First Command (27 page)

“In a nutshell, Commander Lazenby. In a nutshell.” Danzellan beamed upon her benignly. Then, “I am sorry that I cannot ask you aboard my ship, but we are rather cramped for space. In a merchant vessel carrying capacity for money-earning cargo is of greater importance than luxurious accommodation for personnel.”

“I understand,” said Grimes. Such merchant vessels as he had been aboard housed their officers in far greater comfort than did the Survey Service. He went on, “Maya, here, wishes to pay her respects to her sister queen. We will accompany her.”

“I’ll show you the way, Commander,” volunteered Mr. Delamere eagerly.

Danzellan frowned at his second officer and the young man wilted visibly. Then the captain relented. “All right,” he said. “You may take the party from
Seeker
to Queen Lilian’s palace.” He added sternly, “See that they don’t get lost.”

15

Delamere led the way
from the landing site to the town, walking fast. He did not pause when he took the party past a survey team from
Schnauzer,
busily engaged with tapes, rods and theodolite, working under the direction of a young woman with third officer’s braid on her shoulderboards. He acknowledged her wave absently. Watching the surveyors was a large group of children, with a smaller number of adults. These people, Grimes saw, were very similar to those whom he had encountered at
Seeker’s
landing place—well formed, beautiful rather than merely handsome. He was interested to note, however, that here the rudimentary nipples below the true breasts were the exception rather than the rule, whereas among Maya’s people almost every woman—as she herself—was so furnished.

The dirt roads between the houses were level and tidy. The wooden buildings were well spaced and these, unlike those in Cambridge, had glazed windows—but, probably, the winters on this continent would be relatively severe. There was an amplitude of trees and flowering shrubs in every open space.

Lilian’s palace was larger than the other houses. It had, like Maya’s, a tall staff standing outside its main entrance, a pole surmounted by a star fabricated from glittering metal rods. Also, in the full light of the westering sun, there stood just outside the door a metallic box, mounted on small wheels. Grimes had seen such contraptions before; this was the famous sun-powered refrigerator.

A tall woman came out to meet them. Her skin was creamy; the hair of her head and body was a glowing orange color. She said to Maya, “Welcome, sister. My house is yours.”

“Thank you, sister,” replied Maya. Then, “We have corresponded, but I did not think that we should ever meet.”

“You are . . . ?”

“Maya, from Cambridge, Lilian.”

“I know of you, Maya. Now I have the pleasure of knowing you.”

“Lilian . . .” said Delamere.

“Yes, Francis?”

“How is Tabitha?”

“She is well, Francis.”

“Can I see her, Lilian?”

“ It will be well if you do not, Francis. Unless you are willing to abide by our customs.”

The young man looked desperately unhappy. His long nose quivered like that of a timid rabbit. He said, “But you know . . .”

“What do I know, Francis? Only what I am told. Only what I see with my own eyes.”
(And those green eyes,
thought Grimes,
will see plenty.)

“Lilian,” Maya said, “I have brought friends with me.”

“So I see.” The woman was regarding the people from
Seeker
with a certain lack of enthusiasm. Her attitude seemed to be,
If you’ve seen one stranger from beyond the stars, you’ve seen them all.

“Lilian, this is Commander Grimes, captain of the ship called
Seeker.
The lady is Commander Maggie Lazenby. The gentlemen are Lieutenant Pitcher and Ensign Billard.”

Grimes saluted. Lilian Morrow inclined her head gravely, then said, “Be pleased to enter.”

They followed her into the palace. Inside it was very like Maya’s official residence, the big wall map being the most prominent decoration on a wall of the room into which she led them. She saw them seated, then excused herself and went back outside. While she was gone Grimes asked Delamere, “Who is Tabitha, Mr. Delamere?”

The second mate flushed angrily and snapped, “None of your business, Commander.” Then, obviously regretting his display of temper, he muttered sulkily, “She’s Lilian’s daughter. I . . . I met her when I was here before, in
Corgi.
Now her mother won’t let me see her again unless . . .”

“Unless what?” prompted Maggie. “Unless what, Francis?”

That’s right,
thought Grimes.
Turn on the womanly charm and sympathy.

Delamere was about to answer when Lilian returned. She was carrying a tray on which was a rather lopsided jug of iced water, a dish of some greenish looking flesh cut into cubes, glass drinking bowls. She filled a bowl for each of them from the jug.

