N-Space - Part 67
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Part 67

"Aye-firmative."

"You all hear? Watch your tethers!"

"Ambitious dreams of our research teams Are touted by the press But we can't find We can't find We can't find We can't find We can't find the creature in Loch Ness!"

Curtz tested his own tether as the prop spun up and the ship eased backward. Admiralty fitters had mounted the blades aft, like the motors on a rocket, on the first few spinner ships they built. They'd stopped that after a crewman lost his grip and fell into the blades. A navvy could still manage that while a spinner ship was backing up.

The songbird was standing upright as if in tide, clinging with her toes to a plug of black mud. Short golden hair haloed a pale triangular face. A musical instrument, nearly two meters of wooden tube with holes along its length, was strapped across her back. She watched Flutterby's Flutterby's approach without sign of fear. approach without sign of fear.

"Cut it!" called the Captain. The woman waited until the blades spun to a stop, then jumped toward Flutterby. Flutterby.

Renho and Dunninger were already in the sky, tethers trailing as they leapt to catch her. Across the sky it was difficult to tell navvies apart. They weren't identical. Renho was strong, but Dunninger had been a kiteman. His hands and wrists, feet and ankles were sinewy, laced with blood vessels, actually stronger than a dwarf's. But they were skeletally tall, their hair was cut identically short, and their identical red uniforms were only distinguished by big black number-letter designations on chest and back.

Graceful as h.e.l.l, they tugged their lines to stop just alongside the songbird. She offered a hand to each, smiling her thanks.

They looked like giants next to her.

Against the wind and the whupwhupwhup whupwhupwhup of the motor Maxell Curtz could hear his heart pounding in his ears. of the motor Maxell Curtz could hear his heart pounding in his ears. She was tiny. She was tiny.

Her voice came to him, clear and musical. "-pulled a bunch of us off toward Brighton. I saw another kiteman coming too. Most of us must have been rescued by now."

"I'll tell the Captain," Renho said.

"But the citizens who didn't get out of the tufts are still in trouble. Can you get word to other Navy ships?"

They caught themselves against the hull, caught their breath, then pulled themselves aft toward the cabin. Capability's Harp looked him over as they pa.s.sed. Her eyes were an intense and vivid blue. She was definitely interested. Curtz smiled back, admiring. A moment later she was gone.

Interest in him? him? Chances were that she'd never seen a silver suit. Chances were that she'd never seen a silver suit.

Voices from the cabin: Harp was trying to describe Capability Tree's situation and calm the climber boy from Brighton, simultaneously.

The blades spun. The ship moved forward. Vanes tacked and backed as the ship wove a path among half-hidden bark sheets and ma.s.ses of ancient mud. Suddenly there were insects everywhere, in Curtz's ears and hair and mouth. He slammed his helmet down and turned on the internal air, and breathed his first clean air in hours.

While he was at it .

He tongued a switch.

Colors went all wonky. He let the sky turn past him. Big crimson blotch: he switched the display off (and saw a huge gape-mouthed fish, a bug eater) and on. Three smaller brighter dots: switch off (a triune family swimming hard after Flutterby) Flutterby) and on. A cloud of tiny dots would be birds; he didn't bother to look. The big crimson blotch wouid be the bug eater again. A smaller glare (off) was the triune family, now joined for cursorial hunting, not that they'd ever catch and on. A cloud of tiny dots would be birds; he didn't bother to look. The big crimson blotch wouid be the bug eater again. A smaller glare (off) was the triune family, now joined for cursorial hunting, not that they'd ever catch Fiutterby. Fiutterby.

and a crimson glare in his peripheral vision. He switched the display off and turned.

She was there beside him on the twenty-ce'meter-wide ledge.

She wasn't a dwarf. She was short and stocky, but longer than Maxell Curtz by ten or twelve ce'meters. As Curtz realized that, she smiled enchantingiy, and dropped to one knee on the ledge. It brought them face to face.

"Thank you for my life," she said. "I'm Harp."

He opened his helmet and tilted it back. "Guardian Maxell Curtz. I've been looking for refugees with heat vision. All I'm finding is scavengers. How are you doing?"

