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the speed indicator showed a rapid increase.
"Bran. Are you sure?"
"Enough. The Shrakken don't have five ships here, and
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weren't expecting any, just yet." He shrugged. "Doesn't prove anything, I
know. But let's get home like a bat!"
They sat, tense, as Tregare drove the scout, bucking at the limits of
stability in atmosphere, across the great valley. Skimming the cloud layer,
occasionally they passed through its upper promontories. After ten minutes,
then twenty, Rissa saw her husband begin to relax. Even Stonzai, except for
the way she gripped the seat's arms, looked normal again.
Then the detector alarm sounded; Tregare reached for the screen controls. "No,
Bran," Rissa said. "I will do it.
Hying this low, you need all your concentration." Her third try gave
results-five blips, homing from above and behind.
Homing fast.
Tregare's first choice of words showed little imagination. Then, "All right-we
can't outrun that lot, or outmaneuver. Not in a scout. But maybe we can
outslick 'em!" Abruptly they dropped into cloud, and kept dropping. Then the
scout was braking, hard.
"If I can set down before they get here, and cut drive-''
"The jungle! Bran-"
"Landing blast should clear the ground; let's hope so." The scout lurched;
Stonzai made a shrill bleat. "In my head again!" Tregare shouted. "You feel
anything?"
"I-I am not certain." Had she? Rissa could not be sure.
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With forward motion almost stopped, Tregare pointed the nose up; the craft
began to settle. From below, Rissa heard rumblings- then pain clutched her
mind, and shook it. Stabs of light came; she fought to see and think; nausea
struck. Tregare's fist beat the control panel; he screamed. Lisele cried, "Oh,
make it stop "
!
A crashing jolt as the scout hit dirt; then it tipped. Power came on in a
great surge-by Tregare's purpose, or a random swipe of his hand? To Rissa's
left, something dealt the scout a staggering blow, then another. Pain
shattered her thinking; the next impact came directly facing her, and her
safety harness cut cruelly. Tregare's tore loose, and he was thrown against
the controls.
Teeth clenched, Rissa batted at the power switch-and again, until she got it.
Then the pain flowered so brightly that she saw nothing more, and heard only
the dying cough of the scout's drive.
To feel her consciousness leaving was total relief.
Rissa woke to pain-of mind and of body, and for a time she could not separate
the two. But her mind cleared, and she
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found herself hurtfully suspended by her harness. The scout, then, lay on the
side she faced. Carefully she tested arms and legs; each moved, not
pleasurably. After a moment she decided how to free herself safely; one hand
on each side's harness release, she pushed them, and fell braised and
sprawling against her control panel.
Normal lighting was gone; the dim glow of the emergency system lit the place.
She looked; Tregare lay still, but he breathed. His face was turned away;
blood smeared the part she could see. And his left leg bent wrongly. She
crawled toward him.
But above her, once and then again, she heard a faint gurgling gasp. Something
spattered on her neck. Rissa looked up.
Horror!
Half in her harness and half out, one strap across her chest and another
cutting into her throat, Lisele hung. The child's face was purple and
blackening; one bleeding hand was inside the strap at her neck, and the oilier
clawed feebly at it.
Adrenaline struck; time slowed. Clambering to her feet, Rissa reached for
Lisele's harness to pull herself up; the task took seeming hours. With one
foot in a loop of her own loose-hanging harness, her left hand reached for the
catch that would free Lisele's throat-but from where she hung, she had no
leverage. And the child swung there, barely making any sound.
Panting, Rissa let go the catch, bent her leg and jumped- with only one arm
and leg to propel her. Now the time-stretch helped-in mid-air she lunged, with
both hands, for the catch.
And got it. Falling, unable to protect herself from impact, she saw the strap
fly loose, and Lisele suspended only by her chest. Then the edge of the
control panel crashed against her kidney. Agony shot through her and blanked
her mind.
When she could think, she found herself again trying to reach Lisele. This
time the climb was almost impossible, but at its end, the task was not. She
rigged her own harness to hold her-swaying, semi-upright-
wrapped her left arm through Lisele's restraints and around the child, and
carefully released the final strap. Lisele's weight unbalanced her, but she
managed to hold. Then, figuring each move carefully, it took long minutes to
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get the child down safely.
At any rate, Lisele was breathing. Had she needed resuscitation she would have
died, for Rissa could not have given it in time. She lowered her daughter past
the control consoles to a bare section of forward bulkhead, and laid her down
with limbs
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straight. None was broken; good; the mouth was free of blood or phlegm. And
now normal color was returning to the small face.
Rissa stood, and climbed back onto the now-horizontal control panel. It was
time to see to Tregare.
The panel was not quite level; the scout, she decided, was lying a bit
nose-down. She considered the matter longer than need be, so that she would
not have to think of what must be done-or of what could be done, which
might be very little indeed.
Surprising her, Tregare had his eyes open. "She all right?"
"Bran! How long have you been awake?" She shook her head. Her coiled hair had
come loose; part of it fell across her face. Irritably she pushed it back.
"No-first, how badly-you-?"
His hand made a small motion; he winced and flexed it, then shrugged, and
winced again. "You see the leg.
When we have time, you'll have to set it." At her start of protest, "You know
how; you trained at Erika's." When she nodded, he said, "Still more than half
deadhead, I was, dizzy with hurting, when something fell and jarred me.
You?" Again she nodded. "I'll ask later. Next I knew, you were climbing up.
Toward Lisele, hanging there, face all purple. Didn't say anything; why
distract you?"
How could he look so calm? "So I waited.
Is she all right?"
"By great luck, perhaps a miracle. Her harness slipped somehow; she was
hanging-Bran, for a time I did not think I could free her!"
Her left hand was near enough that he could clasp it. "You did, though. Peace
be thanked, Rissa-you did!"
He squinted past her, up where Lisele had dangled. "And from here, I can't
think how you managed." He tried to turn his body; she saw his teeth clench.
"Ugh! We can't move me until that leg's set. First, though-you've had no
chance to check on anyone else, yet. For starters, how about Stonzai?"
She had not thought-she had not thought of any others. Not Stonzai, nor of
those who had suffered the crash in isolation, strapped in bunks and knowing
nothing of the peril. "Oh, Bran! Wait-I will go and see."
Again she climbed, this time not in frantic hurry. She reached Stonzai and
found the Shrakken female hanging against her safety harness as Rissa had
done, when she woke, and
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breathing evenly though not yet conscious. From the alien's mouth trickled
bright orange blood. Judging by the puddle below, the stream had been larger
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and was dwindling; in itself, the blood loss should not be serious.
At this point Rissa could do nothing helpful; she climbed past Stonzai's seat
position and found footing to stand. And from here she could see the hatch
that gave access to the bunkrocm.
The hatch was slightly ajar. At what was now its lower edge, something dark
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