A World for the Taking Ch. 01

"I know a lot of places we can run off to," he said. "Places not marked on maps. Places we can defend."

"Defend?" she asked. "I don't want anyone to get hurt. I don't want you or..."

Tears flooded into her eyes and she shot forward to wrap her slim, strong arms around the barrel of her father's chest. Bob enfolded her in a hug and kissed the top of her head between her ears. She wept uncontrollably for a full minute before she finally got a hold of her emotions.

"It's okay, Fuzzybutt," Bob whispered, rocking her gently. "I've got you. We aren't going to let them take you."

"Oh Daddy," she sobbed. "You and Mama... I... No... You can't get hurt because of me!"

"Calm down, baby," he said softly, still rocking her back and forth. "It hasn't come to that yet."

"But it might!" she wept.

"It might," he admitted. "But it hasn't."

They were interrupted by the sound of a flyer coming in for a landing. Bob stiffened and his eyes snapped to the barn door. Gently but firmly he pushed his daughter back and reached for the rifle in the boot strapped to his saddle. It was a Johnson Big Bore 12mm. He used it every year to cull the herd of wild boar that lived down the valley and once he had to put down a grizzly bear that had begun marauding the station houses in the upper valley. The rifle was powerful enough to take out any of the flyers on the planet.

"Stay here," he told Tammy. "Tighten up the cinches. If something happens, take Temper and run for Kelvin Ridge. There's food in the pack and a spare pistol in the saddlebags."

"But Papa!" Tammy protested.

"Just do it!" he snapped and went to the door.

The flyer was coming down slowly in the station yard, scattering chickens and turkeys. The markings along the side of the dark blue hull told Bob it was an official vehicle. He could see, though, that there was only one person aboard and when the dust blew away he recognized Mary Horne, the planetary representative of Tyne & Harper, Inc.

Bob remained in the doorway, but noted that the window on the second story above the front door of the house was open and someone was hovering back in the shadows. Probably Mike. The front door of the house opened and Deborah stepped onto the porch carrying her own Johnson Big Bore couched not quite casually in the crook of her arm.

The canopy of the flyer slid back. Mary Horne stood and raised her hands palms outward.

"I'm not looking for trouble," she said in a quavering tone that suggested they had frightened her. Mary was a slim woman in her late forties with long auburn hair beginning to silver. "Bob, Deborah, I just came to talk."

"Anyone else coming?" Bob demanded coolly.

"Just me," Mary said. "This isn't official. It's just me talking to you."

Deborah looked to Bob. He frowned and glanced at the sky. No evidence there were any other flyers around, but the small ships with their null-G vanes could cruise or hover just above the trees or even hide behind the taller ones.

"Say your piece," he said.

"Bob, I saw the news dispatch," Mary said. "Look, can you two put those guns down? I'm not looking for trouble. It really is just me."

"Say your piece, Mary," Bob said more sternly.

"Damn it, Bob!" she grumbled. "I'm not here for Tammy. Hell, she plays softball with my daughter for crying out loud! You think I want to hurt her?"

Bob cocked his head and waited.

"I'm not even armed!" she snapped. "You two are scaring me. How many times have we had coffee together? We got drunk last year at Alex's and June's wedding. I'm not here for Tammy. I just want to talk."

"So talk!" snapped Deborah, stepping to the edge of the porch and moving her rifle to port arms. "Why didn't you call ahead to let us know you were coming?"

"Because I wanted to keep it off the net," Mary said. She bit her lip and looked back and forth between the husband and wife. "I don't want anyone involved with the company to be reminded Tammy is here. You know all transmissions are logged."

That was true. That was why Deborah had not sent the news article to Bob while he was out on his inspection.

"Come on now," Mary said coaxingly. "Let's just talk."

Bob looked to Deborah questioningly. She glanced at him and then edged back to the open front door.

"Jean," she called inside without taking her eyes from Mary. "See any flyers nearby?"

"Nothing on the scopes, Ma," the girl called from within.

Deborah looked at Bob and gave a nod.

"Alright," he said to Mary. "Come on out of there and go to the kitchen. I'll be there in a minute."

He remained in the doorway of the barn until Mary had disappeared inside the house. Once she was out of sight Bob ducked back into the barn, going to Temper's stall where Tammy stood. In her hand was the spare pistol from the saddlebag. Bob shook his head and took it from her, stuffing it in the saddlebag again.

