
MARQUE AND REPRISAL

By ELIZABETH MOON

BALLANTINE BOOKS  NEW YORK


For all who serve in the armed forces, or in any other capacity in which they discover and must learn to cope with the darkness within, with gratitude for the service, and understanding of the dilemmas. And for Jen, for a rescue.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The Usual Suspects outdid themselves again, from the fencing group to the family. Thanks are also due to the Camp Allen staff, for letting Michael come another year (during which week I got a lot done), and to his special-ed teachers at the high school. The helpers who pitched in with Fox Pavilion (Scott Hawes, Leslie DAllesandro Hawes, Ruta and Ferris Duhon) saved me a lot of work and worry with that project, and freed more writing time. Beth Sikes is due thanks for insightful comments on some of the characters. The terriers in the Leading Rein, in Austin, instructed me on the character traits of Jack Russell terriers. L. D. offered technical expertise on certain aspects of military procedure. S. and G. shared technical expertise in the areas of communications, corporate organization and finance, and related matters. My agent and editor cheered me on when I felt stuck (which, in this book, happened more than once), and Jennifer Davis helped me unstick from a bad musical situation and get into a good one. Several used-book and antiquities shops in London contributed their ambience to a seedy space station. As always, mistakes are mine.
       

CHAPTER ONE
Kylara Vatta looked at the mass of paperwork from Belintas Economic Development Bureau and sighed. The real life of a tradeship captain: paperwork and more paperwork, negotiation with shippers, customers, Customs officials. The life she hadnt wanted, when she chose to enter the Slotter Key Spaceforce Academy, and the life she had fallen back into when she was expelled. Boring. Mundane.
Not that her recent experiences in Sabine had been boring or mundaneterrifying was more like itand no one would want another trip like that.
Except that she did. She remembered very clearly the rush of excitement, the soaring glee of the fight itself, the guilty delight when shed killed Paison and Kristoffson. So either she wasnt sane or . . . or nothing. She thought of the diamonds tucked into her underwear drawer. Not enough to restore her old tub of a ship completely, but enough to take her to somewhere else, somewhere she could make the kind of life she really wanted. Perhaps the mercenaries would accept her violent tendencies; theyd offered a chance. Perhaps someone else. It would annoy her family, but not as much as the truth would hurt them.
No. She had to finish one job at least. Crew depended on her. The ship belonged to her family, as well, and she could not possibly earn enough to buy it away by the next stop or the next. She sighed again, signed another sheet, and stared at the next. All right, then. Take this old tub to Leonora, deliver that cargo, then to Lastway. If she couldnt finance a refit by then, return to the original plan and go home by commercial passenger ship. If she made enough profit, enough to do the refit, she could get that done and bring the ship back to Slotter Key, and then resign. Orshe stared into a distance far beyond her cabin bulkhead. She could send the ship back with someone else. Quincy, for instance, knew enough to run the ship herself.
In the long run, her family would be better off without her. If her father knew how shed felt when she killed . . . no. She had had those nightmares, trying to explain to that gentle man, hoping for his understanding but seeing the horror in his face. Better the smothering, overprotective love that had annoyed her in their last conversation than that horror, that disgust, that rejection. If she went home, he would sense something; he would try to probe, try to get her to confide in him, and eventually he would wear her down. It would be worse than anything else that had happened, to have her father sorry she was ever born.
She should just go away. Years later, maybe, she might be able to explain it to him, and he might be able to accept it. Years might put a safe skin on the raw truth of what she was.
She worked her way through the rest of the forms, then decided to take them to the local postal drop herself. Belinta Station had few amenities, but a walk would be refreshing in itself.
QuincyIm going to drop the paperwork off, she said into the ships intercom.
Find anything to load, or do you want us to start transferring what we left in storage?
I havent found anything yet, Ky said. I may have to go downside for that. Go on and load . . . see if you can get some of the station dockworkers to help with that. Usual rates and all.
She glanced at herself in the mirror and decided she was presentable enough. She needed a new uniformthe one she had left after Sabine no longer had the crisp, perfect tailoring her mother had paid forbut only if she was staying with Vatta. If she joined a mercenary company, she would wear its uniform; if she stayed independent, shed have to find one of her own design. But to drop off forms to be transmitted to a bureaucracy, gray tunic and slacks should be sufficient. She clipped on the Belinta Station access pass.
Outside the ship, Belinta Station hardly bustled with activity. Only three ships were in dock, and the other two were insystem haulers servicing Belintas meager satellite mining operations. On their own dockside, Quincy was talking to a burly man in the ubiquitous green tunic of Belinta dockworkers. Beeah, beside her, held a compad ready to record employee data if Quincys negotiations were successful. Ky walked briskly past two men chatting on a bench, a woman standing by a lift entrance, barely restraining a bouncing toddler, the faded ads for Belintas few and unenticing tourist resorts, and turned left into the wide main corridor. Here were the currency exchanges, banks, communications serviceslocal and ansibleBelinta Port Authority, the hiring hall, and, finally, the postal service. Midshift, few others were in sight. Someone with a briefcase just going into Belinta Savings & Loan, two women chatting as they emerged from Allsystems Exchange.
Beyond were rows of blanked openings to spaces that would someday, if Belinta proved prosperous, house more services, more stores, more people. No traffic at all moved down there.
Ky turned into the postal services entrance and walked up to the counter where a display readNOW SERVING NUMBER SIX EIGHTY-TWO . The only clerk in sight did not look up, but said, Take a number. Typical Belintan courtesy, Ky thought, and looked around for the number generator. By the entrance. She pulled the tab; the counter display changed toNOW SERVING SIX EIGHTY-THREE and the clerk said, Number six eighty-three! in an annoyed tone, as if shed kept him waiting.
This is all for the Economic Development Bureau, Ky said.
To whose attention? asked the clerk.
It doesnt matter. Just the EDB.
It has to be directed to an individual, the clerk said. You cant send mail to the whole bureau.
It says on the form, Ky said, pointing to the block underRETURN TO . No name, just the bureau.
It has to have a name, the clerk said. Its the rules. All mail to government agencies must be directed to an individual.
Ky was tempted to make up a name. Instead, she said, Do you have a directory?
Customers are not allowed to use our confidential directories or communications devices, the clerk intoned. This is a security issue. Customers are advised to identify the correct recipient prior to arriving in the postal service office. Next, please.
Ky glanced behind her. No one stood in line. It wouldnt take a moment to look it up.
Next, please. The clerk still wasnt looking at her. Ky wanted to reach across the counter and wring his skinny neck, but that was the impulse of a moment. This was part of being a tradeship captain; this was the kind of senseless, ridiculous, annoying nonsense she could expect.
Fine, she said instead. Ill deliver it myself. After all, she had to go downside anyway, to find out if there was any cargo worth carrying from this wretched planet.
Glad to be of service have a nice day, the clerk said all in one breath.
Ky went back the way shed come, past the corridor that led to the docking area, past Goodtime Eats and Jerrys Real Food and Quick-snack, where the two women shed seen earlier were head to head over a small table, to the ticket office for the shuttle service. She could not remember just when the daily service left
Two and a half hours, the clerk said. Be at the boarding area a half hour before departure.
That gave time to go back to her ship and change. She turned to go but a screech from the PA system stopped her. Whats that?
I dont know, the clerk said.
Stay wherever you are, a bone-shaking voice said. All personnel stay wherever you are. Emergency crews one and two, to dockside on the double. All personnel . . .
My ship! Ky said. I have to get back
But the ticket office entrance was closed, the metal grate locking with a final chung even as she moved toward it.
You heard em, the clerk said. Were all supposed to stay put.
Well, I cant, Ky said. Open that thing.
Cant, the clerk said. Its automatic, like section seals. Station Security controls it. Unless youve got the override code like one of the emergency crews . . .
The PA announcement had stopped. Fifteen minutes later, the grate slid back into its slot, squeaking a little. Return to normal activity, the PA said. All personnel return to normal activity. Still no announcement of what had prompted the lockdown. Ky hurried back to the docking area. She saw nothing unusual except a Station Security officer standing near Gary Tobais open hold bay talking to Quincy.
What was that about? she asked, coming up to them.
Nothing to concern you, madam, said the officer. Please stand away.
Its the captain, Quincy said, just as Ky said, Its my ship; it concerns me.
Oh. The man looked confused. Youre not in uniform.
It needs cleaning, Ky said. Heres my tag. She held it out, and he scanned it. What happened?
We believe an attempt was made to rob your ship, the man said. Individuals known to us as of dubious character were hired to move cargo, and this individual he nodded at Quincy noticed something untoward with one of the containers and challenged the individual transporting it, suspecting that a substitution had been made. Two individuals ran away; this individual called the alarm.
Theft by casual dockside labor was a constant threat, Ky knew. Did you catch them?
They have not been apprehended yet, the officer said. They made it to the unoccupied spaces. We are confiscating this container, which they tried to put aboard, and we are searching for the legitimate container your crewmember reports missing.
Im sure youll take care of things, Ky said.
We will find you here? the man asked.
No, Ky said. I must go downside to deliver reports to your government. My shuttle leaves She checked the time. Sorry, I must hurry. Quincy will serve as my agent for the duration of my visit down. All right, Quincy?
The old woman nodded. I can do that. Will you be buying cargo?
Quite possibly. I expect to be downside a few days. Ill keep in touch. Ky hurried into the ship. She put on her remaining uniform with the formal captains cape and made two quick calls to arrange lodging at the Captains Guild and an escort to meet her at the downside shuttle terminal. She hesitated, then put several of the diamonds in her pocket. She didnt expect anything to cut off her access to Vatta resources, but just in case, it couldnt hurt to have hard currency.
She made her shuttle connection with a few minutes to spare, and rode downside with a mixed lot of Belinta station workers going home for the weekend break. She cataloged them automaticallyclerical, clerical, equipment operator, service workerand wondered why she bothered. It was the same mix she could find anywhere across the galaxy, no duller here than elsewhere. She spotted her escort at the passenger exit and they exchanged the passwords and ID checks, another familiar routine. The ride into the city passed fields striped with a more vivid green than Belintans ever wore. She recognized the machine working its way across one of the fields as one shed delivered from Sabine, and felt a surge of satisfaction. If she could learn to appreciate the good done by the cargoes she transported, if she could see things from that angle, maybe.

Gerard Avondetta Vatta watched as his pilot loaded his small case in the light plane. They would be back in the city by nightfall; he and Stavros would have a working dinner, and tomorrow he would tackle the delicate political tangle still left by his daughters abrupt departure from the Academy. Now that she was out of danger, now that he had seen her face, had spoken to her, his attention had returned to the reasons behind the obvious reasons.
Why had a Miznarii complained about religious discrimination in the Academy? Miznarii were a difficult sect, to be sure, but theyd served in the Slotter Key Spaceforce for the past thirty years or so without any problems he knew of. And why had Ky been chosen as the vehicle? Her habit of helping lame dogs made her gullible, of course, and yet it did not quite satisfy him. She was a naturally generous person, yes, but he had noticed a streak of hardness in her that boded well for her survival in the cutthroat world of interstellar shipping. When she came back, it might be time to tell her a few things not in the basic Vatta database her implant contained.
The Miznarii . . . were they part of the resurgence of anti-humod feeling some of the Vatta captains had reported? They were certainly foundational purists who refused even the most common enhancements and modifications, such as cranial implants, but he hadnt heard they bothered with offplanet politics. Besides, Ky had little exposure to humods; she could hardly be a target for anti-humod bias.
Then there was InterStellar Communications. Vatta had supported ISC all along, and he fully appreciated what ISC had done for Ky at Sabine, but he wondered if its judgment matched its power. Hed tried to say something about that to Lew Parminer, the last time Lew visited, but Lew had shrugged off his concerns. We pay our researchers enough to keep them quiet, hed said. No muzzling the ox that treads the grain, you know.
Still . . . there were other sources of wealth in the galaxy. Some who would be willing to pay almost any price for the secrets of ISCs labs. Some already funding research, he was sure, trying to duplicate the secrets of ISCs technology, or trying to advance it. The attack on the ansible platforms at Sabine had been crude, but to Gerards mind clearly a test. How strong was ISC, and how fast could it respond?
The pirates, too . . . the information from Sabine was disturbing. An alliance of pirates? Of their agents in legitimate firms? And how did that work? Vatta had thousands of employees on dozens of ships, more dozens of support offices. Was one of them a traitor, feeding information to pirates? So far, the pirates had concentrated on smaller shippers, driving several out of business. According to the Captains Guild figuresif they were accuratethe largest shippers hadnt been hit. But that wouldnt last, he was sure. They would run out of easy targets, and move on to take other prey. The great merchant companies, Vatta among them, had never persuaded the planetary governments that their trade served to combine and create a true interstellar space force capable of policing the spaceways. ISC had the resources, but refused to use them for anything but maintaining its own assets.
Gerard pinged his implant to remind him to call Gracie Lane when he got to the city. Vattas spy service, Stavros called her, though her title on the books was special assistant to the chairman.
Expecting company? the pilot asked suddenly.
What? Gerard turned; his pilot was staring into the limpid afternoon sky.
My implant says the airfields scans have picked up two unidentified aircraft. Coming in from the east.
From the great ocean? That made no sense. The regular inter-island passenger plane for the mainland had already been and gone, and anyway they didnt overfly this end of the island. East of Corleigh, the next inhabited island chain was the Merrill Archipelago, and its air traffic avoided the fifteen-hundred-kilometer gap, flying south to the Rim Reef, then back west along it. Between Merrill and here were only a few uninhabited chunks of rock, recently emerged and sometimes temporary volcanic peaks.
His implant, not linked to the private airfields minimal scans, fought its way through the safety lockouts, but by the time he had access to the airfield scans, he could see the two tiny dots rapidly growing larger and hear their thin whine.
Gaspard, do you have any idea he began; then his implant squealed a warning relayed from the airfield scans. Weapons. Those little flying things had weaponshe whirled, started to run toward the office building beyond the airfield.
No! Sir, get down! Gerard paid no attention, but his pilot, younger and faster, tackled him just short of the grass verge. He hit the ground hard, furious . . . the snarling whine overhead much louder now, coming at him. Fear soured his mouth; he covered his head with his hands, realizing how useless that was.
His implant threw up visuals of the thingswindowless, short-winged, unmannedjust before the flash of light, the noise, the blow of rushing air and debris that rolled him over and over on the tarmac, then the second flash, the second boom and roar much fainter.
He blinked, rolled to his knees. Gaspard gripped his shoulders; the pilot, already on his feet, was pale as cheese curds. Ahead, the office building was a mass of flames and roiling black smoke. And beyond, to the right, where the house, the comfortable home had stooda column of flame and smoke.
Myris! he said. San! He wrenched free of Gaspard and ran to the office first because it was closer. He was aware of Gaspard running beside him, though he could not hear his footsteps through the roaring in his ears and the clamor of the flames.
Someone staggered out, ahead of him, and Gerard slowed to look. One of the clerks, white-rimmed eyes staring out of a smoke-blackened face. What?
Take care of her, Gerard said to his pilot. Call But emergency services for this end of the island were housed in the other end of the building. If they had survived theyd already be at work. Call back to the town. Medical. Call the citywarn Stav Two more figures staggered out, one half carrying the other; Gerard moved toward them.
You have the skullphone, Gaspard yelled to him.
He blinked against the stinging smoke. Yes. He did. Mental fingers fumbling with the shock, he called his brother.
Gerry? Stavros answered. Whats wrongarent you coming in this afternoon?
Evacuate the building, Gerard said.
What?
Someones just dropped bombs on us here on Corleigh, Gerard said. Some kind of drone plane thing. Clear headquarterstheyll hit there next.
I just got an ansible call about some trouble on Allway, Stavros said. Connections?
A burning cinder landed on Gerards hand; he flicked it off. Certainly. Clear the building, damn it.
Ive already hit the alarm, Gerry. Theyre going. It takes time, you know.
They didnt have time. He knew that, even as he closed on the fiery maelstrom and tried to steel himself to go in and help survivors.
Put out an allsystems warning. Let our people know . . .
Right. On it. Are you all right?
Im alive. Ive got to get in there and see if San
Gerrydont. Let the rescue squad
Its gone, Gerard said. As the afternoon breeze pushed the column of smoke to one side, he could see that the bomb had hit on that end of the office building.
Myris?
The house was hit. I dont know. She was going out to swim after lunch; I pray she did. If even the pool would be enough protection. And that still meant the household staff, cleaning up after lunch. He squeezed his eyes shut a moment, and said a short, fervent prayer. StavI heard what you said. Theyre leaving. You leave, too. Get in the bunker.
I will, Stavros said. When Im through. Im sending out the allsystems warning now . . . all right. Im leaving it to a volunteer, Im moving.
It was too hot, the flames burning his face meters from the fire itself. He had just remembered the fuel storage tanks for the emergency vehicles when the next explosion threw him off his feet, onto something sharp and hard, and the next three tossed more of the building his way, debris as effective as any other form of shrapnel.
He was just waking up when Gaspard and old George dug him out of the pile. His left side hurt with every breath. A rib, he suspected, or two. He coughed, and the pain stabbed deep. Smoke still billowed from the wreckage, but most of the flames had blown out . . . stubs of walls, spikes of unidentifiable framing members. With the survivorspitifully fewhe stared at the ruin. Somewhere in there was San, his only son onplanet. Surely dead . . . he turned away, unwilling to look anymore.
Gaspard stayed with him as he staggered toward the house. Here nothing was left but a hole in the ground; the gardens were covered with debris; a single flowering spray of luchis orchids curled up from beneath a window frame, still unwilted. They made their way around to the back, where parts of the roof had breached the garden wall. A mat of debris floated on the water of the big pool . . . shards of wood, sheets of paper, bits of cloth, fronds of jabla still pink with bloom, and wide leaves of the haricond like rafts, each with its own burden of grit and unidentifiable pieces. Some sank as he watched, as the wind ruffled the surface.
He was on his knees on the edge of the pool, mouth stuffed with fear and anguish, unable to call her name, unable to see. Someone was crying, someone was saying her name, someones hands were wet, the water stinging the burns. Someone was pulling at her shoulder, struggling to get her face out of the water, ignoring the red streaks turning pink in the dirty water.
And then he was lying back against someone, someone talking to him, and he could see her lying in the sun as it dimmed and brightened with the whirls of smoke blowing past. Water pooled under her, water stained red, and she did not turn her head to him, did not cry out, did not ask what happened.
Someone put a flask to his lips. He smelled the sharp edge of whiskey he didnt want, but he sipped because his throat was dry and then nearly choked because it was raw, pain almost as sharp as that in his heart. He smelled clean earth and onions, and saw that the hands of the person he lay against were crusted with earth and a shred of green. A gardener. His mind seemed to float, slowly noticing, slowly combining what it noticed.
Then it all came together. Attacks. Explosions. The house and his wife gone. The office and his son gone. He had warned Stavros. He had tohe tried to sit up, and his ribs stabbed him again. The hands behind him helped, lifted.
Theyre dead, he heard himself say. His ears still rang; his voice sounded tinny. Theyre allwhos alive?
Gaspard had the list. Soler, Tina, Vindy from the clerks section. Bonas, who had been in the toilets on the end not directly hit. Gaspard. Old George. All three gardeners. Little Ric, who had been sweeping the front porch and drive, and been blown into the ornamental grove of palms and jablas that the drive circled.
Everyone was watching the sky; he had to do something, start sorting things out.
Water, he heard old George say. Gotta get some water first.
Ill check the tanks, said the gardener whod been supporting him. If you can stand, sir?
He could stand; he had to stand; he still had people depending on him. Go on, he said. Check the tanks. Thank you.
Water. Shelter. Food. Protection from whoever had done this. Transportation. Medical care. He prodded his sluggish mind. Decisions to be made. Make them.
By the time the islands town-based emergency evacuation system arrived, one of the survivors had already died. Gerard struggled to talk to the officials who arrived with the rescue squad. His ears still rang; he could barely stand, and they were asking him why the attack came, as if he knew. As if it were his fault. Why didnt the fire/rescue service respond? Why were they housed in the office building anyway? Why had they put the reserve fuel storage underneath? Why, why, why?
His implant offered no answers, either. Who had done this? How had they done it? More aircraft arrived, full of law enforcement investigators, some he knew and some hed never seen before. Someone brought a scorched chair, blown from the office, for him to sit in. Aircraft departed, taking away his injured employees. The afternoon passed; the hills shadow stretched across the airfield. Someone looked him over, advised hospitalization; he refused. His mind felt numb, smoke-blurred, but he could not leave, not yet.
Then the parrot-squawk of a voice he knew penetrated the blur. Get him out of here, you idiots. Hes a target. The voice came nearer. GerryGerry look at me. Focus.
She looked no less dotty than she had looked for the past twentythirtyyears, her graying hair unruly in the late-afternoon breeze, her print silk dress, her strings of beads and jangling bracelets, but her eyes were bright.
Gracie, he mumbled.
You look horrible, she said. Gerry, get up.
I dont know if I But he was on his feet, supported again by someones shoulder under his arm, following the quick clatter of Gracies incongruous high heels across the tarmac. Pain stabbed his side with every step. I cant leave, he said to her back. MyrisSanthe others
Theyre dead, she said over her shoulder. Youre alive. You need to stay that way. We need you, Gerry.
A cold chill ran down his spine that had nothing to do with his injuries. Stavros?
Later. And to his helpers: Get him in, get that oxygen hooked up.
He felt himself heaved up into the plane; pain so great he almost passed out turned his whole left side to white heat. He panted in his seat, let his eyes sag shut as he felt the cool flow of oxygen under his nose.
Breathe, he heard Gracie say. And keep breathing, damn it. He felt the craft vibrate under him, engines starting, the bumping of taxiing for takeoff sending knifelike flashes of pain through his side, his shoulder, and then the lurch as they took off.
Where? he asked, that one word exhausting him.
Someplace safe, I hope, Gracie said. He heard her sigh, a little grunt as she shifted in her own seat. If there is such a place. We thought the headquarters bunker level . . .
Not? he asked.
Just lie still, Gerry. Nothing to do now but live till we land.
Dont let them . . . , he managed. Then some salty fluid filled his mouth; he choked, swallowed, and nearly heaved it up.
Damn, Gracie said again, more quietly. He felt the oxygen mask pulled aside, and something soft wiped the corner of his mouth.
Get the implant, he said. His mind cleared briefly. Oxygen would do that. His implant, Stavros implant. Whoever had done this must not get the master database. Gracie . . . take implant. Command database.
I know, dear, she said. Dear? Gracie had called him dear? The same Grace who had once told him, when they were both much younger, that he would be on his deathbed before she would praise him?
M hurt, he said, loathing the weakness and confusion in his voice.
You are, Gracie said. Well try to get a doctor to you, once were safe. Not a hospital, so dont exhaust yourself explaining. She sighed again. Gerry, Stavros is dead. Headquarters was hit; the bunkers didnt hold. Someone knew enough about them. He heard a high-pitched noise, something like metal on metal. Someone wants to destroy Vatta, Gerry. You have to hang on.
No doubt in her voice. He could do what she said, until she doubted. He breathed in spite of the pain, in spite of the weakness that crept up from his legs, the dark cloud that tried to cover him.
Questions remained. Who? Why? How?

Gracie Lane Vatta forced herself to ignore the medical team working on Gerard, forced herself to concentrate instead on the attack, on the methods and the meanings. Unmanned drones; the airfields security system had produced identifiable visual and internal data scans. Military weapons, and not a type used by Slotter Keys own planetary forces, or so they insisted. Satellite scans had revealed the origin: Bone Island, an uninhabited, barren, rocky volcanic spur 430 kilometers east of Corleigh. Someone wasor had beenon Bone Island long enough to launch the drones. One of her contacts in the government was even now going back through scans from the previous days, to see when and how they had arrived. Andthough she doubted this was possibleto find out who they were.
At corporate headquarters, the attack had been different, but equally devastating. Up from the utility tunnels below the city . . . boreholes to the foundations of Vatta headquarters, boreholes around the outside of the bunkers, bunkers reinforced to withstand earthquake, storm, even attack from atop and collapse of the building atop them.
But not explosives applied directly to the bunkers, to the sides, to the floors. It would have taken, at shortest estimate, weeks to bore those holes, place those charges.
Until this, shed thought the worst threats to Vatta were the growing menace of pirates on the tradeways and possibly an assassination attempt against Gerards daughter Ky in retaliation for her actions in the Sabine conflict. She had just completed a report on piracy, which shed planned to present to Gerard and Stavros sometime in the coming week. She had, weeks ago, alerted all senior staff to the increased possibility of assassination attempts. An attack of this magnitude had not even occurred to her, and she was furious with herself for not seeing it coming.
The aircraft they were in, escorted by Slotter Key military aircraft that did not make her feel as safe as she would wish, flew not to the capital but to her private residence near Corleigh Town. She had balanced the greater protection the government already provided to the capital with the vulnerability of several hours over open water . . . with the ease of tracking aircraft from space . . . with Gerards condition.
Who had done this? Why? And why do it this way, an open declaration of war not only against Vatta, but also against Slotter Key? What was the message here? Would there be more attacks, and when, and where?
Her implant, customized for her work, laid out for her the information so far obtained, in the usual matrix. What resources were implied by the choice of weapons, the choice of launch site. What conditions were necessary for the attack to succeed, what were the pinch points in the execution where it might have been frustrated. Which known enemies of Vatta or Slotter Key had such resources.
Working through the usual routine of analysis held off, for the time being, the shock she knew was hovering just overhead. It wasnt supposed to be like this. These things didnt happen in real life, to ordinary people. She knew better. She had seen war before; she knew its terrible thirst for death, for the destruction of beauty.
By the time the plane landed, she knew this attack could not have occurred without help from somewhere in the Slotter Key government. Her anger spread from herself and the attackers to that as-yet-unnamed traitor. Someone had kept Spaceforce from reporting a shuttle dropping from a ship in orbit, or someone had deep-sixed the report. Someone had kept the satellite surveillance from reporting that installation on Bone Island. Someonesomeone here, within her reachhad connived at the attack, had wanted to destroy her family, her life.
Gracie Lane Vatta smiled to herself, a smile that old enemies, now long dead, would have remembered. The enemy had won the initiative. The enemy had caused great damage. No doubt the enemy was dancing or laughing or in some other way enjoying the triumph. But Gracie Lane Vatta would wipe that smile off the enemys face, stop that dance in its tracks, stuff the laugh back down the enemys throat. She could not do it all by herself, and her resources at present were limited. But at least the traitor or traitors on Slotter Key . . . those she could reach and those she would take care of, whatever else happened.
       
       
CHAPTER TWO
The voice in Gammis Tureks earbug said what he expected to hear: unexpected attack on our citizens. Outrageous. Cant be tolerated
But they would tolerate it. They would do nothing effective, while pouring out torrents of words, because they knew what he knew, that they could do nothing. Their fancy Spaceforce, so shiny and proud, could do nothing because they had no way to operate outside their own system. Their privateers, so hated and feared, could do nothing because they had no command structure. Slotter Key had dealt with the rest of the sector in its own way: arrogantly. A combination of cheeseparing cautionusing privateers for outsystem operations cost less than funding a real space navyand exuberant flouting of the rules, such as they were, that governed such uses. No other planetary system would come to their aid just because one of their richest corporations had suffered a terrorist attack.
Time for turnabout. Time for reversals. Time for Slotter Key to realize that, just like Vatta Transport, it didnt have any recourse. It might be only a side issue in a greater war, but it was a side issue that gave considerable satisfaction to some of its allies. He didnt doubt that in five or six years, the Slotter Key Spaceforce could be a force to reckon with, but it wasnt now, and now was all that mattered.
You listen to me, he growled at the voice; it stopped in midword. You will do nothing. The time has changed, and Vatta serves us well as a warning to others. Stay away from them. Give them nothing. Anyone near Vatta will fall in the same catastrophe.
But theyre our
Theyve supported you and your party, of course we know that. They think you owe them something. Well, it wont be the first promise youve ever broken. Gammis had a list, in case it should become useful.
But
If you move against us, Gammis said, we will destroy not just Vatta, but Slotter Key, as well. We have the ships. We have the weapons. Ask your Spaceforcego ahead. Theyll tell you. We have many allies who would enjoy seeing your presidential palace a smoking hole just like Vatta headquarters, who would be delighted if your people died of plagues or starvation. He paused; the jittering voice in his ear said nothing. He let his voice soften. And there is, of course, something positive to be gained by freeing yourself of Vattas trade domination. If Vatta takes the fall, trade will not be interdicted . . . its just that someone else will profit from their tik plantations . . .
Silence continued. Gammis counted seconds. They would take the bait, but how long would they think about it?
Vatta, the voice said, this time calmly, has done nothing to deserve this. If you had attacked privateers
Hitting the innocent is a more effective warning, Gammis said. Not that Vatta was entirely innocent. They had stupidly supported InterStellar Communications all these years; they had reported suspicious ships and persons . . . and besides, it was one of their own who betrayed them, who urged that they be made an example. In the longer plan, in the greater scheme of things, that one would surely fall since he could not be trusted, but in the meantime he was useful, worth doing a favor for. You will do nothing, Gammis said again. If you want your government to stand.
I dont know how were going to explain . . . , the voice said.
Youll figure something out. Gammis cut off the connection.
Will they behave? his second in command asked. Or will they leak?
Theyll leak in time, Gammis said. Vattas got supporters on their own world. But they have no way to spread the word. They dont realize it yet . . . He chuckled, and his second in command grinned back at him. This was the way they should have done it from the first. The Sabine mess had been a big mistake; Gammis conveniently ignored the fact that he had voted to blow the ansible platforms. This time . . . this time they had a better plan. He knew the coalition wouldnt last forever, but for now, for the length of time it would take to bring down InterStellar Communications and consolidate the power they needed, it would hold.
They didnt have to kill all the Vattas, whatever that idiot said. They only had to kill enough, at once or within a short interval, enough to shock and terrify the rest: Vatta and non-Vatta shippers, Slotter Key and other planetary governments. No more little bangs, no more sporadic raids. One big paralyzing, terrifying, enigmatic explosion . . . He grinned wider. He could just imagine the frantic scrambling, the panic spreading through Captains Guildhalls, government offices, corporate headquarters, all across this sector. Everyone trying to figure out who, and why, and what would happen next. He and his allies were the only ones who knew the answer.
By the time they figured it out, if they ever did, it would be too late. He knew all about Slotter Keys President; the President didnt even know his name. Someday everyone would know it.

Ky checked in at the Captains Guild and took her duffel up to her room while her escort waited. It took only a few minutes to unpack and freshen up. She would take the paperwork to the Economic Development Bureau first, and then pay her courtesy visit to the Slotter Key legation. With any luck, she could have the afternoon free to start looking for cargo. Shed downloaded a list of recent shipments, but Belintas exports didnt match well with her understanding of what would sell at Leonora. Lastway was a mystery; from the records, its markets went up and down dramatically, depending on what preceding ships had delivered.
At the Economic Development Bureau, she handed the paperwork to a bored clerk and received the confirmation of the final funds deposit in the Vatta account. She was almost back to the legation when her escort turned to her.
Captain, theres an urgent message from the Captains Guild. Your ship wants to contact you, and you have no implant.
Call the legation and tell them I may be delayed, Ky said. Well go to the Captains Guild.
Only a few minutes later, she was in a secure communications booth in the Captains Guild lobby, talking to Quincy aboard Gary Tobai . Slow down, she said finally. I thought it was cargo thieves and now youre telling me its sabotage?
The station police say it is. Was going to be. They found our cargothe original, part of the consignment to Leonorain a utility closet. Theyre sure its the same; its got the consignment IDs on the tape. But what was in the container that fellow loaded was a time-delayed explosive. They said it could have blown up the ship. And part of the station if wed still been docked. If I hadnt noticedand I almost didnt, he was just a dockworker, I thoughtCaptain, we could have been killed!
But you did spot him, and we werent, Ky said. Her mind whirled. Sabotage was not unknown, and Paisons allies might consider that they had a motive. They knewanyone who followed the news stories would knowwhere she was going when she left Sabine system. But Belinta was an unlikely place for an ambush, shed have thought. Well out of the way, small, little traffic, an insular, suspicious culture. It would have been more cheaply and easily done somewhere else.
They want us to leave, Quincy went on. For our own safety, theyre saying, but I can tell theyre scared.
So was Quincy, by her face and voice, and no wonder. A good idea, Ky said. How close were we to finishing loading?
Another six to eight hours.
It will take me that long to get back up to the station, Ky said. Unless I charter a flight. Would that be reimbursable as a legitimate expense, under the circumstances? Ill let the consul know somethings come up, and forget looking for cargo.
Dont forget to report this to headquarters, Quincy said.
Headquarters?
All material threats against Vatta shipsyoull need to give them an ansible call right away. So if its more than local, they can warn other ships.
That seems a bit extreme, Ky said. I think its probably something to do with Sabine; it shouldnt affect anyone else.
If you had the Vatta implant, it would be in emergency procedures, Captain. Piracy, sabotage, anything like that. Call headquarters immediatelyI would have, if I hadnt been able to raise you within the hour.
You still could Ky began.
No, its captains responsibility; theyll want to hear from you.
I should wait until Im up there and have the report from the police, Ky said. Theyll ask questions I cant answer
Immediate notification is the priority, Quincy said. Its in the implants.
If she did what she planned, shed never have the Vatta implant. Wrong time to think about that, though. All right. Ill call right away, then see how soon I can get back up there. Once youve got the ship loaded, button us up. Will the police put a guard on our dock space?
Yes. Theres one out there now.
That was a help. She hoped that was a help.
Ill be there as soon as I can, she said, and signed off. Now for the ansible call home. Belintas ansible-access procedures worked normally, the status lights blinking appropriately through their sequences. She had no idea what time it would be at Vatta corporate headquarters, but it didnt matter. They had someone on duty in the communications suite at all hours. The green lights blinked three times, and the screen lit, but showed no image.
Vatta Headquarters, a voice said. This call originated on Belinta. You are Captain Kylara Vatta, is that correct?
Yes, Ky said. This didnt sound like standard procedure. Are you transmitting visual? This screen is blank.
Link your implant for urgent download, the voice said without answering her question.
I dont have an implant, Ky said. What is it? I was going to report a threat
Uh . . . go ahead. Report the threat. She heard voices behind the voice she was listening to, as if the sound shielding werent on. She couldnt quite hear what they were saying.
Unknown persons posing as dockworkers attempted to load an explosive device onto my ship, Ky said. The ship is safe and undamaged, but they got away.
Understood, the voice said. We have a situation here, too, Captain. We are sending a warning to all ships; there appears to be the possibility of multiple threats to Vatta personnel.
What kind of threats? Ky asked.
I . . . am not at liberty to say, the voice said.
Could you connect me to my father, please? Ky said. She would find out more from him than from some communications tech. Gerard Vatta? Or my uncle?
Uh . . . Im afraid thats not possible at this time, the voice said.
Why? Ky asked. Hes got his skullphone.
He is . . . A pause. He is temporarily unavailable. Your message will be forwarded immediately and Im sure he will want to speak with you.
Cold swept over her. Whats wrong? she asked. You said a threatwhats happened?
Captain Another pause. It is not for me to say. There is a Situation.
Are the senior officers all right? Ky asked.
I believe so, yes. Something in the voice conveyed doubt, not assurance.
But you arent sure
Its the The screen blanked, and the status light went to yellow, blinking.SIGNAL LOST. DO YOU WANT TO RECONNECT? Y/N appeared instead. Ky sat back; she could feel her pulse racing. Whatever had happened had happenedinstantaneous communication or no, whatever it had been was over. She could do nothing about it. She would try a direct call to her fathermuch more expensive, but at the moment money didnt matter.
She cracked open the booth door to let her security escort know that she would be making more calls, but before the door was fully open she saw a trio of masked figures push through the inner door of the lobby, weapons out. Her escort, standing at the desk chatting with the assistant manager, whirled, but too late: he was dead and so was the assistant manager before either of them could push a panic button. Ky ducked back into the booth, but did not latch the door; that would turn on theENGAGED light. Instead, she held very still.
What room? she heard one of the intruders ask. A mumble, then the same voice said, Upstairs. An instant of relief. She eased around to peek out the door. One of the figures was crouched over the bodyguard, going through his pockets. No chance then to run out the door and get help. She could almost feel the blow in her back if she tried it. But once they found she wasnt in her room theyd search the place, including this booth.
The booth held nothing she could use as a weapon. The booth could not be used for local callsand would not function anyway without the door being latched, at which the telltale light would come on. All this ran through her mind, a cascade of logic that came down to one conclusionand she was already in motion when she became aware of it.
The masked figure frisking the dead guard had his back to her at the momentfive strides took her across the lobby. Three before he noticed anything and whirled, but she was already moving so fast that his hasty shot missed, and she was on him. Primary disarmthe weapon flew out of his hand and skidded across the floor. Her chop at his throat met a hard surface; he wore armor under his clothes. He uncoiled a vicious kick; Ky evaded it, whirling and noticing the movement of his left hand toward his side. The next weaponinstead of trying to intercept that movement, she dove toward the dead guard, snatching his weapon as part of a sideways roll, and shot her attacker square through his mask before he had his weapon all the way out. She recognized the stab of emotion that passed through her, sharp and sweet; a wave of guilt followed: Not again. She shook it away.
Seconds had passed. They would be at her floor now. They would be opening the door. And how many were left outside, in case she managed to escape and try to flee? If shed had an implant, she could have called for help by now. Ky reached over to the reception desks outside line. It hummed, and she punched in the local emergency code. A faint rhythmic buzz . . . three, four, five. Behind the reception desk was the officeshe hadnt been in it, but brief glimpses when the clerk came in and out suggested the usual work space, which might or might not have another exit. The corridor to the left led to the dining room, and from there to the kitchens and presumably another exit, which might also be covered by the assassins. But offices, dining rooms, and kitchens had lots of hiding places. Which . . . ?
The lift hummed suddenly, then clanked into motion. The assassins? Or some innocent bystander? For the first time she thought about the other possible captains in residence. Twobut they might or might not be in their rooms. Around the desk, a glance at the assistant manager, a crumpled heap on the floor, at the monitor. The lift stopped, but now she heard footsteps on the stairs. No time to make it to the corridor. She ducked into the office with its desks, cabinets, shelves stocked with office supplies. Another door led into a smaller room that seemed to function as a storeroom for linens and cleaning supplies. She moved into it, checked that nothing had a reflective surface to reveal her to someone outside, and flattened against a stack of toilet paper cartons.
Voices outside. Piets dead . . . somebodys given the alarm.
Stupid bitch wasnt in her roomcould be her?
Doesnt matter. No timewe go now.
Piet?
Leave him. Come on.
Footsteps across the lobby floor, the squeak of the inner door opening, then hissing shut, a clear invitation to someone in hiding to emerge. Ky stayed where she was, counting to herself. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty. Something scraped, thumped faintly. The hair on her arms stood up; she held her breath. She hadnt felt nausea this time when she killed, but now her stomach clenched. The outer door of the office swung suddenly, banged against the wall.
Hey! Anybody home? Whats going on here?
It was not the officials. A different voice, but not the officials because she would have heard the front door.
I seeeee youuu . . . , the voice mocked. Better come out, sweetheart . . .
Ky held still. She could not be seen; she knew she could not be seen. She heard a breath drawn in, let out.
If youre here, bitch, well get you later, the voice said, now quietly serious. But I dont think she is, it went on, this time clearly a comment-to-self. And here come the puds. The footsteps retreated. She dared not peek out to see where the man went, but a moment later she heard a cry from the direction of the kitchen.
Now the wheeze of the front doors, banging, stomping, clattering, several loud voices. Ky slid out of the storage room, her knees shaking with reaction, and looked out of the office to see a startled man in uniform staring at her.
Freeze! he yelled, bringing his weapon to bear. Ky stopped. Drop the weapon!
But Im the one
Drop the weapon!
Now there were five of them, their own weapons leveled at her. She dropped the guards weapon.
Get on the ground!
But Im the one who called
Now! Face down! On the ground!
Im the one who called you! Ky said. They were trying to kill me!
Get. On. The. Ground.
It was infuriating. How could they think shed done it? Though she had killed the one. With a sigh, Ky got down on the ground. Feet came closer. It occurred to her, just as the feet came into her range of vision, that maybe these werent the police.
Who are you? Ky asked. I hope youre official.
Were official all right, a voice said overhead. Just dont give me any trouble now.
There were three of them that I saw, Ky said. All with masks
Hands behind your back, the voice said.
Ky complied, in the hope they would finally listen to her when they had her trussed up. Instead, she was rolled over, propped against the wall, and told to stay put. The hand shed whacked against the assassins armor throbbed unpleasantly. At least now she could see . . . men in dark green uniforms with markings she didnt recognize on cuffs and collars. They were hunched over the dead clerk, with more beyond the desk.
One of them came to her again. Is this your weapon? he asked, holding out the one shed taken from her bodyguard.
Noit belonged to my security escort.
Yourshe was working for you? Then why did you take his gun?
He was dead at the time, Ky said. And the other one was trying to kill me.
The man looked at her sourly. So you say A voice from down the corridor interrupted him.
Shem! Heres another one!
The man left. Ky fretted. No one ever seemed to consider that the person being restrained might be innocent. Her instructors had commented on that fact when telling cadets how to behave if they were ever stopped by law enforcement. Shed already violated rules one and two: dont be where trouble happens, and never be caught with a weapon in your hand.
And here she sat, immobilized. What if the assassins came back? Her muscles twitched; she took a long breath, trying to calm herself.
The man reappeared. You say youre the one who called us?
Yes, Ky said.
When? Why?
Because of the attack, Ky said. I had seen them kill my bodyguard and the clerk, and then
Them? How many?
Three on the inside, Ky said. I was over there in the combooth She gestured with her chin. when they came in. My bodyguard and the clerk were at the reception desk, chatting. The assassins shot them both, then two went upstairs. Looking for me, probably. The other was searching the guards body. She stopped for a moment to get her thoughts in order.
Go on.
I couldnt use the combooth because the light would come on and theyd know where I was.
Why do you think they were after you? You, particularly?
I dont know, Ky said. My engineer had just called to let me know that the fake cargo container put on my ship was explosive. Your colleagues up on the station can tell you more about that. Should she even mention the call to Vatta headquarters, the lost connection? Yes. I had called my company headquarters, Ky said. Apparently some group is targeting Vatta Transport. They were about to put out a warning. Then the connection failed, so I dont know any more than that. Anyway, I couldnt use the combooth, and I couldnt see how to get out without him seeing me.
Why didnt you use your implant? the man asked.
I dont have one, Ky said. Head injurythey had to take it out and it cant be replaced for six standard months.
Ah. So . . . you tried to escape andyoure asking me to believe a trained assassin couldnt hit you?
No. I thought if I rushed him I could knock him out, maybe. The policeman looked at her with obvious disbelief. It could work, Ky said. And I didnt have a weapon.
Did it work?
No. I surprised him, but he was wearing body armor under his mask. He threw me off, I landed near the guards weapon, and snatched itand got off a shot before he did.
Hmmm. He looked thoughtful.
Shem, these wounds were made by different weapons, said one of the others. The guard and the clerk were both hit with Staysil rounds, and so were the cook and the helper in back; the masked one with a Conroy.
Staysil rounds. Sounds like the Edmunds crew, the policeman said. He looked at Ky and shook his head. Someone wants you dead very badly, if theyre after you. Edmunds and company are not just trouble, but expensive trouble. He sighed heavily, and reached over to release Kys arms. Dont try to run. We did not need this. Diplomatic mess, too. Youll want to see the Slotter Key consul, no doubt. And I dont suppose you know why anyone would be after Vatta captains?
No, Ky said, rubbing her wrists. She glanced at the painful hand. Swollen and darkening. She hoped she hadnt broken a bone. I dont. I need to get back to my ship
Not yet, he said. You did, after all, kill that man. He cocked his head toward the outer door. He may be a criminal, and he may have tried to kill you, but we have to determine whether, under our laws, this excuses your killing him. You can count on at least overnight, Captain Vatta. You may inform your crew, but we will monitor the conversation. You may have access to the Slotter Key legation, of course, but with an escort we provide. Sinceif it is the Edmunds crewyour life is in danger, we will provide protective custody.
Ky tried not to glare. Youre going to put me in jail because I was attacked?
Not exactly. Because you killed someone and you were attacked. And not exactly jail, but someplace safer than the Captains Guild.
Lets go see what they did to my room, Ky suggested. My luggage
Fine. But Ill go with you. Do not try to touch anything. It would be against your best interest. Nodding to the others, he let her lead the way upstairs.
They used the stairs, Ky said. And I think also the lift. She was carefully not touching the stair rail.
They will have worn gloves, the man said. He sounded glum.
In her room, the bedcover was missing, and her empty duffel lay open in a corner. The closet was open; her clothes were gone; all the drawers were empty. In the bathroom, all the toiletries were gone as well.
The policeman grunted. Typical, he said after a moments look around. They want everything to check for DNA and anything else that might be useful. I hope you didnt leave them something juicy.
Kys stomach churned again. Being physically attacked was one thing, but having her things takenall of themwas in some ways more upsetting. Thevaluablesare in the safe downstairs. If they didnt break into that.
No, he said. He had pulled on gloves; he opened the drawers all the way, looking into them for anything left behind, opening the cabinets in the bathroom. So youre a prudent traveler . . . I suppose one expects that from spaceship captains.
I wasnt prudent enough to put a set of underwear in the safe, Ky said ruefully. I hope you have a good fresher in the jail.
Im sure someone can obtain the necessary items for you, he said.
It doesnt make sense, Ky said. Surely someone would notice men in masks carrying a bundle that looks like a bedspread . . .
I doubt they carried it far, the man said. Or they had something else to put things in and just used the spread to make it easy to collect them.
I almost came up here to make the call, Ky said. Her knees felt shaky again. I thought, walking back, My feet hurt and Ill just go upstairs and kick my shoes off. But the combooth in the lobby was closer. If I had come up here Id have had no warning . . .
Sit down, Captain Vatta, the man said. Youre looking pale. Ky sat on the bed, which was nearer than the chair. She told herself to get a grip, but tremors shook her. A natural reaction . . . though it took you rather longer to get to it than most.
I . . . thought I was all right, Ky said. Her hand still hurt where shed hit the mans armor.
I think I will call your legation, if you permit, on your behalf, he said. He sounded almost friendly now. Ky tried to focus, tried to grasp why, but she couldnt.
Thank you, she said. The tremors eased, but she still felt cold and sick.
The consul appeared only minutes later. Captain Vatta, the captain has explained what he understands happened. How can we be of service?
She could not imagine asking the consul to go buy her some underwear, and at the moment the lack of underwear loomed larger in her mind than anything else.
Ill be all right, she said, aware that the statement made incomplete sense at best. The ship needs to know.
I think shes in shock, she heard the policeman say. I thought at first . . . but then she went pale and started shaking.
Reaction, said the consul. Youre a bit pale yourself, you know. Ky could not think of the consuls name. His face seemed to leap nearer. Captaindo you know my name?
Im sorry, Ky said. But no. She should remember it, she knew that much. She had called him from Belinta Station when she arrived; theyd discussed the Sabine situation. She had arranged to meet him at the legation this very morning. But everything had gone fuzzy at the edges and all she had the energy to do was sit there.
Then the policeman canted slowly to one side and collapsed. People shouted, ran to and fro, and Ky watched it all with a detachment that she knew was unnatural, until someone picked her up and put her on a litter and she slid into sleep.
       
       
CHAPTER THREE
The room smelled of familiar tropical flowers, lush and spicy. A floral print on the bed, on the dressing table with its low bench, on the lamp shade. Walls of soft peach, with a faint cream stripe. Ky lay back against the piled pillows, wondering where she was. The last she remembered was the Captains Guild . . . men with masks and guns . . . police . . . then it came back, all a rush of memory. She blinked. This wasnt a jail, she was sure of that. Shed never seen this room before, but the fragrance, familiar since childhood, suggested the legation and its garden of Slotter Key natives.
Before she thought to reach for the comunit on the bedside table, someone shouldered the door open and entered with a tray, a stout woman in a flowered tunic. She brought the tray to the bedside and began offloading dishes onto the bedside table.
Ah, good, youre awake. Youll be wondering where you are and what happened, the woman said. Slotter Key legation. The doctor wants to talk to you and so does the consul and the Belinta police. Im Carla, by the way, and youre supposed to take your time eating as much as you want before anyone tries to talk to you. Doctors orders. She poured out a cup of tea; Ky hitched herself more upright in the bed, took it, and sipped.
Tell me what happened at the Captains Guild, Ky said. Upstairs, I mean.
My feet hurt, Carla said, ignoring the question. She plumped down in the upholstered chair and kicked her shoes off. Im not supposed to talk to you about what happened; Im supposed to be sure youre really awake and have had something to eat. She laid her head back and sighed. Ky stared a moment then picked up one of the pastries and started to bite into it. Then she stopped. Whatever had happened after the part she remembered, someone had tried to kill hernot once, but twice, counting the attempt to smuggle explosives onto her ship. And she was supposed to eat and drink whatever she was brought?
She put the cup down; it chinked on the saucer, and the womanCarlaopened her eyes. Sorrycan I get you anything?
How do I know youre who you say you are?
Excuse me?
Ky realized, as she sat up and threw the covers back, that she was wearing someone elses nightshirt. Shed never owned one in lavender and green, and besides it was hugely too big. Her head spun for a moment, then cleared.
You say this is the Slotter Key legation
Yes, of course. Where else would it be?
And yourea legation employee?
The woman drew herself up, red patches coming up on her cheeks, and gave Ky a hostile glance. I am the consuls wife, she said. Carla Maria Inosyeh.
Ky felt her face heating up. Im so sorry, she said. You werentI didnt meet you before, at the dinner.
I was indisposed. An impatient movement in the chair, then the woman fished for her shoes and put them back on. And before you ask, yes, this is my bedroom youre in, and my nightdress youre wearing. I was told your things had been stolen.
Im sorry, Ky said again. I didnt knowI am confusedthey tried to kill me, and I was afraid
The womans expression softened. I suppose its understandable. Its been a very strange day, I hear. But perhaps you should see Parinmy husband the consulnow. I will have to tell him later that I managed to frighten the redoubtable Captain Vatta. She actually smiled as she went to the door.
The tea must be doing its work; Ky felt more solidly there than she had a few minutes before. Wait, she said. I believe you. Pleasestay, sit down, and Ill eat She picked up the pastry again and bit into it. It was delicious.
If you insist, Carla said, this time with a genuine smile. My husband has been telling me about your trip to Sabine. The news reports of the attacks there were terrifying. I cant imagine someone blowing up ansible platforms. She glanced up as if she could see through the roof to Belintas ansible station.
It was scary, Ky said, through another pastry, this one meat-filled. She felt better with every bite.
I cant understand why anyone would attack ansible platforms, Carla said. It only makes ISC angry, and Parin always says theyre the glue that holds the galaxy together.
Ky, her mouth full, nodded but said nothing.
And you were captured by mercenaries, the news report said.
Yes, Ky said, wiping her mouth. But they were polite mercenaries. When they werent almost killing her, but that had been an accident.
Did you really kill the ringleaders? Carla asked.
Yes, Ky said. And I suspect thats why someones trying to kill me, in retaliation. She decided that one more pastry wouldnt hurt and picked one up.
I can tell youre feeling better, Carla said. More color in your cheeks. The clothes you had on have been freshened, if you feel able to get up now.
Yes, Ky said. I do . . . but Id still like to know what happened. Did I just . . . faint?
A contact poison, Carla said, with the satisfied tone of someone who knows something unusual. That policeman with you fell over like a cut tree while the consul was in the room; you were pale and turning gray, Parin said.
A contact poison! On top of the shooting?
Yes. They didnt leave much to chance, is the way the consul put it. It penetrated ordinary gloves as if they werent there. Ky remembered, now, the policeman pulling open drawers, lifting the sheets of the bed, touching this surface and that. Then they found the bedspread bundled into a trash container, and the poison was all over that. Three of them are down with it. You only sat on the bedthe poison didnt penetrate your clothes that well. The antidote worked quickly; you were only unconscious a couple of hours. The doctors off working on the others.
So . . . did they catch the assassins?
No. Theyre searching, of course, but except for the one you shot, the gangs all disappeared.
Is my ship all right? My crew? Has anything else happened up there?
Theyre fine, Carla said. No attacks up there at all, and shuttle travels been suspended, so no assassination teams can get there from here. Theres a com console in my sitting room, just outside here. Then theres a policeman who would like to speak to you; he has assured the consul that they have no more interest in arresting you. When their people went down from the contact poison, they decided that your having shot one of the assassins wasnt so bad after all.
I need to check with the ship. Can you hold the policeman off that long?
Of course, Carla said. This is Slotter Key territory, after all. She winked. Take your time getting dressedthrough that door there.
Quincy, predictably, was appalled at what had happened, and worried, and wanted Ky to come back immediately.
Im safe here, Ky said. Im not going out, I promise. Theyve suspended shuttle flights, you know.
Yes, but for youcant you get a charter?
Probably not, not until tomorrow anyway. Are you satisfied with the police guard on our dockside?
Theyve doubled it, Quincy said. I think were secure. But you
Im fine, Ky said again. I got hold of Vatta headquarters before this happened . . . Should she tell Quincy everything, or would it just make it worse? There does appear to be a general threat; Ill give you the details when Im back on the ship. And if Im stuck down here for days, I might as well see what I can do about cargo.
Cargo! Theres your life to consider! Dont you dare go out!
I wont go out. I can do business from here; the consuls helping me arrange things. I wont say dont worry, but dont lose sleep.
Quincy sniffed and signed off.

The policeman who interviewed Ky had the same dour expression as the others shed met. We are convinced that you were the innocent victim of an attack, and that your killing the assassin was self-defense, he said. Under our laws, this is legal, and anyway the dead man was someone we wanted to arrest on other charges. Saved us the cost of a trial. Even so, we cannot recommend that you resume unrestricted travel in the city, or your residence at the Captains Guild.
I cant stay cooped up here forever, Ky said. My ship is already under threat
We think you could be escorted safely to the orbital station, the policeman said. But an extended stay . . . we understand you were seeking outbound cargo . . .
Not after the attempt to sabotage my ship and kill me. I want to leave as soon as possible. If for some reason I had been detained here, then Id ask the consul to help me make some contacts to seek cargo. But if I can leave now
Are you well enough to travel?
Yes, Ky said. The doctor advises twenty-four hours of observation, but surely overnight is enough.
Perhaps a chartered shuttle flightwe would of course validate the crew
Sounds good to me, Ky said. The only goods shed seen explained why Belinta had a deplorable trade balance.
When the policeman excused himself, she considered going out to find the consul, but decided to rest just a few minutes; her head felt strange again. She lay down on top of the covers. When she woke, some unknown time later, someone had covered her with a knitted shawl and set another tray on the bedside table; steam rose in curls from the teapot.
Ky wasnt very hungry; she was struggling with her reaction to the days events. Her annoyance with the postal clerk seemed far away now, almost as if it had been someone else. Someone had tried to blow up her ship. Someone had tried to kill her. Something had happened during her call to Vatta headquarters. She had to think those were related, and the only thing she could think of was whatever criminal group Paison and Kristoffson had been part of, taking vengeance for killing them.
She started when she heard the sound of the door handle turning, but relaxed when she saw the consul. He came in, shutting the door behind him. How are you feeling? he asked.
Much better, Ky said.
Thats good, he said, and sighed. His expression did not lighten; her stomach clenched.
Whats wrong? she asked.
Weve lost contact with Slotter Key, Consul Inosyeh said. He sat heavily in the other chair.
She remembered suddenly that she had intended to call her father directly, only to be interrupted by the assassins. Completely? she asked. Her mouth went dry.
Yes. It appears that somethings wrong with the ansibles there. I dont know if its anything like what happened at Sabine . . . His voice trailed away.
Ky watched his face; he stared at his hands. What else? she asked finally when he didnt look up.
Theres . . . another problem. Before we lost contact. I had reported the attack on youpurely routine, something Id do if a Slotter Key citizen had been involved in a barroom brawland I was told something that shocked me. He paused; Ky waited it out. Vattas always been in good odor with the government. I am sure you know that. Theres the contributions, of course, but beyond that, its an enterprise that has a long and honorable history in interstellar trading. Due all assistance, favored status, whatever you want to call it. And I liked you personally, when I met you on your first visit. I was looking forward to having lunch with you.
And? Ky prompted, when he stopped again. He looked up, his expression grim.
And for reasons I do not understand, that has been reversed. At the highest level. Vatta is, in the words of my superior, not to be accorded any status whatever. Get her out of there, he said. Have nothing to do with Vatta. 
Ky stared at him, shocked. What
He shook his head. I dont know, Captain. I demanded answers, and got nothing except that the situation had changed and I was to follow orders. I pointed out that you were sick, incapacitated, in danger, and was told to get you a room in a hotel. Whatever happened, its got the government scared. Some threat, Id guess, to them as well as to Vatta. He sighed, then went on. I tried calling some other people I knew; one of them told me there were rumors of attacks on Vatta holdings, but had no details. It was on the third call that we were cut off. I asked the police to check the combooth records from the Captains Guild; that was about six hours after you lost the signal to your headquarters.
Six hours. Much could happen in six hours . . . or in six minutes, or six seconds.
Im guessing that ISCs enemies are behind the ansible failure, but whether that has anything to do with this change in policy about Vatta, I dont know.
It must, Ky said. The ansible attacks on Sabine were certainly aimed at ISC, or so ISC thought. And I can understand the people who did it blaming me. I did kill two of them. Maybe its a two-pronged attack.
Consul Inosyeh shook his head. Wrong scale. A criminal organization wanting to punish you might send an assassination team, yesthough its more likely theyd have some local thug beat you up in a bar somewherebut not take out ansible service to your home planet. He paused, and Ky nodded. He went on. The thing is, Im under orders to dump you on the street, effectively. Im not going to. The look he gave her was brimming with mischief.
Ky stared at him.
Instead, Im going to commit time travel and have a conversation with you that actually occurred prior to that ansible call. In fact, were already having that conversation. If anyone asks later, this conversation occurred in the morning. Is that clear?
Nothing was clear at the moment, but the intensity of his gaze suggested that she needed to answer. Yes . . . I guess.
Good. Consul Inosyeh leaned back in his chair, hooked a heel around the leg of a hassock, and pulled it nearer before stretching his legs onto it. Im going to share with you what I might have shared if not instructed otherwisebecause from my point of view, I havent yet been instructed otherwise. And if you think that merely proves the moral elasticity of diplomats, please keep it to yourself. He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it in rumples.
Er . . . yes, of course. How had she ever thought this North Coaster stuffy and arrogant?
How much do you know of Slotter Keys foreign policy, especially as regards maintaining the safety of the spaceways? That last might have been set in inverted quotes, so marked was his emphasis.
Thats what we have a space navy for, Ky said promptly. Our strong Spaceforce deters . . . Her voice trailed away at his expression. Doesnt it?
I always wondered what they taught cadets, Consul Inosyeh said. He sighed. You know, the universe would work much better if people just told the simple truth, and you may think thats the stupidest thing ever to come out of a diplomats mouth, but really!
My father always said honesty in trade was better than trickery, Ky said. If you wanted repeat customers.
And lets hope that honesty didnt get him killed, Consul Inosyeh said. All right. Heres the truth of it. Slotter Key, our mutual home, is widely disliked for its way of handling interstellar security. Our Spaceforce, for all the resources dedicated to it, defends only the home system. One star system, three inhabited planets, some colonized satellites, and so on. We have pickets at several nearby jump points, as an early warning system. We dont take our ships into other peoples systems without elaborate preparationif we just waltz in, they call it invasion. They have called it invasion.
But I thought Ky stopped again. Nothing shed been taught actually contradicted what Consul Inosyeh was saying, though this was a strange interpretation. But then what keeps pirates from raiding our tradeships?
That, Captain Vatta, is the reason Slotter Key has a shady reputation. Slotter Key runs privateers, private armed vessels authorized by the Slotter Key government to pursue and take action against the enemies of Slotter Key. Which, broadly defined, means anyone who messes with our trade in ways we dont like. Were not the only ones to do what we do, but we do it fairly aggressively.
Shock like an ice-water bath stopped Kys breath for a moment. Privateers! Theyretheyre nothing but pirates with a piece of paper!
Thats exactly what some other systems call them, yes. Its what we call foreign privateers, too, if they interfere with our ships. But, Captain Vatta, every government finds itself in need of forceclandestine, unofficial, deniable forcein some situations. Vigilantes, privateers, bounty hunters, mercenaries, someone who would do the dirty work but whose dirty work could be disavowed if things went sour.
Butbut its wrong. Even as she said that, she knew how nave, how immature, that sounded. Consul Inosyeh did not laugh at her, or even smile.
Its certainly not ideal, he said. At best, the use of such methods should be reserved for a few rare difficult situations. But for economic reasons, Slotter Key and several other planetary systems have come up with this way to fund police in space. Im sure you can imagine the diplomatic problems that arise. Innocent ships seized, disputes over the proof of guilt, that sort of thing. The Merchant Council agreed, in the Commercial Code, to recognize privateers as separate from pirates, and privateersincluding oursare bound to adhere to the code for the treatment of prisoners, for instance, just as mercenaries do. Privateers have provided the only space police for many decades now, and on the whole the merchants are happier with them than with the real pirates.
There should be a real space police, Ky said. Surely the various systems could get together
So far theyve refused, Consul Inosyeh said. The closest thing is ISCs enforcement branch, but they dont do anything about piracy that doesnt affect them directly, and they arent enthusiastic when systems do try to combine forces. But heres the thing: merchant firms, including some you know, have participated in the privateer program, committing a small percentage of their fleet. Whats lost in cargo capacity to the armament they carry is made up for in prize money. Spaceforce usually assigns an officeralways on the larger ships, or if theyre working in a groupto keep an eye on things. We in the diplomatic service are provided a list of privateers operating in our area, in case we need to contact them or vice versa.
Despite her initial disgust at the thought of privateers, Ky imagined herself on such a shipalmost as good as a real warshipprotecting Slotter Keys merchant fleet from pirates. Maybe it wasnt that bad.
So you see, I can think of reasons why Slotter Key might be attacked, even without an attack on ISC. Weve annoyed a lot of people, not just our intended targets.
Are . . . uh . . . Vatta ships among the privateers?
Not on any list Ive ever had, Consul Inosyeh said. I believe it was the policy, when privateering was first authorized, that at least one carrier should not be invited to participate, so that its sterling reputation could cover the others. Sarcasm soured his voice. I dont know the whole history, but Vatta appears to have been chosen as the unspotted lamb of an otherwise motley flock. He looked at her closely. You didnt know any of this, I gather.
No, Ky said. Some of the reactions shed gotten here and on Sabine now made sense, though. So did that model kit with stray electronic bits Master Sergeant MacRobert had sent her back before she left Slotter Key. If you need help, his letter had said, and he was Spaceforce. He must have known about the privateers; he must have been trying to give her a way to contact them. But why hadnt her father told her? Surely hed known.
Well . . . you need to know it now. Youre going to be facing hostility and suspicion in many quarters, and whatever is presently going on, with Vatta and Slotter Keys government at odds, can only make things worse. I dont suppose you have any seasoned veterans among your crew?
No, Ky said. My father thought he was sending me off on a quiet run; he chose crew for their experience with the ship.
You need force you can trust, Captain. The best thing you could do is hire some good toughs. The kind of person you can depend on, so you dont have to hire guards at every stop.
And where would she find someone like that? How could she be sure they werent part of a plot to kill her? He must have seen that in her expression.
Theres one of our legation guards very close to retiring, he said. Hes a bit rough at the edges, but very experienced and strong as an ox. I could speak to him, if youd like.
The memory of what had happened the last time she took on a diplomats problem was clear in her mind. Caleb Skeldon had nearly gotten her killed. Would this be another rash idiot?
The thing about ex-military is they have discipline as well as training, Consul Inosyeh said, as if he could read her mind.
What I really need is a cargomaster, Ky said. Someone whos good at inventory as well as handling cargo loading.
He is, Consul Inosyeh said. Thats ifgiven what Ive told you about the governments positionyou trust me.
She had already made a fool of herself with the consuls wife. She had to trust someone, and Inosyeh had missed better chances to do her harm.
Ask him, then, she said. But Ill want to talk to him first, if he agrees.
Of course. Now, rememberthis conversation took place in the morning, when you arrived here and before I contacted my government.
Yes, Ky said. She felt numb, even more battered than before. What could she do with one small, slow, unarmed tradeship? How could she find out what was going on? Um . . . do you want me to leave now?
Now? No, of course not. Its night and youre still not fully recovered. Get a good nights sleep and by morning I expect the Belinta authorities will have found a way to return you to your ship. He pushed the hassock away, stood, and stretched. I have to attend a terminally boring dinner during which I shall pretend that nothing whatever is going on, and you are the hero everyone here thinks you are. Ill talk to our man when I get back and hes on duty, and you can meet him in the morning.
Ky was sure she would not sleep, and for some time her thoughts ran in giddy circles, but exhaustion took her finally. On her breakfast tray the next morning was a note from Consul Inosyeh advising her that Staff Sergeant Martin would like to speak with her before she left, and she had reservations on a shuttle leaving at 1015 local time.
Staff Sergeant Gordon Martin was a tall, blocky individual with graying blond hair and gray eyes like frozen pebbles. Though he was out of uniform, no one could have mistaken him for anything but a military man, not with his stance, expression, and attitude. Ky glanced at the information he handed herhe was younger than shed expected, he had experience in both supply and security, and the summary of his fitness reports suggested why he was retiring that young. No hint of dishonesty or substance abuse, but a pattern of borderline insubordination. One commanding officers comment, This individual does not know where initiative ends and rocket-propelled idiocy begins, stuck in her mind. She looked back up at him.
Not going to be promoted, Captain, he said. Too independent.
I dont need a loose cannon, she said. Ive already had one of those, and he almost got me killed.
Maam, Im not a loose cannon. I know what statement youre referring to, and that officer was willing to let the depot be robbed blind rather than admit hed trusted the wrong civ. What I did was go over his head, when he wouldnt do anything about it. A tight grin split the mans face. I couldnt go over your head, maamyoure the top of your command chain.
Despite herself, Ky grinned back. Did the consul explain that Ive been attacked and so has my ship? Its not a safe berth Im offering.
Yes, maam, Captain. Itll be my pleasure to keep you alive and the ship safe. And I understand you need someone with expertise in inventory control?
Yes. My cargomaster was killed last voyage; his second is excellent but not experienced with inventory, since Gary did all that.
Ive handled inventory control for this post and others.
The shuttle leaves in an hour and a half, Ky said. I dont know about transport out
I can take care of that, maam. If youre willing.
It was crazy. But something about him, about that solid, obviously experienced man, gave her the first real confidence shed felt since losing contact with Vatta headquarters. He was certainly not the type to need saving, eitherfor once she couldnt be accused of playing rescue. Lets not miss the shuttle, she said. Glad to have you along.
The trip back to Belinta Station aboard a governmental supply shuttle was as boring and uneventful as she hoped. Flanked by a police escort, with Martin beside her, she made it unscathed through the station corridors to her own dockside and aboard.
There she found not the calm she expected, but chaos and dissension, a knot of obviously scared and angry people yelling in the rec area.
Im not staying, Riel Amat, her senior pilot, was saying. You cant make me. Its too dangerous.
You cant leave! Quincys voice was hoarse, as if shed been talking a long time.
Whats going on? Ky asked. Her crew whirled to face her. Martin, she noticed, had placed himself along the bulkhead in a position to shield her from Riel.
Captain Riel reddened, then plunged on. I just cant do it. It was bad enough before, and now that someone almost blew up the shipI just cant. The station board says theres a Pavrati ship headed insystem; I want to transfer.
Quincy was glaring at Martin now. Whos this?
Our new cargomaster and security chief, Ky said. We need someone in charge of ship securitymeet Gordon Martin. Ex-Spaceforce, just retired. Also experienced in supply. She turned to Riel. I dont know if you realize it, but theres a break in communications between here and Slotter Keysomethings going on, and theres no guarantee therell be another ship home anytime soon.
I dont care. I do not want to stay on this ship and you cant make me.
I can take care of the piloting, Captain, said Lee. She hadnt noticed him before; unlike the others in the compartment, he was sitting relaxed on the bench. Im staying.
Who else wants to leave? Ky said.
If there was a ship, Sheryl Donster, her navigator, began, Id want to take it. But theres not. And I dont want to stay on this station; weve already been attacked here. So I guess Ill stay . . .
Crew briefing in an hour, Ky said. Ill tell you what I know then. Meanwhile, start preparing for departure. Riel, Ill see you in my cabin now.
Maam? That was Martin, still by the bulkhead.
We have police security outside for now. Alene, if youll show him how to access the cargo recordsand by the way, Quincy, did the police give us back our missing cargo?
No. They say they need it.
Not as bad as we do. Ill speak to them, after Ive talked to Riel. Ill want a time to departure as soon as you know, Quincy.
Riel followed her to her cabin, silent but radiating stubborn resistance.
Sit down, Ky said, when she had seated herself in her desk chair. He perched on the edge of the other chair. Look, RielI know youre scared and I understand. You have every reason to think Im a dangerous person to be around, and you may well be right. But before you decide to jump ship, you need to know what I know about the situation out there.
It doesnt matter, he said.
It may not matter, but I will feel better if you know, so hear me out, please. He relaxed a little, and Ky went on. I was talking to Vatta headquarters about that sabotage attempt when the connection went. The assassins came into the Captains Guild before I could try calling my father directly. Laterabout six hours, we thinkthe consul was on the horn to Slotter Key when the entire Slotter Key ansible connection went down. Its still down. He doesnt know if its an attack like that at Sabine, or something else entirely. From the little he was able to get before he lost the connection, it appears that either someone has a multiple grievance with ISC, Slotter Key, and Vatta, or by some chance different someones with different grievances have hit at the same time. I think the first is more likely. You were in Spaceforce, right?
Yes, butbut nothing like this ever happened. I never saw combat.
But do you still have any ties to Spaceforce? Some kind of duty to get back to them?
No, Riel said, with emphasis. I justI just want to do my job, without any of this excitement.
I hope you have that chance, Ky said. Ill authorize payment to date, and you can go.
Now? He stared at her.
Now. If youre not coming, then you dont need to attend the crew briefing, and were going to be busy getting ready to leave. Ill contact the bank right away; theyll have your severance ready. Under the circumstances, I believe you arent really entitled to anything but salary to date . . . but on the other hand there is a crisis, so Im going to authorize a months extra. My father can scold me later.
Thatsthats very generous. I dont know if I should
Riel, dont argue. Its my decision. Now get your gear while I call the bank.
It took only moments to authorize a draft for him. Ky went to the bridge, where Lee and Sheryl were working on the departure sequence. Destination still Leonora, Captain?
Im not sure. Set us up for that, Sheryl; its days to the jump point anyway, if I change my mind. Lee, what have you got on departure clearance?
Anytime, basically. They like a half hours notice, is all. Its not exactly a busy station.
Riel should be offship by then. The sooner they were out in space, the better. She called down to Quincy. Whats our status?
Weve been on standby since yesterday, Captain. Were ready to go, and, yes, before you ask, fully provisioned.
Good. Ill contact the station authorities. Have Beeah check to be sure when Riel has cleared the ship, would you?
He shouldnt be leaving, Quincy said. Your father trusted him
At this point, I dont, Ky said. I dont need an unwilling pilot. Quincy sniffed audibly. Just have Beeah make sure hes gone.
All right.
Getting departure clearance from the stationmaster was as quick as Ky had hoped; clearly the local authorities would be glad to see the last of Gary Tobai . Ky instructed Crown & Spears to forward her balance to her account at Lastway. Leonora was only a stopover; she shouldnt need much money there. She tried again to reach her father from the ships secured com desk.CONTACT UNAVAILABLE was all she could get, using any of his numbers.
Then Gary Tobai uncoupled from dockside; the station seals closed and vented the little airspace remaining around the ship. Lee backed them out smoothly; the insystem drive spun up normally, and she was once more in command of her own ship in space.
       
