Authors: Anne McCaffrey
“Ah, Rhyssa, Dorotea,” and the admiral came toward them, arms wide in welcome. Behind him was a conference table—Rhyssa wondered if this was where Ms. Leitao had collapsed during the history-making session with Space Authority. “Boris is on his way up but his cohorts are on the prowl, or so he advised me. Come, come. What would you like as an aperitif? Barney there will get it.” Dirk Coetzer waved to the discreet appearance of his steward who smiled at the ladies. “By the time Boris arrives and we’ve had lunch, I think we’ll be able to contact First Base so you can reassure yourselves that Peter Reidinger is really all right.”
“Madlyn did that,” Dorotea said, then she asked Barney for Campari and soda with lemon if he had it and took the comfortable chair the steward held out for her.
“If a contact is convenient,” Rhyssa murmured with no demur.
“It most certainly is,” Dirk said, seating her himself. “What will you have to drink?”
Rhyssa asked for white wine and then turned to Amariyah who had settled into a chair, smoothing out the aquamarine blue tunic that Tirla insisted she have for this special trip. It emphasized the color of her eyes.
“A fruit juice, if you please, Admiral, sir.”
“Did you like our hanging gardens?”
Amariyah blinked. “I didn’t see any
hanging
gardens, Admiral, sir.”
“Either admiral or sir is correct, Amariyah Bantam. And, in point of fact, all the gardens up here might be called ‘hanging,’ because we are, as it were, hanging in space.”
Amariyah accepted the correction of the proper mode of address and the interpretation of “hanging gardens” with a slight attentive cock of her head.
“Which do you prefer? Sir or admiral?”
Dirk Coetzer was obviously unaccustomed to precocious and self-confident children, no matter how polite.
“Sir will do for the admiral, Amariyah. Are you an uncle of anyone?” Dorotea asked while he was digesting her ward’s unusual manner.
“Yes, several, in fact.” Dirk cleared his throat and his voice. “This is a new one on me.”
“We can see that,” Dorotea remarked. “Life can be a very serious
business, Dirk, as every adult has learned. Some of us older and some of us younger than others.”
“I see.” And the admiral did.
Just as the drinks were served to the ladies, Boris arrived with Commander Bindra.
“Ottey’s got a bee in his bonnet,” Boris said after civilities had been exchanged. Amariyah cast him a startled look. “How did you like your tour of the hydroponics, Amariyah?”
“Very interesting, Uncle Boris. There are no bees up here. They have to pollinate by hand, as Ping Yung explained to me.”
“Uncle Boris spoke metaphorically,” Dorotea said gently, leaning toward the girl.
“Oh.” Amariyah accepted that and took another sip of her drink.
“Lunch is served,” Barney said in butlerian tones, his glance falling last on Amariyah, who loved to eat. “All has been produced here on Padrugoi, Miss Bantam,” he added.
Since they had brought good appetites with them, the guests concentrated on the first course of the meal, a green soup.
“Will I be able to talk to Peter, too?” Amariyah asked after lunch, when the plates had been removed and Barney had discreetly withdrawn.
“Of course, dear,” Rhyssa said.
She is the soul of discretion, Boris
.
“After that, Miss Bantam, perhaps you’d like to investigate our Mall. Yeoman Nizukami will escort you,” Coetzer said. He addressed the girl as if she were indeed more adult than her ten years.
“Then you can discuss the important matters,” Amariyah said in her usual blunt fashion.
“Exactly, Miss Bantam.”
A rap on the door was followed by its swift opening and Dash Sakai came in, followed closely by Nicola Nizukami. She stood discreetly to one side.
“Ah, Lieutenant. Dorotea, you may not have had a chance to meet Dash Sakai, one of Padrugoi’s communications officers,” the admiral said.
Dorotea held out her hand, smiling in innocent grandmaternal fashion.
“A pleasure, Lieutenant.”
He gave her a quizzical stare, bowing slightly as he took her hand, surprised at the strength of it. “My pleasure, I assure you, Ms. Horvath, since
Madlyn has told me that you were her first contact with the Eastern Para-psychic Center.”
“Has she, now?” Dorotea said, and smiled enigmatically.
“If the ladies will pardon, it’s time to initiate the call to First Base,” Dash Sakai said, striding to the console.
Dirk gestured for his guests to pull their chairs closer together at the table, facing the wide screen. They had barely gotten resettled when the view cleared to the now familiar sight of Watari’s office, and the usual occupants: Watari, Cyberal, Lance, Johnny, and Peter.
