The Crucible of Empire (12 page)

"I saw them a short time ago," Wrot said. "I assigned Major Tully as their escort soon after this happened so they have not been unsupervised."

"Is this Tully a human?" Mallu asked.

Wrot's body signaled
affirmation
.

"Then it may be dead," Mallu said.

"Oh," Wrot said, "you do not know Tully, possibly one of the most stubborn humans alive, and that is saying a great deal. They are a marvelously recalcitrant species." He pulled out his pocketcom. "They have to do everything their own way, and I am quite certain Tully would never be so obliging as to allow your tech to kill him."

Goddamn Jao. Tully doggedly followed as the pair entered the engine room, exclaiming to one another over the technology in words far beyond his everyday Jao vocabulary. After eating yesterday in one of the Jao food halls, some nauseating concoction involving raw fish that probably tasted even worse than it smelled, not that anyone could have persuaded him to try it, they'd prowled the ship for endless hours.

He'd located the Krants' quarters early on, but except for a brief nap, during which he'd stationed himself outside their door, they'd refused to stay there, exploring the
Lexington
with a relentless tenacity that spoke to him more of avoidance than real interest. It was plain that the female, Kaln, feared the Krant-captain would die and was trying with all her might to think about anything but that.

For now, he'd been letting them run, just as one let a frightened horse gallop out its fear before gathering the reins and turning its head back to the stable. His patience was about at an end, though. He had a lot of last minute details to oversee for Baker Company's deployment to the
Lexington
, and he needed some real sleep, more than a ten minute catnap.

Kaln knelt on the deck and peered under a bank of controls. She rapped so hard with her knuckles that read-outs flickered. Two startled human techs headed over to intervene. Tully's pocketcom buzzed and he fished for the black plastic device as he went to join the fray. "Yes?"

"I assume you still have our Krant friends in sight," Wrot's voice said in English.

"Affirmative," he said, "though I'm getting mighty tired of their faces."

"Conduct them back to the medical bay," Wrot said. "Their captain wishes to assure himself of their good behavior."

"They haven't killed anyone yet, if that's what you mean," Tully said. "I've been running interference for them all over the ship, keeping the crew away from them, them away from the crew as best I could."

One of the human techs was bent over, arguing with Kaln who had pulled off the back of the console and was peering into a maze of colored wires. Eyes flashing green, she looked up at the man and flattened her good ear.

Tully sighed.

"Wise," Wrot said. "Bring them up." The com clicked off.

Yeah, Tully thought, just like that. He inserted himself into Kaln's line of sight. "We have to go back to the medical bay," he said. "Your captain—"

"He is not dead!" the big female said. Her body stiffened.

Tully waved a hand. "No—"

"It was that human's fault!" she cried, shoulders rising. "The creature was too insolent to be borne!"

The other Jao, Jalta, was just watching, his spine at a peculiar angle, signifying something, no doubt, though Tully hadn't a clue. He was suddenly very sick of these two Jao and this half-assed babysitting assignment.

"Stand down!" he barked in Jao, schooling his tone to imitate Yaut. Gods knew he'd heard him often enough over the last few years. He caught and held Kaln's flickering green and black gaze. "You will not further shame your kochan with such wanton behavior!"

Jalta backed away, while Kaln froze, one dark-napped hand still on the wires.

The human tech, a youngster no more than twenty with fair skin that had gone even paler, was sweating. He clenched a wrench in one hand as though he wanted to give her a solid whack on the head. "Sir, I don't know exactly what's going on here, but if they pull those dynamo wires, we'll be hours getting them reseated and tested." He glared over his shoulder at Jalta as well. "It could mean we won't lift on time!"

"You are upsetting our techs," Tully said, "for no reason beyond idle curiosity, which will stop now."

Kaln's hand dropped. She handed the protective cover to the young human tech, who clutched it to his chest as though it were his firstborn and backed away. Her whiskers bristled as she came upright. "You will not speak to me or any other Jao in such a disrespectful manner!"

"It has been given to me to instruct you on how to conduct yourselves in this mixed crew," Tully said carefully, the blood pounding in his ears. Jeeze, negotiating with rebels had been a hundred times easier than this. It would have been less of a challenge to talk a clam out of its damned shell. He cursed Wrot's ornery hide for putting him in this position. "That is one of the ways, as a member of the governor's service, that I make myself of use." Without knowing exactly what the posture meant, he let his body assume his best Yaut-imitation of a Jao instructing someone very dim. "You will listen and do as I say!"

Jalta dropped his gaze, his stance gone to what seemed to be
neutrality
. Kaln loomed over Tully, her functional ear pitched at an unsettling angle, not
pride
exactly. He'd seen that often enough to know. Not
anger
or
rage
. Something else.

If it came down to hand-to-hand, he thought, holding his ground as she advanced upon him, he was confident he could take her. Jao were strong, but not as agile or fast as a human in good physical condition. They tended to underestimate humans in general—and Tully's military assignment meant that he'd trained extensively against Jao soldiers. As long he didn't let her get a good grip—

With heart-stopping abruptness, she turned away. "Lead us back to the medical bay, smoothface. We would see our captain for ourselves."

By leading, of course, he would be assuming an inferior position. Jao deemed it an honor to go last and, of course, "smoothface" was a sly insult, pointing out that he had no incised bars of service as would a Jao of similar rank. "My full name," he said with a sudden flash of inspiration, knowing that to force the knowledge upon her was a form of power, "is Major Gabriel Dorran Tully."

