Return to Earth by H M Hoover

Author:H M Hoover
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 1980-03-26T05:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

“Turn off the light! You’re blinding us!” Samara’s voice and attitude implied her unannounced midnight arrival in an unidentified and disreputable craft was unremarkable. She stood with her arm raised to shield her eyes against the glare. If they had lost the gamble and Summer House was occupied by enemies, there was no point in waiting any longer to find that out. “Turn it off!” she repeated, and wondered if they would be shot.

“It’s her!” There was a muttered conference, and the spotlight went out. Beside her Galen breathed a big sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry,” the security man apologized as he ran toward them, “there was nothing on radar—we thought . . . .”

“Has there been any trouble here?”

“No, ma’am.” He sounded puzzled.

Some of the fear left her. “Good. Turn off the field lights and then wake Captain Marsh. Tell him to meet me in the study in an hour.”

“He’s not here. You called him into the city yesterday . . . is something wrong?”

She tried to think what that meant. Marsh was the head of Summer House security. “Has anyone else been called away?”

“Two members of the house staff—they went to Government House too.”

“At my orders?”

He paused. “So I understood . . . I’m sorry I challenged you. I was just doing my job.”

“And very well too, Mr. Buko.”

The spots were clearing from her eyes; she could see the house again. “Galen? Ask our pilot if he needs any spare parts our maintenance shop might have. Mr. Buko can get them for you. I’ll be right back.”

In the dark the garden smelled and felt so familiar that it seemed to her she had never left the place, that none of the past ten days had happened and she was still safe here in this verdant world. The guard bowed as always when she came running up the steps, and the door slid open. Nothing had changed.

It took her only minutes to collect the things she wanted; for their nurse—tubes of shampoo, lemon scented; the best new hairbrush she could find; a topaz ring; and a box inlaid with abalone, old and very precious. For Yani a gold chain, for Damon a fine guitar and a toy dog that would dance and bark forever on its solar battery. She gathered it all up in a sheet and ran back to the landing pad.

Only a pole light by the hangar was on now. She could see Galen leaning against Damon’s ancient aircar, talking. Two guards stood nearby, studying the craft, their expressions disapproving. Damon sat with his arm raised, impatient to lower the hood and take off.

“Here she is now,” she heard Galen say, in a voice meant to encourage a reluctant child. “A minute more and you can leave.”

The boy barely listened to Samara’s explanations of the gifts, and as soon as she paused he said, “That is very kind. I want to go home now.”

He pulled the hood down with a slam. Warm air shot out across their legs, and they turned away from the exhaust as the aircar lifted.

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