Warrior's Woman Page 5

  “Because you needed the excitement of pursuit, kiddo.”

  Tedra groaned. For such a brilliant, free-thinking computer, Martha could be decidedly one-track.

  “Then you should have contrived to smuggle Kowan aboard the Rover before we left,” Tedra said, not really serious, but hoping to reinforce the fact that she wanted a real man before she ever considered using an artificial one. Though she’d said so, Martha’s memory banks were playing forgetful. “I could have kept him in lockup and got all the excitement I could have asked for.”

  “I thought about it,” Martha admitted.

  She probably had, which only made Tedra realize she might as well give up. Martha was going to keep involving herself in Tedra’s sex life until she had one, and then she’d probably come up with a good dozen reasons why Tedra ought to abstain. She’d either have to ignore the computer or go nuts.

  She settled on ignoring. “Surprise me,” she told the hair changer, and then actually was. “How old-fashioned,” she said, seeing her original glossy black tresses spilling over her shoulders.

  “How about silver eyes with gold sparkles to go with that?” came Martha’s voice.

  Tedra glanced at the console to see that the viewing screen had come on so Martha could monitor her. She’d forgotten that Martha could see, too, one of the skills necessary to flying spacecraft.

  “No, as long as I’ve started out old-fashioned, I might as well go all the way with my own colors for a change.” And she ordered the eye changer to erase the previous artificial tint. What remained was a clear, light aquamarine. Glancing in the mirror, Tedra smiled. “I’d forgotten how striking my own colors are together. What do you think, Martha?”

  “No one would believe you are a Sec, doll.”

  “So now you know why I need to go bland when I’m working,” Tedra replied.

  “Too bad. You’d have been breached ages ago if—”

  “Cut it out.”

  “Well, you would have.”

  “It might have been tried, but it wouldn’t have happened without my cooperation. Now, how about leaving me alone so I can clothe myself in peace.”

  “In another Rover uniform in boring dun gray, which is all I’ve seen you in since we left Kystran? Not today, kiddo. One of those long slinky things that Supply filled your closet with ought to go over well, something teal with lots of sparkling Canture gems. Canture does mine the best quality jewels in the Star System.”

  “What’s with you this morning, Martha? You know I never wear feminine clothing that can constrict my legs and hamper my movements.”

  “Then what about one of the short skimpy things that show off so much skin? They’re certainly not restricting.”

  “Would you like to tell me why I would want to wear one of those hot-weather outfits when the Rover is air-cooled? Are you planning on turning up the heat ... or have you programmed Corth to jump on me if I show him some skin?”

  “Neither.” There was what passed for a sigh. “It looks like I’ve found you a planet, is all. Thought you might want to dazzle the prospective traders. That is what those flashy trade-courting outfits are in your closet for.”

  “Of all the ... Why didn’t you just say so, Martha, instead of going round the block to annoy me? I know that’s why Supply stuffed my closet with such outrageous outfits. It’s standard World Discovery procedure to impress the natives with a little sparkle. Are we close enough to Transfer yet?”

  “We’ve been orbiting about two hours now.”

  “And you let me sleep!”

  “The planet’s not going anywhere, kiddo.” The screen went blank, leaving Tedra to swear a blue steak without benefit of an audience.

  Chapter Six

  “Not bad, kiddo,” Martha remarked as Tedra entered the Control Room, the heart of the Rover with its numerous flashing grids and monitors that kept constant tabs on every function of the ship. “I concede to your own tastes.”

  Tedra raised the coffee cup she carried to acknowledge the compliment. She had chosen to wear a close-fitting, two-piece outfit of pants and long-sleeved tunic that covered her from neck to ankles, the material opalescent pearl with a high-gloss sheen to make it glow jewellike in bright light. If that wasn’t impressive enough, she had draped it with a double-strand necklace of large kystrals, the clear crystal mined on Kystran’s single moon that was even more prized than Canture gems, because the live crystals would change color upon request to look like any gem imaginable. Tedra had requested blood red in a brighter hue than the fiery red that occasionally appeared to mix with the other colors in the opalescent outfit.

  Her long hair was drawn severely back and coiled on top of her head, held in place by a three-inch-long pearl band that lifted it up and away from her head, to then fall in a thick tail down her back. Her low boots were silver, matching the utility belt that already held a combination phazor/computer link unit that would see to all her needs in one innocent-looking rectangular box. Inside the belt was a homing signal so that Martha couldn’t lose track of her in a crowd.

  Corth had been sitting in the Commander’s chair, keeping Martha company. He got up as Tedra entered, but she waved him down, too nervous to sit herself. Now that she actually had a planet to investigate, she’d be using Transfer for the first time, and she still remembered the nightmares she had had for nearly two years after she had first learned about Molecular Transfer, the means to get from ship to planet and back without benefit of spacecraft or landing. One second you stood surrounded by metal walls and flashing grids on board ship, and the next your feet were planted firmly on whatever planet you’d been sent to. It didn’t take even a full second to Transfer. Just pop, and you were in a new location.