       
CHAPTER FOUR
Now that were safely back in space, Ky said to the assembled crew, you need to know the latest information. You know about the attempted sabotage of this ship, and the attack on me personally.
Is it because of the Sabine affair? Quincy asked.
I dont think so, Ky said. Not now. Too much is happening. The Slotter Key ansible isnt functioningthat happened sometime yesterday. I was in contact with Vatta headquarters, and that signal was also cut off, but hours earlier, before the assassins attacked. I dont know why Vatta would be a target, but apparently we are.
What can we do? asked Mitt.
The first thing we need to do is figure out what the situation is, Ky said. Right now we dont know if Slotter Keys ansible platforms were blown, or if theres another reason their ansibles offline. We dont know enough to make a plan. But we do know theres danger, and being a moving target will make it harder for our enemies to hit us.
Move fast, stay alert, Martin said. The others looked at him. Makes sense, Captain, he said.
Our stated itinerary is Belinta to Leonora to Lastway, Ky said. But we have supplies enough to go straight to Lastway
Why go to Lastway at all? Quincy asked. Why not head back to Slotter Key, find out whats really going on?
Id rather stay out of systems with no working ansibles, Ky said. Weve been in that situation before. Not good. Lastways remote enough, out on the fringe . . . Im betting that itll have ansible function even if others are shut down. Its also a high-volume system, plenty of traffic. That could bring us trouble, but it can also bring us news and allies. From there we can hop back to Leonora with their cargo if things settle down.
What kind of internal security scans does this ship have? Martin asked.
Just the usual for civilian tradeships, Ky said. Some of its down, too, thanks to the mutiny at Sabine. Video and audio to each compartment, mostly for communication. Why?
Someone tried to put explosives aboardId like to be sure nothing else came aboard. No offense intended to your crew, but just in case.
Good idea, Ky said. You mean check out compartments personally?
That, and with some of the kit I brought along. He patted his tunic.
Ky thought of asking where hed gotten whatever it was, and decided now was not the time. Go ahead, then, she said. Cargos secure; Ill take the other sections reports while you learn where things are.
Yes, maam, he said; his arm twitched in what would, Ky knew, have been a salute.
Mitt was halfway through giving his report when muffled thumps made them all look up. The intercom clicked, and Martins voice said, Intruder, cargo hold two. In custody. Request orders.
Im on my way, Ky said. Mitt, Beeah, come with me.
Just inside the open hatch of cargo hold 2, Martin stood guard over a prone figure in rumpled green tunic and kilt whose ankles and wrists had been trussed up with elastic cargo binders. If you can take charge of him, Martin said, Ill keep looking for any others.
Mitt, you stay with him; Beeah, be ready in case Martin needs you.
It took several hours for Martin to be confident that no other stowaways were hidden away. And Im still not one hundred percent sure, he said. Just mostly sure.
By this time, Ky had looked over their prisoner, an unprepossessing youngish man with straggly hair and at least a days growth of beard. He had a darkening bruise on one cheekbone. From his clothes, he was a Belinta native, but that was all she could tell.
Martin yanked the man up and propped him against one of the shipping containers. Give me one good reason why I shouldnt space you!
The prisoners eyes shifted to Kys face. Please! I didnt do anything! Dont let im kill me.
Didnt do anything? Ky said. You stowed away on my ship. What were you up to? Planting more explosives?
No! I swear! Nothing like that.
Whats your name, boy? Martin asked.
Jim. Jim Hakusar. And Im not a boy
Really. In that one word, Ky heard a tone that had turned many a raw recruit into a soldier. Martin turned to her. Captain, this stowaway claims to be an adult, which means hes legally yours; its up to you. Ill be glad to get rid of him for you.
No! No, please! II can do things. IllI can work for you. Thats all I wanted, was a chance
You mean you wanted to be crew?
Yes . . . anything to get off Belinta. I can do a lot of things, really I can.
Like what? Martin asked.
Well, I . . . I can build things. You know, like sheds and fences and that. Mitt gave a choked laugh; Ky fought down her own laughter. And I can take care of critters, yknow. Carry feed and clean up . . . His voice trailed away as he looked around the cargo hold and its obvious lack of wooden sheds, fences, or livestock. I thought . . . I heard . . . ships grow their own food, right, and that means crops and things and I know how to plant and hoe and
Large ships, Mitt said. Large ships grow some of their food in hydroponic gardens. We grow algae in tanks. We dont use hoes.
But this ship is big . . . I saw it on the vidscreen. Its . . . its lots bigger than our house back home; it had room in it for all those tractors and things. He looked around at the cargo hold. I mean, look at it. Its huge.
Im afraid Ky began, but he interrupted.
Please, lady! Please let me work. Ill work hard, I promise.
Thats the captain, Martin said, with emphasis. You say maam to her.
Please . . . maam . . .
Why did it always happen to her? She could just hear what Quincy would say. But Martins gaze was direct, steadying.
If theres no evidence he was trying to sabotage the ship, I have no reason to space him, Ky said. Thatll be your responsibility, Martinfind out. Meanwhile, well confine him And where would they confine him? And could he do anything at all useful, or would he be just another mouth to feed?
Ill take care of him, maam, Martin said. Find out what hes done, what he can do, give him something useful to do. He reached over and unhooked the cargo ties, then pulled the prisoner to his feet. Now you listen to me, boy. The captains said you livefor now. But youre under my orders, understand?
I The prisoner looked at Ky. Dont let him hurt me! Ill do anything you say.
What I say is, do what he tells you. And Martinthe ship comes first.
Yes, maam. Ky turned away, prepared to ignore whatever Martin did, but his stentorian roar almost made her jump. Stand up straight, you! She clamped her jaw on a giggle. She had jumped when MacRobert first roared at their cadet class. She knew within a centimeter what that young man was going to be feeling in the next few hours, and for the first time since she had left, memory of the Academy lightened her heart instead of saddening her.

By third shift, Ky felt that the ship was running smoothly. With the help of the rest of the crew, Martin had finished searching the ship to his satisfaction and was sure that no more stowaways were aboard; nor was there any explosive device. The young man had spent hours scrubbing the decks and finally, after a modest meal, had been locked into a closet with a mattress, pillow, and blanket.
Hell be a challenge, Martin reported, with the satisfied tone of someone for whom a challenge was welcome. Not born on Belinta, but his family moved there when he was a toddler. Poor colonists, out on the frontier. I know the type, maam. Brogglers, we call em back home, the kind that live off trapping and frog sticking and the like. Thing is, they can make passable workers if you polish em up. He can shoot, he tells me. Well see about that later.
If it saves me scrubbing things, Alene said, propping her elbows on the table, Im all for him.
Oh, hell scrub, Martin said. Its about all he can do, at this point. Little enough education, and I doubt he paid much attention to the schooling available.
Well do something about that, Ky said. If hes going to be in my crew, hes got to be certified. She looked around at the others whod gathered in the rec area. I knowtheres all kinds of trouble going on. But precisely because of that, we need qualified people aboard, not just pot scrubbers. I want him educated at least to basic spacecrew level.
We can try, Quincy said.
With all the expertise on this ship, we can do more than try, Ky said.

The passage out began smoothly enough. Gordon Martin kept their intruder busy two shifts of the day, with four hours of schooling worked in. Martin seemed to get along well with the rest of the crew, too. The other men joined him for physical training; Ky, who maintained her own training program, found that the women were joining hernot all of them at each session, but even Sheryl, who had claimed to hate exercise, was now using the machines every other day. Ky shared piloting watch-and-watch with Lee. She worried about every blip on the scans, half convinced that marauders were lurking, ready to take out the ship. Each one turned out to be harmless: the Pavrati ship edging in toward Belinta Station, the Belinta ore haulers and service vehicles.
At closest approach, four days out, Gary Tobai and the Pavrati ship passed each other. Ky made a courtesy call to the other ship.
You might as well skip Leonora, the Pavrati captain told her. Theyre not letting anyone in. We were coming in from Darttin, headed this way, and they chased us right back out as soon as wed cleared jump.
Whatwhy?
Some kind of communications problem, and theyre convinced something like Sabine will happen to them if they let outsiders into the system.
They didnt say what?
They didnt say anything but Go away and tell everyone else to leave us alone. System closed indefinitely, they said. That was three weeks back; we were set up wrong for a direct vector here and had to use an intermediate jump point. They have some hot defensive ships, let me tell you, and acted like theyd just as soon blow us as let us go. But go if you want toIm just giving a friendly warning.
Thanks, Ky said. I appreciate it. Belintas still open, as far as I know, but if youre headed for Slotter Key you may run into trouble. Ansibles down, apparently.
The Pavrati captain muttered something Ky was just as glad she couldnt hear. Damn pirates, he said then. Or whoevers doing this. Itll be the ruin of trade. We need supplies; I was going to restock at Leonora, but I guess well be satisfied with Belinta cabbage.
When shed signed off, Ky said, Sherylmake our course for Lastway. Let me know how fast we can make it, too.

This is a fine mess, Gerard Avondetta Vatta said. He hurt all over and he looked as bad as he felthe could see that in the faces around him, and he had no time to deal with his pain or his grief at the many losses. Or to worry about his youngest child, who had just survived a nearly disastrous first voyage. He had to think of the future, what could be salvaged from the bleak reality of loss.
It is a disgrace. Gracie Lane Vatta, inimitable and invincible, sat bolt upright in her seat. I cannot imagine what the government is thinking of, to let such things happen.
A question Gerard didnt want to consider yet was just how much the government had been involved. Or part of the government. Or what the disasters still falling on Vatta heads meant to the part of the government he had thought he influenced.
Hows the roll call going? he asked his brothers widow, Helen Stamarkos Vatta. He liked Helen; he respected her abilities, but he could still hardly believe that Stavros was gone, that he would never have that steadying hand on his arm again.
Two hundred nineteen responses, Helen said. The dark rings around her eyes were the only sign of grief; those, and the mourning band she wore around her hair. She had lost her husband, her elder daughter, a son. We know of thirty-seven deaths.
But there would be more deaths, of that he was sure. The ones he knew were bad enough. His wife, his son, the household staff, the men and women in the office building.
He pushed the memories away. Myris was dead, drowned in the midst of a fireball, her skull crushed by some piece of debris. San was dead, with all but two in the office building. And he still had responsibilities, work to do that could not wait for him to recover either physicallyfrom the burns and broken bonesor emotionally.
The remaining Vatta family members on Slotter Key were all present, crammed into the storm bunker under a tik warehouse now a pile of twisted blackened steel overhead. It was the safest place he could think of, but his skin crawled at the thought that someone else might know of it, and even now might be about to blow them all away.
What about communications? he asked.
The ansible message bins are stuffed, Helen said. Timmis Hollander the local ISC manager; Gerard knew him well doesnt know why, he claims. I suspect whatever the cause, its affecting more than Slotter Key. This list is just the ones who got through before She looked at her list. before 1453 Capital Standard Time yesterday.
All right. Gerard took a deep breath. It hurt; he struggled not to cough. The family physician wanted him in a hospital, but he wasnt about to sit still in so obvious a target. We still have local communications with our remaining people on the mainland. Perry Adair is positioned in this system, not docked at the Slotter Key main station, and nothing has attacked the ship. He didnt have to add yet . We have one remaining shuttle, now docked at the station, under local guard. We have been advised that permission to transit planetside will not be granted at this time.
So were stuck here, said Gracie Lane.
Not . . . completely. Commercial carriers have agreed to transport less . . . er . . . prominent family members to the station for a hefty surcharge. They would not transport him, or Helen, or any other officer of the company.
Does anyone know why we were attacked? Gracie asked. Other than our being rich and powerful and making a move on Pavrati last year?
No, Gerard said. No definite indication has come. I suspect that it is not unconnected to the problems ISC is having, since we have long been public in our support of ISCs monopoly, and opposition to it has been growing for the past few decades.
Is it because Kylara got involved with those pirates in the Sabine mess? she asked, with an unerring instinct for the one thing he did not want to think or talk about.
She did not get involved, as you put it, he said. She had no choice
Gracie sniffed. She doesnt see choices, that girl. She sees openings. Then she grinned. Not a bad way to fight a war, actually.
Gerard blinked. He remembered suddenly that the scrawny, pestiferous old woman, the bane of the family in some ways, creator of the least edible but most valuable fruitcakes in the universe, was enough older that she had been in the last war. He wasnt sure as what, but he remembered his father saying something . . . he queried his implant and there it was, her military file. Gracie? Behind the lines? Somehow he had not connected her expertise in surveillance and information collectingsuitable civilian activities for a nosy old ladywith their military equivalents.
Well, dont stare like that, she said, misreading the cause of that stare. It is a war, isnt it? We have an enemy, whether we knew it or not. They killed our people, attacked our business and our homes, broke our line of communication. Did it fairly well, you have to give them that . . . we certainly werent prepared. But nowits a war, and wed better win it. I do not intend to spend the rest of my days sitting in some smelly, stuffy bunker under the wreck of a tik processing plant.
I . . . hadnt thought of it as war, Gracie, Gerard said. I mean . . . of course it was an attackis an attackbut wars are for . . . for governments.
War is war, Gracie said. And our government is doing damn-all about it. Just as well young Ky had those years in the Academy, and just as well she didnt graduate. She couldnt help us then.
She cant help us now, Gerard said. If shes even still alive. He wanted to pray that she was, but he had no prayers to speak, not after losing Myris, San, Stavros, the others . . .
Well see, Gracie said. I will say, shes not an idiot.
That was a concession, considering how shed spoken of Ky before. Gerard cleared his throat with difficulty, and went on with what he thought the agenda should be.
The point is, what we have left of Vatta Enterprises is now in serious trouble. Vatta Transport in space is out of communication, except for Perry Adair . Insurance reimbursements on our Slotter Key planetary assetsland, improvements, movable propertywill have to be used to cover contractual obligations. If were lucky, if they actually pay out in a reasonable amount of time, it wont exceed contractual obligations. Out of systemas of our last incoming data burstwe have lost insurance coverage on our ships, and as a result we have lost contracts. And as you know, we had purchased fifteen new hulls in the last four years . . . well, now those loans are being called in. Ordinarily, we would be able to cover that. Now . . . we cant.
So . . . youre talking bankruptcy? Gracie asked.
Im talking ruin, Gerard said. You talk about war, and winning . . . Gracie, we have nothing to fight with. We have no money. We have no credit. We have no capital assets with which to make money.
Nonsense! We have Vatta ingenuity, Vatta drive
We dont even know if we have Vattas, other than ourselves, Gerard said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. My best estimate, prior to this, is that weve lost eighteen percent of our interstellar tonnagebut if we cant get insurance, and no one trusts us with cargo, thats eighty-two percent useless and expensive junk. Can we sell the ships? Certainly, at a loss, to our competitors . . . but only if we regain communications with their captains. We dont have any procedures whereby captains can sell Vatta-owned ships on their own responsibility. And morethe Slotter Key government is distancing itself from our problems, just when we need it. There have been mutters in the Circle that we brought trouble here by being so obvious a target. We have been informed that protecting Vatta interests is a drain on taxpayer resources.
We arent nearly as conspicuous as some I could name, Gracie said. President Varthos
Yes, I agree, Gerard said, cutting off what he was sure was her usual rant about the President and his family. He himself thought the pink shellstone presidential palace was a bit overdone, but quite attractive in detail. But the point is that we were attacked and they werent, and they dont want to give us the kind of protection we wantand needfor fear of becoming targets themselves. Ive tried pointing out that we are also taxpayers, but right now we arent likely to be major contributors to anyones campaign budget.
Hes been got at, Gracie said.
Possibly, but it will do no good to say so. Gerard pinched his nose again. Gracie was so talented at giving headacheshe wished he could sic her on whoever their enemy was. Heres what we have to decide. Our private funds are still intact, so far as I know. Banks on Slotter Key havent failed, and though there may be problems related to the failure of the financial ansibles, Im assured that my own accounts, for instance, are available. We here can choose to put our own money back into the company and try to keep Vatta afloat, at least here, or we can take our money and . . . and run, not to put too fine a point on it.
How much would we need? Helen asked.
I-Im not entirely sure, Gerard said. He hated saying that; as CFO, he should be able to give precise figures. But his office, like his home, was a smoking hole in the ground, and he was finding it increasingly hard to think clearly. More than I have myself, I know that. But I wanted to determine if you were willing, first
I am, came a voice from the corner. Gerard had almost forgotten Stella Vatta Constantin, Helen and Stavros younger daughter. The others turned toward her. Dont stare like that, she said. I screwed up once . . . just once . . . and you all thought of me as that idiot Stella from then on, right?
Its not that Gerard began. Stella interrupted.
Yes, Uncle Ger, it is. Just as you all thought of Ky as the gullible one. The thing is, I care about this family as much as anyone else. More than some. And I think Ky has more sense than you realize. Im willing to bet my last credit on Vatta. How about the rest of you?
Some of us have families . . . That was Vasil Turolev, whose Vatta wife and children had survived.
Some of you are lucky, Stella said, before Gerard could get his jaw unlocked. So are you going to kick your luck in the teeth and run away?
I have to think about them, Vasil said. What will they live on if I do, and it fails? Vasils wife shook his arm and muttered in his ear. When he looked away, she spoke up.
Ill put in mine, she said. Celia Vatta.
Mine, of course, said Gracie. Vatta will survive.
I certainly hope so, Gerard said. He did not feel confident at all, and the pain clouded his vision; the stimulant dose hed talked the doctor into was wearing off. And we need to decide how to distribute the database we have . . . His head rolled sideways; he couldnt point to his implant without moving an arm, which took too much effort. Stavs was destroyed; I think mine should be duplicated . . . find Ky . . . tell her . . . He could not keep his eyes open; the post-stim crash rolled over him, sucked him into darkness.
Stella, dear, I need to talk to you . . . Gracies voice stabbed his ears even as he drifted off. By the time she lifted his cranial flap and removed his implant, slipping it into the protective case with its nutrient bath, he was unconscious. He did not hear the family disperse, the low-voiced decision to bring a medical team here rather than move him. He did not regain consciousness before the emergency surgery, before his death.

Gracie Lane Vatta moved about the kitchen, mixing dried and candied fruits, nuts, flour, sugar in a large bowl, while the kitchens owner greased and floured deep pans.
I cant believe youre making fruitcake now! Stella Vatta Constantin said. The other woman, who had been introduced to her as Louise, glanced up and then continued her work. People have died, others are dying, and
Stella, I appreciate your sentiments, but if you make me forget the recipe these will be even viler than usual. Put that she nodded at the sealed implant case that held Gerard Vattas implant in one of those insulated bags.
You are not going to put it in a fruitcake and bake it! Itll destroy it!
No, it wont. Ive done this before. Theres dual protection; the implant case itself is insulated, and the bag will give it another thirty minutes at baking temperatures. Gracie looked blank, then began dumping spices into the batter. The thing about fruitcake, Stella, is that no one thinks its anything but fruitcake. An aunts fruitcake is one of the most innocuous substances in the universe. It fairly reeks of family duty, stuffy traditions. You know about cover. How else could someone carry a highly valuable implant
Youre taking it somewhere?
No, my dear. You are. She glanced at the other woman. Louise, could I trouble you to fetch the bottle of rum thats in the guest room, the one I sent Pauli out for earlier?
Of course, maam. Louise left the kitchen. Gracie moved closer to Stella.
Stella, we cant have just one copy of the command database. Ive got one now; Im not giving you one in case . . . in case someone tries to pry into yours. This is for Ky. Im sure you can find her. She was going to Lastway as a final destination after Belinta. Shell end up there sometime. But you wont go directly there. Ive got a courier drop for you to get to ISC headquarters. Youll leave tomorrow morning, and youll travel as you have before. Legal representative, not family.
Right, Stella said. With a fruitcake.
With several fruitcakes. All reeking of rum. Gracie finished stirring the batter. I know I forgot something . . .
Vanilla? Stella asked.
Vanilla . . . no . . . not in the recipe. Something Gerry said, back at the house. Too much too fast . . . I shouldve been recording . . . She shook her head. I hate age. Wisdomassuming you gain anyis not enough to trade for the youthful ability to stay up two days running and still remember things. Here, put the implant case into this pan; balance it on these little pins. And this little packet in the other. And for goodness sake, remember which is which. The batter slumped into the circular pan, then the rectangular one, filling them, hiding the contents as Gracie nudged it around with a spatula. Nowinto the oven with them.
Stella put the cake pans into the oven just as Louise returned with the bottle of rum. The three of them sat around the table until the cakes were done and cooling on racks.
Better get to bed, Stella, Gracie said. She fought off her own exhaustion. She had things to say to Louise, things to do, secrets still to keep, even from Stella. The girlwoman nowhad come a long way. She had proved herself before now. And she was the only one who mightmightbe able to do what Gracie considered essential.
In the predawn dark, Stella came back into the kitchen, dressed in the sober business suit that fit her cover story, her golden hair dulled with a rinse and slicked back into an unbecoming knot. Nothing could obscure her cheekbones, but makeup subtly denied the obvious beauty, masking the flawless skin with vague blotchiness. Gracie looked her over carefully. Good job, my dear, she said at last.
Will you be all right, Aunt Grace? Stella asked.
Me? Grace said. She allowed her smile to convey her intent. Oh, yes, Stella, I will be all right. Very much so.
Stellas expression shifted, but she had been well trained; she did not even look at Louise as she said, Do take care, Aunt Grace; Ill miss you.
And here are your fruitcakes, Stella.
Aunt Grace, I dont really need
Of course you do. Grace handed her the sack. And theres a little something in there for you, too, Stella. A packet of diamonds, that most useful portable currency. Stella already carried some, in the pocketed camisole under her blouse, but it was impossible to have too many diamonds. Lunch for your journey.
Thank you, Aunt Grace, Stella said, and hugged her lightly. Then she was gone, and Grace, already packed, left the house by another entrance, to meet another driver. En route to her next destination, she stopped briefly to make a call from a shielded site. Just before dawn was a fine time to wake a traitor, to whisper into his ear, You will regret this . . .

Gammis Turek read the reports with satisfaction. They had calculated correctly: they had beheaded Vatta Enterprises, and chopped off more than enough limbs. The Slotter Key government had been cooperative in rendering no more aid. What was left of Vatta would be harmless, the disconnected twitching limbs of what had been a formidable creature. They had missed the daughter, but she was a minor target anyway, and she was on a small, slow, unarmed ship. If he wanted her later, he could take her.
He placed the call to the Slotter Key presidential palace, aware that the very existence of the call would puzzle and alarm them.
You were wise to take my advice, he said without preamble. You see how fortunately it turned out.
What I see is a big mess, the voice replied. It did not sound nearly so cowed and compliant as he expected. Gammis scowled.
It is not your mess, he said. It is Vattas mess, and they are now helpless to cause usme or youany problems.
Im not so sure of that, the voice said.
Cowards. Timid sheep. Gammis chuckled indulgently. Their senior officers are all dead. Their headquarters is destroyed. Some of their largest and most profitable ships. They cannot get insurance; their accounts are frozen. What is the problem, then?
You missed one.
Missed one? I dont think so. My intelligence reports that their CEO and CFO are both dead, and the entire second level of vice presidents
You missed the old lady. She knows someone got to the government
Gammis laughed aloud this time. Everyone knows someone got to the government. What of it? And what old lady? We have no profiles on old ladiesthey can complain all they like.
She called me.
Oh, forgrow a spine, man. An old lady, some old dowager Vatta, without strength of arms or resources . . . she can whine all she wants. She is toothless. Gammis closed the connection, shaking his head at the timidity of grounder politicians.
       
       
CHAPTER FIVE
During the passage to Lastway, the crew seemed to adjust to the new situation and crewmembers, though not without some friction.
Hes so . . . so military, Quincy said to Ky some three days into the passage. Everything spit and polish, all the time. Ky didnt have to ask for a name: Gordon Martin, of course. I think hes too hard on that boy, Quincy continued. That boy being Jim Hakusar, who claimed to be twenty-three. Yesterday he had him down on his hands and knees for hours, scrubbing, just because he had forgotten to shower.
It wont hurt him, Ky said. Are you getting soft on Jim?
Not soft, no. I agree he needs training. But Martin
He is military, Quincy, just out. Its been his career. You cant expect him to change overnight, and frankly Im more comfortable having him in charge of Jim than if I had to supervise him. Ky stretched. Is he bothering you any other way? Martin, I mean?
Quincy shook her head. Not really. He doesnt want us to use his given namethats kind of odd, were all used to first namesbut hes not ordering the rest of us around or anything.
Do you think Jim will ever make a spacer? Is he doing well in his studies?
Maybe, and not really. Martin thinks hes not applying himself; Im beginning to wonder if he has one of those learning things. I was asking him about his schooling and it didnt sound like the Belinta primaries had any of the corrective software we use.
Do we have any of that kind of thing aboard? The crew had a library for continuing education.
Ill look, Quincy said. SorryI hadnt thought to check that out.
If we do, see if itll help him, Ky said. I saw those original test scoreshes about as far down the scale as you can go. If hes going to be with us, he needs to be more than a drudge.
Alene had accepted Martin as the new cargomastershed already told Ky she didnt really want the job herselfbut she, too, found him rigid at times. He wants a full inspection every day, she said. Gary never did that, and he had years of experience.
He might do it now, under these circumstances, Ky said. Martins got the background in security as well as supply; he wants to keep us safe.
Im all for safe, Alene said. And I dont mind the extra work, really. With Jim doing most of the scut work, theres little enough for a cargo second to do en route. Its just . . . his manner, I guess.
Is he rude?
No. But I can see him stopping himself from ordering me around the way he does Jim.
Give him time, Ky said. At least hes trying to stop himself.
As for the stowaway, Ky had little to do with him. She noticed that his shaggy hair had changed to a short bristle, and his face was always smooth, his slouching posture more upright, his expression less foolish and more alert. He always seemed to be busy; the galley and toilets gleamed, the decks were always swept. Every five days, she asked Martin for a progress report, and learned that the recruit was making progress, albeit slowly.
Itd go faster in a real basic training course, Martin said. He sat upright, as always, and Ky found herself resisting the urge to sit at attention herself. Here on the ship, with no other recruits to measure himself against, he can fool himself, think hes working as hard as he can. You remember that yourself, I expect, from your Academy days.
Indeed yes, Ky said. Competition, as well as the staff, had fueled much of her hard work.
And I do realize were civilians, not military. Its just that boys like this need the discipline, or theyll never give up their evasions. They always have excuses; they always have tricks to avoid the work. Theyre not bad, exactly, but theyre thick-skinned as well as thickheaded. That learning software your chief engineer found is helping, though.
If you can make a decent, competent spacer out of him, that will satisfy me, Ky said. Just dont break anything we need later.
Martin laughed. Ill take care of him. Without breakage, I promise you. Another thing, though. No laughter now; his expression hardened again. We need to consider security issues for when we dock somewhere. Ive been through the procedures manual youve got, and its totally inadequate. Were lucky we didnt have an entire crew of stowaways and a kiloton of weaponry aboard. This thing of trusting local police
Im sure you already have ideas on that, Ky said. Do you have them ready to present?
As a matter of fact He brought out several large sheets of hardcopy. I could put this on a cube, if you want, but sometimes its easier to see in this format. We can cobble together some of our existing equipment for part of it, but were going to need better sensors, and many more of them.
Ky looked at the diagrams. Youre talking military-grade coverage, arent you?
He nodded. From the little we know, things are coming unstuck in several places, and we may come out of FTL in a war zone. Civvie stuff to ward off the casual sneak thief just wont do. Now, Ive looked into the cargo manifeststhat stuff we cant deliver to Leonora includes components we could turn into the basic net Im talking about.
We cant breach cargo seals, Ky said. Its against policy, not to mention law.
He grimaced. Policy . . . is for the last war but one, maam. Leonora wont let us deliver, didnt you say? So their cargos forfeit, isnt it?
Not exactly, Ky said. In something like this, it would go before a magistrate to determine whether we could sell the cargo and put the money in escrow for the original consignors, or whether we could sell the cargo and keep the profit. Nothing in the law as I understand it allows us to break the seals and use the cargo for our own purposes.
Were not going to be hauled away to jail if were in pieces because someone got to the ship, Martin said.
True, buthow much can you do without using the Leonora cargo?
Depends on what resources you authorize from engineering stores.
Lets look at this again, Ky said, leaning over the diagram. Hm. Motion sensors, infrared
Maam, I know you have some military training, but how much was specific to security concerns?
Not much, Ky said. I couldnt help noticing how different it was, when we were taken to training venues, but we didnt have it in class. That was coming later, once we were commissioned, they said.
Well, heres the short and dirty. To keep a ship like this, and a crew this size, reasonably safe in the kind of situation were talking about, you need three things. Hardwarethe sensors deployed in appropriate locations. Software set up to interpret input correctly. And procedures that everyone follows. I dont mean any insult by it, but this is not a military crew. Your people arent used to discipline, other than doing their jobs, isnt that right?
Right, Ky said.
Ive been paying attention, listening to them talk about how they spend their time when a ships in dock. They walk in and out, go visit a station bar or caf, go run errands, do some shopping
Yes, thats normal, Ky agreed. And?
Well, maam, seems to me normal just went out the door and didnt look back. Somebodys trying to kill you and destroy your ship. That means weyoucant be having any of that casual strolling around. I can make up some of the deficiencies with hardware and softwareif I get enough of itbut you also need to set up procedures for how people behave on the next place we dock.
Procedures restricting their movements, you mean.
Movement, communications, everything. Its not going to be easy; theyll think theyre being careful when theyre leaving holes in your security I could walk a whole platoon through.
If thats the hardest job, I think we should start with that part, Ky said.
What weapons do you have aboard?
Mehars two pistol bows and some knives, Ky said. And whatever that is you carry.
This? He opened his tunic and pulled out a matte-black handgun, laying it on the table without, Ky noted, ever allowing the muzzle to point toward her. Eleven millimeter, Standard Arms; manufactured on Slotter Key under license from Bascome. Same as our utility issue, but this ones custom. He cocked his head at her. You dont have a weapon? I expected you would.
I was rushed off Slotter Key in a hurry, Ky said. At the time, a weapon was the last thing in my mind. After Sabine, though
I heard you killed two of them, Martin said. Mind telling me how you did it without a gun?
Crossbow, Ky said. Mehars pistol bow, in fact. The mutineers had knives, no firearms; the mercs had made sure of that.
Ah. Not a bad ship weapon, a bow. Not enough penetrance to damage a hull or even a bulkhead. But I would recommend, maam, that you arm yourself as soon as you can.
Lastways bound to have weapons shops, Ky said.
I could pick up something for you, he offered. Safer for you.
No, thanks. If Im going to shoot it, I want to choose it, Ky said. His brows went up, and she went on. I did learn to shoot, you know. As a girl back home, as well as Academy training. Now, if youll draft some procedures for me, we can go over them and start training the crew.
Right away, maam. And given the lack of arms, I think Ill add some basics in unarmed fighting techniques. Some of them might get it. He nodded and left the compartment.

Down transition at Lastway went smoothly enough; Sheryl had dropped them in farther from the planet than usual, with as little relative vee as possible. Scan cleared in a few minutes, and Ky checked the Lastway ansibles, querying for current sectorwide commercial news. She didnt expect much, but a large download came into the bin a half hour later.
COMMUNICATIONS BLOCKAGE STILL THREATENS COMMERCEwas one headline. According to that article, ansibles had gone down in a number of systems within a few hours, disrupting not only communications but also trade. Several planetsLeonora was listedhad closed their systems to outside traffic. ISC had begun repairs at both the hub and periphery of its systems simultaneously, and Lastway now had unimpeded communications with two other systems. ISC wasnt saying what it had found, just that work is in progress to restore clear, reliable communication as quickly as possible. Slotter Key was one of the systems listed as still not open, as were Belinta and Leonora.
Ky flicked through the list, and the next headline stopped her breath in her chest.VATTA EMPIRE FALLS . She scrolled down.
       
        The quadrants second largest interstellar shipper, based on Slotter Key, has suffered a series of devastating attacks on its ships and personnel. Disaster has followed even onto their home planet, with explosions in warehouses and tik processing plants, as well as the deaths of many family members in explosions at the family compound on Corleigh. Bankruptcy seems imminent, as customers flee the ill-fated line . . .
       
Ky stared at that a long moment. Corleigh bombed? The house shed grown up in . . . that garden, that pool, the cool tiled terraces, the comfortable rooms . . . gone? Her family . . . her busy, bustling mother? Her brothers, her cousins, her father ?
It couldnt be. They couldnt be dead. It had to be a mistake. It made no sense anyway. Why would anyone attack Vatta like that? They had no enemiescommercial rivals, but not enemies. Her breath came short. She tried to find out more, but the writer preferred to speculate on the effect of Vattas disintegration on the price of shipping and the fortunes of rival firms.
Two others stories mentioned attacks on Vatta Transport, one from Highdare, a system near the sector hub, and one from ISC sources. More ships had been attacked onstation, and two Vatta ships were overdue at their next port. Insurance carriers had dropped Vatta as too risky; shippers were avoiding Vatta because of the lack of insurance. ISC issued a statement disclaiming responsibility for the attacks on Vatta:
       
        We are quite sure that the involvement of a Vatta ship in the situation of Sabine System is not related to these attacks . . . ISCs relationship with Vatta Enterprises, Vatta Transport, and individuals of the Vatta family has been strictly business and no closer than our relationship with other customers.
       
Ky stared at that. So someone else had thought this might result from her actions in the Sabine System? And then had discarded that idea? Were they right, or were her fears right? Was it her fault? For a moment, the invented mental images of destruction she hadnt seen swamped her mind . . . the house burning, the office exploding, the warehouses and processing plants aflame . . . family members whose faces she would never see again . . .
No. That wasnt going to help her get her cargo sold, her crew and ship safely in and out of Lastway space. They might be alive, some of them at least. She had to think that way; imagining the worst would paralyze her.
She scanned the rest of the download, concentrating on the here and now. She shunted prices to Martin and Alene in Cargo and Quincy in Engineering.
Two hours later, Lastway Traffic Control inquired if they were in transit or on approach.
Approach, Ky said.
Be advised, Vatta ships are under special advisory concern, Traffic Control said.
Explain, Ky said.
How long have you been in transit? came the answer.
Ky gave the date in universal.
Ah. So you arent aware of the situation?
What situation? Ky asked. What would they say? What would they do?
Vatta Transport, Ltd., has been subject of some form of attack, and we have been informed that upon docking, all prior insurance coverage for Vatta hulls is canceled. Vatta personnel are considered to be at risk, and Vatta family members at special risk. Lastway Militia Services disclaims responsibility for their safety, and recommends extreme caution and additional private security
Any Vatta hulls presently docked? Ky asked.
No. Yours is the first into our space since all this blew up. Traffic Control heaved an audible sigh. Whatever did you people do, and who did you annoy?
I dont know, Ky said. Ive been in transit. What have you heard?
Two dozen rumors, nothing solid, Traffic Control said. But hereif you dock here, you may have problems getting out, and you will have to pay cashVatta credits down the tubes.
If I dont dock here, I may run out of air, Ky said. So bring me in.
Your choice, Traffic Control said. Theres an eight-hundred-credit cash deposit on docking; Immigration Control will be there to collect it.
Thank you, Ky said through clenched teeth. Then she called the crew together.
What I know is all bad, but Im sure we dont know everything, she said, then went on to describe the news. It may be that all the other Vattas are dead. It may be that the news is all wrong and theyre all alive. But for our own safety, we have to assume that there is someoneapparently a lot of someones with plenty of resourcesafter Vatta.
You arent setting foot off this ship, Quincy said.
On the contrary, I must, to do what needs doing, Ky said. At any rate, it would do me no good to sit here and have my crew picked off one or two at a time. I cant run this thing alone.
But we are going to be careful. Those procedures that Martin developed, that weve been practicingwe are all going to adhere to them. No casual wandering around the station, no letting people wander into our dock space. Were going to carry taggers; were going to put up extra security screening, the whole bit.
What do you think you have to do that requires you to go offship? Quincy asked.
Ky looked at her, but Quincy didnt back down. Not surprising. To start with, I have to pay docking fees in advance, in cash. Vatta credits been frozen. I should have a private account here, but since we dont know when the Belinta ansibles went out, I dont know if the transfer I set up before we left actually went through. I need to exchange hard goods for cash, open an account, get us back into business. None of you can do that. In addition, I need a way to defend myself, she said.
You . . . are you talking about weapons? About arming the ship?
Im not telling any of you all my thoughts, Ky said. Not even you, Quincy. Not because I dont trust you Though she did not entirely trust the new crewmembers. but at this point the fewer people who know my plans, the fewer people can be forced to share them.
Their expressions showed that none of them had considered that possibility yet.
You think someone mightmight grab one of us? Shake us down? Mitt asked.
Its possible, Ky said. We have to think of things like that, Mitt. If theyll attack corporate headquarters on Slotter Key, and kill family and crew on other stations, then a snatch isnt the least likely thing to happen, if were unprepared. Thats why well take precautions. Those of you with implants, make sure you keep your communications channels alive. Talk to the ship anytime youre out . . . anything, everything.
You dont have an implant, Quincy said. Isnt it time to use that implant your father sent you?
It hasnt been six months, Ky said. In the meantime, the first trip out is going to buy me the best nonimplant personal communicator on this station. Ill wear it from then on, and when I go out Ill have both crew anddepending on what I find out in the next couple of hourshired security as well.
Captain, if Vatta Transport is really gonereally defunctare you going to try to start it up again, or go independent? Beeah asked.
Beeah, I cant answer that one now. I dont know enough. We just fell into a war with these attacks. I dont know who the enemy is, or why the attacks happened, or how strong the enemy is, or which of our forces are left. The main thing now is to survive, gather data, get someplace from which we can move, if a move is possible.
You ought to go back to Slotter Key, Quincy said. Your family needs you.
If I have a family, Ky said. Images of horror flickered through her mind, and she shoved them away. Attacks on headquarters, warehouses, processing plants, the private terminal, the family compound . . . where else would my family be? And it will do no good to go to Slotter Key and be cut off from ansible communication. What they needif they live, if the whole corporation hasnt been bankruptedis someone out here doing trade and showing that Vatta ships still carry cargo safely.
But if we have no insurance, no one will ship with us.
Not the big shippers, no. But there are always people desperate to get cargo from here to there, and willing to assume the risk themselves.
Quincy pursed her lips. Vatta has never carried that kind of cargo.
Oh, yes, we have. Long ago, admittedly, but its in the family histories. Vatta wasnt always completely pure and aboveboardno one was, in the early days after the Rift. So what were going to do is trade and profit, along with skulking and hiding and being extremely careful.
I dont see how we can carry the Vatta colors and be careful both, Mitt said. Im with Beeahwhy not go independent now, change the ships registry?
We cantwere already widely known as Vatta, Ky said. If it comes to that, well have to do it somewhere else, some port that is even less law-abiding than Lastway.
They stared at her in silence.

Ky spent the next two hours looking at the threat assessment she and Martin had made on the approach when she had nothing else to do. Too many question marks, too many things she could not know. The lessons from the Academy came back to her. No commander ever knew everything; the ones who thought they did were often in the worst trouble. Good commanders took what they did know and made good plansand contingency plansanyway.
She doodled on a blank page of her log.MISSION: what was her mission, anyway? She had no higher command, at the moment . . . surely the original mission, to sell the ship for scrap, was irrelevant at this point. Stay alive. Keep her crew alive. Keep her ship whole and functioning. Find out who was behind this. What were victory conditions?
As cadets, theyd been introduced to the concepts of tactics, strategy, grand strategy . . . but most of their time had gone into the things a junior officer might need to know. Strategy was for older, more senior, and hopefully wiser heads. Juniors succeeded insofar as they figured out ways to carry out the designs of their seniors.
Ky shook her head at that moment of nostalgia. Prepared or not, she was the person on the spot. She was senior now. It was all up to her. No use to whine that she wasnt ready or didnt know enough. Nobody was around to advise her.
Victory conditions: start with alive and free, all of them. Alive, free, with the ship. Alive, free, with the ship and crew and some prospect of making a living. And then doing something to save her remaining family members and if possible the family business. Revenge on whoever had done this would have to come later, much later, but survival itself depended on figuring out who it could be.
Paisons allies were the obvious choice . . . and if true, that meant it was her fault. If she hadnt killed Paison, they would not have attacked her family. But that made no sense. Why would pirates waste all that money and effort to attack her family when they had to know where she was? Why not just kill her?
Now was the time to find out who, and then how and why and the rest, while keeping herself and her crew alive and out of enemy hands. She looked at the locker in which shed stowed the Vatta implant her father had sent her. It was still too soon, according to the Mackensee surgeon, to have an implant installed, but at this moment she would have liked access to the proprietary Vatta information. More important, though, was keeping it out of enemy handsa security issue that hadnt occurred to her until this moment.
When the crew reassembled, she asked for their ideas, their threat assessments. It occurred to her, as they ran down their lists, that they were doing much better than they would have before the Sabine mess. Still, Jim seemed to have a talent for thinking up ways someone might do them damage . . . his list was longer than anyone elses.
Ky looked at him, when theyd all finished. Where did you get those ideas? she asked. He looked worried. Im not angry. I just wonder what else you were doing besides fixing ship engines.
Im not doin it here, he muttered. Wouldnt do anything to this ship, Captain.
Im glad to know itand glad youre on our side. She looked at Alene. First, Im going to see if the legal firm I contacted has any final word on that Leonora cargo, then well list our cargo on the Exchange boards. Martin will concentrate on security issues, so youll have to run Cargo on your own.
Prices are volatile, Captain, Alene said. How long dyou think itll be before we get clearance?
Less than an hour after we dock, Im hoping. Certainly by end of shift. As soon as we start selling, we start resupply. Environmental, insystem fuel, general supplies. Now: can we offload to the secure dock area without outside help?
Alene shook her head. I dont think so. The Leonora cargos all palleted, too heavy to shift without a loader. We could rent a loader, I suppose . . . Ive handled one. But who else?
I can, Jim said. At least . . . Ive used one once. With Jim, Ky thought, that could mean hed seen someone else use one once, or hed driven one off a dock into the water, orpossiblyhe had actually driven one without incident.
How long will it take with one loader, to clear the holds?
If some of the others will help with shifting and positioning, we can have the Leonora pallets off in a shift. The rest . . . you know our difficulties, Captain. Several days.
Heres what well do, then. First Martin will supervise setting up our security net. Meanwhile Ill arrange loader rental, and as soon as were cleared for it, well start unloading those pallets. Id like to minimize exposure of personnel to possible . . . problems. The fewer outsiders who come aboard, and the less time anyone spends onstation, the safer well be.
On final approach, Lastway Station looked like what it was: a vast and complicated construction that had grown far beyond its original design to accommodate the needs of its local and transient populations. Below it, the planets cloud-wrapped surface was invisible. Two centuries earlier, terraforming had begun on a moderately appropriate base; the information packet supplied by the station to all incoming ships described in detail the processes that continued, but Ky was far less interested in the details of biogeochemical processes than in the price of refreshment cultures for the environmental system and what she could hope to get for the cargo originally consigned to Leonora.
As Lee eased the ship nearer and nearer to the docking booms, Ky reviewed the current list of ships docked, their origins and destinations. Another had been waved off from Leonora, and she learned that the onstation legal services had already certified its cargo as undeliverable, available for resale. At least she didnt have to fight that battle on her own. She called Martin and told him that he could scavenge freely in the Leonora cargo.
Thanks, maam, he said. As it happens, those containers were right handy . . . wont take much time at all . . . The suspicion crossed her mind that he had already taken what he wanted from them, but there was no reason to push the issue. None of the ships on station now seemed like a pirate ready to blow her ship away, but she hadnt spotted Paison as a problem until too late. She had to assume that danger lurked here, everywhere.
Her own ships needs ranged as usual from must-haves like refreshment cultures for the environmental tanks; to very desirable, like better longscan; to wishful thinking, like an insystem drive that would move them faster than a snail on a hot rock. At least she hadnt spent all her money on Belinta.
Lee docked neatly, and the station crew hooked up the support umbilicals. Ky found several small chores to do until she realized she was anxious about opening the hatch, then made herself go down to cargo hold 1 and do it. Martin materialized from one of the cargo hatches, and stood in front of her as the hatch opened.
Lastway Immigration Controlone unarmed and six armedwere waiting at dockside, by their expressions none too patiently. The one without weapons had two forearms on one arm, and a wrist tentacle on the back of the other wrist. Ky managed not to blink in surprise; that was a humod form she hadnt seen before. Eight hundred, cash or trade goods to be valued by an independent assessor, said the humod. The tentacle uncurled elegantly, and the input connectors glinted.
Trade goods, Ky said. She handed the tentacle one of Aunt Gracies diamonds.
Submitted for assessment, the humod said. The tentacle transferred the diamond to that hand, then removed a sealable pouch from a pocket, plucked up the diamond again, and inserted it, then sealed the pouch. You will want a receipt.
I will want an assessor here, at dockside, Ky said.
You think Lastway Immigration Control is dishonest? That with a ferocious scowl.
I think diamonds are too easy to misplace or confuse with other diamonds, Ky said.
I will call. Silent moments, as the humod communicated by interface; then it nodded sharply. Yes. One expert in assessing crystals comes.
Are you from here? Ky asked.
Again the humod scowled. Why ask that?
No insult intended, but your accent is not the same as what I heard from Traffic ControlI merely wished to know which accent is native here, to adjust my interpretation to that norm.
Its face cleared. Ah. You have old tech implant, yes? Mine adjust by self. On input maybe, but the output wasnt. From Vastig, I am, eight years agone taking ship away from sad family. You know Vastig?
No, Ky admitted.
But such ships come there, Vatta Transport. Many ships Vatta hasor had. Someone likes Vatta not.
True enough, Ky said. And I dont know whydo you?
Not I. Others make guesses, only guesses. On Vastig we do not make guesses. We say the truth. But here comes one to assess . . .
Ky looked around to see a man in a dressy business suit; as he came closer, she began to wonder if he, too, were a humod. One eye appeared to have a magnifier built into it, the rim sunken into the skin. When he opened his mouth to speak, his tongue was dark and heavily furred.
Licensed assessor Grill, at your service, he said clearly enough, bowing to both the Immigration Control officer and Ky. A crystal for assessment, yes?
The Immigration Control officer transferred it to Grills handa hand that appeared to be normal, to Kys fascinated gazeand Grill put it into his mouth for a long moment, then spat it back to his hand. Carbon, he announced. Impurities negligible to value. Now the magnifier extended, lenses telescoping from his eye. Cut . . . Melique-cut diamond, crystalline structure excellent, flaws . . . minimal. Value for official purposes 2,443 credits. He handed it back to the Immigration Control officer, who tucked it into the sealed pouch again. Good day, Grill said to the space between them, turned on his heel, and walked away.
Your receipt for a credit balance of 1,643 to be set against docking and service fees, said the Immigration Control officer, handing Ky a hardcopy strip that had just extruded from his lower forearm. Welcome to Lastway and enjoy your stay. Then he and his escort marched off.
Ky shook her head and spoke to the ships intercom. All clear now. I dont see the loader that should be here; Ill contact them and the security company again.
The captain should reenter the ship, Martin said. Ill want to get the net set out. Ill need Jim, Beeah, and Mehar.
       
       
CHAPTER SIX
Before Ky could contact the rental agency, Martin reported that the loader had arrived. He and his crew had already installed the first of the visual scans, so Ky could watch the loader grind across the dock toward the ship and listen in on the conversation with her crew.
Sorry, the operator said. Had to get clearance from Immigration and check your financials. The operator had a gray uniform withRENTALL EQUIPMENT in red on the front and back.
Martin held up a hand. We will need to scan your machine.
Fine. I get paid by the hour; dont hurry. The operator lounged in his seat.
Martin used a long-handled mirror and various other tools to check over, under, and around the loader. Now you, he said. Get down.
Me? Youre only renting the loader; you dont need to scan me.
Oh, I think we do, Martin said. The man shrugged, started to climb down, and suddenly launched himself at Mehar, whipping a knife from his boot. She sidestepped neatly and thrust a short baton into his gut. He folded around it, dropping the knife. Mehar stepped back; Martin moved in, swung the man around, and clipped him smartly on the jaw. Good job, Mehar, he said. Youre a natural at this.
I would rather not be, Mehar said, hooking the baton back on her belt.
Beeah, Jimperimeter. Martins reminder focused the other two on the dock access. Ky watched, fascinated, as Martin secured the mans knife by scooping it into a plastic bag, then fastened his wrists and ankles with cargo cords, as he had done with Jim at first.
Captain
Yes, Ky said. I saw that.
You said station police didnt want to give us protection. Think theyd be interested in taking in a perp?
I suppose wed better ask, Ky said. And Id better talk to the rental company, too.
Threaten them, Martin advised. They sent you a ringer or they were bent to start with.
Ky looked up the emergency numbers and called the station police, here called the Garda. You did what ? was the response of the desk clerk. You cant just hit people and tie them up.
My crew was attacked with a knife, Ky said.
Witnesses? Other than your own crew?
Recorded in video, Ky said.
Oh. Well. Well send someone over.
Who to call next? Getting more security on their dockside seemed more important than wrangling with the rental company. Lastways business directory listed five security services, but only three were bonded and insured: Baritom, Maxx, and Padilla Protection. She had no clue which to pick. The stationmaster, she knew, would not be allowed to give an opinionwho else could?
ISC. They had their own security, but they must use onsite firms for personal protection sometimes, and they would surely know who to contact for dockside surveillance. Ky contacted their Lastway office and asked for the station director.
Whos calling, please?
To ISC, the Vatta name should still be gold-plated, Ky thought. Captain Kylara Vatta, she began, of the
Vatta! Then, Just a minute . . .
Less than a minute, and a gruff male voice barked at her. Who do you think you are, queen of the spaceways? Dont you realize we have better things to do than baby-sit some rich traders brat?
I beg your pardon!
You Vattas are spoiled rotten, the voice went on. Cant wait your turn like everyone else! Think youre special. Well, out here, Captain Vatta, were all citizens and we dont try to cut in line. Youll take your place in the outgoing queue just like everyone else and thats final. The connection blanked.
Ky stared at the console as if it had grown actual teeth, and then called again.
What? said the angry voice shed just heard.
I wasnt trying to cut in line, Ky said. I had a question.
Im not a damned information desk, he said, and cut the connection again.
Ky told herself that everyone at ISC must be under tremendous strain. She still found it hard to believe that the station manager of an obscure office like Lastway could have reason to be that angry with Vatta Transport, or any particular Vatta, but he was, and that was a fact to cope with.
Who else? She scanned the business directory, looking for familiar names. Somewhat to her surprise, Lastway Station had three branches of Hark!, the sectorwide pastry franchise: The original Hark!, in business at this location for 17 years . . . ; Hark! #2, convenient to the financial district ; and Hark! Light: same flavor, less filling. She doubted that theyd have much knowledge of security companies. The Captains Guild? She contacted them.
Im sorry but we consider the Vatta account closed at this time, said the reception clerk as soon as she gave her name. Any services would be on a cash basis only.
Im not planning to stay there, Ky said. I just had a question.
A question? He sounded as if hed never heard of asking a question. What about, then?
What private security companies onstation would you recommend?
The station business directory has a list.
I know that, but only three are bonded. What services have other captains found reliable?
Im afraid, under the circumstances, that I cant take the liability risk of recommending anything in that line. Now if you wanted a recommendation for a good restaurant
Oh, fine, Ky said. The clerk went on, completely missing her tone.
Julians is very nicethey grow their own fresh vegetables, and they have a cultivar of synthibeef thats extremely good. Or, if you prefer seafood, theres Fish Heaven. All local produce
Thank you, Ky said. Thats very nice. I dont suppose you have any idea where I can purchase ordnance?
Ordnance? The clerks voice squeaked. You mean like . . . er . . . weapons?
Exactly, Ky said. It was a forlorn hope, but scaring him looked like the only fun she was going to have.
Well . . . theres always the MilMartExchange, over on Hub Four.
Thank you, Ky said again. Are they in the business directory?
Yes, Captain. UnderHEAVY EQUIPMENT NEW AND USED .
Youve been most helpful, Ky said, her good humor restored. Heavy equipment new and used, huh? Was this why the Sabines had been so suspicious of her farm equipment on the manifest?
She looked at the directory again, shrugged, and called Baritom Security Services because it came first on the list. Baritom Security Services put her on hold long enough to be annoying; then a senior sales representative came on. You can understand that we have concerns about any assignment with a Vatta family member at this timewith Vatta accounts frozen
Hard goods, Ky said. Acceptable to Immigration Control.
Oh. Well . . . the liability risk
I am willing to waive liability where no misconduct by your employees is involved, Ky said. We need dockside security as well as personal escort.
Im afraid we would have to add a surcharge for the additional hazard.
If you add the surcharge, Im less willing to waive liability, Ky said.
Surcharge. Dockside . . . thats a minimum of six personnel, two on each shift. Escort charges vary with shift. When would you want them?
As soon as possible, Ky said. Im uncertain of the duration at this point.
Thats all right. We can have a team at your dockside in . . . fifteen minutes. An escort will be dispatched when you requestwere you needing one this shift?
Ky looked at the chronometer, set now to Lastway Stations standard time. The shift would end in a half hour, and the next shift was mainday or business. She wouldnt get out of here before then. No, not this shift, she said. Ill let you know.
The police still hadnt arrived. Ky looked up MilMartExchange, and found that it occupied almost half of Hub Fours extensive storage holds. Surplus new and used military heavy equipment: no credit was its subhead. No more details available without a personal visit, but she could apply for a customer ID that would, the site said, facilitate entry to the facility for first-time customers. Confidentiality assured. Recommended procedure. Ky hesitated, then decided to apply: anyone interested already knew she was docked here; the public-access ship listing would tell them that. To her surprise, the application consisted of asking for a number; she did not even have to give a name.
She took down the number she was givenfifteen digitsthen looked upWEAPONS , where she found six gun shops listed, ranging from Bernies Knives and Guns, cheap, reliable personal protection, to Blade, Bullet, and Bow blades, firearms, and archery tackle for the discriminating. She looked forORDNANCE and found see heavy equipment, plus a small boxed notice that Lastway was not responsible for the legal status of ships mounting heavy equipmentcaptains should check with their relevant political units.
Sabines concern now seemed more reasonable. And Lastway Stations regulations on personal weaponry were clearly less stringent than those on many other stations. Ky looked at the available live shots of station activity and noticed that a number of the people walking past were obviously armed. Probably others carried concealed weapons.
The directory listed a number of sources for surveillance and security systems, including most of the weapons sources already shown. Vics Precision Protection Supply was closest, on the same sector of the same hub. She had Martins wish list of gadgets and software. No, the first thing was to arrange handling of funds.
All the major quadrant banks had branches here; Ky picked Crown & Spears. Their representative regretted any inconvenience that it might cause, but they had put a lock on Vatta corporate accounts until matters had been adjudicated. Ky had expected that. Did you receive a transfer from Belinta a few weeks ago? It was in my personal account, not a company account.
I regret, madam, that I find no record of such a transfer. The last value we have for madams personal account, based on ansible data, is indeed healthy, but those funds are not presently available because of the ansible failure. In the present crisis, we cannot advance monies based on remote accounts.
Very well, then. I want to open a new account, she said. Were selling cargo here and Ill be making purchases.
It would have to be cash or hard goods, the banks representative said.
Of course, Ky said. Ill courier over about four thousand credits worthusing as a rough guide the official appraisal from Immigration
The face in the screen smiled more naturally now. That will be fine, Captain. Their assessments are often . . . less than we might give, shall we say. And you say you have cargo as well?
Yes. Were unloading now; my cargomaster will be dealing shortly.
Excellent. Nowis this to be a Vatta Transport account, or a personal account?
Personal, Ky said.
Very well. We will await your courier and make funds available as soon as the valuation has cleared.
Ky had just closed the connection when Martin called to her. The Garda are here, he said. Their officer would like to speak with you.
Ill be right out. Baritom Security is sending a couple of personnel to help guard dockside, and Im going to need a courier to Crown & Spears to open an account. Would you say another Baritom agent, or a courier service?
Neither, Martin said. When Baritom takes over dockside coverage here, Ill escort you or a crewmember.
The Garda who met Ky held out a legal notification pad. Make your mark here, madam. Youre being notified of your legal status on this station, your legal rights and obligations . . . Ky read the notification and signed her name. She handed him a data cube with the recording of the mans attack, and he nodded. Well be in touch, he said. One of his fellows took the cargo cords off the operator and put on their own restraints; then they hauled the man away.
Ive got a list of what we need to complete our own perimeter security, Martin said.
Theres a supplier on this hub, not that far away, Ky said. When I get the bank account set upand by the way, I havent contacted the rental company yet. In the meantime, can we start unloading?
Yes, maam. Jim here has convinced me that he does indeed know how to handle one of these thingsI had him move it around while we were waiting for the Garda to show up. He paused, then said, And heres Baritom.
Ky glanced toward the dockside entrance and saw two uniformed men waiting by the entrance. She started forward, but Martin stopped her.
Its my job, he said. If youll just get whatever you need for the bank run . . . and Id recommend Mitt for your courier. He has an implant and he looks nothing like you.
By the time Ky came back, Martin had assigned the two Baritom guards to the dockside entrance and told Alene to open up the nearside cargo hold. Beeah and Mehar were pacing around the dockside; Jim was backing away from the cargo hold with the first stack of containers. Mitt, his face sober, took the packet with two diamonds from Ky and put it in an inner pocket in his tunic.
Shortly thereafter, she had an account with a balance of 5,876 credits and a Crown & Spears credit chip, with authorization code. With that, Vics Precision Protection Supply was willing to send over 648 credits worth of surveillance gear. It arrived just as Martin and Mitt returned from the bank; Martin took charge of it and began installation at once.

