Frank Herbert - The Jesus Incident

A cry escaped her, but the sound was lost in the abrupt roaring, metal-straining protest as the freighter made its first contact with the sea. For a few blinks, the ride smoothed; there was a gliding sensation followed by a cushioned deceleration and lifting, then a grating, grinding cacophony which ended in a thumping and stillness.

"Where are the people?" That was Hali's voice.

Waela opened her eyes, looked upward at the ceiling of the freighter's sparse cabin - metal beams, soft illumination, a winking red light. Somewhere there was a sound of surf. The freighter creaked and popped. Abruptly, it tipped a full degree.

"There's someone." That was old Ferry.

Waela turned her head, saw Ferry and Hali releasing themselves from the command couches. The plaz beyond them framed a seamed barrier of black rock only a few meters away illuminated by wavering beams of artificial light.

Ferry's hand moved to a control in front of him. There was a hiss near Waela's feet, then the sudden rush of cold sea wind through an open hatchway. It was night beyond those moving lights. The hatch was blocked for a moment by the entrance of two people. As though awakening from a dream, Waela recognized them - Panille and Thomas.

"Waela!" They spoke in unison, both appearing startled at the sight of her.

Hali pushed herself away from the control console, intensely aware that Panille was focused on Waela's mounded abdomen. Neither Panille nor the man with him, she realized, had expected to see Waela, and certainly not in the full bloom of pregnancy.

"Kerro," Hali said.

He faced her, equally startled. "Hali?"

Thomas threw his head back in sudden laughter. "You see? A surprise package from Ship!"

Waela fumbled with the straps holding her to the couch. Hali rushed to assist her, released the straps and helped her off the couch. The sound of the surf was loud and they could feel its pounding through their feet.

"Hello," Waela said. She took three short steps up to Thomas, hugged him.

Hali tried to identify the play of emotions across the man's face. Fear?

Panille touched Hali's arm. "This is Raja Thomas, leader of the army and nemesis of Morgan Oakes."

"Army?" Hali looked from Panille to Thomas.

Thomas gently released Waela's grip around his waist, steadied her while he directed a glare at Panille. "You joke about this?"

"Never." Panille shook his head.

Hali could not understand the exchange, she started to frame a question, but Thomas spoke first.

"What else is in the freighter?"

The Bitten program responded, a crackling voice from the overhead 'coder, full of baps and bursts of static but the listing of the cargo manifest remained understandable.

"Weapons!" Thomas said. He ran to the open hatch, shouted something to people outside, whirled back. "We have to unload this thing before the surf breaks it up or Oakes' people destroy it. Everybody out!"

Hali felt a touch on her shoulder, Ferry standing there. "I think I'm owed an explanation." Even his demands were shaded in whines.

"Later," Thomas said. "There's a guide right outside who'll take you to our camp. She'll tell you everything you need to know."

"Demons?" Ferry asked.

"Nothing like that around here," Thomas said. "Now hurry it up whil...."

"You can't dismiss him just like that!" Hali protested. "If it weren't for him, Murdoch would hav.... We'd be dead!"

Panille directed a quizzical stare at Hali, then at Ferry. "Hali, this old man works for Oake.... and for himself. He's an expert at the game of power politics and he knows that we're a highly negotiable commodity."

"That's all past," Ferry sputtered. The veins in his nose stood out like worms.

"Your guide's waiting," Thomas said.

"Her name's Rue," Panille said. "You might remember her better as Rachel Demarest's cubbymate."

Ferry swallowed, started to speak, swallowed again, then: "Rachel?"

Panille shook his head slowly from side to side.

A single tear formed at the corner of Ferry's right eye, slid down his veined cheek. He took a deep, trembling breath, turned and shuffled toward the hatch. All the energy and urgency he had displayed earlier were drained from him.

"He really did save us," Hali said. "I know he's a spy bu...."

"Who are you?" Thomas asked.

"This is Med-tech Hali Ekel," Panille said.

Hali looked up at Thomas - so tall! His eyes held her. He appeared to be in some ageless ring of middle age, but when she took the hand he held out to her, it felt firm and youthful. A commanding hand, confident. She grew aware then that Waela and Kerro were touching. Kerro's arm was around Waela's shoulder, guiding her toward the hatchway.

"Med-tech," Thomas said. "You'll be a great help to us, Hali Ekel. Come this way."

Hali resisted the pressure of his arm and watched Kerro reach out, inquisitive, to touch Waela's abdomen with one finger.

Thomas saw the gesture and focused on Waela. "Something's wrong with her. She should not be that bi...."

Thomas loves her, Hali thought. The sound of concern was plain in his voice.

"My pribox says she's only a few diurns from parturition," Hali said.

"That can't be!"

"But it is. Only a few diurns. Otherwis...." Hali shrugged. "...she appears to be healthy."

"That's impossible, I say. It takes much longer for a baby to develop int....

"Lewis does it. You heard what the E-clones said." That was Kerro returned from the hatchway, not concealing a faint amusement at Thomas' confusion.

"Yes, but. . ." Thomas shook his head.

"Can you climb down to the beach by yourself, Hali?" Panille asked. "The rear of the freighter is already breaking up. And I think Wael...."

"Yes, of course." She moved past him - the familiar face and familiar voice, his body much thinner than she remembered, though. It struck her then: He's not the Kerro I knew! He's change.... so different.

Behind her, she heard Thomas muttering: "I want to examine that woman myself."

"BLOW THAT cutter. Give me the particulars later." Lewis switched off the com-line, and turned to face Oakes across the Command Center. As though this act conveyed some deep communication, they both turned to look up at the big screen.

The bustle of activity around them went on - some fifty people guiding the Redoubt's defenses under the eyes of the armed Naturals quietly watchful at the edges of the room. But to Legata, who stood near Oakes, it seemed that the noise level went down dramatically. She, too, stared at the screen.

It was early Rega morning out there, and the light showed the massed ring of hylighters, the waiting mobs of demons at the cliffs - all strangely held in check. Something new had been added this morning, however. A naked man sat on a flat rock pinnacle to the southeast, hylighter tentacles brushing against him. Sensor amplification had showed his features in close-up - the poet, Kerro Panille.

On the floor of the plain beneath Panille stood a plasteel cutter fitted with wheels, E-clones and what appeared to be Naturals grouped around it. The cutter's deadly nozzle was pointed toward the Redoubt - too far away for that model to do any damage, but unmistakably menacing.

The most menacing thing of all was the fact that no demon moved to molest any of the people waiting beside the cutter. Pandora's terrible creatures waited with the others in mysterious docility.

"We should know in a blink or two," Lewis said. He threaded his way through the room's activities to stand near Oakes and Legata. All of them stared up at the screen.