  Transfer was made possible only on crysillium-powered spacecraft, which the Rover just happened to be, crysillium being the highest source of energy known to man, and the only thing strong enough to allow a safe Transfer. It was that word “safe” that had got to a child of seven, which was how old she’d been in her second year of Explorations study when the class learned of Transfer, making her active mind imagine all kinds of things that could go wrong, that she’d be the only one Transfer wouldn’t work on, that she’d end up lost somewhere between Transfers, wherever that was, and no one would ever find her. Switching to Military Arts at eight, she thought she’d never have to experience Transfer, but she’d still had the nightmares about it for another year.

  She might be an adult now and know that those childhood fears had been silly, but the nervousness was there anyway. As long as Martha didn’t detect it and ride her about it, she’d be all right. And once the Transfer was made she could relax—until she had to go through it again.

  “So where is it?” she asked, walking toward the four observation screens that divided the area surrounding the ship into quarters for viewing, but were all blank presently. And then the left top screen came on to reveal a huge blue-and-green sphere, and Tedra gasped. “It has vegetation!”

  “We’re a bit far from our own Star System to trade for food, kiddo,” Martha felt it necessary to point out.

  “I wasn’t thinking of trading for it. I just want to see it. I’ve never thought it was fair that Kystran citizens are forbidden to visit their own space gardens.”

  “Contamination, doll. If you want to eat it, you have to keep away from it.”

  “I know.” Tedra sighed. “But look at all that green. It’s certainly prettier to look at from up here than Kystran’s drab brown and gray. So tell me. If there’s plant life, there must be other life. Is any of it humanoid?”

  “The wide-range scanner indicates it’s not an overly populated planet, but there are enough people in small groupings, probably their idea of cities, so you won’t have trouble making contact.”

  “Do I get lucky with a known language you have on file, or will I have to trudge through universal communication?”

  “I’ve spot-checked in each hemisphere with the short-range scanner that picks up voices, an
d the language appears to be the same worldwide, with only slight differences in accent.” Short-range scanning could pick up clear conversations, but only in a five-foot radius. Anything on a larger scale would be just a jumble of noise. “It’s a language you’ve recently learned, too—Sha-Ka‘ ari.”

  Tedra stiffened and turned around to glare at the huge computer that took up an entire wall, plus a huge console base in the center of the Control Room. “Did I miss something while I was sleeping, like an unscheduled trip home?”

  Martha brought forth her offended tone. “You are fully aware that Kystran is three weeks, four days, eighteen hours, eleven—”

  “I know how far away it is, damn it! Just tell me that’s not Sha-Ka’ar down there.”

  “It’s not.”

  “But you’re picking up their language?” Tedra asked. “There’s no mistake?”

  “I don’t make mistakes.” The offended tone was stronger.

  Tedra sighed and looked back at the observation screen. “Sorry, Martha.”

  “Wait a minute! I’m going to short-circuit.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Tedra said with a chuckle. “You’d think I never apologized to anyone.”

  “I only think it because it’s true.”

  “Let’s keep to the subject, please. Can this find of ours be the Sha-Ka’ari mother planet?”

  “Good possibility.”

  “Not good,” Tedra groaned.

  “Not necessarily,” Martha disagreed. “You must remember that the Sha-Ka’ari showed up in Centura Star System about three hundred years ago. They don’t remember where they came from, having brought no records with them, and remember very little about how they got to their new planet, only that they were captured to mine for silver, and ended up killing their captors and taking over the planet instead. We can’t know how this world here has evolved in that amount of time. Also, the Sha-Ka’ari were conquerors, and conquerors tend to enslave the conquered. It goes with the territory. It doesn’t mean they were taken from a slaveholding planet. So you don’t really know what you have down there, except it’d be a good guess to expect a warrior class of men . . . and I don’t like that look on your face.”

  “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 n
eck. 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.

  Tedra was jumpy now after being startled by the deerlike animal. Her instinct for self-preservation had canceled her common sense, stunning the poor thing before she even saw what it was. It would be a long while before it revived, and might become food for something else before it did.

  “I don’t know why you’re blaming yourself, kiddo,” Martha remarked, having seen the incident happen from the tiny viewer on the front of the phazor, and hearing Tedra’s choice swearing over what she’d done. “It couldn’t have been helped.”

  “I shouldn’t have had the stun set so high,” Tedra said to the larger two-way viewer on the flat side of the unit as she lowered the setting.“I’m in the middle of nowhere, for Stars’ sake, and can see anything coming at me with plenty of time to raise the stun if necessary. If that creature had been any smaller than it is, it would have been demolished.”