Unloading proceeded; Ky looked at the tradehall listings and saw that the Leonoran pharmaceutical components should do very well, bringing much more than they would have on Leonora. Now that she had a bank account, she could list the cargo on the boards, and bids began to come in. She shunted those to Alenes attention. Her own attention focused on what she needed most to make her ship and her crew safer while in port. Any port. The attack on Belinta had involved both firearms and contact poison; they would need their own weapons, personal armor, and antidotes to such poisonsif any existed.
The tricky part would be getting to the small-arms dealers before someone got to her. Martin would come with her, but would that be enough? If she didnt wear Vatta colors, and carried her own weapons after she got them . . . who else in the crew knew how to use any? She paused to ask Martin.
Mehar, of course, was an expert with the pistol bow. It turned out that she had also handled needlers before. Jim, as Ky now began to expect, rather shamefacedly admitted to having handled a variety of weapons.
There were sorta like pirates hanging out in the estuaries near where we farmed. So I kind of picked up some of itand my father, he always hunted even though the landlords didnt like it.
So what do you know enough about to be useful?
Slug throwers. We didnt have stunners and needlers and all those spacer things. Make a big enough hole in it, my dad always said, and youre sure its dead. There was this thing that lived out in the woods, big as a cow, and had these scales on it
Slug throwers . . . handguns or long barrels?
Both, Captain. Now what I really liked, but only got to use once and he was really mad about it, was the mayors Schneider-Watson .44 automatic. Made a lot of noise, it did, but you could put holes in those bitty little pirate speedboats with it. Or give me a rifle like my dad had . . .
How about accuracy? Ky said.
Im pretty good, Jim said with unusual modesty for him. My dad, now, he was a dead shot at any distance, but I qualified top in the marksmanship class for the local militia.
Militia? You were in the militia?
He turned red. Well . . . actually . . . not that long. See, they didnt like my family that much, and when they found Id shot a swamphogwell, three actuallywith one of the militia weapons, they used that as an excuse to kick me out. I dont see whats so wrong about that. I was going to replace the ammunition, and I cleaned up the rifle before I put it back.
Ky bit her lip. It would not do to laugh, but she was beginning to have a good idea what kind of family Jim had come from. They had a few like that on Corleighold George was one of themwho had not, as her father put it, ever moved into the city from the frontier, even after the frontier was settled. You want them on your side, her father had told her. Their virtues werent needed most of the time, but when they were, nothing else would do. So now she had what her father called a bush rat of her very own, and shed better make proper use of him.
She called Martin in to look at the catalogs from the various shops. Martins face was eloquent; she didnt need his verbal comments to second her opinion that Bernies Knives and Guns was out of the running, along with Arms4U. He thought the gun club might have serviceable weapons for the crew, but Ky noticed that the list of available weapons hadnt been updated for several weeks. Blade, Bullet and Bow had top-quality weapons and prices to match, like Terrifield, back home on Slotter Key.
Her fathers personal weapons were all from Terrifield; she had gone there with him once, and remembered the quiet shop with its slightly faded green carpet and old-fashioned display cases where the weapons on display were all antiques, and customers and staff spoke to each other in strings of cryptic numbers. Im looking for a P1400 with the 2137 adapter, shed heard one customer say. And the clerk had retired behind a curtaina bulletproof curtain, her father mentioned laterand returned a moment later with something in a flat gray case. Her father tapped her shoulderrude to stare, that meantand made his own numerical request, which appeared on the counter in a few moments in a dull green case. It had been years before she understood what the numbers meant, and the difference in quality between the weapons there and the ones at Connerys Sporting Goods in Corleigh Town, which all had names as well as numbers: Hotshot 2100, Blastemwhich came in attractive colorsMatchmaker. She shook herself out of that memory, and the surge of fear that her father was dead. She had to hope he wasnt.
Crash, as the obvious favorite shop for law enforcement and military, would have a wide selection and no trashy stuff, but Martin objected. Its got ties to law enforcement; theyll have someone in there who talks to them. Until we know more about how things work here, thats not a good idea. Blades a good choice for your weapons, if you can afford it. Ive heard of them from people whove been here before.

From their docking slot at Hub Two, Hub Four with its multitude of arms merchants could be reached by external shuttle or internal tram, with transfers. Blades, Bullets, and Bows, though in Hub Three, was reasonably close by tram, and on the way to Hub Four, where she planned to visit MilMartExchange. One trip would be safer than several. Martin recommended she take Jim along as well as himself and Beeah.
The boys an obvious gawking tourist, Martin said. Hell be a distraction to others, and anyway hes got to get better shore clothes.
Lastway Station was as bustling and colorful as Belinta had been quiet and dull. Despite the danger, Kys heart lifted at the sight of hurrying pedestrians, bright shop entrances, exotic smells, the dock entrances of other ships, familiar and unfamiliar logos. She wanted to take off and explore, like any giddy apprentice on a first visit to other worlds, but she schooled her pace to a steady walk and managed not to gawk and point the way Jim was.
They reached the interhub tram stop without incident. Martin pointed out to Jim the kind of shore suit he should buy as soon as possible: plain, dark, suitable for any of several occupations. Ky wondered if Jim was paying attention; his eyes were wide. The tram itself was much like those on any station; they bought five-day passes and boarded one of the pressurized cars. Only one other passenger was in their car, a young girl with an obvious schoolbag. She was slumped in a corner, staring at her hand reader.
The tram slid away from its stop, moving smoothly through the translucent transport tube between hubs. Ky craned her neck, trying to orient herself to the whole station, but it was impossible. Hubs two and three and their arms blocked most of her view. The planet below was beneath the cars opaque floor. Her stomach lurched as the tram spanned between the artificial gravity of Hub Two and Hub Three, then they were pulling into the Hub Three tram stop as the usual voice synthesizer announced Approaching Hub Three station. All Hub Three passengers transfer here to Hub Three radial trams. Approaching Hub Three station. All Hub Three passengers . . . The schoolgirl didnt look up as Ky and her crewmembers rose.
Hub Three, where passenger liners docked, had a fancier tram station. Sound-reducing tiles covered the floor and walls in an attractive blue, green, and beige pattern. Instead of ticket machines, there was an information booth with a live clerk behind the window. Ky had already looked up the location of the shopless than a hundred meters from the tram stationso she turned right and found herself in a passage with obviously expensive shops on either side.
Past a haberdashery, a jewelers, a window display of fine china and crystal, a window with two lengths of velvet on which rested three silver salvers, she came to the windows of Blade, Bullet, and Bow: on the right, a pair of swords like something out of legend leaned against tall black boots and a cocked hat with a plume; on the left, a fan-shaped array of arrows around a recurved bow. The door had no handle, just a button. Ky pushed it.
The door opened; she faced a slender middle-aged man, clean-shaven, in a gray suit as plain as her own and as well tailored. Behind him, at a discreet distance, was another man whom Ky knew would be armed. May I help you? the man said. As he spoke, his gaze slid past her to Martin, Beeah, and Jim, then back to her face.
I want to buy a personal weapon, Ky said.
Meaning no disrespect, madam, but if you are a stranger to this station, there are less expensive shops . . .
But not, I suppose, those carrying better quality, Ky said, smiling.
No, madam. Would madam care to step in? I am Andrew Barris. He said that as if she should know the name.
Thank you, Ky said. May my escort attend?
He looked past her again. Perhaps madam would feel secure with only one?
Of course, Ky said. She turned. Martin, two of you can wait outside.
Beeah, Jim, stay close to the shop, Martin said.
Ky smiled again at the salesman. You will of course wish to ensure that he is not armed.
Now the smile widened. Madam is perceptive. Ardin: you may proceed.
Martin quirked an eyebrow. Standard Arms 11 mm, shoulder holster. I presume youd rather I didnt reach for it?
Is that all?
The only firearm, yes.
Would you remove the holster harness?
Be glad to. Martin removed his tunic and shrugged out of the harness. The store employee took it carefully, without touching Martins weapon, and placed it on the counter before running a hand scanner over Martin.
Then he nodded at his employer, who nodded at Ky.
How may we serve you? was the next question.
Im thinking a 10 or 11 millimeter Rossi-Smith, with whatever ammunition is legal for everyday carry on this station. Frangibles? Spudders?
The mans eyes widened just slightly. Is this for yourself, madam, or your . . . um . . . escort?
This would be for me, Ky said, smiling. When I shoot someone, I expect them to stay down awhile.
He looked at her as if he wanted to say more, but didnt immediately speak. When he did, his voice was even softer. We have a number of weapons of that caliber. We have three ten-millimeter Rossi-Smiths in the shop at present. Two are customized, one with rose-gold inlay and floral carving on the grip. Im sure madam would like to see the one with rose-designed
The plain one, please, Ky said. For just an instant he stared.
Wait one moment, please, he said. And if I could just have madams credit references?
Cash, Ky said. She did not want some spy at the bank to know exactly what her weapons were. His eyebrows went up and his lips tensed. Ky went on. Perhaps you would be good enough to switch on the excellent site security Im sure you have. I would then be glad to explain. His mouth was still tight, but he nodded, pressed a button, then brought out from beneath the desk one of the squat cylinders Ky recognized.
The outer perimeter is now shielded to most scanners, he said. This completes the acoustic shielding, and the windows behind the display cases are one-way. Is madam satisfied?
Thank you, Ky said. My name is Kylara Vatta. His lips twitched; she nodded. Yes, that Vatta family. As you clearly are aware, my family is under attack. I was in transit when the trouble started and know no more than whats in the newsfeeds. I have been informed that the local station considers Vatta corporate accounts unreliable and is demanding cash; I assumed that you would follow suit. If I have insulted your honor, please accept my apologies.
His face softened. My dear . . . madam . . . I understand completely. If the local financial institutions have frozen Vatta accounts, then you are right. Im sorry to say that because of our location, so far from the center of humanspace, we are unable to offer credit if local accounts are frozen. However, we would be pleased to accept barter, if you do not, perhaps, have access to local supplies of cash.
My cargos selling, Ky said. And Ive opened a separate account; I expect to have access to cash shortly. However, in addition to purchasing a weapon from you, I wanted to ask your advice on two things. First, I have some . . . er . . . family valuables that I could sell, but I have no idea who would give me an honest price. I have had to rely, so far, on assessors attached to Immigration.
I understand your concern, madam. As for the valuables . . . it depends on the type. Items of historical value, or precious materials?
Materials, Ky said.
He glanced at her case. With you, perhaps?
A portion, Ky said. She slipped her fingers into the pouch and removed one diamond. This, for instance.
He nodded, showing no emotion. Quite nice, he said, as if customers laid diamonds on the counter every day. Perhaps they did. We can arrange immediate appraisal; the firm we use is certified by interstellar convention and bonded. Is that satisfactory? I am already persuaded that your items are of sufficient value to cover any likely purchases.
Quite, Ky said.
He opened a drawer and laid the Rossi-Smith on the pad in front of her. She picked up the weapon. Perfectly plain, the grip of some dark . . . Wood? she asked. It felt organic, but not quite like wood.
No, madam. Thats bloodbeast tusk, from Xerion. It shares with Old Earth ivory the characteristic of remaining grippy even if ones hands should sweat, but it has much better impact resistance. Madam will note that the action is the classic 1701 model, rather than the newer 1900
Which tends to develop a stick with repeated rapid fire, Ky said.
Exactly, he said, smiling. Perhaps madam would like to try it out on our range?
Indeed yes, Ky said. She followed him through a curtain, down a narrow passage, and then into a two-person gallery. Here he offered ear protectors, goggles, and discreet assistance; the rounds he gave her were clearly marked target rounds. She loaded, lined up, and fired; the trigger pull had just enough resistance, and the recoil, with the target round, was negligible. Her first three shots were in a line, left to right, across the middle of the target. Drat, she said mildly. Its been too long.
Not bad, he said. But you were rushing.
She tried again, this time remembering all the tricks her father had taught her, and produced a tight cluster.
Better, he said, as if he were her instructor. He probably was. You are aware, madam, of the difficulty of hitting targets in variable g?
It was something theyd studied in the Academy; Ky remembered the frustration, on that trip to the Academys own orbiting training station. Oh yes, she said, perhaps a bit too fervently. Luckily, Im not going to be shooting at anyone whos not shooting at me . . . She took another clip of target rounds, loaded, and placed the group in half the area of the last one.
Very nice, madam. Now, station regulations limit the permissible ammunition loads to frangibles and chemical immobilizers, no . . . er . . . spudders. Rounds with total delivery force small enough to avoid structural damage to the station, of course. For this model, we recommend the Rossi-approved PF for a frangible round, and the CPF, which encapsulates the latest legal release of an immobilizermarker combination. Dispersal is limited by droplet size to within a meter of the impact point, so there is minimal collateral involvement.
Does the station management have a preference?
Some criminals do wear protective gear, which of course limits the utility of the frangible rounds
Personal armor, Ky said. I meant to ask about that, too.
We carry protective gear, of course, in a range of sizes and price points.
Id better take a look, Ky said. And yes, Ill take this one. How much trouble did she expect to have? Ill take another two clips to sight in with, and then five each of PF and CPF.
And perhaps a holster and concealed carry permit? The background check is, I assure madam, brief and discreet. If madams escort does not already have one, it would be advisable to obtain one for him, as well.
She had not carried a weapon on her person except for forays into the woods back home, where a very obvious holster on the hip was fine. Im thinking, she said with a smile, reaching for the next clip.
Her bill mounted up. Weapon, ammunition, carrying case, cleaning kit Alas, madam, no one has ever been able to make a firearm perfectly self-cleaning . . . permit to carry openly or concealed, and finally the wearable protection. Here the top-grade torso armor was so thin and flexible that she found it hard to believe it would do any good. Barris put it over a human form whose base wobbled when he nudged it, stood it up in one of the lanes, and fired at it. The torso model on its pole barely moved; the armor stiffened, changed color, and the light towel he hung down the back appeared scorched brown when he lifted it to show her.
One-way heat radiation, madam. Substantially reduces impact effect, as well as protecting against penetration. Only recently licensed for civilian use, though supposedly its been available in the black market for several years. Not that I would trust my life to that version. His expression reminded Ky of a cat that had accidentally stepped in something abhorrent.
She tried on one of the vests in her size. Not much heavier than a wool vest, and surprisingly comfortable. It fit invisibly under her business suit. Serious assassins go for the head, of course, Barris said apologetically. We cant armor that without being obvious, which I gather is not madams desire.
I would prefer to be inconspicuous, yes, Ky said.
We can offer basic torso protection to your security personnel at competitive prices. After all, the profit on what youre getting for yourself covers our cost of stocking it went unsaid. Merchant to merchant, Ky looked at him. He smiled. She smiled back. Well, if someone took a shot at her people while she was getting from here to Hub 4, she would feel guilty for leaving them unprotected.
Economy is a factor, she said.
Of course, madam. I shall be glad to call up the current price points from the other onstation dealers . . .
Quite all right, Ky said. No need to say she had already. He would assume she had.
Somewhat to her surprise, just one of Aunt Gracies diamonds covered the entire cost with credit left over.
Fitting Martin with a conventional vest took only a few minutes, but when Ky went to call Jim and Beeah inside, they were no longer near the door. Instead, Jim was crouched near the display window of the china shop with Beeah standing over him.
Whats wrong? Ky asked. Are you all right?
I am, but look at this . . . He turned and stood, cradling in his arms a small black-and-white animal with stiff, spiky fur. Someones been messing it aboutI found it in the rubbish bin, trying to get out.
What is that? Ky asked. Bright black eyes, little black nose, and the moist pink tongue that suggested Old Earth origin. Hairy, so a mammal of some kind. She glanced around and saw that Jim had indeed dismantled a rubbish bin to get it out, leaving trash strewn about. And youd better clean up the mess you made before someone fines us for littering.
Jim stared at her as if shed said she didnt know what two plus two was. Its a puppy, he said. A terrier puppy. Hereyou can hold him while I pick this up. He shoved the wriggling little animal into her arms and turned; the puppy promptly fastened onto Kys hand with sharp little teeth.
Ow! she said. Beeah came up beside her. HereI expect were now in trouble for harboring an unlicensed animal onstation, but at least we can contain it. And it bites, Ky added, as the puppy fastened its teeth on Beeahs thumb.
I noticed, Beeah said, but he was grinning, prying open the puppys jaws to retrieve his thumb. He offered the puppy the cuff of his suit, and the puppy worried it, growling.
I hope it doesnt piddle on you, Ky said. Jim stuffed the last of the trash back into the container and set the lid on. Come on, she said to him. Lets get you fitted.
Some guard you are, Martin muttered to Beeah, as Ky led Jim back to the shop. He had retrieved his weapon and followed her out. What did you think you were doing?
When she came back, trailed by Jim, Beeah had the puppy cradled along one arm, upside down, and was stroking its belly. He handed it to Jim, reluctantly it seemed, while Martin rolled his eyes. Fitting Beeah also took only a short time; Ky accepted her change in local currency, and excused herself. She arrived outside just in time to see an obvious station guard staring at the sight with disgust. The guard moved across the passage toward them.
You there! he said. Do you have a license for that animal?
       
       
CHAPTER SEVEN
This had not been part of her plan. Its not our Ky said, but Jim blurted, Not yet. She glared at him.
Youll have to come along now, the guard said, flicking open what Ky was sure was a combination comunit and data entry. Exposing the station to an unlicensed animal . . . where are you people from, anyway? His gaze roved over Jims unattractive rumpled Belinta tunic, which, Ky noticed, failed to completely conceal his brand-new armor. The guards gaze sharpened. Wearing armor, eh? And you, youre carrying a weapon . . . Now he was glaring at Ky.
She tilted her head back to the doorway of Blade, Bullet, and Bow. Weve just come out
And put the animal in the waste can while you were in there? Do you have any idea?
I didnt put it there, Jim said. It was in there, whimpering and scratching, poor thing, and I couldnt leave it
Is that true? the guard asked Ky.
I was inside, Ky said. I didnt hear it. When I came out, he was holding it . . .
Uh-huh. Well, its in your possession now, and if this is your employee, youre responsible for it, and for not having a proper license and health papers for it . . . and how about a license for that weapon?
Ky fished her new license out of her pocket. Here.
He glanced at it. All right then. Come along to the office and take care of this . . . He glared at the puppy.
Never argue with law enforcement in the street, her father had told her. Go pleasantly along to the office, cooperate, and youll be done much faster. So probably it was only seeming to take an hour, Ky thought, to follow the guard along the passage, past stores that changed gradually from the upper margin of the upper crust to the solid commercial filling of any major space station that saw a lot of traffic. And there was the guard office for this arm of Hub Three, with its hull-quality door standing wide open.
Whats this, Mally? asked the man behind the desk.
Unlicensed animal. Claim they found it in a trash bin, but it seems to know him . The guard jerked a thumb at Jim, who still cradled the puppy along his forearm; it looked asleep.
Fines two hundred credits a day, crate license fifty credits, out-of-crate license one hundred credits, both require health certificate available from any onstation veterinarian and you can look them up in the business directory using a public-access com line or if its not your animal or you wish it destroyed that will be two hundred credits fine, ten credits disposal fee, payable immediately by cash or approved credit line only . . . The desk clerk rattled this off in a rapid monotone, then looked up. Name, ship name, names of all persons who have contacted this . . . whatever it is . . . ?
Jim Hakusar, from Gary TobaiIm the one who found it in the trash container. He was crying and trying to get out
And you are . . . ? The clerk looked at Beeah.
Beeah Chok, same ship.
Gordon Martin, same ship.
Captain Vatta, Gary Tobai, Ky said.
Ahyoure armed, Mally says. Your permit number? Ky handed the permit over. Um. Not in the databasewhats the date on this? Oh, today. I guess you wont have any trouble paying the fines for your pet, then, will you, shopping at Blades? Though if its really not yours, youd be smart to let us get rid of it.
No, Jim said. Ky looked at him. You cant let them kill a puppy, he said.
What do we need with a puppy? Ky asked. Jim gave her a stricken look.
Dogs can be useful, Martin said. Dockside, I mean. This ones very small
Hes a puppy, Jim said. Hell grow. Ill bet hell be fierce.
He wont be much trouble, Beeah murmured. Ky looked at him in surprise. She hadnt known Beeah had any interest in animals.
Up to you, the clerk said. Theres also the mandatory decontamination and observation period for personnel in contact with an unlicensed animal lacking health papers. You can locate the nearest clinic in the business directory using any public-access comlink . . .
The puppy opened one limpid eye, squirmed, and piddled down Jims front.
An astonishing amount of money later, Ky looked at her protectors with less than favor. You two made enough commotion that any enemy we might have now knows where we are, what were wearing, and that Im armed. Next time just smash a window and start screaming obscenities, why dont you?
All right . . . , Jim said, looking worried. But how do I know when?
Ky appealed to deities shed heard of and didnt believe in. The puppy, now listed as Puddles in the vets database, was being inspected, disinfected, and would be delivered the next day. The vet had informed her that it was almost certainly a purebred, a Jack Russell terrier. She privately thought of it as another kind of jack-something-terrier, but didnt mention that. She and the others had been through a standard decontamination procedure, which had turned the damp patch on Jims tunic bright blue, though the technician insisted it would return to normal color later.
Its coming out of your salary, she reminded Jim. He and Beeah had agreed to split the cost of the fines and vet care.
Hell be a help, Jim said. He can guard the dockside, like Martin said.
Not until its grown, Ky said. And puppies that size dont grow into guard dogs. She plugged into another link and called the ship on a secure line. Quincy answered. Were fine, Quincy. Just had to see a man about a dogno, really. Jim found a stray puppy and had to rescue it.
I thought that was your strategy, Quincy said, with a bite that Ky recognized as relief.
Not this time, Ky said. Were just now leaving Hub Three for Hub Four. Ill check in when we get there.
Waityouve messages. A sealed hardcopy from someone named MacRobert, originating at Slotter Key, and a call from that security firm, Baritom. They said call them back.
MacRobert again? What did Master Sergeant MacRobert of the Slotter Key Spaceforce Academy want with her? How big is the package? Ky asked.
Small. Not too heavy. You think its a trap or something?
No. Just put it in my cabin; Ill get to it later.
Well, Baritom really wanted you to call back.
Ky muttered, but took down the number and called them.
Captain Vatta, said the voice on the phone. Our dockside staff reported that you left the secured area . . . did you not wish an escort?
She was about to refuse, when she thought to ask Martin.
You can send Jim backtell him to buy some clothes on the wayand have the escort meet us, he said. Id like a chance to assess their personnel.
Fine. Ky turned back to the combooth. Im presently at Hub Three, second ring, green sector. Im on my way to Hub Four. If your agent meets me at the tram station
We prefer to have the operative meet the subject at a secure location.
She was already behind schedule. She did not want to return to the Garda station to meet an escort. But surely MilMart counted as a secure location.
MilMartExchange, she said. Hows that? Otherwise, itll be after I get back to the ship, some hours from now.
That will be adequate, the voice said. We supply our operatives with the usual identification kits. You are not at a secured com outlet now
No, Ky said. Im sure MilMart has one.
All right. We will provide you with the operatives code there.
Ky shook her head as she turned away.
What? Beeah asked.
Just the day. Jim, you head back to the shipyou have your tram pass, right? I know Martin suggested you buy clothes on the way, but Id rather have you safe on the ship. In factMartin, should Jim go back alone? Shouldnt I send Beeah with him?
No, he should be fine for now, Martin said. Youre more likely to be attacked than he is; Id rather have backup with us.
Ky turned to Jim again. Remember what Martin told you. Be careful, go straight back. No more puppies, kittens, lost children, or whatever else comes into your path. Martin, their agent will meet me at MilMart.
Ill bet its a trick, Jim said. Ky eyed him with disfavor.
Nothing like your trick of getting us in trouble with the law, she said. Go on, now. I want you back on the ship by the time I call Quincy from Hub Four.
The tram to the next hub was much the same, though this time their car held two women chatting, both with small children in tow, and a man in a shipsuit with a Navarre ship patch. With them in line was another woman with a small child, who greeted the first two cheerfully and sat down in the next row. From their greetings, Ky learned that they met every ten days, taking their children to a play area on Hub Five. She watched one of the children wipe a sticky red hand along the seat, leaving a smear.
Now, Donal . . . what do you think wipes are for? said one woman, cleaning up the smear and handing the child the wipe. He tried to stuff it into his mouth, and she took it away.
At Hub Four, Ky stepped out and spotted the next mother of the bunch, with a baby in arms and a pair of twins clinging to her legs. Behind her, the Hub Four station was even plainer than that in Station 2: gray industrial flooring, cream tile walls. When they came out into the passage, it had none of the amenities of Hub Three. Signs advertised ship storesnone, Ky was sure, with gold-eye raspberries or fancy sliced meatshand and power tools, parts and fittings, navigation software, navigation hardware, tech modules for cranial implants, shipsuits and patches. Ky paused to call and let Quincy know theyd arrived, checked the directory display to be sure she was oriented correctly, and led the way down the passage. Here were the front offices of the yards that performed major repairs and replaced spacecraft engines or entire environmental systems.
Ky had checked the locations she wanted before she left her own ship, and knew they had to work their way inward two rings and then left. Just behind the shops to their left were the warehouses of MilMart, but the access was somewhere else. She assumed it gave the MilMart surveillance ample time to collect good clear images before someone arrived on their doorstep, or whatever they had instead.
They had passed the first ring crossing and were almost to the next when Kys eye was caught by a familiar symbol. Here? She looked again. A narrow storefront bore the neat legendMACKENSEE MILITARY ASSISTANCE CORPORATION: YOUR PROBLEMSOUR SOLUTION . She slowed. It was one of a row of storefronts, all of which appeared to be mercenary offices, between Barkleys BestGOT WAR? GET THE BEST! BARKLEYS!and Answenia Military Advisers,EXPERIENCE COUNTS .
Now thats interesting, Beeah said.
What? Martin said. He followed their gaze. Oh . . . mercenaries. Which group was it you ran into, maam?
Mackensee, Ky said. Martin nodded and said nothing more. She wondered if these Mackensees had heard about Sabineabout her. Surely they had. Surely if . . . if Vatta was completely destroyed, she could always join them, as theyd offered before. She pushed that thought away. Vatta would survive; she would ensure that Vatta survived. The nagging question of how, she ignored for the moment.
Around the corner to the left, large red letters announced the entrance to MilMartExchange in three languages. Armed guardsnot the station Gardastood outside. A steady stream of customers went in and out.
There it is, said Beeah. What are you going to get, Captain?
What we can afford, Ky said. Which certainly wont be all I want or all we need.
The guards at the door seemed to pay no attention to her, but just inside the entrance to MilMart was a check station where Ky gave her customer ID number. She and her entourage then put on ID wristbands, and a door opened that led into a room of vidscreens. You can look at the catalog here, and if theres something you want, ring for assistance to go into the back and look at it. There are secured comlinks if you need to check with your financial institution.
Ky called back to Baritom and exchanged recognition codes with the office, then told a MilMart employee that if anyone asked for Ambergris, it was for her. The employee nodded with such complete boredom that Ky realized a lot of people probably made contact here in this well-lighted, well-guarded place.
Then she turned to the catalog. Her first look almost made her gasp. Here were no circumlocutions: the main divisions wereORDNANCE, DEFENSIVE; ORDNANCE, OFFENSIVE; ORDNANCE CONTROL SYSTEMS; DEFENSIVE HARDWARE AND SOFTWARE; SMALL ARMS; andIFF SYSTEMS . Each was divided into ship-based, spacenon-ship-based, and ground-based. She was partway downORDNANCE, DEFENSIVE, SHIP-BASED, SELF-POWERED when she spotted familiar names and numbers. She blinked. The Slotter Key Spaceforce would choke if they knew their supposedly first-run ship weapons were being sold to anyone with the money out here. Thornbat missiles? She scrolled through toDEFENSIVE HARDWARE AND SOFTWARE . DeepPilot stealthing systems? This couldnt be surplus; scuttlebutt at the Academy had been that funding was too short for DeepPilot to be installed on all the cruisers, let alone the smaller ships. She glanced at Martin, at an adjoining station. His face looked grimmer than usual; she wondered what he thought, finding his worlds advanced weaponry for sale to anyone with enough credits.
The catalog seemed to have something from everyones arsenal, in fact. Items coded as FmPr in the catalog turned out to be manufactured by FarmPower on Sabine Prime . . . ground-based armored vehicles and heavy equipment for preparing landing sites and fortifications. Nothing from Belintashe had scrolled to the list of source manufacturersbut dozens of other systems had contributed their bit. She wondered if it was all stolen . . . but the important thing was, enough money and you could outfit a space fleet from here. Considering those mercenaries offices, quite possibly someoneseveral someonesdid.
Not that everyone could afford it . . . she blinked again at the prices, mentally calculating what she had to spend. Not enough, not nearly enough. Shed been taught that war was expensive; shed memorized the estimated costs given in classthe Reandi Incursion 2.3 times as costly as the Belaconti Uprisingbut shed never considered what it might take to convert one small ship from an old, slow, unarmed trader to a fast, powerful raider. All Aunt Gracies diamonds wouldnt put a dent in her wish list.
Raider? She paused, not really seeing the page of display in front of her. She had come here looking for ways to protect the ship from Vattas enemies. When had her intentions slipped sideways into something like . . . raider? Dangerously close to pirate, that was. Privateer, came a whisper in her mind, if she had authorization from the government.
But what else was there, for one captain and one small vessel? Nothing she could put on the shipeven if she could afford the stealth package, the point defense missile system and its software, and a faster insystem drivewould really protect them against the kind of enemies she seemed to face. She couldnt trade effectively while evading pursuitgood cargo ships were predictable, reliable; thats what customers paid for. On-time delivery. Guarantees of complete cargo.
Captain? Beeah spoke suddenly.
Yes, Beeah, she said, not looking at him, seeing instead the narrowing funnel of choices facing her, none of them good. If she could not use her ship as Vatta had always used their ships, what could she do with it? With her crew? With that idiot puppy? Could she really become a raiderher mind shied away from pirateand attack other ships? And if she could, mentally, take that on, what would it take in resources?
If you can give me a budget, I can prioritize upgrades on the basic functions, Beeah said.
Thats what Im thinking about, Ky said. Maybe we should have waited until wed sold our cargo, so wed know what our resources are. I can estimate, butthis is not a place where I want to come up short.
I see that. The cargos selling, though, isnt it?
I certainly hope so. Let me just check with the ship and see how its going . . . She signed on to the secure com again, and called her crew.
More offers are coming in, Alene said. The only other tradeship in the past two weeks had a totally different cargo mix, so the markets on our side.
Good, Ky said. Youve got the account number for deposits.
Excuse me, Captain Vatta? That was a MilMart employee. Theres a person wishing to speak to you. He says hes from Baritom Security Services, and he gave the correct countersign.
Thanks, Ky said. Ill come out. Beeah, you wait here; I wont be long. Then to Alene, Go on and make the best deals you can. We want to move the Leonora consignments first. Ill be back in a few hours.
Back through the door, into the anteroom, with Martin at her heels. Baritom Security Services outfitted its agents in brown with green facings. Willem Turnish was a little taller than Ky, appeared to be middle-aged but fit, with warm brown eyes. Captain Vatta? He held out a datapak.
Yes, Ky said. Your code, please?
He rattled it off, word and number both; Ky replied with hers, and then inspected the datapak. Name, height, weight, thumbscanshe held it out and he pressed his thumb to the plate, which flashed green. So he was what he claimed to be.
She handed the datapak back and glanced at Martin. His face conveyed no message at all.
Ill probably be another hour here, she said. You can wait out here, orif theres a caf nearby
Ill wait here, Turnish said, gesturing to a bench along one wall.
Fine, Ky said.
When she came back to the terminals, she turned to Martin. Well?
He shook his head. Hes a professional; hes armed; he has the right codes. I cant tell how competent he is, from that brief an encounter, but he has the look of someone with experience. I can tell more after weve been on the street with him.
Ky turned to Beeah. Beeah, if you went back to the ship, now youve seen the catalog, you could discuss with Quincy what theyve got, and how it might fit our hull. And you could get Alenes best guess on what our cargo might bring.
If youre sure, Captain, Beeah said.
Martins with me, Ky said. With the escort, thats twotwo should be enough. Besides, Im wearing armor now, and Ive got my new toy. She patted the holster.
More dangerous than you look, Beeah said, grinning. Ill be off, then.
Ky turned back to the catalog. If she bought the defensive suite, item number 34-5000-89357, then she could justmaybeafford the single launcher installation, item number 68-4322-7639. But the only reason to have a launcher was . . . to attack other ships. Other defenseless ships: a single launcher was too puny to go against real warships or better-armed pirates.
She could not do it. To become a pirate, a thief . . . that would end Vatta, even if she herself lived, became wealthy, tried to reconstitute the organization. If Slotter Key had turned on her familya mystery that she could not solve here and nowthey would certainly not authorize her to be a privateer. Nor did she have the resources to make a living on the run without raiding. She would have to . . . to what? Admit they were all doomed? Not that, either. Run? Run where? To another sector, far across the spaces where Vatta had traded, back to the old worlds her family had once fled? Out to the unknown worlds beyond the Rift?
She leaned her head on her hand, refusing all those choices, and unable to think of any others. No, she had to think and she could not think. The self she had been in the crisis at Sabinethe self who had taken quick, decisive actionseemed to have vanished, leaving a sour confusion behind.
Sighing, she stretched and exited the catalog to look at the information on purchase agreements. She could put items on hold with no deposit for twenty-four hours, or with a deposit for up to five days. In hard, cold, rational analysis, they needed that defensive suite in any case. In fact, they needed a better one. Item 35-4571-983324 would be ideal, but the catalog listed only one in stock. She put a hold on it, no deposit. That at least would give her time to think. Could Quincy install it? Would they have to find someone else who could?
Back to the list. If offensive ordnance was too expensive and only good for preying on others, what about defensive?ORDNANCE, DEFENSIVE, SHIP . Ky looked down the list. If they had Slotter Key ordnance, maybe theyd have . . . yes. Mines, self-powered, autostabilizing, Model 87-TR-5003. Top of the line, as far as senior students at the Academy knew. Compared to the other ordnance, mines were economical, even cheap. Nor did they take up much space. If you understood how to use themand she had written a paper on the use of passive and active defensive systems, including minesthey could be very effective. Of course, there were a lot of complications, including the inherent instability of anything in space: mines drifted with gravitational forces, and eventually their self-powered ability to correct their drift wore out, leaving lethal hazards scattered in unknowable locations.
But Ky was willing to make the universe more hazardous for others, if it would save her own ship. She put a hold on the mines, too. If she took that defensive suite, she could just barely afford fifteen mines. You cant ever have too much ammunition, one of her instructors had said. Maybe some of their cargo would bring premium prices.
She collected Martin, checked out of the catalog viewing area, and picked up her escort. He preceded her to the exit, and certainly seemed to be competent in his check of the passage outside. Unlike the hapless Jim, he would not be plucking puppies from waste cans. That thought reminded her of another errand.
Do you know a shop near here, or on our way back to the interhub tram, that carries pet supplies? she asked.
Pet supplies?
It was an unusual question, but he didnt have to sound that amused.
Pet supplies, she said again. We have acquired a . . . mmm . . . puppy. Itll be released from quarantine tomorrow.
Let me check . . . He looked momentarily blank, accessing his implant, then he nodded. BioExotics, down this way, he said, gesturing to a cross-passage ahead of them. Above the official numbered designation, someone had added a pink-and-green sign withWILLOW LANE in curly letters.
Its lunchtime, Martin said quietly. How about a stop for something to eat? Ky glanced at him; hed mentioned before the security risks of public eating places. Was this part of his assessment of their escort? Ky started to refuse, but her own stomach growled.
Theres a caf on the corner, her escort said.
Fine. A quick lunch, then. Martin didnt say anything, and when she looked at him, his face was impassive.
The caf was not crowded, in the postlunch period, but the smells from the kitchen were all good. Mindful of Martins earlier lecture, she went to a table against a wall and placed herself with the wall at her back. Martin sat on her right, facing the door squarely; Turnish flanked her, sitting across from Martinwhich put his back to the door, but facing the kitchen hatch. She offered Turnish a meal; he said hed eaten before he came on duty. Even though she was paying for his time, Ky felt subtly pressured by his stolid demeanor, as if she were eating in front of an instructor. An escort shouldnt involve himself in chitchat, true, but Turnish radiated patience at a level that felt impatient. Ky worked her way through a delicious soup and fresh-baked bread that made it clear how this caf stayed in business. Martin, she noticed, had inhaled a thick sandwich while hardly taking his gaze off the door.
Out in Willow Lane, late first-shift meant almost no traffic. Turnish led the way past open shop doors in which no one appeared . . . a succession of small businesses: laundry and cleaners, bakery, used-clothing stores, hand-tool repair, sign studio. It could have been afternoon in a small town. Ky relaxed. Yes, it would be easy for an assassin to set up on a quiet street, but who knew shed be coming down this way? Any rational assassin would assume shed head straight back to her ship.
Look out! Turnish said suddenly and started to turn toward her.
Ky dove for the deck, shoving Turnish aside; he fell beside her. The first two shots missed all of them by a meter. Ky glanced back at Martin; he had his weapon out and squeezed off a shot as she watched. She braced herself on her elbows and looked for her target. There . . . peeking out of the doorway of Andys Tailor Shop ahead of them. She squeezed off one round of CPF; she saw the assailants body jerk, withdraw, then topple slowly out into the passage. The weapon fell with a clatter. A familiar surge of satisfaction pulsed through her. No time for that . . . Ky looked for cover, and the backup. There would be another; whoever was doing this would not have hired a single shooter. Nothing. No one came to the door of the shopof any shopto look. She could feel the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. A doorway to the right gaped empty only a meter or so away. She tapped Turnishs leg with one hand, looking past him for more trouble.
Move to cover, she said. Four oclock. Ill cover you.
I dont think so, Turnish said, rolling over. Her breath stopped as she stared down the bore of his weapon . . . Thats really big ran through her head in a soprano squeak. The man grinned. Checkmate, Vatta. Game over.
She could not move fast enough; her weapon was offline, aimed at where trouble had been, not where it was. She knew she could not move fast enough, and that knowledge made it impossible to move at all. He kept smiling, clearly aware of her thoughts, of her fear, of her weapons position. Her throat was dry; icy sweat trickled down her spine. Martin couldnt possiblybut then noise blasted her ears, and the mans head exploded in a spray of blood and brains before she even saw what it was Martin was doing.
Breath rushed back into her lungs in a gasp. Ky swiped at the mess on her face. You
I wasnt sure until he turned on you, Martin said. Sorry. He couldve been just careless, about the caf. Get on into that doorway. Still no alarmthe passage might have been empty. Perhaps it was. Perhaps everyone had been paid to go have a midshift snack or something.
The dead mans weapon lay farther away than Ky expected . . . with his hand still on it. Martin must have fired two shots, thenthat fast?
Not that it mattered now. What mattered now was getting some official help. Cautiously, she eased into the doorway shed spotted and looked for a com port. The one in the red booth three shops down was far too exposed, but most stations had them in more discreet locations as well.
Before she located one, she heard the shrill whistle of approaching law enforcement.
       
       
CHAPTER EIGHT
Too bad, Martin murmured. I suppose were in for the traditional bad quarter hour.
I hope its only that, Ky said. Weve already been a problem twice today.
Yes, youll have quite a reputation when were done here, he said. It wasnt quite a chuckle. Youre . . . remarkably calm for someone who just killed someone and was nearly killed herself. Is it calm, or are you in shock?
Im supposed to know? Ky said. I dont feel panicky, if thats what you mean. A little worried about the men with the uniforms.
I presume youve been told how to behave when arrested?
Oh, yes. But Id just as soon not spend another hour facedown on the floor, like I did on Belinta.
On Belintabut you were nearly killed on Belinta.
And one of the men who tried to kill me was thoroughly killed.
By?
Me, Ky said. I thought you knew.
No; I heard about the mutineers on your ship. I knew this wasnt your first.
The first for this weapon, Ky said, tucking it back into its holster as the first guard came into view. Martin had already holstered his.
The Gardaanother two had entered from the far endwere fully armored, weapons out. Someone out of sight had a loudhailer. Anyone in this area, come out with your hands up!
Thats us, Ky said. Here we go. She put her hands up, and stepped out of the doorway, Martin beside her, hoping that no other sniper remained. Her skin tightened, but no one shot her.
Any more of you? asked the loudhailer. Whoever had it must also have a view of the passage.
No, Ky said. Not on our side.
The armed guards moved in. Armed? one of them asked.
Yes, Ky said. Automatic in waist holster; three rounds fired. Safetys on.
One of the guards plucked it out gingerly and put it in a safe hanging from his shoulder.
Yes, Martin said, with a glance at her. Shoulder holster, Standard Arms 11 mm, and the safety is on. The guard removed this weapon and dropped it into the safe as well.
He turned back to Ky. ID?
Kylara Vatta, of Gary Tobai, Ky said. This is my crewman Gordon Martin.
After a moment, the guard said, Youve had contact with the law twice already today: an altercation at your dockside, and possession of an unlicensed animal.
We found that unlicensed animal, Ky said.
And I suppose you just found some dead bodies?
No. We were coming along this passage when someone started shooting at us. We hit the deck; I got that one Ky nodded to the body in the street some thirty meters away. and this one, who was assigned to me by Baritom Security, supposedly a fully licensed escort guard. He turned on me, close range.
Excuse me?
The back of Kys neck prickled, a signal she was in no mood to ignore. Could we go to the station, please? Two people tried to kill me today. Id like to get off the street and into cover.
Youre scared with all of us here? The sneer was palpable.
Yes, Ky said. And with some reason, I believe. I am willingno, eagerto give a full report, but Id rather not be shot in the head while standing out here in easy range of anyone in any of these shops.
The man made no response at first. Ky assumed he was getting instructions through an implant or his helmet com. In a few moments, he said, All right. Were taking you in. Hands on your head.
The Garda station was around the curve from where theyd been, in the direction theyd been walking. No one else appeared until they were out of sight of the carnage behind. There, a curious crowd had gathered behind a taped perimeter. The guards answered no questions, but hurried Ky and Martin on until they were inside the station. There, since nothing had shown on the autoscanner as they came in, they were allowed to lower their hands.
Youre getting quite a reputation, Captain Vatta, said the person behind the desk. Illegal biologicals, assaults, murder
Self-defense, Ky said. Attempted murder, on their part. And what I hope is impersonation, for which Baritom is legally responsible.
So you say, the man said. An investigating officer will be here shortly to take your statements. You can wait in there He jerked his head toward a doorway.
I need to inform my ship, Ky said. Theyre expecting us to return.
He scowled at her. Youre under suspicion
Of course, Ky said. But theres no reason to panic my crew, is there? After all, Im still responsible for them; Im sure youd rather not have them involved in any other incidents.
You can use the public com outlet, there, he said.
Go on, Martin; Ill be with you shortly, Ky said. Martin nodded and preceded one of the Garda down a hall. Ky gave the ships code.
Gary Tobai,Cargo Specialist Barikal speaking. Cele looked calm, so Ky hoped that meant nothing had happened while she was gone. OhCaptain! Sorrythe screen didnt show your ID at first.
Thats all right. Is Quincy there? Has Beeah come back?
No, Captain. Quincys gone out to one of the chandlers to select rations. She took Jim with her; shes not alone. Beeah called in to say he was having lunch on Hub Three. Do you want Mehar? Shes in Engineering
No. Thats all right. But Ive run into some problems. We were attacked on the way back from out here; I want all ship personnel to return to the ship at once and stay there. Who else is out?
Besides you and Martin, just Jim, Beeah, and Quincy, Captain. Are you all right?
Im fine. But Id like you to contact Quincy and Beeahget Mehar to do it by implantand have them return immediately. Ill be tied up here in the Hub Four Garda station awhileprobably some hoursbut she can try to contact me here. I dont know if theyll put calls through. Just sit tight.
Yes, Captain. I do have some good news on the cargo side. Alene got quite a profit on one part of the Leonora cargo.
Thats fine, Ky said. But Id rather not discuss that on this line. Im using the public com at the guard station. Ill call again when I can.
Yes, Captain.
Ky signed off, smiled at the still-scowling man behind the desk, and went into the waiting room, furnished with a bench, narrow table, and two chairs. Martin sat on the bench with his usual composure, radiating calm patience despite the smears of blood and dirt on his clothes. He gave her a pleasant smile. Ky was sure she looked worse than he did; the stench of blood and brains on her face was nauseating. One of the armed guards followed them and stood by the door.
Is there a toilet? Ky asked.
Youll have to wait until forensics has tested your clothes, the guard said.
They didnt have long to wait. The man who came through the door introduced himself as Inspector Grant. Well need to do some forensic tests on your clothes, he said. If youll follow my assistant here into the changing area, this wont take long, and then I can take your statements.
He had two assistants, one male and one female, both humods with low-pressure adaptations. Ky disrobed under the eye of the female and handed her suit over, changing into the simple gray coverall provided. Now well need to test your hands, the woman said. She took the sack with Kys clothes and led her to another room, where a technician sat behind a machine with a slot in the front. Ky put her hands in the slot as directed, and, after a minute or two, the technician nodded. The technician wiped her face with a cloth and took a blood sample. Then the woman led her back to the waiting room, having handed over the sack to the technician.
If you need the toilet, you can use it now, the woman said.
Id like to wash my face, Ky said. Is that all right?
Yes, the woman said.
In the washroom, Ky scrubbed all the visible bits off her face and wished she could wash her hair. Even as she brushed it with the packet of drywash, it didnt feel clean. What she really needed was a long, hot shower. She used the facilities, then scrubbed her hands again. When she emerged, she went back to the waiting room and sat down across from Inspector Grant.
Youve had a bad day, I gather, he said, pleasantly enough. So, Captain Vattasuppose you tell me what happened. Starting with . . . lets start with when you left the Garda station on Hub Three after arranging for that animal to go into quarantine.
Ky related her travels as best she could. Grant asked for descriptions of the people on the various trams.
Why did you elect to walk back that way? he asked, when she told about turning down the passage where they were attacked. Didnt it occur to you that staying in the main thoroughfare might be safer?
My escort, Willem Turnish. I had asked if he knew of a place that carried pet supplies. If we were going to be stuck with that puppy, wed need some. He said there was a shop called BioExotics on Willow Lane. In fact, Ky continued, he recommended the cafMurphyswhere we ate lunch.
Murphys has a good reputation, Grant said. Do you think theyll remember you?
Id think so. It wasnt very busy when we were there. I remember which table. Anyway, we started down Willow Lane, and the passage cleared out after a while; we were walking along fairly quickly and I was looking at storefronts, reading the names and numbers. Then Turnish said look out, and I was diving for cover when the first two shots came. We were all on the ground when the next shot came, then I had my weapon out. I got the one up ahead, and told Turnish to take cover in the nearest doorway while I covered him.
And?
He rolled over and had a weapon aimed at my head. I was so stunned I couldnt movehe was too close, and I was stretched out, my weapon pointing away from him . . .
Youre sure it was Turnish?
Absolutely, Ky said. Hed been with me the whole time, never more than an arms length away.
So what happened then?
Next thing I knew, Martin bobbed up and shot him. I dont suppose Turnish knew he was armed, or could move that fast. Then we got into that doorway and waited until the guards showed up.
You have a license for your weapon, Grant said. They checked that at the other guard station. But your crewmando you know if he has a concealed carry permit?
Yes, Ky said. I arranged for that when I purchased mine, along with my weapon, at Blades on Hub Three.
Um. And you were both both wearing torso armor?
Yes, Ky said. Also purchased today at Blades. We had some reason to expect trouble, as Im sure you know. But my real concern, Ky said, is that someone I hired from a bonded protection company tried to kill me. He had all the right recognition codes, the ones the company provided to me. Does this mean the company is bent, or are they missing a legitimate agent?
I assure you we will investigate that aspect, Grant said. They say they did dispatch an escort named Willem Turnish, but we do not yet know if the dead man really was Turnish. He shook his head. Do you know why he warned you? If he was part of the plan to kill you, that doesnt make sense.
Ky had not thought of that. I dont know, she said.
Unless, Grant said, he set it up so it could look like someone else shot you. Though that seems complicated. Tell me how he came to you. Had you arranged for an escort with Baritom?
They contacted my ship; a message was relayed to me and I called the number provided. They said their dockside personnel had noticed I went out and asked if I wanted an escort. It was something Id mentioned to them before. Why?
He sighed. I dont know yet. Im just trying to understand what exactly happened. Preliminary forensics confirms that the individual in the doorway of Andys fired the three rounds we found onsite, and that those rounds were fired before the ones that killed him.
How else,Ky wondered, but didnt say.
Forensics cannot confirm that the individual known to you as Willem Turnish was in fact menacing you with his weapon before your crewman shot him. We are experiencing difficulty in obtaining uncorrupted vid surveillance data from that area. It looks as if someone intended to insert a very different scenario, but we tapped into the system too quickly. His smile now was predatory. We are not happy to find that someone is attempting to corrupt our surveillance.
That would be . . . very bad, Ky said.
Yes. At any rate, the evidence at this point does not support holding you in custody, even though you might be safer here than out on the streets. Though its clear from both your stories that your crewman Martin shot and killed this Turnish fellow, the previous threats against your family suggest that its not that unlikely he was trying to kill you. Therefore I am willing to release him, as well, into your custody. Excuse me a moment. He left the room.
Ky leaned back. The gray jumpsuit smelled of harsh institutional soap, but she could still smell something in her hair. She would have to get in touch with Baritom . . . would they blame her for the death of their operative, or would they accept that he had turned on her? She ached all over. She did not want to hike over to the station to take the tram back to Hub Two.
Grant came back. Since its clear youre the target of malicious intent, Im authorizing the use of a patrol scooter to get you back to your docking area. We cant provide around-the-clock protectionwe dont have the personnelbut that much we can do.
Thank you, Ky said, feeling absurdly grateful.
Your clothes and weapons will be returned to you at dockside, he went on.

Everyone was back at Vatta dockside when Ky and Martin returned. Ky brushed off the concerned questions. We both need to clean up, she said. And I need some sleep. Im hoping the ship unit will restore this suit. She didnt think it would, but it was worth trying.
After she put her filthy, stained clothes in the fresher, she took a long, hot shower and fell into bed. She lay still, breathed deeply, and didnt go to sleep. She tried meditation, attempted to visualize the rainbow . . . but all she could see was the blank black circle of the gun muzzle pointing at her face, and the red blood, all she could feel was the shock of fear and despair, the elation of killing, side by side and overlapping. Again and again, she tried to work her way through the color sequence, the calming words, and each time the black circle and red splatters dominated her thoughts. Finally she emerged from her cabin, still tired, aching, sore where her elbows and knees had hit the pavement . . . but too alert, too tense. It would almost be better if her father was dead, because then he would never know that his daughter, his precious little girl, got a charge out of killing people.
True, they had been trying to kill herall the ones she had killedbut they were still people, and Sapphic Cyclans considered killing people as primal dissonance. Her failure to visualize the Cycle proved they were right, at least as far as the use of that guided meditation went.
Jims sleeping, Quincy said, when she asked about him. And weve got these for him. Standard spacer shore rig for those not fashion-conscious, blue trousers and a belted tunic in shades of tan with brown trim on sleeves and neck that would pass unnoticed on every station in the quadrant. Kind of dull, but we thought just not wearing dull green would be a shock. She grinned.
Good idea, Ky said.
Are you all right, Captain?
Im fine. Well, I have bruised elbows, but its not serious. With a wave, Ky headed upship.
On the bridge, Sheryl sat watch. I wont have to go out for anything, will I? she asked. She looked as tense as Ky felt.
No, of course not.
Good. Lee half wants to, I think. He thinks all this is exciting. Her tone said she thought Lee was crazy.
You dont, Ky said.
No. II know Im the only navigator youve got, Captain, and I like you, but if I werent scared to set foot off the ship, Id ask to separate. I just want a nice safe berth on a nice safe ship.
Some people just were not cut out for adventure, Ky thought, and then wondered why she herself was. Sheryl, if theres another ship in that needs a navigatoror whose navigator wants some excitementId say take the chance. But Im not sure there are going to be many nice safe ships for a while now. Sure, Vattas being attacked at the moment. But there are other wealthy cargo lines out there, and unless we find out whos doing this and stop them, everyones at risk.
I suppose, Sheryl said. She sighed. I just . . . my stomach gets all knotted up and I cant sleep.
I know the feeling, Ky said.
Yes, but you are actually doing things; people have tried to kill you. I havent been hurt at all yet, and Im this scared. Im just sitting here . . . Her voice trailed away.
That could be fixed. Sheryl, sitting here alone will just make it worse. So Im relieving you of bridge duty, starting now. Just a second She called the other sections, and found that Alene could indeed use more help with cargo shifting. Youre now a cargo handler. Not docksidejust shifting things inside the ship. No more risk than up here, and youll be busy and with others.
For an instant Sheryl looked annoyeda navigator doing physical work?then she smiled. Maybe thatll keep my mind off it, she said.
Hope so, Ky said. Now scat. I need to make some calls. What shed told Sheryl was perfectly true. Once the attackers finished mopping up Vatta resources, they would turn on others. If she could get some support from other tradersor even informationshe would no longer be fighting this war alone.
Sixteen interstellar ships besides her own were docked at Lastway at the moment. Three were corporate: Pavratis Emerald Skyshe wasnt going to try to talk with them . Mellin & Companys Sunburst . She didnt know much about Mellin & Company, except that they traded into the next quadrant. Outbounds Ringwalker . Outbound typically hauled supplies for start-ups, the basics for terraforming and initial colony construction. The rest were listed as independents, from a huge bulk carrier Orlandos Song to little Lacewing, with even less cubage (but better engines) than Gary Tobai . Ky started at the head of the list, excluding Pavrati, and worked her way down in the order given.
This is Captain Vatta, she began, when Sunburst answered and her call had been transferred to Captain Sunder. Im wondering if you have any information about these attacks on trading vessels
On Vatta vessels, he corrected. Onscreen he was clearly a humod, though she didnt recognize the function of some of his physical characteristics. Why the sagittal ridge, for instance? The large bulge on his left forearm? And were those functional gills on his neck? I have heard nothing about attacks on other registrations.
Thats reassuring for now, Ky said. But I presume that when whoever it is finishes with Vatta they will start on someone else. Do you have any concerns about that?
If I did, I would not share them with you, he said. Your luck is down; I do not want to be contaminated. And he shut off communication.
Well, thank you very much, Ky snarled to the blank screen.
With minor variations, this was the response she got from all of them. They all worried; they all recognized that whoever was attacking Vatta might shift to another target. None of them thought allying with Vatta would improve their chances. Nor were they making any effort to cooperate with each otherat least none they would admit to a pariah like her.
Shortsighted idiots, Ky muttered to herself. Theyll end up in my fix soon enough if they dont start thinking ahead.
Talking to yourself? Lee, yawning, came onto the bridge. Wheres Sheryl?
I sent her down to work cargo; she was getting twitchy up here by herself.
If you want privacy, I can go fix us something to eat, Lee said. Its my turn for galley duty anyway.
Good idea, Ky said. Though I dont know what I need privacy for, since none of the other captains will talk to me about the situation. Some offer sympathy, at least, but theyre afraid well infect them with our bad luck.
You could try telling them that you are the very embodiment of good luck, Lee said. Look how many attempts on your life youve survived.
Ky laughed. I dont think thats the sort of good luck theyd appreciate, she said. But yes, Im hungry.
When he brought in a tray for her, he said, Quincy said to remind you about that package, the one that came while you were out. She put it in your cabin; did you see it?
No, Ky said. Hunger beat curiosity for the moment. Ill look at it after I eat. She worked her way through a bowl of Lees spicy meat-and-vegetable concoction, then went down the passage and retrieved the package. She recognized MacRoberts handwriting. Probably another spaceship model, and what would this one have as a little surprise? She took a bite of the custard Lee had brought for dessert before she put her thumb on the integral scanner. The top layer of wrapping opened along a flat seam and rolled back. Underneath was another layer of wrapping.
She opened that and found a thick padded folder with the seal of the Slotter Key Diplomatic Service embossed on it instead of the box of model spaceship parts she expected.
Whats that? Lee asked.
I have no idea, Ky said, running her fingers over the seal. She opened it. Behind a clear plastic protective cover lay a document with the State Seal at the top, and blocks of dense printing. She started reading. What? It couldnt be what it looked like. She put it down and rummaged in the depths of the package. An envelope, with a letter from MacRobert.
No, this isnt another spaceship model, the letter began:
       
        Your family said youd show up at Lastway eventually, so this was sent by hand to a trusted local agent. Troubles brewing. Dont know how bad it is, but theres things you need to know. First off, Spaceforce is only a small part of Slotter Keys space defense. The other part is contracted out to private concernswhat youd call privateers. Your actions at Sabine show that you have, as I always thought, the right mix of attitude and ability.
       
So, fine, MacRobert suspected she was a killer at heart . . . then her mind really registered privateer . Pirates in traders clothing, as one of her instructors had called them . . . Was MacRobert trolling through the cadets at Spaceforce Academy, looking for potential pirates?
You always were a bit too independent for Spaceforce, the letter continued:
       
        That fancy folder from the diplomatic service is a letter of marque, authorizing you to act on behalf of Slotter Key to do harm to our enemies, to attack and seize ships and cargo. At your discretion, and using your own best judgment. Youre supposed to keep the letter handy to show when called for. Youll notice that it could be mounted on your bulkhead with the handy bracket on the back of the frame. Its not worth the antique materials its written on when it comes to stopping return fire and its recognized as a legitimate charter or commission only in the jurisdictions listed at the bottom. Be sure to read that, or you could get interned in a very boring jail somewhere. You wont be able to do much in that little tub, so I suggest you get yourself a better ship as soon as you can.
        In the meantime, be sure you order galley supplies from Buchert Brothers and specify the following under odor barriers : MASKEM 3152337, six units. Someone will call and ask if that is the correct code, and youll say yes. When the delivery arrives, be sure to open that container in a secure location. Youll recognize the contents. Right now thats all the help we can give you.
        Youll want to know who Slotter Keys enemies are . . . I cant tell you that right now. We know somethings wrong at ISC, more than what happened at Sabine, and there are other indications that something big is coming. Use your best judgment. The Commandant sends his respects.
       