"I told you to run if anything happened," he grumbled, buckling the straps to keep the pack closed.

"I was going to," the girl said. "But I couldn't just leave all of you."

Bob frowned but shrugged it off. He wouldn't have been able to leave his family like that either.

"Okay, Fuzzybutt," he said, embracing his daughter and kissing her between the ears. "Stay out here for now, though. You got your pad?"

"Right here," she said, pulling the palm-sized computer from her pocket.

"Good," he said. "Log into our net and keep an eye on the scopes. If anything comes our way, call out a warning. Mary might have brought some constables on foot or steelie back. The more warning we have, the better."

"I will, Papa," the girl said earnestly.

Bob hugged her again and handed her his rifle. She took it easily enough and he left her standing there looking frightened.

In the kitchen Debora had laid her rifle on the counter and was pouring coffee into big, locally produced stoneware mugs. Mary sat a little nervously at the table. Her eyes traced over Bob's muscular frame as he crossed to stand near his chair.

"You people scared the shit out of me," she told him in a subdued voice.

"Good," he growled. "Showing up like that? What were you thinking?"

"I already told you!" she said defensively.

"You could have said you were coming by and never mentioned why," Deborah said crossly, offering her the sugar jar.

Mary scowled and took two lumps of sugar, stirring her coffee before shrugging.

"I guess you're right," she sighed. "I just didn't want there to be any official communications. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Bob said, waving his hand in the air as if shooing away flies. "This whole thing has us messed up. Tammy is our little girl, you know."

"I know," said Mary. She sipped from her mug and smiled appreciatively. "You always make good coffee, Deb."

"Bob," Deborah said, getting his attention. He looked at her, brows furrowed. "Sit down. We're just talking."

With a sigh Bob slid out his chair and sat. Deborah placed his mug in front of him and then sat down herself.

"So far there is no official word from Tyne & Harper," Mary said. "My guess is that the report we filed back when the ship crashed got buried in the archive. It might even have been deleted because it doesn't relate to regular business."

"You think so?" Deborah asked.

"I'm guessing, Deb," Mary said. "I don't dare make an inquiry. I don't even want to risk telling my computer to monitor for indicators the company has taken notice. And if I start doing it manually, they might notice anyway."

"So we're stuck with waiting," said Bob.

"If a ship heads this way, we'll know it in short order," Mary told him. "We'll have weeks to get ready and make some kind of plan."

"What are you telling us?" Deborah asked.

Mary blinked at them as if she thought it was obvious.

"Tammy is one of ours," she said after a moment. "I'm not going to just give her up. She's part of this community as much as my kids are, or anyone else's. This is the frontier not the fucking CP! Tyne & Harper has a lot to lose if they allow the government to come out here and take one of the settlers. Legally, Tammy falls under local jurisdiction, and there is no extradition."

Deborah looked at Bob questioningly. He frowned deeply and leaned forward, his elbows on the table and looked at Mary.

"You're telling us you'd risk your job for Tammy?" he said.

"Damned right," Mary replied, more surly than before. Her jaw was set in a stubborn expression and her eyes were steely. "My contract is ironclad. They can fire me but they still have to fork over my grant and my share of the profits. They don't and they'll have a revolt on their hands. Quarter of a billion people have the same contract and if the company welches on me it'll be chaos."

The three of them went quiet for a minute. Slowly Bob eased back in his chair and sipped from his mug. Mary looked back and forth between them. Finally, Deborah rose and went to the counter. She opened a drawer and pulled out a bread knife.

"Let's have some cheese cake," she said, giving Mary a quick smile. "You want strawberries on yours?"

*****

"Tammy," Bob said, rapping lightly on the jam of her bedroom door. The girl looked up from her schoolwork and smiled in greeting. "I brought something for you."

"For me?" she asked, puzzled.

"It was your mother's," he explained producing a belt of some kind from behind his back. Small pouches and a large holster were attached.

"My mother's?" she breathed, setting aside her pad.

"Looks like survival gear," he said, crossing the room to present the old belt to her. "Can't read any of it, so I don't know for sure, but some of the stuff is obvious."

Tammy took it in her hands and spread it, holding it in front of her so she could see the whole thing. An odd emotion came gently over her. She had never known her mother and had nothing to link her to her jZav`Etch lineage other than the child's clothes she had been found in. This belt was a tangible part of her past she had never known even existed. Questions whirled in her mind and she looked to her father for answers.

