Resistance: Hathe Book One (29 page)

On
closer inspection, he saw the cloth was cheap and the jewels fake.
But from a distance, from the crowd mobbing the square outside, she
would look to be richly clothed, the stiff folds of her gown
falling straight from shoulder to floor and every inch bejeweled
and embroidered. Formal and regal, not cheap and bizarre. The
close-set sleeves molded to the exquisite slimness of arm, and her
hair was carefully coiled about the long strand of pearls she
favored with what appeared to be ambrosite and diamonds winking
here and there among the rich bronze.

Des
Trurain, in a white, close-fitting coat and soft, bagged trousers
caught into boots of whitest synleather, appeared less bejeweled
but just as magnificent. Not for the first time, Radcliff
recognized the body of a natural athlete, set off today by a sash
of deep, shimmering black, studded with false diamonds, jaridite
and even what, at a distance, would appear to be a huge, yellow
lignosite, rarest stone in the Alliance.

Low-slung about the hip of each was a girdle, equally jeweled
and embroidered, carrying a holster. Their presence on the
magnificent figures could only be regarded as sinister by any
viewer, Terran or Hathian.

“
Where did you get those?” was his stunned
reaction.

“
We’ve been expecting such a disturbance since the wedding was
announced with so few precautions,” replied des Trurain. “The
outfits may be fabrications, but at a distance they’ll serve our
purpose.”

“
You
have the weapons?” Marthe’s cold voice was unlike anything he’d
heard from her. Even his soldiers were falling back in awe.
Silently, he signaled for the two hand blasters to be passed over.
Both took them in a completely familiar grasp, sighting with
professional assurance.

“
You’ve used Terran blasters before?”

“
For
hunting. You made the best in the Alliance,” answered des Trurain,
making the compliment an insult.

“
Remember, one false move and the guards have orders to
destroy you both.”

Neither Hathian gave any sign of hearing him.

“
If
you go first with a few men to announce us, we’ll follow behind,”
said Marthe.

Hamon
passed through the doors, to be greeted by a sea of angry, chanting
faces, many with hoods thrown back for the first time in public to
reveal the greasy, native hair. For once, their heads were up,
their voices raised in angry challenge. Violence hung over the
crowd. Shouts of ‘Kill the Liegers’, ‘Down with the tyrants’,
‘Death’s too good for them’, reverberated across the packed
square.

As he
held up his hand, the shouts died to a low, fierce rumble. For now,
they would hear what he had to say.

He
spoke the words exactly as Marthe had dictated them.

“
We
have brought the Haut Liege as you requested. You may lay your
grievances before them. However, know that we regard this to be a
purely Hathian matter, and the outcome is your own affair. I give
you Jacquel des Trurain and Marthe asn Castre.”

As he
pronounced their names, the rumble grew to a loud, angry swell.
Then, all noise ceased abruptly, and a strange silence quivered in
the air. Turning involuntarily, he saw the cause.

Two
grim-faced, aristocratic figures strode arrogantly forward. Giving
way unconsciously, the Terran soldiers allowed the pair to proceed
to the balcony edge, to stand revealed in all their glory to the
silent menace beneath. At first, they merely gazed sternly down at
the crowd. Then it happened. A stone flung through the air,
followed by a vicious dart. The stone grazed Marthe’s forehead and
the dart embedded itself in des Trurain’s left arm. In a flash, two
blasters drew, fired and two white clouds were all that remained of
two protesters.

Chillingly, des Trurain’s voice cut across the stunned
silence. “As you heard, this is a purely native matter. Remember,
therefore, who you are and who we are and disperse to your homes
without further nuisance. The next malingerers will not be so
fortunate in the speed of their punishment.”

Hamon
saw the effect of that chilling voice on his soldiers and cursed
silently. Below, the natives subsided, their heads fearfully
downcast.

“
There is to be a feast for you today, in honor of the Lady
asn Castre’s marriage,” continued des Trurain, bowing haughtily to
Marthe, who now spoke for the first time.

“
There will be food and drink dispensed to all, as there used
to be. Ensure that the standard of behavior is also as it used to
be. Any deviations will be dealt with according to the ancient
customs of this planet.”

Hamon
watched her eye the rabble. Her performance, if it was that, was as
effective as des Trurain’s. A disconcertingly wan cheer rose on all
sides. There were half-hearted calls of ‘Blessings to the Lady’ and
‘Many thanks’ as quietly the crowd broke up and left. In a few
moments, all that remained was an empty square, bare of all but the
dark stains left from two piles of ash, the sole residue of two
human peasants who had dared to stand against their past
overlords.

The
threatening figures of that deadly retribution turned and walked
back inside. Not till they were safely behind the shielded doors
did Hamon see any sign of relaxation in either Hathian.

“
Now
that’s taken care of, let’s get on with the preparations,” he heard
Marthe say to Jacquel as they passed their weapons back to
him.

Hamon
looked at the settings. Destruct. They had been on the lowest
setting when he’d issued them. In the deft swiftness of that deadly
instant, he’d missed the quick finger flick of both on the
controls.

Beside
him, Marthe was easing the dart from des Trurain’s shoulder,
causing a slow flood of darkest red to trickle down his arm. “You’d
better come along to my quarters and let me bind that for you,” she
said in an unconcerned voice.

“
And
you had better clean up that graze,” returned des Trurains. “I hope
you’ve some covering screen for tonight. You’re going to have a
bruise.”

“
Mmm,” she replied, gingerly putting her hand to her head and
suddenly swaying in pain. Hamon jumped in to take her arm before
the Hathian could touch her again. He was surprised, and secretly
relieved, to feel the slightest of tremors.

“
Those rabble,” he ground out.

