Nimisha's Ship
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Nimisha's Ship». Краткое содержание книги:
When Nimisha takes an experimental ship on a solo test flight, something goes horribly awry, marooning her light-years from home on a planet as deadly as it is beautiful. Now the ruthless members of a rival branch of the Rondymense family are given the chance they've been waiting for: to reclaim the Ship Yards by any means necessary.
Only Nimisha's ingenious child, Cuiva, stands in their way. But for how long? For just when her daughter needs her most, Nimisha is in a precarious situation herself--and unable to help. But Nimisha has never given up in her life--and she's not about to start now . . .
He could and she held up the unit so they all could see the furtive approach of the small bipeds.
"Further orders, ma'am?"
"We don't know that they are aggressive," Nimisha said.
"Aggression can corne in many sizes," Jonagren remarked succinctly and he crouched to return through the low passage to their point of entry.
"The foremost question in my mind," she said, following him, with Casper behind her, "is are they descendants of the original owners?"
"Great minds," Jon said.
"I do have a translator on board the Fiver," Nimisha added. "Helm, can you pick up any sounds?"
"They are not making sounds," was Helm's reply.
"They are then attempting to creep up on us undetected," Nimisha said, amused. "What do we do?"
"Go out and act friendly, of course," Jon said.
"So they tell me," Nimisha said, regarding the weapons that were being brought toward them in the possession of small people who might dislike visitors on board their ship. If this was their ship. But who else's would it be? Unless, for some unknown reason, sentient-possibly even sapient-bipeds were limited to this continent of the nine land masses on Erehwon.
"I wonder how long they have survived here," Casper said as they reached the fracture through which they had entered.
"They are on the hill above you and the ship hides you from their view," Helm said.
"Thanks," Nimisha murmured, turning to the captain. "What do we do?"
"Walk out where they can see us, hands open, palms up."
"Let's hope that's their indication of peaceful intent, too," Nimisha replied. "Helm, on guard!" She switched on her suit's repeller, knowing that it had been designed to protect her against a variety of more sophisticated weapons than those being carried toward them, Jon and Casper did so, too.
"Forward and to your left," Helm said. "You're not yet visible, but they've sent two on ahead. You may meet them. You will. Now."
/nd they did. Nimisha was never sure exactly what happened, the encounter was over so quickly. Projectiles of some sort came flying at them from the two midget bipeds that reacted faster than any of the humans did. But Helm was faster and his stun beam caught them. The weapons were deflected by the individual repeller shields and fell uselessly to the ground.
"The others are retreating," Helm said.
Nimisha leaned down to pick up the impotent darts.
"Be careful!" Jon said, holding out his arm to prevent her. "The tip could be poisoned."
Casper had sprinted to the two supine figures. "Hope Helm didn't give them too much stun."
"We're lucky he could," Jon said. "At least we know they have some sort of nervous system that can be affected by stunners."
"I adjusted the beam to a strength sufficient to stop creatures of that size and weight," Helm said, and Nimisha thought the AI did not appreciate this aspersion to his common sense. "I had projectiles on targets, as well."
"Well, the translation device is on the Fiver. Let's take them to it," Nimisha said as she and Jon joined Casper by the limp bodies.
Jon knelt down and touched the fur-covered throat of the one nearest him.
"A pulse of some sort. Maybe Doc can figure out what they're composed of besides fur." He rubbed his fingers together. "Nice feel to it. Wonder how warm it is."
The two bipeds wore not much more than their weapon belts. Their sex-if they were of different sexes-was not obvious.
Casper bent and picked one up. "Heavier than you'd think," he remarked.
Jon took the second. Nimisha, craning to regard the head drooping over his arm, wondered at the blank oval face devoid of recognizable orifices.
Aliens! A spurt of triumph raced through her. Nimisha Boynton-Rondymense had met aliens! Sapient aliens, able to make and use tools, and who had once been space-farers. All kinds of questions tumbled about in her head: How long had they been marooned? Had they seen other humans to know that they should be wary of them? Had they regressed to a primitive existence? What stories would they tell about their landing here? Did they know where their home system was?
Then she realized that Jon and Casper were carrying on a conversation dealing with such queries and grinned.
"Helm, let's get back to the Fiver as quickly as possible."
"Advisable, ma'am, as there are now a multitude of these creatures advancing in a menacing fashion toward the gig."
"Lifting," Nimisha said, having seen the van of a small army appearing on the hilltop. She slipped into the pilot's seat as the two men were gently depositing the aliens on the deck.
They were up and out of range just as the army charged down the nearside of the hill, making loud hooting noises.
"So they do have voices," Nimisha said, turning the gig. "The Fiver's not that far away and they can really move," she added, making rapid forward progress.
"Let us then remove ourselves from danger while we treat these two," Jon said. "We could meet the Fiver back at the ocean. I doubt they can follow us that far."
"Do you doubt my ability to park the gig in Fiver?" Nimisha asked, amused.
"Never," Jon replied, and Casper gave a snort of laughter. "But why waste time landing?"
"Point." And so Nimisha suggested a rendezvous to Helm. She had a chance to see how gracefully Fiver lifted from the surface and sighed happily… even if no one in her quadrant might ever see it again. Idly she wondered if Caleb Rustin might not have gone on to finish the Mark 5 that had been skeletal when she left on the shakedown cruise. Would Cuiva realize that Caleb should be given the disks she had entrusted to her for safekeeping?
She landed the gig on the beach close to the Fiver. The aliens had not roused from their stun during the short run. Jon and Casper reassured her that they were still breathing and seemed to have a pulse in their short necks. As no facial orifices were visible, they weren't able to judge what optical or aural arrangements existed in the oval "head." Each hand had three digits, one opposing.
"If they can launch darts, they've tool capacities," Casper said, subtly pleased. "Sapient. How marvelous!"
"The feet are more flippers than feet, with vestigial toes… of a sort," Jon said, having gently felt down the four limbs of the one he was examining. "They don't smell bad, either."
"No, they don't, but with all that fur, how do they perspire?"
Jon picked up one limb, inspecting the sole. "Callused and bare of fur. Well, fur would've rubbed off on rough surfaces if there had been any, wouldn't it?"
"Let's see what Doc's diagnostics can tell us about them," Nimisha said.
"That's sensible," Jon said, kneeling to pick up the alien he had been examining. He stepped out of the gig and the alien bounced out of his arms, sprawling on all fours before it started across the beach in a dash. "Hold yours down, Cas," Jon cried.
Nimisha, who had been following Jon, started off after the fugitive. She had always been fast on her feet, and with legs twice the length of the alien's, she was able to catch up with it. Tackling seemed the logical way to halt its progress. It squealed at the sudden impact in the sand and tried to wriggle away.
"I won't hurt you," she cried, trying in this awkward position to radiate goodwill and positive feelings. It took Jon's assistance to subdue the creature. It might be small, but it was strong and writhed so violently that the two humans were afraid of hurting it. A dark band of what seemed to be one long eye centered in the upper third of its face sparkled with angry determination to free itself.
Casper had wisely put a wrap about the feet of the other alien. He was halfway to the Fiver with his still limp captive in his arms. As Nimisha and Jon carried theirs, it hooted in a desperate tone to the other and writhed in their arms, an action that required them to hold it more tightly than they wanted to.
"Really, we are not going to hurt you," Nimisha repeated in as reassuring tone as she could manage. "I hope its flesh doesn't bruise, or Doc will have my guts for garters."