"I meant to hang onto this until you were old enough to use it," he said. "I was going to give it to you on your birthday, but I think, maybe, you should have it now. Just in case."

"In case someone comes for me," she said, understanding what was not said.

"In case someone comes for you," he said, nodding.

"But I can't read any of this stuff either, Papa."

"I know." Bob shrugged. "I tinkered with the pistol after we knew you were going to be okay. Your Uncle Dan and me figured out how to make it work."

Tammy watched closely as her father pulled the oversized weapon from the holster and showed it to her. It was twice the size of any pistol she had ever seen, with a bulky magazine in front of the trigger guard. The grip was clearly not made for a Human hand, but it fit her father's well enough.

"This is some kind of magazine," he said, pressing a stud on the side of the weapon's frame. The magazine slid smoothly from its well into his hand and he held it up so she could take a good look. "Not sure what it's loaded with. Knocks hell out of whatever it hits, though. It's got some recoil, though. At least, compared to one of our slug throwers. Some sort of energy supporting colloidal material infused with iron particles. Dan and I fired off three rounds before we figured out there was some kind of practice mode we could set it to. That's this button."

Bob flipped a small cover open on the side of the frame and pressed the button hidden under it. The weapon came to life with a soft, high-pitched zipping sound. Tammy's eyes narrowed in concentration, memorizing every detail her father imparted.

"Don't know how many shots it holds and I'm not sure what these settings mean." He indicated a series of illuminated pips along the top of the weapon. "This is the setting your mother had it on when we met her. Figure it was set to kill."

Bob slid the magazine back into the weapon and handed it to Tammy.

"This is another magazine here." He indicated a pouch next to the holster. "This looks like a medical kit. Tried to get it analyzed but the software is indecipherable. Maybe now that we know a little about the jZav`Etch we can do something with it. There are a couple of food bars, I guess. We didn't try any of them. May be no good anymore."

Bob stopped talking and looked at the girl he had grown to love as much as his own children. Suddenly she lunged and embraced him in a near bone crushing hug. He rocked her gently as she wept on his chest.

"Oh, Fuzzybutt, I am so sorry," he whispered.

"I love you, Papa," she said and pressed her face harder against his broad chest.

*****

Time passed. Days became weeks and weeks became months. Still, no one inquired after Tammy. No word came from corporate headquarters. No CP officials communicated with Planetary Administration. It seemed Mary had been right. Life went on pretty much as it always had and Tammy and the rest of her family relaxed.

*****

"I want to be Arya!" cried Jean at the top of her lungs as the children ran through the forest to their favorite clearing.

"I get to be Jon!" Mike called. He leapt and caught hold of a vine, swinging gracefully for ten meters before letting go. He hit the soft ground, rolled in a spray of dead leaves and came up running.

"If you're Jon, I'm Tormund!" Roy yelled, catching the vine as it swung back. He did not sail through the air as gracefully as his best friend, but he went further and nearly landed on Mike when he let go.

"I'm Eowyn!" Tammy called after them. Ignoring the vine entirely she leapt and crashed into Roy, bowling the big teen over playfully. They bounced across the ground in a rough, playful tumble, not stopping until they fetched up against a fallen pine trunk with a jolt.

Tammy grinned down on Roy and through his breathless gasps he tried to smile. He was not a particularly good looking lad. Taller than most boys his age and rangy, Roy sported a twice broken nose the auto-doc had not been able to straighten the second time. He had a strong, square jaw, but it seemed too long somehow. And his ears were outlandishly large. His looks were not helped by his unruly copper red hair or the wealth of freckles he had inherited from his mother's side of the family. He did have very nice crystal blue eyes, though.

"Eowyn?" Jean demanded, coming to a stop to look back at her sister.

"Eowyn," Tammy replied firmly. She pushed off Roy and stood, dragging him to his feet by one arm.

"Tammy," Mike said, panting and holding back a laugh. "Not only is that the wrong story, it isn't even the right author."

"So?" she said and let go of Roy's hand.

"You should be Brienne," Jean said, picking up a slim stick and checking to see how straight it was.

"Yeah," Roy said, finally getting his breath back. Taking in a deeper breath he winced and wondered if Tammy had cracked one of his ribs again. He would be bruised all along his side, but he really did not care. Tammy had tackled him! That had to be a good sign.

