Cats in Space and Other Places by Bill Fawcett (the first e reader txt) 📕

fierce crump and click as, quite likely, her teeth met in whatever she had been chasing. I heard dragging sounds, an explosive grunt from her and then, for an unnervingly long period, only the slip-slid of her quiet feet as she returned to Fildin Escobat's dwelling.

"Fardles! How'd you get that? Where did you get that? Oh, fardles, let me grab it before someone sees the effing thing."

"You asked for red meat, did you not?" Ghra's voice was smooth.

"Not a whole fardling beast. Where can I hide it?"

"I thought you wanted to eat it."

"I can't eat a whole one."

"Then I'll help!"

"NO!" Fildin's desperate reply ended in a gasp as he realized that he had inadvertently raised his voice above the hoarse whisper in which most of his conversation had been conducted. "We'll be heard by the neighbors. Can't we talk somewhere else?"

"After curfew? Stand back from the window."

"No, no, no, ohhh," and the difference in the sound I now received told me that Ghra had probably jumped through the window, right into his quarters.

"Don't put it down. It'll bloody the floor. What am I going to do with all this meat." There was both pleasure and dismay at such largesse.

"Cook what you need then." Ghra was indifferent to his problem, having rendered the requested payment. "Now, what can you report?"

"Huh? Oh, well," and this had patently been an easier task than accepting his reward, and he rolled off the quantities and types of spacecraft he had seen. I started taping his report at that juncture.

"No further indication of when the new craft are due in?" Ghra asked.

"No. Nothing. I did ask. Carefully, you know. I know a couple of guys who're menials in the port but all they knew was that something was due in."

"Supply ships?"

"Nah! Don't you know that the Khalia make their subject planets support 'em? They live well here, those fregmekking Weasels. And we get sweetdamall."

"You'll eat well tonight and for a time, Friend Fildin. And there's no chance that it's troop carriers?"

"How'd I know? There're already more Khalia on this planet than people."

Bethesda was a large, virtually unpopulated planet and Alliance High Command had never figured out why the Khalia had suddenly invaded it. Their assault on Bethesda had been as unexpected as it had been quick. Then no more Khalian activity in the area, though there were several habitable but unoccupied planets in nearby systems. High Command was certain that the Khalia intended to increase their dominance in the ASD Sector, eventually invading the three richly endowed Alliance planets; Persuasion for its supplies of copper, vanadium and the now precious, germanium; Persepolis for its inexhaustible marine protein (the Khalia consumed astonishing quantities of sea creatures, preferably raw, a fact which had made their invasion of Bethesda, a relatively "dry" world, all the more unexpected.)

To send a convoy of this size was unusual in every respect. High Command hoped that the Khalia would not believe the Alliance capable of risking so many ships, materiel and personnel. Admiral Eberhard was staking his career on taking that risk, plus the very clever use of the gravity wells of the nearby star ASD 836/932 and Persuasion to reduce velocity, cutting down the time in "normal space" when the convoy's light ripple cone" was so detectable.

Those fregmekking Khalia had been enjoying such a run of good luck! It'd better start going our way soon. Maybe Bethesda would come up on our side of the ledger.

I had screened Het's sector map, trying to figure out from which direction the Khalia might be sending in reinforcements of whatever. If they came through the ASD grid, they'd bisect the emission trail. That was all too likely as they controlled a good portion of the space beyond. But I didn't have more charts, nor any updated information on Khalian movements. The Gormenghast would. It was now imperative for the Admiral to know about those incoming spacecraft. Ghra was as quick.

"It would be good to know where those ships were coming from," Ghra told Fildin. "Or why they were landing here at all. There seem to be enough ships on hand for immediate defense, and surveillance."

"How the fardles would I know? And effing sure I can't find out, not a lowly sweeper like me. I done what I said I'd do, exactly what you asked. I can't do more."

"No, I quite perceive that, Fildin Escobat, but you've been more than helpful. Enjoy your meat!"

"Hey, come back . . ."

Fildin's voice dropped away from the com button although I heard no sounds of Ghra's physical exertion. I waited until she would be out of hearing.

"Ghra? Can you safely talk?"

"Yes," she replied, and then I could hear the slight noise of her feet and knew she was loping along.

"What're you up to?"

"What makes you think I'm up to anything?"

"Let's call it an educated guess."

"Then guess." Amusement rippled through her suggestion.

"To the spaceport to see if you can find out where those spaceships are coming from."

"Got it in one."

"Ghra? That's dangerous, foolhardy and quite likely it's putting your life on the line."

"One life is nothing if it saves the convoy."

"Heroic of you, but it could also blow the game."

"I don't think so. There's been a program of infiltrations on any Khalian base we could penetrate. Why make Bethesda an exception? Don't worry, Bil. It'll be simple if I can get into place now in the bad light."

"Good theory but impractical," I replied sourly. "No trees, bushes or vegetation around that spaceport."

"But rather a lot of old craters . . ."

"You are not crater-colored . . ."

"Enticing mounds of supplies, and some unused repair hangars."

"Or," I began in a reasonable tone, "we can get out of here, go into a lunar orbit and keep our eyes peeled. All I'd need is enough time to send a squeal and the Admiral will know."

"Now who's heroic? And not very practical. We're not supposed to be sighted. And we're to try and keep the convoy from being discovered. I think I know how. Besides, Bil, this mission has several