"I'm all right. I'm worried about my people in the tufts."

"Are they really in trouble?"

"Well, they're not in good good shape. They've got two short trees, each with one tuft, falling out of the median in opposite directions. The median's where everything is, air and water and food. The out tuft has the steam rocket, but the others could all die before they're blown back." shape. They've got two short trees, each with one tuft, falling out of the median in opposite directions. The median's where everything is, air and water and food. The out tuft has the steam rocket, but the others could all die before they're blown back."

Harp's chin was pointed and her mouth was small, with a curve like a recurved bow. It would always look pursed for kissing. Curtz was having trouble concentrating. He said, "We'll send them ships."

"Thank you."

Guardian Curtz smiled back. "Trust the Navy, and be glad you live this close to the Admiralty. Rescue is what we do best."

The crew were in motion now, scampering over the hull, unrolling many square meters of silvered cloth onto a wire frame. Curtz said, "There, now, we're out of that goop," as if he were running the show. "Now we can send a mirror message to Headquarters. Four or five days, we'll have ships at both tufts."

"At what price, Guardian?"

Maxell was a bit jolted. Climbers didn't know about bargains and money, did they? He would have preferred to talk in terms of gallantry and rescue and the benefits of belonging to a mighty empire, and.

"Your credit's good. Were you thinking of buying elsewhere?"

Her smile had faded. "It isn't as if we could do without. My father saw a half-tree once, before we moved into the Grove. The tree was fine, very green and thriving, already growing another out tuft. It must have taken its own sweet time floating back into the Smoke Ring. Some of the tribe must have jumped. The rest looked like they'd suffocated. All dead."

"Two ships can evacuate a whole tuft if there's not enough air for them."

"Your motor needs air, doesn't it?"

oOps.

Captain Murphy was near the nose, dictating to Renho as he shifted the mirror. Curtz jumped along the hull, stopped himself with a jerk at his line. Behind him there was music. Harp had begun playing, using the wind from the propeller.

"It's a matter now of pride!

We are after Nessie's hide-"

"Captain?"

"Guardian. How's our songbird?"

"Cool as a snow cloud. She must do this every day. In fact she's got a suggestion."

Murphy stared. "She's just a climber, stet?"

"I want to tell Headquarters to send rockets rockets to the half-trees. Spinner ships are air-breathing. The motor could run out of air." to the half-trees. Spinner ships are air-breathing. The motor could run out of air."

"Actually . . . good point, Guardian. Renho, you heard?"

Renho was already wobbling the mirror back and forth. The beam pulsed against the faint haze, pointing back into the Admiralty.

CHAPTER TWO.

YEAR 419 DAY 115.

Triunes were hunting birds, ubiquitous throughout the Smoke Ring. The tribemark for London Tree had been triunes mated for distance flying, male and female and child all locked belly-to-belly into a three-lobed torpedo, seen nose-on.

Brighton Tree was a colony of London Tree. Brighton's tribemark was a triune family just separating to hunt. Aim's kites bore the same mark.

The tribemark glowed at the tree's midpoint, scarlet and yellow dye on a black char background, nine meters across. Lift lines rose toward it from both tufts, and a pair of huts bracketed it. The dye was fading and half overgrown with bark. To Aim Newbry it was the sight of home, the certain knowledge that he was not lost in the sky.

Aim was decelerating, the free kite pulling in-and-east. His pa.s.sengers led him westward toward the triune symbol. They had grown weary of terror during four days of flying. Now they only clung in silence. Aim had grown to hate their shifting, uneasy weight.

Somebody was waiting next to one of the huts.

Aim brought his pa.s.sengers to a stop a few tens of meters short of the trunk. Better than smashing them against the bark. Tired men make mistakes. Aim started to bring the free kite around. . . almost no wind, and tricky too, distorted by the two-klomter thickness of the trunk . . . He gave up and stowed the kites instead, because Capability's Captain Ling was kick-kick-kicking at the end of the line, towing them all toward the tree.

The man on the bark came flapping out to help. Aim recognized his younger brother David. David and Ling flew the line back to the trunk and began pulling in the rest.

