Green, Sharon - Warrior Within

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* 1

The infernal banging had no trouble breaking through my sleep. I wrapped the

pillow around my head and that drowned out most of it, but as soon as I drifted

off to sleep again my grip loosened, and the pillow was pushed aside by the din.

"Fatherless son of a female trajg!" I snarled in Baldochi, struggling out of the

covers and to my feet. I didn't know what time it was, but as far as I'm concerned,

a racket like that is a challenge day or night. I made it out of my bedroom and

down the ramp to the first floor, then headed for the front door.

I caught a glimpse of myself as I passed the hall mirror, and would have turned

back if I hadn't been in such a foul humor. My hair, unfashionably long and unf

ashionably dark brown, was hanging every which way, including over my eyes.

My yellow sleep suit was brief enough to earn me a ci-tation from any peaceman

alive, and I wasn't even wearing any makeup. All in all a pretty outrageous sight,

but I didn't give a damn. I'd needed the sleep I'd lost, and somebody was going to

pay for it.

I was out into the sunshine before I realized it was there, and I had to squeeze my

eyes nearly shut to keep from being blinded. The banging started again from my

left, and I knew I'd been right. Sandy Kemper was at it again, but this time he

wasn't going to get away with it. Tinkering belongs in the privacy of your

workshop, not in the public nervous system.

With my eyes opened to mere slits, I stalked through the bright, windless sunshine

across the grass to the verge of

Sandy's landing circle. Sandy was there, in a dark green one-

piece, leaning into the guts of his deep blue quadriwagon,

^and the banging was coming from the inside of the access

breach. I was vaguely, aware of someone or something

stretched out under a nearby tree, but I paid no attention.

Sandy was my target, and a very tempting target he made.

I stopped about a foot away from him, dutifully restraining^ myself as I called out

his name, but the noise he was making drowned me out. I shrugged a little with

what I knew was an evil grin, stepped a bit closer, then booted him in the behind

with my bare right foot

The banging stopped with a muffled, "Hey!" then there was a hollow-sounding

clank, followed by Sandy twisting himself out of the quadriwagon. He

straightened up with one hand on his bead and a pained expression on his lace,

but he went wide-eyed at the sight of me.

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* 1

"Terry," he said weakly and for some reason nervously. "What are you doing

here?"

"I heard your summons so I came right over," I answered, folding my arms. "Or

maybe I was mistaken and it was sup-posed to be a mating call. I've never heard

the mating call of a quadriwagon."

"It won't envelop," he explained apologetically, gesturing vaguely toward the

'wagon. "What good is a quadriwagon that won't envelop?"

"What good indeed," I agreed pleasantly. "All you can do with it then is take

ground trips. Long, distant ground trips. Why the hell don't you try it!"

He flinched a little at my almost-shrill roar, then pushed his palms placatingly at

me. "Now, Terry, no need to lose your temper." I had no idea you were home yet,

or I would have. ..."

"Well, now you know!" I snapped. "It isn't bad enough that I had to spend four

months straightening out that mess in Dremmler's sector, just to get back in time

for the Nervous Nellies' Annual Hysterics and Fit-Throwing Convention. Oh, no!

After fourteen solid hours of diplomatically assuring ev-ery neurotic xenophobe

on the planet that we are not in im-minent danger of being invaded by the nearest

alien barbarian horde, I really needed your symphonic, rendition of 'When Worlds

Collide'! Sandy, you may be a colleague of sorts, but so help me if I hear even

one more tinkle out of

THE WARRIOR WITHIN 7

you, I'll call the peacemen and activate an action against you for fire, flood,

pestilence and rape! Do you read me?"

"Loud and clear," he groaned, covering his eyes with one hand. "Very, very loud

and perfectly clear."

"You'd better," I told him fatly. "Your XD-5 rating will be as worthless as that

quadriwagon if / press charges. Just remember that."

I gave his tall, thin form a last glare, turned to go back to my house, and promptly

bounced off a brick wall instead. I "oofed" and went down, my hair obligingly

covering my en-tire face.

