Alien Skies, page 29
part #3 of Wakanreo Series
“You’re making too much out of this,” Kamuhi said. “Tomorrow I’ll be on time, and we’ll have a real workout.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kamuhi got cleaned up and changed back into his uniform. He checked himself in the mirror, but he saw none of the signs of concussion, so he walked back to his office to look for some headache pills. He found a couple in his desk and popped them into his mouth. A few minutes after they dissolved, he started to feel better.
Kamuhi had just sat down to finish the report to Captain Drushachh when his com set beeped. When he pressed the button, a Shuratanian face appeared. It took Kamuhi a moment to place Jared’s aide.
“Good day, Ensign,” she said. “Commander Harlengin would like to see you in his office at your earliest convenience.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Kamuhi knew very well that the phrase was a polite fiction for immediately. “I’ll be right there.”
When Kamuhi arrived at Jared’s office, the Shuratanian was expecting him. She tapped the code to open the door, and Kamuhi went right in.
He was about to relax as the door closed behind him when he noticed that there was someone else in Jared’s office. He came to attention and saluted.
“Take it easy, Ensign,” Jared said. “This is Hubert Da Gama, Chief of Intelligence. He wants to ask you some questions.”
“Good afternoon, Ensign,” Da Gama said. He was a Terran, a little younger than Jared, but closer to him in age than to Kamuhi. The insignia on his collar consisted of three wavy lines in a circle instead of an emblem of rank. Kamuhi concluded that Intelligence must be part of Admin rather than Military.
Da Gama was sitting in a chair opposite Jared’s desk. “Sit down,” the Intelligence Chief went on. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Kamuhi took a seat and waited.
“Now,” said Da Gama, “about this old Wakanrean woman who came to the gate. What did she want exactly?”
Kamuhi was surprised. “How do you know about her, sir? That just happened this morning.”
Da Gama smiled. “I’m in charge of Intelligence, Ensign. It’s my business to know things like that. Now, the guard at the gate called you because he knew you speak Wisutan. But when you came out, you not only spoke to her, you took her inside the base. Why?”
“Back it up a little, Hubert,” Jared suggested. “Have him tell you what happened when he first got the call.”
“All right,” Da Gama said. “You’re in your office, Ensign, and the com set beeps. What happened?”
“Do you want it word for word, sir?” Kamuhi asked.
“Can you give it to me word for word?” Da Gama asked, surprised.
“Yes, sir.”
“Just a minute.” Da Gama took out a small audio recorder and set it on the table. He pressed a switch and then nodded at Kamuhi. “Go ahead, Ensign. What happened when the com beeped?”
Kamuhi shut his eyes a second and concentrated. He began to relate the conversation with Schubert. Da Gama stopped him right away.
“Why did you ask if there was anyone with him, Ensign?”
“If there had been, sir, I would have asked them to bring the old woman to me. I didn’t know how long it was going to take to deal with her, and I didn’t want to be late for an appointment later in the morning.”
“But there was no one with him?” Da Gama asked.
“No, sir,” Kamuhi said.
“Let him go on,” Jared said.
“Pick it up again, Ensign. There was no one with him.”
“Yes, sir.” Kamuhi went on and described seeing the old woman sitting on the floor and speaking with her. “Do you want me to tell you in Wisutan dialect or shall I translate it, sir?” he asked Da Gama.
“Leave it in Wisutan,” Da Gama said. “I want all the connotations.”
Kamuhi went over the whole conversation. When he got to the part where the old woman described Yulayan as taking a fijazhai into her bed, he felt a sudden rush of embarrassment, but he kept going. When he told how the old woman had suddenly figured out that he was the Terran who had fathered the little parundai, Da Gama stopped him again.
“You’re sure you hadn’t said anything to give that away?”
“Quite sure, sir. The conversation went exactly as I’ve related it.”
“And you didn’t get all flushed like you just did now when she was talking about you and your wife?”
