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Chapter 1
It was an ice world. Allyah studied the planet through the front viewer of the landing craft, trying to fit what she saw with the image in her mind. From the warm comfort of her vantage point high above the surface, it looked the same as in the holos, but the feeling was somehow different. Granden was a frozen wasteland, far from its yellow sun, with an axis that was nearly perpendicular to the solar ecliptic. Beneath the speeding lander, sparse, wispy cloud cover accentuated the glacial emptiness. Dark smudges of bare dirt and rock broke the whiteness where numerous volcanoes forced their hot heads through layers of snow and ice like thorns on a burr.
Dimly reflected in the viewscreen, she was a small, well-proportioned woman with short, tawny curls framing dark brown eyes in a heart-shaped face, forehead now creased slightly in a frown. What will it be like, living in that glacial vastness for the next two years? She shouldn't need to leave the Mishka's subterranean living areas very often, but, even with an environmental suit to protect her, she knew the cold bleakness on the surface would eventually creep into her soul like ice crystals around a lake. As they drew nearer, the brilliant white planet loomed dazzlingly stark, conveying an overwhelming sense of planetary mass and coldness.
She shuddered slightly and turned her attention toward the pilot, a tall, solidly built man in his thirties, with brown eyes and a thatch of unruly, auburn hair above a wide forehead. Intent on the controls, Jim Allen brought the ship closer to the surface with casual ease. Spending most of the voyage from the Galactic Capital in her cabin, she had enjoyed his sense of humor during the meals she shared with the crew. Although it was unequipped to handle passengers, the Galactic Military Scout Ship sometimes ferried government officials to remote solar systems. Looking back at the planet, Allyah wondered how soon she would be left alone on this desolate world.
"How far is the landing site?" she asked.
Allyah sat in the second pilot's position, lightly gripping the armrests and carefully keeping her hands away from the daunting array of instruments at her station. Machinery made her feel uncomfortable, out of control . . . nothing like the warm sense of satisfaction she got from dealing with intelligent beings. She watched with interest bordering on awe, as the pilot adjusted a knob, pressed several buttons in rapid sequence, and then smiled quickly at her before correcting other controls near his left hand.
Jim Allen pursed his lips, jerking his head up and to the left, indicating the horizon ahead of them. "It's on the other side. We'll use the same site Agent McKinley used when he landed, and, with any luck, he'll meet us there."
"Do you have any idea why he's been out of contact?" Despite McKinley's last messages, none of the officials Allyah had questioned believed that the previously peaceful inhabitants could have turned hostile. Whatever prevented McKinley from communicating must be something other than the Mishka. Everything she had learned about them—back at the Capital and on the trip out—clearly supported the premise that they were amiable and unthreatening.
"My guess is his communicator failed. I brought spare parts for it, just in case," Jim said.
Allyah was here to replace McKinley. She could have taken one of the joint assignments on a more hospitable world, even though that would have meant sharing accomplishments and successes with another ambassador. Was it possible she had made a mistake accepting this post? Smiling slightly, she admitted to herself that she would gladly suffer through more than this for the chance to deal with an alien culture on her own. She knew this assignment had been given to her because of the benign nature of the inhabitants, and, since she was the youngest Ambassador currently serving with the Interspecies Relationships Bureau, they must believe no one could screw this one up. She wasn't going to disappoint them—she might freeze to death with all that blasted snow and ice, but she definitely wasn't going to blow her first solo mission.
"Looks like a nasty place to get stuck in for two years, doesn't it?"
Allyah realized he had been watching her expression as she sat thinking. Meeting his gaze, she wondered if he suspected how unsure of herself she felt. "Each assignment has its challenges," she said, with a rueful grin at the frigid expanse, "but this one does look pretty bleak."
Laughing, Jim made another series of alterations on the console. "Well, don't worry about it too much. You probably won't be alone here for very long." He grimaced. "Last I heard, someone claimed to have found some mineral resources down there worth exploiting."
"Where did you hear that?" Allyah searched her memory of the documents she had seen for some hint of what he suggested. She couldn't remember any mention of mining operations.