Ky looked back at the letter. In archaic and complicated language, it authorized her, Kylara Evangeline Dominique Vatta, to seek out and impede, harrass, annoy, frustrate, confiscate, attack, and destroy any and all enemies of Slotter Key wheresoever she might find them, in space or in dock, by any means whatsoever that lay within her power, and further instructed officers of Slotter Key, diplomatic, military, and affiliated, whatever that was, to assist her in these endeavors.
Along with stunned astonishment, she was aware of feelings she could not entirely approve. Excitement. Anticipation. Glee.
Its . . . interesting, she said to Lee, after a long breath. Should she tell him? Why not, after all. In the unlikely event she ever used it, shed need a pilot. Our government wants me to turn pirate.
What?
Privateer, actually. This She tapped the padded folder. is a letter of marque. We studied this kind of thing in school; I had no idea anyone actually did this. Now, not centuries ago somewhere else. Its . . . license to do just about anything.
To anyone . . . ?
No, to the enemies of Slotter Key, which this other letter states they cant identify at the moment. It mustve been sent She looked again at the letter and its date. Yes. Before the attacks on Vatta started, and before we became persona non grata to the Slotter Key government. Which may make this null and void, though I dont know . . .
Only if they formally rescind it, Id think, Lee said. Not that Im an expert, either, but surely theyd have to give you notice.
And they cant, Ky said. Because their ansibles blocked.
To her surprise, Lee looked more excited than afraid. We arent exactly privateer material, though, are we? Did they send you money for a better ship?
Not unless its hidden in the deodorant Im supposed to order from a grocer. Whydo you like the idea?
He didnt answer that directly, but asked, So . . . are you going to do it?
Her earlier objections to turning pirate came to mind, butwhat choice did she have now?
Im going to see whats in the deodorant, anyway, Ky said. For the rest, I dont know.
If we had the right ship, it could be fun, Lee said. Then, at her look, he pulled his face into a frown. Difficult and dangerous, I know. Not fun in the usual sense, butmore fun than just driving a tradeship back and forth.
You were wasted in commercial shipping, Ky said.
You, too, Captain.
I dont know . . . not being shot at for weeks at a time is beginning to look better and better.
Lee shook his head. Youd get tired of it.
Maybe. Sheryl and Alene and Ted wouldnt. They hate the excitement, as you call it.
Maybe theyll find another ship. If any ship is safe.
She looked up Buchert Brothers in the directory. Restaurant and ship supply, variety and quality at a reasonable price. Thats what they all said. The list of products looked normal: bulk and packaged staples, brand-name and private-label goods, everything from cleaning supplies to fresh tank-grown fish, alive until harvested. She compared prices with two other suppliersabout the same. A quick look at their supply situation . . . she entered an order for cleaning supplies, protein powder in five-kilogram containers, a dozen sets of assorted processor flavors, a set of oven trays, and the specified odor barriers.
A few hours later, uncrating the order in the cargo hold, Ky found herself staring at a shape she knew very well. Here was the otherand more expensiveversion of the mines she had put a hold on. Smaller, a little lighter, these contained the most sophisticated electronic attack available. Properly set and delivered, they could disable an entire ships systems without causing significant structural damage. An excellent choice for piracyprivateeringand she now had six of them.
My, my, my, Martin said. Someone likes you.
They did, but I think they dont now, Ky said.
Care to explain?
A letter of marque, Ky said. The package came while we were otherwise occupied, though at the moment I cant recall if it was the puppy or the assassins. Anyway, it was signed and authorized well before the attacks on Vatta, and before the government chose to ignore us.
Very handy, Martin said.
Ky closed the crate again. Put this where we can get at it quickly, she told Alene. Were going to need it once were back out there.
What is it? Alene asked.
Something Ill tell you all about once were in a secure location, Ky said. Six mines. And she had fifteen with conventional explosives on hold at MilMart. As soon as she had enough money in the account, shed put a deposit on them.
       
       
CHAPTER NINE
Toby Randolph Lee Vatta slouched on the hard bunk in the cell. He hadnt done anything wrong, but here he was in jail. Without any way to communicate to the family, and no explanation why he couldnt call them.
Here you are, one of the guards said. Lunchtime. This was the nicest one, Toby thought. He looked like hed be a good older brother or father or something. For someone who wasnt a prisoner.
Thanks, Toby said, as the guard put the tray on the table.
The guard cocked his head. You arent hungry again?
Not really . . .
Thinking about your family?
Yes. How could he not? Ellis Fabery, blown up in dock, with casualties in the thousands because it had taken out a whole sector. Half the crew was Vatta-born, from captain to cargomaster. And Toby hadnt been aboard to be killed, because he had been rewarded for his spit-clean record the first six months of his apprentice voyage. His cousin Dex, the captain, had let him off the ship to run a simple errand. Take this message over to the bank, bring back the return message, dont dawdle on the way, act like a grown-up. So hed been four sectors away, cooling his heels in the bank managers waiting room, when the ship blew and the chair shuddered beneath him, and all the intersection seals locked down. When his implant had stabbed him with the burst of static. Sole survivor, so far as they knew. Underaged. Potential target of assassins.
Nobody likes jail, the guard said. He sat down on the other end of Tobys bunk. But its for your own safety.
They had explained that before, as if he was too stupid to understand the first time. He understood. He just could not figure out a way to deal with it. In all his life he had never been alone among strangers, completely separated from his family or friends.
I know youre doing your best, Toby said. Always be polite to strangers; always be polite to law enforcement. I just . . . I just dont get hungry. He smiled. Im not exercising enough, I guess.
Youre losing weight, the guard said. We dont want you to fade away by the time some family show up.
Theyre coming? Toby asked. Hope surged; his heart pounded.
Im sure they will, the guard said.
But you dont know . . .
No. The guard sighed. Look, son. Communications are down everywhere. We sent word; we dont know if it got through before the ansibles quit working. ISC will fix them eventually, and then someone will come. We just dont know when. Allrays a little off the main lines.
Allray had seemed exotic once. Allray Station had a live display of its indigenous life-forms, the smaller ones. Toby had seen the online pictures; he wanted to see a hextan and a hexbear in real life. Dex had promised him a free afternoon, if all went well, and Anders, in Engineering, had promised to take him to Allrays open market as well as the life-forms display.
Now all he saw of Allray was this cell and the rooms visible from it. He had a vid setup, and the guards brought him entertainment cubes, but they wouldnt give him a live outside data line. There were only so many hours of the day he could stand to watch episodes of Langs Gang, Beyond the Law, Ghost Ships . . . Hed never noticed before, but now every explosion, battle, and fight reminded him of his loss. He didnt complain. What else was there to do? Hed asked about student programs, hoping to bury himself in math homework problems, but it turned out that he was several levels beyond the highest they kept onstation. His big sister Erin had always told him he was too smart for his own good, but he hadnt imagined the result of racing through his schoolwork would be boredom in a jail cell when hed done nothing wrong.
Forensics through with their . . . with the . . . uh . . . remains, the guard said. Do you have . . . do you know . . . what theyd want?
He hadnt ever thought, in his darkest adolescent humors, that hed have to arrange the funerals of his family and other shipmates. The lump in his throat was too big; he couldnt speak. He shook his head.
You dont have any religion or anything?
The family altar, back home, and the deities hed been taught to name, now seemed as meaningless as a plastic cube. What good had it done Cousin Dex to adhere to the standards of ethics? What good had it done Hallie and Prin and Veeah to observe the Days of Silence? They were dead, dead for no reason but malice, and no god they prayed to had kept them safe. He could not explain this to the guard, however friendly. He shrugged, instead, blinking back tears.
I guess we can keep em in the freezer awhile longer, the man said. He sighed, heavily, and stood up. Son, youre going to have to talk sometime, to someone. Are you sure theres nothing more we can do to help? Were not your enemies, you know.
I know, Toby said. His voice rasped; it wanted to shake, and only by sounding angry could he control it at all.
The guard left. The smell of food permeated the cell; it made him sick, yet his hunger gnawed at him. Could he eat any of it? Two bites of bread, and he wanted to throw up. He lay back on the bunk, covering his face with his arm. When the guard came back to remove the tray, Toby had curled to face the wall, with the blanket pulled over his head.

Stella Maria Celeste Vatta Constantin looked around Allray with wary interest. Thanks to the mess that had made her the laughingstock of the family and the bad example held up to youngsters, she had never taken the usual apprentice voyage offplanet. She had traveled, of course, but when she was older, and always with a mission in view. Allray might have looked exotic when she was fourteen, but not now she was thirty. It looked scuffed and tawdry instead; she was too old to mistake scuffed and tawdry for exotic. Traveling under her married name, as she was, she raised no comment in the Customs line. It was one of the things she enjoyed about traveling: no one associated the given name Stella with idiot stupid enough to give family access codes to her first lover.
The captain of the ISC courier had given her the bad news about Ellis Fabery as soon as they downjumped into Allray space, but he had no details. Stellas own implant did not have a complete crew list; the Ellis had changed out crew at the beginning of the standard year, and the old list would not be accurate.
She made her way to the station police. They would surely know who had been killed on the ship.
Youre a relative? the desk clerk said. Stella smiled.
I need to speak to the officer in charge, she said. I carry credentials from the family, permission to arrange for disposition of remains.
But what about the boy?
Boy?
The kidsomeone needs to take him.
I was not informed of any boy, Stella said, rummaging rapidly through her implants file of Vatta younglings. Apprentice age . . . Keth? Preston? Toby? Gio? How old is he?
Hes fourteen. The only one left. Toby, he says his name is. I guess, if youre the familys representative, youll have to take him.
All she needed was a fourteen-year-old boy tagging along on this mission. She couldnt say that, though, not to a desk clerk.
Your officer in charge? she said again.
Ah. Right. Ill get him.

The shape under the blanket looked too small to be a fourteen-year-old.
He hasnt been eating well, the guard said. Stella glanced at the tray, which looked untouched, cold, and unappetizing.
I can see that.
Weve triedIve tried myselfbut he wont open up at all.
And no wonder, Stella thought. Toby, she said softly. Toby, wake up.
The blanket twitched, then stilled. Toby, Stella said again. Time to go . . .
The blanket twitched, then he poked out a thin face, eyes dangerously intense. Who . . . who are you?
Stella Constantin. Ive come to settle things here. You can come with me.
Suspicion hardened his expression. Howd I know youre not one of them?
Shes not, lad. We checked, the guard said. But Tobys eyes never left hers.
Stella sighed. Toby, did you ever hear of Stavros idiot daughter Stella, the idiot who gave the family codes to her lover?
His brows went up. Youre?
That Stella, yes. But even I didnt stay an idiot forever. Lets get you out of here, shall we?
He unrolled the blanket and sat up unsteadily. II dont feel well.
You havent eaten enough to keep a mouse alive, is what I hearand what that tray looks like. Dont faint on me, Toby; we dont have time for that.
Maam, the guard said, in a worried voice.
You can eat the roll, Stella said, ignoring the guard. Here She broke it in half, spread jam on it, and handed it to Toby. Eat it.
He stared at her for a moment, then took the roll and bit into it.
Toby, I want to get you off this station before someone finds both of us. I have taken care of everything else She saw his jaw stop moving as he took that in, and then resume chewing. I have your personal belongings, and I brought you something to wear other than jail garb or Vatta uniform. Youll travel as my son.
Iyou arent old enough!
I will look old enough, dont worry. Finish that roll, and another. She turned to the guard. Can you get us a couple of hot sandwiches, maybe?
Of course, he said.
When he was gone, Toby said, Where are we going?
Stella raised her brows. He had not said Where are you taking me . . . he was starting to engage. Promising. I dont want to tell you here, she said. These people have done a good thing in protecting you, but Im not sure their records are as secure as they think.
He had wolfed down another roll already and was looking at the rest of the tray, despite the layer of congealed fat on the blob that might be meat.
Dont, Stella said. If you havent been eating, let your stomach get used to the rolls first.
But you asked for hot sandwiches.
I asked for time alone, but in different words, Stella said.
He looked at her curiously. Yourenot like . . . like the captain.
No. Im not. Im not a spacer. Im administration When she was anything. When she was not just that idiot Stella, the permanent example of what could go wrong. The petty little position shed held until her pregnancy was only administration to someone aboard a ship. What shed done since, no one knew about.
But to lie . . .
Misdirect, Stella said. Similar, but different.
I dont think its right to lie, he said.
I dont think its right to end up dead just because its convenient for someone else, Stella said. Nowcan you stand up yet?
He could, just, though he wavered a bit. Stella handed him the sack. Put those on. Ill turn my back.
Youre not going to leave?
That terrified modestyshe remembered that, from her own adolescence. No, she said, turning her back. Im not. Im also not interested in your skinny little body, except in keeping it alive. Change.
Behind her, the indignant rustles of an annoyed teen. Good. It would keep him from fainting, if he was angry enough with her. She focused her attention outward. The guard should be back by now. Why wasnt he? Why wasnt anyone coming? Why wasnt she hearing the routine noises that she had hardly noticed coming in? She queried her implant just as it pinged her, warning of chemical contamination. She held her breath, reached into her pocket, slapped a full-face membrane onto herself, then pulled out another and whirled to see Toby opening his mouth to gasp.
No! she said, and tossed the mask. Thank all the gods, the boy had been properly trainedhe knew what it was, didnt breathe until he had it on. His new outfitthe one-piece gray suitwas half fastened. He fumbled at the closure, and then picked up the jacket, eyes wide.
Can you use a weapon? Stella asked. He shook his head. Stay behind me then, she said. She drew her own. For all the good that would do if their enemies had the weapons she suspected.
Out in the corridor, nothing stirred. She saw, just at the corner, the guard who should have brought sandwichesand there were the sandwiches, on the floor beside his outstretched hand. The other way . . . deeper into the jail . . . she paused a moment to slip a highly illegal dataprobe into the port on the wall, at the guards duty station, and suck out the plans for the police station. Every space on a station had at least two exits. This one had four: the main one to the passage, two rear entrances, and one to the side, through a smaller office.
No time to ponder; she led Toby to the right, toward the cellblock rear exit. If the enemies trusted their gas, they might not have someone outside, or he might be careless.
The outer door was locked, of course. She had expected that. Tobys eyes widened farther when she pulled her tools from her pocket. Picking locks both mechanical and electronic wasnt the usual skill set of a Vatta daughter, but Stella had seen no reason not to learn from later acquaintancesor to tell her father all shed learned.
Outside, the passage appeared to be a service corridor, set with trash containers neatly labeled with the type of trash each should contain. To the right, she saw the open back door of what, by the smell, was a caf of some kind, itsBIOLOGICALS trash bin overflowing. She remembered that Huntari Caf had been next to the police station . . . probably a favorite hangout of the police, and thus not a good back door to enter. Farther down, a bakery and a greengrocer . . . she hurried Toby that way.
Can we take off? he began.
No, Stella said over her shoulder. We may not have any warning next time.
She turned back in time to see someone glance down the passage and quickly turn away. Not good. They were opposite Murchison Books and Antiquities, whose bin contained packing materials. The door seemed ajar. Stella yanked; it came open. She pushed Toby in, slid in herself, pulled it closed, and leaned on the locking bar until it caught firmly.
They were in a cluttered back room with more packing materials and open containers piled on a cluttered desk and on the floor. A closed door in front of them suggested that the actual shop lay beyond. To the right, a narrow staircase rose toward the ceiling where another door was labeledPRIVATE . Stella heard nothing from any direction; she boosted her implants sensitivity and heard something from outsidefootsteps, probablyand the rise and fall of voices from the other side of the closed door. Two voices? Three? She could not make out what they were saying.
From outside another set of footsteps, this time coming closer. She looked around again. No place to hide, really, but up the stairs. She motioned to Toby, finger to lips. If the owner had the private office on an alarm system, they were out of luck, but otherwise . . .
They were almost to the door when the pounding began on the back door. Stella tried the door of the private officeopen, and no alarm sounded when she opened it and she and Toby went in. She closed it behind them as her enhanced hearing picked up the sound of the shop door opening and footsteps coming through.
What is it? asked the shopkeeper.
Open up, a voice outside said.
The shop entrance is 3214 Scurry Lane. This entrance is secured, the shopkeeper said.
Open up, damn it! We think fugitives got in!
Not through this door. Who are you, anyway? You dont sound like A scuffling noise. You arent the police! Another noise Stella couldnt identify, a sort of metallic grumble, then a loud clang. A mutter, clear enough with the augmented hearing: What kind of idiot do they think I am, anyway? Then, more clearly, Sam, its Rafe. Somethings happening over here; youd better check the substation on Fourth Blue East. Some yobbos are trying to get in the back door of my shop claiming to be after fugitives but they arent any of yours. Click and another click, then, Hardythis is Rafe. Block trouble behind me now, probably coming around front. Police not responding. Could be the bunch were looking for.
Stella blinked. Yobbos? The last time shed heard that word in a very similar voice had been two years back somewhere very far from here. Rafe? That Rafe?
Ahh . . . no answer, eh? Well, Ive got to close up shop before they come in the front. Ta. Brisk footsteps, fading into the distance; no sound of the door closing between shop and office.
Stella looked around the office. Neater than that below, a desk with ordinary data hookups and displays, a bunk covered with a striped blanket, a small synthesizer and meal prep center, a curtain acrossshe glanced ina tiny but very clean toiletshower combo. Cabinets above and below the desk, along the walls. A secondary screen, on which movement caught her eyethe display of a security system, now showing the back of someone she assumed was the proprietor, as he pulled down louvered screens across the shop displays. The door, she noticed, was already closed and barred. The man looked to be of medium height, slender, with thinning gray hair pulled back to a braid tied with a ribbon. He had the second display covered now, and turned.
Stella caught her breath. That Rafe, indeed. He glanced up into the security systems scan, and smiled. Winked. Well, that cinched it. He knew. Naturally he would. Naturally he would have video pickups in his inner office, as well as downstairs, and naturally he would have checked them. He walked back to the stores service desk without looking up again. That, too, was Rafe; he had made his point. Now he would wait around for whatever help hed called in. Stella glanced at Toby, wishing she could spirit him away somehow. He was too young for this, and she couldnt explain; Rafe would have audio pickups everywhere.
If he knew they were there, if he knew who they werewho she wasthen she might as well use his systems. Stella found the security system controls for the interior scan and re-aimed the pickup so that she could watch Rafe. He was just standing there, entering something in the computera list of books, she saw when she zoomed in, from the stack of books on the counter. Old books, antiques, real paper. She couldnt quite focus on the titles, but she could, from up here, link into the computer he was using.
She did that, first returning the surveillance vid to a scan that included the shops front door. Under the days date, a list of titles sufficiently odd that Stella paused, scrolling down, and tried to think what scam he was up to now. Some historical societys volumes thirty-two through forty-seven? Estate rolls of places shed never heard of? Three cookbooks? A book of instructions for butlers? Surely no one actually bought these things to read . . .
Toby tapped her arm and pointed at the toilet cubicle. Stella shook her head. It would make a sound anyone could hearthough she suspected that Rafe had the upstairs soundproofed and scanproofed as well as he could, gurgling and whooshing in pipes was one sound that no soundproofing really damped.
Something moved on the surveillance vid, catching her peripheral vision. She glanced up. Rafe was moving toward the door, holding a weapon she didnt recognize. She turned up the sound. A loud clang, followed by a whistle . . . Rafe swept an arm down, to a pocket, then to his face. Stella checked the chemscan sidebar: nothing yet, he was just being cautious. Light blossomed in the middle of the door; the attackers were trying to burn through. Then a confusion of noises from outside: voices, thumps, crackles, small explosive cracks, and the cloth-ripping sound of rapid-fire small arms loaded with station-safe frangibles. Silence.
Rafe, standing alert beside the door, said, Block party?
Got em, Rafe, came a voice from outside. Ten of em. Pollies arent here yetwait . . . there they come.
Any chem stain, Hardy?
No. You can open up, if your doors not too damaged. Security screen has a hole as big as I am melted through.
Right. Rafe tucked his weapon behind a display and hit the door controls. The outer louvered screen slid aside slowly, then stopped halfway, and he opened the inner door. Stella touched the controls, aiming the vidscan at the outer door. Now she could see the melted sectionanother sidebar gave its probable temperature on the basis of thermal radiationand beyond it a scatter of bodies and some men holding weapons, already walking away. Others appeared in uniform: the arriving police, she presumed.
Looks like you had a problem, the first of these said.
We all do, Rafe said. Did you find out why station Fourth Blue East didnt respond?
Chemstunned, the man said. We think the attackers were after the Vatta kid. Mustve got him, too, because hes not there. Why were they after you, Rafe?
They said, escaping fugitives. Tried to get in my back door, claimed they were pollies. Luckily I keep it locked. So Im guessing that somehow the kid got away. After all, youd had us all warned off to shelter himsomebody mustve taken him in.
Not you?
Not that I know of, Rafe said. Like I said, my back doors locked except when Im putting out stuff to recycle or going over to Huntari for lunchand then I lock it behind me. Nobodys reported them?
Not yet. The policeman shrugged. Could be anywhere if the attackers didnt get him. Wed better find him, in case theres more bad guys. By the way . . . you do know that vigilante action is illegal?
I was inside the whole time, Fred.
Right. Your close friends and neighbors just showed up fully armed and chem-protected by chance . . .
The whole stations jumpy, Fred. If they choose to help me out when the police have been immobilized . . . Id say thats a good thing.
Im not complaining, the policeman said. Just pointing out the law, which is my duty. If the violation of ordinance has ceased, then . . . thats all I have to do.
Thank you, Rafe said, in a tone that Stella recognized. Rafe had always had a gift for irony.
Want us to check out the store?
If you wish, but as I said I was locked in back when they came, and you can see they didnt get through the front. Almost, though.
If youre surewe do have other things to do. Ill have a new roster in that substation within the hourour people there are all headed for hospitaland well add patrols. Forensics have to check out these bods and see if they can identify them. If you see any sign of the Vatta kid, let me know. Oh, and theres a Vatta family representative around somewherewas supposed to be headed for the police station, but we dont know if she got there.
She?
Yeah, a woman. Ill flash you the picture. Not a Vatta herself, apparently, but a family retainer. S. M. Constantin. Probably a lawyer. Came in on an ISC courier.
I should report her, too?
If you see her. Lets hope these scum didnt get her.
Lets hope, Rafe said. LookIve got to call Maintenance to get a repair crew over here. Talk later?
Right. The policeman turned away.
Rafe shut the inner door, picked up the weapon behind the display, and came back to the shop counter, with another grin for the camera. At the counter he made what seemed to be a perfectly straightforward call to Station Maintenance, requesting repair or replacement of the security grille and inner door of the shop on an urgent priority basis. And I may be up in my back officejust give me a call before you arrive. Then with a final glance at the camera, he headed toward the back of the store.
Stella turned down the sound augmentation on her implant and turned to Toby. Were about to have company, it looks like. Rememberwere trespassing, and we have no rights.
Yes . . . Toby looked pale again. Stella slid her own weapon back into its holster. She heard the footsteps come into the stockroom, pause, and then come up the stairs. The door opened.
Rafe stood there, lips pursed, and shook his head. Stella, Stella, Stella . . . do you have to be so dramatic?
Me? It was all she could say; as always, he took her breath away, and memories crowded her mind.
My dear, if you just wanted to see me again, all you had to do was give me a call . . . though I suppose with the ansibles down that might have been difficult. He glanced aside at Toby. Vatta kid, I suppose? Escaped from custody? Youd better go use the toilet, boy; you look ready to puke on my floor, and I wouldnt like that.
Toby gave Stella a desperate look; she nodded and he fled to the toilet cubicle.
Nice work, Stella, Rafe said, ignoring the sounds from that direction. Spurn my invitation, ignore me for years, then break into my shop and bring down gods only know what on my head . . . I suppose youd rather I didnt tell the pollies where you were?
When and if the personnel from that station wake up, theyll explain, Stella said. I went there to authorize handling the remains of the others, and they told me about Toby, wanted me to take him. Then it got very quiet, and when I looked out . . . they were down. I took him out the back
Which you just happened to know about, and how to open the door, Rafe said, nodding.
I still have the picklocks, Stella said.
And the dataprobe, Ill bet, Rafe said, this time with approval. I always said you were more like me than you wanted to admit.
And your door was ajar, Stella said.
Luckily for you, Rafe said. Since your picklocks would have set off a stunblast. I heard the front bell just as I came back in and didnt make sure it closed all the way. Foolish of me. Couldve been fatal if the others had made it here first. I suppose you think I should thank you for that?
No, Stella said. But Ill take thanks if youre offering them.
Rafe laughed. The same laugh. Warm tingles ran over her. Damn the man. Legend said it was your first love that always held some power over you, but in her case the first love was an unpleasant memoryhow could she have fallen for that toad?and Rafe a constant temptation.
Toby came out of the toilet cubicle looking pale, but less strained. Sorry, he muttered.
Fear does that, Rafe said. His grin at the boy was entirely comradely, with none of the rakehell glint he gave Stella. You look half starved, boy; didnt they feed you over at the station?
Couldnt eat, Toby muttered. Now
Now you could eat a whole rationpak in one bite, eh? Stella, its up to youI can feed you here, or we can play lost-and-found and let the police know where you are, then take the lad to Huntari for a good meal.
I want to get him to safetywhich I suspect means on a ship with no Vatta connections, out into spaceas soon as possible. What do you thinkare there still assassins out there?
Mmm. Could be. Finding a ships not going to be easy, either. Most of em wont take anyone with Vatta connections, or anyone from Slotter Key, just in case. Youll need other ID, if thats your plan. Whered you want to go? Back to Slotter Key?
No. Lastway, Im thinking. Nobodyd expect us to go there, and its right out on the fringes.
He tilted his head. Lastway. But Vatta trades there, dont they?
Stella cursed silently. Of course he would know that. Rafe had an information network galaxywide.
Sometimes, she said. No regular schedule that I know of, though Im not in on all the family business.
Your checkered past, Rafe said, feigning sympathy. Stella wanted to hit him.
My checkered past, she said instead. So . . . I suppose you could arrange alternative IDs?
Easier if the pollies dont know youre around, he said. They have such . . . traditional attitudes toward identity.
Thats a yes, Stella said to Toby, who was wide-eyed. At least he wasnt interrupting.
Wed better feed the boy something here, then, Rafe said.
       
       
CHAPTER TEN
While Toby spooned down a bowl of flavored mush larded with restorative additives, Rafe sat at his desk manipulating his security scanners. Stella lounged on the cot, uncomfortably aware of its other use.
Stations in an uproar, Rafe said over his shoulder. Casual muggings dockside, nothing unusual. Vendettas, brawls, even wholesale gang fights in dockside barswere used to that, same as any station is. But blowing a docked shipthat shook everyone. Killed not just the crew, but about half the people in that sector, including the emergency response team there. Half the ships here pulled out, right then, and no one blamed em, though it meant were short of some supplies. Nothing critical, but a nuisance. Polliesre overstretched; you know how station militia are . . .
Yes, Stella said. She did not want his lecture on police and militia organization; shed had it before.
So stationers organized block defenses. Everyone knew the perps were still here, most likely, on the hunt for the boy, or for any more Vatta ships that showed up. Or ships that might be friendly to Vatta. Technically, its illegal, but practically speaking the pollies were glad of our help and so was station management. Longtime stationers were even able to access police armories. Im not in that group.
He couldnt be, since five years before he had been somewhere else. With her, one way and another. Stella said nothing, and he went on.
You came in on an ISC courier, I hear. You know anything about the ansible problem?
Only that theyre down almost everywhere, and ISC is trying to get them back up. Apparently some are fried, and others just trashed.
Mmm. Frying suggests sabotage to me, someone internal. What do they think?
I was encouraged not to ask, Stella said. Condition of transport. But theyd take Toby and me, if we got to them and wanted to go where theyre going next.
Which is?
I dont know. Another thing I was encouraged not to ask. Eventually, I have a message for their headquarters, but I have no idea how many transfers that would be.
I see. Rafe turned his chair around. I dont see you having any advantage to me, at the moment. What do you have to trade?
Sufficient hard goods, Stella said. Of course he wouldnt help them for nothing; this was Rafe, after all.
Im moderately concerned for the welfare of this station, Rafe said. It has been a profitable connection. However, additional security measures and lower levels of trade may cut into my profits. Seeing as how Vatta seems to be involved in causing me inconvenience, perhaps I should find another source of income.
Such as?
Perhaps we should consider a partnership, Rafe said, studying his fingernails. Your family is in disarray; you must need allies. I have . . . certain . . . expertise, and certain connections. You have, as you said, hard goods, and your familys legendary expertise in trade and profit . . . and a trade network second to none, I understand.
But if we are in disarray, how can that help you? Stella asked. I fear you suggest a partnership in which we cannot provide a fair balance of advantage
Disarray, perhaps, but Ive no doubthowever theyve kept you sequesteredthat you have access where a . . . where someone like me might not. And vice versa. As I said before, Stella, we would make good partners.
Possibly, for a limited time. But you know, Rafe, I have other loyalties.
I know. So you said. He glanced at Toby, who was now staring into an empty bowl, studiously ignoring them both. And I can see that the survival and welfare of this boy must be a priority. What is he to you, anyway?
A cousin, Stella said.
Ah. Rafe stretched out his legs. Well, lets start with keeping him safe. Does he have living family anywhere, or is this a lifelong commitment?
I have ears, Toby said, not looking up. Stella grinned at this proof of Vatta spirit.
Sorry, boy, Rafe said. But you were so quiet
I dont know! Toby burst out. His eyes glittered dangerously. I know my uncles dead, and everyone on the ship, but I dont know about othersmy parents He looked at Stella. Do you?
No, Stella said. I know Vatta ships and holdings have been attacked in many places, but with the ansible shut down, I dont know about your parents specifically. Still, youre alive.
And we want to keep you that way, Rafe said. The smile he turned on the boy was full of his rakish charm. If that sat well enough with you, dial another bowl of it. We need you strong and fit for whatever comes next.
How do you know Stella? Toby asked instead.
Rafes grin widened. Let me count the ways . . . no, thats not nice. At least you have enough blood to blush. Stella and I met some years back, and nothing more, is the truth of it. I asked her to partner me, and she refused. She wanted to get back to her family.
Are you the oneer, sorry . . . Tobys blush deepened with the swift embarrassment of the adolescent who has just put his foot in it.
No, Stella said firmly. No, hes not. He was after . . . after that. Her heart thundered and she took a deep breath. Damn Rafe! This wasnt anything she wanted to discuss with a youngster, even if theyd had time to explain it all. Hes right, though. You should eat a little more, if you can.
And you, Stella, Rafe said. Stella shook her head. Suit yourself, but you need a clear head, and hunger isnt.
Im fine, Stella said. Good breakfast and all that.
So . . . partners?
Youd just close up your shop and leave?
Not much market for antiquities and books without a certain number of travelers coming through, Rafe said. Hard to get new stock, too, and the stationers have bought all theyre going to until trade picks up.
Rafewhat were you really selling?
His face hardened. My business, isnt it?
Not if were going to partner. I have enough wolves on my tail already; I want to know what other hazards youre bringing into this.
He spread his hands. None I know of. Some of the packages may have contained . . . additions . . . to the objects on the manifest, but you saw how friendly the pollies were. He glanced again at Toby. Perhaps this discussion could take place another time?
Perhaps, Stella said. She felt exhausted; after-action letdown. I will have something to eat, I think.
Good, Rafe said. I dont want you to regret a decision made by low blood sugar.
Youre so thoughtful, Stella murmured, and smiled when he glared at her.
What do you need from your base? he asked. And are you still based on the courier or do you have a rental?
Everything I actually need is with me, Stella said. I have a duffel aboard ship, though. And Id have to let them know, if I take another route out.
They have room for three?
Probably not. Her cabin had been cramped for one; she suspected the life support on couriers was less flexible than on tradeships.
Well need to find out. Do you trust them?
Of course, Stella said. He said nothing, just looked at her. She remembered what hed said about the implications of the ansible problems. Oh. You mean do I trust this particular courier crew? He nodded. She thought about it. Scrupulously polite, uninquisitive just as they had been uninformative. If theyd wanted to kill me, it wouldve been easy.
Yes . . . That in a long drawl. But youre not traveling as Vatta, are you? Vatta representative, the police said.
They surely know, Stella said.
Um. Probably. And probably safe enough. But youll need a secure way to communicate. Something better than station lines, which are . . . possible to compromise.
Meaning you have, Stella said. She was not surprised.
I could, Rafe corrected gently. And so could anyone else with my expertise. For the boys sake I suggest extreme caution. Andforgive my suspicionsI would like some assurance that you actually do have those items of value you spoke of.
Stella slipped her weapon out; Rafe did not move, but she felt his attention sharpen. She handed it to Toby, who hastily put down his second bowl of food. Toby, this is a model you may not be familiar with. Safetys that red knob. Pull it out now. Its off safety now. Keep it pointed at Rafe, whom I trust absolutely to be Rafe . . .
Rafe smiled, this time with what looked like genuine appreciation.
And do not hesitate to shoot if he makes a move, or if I suddenly fall over.
Yes . . . , Toby said. His hand, she noticed, did not shake.
Now, Stella said. She reached into her bodice and fished into the top pocket of the safe, pulling out the little suede container. She shook the stones out on her hand; they flashed brilliance around the room. Rafe caught his breath. Yes, Stella said. Genuine. Natural. She rolled them back into the suede pouch, and tucked it away again.
I gather there are more? Rafe said. His pulse had quickened, visible in his neck.
Oh, yes, Stella said. But not all in the same place.
Of course, he said. I am satisfied, then, that you have sufficient stock of value to enter into an equal partnership. I suppose I should show you mine He turned the chair.
Toby, Stella said. Rafe froze. I suppose you should sit perfectly still, she said, until our agreement is finalized.
You dont want to see my accounts? Rafe said, too lightly.
I dont want to see the business end of any of the weapons you have in your desk or on your person, Stella said.
My, you have learned, Rafe said. He spread his hands. All right. Terms?
Recording, Stella said. She indicated her implant with one finger. I know your scans are on, at least in here, so youll have your own record as well. She took a deep breath and went on. Partnership, limited, sixty days to start with, renewable by agreement of both parties. Can be unaffiliated by either party, with due notice of not less than twenty-four hours onstation, or twenty-four hours after arrival if on shipboard. Absolute for personal protection from physical, chemical, or biological attack by the partner or partners agent for the duration of the partnership and for a minimum of three standard days following its ending. Usual for sharing of information: all information relevant to the partnership shared, other information optional. Do you agree to these terms, Rafael Stoner Madestan?
His expression was rueful. I should never have taught you so well, Stella. Yes, I, Rafael Stoner Madestan, agree to these terms as offered by Stella Maria Celeste Vattasorry, I dont know your married name. I swear to abide faithfully by my partner in . . . in this enterprise, and to consider paramount the welfare of all partners. Does the boy enter into this?
Stella carefully did not look at Toby. He is of age, just. Toby, do you agree to these terms as full partner, or do you wish the protection of a minor?
Youre asking me? His voice squeaked, then firmed. As a member of Vatta family . . . Yes, I agree to these terms as a partner, accepting both Stella Maria Celeste Vatta Constantin and Rafael Stoner Madestan as partners for this enterprise.
Good, Stella said. And I, Stella Maria Celeste Vatta Constantin, accept you, Toby Lee Vatta, and Rafael Stoner Madestan as my partners in this enterprise, according to the terms as recorded in my implant and in Ser Madestans office security recorders.
Fine, Rafe said. Now can the boysorry, Tobyquit threatening me with a live weapon?
Of course, Stella said. Toby, point that weapon at the floor and push in the red knob.
Youre sure we can trust him? Toby said.
At this point, we have to find out, Stella said. But yes, Rafe has his own code of honor and I believe we can trust him.
Toby nodded and complied; Rafe sat very still until the weapon was back in Stellas hands and hidden away once more in her holster. Then he heaved a sigh.
Stella, dearest, you nearly made me create a mess. I do believe Toby would have shot me.
Indeed he would, Stella said. But he didnt, so you have no complaints now, right?
Right, Rafe said. To work, then. When I realized trade was going right out the air locks, after the explosion, I began converting some of my assets to the same kind of portable hard goods you have. Of course, it was difficult because others on the station were trying to do the same thing, and antiquities are not necessities.
And you always have your run money, Stella said. Rafe shook his head.
I am well reproved for earlier misdeeds, he said. Yes, of a sufficiency. What I propose to do now is put my stock in storage, explain to the authorities that without trade theres not sufficient profit, and depart. If you are known to have employed me, perhaps as a bodyguard, that would explain
That an antiquities dealer has bodyguard capabilities?
No, simply my departure. Perhaps you engaged me as the best you could find, all the regular bodyguards being unwilling?
Would they be unwilling? Stella asked.
They could be . . . dissuaded, Rafe said.
She could not stop the chuckle that emerged. I see. So you have far more deals going on this station than selling books and things and . . . whatever comes in the parcels.
He spread his hands. You know me too well, Stella.
Alas, she did. But after the first appalling realization that she had put herself and her emotions in danger, she had also realized that Rafe was the one person who might, just might, help her get to Lastway and find Ky. Especially since she had Toby along.
So my thought is first to tell ISC that we need more berths, if theyve got em . . .
A secure line. You need a secure line. Do you have the couriers contact number?
Yes. What do you have, optical spider hooks all over the place?
Not exactly all over. Rafe pulled out a number of thin, stiff fibers from beneath a book and ran them into a standard-configuration plug, which he then plugged into the side of his desk unit. Berth number . . . got that. All right. Since Im sure you dont trust me, you enter the contact code with your own lily-white hands.
Stella came over to the desk and entered the code. Of course his system would capture it, but it wasnt the hidden one. When the linkage icon went green she looked at Rafe. Do you want me to stick to text?
Better, he said.
Fine. Stella keyed in the pertinent data, as she saw things, and waited until the answer came back, demanding a visual. Rafe shrugged and moved over to take the blanket off the bunk while Stella sat at the desk.
Vid hookups on your left, third row, Rafe said. Stella found it and plugged in.
The couriers com officer stared out of Rafes desk monitor, in the crisp brilliant color shed have expected from one of Rafes hookups. Are you all right? he asked. Somethings got the station police stirred upcaptain wants to leave as soon as we can.
Im fine. Jos, what they didnt tell us is that there was a survivor of the Vatta attackan apprentice who was offship at the time. Theyve had him in protective custody. I was signing him out when there was . . . a bit of trouble. Thing is, I need to get him offstation and somewhere safe, but Im betting you dont have room.
Er . . . I can ask the captain. How big is he?
And a third party, Stella said without answering that. Im bringing an escort, from hereI cant take care of the kid alone.
Im sure we cant do that, the com officer said. Ill ask the captain, butwere only a courier.
I know. And Im very grateful, but thats how it is.
Understood. But you still have gear aboard, and you had urgent messages for the Chair . . . and where are you calling from, anyway?
Secure line, Stella said. I know; Im hoping you can offload my gear and take a burst message.
That we can do, but if youre in danger
Ill be all right, Stella said, if I keep the boy and myself out of sight for a bit.

Toby did not want to stay alone in the upper office, but Rafe insisted that Stella not go to the dock alone. Chances are theyre all dead, but if theyre not, Stella needs an escort, and I cant guard both of you at once.
What if someone comes here? Toby asked. Im not even supposed to be here. He looked better; the enriched mush had made a big difference, Stella noticed.
I just asked Maintenance when they might get around to repairs, and they said a minimum of two daystheyre still coping with the blast damage on the docks. And Ive told the block protection group that Im closed until I get the repairs done. No one should come, and if they do, you ignore them. Just in case Rafe opened one of the file drawers in the cabinet: whatever was inside wasnt files in the usual sense, and he came out with a bell-barreled weapon. this is a crowd control weapon, Toby. It will take out a substantial number with each shot, because its loaded with shrapneland no, Stella, its not legal, but its dead easy to use. What you do, Toby, is point this at the bad guys and pull this lever. It kicks like dingdong, so brace it on your hip or a desk or something. It will make a horrible mess, including of the wall behind your target, so be sure its necessary. Otherwise, dont hesitate. For chem protection, I can do better than those membrane masks Stella hadgood for out and around and being inconspicuous, but this He hauled out a standard Pittsdon protective suit. is your best bet. Ever worn one?
We did drill in them aboard the ship, Toby said.
Good. Now. Ive set all the external systems on full alarm. You have an implantlets seeyou should have channel fourteen open, right?
Right, Toby said, looking more enthusiastic.
Ill program the alarms to ping your implant. First pinganything, no matter how minorsuit up. Second ping, get the weapon and back into the toilet space. You have a clear line of fire, and they have to find you. Dont, please, shoot us when we come back.
I wont, Toby said.
And dial yourself some high protein now, about a hundred grams. Well be back in a couple of hours, I expect.
Toby looked at Stella, and she made herself smile at him. Dont fret, Toby, well be back for you.
Not surprisingly, Rafe had covert exits from his shop, and he and Stella finally emerged two passages over. They looked, she thought, like any young businesswoman and her older male escorthis gray hair and conservative clothes were, she knew, a disguisebut she was too aware of the potential danger. The attackers would certainly have vidscan of her from dockside, and possibly a line into Customs and Immigration.
We need to stop by here, Rafe said, as they neared a small caf.
We do? Stella said, but followed his lead. She was certain he wasnt after a quick snack, but he sat down in an empty booth, facing the door. Stella sat opposite him, and her back itched. Facing the door was her choice.
Rafeheard you had some problems over at your place. That was a brisk-looking man with a long apron and a pot of something in his hand.
Idiots tried to burn in my front door, Rafe said. I tell you, Lars, this about does me in. Trades been down, and Ive foisted off all the old books and prints and statuettes you longtime stationers can absorb
The man laughed. Youre right there. We still havent finished The Longway Saga, and Myths of Ancient Rome may never make it off the shelf.
They dont know when theyll get to my security grille, let alone the door, and I dont know if I can afford it anyway. Cant do business until its fixed, not without going out with a box and obstructing the common walkway.
Which is against the fire code. Right. Coffee?
No . . . I was wondering if youd seen Joey.
Ah, Joey. Well, I heard he was assisting the police with their inquiries . . . I told you, Rafe, Joey could get you into trouble.
Hes not bad, Rafe said. Want you to meet my friend Sally here.
Sally, the man said. Any friend of Rafes . . . His voice trailed away; he looked past them, his gaze sharpening.
Be right with you, he said; then, to Rafe, Strangers. Trouble?
Maybe, Rafe said. Id hate to cause a problem
No problem. The man moved in the direction of his gaze; Stella fought the urge to turn around.
We might have to leave, Rafe said to her. Im sorryI thought a snack would do you good.
Stella kept her own voice low. Very interesting girl, Sally.
Oh yes. Known her a long time, I have. Once had a thing for her. She teaches primary.
Teaches?
Quite firm with the little lads, I understand. A bit of a softy with the girls, especially the pretty ones.
Stella felt her face heating. You are a wicked man, you know that?
Oh, darlin, I know that very well. You look pretty when youre mad, Sally dear.
You do realize I dont have to be mad to move fast?
Thats good becausecome on! He was out of the booth, walking toward the back entrance, as someone behind her let out a yowl of pain. Stella slid out of the booth and followed, not looking around. She could hear the proprietors apologies, profuse and urgent, and the angry voices of at least two men, and then they were through the swinging door in a cramped kitchen, where a gray-haired woman kneaded a pile of dough on a counter and a skinny girl had her head in an oven, an array of tools spread on its open door.
Oh, Rafe, the older woman said. Ive been meaning to tell youIm really enjoying The Longway Saga .
Im glad, Tulie. Catch you later, maybe?
Sure. Ginny, get your head out of that oven and say hello to Rafe and
Sally, Rafe said firmly. Never mind, Ginny, were just passing through.
Some idiot put a number six cone in here instead of a number eight. The girls voice sounded strange, coming from inside the oven. Hi Rafe, bye Rafe.
The back door let them out into a passage much like that behind Rafes shop. So all the bad guys arent gone, Stella said.
Apparently not. Well have to go to Tommys. I was hoping to avoid that. Joeys a leetle more reliable, for this kind of thing.
Picking up my gear at the dock? Stella said.
He looked at her. This time her insides did nothing. No, he said, after that long look. And we have to go to Tommys first.
Tommys appeared to be a home furnishings store, complete with new and used items and an instore fabricator for custom orders.DESIGN YOUR OWN BED , the poster read. The illustration was nothing Stella would want to sleep in, but she supposed there were people of certain persuasions who would find it . . . useful. Certainly not restful. As she looked around, more and more of the items seemed suitable for a particular clientele.
Dont worry, Rafe said. Tommys staked out a market niche, but its not the one he lives in.
Before Stella could ask, Tommy himself appeared. He dressed to appeal to the market niche, Stella assumed, and since it wasnt the one she lived in, either, she felt uncomfortable.
Rafe wasted no time in pleasantries. Alternate IDs, Tommy. How much, how fast?
Tommys full red lips pursed. You have a problem, Rafe? I dont want trouble with the police. In my line of business, you know, I cant afford
To have them know that youre playing with the stationmasters daughter? I suppose not.
Tommy paled. Howd youwhat makes you think I
She told me, Rafe said. Im her father confessor or something like that . . . you really shouldnt, Tommy. Young girls are not reliable about keeping secrets. You know that.
I know youre a pain in the Tommy looked at Stella. And whos this, some female agent?
A friend, Rafe said. To return to my first question: how fast, how much?
Two hours each. Five thousand each. Hard goods.
Fine. We need three. Me, her, and a fourteen-year-old kid, male, shorter than her, dark hair, dark eyes
I need the data.
Tommy . . . these are alternate IDs. You make the data up. And you dont screw around. Well be back in two hours, with the goods. Squeal, and the deals off.
But II said two hours each.
And I said wed be back in two hours. Get busy.
But if I
If you dont, Rafe said, rounding on him, then the stationmasters daughter will have a very unpleasant discussion with her mother, and her mother will have an even more unpleasant discussion with you. You did know the fathers one of Brunos men?
Tommys skin paled even more and acquired a green undercast.
So you will have them ready, and we will pick them up, and you will have some trade goods and all will be calm and bright . . . wont it?
Y-yes, Rafe. Maam.
Come on, Sal. Time to make tracks and drive a train on them.
From Tommys, they traveled a fast, direct route to the docks, and Rafe stayed back as Stella walked up to the ISC dock warden, who waved to her. Glad youre here, Sera, because the captain is ready to break loose. Your duffels here; they said something about a burst message?
No recording where I was. Can I use your set?
Of course, Sera. I hear one of the crew lived?
A boy. Apprentice. Ive got to take him somewhere. Nobodys going to Slotter Key, I know that . . . Ive hired a guard.
Yeah. I see him. Looks kinda old.
Age and treachery over youth and beauty, Pete, Stella said. She put on the headpiece, tapping the connection to be sure it was seated against her implants external pickup, and closed her eyes. Composing a burst message required total concentration. She had thought through what she needed to send, and was almost finished when her concentration broke at the sound of weapons fire.
       
       
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Pete hunched behind the service counter, weapons in hand. An alarm whooped. Stella couldnt see what was going on without unhooking the burst message headset; she reviewed what shed recorded already, decided it was enough, coded it interrupted/trouble, and detached herself. The recording booth would already have transmitted the message to the couriers shielded com center. At the ships access, two armored ISC security personnel were firing at something in the middle distancenear the dockside entrance, she guessed. Prudence suggested that down on the deck would be a good idea; the recording booth wasnt armored. Stella slid down and eeled her way to Petes side.
He turned and tapped his implant; Stella nodded.
That guard of yours . . . told us he spotted . . . some trouble. Petes transmission was punctuated with little bursts of white sound when he fired. He was right . . . dunno if . . . it was you or us . . . they were after.
Im armed, Stella said into her skullphone.
Figured, Pete said. Just stay down.
Always listen to the professionals, Stella had been told often enough. She pulled out her weapon anyway, and waited. Return fire ceased; the alarms silenced. Stella stayed down, not needing Petes reminder.
Police are arriving, he said, relaying information from the ISC guards at the ship access. This time he spoke into the air, and Stella answered the same way.
Good. Safe to get up?
Probably, but Id stay down another tick or so if I were you. Just in case. Ohhere comes your guard . . .
Rafe came around the end of the counter. You have interesting friends, he said. Persistent, too, if not very bright.
Good job you spotted them, Pete said.
Thank you, Rafe said, with demureness alien to his nature. I was luckythey didnt see me, and they were talking openly.
Ah. Ill be glad to get off this place, and I wish you were coming with us, Pete said to Stella.
Ill be all right, Stella said, with confidence she didnt feel.
Hope so, Pete said, with another glance at Rafe, this one slightly edged.
Ill take care of her, Rafe said. His smile appeared entirely genuine, even to Stella.
Well get your burst to HQ soonest, Pete said to Stella.
Anyone hurt? came a hail from the other side of dock space.
Not here, Pete called back. Just being careful.
On the way back to 4th Blue, Rafe took every opportunity to check for followers. They dodged through restaurants, clothing stores, even a weapons shopRafe seemed to know everyone. Finally they took a drop tube to 2nd, and worked their way back up through Blue Sector, stopping at 3rd to pick up the new ID from Tommy.
Dont be surprised, Rafe said before they entered. Tommys been a bad boy and I have to do a little cleanup.
Cleanup,where Rafe was concerned, had many variant meanings, including sudden death. Stella shrugged. If Tommy had set pursuers on them, she didnt care what Rafe did to him. Inside, Tommy was talking to twono, threepeople who seemed to share the dominant decorating style of the place. He didnt notice them until Rafe picked up the bald man and deposited him on an odd-shaped couch. The skinny one whirled, but Stella had her weapon out.
Dont, she suggested mildly. He backed away, almost falling over a low table. That left the woman with the low-cut silver snugsuit, who walked over and sat on the bald man.
Tommy, Rafe said. Tommy shook his head, eyes wide, even before Rafe said, Have you been a bad boy, Tommy?
Not me! Tommy said. I didntit was
I think you have, Tommy, Rafe said. I think youve been a very bad boy . . .
Stella realized, with a lurch of disgust, that Tommys former customers were watching this avidly, and that Rafe was playing to them as well as to Tommy.
I asked you to do one simple thing, Rafe said. One simple thing, and you couldnt even get that right . . . went whining off to somebody for sympathy, didnt you, Tommy?
II told you itd take longer . . . I couldnt . . .
Excuses, Tommy. Excuses are worth . . . nothing. You know there will be consequences . . .
No . . .
Oh, yes, Rafe said. He glanced at the erstwhile customers, who were sitting in a row now, flushed and excited, and then watched Tommy as he ticked off points on his fingers. First, disobedience . . . then disloyalty, in running off to someone else . . . and then . . . I dont suppose you have completed the assignment?
I . . . I did . . . its ready, but . . .
Well, thats something, Rafe said, as if sorry to hear it. But the fact remains, Tommy, that youve been a bad boy and bad boys must be punished. Sally, check in Tommys office and see if hes telling the truth about the assignment, or if he lied . . .
Stella, in the persona shed been assigned, wove her way quickly through the furniture and into Tommys office. A folder on his desk withRAFE on the cover . . . she looked inside. Three sets of alternate ID that looked reasonably good to her less practiced eye. A stack of credits, which probably came from betraying them, with a call number, lay beside the folder. She scooped it all up, stuffed it in another folder, and went back to the front, where Rafes rather disgusting banter had Tommy trembling and the watchers bright-eyed.
The assignment was complete, Stella said. But he had a stack of money and a call number with it.
Tsk, tsk, Rafe said. Naughty Tommy . . . and what shall we do with a naughty boy, mmm? He glanced again at his audience. Should I tell them who else youve been playing with, perhaps?
No! Tommy jumped as if hed been touched with a live wire.
He has very special tastes, Rafe said to the audience. You would be surprised. Then to Tommy, But I think theres a punishment to fit this crime. One particularly suitable to someone of your . . . type. Over here . . .
Stella pretended disdain, while Rafe attached Tommy to some of his merchandise, explaining to the audience that of course Tommy would forfeit the reward hed been promised for doing a tedious chore, but that he, Rafe, had matters awaiting and perhaps they would like to amuse themselves in the store until Tommy managed to get himself loose. If he could.
And dont pay any attention to his protests, of course. When Tommys been bad he likes to pretend hes better than all this. They nodded. Ill just shut the door on my way out, and turn the sign . . . everybody knows Tommys hours are irregular . . . along with other parts of his life . . . I am in your debt. He put his hands together and bowed.
Well . . . well be glad to help . . . we . . . havent seen you before.
Few see me, Rafe said. But all remember me.
Stella nearly choked on that one, but maintained her calm until they were outside and Tommys store had a bigCLOSED sign facing the passage. What were you doing in there?
Having fun, Rafe said. Surely youve noticed how easy it is to get people to join the right party . . . all you have to do is make whatevers going on the right party. Im assuming you got the cash and the number.
Of course, Stella said.
Then its back home in a hurry, and hope that our boy Toby hasnt had to use that blunderbuss I left him with, or there wont be much left of the shop.
But Scurry Lane was peaceful and normally busy. Stella called Toby by implant, and he said nothing had happened.
Were coming in the back, Toby. Rafes going to pick up some food And some gossip, she was sure.
Ten minutes later, they were all in the upper office. Rafe peered at the new ID. Functional, not perfect. But it should do. Stella, youll want to dull your hair a bit, maybe use a cheek pad. Toby will do as he is. Now to find transport . . .
There is one ship leaving today and two tomorrow, Toby offered. I checked while you were out. Thought youd need to know.
Did I tell you to open a com line? Rafe said.
Good thinking, Toby, Stella said, with a glare at Rafe. What ID did you use?
None, Toby said. Straight open inquiry, by implant, ID hidden. He did not quite stick out his tongue at Rafe, but his tone was sufficient. Rafe rolled his eyes.
Two of a kind, I see. All right, Toby, whos off today and what capacity?
Rose of Bannoth,Roselines Limited. Dex said Roselines were small but pretty good, just not as fancy as the Empress Lines. Mostly passenger, light cargo. She has ten berths available to Placer B, then eight to Golwaugh, and then shes going to Lastway.
Thats handy, Stella said. Rafe?
We need to leave, he said, and this ship is leaving. I wouldnt care if she was going to Slotter Key or Sabine. All rightIll book us passage. Stella, if youll keep an eye on the external scans . . . and Toby, make a list of anything you need. A little ship like that wont have much commissary capacity.
He opened up his secure line and got to work. Toby, after a look at the back of Rafes head, put on the thoughtful look that Stella knew went with accessing an implant database. Stella hoped his apprentice voyage had borne in on him the need for extra underwear, but she wasnt going to embarrass him by mentioning it.
Ive got the berths, but theyre not taking credit, Rafe said, after a few minutes. Theyll accept hard goods, with a current appraisal, and theyre undocking in five hours, sixteen minutes. We have to be aboard in four and a half.
You know an appraiser, of course, Stella said.
Several, Rafe said. Let me just check with one of them He went back to work.
Toby glanced at Stella.
I have a listI dont know if its too much.
Port it over and lets see . . . He had remembered underwear, she saw. Three additional shipsuits, another pair of ship boots, underwear, toiletry items.
Thats fine, Stella said. I think you could use more than that, though. You need your own pressure suit . . . a fleece jacket . . .
Weve no time for custom-fitting, Rafe said. Ive got our appraisal lined up. A couple of those rocks you had will cover your ticket and Tobys . . .
And yours?
I pay my own way, Rafe said. Partnership.
Fine, Stella said. She fished out the top pouch and shook out two of the largest. Ill get Tobys kit while youre doing that. Want me to pack for you?
No. I can do that in fifteen minutes. Will you have to take him out?
No. I was going to work through a chandlers and order it delivered to the ship. I can draw on the existing Vatta accounts here to cover it. Id already talked to the bank manager.
Good. Ill be back shortly. Ill call before I come in.
Left alone, Stella measured Toby, contacted a chandlers nearest Rose of Bannoths dock, and ordered his clothes, pressure suit, and the duffel to carry them charged to the Vatta account number and delivered to the Roses dockside. Then she contacted the Roses purser to find out if passengers could, or were expected to, contribute to the mess supplies. Optional, she was told, but the Rose carried standard-plus rations, not superior. Stella ordered in four sets of ration upgrades. When Tobys appetite came back he would probably eat twice as much as she did. In Rafes bathroom, she found supplies to dull her hair to a more maternal shade, and tried the cheek pads, which blurred her prominent cheekbones.
Rafe returned without incident, with jewels and a current appraisal. He packed almost as swiftly as hed said, then called the police to report his departure until business improves and put a large deposit with station management to reserve his space.
In less than two hours, they were on their way to 3rd Green, where the Rose was docked. Stella felt itchy all over, but nothing happened. No assassins leapt out of doorways, no shots were fired, no one accosted them for being who they were or anyone else. At the docking bay, Tobys duffel was being inspected by the ships sergeant at arms; when they identified themselves by their new ID, he nodded. Just step over there, please, and see Anson about your ticket; your berths are on hold. If youll leave your duffel here, Ill check it for you.
Restrictions on weapons? Stella asked.
Ship-safe ammunition only, he said. No chemstun, no bios. We allow small arms only after inspection.
Heres mine, Stella said, pulling out her weapon and handing it over. Rafe said nothing, but handed over three to her one. The sergeant looked at Toby, who shook his head.
Then they lined up at the ticketing booth, where the agent approved the appraisal, put the diamonds in a lockbox, gave them a receipt, and issued boarding chips and shipboard ID tags with locators on them. Wear these at all times, the agent said. That way we can find you in an emergency, and youll be recognized by the ship security systems. You still have a little time before mandatory boarding, if you need to purchase any last-minute items from dockside, or you can go aboard now.
Well board, Stella said.
Is all your duffel wanted on the voyage, or do you wish some in deep storage?
All wanted, Rafe said, before Stella could get it out.
Fine. It will be delivered to your cabins before undock. Probably a half hour, not more. If you decide to leave the ship for any reason before undock, you must inform the purser and check with me, here, where you will exchange your shipboard ID tag for a dockside locator/call button.
Stella clipped the shipboard ID tag to her lapel.
The gangway into the Rose had a thin strip of industrial-grade carpet, with a bright yellow reflective strip on either side and the warningSTAY ON CARPET . Once inside, the ships decor carried out the Roselines theme with soft roses, creams, and touches of red and green. They were met by a steward who checked them off a list, and led them to their cabins down a passage carpeted in rose with a burgundy geometric border. The cabins connected to form a small suite, complete with a small common room. Stella, recently off the courier with its cramped, bare-bones passenger space, was delighted with them.
Youre welcome to visit the main passenger lounge and the dining salon, the steward said. Youll find a layout in hardcopy in the desk, or onscreenjust follow the menu directions. Or you can wait here until your duffel arrives. However, when the undock warning sounds, all passengers must return to their cabins, and the sector seals will come down.
Thank you, Stella said.
When they were alone, she and Rafe examined the safety features of the cabins and that end of the corridor. Their ship ID tags each opened one of the three cabins; these could be rekeyed, the desk brochure explained, for members of one party traveling together.
Or by members of a party that has the right members, Rafe said.
Each cabin had its own vacuum seals, and each connecting suite had an additional seal in the passage. Clearly Roselines took safety seriously. So did Rafe. When their luggage arrived a few minutes later, Rafe insisted that they unpack everything and put it away in the cabins. If we have an emergency, we want our suits out. Toby, did you have suit drill aboard ship?
Yes, of course. I told you already.
Good. Well have them here, whether the captain orders them or not.

The voyage to Placer B and then Golwaugh was uneventful except that Tobys appetite returned and he seemed to hit a growth spurt as well. Toby seemed fascinated by Rafes chameleon kit and begged to try it; Rafe taught him the rudiments of disguise. The shipsuits that fit Toby at Allway were almost too small by the time they got to Golwaugh. Stella and Toby stayed aboard at these intermediate stopseach of only a couple days durationbut Rafe bought Toby some larger clothes at Golwaugh. After Golwaugh they were the only passengers on the way to Lastway. The news was not reassuring; only 20 percent of the ansible platforms were up, so that most systems had a several-week communications lag. Both passenger and cargo shipments were down; investment market reports were all out of date, but expected to worsen. Golwaugh was one of the lucky systems with a functioning ansible, so Stella was able to contact ISC HQ and discover that her report had made it there safely.
In Lastways system, the ships crew reported that the Lastway ansibles were also functioning. Stella checked the list of ships docked at Lastway . . . a K. Vatta, with the ship Gary Tobai, was listed. That would be Ky, of course. The local news channel, piped to passengers quarters, mentioned sporadic gang attacks on travelers and warned any tourists to keep alert and stay out of danger zones.
Through the purser, Stella booked onstation quarters for the three of them at a moderately priced hostelry. She could only hope that whoever was after Vattas didnt have a face-recognition program that included hers and Tobys. Rafe, she knew, would take care of himself. The purser arranged transport of their duffel, and the three of them made it to the hotel without incident.
The next job was contacting Ky. Stella considered, and rejected, the onstation communications lines. Too dangerous. She and Rafe and Toby, posing as tourists, climbed on the tram and headed for Gary Tobai .

