Unfamiliar Territory

Just how should he regard the Harimi? Worthington wondered that even as he started to address the orange-skinned male creature on the planet's surface far below the orbiting flagship. He said, "Organizer, did the shuttle crash from accidental causes, or do you believe that someone on Sacorra 6 is responsible?"

"We cannot know the cause of its crash until we have located the shuttle, Captain." The Harimi organizer inclined his head calmly, and beside him his female counterpart did likewise. "However, we have no reason to believe that any of our citizens at Second Colony would have wished the Admiral harm."

"Not even if someone down there thought her report might come out with a negative recommendation?" Worthington kept his growing annoyance inside him for the moment, both because it wouldn't do to antagonize the Harimi if he wanted to get any relevant information out of them-and because he knew that most of his anger should quite properly be self-directed. If only he had put his foot down and insisted that Renata use one of their own shuttles, with her coxswain at its controls, instead of going along with their hosts' declaration that only Harimi pilots were allowed to fly in-atmosphere craft on Harimi worlds! That piece of sky-junk might have been state-of-the-art for local technology, but he damned himself roundly now for keeping silent when his temporary commanding officer had agreed to board the thing at all-let alone ride it from the main Harimi colony on Sacorra 5, all the way to land at their secondary colony on neighboring Sacorra 6.

And no shuttle of any vintage or origin would have dared to crash if Thor MacKenzie had been at its controls-but it was too late for second-guessing now. Since one of Sacorra 6's charms was a natural dissimulation effect which made it impossible for starship sensors to get anything except background readings while scanning its surface, Worthington's task now was to persuade the Harimi to let him send out shuttles and search that world at low altitudes-visually, if that was what it took-until the admiral was found.

He wasn't going to get that kind of cooperation by accusing and antagonizing, so for now at least he must keep his anger to himself. And his suspicions, as well, since he'd already voiced them once and had been told they were groundless.

Colby woke to daylight. Not the gray dawn that she had somehow expected, but to bright yellow sunlight that sparkled on the ground outside the ruined fuselage that still sheltered her. Sparkled on it, because that ground was covered with a thin layer of pure white snow.

Already it was melting, already the temperature was rising. She was thankful for that, because she wasn't looking forward to having to crawl out of the warm nest of blankets and expose her body and her companion's to the air.

Would he wake up when the cold hit his bare skin, or was he really still unconscious and not just asleep? She was looking into MacKenzie's face and trying to decide whether to attempt waking him, or slip away and let nature take its course, when she heard sounds from outside the shuttle's wreck.

Wonderful, I always wanted to get caught bundling with a handsome kid not much more than half my age! she thought sardonically, and slid out of the blankets and reached for her outer clothing. Her uniform was still damp from the stream, so pulling it on required determination; but she managed to do so, while inside the warm cocoon she'd left Thor MacKenzie stirred and muttered unhappily but didn't wake completely.

There, now she could face a rescue party. Colby ducked out from under the half-crushed hull, and stood immediately so that she would be visible. She didn't want someone getting trigger-happy in an isolated spot on an alien world and thinking the noise and movement she created might be a threat. Worthington's people were well trained, but reflexes could be overpowering things under certain conditions.