Authors: Kate Elliott
Yehoshua looked at each person at the table in turn: Jenny next to him; then Pinto and the Mule, both quiet and sober looking; Finch sitting tight-lipped beside the Concord representative, and finally Paisley, who had insisted so loudly on attending the meeting that he had thought it easier to give in than to try to keep her out. Bach, out of a sense of prudence, he had kept hidden. Currently, the robot was in the adjoining tac room recording the conversation.
“Ransome is the captain’s real name,” he said carefully. “I believe Heredes is a name she used for expedience during the war.”
“The
war
?” Thaelisha could not hide her surprise. “You had a
war
?”
Yehoshua exchanged startled glances with Jenny. Jenny shrugged. “We called it a revolution,” he said, even more carefully. “The old Central government was quite corrupt.”
“I
must
get you to Concord. When they hear about this they’ll certainly send an expedition with all haste. A
war
.”
“But what about—” Jenny began hotly.
Yehoshua, daring much, laid a hand over her clenched fist, and she broke off and, her lips thin with anger, glared down at the smooth sheen of the tabletop.
“You must understand that we can’t go anywhere without our captain,” Yehoshua said, quiet but firm. Then he realized he was still touching Jenny and, a little embarrassed, he removed his hand. She did not seem to notice.
Thaelisha frowned. “I understand your concern. But in any case, you will be going to Concord as well. Although there are a number of routes you could potentially take to get there, one is most direct. I can only assume the bounty hunter will choose that one. When min Provoniya comes aboard to go over this with your”—here another glance for the Mule—“navigator, it would be an easy enough question to ask. Whatever ship the bounty hunter has commissioned is listed on the public register by berth. Of course, I can give you no help officially, except the open credit.” She reached into the pocket of her shirt and removed a thin, hand-size slate and pushed it across the table to Yehoshua.
He fingered its slim casing but left it resting on the table. “So you suggest we follow the bounty hunter’s ship?”
“I don’t suggest anything,” Thaelisha countered. “Although I will tell you frankly that I have always disliked the Intelligence Bureau’s use of bounty hunters. It seems to me that most bounty men are no better than the criminals they’re sent after.”
“Yes. Well,” Yehoshua murmured. “We have bounty hunters in Reft space, too.” For a moment, he felt that he and Thaelisha shared an unspoken concordance on this subject, at least.
“There is one more thing.” Thaelisha’s gaze took in Jenny again, that taut tension that informs the body of a soldier at alert, before she encompassed the whole group with her attention. “A warning. Once at Concord you’ll want to tell them about the—troubles in Reft space. But until you get there, I wouldn’t talk about it. You’ll find that people”—she hesitated—“will treat you differently. We don’t—have wars anymore. We don’t—” hesitating again, she seemed at a loss for what to say.
“Well, we don’t commonly have wars either,” said Jenny tartly. “But you have to stay prepared.”
“I’m not sure what to say,” replied Thaelisha. “Some people will judge you for coming from a society that is prepared to have wars. Others will work so hard
not
to judge you that they’ll act”—she smiled ruefully—“rather like I am now. I only mean to advise you to be cautious in what you say.”
Yehoshua nodded. “I think I understand,” he said, although he was not altogether sure that he did.
She sighed, as if a burden had been lifted from her, and pushed back from the table and stood up. Yehoshua stood as well. “Now. Min Provoniya should be arriving soon, to discuss navigation. I don’t doubt you’ll want to leave as soon as possible.”
The sudden movement of Paisley jumping to her feet startled everyone. “What about min Hawk?” she demanded. “We can’t just leave him here. Captain wouldna’ like it. You know it be so,” she finished, staring fiercely at Yehoshua.
“Min Hawk?” asked Thaelisha, regarding Paisley with a slight frown. “Ah. The former saboteur. We
are
looking for him, min—Paisley, was it?”
Paisley nodded, only just civil.
“We can’t afford to wait,” said Yehoshua, brusque because he knew that he would just as soon leave Hawk behind whatever the circumstances, and he could not help but wonder if that prejudice was affecting his judgment.
The look on Paisley’s face changed. Around the table, people braced themselves, because it was clear a tirade was coming.
“I must go,” said Thaelisha calmly into the encroaching storm. “If anything further has come to light about min Hawk, I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll show you out,” said Pinto quickly, with uncharacteristic politeness, and he escaped just behind the representative. The door hissed shut.