Baritom had withdrawn its dockside security personnel after what it continued to call this unfortunate incident, but Martin felt that the automated security he had put in place was adequate. Ky was unwilling to hire replacements even if other firms were willing to take a contract with her. How could she trust them? She had ordered some basic torso protection in standard sizes for those of her crew who were outside the ship for any reason, though only Martin and Jim carried firearms. Small deposits kept a hold on the items she most wanted from MilMart, but she had still not figured out what to do next. The three apparent tourists who tripped the perimeter alarms were standing in a row, with Martin and Beeah looming over them, when Ky made it down to the cargo entrance.
Hello, Ky, said the curvaceous but faded blonde in the taupe suit. Im your cousin Stella. Remember me?
Ky could not believe it. Stella? Here? With a teenaged boy and a man? Surely that wasnt her son . . . She struggled to remember how old Stellas child might be. Stella did look older and plainer than she remembered. That Stella had a man, she could believe: he was medium tall, handsome as a vid star in spite of his graying hair, and very aware of it.
What are you doing here? came out of her mouth before she could stop it, and the tone was almost accusatory.
Running away, Stella said. Or running to you, depending on how you look at it. How much do you know?
Vattas been attacked; I dont know how bad it is.
Not a very big ship, is it? the man commented, in a tone that made her angry.
Big enough, Ky said shortly.
Have there been any attacks on you? Stella asked.
A few, Ky said. Unsuccessful, obviously.
Oh, my heavens, the man said, rolling his eyes. Shes a total innocent. What are you thinking, Stella? She cant possibly
I dont know what you think is innocent, Ky said. Ive killed She had to stop and count . . . appalling that she didnt know immediately. four men.
We heard about one at Sabine, the man said. You did it yourself, really? He looked completely unimpressed.
Yes, Ky said through gritted teeth. And it was two, there.
My, arent we the rough girl, the man said. He turned again to Stella. So she can kill. But can she
Stop it, Stella said. To Kys surprise, the man stopped, arching a brow at Stella, who turned to Ky and went on. Ky, this is Rafe. Were partners for the present. Hes under partner bond. He has many talents.
Thats nice, Ky said, thinking that many talents didnt equate to much manners.
And this is Toby Vatta. He survived the blowout on Allray Twohave you heard about that?and hes also a partner for the present.
Ky looked at Toby and had an immediate flashback to her own apprentice voyage. Shed thought having Captain Furman on her tail was bad, but she hadnt been through what he had. Welcome aboard, Toby, she said. Im sorry for your loss. She looked back at Stella. I assume Rafe has a last name?
Yes. Which we will give you when we come aboard, not standing here on a cold dockside. Ky, we had trouble on Allray. Serious trouble.
I can imagine. Weve had some, too. Come on aboard then. She stepped aside and let them pass; Stella gave her a look she could not interpret, and Rafe a look she could interpret all too well. If he thought she was like Stella, he would soon learn different, and he could keep those eyes to himself. She nodded at Martin when they had cleared the locks. Come on, Martin. If anyone comes looking for cargo, let Alene handle it. Its close of trade anyway.
Yes, Captain.
The others had stopped in the rec area; Ky nodded to a table. Have a seat. Lets find out whats up.
Its a long story, Stella said.
Its a long shift, Ky said. Go ahead.
You know about the attacks back home, on Slotter Key?
Some, not much. They hit corporate headquarters and the family compound both, one report said. II expect there were injuries. And for some reason the government is down on us.
Stella nodded. Ky, Im sorry . . . I have bad news for you. Your parentsyour mother died in the attack on the house; your father died of injuries received trying to save her and others.
Ky felt her face stiffen. Now that tiny sliver of light, that window of hope, slammed shut. She had been so sureshe had hoped so muchthat they had not died, or at least one of them survivedshe thought shed anticipated this, but . . . it was too much.
And your brother San. Im sorry, Ky. My father was killed, too, in the bombing of corporate headquarters. My sister Jo died in a separate attack.
Ky felt each name as a separate weight falling on her, pushing her deeper into darkness. Her father, her mother, her brother, her uncle. Aunt Helen? she managed to ask.
Mother was alive when I left Slotter Key, Stella said. So was Aunt Gracie Lane.
Gracie Lane and her fruitcakes-with-diamonds were a poor substitute for the rest of the family. The memory of her fathers face, in that last call, the look in his eyes, came to her vividly. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think, not to see.
Aunt Gracie sent me to find you, Stella said.
To find me ! Surprise almost melted the numbness; she opened her eyes. She thinks Im an idiot.
She thinks everyone our age is an idiot, Stella said. But she thinks youre the one person who can sort this out, and she thinks Im capable of helping you. She knew you needed more data and some help.
Kys mind grabbed for this distraction from the news that her whole family was dead. Aunt Gracie is
Pretty smart, actually. Did you know shed been in the war?
Aunt Gracie? That seemed as likely as that Aunt Gracie had wings or gills.
Yes. I didnt know, either, until she told me. And showed me. At any rate, she told me to come find you and bring you the Vatta command database, to download into your implant.
Kys hand went to her head. I dont have an implant. It was destroyed.
But I know your father sent you another one
I havent put it in, Ky said. Im not supposed to put one in for six months . . . When she counted up the weeks in transit to Belinta, from Belinta to here, it was a lot closer to six months than shed thought.
Brain damage? Stella asked.
Possible neural instability, Ky said. She didnt even want to think about whether that constituted brain damage. And how did you get hold of the command database? I mean, if myyourour fathers were killed in the attacks . . .
Stella looked away, and swallowed. Your father lived a few days, Ky . . . and Aunt Gracie . . . took charge of the implant.
Ky stared at her. Her stomach roiled; she did not want to consider what that meant, or how it had been done.
At any rate, if youre going to take over as the offplanet Vatta representative, youd better find a way to use the implant information.
You could Ky began, but Stella shook her head vigorously.
You have military training, Ky; I dont. My expertise is all in another direction.
Ky hadnt heard that Stella had any expertise, but then she hadnt seen Stella for years, what with school, the Academy, and all. And that is? she asked, trying to keep her tone light.
Stella grimaced. If you access the database youll know. Im not sure I should tell you here. She glanced aside at Rafe and Toby. Ky felt a cold prickle run up her spine.
As if you hadnt learned half or more of it from me, Rafe said. But I suppose we must protect innocent young ears. Toby turned to glare at him. Ky felt the same way, but didnt let herself show it.
Later, then, she said. If Im the designated whatever, though, Ill need to know.
Understood, Stella said.
The others could be another distraction. Ky turned to the boy. Toby, how far along in your apprenticeship were you? What kind of ship duties did you learn?
The boy flushed, but met her eyes and answered steadily. I was over half through, and had completed the training modules in all the specialties, so I was working full shifts under supervision. Id done environmental and engineering, and was working on navigation and piloting. In port, of course, we all worked cargo.
Excellent, Ky said. I know you dont have any of your scores, and unfortunately I need documentation of your training, but we have new crew who are working on their certification exams. Lastway has a complete roster of spacer certification courses, and the sooner you begin the better. Whats your strongest field?
Probably drives, maam. I did well in all the engineering subspecialties, but Piersuh, Chief Barklinsaid I had a good feel for space drives.
Good. I could definitely use a good backup drives specialist. Any Vatta, however young and inexperienced, who had ship service would be better than Jim. Im going to assign you to that area; youll be informally assessed, and then start formal classes in a couple of days. That suit?
Yes, maam, Toby said.
I dont know when we can get you back to a place where you can have regular formal schooling, Ky said. What were you planning on, or had you decided?
I was supposed to go to Terquathe main engineering prep school on my home planet, maamand then I hoped to get into Davisi Tech for advanced work, and then back to the fleet.
Um. Ill download additional course work for you, for when were enroute. No sense in having you lose more educational time than necessary. Ky turned to Rafe, who was watching this with a condescending expression. Now you, sir. Your last name, if I may be so bold . . .
Of course, Captain, he said, leaning forward, meeting her eye, and putting on what Ky assessed as a pseudo-honest expression. Though you may as well know that I have several last names, by which Im known on different worlds. I was born with Dunbarger, but havent used it for years. Stella first met me as Rafael Stoner Madestan.
Dunbarger! Stella said.
I said I havent used it for a long time, Rafe said. Its not . . . euphonious. It is, however, my birth name if anyone were to track it down.
Dunbarger . . . , Ky said. Where had she heard that name before? Somewhere that had meaning to this whole situation?
ThatDunbarger, Rafe said. The one youre so obviously trying to remember. ISC senior officer. Very senior, at the moment.
Into Kys mind popped the memory of ISCs command structure: Dunbarger stood right at the top.
You might consider me a remittance man, Rafe said. If you know what that is.
Youre Garston Dunbargers son? Stella said. You?
I had to learn company manners somewhere, Rafe said. The knowledge of which fork to use and how to tie a cravat is easiest learned in the kind of home my . . . parents . . . kept. He kept his gaze on Ky, nonetheless.
Very interesting, if true, Ky said.
Oh, its true. I can even prove it, though I would prefer not to call down the kind of trouble that would bring on Lastway. At any rate, I was sent away, for cause I might addno bad feelings on my sideand strongly encouraged to choose another name, or fifty. And laterheres another new tidbit for you, Stellalater I was hired back, as it were, after a bit of good behavior, which somewhat softened my fathers attitude.
Hired back how? Ky asked.
Rafes gaze dropped to his fingernails, which he appeared to study with great interest. There are things that a supposedly disaffected, disinherited former member of a powerful family can find outcan elicitthat almost no one else can. If you know where both ends of the string are, as it were, untangling the mess someones made of it is far easier. By birth I know one end . . . by experience I discover the other.
Youre a company spy, Ky said.
He gave her a straight look and shrugged. Thats a bald word for a very . . . fluffy . . . concept. Lets just say that I have been put in the way of finding out things ISC needs to know and have been well paid to transfer that knowledge to ISC. Im still not welcome at home, but relations are, as it were, softening with time. None of my sisters has produced an heir, and Father would like a grandchildwell, actually its Mother who wants one worst, I suspect, but Father is putty in her hands.
Youyou! Stella sputtered, clearly outraged about something. Ky looked at her. You contemptible toad!
Now, Stella, sweetling, no need to blow a jet.
Dont sweetling me, youyou She turned to Ky. This . . . this miserable excuse spent two whole days lecturing me on the evils of my past, my luxurious and pampered past, convincing me that I was to blame for the inequalities of the universe because Id never questioned where Vatta money came from, and all that time
How do you suppose I knew what leverage would work, my dear? Rafe asked coolly. It takes one to know one; I knew what would sting me, and thus that it would sting you. And besides, you are so sweet when you feel guilty. As opposed to the way you are when you dont. He held up a finger. And dont say youll hate me forever, because you know you wont.
Toby, Ky noticed, was watching this with eyes wide.
I still dont have a last name, she said to Rafe. Not the one on your current ID, at least.
Oh. Yes. For an instant, a patch of color appeared on his cheeks. He fished out the ID packet and handed it over. Its fake, of course, and only of moderate quality. I had it done in a rush before we left, to throw off pursuit, we hoped. Stellas is fake, too, at the moment. It seems to have worked.
Ralph San Volan, Ky said, reading it off.
Rafe shrugged. I was using Murchison back on Allray, and running a shop selling antiquities and books.
And other things, Stella put in. Ky could tell that she was still furious.
And other things as necessary to keep my lines of contact open with the kinds of people ordinary ISC personnel cannot know, Rafe said, glancing at Stella and then back to Ky. You must realize that those people do not trust straight arrows.
I know that, Ky said.
Good. Because if Im to be any use to you, I need to establish my lines of communication here.
Ky ignored the presumption in that for the moment. She wasnt sure she wanted him to try to be of use to her. Youve been here before?
Oh, yes. Some years back.
Just as a matter of curiosity, when does your partnership contract with Stella and Toby expire?
Um . . . not too long now, I think, Rafe said.
Ky let her teeth show. I suspect you know to the minute, Rafe. Lets not play games.
But games are such fun. All right, in about twenty-three hours. Why? Are you going to ask me to extend?
Im thinking about it. It seems to me that Vatta and ISC interests run together lately.
They may do. But my interests intersect ISCs only in particular areas. Perhaps we should both think about it.
And discuss it in, say, four hours? Ky said.
As the captain wishes, he said, all courtliness. Whoever he really was, someone had taught him manners, and more than one kind. Ky looked again at his gray hair. How old are you really?
You want all my realities revealed? he asked. Very well And he scrubbed at his face with his hands. When he brought them down, a much younger man grinned at her, his face subtly reshaped, his eyes sparkling with mischief. The hairs not this gray or this thin, either, but Id prefer to deal with that in a proper bathroom, if this ship has a proper bathroom. Im only a year older than Stella in true biological time, but Im much, much older in experience.
Ky caught a movement of Stellas hands, and glanced over to find the perfect cheekbones restored to the breathtaking beauty she remembered. Stella opened her hand. Cheekpads, she said. And my hairs not really this color. Rafes got black hair, if you want to know.
Ky looked at Toby, who shook his head. Rafe wouldnt let me, he said. He says as fast as Im growing, Im not the same two days in a row anyway.
Thats a relief, Ky said.
       
       
CHAPTER TWELVE
Wait here, Ky said, while I get Toby settled, and see about finding you berthsI presume youd rather stay aboard than onstation?
I would, Stella said.
Even though a Vatta ship was blown up in dock at Allray? Rafe said.
Even though, Stella said.
I will do as the captain prefers, Rafe said, tilting his head at Ky, and leaving for now hanging between them, unsaid.
Fine, then, Ky said. Ill be back shortly. Come on, Toby.
Toby followed her out of the rec area to Engineering; Martin trailed along. I need to get back to dockside, Captain, if thats all right.
Thats fine, Martin, go ahead. He nodded and turned away. Ky walked on, wondering what she could say to comfort a boy who had lost his family and shipmates. Damned little comfort in the universe, but that wasnt what he needed to hear. On the other hand, maybe he didnt need comfort as much as something to do. Ky said, Stella says youre also in this partnership?
Yes, maamCaptain.
What do you think of Rafe?
Me? Im just
Old enough to be a partner, Toby. Thats old enough to assess the character of a partner, by law. What do you think of him?
I dont exactly know. Heshe knows a lot of things I think are probably bad things, but hes been a good partner so far.
Does Stella trust him?
In partnership yes, but not before. She had me hold a weapon on him, before theyweformed the partnership, when she was showing him what she carried.
Ky turned and looked at him. Trusts you, doesnt she? Could you have shot him?
II think so. He looked tense and worried, which was, Ky thought, exactly how he should look when he contemplated the possibility of killing someone.
Good, Ky said. Well try to keep you out of such situations in the future, but just in case, Im glad to know youre that reliable.
He said nothing, and she led him on into Engineering, where Quincy was leaning over Jim at one of the work spaces; Puddles lay at his feet, chewing vigorously on his leash. Quincy looked up. Whos this, then?
Toby Vatta, Ky said. Survivor of the attack on Ellis Fabery at Allray. News was wrongthey werent all killed.
Howd he
My cousin Stella brought him, Ky said, and cut off further questions with a warning glance. Toby, this is Quincy Robins, one of the most senior engineers in Vatta, and from this point on your tutor. Quince, Toby was more than halfway through his apprentice voyage, and he says his instructors thought he had an aptitude for drives. Since I have no idea when we can get him home, we need to set up a complete educational course for him, find him bunk space, and get him fitted out with whatever he needs. Can you see to that? Order in whatever you need. I have some other urgent business.
Of course, Quincy said. Toby, is it? Youre in a growing stage, arent you? I recognize the signs.
Toby nodded. Is that a . . . a dog?
Its a nuisance, Quincy said. Jims idea. She glared at Ky.
Its a puppy, Ky said. Do you know anything about dogs?
I had a dog back home, Toby said. Before I left for ship duty. She was a mazehound. She didnt look anything like that, even when she was born. Ky had no idea what a mazehound was, but for the first time thought there might be a purpose in having a puppy aboard.
This ones supposed to be a Jack Russell terrier, Ky said. Whatever that is. His names Puddles.
Well need to stock extra rations, Captain, Quincy said. Boys this age eat like a regiment.
Ill put it on the list, Ky said. Quincy seemed to glow with a sudden burst of grandmotherliness, which was just what the boy needed, Ky felt sure. Jim, come along with me. Jims face took on a worried expression, but he got up quickly and followed her back to the rec room.
She heard the low murmur of voices, but not what they were saying; Stella and Rafe were both silent when she came in.
Tobys getting settled, she said. This is Jim, one of my crew, late of Belinta.
Belinta! Rafe said in the tone of that mudball .
Whats wrong with Belinta? asked Jim, scowling.
You wanted to leave, Ky pointed out. Then she shook her head at Rafe. Dont tease him.
Rafe grinned. Happens to everyone, one time or another. And you got out of Belinta. So, what else are you bringing to the party?
Its not a party, Ky said. I need to talk to my cousin alone, and I dont want you wandering the ship by yourself. Jim, youll stay with Rafe until I come back. And I mean stay with, not just in the same half of the ship.
Oh. Jim looked at Rafe with sudden suspicion.
I am so misunderstood, Rafe murmured.
The misunderstanding, if any, is mutual, Ky said, trying not to grin. It would not do to let this rascal know he was amusing her.
Is it? he said, but then sobered, and nodded with what might be respect. Perhaps it is, Captain Vatta. I will be good.
Excellent, Ky said. Jim will show you around; if you decide to ship out with us, youll know what youre getting into. Now youll excuse usStella, come with me, please. With a final nod she left them, and Stella trailed after her.
In her own cabin, she gestured Stella to the bunk and sat at the desk herself.
Youve changed, Stella said.
The last time we met I was what, seventeen?
Theres that, Stella admitted. But I was worried for you, when I heard about that mess at the Academy. You had always been such a straight arrow.
Ive wanted to thank you for your note, Ky said. It did help, especially since Id just had a stinker of a letter from Halfrom a man Id known there.
Men, Stella said. And while were on that subject, a word of warning about Rafe
You think I need one?
Every woman needs one with him. Im sure you feel the magnetismI certainly dobut hes not a safe ride.
I could tell, Ky said. But lets get to business, Stella. You say Auntie Grace sent you
Stella sat up straighter. Yes. Your father tried to call a meeting of the adult Vattas on Slotter Key, after he was hurtbut he collapsed, and Auntie Grace took over. It surprised everyone when she picked me to be her messenger. She knewwell, shed kind of pushed me into itthat I acted sometimes as a special courier for Vatta. You didnt know that, I think
No, Ky said. I thought
You thought I was flighty Stella, still in disgrace. So did a lot of people, which made my other role more effective. When I traveled, people assumed it was just that idiot Stella wandering around being a tourist. Stella cocked her head to one side and her expression shifted; she looked the picture of an inexperienced pretty girl.
Mmm . . .
My father knew, of course. Your father didnt. That made it awkward sometimes. Stella had lost the innocent-waif look, and Ky admired the technique. She didnt seem to move, and yet she changed.
I can imagine. Her own father bragging about his practical, sensible, obedient daughter, while her uncle had to pretend that Stella was still a bubblehead.
Anyway. Auntie Grace downloaded the Vatta command dataset to her own implant. She doesnt think any of the surviving Vattas offplanet have it, and she wanted you to have it because of your military training. Stella paused, and when Ky said nothing went on. Ky, how bad was your head injury? If youre going to be in command out here, we need to know if youre capable
Im capable, Ky said, and hoped it was true. Stella, the things that Ive done after that indicate that Im functioning just fine. It was bad . . . they had to do a memory dump off my implant.
Stella paled. A memory dumpwho did that?
Mackenseea mercenary company. Quite respectable; theyre in the green book. Vattas transported them or their cargo more than once. It was an accident, really. Quickly, Ky gave Stella the bare-bones account of the incident, ending with And then I woke up, in their sick bay, and all the interesting stuff happened later. So if I could cope with mutinous prisoners and an uncontrollable ship and near starvation, I think that means my brain is working. Right?
Stella was still pale. Right, she said. I dont quite understand why you cant install another implant, though.
Their surgeons said I should wait six months to be sure the memory dump and the structural repairs were consolidated and stable. I dont know the details, but Id had those years of training without an implant at the Academy, aimed at preparing for just such an emergency. It doesnt bother me to be without one.
I dont know if the Vatta situation can wait anotherwhat is it, three months more?
Less than that by now, I think. But I dont see why that matters. Unless the command dataset explains who our enemy is and whats going on, and if it does, our fathers would have been prepared. I dont need an implant to fight a war.
Stella shivered. A war . . . thats what Aunt Gracie said. Its war now, she said, and we need someone with military training to take over. Meaning you. She shook her head. I still think you need an implant . . . wait a minute. You already thought of it as a war? And yourself as fighting it? Without any resources but what you have here?
Ky shrugged. Not many options, are there? What was I going to do, run away and hide somewhere? I was sure other Vattas had survived somewhere; wed need to get together somehow.
I suppose . . . I just didnt expect you to have worked all that out. Well, then, generalor admiral, or whatever you arewhat do we do now?
Ky was ready for this one. I find out what youve brought besides the dataset, and I see if the dataset can be accessed without an implant. I doubt it has anything really useful to me at this point, but it might. I find out what Rafes up tobecause Im sure its more than hes saidand decide whether to take him with us, let him go, or kill him.
Youd kill Rafe ?
If I judged him a danger to the family, of course, Ky said. She enjoyed the shock on Stellas face. It is a war, Stella. Were already in trouble, already losing, if you look at the numbers. We cant afford to let anyone, however charming, cause us more damage.
Now thats sensible. Rafe was at the cabin door, with Jim behind him looking worried. Captain, you were rightI did underestimate you.
And I clearly underestimated you, thinking that Jim could keep you away from my cabin She kicked herself mentally for not having closed and locked it.
We were on our way to the bridge. I merely overheard one sentence of extremely good sense, nothing more, I assure you. Rafe gave them both a smile of blinding goodwill. Stella, you are a genius in your way, but your cousin Ky has won my fickle heart . . .
The reverse, however, is not true, Ky said.
Of course, Rafe said. I would not expect it. I look forward, Captain, to our discussion of partnerships when the time comes. He turned to Jim. The bridge, perhaps? And perhaps we should close the hatch, to allow the captain more privacy?
Thank you, Ky said. On the bridge he would find Lee less malleable than Jim. When they were alone again, she said to Stella, So tell me about Rafe . . . everything you know.
Everything I thought I knew, Stella said. I certainly did not know he was Dunbargers son. If he is. Though that explains a lot.
Stella took a deep breath. It was after that disastrous mess with Jamar, the one I gave the codes to. Id been stuck at home for months, of course, lectured at by everyone over the age of ten. Stupid Stella, idiot Stella, how could you Stella, didnt we tell you Stella, and so on and so on. Of course, I was telling myself the same thing. Then Aunt Gracie showed up, shooed everyone away, told me to quit moping and get a hold on myself, and sent me to an old friend of hers over on Cassagar. Find out what youre good at, Gracie said, because you are a Vatta and therefore you have talents besides looking pretty and attracting bad men.
Sounds like Aunt Gracie, Ky said, hoping Stella would quit telling her story and get back to Rafe.
Yes, well, her old friend Halma turned out to be a fellow veteranthats when I found out about Aunt Gracies own checkered past. I got a fast course in courier protocols and she sent me off to another friend, halfway around the planet. Apparently I did all right, because that one sent me back with a good report. I thought it was all great funyou had to follow the rules to the letter, of course, but it was the kind of challenge I like, blending in and being someone else, or at least being the foolish, stupid Stella on the outside while being a competent Stella on the inside. If you can follow that.
Yes, Ky said, I can. Especially after seeing those lightning changes of expression and character.
Well, I was on another job for Aunt Gracies old friend, at an embassy party on Cassagar, when I met Rafe. He recognized that I was trolling for information just as I recognized he was the same, and he called me on it. I didnt know what to doit was my first political assignmentso I fell back on girlish giggles and sex appeal, and he wasnt having it. Im still not sure exactly how it happened, but the next thing I knew he was teaching me to use his picklockswhich is a very useful skill, and I still use the set he gave meand not too long after that I realized he was the sexiest man Id ever met. Jamar wasnt within six orders of magnitude. Stella grinned and shook her head. Ky thought of Hal, but shied away from that memory.
Stella went on. Also the most dangerous. Also someone with contacts Id never even imagined existed . . . he seemed to have a finger in every clandestine organization on Cassagar. His story then was that hed worked his way up from a state orphanage to a private investigators license, learning formal etiquette from training tapes, but we both understood that considerable dubious actions were involved. We worked together briefly, then I went back home to Slotter Key to be debriefed by Aunt Gracie. After which she and my father employed my skills at intervals.
I see. So . . . do you consider Rafe trustworthy?
Before the latest revelations, I would have said that Rafe stays bought if you pay his asking price, and that hes reliable in partnership agreements. After all, I turned my back on him this time. But Im not sure now . . . if hes really Dunbargers son, and really a permanent ISC agent, then hell be with usor anyone he contracts withonly so long as it doesnt cross ISC.
Im not planning to cross ISC, Ky said. And they should be pleased with me, after the Sabine thing. So with those circumstances, what about partnering or hiring Rafe? And which would be better?
Partnering, Stella said. And yes, I think hed be a good asset, though . . . though Im still peeved that he never told me . . . She cocked her head at Ky. But what use am I, Ky? What can you do with me?
I dont know yet. We may have use for an agent of our own, when we come to someplace where you arent known and wont be an instant assassin magnet. Meantime, you were home more than I was, the last few years. You may know a lot about recent developments in the company that I didnt know.
And I can scramble eggs, Stella said, grinning. Im not trained for ships crew, but some of my skills will transfer.
Thats good. Besides, youre family. And theres little enough left. That black weight bore down on her shoulders again; Ky struggled not to break down.
True, Stella said. She looked sad. I donttheres not been time to grieve, really. It all happened so fast. Though at least I had the time on the courier to myself. It must be worse for you, being out of touch when it happened.
I dont know, Ky said. It still seems unreal. Theyve always been there . . . parents, aunts, uncles, corporate headquarters, the house. I can almost pretend theyre still there, but you cant. And neither could she, for more than moments. She could not make the right decisions if she clung to the wrong data.
Reality bites, Stella said. She stretched. Well. Youve got Toby settled; thats a good thing.
Unless someone blows this ship, Ky said soberly. I do think about that. We should find him a safer place; hes our future. Stella, do youdoes Aunt Gracehave any idea why the government turned on us?
She wasnt sure if someone had outbid us, or scared them silly. When I left she was planning to find out and see if she could correct their thinking, as she put it. I would not like to be the President, with Aunt Grace after him. Stella drew her finger across her throat.
Ky debated for a moment and took the plunge. Stella, theres a very odd thing. Before this happened, someone had sent me a message here to be held for my arrival. I have a letter of marque from Slotter Key
But nobody does that anymore! Stella said, eyes wide.
Thats what I thought, but they do, and I have one. Here Ky handed Stella the padded folder.
This is incredible . . . when did you get it? Youre sure its official?
It came via . . . someone I knew at the Academy. Im sure of the provenance, but Im not sure its still valid. Ky took the folder when Stella had finished reading and put it away. Still, it gives me justifications other than family to go after whoevers doing this.
I never knew Slotter Key ran privateers, Stella said, shaking her head. I thought I knew a lot about local politics . . . how did they keep this secret, I wonder.
I heard rumors, Ky said. I just thought it was vicious slander, but clearly it wasnt.
Privateer, Stella said. She grinned suddenly. Valid or not, with the Slotter Key ansibles down, whos to know?
Not Rafe, Ky said. Im not ready to tell him all my secrets. Besides, can you really see this ship attacking and capturing anything? Thing is, even if I were a military genius, I cant see how to fight a war with one old tub like this one. Shes slow, shes vulnerable, and she has no teeth.
Would money help? Stella asked. Ive got some in the usual hard goods, from Aunt Gracie and my own resources.
Money always helps. Enough to buy a real warship would certainly help, but I doubt youve brought that much. Upgrading this onewe can get as far as armed merchant vessel, which everyone will assume means pirate, but thats about it. Shed need a new insystem drive, some decent shielding, and at least oneno, twodecent weapons systems. Itd cut our cargo capacity thirty percent, and it isnt that big already.
Youve already thought about it.
Of course. I havent been twiddling my thumbs. Ive thought of several things. Running her as a cargo ship, under Vatta colors: likely to get us attacked and blown up entirely too soon. Running her as a cargo ship under other colorsmy own, for oneand hoping nobody figures out shes really Vatta. That would require a new ship chip, of clandestine origin, and time to build up a clientele. The kinds of cargoes you can get in an uninsured, unknown ship are, as you know, minimal. Running her as an armed merchanter, trying to combine light cargoprobably clandestinewith covert attacks on the guilty parties, if we ever figure out who they are. That is dangerous and unlikely to make the kind of profits that will keep us going, unless we take on seriously bad cargo.
Seriously bad cargo may lead us to our enemies . . .
Yes. It could. Either usefully or right into their trap. You surely know that Vatta corporate accounts are frozen, credit unobtainable right along with insurance for either ship or cargo . . .
I didnt realize accounts would all be frozen; I was able to access funds on Allray.
Theyre frozen here, and other places Ive heard of. Ive sold off the cargo we came in with, and I have a few goodies that Aunt Gracie stuffed into a fruitcake for me, but not enough to buy a new ship or convert this one to armed merchanter.
Ill add mine to the pile and see what it comes to, Stella said.
What interests me, Ky said, is that you and Rafe seem to have been doing the same thing for different employers. You really didnt know he was ISC?
No. I cant believe he never told me. And where he came up with that sob story from
Doesnt matter, Ky said. How reliable do you think he is, really? How much of that attitude is surface?
I would trust him to be who he is, Stella said, but Im not sure any longer who that is. Stick to the terms of a partnership, yes. Actually care about anyone? Im not sure.
Weve got a tough task ahead, Stella. We can use all the allies we can find, but we need them to be allies. Or at least acting from enlightened self-interest.
Hes smart, Stella said. I would say his self-interest is paramount, but intelligently adapted to circumstances. Reliable within limits. Within those limits, absolutely.
What do you know about his expertise?
What youd expect from someone involved in corporate espionage. Theres not a lockphysical or electronicthat he cant open, few if any databases are secure if you turn him loose for an hour, and he has a remarkable collection of contacts in multiple systems. If hes telling the truth about being Dunbargers son, then I suspect his actual illicit earnings are much lower than hes claimed. The opposite of crookshes hiding his legitimate income.
Anything more I should know?
That personality, Stella said. Im sure you noticedhes used to having women fall at his feet.
I wont, Ky said.
He hasnt really turned on the charm yet . . . dont believe it when he does.
Did you?
Ouch. Yes, off and on. He still has an effect on me, and Ive seen him with others.
I wouldnt worry, Ky said. Except that from everything you say, Jim and Lee both wont be able to keep him from snooping all over the ship. It will take Martin.
Tell me about Martin. He scared me.
Ex-military; he was at the legation on Belinta. And hes got supply experience, so he took on managing cargo in place of . . . of Gary.
Impressive. You find him comfortable, I expect, because of your time in the Academy. Are you going to offer Rafe a partnership?
Im thinking about it. Reservations?
No. Not if youre careful with the terms. Want advice?
I asked, didnt I?
Then let me review the terms before you offer. Or I can do a draft for you.
Do that, Stella. Use my desk, if youd like.
And figure out how to get that implant in and functioning, Stella added as Ky was on her way out the door. Youre going to need it.

On the bridge, Lee had a dazed expression and Jim was scowling. Rafe, in Kys seat, lounged as if he owned the ship.
Excuse me, Ky said, with an edge to it. Thats my seat.
Sorry, Rafe said. Where do you want me?
Under control,but that wasnt something she could say. Theres a fold-down seat over there. She pointed. Lee, anybody offship?
No.
Good. Nobody goes off until tradeshift tomorrow. Division reports?
At your station, Captain. Nothing much; were down to the dregs for trade, though. MilMarts holding that advanced suite for us, but theyll require a deposit to hold it past the end of tradeshift tomorrow.
By then Ill have an answer for them. Ky looked at the division reports. Quincys had the most data. She had listed all the suitable ships for sale or lease, with costs including provisioning.
Whos doing your dockside security? Rafe asked, breaking her concentration.
We are, Ky said. Remotely.
What system? he asked. Im not just being nosy; Im remembering that a Vatta ship in dock at Allray was blown.
You know how it was done?
No. Outsiders, is what I heard, but Im not entirely sureits one reason I wanted to leave. But remote systems can be . . . confused.
Co-opted, you mean, Ky said. We have mil-grade systems, installed by my own crew, as of two days ago. Does that satisfy you?
Almost, Rafe said. Perimeter design?
Adequate, Ky said, according to what I was taught. Do you have suggestions, Ser . . . Dunbarger?
Please dont use that name. Not even here. Im sure your crew are all perfectly loyal Rafe shot a sidelong look at Lee, who looked studiously blank. but it would be a great embarrassment to me. Besides, its not euphonious.
Vattais not exactly music of the spheres, Ky said.
It has a certain earthy rhythmicity, Rafe said. Dunbarger,on the other hand, sounds like something youd remove during plastic surgery. Call me by the name Stella knows, or Murchison, which I used last. Or you could just call me Rafe.
And you could, suggested Ky, just answer my question. Have you suggestions for perimeter design?
Three independent systems, optical spider hooks set at one-meter intervals, each system capable of alarming the others, but not of damping an alarm. Broadband scanning, full chem and bio suites, a watch officer who knows how to interpret the output. Independent power sources, of course, and secure lines . . .
I think you would find my perimeter design adequate, Ky said. Thats pretty much what Ive got. Anything else?
Anti-tamper?
Of course.
I didnt see it when we came in, Rafe said.
You werent supposed to, Ky said. But its there. And we also have hull-based systems active. Our shields stink, but at least well know what hits us.
I begin to hope you will offer me a partnership, Captain Vatta.
I begin to think I might. But we have business to discuss. Perhaps you will return with me to the rec area?
Of course, he said.
Jim, check with Sera Vatta in my cabin and see if she needs you for anything. Consider yourself at her disposal.
Is that wise? murmured Rafe, following Ky down the passage.
Jim will do adequately, Ky said. And Stella has better taste. She waited to see what he would answer, and when he didnt she added, She found you, for instance.
His brows went up. A compliment?
Recognition of reality. Dont preen.
I never preen . . . well, I suppose I do, but only for cause. So, Captain, what shall we discuss?
Your potential contribution to my mission, Ky said.
I would have to know what it is, to know what I might be able to contribute.
To survive, first. To assist other Vatta ships and family members, like Toby, when found. To discover who our enemy is, and why they attacked us. And then to destroy them.
The brows went higher. Thats a substantial mission for one person and oneforgive me for being bluntsmall, old, and apparently slow ship.
Precisely why Im seeking allies, Ky said. Im not crazy enough to think I can do it all alone. You claim to have expertise relative to ISCs current problems, which I cannot but think are related to ours.
I think youre right on that, Rafe said, with perfect seriousness. When do you think it started?
I know when I hope it didnt start, Ky said. And thats when I got involved with that attack on the ansibles at Sabine. I think it possible that the organization, whatever it was, that planned that attack was sufficiently annoyed with my interference that it retaliated against my family.
I can relieve your mind on that, Rafe said. Your actions would be seen as typical of Vatta, and Vatta had already been perceived as entirely too close to the ruling cliques at ISC. Your high officers, for instance, were close to Lew Parmina . . .
Yes.
Lew is my fathers choice for a corporate heir. He has many enemies inside the corporation, and outside as well. Hes old-line ISC, very much in favor of the status quo. The innovators hate him.
Innovators. Ky had no idea what he was talking about.
Look, Captain, Ill be as honest with you as my other loyalties permit. More honest than Ive been with Stellayou have my birth name, for instance. ISC has major internal problems. I cant tell you all about them. Some I dont know, and those I know I must not tell. But Ive been warning my father for three years that something was going to blow loose. I guessed wrong about whereI thought it would be Allray, not Sabine, and thats why I set up there two years ago. I was trying to get some hard data on who, and how, and when. This secondary attack on the ansible network, knocking them all out
Lastways not outdid you know that?
I heard that from the crew as we came in. I really want a nice long chat with the local manager, because theres every chance hes one of them.
Because the ansibles here work?
Precisely. They seem to work, but do they? Are all messages being sent and received correctly? I rather doubt it. The people I suspect of being responsible still need to communicate with each other and would need a network to usebut a network they control. How many systems do you know, of your own experience, are down?
My own experience? Slotter Key. A ship coming to Belinta System as we left told me Leonora was down, and reported stuffed message bins blocking an automated intermediate station.
Full . . . that shouldnt happen. Cant happen without sabotage, but its a very simple way to mess things up. Easy to fix, if the repair crews know whats wrong and are doing their job. But then easy to screw up again.
Low cost? Ky asked.
If youre an ansible platform tech or administrator, yes. Thats where I think the troubles coming from anyway.
Soyou want to check out the local administrator.
Very much. Actually, first I want to check out the ansibles themselves, the system software. I consider this my highest priority; partnering you would, at this point, be my second. I realize that no woman likes to come in second, but
Dont be stupid, Ky said, more sharply than she intended. Im not a schoolgirl, even if I dont have gray hair. I understandyou have to consider ISC first. But why would you even want to partner with Vatta?
Mobility. More resources. Many of the same reasons you want allies. This is too big for me alone, and I cantdare notgo straight to HQ. I cant claim a place on any ISC ship without revealing who I am, which would make it impossible to uncover the plots and counterplots. Our merged networks are bigger than either alone.
He looked honest, but then good liars did look honest. Ky was sure he was hiding thingshe even admitted he was hiding thingsbut not sure if the things he was hiding were harmful to her mission. She was hiding things herself, for that matter. She caught herself wondering what he really looked like, with his own hair, with all disguises off, and dragged herself back to the issue at hand.
       
       
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
So, Ky said. You want to partner with Vatta Enterprises, Ltd., or with me personally, or with me and Stella and Toby, or what?
Youre in command now, arent you? I believe in going to the top. Id like to partner with you.
Stellas going to be my G-2, Ky said. She wondered if he knew the term.
Good choice, Rafe said. Youll want to have her vet the contract, Im sure. Shall I write out what Id like to see, since you dont have an implant?
Go ahead, Ky said. She called Stella, who arrived with a model contract already drafted. Rafe glanced at it. This is fine, he said. When it was signed and recorded, he stood and stretched.
I would rather not run my inquiries from here, Rafe said. Your security may be as good as you paid for, but I dont want any back-traces.
You have an idea who it is.
An idea. No data. If the ideas right, then they have the same or better tech than I do.
Better tech than ISC?
Better tech than Ive been given. If you could direct me to a bathroom, so I can put my face back on
Down that passage, second left, Ky said.
Captain, theres a call for you on the bridge.
Coming, Ky said. All right, Rafe, go find out what you can. If ISCs whole local office is bent
I didnt say that.
No, but it could be. How long should I wait before rousing the troops?
The troops you dont have? Dont worry unless Im not back in a full day cycle.
All right. And where should we look for the body if youre not?
If I knew, Id be safer. Just dont . . . get into trouble while Im gone.
Ill do my best. See you then. Call us from the perimeteryou can ping Stella, right?
Right.
On the bridge, Lee was holding an open contact with an odd expression on his face. Its a Mackensee ship, he said. Do you want to talk to them?
I wish I could afford to hire them, Ky said, wondering if the value of Stellas contribution would make that possible. Probably not. She sat in her command seat and flicked on her screen. Captain Vatta here, go ahead.
This is Captain Pensig, Mackensee Military Assistance ship Gloucester . I understand you are the same Captain Vatta who had a contract with Mackensee at Sabine?
Thats right, Ky said. She hoped that contract wasnt under dispute somehow; they had seemed quite cordial when she left them.
Were having a . . . a sort of situation has come up, Captain Vatta, and the officer commanding our mobile force would like to confer with you.
With me?
Yes, Captain. Im not sure if youre aware of Mackensee command structure: the ship crews and the mobile forces are, perforce, in different branches, as it were . . .
Are you here because theres a war on? Ky asked. Enough fencing around; she wanted something solid.
No, no, nothing like that. I mean, nothing other than whatevers attacking ISC installations. Were here on what should have been a routine mission, rotating personnel in and out of the local recruiting and consulting station. But somethings come up . . . the ansible failure, among other things . . .
I see, Ky said, to fill in the long silence. And your OIC wants to talk to me? What does heshethink I can do?
Im not sure. As I said, hes not in my chain of command, in fact hes . . . fairly junior . . . but he asked me to contact you, ship to ship. The . . . uh . . . officer who would normally be in charge developed a medical problem and is in cryosuspension. Would you be willing to meet with him?
Certainly, Ky said. But Im not leaving my ship at present. Where are you docked?
Five Alpha Blue. Im sure youd like to speak to him by com before meeting in person . . .
Yes, thank you, Ky said.
Just a moment then. Ill have him paged.
Ky wondered why the other officer wasnt standing by, but the vidscreen of the Mackensee bridge made it clear he wasnt. His face, when he appeared, looked much younger than she expected.
Captain Vatta, this is Lieutenant Mason of the Mackensee Military Assistance Corporation; he is the ranking combat forces officer presently in the system. The ship captain could have been Lieutenant Masons father.
Captain Pensig, Ill talk to Captain Vatta alone, the young man said. A slow flush mounted Captain Pensigs neck, visible on the scan.
Of course, Lieutenant Mason, Pensig said with grave courtesy. The com officer will seal the line. He stepped back out of vid pickup range, and the margins of the screen flickered then steadied as someone walked through the security curtain.
You dont look like I expected, said Lieutenant Mason. He didnt, either; Ky had met only a few of the Mackensee officers before, but all of them had the kind of hard edge she expected from experienced military personnel. This young man did not; he belonged in a shipping office, someplace where everything fit into a routine.
What did you expect? she asked. And why should you expect anything, she wondered silently.
Someone taller, he said. Older, maybe. She looked at his face, and felt considerably older than he looked. You had a contract with uswith Mackenseeafter all . . .
So the tales told, whatever they were, had not emphasized youth and inexperience. That had to be good for something.
So what did you want, Lieutenant Mason?
Id . . . uh . . . like to talk to you. I am the ranking Mackensee officer in this system. She could hear both surprise and pride in that. Ive heard of youwe all have. And I have a dilemma that you may be able to help with.
I dont think we have a lot of extra resources, Lieutenant.
I was thinking we might combine resources . . .
How?
Maam, Id really like to talk to you in person, in a secure location. Could you come aboard our ship?
Er . . . no, thank you. I prefer to stay on my ship. You could come here. That would give her time to find out a bit more about Mackensee on this station.
All right. Ill come right over.
But watch for trouble on the docks.
A sound of throat clearing, followed by Maam, I dont expect Ill have any trouble. Ill bring a squad . . .
As soon as she was offline, Ky called Martin to the bridge and told him about the call.
Mercs want to talk to us? he said. Thats very interesting. I wonder what kind of problem they think we can help with.
I have no idea, Ky said. But theyll be here soon, and Id like you to sit in.
Of course, maam.
Less than an hour later, the external scans lived up to their reputation and programming by signaling the arrival of multiple armed individuals in body armor. In the midst of ten Mackensee soldiers in nonpressure armor, faceplates closed, was their lieutenant, dwarfed by their imposing presence. Martin met them, gave the lieutenant a nod as crisp as a salute, and led him to the ship entrance.
Ky opened the lock and extended the access tube. Lieutenent Mason, welcome to Dockside Vatta.
My escort will remain here, the lieutenant said. He matched his appearance on the vidcom. May I come aboard?
Yes, of course, Ky said. Inside the ship, she took him to the rec area and settled him at a table. Martin stood at ease by the hatch to the galley. The lieutenant refused refreshments, sitting bolt upright in his chair, lips pursed tightly.
Well, Ky said, when he did nothing for several seconds. Spit it outwhat did you want to talk about?
He glanced at Martin. That man
Is discreet and honest, Lieutenant Mason. Thats all you need to know.
To her surprise, Mason flushed red, but he started in. Heres the situation, maam. The local station director says that the ansibles here are up and running, but we arent getting any messages. Any at all. Weve sent them out, but we dont know if our people are receiving them. Maybe the ansibles are blocked where they are. Iwe cant leave without orders; we dont know where to go. And . . . were running out of credit.
Wait a minute, Ky said. What are you doing here in the first place? Did you have a contract to come here?
No, maam, he said. Lastways a good place to pick up contracts; thats why we have a recruiting station and consulting office here. Out on the edge of settled space, like this, things are . . . a bit looser, if you know what I mean. You have arms deals . . . theres MilMartExchange, you know about them . . . the largest purveyor of new and used military heavy weaponry and equipment . . . out here at the Fringe. When . . . someone . . . is thinking of fighting a war, they often come here to stock up on equipment. You must have gone by our recruiting station . . .
Yes.
Its also the local consulting office. Whatever people say about mercs, maam, Mackensee is a quality outfit, platinum all the way. We dont sell war, we sell expertise to people who otherwise will get themselves in unnecessary wars and cause a lot of damage.
Really . . . That sounded like something hed memorized from a brochure. Ky struggled not to glance at Martin and see what he thought of this spiel.
Yes, maam. The Old Man says the only good war is the one that doesnt happenthats why we like to take advisement contracts, not combat ones, if we can. And if the war has to come, better it be fought by people on payroll, because then the costs are calculable. More advertising language.
How many actions have you been in, Lieutenant? Something about the young mans glib delivery was making Ky wonder if hed ever shot at anything but a target.
Er . . . none yet, maam. But Ive had two years of training, one at the Mackensee Combat Simulation and Practice Range.
I see. What made you join Mackensee?
He shrugged. Oh, the usual. Got in trouble, the judge said jail or mail, and I picked mail. I was lucky; Mackensee made me finish school after I went through boot, and my scores qualified me for their officer training.
Ky thought they should have run him through a war first, but after all, shed qualified for Slotter Keys supposedly elite Space Academy on test scores and school grades. And look how that had turned out.
So . . . youre the ranking officer. Were you commanding here, on Lastway Station, or
No, maam. ImI was the payroll escort officer, coming from our corporate headquarters out to Lastway . . . Major Delinn was the OIC in charge here, and Captain Oscone was in charge of troops aboard the two ships. When the ansibles went out, we were at Teglin Junction. Captain Oscone diverted one of the ships back to HQ to get new orders and put me in charge of the troops as well. Then when I got here, about two days later, Major Delinn suffered an arterial blowout and had to be put in cryosuspension because theres no medical facility here that can handle that kind of thing. And that left . . . me.
He sounded both scared and excited. How many do you have in your command? Ky asked.
Ninety-two, all told, not counting ship crews. Its more than a lieutenant usually has, of course. Theres twenty in the recruiting station and consulting office, another twenty in the rotation that was coming in to relieve them, and then the ships complements of troops. Theyre not even the same organization, you see . . .
And a payroll escort officer shall lead them . . . maybe. How many ships do you have here?
Two. Theres a courier with the payroll, and a sheepdog to guard it. Not one of the big cruisers, of course, but well armed and capable of handling anything but major ships of the line. The other ship was much the same, the one the captain took back to HQ.
So what do you think I can do to help you? Ky asked.
I was thinking you could hire us, he said. I mean, we hear that someones attacking Vatta ships and people and things. We could protect you. Then youVatta, I meanwould be guarantors for our support onstation.
Much as shed wanted to hire Mackensee, this young man did not inspire confidence. She hedged. Are youforgive me for asking an awkward questionbut are you entitled to make contractual agreements on Mackensees behalf?
Master Sergeant Dolan says I amI mean, its in the regulations. The ranking officer may make binding contracts provided that such contracts are in the best interests of Mackensee.
And how many personnel in ship crews? Ky asked, thinking that probably explained why they were running short of cash even if theyd brought the payroll. She wondered how big it was. She had no idea what it cost to support a military unit in idleness, a topic not covered in the Slotter Key Space Academy.
Fifteen in the courier, and probably a hundred in the other. Why? They arent my problem.
They were his problem, and he was a very stupid junior officer if he couldnt see it.
What sort of contract were you thinking of? Ky asked.
Like I said, we could protect you. You were attacked, right?
Yes, but as you can see Im fine, Ky said.
Yes, but if you had guards, it wouldnt have happened. And you were nearly killed, they said.
Who?
The Garda. He reddened suddenly. The . . . uh . . . Garda have an arrangement with Mackensee. Long-standing understanding.
I see, Ky said. So you know what they know?
Some, anyway. Master Sergeant Dolan does.
Ky felt a strong desire to talk to Master Sergeant Dolan instead of Lieutenant Mason, but she was sure Dolan couldnt negotiate contracts.
So can we make a deal? Mason asked.
Patience, Lieutenant, Ky said. She felt years older than this young man. I have to assess my needs, and you have to tell me what your rates are. Whatever youve heard, merchanters arent made of money, and we dont have unlimited funds. Arent you people usually hired by whole planets?
Yes, but youre not getting an entire expeditionary force . . . youre just getting us.
Suppose you present a formal proposal, Lieutenant, with estimates of the cost to us, and Ill go over it with my financial officer and see if we can come to an agreement. I have no objection in principle to hiring Mackensee for a job of work, but Im not going to give verbal agreement to an open-ended contract with no details specified. Surely you have a good clerk NCO who can draw up a sample . . .
Oh. Of course. Yes, maam, I do. Perhaps Master Sergeant Roth . . . hed know. Can he . . . uh . . . just ping your implant?
I dont have an implant, Ky said. Why not have Roth work something up, get your approval on it, and bring it over to discuss?
Yes, maam, I can do that. He seemed much cheerier with a definite plan in mind, but then most people were. Ky would be much happier when she had a definite plan in mind. Can we do this . . . uh . . . soon? he went on.
Curiosity and amusement pushed her past tact. Just how short of funds are you, Lieutenant? Ky asked.
He reddened and for a moment she thought he was going to cry. Itheythey just cut us off short, like that, and I know the ship captains have been after me to do something, but what could I do? I was trying to do the captains work and the majors work and I didnt know where anything was, and Dolan and Roth kept looking at me like I was a five-year-old and finally Dolan said why not ask youactually he said that two days ago, but I thought maybe if I just talked to the bankweve always had a good credit rating, and maybe a message would come through from home . . .
Twit,Ky thought. It surprised her that Mackensee had ever taken this one in, but maybe he had unexpected talents elsewhere . . . somewhere.
I asked, Ky said again, this time with a little edge to it, how short you are. Are your people going to have food for the next meal, for instance?
Uh . . . maybe.
Ky rolled mental eyes, and equally mental dice, and came to a decision she wasnt ready to share yet. Send me your Master Sergeant Roth, she said, as if Lieutenant Mason were her subordinate. Do it quickly.
Yes, maam, he said. And can I say anything to the troops?
Idiot. No, she said. Not now. Get Roth over here.
Ill call him from dockside, Lieutenant Mason said. She sent him away looking much happier, and looked at Martin.
He must have got in trouble for stealing candy from babies, Martin said. He doesnt have enough gumption for anything else.
Is he really that bad? Ky asked. I kept wanting to smack him, but
Not officer material, Martin said. Not in my books. Mercs may have different standards.
Slotter Key has no dim-witted officers?
Well, no . . . I mean, yes, they do, a few. I suppose he might have slipped by for some other reason.
So, what do you think about his proposal?
If theyre messed up enough that theyre about to give the troops nail soup, they may not be any help.
They were better at Sabine, Ky said.
Ill keep that in mind, he said. Maybe its just the one young fool.
Ky called for Stella.
Youre looking lively, Stella said. Whats going on with those soldiers on the dock? Did the station finally come to its senses and give us official guard?
No. Thats Mackensee Military Assistance Corporation. The people I contracted with at Sabine, after they invaded the system, and the people whose surgeons extracted my implant.
The ones who nearly killed you.
That was my own crewman, Ky said. I dont blame Mackensee for that, though I wish I knew how much data they pulled from my implant. It was only the Vatta basic, not the full dataset, but still. Anyway. Through a series of mishaps, their local leadership is down to one very junior lieutenant, who was supposed to escort their payroll here . . . and is now in command. And overwhelmed and underfunded.
He has the payroll
But the banks have shut them down on credit, and the payroll intended for twenty doesnt last long when youre trying to support almost a hundred. He wants us to contract with them for protection, so that we can feed his hungry men and women.
Protection . . .
Thing is, Stella, I thought about trying to work something with Mackensee before. They have the expertise, the weapons, the trained personnel. We could use them.
Can we afford them?
Exactly what I need to know. Stella, Im assigning you as financial officer, as well as G-2. You know what you brought into this. Ill tell you what weve got She called up the figures from the trading theyd done and the remains of Aunt Gracies fruitcake diamonds. We need to provision this ship, and decide what upgrades we can afford with and without hiring the Mackensee group. Ill be talking to one of their senior NCOs shortly, someone with more sense than that lieutenant. Give me some numbers.
Right, Stella said. I can do that. Fifteen minutes . . . you had the list of upgrades already loaded, right?
Right.
Rafe came back before Master Sergeant Roth arrived.
Did you know the dockside area is full of big, noisy, obvious soldiers? he asked Ky.
Yes, of course, Ky said.
I hope you dont think theyre better protection, Rafe said. They didnt notice me coming until I was close enough to lob any sort of weapon
I wasnt counting on them for protection from sneaks, Ky said. And Id told them you were coming. What did you find out?
The local ISC rep is crooked as a corkscrew, Rafe said with relish. The ansible is open all rightto him and whoever hes in contact with, but hes blocking all incoming and outgoing messages at will. Hes got a probe into what are supposed to be unbreakable automatic systems. I cant tell yet if the next jump-point ansibles from here are really down, or if hes programmed this one to think theyre down. That would take me several days. There are at least five in the deal on this end, though: the director, all three technical headsone per shiftand a weasel in the records section. That one tried to convince me faked records were real, and of course I believed himto his face.
Wont they suspect something if youre trying to bribe the records . . . er . . . weasel?
Howd you knowwell, yes. Theyll know I want information. From the look on his face, hes been taking bribes from everyone onstation who wants to know whats going on. The shoes hes wearing, the jewelry . . . hes rolling in more money than someone at his level ever makes. But with everyone asking, another one asking is just another source of moneyhe doesnt suspect who or what I am. He cocked his head. Arent you going to tell me about the soldiers?
Theres nothing to tell yet. Ky sighed as he continued to look at her attentively. No, Im not going to tell you. When there is something to tell you, then I will.
You are entirely too cautious, Captain Vatta. I must admire that caution, inconvenient as it is for me. Where is the fair Stella?
Busy, Ky said. And your next project is?
Something Im afraid you cant help with, he said. I would give my left armor at least a couple of fingersto get hold of a bit of technology no one is supposed to have yet. Ever hear of a pin ansible?
As a matter of fact, yes, Ky said. But I dont have one.
His eyes had widened, now they narrowed. Where did you hear of it?
Never mind that . . . whats it good for?
An ansible you can mount on a ship, he said. And more important, an ansible that allows real-time communications while youre in FTL flight.
Ky stuffed her first thought, Thats impossible, back in her mouth and said again, That would be quite an improvement in communications . . . just having a shipboard ansible would be an advance.
Yes. And those do exist. The full-capability ones, those you can use in FTL flight, were in development the last I heard. But I suspect they now exist.
So why isnt ISC bragging about this and selling them for vastly inflated prices? Ky asked.
Come, Captain, you have more business sense than that. I hope. ISC derives its revenues from per-message charges through the current ansible systemwe dont sell ansibles, ever.
Yes, but this is something that would make a bundle
Comparatively? We would have to price it very high indeed, and we would be subject to competition, Ive no doubt.
Yes . . . Ky thought about it. So youre saying that there is a strong motive for ISC to freeze technological development that would risk its monopoly?
He smiled at her. I would not ever say that, Captain, because that would be revealing company secrets. Should you come to that conclusion on your own, I cant stop you.
Ky grinned back. Im glad were temporarily on the same side.
The thing is, if I had a pin ansible now, I could easily find out whether the more distant transfer lines are really blocked, or software clogged. As it is, I have to risk tapping into the station directors control lines, and if hes at all suspicious, hell realize someones snooping.
Quincy called Ky on the ship com. Can we find a time to talk?
Yes, of course.
Im concerned about something.
Now, or a couple of hours? Im expecting a visitor I really need to see.
Couple of hours is fine.
Master Sergeant Roth fit Kys model for Mackensee much better than the callow lieutenant. Ky noticed that he and Martin looked each other over and came to some apparently favorable mutual conclusion. Roth brought with him a variety of Mackensee contracts. Captain, Im glad to meet you. Heard from our people at Sabine you did a fine job coping with those pirates.
Not much choice, Master Sergeant. Your lieutenant tells me youre in a real bind here.
The look on Roths face was eloquent. Ky remembered it well from MacRobert. The lieutenant is . . . not too experienced, he said.
Your OIC had a medical emergency?
He told you that? Roth scowled. He doesntsorry, maam. But he shouldnt have.
Well, lets see what you have, Ky said. We both seem to have a situation that would benefit from cooperation.
Thing is, we cant get through to our headquarters, Roth said. We arent sure that the local ansible manager is being straight with us.
Hes not, Ky said.
You know that? His eyebrows shot up.
I have sources, Ky said.
Your own G-2?
You could put it that way. She wasnt going to compromise Rafes situation if possible. We know hes not straight, but we havent defined how bad it is.
So . . . what are your mission parameters?
My mission priorities are what youd expect, Ky said. Survive, find other surviving Vattas and protect them, find out whos doing this and how, and intervene.
Makes sense to me, Captain. You seem to have the intelligence; we have muscle. What would your strategy be if we were partners in this?
Unblock Lastways ansibles first, then work out from there. Collect a surcharge from other users to bankroll the project that far. If were out in space, were harder to find; if we unblock communications, itll be easier to figure out whos blocking them. Once the financial ansibles start coming online, trade should resume, including bank transfers, which will make everyones life easier, including yours.
So youd like us to do what?
Be the muscle you are. This ship is old, slow, unshielded, unarmed. Id rather spend money hiring you than trying to turn it into a warship. But I dont have much. As you may have heard, most accounts are frozen, not just yours. We have the money we made in trade, selling the cargo we had when we came.
Maam, if you can provision us, I believe the Old Man would not be displeased at a contract that put us back in contact with our people.
I believe I can do that, Master Sergeant. But what about your lieutenant? Will he sign off on this?
I certainly hope so. Our ship captains arent directly in his chain of command, but theyll lean on him.
Another thing, Ky said. Ive had a subcontract under Mackensee, but Ive never been the contract holder. Who calls the shots in something like this? You? Your OIC? The ship captains?
Employer defines the mission, but has no direct command of Mackensee personnel. Ship captains command ship crew in space; troop commanders command troops but under the captains in space, and independently otherwise. In something like this, Id advise stationing a Mackensee NCO as liaison aboard your ship, and your communications would be through him or her to our senior ship captain in space, or to the OIC otherwise. Would you anticipate any station or groundside actions?
Possibly station, not groundside. I would, however, like the option of direct consultation with your ship captains, captain to captain, should anything come up in space. If theyre protecting my ship, they may need to give me data quickly
Oh, thats fine. Its just that you cant tell them what to do, other than to carry out the mission you assigned in the first place.
Then lets get it nailed down, get your lieutenant to sign off on it, and Ill contact the banks to release funds. I presume youd rather provision yourself than have civ do it
Yes, maam, that would be ideal. Our immediate need is for rations; if the captain will take my advice, release just enough for, say, three days rations for a hundred troops, then your liaison can contact the ship captains and find out their needs. That would come to He looked blank a moment. just under five thousand credits.
Fine, Ky said.
Theres just a couple of things, Roth said. Im sure its not a problem; you had a contract with us before. I know your record. But its something I have to say, since youre the primary contractor here; please dont take offense.
All right, Ky said, wondering what was coming.
Are you now or have you ever been engaged in slave trading?
No! She could not keep the shock out of her voice.
Sorry, maam, Im sure these dont apply; its just routine. I have to ask; its regulations. He looked embarrassed but went on to the next. Are you now or have you ever been engaged in transporting goods you knew to be stolen?
No. Now that she knew the kinds of questions coming, it was easier not to react to them.
Are you now or have you ever been engaged in piracy?
No.
Are you now or have you ever been in possession of a letter of marque issued to you by a planetary or system government? Shock again. She paused, and Roth looked up. Maam?
I . . . do have one. From Slotter Key. It was waiting when I got here, but
Roth looked worried. You didnt have it at Sabine, did you?
No. I just said
Because that would screw everything, maam. Youreyoure a privateer?
No, Ky said firmly. Im not. I neverI didnt ask for it, it was here when I got here, and Im not sure its valid anyway, because the government
Maam, Im sorry, but this is a serious problem. Im going to have to call Captain Pensig.
Can you explain?
We dont do contracts with privateers. Legal problems; its against regs. Thereve been a few cases, butyou say you havent used it?
No, I havent used it. It was here when I got here, and Ive been sitting in dock
Thats something . . . , he said, but he didnt sound convinced. The thing is, maam, the term is possession of a letter of marque. Not proof that youve operated using it. Can you prove that you didnt have it before you arrived here?
Ive got the delivery receipt somewhere, Ky said. Quincy would know, probably.
Ill just go back to dockside and call Captain Pensig, Roth said. Ky started to ask why he wasnt calling Lt. Mason, but refrained . . . she didnt want to deal with Mason anyway. She hoped someone would straighten out the legal angles; it would be the worst sort of irony if a letter of marque that Slotter Key undoubtedly didnt want her to have kept her from getting the help she needed now.
In a very few minutes, Lee spoke up. Captain, youve got another call from Captain Pensig.
Pensig looked grim. SoRoth tells me you werent a privateer at Sabine, but now you are. Was that some kind of reward from the Slotter Key government?
No, Ky said. This is what happened. She went over it all again, finishing with So I dont even know if the letter is valid now. Theres no way to contact them; the ansibles are down.
Hmph. The problem is, Captain Vatta, that under the law relating to privateering, possession of a valid letter is construed as sufficient proof that the holder is in fact a privateer.
Ky hadnt known that.
And we dont contract with privateers, since that blurs the lines of responsibility should anyone question the legality of proceedings.
Im not following that, Ky said. Pensig sighed.
I could explain it, but better if our legal staff did. Look here, Captainwere both in a cleft stick. You need our protection; we need your money. I believe you when you say you have not committed any acts based on the authority of that letter. Under these circumstances, I think a limited contract might be possible, but you would have to agree not to use that letter of marque while were in contract, and I must warn you that the contract will likely be rescinded as soon as were back in contact with our headquarters. As you say the letter itself may be. Is that acceptable?
Ky hadnt ever planned to use the letter of marque while with the mercenaries anyway. Yes, thats acceptable, she said.
For our own protection, Ill have to have that clause added to the contract, Pensig said. He sighed again. Ill have our legal staff transmit the changes. Any other surprises?
Not that I know of, but I didnt know about this one, Ky said.
Shortly after that, Master Sergeant Roth reappeared with a revised contract; Ky signed it, and Roth transmitted the details of the contract to the Mackensee station and the ship captains. The lieutenant, predictably enough, thought the Mackensee contingent should get more money, but within the hour they had an agreement. Ky called the bank and had five thousand credits transferred to the Mackensee account.
The menll be pleased with this, Roth said. They were not looking forward to survival rations or being put in cold storage.
Ky had not realized that last was a possibilityfrozen soldiers? She repressed a shudder. One favor, she said. Could you find me someone other than the lieutenant for a liaison?
Roth grinned. Yes, maam, I think we can do that.
       
