Resurgence

“He has us over a barrel, At,” he said, as soon as the door was closed. “If we were anywhere close to home territory, I’d say we chuck him out of the airlock and make the jump ourselves. But we can’t take the risk. Reefs are real enough, and so are space sounders. I’ve never seen ’em myself, but I know people who ran across ’em in the Messina Dust Cloud, and they’re not something you want to mess with. What do we do? He goes down to Pompadour every day, and he comes back pale green. You just know he’s been cooking himself.”

“I have a simple suggestion, Louis. When Claudius goes down to Pompadour next time, make sure that he is accompanied.”

“By who? I went down there once, and it’s a total dump that looks like it collects all the rabble in the Sag Arm. I’m not picky, At, but I won’t go there again—an’ I can’t see you doin’ it. As for J’merlia and Kallik, we could make ’em go, but I don’t think we should. They’re too good for that.”

“I was not proposing any of the parties that you have mentioned. I was thinking of your female, Sinara Bellstock.”

“She’s not my female! Anyway, what reason could I give her for goin’ along with old Claudius?”

“Suggest to her that a survival specialist should experience as many different planetary environments and meet as many alien species as possible. Naturally, you will also ask her to keep an eye on Claudius, just to make sure that he does not get himself into trouble. Two ends will be accomplished simultaneously. Claudius knows his way around the surface of Pompadour, which should assure the safety of Sinara Bellstock. And her presence will undoubtedly curb the usual excesses in his behavior.”

Louis reached up and patted the Cecropian’s chest plates. “At, if I’ve never said it before, I’ll say it now. You’re a raving genius. I’ll go give Sinara the news. You know what? I bet she’ll be delighted. An’ so will I. She’s been hangin’ round me the past few days tight as a tick on a dog’s backside. I can use a break.”

* * *

That had been a day and a half ago. Sinara had jumped at the chance, and Claudius appeared curiously unworried by the prospect of a companion on his trip. The two had taken the pinnace of the Have-It-All and left almost at once.

Louis Nenda glanced at the clock in his master suite. He wasn’t about to say so to his partner, but maybe Atvar H’sial wasn’t such a genius after all. The day on Pompadour was a long one. Where Claudius and Sinara arrived on the planetary surface it would have been early morning. Now it would be past midnight. Somewhere, somehow, the odd couple had spent a long day and a long evening.

What the devil were they doing?

Louis sat restless at the round table, with its finely patterned surface. In the kitchen, Kallik had been unobtrusively busy. As always, she was sensitive to Nenda’s moods.

The Hymenopt entered carrying a covered bowl. “They will surely return, Master Nenda. There is no need to fear for their safety. I hope that this meets with your approval.”

Louis knew that it would. With her refined senses, Kallik was a superb cook. He removed the cover and nodded his appreciation. There was no point in telling Kallik that she had it all wrong. If Claudius did something stupid and got himself snuffed down on Pompadour, Louis wouldn’t grieve for a second. But then they would be back to the search for a navigator. Anything you found down on Pompadour was likely to be the dregs.

Louis ate slowly and steadily. No matter where you were, no matter what was happening, it was a rule of life: Eat, or be eaten. He suspected that Kallik had included in the dish before him a hundred delicate flavors of which he was unaware. And one flavor of which he became steadily more aware as he continued to eat. Kallik worried about her master’s tense condition. She had added a few drops of one of the many secretions that a Hymenopt’s poison sac could produce. They ranged at her will from a lethal neurotoxic poison, to anesthetic, to tranquillizer. What Louis tasted now was close to the last of those, with some new and subtle variation.

Louis could still worry—Where the hell were they?—but he was becoming drowsy and relaxed. He finished the bowl and drank with some suspicion the contents of the tall glass that accompanied the food. He was no connoisseur of fine wines. When you had been raised to regard muddy water as a treat, you tended not to be picky. But the concoction that Kallik had prepared tasted unusually pleasant.

Louis ran his hand over the fine-carved table top. Carved was the wrong word. It was actually chewed into those distinctive patterns by the worker-termites of Llandiver. He could never go back there, of course, not after what had happened. If he lost this table, he would never find another like it. As Kallik crept in to clear the dishes, Louis wandered through to his bedroom.