One by one the refugees spread themselves across the bark, men and women and children, facedown, clawing and twitching as if trying to mate with the tree. Aim was the last to be reeled in. He tethered himself and let it go at that, for his dignity's sake.

"You didn't say you'd gone hunting," David said.

"I'd gladly have shared the catch," Aim answered. His mind was fuzzy with exhaustion.

"Captain Burns says they can have the in tuft."

The in tuft had been empty for just over two years. Shortly after the tree arrived in the East Grove, most of the crops had died quite suddenly and for unknown reasons. Aim said, "Good. You can tell Captain Ling-him-but give him some time first."

"I'd say he needs it! Are you you all right?" all right?"

"Tired."

"Bertam and Gilly got back without you. The others are still out."

"There was a Navy ship. I sent Stevn there to get help."

"Did you. What about Marlo?"

"He was flying nicely, last I saw him. He's the oldest, he did fine on the tests . . ." Two boys missing out of four.

Ling and two others had recovered a little. They were examining the lift arrangements, tactfully out of earshot.

David was studying his face. "You and Natlee are having trouble, stet?"

Aim shrugged. "Nothing special."

"She doesn't smile anymore, and the kids don't talk to each other. Now, what is it? She's carried guests before."

"Sure, David, and she turns mean as a snake. You never noticed?"

"No. Three children and, what, a dozen lost ones? She'd be used to it. Other women don't have trouble carrying guests."

"n.o.body but Natlee. David, I'm too tired for this."

"I would would have noticed. This is something else, Aim. When Bertam and Gilly came down, and no Stevn, I saw Natlee's face. Have you ever taken her flying?" have noticed. This is something else, Aim. When Bertam and Gilly came down, and no Stevn, I saw Natlee's face. Have you ever taken her flying?"

"Hah! I got her as far as the lift line. As soon as we . . . yeah."

"Yeah, what?"

"Natlee is afraid of failing. There's just no reasoning reasoning with that kind of fear." with that kind of fear."

"She doesn't want Stevn flying either. Stet?"

"As soon as the line lifted us clear of the foliage, as soon as she saw open sky, Natlee freaked. No, No, she doesn't want Stevn flying. She doesn't want she doesn't want Stevn flying. She doesn't want me me flying, and I'm the Kitemaster!" flying, and I'm the Kitemaster!"

"Look, if. . ." If Stevn doesn't come back. "If you need help, come to me."

"David, she'll be all right as soon as our guest is born. And Stevn, he's . . ." Had training? It was their first time in the sky. The boys had flown kites from the branch, they'd climbed to the midpoint and watched Aim flying. That That wasn't training. First time out, and he'd lost two students including his own son. wasn't training. First time out, and he'd lost two students including his own son.

First things first. "Captain Ling, you can leave the children with me. Take whoever can travel and go down on the lift line. There'll be a lift cage along for the children."

Ling said, "I'll wait for my people, Kitemaster."

"Stet." He was their Captain. "David, go home."

"Aim, have you noticed?" David pointed east.

A rectangular fleck . . . a pair of yellow flecks. Mario?

"That's good. Now go down to your dinner." Alin would not be stared at while he waited.

"Will you and Mario join us? Shall I tell-"

"I'll send Mario down. The Navy ship- If Stevn-" And if it didn't come, he'd still sleep better on the trunk. If he went down without Stevn, Natiee would make him fight before she'd let him rest.

David seemed to read his thoughts. He moved away to speak to Captain Ling, who was stringing refugees on the line to the in tuft. "Captain Burns begs you to make free of our unoccupied in tuft . .

Aim tuned him out. The kites did seem to be coming here. Yellow? He didn't notice when David left.

Ling didn't try to rush his people. Many needed more time to huddle against the bark. He asked, "Who's running the treadwheel, Kite-master?"

"No treadwheei, Captain. We've got a windmill moving the lift line."

Ling nodded and changed the subject. "And you don't seem to have a rocket. How on Earth did you get to the East Grove?"

"Cla.s.sified, sir. You can examine the windmill, though." Ling clearly hadn't recognized the word.