       
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She was finally getting somewhere, Ky thought. Whoever was attacking Vatta, it wasnt her fault for having killed Paison at Sabine. Stellas contribution increased her resources considerably, and hiring the Mackensee local force at least ensured that they were on her side, and couldnt be hired against her. That had to help with her first priority, survival. Rafe . . . she wasnt sure of Rafe, but factions within ISC causing the breakdown in ansible communication made a certain sort of sense.
She stretched. It had already been a long, long day. Perhaps a nap . . . The exterior com line lit, and Lee answered. Yesyes, the captains on the bridge. Just a moment. He turned to her. Its Captain Pensig again.
No rest for the wickedwas the ancient expression, but it seemed to apply to the virtuous just as well.
Ky sat up in her command chair and flicked on the screen.
Now that youve hired us, Captain Pensig said without preamble, what exactly do you want us to do? I assume not sit here like a target for your enemies and eat up all your credits . . . The habit of command, well honed by conflicts, conveyed the impression that she should have an entire plan of action laid out already. Roth had only been gone a half hour.
Er . . . no.
We need a situation report as soon as possible, Pensig said. Our intelligence considers the threat level to Vatta ships and personnel extremely high
Too high to come aboard for a conference? Ky asked, interrupting what looked to be a lengthy harangue.
No, he said. When?
At your earliest convenience, Ky said, hoping that would be at least enough time to eat something. And if not, what could she feed them? What courtesies did mercenary ship captains expect from employers?
Half an hour, then, Pensig said. Expect three of us: myself, Captain Garners Execwe cant both leave our shipsand Master Sergeant Dolan. Oh, and an escort, of course, but theyll remain in your docking area.
Fine, Ky said. Ill expect you then. Drat, drat, drat. She was hungry, she was tired, she was not in the mood for a strategy conference right now. But they were coming, and she was the host.
Theyd been eating stationside food, as Ky had been saving space for shields or weaponry, so she called down and told Quincy to organize some refreshments for the coming conference. Fresh nibbling stuff, nothing that needs cooking. At least two, wearing protection, one of them armed, she said. And make it quick. Theyre coming in a half hour, and I want to get cleaned up. And dont let that miserable puppy get loose.
Right, Captain, Quincy said, though she sounded as if she was laughing. The pups all right, in his way.
Hes in everyones way, Ky said.
Stella, in Kys cabin, was deep into computation; Ky hoped it was their financial status being brought up to date. Im showering; we have company coming, Ky said, on her way into the head.
Who? Stella asked.
Our new employees. Strategy conference. Youll want to be there. Martin, too. Let him know. Then she was into the shower, twisting the knob for a hard pulsing spray. She toweled off quickly, pulled on her bathrobe, and went back into her cabin. Stella turned around from the desk.
That was fast.
Fast showers are a specialty at the Academy, Ky said, yanking underwear out of a drawer. Vatta dress blue, she decided, dressing in one swift flow of movement while Stella stared.
Ky, it takes me that long to get my clothes off the hanger, even if I know what Im going to wear.
Ky buttoned the jacket. So?
Im impressed, thats all. Why do you want me at this conference? I dont have any background in strategy.
There are three of them and one of me, Ky said. Yes, Im the employer, but I still want better numbers.
All right. Will these clothes do?
Yes. Youre businesslike. You may not need to say much.
In other words, shut up and let you handle it?
No. But Im introducing you as a source of information and also as my financial officer. Vattas financial officer. You can look grave when money is mentioned.
Grave concern, Stella said. Her face settled into exactly such an expression, and Ky grinned.
Excellent. Martin represents something they understand; hes so obviously ex-military. We have five minutes; lets go set up the space.
Quincy had sent Toby and Mehar up to straighten the rec area; Ky had them go into the galley and lay out some platters and plates in readiness.
You invited them for dinner? Stella asked.
No. But I suspect employers are expected to offer refreshment, and since were already feeding their troops, I might as well feed these officers. The food should be arriving shortly.
The officers arrived first, with their escort. Ky welcomed them aboard and led them to the rec area. Pensig she had seen onscreen; in person he was half a head taller than she was; she could feel her spine stretching in response. The Exec off the other ship was a stocky balding man about her own height with bright blue eyes; the enlisted man with hashmarks up his sleeve was, she assumed, Master Sergeant Dolan. He looked as if someone had hacked him roughly out of cast iron. He gave her an appraising look and then a slight, sharp nod.
Please be seated, Ky said. Refreshments are on the way. She hoped they were; she had expected them by now. The dock areas grocers werent that far away.
Thank you, Captain Pensig said. This is Lieutenant Commander Johannson, Captain Garners Exec, and Master Sergeant Dolan. He looked at Stella.
And this is Stella Vatta, Ky said, ignoring Stellas married name. She wanted the implied heft of the Vatta name. She is my senior intelligence officer as well as acting CFO for Vatta family interests off Slotter Key. And this is Gordon Martin, whos in charge of our security measures.
Do you have other Vatta family members aboard? Pensig asked.
Yes, a survivor of the attack on a Vatta ship on Allray. But Tobys a little junior for this conference.
I see. Master Sergeant Roth explained that you would prefer another liaison than Lieutenant Mason. That made it necessary for myself, as senior ship captain, to contact you. Would you care to explain your objection to Lieutenant Mason?
She could not tell from his tone if he was displeased by it or not. Lieutenant Mason told me he had no combat experience, she said. While I have no doubt that the training he received was thorough, I would prefer to deal with individuals who have actually seen action.
Ah . . . he told you?
Yes. How else would I have known?
I see. So, hiring mercenaries, you expect and demand experience . . . that makes sense. He smiled at her. Do you perceive your need as including ships as well as ground troops?
Yes, Ky said, wondering what this was about.
Very well. I realize that our command structure is unfamiliar to you, but if you define the mission you assign to us as including ships for more than mere transport, then I, as senior ship captain, become the ranking officer, and I may appoint anyone I choose as customers liaison. You have not asked, but I will tell you that my combat experience is . . . extensive. You are welcome to peruse my file. He handed over a data cube.
Ill take you at your word, Ky said, hoping that was the right response. His smile broadened; apparently it was.
Well, then, I think Master Sergeant Dolan will do you very well for onstation or onplanet liaison, and once were beyond the first stages of planning, Lieutenant Commander Johannson will be your fleet liaison. Will that suit?
Perfectly, Ky said. She had no doubt of Johannsons combat experience; he had the look.
As I understand it, you have defined our mission in terms of protection of yourself and any family members, discovery of the source of the attacks, and counterattack against this organization. Is that correct?
That is my mission, Ky said. My resources may not extend to obtaining your assistance in all of it.
Understood. But first and foremost is your safety and security, and that of your family members whose locations we knowthree, isnt it? I would advise you most strongly, Captain Vatta, to depart this station immediately. We are more able to protect you in space than here, where I understand you and your crew have already been subject to attack. We cannot move our docking slots to cover your flanks, for instance; there are other ships already docked there. However good your dockside security, there is no way to protect you against attack using the exterior of the station.
I see, Ky said. I had hoped the external monitors we have would be sufficient. You think not?
They were not at Allway, Stella said, where Tobys ship was blown up in dock. I was told it was with mines placed on the ship from outside, probably by agents using the maintenance hoppers. And I know Ellis Fabery had external monitors; all that class did.
Well, then, wed better take advice. But I have a few questions. Captain Pensig, I had been waiting to complete resupply in anticipation of installing a defensive suite and possibly some weaponstheyre on hold at MilMart. What is your advice there?
If you can afford better shielding, and have it delivered within a few hours and install it yourself, fine. Otherwise, my advice would be to load and go as quickly as possible. I can offer crew assistance in that, if it will speed you.
Stella, contact MilMart for me and get a delivery estimate on the defensive suite. I know Quincy can install it en route. Then tell Alene to order in supplies. Leave just enough room for the defensive suite, if MilMart can deliver it dockside in two hours or less. And while youre at it, check on whoever Quincy sent out for supplies. They should be back by now.
Stella nodded and left the room.
You have someone overdue? Pensig asked.
Yes, Ky said. A pair of them. Damn it, they were only going as far as the grocers down the way.
With permission, sir, Ill check on that, Dolan said.
Pensig crooked an eyebrow at Ky, and she nodded. They had the resources and for the moment it was hers.
Names? Dolan asked.
Just a moment, Ky said, and went to the comunit, flicking it on. Quincy?
Yes, Captain?
Whod you send out for food, and have you had any word?
They arent back yet? Jim and Meharthey werent going far; I told em to get whatever was available at Farmboys just down the way.
Stellas going to ask you the same questions in a minute, Ky said. Mackensee personnel are going to go looking for them.
Ky gave the names, descriptions, and destination to Dolan; she had a sick feeling in her stomach. Dolan nodded and left the room. Before Ky could say anything, Stella came back.
MilMart says they cant deliver for at least six hours, but its available now. Want me to find a delivery service?
Well take care of that, Pensig said. If youll authorize our pickup. They do know us . . . He smiled.
Will do, Ky said.
I notice you dont have an implant, he said. You havent replaced the one damaged at Sabine?
Your surgeon advised me to wait six months, Ky said. Stabilization of neural repair or something like that.
Had it checked?
Havent stopped, Ky said. Life became . . . interesting.
I see. Would you like one of our surgeons to evaluate?
Not at the moment, if were kicking out of here as fast as possible. Ky wasnt at all sure she wanted a Mackensee surgeon investigating her brain anyway.
Any seizure activity? Sensory abnormalities?
No. Im fine . . . I think. Why?
Only that it would be simpler if you also had an implant. But youre right, this can wait. Collecting your defensive suite shouldnt. If youll contact MilMart with authorization, Ill get a squad over there right away.
Excuse me, Ky said. The secure lines are all on the bridge. She left them there, taking deep breaths on the way to the bridge. She had not anticipated that events would move with such speed, and yet why not? If you hired military, you expected action . . . or you should. She felt stupid and slow, and she hated that feeling.
On the bridge, she opened one of the secure lines to the bank and authorized a draft to MilMartExchange for the cost of the suite, and then spoke to MilMart authorizing Mackensee personnel to pick up the equipment.
Soyouve hired mercs. Well, you hired good ones, the accounting manager said. When will they be picking it up?
Soon, Ky said. Within the hour, I should think. By the way, your policy statement states that you maintain customer privacy and discretion
Oh, sure. Nobody wants anyone to know what theyre buying or who for. Dont worry, Captain Vatta. Weve been doing this for years. Are you sure you dont want that weapons suite?
Im sure, Ky said. She wasnt at all sure she trusted that casual assurance of discretion, but she had no choice, really. Lee cocked an eye at her as she shut down the line.
Things moving, Captain?
Indeed, Lee. Well be undocking today, soon as we can load up this defensive equipment and supplies. Start the ball rolling with the station about that. She shook her head. And I thought, once I got back to Belinta with that load of tractors, that everything was going to be simple and boring again.
He chuckled. Somehow I think you arent cut out for boring, Captain.
Ky shook her head at him, and went back to the rec area. Youll want the authorization number from MilMart, she said, handing it over. Theyre ready for pickup any time; the banks released funds. And they promise discretion, for what thats worth . . .
Pensig pursed his lips. MilMarts pretty good about ittheyve made their reputation and their fortune by keeping their mouths shutbut theyre big enough now that leaks could happen. He looked blankly into the distance for a few moments; Ky knew he was accessing his implant. Well, thats taken care of. Now, how about a loading crew?
Good idea, Ky said. I was just
Captain That was Lee, poking his head in. Rafes on the line; he says he needs you.
Now what? Ky excused herself again and headed for the bridge. Rafe, looking a bit rumpled, looked out of the screen at her.
We have a situation, he said. Your crew are alive, but were all . . . being detained.
By whom? Ky asked.
The Garda. That idiot Jim got into some kind of row with someone, the beauteous Mehar backed him up, and theres a body in the produce department of Farmboys, and another in the bakery. And a blood trail out the back, which is what I noticed when I was on my way back here from . . . another errand.
And no one called me?
They say theyve tried twice, and the line was busy. Theyre trying to take statements. I wanted to sit in; they wouldnt let me; Im not listed as a ship officer. But they remember Jim from a previous encounter . . . what is that boy, some kind of explosive device in human form?
Ky ignored that question. So what is the situation now? Do you know?
I know theyre being detained, and from the look on the desk sergeants face, Jim wont be seeing anything but a lockup for a while. Mehar has those wide eyes; they think she was lured into trouble by a bad boy and is too young to have good judgment. But it would help if you could show up with some legal aid. At least they let me call you.
Ill be there, Ky said. She met Captain Pensig in the passage; he looked grim.
Master Sergeant Dolan just reported
I heard, Ky said. Some kind of dustup in the grocery, and my people are in custody. I have to get over there
Not without an escort, he said. And if you dont mind, Id like to come along. His mouth twitched. Getting my people out of trouble with local law enforcement is something Ive done too often before. Do you have a local attorney?
Not really, Ky said. I took advice on the disposal of cargo originally consigned to Leonora, but that was purely commercial.
Um. Ill have Joe send someone along. Again that blank look.
Ky ducked into her cabin for her formal captains capeno use trying for anonymity in this situationand hurried down to the dock. She couldnt take Martin along; he needed to be dockside to receive and load the cargo coming in. He looked grim as she told him what she knew, but nodded when she said the Mackensee squad would go with her. Ky felt marginally safer surrounded by them, but still scared. She was sure that a gifted assassin could find some way to kill her anyway.
The section Garda station was some distance away. Outside it, two men in uniform stood guard, scowling as the group came toward them.
You cant go in there like that, one of them said. What are you up to?
Keeping Captain Vatta alive, Captain Pensig said. Since the station refused to give her any protection, and shes already been attacked, she hired professionals.
Glares.
Excuse me, Ky said, but I believe my crew need me. She stepped forward. The guards said nothing as she led the way in.
Inside, Rafe lounged against the wall, straightening when he saw her; his expression remained ironic. Ky nodded at him without speaking and went to the desk.
Im Captain VattaI understand you have been trying to reach me?
Couldnt get through, the man said without looking up. When he did, his eyes widened. You brought them!
It seemed wise, Ky said. Since my crew and I have been attacked onstation before and the Garda have refused to give us protection
You have too many enemies, he said. And so you hired mercs
Its not illegal, Ky said. I would like to see my crewmembers, please, and find out what the problem seems to be.
Problem is, that murdering ruffian you have in your crew just killed another two people
Ky felt her brows go up. I do not have murdering ruffians in my crew. If by another, youre referring to the man I shot, that has already been adjudicated as self-defense, and the dead man was part of the gang that attacked me
Three of you people have killed someone on this station. Id call that serious cause for concern. Most people make it through a lifetime without killing anyone.
Most people arent attacked repeatedly by someone trying to kill them. Self-defense isnt murder.
There was no attack. He shot a poor old lady as lived in the neighborhood for forty years, thereabouts, and
Kys heart sank.
I suppose youve done the forensic matching already, Captain Pensig said, peering at the ceiling as if he found it interesting.
Well, no, but theres no need. Nobody but him and that girl had any weapons. And she only had that pistol bow.
And the second body? Ky asked.
Dockworker. Only been here a month, but nothing against him.
And the third? Rafe asked from behind them. Found the owner of the bloody footsteps yet?
I told you before, there was no blood trail when we looked. If youre one of this lot, Im not surprised you lied about it.
I think Id better speak to your shift supervisor, Ky said.
Hes busy . . . busy with that crew of yours, the man said. You can wait until hes free. You seem to think youre special . . . His gaze went past Ky to the door. She turned to look; a lean man in Mackensee uniform with a lock case strode in; the escort moved smoothly aside and closed in after him.
Captain Pensig, said the newcomer. I got here as fast as I could.
Thank you, Major, Pensig said. Captain Vatta, this is Major Grawn, our legal affairs officer.
What seems to be the problem here? Grawn asked.
The problem is, this Vatta crewmans been in trouble over and over since she docked The clerk nodded at Ky. One thing after anotherillegal biologicals and now hes killed at least two people
Is alleged to have killed two people, Grawn said. I believe this station operates under the General Code, does it not?
Well, yes, but things are a little different out here . . .
Grawn cocked his head to the right. Either you operate under the General Code, or you dont. Which is it?
The General Code . . . mostly . . .
And that means that accused persons have the right to legal representation, including during interrogation, isnt that right?
Ill have to check, the clerk said, reaching for a button on his desk.
Go ahead, Grawn said. Im sure youll find thats the case, and when your officer in charge confirms that, tell him that legal representation is here.
But youre military and the murdthe accusedis civ. Her crewman.
Shes retained our assistance, Grawn said. Her legal problems are our legal problems.
The clerk muttered into his equipment, then looked up. All right. You can go back. She cant, nor any of the rest of you.
Grawn didnt move. A ship captain is held legally responsible for crew behavior and damages to a station, under the General Code. Isnt that right?
Yes. Very grudgingly.
Then Captain Vatta is also a party to the accusations, and has a legal right and duty, under the code, to ensure that her crew are being treated appropriately, and to have access to all pertinent information. Shes coming with me.
Ioh, all right. But nobody else. He got up to show the way.
No one else, Grawn agreed. He nodded at Ky. After you, Captain.
They passed a large office and two smaller ones. The corridor turned left, and she saw two doors, each with an armed guard outside. One opened as she approached, and a short, stout man in a business suit looked out.
If it isnt Major Grawn, he said with no enthusiasm.
Inspector Filgrim, Grawn said, mirroring the lack of glee. How nice.
The last time you were here, Filgrim said, that was a mess.
But not our mess, Grawn said. So I am in hope it is not our mess this time.
Only if you make it yours, Filgrim said. Which I hear you have . . . frankly, were I you, Id have been a little more wary of taking employment from a Vatta. That with a sour look at Ky.
Oh? What do you have against Vattas? Grawn said.
They have enemies. People dont have enemies all over the galaxy for no reason. Probably been up to something for years and finally got found out.
Until recently, have you had any complaints against Vatta ships or crews?
Well . . . no. But thats just because we didnt realize
Or because Vattas enemies have nothing to do with Vattas wrongdoing, and are entirely self-motivated.
Everyones guilty of something, Filgrim muttered. Never met a civ who wouldnt lie
Or a law officer, either, Grawn said. Enough. Youre interrogating members of Captain Vattas crew without legal representation present. I am now here; I will be present for one, and Captain Vatta for the other.
Thats
By the code, Grawn said. You have a male and a female in custody, right? Ill sit in with the male, and Captain Vatta clearly should sit in with the female.
Filgrim looked as if hed bitten into a sour fruit, but nodded, and opened the door wider. Ky got a glimpse of Jim, with a blackening eye and hunched shoulders, at a table inside. Then Filgrim nodded to the next door. The girls in there. I havent gotten to her yet. You can go in.
Grawn nodded at Ky and she went into the next room. Mehar sat at another table, watched over by two guards.
Are you all right, Mehar? Ky asked.
Yes, Captain. Im sorry
We have legal assistance now, Ky said, interrupting. Major Grawn from the Mackensee Military Assistance Corporation. You will have a representative while youre interrogated.
I dont know how it happened, Mehar said. We had just picked up some fruit, and we came around the end of the radiated display
You should wait until Major Grawn gets here, Ky said, hoping she was right. Im really more interested in how you are.
I wasnt hurt. Jim fell down when the display was hit and fell on him.
Display?
Yes . . . they had a tower of cans, and something hit it, probably a solid slug, and it fell. Jim was right beside it, and the cans landed on him. I was far enough back, so I ducked, and then I heard the shots.
Im surprised they missed Jim, Ky said. If he was down and in plain sight.
Whoever it was just shot at everything, Mehar said. The lights above me shattered. I heard lots of people screaming, and things breaking and falling.
And you
I hit the deck, Captain. I didnt see anyone shooting at me, so I just lay there. Then the Garda arrived. They said we shot some people, but it wasnt us
Did you see anyone?
There were people in the store when we got there. Just . . . people. I didnt really notice them, except for one of the quad humods. HeI think it was a hedidnt need a basket. I watched him pick up plums and apricots and apples all at the same time and use the fourth hand to twist the bag-ties. We were supposed to hurry, Quincyd said, so we just picked out the fruit and went on
The door opened. Ah, Major Grawn said. Captain Vattathis is Mehar Mehaar?
Right, Ky said. She glanced at Mehar. This is Major Grawn, of Mackensee; hes their legal officer.
Major Grawn came in and sat down; Filgrim followed, looking even more sour than before.
Mehar, have you given a statement?
II tried, sir.
Thats my job, Filgrim said.
Well, then, get to it, Major Grawn said. But try sticking to evidence this time.
Iall right, Ms. Mehaar, whats your version of this.
Mehar, with nervous glances at Ky and Filgrim, told how she and Jim had been sent to buy refreshments and gone to the nearest grocers, where the trouble landed on them.
Why did you start shooting at everything? Filgrim asked.
Grawn snorted. Inspectoryoure making rash assumptions. He turned to Mehar. Did you fire your weapon? Did Jim?
No, sir! I tried to tell them that
Did you see who was shooting?
No, sir. I never saw anyone with a weapon, but things were crashing down, the lights blinking, and people screaming
You never shot anyone? Filgrim was clearly dubious. Which gun was yours?
Gun, sir? I didnt have one. I had the pistol bow, but no bolts loaded. Theyre in that belt they took off me when they brought us in. Jim had a gun, but he didnt have time to get it out before stuff fell on him. She looked at Ky. I tried to tell them he hadnt fired, but they didnt listen to me.
Two people are dead, Mehar, Ky said. They had to consider that.
I assume the store had a vidscan going, Grawn said. Have you reviewed it? Or checked the weapons for discharge?
No, Filgrim said.
Well, that seems to be a good first step . . . not that Im trying to teach you your business, but Captain Vatta was on the point of departure and I believe had already signed on to the departure queue. If these people are not guilty, then heres a way to establish that quickly.
Filgrim scowled, but agreed to review the stores vidscan with them. There on the screen both vidscans played in synchrony: the left aisle and part of the middle; the right aisle and the rest of the middle. Jim and Mehar, heading down the left, pausing to pick up fruit from this bin and that, then turning, coming up the middle aisle as if to head toward the bakery . . . and then, as Mehar had said, shots, broken lights
You see, Grawn said, pointing. They were on the far side of this set of display racks when it started and the old woman went down
They could have
There are muzzle flashes back there. Grawn pointed again. Filgrim boosted the IR sensitivity and the flashes shone bright, well away from Mehar and Jim. Theyve got chameleon gear onlook at those blurry places . . .
Ky spotted four, altogether, four shimmery blurs. All emitted bursts of heat and light. Filgrim ran the scan backward and forward several times. Now it was clear that four customers entering just after Jim and Mehar had suddenly blurred, the blurs moving swiftly past those two, to set up across the far end of the store.
So it wasnt them at all, Ky said.
I suppose not, Filgrim said. Clearly he wished it had been.
They were waiting for your crewmembers, Captain Vatta, Grawn said. For anyone coming out of your ship. Whether to kill them or simply cause you trouble, I dont know. But the sooner you get offstation, the better.
Not without my crew, Ky said.
I can release them, if youre really going, Filgrim said. This may not be your fault, exactly, but your presence certainly has caused trouble.
Were going, Ky said. Though I dont like being blamed for something I didnt start.
We have an escort to take Captain Vatta and her crew back to the ship safely, Grawn said. So we will not need to call on your forces.
I dont have spare men anyway, Filgrim said. Fine, then. Go. He waved his hand. All you ever bring is trouble anyway, you traders.
Ky opened her mouth to say something, but Grawn shook his head at her, and she nodded instead. I hope you have no more trouble, she said.
       
       
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nothing disturbed their passage to the dock; Ky arrived just as the defensive suite was being delivered by Mackensee personnel.
Jim, go let the medbox check you out; Mehar, stand by for the moment. Jim, walking a little unsteadily, wandered up the access and into the ship, following the squad with the cartons and lifter.
Any other supplies to come aboard? asked Lt. Commander Johannson.
Ky looked at the status board just inside the docking tube. Nowe could squeeze on another five days rations, but thats about it. Well undock within the hour. Is that fast enough?
I hope so. He tapped the bulge in front of his ear. Our people report unusual external activityrepair bugs, that kind of thing. Not right here, but enough of them that Traffic Control is expressing annoyance. Id like you a solid ten kilometers offstation.
Ky tapped her handcom. Quincyhow soon can we undock?
Without blowing seals? Weve got a place in the queue in fifty-eight minutes, with the tug Missy Mae . Insystems ready to warm up. Station seemed glad to have us going . . .
Theres a concern, Ky said. Ask Station if anyone else is in our way if were a little quicker; Im on my way to the bridge. Bring the insystem drive to standby. She turned to Johannson. Ill see what I can doour slot is fifty-seven minutes.
Right. He signaled to the Mackensee NCO in charge of the loading group. Well get out of your way, but watch the area. The squad that had delivered the packages came out the hatch on the double.
Ky looked at Martin, who was standing nearby. Lets start buttoning up, then.
Yes, Captain.
On her way to the bridge, Ky felt her skin tightening; she could imagine one or more of the little one-person repair scooters easing up to the hull, planting mines. Her ears registered the pressure fluctuation as the hatch sealed. She passed the medbox alcove; Jim sat hunched over the diagnostic module, holding something to his face that she hoped would take care of his black eyes. Stella, in the galley, turned; Ky shook her head and went on to the bridge. Lee was talking to the station.
Were small. Weve undocked without a tug before.
The face in the display had a sour look. And weve had ships undock without a tug that put us at risk with reaction
You wont feel a thing, Lee said.
Thats what they all say, the duty officer said. Just a little squirt, thats all,and we end up having to expend fuel to counter the rotational effects . . .
Well, if the tug can hurry it up
They cant. Theres a traffic jam up on Ring Five; some idiot kids decided to hold some kind of rally in repair scooters. Tug would have to risk collisions to come now. I dont see why you cant wait.
Icy tingles ran down Kys spine. Someone wanted them delayed, still onstation when something went wrong.
Captain Vatta here, she said, silencing Lee, who had his mouth open to reply. We have received a credible threat, involving those same repair scooters. Whats current traffic status on this ring?
Uh . . . there are a couple of nonscheduled scooters, probably just those kidscoming around Dock Four-B.
A sector away. What was the maximum acceleration on those scooters? The only external scans she had were focal scans of a few hull locations, not wide-area.
Sorry, she said. Were departing now; we believe that those scooters may intend to plant mines on our hull.
But theyre just kids
Maybe, Ky said. To Lee, she said, Shut down all external access, Lee. To the duty officer, Were shutting off externals; well be pulling out as soon as the boards go green. Slowly, I promise.
You Vatta . . . , the man said. If it werent for you
I didnt start this, Ky said.
Airs clear. Waters clear. External coms clear
Close curtain, Ky said. Unlike their emergency undock from Sabine Prime, she was not going to cause any more damage than she could help. The ship, external attachments retracted, lay in the docking bay with no more physical connection to the station.
Confirm curtain sealed, the duty officer said. Formal clearance . . .
Take us out, Lee, Ky said.
Maneuvering, he said. The deck didnt so much as quiver, but the instruments showed their relative motion. Ky said nothing. Again unlike their earlier emergency undock, they werent using the insystem drive, but the less powerful attitude controls. Ky switched on nearscan as soon as the nodes had cleared the stations blanketing structure . . .
There they are, she said. Two tiny dots, just showing around the curve of the station. Their projected course took them directly to what had been Gary Tobais docking bay . . . as she watched, they angled outward.
Were not clear yet, Captain, Lee said. His fingers twitched on the controls. One meter per second . . . and the acceleration was only 0.001 meter per.
Insystem, Ky said.
Insystem hot, Quincy said.
Were too closewe could give em a wobble, Lee said.
Well give them worse than that if we blow up this close, Ky said. I want the drive up . . . well engage as late as we can, but no later.
The tiny dots crawled nearer . . . they couldnt go far, but they were faster than the ship.
Minimum coming up, Lee said.
Rotate the ship parallel to the entire station axis, Ky said. Well do less damage that way . . .
That took precious seconds, and the two tiny craft were within what Ky considered throwing distance when she said Engage, one-quarter power.
Gary Tobais rotation and the shove of the insystem drive sent them off at a solid ten-meters-per-second acceleration; in the scan, the two dots crossed paths and curled around, trying to chase them, but theyd already opened a distance. Repair scooters, Ky knew, couldnt top a ten-meters-per acceleration, and quickly used up fuel at that rate. One of them, though, closed distance. Not just your ordinary repair scooter, then.
Youre being pursued, the station duty officer said in a surprised tone.
I noticed, Ky said. Half power, she told Quincy. The ship opened the gap again. Something flashed in the scan behind them . . . the first dot vanished and the second boosted back toward the station. You might want to intercept that one, she said to the duty officer. You might learn something to your advantage.
Uh . . . right.
Where do you want to go? Lee asked.
Right now, I just want enough distance to be safe, Ky said. Maybe ten kilometers
Gloucesterto Gary Tobai.
Gary Tobai, Ky said. The screen flicked twice, then steadied on Captain Pensigs face.
Our scans report an explosion near your position. Any damage?
Nowere fine.
We recommend you continue on present course for six hours, Captain Vatta.
But we Ky swallowed the rest of that. Six hours, right.
His face relaxed. Well be in touch on a secured link, Captain. Gloucester will cover your retreat; Scapa Flow will remain onstation for the present.
On her nearscans, the Mackensee ships trace edged out, carefully staying between them and the station.
Stations not mad at us, Lee said. Who do they think might take a potshot?
Theres a lot of spare armament, Ky said. Someone else couldve made a critical purchase from MilMart, after all.
Mmm. So were not really safe until we clear the system, is that it?
Ky thought about pointing out that they werent going to be safe anywhere, and decided against it. Well . . . the farther away we are, the safer. It takes a lot of power to run one of the big beam weapons. Missiles, though . . . wed better get our defensive suite up and running. Ky turned to her com again and called Quincy. Hows the installation coming?
Installation! I just got the last carton unclipped!
Well, chances are well need it now or we wont need it at all, Ky said.
A silence on the other end, a mutter she couldnt quite hear, then, I am definitely retiring after this trip, KyCaptain. I am too old for this. Im supposed to fit these things in one-meter intervalsdo you have any idea how much climbing that involves? Quincy didnt sound scared, just annoyed.
Tobys young and agile; so is Jim. Martin probably knows how to install that kind of thing. And maybe Rafe can help.
Rafe! Youd trust him with our defenses?
We need the suite installed and running, Quincy. Whatever it takes.
Right.
Ky sat back, fingers drumming on the arm of her seat. They were alive, by the margin of a few seconds. They were back in space, where spacers belonged, and she had an ally now. Maybe more than one, if Rafe had been honest about his family name. She thought he was. But . . . alone, with two Mackensee ships, and a hole in the bottom of the budget . . . so they had provisions, but troops ate provisions as locusts ate grain fields. She would have to have money at the next place they stopped . . . she needed to spread the cost of all this . . . but how?
Ky, have you eaten? Stella, sandwich in hand, peered around the entrance to the bridge.
Since when? Ky asked.
Thats an answer of sorts. Ive made sandwiches; heres one. She handed in a plate piled with neatly cut triangles.
You cook? Ky said. She had not suspected Stella of any domestic skills.
Stella grimaced. Sandwiches arent cooking, and I told you I could scramble eggs. Ill just send some down to the others.
Good idea, Ky said. Now that they werewell, not safe, but definitely safershe was hungry. That snack intended for the visiting officers had never been delivered. She put the plate between herself and Lee; both of them ate in silence for several minutes.
Then Lee looked at her. Do you think well be attacked now?
I hope not, Ky said. She put down the sandwich she was eating. Its all happened so fast . . . at least we have help this time. We can actually do something.
He picked up another triangle of sandwich. You have a plan, then.
I will soon, Ky said. Actually I have a plan now, and were succeeding in the first objective, which is staying alive, with mobility unimpaired.
And next?
Find and aid any family members we can, before theyre all killed. Figure out whos doing this, and how to strike back. Same as I said in the first place.
And you trust the mercs?
They hold to contracts, the same as we do, Ky said. What happened last time wasnt their fault, and we were paid well for our trouble.
Yes, but . . . He chewed a moment in silence, then swallowed and went on. Is there any chance well get back to regular trading?
I dont know, Ky said. Nobodys going to be doing regular trading as long as the ansibles are down. If thats taken care of, and as long as our enemies arent attacking us directly, we ought to be able to go back. It wont be the same, of course, with all the damage Vattas sustained. Well have to rebuild the business. Even as she said it, she wondered if it could be done at all. It had taken generations to build Vatta from that first ship to the shipping empire it had become. She cocked her head at Lee. Why? Are you ready to go find another ship? Is adventure looking less attractive than a few days ago?
He shook his head. No, Captain. Im just considering the ironies.
The ironies?
Yes. Your father picked me as junior pilot to Riel, as you know, on the basis of my safety record. My reputation in the trade was as a solid, serious young pilot with no wild tendencies. He didnt knowbecause it would have done my application no goodthat I had always wanted something more exciting than piloting a trader. But when my parents were killed, I needed to find a job quickly, and I was a year too young to qualify for military training. I thought it was a tragedy at the time and was prepared to be miserably bored for the next fifty or sixty years. I realized soon enough that even civilian piloting had some adventure in it, but it was still . . . missing something.
You still crave adventure? Ky asked.
Even after seeing it close up. Yes, Captain. If you decide not to go back to ordinary trading . . . dont worry about me quitting, is what I mean. If you want me, that is.
Youre a good pilot, Lee; of course I want you on the ship. Lets just not have too much adventure, all right?
Its your call, Captain. He grinned and finished another sandwich.
Ky was still thinking about the next step and the five beyond that. She needed money. Traders got money by trading or by providing a service. Theyd sold all they had to sell. What service could she provide, as the target of malicious attack? What resources did she have? What she had to sell, Ky realized suddenly, was protection. As long as she had Mackensee, she had something other traders might want.
Captain Vatta, this is Lt. Commander Johannson.
Captain Vatta here.
Our sources confirm destruction of one stolen repair bug, and the other has been taken into custody. I understand you may have some information on the ansible problems?
Yes, she said. We have an individual with considerable expertise in ISC internal affairs. At the moment hes helping install the defensive suite we just loaded.
That takes precedence, Johannson said. But wed like to talk to him.
Ill let him know, Ky said. Hes not actually part of my crew; we have a partnership agreement at the moment. He helped my cousins get off Allray in one piece.
Ah.
Another thing, Ky said. If Im reading our contract correctly, theres nothing to prevent your escorting a few more trading ships, is there?
In convoy, you mean? Wed usually have more ships for that, but . . . youre thinking of spreading the cost?
Yes, of course, but also establishing the legitimacy of Vatta Transport again. Right now the other trader captains dont want to speak to me in case our problems are contagious. To get shipping contracts, we have to get some of that cleared off our reputation. If I can offer safe, or at least safer, transportation somewhereanywhereit should help.
Good point. Wed want to vet potential participants, though, and wed be limited.
Make up a list of those youd approve, and give me a target number, Ky said. As word gets around Lastway about the attempt to blow us at the dock, captains should be getting nervous and anxious to leave. They may be more willing to listen to me now.
Will do, Captain Vatta, he said.
When he signed off, Ky went down to see how the installation was coming along.
Were working on it, Quincy said. She had the installation routine set up on the screen. All the telltales still readPENDING . Its a good thing the holds arent stuffed with ag machinery; we have to have these sensor units in every ship space, just about. Ive got Jim on that job; hes got good manual dexterity, at least.
Rafe?
With Jim, at the moment. I dont know how much help he is.
Mmm. If hes not essential here, theres something else he can do. We need to deal with the ansible problems.
Quincy gave her a sharp look. You trust him that much?
Ky shrugged. Hes the only one who might know what we need to know. She considered telling Quincy all she knewor thought she knewabout Rafe and decided against it. He and Stella worked together in the past.
Quincy snorted. Thats a recommendation? I mean . . . Stella. Everyone knows about her.
Not really, Ky said. Everyone knows she screwed up years ago, just as everyone knows I was kicked out of the Academya different kind of screwup. Does that tell you all about me?
Well . . . no. But Stella
Grew out of it, Quincy. And shes the family Ive got left. Vattas stick together.
I suppose. Quincy shook her head. Its a new world, and I dont much like it.
None of us does. So well make a better one, that we do like, Ky said with more confidence than she felt. Thats what great-grandfather did, and we can do it, too.
I hope so, Quincy said. So much lost, so many dead . . .
Quincy . . . are you getting enough sleep? This doesnt sound like you.
I . . . cant sleep, Ky. Not enough. I keep seeing Garys face . . . your father . . .
Nothing Ky had ever read discussed what captains were supposed to do when elderly crew came apart. She found herself cradling Quincy, holding her gently, until the old woman stiffened.
Role reversal, Ky said. But its reversible again . . .
Quincy sniffed. Im sorry. Im supposed to be comforting you.
Youd known Gary longer than I had. Same with the other elders of the tribe. Youve lost a lot of friends; Ive lost a lot of acquaintances. Neithers easy. She watched Quincys face relax gradually as she kept talking.
Im all right now, Quincy said finally, as she straightened up.
Good, Ky said. Let me know when Rafes free, or if you need more help with this. I can use a socket wrench myself, you know.
Oh, I know. But captains have other things to do.
True enough. My next move is to spread the cost of our military assistance among the ships I hope will convoy with us to wherever were going, when we figure that out.
Thats a good idea, Quincy said. But do you think theyll come? What you said before
Situations changed, Ky said. We were almost blown in dock; others have to be feeling anxiousthats what I told Mackensee anyway. Ill bet some of the smaller independents will sign up.
Rafe ambled in from the far reaches of the #3 hold. Quincy, Jim says hes ready for the next set of attachment pins . . .
Ah, Rafe, Ky said. Can Jim get along with Tobys help, dyou think?
Easily, Rafe said. Why? Do you have something else for me to do? He put an edge on it that made Kys teeth itch.
Yes, she said crisply. Quincy, let me know when the installations complete, so I can let our escort know. Rafe, come on with me, please.
They settled in the rec area; Ky stepped into the galley, noting that Stella had left it spotless, and brought out a pitcher of water and two glasses. Rafe got up and came back with a lime and a small knife. Before Ky could say anything, Rafe spoke.
You were much on Stellas mind, a few years past, Rafe said. He did not look at Ky directly, concentrating instead on taking the peel off a lime in one smooth, even curl. She had no idea why he wanted a peeled lime.
Oh? Ky waited.
Yes. She spoke of you quite a bit. Apparently you were being held up as an example of a properly brought up young Vatta daughter. Courteous, coolbutter wouldnt melt in your mouth, is how she put it, not at noon in midsummer. Straight arrow, never makes mistakes. He glanced up; Ky said nothing. You annoyed her quite a bit. Stuck-up young prig, I believe, is what she called you. Born to be a military martinet, all rules and rigidity. Is that how you remember it?
Not quite, Ky said. He would be getting at something, but she couldnt yet tell what; she wasnt going to let him drive a wedge between her and Stella. I dont know who in the family was telling her that, but I was getting the lectures on how good girls didnt want to be spacers or soldiers, and what made me think I had the qualities necessary anyway, and why wouldnt I settle down with a nice boy from one of the other good families.
And why didnt you? Rafe asked. This time the look from those bright eyes pinned her, as neatly as ever her brothers had pinned the bugs they studied. Youre good looking enough, and Stella managed to find a boy she liked
Who caused her a lot of grief, Ky said. I heard about that. Besides, you ought to know about family ambitionsyou went rogue, too.
Rafe winced dramatically. Aha palpable hit. So you claim that you went rogue by going military? Or was it by being kicked out that you went rogue? What did happen?
Nothing that concerns you, Ky said. She didnt need to talk about that with this man, whom even Stella did not seem to trust completely.
Oh, but it might, Rafe said. Things like that last awhile, when youre young. It hasnt been even a year yet, has it? Seeing as youre the one in charge of this affair, Id like to know how stable you are.
Stable enough, Ky said. Stable enough not to worry about what you think of my stability.
Ouch. He mimed sucking a pricked finger. Sharp as a tack, you are. Stella said that, too. Dont you ever wonder what else she said?
Not really. Ky gave him look for look. Stellas probably said a lot of things, as I have, that she wouldnt say today. Makes no difference.
Mmph. Maybe. The last of the lime peel came free. Rafe arranged it back into the shape of a lime. The lime itself, held in his left hand, he dropped into his water. Do they grow these where you came from, on Slotter Key?
Limes? Yes, in the garden. We dont have a citrus orchard.
Tik, as I recall, is your familys main cash crop. Valuable. Mild euphoric and stimulant, various fractions also useful in pharmaceutical manufacturing.
Yes.
Ever taken tik tea and added lime?
No, Ky said, wondering where this was leading.
Dont. Not a good idea. Chemical reactions make it taste bad and give a headache like being slugged with a rock. He sipped his lime water, shook his head, and dropped in the peel. The thing is, people are always mixing things they shouldnt mix. Limes and tik. Guns and butter. Morality and
Not that lecture, Stella said, coming into the compartment. She had changed into a one-piece garment that looked like brown plush, and her gold hair shone against it. Rafe, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Its true, Rafe said.
Its trite, Stella said. You peeled that lime for her, didnt you? She grinned at Ky. Its leading up to why you and he should get into bed together, even if it doesnt work out, because mixing unlikes is inevitable or something. The lime peel trick is supposed to demonstrate his manual dexterity and fascinate you with inchoate possibilities.
Worked with you, Rafe said in what was almost a growl.
Not really, Stella said. I already wanted to try it; you almost put me off with the professorial bit. I admit being impressed by the lime peeling.
Ky looked at Stella. I thought you said
We werent involved, Stella said. I just slept with him and that was it.
Ky wondered if that was true. She could not imagine sleeping with someone and not being involvedthough she had been involved without the sleeping with . Was the look Stella gave Rafe now really that cool? Rafe, meanwhile, had a stubborn expression that Ky did not want to see aimed at her.
You still Rafe began.
I thought we were going to be discussing strategy, Stella said. Isnt that right, Ky?
Right, Ky said, switching tracks with some effort. Now that we have some military assets, we can start doing something.
Do we know enough?
We know enough to get started, Ky said. If we wait until we know it all, well wait forever. On this she was confident; she saw surprise on Rafes face, but Stella just nodded. But I have a few questions for Rafe.
And what are those? Rafe asked.
Does ISC know that some of its station managers are corrupted? Will there be . . . repercussions from them . . . if we remove one or two?
Remove, as in
Kill, Ky said.
Rafe went still all over for a moment, then one hand twitched.
Theres not another quick way to get communications back up here, she went on. The station polity has no interest in listening to me. They arent suffering; they think theyre better off as they are. Other shippers are suffering, but theyre scared to do anything. Any legal approach will take weeks to months, and hell get away while doing more damage. We need him gone, out of his position permanently and quickly. That will give us some legitimacy in the eyes of the others.
Killings a bit extreme, Rafe said, in a voice devoid of resonance. Dont you think?
Not in this instance, Ky said.
Ky Stella began, then stopped. She shook her head, then went on. Ky, Vattas notnot ever beenthat way.
Vattas not ever been at war, Ky said. We didnt start it; I want Vatta around at the end of it. So, Rafe, what do you think ISCs reaction will be?
He was silent a moment, then folded his hands and gave her a steady look. I think if theres sufficient evidence of his treachery, they will overlook a . . . an accidental death. At least in the sense of taking no reprisals against other Vatta. I think they will be upset, however. It sets a bad precedent. ISC has never allowed anyonegovernment, commercial entity, whateverto judge its people.
They didnt take care of it, Ky said. The edge in her voice surprised even her; she saw in their faces that they were both startled. It cost livesis costing lives. My position is that I am doing what they would do, and they had best accept it.
You sound almost as if youre threatening ISC, Captain. She did not miss the shift to formality. If that is so, then I must remind you where my primary loyalty lies.
I hold your partnership agreement at present, Ky said. If you forswear that
He winced. I know that. Butbut you are asking meperhaps asking meto breach an older trust.
I dont think so, Ky said. As an ISC agenthowever covertyou are being asked to consider whether this ISC employee is guilty
Oh, hes guilty, all right, Rafe said. No doubt at all. Deep in the conspiracy. I have the evidence, too; I was on my way back to the ship with it when your people got in that trouble in the store.
Well, then. What would ISC do, assuming they had the resources at hand?
Hed be . . . all right, hed be dead. We do have an . . . an enforcement arm that is . . . not subject to any governmental restrictions. So, do you want me to take him? He looked haggard now; Ky wondered at that.
Would you? she asked. He stared back, his expression grim, and did not answer at once. She went on. I expect youd wait for orders from home. I expect youve had to do it, and dont like it.
Not much, Rafe said. His voice was breathy with the effort to keep it light.
Then leave it to those who do, Ky said. Stella drew in a sharp breath; Ky did not look at her. What I ask of you, as the ISC representative, is agreement that he is guilty, that there is sufficient evidence, and that a quick removal is in the best interests of . . . Her voice failed for an instant, remembering too well in the best interests of the Service . of ISC and its customers.
Rafe nodded. Thatthat I can do. I do not see a conflict between the partnership and my loyalty to ISC in making such a report.
Good, Ky said. She smiled, but neither of them smiled back. Stella looked as if someone had hit her in the stomach; Rafe simply continued to look grim. Ill tell our liaison. They want to talk to you about the evidence.
It would be a good idea for mefor someone from ISC to have custody of it, Rafe said. And to give them authorization.
Do it, Ky said. We might as well clean up the whole mess while were about it. Lee can set up the secure line for you on the bridge.
You surprise me, Rafe said, as he got up. He left without saying anything more.
Stella put out her hand as if to touch Kys arm, then withdrew it. Ky . . . I almost feel I dont know you. I mean, when you said leave it to those who do . . . you didnt mean yourself . . . She let that trail away, then shook her head. Of course not; you mean the mercs. I suppose theyd have to.
Kys stomach tightened. On the one hand, Stella was her closest family member; she should tell Stella the truth. On the other . . . she could not face what she expected of Stellas reaction. Not right now, anyway. Later, maybe.
Ill need a complete assessment of our financial situation, she said instead. Im going to try to get a few other ships to sign on with us as a convoy under Mackensee protection. We can spread the cost that way. But even so, were going to have to be careful. That defensive suite wasnt cheap.
Stella nodded. Right. And good idea about the convoy, Ky.
Thanks. Itll depend on how scared the remaining traders are about attacks in dock.
       
       
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ky made it to the bridge before Rafe was through talking to their liaison. He looked grim; Lt. Commander Johannson looked satisfied.
Wed like to have your . . . agent . . . aboard for this, Johannson said. As he has ISC authorization.
Rafe? Ky said, looking at him.
Rafe grimaced. My value, to you and ISC both, is at least partly in my being known only as a neer-do-well. If Im part of the hit
I didnt mean part of the team, Johannson said. In fact wed rather not have you; we have enough unknowns in the equation already. But aboard ship here, in direct communication, ensuring that our people got the right . . . mmm . . . evidence.
Then only a shipload of your people would know who I am, Rafe said. And how many is that?
Do you really think Johannson began, then stopped. All right. I see your point. Even if they dont know your name, information could be stripped from them. Disguise?
Rafe gave Ky a strange look. Could I pass as Vatta, Captain?
The only Vattas declared aboard are me, Stella, and Toby, Ky said. Youd have to have been . . . oh . . . hiding out on Allway, or something. Maybe a Vatta neer-do-well? Old Uncle Jonas, ditched from the family for . . . I dont know . . .
Being a neer-do-well, Rafe said. It doesnt have to be specific, whether I got the second upstairs maid pregnant with twins or embezzled to cover my gambling debts. Years ago and no one knew it; Id been erased from the family tree. Of course that doesnt explain how I know what I know.
Bad boys dont explain, Ky said.
Rafe shook his head. You are entirely too knowing for a young sprig of Vatta virtue, Captain. I begin to think youve spent some time in the back alleys of the universe yourself.
So . . . is that the story? Johannson said, clearly impatient with their badinage.
All right. Ill use the same cover name, Rafe said. I was suddenly recalled to a sense of family duty when the Vatta ship blew up at Allwayor Stella seduced me, whichever is more believableand Captain Vatta here put my nefarious skills to good use.
Coming aboard may be a problem, Ky said. You knowwell, maybe you dontbut we dont have a standard passenger lock, only the emergency. At least the hatch would work smoothly now.
Well send a pod, Johannson said. Do you need a suit as well?
I have a suit, Rafe said. I might just mention how much I hate wearing it.
You might get yourself into it and start checking it out, Ky said.
Give some women command and they go . . . all right, Im going.
Ky turned to the vidscreen. Any progress on the convoy specs, Commander?
Yes: we can handle four ships, including yours. Ill transmit the list of those we think acceptable, ranked by our preference, which of course need not be yours. And theres a red list, of ships we would not accept.
Fine. Ill start contacting captains at once.

Captain Solein Harper of My Bess looked just as forbidding as the first time Ky had talked to him, but at least he didnt cut off the contact the moment he saw her face.
Youve probably heard weve hired Mackensee for our next voyage, she said.
I heard, he said. Two warships to a trader is pretty hefty protection, Id think.
So it is, Ky said. Would you be interested in convoy space?
Convoy?
Mackensee assures me that they can protect four ships in fairly close convoy.
Where are you headed? He wouldnt have asked that much if he hadnt wanted to come, she knew.
Havent decided yet, Ky said. Where were you bound?
Nowhere until I can be sure of communications, but Im eating up profit sitting here.
Communications here will improve shortly, Ky said, hoping she was right. If youre interested, a convoy share will be one-quarter the escort cost, minus the Vatta basic contract. Ten thousand.
Ten thousand! What, you think I haul platinum or something? Eight.
Nine, Ky said. For you.
Done, he said. He would have gone to ten, she knew, if shed pushed. But nine was a big help, and his goodwill might be a bigger one. In Vatta accounts here?
On safe arrival, Ky said.
Ah. His face relaxed; now he looked tough but not vicious. Thats honorably done, Captain Vatta. Youll want another one or two, will you?
You have someone to recommend?
Polly Tendelindependent, fairly new, broke off from Dillon four years ago. Seems a decent sort, kind of rough around the edges.
Ky glanced at the Mackensee list. Tendel was there, though not in the first five. All right. You want to contact her?
I can . . . same terms?
Yes.
A half hour later, Ky had the rest of the convoy lined up: Harpers My Bess, Tendels Lacewing, and Sindarin Golds Beauty of Bel . All the ships had passed muster with Mackensee, andaccording to the transmissions from the stationall were in the process of clearing for departure. As the contract specified, Mackensee had control of the convoy, and thus the rendezvous point. Ky let them handle it. She spoke to Rafe before he transferred to the Gloucester, then tried not to hover over her engineering crew as they finished installing the new defensive suite. She could not resist loading the installation manual to her own workstation, where she could follow their progress without interfering.
She caught herself yawning, and remembered that many hours ago she had been wishing for time to take a nap before the Mackensee officers came aboard. Had she really been awake that long? Another jaw-cracking yawn, and she decided that awake might not be the right term. She called down to Engineering.
What now? Quincy asked.
Sorry, Ky said. Just letting you know Ill be in my cabin, hopefully asleep. You need a break, too.
I had one, and its about time you did. Ill put anything new on your board.
Stella, when Ky came into her cabin, said the same thing. And someone will call you if they need you; you know that.
Yes, Cousin, Ky said. She should shower . . . but she was on the bed, asleep, before that thought ended.
When the call came, shed had almost five hours of sleep. It was Rafe, on the Mackensee ship.
Im going to have to go with them, he said. I cant . . . explain how certain things work, and how to secure the evidence needed without compromising my other oaths. He grimaced. Not as part of the . . . er . . . main team, but in a separate group. These people dont trust me, which I suppose is natural, so they wont let me go to the local office alone.
If its necessary, Ky said.
Oh, its necessary. Rafe glanced aside; though only his face appeared on the screen, Ky was sure he was conveying the presence of an auditor.
Well, then . . . Ky couldnt think what to say. Be careful seemed both unnecessary and insulting.
I believe Lieutenant Commander Johannson wants to speak to you, Rafe said, turning away.
Captain Vatta, Johannson said, coming into pickup range. The other ships in the convoy are now beyond primary danger range, headed for rendezvous. Your representative has convinced us there is sufficient reason for the actions planned. I must now formally ask if your orders concerning ISC personnel remain?
Yes, Ky said.
All right; just checking. Were scheduled to start the operation within the hour, with the transfer of your representative and certain other personnel.
Whats the plan? Ky asked.
You mean in detail?
Yes, Ky said.
Johannson frowned. Its need-to-know, maam, he said. I dont think you should be too concerned
We studied this in the Academy, Ky said. Im just curious to know how youd go about it.
He looked askance, eyebrows high. You studied how to set up a take-out?
Yes. It was part of special ops, level two.
Slotter Key must be an interesting place, he said. Suppose you tell me how youd set it up, and Ill tell you if youre right.
Ky thought back to Colonel Aspins lecture. You can do it with a minimal team, if you have to, she said. Sniper and spotter. Better is a half squad, and better yet a squad. Squad leader commands the squad, but the spotter ranks the sniper. Ideally, youve got plenty of intel about the area. You have routes in and out planned. You are hot on com, half the squad spread, covering the routes, the other half in reserve.
Hmmm. So . . . what do you know of the station managers routine?
Not much. I know the ISC offices are on Hub Three, and Id presume the managers would be the most secure . . . Rafe knew. They knew Rafe knew; they had Rafe aboard with them.
Almost. Quite central, anyway. He lives on the same hub, two sectors away. Travels any of five routes, all distinct, and has staggered random times for arrival and departure. Once hes past the first intersection, he can be almost anywhere.
Tagger? We were told to tag if possible.
Tags are traceable. We prefer CAIDyou know what that is?
Ky did. It was considered the latest and best method of remote identification. So youd have a plan, and internal line of travel, from each of his known alternate routes, plus a way of detecting if hes off track and getting someone to him. Here, youd probably use your people who were stationed here in the recruiting and consultancy positions. They know things about the station that arent in the public specs, Id bet.
They do, Johannson said, without elaborating further.
Now you need some kind of disturbance, Ky said. Something to cover the moments around the hit, give the sniper time to break down the weapon and move out of the range of concern. Lots of ways to do that, but theres another place your local staff could help. Bet theyve made friends with people onstation.
You do have the main elements, he said. But I still see no reason for you to know the specific details. One of the rules you havent quoted at me yet is, theres no such thing as secure communications.
Youre right, Ky said. She didnt want him to be right. She wanted to see it all, learn it, but in this instance learning could be followed by dying . Though she was paying for them to take the risk, that didnt justify making it bigger. She left it there, not asking how big a team would go with Rafe to secure evidence and get the ansible working properly again.
Hours crawled by. She didnt know when to start worrying, when to stop worrying. They were still in close enough to pick up some near-com chatter, but Ky could make little out of it. Ship to ship, the convoy reported in as they cleared local traffic control. Ky, on her own bridge, waited for what she could not really anticipate . . . except trouble. Going back to sleep was not an option. Instead, she munched on food she barely tasted, and tried to concentrate on the operating manual for the defensive suite.
Finally theREADY light on her Mackensee-installed secure com winked; Ky keyed in access. Got im, was the terse response. Clean, employees agent reports ansible hookups restored, and backfiles accessed. Estimates less than fifteen minutes to open ansible contacts and file dumping.
If anyone else has a working ansible, Ky said. The backfiles should be interesting, though.
We already have someone working on ours, Johannson said.
Lee turned to her. Captain, the Lastway ansible reports eight blocks of stored messages for Vatta personnel . . . haul or wipe?
Haul em all, Ky said. Somewhere in there might be a clue to what exactly is going on.
Ship chatter rose around them as the Lastway ISC operation opened the equivalent of vast ears and tongue and began responding to everyone. Evidently Vatta messages hadnt been the only ones sequestered.
Hailing Vatta ship Gary Tobai, came from Tendel on Lacewing . What happened to the ansible? Weve got a mass of backfile messages.
Seems to be working better, Ky said. Thats all I know. We picked up eight blocks ourselves.
Coincidence bothers me, Captain Vatta. Tendels narrow scarred face tightened. I prefer no coincidences.
Seems a good one, to me, Ky said. We leave, things get better. Might mean less trouble ahead.
And maybe I dont need convoy protection.
Maybe not. But you signed a contract.
So I did. Well, people always said trading with a Vatta you had to watch your credit balance. I wonder if this is happening everywhere or just here?
Time will tell, Ky said.
Ten minutes. Twenty. Ky forced herself not to pace back and forth.
The secure line blinked again. She picked it up. Yes?
Teams out safely, including your man. Genius with the com stuff, our fellas say. Everyones on course; the squadll be picked up by our courier.
Ky went to tell Stella that Rafe was safe. She took along the eight blocks of back messages; some were sure to be proprietary information, and she couldnt ask anyone else on the ship to go through them.
How are they sorted? Stella asked.
By date, I think, Ky said. I havent really looked yet, but isnt that how backfiles are usually organized?
We can hope, Stella said. Have a spare reader?
Use this one, Ky said, nodding to her desk. We can isolate it from the rest of the ship.
Oh. Of course. Stella loaded the first cube. Mmm. I havent done the dating conversions yet, but I think this is from before the trouble started, which would mean the ISC manager here was fiddling with Vatta data in preparation . . . let me see . . . She pointed to the screen. Just the kind of routine notice Vatta HQ sendssentevery five days to all ports. Corporate news update: no hint of trouble.
Ky looked at the bulletin, its format familiar to her for years, the linkedVT in blue and red, the summary of tons shipped, percent on-time deliveries, percent expedited-shipment bonuses earned, lists of retirements, promotions, new assignments. Her own name leapt out at her: the change in ship name from Glynnis Jones to Gary Tobai as the result of uncontrolled conditions, the successful delivery to Belinta, and her promotion from contingent captain to list captain. Had it been her status as contingent captain that had convinced Furman he could order her around in the Sabine mess?
Successful delivery at Belinta: it mustve been posted just as I arrived, because trouble started shortly after that. I got a ping from my ship about trouble, and was on an ansible uplink to Vatta headquarters when I lost the connection. Thats when things got really interesting, because a team of assassins came into the Captains Guild
You didnt tell me this before! Stella said, wide-eyed.
And weve had how much time to chat? Ky said. Anyway . . . itll be in my log, the universal date. Let me check. She pulled out the notebook. Here
You keep a paper log?
Yeah. Anyway, its . . . 13.34.75. Whats the date on that message?
Its 13.32.75. Where would you have been then?
Ky paged back. Unloading cargo, Belinta Station. After that I went downplanet hunting cargo; we were headed for Leonora but had another several cubic meters of space. I was trying to come up with enough to finance a refit of the ship; shed been destined for scrap, originally, but the hull is sound and I thought maybe I could save it.
I dont have a paper log, Stella went on. Its in my implant. She tapped her head. Universal time, also 13.34. Odd, really. Even with ansible transmission, how did they set up almost simultaneous attacks light-years apart? Unless they used all local talent . . . ship schedules just arent that precise.
We had a course on interstellar terrorism, Ky said. A large enough organization, with enough financial support, and enough lead time . . . and we dont know how many planned attacks didnt go off on schedule, because the ansibles went down.
Did all ansible traffic at Belinta go down when you were cut off?
No. At least, no one said anything. The Slotter Key consul on Belinta told me the Slotter Key ansibles were down, but when we left, Belintas seemed to be working fine. It was such a low-traffic system Im not sure anyone wouldve noticed.
Did you call out on it?
No, I didnt. I figured the bad guys knew exactly where we were, and we should get into space, go somewhere else, try to outflank them.
I still cant figure out why anyone would want to do it, Stella said. Okay, attack the monopoly, I can see that, but why disrupt all communications? Why not just display the ability and bargain from there?
If we knew that, we might know why Vatta was chosen as another target, Ky said. Did those ISC couriers tell you that ISC ships were being hit?
Nobut then they didnt tell me much. Not even the route we were taking.
Which suggests to me they were worried about attack, Ky said. I hope Rafe can pry more information out of the local ansible before we clear space. Something about all this just doesnt make sense. Why Vatta? Werewe wereimportant on Slotter Key, and were a major shipper, but were not the only major shipper, and Pavrati hasnt been hit that we know of.
But we are, after the Sabine thing, known as a friend of ISC, Stella said. Even before that, corporately, weve supported them in discussions with other shippers. And our unarmed ships travel on scheduled routes, making them easier to find than ISC couriers, which dont.
Point. Ky rubbed her face. So if I hadnt been so prominent at Sabine . . . if I hadnt been so obviously in tight with ISC . . . maybe none of this would have happened.
Stella touched her arm. Ky, I dont think its your fault. No one back home even hinted it was your fault.
They didnt have time, did they? Ky said.
A few could have, but they didnt. You cant blame yourself . . .
Oh, yes, I can, Ky said. I certainly canand I do, in part. I know its not all my fault, but I didnt make things better. Hindsights no good if you dont use it.
I just dont want you taking all the responsibility
Not all. Just some. A mistake I dont intend to make again. Though how she was to avoid it, she had no idea. Wars are won by those who make the fewest mistakes, one of her instructors had insisted.
Stella looked at her with an odd expression. Ky . . . is that coming out of your military training, or have you really changed that much?
Changed?
Well . . . I dont want to insult you or anything, but back when you were a kidbefore you went off to the AcademyI thought of you as kind of a dreamy, impractical sort. Youd come out of it to do something hopelessly romantic, like champion some natural-born loser . . . we were always hearing about your lost pups.
Ky felt her neck getting hot. Hard to lose a family identity even when it doesnt fit, she said. You should know about that.
Stellas face hardened. True enough. But you were different.
Was I? Ky turned away. They even had me convinced that I was too softhearted and softheaded. If everyone tells you . . . what did they tell you, Stella, that led you to that first mess?
Stellas eyes widened in shock, then she looked thoughtful. I suppose . . . everyone always made a big thing out of how pretty I was. Jo was the smart one, Benji and Tak were the strong athletic ones, and I was . . . Oh look at Stella, isnt she adorableand Good grief, Stefan, youll have to use a cannon to keep the boys off her. I couldnt outscore Joshesshe wasbrilliant, and I never wanted to outsweat Benji and Tak. She paused. So . . . are you telling me you arent softhearted and an easy mark for stray pups? When we have a literal stray pup on this very ship?
Ky snorted. Puddles isnt my fault. Oh, I suppose I couldve let the locals kill the beast, but they annoyed me.
You saved the dog to spite the Garda? Stella said, brows arched.
More or less, yes. And it might prove useful yet. The vets assistant said this breed makes good watchdogs.
I suppose, if you have foot-tall assassins, it might be of some use, Stella said. But otherwise?
Was this the time to confess to a family member her self-discovery at the moment of killing Paison? No. Stella would be spooked, and she needed Stellas support . . . Im not just an idealistic nice girl, Ky said. Her voice sounded rough to her own ears. Any more than youre just a sexy pushover for handsome men.
Thank you for that, Stella said, in a voice that could have been expressing either anger or amusement. So were both renegades, are we? The surviving senior family members, barring Aunt Gracie, who is a renegade in her own way?
I suspect, Ky said, her good humor restored, that Vattas have always harbored a fair number of renegades. Do we even know how our great-great-great-grandfather obtained his first ship?
I do, said Stella. Its in my secured files. And Im afraid youre righthe was not entirely respectable. She shrugged.
Was he a privateer? Ky asked.
Privateer? Maybe. Definitely a raider of some kind, at least for a while. Why?
Remember that letter of marque? I was thinking maybe it runs in the family.
But you didnt ask for it; you arent using it.
Yet, Ky said, as she got up to leave. Stella stared.

Down in Engineering, Ky found Quincy hunched over a screen, reading through the installation instructions again. Toby sat on the deck, with Puddles upside down in his lap; the pup looked ridiculous, kicking one stubby leg as the boy stroked his belly. Jim, across the compartment, leaned on an upright, scowling.
Hows it going? Ky asked.
It would be going fine if that idiot dog hadnt eaten a corner out of one of the cartons so we didnt have all the connectors . . . we spent hours hunting and were still missing one. I think I can cobble something together. I hope. Quincy gave the pup a poisonous look; Toby hunched over it protectively.
You arent going to space it, are you, Captain? Toby asked.
No, of course not, Ky said. But we probably need to confine it somehow out of the way.
Not in a shipping carton, Quincy said. It eats them. And then throws up.
I told you Jim began, but Quincy silenced him with a gesture.
Jim thinks if we give the pup the run of the ship, it will learn where everything is and be less trouble, she said. I think it would be disastrous. As with that carton. I can just imagine us arriving someplacewherever were goingand finding that our salable cargo has been converted into dog messes.
Dogs can be . . . er . . . trained, cant they? Ky asked. Her family had never kept dogs. Cats, horses, birds, and some of the small arboreal creatures, mingas, but not dogs. Shed had friends with dogs, and those dogs didnt seem to be much trouble. They made their messes outside. Of course, here outside was a hostile environment. Didnt we pick up some supplies from the vet?
And a book on training, Jim said, nodding. They can be trained to use a box or something. But it takes time.
Youve trained a dog? Ky asked.
Not myself, but Ive watched an uncle.
Ky was about to say Its your dog; you found it when she glanced again at Toby. The look he gave her said more than words. Toby, she said instead. Youre caught up on your classwork, arent you?
Yes, Captain.
Quincy, how many hours a day do you need Tobys help?
Quincy pursed her lips. Right now? Not at all, really . . . systems are all green, and the rest of this setup is software alignment. Why?
Because I need him to do something else. Toby, that pups your responsibility: I want you to keep it out of trouble, train it, take care of him. I know Jim found it She glanced at Jim. but, Toby, youve had a dog before, and Jim has other duties. If you need help, ask for it, but primarily I want this to be your job. Is that fair?
His face lit from within for the first time since hed come aboard. Yes, Captain! IIll make sure hes not in the way.
Im sure youll take care of him, Ky said. She felt a pang of guilt. The boy had been through horrendous stresses, and shed spent how much time making sure he was doing all right? Next to none. I hope he turns out to be a good little watchdog for our dock area, on stations where dogs are allowed. Be sure to keep me informed how hes coming along.
Captain, could I change his name?
His name?
Puddles just isnt . . . a good name for him.
What would you name him?
Toby glanced at Quincy. How about Rascal?
Sounds good to me, Ky said. Now get Rascal out from under Quincys feet so she can get on with her work.
Yes, maam. The boy scrambled up, all ungainly legs it seemed, and headed for his cabin with Rascalnow awake and wiggling wildlyin his grip.
When he was out of sight, Quincy cocked her head at Ky. That was well done, Captain. Annoying as I find that animal, hell be good for Toby.
And you wont be distracted while finishing the installation, Ky said.
I certainly hope not, Quincy said.
       