“You
can’t
just abandon min Hawk!” Paisley cried. “It be
wrong
o’ us to do it, just cause we feel ya cool at what he done before. But Captain will feel ya more hurt and sore if we show up without him. What do you think—”
“Paisley,” said Yehoshua, “the captain has to be our first priority.”
“You just say that cause you be scared o’ him.”
“I think—” began Finch.
“You think?” Paisley rounded on Finch without mercy. “You be ya worst o’ all. B’ain’t none o’ us here got ya right to judge min Hawk. We all killed, for min Jehane, so what be so different in us? And he never treated people different just cause they be
tattoos
. Bain’t no one else you would leave if—”
“Paisley,” said Jenny in a deceptively quiet voice. “
Shut it up
.”
Paisley, mouth still open, stopped talking.
“Maybe you’d like to volunteer to stay and look for him,” muttered Finch. “Since you feel so strongly. What, were you sleeping with him, too?” His mouth curled down with scorn.
“I asked,” said Paisley with dignity. “And he refused me ya proper way, showing respect for ya offer.”
“You
asked
him!” Finch stood up. “That’s
disgusting
! How could you even want to
touch
him? How could you—”
“He be attractive. He never treat me like there be something ya wrong with me just cause I got ya tattoos,” she retorted.
“You little
slut
—”
“Finch! That’s enough!” Yehoshua moved swiftly around the table to put himself between the two. “Mule,” he said in a softer voice. “Is there anything you wanted to say before I—disband—this meeting?”
“Yes,” hissed the Mule, standing up. “I shall go await this min Provoniya in quieter quarters. As for min Hawk, while I have sympathy for his predicament, I also see the need to follow the captain while we still have a chance to keep track of her.” Its hiss was fluid with sta-ish laughter as it glanced at Paisley. “I leave the decision up to you.” It left.
“Thanks,” said Yehoshua. “Finch?”
“I guess I’m too prejudiced to have a vote,” he said bitterly, and he left before anyone could answer.
“Well, it be true,” muttered Paisley, unrepentant. She glanced at Jenny and did not attempt to say anything more.
“Jenny,” said Yehoshua, sitting down as if he was too weary to stand. “What should we do?”
But Jenny was still staring at the table. “I can’t believe I let them take her,” she said in a low voice. “I can’t believe, with all my training—I feel like I”—her voice caught—“betrayed her.”
“Don’t be an idiot!” snapped Yehoshua with real anger, hating the look of self-reproach on her face. “Trey
and
Pinto said there was nothing you could have done. I don’t doubt their word.”
“You didn’t ask Trey to this meeting, did you?”
“Someone had to stay on the bridge,” he replied, but the excuse sounded lame.
“Min Seria.” Paisley set her hands on her hips, a remarkably prim, old-fashioned gesture in her. “She be gone now, so it be no use casting blame. We mun get her back.”
Jenny let the barest touch of a smile curve her lips. “I suppose you’re right, Paisley. And damn my eyes, but that thing—that alien—was strong. I wouldn’t have believed it if it hadn’t happened to me.”
“Then,” said Yehoshua, sounding relieved, “that’s settled. Flower wants to talk to the Stationmaster about the patients we have in Medical. As for Hawk, there’s a simple enough solution. We have an open line of credit. Once Hawk is found, we ask Representative Thaelisha to send him—guarded, I suppose, since he’s not quite all there—on to Concord after us. Then we’ll all end up in the same place.”
Paisley sighed ostentatiously, but was forced to be content. Jenny, however, remained seated until Paisley left the room.
“Is something wrong?” Yehoshua asked, aware of a foolish hope that perhaps she had stayed behind just to be alone with him.
“A saboteur. And we know he came from League space originally, before he got to the Reft. But I never found out how he got to traveling with Lily. Yehoshua, what if he’s the dangerous fugitive? If he is, then Lily as good as admitted to those charges at the meeting, however unwittingly.”
“But that’s impossible. How could they have known she was traveling with him in Reft space? That road has been lost for generations.”
“How did Hawk get over, then? And what about that privateer, La Belle Dame?”
“Or the one,” Yehoshua mused, “who gave me this arm.”