“No, sir. I wasn’t embarrassed with her, sir. She didn’t know it was me she was talking about, not then, anyway. I was just surprised.”
“Go on, Ensign, word for word,” Da Gama said.
Kamuhi got to the point where he had called Yulayan.
“Do you need to know what I said to my wife, sir?” he asked.
Da Gama grinned sympathetically. “No, Ensign, just tell me the gist of that part.”
“Yulayan agreed to let the old woman see Malia, but she didn’t want her to come to our apartment. I arranged to meet Yulayan and Malia in the park by the gate.”
“All right,” Da Gama said. “Now go back to word for word again.”
Kamuhi went through the time on the park bench. He described how he wanted to prepare Umphauron Diow for the fact that Malia didn’t look Wakanrean. When he related her comments about the Trishenhai going among the stars, both men looked interested, but Da Gama didn’t interrupt.
Kamuhi took the narrative all the way to where he had brought the old woman back to the gate. When he related what she had said about wandering in her mind, Da Gama smiled.
When Kamuhi finally stopped, the Intelligence Chief switched off the recorder and shook his head in admiration. “You speak Wisutan like a native, Ensign. Did you speak it before you met your wife?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Just out of curiosity,” Da Gama asked, “how many languages do you speak?”
“I’m fluent in about twenty, sir.”
“How many of them are Terran languages?”
“Twelve, sir.”
“And you can always relate a conversation of that length word for word?”
“Yes, sir. For a few days anyway. After that, it runs together a little.”
Da Gama looked over at the Commander. “Give him to me, Jared. I could use him. We wouldn’t have to worry about electronic scanning for bugs. We could have him just sit there and listen and then tell it all when he gets back.”
Jared shook his head. “Drushachh would have my head on a plate. He’s only been in Security a few months, and remember, I already gave you Arneson.”
“Drushachh’s got a whole bunch of muscle-bound Milorans over there, not to mention the Shuratanian computer whiz,” Da Gama complained. “What does she need with a nice wholesome young Terran who speaks twenty languages and is a walking audio recorder?”
“Why don’t you go and ask her?” Jared suggested.
“No way,” the Captain said. “And if you’re not going to give him to me, don’t tell her I asked for him.” He turned to Kamuhi and said, “And don’t you tell her either, Ensign. That is a direct order from a superior officer. I’ve still got my captain’s bars somewhere.” He got up, slipped the audio recorder into his pocket, and sketched a salute in Jared’s general direction.
“We’ll run it through Analysis and see what they say,” he said, and he went out the door.
Jared turned back to Kamuhi who let out a sigh of relief.
“Had a rough day, Kam?” Jared asked.
“A little bit,” Kamuhi admitted.
“Must have been. What the hell did you do to your head, kid?”
Kamuhi looked startled. “How did you know?”
Jared laughed. “Come on, Kam. I know what your head usually looks like, and I notice when a lump the size of a bird’s egg suddenly appears on the back of it. What happened?”
“I hit a wall.”
“I figured that part. How did you happen to hit a wall with the back of your head?”
“It was in a practice fight.”
Jared leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. “Tell me, kid, if you keep getting hurt, where does the practice part come into it? They sound a lot like real fights to me.”
“I was practicing, Jared. Everyone in Security practices, even the Shuratanian computer whiz.”
Jared shook his head. “In the time you’ve been in Security, who else has been in the hospital?”
“Corporal Soong had to go to the infirmary for a cracked rib.”
“Anybody been hurt twice besides you?”
“I only went to the hospital once.”
“You mean you got that bump on the back of your head and you didn’t get anyone to check it out?”
Kamuhi shook his head. “I’m fine, Jared. I don’t have any symptoms of concussion.”
“Did it knock you out, Kam?”
Kamuhi nodded. “Just for a few seconds.”