       
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The convoy moved out on a slow arc. No incoming ships had been detected for days, but Mackensee had still advised a careful approach to the jump points. If theres trouble, thats where it will be, Johannson said. Ships going for a jump point are usually at max delta vee; they cant maneuver, and they offer an easy shot. What you want to do is go in slow, in formation, looking tough and preserving your ability to maneuver. Behind them, another ship left Lastway, but on a vector that gave no concern; it looked to be headed for a different jump point.
Stella, working through the accumulated messages, found that the Lastway ISC manager had been holding up Vatta messages thereor some Vatta messages at leastsince the last scheduled Vatta departure, some eight standard months before.
If any Vatta ship had come through, theyd have been told there was nothing pending, Stella told Ky. They were working in Kys cabin, and the remnants of a hasty meal were stacked on the end of the worktable. You should have had all this when you arrived. Most of its not that important: updates on prices, margins, that kind of thing. The five-day bulletins Ive put into the database for pattern analysis. Nothings shown up yet. I cant figure out what good it would do to keep a Vatta ship at Lastway out of the Vatta loop, though. When were you originally supposed to arrive at Lastway? Did you have scheduled deliveries?
No, nothing with a late penalty, but we did have a tentative schedule. Let me see . . . Ky called it up. Thats interestingwe were originally scheduled to reach Lastway a day or so before the attacks on Vatta started.
So youd have been there, incommunicado, rather than on a live ansible hookup to Slotter Key. Easy meatno warning. I wonder if they specifically sucked off Vatta messages at the other stations where Vatta was hit?
Still doesnt tell us why Vatta was a target, Ky said.
No, but its clear the plot was laid before you even went to Sabine, Stella pointed out. Then they had to rush assassins to Belinta, or find local talent, before you got back. She sat back. What would you have done, Ky, if youd come out in Belinta local space and been told of the attacks? Would you have docked at Belinta?
I dont know, Ky said. I never thought of that . . . I might have docked at their station, to complete delivery, but I wouldnt have gone onplanet.
They must have been frantic, Stella said. Scrambling to adjust to your movements, knowing that you were the most dangerous Vatta to leave alive . . .
Me? Ky had not considered she might be considered a special threat.
You. Of course. Not just your military training, and your relationship to your father, but what youd shown you could do at Sabine. Now . . . I would wager some of Aunt Graces diamonds that you are well above their threat recognition level.
Ky felt a surge of satisfaction. I hope so, she said. Let them worry. It was ridiculous, in a way. She still had only the one small, slow, unarmed ship; Mackensee would desert her as soon as they had instructions from their headquarters; the other traders in the convoy were her putative allies only so long as they had Mackensee protection. Even so, imagining an enemy being afraid of her felt good.
And now that youre officially a privateer, thats even more reason for them to worry.
Ky looked at Stella, startled. Im not really. You know that.
Remember what the mercs told you? Stellas perfect brows arched. Possession of the letter, whether you use it or not, constitutes presumption of intent.
But our enemies wont know about that, Ky said. Will they? And I dont see that it makes much difference. For all the license the letter gives me to cause mayhem, theres not much mayhem I can cause with this ship. Im sure they know about this ship. She pushed aside the existence of those mines in the cargo holds. For now, Im just a trader captain; Im not ready to hunt anyone down.
Youre a trader with two hired warships, Stella pointed out. That takes you out of the just-a-trader class right there. You had your mercs go in and kill some crooked ISC employees, and even though that was done with ISC authorization via Rafe, it was still done by your orders.
Put that way, the raid on the ISC office did sound like the sort of thing privateers were reputed to do.
Legally, Im not sure, Stella went on. If you hold this commission from Slotter Key, does that mean that anyone contracting with youfor military services anywayis actually working for Slotter Key?
Ky stared at her. That cant be right. Dim memories of military law classes cluttered her mind. But they had never studied the legal ramifications of letters of marque, she was sure. Its not exactly a commission, anyway. Theyre not paying me anything, and theyre not giving me specific orders. I can just trade if I want to . . .
But you dont want to, Stella said. You want to protect and help family members, and you want to find out who attacked us, and you want to take them out. Thats what you said.
Yes . . .
I see conflicts of interest, Ky. Mind you, Im completely in favor of rebuilding Vatta as a trading empire. Locating, helping, protecting our remaining family. Destruction to our enemies, all that. But when I consider this thing She nodded at the folder. I see problems you may not have considered. You have to decide whether youre fighting for Vatta or Slotter Key, for instance.
Both, Ky said. The ISC thing affects both, surely.
It does now, Stella agreed. In the long run, though, those are two different interests, and you need to know which has priority. So do I.
You?
I am carrying your fathers implant, remember? The Vatta command dataset. If you consider the recovery of Vatta your first priority, then you are the right person to take possession of it. But if you rank Slotter Keys interests above Vatta? Then Im not sure.
I suppose youre glad now that I havent put it in, Ky said, astonishment and confusion putting an edge on her voice.
Yes, Stella said calmly. She sat back, folding her arms. Until I knew about the letter of marque, I had no doubts. Now I do. My interest is entirely family, I assure you. I still believe, like Aunt Gracie, that you are the one person who can help Vatta survive, if it can be done at all. It will take all your ability, though, Ky. If Vatta is not your top priority, were doomed.
I saw this letter as giving me a better chance to save Vatta, Ky said slowly. Not a conflict of interest at all.
A tool?
Yes. Ive always thought the interests of Vatta and Slotter Key ran together. Whatever I needed to do to help Vatta would in some way help Slotter Key. Even as she said it, she realized how nave it sounded. Certainly the government of Slotter Key had decided that its interests were separate from Vattas.
For now, that may work, Stella said. Someday, though, those interests will be in conflict. You need to decide now which has priority, before you have to make that decision in a crisis.
Quincys call to announce that the defensive suite installation was complete came as welcome interruption.

You managed it without Tobys help, Ky said, half joking. Quincy didnt laugh.
The boys very smart, she said. Good with his hands, too. He was helpingit was that dratted dog. But yes, weve got it in. Whether or not it works . . .
Ill tell our escort, and then well test it, Ky said. She called the bridge and had Lee contact Johannson.
He says go ahead, Lee said a few minutes later. Theyll observe with their scans and let us know if it looks right from the outside.
Do the honors, Quincy, Ky said. Quincy started the initiation sequence, and the defensive suites control board lit up, segment after segment showing green telltales.
This over here is the active shield function, Quincy said, pointing. And this is the electronic countermeasures, here.
They say the shields are up and look good, Lee reported from the bridge. No gaps spotted, but they want me to roll her once to be sure theyve scanned the entire hull.
Go ahead, Ky said. Can they tell anything about the ECM stuff?
Another pause, then Lee said, No, they say not without launching something at us, and theyd rather not.
I feel the same way, Ky said. Well have to take that part on trust, then. How about power consumption, Quincy?
Right on target, Quincy said. Our insystem has plenty of reserve power; its speed we cant get out of her.
Good job, Quincy, Ky said. You and your crew should take a couple of shifts off, except for the usual.
Thanks, Captain, well do that. This is a new one for me. Now, can I tell Martin to restow the cargo?
Yesor rather, Ill speak to him. I think we should keep access open to as much of this as possible, for repair in case of damage.
I thought the whole point of this was to prevent any damage, Quincy said. You arent planning to get into a space battle, are you?
Not if I can help it, Ky said. But dangerous times . . . its just a precaution.
Martin and Alene had spent the time it took to install the defensive suite working out the most efficient way to restow the cargo. Ky looked at their figures, and agreed with Martin that the odor barrier crates should be readily accessible. She hoped theyd never need those mines, but if they did she wanted them easy to find and use.

Rafe returned to the ship shortly before the transition into FTL flight. Ky and Johannson had agreed that they should first check on an automated ansible in the next system over. The convoy captains accepted the course without comment, except to point out that there was no profit where there could be no trade. Mackensee personnel locked in the jump coordinates in the nav computers of all shipssomeone could change it, but that would both break the contract and alert them that the ship was probably part of the conspiracy. Jump insertion went smoothly; they had planned a 13.2-hour jump to the neighborhood of the nearest automated ansible platform.
I suppose you want me to check out the ansible itself? Rafe asked. Ky nodded. And how are you going to explain that one to the ship crews?
Your expertise in communications, Ky said. They know about some of that already.
Yes, but . . . last time it was just a simple file switch, or close enough they believed it was. This time, I have to get in there and muck with the hardware and the software. All of it proprietary, and how would even a renegade Vatta know that?
Im sure you can come up with something, Ky said.
He gave her a dark look, then shook his head. You really are a piece of work, KyCaptain. You should have been born into a pirate family, not a nice staid bunch of law-abiding traders.
As staid as the Dunbargers? Ky asked.
A hit, a palpable hit. All right, lets see. After being booted out of the bosom of your familyour familyI managed to sucker ISC into hiring me for a time, then quit in disgust because they expected me to keep regular hours. His face settled into a sullen expression that went perfectly with not wanting to work regular hours. Hows that?
That works, Ky said.
Within hours, that ansibles message bins were unblocked, and contact restored with Lastway and other working ansibles.
An easy fix, Rafe said when he came back aboard. Just as I said before, its a form of sabotage thats quick, requires no special equipment, and is easy to reverse. Unfortunately, its difficult to make impossible, so if the raiders come back, they can undo my fix quickly.
Would ISC reimburse you for fixing this, if they knew about it? Ky asked.
You want a bonus?
Im thinking of the others in the convoy, Ky said. If theres some profit in stopping to fix ansibles, theyll be more willing to do more of them.
Ah. There might be, but I cant promise. And calling from here would reveal where we are, which Id consider a danger.
Raiders could follow us by the restoration of access, couldnt they?
Yes . . . but we might be an ordinary ISC repair crew, too.
Ky discussed their next destination with her Mackensee liaison. Wed prefer to clear ansibles between Lastway and our home base, Johannson said. Of course, thats subject to your priorities as long as were working for you, but there are several automated ansibles along the way, and some excellent market worlds for the others.
Lets talk to them all, Ky said. In conference, the other captains agreed.

In the next system, they found not only an automated and nonfunctional ansible, but also a civilian ship whose beacon carried the familiar Vatta tag, moving slowly along far from the ansible, as if transferring between jump points.
Shes a Vatta ship, Ky said. We cant ignore a Vatta ship.
Her beacon says shes a Vatta ship, Johannson said. We could say we were, oh, Fitchs Rangers . . . would that make us Fitchs Rangers?
You have a database of ship registries, Ky said. What does her beacon ID say?
It agrees with the call signal, but thats just common sense. That doesnt mean shes a Vatta ship, or commanded by a legitimate family member. What does your implantoh, thats right, you dont have one. This time the disapproval in his voice was clear.
Ill check with Stella, Ky said. She probably has the complete list.
Shed better. You hired us to protect you and the others in this convoy. All my instincts say that theres something wrong here . . . its the classic pirate trick . . .
Its one ship and she doesnt scan armed, Ky said. You have two armed vessels . . .
Captain Vatta, you may have almost graduated from a military academy, and I will grant that you performed well under pressure at Sabine, but you do not know diddly-squat about threat analysis in real life. What if that ship is mined? What if that ship is stuffed with biologicals that could kill us all? I do not have a full hazmat team aboard, and I do not want to dieor see my people diebecause I walked into a trap.
Ky bit back the angry retort she wanted to make. I appreciate your concern, she said instead. I have no intention of asking your people to risk themselves. But as you recall, contacting and aiding other Vatta family members is high on my priority list. Ill go myself.
Stopping at all is risking us. Doing anything but going back into jump is risking us. He wiped his forehead, though he wasnt sweating. Look . . . youre making the classic mistake that bold youngsters make. You overvalue your own resources and you dont see all the problems. Did you ever read that old chestnut about the young officer trying to interdict a river crossing?
The Defense of Duffers Drift, Ky said.
Yes. The problem is, you dont get do-overs, in dreams or otherwise. Maybe the farm family really is loyalbut you cant take the chance. Maybe this ship really is your familys, and everyone on her is loyal and honestbut you cant take the chance.
Actually I can, Ky said. But I see that I cant ask you to. So you carry on to the next jump point, and Ill match courses and see whats what.
You have lost your mind, Johannson said. We cant let you do that; weve contracted to protect you.
Ky choked back the You cant stop me that came automatically and said instead, Look. We want to unblock this ansible. Well just put Rafe on it, get that job done, and give this other ship a call, see what she does, all right?
Youre making a mistake.
Maybe. But it was in my mission priorities.
I know that, but A deep sigh. All right, heres what well do. Well support through the ansible repair. Then well escort the convoy just outside the system and stand by in case of trouble. With an open ansible and only a few hours transit time, we should be close enough.
Fine, Ky said.
When she called the crew together to tell them what was going on, Martin looked grave. I have to say I agree with the mercs, he said. If youll take my advice
Not if it means running away without finding out if a Vatta ship needs our help.
That wasnt it. But have the defensive suite on, and keep the drives warm, even if you decide to match courses. Someone alert at the scans around the clock. And a plan for what to do if were attacked. Boarded.
A plan
Who goes where and does what. That kind of thing.
Is this something you
Maam, my expertise is in security, not full-out combat. I can suggest some things, but whether theyd work, I dont know. And as for ship-to-ship combat, I cant help you.
Get your suggestions in order, then, Ky said. She had thought of a sudden attack, the ship being blown, but . . . boarded? Maybe she should still take Johannsons advice and run for the jump point. But that left a Vatta ship here alone, a Vatta crew who might even, if theyd been in FTL space on a long jump, have no warning that they were in danger. Its going to take us several days to get closer to her.
Martin nodded.

Fair Kaleenhad the Vatta blue-and-red logo on the hull, but she looked battered by years of space debris. No weapons showed on the defensive suites analysis screen. Her crew had given no sign that they were aware of other ships in the same system, which was sloppy at best. Ky pursed her lips. Ships of that class were brought in for cleaning and repair every two years, at which time the logo was freshly painted. Ordinary light shielding protected it for that interval.
Stella?
Dont look at me. Im not ship crew.
Quincy, Im going to transfer an external feed to your board, Ky said. What do you think?
Fair Kaleen . . . havent crossed paths with that one in decades, Quincy said. Shes one of ours, right enough, but I dont know what route shes on. Looks a bit battered; that logo shouldve been touched up before now.
Well, Ky said, and sat motionless, trying to think things through. Fair Kaleen had been a Vatta ship, might be one now, should be one again, since Vatta needed every ship it could muster. If someone else had taken a Vatta shipone of her ships, she caught herself thinkingshe could take it back. Lets give her a call, she said, and nodded to Lee.
Fair Kaleenanswered the hail with commendable promptness, and in moments her captain was online. Osman Vatta, his broadcast ID stated; stocky and dark, his black hair liberally salted with gray, he looked at Ky with an expression she could not quite interpret. Whose are you? he asked.
Whose?
Whose kid. Im sorry, youre a captain, but to me, youre a kid. I was just wondering whose.
Gerards, Ky said. When he still looked blank, she added, Gerard Avondetta Vatta . . .
Oh . . . old Moneybags Gerry. He gave a harsh snort of laughter. Gods, girl, you dont look anything like Gerry. Luckily.
Very few people, most of them now dead, had called her father Gerry . And she didnt like his laugh.
Dont look at me like that, he said, sobering. I didnt mean to make fun of him, but . . . he always was a bit stuffy. So, he sent you out to straighten out this mess, eh?
Mess? Ky said. Something was very wrong, but she couldnt figure out what.
This whole thing with the banks, Osman said. Credit and all. I mean, he is chief high financial muckety-muck, so it makes sense that you being his daughter
He didnt know. He didnt know or he was a far better faker than she thought he was. Thats the ansibles, Ky said. When ISC gets them back up
Not what my fella back on Harmon told me. Said someone was going after Vatta, and our credit was shot.
Did your fella describe what going after meant?
Said someone had taken potshots at Vatta ships. Made me nervous, that did. Nervous was not the word Ky would have chosen to describe his expression. Tense. Alert. But nervous?
She should tell him, but she was reluctant and didnt understand why.
Look, as youre old Gerrys kiddaughter, I meanyou can clear up the financial end, cant you? Talk to the bankers and such? I have a load of cargo, good stuff, too
Where was it bound? What route are you on?
His gaze wavered. Um . . . well, you know, Im kind of independent. Experience . . . family connections . . .
Been a while since you came in for refit, hasnt it? Ky said, forcing sympathy into her tone.
Oh, the ships fine. No problems there. Its just . . . I cant draw on company funds, they tell me, on account of whatever this mess is.
Stranger and stranger. Not all Vatta captains were on fixed routes, but most of them were: profit lay in reliability. Senior captains vied for the most profitable routes, wanted the least variance in their schedules. And while this man looked like a Vatta, they werent the only family in the known universe with those features, that coloring. He had shown some knowledge of her family, but only what an outsider could have picked up from public sources. He had cargo . . . he could sell the cargo, set up a ship account . . . shed done that.
Ky touched the control requesting an emergency interruption. Almost immediately, a red light flashed on her board, winking urgently.
She looked down, then back up at the com screen. Excuse me, Ive got a problem hereIll be right back. She cut the connection, and opened the internal com. Anyone get anything on this one?
Stella spoke up. The ships on a list from ten, fifteen years back as active, but on current lists as an adjunct.
Which is?
Im not sure. It might be undercover work or something. I was on an adjunct payroll for a year or so. Osman . . . Im fairly sure he must be Lazlo Vattas grandson, though theres another Osman . . . how old do you think he is? Apparent age, or was that a disguise?
Voice analysis suggests sixties, Rafe spoke up. Theres that little burrof course, he could be a heavy drinker or addicted to something thats aged his voice.
Thatd be Lazlos grandson. Hes not on the current captain list, Ky, Stella said. I cant get into the old personnel stuffits in the command dataset. The one you didnt install was unsaid but clearly communicated.
A Vatta remittance man, Rafe said in smug tone that made Ky want to hit him. Skeleton in the Vatta cupboard.
So . . . whys he in a Vatta ship? Ky asked.
Adjunct, Rafe said. They let him take a ship, but hes not authorized refit, and Ill bet hes not authorized access to company funds, except his remittance. He sounds like a con man to me. Hes trying one onhe knows headquarters is down, he doesnt know we have a command dataset.
Martin said, I dont like the whole setup. He sounds too glib, and I find it hard to believe his crew didnt pick us up on scan a long time ago. We havent tested the defensive suite against concealed weaponry; the mercs werent trying to hide theirs.
Quincy, Ky said. The senior Engineering watch were all below, by Martins plan. When the old woman answered, she said, Did you ever hear of an Osman Vatta? Related to old Lazlo?
Quincys gasp was clearly audible. That bastard? Whats he done now?
Well, he claims to be captain of Fair Kaleen, which right now is matching courses about a hundred klicks away. I gather you know something about him?
Rotten little devil, Quincy said. Smooth as an egg, and no morals at all. Fools you because hes not overtly mean, but he doesnt care for anything but himself and doesnt see why anyone would.
Our defensive suite says hes unarmed, Ky said. I dont see he can do us any great harm
Dont bet on it, Quincy said. If hes here and talking to you, then he sees a profit to himself in it. Figure that out and however slimy it seems . . . thats what hes up to.
Here in the middle of nowhere, Ky mused. What is he doing here anyway? Just randomly jumping from one unoccupied system to another? Hes a long way from any regular Vatta route.
Trouble, Quincy said. Hes trouble, through and through.
Quincewhat did he do? Any specifics?
Well. I was only aboard a ship with him once. Hed gotten in a fairly serious scrape his apprentice voyagegambling debts he tried to cover with the ships account. His fatherLazlos son, Benalj that would have beenhauled him home and supposedly straightened him out. He was in his twenties when I ran into him again. I was engineering second that voyage, pulled off my regular ship because their first was injured. He was third in command; I heard scuttlebutt that he was under some suspicion of having done something earlier in the trip. But he was a Vatta; the idea was to straighten him out. Well . . . among other things he liked pretty faces, didnt matter what gender, and he was putting moves on an Engineering junior. I told him off for it, and he tried to bribe me.
Bribe you ! Ky could not imagine that.
Oh, yes, Quincy said. I wasnt a gray-haired great-granny back then. He didnt fancy me, I dont think, but he was willing to try, if it would shut me up. It didnt. He tried to get me fired for insubordination; the captain wouldnt hear of it, and I watched my back very carefully the rest of the voyage. Good thing, too, as there were several accidents that couldve been fatal. His father died young.
So . . . The knot in Kys stomach tightened. It may not be an accident that hes here, or that he wants to travel with us.
I dont see how he could have figured out where wed be, Quincy said. That much could be accidental . . . She didnt sound as if she believed it.
Jump options from Lastway . . . how many were there? Stella asked.
Its not that. Kys mind raced, throwing up an image of their route since leaving Lastway. If they have those shipboard ansibles Rafe mentioned, and theyve tracked us by the restored ansible functions, then here is the next logical place for us to go. Another node in the web, a mostly uninhabited system with multiple jump points.
Couldnt we intercept their communications?
No more than with any ansible, Rafe said. And thank you for sharing that little secret with everyone, Captain.
You undoubtedly have others I dont even know, Ky said. And that one, if its operational, isnt going to be secret for long. Once others realize that the only way for certain things to happen is ship-mounted instant communications, theyll deduce its existence.
I suppose. I still think
Think it later. The question is, what do we do now? If I refuse to talk to him again, hell know we know somethings wrong.
Wouldnt you? Hell expect you to have an implant. Surely that would tell you hes not on the main list.
I guess he cant tell I dont . . . A germ of an idea sprouted. She went back to the exterior com. Sorry, she said to Osman. Weve got this pet someone brought aboard, and it keeps getting into trouble.
A pet? You let your crew have pets? The tone carried the implication that only young, inexperienced, sentimental captains allowed pets aboard.
Special case, Ky said. She could feel her neck getting hot. But back to your problem . . . what do you understand is going on?
I dont know, he said. Frankly, Ive been out on my own, pretty far out, not paying much attention to whats going on back home. But it sounded like trouble, so I came back to see what I could do . . .
To help or scavenge? That was the question. Quincys story was probably true, if this was the same man, but twenty years and more had tamed many a wild boy, her father always said. We dont blame people for who they were, if they act well now, her mother had insisted. She wondered what Rafe would be like in twenty years and pushed that thought away.
Its pretty bad, Ky said. Hard to tell with the ansibles down, but it looks like someone has it in for Vatta.
Heard anything about your family?
Theyre dead, Ky said flatly.
A moments shocked stillness, then his face creased into a scowl. Thats . . . thats monstrous, he said. You poor kidI mean, youre not a kid, I can see that, but still. Poor old Gerry dead . . . howd they get him? He wasnt on a ship, was he?
No. Ky felt again that reluctance to reveal details, at least yet. I wasnt there; I only heard theyd died. If the ansibles come back up
I cant believe it, he said. His gaze was direct, his expression exactly what it should be. So why this reluctance? Just Quincys belief? That wasnt fair. Look, he said with sudden determination, I can help. Let me help. Either of us alone, were just a single ship, easy to ambush. But the two of usI dont mind telling you, Ive rambled around in some pretty rough places. This old ship isnt the worn-out hulk she looks like. We could help each other a lot. Family sticks together, eh? Blood thicker than water, all that.
Sincerity flowed out of him like water out of a spring. Ky could not believe he was anything but a rogue coming around . . . except for the bitter memory of another sincere, pleading voice, Mandy Rocher and his problem that had become her disgrace.
I cant figure out why, Ky said, talking just to keep the talk going, trying to think behind the chatter. Why would someoneanyonetake after Vatta Transport? Weve got a better record of service than, say, Pavrati.
Oh, lass. Were rich, thats why. The rich are always a target
Not that rich, Ky said. I can imagine an envious minor shipping firm resenting us, but it would hardly have the resources to attack us so widely.
Well, no, he said. But this attack on the ansibles . . . Vattas always supported ISCs monopoly on ansible services. Could be its our allies got us in trouble. Or it could be part of the humod base-stock controversy.
What? Was this just a distraction, thrown out to make her lose track of his argument?
Theres growing friction, you know, between the base-stock worlds that want to preserve what they call human nature, and the humods. From the base-stock point of view, were all humods because we have implants. Makes us mech deviants. I dont suppose youve run into many base-stockers.
Only the Miznarii, Ky said. Back home.
Good grief, are they still around? He sounded genuinely surprised. Id have thought theyd died out long ago; went in for natural childbirth, I thought it was. I meant places like Allgreen and Puritytheyre not on regular Vatta routes, but Ive traded there. Took me for a criminal, they did, at first. No one has cranial implants, not even fertility mods. One of my old crew was a four-arm, genetic, and Immigration Control wouldnt even let him off the ship at the station. Youd have thought hed been able to spit sperm straight into their precious daughterssorry, did that shock you?
She had to do better with her face. Im shocked that anyone would refuse entry to someone just because they had four arms, she said. Would he believe that?
Oh, good, he said. I remember Gerry was something of a prude and I should have thought before saying anything, but Im glad youre old enough not to flinch at a little physical reality. His laugh grated. Ky smiled, but followed him into this side topic as if really interested.
So, do the people on Purity avoid all medical care?
No, but theyre strict about its limits. No genetic modifications, and no modifications that enhance normal human ability beyond a half sig above the mean. Of course that means their mean intelligence is well below that of most of us, but they get along reasonably well on their own world.
Are they Miznarii?
No, no. Theyre evangelical Hurists, whatever that is. Doesnt help them any in business dealings, I can tell you that. He laughed again, with a wink that invited Ky into his scam, whatever it was. She wanted to wipe the screen, but knew better. Its the weirdest combination of paranoia and gullibility youve ever seen. Theyre terrified of some outsider cheating them, but they make it so obvious what theyre afraid of that its easy to make whatever profit you want by just doing something else and pretending fear of their suspicion.
So the rogue hadnt reformed. So you prefer humod planets?
Well, not the extremes. Its like some of them make themselves ugly on purpose, yknow? But a lot of em are just like real people, only with extra. Pretty much think like us. He peered at the screen. You do have an implant, right?
Of course, Ky said, as if offended. Got it at seven, like everyone else.
So you have a current Vatta update? Because I havent updated in a while, been out of touch ysee.
Not really current, Ky said. I was on my way back, actually. He couldnt know anything different, unless he was as bent as she suspected, and then it didnt matter. As you probably guessed, this was my first trip, so Im just a probationary captain, as it were. Only the most basic dataset. When I got home, I was going to get the full one, butthings happened.
I see. He looked down a moment then suddenly back up, with a sharp glance that seemed intended to startle. Then his face softened again. Well, we shall do well enough, I guess. Youth and enthusiasm, age and experience . . . well be partners, shall we?
But we are already family, Ky said, as if puzzled. She had been half expecting this offer, or demand. Isnt it forbidden to make private contracts of partnership within Vatta?
His brows went up. What, you think I want to cheat you?
No, not that. Worse than that, but she had had four yearsalmost four yearsin which to learn that earnest and tedious explanation of well-known rules had its uses. But Dad said nobody should make private contracts because we should all be working for the benefit of Vatta as a whole. Private deals, he said, were like stealing from the company. And I want to save Vatta.
Now his expression shifted to benign amusement. I forgot, he said. You are Gerrys daughter; of course you would be a stickler for all the rules. But my dear, this is an extraordinary situation. We may be the only surviving Vattasor do you know of others?
Ky felt a chill roll down her back. She was not about to reveal the existence of Stella or Toby. Youre the first Vatta ship Ive met since this happened, she said.
And I suppose, for your first voyage, they stuffed the ship with faithful old retainers rather than family members, eh? he asked.
Pretty much, Ky said. I hired a couple myself along the way.
So, under the circumstances, we should cooperate and be partnersfine, if you dont want to enter a formal partnership, I understand that, given your fatherbut we can do better together than either of us alone.
That was true, if partners were true to their defined mutual goal. Otherwise, one could gut the other even more neatly than a stranger. Ky was tempted to refuse and depart, trusting her new defensive suite to handle anything he was likely to have aboard, but what if he knew more about the conspiracy and the attacks on Vatta than hed yet revealed?
Where are you going next? Ky asked, deliberately furrowing her brow. I dont know if we can
Look, he said, exuding a fatherly concern that bordered on sickening. Ill go with you, wherever you go; I can help keep you safe. He paused for her reaction; apparently she had not hidden it well enough. Im sure youre brave and resourceful; Vatta doesnt breed idiots or cowards. But you need someone to watch your back. I wont even pull seniority. Onscreen he shrugged, spreading his hands. Youre Gerrys daughter; he was our CFO. You can take over, if you want. I just dont want to see us die out because we couldnt work together for mutual profit.
He wanted her more than she wanted him. Why? And how had he known that her father was Vatta Ltd.s CFO, if hed been gone so many years? Unless he was legitimate in some covert way, as Rafe claimed to be with ISC.
I suppose, Ky said. Lookwhy dont you send me your cargo info, and Ill compare it with what weve got and decide where to go next.
We share, he said. You send me yours, too.
Fine, Ky said. Ill get my cargomaster to port it over for you. He would learn nothing from their cargo list except that theyd bought low and hoped to sell high. He would certainly not learn about the mines she had aboard, either kind.
       
       
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
He thinks Ive got a probationary captains implant, with incomplete datanothing he needs to upload to his implant, for instance. Ky sipped a mug of nutrient-boosted tea while she waited for Osman to send her his cargo list.
Id be a lot happier if you had an implant at all, Martin said. And the Vatta command set would give you everything you need.
Certainly would make my head an attractive target, wouldnt it? Ky said. If he thinks Im ignorant, inexperienced, idealistic, and rule-bound, Im the perfect front person for him. A dupe he can enjoy duping for a long time before he finds it convenient to kill me.
You do realize hell try. It was not a question in tone, only in Martins expression.
Of course, Ky said. I dont expect anything less. But he will find me tougher to kill once hes thoroughly convinced how simple it will be.
You continue to surprise me, Rafe murmured.
Good, Ky said. Since youre the best model I have for how Osman Vatta thinkshes supposedly got a history rather like yours.
He blinked at her. You really think Im that bad? I swear, I never put pressure on the unwilling to have sex.
Stella shifted in her seat. He looked sideways at her.
I havent forgotten that lime, Ky said. The others looked at her oddly; Rafe ducked his head.
That was only . . . an invitation. Not pressure.
Quite true, Ky said. And if I thought you were that bad you would not be alive on this ship.
I shall watch my step, he said, with a demureness that lay uneasily, like thin silk over a steel blade.
Nonetheless, Ky said. Rafe is my only current contact with the kind of life we think Osmans been leading. So when I try out ideas on him, his reaction may help me predict Osmans.
As long as you dont get us confused, Rafe said.
I assure you, Ky said, I can keep you separate in my mind, even without an implant.
Suddenly Rafes eyes opened wide. KyCaptaincall the mercs. Now.
What? Why?
Just do it, he said. No longer languid, he sat upright, alert.
Our whole plan is to let him think were alone, harmless, helpless, in this system. If I call
If you dont call, Rafe said, you wont have the chance. He has an ansible on that ship. Hes one of them.
How do you know? And why now?
I know, Rafe said through clenched teeth. Dont ask moreI know. Hes not just Vattas rotten egg; hes deeply involved, and hes using his shipboard ansible to call in your enemies.
I think he wants to toy with me longer, Ky said. And I still want to know how
For the time it takes them to get here, maybe. Then hell betray you, and there wont be time for talk. How far away are the mercs?
Next ansible over, I hope, Ky said. But how do you know hes got one?
Captain . . . lets go to your cabin.
What?
I need to speak to you privately, Rafe said. He was still tense, pale, his eyes locked on hers.
If you must, Ky said. She looked at the others. Call me if anything changes. Make sure everythings ready.
Always, Quincy said.
Ky led the way to her cabin; Rafe followed her and shut the hatch without asking her.
What is this about? Ky asked. Youre
Just listen, Rafe said. Itheres another new tech I didnt tell you about.
You have a shipboard ansible of your own? she said. Or some way to detect ansible activity?
He tapped his head. I have one here. Miniaturized, implantable. The power systems not adequate, so I need to hook into an exterior power source or link to an existing, working ansible.
Ky blinked. You have an ansible in your head ?
Yes. Small, underpowered, but nonetheless workable. Experimental tech, of course. So far as I know the only working model; I got it direct from the lab. You must not tell anyone . . .
I wont, Ky said. She was still fascinated. So thats how you know he has a shipboard one? How do you know he doesnt have an implant like you?
They smell different, Rafe said. At her expression he sighed, shook his head. They had to hook up a lot of weird connections to make it work at all. Humans have a lot of olfactory receptors we dont really use, apparently tied to the biochemistry of the planet we originated on; they tied the detector function to that. Its supposed to let me know when Im in range and could tap power from an ansible, but my brain insists on giving me smells.
I hope theyre pleasant, Ky said. She could not help staring at his skull, every angle she could see. It could not be possible to fit an ansible in there; most of the ones shed seenthe outsides anywaywere the size of a small ship.
Memorableis the word Id choose, Rafe said. Whatever on our home planet smelled like that must not have been good for us. At any rate, I know he has a shipboard ansible and that hes just activated it. Now will you please call the mercs on the system ansible before he blows it or something?
You think hed blow it?
He wouldnt want you calling for help, now would he?
I wonder why he doesnt just use the system ansible, now that weve got it unplugged.
Because he knows wed notice that, and he thinks his shipboard ansible cant be detected. That alone should tell you hes up to no good.
Oh. Right.
On the bridge, Ky began the setup for an ansible connection and turned on the shipwide intercom. We have a situation, she said. Quincy, bring the defensive suite active. Our friend over there is contacting someone, we dont know who. Probably not someone we want to know. The ansible connection winked green, and she entered the Mackensee codes shed been given. The lightlag to the system ansible seemed interminable; she watched the chronometer ticking off the seconds . . . outbound signal . . . inbound signal . . .
Trouble, Captain Vatta? Johannson mustve been sitting beside the com shack. Ky had never appreciated instantaneous communication so much.
Possibly, Ky said. The ship was Vatta, and the captain . . . a Vatta troublemaker, apparently. Its not a threat, but hes just made an ansible call.
Can your agent strip it?
No.
Advise you go to max power and head for jump point, Johannson said.
Right into whoevers coming in? Ky asked. And our insystems slow, if you recall.
The idea is that they blow by you while theyre still having downjump turbulence fouling their scans. Shortens your vulnerability, though there is a risk. As I said before.
And you?
We do have responsibilities to the rest of the convoy, Johannson said. But Ill see what I can do.
Was he really going to leave them hanging out here alone? Or had that been a message designed to confuse an eavesdropper? Ky hoped it was the latter, but he certainly wasnt going to share his plans over an open ansible connection. That made sense, but it didnt make Ky happy. She looked at Lee, whose expression was more alert than anxious.
You heard the man, she said. Aim us at the jump point, and pour on the power. Not emergency maxwe cant outrun much of anything, but we can open distance.
She called back to Fair Kaleen . Ah . . . were outbound, and Ive decided on a destination,
Wait a minute . . . thats sudden. What happened?
It was what you said about the humod issue. It just occurred to me that the right market for a third of my cargo is one of the humod worlds. Look at the list. With the ansible here working again, I was able to get a little market datawere off for Garth. Coming?
But waitgirlI mean, Captain, sorryyou dont want to go to Garth
I dont? Why?
Well, just slow down there and well talk about it. You dont just make decisions on the first bit of info you get off a public board. How do you know its accurate?
Look, Ky said, finding it easy to simulate impatience. We hung around in this system a lot longer than we meant to, waiting for you to match courses and then chatting. No disrespect to an elder Vatta, but if were going to rebuild the company, we cant do it by sitting out here telling family stories. We need to be trading. I may be young and ignorant, but I know that much.
Of course we need to be trading, Osman said. But rushing into things can get you in worse trouble. How do you know the folks after Vatta wont be waiting for you in Garth?
Because theyre on the way herewas on the tip of Kys tongue, but she said instead, I dont. But the only way to find out is to go there. I have some specialized electronics that will suit their humod market . . . just lying around, they were, and I got them at a good price.
But
So are you coming, or shall we meet later somewhere else? She had half an eye on the ships nearscan, which showed the range between them widening more slowly than shed like.
Ill . . . Ill have to get my insystem drive up. Ill follow you.
Fine, Ky said, and flicked off the link.
Hed track her vector and report it, though if the allies hed called were already in jump, it wouldnt help them. Rafe, she said.
Yes. He was close behind her.
Is there any way at all that ships can communicate between each other while in FTL space?
No. Not that I know of, anyway. The advanced tech on the pin ansibles allows a ship in FTL to contact a fixed ansible platform, thats all.
Good. She flicked on the shipwide com and explained the situation. What were doing is running for the jump point. As soon as we can jump safely, we will. We dont know where Osmans allies are, or how fast they can get here. We are fairly sure he has no weapons capable of damaging us, so were not in immediate danger.
What if they get here before we can jump? Lee asked. Were at least eighteen hours from the jump point. Are the mercs coming?
The mercs are not telling me or anyone else what they plan to do, but Im hoping theyre on their way. Well deal with the other if it happens.
Why did you even go talk to that old idiot? Jim asked. He must have been near the Engineering com station. Wouldnt it have been smarter to ignore him, like the mercs said?
Jim! Quincy muttered.
The only way to find out if he was legitimate or not was to talk to him, Ky said. They were all probably thinking the same thing, but lacked Jims brashness.
But Quincy told you shifts ago. And she told us about him
Jim! Ky could imagine Quincy trying to push Jim aside and shut him up.
I just dont get it. We couldve been halfway to somewhere else by now
Kys temper boiled over. You could be all the way to somewhere else in about two minutes . . . theres an air lock. Silence, complete, throughout the ship.
M sorry, Jim muttered finally.
Good, Ky said. Whether I made a mistake or not by talking to Osman will be clear in a day or so. In the meantime, we can increase our chances of survival by anticipating the bad guys and thinking of ways to make their task harder.
We could put out a message on the ansible, Rafe said. Weve cleared several along our back route . . . it will go somewhere, even if it isnt picked up for a while. All stations, all recipients. Tell them about dear old Uncle Osman . . . or Cousin Osman, or whatever he is.
Good idea, Ky said. You draft the message, then let me see it before you send it.
Do we have any ship weapons? Rafe asked.
Not offensive weapons. Or rather, we have the popgun equivalent that all the ships carry now. It wouldnt penetrate his ship.
He may or may not know that.
Hes boosting, Lee said. But hes not going to keep up with us.
He wants a safe distance, Ky said, thinking aloud. Hes got the power to overtake us, but he wont. His scan trace will point to us but keep him out of trouble. Which meant he was expecting help, though she didnt say that.
He thinks, Rafe said. Ky glanced at him. His expression was feral.
Arent you supposed to be drafting that letter?
I have; Ive forwarded it to your desk.
Ky managed not to snarl. Of course, he had an implant. He could do that while she was limited to indirect input. If only shed been near a real clinic where they could test and see if it was safe to put an implant in, she could have had the basic module. Dont be smug, she said. You and your implant. She opened the file on her desk. The letter looked perfectly straightforward; she hoped it was. She opened a query link to the system ansible . . . almost two minutes to contact.
Youre close to that six months you mentioned, Rafe said. You could put one in now.
No med tech, Ky said, watching the winking light that indicated the message was en route to the ansible. She wasnt about to wait for confirmation that the ansible was ready to receive.
True, but its possible to put them in without. I have. Changing implants is sometimes very useful.
Risky.
Not really. You can get a headache, and you can be disoriented for a few hours. I try to do it overnightlie down, pull one, and insert the other. You do have to know sterile technique.
Which I dont, Ky said. So Ill wait, thank you.
I do know sterile technique, Rafe said. If it would improve our chances of survival, Id be glad to help.
He would be glad to get his hands on the Vatta command database, however briefly. She could only deal with one trickster at a time, and Osman was the immediate threat. I think not, Ky said. It cant make this ship faster or add weaponry. For plain maneuver, the brain I have will work just fine. She hoped. A command implant would give her faster control of ship systems; it might even work with Fair Kaleens systems . . .
Glad to hear it, Rafe said. Is there any other assistance I can offer?
Dont know yet, Ky said. Ill let you know if I think of something. She turned to Lee. Do you know the nearest mapped jump point?
Its the one the mercs went to. Theres another, a half point farther.
So . . . the mercs should get here first. Maybe.
If the bad ones didnt use an unmapped point. If they were just offscan, they could do a short jump in and be here in a few hours. We have enhanced scan, but the range is still well under system radius.
Any idea what vector they might use?
No, why?
Diversions, Ky said. The one thing that even defensive shields have trouble with is random mass.
Rafe snorted. What, youre going to throw out some cargo?
You might call it that, Ky said. If you consider mines cargo.
Mines?
Youre familiar with the concept? She could not keep all the sarcasm out of her voice.
Yes. I just didnt know you had any, and you said you didnt have weapons.
Didnt have offensive weapons. I have some mines. Not many, and maybe not enough. Well see.
When will you drop them?
When I see the whites of their eyes, Ky said. At his expression, she had to laugh. When I know what vector theyre coming in on, she said. Or if Cousin Osman gives us any trouble in the meantime. I hate to waste a Vatta hull
You surely dont think you can get it back!
If I can, I intend to, Ky said. Vatta Transport needs hulls. Weve lost several that I know of, not to mention the capital investment in our headquarters. We make money by trade; it takes hulls to haul cargo. SoCousin Osmans hull belongs, by rights, to Vatta. To me, if it comes to that.
Rafe stared. Youre either crazy or brilliant, Im not sure which.
Neither am I, Ky said. Time will tell.
You seem amazingly calm about this. Are you scared at all?
Ky wondered if there was any way to explain, and decided it was a lost cause. Not excessively, she said instead.
Fair Kaleenhad increased her boost. On the ship-to-ship, a light blinked. Osman wanted to talk again. Ky didnt. Anyone with a shipboard ansible had to be part of the conspiracy.
There they are, Lee and Rafe said together. On the enhanced longscan, two tiny dots. Ky reached over and flicked a button. Both turned red. She spared a moment of thankfulness that the defensive suites designer had included a remote weapons detection function, and that shed opted for the more expensive version.
Weapons hot, Ky said. They must be expecting trouble.
Or a quick easy kill, Rafe said. Do you want me to plot their course, so Lee can concentrate on piloting?
You know how? It didnt surprise her. Interstellar navigation, in its simplest form, was a matter of looking up tables of figures and inserting them in the navigational computer. And having Rafe on navigation would be better than Sherylcompetent though she was, Sheryl was better off not on the bridge right now.
Yes. Rafe grinned. I can still surprise you, too, Captain. Anyway, if you have a way to use those mines, I want you to be free of all distraction while you do it.
The enemy shipsshe presumed they were enemy, since they had not contacted herhad emerged from jump at high velocity, and were braking only slightly. Ky interpreted this to mean that they were getting data on her directly, and instantly, from Osman on Fair Kaleen . She looked at their own trace. The old ship could not accelerate any faster, and she had to conserve fuel for maneuvering.
Lee, cut her back. We want to look like innocents heading for the jump point. Im going to have a little chat with Osman and see what he tells me.
When she clicked the com back on, she started talking as soon as Osmans face appeared, with the wavery edge characteristic of diverging signal sources.
Well, Cousin, are you coming? Ky asked. I have the feeling its not healthy to stay in one place too long.
Who would hang around in a deserted system like this?
So he was going to try to keep her ignorant . . . surely he had noticed trouble on the scans. Looks like a fine quiet place for raiders or pirates to me, Cousin, she said cheerily. Surely they have rendezvous points far from heavily traveled routes.
How would anyone know we were here?
Oh, I dont know. Blind luck maybe. Wait She pretended to look away. Imagine that. I have two blips on my screen . . . what do you have?
Blipsoh . . . those. Those are . . . friends of mine, you might say. Its why I dont have to worry about raiders.
The slightest emphasis on I, the slightest smugness in the tone. Dont worry, Kylara, honey, well take good care of you.
Will you? Ky asked, in the mildest tone she could manage. On the scan, the two ships closed distance steadily. It looked as if they had tracked and analyzed her course and were planning to intercept to killing distance. You didnt mention your friends before, Cousin. Who are they?
My dear, you really do not need to know. Its better if you dont. In case He paused. She could fill in that blank easily: in case she escaped to tell the tale.
The ansible status light went from steady green to red. So they had blocked the ansible again.
Told you, Rafe said softly, just out of pickup range.
And now the ansibles not working, Ky said to Osman. He shrugged.
These automated ansibles arent as reliable, Ive learned over the years. Were you trying to send a message?
Thinking of it, Ky said. I guess Ill have to wait until we get to the next one.
A stupid exchange; surely he had detected her transmission to the ansible and surely he knew it had succeeded. But in following his misdirection, she might learn something useful.
Your friends are coming in very fast, Ky said. If you hadnt told me they were your friends, Id worry about an attack. They were coming in spread formation, perfect for attacking a single ship and preventing its escape by any sudden maneuver. Not that her ship was capable of much evasive action.
Theyll take care of us both, Osman said. In their way.
His smile no longer looked open and benign; it had a predatory edge to it. Ky considered the scan before answering. If those were military ships, with high-performance drivesand surely they were at least equivalentthey would be in range for beam weapons within six hours. Was it Osmans job to keep her calm and ignorant until then, loafing along on a course that made interception and attack easy? Had he done this before, setting up innocent traders for pirate attacks? Had he been involved in the Sabine thing, one of Paisons allies? And what would he do when he found that her shields held against them?
She smiled into the screen and saw Osmans expression stiffen before his mouth widened again. Im so glad youre here, Ky said. It means a lot to me to have a senior Vatta captains advice.
My advice? I still say you shouldnt hurry off to Garth, he said. Let us escort you, at least. A convoy would be safer.
You wont have any trouble catching up with us. As you can tell, we have that old-fashioned slow insystem drive. Im sure you have better.
Well, yes, but . . . you young people are always in such a hurry. Take it from me, haste in dangerous situations can be fatal.
So can sitting around waiting to be shot, Ky said. Look here, Cousin, Im glad to have your protection and your company, but Im not going to take your orders.
You are definitely Gerrys child, Osman said. Too bad . . .
Too bad? Kys stomach lurched. Here it came, whatever it was.
I might have found a use for you, Osman said in a tone of such fake geniality and regret that Ky wanted to gag. After all, a daughter of the great Gerard Avondetta Vatta . . . niece to Stavros, the Vatta CEO . . . you might have been very useful. But His expression hardened. but you are just an arrogant spoiled bitch, fit child to the man who cost me my proper life, the life I should have had as a senior Vatta captain.
He couldnt resist boasting. She had read that about certain kinds of criminals, but she had never seen it.
Your father and uncle, the pair of them: stuck-up arrogant prigs that they were, they used methey ruined mejust to get a step up the corporate ladder. As if they never did anything wrong. As if a Vatta heir werent worth twice what some sniveling Engineering apprentice was . . . stupid slut, I gave her a necklace. The veins bulged on his forehead, she noticed; the old rage still consumed him. And now, princess Kylara, Gerrys precious daughter, Im going to destroy you . I only wish Gerry were here to see it in the moments before I blew him away.
Im so sorry to disoblige you, Ky said. Her heart was racing; she hoped he would interpret it as fear. But I prefer not to be blown away.
Prissy-mouth! What you prefer doesnt matter . . . you have nothing on that ship to defend yourself with, nothing. Oh, I know you bought a defensive suite at Lastwaywe got word of that, no fear. But its not worth a minim on a credit, because we have a deal with MilMart: they sell only worthless junk to Vatta, and we dont destroy them.
Ky stiffened her face, but too late; he leered at her. AhI see you hadnt discovered the flaw yet. You will, about the time your ship comes apart around you. Or . . . I have a better idea. If youre the honorable sort, like old Gerry, and want to save your crewor some of themyou can always cut your drive and surrender. Ill wager theyd rather live than die, and while I wont promise to make your life pleasant, I have no quarrel with unrelated crew. Unless of course some of them were involved in my embarrassment. He chuckled. Go ask them, why dont you? I can wait.
Ky cut the connection. Lee stared at her, wide-eyed but silent; Rafe showed no emotion but the pulse beating in his neck.
That was interesting, Ky said. Her mouth was dry; her voice not as steady as she wished. So hes got a grudge against Vatta because my father threw him out. And hes sure our defensive suite wont work. I wonder if thats even true. I cant imagine that MilMarts stayed in business if theyre that easy to bribe.
Captain That was Quincy, on the ships intercom. We have a problem.
Whats that? Ky asked. Her voice sounded normal again.
Well . . . I didnt spot this at first, but theres a problem in the defensive suitenot in the scan components, but in the shields.
I wonder why the Mackensee scan didnt pick it up, Ky said. They had us arm it and said it looked solid.
Yes. I know. I thought that meant it was working, too. But Toby was bored having to watch that miserable pup, and I gave him a stack of instruction cubes to keep him occupied. He went looking for that missing component we replaced from stock, found it, and then thought there was something odd about it. He says its not what the manual calls for, and the shields will go on all right but not actually protect against a strong hit.
Can it be made to work?
Yes, if we have time. Hours. The hardware is mostly okay; the software could be, but the installation instructions we were given were wrong. We need to uninstall the software, replace the nonstandard components of the hardware, then reinstall. Seven hours, probably. I know it took longer last time, but then we were unfamiliar with the equipment.
A voice in the background. Not now, Toby, Quincy said, half into the intercom.
But
Not now, Quincy said. Then into the intercom. Im thinking at least seven hours.
They didnt have seven hours. Not now. Ky tried to think. Shieldless, they were easy prey, as easy as they looked.
Quincy, where are the other crates from Mackensee, the ones labeledMODEL 87-TR-5003 ?
Number one hold. Why?
Because we need them, and we need them now. And the ones I called the odor barriers. Get em out, unpack em, and call me when you have them laid out on the deck.
Let me tell her . . . came faintly from the intercom. Toby, of course. Pity for the child who had lost all in his ship at Allway and was probably going to be dead in a few hours gave her patience.
Let him talk, Quincy, Ky said. Go on, Toby.
It wont take that long, Toby said. I was going to tell Quincy, but she called you right away. I located the places where the component needs changing and pre-positioned everything. I wouldnt do it without asking, Captain. I know that would be wrong, but I thoughtI thought it would be all right to do that much.
Good for you, Ky said. Would it shave the time enough? Is Jim down there? And Rafehell come down and help. You can show them where all the points are? Martin, too, but she might need his help with the mines.
Yes, Captain. Some of them are kind of hard to get to
But you can wiggle in. Fine. Quincy
Yes That from a different station, obviously.
Tobys done part of the work already, he says. Located all the ones that need changing and put out the components needed. Time saved?
Maybe an hour, maybe more, Quincy said. Youre trusting a fourteen-year-old kid?
Quincyits that or nothing. We dont have seven hours; we might have five and a half. He found the problem; he went partway to solving it. I have to go with him.
Right. Im pulling your crates now
And Im sending Rafe down to do the software changes. Give Toby whoevers free and let him lead them to the locations.
Rafe had already left when she turned around. Lack of initiative wasnt his problem, either. Lee, you have the bridge; Ive got to go check out those mines myself. I bought the kind we studied in the Academy; if theyre glitched I know how to fix them. She hoped. If it was something simple like an unattached connection. The other mines, the ones MacRobert had sent, were more specialized.
Stella was waiting between the bridge and the recreation area. How bad is it, and what can I do?
Very bad, and if youve got the expertise with software, you can go down to Engineering and help Rafe.
Osman?
A grudge against our parents. I wonder if hes the real reason Vattas under attackthough his grudge sounds very personal. He could have hit Vatta without involving ISC. But he wants our parents children in particular. He doesnt know youre here, or Toby. And wont. Come onI have to go check out something.
       
       
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The row of mines looked eerily like those laid out on the deck of her Academy class on defensive ordnance maintenance procedures. Then there had been only fifteen, one per study group of four, and those had been unarmed. Were these the same, only deadly? Or were they as useless as Osman said the defensive suite was? The bulbous forward end, with its navigational circuitry, and the plump cylinder holding the explosives behindeach, she was relieved to note, with the proper plastic guard inserted to prevent accidental detonationthe knurled section that could be unscrewed to allow a variety of propulsive and attitude adjustment components, depending on need. These came with the basics only: self-contained reaction engine and simplest of the attitude adjustment components. Ky had not been able to afford the extras. Still, a rock could destroy a spaceship if the product of mass and acceleration came to enough force; her instructors had been clear about that.
Martin, how familiar are you with these things?
He shook his head. Sorry, maam, but its been years since I armed or disarmed one. I know what they are, but ordnance wasnt ever my specialty.
That was a disappointment. Youd better go help reinstall the defensive suite, then, she said. Ill work on these.
Ky loaded the instruction tab into her hand display, and was reassured to find that what she thought she should do first was in fact what she should do first. She pulled out the bundle of safety cords that had come in theCOMMAND PACKET carton, freed one, and slipped its magnetic clip into a slot on the detonation control panel before removing the plastic guard that had served the same function. Now that mine couldnt detonate, no matter what mistakes she made during the examination and programming. She red-corded all of them first, then opened the navigational compartment of the first. Another glance at the instruction manual refreshed her memory; the mines innards still looked familiar, and all the parts that should be there, were . . . A purple-coated wire caught her eye. It should have been attached . . . there. She clipped it in place, and opened the next control panel. The same purple-coated wire to reattach. Very simple sabotage, easy to fix if you were looking for something wrong. Did that mean she was missing something subtler? She hoped not. She didnt have time to disassemble each completely. Another look at the instruction manual. Attitude adjusters, main engine controls, each with one disabling wrong connection. She glanced at the chronometer. Ten minutes gone. Ten times twenty-one was two hundred ten minutes. Too longshe had to move faster. But carefully.
And how was she going to place them without Osman or his allies noticing? All very well to place what amounted to explosive rocks in the enemys path, but that required accuracy. If their drives were on, theyd be detected, could be avoided. She didnt have enough to create a broad barrier behind the ship. She needed a way to get them away from her ship that Osman couldnt detect . . .
She had four of them done when Lee called down from the bridge. Hes hailing us again.
He can wait, Ky said.
Hes offering the crew their lives if we overpower you, and a reward if we deliver you alive.
So are you going to take it? Ky asked.
Lee snorted. Not me, Captain. I dont believe him.
You dont have to tell him that, Ky said. If he thinks hes got a taker, he might tell his friends to hold their fire.
I thought of that, but I didnt want to do it without asking.
Do it, Ky said. Every minute helps. Even as she talked, her fingers raced over the tasks . . . open a hatch, find the loose connection, reattach, check that other components were normal, close and seal, open the next . . . And if he closes in . . . maybe we get a new hull.
Suits?
Ky paused, hands still for a moment. Their suits might save them . . . or condemn them to a slow death outside the ship. Theyd be clumsier in suits . . . Not quite yet, she said. But tell me if he closes, and be sure you dont let him know youre doing it.
Right, Captain. Uh . . . Ill need another crewmember to act the part of mutineer. Who should I get? Rafe?
Not Rafe, Ky said instantly. Osman would see Rafe for what he was, and while he might believe that Rafe would turn on her, he would not trust anything Rafe said. Her mind flicked through the personnel files. Alene? Sherry? Mitt? Beeah? No, Osman might recognize any longtime Vatta employee. Not Martin: he was too obviously military. Jim, she said. Youll have to explain it to him; I dont have time.
Will do, Lee said.
Ky went back to the mines, surprised to find that she was already on the sixth. Her mind wanted to wander off to the best deployment again, but she dragged it back. She must not make any mistakes here and now. Sixth, seventh, eighth . . .
Then Lee piped down to the nearest speaker the conversation he and Jim were having with Osman.
. . . just disable her, Osman said.
You dont understand. Jims voice sounded tense, whiny with the Belintan nasal accent. Shes killed mutineers before. Shes dangerous.
So am I, said Osman. If you dont get control of that ship, Ill have to destroy it. And you. Lookshe suspected trouble before. She thinks shes got a perfectly loyal crew now
And most of em are, Im sure, Lee said. I mean . . . shes not bad, exactly . . .
Do they want to live or are they happy to die loyal? Osman asked. Ask them that. Not all of them. That old fool Quincy Im sure would rather burn than betray a Vatta. His voice had acquired a sneer. But thats the choice. Work with me, or die. And you dont have much time . . . No, leave the connection live.
He didnt trust Lee and Jim, and no wonder.
I cant do that, Lee said. If she comes back to the bridge, shell notice . . . she told me not to answer.
Where is she now?
All over the damn ship, Lee said. Shes checking on everything, but I know shell come back in herean anyway, we have to get some others. Two of us, me and Jim, were not enough. If that Quincy finds out
Ky was fascinated by Lees glibness. Either he had some experience she didnt know about, or she had corrupted him in the past several months. She suspected both.
How many do you think will join you?
Allie, Jim said, speaking up. Shes unhappy anyway; she doesnt like that new cargomaster, she told me.
Mitt might join us, Lee said. And hes good in a fight. Sheryl probably. Like you said, Capn, Quincys no use to us and shes the one most likely to tell our captain.
You can have twenty minutes, Osman said. Then report back and tell me how its going.
What if shes on the bridge?
If youve got four people and you cant take down one, youre useless, Osman said.
Right, Lee said.

Ky finished the ninth mine, her mind now racing on the larger problem. Or was it a problem? Maybe it was an opportunity. He wanted to close and board . . . if she had a crew trained in EVA, she could send someone over to his ship with a mine when they were close enough. She didnt have a crew trained in EVA. Besides, that would damage or destroy the hull she wanted, and would signal Osmans allies that the mutiny was faked. If she could knock out his ships systemsshe stopped moving, immobile for long seconds as her mind threw up yet another scenario. Pictures flickered through her mind, almost too fast to follow. Transfer tube. Air locks open. A blurred shape flying through the tube . . . not this mine, but one of the others, one of the EMP weapons MacRobert had sent her.
Quincy. Martin.
Yes, Captain?
Do we have any kind of . . . of machine or something that can throw a . . . say . . . seventy-kilogram mass about a hundred, two hundred meters?
You mean like a hydraulic piston sort of thing? No.
No. Not the answer she wanted, needed. Her mind threw up the picture of Mehars pistol bow. Made it bigger. Back in the dawn of time, people had used big machines of that type to throw rocks or something . . . but they didnt have time to build one, and it would have to be wider than the escape passage anyway. Could some of the crewall the crewheave the thing down the passage fast enough? Almost certainly not. Twang! The sound of a packing cord coming loose made her jump. Then the plan appeared, bright and clear and complete in her mind.
Quincy, how many packing cords would it take to accelerate that seventy-kilo mass?
Packing cords . . . packingcords! Ky could see the engineering mind at work, as clearly as if Quincys implant were printing the figures on her forehead. Thats the craziestbutAlene! Sheryl! Get me all the packing cords you can grabthe priority on purple and green, three meters . . . youll want some way to fasten them . . .
Yes. And some way to make sure the load was lined up with the internal and external hatches, and some way to be sure that Osmans air lock was open, and some way to take advantage of the confusion that would result if this worked and to recover from the mess if it didnt. But she felt a wave of confidence. It was a workable idea, the first shed had, and from it flowed concatenated consequencesusing Osmans ship as a shield against his allies, once she gained control.
Maam, thats a very dangerous plan Martin began.
We have a very dangerous situation, Ky said. As several people, including you, pointed out earlier. Have you got a better plan? If this works it will prevent a boarding situation.
His plan if they were boarded had been complex, and she was not at all sure her crew could carry it out. Especially the last phase.
I understand that, maam.
Oh, and Quincywith just the EMP pulse aimed into his ship, estimate the damage to grapples, transfer tube, and our control systems . . . She ripped open one of the cartons.
Right, Quincy said, sounding more cheerful. And send Martin down here.
Risks. If this failed, they might actually be captured. That must not happen. Toby must not fall into enemy hands, nor Stella, nor Quincy . . . nor she herself. She thought it would workit should work, it certainly could workbut what if it didnt? She called Toby, Stella, and Rafe to meet her in the rec area. They had a right to know the worst before the others. The final elements of Martins plan, the ones she hadnt told them about before in case it never happened.
The situation is . . . grave, Ky said. Toby paled, but didnt move. Stella, already paler by nature, sat as still.
Hopeless? Rafe asked.
No. Not hopeless. Difficult, dangerous, tricky. Grave. But not ever hopeless.
Rafe pursed his lips. Sometimes, Captain Vatta, it is necessary to recognize when there are no viable alternatives.
The formality alerted her. You think there are not?
Were outnumbered by larger, faster ships, several of them armed with ample weaponry to blow us away if the defensive suite doesnt hold, and maybe even if it functions as advertised. Our enemies have proposed a plan that they claim will save some of the crewdo you believe that, by the way?
Of course not, Ky said. They have no interest in the crews lives. They assume I do.
And this plan involves letting this ship be boarded. So . . . it might be time to eat the bullet.
I think not, Ky said. I think its time to have our enemy eat the bullet. Its just that ensuring it goes down their gullet is not going to be easy.
And the cost of error might not be a quick death, Rafe said, holding her gaze.
That at least lies within our power, Ky said. She did not glance at Toby; she did not want to see that awareness enter his eyes. The pup moved suddenly, squirming out of Tobys grip with a grunt; his claws clicked on the deck.
Rascal! said Toby in a tense voice.
Its all right, Ky said, almost relieved by the interruption. Rascals behavior is the least of our problems. I do feel its imperative that every crewmember have the capability to ensure a quick death . . .
You mean . . . suicide? Toby asked.
She had to look at him now. His brow furrowed with the effort to act calm; his jaw was clamped, mouth in a firm line.
Yes, she said. But only if its necessary, if the rest of this doesnt work.
My . . . my family didnt believe in suicide, he said, looking down.
Neither did mine, Ky said. For all the usual reasons. But Toby, if Osman captured you . . . it doesnt bear thinking on.
I . . . dont want to die.
Me, neither. I dont intend to die, in fact. I intend to kill Osman, and my parents also taught me that killing people was wrong. But youre signed to the contract as an adult, Toby. Adults sometimes have to do things they never thought theyd do. If you honestly cant . . . well . . . well take care of you.
From his face, he understood that, too. Can we kill them?
I think so. Or Id blow this ship myself.
All right. His face stiffened. Ky glanced at Rafe and Stella. Dont . . . I can do it myself, if I have to. Will it . . . hurt?
No, Ky said. Honesty, brutal to the end, forced her to add, Or at least, not as long as Osman would. She handed out the packets.
Rascal was gnawing on her boot; she bent down and scooped him up. He wiggled furiously, managing to swipe his tongue over her chin before she was able to dump him back into Tobys grip. Here you go, Toby, she said. She searched for something comforting to say and came up empty. What could you say, after telling a youngster he might have to kill himself? There was always the appeal to duty . . . and what teenager didnt have secret fantasies of being the hero? You take care of him, and do whatever Quincy asks. Youre cleveryou may be the one who saves the ship.
Yes, Captain, Toby said. He still looked scared, and no wonder, but his eyes also held a spark of interest beyond fear. IllIll try to help.
Toby, youve helped already. Youre going to make a fine captain someday. If he lived. If any of them lived. If she had ships for him to captain. But that was her job.