"Brienne?" Tammy asked and flicked her ears. She scowled at her sister, then at Roy.

"Well," the boy said with a toothy grin. "You are the tallest."

Tammy's ears lay out the sides of her head and she looked down at the ground self-consciously. Her tail flicked hard from left to right, a sure sign she was embarrassed. The cat girl was taller than the other three by at least a hand span. She had experienced a growth spurt recently and it had not stopped yet. None of her dresses fit properly anymore and all of her trousers were too short for her legs, exposing her dark golden fur from just below mid-calf down. Somehow, the waist still fit, but the seat and hips were more snug than they should be. It was a good thing she did not wear shoes, otherwise she would have out grown them, too.

"I think Eowyn is better," she said and then looked up to meet Roy's eyes. "She rides horses and kills the Dark Lord's chieftain."

"Brienne is pretty good with a sword, too," Roy pointed out. "But if you want to be Eowyn, okay."

Quick as a flash Tammy stooped and snatched up a long stick. Roy had no time to save himself before she pounced. To the delighted laughter of Jean and Mike, Tammy pretended to lay a half dozen strokes across his torso, driving him back until he tripped over a log and collapsed.

"Eowyn is better than okay!" she laughed, looking down on him triumphantly.

Wide eyed, Roy pushed himself back to his feet and stared at her. She had attacked him! Normally she went after Jean and sometimes Mike, but today she had attacked him!

"Well?" Tammy demanded.

"What?" Roy asked. Her eyes were so beautiful. Like pools of liquid emerald.

"Find a sword!" she laughed. "Let's have some fun!"

It was Jean's birthday and at thirteen, she was the youngest. At almost sixteen, Mike was the oldest. They were all getting a little old to play pretend, but for Jean they were willing. The four of them had all the energy of youth and they did not stop their sword fight until Tammy broke her second stick on Roy's. The end whipped forward and struck the boy square between the eyes. He stumbled back a step, seeing stars. Mike and Jean laughed out loud, but Tammy sprang forward and caught him by his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" she asked, alarmed.

Roy rubbed his fingers on his forehead.

"That hurt," he said and then looked at her. "Is my nose broken again?"

Tammy leaned a little closer, narrowing her green eyes. Roy's forehead was scratched and red and a small lump was beginning to swell, but his nose seemed intact.

"No," she said, her whiskers vibrating. "It's fine. It's not bleeding. You didn't get any splinters, did you?"

"I don't think so," he said. And then he suddenly became aware she was actually touching him. A crooked smile spread across his homely face and his cheeks turned bright red.

"Are you blushing, Roy?" asked Jean teasingly.

Mike scowled at his little sister, but she ignored him. Roy blinked at Jean and his cheeks got even darker, the blush running back to his big ears and down his throat below his shirt collar. Tammy's ears suddenly rotated forward and the tip of her tail twitched back and forth. She smiled softly and then leaned in and kissed him between the eyes.

"There," she said in a husky purr and let go of his arms.

He gaped at her. She had kissed him. Tammy had kissed him! Slowly his mouth spread into his customary toothy grin and he placed his hand over the spot her lips had touched as if he were trying somehow to trap the memory of the contact.

"Did that make it feel better?" Tammy asked softly.

"Ummm..." Roy could not speak.

Best.

Day.

Ever.

"Let's go swimming," suggested Mike, hoping to get the focus off his friend long enough for Roy to recover.

"That sounds good!" Jean agreed. The day was hot and they were pretty close to Kitt's Hole which was the best place to swim for kilometers around.

"Do you want to go swimming with me, Roy?" Tammy asked teasingly, holding out her hand.

Bemused, he reached out and took it, marveling at the feel of her soft fur. With a bashful smile and swish of her tail she led him through the forest and down to the deep, stream-fed pool.

Hours later, after they had all cooled off in the water and had a good splash fight, the teens lay on the large rocks and let the suns dry them. Roy couldn't keep his eyes off Tammy in her bikini. It was bright red and complimented her fur and her figure better than anything he could imagine. For her part, Tammy had ignored him after they had all stripped down to their bathing suits. Still, she had kissed him, even if it was only between the eyes. His first kiss. The memory of it made him feel warm all over. Warmer than the suns beating down through the trees.

"Tammy," Jean said, rolling onto her side to look at her adoptive sister. "Did you see the news article this morning?"