The water was refreshing, the meat tasted how Grimes imagined that the flesh of a snake would taste. He supposed—he hoped—that it was non-poisonous. Maya seemed to be enjoying it.

“And now, Commander Grimes,” asked Lilian, after they had all sipped and nibbled, “what do you here?”

“I represent the Federation, Lilian . . . .”

“Just as Captain Danzellan represents the Dog Star Line. Captain Danzellan hopes to make money—and Morrow warned us about
that—
for his employers and himself. And what do
you
hope to make for yourself and your employers?”

“We are here to help you, Lilian.”

“Do we need any help, Commander Grimes?”

“The Survey Service, Lilian, is like a police force. You know what a police force is. You have read The History. We protect people from those who would exploit them, rob them, even.”

“Have we asked for protection?”

“You may do so.”

“But we have not done so.”

“Yet.”

“Lilian knows that she has nothing to fear from us,” said Delamere, more than a little smugly.

“Indeed, Francis?” The look that she gave him drove him back into sullen silence. Then she addressed Grimes again. “Commander Grimes, the relationship established between ourselves and Captain Danzellan is, on the whole, a friendly one. Captain Danzellan, in exchange for certain concessions, will bring us goods that we cannot make for ourselves. Before anything is decided, however, it will be necessary to convene a Council of Queens. I, of course, speak only for Melbourne—but Morrow foresaw that a time would come when matters affecting the entire continent, the entire world, even, would have to be discussed. Word has gone to my sisters of Ballarat, Alice, Darwin, Sydney, Perth, Brisbane—but there is no need for me to recite to you the names of all the towns of North Australia—that decisions affecting us all must soon be made. It is fortunate that our sister of Cambridge is with us; she will be able to report to her own people on what we are doing.”

“These concessions . . .” began Grimes.

“They are none of
your
business, Commander.”

Grimes looked appealingly at Maggie. She was supposed to know what made people tick. She was supposed to know which button to push to get which results. She looked back at him blandly.

Damn the woman!
thought Grimes.
Damn
all
women.
He floundered on, “But perhaps I should be able to advise you. . . .”

“We do not need your advice, Commander.”

“Mphm.” Grimes fished his battered pipe from his pocket, filled it, lit it.

“Please!” said Lilian sharply, “do not smoke that filthy thing in here!”

“So your great ancestor warned you about smoking. . . .”

“He did so. He warned us about all the vices and unpleasant habits of the men who, eventually, would make contact with us.”

“Oh, well,” muttered Grimes at last. Then, “I suppose that there is no objection to our visiting Ballarat, to look at your library, your records . . . .”

“That is a matter for the Queen of Ballarat.”

And there isn’t any radio,
thought Grimes,
and there aren’t any telephones, and I’m damned if I’ll ask Her Majesty here to send a messenger.
He said, “Thank you for your hospitality, Lilian. And now, if you will excuse us, we’ll get back to our pinnace and set up camp for the night.”

She said, “You are excused. And you have my permission to sleep on the outskirts of the town.”

“Shall we set up a tent for you, Maya?” Grimes asked.

“Thank you, no. Lilian and I have so much to talk about.”

“Can I see Tabitha?” pleaded Delamere.

“No, Francis. You may not.”

Schnauzer’s
second officer got reluctantly to his feet. He mumbled, “Are you ready, Commander? I’m getting back to my ship.”

He led the way out of the palace and back to the landing site, although his services as a guide were hardly necessary.
Schnauzer,
dwarfing the trees that grew around the grassy field, stuck up like a sore thumb.

Back at the pinnace Grimes, Pitcher and Billard unloaded their camping gear, with Maggie watching and, at times, criticizing. The little air compresser swiftly inflated the four small sleeping tents, the larger one that would combine the functions of mess-room and galley. Then Billard went to the nearby stream for two buckets of water. A sterilizing tablet was dropped into each one, more as a matter of routine than anything else. If the broad spectrum antibiotic shots administered aboard
Seeker
had not been effective it would have been obvious by now. The battery-powered cooker was set up, and in a short time a pot of savory stew, prepared from dehydrated ingredients, was simmering and water was boiling for coffee.

The four of them sat around the collapsible table waiting until the meal was ready.

