Lyon's Pride (16 page)

I'm over five times your age, Rojer Lyon, and I still cry!
Isthia had told him rather forcefully the first time he protested that he was too old for weeping.

It gave him a headache but he'd usually feel better inside.

Then there was the morning when Jeran required help to bring in a large ship of Mrdini specialists who wanted to prowl through all the bits and pieces that Denebians had found of the original two Hive scout ships. As Jeran had
no 'Dini language skills, Rojer had to perform the landing courtesies. That gave him his first contact since the tragedy and, to his surprise, he slipped easily into the required formalities of body and language. Then, too, these were 'Dinis he'd never met before nor would be likely to meet again so there was no real personal involvement.

Isthia had been right, Rojer decided on his return home. Time did heal. He recognized that he had taken one more large step out of mourning. He began to spend more time with Asia and managed to teach her to fry her own fish without burning it.

*   *   *

Rojer?
His uncle Jeran's voice was unmistakable.
'Port yourself here
.

Rojer had also learned over the last year not to expect explanations from Jeran, so he saved the problem he was working on the Engineering Teach and checked to see if his clothes were clean enough for a Tower appearance. He'd depilated his face that morning and had had a recent trim, though today's scrutiny in the mirror made him realize that the Gwyn silver lock seemed to have broadened. Finger-combing it back from his forehead, he exhaled a deep breath and 'ported himself to the plascrete apron at the foot of the Deneb City Tower.

It was as well he picked the spot he did, for there were quite a few vehicles parked just beyond him, and several of the ubiquitous Denebian ponies in the turn-out field. He wondered what was up.

By the time he had assessed the population of the large Tower room and “felt” the agitated presence of his cousin, Asia Eagle, he decided that today was Test Day for the several engineering students of Deneb City. He took the Tower steps three at a time. Jeran welcomed his breathless nephew with a solemn nod—his uncle could be more
methody than his father ever was—and pointed to the one free workstation. There were six, back to back and arranged so no one could see into another. Asia was in the workstation opposite him. He gave her an encouraging grin because her complexion had an odd green tinge to it.

“Maybe he shouldn't have sprung the test on you so suddenly?” he whispered as he sat down.

“He
knows
how I'd fret,” Asia said, looking sicker than ever.

“You'll do grand, Asia. You're faster'n'me in jo-junctions and quantums.”

She cast him a dire look. “No one's faster'n you at quantums, Ro…”

NO TALKING!
“Of any kind,” Jeran added aloud. “I'm the monitor.”

Asia made a sorrowful grimace.

“Your stations will display the test questions in precisely one minute four seconds. Two hours are allowed for the first section, to be followed by a break of fifteen minutes during which you may move about or relieve yourselves. There are four papers, with a half-hour break for lunch. You may, of course, leave the test station whenever a paper is finished.” A mixture of groans and guffaws met that statement. Jeran permitted a small smile. “It has been known to happen. Is everyone prepared?” Deeper groans greeted that query.

The dark screen before Rojer suddenly lit and the initial page of the first paper presented him with a problem he
knew
he could answer easily. That gave him considerable self-confidence. He'd show them all…

*   *   *

“There's no way I've passed,” Rojer heard Asia groan in a tone of abject defeat at the end of the examination day.

“Don't come on like that with me, Asia,” he said as sternly as he dared. Even with him, she'd sometimes retreat into a silent unresisting victim. “I've been working with you too long. I know your abilities. And I won't have you belittling yourself.” He did a little “tinkering” to encourage more optimism. “There wasn't a single problem we haven't gone over and you know all the structural ones because we've gone over them together. So, we'll just wait and see if I failed, too.”

Shocked out of her self-denigration, her ripple of laugh bubbled up, slightly hysterical with disbelief.

“You? Fail? Rojer, you couldn't!”

“Since I know as much as you know, then you couldn't either. Or we both did. Pick your choice!” he added airily, grinning. Somehow he could usually make her smile back at him. It was a tired and tentative effort on her part, but it was a smile.

