GENELLAN: PLANETFALL(165)
Late on a bleak morning, the new season arrived with a discordant symphony; on the great river, great chunks of ice shattered and twisted. The irrepressible liquid force of the river crushed its own brittle armor, causing the ground to tremble and the air to vibrate. The awestruck humans assumed another that quake was rattling the land; there had been many since their arrival, but these sounds were peculiar—drawn out, animate. The earthlings stared in wonder as the moaning and crunching continued unabated.
"The river!" MacArthur shouted, a distant memory of Canadian springs returning. "The river! The ice is breaking up. Winter's over!"
And then it started raining.
* * *
Hudson wondered what was going on. The guards were restive. Operational activity had increased; landing modules had made numerous trips to the army transport in orbit. Something was happening.
His guards shifted nervously. Hudson turned to see Et Silmarn in the company of soldiers coming down the rows of vegetables. The noblekone carried a familiar-looking bundle. Hudson bowed. The noblekone held out Hudson's konish full-pressure suit, the suit used for the sub-orbital flight to Goldmine.
"Master Huhsawn. It-ah time to return to your people! Put-ah on your space suit-ah," Et Silmarn ordered.
Hudson could hear the kone's helmet radio transmitting. Longo must be monitoring the conversations, using Kateos's translation programs. His anxiety swelled. Were they going to let him go? Or were they using him as bait?
"It will take a few moments," he said, using the konish language.
"Colonel Longo has-ah order you to get quick ready," Et Silmarn replied, curiously sticking to Legion. "You have-ah time to dress with your warmest clothing. We leave now."
"Your command of my tongue is excellent," Hudson said in konish, talking as he put his things in order, buying time. "I am proud of your progress. Is there any reason why you are speaking my tongue? Are you testing Kateos' s translation program?"
Et Silmarn smiled uncomfortably. "Thank-ah you for compliment. You are most kind-ah, and logic is correct-ah. No more questions. Please to hurry."
* * *
"Cassy," Carmichael announced over Peregrine One's command circuit. "Fleet acknowledges your recommendations, and flag operations has cleared us for a landing. Commencing return to low orbit. We'll launch a survey team as soon as we are in position to de-orbit the lander."
"Roger, Jake," she replied. "Finally!" she added under her breath.
"Holy torpedo, look at the size of that thing!" Godonov stammered. He stared through the high-powered optics, his hands deftly working the controls.
"What is it, Nes?" Quinn asked.
"That manned alien platform we've been tracking—the big one. It must be an interplanetary ship," Godonov said. "It's maneuvering in low orbit. We'd better tell Commander Carmichael. Here—take a look! You won't believe it."
Quinn stared into the eyepiece, adjusting the instrumented reticle. Godonov' s assessment was correct; she double-checked the magnification settings. The satellite—the spaceship—was a thousand meters in length! The telescope's motion-detection indicator started flashing. Quinn increased the magnification to maximum in time to see objects separate from the larger craft. Engines bloomed in retroburn, and the two craft dropped from sight.
"Tell Commander Carmichael the alien ship just deployed and retrofired two objects, probably landing modules. Something tells me they're looking for the same thing we are."
* * *
After days of rain only a few dirty pockets of snow remained. Rivulets of silty water poured from the mountains; streams swelled with impatient force, and the great river, usually not loud enough to be heard from the settlement, thundered and crashed. Sunlight weaved through scattered clouds, highlighting the proliferating buds and blossoms. Grasses poked fine needles through the humus, metamorphosing the dull and dirty ground into glorious shades of emerald. Fragrant wildflowers bravely spread their petals in random abundance.
Lee, wrapped in furs, reclined in the intermittent sunlight, enviously watching the bustling settlement. Baby Hope slept soundly at her mother's breast. Fenstermacher stood on the threshold of the stone hut, leaning against the open door frame.
"You sure you're comfortable?" he asked. "I can get more furs—"
"I'm fine, Winnie," Lee replied, her voice regaining much of its strength. "I need to get back on my feet. There's work to be done. It's time to start planting."
"Buccari gave me orders to take care of you and to keep you on your back," Fenstermacher announced. "And I intend to follow those orders—for the rest of my life."