"Terry, are you all right?" Sandy asked anxiously as I pawed the hair out of my

eyes. He reached down fast to help me to my feet, but I ignored his outstretched

hands in favor of the brick wall Pd collided with.

The man who stbod there looked ten feet tall from where I sat hi the grass. He also

seemed about six feet wide, and ev-• ery inch of his deeply tanned body was hard-

muscled and trim. He had brilliant, light blue eyes, a mane of thick, light blond,

hair, and a grin pasted on his broad, rugged face. He stood easily relaxed with his

brawny arms folded across his enormous chest, and all he wore was a pair of brief,

dark gray swim trunks. I frowned as I looked at him, seeing some-thing very out-

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* 1

of-place about him, there in the suburbs ,of Tallion City. For some reason, he did

not belong.

"Here, let me help you up." Sandy fidgeted next to me, but Fd already decided to

try out a theory that had just to me. I raised my knees a little and leaned on them

with my forearms, then smiled sweetly at Sandy.

"I think I'll add assault to that list of charges," I told him, and watched his face go

pasty yellow. "Who's your co-assailant?"

"Terry, please be reasonable," Sandy begged, beads of sweat forming on his

forehead. "This is just a friend of mine from Ashton who's visiting me for a week

or two. You don't really want to make trouble for him, do you?"

"Why not? I asked mildly. "What's his name?"

"It's—ah—Fred. Fred O'Herlihy," Sandy stuttered. "Fred O'Herlihy from

Overton."

"I thought he was from Ashton," I commented, staring at a Sandy who looked

like he was about to faint.

"That's right, that's right, Ashton. Hie moved from Overton to Ashton."

8 sharon green

"Or vice versa," I said disgustedly and got to my feet unaided. "Sandy, who do

you think you're kidding? That story wouldn't have got past a retarded seven-year-

old, let alone a Prime XenoMediator, Come on, now, give. Who is he -and what's

he doing here?"

"I can't tell you," Sandy said in agony, just about wringing his hands. "Terry,

please. Just go back to your house and for-get all about this. You have my word

that I won't make an-other sound.'*

"1'H bet you won't," I drawled, staring at "Fred O'Herlihy." Good old Fred still

looked ten feet tall, but his grin had widened. "Sandy, I have a hunch that

Murdock McKenzie has another lark going. How's my hunch quo-tient?"

"As high as ever," Sandy acknowledged miserably, his shoulders sagging, 'I'm

sorry, Terry, but I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to come into my house. Murdock

will want to know about this."

"Not as much as Jack will want to." I grinned. "I can't wait to see the fur flying

between those two again. This time Murdock will lose Ms ears. Let's see whose

call gets through first."

I started back toward my house again, gleefully eager to pass on the word, and

half-heard Sandy say something like, Tammad!" It meant absolutely nothing to

me, so I ignored it, but three steps later I got a very strong hint about what it

might mean. A giant hand covered half my upper arm, and I was pulled definitely

and firmly to a halt,

"Let go of my arm, Fred," I said in exasperation to the still grinning giant. "I have

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* 1

a top-priority call waiting to be made, and you're wasting my tune."

"Terry, you must understand," Sandy said pitiabjx,as he came up. "Murdock is

depending on me and rcan't let him down. You can can Jack after Murdock

speaks to him, but you can't call Jack first"

"Oh, can't I?" I asked, tapping a bare foot in the grass, 'la case you didnt know,

Sandy, harboring an unregistered alien, Is against the law on this planet For a

member of the Xeno-Diplomacy Bureau to do it—on orders, yet!—is even worse,

but the real kicker is the nature of the alien in question. I 4aje you to deny that

whatever planet he comes from, he's of the warrior-equivalent caste. Go ahead,

deny it!"

Sandy's long jaw dropped, and the look in his eyes was al-

THE WARRIOR WITHIN 9

most wild. "How can you possibly know all these things?" he demanded in near

hysteria. "I can almost believe some of the rumors that are whispered about Prime

XenoMediators. Terry, are you a telepath, too?"

"Don't be ridiculous" I snorted. "It isn't telepathy when you use your eyes and

head. Sandy, you're already in over your ears. Do yourself a favor and tell him to

let me go."

