“English is not your language--yet you have been speaking it,” Spirit said.
“I have a prompt,” she explained. This was a plug in her other ear, that fed her the words she subvocalized. She demonstrated it in Spanish and Russian.
Spirit had little doubt that this was the most remarkable woman they had encountered. But Hope did not immediately take her as a mistress. His knowledge that she was not the women she emulated cooled his ardor.
Meanwhile, they had a heavy schedule. Forta became part of their party, along with Tasha and Smilo, and was quite useful as an additional secretary, translator, and assistant. Her time would come.
Planets
The heat did not let up; the nomenklatura remained determined to eliminate Hope. Khukov reluctantly concluded that they could not safely remain on the planet. If Hope showed his face in public, one of their assassins would go for him first, then if caught would commit suicide, and the body would have no ties to the employer. If he remained in hiding, eventually they would ferret out his location, and send in a bomb.
They were no longer interested in being careful; he had to be eliminated, for it was obvious that they were otherwise doomed.
“But you have proven yourself,” Khukov said on the private holophone. It looked just as if he were sitting in their chamber. “The procedures you have instituted will carry through to their completion, perhaps more slowly without you, but inevitably. You can now be spared for greater things. I want you to negotiate with Rising Sun.”
That was Titan, Saturn's greatest moon. In the Solar System, Titan was a satellite of Saturn, and this did not accord with their social perspective, any more than their ancestors considered Japan to be an island satellite of the continent of Asia. So they preferred to call themselves the Empire of the Rising Sun.
“Rising Sun,” Hope agreed. “But can the Occidental Tyrant speak for the oriental aspect of Saturn?”
“In many respects, that moon is closer to your planet than to mine,” he reminded them. “Remember, it was Jupiter who occupied it, after System War Two, not Saturn. Now it is an industrial giant in its own right, and we would like to establish better trade relations.”
“I'm sure Titan will trade,” Hope said. “But it sells finished products, and your interplanetary credit is weak. What can you offer?”
Khukov told them what the USR had to offer. Hope nodded. “I believe I can handle that.”
“And it will keep you safely off-planet, while the disturbance here dies down,” Khukov concluded.
Thus they undertook their mission as liaison between Saturn and Titan. It promised to be an intriguing challenge.
Titan bore a certain resemblance to their planet of origin, Callisto. Khukov had termed it moon, but as he had noted, the folk of the satellites preferred to call them planets in their own right.
Titan had a substantial atmosphere; its solid surface was completely hidden from exterior view. Critics referred to that atmosphere as solid smog; the natives referred to it as the basic stuff of the origin of life.
Certainly it represented a rich chemical environment from which the natives processed many products, and its pressure of one bar (the same as Earth's) facilitated the operation of city-domes in the surface. It was the only planet besides Earth itself whose atmosphere was dominated by nitrogen.
Politically, it was another matter. Titan was colonized by the Japanese of Earth, and they maintained their rivalry and often enmity with huge Saturn. Because Titan's position in space was far superior for the direct launching of ships, Titan's Navy became more formidable than Saturn's. She had turned her energies to commerce--and shortly became a System leader in the construction of merchant ships, and in computerized technology. Titan had beaten its swords into plowshares, and was now stronger as an economic power than it had been as a military power. Jupiter itself imported so much from Titan that it had a sizable trade deficit with that planet.
Their party was transferred in space to a Rising Sun merchant vessel and conveyed to the surface of the planet. This was an interesting experience in its own right. The atmosphere was deep, and developed a brownish hue as they descended. It was not stormy, but very thick; soon it obscured anything that might have been at any distance.
They cruised along a highway that curved around mountains of methane ice, and beside ponds of liquid methane from which methane vapor ascended slowly back into the sky. Brown methane snowflakes drifted down to coat every solid surface. This just happened to be the spot in the System where the temperature was at the “triple point” of methane--where it could exist simultaneously in solid, liquid, and vapor states.
