Vernor Vinge - The Children of the Sky

Ravna had come over to sit nearby, beside the member with the white-tipped low-sound ears. Even at its best, this crippled creature couldn’t have climbed the rocks, but the rest of Flenser still kept it close. Ravna stroked White Tips along the neck, almost as she would a dog. It always accepted such affection. That had been one of the things that had made her want to trust Flenser-Tyrathect. White Tips emitted a rumbling purr; all of Flenser might be less of a sarcastic twit for a few minutes now.

“So you think the prisoner release is going to be down here?” said Ravna. “I don’t see signs of anyone but us here.”

Jefri and others were walking toward them from the tents. Despite Jef’s ambiguous reputation—some of the loyalist Children thought he was Ravna’s secret agent and others were convinced he was a traitor—Jef had ended up being their chief human advisor on this outing. As long as he was clearly working from Ravna’s game plan, everyone seemed willing to accept his expertise. The camp wouldn’t have settled down so quickly and comfortably without Jefri and Benky.

Elspa was just a few feet behind Jef. She gestured to Flenser. “Still no sign of Deniers?”

“Nope, sorry.” Flenser waggled his telescopes authoritatively. Today he had better eyesight than anyone.

Elspa plunked down near Ravna. “I pray … I pray they have my Geri.”

Jefri came around to Ravna’s right so he was standing by White Tips. He muttered just loud enough for Ravna’s ears and the pack. “They better have Amdi. There’s no excuse for not returning him.”

Flenser’s voice came even more softly, barely more than a hum that Ravna felt where her fingertips touched White Tips. “And they better have Screwfloss.”

Their party sat by the river for a time, speculating, sometimes arguing. A meal broke up the discussion, but not the mood. Afterwards Jefri was gone for a time, checking with Benky that the soldiers and lookouts were in position. Ritl was occasionally visible, on some scouting mission of her own.

Ravna checked in with their hidden expedition participant: Scrup had parked his airboat on a mountain pass selected by Oobii . He was playing relay; ionospheric bounce was not good enough today. Ravna wanted reliable communication back to Woodcarver and Oobii . Scrupilo kibitzed on the link but wasn’t supposed to mess with the main data stream. “Amazing,” he said. “From this mountain top looking east, it’s like being the Pack of Packs. I see glaciers and mountains going on forever, like a stony sea. Pilgrim used to brag about this.”

“I still don’t have imagery, Scrupilo.” Ravna’s data tiara was giving her audio, but she had no windows from Oobii .

“Sorry,” said Scrupilo. “Maybe your tiara is finally busted? We’re getting good pictures from Wilm Linden’s camera.”

“Okay.” Audio plus Wilm’s camera should be enough for today. She talked past Scrupilo: “Ship! What are you seeing?”

Oobii replied, “My radar shows mostly clear sky, a few bird swarms. I can’t see all the way down into the valleys.”

“Yes,” interrupted Scrupilo. “Damn Nevil. If his idiots hadn’t crashed EA2 , we might have our own look-down radar.” He ranted about Denier incompetence for some minutes; Scrupilo had his own geeky slant on what was wrong with Nevil.

The sun was well past noon when the packs farthest from the noise of the river sounded alarms. Their shouts were not quiet alerts. They were booming chords that announced, “Airship sounds! Airship sounds!”

Flenser was instantly scanning the ridgeline. “I don’t see anything.” He kept his scopes aimed at Nevil’s side valley, but there was a subtle change in the rest of him. He was listening with most of his attention. “I’m too close to the river. It’s not the best hearing … Yes! Airships, definitely.”

Now other packs began shouting. They were racing around, not looking anywhere in particular. Give me a clue, guys! thought Ravna. Where should I be looking?

Benky came racing down from the tree line, jabbing snouts at the southeastern sky.

Ravna followed the gestures. Nothing. And she still couldn’t hear a shred of engine sound … but now Oobii reported secondary radar echoes that might be aircraft following the curve of the Streamsdell Valley.

A minute passed. There! Just above where the glacial valley turned further south, she saw two dark spots floating against the snow glare.

Flenser was dancing around his telescope watchers. He had his own news: “Hei, hei! There are two-legs coming down from Nevil’s little valley.”

Eyes turned from the sky to the ridgeline. At least a dozen tiny figures were descending the valley wall. The abrupt, simultaneous emergence was as dramatic as Nevil and Tycoon had no doubt planned.

• • •

One of the airships might have been the one Ravna and Jefri had flown on; it had the Pack of Packs twelvesome painted on its nose. But the other airship was just as large. There was plenty of room for all the prisoners.

The ships didn’t immediately land. They circled in a long elliptical path above Ravna’s group, flying back and forth along the breeze that swept the valley.

Øvin made a rude gesture at the airships. “The crapheads aren’t going to land until the Great Nevil gives the command.”

Flenser’s had one telescope on the descending humans and the other two on the airships. Øvin Verring’s comment got his attention though: “Heh. That’s certainly the claim Dear Nevil would make. But I remember EA2 landings. It’s tricky without a ground crew to help.”

Magda Norasndot said, “Yes. Be nice, Øvin. We can’t afford nastiness.” She and Elspa Latterby were already talking about where the ships would land. They wanted to be at the front of the welcomers.

Benky had run back into the forest. Now he and some of his troops came into view, accompanying the Denier party. Ravna didn’t need a telescope to spot Nevil Storherte. How did he keep his clothes so clean out here? The villain strode confidently toward them. As he came nearer, Ravna could see he was grinning as with general good nature.

“Greetings, greetings!” Nevil shouted as the loyalist Children ran out to meet him. He stopped well short of Ravna to talk with those most desperate for news.

There were fifteen Deniers in his party. Tami Ansndot and several others were carrying cams and comms. They looked like a news crew from some ancient time. It was interesting the added importance they seemed to give whomever they were pointing at.

Nevil had picked Elspa out of the crowd. Ravna strained to hear him; the tiara was no help today. “Yes,” Nevil was saying, “communications have been awful. Getting better comms should be everyone’s highest priority. But I know your Geri is one of those whom Tycoon found. I know for a fact she is on the first airship—” He turned as Magda touched his arm. He nodded, giving Magda a hug. “Yes, I hope the Norasndots will be here too. We’ll know soon enough.” Some of the Children were openly crying.

Oops. Where is Giske? She wouldn’t be in the middle of all this unless she was carrying a knife. Ravna glanced quickly around. There—Giske was almost thirty meters away, arguing with Bili Yngva.

Now Nevil stepped back and his voice became more public: “Please. Give us a few minutes. We have to get the airships safely landed.” He looked into the sky at the farther airship, just now making a turn at the far end of its circuit. “I’ll land the one with our friends first. The other is just a backup flier.” He delivered this disappointment so casually that people scarcely seemed to notice. Could you really get all the missing on one of these airships?