"I can't," he agonized. "I must call Murdock. Tammad, bring her along to the

house, please."

Sandy hurried on ahead, and his pal Tammad followed lei-surely after him. Since

I was still firmly attached to the giant's hand, I ended up going in that direction,

too. The lawn stretched out quiet and green from house to house as far as I could

see, but there wasn't a single person in view on it anywhere. That lack made me

decide on a course of action I normally would never even have considered.

"Peacemen!" I shouted at the Neighborhood ia general, trying to be loud enough

to be heard. "Somebody call a— mmf!"

My yell cut off when the giant's hand slid firmly across my mouth and stayed

there. I struggled against him, trying to pull Ms hand away with both of mine, but

it was a waste of time. I'm slightly above average in height, but my head didn't

even reach his chin. With his right hand over my mouth, he reached his left arm

around my waist and lifted me off the ground, then continued on toward Sandy's

house.

The trip ended in Sandy's inner study. The room was as flat and unimaginative as

Sandy himself, done in various shades of brown and tan. It had a long, wide

couch of dark brown leather against the back wall, four lighter brown leather

chairs scattered here and there across the tan carpet-ing, a very neat and totally

outdated light brown rembowood desk and chair on the wall to the left of the

door, and matching floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on the wall to the right of the

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* 1

door. Brown and tan woodland scenes set in limited-frame movement squares

hung on the walls above the couch and desk, but none of that was of any help to

me. I'd been beating my heels against Tammad's right leg, hoping to make him

shift his grip and thereby give me a chance to break loose, but I'd had no luck.

Tammad ignored the kicks as if they were happening to somebody else, carried

me down the hall and into the study, finally dumping me on the room's wide

couch. I landed on my hands and knees on the soft

10 season green

leather pillows, and took a minute to flex my jaw before sit-ting straight Tammad

was in an easy crouch not three feet away from me, his arms resting on his broad

thighs, the same idiotic grin on his face,

"The next time you try that you'll lose a finger," I snarled, pushing my hair back

out of my eyes. "And what the hell are you staring at?"

"You," he answered in a deep, strong, voice that matched the rest of him. "The

thought has come that should you brush. your hair, you would not be

unattractive."

"You can't afford to talk," I countered, pulling my hand away from my hair.

"Your hair looks like it was hacked off with a knife. And unless I'm mistaken,

that's a nice, thick Rimilian accent you've got there. What are you doing so'faf

from home?"

"Green eyes," he mused, ignoring my question as he looked me over in a way I'd

never experienced before. "Such eyes are highly prized on my world. Most have

eyes like mine, blue as the skies when no storms blow, but some very few have

eyes green as the seas. I am pleased to see a woman with green eyes."

That insolent grin was getting me angrier and angrier, and his attitude wasn't

doing much to help matters, so I decided to see how easily he might be reached,

"L'lenda banarad," I told him distinctly and watched as his blue eyes hardened

wife anger, then immediately changed back with his laughter.

"You place me well." He grinned In amusement. "I am indeed l'lenda—a warrior.

But it is not wise to order a war-rior not to overstep himself unless you carry

sword in hand. I do not believe you could easily lift a sword."

"I'm stronger than I look," I said, eyeing the still open door. The inner study

didn't have a window, but it did have that nice, opea door. "Now why, I wonder,

would Murdock McKenzie be hiding a Rimilian barbarian here?" I mused,

shifting slightly to get my legs out from under me. "Because he plans on doing

something with you? But why, then, doesn't he do it? Possibly because the time

isn't right Does he have to wait for something? Do you know what Murdock is

waiting for, l'lenda? Or is he just using you, as a poor, helpless pawn? Poor

barbarian, being used by others."

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*1*1Theinfernalbanginghadnotroublebreakingthroughmysleep.Iwrapped\thepillowaroundmyheadandthatdrownedoutmostofit,butassoonasI\driftedofftosleepagainmygriploosened,andthepillowwaspushedasideby\thedin."Fatherlesssonofafemaletrajg!"IsnarledinBaldochi,strugglingou\tofthecoversandtomyfeet.Ididn'tknowwhat...

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Green, Sharon - Warrior Within

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