“Oh, Peter,” and Amariyah leaped to her feet, holding out her hands as if she could bridge the tremendous distance between them.
“Hi, Maree, good to see you!” Peter Reidinger’s face warmed with real affection. “Didn’t expect to. How’s the garden?”
“Oh, Peter, have you seen the main hydroponics unit up here?” She had been so well behaved during luncheon that this sudden burst of enthusiasm took Dirk Coetzer by surprise as Amariyah babbled on about all she had seen and learned. “All you told me about were the decorative plants, not the
Triticum
and the
Lycopersicum esculentum
and the
Brassica oleracea
and two kinds of spinaches and—”
“This is not really the time to discuss the tour, Amariyah dear,” Dorotea said, gently putting a restraining hand on the girl’s wildly gesturing arms.
“Look, Maree, I just saw the ones on First Base; we’ll compare notes when I’m downside. Okay?” Peter assured her. “But we have other very important things to discuss now, honey.”
“Oh!” Amariyah could not miss the scowl on Watari’s face and subsided instantly, looking almost—for her—frightened.
Dorotea pinned a far sterner look on the colonel and he cleared his face instantly.
“I’m sorry,” Amariyah murmured to everyone, and moved away from the table. “Hello, General Greene, Mr. Baden. I am to go to the Mall with the yeoman now.”
“Then you will see some of the small garden beds I told you about, Maree,” Peter said, encouraging her. “Sorry we can’t talk now. I’ll be back home in another ten days. It’s great to see you.” His gaze flicked from her to Rhyssa, Dorotea, and Boris.
Amariyah looked back over her shoulder even as she held up her hand
for Nicola to take and lead her out of the conference room. Dirk introduced his guests.
“Colonel,” Boris began with a glance at the admiral, “you have an offender on First Base known as Phanibal Shimaz.”
“Shimaz?” Watari stiffened, giving Cyberal a quick, almost accusatory look. The major ducked his head, rubbing his forehead. “That misbegotten son of a—” Watari gulped to a stop.
Peter gasped at both the mention of that name and Watari’s uncharacteristically secular lapse. Johnny frowned with sudden understanding. Boris gestured with one hand, as if he could fill in whatever disparaging adjectives the colonel had not spoken out loud.
“Small wonder we’ve felt a malign presence,” Johnny said, turning to Lance. “I’d forgotten all about the kidnapping.”
“I hadn’t,” Peter said softly, his lips twitching.
“I didn’t know you’d met him,” Johnny said.
“I didn’t. Just been his unwilling guest. In those days I couldn’t have read him.” Peter swallowed at the very thought and gave his head several quick shakes, dismissing something baneful.
“Just as well you haven’t,” Boris said.
“You were kidnapped by Shimaz.” Watari asked Peter, for once shocked out of his usual scowl. “He was sent here for … And you were one of them?” Peter shook his head again. “No, I escaped.”
“And freed a hundred others at the same time,” Rhyssa said, since Colonel Watari would not have known how bravely Peter had acted. “As well as revealing that despicable commerce.”
“I had no reason to forewarn you, Peter,” Boris said apologetically, “since I was unaware that you were going to First Base. However, as he is the only one incarcerated on the Moon who might wish you harm …”
“ ‘Harm’ is a little mild for what we feel passing his block,” Johnny interrupted.
“There’s absolutely no way Shimaz will encounter Mr. Reidinger,” Watari said at his most emphatic. “Even before I knew of any connection between Mr. Reidinger and that felon, there was no chance of meeting. Shimaz is currently restricted to his cell. His wristband prevents him from leaving the prison facility. I doubt Mr. Reidinger needs to see it. As a matter of Base security, Mr. Reidinger is accompanied everywhere by well-trained security personnel.”
Boris held up his hand. “That’s not at issue, Colonel. What we need to establish is what records you have of any contact between Shimaz and Earth, or Shimaz and Padrugoi.”
“He’s not allowed any contact, Commissioner. Those are special privileges that he lost early on in his incarceration.”
“Not even mail from his relatives?” Boris asked.
Watari paused. “We are required to deliver mail from bona fide relations on the authorized list accompanying the detention order.”
“Would you kindly copy us that list?” Boris asked.