Her eyes flashed green as some restless alien sea, then she fell in behind him.

Wrot suddenly felt it, the pull of events, an alteration in his timesense. Somewhere, faraway, factors had shifted. Something important had changed, something that had to do with this impending exploration. It was
time
to act.

If what the Preceptor suspected was true, then the Lleix had survived, but as the sudden need for haste pressed in upon him, he knew that, for whatever reason, they might not have much longer. The Ekhat had been in that nebula. Krant's ships had destroyed the vessel they encountered, but there could easily be more investigating its disappearance. Many more.

He slipped out of the medical bay into the hallway, then used his pocketcom to contact the
Lexington
's new captain, Dannet krinnu ava Terra.

"Terra-Captain," he said, when her gravelly voice answered, "there has been a change. Do you feel it too?"

"I felt a slight increase in urgency," she said.

Several crewmen hurried past, Jao and human, lost in discussion. "Because the Preceptor has shared more of his concerns with me," Wrot said, "it is possible I feel the change more strongly."

"You could tell me what you know," she said testily, "then I would no doubt experience it in equal measure."

"The circumstances are not mine to share," Wrot said. A pallet of supplies was being towed by a sturdy human female jinau to a nearby storeroom. He edged out of the way. "Only the Preceptor can authorize their dissemination."

"Would your answer be the same, had I not been born of Narvo?" she asked.

"You are Terra now," he said stiffly and set off for the nearest lift. The strange urgency tugged at him, making his nap itch, his whiskers unsettled. Some unfortunate flow was trying to complete itself. They must leave now, or as close to now as could be managed. "That is all that matters."

"So I was told," Dannet said, "though, thus far, I have not always found it to be true."

"Some maintain long memories concerning Oppuk's misdeeds, but you have been given command of this great ship," Wrot said as he jogged down the corridor, weaving around more crewmen, "the largest vessel ever built by Jao. Why should you not feel trusted?"

"I make myself of use," she said, then fell silent, obviously waiting for him to lead the conversation in a more productive direction.

"How soon can we lift?" he asked, turning at an intersection and dodging a pair of humans towing crates stacked on wheeled platforms.

"The last of the supplies are being loaded now," Dannet said. "I will recall all personnel not currently on board. We can lift as soon as everyone has reported."

At her words, he could feel things shifting into place, conditions being satisfied, edges coming into alignment. They would leave shortly, though he had no way to tell at this juncture if it were soon enough. "I will fetch the rest of the Krant crew," he said, "then return myself."

"Will that be sufficient?" she asked, acknowledging his superior perception of the situation's flow.

"It will have to be," he said.

In his secluded office at the edge of the base, Preceptor Ronz felt the new urgency like a sharp prickle down his spine, an irresistible twitch that commanded his feet to move, to take him somewhere
else
. He stared blindly at the curving quantum crystal walls, trying to see beyond. The situation had altered.

He located his pocketcom under a pile of flimsies and contacted Wrot. The crafty old veteran answered immediately. "I feel it, too," his voice said through the device. "Something is quite definitely trying to complete itself."

That could be good or ill, the Preceptor reflected. There was no way of knowing. All he could tell for now was that faraway variables had shifted and it was time to act. He rose restlessly from his chair, knocking over a stack of paper reports. "The ship must leave as soon as possible," he said.

"I am already working on it," Wrot said. Ronz could detect a note of excitement in the old warrior's voice. "Fortunately, Terra-Captain Dannet's experience has stood us in good stead. She has prepared well. I have been running checks since I felt the flow turn. The ship's critical systems are up and running, most supplies already loaded. Subcommanders Brel krinnu ava Terra and Rob Wiley had the foresight to load their equipment several solar revolutions ago, including the space assault modules and ground tanks. All personnel not currently on board have been summoned."

"Fortunate, indeed." Ronz looked down at the plastic com's rectangle in his hand, trying to make his mind pull up any critical lingering details. Nothing could be left undone. "I do not have to tell you how important this is."

"If you are right," Wrot said, "only our human allies can bargain for us in this situation. Those you seek will not be pleased to have us on their trail again."

"No, they will not," Ronz said. "It is your job to help Caitlin and Tully make them see the possibilities here, the many ways we could now be of use to one another as the Lleix once were to us, so long ago."

"Before they kill us for hunting them to the point of extinction," Wrot said sourly.

"Yes," Ronz said. He stalked about his office, round and round and round, utterly unable to be still. An immense opportunity for association loomed before them, if only they could make use of it. He longed to go and put his hand to the task himself, but could not spare his attention here. "That would be best."

Feeling the new urgency, Aille collected Yaut and went out to the
Lexington
's vast construction yard to watch. The last of the supplies were streaming in. Lines of jinau and Jao soldiers strode purposefully toward the huge ship, their kits slung over one shoulder, talking among themselves with excited gestures.

Cables were being cast off, power lines withdrawn, scaffolding rolled away. The last minute screech of tools was fading with only the final few touches here and there on the vast hull being administered. Everyone, human and Jao alike, seemed to feel the change in conditions just as strongly. It was
time
.

To do what? his brain demanded. Aille was keen to learn what Ronz was planning. Just who did the Preceptor expect to discover in that nebula in the section of space sometimes called the Sangrel Deeps? What could possibly lie hidden there worth all this hurry and secrecy? Jao encountered sapient species from time to time, though rarely those accomplished enough for space travel or as infernally clever as humans. Still, word of such discoveries usually disseminated throughout the many Jao kochan as tales of interest rather than being withheld with this degree of fierce security.