesitated, then shrugged. She twisted her hair out of the way and turned her back to Skai. It was a risk, but she ought to be able to sense in advance if he planned to make a sudden move against her.

Despite herself, she relaxed under his gentle massage.

“What's Challenge?” he asked.

“When they feel they have the ability to move up a grade in their own field, they Challenge their immediate superior. It's a fight to submission.”

“A bit barbaric, isn't it? Not to say stupid. How do they make sure that intelligence and brawn go together?”

“I've no idea. I do know they have a family caste system. Some are born to their professions. For instance, Kusac's family are all telepaths.”

“Seems very haphazard to me. What about people from one family who have a talent for another craft? What do they do?”

“No idea. I haven't studied their sociology. I've only been really aware of them as Aliens for a couple of days, but their infrastructure seems based on more of a pack system. We don't have an analogy because we evolved on a different planet,” she said dryly. “Thanks for the massage. My muscles don't feel quite so rigid now.

“Just remember that on Shola, Kusac's people are the dominant predators, probably more efficient ones than we are on Earth,” she said.

Carrie began to move, but Skai stopped her.

“I haven't finished yet. Your neck is still very tense. Now, doesn't that feel better?” he asked, his tone as gentle and caressing as the fingers that moved lightly up and down her neck.

Caught unawares, Carrie found her body responding to the massage as faint thrills of pleasure coursed through her.

Having finished his hunting, Kusac paused in the bushes at the edge of their clearing. Silently, he observed their interchange, sharing through the link her reactions to Skai's touch. This was how it should be. She needed a close relationship with a male of her own species, a mate of her own kind. This bond of theirs—Vartra alone knew how it had happened!—was not right, not natural. What would happen to her when he had to leave the planet? The only way the Leska bond was broken was by death.

He tried to remember what his father had said about it. He'd only mentioned it once. It didn't happen to every telepath, he'd said, only to a few, but when it did it was like lightning, it struck where it would.

Not much help, but then no one, least of all himself, had imagined he would find a Leska from another species, millions of miles from home. Maybe the fact that she wasn't Sholan would make a difference to the bond. Maybe they would be able to part when the problem on Keiss was over....

His thoughts were interrupted by Carrie pushing Skai away.

“Thanks, I'm fine now,” she said brusquely, getting to her feet.

Kusac tried unsuccessfully to repress his delight. She didn't like their guide either. If Skai continued to bother his Leska, he'd be forced to Challenge him. Shocked, he tried to stop that chain of thought. Telepaths couldn't Challenge, and he was reacting as if Carrie were a true Sholan Leska. What was he to think and do? What was really at stake here, them or two different worlds?

The politics of the situation he couldn't begin to gauge; whichever way he looked at it, everything seemed disastrous. A new species is contacted and they are fellow Telepaths of potentially amazing abilities. They've been brutalized for years by these Valtegans, and when first contact is made, what happens? He bonds Telepathically for life to one of them.

Suddenly his spirits lightened and he grinned. Well, he'd run away to find adventure, hadn't he? Not even he could say his life was boring now.

His mind was made up.
They
were what mattered, not all the Allied World Councils nor the Terran equivalents. He'd speak to the girl, find out what she felt, and explain what a Leska bonding really entailed. It was their problem; only between them could it be solved.

Kusac pushed through the bushes and handed Carrie two small deerlike creatures.

“This should give us more than enough for tonight as well,” he said, the Sholan equivalent of a pleased grin on his face, “just in case the rest of the crew are late reaching the rendezvous.”

“Wonderful,” said Carrie. “Real food again.”

“I'll help you skin them,” Kusac said, getting his knife out of Carrie's backpack.

Soon the carcasses had been skinned and gutted, and were set to cook above the small fire. Skai made up a little of his tea, all of them preferring to save their resources and drink a weak brew now with the prospect of more later.

 

Carrie leaned back against a tree trunk, feeling replete at last. Giving her fingers a final lick, she sighed.

“We haven't left much for later,” she said wistfully, “but it was so nice to eat properly. I'd almost rather starve than eat another piece of dried meat or a trail bar, no matter how well your crew mates make them.”

Kusac grinned, displaying a row of white, even canines that made Skai wince.

“They should be at the meeting place well before us, and they won't come without meat, believe me.”

“I hope not,” she said. “I suppose we'd better contact them before we start off again.”

“You contact Vanna. You spent quite a lot of time with her yesterday, and if I know you, you were tuning in to her every now and then. I'll give you the extra power you'll need.”

His thought followed immediately.
We cannot risk merging for this contact, Leska. It would leave us unprotected with Skai, and I don't trust that one.

“All right,” said Carrie, making herself comfortable as Kusac took her by the hand.

Crossing her legs, she rested their clasped hands on one thigh, letting the other fall limply in her lap. Eyes closed, she called to mind Vanna's face, trying to sense her presence. As the image sharpened, she saw the Sholan woman's eyes widen as she became aware of them. The picture began to fade slightly, and, hurriedly, Carrie drew on Kusac's strength. Vanna's face became clearer. Quickly, she passed on an image of the swamp and their meeting that evening. Feeling Vanna's acceptance, she let the link dissolve, breathing deeply before opening her eyes.

“Vanna got the message,” she said tiredly, releasing Kusac's hand and rubbing her eyes.

“Well done,” he said. “No one could have done it better. You progress well.” He touched her cheek with his hand before starting to pack away their things.

“You rest for a moment while we clear up. I'm afraid we can't afford the time to let you rest properly.” He reached for her rucksack and pulled out a slightly fluffy trail bar. “Eat this. It'll help,” he said, trying to pick off the fluff before handing it to her.

“By my reckoning, we have about seven days till midpoint,” said Skai, breaking his silence. “A reasonable safety margin.”

“It's too close for comfort,” she said. “I have a bad feeling about this whole pod business. How long has it been on the planet, Kusac?”