Jared swore in Wisutan. “How can anybody as smart as you are act so dumb? You go by the infirmary and have someone who knows what they’re doing make sure you don’t have a concussion, you idiot.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And be more careful, Kam. If you get hurt too much, I will give you to Da Gama, no matter what Drushachh says.” Jared smiled mischievously. “Better yet, I’ll tell Drushachh I’m going to do it because you said she’s not taking care of you properly.”
Kamuhi was alarmed. “Don’t do that, Jared. I’ll be careful.”
“You had better be,” Jared said. He sat up and took his feet down from the desk. “That’s quite a talent you have,” he commented, “that word for word recall.” He grinned broadly. “I notice you didn’t volunteer that ability when I held the hearing on Macaulay’s indiscretions?”
Kamuhi glared at him and advised him in Wisutan that his ancestors had included a repulsive creature of nasty habits. Jared just laughed.
Kamuhi stood up to leave, but Jared held up a hand.
“One more thing, Kam. I need those bars back.”
It took Kamuhi a second to realize he was referring to the ensign’s insignia on his collar. He was surprised since he couldn’t imagine what Jared needed them for, but he reached up to unpin them and handed them back.
“Here,” Jared said, “you can have these instead.” He slid his hand across the desk, and when he lifted it, Kamuhi could see the double bars of a lieutenant’s insignia.
Kamuhi stood and stared at them for a second.
“Put them on,” Jared said. “They’re yours now.”
“But I’m only an ensign,” Kamuhi said. “And what happened to sub lieutenant?”
“You were an ensign,” Jared corrected. “And you breezed past sub lieutenant.” He grinned. “Don’t look so surprised, kid. Drushachh put you in for it.”
Kamuhi took the bars and pinned them on his collar.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Hailoaka,” Jared said. “And don’t forget to go by the infirmary, or I’ll bust you back to ensign so fast you will get a concussion.”
“No, sir.”
“Now get out of here,” Jared said. “I have work to do.”
Chapter Eighteen
Kamuhi didn’t have a concussion, but the medtech in the infirmary insisted that he stay under a healing accelerator for several minutes to reduce the size of the bump. Kamuhi was impatient because he had a report to finish, but he did it. His head was much less sore by the time he left the infirmary.
He worked on the report as soon as he got back to his office, and he had it done by the deadline. After he hit the key to send it to Captain Drushachh’s attention, he sat back in his chair. He was trying to determine the implications of the old Wakanrean woman’s visit when his com set beeped. It was Drushachh. She didn’t stay on the screen long; she just told him to come see her and signed off.
Captain Drushachh was sitting behind her desk when he came in. Unlike some Shuratanians, she was comfortable with Terran-sized furniture and had a full-sized desk. It seemed very large for her, and Kamuhi was still trying to figure out why there was a hole in the top of it about twenty or thirty centimeters from the front edge. The Captain looked up when Kamuhi came into the room and saluted.
She returned the salute. “Sit down, Ensign,” she said, and then she took a closer look at his collar, and corrected herself. “Sit down, Lieutenant, and congratulations.”
“Thank you, ma—Chief,” Kamuhi said, taking a chair.
“Now,” said Drushachh, “what did Da Gama want?”
Kamuhi held back a laugh. “How did you know about that, Chief?”
“I have my sources, just like Da Gama. What did he want from you?”
Kamuhi related the incident of Schubert’s call to him and the old woman at the gate. Drushachh was very interested in what the woman had to say about Malia.
“How did she know you were the father?” Drushachh asked.
“I don’t know, Chief,” Kamuhi admitted. “Maybe she had a description of me? As Terrans go, I’m pretty conspicuous because of my height.”
“Yes, but she would have noticed that first thing.”
After Kamuhi had related the rest of the old woman’s story, Drushachh asked about Da Gama.
“I don’t suppose he told you how he knew about it?”
Kamuhi shook his head. “No more than you did, ma’am—Chief.”
Drushachh tapped on the desktop with two fingers. “Do you know why there was an opening for an officer in this group when I hired you?”