Kyo loomed as a huge dome, girt by many lesser domes. Spirit knew that the main city had more than ten million people, and the region as a population center was much greater. They entered the lock and were treated to another marvelous sight: the oriental splendor of the culture of Rising Sun. Spirit saw a shrine with multileveled upward-curving roofs, diminishing in size as they ascended. There were dwarf trees growing in a special little park. The civilians wore brightly colored sarongs or pajama-type suits, and the petite women had their hair ornately dressed. This was, indeed, the heart of the Orient.
But elsewhere the city was intensely settled, looking quite modern. Evidently the citizens of Rising Sun valued their cultural heritage but did not let it interfere with practical matters.
They were conducted to an elegant apartment complex, where they were abruptly left to their own devices while their hosts prepared for their diplomatic encounter. They enjoyed themselves at the heated pool-sized bath, and had a fancy multi-course banquet. Smilo, released to roam the sealed region of the suite, condescended to tear apart a realistic-looking steak. His presence, perhaps, was another reason they were being left alone.
Forta did not actually enter the bath; she remained clothed, politely aloof. But Tasha did, and her body was spectacular in the bathing suit. That bothered Spirit, for two reasons: it reminded her that she was no longer in her glamorous twenties, and it provoked desire in Hope. He liked them young and soft and sexy and not too intelligent. Forta was none of these; Tasha was most of them.
Hope grimaced as he sat at the rim and dangled his feet in the water. He was trying to resist temptation, and he had never been good at that. But Spirit could not intervene; this was his private fight, with or without pun.
Tasha swam up. “I will purchase handcuffs,” she murmured.
“Thank you, but I do not care to be cuffed,” he said.
“For me,” she said. “For my hands and feet, and you will have the key.”
Oh. The woman was in his orbit, of course. But he demurred. “I am supposed to be through with you,”
he said. “I have another woman now.” He was giving lip service to it, at any rate.
Spirit glanced at Forta, but she seemed unconcerned. Was she so sure of her eventual victory, or masking her woe?
“That is why I must have you soon,” Tasha said. “Once you go with her, you will never again go with me.”
She turned her face to him beseechingly. “Oh, please Tyrant--I want you so much! Bind me, rape me, anything, only take me one more time.”
How could he resist? He obviously did desire her, dangerous as she was to desire. “Buy the cuffs,” he said.
“Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed, flouncing out of the water to embrace him.
Forta did not react, but Smilo did. He jumped up and growled, forcing Tasha to get quickly clear.
On the following day they were granted a holo interview with the Shogun, the principal dignitary of the planet.
“So good to meet you, Tyrant,” he said, lifting his hand in the greeting that was accepted as equivalent to a handshake on such occasions. “I have long admired your management of Jupiter.” He glanced to the side. “What a beautiful Smilodon! Have you any of those for export?”
This was a surprise, but Hope picked right up on it. The Shogun really did admire the tiger. “Perhaps a matched pair. Breeders.”
“Breeders,” the Shogun echoed longingly. Titan had a long history of martial arts, now stifled by the terms of the treaty, and admired superior fighting animals.
Hope signaled Tasha. She nodded and went to their interplanetary phone. It was possible that they would be able to confirm the assignment of a pair of Smilodons before this interview was concluded.
Saturn would not want to let them go, but would do so in a case like this. They desperately needed the good graces of the Shogun, and with him, Rising Sun.
The Shogun had been coolly formal. Now he warmed noticeably. He had known Hope as the Tyrant of Jupiter, and was clearly pleased to be interacting with him, despite the changed circumstances. They got down to business.
“Chairman Khukov of Saturn and I share a dream,” Hope said. “It is to alleviate economic and political conditions by opening the final frontier to man: that of the colonization of the galaxy.”
The Shogun picked right up on the implication. “Therefore no further need for war.”
“No need of war,” Hope agreed. “How much better it would be to use our resources in the effort to colonize all space. Saturn has raw resources, but lacks proper industrial capacity to exploit them efficiently. This project will be phenomenally expensive, even in the pilot stage.”
“But with potentially astronomic rewards.”
“True. But at the moment, it is a strain on Saturn's resources. That is why we hope to enlist the participation of others.”
“Such as Rising Sun,” the Shogun said, “that just happens to have a highly developed industrial base.” He did not bother to conceal his keen interest.
“This is true.”
“In fact, you seek investors.”
“That might be another way of putting it.”
