Doctor Who_ The Paradise of Death - Barry Letts [76]
‘What’s got into you today?’
‘I’ve got a sore head, I need a drink and I’m missing my wife. Next question?’
The vehemence in his voice made a number of nearby heads turn from their task of monitoring the multitudinous Parakonian transmissions and communication links.
‘Cool down,’ said Rance. ‘I’ll take over until he comes.’
Taking Medan’s place, he lifted the headset. ‘Anything to report?’ he said.
‘Not a lot. Spot of interference in the ER matrix. Right in the middle of the Lackan.’
‘God help us, not another hunt?’
‘No, there’s no transmission, just a --’ Medan stopped and nodded towards the screen. ‘There it is again.’
Rance recognized the trace immediately. ‘That’s the direction finder. It must be Onya with a new bunch of guests.’
‘We’ll run out of huts the way she’s going on,’ said Medan, sloping off towards the drinks.
What a miserable son of a Pivlon hog! Did nothing ever make him happy? Still, thought Rance, remembering his earlier thoughts, in a way he was right. The settlement was getting uncontrollable. If it got any bigger --His thoughts were interrupted by Medan’s raised voice from halfway down the hut uttering threats, seemingly ignored by their intended target.
It was Ungar arriving at last, unshaven and bleary.
Rance relinquished the chair. ‘It’s not good enough, you know. If we don’t all pull our weight – ’
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry, right? I’m just a few minutes late, that’s all. I haven’t killed the sacred pig or something.’
‘Well, get on with it. Keep an eye on that frequency, and stay awake this time.’
Better let Kaido know that their precious Mamonya was on her way, thought Rance. He wondered yet again how it could be that Onya was regarded as the ritual mother of the Kimonyan tribe. Then again, what did it matter? It served its purpose. He noticed as he passed that Medan was already downing his second drink.
As he crossed the bridge, he became aware of an air of excitement in the Kimonyan village. Little groups of people were talking loudly, waving their hands in the air.
There was a lot of laughter. Others were running from hut to hut, as if carrying great news.
A small bunch had clustered round the slightly taller figure of Kaido, who was as clearly delighted as the rest.
He seemed to be issuing instructions.
‘Kaido!’ called Rance. ‘What’s going on?’
Kaido turned, his small brown face beaming, and said in his deep voice, ‘Big feast tonight. We are killing our fattest deer. Mamonya’s coming!’
With a polite smile and nod, he turned back.
‘I’ll never get to the bottom of these people,’ said Haban Rance to himself. ‘How the hell did he know that?’
The Brigadier was doing his best to disguise his panting as controlled deep breathing. He was a little taken aback to discover how out of condition he was. Now that they had traversed the main part of the forest and had started a fairly stiff climb up the barer hillside, the strong steady pace Onya had been setting since lunchtime was proving somewhat hard, especially on the thigh muscles.
He made a mental resolution that when they got back home – if they ever did; a problematical proposition at best
– he would resume the morning jog which had served him so well in the past.
Apart from anything else, he had to set a good example to the men. Even in the present bizarre situation, he could hardly cry ‘pax’ before the boy did; and he seemed to have settled down into a sullen trudge that could go on for miles.
‘Ouch!’ said Jeremy, nearly falling over.
‘Now what?’ said the Brigadier.
‘Twisted my ankle.’
‘Well, for Heaven’s sake be more careful. We don’t want to have to carry you.’
‘Not my fault. It’s all these rocks. I can’t keep up and look where I’m going.’
The others were disappearing into a small thicket.
‘Hang on a minute!’ called the Brigadier. He was quite glad of the excuse, to tell the truth. ‘All right?’ he said to Jeremy, who was wiggling his foot experimentally.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Onya when they caught up. ‘I’m apt to forget what it used to be like. I’ll slow down a bit.’
‘So your training was physical