He gave his head a shake to clear the tension of a long day's concentration and exhaled sharply. He really didn't think he'd done too badly, so there was no way she had. Certainly not on the spatial equations and the jo-junctions. They'd been snaps. He'd seen Commander Metrios work them often enough while on the
Genesee
…

He pushed himself back from the workstation, compressing his lips. He hadn't thought of Gil or Kat all day—even at the lunch break when they'd all been exchanging complaints about the severity of the testing.

That is as well, Rojer, for you must move on now
, he heard Jeran say softly, and not because there was anyone who would listen but because Jeran wanted to convey more than sympathy and approval. “Softly” expressed such multiples better.

“You're dismissed now, candidates,” Jeran said out loud. “The results will be tabulated and sent to your personal
terminals later this evening. You've been diligent and I am certain that all who should qualify will.”

“He says that every year,” murmured one of the boys Rojer did not know.

“Rojer,” Jeran went on, though he surely had heard the cynical remark, “Raini asked if you'd care to stop by before you leave the City.”

Rojer grinned at the implied invitation to dinner. Jeran's wife was an extremely good cook and tonight would be one when he'd appreciate having a meal he didn't have to prepare. He could even put up with the proximity of his cousin Barry's 'Dinis.

Jeran also caught that and nodded once again, his eyes so like grandmother Rowan's, brighter with approval.

“Not the fatted calf, but that casserole you're so fond of,” Jeran said, after the others had departed. He was closing down the station, switching the messaging system to his house unit.

“Can I help?” Rojer asked.

“This doesn't take long. Get a breath of fresh air, lad,” Jeran said and gestured for his nephew to leave.

Just as Rojer reached the bottom of the stairs, he was astonished to hear the generators turn on.

Find yourself a carrier, Rojer
, a voice told him.
You have five minutes to gather up any things you need from the cottage. Mother'll send on the leftovers under your bed
.

Granddad?

Speaking as such, let me congratulate you on the high scores you achieved on your exams. Honors, even.
There was a chuckle.
Speaking as Earth Prime, you're to get your lazy butt to the Mars Moon Base. The refugee ship has just now assumed its assigned geosynchronous orbit and the technicians are thronging to get inside it. High
Council has insisted that I assign Primes to assist in this venture into alien territory
.

Father
, Jeran interjected,
Rojer's had an exhausting day. And you know perfectly well that we Primes can't bear proximity to Hiver metals. The reaction on a tired mind will be all the more intense…
.

Jeran, you fuss more than your grandmother over the boy. And it's Rojer's choice. Care to come?

Suddenly mental fatigue vanished as the adrenaline of challenge swept through Rojer. Even the Moon Base had food dispensers. And sleep? At this moment?

I got honors, Granddad!
If he had, then Asia had.

High enough to make Xexo impossible, according to your mother, and certainly Earth Prime wants one of his own there to keep an eye on things. You won't be required to go “in” the vessel: just maneuver lights and rescue those who step into Hiver tubes
.

Rojer wasn't certain if it was making Xexo proud or the challenge of investigating, even at a remote distance, the undamaged Hive sphere, that was causing his elation.

Hell, Granddad, I could even manage going inside it—if I didn't have to stay too long
, Rojer replied.

Then move it, lad, or the post'll have to go to someone else
.

Granddad, did Asia Eagle pass?

Asia Eagle?
There was a pause.
Yes. But don't waste time
.

Rojer did not consider it a waste of time to try to give Asia that reassuring news but when he tried to reach her mind with the good news, she'd closed up tight as a pod in a misery of anxiety. Just like her, the silly clunch! She'd know soon enough and he'd tease her—gently—about her lack of confidence. Then he focused his mind on his room in Isthia's cottage and started 'porting tapes, disks, oddments,
belatedly remembering to snatch a carisak into which he dumped these belongings.

You'll need at least one change of clothing, lad
, Jeran said with an amused snort and himself plucked several items of clothing from the cottage, more neatly folded than Rojer had left them. These were added to the carisak.

