Deluge
- Автор: Маккефри Энн, Скарборо Элизабет
- Серия: The Twins of Petaybee #3
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Deluge». Краткое содержание книги:
Meanwhile, the powerful and avaricious Company is making another attempt to take over the world of Petaybee for its resources, and the twins parents, Yana and Sean, along with the entire planet, must fight for the independence of their sentient world once and for all...
“But all you’ve tried is the direct method?”
“Aye. Is there another you might employ?”
“Perhaps,” she said.
Sean sat there waiting, planning how to handle Kilcoole’s share of the invasion party. He felt unusually impatient and restless. How long could it take them to contact the station? Surely Pet still had contacts there. She’d been Marmie’s security chief for years, after all. When he tried to imagine what could be happening to cause such a long delay, he could think of all too many disturbing scenarios.
Contacting the station could tip off their enemies that the ship was not where it was supposed to be and that the crew was not what it was supposed to be. The station might notify others in the Corps who were closer, and they would recapture the ship and Petaybee’s spaceborne allies and send another ship with more invasion troops to complete the mission.
That was a long shot, though. Johnny, Rick, Pet, and the new guy, Raj, were all Corps veterans themselves and had experience dealing with the protocol and all that. As a native Petaybean, Sean had never served in the Corps or even been offworld, which sometimes made him wonder what a well-versed woman like Yana saw in him. But then, she couldn’t turn into a seal and enjoy roaming the rivers and ocean as he and the kids could.
The kids…Where were the little hooligans anyway? What if they weren’t at Versailles Station? Where would the aliens have taken them then? And almost scarier, with Versailles apparently under martial law, what if they were there?
He found himself tapping his foot and drumming his fingers against the instrument panel to the beat of one of the Irish tunes used for latchkay songs. Why didn’t Pet answer him? He watched the instruments carefully, but there were no red spots or blips on the screens indicating that the planet’s magnetic forces were playing merry hell with communications again. He realized that that was partially why he was so impatient. He had no idea how long this clear spot would last.
At last Pet’s face reappeared on the screen, wearing a grim expression. “I’m sorry, Sean. I couldn’t reach anyone I could trust to find out more. We’re monitoring the station’s communications now to see if any mention of the twins or our other people pop up, but for now what it looks like to me is that they must all have been detained-possibly taken off-station. There are mentions of Gwinnet, but nothing specific yet. We’ll let you know when and if we have more-definite information, but for now we think it best to bypass the station and contact Whit Fiske, the Federation board chairman, and some of Marmie’s other friends, as soon as possible. If we can free her, she can help us locate the kids.”
“Thanks for trying, then,” Sean said, attempting not to sound as glum as he felt.
Pet Chan’s visage vanished from the screen, to be replaced briefly by Rick O’Shay’s.
“Good luck to you all,” Sean told him.
“And to you,” Rick said.
THE SLEDS AND snocles arrived in ones, twos, and threes, first the Chugliaks from Kilgalen, then a delegation from Harrison Fjord, and another led by the Flood-Fitzhughs of Perfect Fjord.
Teams and machines were given maintenance and their drivers were fed and rested before the longhouse was opened, and two and three at a time the soldiers, warmly dressed, were given warm soup to drink and smoked salmon to chew before being bound hand and foot and strapped into the sleds or inside the snocles.
When the last of them were gone and Kilcoole’s guests had been dispatched with other sleds and snocles to one of the distant communion caves not in common use by the villagers, Sean returned to their own cave and the newcomers.
He was surprised when Ke-ola, looking massive in furry snow pants and parka, greeted him outside the cave.
“What’s the matter, Ke-ola lad?” Sean asked, seeing yet more trouble clearly etched on the boy’s round features.
“It’s the Honus, Papa Sean,” he said. He’d gone from the formal “Governor Shongili” to “Doctor” to “Papa,” then decided that that was too informal and settled on “Papa Sean.” Most older people were uncles and aunts to the Kanaka kids, but since the twins and Ke-ola had somewhat adopted each other, Ke-ola considered Sean a closer relative than most.
“What about them?” Sean asked. “Has something happened to them?”
“No, not really, but they’re restless, and they swam under the ice all the way here and since then have been swimming in circles in the water.”
“Have they told you what’s bothering them?”
“No. They aren’t talking to me, or any of the rest of us. But they’re real agitated about something. So I was thinking, maybe if you turn into a seal again they’d tell you what’s the matter.”
Sean thought about putting the lad off, since he had quite a few things to organize, but as he and his family had learned before, Honus knew things, and he knew very well that what they might know and not be telling was exactly what concerned Ke-ola.
He and Ke-ola were alone outside the cave, so he stripped off and dived into the hot springs, changing at once and surfacing in the midst of the circling turtles. Now then, my hard-shelled friends, what’s this game you’re playing and why are you not talking to young Ke-ola? He’s beside himself with worry.
Our people need us, but they are there and we are here, the largest Honu said.
And one of them serves our enemy, the smallest Honu, the original one who came with Ke-ola, added.
Enemy? That would be that woman scientist? The one we arrested for poaching Petaybean otters and who later gave my kids such a hard time on the space station?
Enemy of Honus! the Honu replied. Enemy of seal people and otter people also.
Sean saw that the Honu had his priorities in order as far as he was concerned. One of your people is serving her, then? So do you mean she’s captured another Honu?
A two-legged, the Honu answered. They damage a third person.
Two-legged or four?
The Honus consulted one another, closing their ring to touch noses, their shells forming a flower on the surface of the pool. No legs, was the consensus. Flipper tail and grabbers.
Sean didn’t like the sound of that. Not at all. But he tried to stay calm and project calm as he clarified his suspicions. Grabbers?
Two-leggeds have them on top. On bottom, legs, on top, grabbers.
Arms and hands perhaps? Sean thought, but mostly to himself. To the Honus, clearly everything was best described as “grabbers.” Instead of waiting for them to change their terminology, he asked a more pressing question. Have you any idea where the enemy and the two-legged person of the Honus is-damaging-the person with the tail and grabbers?
They consulted again and finally the original Honu said, We do not know, but the seas are empty, and on the land, others of our people are caged.
Hmm, Sean said. I believe I know of the place. Thank you, Honus. Don’t you be worryin’ your shells about this a minute longer. The two-leggeds can take it from here.
Somehow he had the feeling they were not reassured.
He swam to the pool’s edge and found Ke-ola waiting with his clothing. After flipping himself dry, he related the turtles’ message to Ke-ola while he pulled on his dry suit, parka, and mukluks.
“Why wouldn’t they tell me?” the boy asked, clearly wounded by the reticence of the animals he loved.
“They spoke about their people doing wrong, so perhaps they meant one of your relatives,” Sean said.
“They might have extended their displeasure with that individual to your whole family.”
Ke-ola thought it over. “Yeah, I think I remember hearing about that sort of thing happening in olden times. I think we’re supposed to make an offering to appease them or something, but I’m not sure what.