Chapter Twenty-One

The Silver Suit

from the Library cassettes, year 200 SM:

THEY STOPPED TWICE: ONCE AT THE MARKET, TO LET Raym off with half his pay in hand, and once at a pond, to refuel.

Belmy’s log was very slowly turning end-for-end. A thread of steam poured from above the tuft. As Carlot made her final bum to bring Logbearer to rest near the midpoint, Woodsman cast loose and moved toward them.

Serjent House was just visible to antispinward: west. Rather tried not to think about the dot visible alongside it. He welcomed the delay.

Debby said, “I’d like to get this over with—”

Clave shook her by the ankle. “Wrong! We went into the Dark for mud, and we’re back to get rid of it. We don’t know of anything urgent. We’re in no hurry at all.”

Carlot shouted from where she and Rather worked the rocket. “Stet! Treefodder, they always make us wait!”

They had it all figured out. But copter plants were launching their seeds in Rather’s belly.

Woodsman eased alongside. Hilar and RaffBelmy flew toward Logbearer. “You’ll like Raff,” Carlot whispered. “Act like you like Raff.”

“It’s all right. I’d make babies with him if it’d make you happy…or get me away from the Navy.”

Hilar introduced his son. (Treefodder, but they were big!) Raff smiled much and said little. He was shy for an adult, Rather thought. He stared at the tree dwellers, but his eyes seemed to slide aside from Rather’s.

The teapot passed. Carlot asked, “How are you doing with the log?”

Hilar shrugged. “No burl yet.” The others laughed. “Give it time. We have some spin. I don’t think we want to overdo it. We’ve splashed a pond against the trunk; that gives us a water flow. How are you planning to deliver the mud?”

“I…hadn’t thought past just bringing it here.”

“Raff and I talked it over—”

Raff spoke. “Dad always says keep it simple. We’ll just impact it against the tree, lee side, two, three klomters above the tuft. There’s already water running down to the treemouth. Let it carry the mud too. Easy, steady delivery system.”

He can talk when it’s about something real, Rather thought. “Have you done a lot of logging?”

Raffs head bobbed. “I spend more than half my life in the outer sky. Sometimes I wondered what living in a tree would be like.”

They were getting used to that question. Clave said, “I miss it myself. Well, you grow up shorter and stronger. Cooking’s easier. Hunting’s different: the wind throws the prey at you…”

Rather tuned it out. The dot next to Serjent House must be a Navy ship. He felt their long-sight devices on him. What the Navy saw must look puzzling. Let them wonder: he had an explanation both interesting and innocent.

His attention snapped back when Hilar said, “Booce has been making deals. I expect he’ll pay back the loan well before crossyear.”

Carlot asked, “Has the Navy bought the metal yet?”

“No. In fact, something’s upsetting the Navy. I haven’t heard a rumor I can believe, but…stay alert, Carlot. You know you’ve got visitors?”

“We can see them. Hilar, Raff, it’s time to deliver our cargo.”

It took a day and a fraction and was entirely straightforward. Logbearer burned toward the turning tree. Her crew dismounted the spokes that braced the web that supported the mud. Mud and lines and wooden spokes smacked the trunk hard enough to stick. Water flow was already carving a runnel in the mud as Logbearer accelerated away. They’d be back to collect the beams and lines after they were washed clean.

Gyrfalcon was not moored; it floated free a hundred meters from Serjent House. Two men working on the hull did not return Clave’s cheerful wave. Rather recognized one as Petty Wheeler. They watched fixedly while Logbearer’s crew swarmed out and set about the business of mooring their ship.

Rather looked around the common room while they tethered their wings. One fast look and then he’d have to react:

No teapot. Not a social occasion. Booce Serjent looked angry and unhappy. Bosun Sectry Murphy started to jump toward Rather, then pulled herself back. Three longlimbed Navy men were stationed around the walls, and a fourth: silver suit, helmet thrown back, bearded dwarfface within. Wayne Mickl.

Rather let himself break into a delighted grin. It was surprisingly easy. He wanted to reassure Sectry; he was glad to see her. He let his eyes flick from Sectry to Wayne Mickl to Sectry again. He blurted, “Am I in?”

Sectry flashed from unhappy to angry. Wayne Mickl broke into delighted laughter. “Very good! But, Rather, there just aren’t enough dwarves to make it work. Take him.”

Two of the Navy crew were on him. They pulled him loose from his handhold, set him spinning in the air. He caught glimpses of them rebounding from walls. Then one had wrapped his arms and legs around Rather’s lower ribs from behind, and the other had a foot in Rather’s crotch and Rather’s two ankles in his hands, stretching his legs straight.

There was a wrestling trick. Jill had shown him, in the brief period when she was stronger than he was. You wrapped your arms or legs around your opponent’s short ribs and tightened them. Your opponent couldn’t inhale.

Presently he would faint.

Rather had used it on others afterward, and been punished for it. Most of the children were smaller than he was. Jilly wasn’t, but she didn’t have the strength of a dwarf after they beth got older. Rather had been taught not to fight. He still got angry sometimes, but he learned to control it. Sometimes he wrestled with adults. He generally lost.

The man behind him (call him Navy #1) was letting him breathe, but shallowly. The other (Navy #2) wasn’t kicking Rather’s seeds into his belly; but he could. Rather held the red rage in check. “Booce?”

Booce answered the implied question. “You tell me. Where have you been?”

“The Dark. We’ve delivered Hilar’s mud. We’ve got some walnut-cushion and—”

“The Navy went through this house like a whirlwind. I told them about the sporing fringe in the concrete. I was about to show them a hiding place I made in the door. I think they’d rather chop my house apart, and I get the distinct impression that it’s all your fault—”

“Shut it, Booce,” Mickl said. “Rather, what did you think you were coming home to?”

Anger made his thoughts murky, but he’d rehearsed this part in his mind. “I thought…I saw Sectry and I saw you. I thought the Captain-Guardian had come personally to tell me I was in. The Navy. You know. But—”

“You must know that an officer wouldn’t care that much about a new inductee.”

“Well, you’re here and…someone told me you’re very eager to put another dwarf in the Guardian slot. What me you doing here, Captain-Guardian?”

“It’s a mistake!” Sectry burst out.

Mickl didn’t shout; he projected his voice over hers. The walls shivered to it. “Let me tell you something about mistakes. There’s—”

“No, allow me.” Rather reached for the foot in his crotch with both hands. He had it before the leg could snap straight, and he twisted. His rib cage closed. He stopped breathing and kept twisting. The leg buckled.

Navy #2 was pulled close; he loosed Rather’s ankle and Rather kicked him twice under the jaw. Now his hands were free to pull the constricting arms apart and over his head and down. Torsion pulled the legs free too, and he could breathe.