“No, ma—Chief, I don’t.” Kamuhi couldn’t recall hearing anything about his predecessor.
“Because Hubert Da Gama waited until I had trained Madga Arneson into a first class officer and then he went to Jared Harlengin and told him he needed her really badly, that’s why. If Da Gama thinks he’s going to pull that one on me again, he’s sadly mistaken.”
“I’m not interested in working in Intelligence, Chief,” Kamuhi insisted.
“Come on, Lieutenant! You weren’t interested in working in Security either, but you’re here.” She leaned back in her chair. “You’re shaping up very nicely. That’s why I put you in for the promotion—that and Arneson was a Lieutenant. You’ve learned the systems, you know the staff, and you’ve even made Master Sergeant Quolund respect you, which isn’t an easy thing to do.”
“Thank you, Chief.”
She nodded. “Just take it easy on the practice floor. I could make Quolund ease up a little if you need me to?”
“I’m doing all right, Chief.”
“Still fighting one handed?”
Kamuhi nodded.
“Who are you paired with now?”
“Quolund.”
She grinned. “Finally made it to the top? Good; then he should let you use both hands pretty soon. An exercise like that can be valuable, in more ways than one, but no point in carrying it to excess.”
“Yes, Chief.”
“You should start looking at some of the other areas, too. Soong is great at gadgets. She can show you everything you need to know about remote listening as well as getting a door open without an invitation. Joranchh is our expert at the old fashioned kind of surveillance. Sometimes I think he knows how to make himself invisible.”
She smiled sagely at Kamuhi. “Don’t let Quolund keep you on the practice floor too much of the time. He tends to see everyone who comes through here in terms of how good they are at fighting. If you’re too good at that, he won’t want you to spend time on anything else.”
“I won’t, Chief.”
She shot him a piercing glance. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Something to do with Da Gama?”
Kamuhi was startled by her perception. He was beginning to understand her reputation. The staff was convinced she had eyes in the back of her head and telepathic abilities. Certainly she induced a healthy respect from everyone from the lowest private on up to Quolund. They weren’t exactly afraid of her, but they didn’t care to cross her, either.
“No, not really, Chief.”
“What precisely does ‘not really’ mean, Lieutenant?”
“Captain Da Gama was very taken with my linguistic ability and the fact that I can recount a recent conversation very accurately, word for word.”
Her eyes glittered like jewels. “He was, was he? I’ll have to speak to him about that.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “That’s all, Lieutenant.”
When Kamuhi went home that night, Yulayan was still a little upset by the old woman’s visit. Kamuhi told her about the conversation at the gate and exactly what the woman had said.
“I don’t like it, Kam,” Yulayan said. “It’s getting a little too strange. First it was my grandfather, and then the Disciples, and now this old woman. I’m getting scared.”
Kamuhi was reassuring. “I don’t know, sweetheart, it’s just a feeling, but I don’t think the old woman would hurt us any. She seemed very respectful of you as well as Malia.”
Yulayan wasn’t convinced, but she said no more about it.
The next night, Kifarao and Juoam were expected for dinner. Yulayan was busy cooking while Kamuhi was at work. When he came home, he changed out of his uniform and helped Malia to set the table. The little girl liked to help even though Kamuhi had to do everything over again once she had finished, because she had her own ideas on where everything should go.
When Kifarao and Juoam arrived with their son Paquain, Malia was delighted. She loved to have company close to her own age and she wanted to tell Paquain about the Disciples. The two children played well together. They were no trouble as their parents sat and talked.
“How are you doing as a qatraharai these days?” Kamuhi asked Kifarao.
“I had a performance last week at a patron’s house,” Kifarao said. “It was a small group but they seemed to enjoy themselves.”
“He did very well,” Juoam said proudly. “He has another prospect because of it. Another patron wants to talk to him tomorrow.”
Kifarao laughed. “I hope he’s a patron,” he corrected. He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of quascha.