“
I
thought we came off pretty lightly,” said des Trurain. “Nice to see
you haven’t lost your touch, Marthe. Good shooting.”

“
The
same to you. But I will have you know that stone was thrown quite
hard.”

“
You
were expecting trouble like that?” Hamon demanded.

“
After your leniency? Of course. A second uncle of Jaca’s was
killed by such a crowd only ten years ago.”

“
It
was his own fault,” Jaca added.. “Reckoned he was going to reason
with them. Hah! Not even armed, the idiot.”

Hamon
hauled her round to face him. “You went out there, knowing you
could be killed?”

She
looked surprised. “What do you think I’ve been telling you for days
now?”

He
didn’t have to say it. That he’d believed her then as little as he
believed most of what she said about her life as a Lieger; but
those few moments on the balcony had shaken his convictions, just
as the relief and fear he felt deep in her was shaking him still.
All he could do to calm it was to urge her to get her head checked
by a doctor.

For
once, he and des Trurain were on the same side as the Hathian added
his urging. Her long and wrangling reply that she would do no such
thing till she was rid of this ridiculous get-up didn’t help in the
slightest, and it was in fraught bickering that they made their way
to the medical section.

There,
Marthe’s temper was flayed further by the ‘primitive hack hands’,
as she put it, of the hospital staff. To which the Terran doctor
finally growled that she would have to be at death’s door before he
would come near her again and slammed out, leaving her in command
of the treatment room. Hamon tried to reason with her, and had his
head snapped off too. It was only des Trurain she would allow to
remain. Hating it, but still terrified for her, Hamon was forced to
concede and leave them to it. Worse, he couldn’t mistake the
locking of the door behind him. If anything happened to her, she
was now beyond his help. He rammed his hand hard against the wall
and began pacing, refusing to go any farther from her. That was
asking too much.

Marthe
had seen the anguish on his face, hidden to all but her. There was
nothing she could do about it, but it didn’t make her feel any
better about hurting him again. She hugged her arms as she watched
Jaca sweep the room for bugging devices. He shook his head and
grinned in reassurance.

“
By
the Pillars, thank God that’s over,” she breathed, her rigid
control breaking as she sank against him. He gave her a quick hug
while at the same time urgently contacting base to learn what she’d
been too scared to find out.

“
You
can relax, Mimi. We hit the dummies.”

She
let out a whoop of joy and burst into tears at the same time. “I
was so sure I’d missed.”

“
You’re not the only one. It’s so long since either of us has
fired a shot. But we did it!” He leaped up with a shout, then was
caught by the pain in his arm, and suddenly sat down again. “Damn
them. Did they have to be so realistic? Our people may not like
your marriage but they could’ve expressed it in less painful
ways.”

“
Mmm,” she agreed, nodding her head vigorously then stopping
abruptly as a sharp pain shot across her brow. That stone had been
decidedly bigger than needed. “Come on. I can’t keep Hamon out of
here for too long, and I need to find their cerebral scanner. My
head’s not made of concrete, no matter what that idiot thought when
he decided to chuck a boulder at me.” She sorted through the room,
opening cupboards and recesses before coming upon the control panel
for the cerebral scanner. She slid it out disbelievingly. “This
can’t be it. It’s not even three-dimensional. Don’t these people
know anything?”

“
It
will show you something, though?”

“
Yes, in a time consuming and inaccurate fashion. I’ll have to
take a whole series of oblique shots to get any kind of usable
image. Here, press on this control pad when I tell you to.”
Thoroughly exasperated, she fed in the brain scan program, then sat
still while Jaca took a series of cross-sectional shots, and was
partially satisfied to see no visible abnormality. But worse was to
come. “They call this a neurometer?” she scoffed, glaring at the
array of figures and tracings.

“
It
seems to put out a great deal of information,” he said
soothingly.

“
Yes, and a lot of use it all is to me. There’s no analytical
or correlative function. It’ll take me at least an hour to sort out
this rubbish, and it leaves out the two most important variables.
That does it. My head will just have to be all right. Give me your
arm. I should be able to fix that at least. They must have basic
medical supplies.”

If her
head didn’t hurt so much, she would’ve been amused at the relief on
his face. He never had liked being on the receiving end of her
fouler moods. Fortunately, in tending to his wound, she managed to
work off the better part of her pent up terror.

“
Feeling better now?” he asked shortly afterwards.

“
Yes. Sorry.”

“
No
worry. I saw your face when that stone hit. Didn’t you know how
much our people dislike your marriage?”

“
I
do now. That man really meant it. Did you see who it was?” She’d
seen, but needed his confirmation.

“
Your cousin Griffith, who else? He said he was best fitted to
do it, apparently. He did promise not to make it too damaging—only
enough to be realistic.”

She
grimaced. “Trust him. Griffith’s always disapproved of anything I
do and can’t resist letting me know it. His throwing is as accurate
as ever, though. That bruise will take days to come out
properly.”

“
You
do know he’s not the only one who disapproves of your marriage?
Don’t go into town unguarded for now. This new program of civil
violence our superiors have decided on may succeed in distracting
the Terrans, but it’s also loosened a few too many restraints among
our own people. The word’s gone round among the hotheads that
you’re free game.”

Jaca
may have expected another outburst, but this was something she knew
already. Volatile she may be, blind never. “Hopefully some of my
less well known deeds will be published later or I may find myself
in an awkward spot in the new regime,” she said dryly. “But enough
of that. Is everything in place for this evening’s ceremony and the
link-ups ready?”

“
Yes. The channels are booked for sunset. You’re going to have
one of the largest weddings in memory, as long as you remember your
vows.”

“
I’ve been practicing nightly.”

“
And
afterwards, for the sake of our superiors’ questionable tempers,
you will make sure you keep Radcliff out of the way for a while?
You are having a honeymoon?”