Grimes said, “What do you make of it, Maggie?”

“Make of what?” she countered.

“The whole setup.”

She replied thoughtfully. “There’s something
odd
about this world. In the case of Sparta there were all sorts of historical analogies to draw upon—here, there aren’t. And how shall I put it? Like this, perhaps. The Morrowvians rather resent the violation of their privacy, but realize that there’s nothing much that they can do about it. They certainly aren’t mechanically minded, and distrust of the machine has been bred into them—but they do appreciate that the machine can contribute greatly to their comfort. I imagine that Danzellan’s ‘cold boxes’ will be
very
popular. . . . As for their attitude toward ourselves—there’s distrust again, but I think that they are prepared to like us as individuals. Maya, for example, has taken quite a shine to you. I’ve been expecting to see you raped at any tick of the clock . . . .”

“Mphm.”

“You could do worse, I suppose—though whether or not she could is another matter . . . .”

“Ha, ha,” chuckled Pitcher politely.

“Hah. Hah,” growled Grimes, inhibiting any further mirth on the part of his subordinates.

“Anyhow, as far as behavior goes they do tend to deviate widely from the norm. The
human
norm, that is . . .”

“What do you mean?” asked Grimes.

“I rather wish that I knew, myself,” she told him.

16

Grimes had Pitcher work
out
the local time of sunrise, then saw to it that everybody had his watch alarm set accordingly. Before retiring he called Saul aboard
Seeker—
his wrist transceiver was hooked up to the much more powerful set in the pinnace—and listened to his first lieutenant’s report of the day’s activities. Mr. Saul had little to tell him. Maya’s people had made considerable inroads into the ship’s supply of ice cream. Sabrina’s people had been coming and going around
Southerly Buster
all day, but neither Sabrina nor Captain Kane had put in an appearance. Saul seemed to be shocked by this circumstance. Grimes shrugged. Drongo’s morals—or lack of them—were none of his concern.

Or were they?

Grimes then told Saul, in detail, of his own doings of the day, of his plans for the morrow. He signed off, undressed, wriggled into his sleeping bag. Seconds after he had switched off his portable light he was soundly asleep.

The shrilling of the alarm woke him just as the almost level rays of the rising sun were striking through the translucent walls of his tent. He got up, went outside into the fresh, cool morning, sniffed appreciatively the tangy scent of dew-wet grass. Somewhere something that probably was nothing at all like a bird was sounding a series of bell-like notes. There were as yet no signs of life around
Schnauzer,
although the first thin, blue drift of smoke from cooking fires was wreathing around the thatched rooftops of Melbourne.

Grimes walked down to the river to make his toilet. He was joined there by Pitcher and Billard. The water was too cold for the three men to linger long over their ablutions, although the heat of the sun was pleasant on their naked bodies. As they were walking back to the camp Maggie passed them on her way to her own morning swim. She told them that she had made coffee.

Soon the four of them were seated round the table in the mess tent to a breakfast of reconstituted scrambled egg and more coffee. Rather surprisingly they were joined there by Maya. The Morrowvian woman put out a dainty hand and scooped up a small sample of the mess on Grimes’s plate, tasted it. She complained, “I don’t like this.”

“Frankly, neither do I,” admitted Grimes, “but it’s the best we can offer.” He masticated and swallowed glumly. “And what can we do for you this morning?”

She said, “I am coming with you.”

“Good. Do you know the Queen of Ballarat?”

“I know of her. And Lilian has given me a letter of introduction.” With her free hand she tapped the small bag of woven straw that she was carrying.

“Then let’s get cracking,” said Grimes.

While Maggie, with Maya assisting rather ineffectually, washed the breakfast things Grimes, with Pitcher and Billard doing most of the work, struck and stowed the sleeping tents. Then the furniture and other gear from the mess tent was loaded aboard the pinnace, and finally the mess tent itself was deflated and folded and packed with the other gear.

From the pinnace Grimes called
Seeker,
told Saul that he was getting under way. While he was doing so Billard started the inertial drive, and within seconds the small craft was lifting vertically. As she drew level with
Schnauzer’
s control room Grimes could see figures standing behind the big viewports. He picked up his binoculars for a better look. Yes, there was the portly figure of Captain Danzellan, and with him was Eklund, his mate.