He looked up quickly, almost guiltily. "Oh, you know how it is," he said, frowning, "you hear something in a bar, and then you hear something like it in the mess hall." He looked away, shrugging. "It's probably nothing, just a rumor." Allyah wondered why he had immediately discounted what he said. Before she could ask him what he meant, he pointed at the screen and said, with relief in his voice, "Hey, look. There's the landing site."
As Jim began the descent, she looked for some sign of a landing pad or strip. As they drew nearer to the surface, she recognized a few scattered mounds as the buildings the Mishka called shoodah. Jim switched the craft to hover mode, delicately lowering it onto a clear spot east of the mounds.
When they touched down, Allyah shivered again with mixed feelings of dismay and excitement. In every direction, ice and snow covered the land, with no trace of plant life anywhere. Far in the distance, both to the north and the south, the darkened tops of active volcanoes stood out sharply against the dusky blue skyline.
Allyah gazed out at the white world, allowing her excitement to build. Her dream of a successful diplomatic career—of leading emerging cultures into the peaceful multitude of Galactic Union worlds—was about to become a reality. Twelve long years of schooling and internship were behind her, and this was the first of many planets that would require all her training and resourcefulness. It was hers now.
"There's someone coming," Jim said, pointing toward a figure seeming to rise from the ground in front of one of the mounds. They watched as it moved toward them, quickly resolving into a human garbed in a Galactic Union environmental suit. Close fitting blue fabric covered the long, lean limbs of a tall man whose head and face were obscured by the flexible, black sunshield. As the man neared the lander, Jim opened the outer airlock door, inviting McKinley to enter.
Once inside the cabin, Garret McKinley unwrapped his scowling features from under the flexible headpiece and waited by the door. Allyah turned her crew seat at the console to face him, as Jim stepped forward with a smile, extending a hand that, after a slight hesitation, McKinley took, his mouth remaining in a hard, thin line.
"Welcome, Agent McKinley. I'm Lieutenant Jim Allen, Galactic Union Survey Service, and this is Ambassador Allyah Ahern, here to relieve you."
"It's nice to meet you," Allyah said, thinking how stupid that sounded here in the middle of galactic nowhere, with the three of them the only human representatives of the entire civilized galaxy. It would have been more appropriate to throw their arms around each other in a greeting of long lost brotherhood.
"You're late." McKinley's heavy brows crawled together above deep-set eyes. "I expected you three weeks ago."
Allyah revised her opinion about the hug.
"No," Jim said slowly, "we're right on schedule, as far as I know."
"I sent my last report two months ago. A week later I was told to expect a replacement in a month. I haven't heard anything since." McKinley's cold, gray eyes watched them. "I lost use of my communicator over five weeks ago, and I've been waiting since then."
Well, he had been waiting a long time, Allyah thought. She would probably be grumpy, too, if she were in his shoes.
"I'm really sorry you had to wait so long," she said, "but we're here now, and you can start phasing me into the culture. With a little extra effort, we can probably finish in about two weeks, so you can get back to civilization." She smiled encouragingly.
With eyes like chips of gray ice, McKinley looked at her. One . . . two . . . three heartbeats, before he turned away and faced Jim. "Allen, my gear is packed. I would appreciate it if you had your craft ready for departure as soon as I return." It was not a request. He placed the headpiece of the suit on his head, preparing to pull down the sunshield.
Allyah was stunned. His stare had held all the chill of this frigid world, cutting deep into her heart. What could possibly have made him despise her so completely?
Jim recovered before Allyah. "Hold on a minute, McKinley. Ambassador Ahern needs to be properly trained in the culture. You can't just walk out and drop her here by herself. She can't just go in unannounced."
"Why not? That's what I did." McKinley started to pull the facepiece down.
Jim stopped him. "I'm not taking you off this planet until you've done a proper turnover with Ambassador Ahern."
