Captain Cosette (18 page)

“
Don’t you have a vehicle?” asked Rasora.

“
Only the rumbler.  Everything that works is gone, remember?  By the time we got the rumbler here, and loaded her and unloaded her, it would be faster just to carry her across the strip.”

Riling returned with the stretcher poles over his shoulders.  They laid the stretcher out and moved Cosette onto it, despite her protests that she wasn’t helpless.

Back at the compound they cut away the back of her uniform and Tiebout used clean cloths to remove the blood from her back.  Cosette would have preferred some privacy, but the men clustered around in concern.

Cosette heard the intake of breath as her back was cleaned. 
“What?” she asked.  “Is it bad?”

“
No, no, a dozen stitches ought to do it.  The medic’s on his way; he’s getting some supplies and washing up.  You’re going to be fine.”

“
But…?”

“
But…”

Cosette wondered why the woman was hesitating.  She imagined horrible things. 
“Yes?”

“
But…your back.  You’ve got scars.  Old ones, lots of them.”

“
Really?”

“
Yes.  Stripes, like you’ve been whipped.”

“
You’re kidding.”

“
No, I’m not.  Didn’t you know you had scars?”

“
I can’t see my back.  I don’t remember anything happening to my back.”

Rasora spoke up. 
“Cosette’s had a memory loss.  She doesn’t remember anything about her childhood.”

“
Oh,” said Tiebout.  “Amnesia.”

“
Not really. Well, sort of. It was an accident with a teaching machine.  A lot of her memories are still buried, including those about her childhood.”

The medic arrived, clucked at the wound, and began spraying something cold on her back. 
“Worm?”

“
No,” said Tiebout.

“
Ragged metal,” said Riling.

“
Ah.  Good.  Those worms carry some bad diseases.”  The medic pulled some equipment from his bag and began closing the wound.

“
Don’t you remember getting those scars on your back, Cosette?” asked Tiebout.  “Someone whipped you pretty bad.  Who would do such a thing?”

Maybe
I
was
a
wicked
child
,
stealing
whatever
I
wanted
. 
Or
I
had
older
sisters
who
hated
me
because
I
was
so
much
more
beautiful
than
they
. 
Or
maybe
I
knew
where
the
man
I
loved
was
hiding
,
and
they
wanted
me
to
tell
because
he
was
a
spy
and
I
wouldn’t
,
no
matter
how
they
whipped
me
and
…

“
Whoever did that should have been jailed.”

“
Maybe he was,” said Rasora.  “Or she was.  Until Cosette’s memory comes back, we can only guess.”

“
There should be records,” said the medic.

“
If there are, they’re back on Sorine somewhere.”

“She’s going to have another scar from this,” said Riling.  “Maybe she should give up being a soldier and learn how to fish.  As I said, I could always use a….”

“
Could we have some privacy?” said the medic.  “I need to put some dressings on her.”

“
Everybody out!” said Tiebout.  “Now!”

Cosette watched them file out.  She felt some tugging at her back as the medic finished closing the wound, but no pain.

The last to leave was Major Dyson.  She had not heard him come in, but he looked at her with concern, and grasped her hand.

She squeezed back
.  “I’m okay.”

He nodded, and pulled the door closed behind him.

“You’ve cut into some muscle here, but you’re young and you’ll heal fast,” the medic said.  “For the next couple of days you need to limit your activity.  No work.  No sports.  Nothing fun, you understand?”

“
Yes, sir.”

“
Don’t ‘sir’ me, I’m not an officer.”

“
Yes…..doctor.”

No
work
.

And
every
hour
the
Union
forces locked
the
planet
in
tighter
.

Chapter Twelve

Audrey waved a feminine hand at Geraldo, who was unpacking her exotic faux silk dresses. 
“You’re such a darling to put those away for me, Geraldo,” she said, unaware that her world and her heart were about to be shattered again in
Blazing Hearts on Fire Again
, the sequel to this novel (soon to be available as a major vid production). 

Geraldo held a diaphanous red dress in front of him as though wondering if it would fit. 
“I’m sorry, babe, but the bodice is ripped on this one.”

“
That happens often,” she said, waving her hand again.

Cosette
turned off the Renée Chevalier book and watched the wooden boat slide onto the beach.  Private Riling leaped out, his dark skin sparkling from the surf.  He pulled a net from the boat with several flopping fish in it. 

“
Hey, girl!” he shouted to her, “I got a couple
ardomi
today!  Tonight we feast!  You ain’t lived until you tasted
ardomi
!” 