Closing it, Rojer sprinted for the nearest single personnel carrier. As he stretched himself out on the narrow couch inside, he reached out a long arm to haul the lid down. He heard a brief second thump and grinned that his uncle bothered to check that the latches had caught. So methody of him!

Please thank Raini for me, Jeran. I'm sure I won't eat as well…

Good luck, Rojer
, the brisk kindly voice of his great-grandmother cut in.

Thanks for ev…
and then Rojer felt the indefinable sensation that told the experienced traveling Talent that he was no longer where he had just been. He heard a chuckle.

Granddad? Now I'd call that cocky!

Would you?
And his grandfather's chuckle renewed with a certain pleased edge to it.

“Okay in there, sir?” a slightly less confident voice asked.

“Fine!”

The hatch opened to reveal a double domed darkness, well sprinkled with stars, but Rojer was too familiar with Callisto to believe that's where he'd been 'ported. He sat up and saw the naval rating peering in at him.

“Rojer…”

Prime
…his grandfather corrected him firmly.

“…Lyon, Prime. Am I expected?”

“Yes, sir, you are, sir.”

Rojer grimaced a bit at the “sirring” since it evoked
memories which still caused him to wince. He hitched himself out of the carrier, slung the carisak over his shoulder and gestured for the rating to lead the way.

As he came round the carrier on his way to the air lock that joined the carrier depot with the gigantic Moon Base facility, he stopped abruptly. There, above him, half-lit by Sol, was the complete sphere of the refugee ship he was here to explore. She was appropriately equipped with regulation buoy lights.

“She's a beauty, sir, even for an alien craft,” the rating said with a odd ring of pride in his voice. “We were lucky to snag her to Mars Phobos Base even if now there's as many 'Dinis here as there would be if she'd been sent to one of theirs.”

“'Dinis bother you?” Rojer asked, bridling at the hint of intolerance in the rating's tone.

“Me, sir? No, sir,” was the almost startled reply as they entered the first of several lift shafts on the way to their destination. “Cute little bu…beggars, most of 'em. Better manners'n some I could name not too far from here. To starboard now, sir.”

A quick scan of the rating's mind showed Rojer that the man was honest enough—so long as he was not required to be much in their company.

“Don't they keep that Hiver queen here?”

The rating visibly flinched and shot Rojer a nervous look. “No, she's down on Earth's Moon Base. Heinlein Buildings. No way she or anything she can make out of her eggs can get out of
that
place.”

“Oh? Has she hatched more of the larvae?” Surely someone would have mentioned it to him, Rojer thought, if the matter had been noteworthy.

“A couple of oddies. Small scuttling things,” and the rating gave a snort of disdain. “Vents got checked again,
thinking she might be trying to send 'em outside. No way she can!” The man had pride in his service's security measures.

As they traversed several corridors and took one more long ride upwards, Rojer wondered how soon he could wangle a chance to get down to the Moon and observe her. If, as the experts were now fairly certain, the queens controlled all ship functions, he ought to see her for himself as well as the attendants and other varieties she had finally allowed to hatch. As far as he knew, his cousin Rhodri was still on duty there.

“Here you are, sir,” the rating said, stopping by a door and pointing to a palm-pad. “If you'll just do the necessary…”

Rojer obliged by placing his hand on the pad and felt the tingle that registered the quarters to his imprint. Then the door whooshed open on a good-sized, attractively furnished lounge area: a good few notches above the usual naval base interiors. Peering about, he saw that he also had separate sleeping and sanitary rooms. The rating was more concerned that he know how to operate the internal com unit, where emergency life support equipment was stored and which numbers to dial for which services. He had no sooner finished this briefing than the com unit blinked a message light.

“I'll leave you to it, sir,” the rating said and, with another smart salute, left.

Rojer depressed the “deliver” button. A mellifluous voice—much kinder to the ear than the usual “service” computer voice—informed him that Commandant Enarit del Falco would like to see him as soon as he was settled. A directional node dropped out of the message slot.