Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [49]
“I expect you’ll have plenty of customers from now on, Captain Kett. What you’re doing here will become the stuff of legend,” Davlin said. “And I’d prefer you got the benefit of it, so I can keep my name quiet.”
“So, who says I want to be stuck with all the cheering and adoration? You’re a hero, Davlin.”
“I am a specialist in obscure details. Publicity would cramp my style.”
Rlinda maintained her smile. He was clearly embarrassed by the gratitude they showered upon him, but she thought he also secretly enjoyed it. She had seen him walk among his fellow colonists, and she knew how much he cared for them. His cool aloofness was a well-practiced act.
Davlin had flown a small craft with very little fuel and barely managed to reach Relleker, where he had argued unsuccessfully with Governor Pekar to help with a rescue. Despite his pleas, only Rlinda and Branson “BeBob” Roberts had come to Crenna’s aid.
Now, when the two crowded ships approached the Relleker spaceport, the local government greeted them with little kindness or enthusiasm. A frantic-sounding traffic control officer insisted that both ships file landing-request forms and gain approvals before they delivered so many “unspecified immigrants.” But Rlinda ignored the Relleker officer, signing off with a bright “Thanks for your help. See you in a few minutes.”
Governor Jane Pekar and her coterie of bureaucrats and assistants rushed to where the Curiosity and the Faith landed. Stepping out, Rlinda held up her hands, as if she saw a brass band and a happy celebration to welcome them. She opened the cargo doors, and a wave of Crenna escapees stumbled out. The smiling men and women gulped deep breaths and looked up at the sun, as if to reassure themselves. With breathing room again, friends clapped each other on the back and hugged, dancing around on the smooth pavement blocks.
Seeing the crowd, Rlinda was amazed that so many people had actually fit into her ship. They had come aboard a few at a time, and now they were all together in a single group. It did seem quite intimidating.
Governor Pekar strode up to her. “You can’t bring all these people here, Captain Kett. We have neither the facilities nor the resources for such a population influx. Ours is a colony on the edge of survival itself—”
“You’ll do what you can, Governor.” Davlin stepped out beside Rlinda and met the governor with a stony glare. “It is, of course, your humanitarian duty, as specified in the Hansa Charter, which your colony signed.”
Jane Pekar was in her fifties, and her attempts to look younger and more vital had achieved the opposite effect. Her close-cropped bleached-yellow hair and deep tan looked decidedly artificial and too healthy to be real. Her eyes were a sapphire blue—cosmetic lenses?—and the frown looked as if it had been chiseled onto her lips with a blunt instrument. She watched with dismay as people kept streaming out of the two ships.
BeBob strutted over from the Blind Faith, put his arm around Rlinda’s broad shoulder and squeezed. Her favorite ex-husband was looking a bit scrawnier than usual, but he still felt very good against her. She leaned into his hug, nearly knocking him off balance.
“Whew, I never thought I’d breathe fresh air again,” he said. “It was getting a little rank on board. Just what you’d expect, I suppose, from all those sweaty and nervous people.” BeBob glanced at the governor and all her attendants and functionaries. “Um, have you asked if they can set up showers for everybody? I could use a rinse-off myself.”
“You sure could.” Rlinda turned to Pekar and raised her voice. “Considering Relleker’s tight situation, it’s not necessary to throw an elaborate feast for us, Governor. But a good warm meal would be nice.”
Pekar looked in angry consternation at all the refugees. And they kept coming. Four more exuberant men and women emerged from the Blind Faith.
“We can provide minimal facilities and amenities,” the governor grumbled. “I’ll give you an hour to stretch