He hefted the net over his back and hauled the load up to a hut topped with wooden shingles as children wearing
tops in blue and purple and green danced and cheered alongside him.  Tiebout leaned in the doorway, her arms folded.  She was wearing native clothes, a combination of blousy pants, a bare midriff, and a short top of riotously colored cloth. 

“
Did you find a woman to clean for you?” Cosette called to Riling.

He grinned and pointed to Tiebout. 
“My wife does the fish.  She’s a good cook.”

Cosette twisted in her hammock and looked at Tiebout with puzzlement. 
“You’re his wife?”

Tiebout laughed. 
“I hate to admit it, but yes.  As I said, some of us have gone native.”

“
But, back at the compound, he was asking me, I mean, he sounded like he was looking for a wife, didn’t he?”

Tiebout shook her head. 
“He was just complimenting you.  You have to know these people.  Besides, if he had been serious I’d have taken his head off.”

Riling laughed, dropping the net at Tiebout’s feet. 
“I don’t know nothing about nothing, I just have fun!”

Tiebout picked up the net of fish and carried it inside.  Riling winked at Cosette and followed his wife into the house with a swagger.

Cosette rolled back in the hammock and tried to resume Chevalier’s romance novel, but soon gave it up and walked to an open bower where Major Dyson and Rasora were chatting.  Lieutenant Garale was stewing in the local brick jailhouse, still wearing the bracelet that prevented his escape.

Cosette
sat in a wooden chair under the vine-covered bower and waited for their conversation to finish.  Rasora wore the ragged pants and rough shirts of the native people, which went well with his dark hair and craggy eyebrows.  His lighter skin and large size set him apart, though.  He stood half again as tall as the average Aquataine native.

Major Dyson was in fatigues, apparently reluctant to set aside his military clothing entirely.  His long brown hair was pulled back and tied behind his head, and his blue eyes were peaceful.
He looked comfortable living among the natives. 

A
man
for
all
seasons
,
as
Renée Chevalier
put
it
.

Cosette had switched to native pants and a hip-length shirt.  She was uncomfortable with the bare midriff style, and besides, it show
ed the bandages on her back.  During the past week Cosette had mostly recovered from her injury; she could now bend without pain, and she was growing restless. 

Every
day
Dyson
spends
on
this
planet
,
the
tighter
the
Union
fences
us
in
. 
He’ll
be
a
prisoner
just
as
if
he
was
wearing
a
bracelet
.

As if overhearing her thoughts, Dyson turned to her. 
“Good morning, Captain.  How are we feeling today?”

She smiled at the title
“Captain,” however unofficial.  “Better.  I can sleep on my back, now.  I’d get in the water except it’s salty and I don’t know what’s in it.”

“
Their children swim in it.”

“
To be honest,” she said, “those waves frighten me.  I don’t think I’ve ever swum in an ocean before.”

“
Still missing some memories, eh?”

She nodded.

Rasora tilted his head.  “You still don’t remember how you got those scars on your back?”

She shook her head slowly. 
“Not a clue.  Something’s blocking those memories, something big.”

“
What do you mean?” asked Dyson.

She shifted in her chair, crossing her legs under her. 
“All the other lessons that got jammed into my brain by that machine came loose one by one, usually because something made it happen, something triggered it.  Like when I first tried to assemble an E7 field rifle.  I had no idea that I knew how to do it until I picked up the pieces.  I don’t know and I haven’t a guess what’s covering my childhood memories, but it’s some layer of knowledge that hasn’t shaken loose yet.”

“
When you remember something,” asked Rasora, “is it like seeing the pages of a book?  What are the lessons like?”

“
No, it’s not at all like book learning.  It’s like they pulled the knowledge from someone who knew that information, and I get their experience as well as their knowledge.  After I assembled some rifles, I found that I was a dead shot with them.  And when I took the controls of the cruiser, I knew how to fly as though I’d spent years at it.”

Dyson nodded. 
“I had a couple sessions in my early training on one of those teaching machines.  I know what you mean.”

Rasora turned to Dyson. 
“I don’t understand.  Why don’t they do all your training on machines, then, if they can do that?”

“
Good question.  Camaraderie, for one thing, the cooperation that comes from learning as a group.  And flexibility in what you learn.  The Alliance only uses the teaching machines to speed up training, or to fill in background stuff.  And of course, Cosette here is an example of the dangers of teaching machines.”

She started to snort but caught herself. 
“It wasn’t the machine’s fault.  Professor Roland was reading the manual when he wired me up.  He called the machine ‘second-hand Alliance technology.’  I don’t think he knew what he was doing.  He put hundreds of titles on the screen just to show me what was in the machine’s library, and when he went out in the corridor and got himself shot, every file on the screen got dumped into my head.”