McKinley studied him, his expression a mixture of anger and a hint of amusement. His cold eyes didn't change, but his lips twisted in a frosty smile. "Oh, yes, I think you will, Lieutenant Allen. I have been evicted. I spent the last five weeks confined to that shoodah and now I am finally leaving Granden. I have to go back and get the rest of my gear, but the Mishka won't allow more than one human at a time on this planet, so I can't take her with me to give her a proper introduction."
He turned an icy stare on Allyah. "You have a decision to make, Ambassador. Will you remain here or return with us to the ship? But remember, once you enter the shoodah, if you try to return to the lander, the Mishka will lock you out of the building."
But why? Allyah's thoughts wailed. She knew the Mishka were harmless. What could suddenly cause them to be unfriendly? Aloud she said, "Agent McKinley, are you leaving your files with me, and are they in order?"
For an instant, anger flared in his eyes, then died. "Yes, Ambassador," he said mockingly, "my files are in perfect order. You'll find them in the shoodah. Oh, and, by the way, my communicator was deliberately disabled by the Mishka." He snapped the facepiece in place and stepped into the airlock, leaving Allyah's thoughts reeling. Maybe the Mishka really had turned hostile, but, recalling all she had seen in McKinley's reports, she couldn't believe it was true.
As soon as the lock closed, Jim rounded on her. "Are you crazy? You can't seriously consider staying after hearing that."
"Why ever not?" His vehemence surprised her.
"They kicked him out."
"Yes, but they have evidently agreed to have someone replace him," she said, adding darkly, "I think I would have kicked him out of my house, too."
"They disabled his communicator."
"We only have his word for that—I'm not so sure he wouldn't make it up out of spite." Allyah heard what she said and mentally kicked herself for lapsing into bitter rejoinders. Not ambassadorial, at all.
She took a deep breath. "Look, Lieutenant, we both know I have to stay. The Mishka haven't hurt anyone. If they didn't want to continue contact, they would have refused to accept an ambassador. For some reason, they don't want McKinley. I don't know what happened to make them reject him, but I intend to stay here and do my job." From the expression on Jim's face, she didn't think he agreed with her.
"Very well, Ambassador, it's your decision."
Yes, she thought, it is my decision . . . but I hope it's the right one.
"I'll need a communicator," she said. "Do you have one I can take with me? From what McKinley said, I'm not sure the Mishka will let you bring one back down from the cruiser."
"I can give you the lander's portable backup." Reluctantly, Jim went to find it, while Allyah moved to the back of the lander and opened the door to the storage hold. She began hauling out the gear she had brought with her, moving it to an open space near the airlock. There was a large crate of technical and electronic equipment with data chips, another of clothing and personal items, one with emergency rations and supplies, and a box of trade goods. Jim joined her, handing her the communicator before reaching to help her with a heavy box.
Except for her personal items, everything had been selected by the Ambassadorial Service based on the cultural profile of the planet. More than a hundred years before, a Galactic Union Survey Mission had discovered Granden and made the initial contact with the inhabitants. The Galactic Union Central Intelligence Bureau was responsible for ensuring that the indigenous life forms on newly discovered planets posed no threat to the Union. Only recently was CIB Agent Garret McKinley sent to the planet to determine the civilization level and to establish relations with the locals, with the unstated goal of finding out if they were potentially dangerous. Over the last two years, McKinley had sent back regular reports documenting the cultural and physical aspects of the primitives he called the "Mishka" based, he said, on the name they used almost exclusively for themselves—only rarely using what might be individual names.
After all the boxes had been moved, Jim stood frowning down at the huge pile, "I'll help you carry all this as soon as McKinley gets back."
"I don't think we had better take the chance. McKinley said the Mishka want only one human on the surface at a time."
She thought for a moment. "If you have some rope, we could tie it all together and I could drag it."
Jim shook his head doubtfully. "I have rope, but those boxes won't be easy to drag. What we need is a sled."
They both stared at the heap. After a moment, he went into the cargo hold and Allyah heard loud hammering. He emerged in a few minutes, triumphantly carrying a concave cargo hatch door.