“What might Saturn offer, in return for such investment?” The Shogun was of course nobody's patsy.
“Raw iron,” Hope said.
The Shogun nodded. “I believe it could be possible to deal.” Spirit kept a straight face. Of course it was possible! There was hardly anything Titan needed more than iron, in quantity. This could solve its problem. “But I regret to say that a certain distrust that has existed historically may not be abated immediately.”
He was understating the case. The antagonism between Saturn and Titan had been long and bitter. “If there is any way to facilitate understanding and acceptance--”
“There is one whose continued presence would serve to abate skepticism here.” He glanced meaningfully at Hope.
Hope was taken aback. “I had it in mind to meet with you, then return--”
“To the hospitality of the nomenklatura?”
He had a point. Titan was certainly safer for Hope, and there was indeed a job he could do here, facilitating the organization of the new base.
Hope glanced at Spirit. She nodded. “I would be very pleased to accept your hospitality, if Saturn concurs,” he said. “In the interest of forwarding the Dream.”
“This may be a dream we shall be pleased to share.”
They raised their hands in the gesture of understanding.
The limited treaty between the USR and Rising Sun was considered a diplomatic coup. Shipments of iron ore moved to Titan, and a base was constructed on that planet at a near-record pace, while technicians studied the details of the breakthrough process. Hope interviewed the Rising Sun personnel, weeding out the unfit in his fashion; Saturn retained veto power in this respect, and he was serving Saturn's interest. It was a type of thing he was good at, but since he did not speak Japanese he required Forta's assistance.
She translated, using her special equipment, while he judged the technicians' reactions, and it worked well enough. Thus he was making himself useful while also serving the broader purpose of reassuring the Rising Sun public by his presence.
Then when Spirit and Forta were seeing to business on the base, Tasha produced her handcuffs and they went at it. This was foolish of him, but he thought he had taken sufficient precautions. He cuffed her arms and legs to the bed and enjoyed her--but when she changed personalities, the anchorages gave way and suddenly she clamped his body in a tight scissors grip, and hauled his head down. Fortunately Smilo broke out of his cage and chomped her shoulder, rescuing Hope. That was the end of Tasha; she survived, but defected to Titan. In the question of the lady or the tiger, the tiger had won. Spirit was relieved.
Hope was left with Forta, and as time passed he gradually warmed to her. She was a good and competent woman, and available whenever he should choose.
In about two and a half years, the first new ship fitted with the interstellar process was ready for a test flight. They had been working hard to coordinate it, and production had gone well. But would it work outside the laboratory?
Thus it was that Spirit, Forta, Smilo and Hope were conveyed by shuttleship to the orbiting test ship, and given possession. It was small, intended for a crew of three and a passenger load of four, but Smilo's mass qualified him to be all four passengers. This was a public event; the newsships of all the major planets and many minor ones were present. That was why they were testing it personally: to show their confidence in the system, and to make it as much of a media event as was possible.
“Yes, it is a three-light-hour test flight,” Hope said, in answer to a query from a reporter on the screen.
“From the orbit of Saturn, here, to the orbit of Uranus. We shall be transformed to light, and will then proceed at light speed in the direction the transmitter is aimed, until we are intercepted by the receiver tube at the other end. Three hours to Uranus!”
They knew the System audience would be properly impressed; that trip would ordinarily take three months, by standard travel. In fact, they would arrive there at the same time as the news of their departure did.
“But suppose the alignment is off, and you miss the receiver tube?” the reporter asked.
“Then we go to another star,” Hope replied, smiling. It was a joke, but a grim one; that was exactly what would happen. But there would be no receiving tube deep in the galaxy, so they would travel forever, if the computers did not precisely align transmitter and receiver.
Then it went wrong.
An anonymous ship appeared, and fired a cluster of missiles at them. The Saturn battleship protecting them fired back, lasering the missiles. But they fragmented into larger clusters consisting of a few genuine missiles and thousands of decoys that looked just like the missiles. It was impossible to take them all out before they reached the test ship.
Then a new alarm sounded. “Sub alert! Sub alert!”
Spirit whistled. “The nomens are really after us this time!” she said. “They sneaked a sub in under cover of the missile action.”