Dyson leaned forward. 
“Which makes you a valuable person.  You’ve got the specs on their technology in that brain of yours.”

And
I’m
putting
us
in
more
danger
every
day
I
lay
around
.

“
I want to go back to the compound.”

Dyson’s eyebrows lifted. 
“Why?”

“
We’ve got to get off of this planet.  I’m fit enough to work.  I still think we can get a flyer assembled and get out of here.”

“
I see.  Yes, if we can do that, we should.” 

Rasora frowned. 
“Are you sure your back is fit enough to work?”

“
Fit enough.  I’ve lain around too long.”

Dyson stood and stretched, which drew Cosette’s attention to his broad shoulders and chest. 
“I agree,” he said.  “It’s been a great vacation, but we’re being wasted here.  I’m foolish enough to think that the Alliance can use us, so I suppose we should pack up the rumbler and head back.”

“
Nobody’s going nowhere,” said Riling, padding up to them in his bare feet.  “My wife’s got the
ardomi
cooking, and the other ladies are preparing goodies.  We’ll have us a feast on the beach tonight.”

Cosette looked at Dyson to see what his decision was, and to her surprise he was looking at her the same way.  They both spoke at the same time.

“That’s fine with me,” she said.

“
I can stay one more day,” he said.

Riling laughed, something he did often now that he was back at his village.  Dyson went with Riling to get firewood, and Cosette went in to help Tiebout with the cooking.  She ought to learn how to cook
ardomi
.

Who
knows
? 
I
could
be
stranded
here
forever
.

And
would
that
be
so
bad
?

*

A row of fires along the water’s edge took the chill off the ocean air, and some plant juice rubbed on their skin kept away the stinging insects that came out at sunset.  Plates of
ardomi
were laid out, lightly seasoned and steaming from the charcoal pit.  Arrangements of fresh and cooked vegetables adorned the wooden tables, interspersed with fruit. 

Word had gone out that the visitors might be leaving, and everyone had put on their brightest clothes and festive behavior.  The short native women were freely kissing everyone on the cheeks, a custom new to Cosette.  She thought about taking the opportunity to kiss Rasora and Dyson, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.  A kiss still meant more to her than just hello
or goodbye, and she wasn’t ready yet.  Besides, Rasora had already fended her off just for looking at him affectionately. 

Drums and flutes played and the native men danced fearlessly, showing more enthusiasm than talent.  Cosette filled a plate and was amazed at the delicate meaty flavor of the
ardomi
.  She appreciated the vegetables but a taste of the red fruit was sour enough to send her to the flasks of water.  Some things were just an acquired taste.

She found herself sitting by
Private Tiebout and chatting.  Private Tiebout’s first name was Janyn, and she hadn’t taken her husband’s name when they married.  “That’s not their custom,” Janyn explained.  “Sometimes three or four of them will move into a house and take care of each other, sharing everything, and as a group they’re considered married.  Riling’s a good man and he knows I expect him to be faithful, so he is.  He’s kind of proud of his giant white wife, though I don’t know why.”

“
Any children?” Cosette asked.

Janyn shook her head and looked sad. 
“My fault.  Can’t have any.  But there are lots of mixed children.”

“
How long have you been on this planet?”

“
I was born here.  My folks would have been scandalized that I took up with a native man, but those old prejudices are passing.  I guess it’s…”

A distant boom interrupted her, and Cosette looked up.  Her memories told her that it was a sonic boom, and after searching the evening sky she saw a thin contrail, lit by the last rays of the setting sun.

Major Dyson walked up to her, and she pointed out the thin line to him.  “Looks like they’re starting to visit,” she said.

“
I’m afraid so.”  He exhaled.  “Enjoy the party while you can.  We’re heading back by way of the tunnel at dawn.”

*

They entered the tunnel at first light, carrying provisions from the village and wearing their uniforms again.  Tiebout and Riling stayed behind to help clean up after the feast, as did Sergeant Cogshank.  “The compound at the landing strip is closed as far as I’m concerned,” the Sergeant said, “and I’ve got no skills you can use.”

When Dyson and Cosette went to fetch Lieutenant Garale from the brick jail, Rasora complained. 
“Why not just let him sit and rot?  We can’t trust him.”

“
If the Union visits the village,” said Dyson, “he could get the natives in trouble and give us away.  With him gone, they’ll find nothing but primitives, and while they might force a couple of the young men and women into the service, they’ll leave the rest alone.  But if they find Garale there, they’ll wipe out the village and everyone in it.  Then they’ll come after us.”