"Don't you need that?" She knew he might have problems later for destroying government property, but it was perfect for carrying the heavy load.
"I can always requisition a replacement for a broken door." He grinned. "Don't worry about it."
By the time they heard McKinley's signal at the outer airlock, Allyah was ready to leave. When he entered, McKinley cast one disdainful look at the pile of gear roped on top of the hatch door and then moved to the storage hold with his own bags. He walked to a passenger seat and sat down, pointedly ignoring their efforts, as Allyah and Jim pulled and shoved the load toward the airlock.
Donning environmental suits, Jim and Allyah entered the airlock with the gear. Allyah couldn't see Jim's face through the sunshield to know how he was feeling, but then she felt better knowing he couldn't see how scared she was, either.
"Don't wait for me to get inside the shoodah before you take off." Allyah was surprised by her own calm, steady voice. "I want to see you leave—sort of a closure thing, you know?" She hoped he understood. If she never saw the lander take off, she would always feel their presence hovering outside. That wouldn't be good for making the adjustment to being the only human among aliens.
"All right." His voice was expressionless.
They stood in awkward silence while the airlock cycled. The outer door opened, and Allyah faced the crystal white world. Across the icy plain, there was no movement or sound. Only the nearby snow-covered buildings broke the lonely land. Taking a deep breath, she resolutely bent to push the load of gear down the landing ramp.
Jim stopped her with a hand on her arm, pointing to himself. "Put your suit communicator on private communications."
Surprised, she did as he asked.
"I don't know what you may be getting into—there's no way of knowing what kind of mess McKinley has left for you. If I don't hear from you in the next six hours, I'm coming back."
She started to protest, but he stopped her. "There are things going on that I can't tell you about, but believe me when I say that this assignment is more dangerous than you think."
"All right. I'll contact the ship when I get settled." She didn't understand his concern, but, if he was telling her it was dangerous, it must be extremely dangerous. She knew, even if she asked, he wouldn't tell her more than he already had, but his warning was enough to let her know she would have to be very careful, indeed. She could almost hear her "First Contact" professor, Val Rudeen, reciting the litany, "Cautious ambassadors become old ambassadors."
"Don't be late, or I'll be back to get you." His gruff words gave her a surprisingly warm sense of reassurance.
"Thank you, Jim," she said, reaching out and touching his arm. "I'll be extra careful."
He patted her hand briskly, their two environmental gloves only slightly muffling the sense of contact. "Now, let's get you moving." He bent to give the makeshift sled a solid shove toward the ramp.
They soon had the gear pushed over the threshold, and, with a last mighty heave, it slid down the incline and out across the ice toward the shoodah, finally coming to rest fifty yards from the lander.
"Hey, look at that thing go," Jim laughed.
"That's a relief. I didn't know for sure if I could pull it by myself." She laughed, too. "I guess this ice is good for something after all." Turning, she put out her hand. "I want to thank you for everything, Lieutenant. You've been more help than I can ever tell you."
He took her hand in both of his. The smile she heard in his voice was invisible behind the darkened facepiece. "Ambassador, if you ever need help, call the Scout Service office and leave a message for me. I'll tell them to immediately forward anything from you." She knew this wasn't a casual offer.
"I'm very grateful, but I really hope that won't be necessary."
"Me, too," he said.
She walked down the ramp and out across the ice to the load of gear. She adjusted the drag ropes across her shoulders to a comfortable position and then waved at Jim in the airlock doorway. He waved back, and she began dragging the huge load toward the shoodah. It was cumbersome, but, with the supertraction surfaces of her footgear, it slid well as she moved slowly across the slippery ice and snow.
When she heard the landing craft engines start, Allyah stopped and turned to watch. The hover exhaust sent flurries of snow swirling out from the soft drifts created when they landed. As the silvery craft slowly rose out of the surrounding whiteness into the powdery blue sky, an empty place grew inside her stomach. With the roar of the engines slowly fading with distance, her throat tightened until it hurt. She felt childish and silly when her eyes filled with tears, but she couldn't seem to stop crying as the lander dwindled out of sight.
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