They regarded the arm together, with misgiving. “Maybe there’s something Lily hasn’t told us,” Jenny said finally.
“I hope not,” Yehoshua replied, but he looked skeptical.
When Lily woke, she merely lay still, breathing for a moment. One of the Ardakians was with her—one always was. She could tell by its scent: she wondered if this was how Kyosti always sensed the world, with such strong smells, or if his sense of smell was tuned to subtler differences. Sighed, thinking of him, and turned over, hoping it was Fred with her now.
Seeing her open her eyes, the Ardakian grinned.
“Hello, Fred,” she said with relief. Stanford never grinned, aping human mannerisms in that way; she supposed he thought it beneath his large and imposing dignity. “Can you unbuckle me so I can use the washroom?”
“Sure.” Fred undid her leg bindings and loosened the ones around her wrists. Finishing, he glanced around the tiny cabin and then leaned closer to her. “Most humans ain’t so clean.”
His head provided a tempting target, but Lily had tried once at shift change to break out. The attempt had been a dismal failure, although, in fairness, neither of the Ardakians seemed to hold the attempt against her. Windsor she had not seen since they left Diomede some five days since.
“It’s the only recreation I’ve got,” she said instead, sighing as he scooted back to his guard post beside the door.
“What is?”
“
Washing
.”
“Oh, that. Yeah.” He grinned again and appeared to be thinking quite hard. “Could get you another disk for your slate if you got done with the text Stan got for you yesterday.”
“No, I’m not done with them yet. But thanks.” She swung her legs off the bunk and did some leg warm-ups and then more strenuous exercise, what she could in the cramped space.
Fred watched with his usual keen interest in anything physical. “Can’t bend my knees like that,” he said; he always said it. His voice was pitched so low it sounded as much like a growl as words, but he was easy enough to understand once you got used to it, Lily reflected as she began to do kata, adapted to her current state. Stanford, of course, spoke in a deep but clear voice. “Nice kicks.” Stanford, of course, usually offered criticism of her form. To be fair, some of it
was
useful.
“Oops.” Fred’s eye ridges lifted, a sign she now recognized as his receipt of an order from some unseen communication hidden on his person. “Siddown. Boss is coming.”
Lily sat. Fred tied up her ankles. The door opened and Windsor slouched in. He looked tired and unkempt. Lily suspected that
he
was the one who did not wash often enough. In the corridor, Stanford sat at ease on his haunches. One long arm balanced his body weight over the floor, the other held one of the tiny, thin ubiquitous slates that were the League’s more advanced equivalent of the Reft’s com-screens.
“Siddown,” said Windsor, rubbing a hand over his eyes as if the light hurt them. He blinked several times, making a sour face, and looked at her, squinting. “Can you turn that damned lighting down?”
“Maybe you should drink less,” suggested Lily, having seen the same signs in her Ridani crewmen.
“I didn’t ask your opinion. We got a little problem, Heredes.”
“Ransome.”
“Ransome. Heredes. What the hell do I care? We still got the problem.”
“My heart goes out to you.”
“She always this smart?” Windsor asked.
“Nope,” said Fred.
“Yes,” said Stanford. “Although I must agree with the esteemed captain that your consumption of alcohol and other illegal and mind-altering substances is currently out of proportion to your body’s ability to efficiently metabolize—”
“Stanford, I didn’t ask your opinion either.”
Fred nodded sagely at Lily. “Boss ain’t feeling good.”
“Fred. Shut up. Now listen, ‘Captain.’” He said it with the barest sneer. “We’re coming in to Akan Center. They had some kind of disaster on the wheel a couple days back, and they just requisitioned the owner of this tub for the relief effort. So we’re stuck here until she’s done and freed up by whatever officious high-level Concord official decided to interfere with legal commercial traffic like a damned—” He halted in a fit of coughing and reached into his shirt pocket. Pulling out a small flask, he took a sip of its contents. “Anyway. We’re stuck here until we can get off. It might be two or three days. I’m not sure what happened, some kind of explosion, or a breach. But one of the boys is going to be on you all of the time, armed. Both when they’re both awake, and they don’t need much sleep. So do me a favor—”
“—and just be nice,” said Lily sweetly.
The contents of the flask had obviously fortified him because he ignored the comment. “Save it for Concord. I don’t know what they want you for. You can argue it out with them.” He turned to go.