A flick of Watari’s fingers sent the major to another console where such a list was generated. A small window appeared on the Padrugoi screen and Dash Sakai was quick to trigger the copy icon.
“I can’t believe that we forgot about Shimaz, Peter,” Rhyssa said, taking advantage of the lull to speak. She had been watching him intently, initially relieved by the glint of exhilaration in his thin face. He had come through a testing time and stood up well to the challenge. She was inwardly seething that that dreadful Malaysian prince had resurfaced.
“I’m not likely to see him, Rhyssa,” Peter said with a wry smile. “The prison wing is not on my agenda. Anyway I’m keeping my shields up.” He smiled reassuringly.
Rhyssa
. She stared and the little smile on Peter’s face turned up in one corner.
Did you hear me speak your name? Just nod your head once
.
PETER!
Rhyssa gripped the arms of her chair in shocked amazement. She managed to nod.
Don’t worry
, Dorotea was saying, evidently totally unaware that Peter was also ’pathing Rhyssa. Peter’s “voice” was clearer.
Shimaz can’t get to Peter
.
No need to shout, Rhyssa. I can hear you perfectly. You know I can use gestalt with any generator
, Peter went on.
WHY ARE YOU DOING IT NOW?
She was aware that that was an inane question.
First, I wanted to thank you for that shout of yours. It saved our lives, you know. And second, I’ve just never had the occasion to try to link from this distance
. His mental tone rippled with amusement and a certain satisfaction.
Rhyssa had difficulty coping with what he said. Then she felt Dorotea’s hand close on hers, the concern the older woman was feeling, and was
severely disoriented. She agitatedly waved her hand to still Dorotea’s voice in her mind so she could concentrate on hearing Peter, not quite digesting the fact that Peter’s mental tone was much stronger than that of the woman sitting beside her.
I can hear you very, very clearly, Rhyssa
. Peter modulated his voice as if encouraging her not to scream at him.
Now I know what Madlyn must have sounded like when she was just learning
.
PE-ter
, and between one syllable and the next, Rhyssa exercised stern control and lowered her tone. She exhaled deeply.
Is it just me you’re talking to?
Yup!
And he winked.
Dorotea knows you’re upset. She thinks it’s about Shimaz
.
You can read her all the way from First Base?
I can see her on the screen. But I shouldn’t ’path more or the engineering gauges here at First Base may just start spiking with my usage. Perhaps we should both concentrate on this meeting
.
Peter, don’t leave me
.
Now we’ve made contact, I’m never more than a thought away
. And the mental chuckle he sent her was mischievously self-satisfied.
Dorotea’s elbow nudged Rhyssa’s ribs.
Don’t worry about that monster, Rhyssa. Watari’s the last man in the world who would let that scuzball near Peter
.
Rhyssa shook her head and smiled reassuringly at Dorotea.
“I know Peter’s safe,” Rhyssa whispered, patting Dorotea’s hand. She could not, however, keep her mind on the comments about the condition and readiness of
Limo-34
being exhaustively discussed. She took surreptitiously deep breaths to control her mental ferment. Not only had she been able to reach him in the Limo, but also Peter had now been able to make telepathic contact with her when she was some four hundred thousand kilometers away from him? The ramifications of such a range boggled her mind. ’Pathing was not Peter’s strongest parapsychic suit so if he could do this … Oh, Lord! she thought, reeling slightly in the chair. How else had his range broadened when he’d had to save the Limo? Was a dire circumstance the catalyst required to release Talent from inhibition? As Johnny Greene had saved himself from sure death in that etop crash? Would Peter
know
how he’d done it? asked another part of her brain. She shook her head. She’d had no real details about the extent of the sabotage now being
discussed. She must concentrate on
that
. She could think of this astonishing development later.
“The release clips of the escape pods had been epoxied shut,” Watari was saying, reading from his notepad. “Only one airlock is functional; the tail assembly must be replaced. The old Mylar has to be scraped off before a new coating can be applied. The sabotaged MPUs will be sent back to you so that you can compare our findings with yours.”
“So, when,” Admiral Coetzer broke in, “will the general and Peter be able to return here?”
Watari blinked. “We do have two other Limos at First Base,” he replied in a slightly injured tone as if the admiral should have known. “As soon as Mr. Reidinger has completed his survey,” and Watari turned to the young man in question. Rhyssa thought there was a respectful dimension in his manner toward Peter, “we will have a totally secured shuttle to send him and General Greene back to Padrugoi.”