Her father had once said that the easiest person to cheat was the person who expected to be cheated. Shed heard that repeatedly from others, as well, most recently from Osman himself. He would certainly expect tricks, but what tricks would he expect? That the mutiny was faked, that her crew would really resist? That she would find out? What would he consider clues that this was happening?
Delay, probably. If her crew started equivocating, delaying, hed think they were up to something. If, on the other hand, they urged him to get with it, from the beginning . . .
She called Lee on the private circuit. Tell him its got to be quick, she said. Tell him youre worried that Ill find out, rally the loyalists or blow the ship, and its got to be quick. Then another thought struck her. Tell him youll get my command implant.
You dont have an implant.
He doesnt know that. He asked what I had, if I could give him an update. I lied and said I had only the most basic, probationary one. But he wont believe that; he wants to think I have an advanced one.
But you dont . . . do you?
Not in me. Thats why hell find a view of me unconscious with my head laid open proof that it exists. Its your safety lever, Lee. If he blows the ship, he loses a treasurethe information in a Vatta command implant. Bargain with him. Tell him you can deliver that, and the cargo, if hell let you and the crew go with the ship.
Butwhat about you?
Itll only be for a short time, while you put the vid pickup on me to prove Im captive and helpless.
Stella shook her head. It wont do, she said. Its too dangerous. Ill be youhe doesnt know what you look like
He would have vid images from Lastway, murmured Rafe. If he suborned someone at MilMart, they could have taken plenty of shots.
A wig, makeup, Stella said. Im good at impersonation; you know that. Likeliest thing, hell want a constant vid pickup, not just that one glimpse.
A bag over your head, Ky said. Thats even safer. But the close-up to show that the implants out . . . that has to be my head. No matter what you do with makeup, your cheekbones dont look like mine.
What about the implants? You have two extra now, the one your father sent to Sabine, with Furman, and the command dataset one from . . . from him.
Whats yours, Stella?
Currently? Admin Level Two. Lots of data, no command functions.
The one Furman sent would give you command functions for this ship, Ky said.
I dont want it, Stella said. Remember, I was never trained for shipboard duties. Without time to assimilate whats in the database, Id mess something up. Why dont you give that one to Toby? And you really need to have the command dataset yourself.
True, and shed already thought of that. There isnt time, she said. If I cant make a quick adjustment, Id be unable to act when they board.
Rafe says its possible, Stella said.
And you believe him? Ky said.
Its his life, too, Stella said. The best chance for us is for you to be augmented as much as possible, isnt that right?
It was. Her earlier objections to putting in the implant now seemed foolish. If she had done it on Lastway, or in the safety of FTL flight . . . they would have had time to cope with whatever problems occurred. Even if it left her completely incapable, Stella could have asked the mercs for assistance. But shed left it until the last minute, hoping to wait out the whole six months, and now
All right, she said, and turned to Rafe. So . . . is it possible in the time we have left?
Possible to do, of course. Possible for you to regain full function . . . thats less certain. Probably; youre young, and the implant is presently set to a close genetic match. But its going to be rough to push the adaptation. Things your brain normally does while you sleep, youll have to do rapidly while awake. And youd best do it nowyoull need every minute of time to adapt.
Time . . . time slipped away, the minutes disappearing far too fast. Ky prepared one of the mines MacRobert had sent her for its peculiar use and explained to Jim just what he should do when the time came. Martin would take command of the ships defensive response if she could not. They would have just that one chance to disable Osmans ship, or part of it, one chance . . . she did not let herself dwell on the likelihood that they would all be dead in a few hours. They were not going to die; she was not going to let that happen.

The picture of Ky unconscious, with the implant out, they shot just before Rafe put the command implant in. Hes going to want continuous feed, Ky said. Hes going to want to know its not a trick. So we give him continuous feed or what looks like continuous feed. Jiggly, a handheld remote brought in for the purpose. No vid pickups in the captains cabin; hell believe that. Show me with the implant out, with the implant in someones gloved hand, then someone putting a pillowcase over my head and tying me up. Then wobbly, panning briefly, before it steadies again on someone else tied up on my bunk. Thatll be Stella . . . are you sure, Stella?
Im sure, Stella said. Im most expendable.
She wasnt. No Vatta was expendable. But neither were crew.
Just be sure he doesnt get me alive, Stella said. Me or my implant.
Hes not going to get you at all, Ky said with more confidence than she felt. A few minutes later, they had arranged the setup as well as they could. Ky lay on her bunk and let Rafe slide the needle into her vein; her last thought as darkness took her was a quick prayer that she had guessed right about him.
She woke after what seemed only a moment, on the dining table in the rec area, feeling sick and disoriented. Rafes face and Quincys were close above her. Ky . . . , Quincy was saying. Do you know who I am now?
Quincy Robins, Ky said, struggling with her tongue, which felt clumsy. Her vision blurred, shimmered, and cleared again, this time with a foreground of text and icons: Quincys entire confidential personnel file, retrievable by focusing on the icons that brought up additional text. You were married four times?
That answers my next question, Quincy said. Your implants working, at least.
Sorry, Ky said, putting a hand to her head. Its . . . a little overwhelming. How long?
Fifteen minutes, Rafe said. Somewhat to her surprise, data on him also popped up, referencing his association with Stella and filled with query marks. It took a bit longer than Id planned; that is one complicated implant, and the adjustment routines are . . . tricky. Hows your vision?
Weird, Ky said. Everything she looked at brought up a screen of data; she should be able to suppress that, but so far the usual damping controls didnt seem to work. Had her father dealt with this visual complexity all the time? How much time do we have?
Osman plans to grapple on in about three hours, he says.
At the name, Osmans data came up . . . even worse than Quincy had remembered. He had been sent for counseling, for mandatory psychiatric treatment, for mandatory control implantation . . . but hed escaped then . . . hed stolen, both by force and by embezzlement; hed gambled, dishonestly; hed tried to cheat shippers and his own ship alike. His approaches to sexual partners were abusive, threatening; his penchant for violence showed up early and never abated.
Shed been an idiot, just as Johannson said. Shed risked the remaining Vatta command structure, and only now did it occur to her that she might have sent Stella and Rafe aboard one of the escort ships, to safety, with the Vatta command implant, and risked only herself.
No time for self-recriminations, though. She felt around mentally, pushing every implant control she could find to see what happened. Dizziness . . . nausea . . . she was briefly aware of someone holding a bowl under her mouth . . . and then plunged again into the datastream. This was not how you were supposed to meld with a new implant, certainly not one of this complexity, but she had no time for that, either.
Finally her vision cleared. She looked at Quincy. No data screen blurred that worried old face. Rafe. Same there. Her head felt overstuffed; she wasnt sure of her balance, but she had to function.
What do you take, she asked Rafe, when you have to go on right away?
Coffee helps, he said. Heres a mug. Unless you still want to spew.
No, my stomachs fine now, Ky said. She tried to sit up and the room lurched, turned pale yellow, then settled back to normality.
You dont look it, he said, steadying her with one arm and holding the mug with the other hand.
I pushed all the buttons, Ky said. Upright again, she felt better but still strange. She held out her hands. The left one twitched in a slow rhythm. She willed it to be still, to no effect. Her right was steady. Good thing Im right-handed, she said, and took the coffee. A few sips later, her vision had sharpened to extreme clarity and she could feel her blood vessels vibrating. Enough, she said to Rafe.
The extra sensitivity wears off in about four hours, he said.
Four hours they didnt have. Ky opened her implant to the ship circuits and for the first time in months felt the direct connection to all functions that she thought she hadnt missed.
Hows Osman taking the video show? she asked, then realized she didnt have to ask. Her implant linked to the ships communications, and she had her own view of Osmans face on half a screen while also receiving the vid feed he was getting on the other half. She shrank both to an unobtrusive level, listening in to Lee on the bridge.
Theyre still barricaded in the engine room, Lee was saying. I cant get a feed down there; theyve blocked the pickups.
That would be Quincy, Osman said. Well, we can handle her when we get aboard. Wheres the implant?
Lee looked stubborn. I dont want to tell you, not yet, he said. How do I know you wont just kill us all?
You dont, Osman said. But I wont. I just want your captain, and Quincy, and the implant. I will take your cargo, since you offered it, but then youre free to go. Or join us, if you wish.
Some do, Lee said. I havent decided, myself. I . . . it would be strange, not being Vatta . . .
Youd still be Vatta, Osman almost purred. I am Vatta, after all. The Vatta heir, in fact.
Thats true, I suppose . . . Lee looked thoughtful. Ky began to think hed missed his calling; he was as good an actor as he was a pilot.
So why dont you tell me where the implant is?
We put it in someone, Lee said. But I wont tell you who. That way you wont want to kill any of us . . . for a while.
A shadow crossed Osmans face, but then he smiled again. Ingenious. I admire ingenuity.
Ky grinned to herself. In that case, he should admire hers . . . about ten seconds before he died.
Her plan, such as it was, had too many failure points to satisfy her, but it was the only one shed been able to devise and it was above all ingenious.
She pushed herself off the table and staggered; Rafe steadied her again. Your coordination will return faster if you move around a lot, he said. But youre going to fall into walls a few times.
Great, Ky muttered. One leg felt longer than the other, then that reversed. Normally, a nights sleep allowed a brain and an implant to work out peacefully what individual differences mattered here, but she didnt have a night to sleep. She had a battle to fight. Someone get me Mehars target bow, she said. If I cant walk straight I have to at least shoot straight. And I need my pressure suit. She took a couple of steps, feeling very unsteady, then sat in a chair and stood up again.
Here, Captain. That was Mehar herself; Ky quickly damped the data screen that matched her face and voice, and took the target bow with its blunted bolts. Mehar had already placed a pillow on a chair across the compartment. Quincy now held her pressure suit, unfastened and ready.
Ky took the bow and aimed at the pillow; the bolt thwacked into it. Well, thats something. She stepped sideways, and nearly fell into the table. And thats something else . . . Another shot, this one a foot wide.
Dance it, Rafe suggested.
Dance?
He did something, she couldnt see what, and music came from the speakers. Come here, he said. Ill show you.
Confused and still unsteady, Ky allowed herself to be held, and then he began to move to the music, dragging her along. You do dance . . . ? he asked in her ear.
Er . . . yes. Like all the Vatta children, shed been given dancing lessons in many styles; dance was, everyone agreed, a good preparation for space flight, teaching body awareness and control. But since . . . since the Academy junior ball, when shed danced with Hal, she had not danced, or thought of dancing. Now the music and Rafes movements brought it back. Her bodys quarrel with the implant receded as melody and rhythm worked on older parts of her brain; she moved more and more smoothly with him. The tremor in her left hand ceased; she felt the warring components slide into harmony. More than that, she felt warm, alive, happy in a way she had not since . . .
You dance well, Rafe said in her ear. So youre not a cold fish after all . . . Then, moving slightly away, Is that better?
Yes, she said, surprised. How did you know She hoped her cheeks werent flushed with more than implant effects. This was not the time or the man.
Bad experience, he said. Switched implants in the mens room at an embassy ball, thought I could hide out pretending to be drunk for a few hours, but no such luck. Had to get up and danceit would have started a war if I hadntand just a few minutes later, I was fine. Mostly. Getting shut of that odious woman, though, that took a while.
Ky moved around the room again, this time smoothly, and five blunts went into the pillow from various angles. Time to suit up, she said. In the suits privacy no one would notice what she was feeling, surely very dangerous feelings on the eve of battle. Rafe looked at her, a very knowing look that seemed to go straight to her core, and she looked back steadily, willing herself not to blush, not to react.
Youll be fine, he said. He turned to his own suit and began to clamber into it.
       
       
CHAPTER TWENTY
The last moments before the curtain goes up . . . the last moments before the music starts . . . Ky looked at the stage shed designed, the music she would start, as Fair Kaleens grapples reached them, as they were drawn closer to the other ship, as the transfer tube bulged out and adhered to the hull around their emergency exit hatch. All the arguments over: Martin still thought he should be where she was, but she had final responsibility. It was her job.
Her stomach knotted, then unknotted. She and her fathers implant were mostly in accord now, with no more balance problems, no sensory problems that she recognized. She hadnt had time to familiarize herself with all the faculties, the way he had chosen to organize the proprietary information, but the ship command functions all worked. She shouldnt, she hoped, need more than that. Foremost, already set up, were her links to her own ships functions, and those of Fair Kaleen . Osman would have made some changes, in the years hed commanded the old ship, but buried deep in its command layers, in kernels hardened from the attack she planned, should be responses to her Vatta command dataset that he could not anticipate and counteract. If she could get there.
In her earbug, she heard Lee describingbreathlesslythe chaos on the ship. Weve got her safe in the captains cabin, you saw that, and its secure, but Quincys done something
Never mind about that. Osmans voice sounded impatient. Well send a team over to take care of it, whatever it is. But youre sure the captains secure?
You can see that, Lee said, sounding grumpy. I just dont want Quincy to disable the ship and have us stranded out herethat old womans crazy enough . . .
Via the implant, Ky could tell that the other ship was broadside-on to its course, as were they: the safest close-maneuver configuration, since neither could fry the other with insystem drives if someone turned them on. This also meant that rotation about the long axis could impart angular momentum to objects shed from a hatch, right back down the course. She had a use for that, if she survived the next few minutes.
Send someone down to open up, Osman ordered Lee. Or Ill blow the hatch.
I am, I am, Lee said hastily. Jim, go unlock the door.
Why is it always me? Jim said in a sulky tone for the camera, but in moments he jogged down the central corridor, winking at Ky as he came past her, pulling up the hood of his pressure suit.
Right side, Ky reminded him. He said nothing, but nodded. As he undogged the inner hatch, Lee spoke up suddenly. Jimlook outQuincy and that idiot Beeah are out of the cargo bay
Im on it, Jim grunted. Dont worry He was now in the emergency air lock, working on the outer hatch. Damn, this thing is stiff Ky assumed that Osman would have an optical link set to observe through the tiny safety window as well as monitoring transmissions.
Its always been a problem, Lee said. I told youwe had trouble with it at Sabinebut hurry up!
Send me some help, Jim said, making a dramatic lunge at the hatchs controls.
Canthave to hold the bridgecant let them get to the Realistic sounds of gunfire cut him off.
Damn it! Jim snarled and lunged again as if frantic. This time he hit the controls, and the hatch opened halfway. He shoved, then flattened against the right side of the air lock as Ky cut the restraining line and the EMP mine, powered by every elastic lashdown cord on the ship, shot past his knees, through the twenty meters of transfer tube, and crashed into someone in a pressure suit, knocking him back into Osmans air lock. The man had been holding a fat disk that Ky recognizedin that instants glimpseas a limpet mine.
Get that hatch closed! she said to Jim, and raced to help him, mentally counting seconds. Damn, damn, damn, damn . . . outer hatch dogged . . . inner . . .
Whoomp. Ky opened her mouth to comment. WHOOMP! Lights flickered, an alert signal buzzed. She peeked through the small emergency viewport in time to see a cloud of debris in her own ships exterior lights, and the abrupt disintegration of the transfer tube. Grapple lines flailed. Something rattled against the viewport; she ducked, then looked again. Pieces of space armor . . . trailing clouds that glowed red in the spotlights. Her gorge rose; she swallowed against it. A second and third burst of debris from Fair Kaleens air lock, then a steady stream . . . and the intership distance increased; the other ship began a slow rotation about her longitudinal axis. Ky realized with horror that the ships air was bleeding out, the automatic systems disabled by the dual explosion of two mines, not oneand one of them a hullbuster. If the air lock hadnt already been open, Fair Kaleen would have had a hull breach.
She imagined the howling gale of decompression, terrifying in the darkness when their lights failed. Some compartments would be spared . . . those in pressure suits might survive for hours, even days . . . but depending on the damage done by the pair of mines, the ship might be helpless.
That wasnt what shed meant to do. In her mind, a tiny voice explained to a nonexistent parent that it wasnt supposed to happen that way. It was just supposed to mess up the command systems . . . she closed the inner hatch of the air lock and shook her head at Jims questions. She had to figure out what to do now. How long would Fair Kaleens systems be down before the automatic reset tried to restore functions? Would the loss of pressurization change that? How much damage had Osmans own mine done? How many of his crew were dead, and how much resistance would she face if she tried to board? And was he himself deadhad he been in the air lockor was he still aboard, fighting to regain control of his ship and come after her?
What was that? she heard someone yell.
Them, she said. Her implant displayed data on the debris still impacting their shields, a flowing mass of numbersdimensions and presumed mass of particles, their velocities and vectors, hundreds, thousands of tiny impacts. She shut off that analysis as too confusing, checked on her own ships integrity and systems function, relieved to find that no serious damage had resulted. On her way to the bridge, she stopped by her cabin to let Stella know they had won the first round.
Get this thing off my head, Stella said; Ky helped her get out of the pillowcase, the bindings. She followed Ky to the bridge, where Lee had the controls.
Can you snug us in against his ship? Ky asked Lee. Stella, released from her role as a bound captive, leaned on the bulkhead.
Its rotating, Lee said. Itll be a tricky maneuver. Whats the purpose?
For one thing, hell be blind to where we are, even if he gets his main scans back onlinewell be too close. For another, even if he figures out where we are, attacking us will destroy his own ship. In the time it takes him to figure it outif he doeswe have the chance to get in and convert the ships systems. Or we can just keep clobbering them with successive EMP attacks. And his allies, those two warships, will certainly attack us if were separated from him, but possibly not if were attached.
Youre assuming Osmans still alive and in control, Stella said.
I hope not, but for nowyes. Its safer that way. At least were not still attached, and everyone in that transfer tube or air lock should be dead. Controls in all powered suits should be gone, too.
Unless he has mechanical overrides, Martin said, arriving at that moment. But youre probably right. And I imagine anyone aboard is too busy trying to survive to try to get to us. He grinned at Ky. That was a brilliant idea after all, Captain. But how did you know theyd have a mine with them?
I didnt, Ky said. I knew theyd try some trick to disable the crew here; I was actually thinking some kind of chemical weapon. Knock you all down alive, take all the implants
Stella shuddered. That would have been horrible.
I can match us to his ship, Lee said, but itll take a while. I have to get his current vectors, and then match rotation.
Do we have enough power to stop the rotation if were attached?
I dont know. We can slow it, probably. Whyoh. So we can hide from the other bad guys?
Yeah. If they shoot, I want that buffer between us.
Right. We leave our defensive suite up, though?
Absolutely, Ky said. Even if its not working perfectly, its all we have.
She called Quincy to ask about progress in the repair. Toby did it, Quincy reported. Better for him to be busy. Oh, and that dratted pup came up with the part he carried off before. Toby says it was defective to start withits mislabeled. It wouldve failed when we turned the system on.
Toby is quite the little genius, Ky said.
Hes a good kid, Quincy said defensively. Ky felt her own eyebrows go up.
I never said he wasntI think were lucky to have him And not her own sulky teenaged self, though maybe she wouldnt have been as bad on another ship.
Well . . . fine. Quincy cleared her throat. Are we . . . still expecting boarders?
No. Let me put this on all-ship Ky switched channels. Status report, everyone. Osman tried to double-cross us, have someone carry a limpet mine aboard. We won the toss. Our mine detonated his, both of them in his air lock. His ships disabled, losing air out the open air lock, and some of his crew are . . . gone. Were in pursuit now, trying to match courses and rotation; we still have his allies to worry about, but we have a couple of hours grace. Stay in your pressure suits, but you can open up and have something to eat.
A moments silence, then a cheer from somewhere back down the passage. Does this mean I dont get to shoot anyone? Rafe asked.
Not at the moment.
Too bad. What are your next plans, Captain?
Im working on them, Ky said. I didnt expect what did happen.
Dont admit that, Rafe said. I was admiring your prescience. I expected treachery, but not that hed mine our ship before he got you and the implant.
He wanted the mine in place, Ky said. That was easy to figure. He could have set it off later. But I failed to consider that both mines might detonate together in his ship . . . and I should have.
Maam, with your permission Ill go remove the booby traps I set up before someone bumps them.
Of course, Martin, Ky said.
Id have thought the EMP from one wouldve turned off his, Stella said. Dont all mines have electronic controls?
Yes, Ky said. But the limpets like his are also pressure-sensitiveits what keeps you from prying them off your ship if you find them before they go off. I got just a glimpse, but it looked like ours hit the limpet square on, with enough force to knock the man carrying it back into the air lock . . . and then it was just the usual few seconds delay.
Well, food sounds good to me, Stella said. Ill be in the galley if you need me.
We have a problem, Lee said. Their ships moving more irregularly . . . I can still match it, but until something smooths out their motion, our artificial gravitys going to be hard put to cope with the irregularities.
Try it, Ky said. Ill let everyone know to expect some problems.

Minutes crawled by. Ejecta from the other ships air lock flashed against their defensive screen, but nothing penetrated. The scans showed the other ships complex motion. The air lock was forward of the ships center of mass, so its effect as a maneuvering reaction engine had created an erratic rotation rather than a smooth roll about the center axis. Lee edged Gary Tobai in slowly, using the nav computer to model and then match that eccentricity.
If we arent matched exactly, their greater mass could give us a fatal whap, he said. The least relative motions close to their center of mass . . . thats where we should grapple. Nearscans accurate enough, but theres too much data with all that junk shes spewing.
You think its too dangerous? Ky asked.
Dangerous, yes. Too dangerous . . . compared to what, Id have to say.
I dont want to lose that ship, Ky said. If it keeps losing atmosphere and tumbling, it could be ruined . . . or Osman might find a way to get it back in operation. If only shed had a trained boarding team . . . the military could do it; if shed had a squad of Slotter Key marines . . . but nobody on her shipexcept her, and she could not leave the shipcould go out there, board a tumbling ship, and deal with whatever was inside. If the sturdy traditional Vatta systems reset themselvesand they mightOsman could regain control, and then . . . then things would be far worse.
And time was ticking away. The enemy warships would be in range in a few minutes.
She had the other mine. She had the skills herself . . . or she had had them, what was now a year and a half ago, standard. Her scores on EVA maneuvers had always been clears, no faults.
On maneuvers she had practiced repeatedly, in the zero-g gyms. Standard maneuvers, in standardized conditions. This was . . . this was nonstandard.
A dull clank reverberated up the main passage. From the hull? Something had made it through the screens?
Helmets! Ky said, before analysis had begun to catch up with instinct. Shed forgotten, shed turned the exterior analysis module off. The hatch She was moving now, down the passage, boosting the implant feeds, grabbing for pickups as she went.
Air lock in use, the implant told her. Outer hatch open, inner hatch shut . . . Shut outer hatch, she said, to the implant.
UNABLE TO COMPLY. PHYSICAL BLOCK OF OUTER HATCH, came up on her display.
Jim had closed it. She knew she had secured both hatches. But emergency hatches could be opened from either side
A blinding flash of insight: not all those hurtling bodies out of Osmans air lock had been casualties. His crew was trained in boarding techniques, and she had not sent anyone outside to be sure their hull was clean . . . idiot that she was, with that misplaced sympathy for the crew shed assumed was dead or dying. After a moment, her heart steadied again, and she felt an icy calm.
Enemy aboard, she said. Everyone get your suits sealed; section seals coming down. Her implant showed who was where . . . scattered, since shed given them permission to relax from the first alert. Two in the head, one in the galley, some at duty stations, some in their bunks. The icons moved now, but not quickly enough . . . the section seals came down, securing them wherever they were, with whatever weapons they had in hand at the moment.
Expect decompression, she said. It was the simplest way for the enemy to disable them; they were probably rigging a way to shut the ship up again quickly. She herself was now cut off from the bridge, from her cabin, from the other mines in cargo 3; the elegant little handgun shed bought at Lastway, loaded now with frangibles, was the only weapon she had. Other than the one between her ears.
That one stopped her before she entered the last stretch of the passage to the air lock, still out of sight of the enemy. Her implants display gave her a visual of the air lock . . . two figures in pressure suits. What blocked the outer hatch was a suit of space armor, apparently immobile. Through the implant controls, she zoomed the image. Inside the faceplate of the armor, a ghastly imagea face blue-gray, mouth open, eyes wide with horror, dulled with death. She changed the focus of the pickup, and saw that the two pressure-suited figures were indeed working on the inner hatch, attaching the ends of a hydraulic cylinder . . . they did not appear to be safety-lined in yet, though she saw coils of line around the shoulders of one of them. She didnt recognize the weapons they were carrying, but the tool set they were using on the hatch would certainly open any other hatch in the ship, in time.
If there was enough pressureand she opened the inner hatchthen they could be blown out themselves . . . if that armor wasnt stuck too tightly. It probably was; they wouldnt have left themselves in that vulnerable position. The implant gave her a quick calculation of the amount of force needed to dislodge the armor . . . no, theyd wedged it in well. It would take another fifty kilograms of mass, and she didnt have that handy, not with the mines now sequestered behind a compartment lockdown, where they could do no good. She could manually open and shut each one, but she knew that would take too long.
Well . . . she did have fifty kilos of mass, but if she let go the safety grabons and used her own body to blow them out the lock, then shed be out there, accelerating away from her own ship. Not where she wanted to be . . . not a good tactical choice.
She found another vid pickup just inboard of the air lock and aimed it up-passage. The packing cords that had launched her mine lay in a tangle. She could tie onto them as safety anchors; theyd pull her back. It wouldnt work. It couldnt work. But neither would letting Osman and his crew aboard. How many of them were there outside? She didnt have enough external pickups; the implant couldnt give her that information.
There are two of them in the air lock, she said to her own ship intercom. They have some space armor wedged in the outer hatch. Decompression alone wont blow them back out . . . itll take more mass.
How much? Quincy asked, ever the engineer.
Oh . . . fifty kilos would do it. Unfortunately, I dont have a spare fifty kilos. Quincy would have a fit if she knew what Ky was contemplating. Ky didnt like it much herself.
Reopen the seals to the rec room and grab something? Rafe asked. Im there; I could toss you a chair.
Are you suited? Ky asked.
Yes. Upshift hatch is sealed; the galley hatch should hold for a brief decompression, and that would add additional volumethese chairs arent that heavy, but they might be enough with the additional volume.
It was an idea, but she knew it wasnt going to work. The implant confirmed that when she queried it.
Captain That was Martin. Give me the codes for manual opening and closinglet me come help
Where are you? Ky asked.
Im right beside that carton of EMP mines.
Im closer, Rafe said. Only one seal away.
I have the skills, Martin said. Hand-to-hand in vacuum and zero G
Just what she needed, two men squabbling over who was better equipped to help her. She would like to have had them both with her, but they werent. Youll both stay where you are, she said.
She rifled quickly through the emergency tool locker in the passage. Fire ax, zero-pressure sealant canister, long utility knife, prybar, boards, first-aid kit . . . she couldnt take it all, but the fire ax and knife went on her belt.
The implant noted that while she was 92 percent likely to break the space armor loose from the outer hatch, she was 83 percent likely to break bones in the process, and 24.3 percent likely to suffer fatal injuries. But the alternative chances were worse: if Osman caught her, shed be 100 percent dead after suffering she didnt want to contemplate. No choice, really . . .
Her suitcustomized, top of the line from Deere Ltd.was supposed to have superlative impact resistance, a combination of reinforced panels and impact-inflated cushions. She fed the suit data into her implant, and the probability of fatal injury dropped to 6.2 percent, broken bones to 21 percent . . . that was more like it, though a bone was either broken or not . . .
She moved on down the passage. The boarders could seeif they chose to lookthrough the window in the interior hatch. But if she was quick enough, all theyd see was a blur. The tangled cords lay in front of her now; she hooked them with the end of the fire ax and pulled them slowly to her.
Best not depend on the strength of her grip; she detached one of the packing cordspurple, breaking load twelve hundred kilogramsand looped it through the reinforced loop on her pressure suit designed for tethers, then around the other cords, and secured it. The implant display showed that the intruders were still intent on their workno, one of them was looking up and around now.
No more time. Ky backed into the loop of the packing cords, pulling them as taut as she could, then told Lee, Im opening the inner hatch.
But youre
Her implant took over. She had time to think This was a really stupid ideaand then the combination of elastic cords and escaping air flung her down the passage. She had thought she could hold herself rigid, like a spear, until the moment of impact, but the vortex of escaping air twisted her, threatened to slam her flailing body against the hatch opening. She pulled herself into a tight ball, fists locked on the cords, and struck the boarders with her right side, slamming them into the space-armored figure wedged in the hatch. With a shriek she could feel as much as hear, the space armor broke loose in that instant, and she and the others flew out the open hatch. She could see, in the external lights, someone else splayed flat against the hull. One of the boarders was loose, floating away; the other grabbed the tether, hands alongside hers, as it reached its full extension and began to retract.
Simultaneously Ky and the boarder each took a hand off the line and tried to shove the other off. The enemy managed to grab her wrist; his grip, possibly augmented by his suit, tightened painfully. She didnt need to hear what he was saying; she could imagine it. They rotated, struggling in the combination of forces, the lack of gravity, the pull of the retracting tether.
Ky let go the tether with her left hand, flipped it around her leg, and grabbed the clearing knife from her tool belt. Her enemy never saw it before she had slit his suit up under the right arm. Air puffed from his suit, pushing her away, yanking her arm. The suits repair functions oozed foam, confining the loss to that limb, but immobilizing his arm. She stabbed again, this time ripping the left arm; his hand spasmed, releasing her; they rotated away from each other.
Five seconds to impact, her implant warned her. Ky struggled, trying to see, to curl away from hitting the ship head-on. Therebut something grabbed her leg, and pulled . . . she could feel the elastic cords stretching . . . she twisted. A hand clamped around her ankle; the suited figure trailed a thin stream that glittered in her headlamp. Powered suit. He had a powered suitof course he did, thats how they crossed the interval in the first placeher mind gibbered wildly. The implant threw up a screen of information about powered suits, most of which Ky had no interest in. She was trying to curl up, avoid whatever that was streaming from the others suit in case it was corrosive, and get that hand off her ankle. Her contortions made the other figure writhe, and their vector shifted irregularly, but he didnt let go.
She had been told zero-g fights were chaotic, impossible to predict even inside closed spaces. Outside a ship . . . Just dont get yourself in that situation, her instructors had said. Fine, but no help now. The suit resisted her attempts to bend over, get her hand and knife near the person clutching her; it had been possible in ship atmosphere, but not here. She tried another tactic, using alternating arm movements to impart a longitudinal spin . . . and that finally brought her arm close to the other. He had something that looked like a wrecker bar with a pointed tip in his hand, but she was inside his guard and almost behind him. She clutched him firmly to her with her right arm, and ran the knife blade up . . . in under the suit . . . up again.
The knife parted his suit from hip to shoulder; a mist clouded her faceplate briefly . . . he let go, and Ky managed to orient herself, finding her ship by its brilliant outside lightsits lights visibly nearingas the elastic cords accelerated her back toward the open air lock.
If she stayed connected, she would smash into her own ship. If she didnt, she was hanging out here with no power, no way to get back . . . except she was already moving back. Was it fast enough? Ky cut the tether to the cords and watched them move away from her, writhing like the tentacles of the sea creatures she had watched on the reef at Corleigh. She queried her implant . . . she would hit the ship, but not hard enough to damage the shipor herself.
She looked around as best she could. That dark moving blot across the starfield was Osmans ship, tumbling. The line of brilliant lights was her own, with its externals on, with its air lock still open, a larger area of light on the aft hull.
She cut her suit com back on. Captain to bridge
Where are you? What did you do?
Im closing on the ship now, she said.
On Kaleen ? Bewilderment and near panic were clear in Lees tone.
No. On us. I went out the hatch with the bad guystwo of them anyway. She bounced up the zoom on her helmet scan, looking for the one who had been starfished to the hull beside the hatch. He wasnt there. Where was he? Whats your internal scan say . . .
Somebodys inside, in the emergency passage. They wont answer; we thought it might be you with damage, maybe . . . we were just thinking of shutting the external hatch and airing up so we could open the compartments.
If she hadnt been in a suit, in free fall, shed have pounded her head with her hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Captains should never leave the ship in dangerous situations. Shed had that pounded into her time and again at the Academy. Never. Whatever the temptation, the captain stays aboard to deal with the peril . . . and she had flung herself out the hatch, grandstanding, as MacRobert would have said. Correctly. And one of the scumsucking bastards had made it aboard her ship.
Lock the hatch open, Lee, she said, even as she wondered why the boarder hadnt closed it already to keep her out if she escaped his allies. Dont break compartmentalization. Scan for other powered suits between us and the Kaleen .
Abruptly, startlingly, Fair Kaleens running lights came on, the beacons defining bow and stern blinking and the others holding steady patterns that outlined her shape. Either the automatic reset had worked, or someone aboard was able to get the systems up. Reset wasnt a problem, but the other possibility . . .
Now that it was too late, she could think of other things that might have worked better . . .
We lost vidscan in the emergency passage, Lee said. Were still compartmented
Good, Ky said.
But we dont know where whoever that is has gone or what he or she is up to.
She knew. She knew with the absolute certainty that had not yet failed her. He was going to blow up the ship, and her family with it, and all he needed was the time he already had. The time she had given him. A flicker of despair, the first touch of a black wave . . . but she had no time for that. Patch me to Martin.
Right. A pause, then Martins voice.
KyCaptainwhats happening?
Martin, youre in the same compartment with the mines, right?
Yes, but
Take one with green markings, like the one I used before. Open the sideyou saw me do it; you know where. Theres a manual control, a dial. Turn it to the left, all the way. Point the forward end so it will intersect the emergency passage. Set it to a five-second delay and get as far away from it as possible. An EMP pulse could be focused to some degree. Her implant threw up a schematic showing what ship systems would be in the way of that destructive beam. Too bad . . . better that than complete destruction.
But that will
Do it now! Then she tongued shipwide, and never mind if her enemy heard it. Disaster stations! All hands, disaster stations and hold position.
A second passed. Another. Another. Another.
As suddenly as Fair Kaleens lights had come on, Gary Tobais vanished. Her shipher responsibilitynow lay blind, all systems knocked out by a pulse of magnetics strong enough to injure the crew in some cases.
The hypercritical part of her mind screamed at her, Really smart, Kynow youve disabled your ship and youre barreling toward it and cant even see when to brace for impact, and thats if Osman doesnt blow it anywayThen she hit, hard, the suits protective mechanisms cushioning the blowbut the jar was still enough to take her breath for an instant. Her gloved hands scrabbled for something to hold on to, as rebound took her away, tumbling, and the loop of elastic in her hand caught a protruding stud . . . one of the eighty-two external mounts for the new defensive suite.
There was a control, if she could just get a boot onto the hull . . . and the rotation from that one tenuous handhold brought her left heel down long enough to trigger it. She lost the handhold, but her foot was attached now, thanks to the emergency gripper attachment built into the boots. Now to get her other boot down . . . there. So fine, the nasty mental voice went on. Now youre stuck to the side of your ship like an old-fashioned bowsprit ornament, and what good does that do? Ignoring the voice, Ky leaned over slowly and gripped the nearest external mount. The faintly adhesive pads on the glove fingers gave her a good grip. The far more adhesive pads on her boot soles grritch ed loose, one at a time, as she lifted one foot carefully, obtained a second handhold, put that foot back down, and then lifted the other.
The whole trick in moving on a hull without safety lines, the instructor had said, is not to do it in the first place. But just in case youre blown out of your ship and onto an enemy ship, heres what you can try. Move slowly. Always have three points of contact. Be aware of gravity fluctuations.
That at least she didnt have to worry about, with her ships systems down. Artificial gravity bleed-through faults in the external containment were the least of her problems. Finding the air lock, for instance, was likely to be a harder task. Figuring out what to do when she found it . . . could wait until she found it.
       
       
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The flashing beacons of the other ship stung her eyes . . . and gave, as she moved, intermittent glimpses of her own ship. After months in space, Gary Tobais hull was no longer as immaculate as it had been, but it still gleamed dully when the light flashed on it.
Except where the dark hole of the air lock gaped, now under her feet, just over two meters away.
Her enemy was in there. Somewhere. Armed with a ship-destroying mine, she was sure, and personal weapons as well. He could blow the ship now, but he would want to be sure she was there to see it happen, and he also wanted her implant. He would waitat least awhileto see if she came for him.
Clearly he could handle himself in free fall and hard vacuum, but the change from a lighted passage at one standard g to a dark passage in free fall should have done something. He should be blind, disoriented, his suit com and any electronic suit functions dead. That left his ship-killer. Had he attached it yet? Had he armed it yet?
Her implant, protected from the pulse that disabled her ship, told her the minutes and seconds since shed left the ship. Plenty of time, if hed gone in immediately, to attach and arm a mine, to set the delay . . .
She felt around the hatch edge. As on all external hatches, geometric shapes defined the top and bottom, making it impossible to attach hatches, transfer tubes, or other equipment upside down. She was at what would be the deck side, if gravity were on. Carefully, she worked her way around, keeping the hatch itself between her and whoever was inside. He should have been on the deck when the ship had gravity. What happened when the systems went out would depend on what he was doing, but his mental orientation should still be that the deck was down and the overhead up . . . whereas in free fall it did not matter.
She eased cautiously into the air lock, as flat against the bulkhead as possible to occlude as little of the starfield . . . in case his vision had returned. Through her gloves, she felt some vibration, as something collided with the surfaces of the escape passage. She dialed down her own faceplates transparency and turned up the implants visual display to full bright. Working off the suits external monitors, it gave her a ghostly pale sense of a tube with something lumpy moving erratically in it. She couldnt identify the mine she was sure the enemy had brought aboard, or how far away he was. She needed light.
Her suit light, up to full power, blazed, searing the passage with brilliant white lightshe knew that, though her view was blocked by her mirrored visor, by her enemys response. She had the one bit of luck shed prayed for: hed been facing aft, and the light hit him full in the face, half blinding him before his faceplate could adjust. The arm thrown up across his faceplate, the rotation that gave him, all gave her an instant in which to scan the passage for the . . . and there it was. At the moment, flat on what would be the deck . . . but whether already adhered and armed, or just there accidentally, she didnt have time to find out at the moment.
She pushed off the hinges of the outer hatch, turning her light off, aiming at the spot she wanted with the clean image her exterior vid had picked up and recorded. She bounced off the bulkhead just beyond the inner hatch, flicked the light on and off again quickly, to let the vids pick up enough to refine their image. Though it seemed agonizingly slow, this zigzag approach got her to him before he had controlled his own rotation. Then, her light blazing directly into his faceplate, she struck, the saw-bladed knife ripping into his suit fabric.
He was bigger, heavier, undoubtedly more experienced in space brawls onship and off. He clutched her arms, pushed off the bulkhead, moving them perilously back toward the outsideand worse, toward the mine on the deck. Another kick, off the overhead, and she knew they would hit it if she didnt change their vector. Twist, curl up to spin faster, stretch to slow . . . like a grotesque ballet, they rebounded again and again from bulkhead, overhead, deck, missing the mine by centimeters several times and only because Ky had marked it on her implants view and instinct drove the maneuvers that avoided it.
She got one hand loose, briefly, and ripped her gun from its holster, remembering as she did the salesmans comments on zero-g and variable-g gunfights. No matter. Recoil would give her a vector she could not control, but she could not wait for something better.
The first shot shattered on impact, the many fragments each sharp enough to slice through a pressure suit. Her arm jerked back; she fought it into position and fired again, again, again. The helmet would be armored, as hers was; he might wear torso armor . . . but the legs, the arms . . .
Even in the created view her monitors gave her, where his blood was shown turquoisethe smaller droplets pale, the large blobs darkit was grotesque. His grip on her other arm first clutched tighter, then loosenedthe force of the impacts moved him away from her, and she was pushed back. Now she was no longer centimeters away, but a meter . . . another meter. Again. Again. She dialed her faceplates protection down, slowly, letting her eyes adjust, seeing finally in true colors what she had done.
It was still shocking, how red the blood looked, how much blood hung in the passage in patches of red mist, blobs, strings. His suit leaked foam sealant from a hundred holes, too many . . . arms and legs motionless, imprisoned by the suits attempt to save his life. The face inside the helmet looked gray now, the eyes wide. But still alive. He blinked. Beyond him was the black maw of the open air lock hatch. The way he was moving, he would rebound from the bulkhead before he floated away. Ky bumped gently into some surface and pushed off in pursuit.
She caught him as he hit the bulkhead; she had a leg locked on either side of the inner air lock hatch. When she pulled the head close, his eyes stared into hers. Osman. Rage greater than before rose in her like a tide of light. His eyes shifted, back to where the mine was positioned. Then he grinned at her, and stuck out his tongue.
You killed my parents, Ky said conversationally. He could not hear, but he could no doubt figure out what she might be saying. You killed my brothers, and my uncle, and far too many people I cared about, including the ones I didnt know. She had him braced against the bulkhead now, immobile. Gerrys little girl, she went on, as her utility knife widened holes the frangible rounds had made. Gerrys little spoiled bitch, I believe you said. You were going to have fun with me, you thought. And now the knife had opened the front of his suit, along the seam, and she ran it up under the helmet seal, up through his chin, through his tongue, through the roof of his mouth.
And his eyes went blank. And she was covered with a disgusting mess, and the mine was still there. The surge of exultation, this time mixed with righteous rage, did not diminish so much as she pushed it aside. Later. Later to savor that kill, but nownow for her ship.
She eased slowly back toward the mine, brushing the vacuum-frozen flakes of Osmans mortality off her suit, and examined the device. A standard, sturdy, inexpensive shaped-charge limpet, one of the several varieties theyd studied. Her EMP had fried its electronics, no doubtthe status telltales that should have indicated attachment and arming status were blank. If it hadnt been attached, then she could move itslowly and carefully. If it had, trying to pull it off would trigger the pressure-sensitive override. One standard method of determining attachment involved a short blast of compressed gas, but she had none. Exceptshe did: the emergency buddy-breather built into all pressure suits to allow partners to share air if necessary.
In this model the auxiliary supply tube had a safety interlock, which took her long seconds to disable, but at last she could direct a stream of air at the base of the mine. It quivered . . . then slowly slid across the deck. Ky let out her breath. Not yet attached. Not yet attached usually meant not yet armedto the military anyway. Who knew what Osman had done? She used the tip of a finger and the slight current of air to tip it up, letting her see the critical undersurface. There, the nonelectronic mechanical switch showed orange. Prearmed, not fully armed. Unless Osman had changed the settings . . . but she didnt think so. She could disarm it . . . but just in case, that would be better done somewhere else, with the charge aimed somewhere other than her ship.
Slowly, she nudged it down the escape passage, its deadly undersurface pointed away, past Osmans corpse, now bumping on the overhead. She was about to give it a final push when she realized that would take it toward Fair Kaleen, now lit up but still tumbling.
It would kill her or it wouldnt. Ky reached around and flicked the switch to disarm. Nothing happened. The mine wasor should beinert now. She used the remnant of elastic cord at her waist to secure it to the exterior hatch, facing out, just in case, then pulled the hatch shut, dogged it, put Osmans body in the air lock, closed and dogged the inner hatch, and at last had a moments leisure to consider what she might have done to her crewher familyand her ship.
Somewhere along the passagetherewas a dataport connection. She attached a suit connector, keyed the implant, and asked for analysis.
AUTOMATIC SYSTEM RESET 92 SECONDS. OVERRIDE?Had the fight taken that long? She choseOVERRIDE . Weight landed on her shoulders and hips, then wavered, then returned. Pink snow fell to the deck.ARTIFICIAL GRAVITY FUNCTIONAL. Lights and life support should come back first. Gravity was nice, but the others were more important. She felt a vibration in her boot soles.LIFE SUPPORT FUNCTIONAL. THIS COMPARTMENT ZERO PRESSURE. REPRESSURIZE? Pressurization reserves? DATA UNAVAILABLE. That wasnt good. If life support was back up, she should have access to the life-support recharge capacity, including air reserves.
She made her way to the forward end of the emergency passage. That compartment division had a window into the passage beyond, with a partial view of the rec space. She doused her light and looked in. Red emergency lights onlyand aiming her suit light through the multiple layers of transparent material only gave confusing reflections. A flicker of light, then another flicker.ONBOARD POWER 65%. DEFINE LIGHT PATTERNS. Ky looked at the ships plan her display threw up. Bridge: light displays, one overhead light, controls.REMAINING POWER RESERVE 14.3 HOURS. So . . . the drive was down as well . . . that was a problem. Rec space: she needed to see something. One overhead light came on, showing two tables, someone slumped over a fallen chair . . . not good, not good. If they were all hurt . . . disabledshe would not think dead, though she already hadshe needed to get where she could do some good.
Air up emergency passage, Ky said. The passage filled with vapor; her faceplate fogged, then cleared as its automatic functions dispersed any surface contaminant. Temperature?
SHIP AMBIENT TEMPERATURE 299 DEGREES STANDARD.Her implant thoughtfully provided a scale with normal shipboard range marked across the scale. Within reasonable limits.
Her suit eased its grip as the pressure rose, as the vapor slowly cleared . . . the pink snow now looked like what it was, smears of blood, rehydrated from the inflowing moister air. Finallyit seemed to take forever but was only minutesPRESSURE EQUALIZED. COMPARTMENT LOCKDOWN? Reverse, said Ky. In front of her, the thick compartment seal slid back into its recess; she could now hear the hiss and squeal and imagine as well the power being used.
She left her helmet fastened, her suit light on. The figure in the rec area was Rafehelmet fastened, eyes closed, but she could see the movement of his breathing. Alive. She would worry about the rest later. Up the passage to the bridge . . . and as she passed her cabin, she heard the sharp imperative yips of the puppy. She opened the hatch there. Toby, on her bunk, with Stellas arms wrapped around himboth unconscious. The pup, tail wagging vigorously, yapped and scratched at them, trying to wake them up. He growled at Ky, making dashes for her boots, sniffing, backing away, his back hair raised in a miniature ruff.
She probably did smell like death, and not even warmed over. Its just me, she said to the pup, who continued to wrinkle his lips at her. She backed out, closing the hatch behind her.
On the bridge, Lee was slumped in the pilots seat, but stirring, groaning slightly. Ky looked at the boards. Drives: red, no response. Defensive suite: standby. Communications: red, no response. Environmental: yellow, emergency power level only. Personnel: red. Nothing picked up from sensors or implants. But she knew they werent all dead . . .
Drives had to be the first prioritythey needed internal power. She tried automatic restart first, without much hope, and wasnt surprised when nothing happened. Manual restart was a long tedious sequence that led to nothing but the discovery that there was no longer any electrical connection from the bridge engine controls to the drive.
Power consumption analysis?
40% ARTIFICIAL GRAVITY GENERATOR.
Of course. How had she forgotten that? Cut to twenty-five percent, refigure reserve.
28.6 HOURS.
That was something. Not enough, but something.
Uhhhh . . . ow! That was Lee.
Lee . . . talk to me; its the captain.
Don wanna talk . . . my head . . .
Lee! She went around in front of him and unsealed her own helmet. The stench from her suit almost made her gag. Lee, what is it? What hit you?
His eyes opened, the left one bloodshot, his gaze unfocused. Captain . . . when ya ge back? Where . . . we . . . are?
She couldnt see any sign of head trauma but that bloodshot eye. Were where we were, Lee. Did something hit you?
In . . . side. Spike in my head. His gaze wandered past her, then focused again. Thought you were outside
I was. Im in, intruders are dead. Ships got some problems.
Others?
Unconscious, the ones Ive seen. Havent been everywhere yet. The drives down; I cant get it started. But we have air and some gravitydont try to get up, I had to cut it to conserve power.
He looked pale and slightly green now, and gulped visibly. His eyes sagged shut. Feel . . . lousy. Whats that stench?
Just stay there, Ky said. Ill be back.
Said that last time . . . , he said; then his head lolled and he was out again.
But he was alive. She opened the door to her cabin again, and again Rascal rushed her ankles, bravely but uselessly. Toby was stirring uneasily; Stella didnt move.
Toby, Ky said. Toby, wake up.
His eyes opened slowly. KyCaptain?
Yes. Are you all right?
ImImalive.
Which is good. Hurt anywhere?
My head . . .
Stella groaned and started to roll off the bunk; Ky steadied her. Her eyes opened. This is the worst headache I have ever had . . . Ky. Is it over?
Not entirely, Ky said. The ship has a few problems. Just stay where you are, for now.
Toby blinked several times. Im . . . I could get up. Then his gaze locked on to the front of her suit. Captainyoure hurt
Not my blood, Ky said. She had left smears on Stellas suit, she now realized, and a smudge on the edge of her bunk.
I really could, Toby went on. Help, I mean. I have a headache, but its going away now.
Letm go, Stella said in a slurred voice. I nee slee . . . and she, like Lee, went limp again.
All right, Ky said to Toby. But leave your helmet on and locked. Ship systems are coming online very slowly, and our power supplys limited.
But yours He stopped himself. Can I bring Rascal?
Sure, Ky said. Just dont let him bite me. He doesnt like my smell.
But with Toby awake, the dog was more interested in licking her boots than biting her ankles . . . gruesome, Ky thought, suggesting that somewhere in the dogs ancestry was not a boys best friend, but somebodys worst nightmare. Toby fairly bounced down the passage in low g with the resilience of youth.
I could fix something to eat, he said, as they came into the rec area. Rafe was still sprawled over the fallen chair.
Were conserving power, Ky reminded him. Help me move Rafe. That was easy enough in the fractional gravity; they stretched him on the padded ledge along the far side of the compartment, on his side. His eyelids fluttered but didnt open.
They made their way then to Environmental. In the dim light, suit lights flashed. Mitt, Ted, and Mehar . . . Mitt and Mehar both with pistol bows aimed at Ky, until they recognized her face in their headlamps.
What happened, Captain?
I made some mistakes, but we still have a whole hull and clearly you people have life support working.
For now, Mitt said. Did they set off an EMP mine? Is that why we lost power?
It was an EMP mine, but I set it offone of the intruders was setting up a limpet inside the ship. Only way I could think of to disable its programming before he could set it off.
Well . . . we also lost a few circuits in life support. I gather the drives down? And how are the others?
Some unconscious, Toby heres fine, I havent checked everyone yet.
Mustve been quite a fight, Mehar said, nodding at Kys suit.
It was . . . strenuous, Ky said. Her back was beginning to tell her how many times shed tried to tie it in a pretzel. She ignored it.
How many of them were there?
I think three, Ky said. But let me check everyone else first; we can tell the stories later, when the ships back up.
Want help?
Yes, Ky said. Number two cargo and Engineering will be the worst, they were closest to it.
Mehar came with her; they found Engineering dark and silent. She looked around. On the far side of the compartment, a heap of bodies. As she watched, one of them rolled over, shook its head and looked up. Jim.
What happened, Jim?
He shook his head, pointed to his ears. Blast damage? Ky came closer, and spoke directly to his face. Can you hear me at all?
A . . . little. Scared theI didnt know what happened, Captain. Quincy ran over here, said get down, and then everything blew up.
Not everything. Were still in one piece. The others? She was already checking them for pulse, for any visible injuries.
Dunno. I just woke up, kinda His voice sounded strange, uninflected. Quincy was underneath the pile. She, Alene, and Cele were all unconscious, but alive. Ky relaxed slightly.
Lets get Quincy to the medbox, she said. Jim nodded, clambered up, staggered a moment, then steadied.
Low grav . . .
Yes. Were saving power. Mehar, you help me. She didnt trust Jims balance. In the light gravity, Quincy was easy to lift and carry. They were halfway to the alcove where the medbox was installed when Ky remembered that it wouldnt be functional now.
On second thought, well just put her in her bunk, Ky said. Weve got to get the drives back up. They tucked Quincy into her bunk, and Ky hoped for the best, then checked on Sheryl. The navigator had been in her cubby when the mine went off; she was just rousing and claimed a mighty headache.
Now for the cargo spaces. Ky dreaded what she would find. Number two was as dark as Engineering had been. Again Ky ordered on the overhead lights . . . there was the weapon, chocked up to point at the emergency passage, and a large hole in the bulkhead beyond it. The stench of melted plastics made it through the suit filters. Martin lay sprawled a few feet away, alive but unresponsive.
Number three wiring nexus, Ky said. Damn. If were lucky, that explains why the drives dont come on. Lets get Martin up near the medbox. If she could get the power back on, he and Quincy would have to take turns. She called Jim and Mehar to start working on the damage as soon as they were able.
When she had made the worst cases as comfortable as possible, she went back to the damage site, where Jim was poking at the melted mass of the hold 3 nexus. Going to be a bitch to fix, he said. Or we could just cut it all out and start over.
And how long will that take?
On a ship this size, with the shop and equipment we have? Maybe a day. Maybe two.
She didnt have a day or two. None of them had a day or two.
Can you patch controls onto the drive end of the mess? In a few hours?
Uh . . . She could see the desire to show off warring with his awareness that soft soap and bragging wouldnt work this time. Maybe. If I had help. I knowsorta knowmost of it, but
Toby, do you know how to patch in controls?
I know the main functions, but not the auxiliaries, Captain. But is there a reference manual in your implant?
Was there? She still had not had time to access the special functions. Get started on the main functions, the two of you. I want the insystem drive up enough to give us onboard power. Then we can worry about the rest. Use anything in stores you need.
In her mind the enemy warships moved ever closer, targeting her with weapons against which her defense might not hold even if it were up. With the crew all accounted for, she headed back upship. Rafe had managed to sit up and blinked as she checked him. Did we win? he asked.
So far, Ky said. How are you?
Headache. My implant tells me it was scrambled, but its recovering functions.
Good. Toby and Jim could use your help down in Engineering. Can you make it there?
Yeah. I think. He stood, wavered, then headed for the exit without another word. Ky watched him a moment, then went to her cabin.
Stella was up, too, slumped against the bulkhead. Wheres Toby? she asked.
Down in Engineering. You?
Do you have any idea how bad that smells? Stella wrinkled her nose.
Yes, Ky said. But I cant clean up yettheres other problems.
Always other problems, Stella said. She sighed, pushed herself more upright. So what can I do to help?
Feel better, Ky said. I need some clear thinking from my staff. We have only reserve powerthe insystem drives down. Osmans dead, but his allies with the big guns are out there somewhere and we dont have scan.
Where are the mercs?
I wish I knew, Ky said. I hope theyre coming to help, but I havent heard from them in . . . a long time. When Stella said nothing, she turned away. I have to get to the bridge, she said. Itll be good news if the lights come on full.
Fiat lux, Stella said. But we have a hull, and air, right?
Right.
And Osmans dead. So we won.
A battle. Not the war.
Youre such an encouraging commander, Stella said.
Thanks, Ky said. I try.
On the bridge, Lee also was awake. His left eye looked more normal now, and he was working his way across the boards. Drives not responding at all, he said. Theres a disconnect somewhere.
Number three nexus, Ky said. Slagged. Engineerings working on it.
Mmm. Can I have some power for scan?
She had to know where other ships were. If nothing else, a large ship was wobbling around not that far from them. She also needed communications. Yes. Just let me She plugged her suit interface into the dataport and instructed her implant to supply power to the communications and navigation boards. Their status lights went from red to yellow, and finally to green. Lees screen lit with the current nearscan passive data. Fair Kaleen still rolled erratically in the near distance. Three other icons appeared, two whose position and courses were compatible with Osmans allies, and oneher heart liftedwhose icon already carried the Mackensee ID. Only one? But of coursethey would not have left the rest of the convoy unprotected.
Ky flicked on the communications board to the prearranged frequency.
Gary TobaiGary Tobai,come in.
Gary Tobai, Ky said. Bogies insystem.
Copy. Not a problemtheyre boosting out. Your condition?
She didnt want to let the enemy know that, not even if they were running. Later, she said. Dyou have an experienced boarding team?
A boardingwhats going on? Then another voice. Rig secure contact. Give us a visual.
Cant do that right now, Ky said. We have a few problems.
This is Captain Vatta?
Yes, this is Ky Vatta. We have disabled Fair Kaleen and I intend to claim it, but I do not have personnel experienced in boarding operations.
Youyour crew?
All alive. Can this wait until youve seen those raiders out of the system?
Oh, well see them out . . .
A distant hum . . . and suddenly the lights came full on. The internal com crackled, then produced a loud drone, then went silent. Then Rafes voice: Calling the bridgecan you hear me? He sounded normal.
Yes, Ky answered.
Good. Drives up. We have it patched into the #2 nexus temporarily. All diagnostics show it nominal at this end, so I went on and turned on the lights. Jim and Toby are working on attaching the bridge-end connection.
Hows Quincy? And Martin?
Still out . . . Sheryls keeping an eye on them.
Mmm. Nothing she could do about that now, although since they had power again . . . Can we draw normal power now?
If the connections to whatever arent messed up. What do you want?
The medbox, for Quincy and Martin.
Can do. Shall I send Alene up to help move her?
Yup. Well be drawing bridge power for a secure comlink.
Want to use . . . mine?
I . . . youd let me?
You know about it already. Security matters. Its secure, and Ive got a power source right here. Cuts the message lag.
Yeah . . . Ky thought a moment. Can Jim and Toby handle the rest of that?
Yes. Jims got a knack, and Tobys read and memorized every manual on this ship, I think. The boys got potential. Between them, they could probably make a functional ship out of drink stirrers and rubber bands.
Then yes, thank you, and come to the bridge.
Right away, Captain, maam.
       
       
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
By the time Rafe reached the bridge, Ky had the scans on full power. The defensive suite had come back on its own when the system resets were complete. She now had exact vectors on the two raiders and the Mackensee ship; the raiders icons showed them boosting, but they would still pass near enough to take a shot at her if they were minded to. Fair Kaleen, rolling drunkenly, continued to block them at unpredictable moments, but that was not protection she could count on. At least they were far enough away that they were not in danger of being struck.
Lee, perhaps youd go down and show Jim and Toby what controls you need first, Rafe suggested as he came onto the bridge. If thats all right with you, Captain . . .
Yesunplug your board, Lee, and take it down with you, Ky suggested. They know wiring, but they dont know piloting.
Ill need scan access, Lee said. I cant pilot blind.
I understand, Ky said. But just give them some hintsmake sure they dont power up the wrong component or something.
Lee shrugged, unplugged his board, and set off down the passage.
Thanks, Rafe said. Nowwell need to set up the visual
You can do visual?
Yeah. Rafe pushed back his helmet, unsealed his suit, and reached inside, wrinkling his nose as he did so. Bit of a whiff about that suit, Captain, if you dont mind my mentioning.
I know, Ky said.
You might want to clean up before the mercs see it.
Im sure theyve seen worse, Ky said.
He stopped and looked at her. Are you performing some religious ritual of self-punishment, or is there something else I dont know?
Her patience snapped. Like perhaps I have not had one second since I got back aboard without something critical for me to do? You, and the others, were all unconscious and all the ship systems were down.
Everyone? His brows went up, and he continued to dig about inside his pressure suit, finally coming up with a length of cord Ky recognized as a connector of some sort. He tucked it into his wristband, then took his helmet all the way off and set it in Lees seat. He pushed back his hair, peeled back the flap over his implant access, retrieved the cord, and inserted one end of the connector into the implant orifice. I didnt know that.
Everyone, Ky said, fascinated.
Rafe glanced at the scans. Theyre four light-minutes out; youd have time to clean up now. Ill call if anything happens.
This time she felt a wave of exasperation. Why do you care how I look?
First impressions are important in anything, he said. Right now you look like a bloodthirsty, violent killer, not a nice sane tradeship captain of good family.
Ky grinned; she was aware again of those surges of pleasure shed felt when killing. I am a bloodthirsty, violent killer. I told you that before.
Its not funny, Rafe said, shaking his head. Im serious. Your mercs werent happy with you staying behind in this system anyway. You need them to see you as sane and sensible, which is what you really are.
It was not the time to make her point, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Im both, she said. But your point is taken. She turned on her heel and headed for her cabin.
Stella was dabbing at blood marks on the carpet; she looked up when Ky came in. Situation?
Improving, Ky said. Im actually going to clean up a bit.
Thank you, Stella said, with feeling. Ill go to the galley, then, and start heating some soup or something. Her nose wrinkled, and she was pale.
Ky started to get out of the pressure suit, then decided it would be easier to clean under the shower. A hard vacuum would have been easiest, but that wasnt available without going out past Osmans corpse. The shower sluiced off the worst of the mess on the suit; she cycled it twice, then peeled out of the suit and her shipsuit and ducked through the water. She could still smell Osmans death, but less. The drying cycleinto a clean shipsuit from her cabinshe looked at the pressure suit with distaste. It was damp from the shower on the outside, and sweaty on the inside. She hung it over her shoulder and made it back to the bridge in five minutes.
Rafe glanced at her and murmured, Your hair.
Ky raked at it with her fingers; he winced dramatically but said nothing more about it. Instead, he pointed to the cables hed attached to the bulkhead outlet, her deskcoms output, and his implant. You can use your own com as usual; the video pickups just the same. Ive already entered the initiating codes for the ansible hookup, and the device itself is live right now. I cant move around much; I need to be attached to the power supply.
Right. Ky sat in her chair, the pressure suit draped across her lap, and glanced at the scan screens. The two raiders were still boosting for jump; the mercenary ship had gained on them. She entered Gloucesters ansible-access number. Instantlyso it worked!her com screen lit with theINITIATING CALL icon. She glanced at Rafe; he looked blank and said nothing. She guessed he was monitoring the ansible function.
Gloucester. No visual. They should have her visual.
This is Captain Vatta of Gary Tobai . We have established a secure link now
Captain Vatta. The screen now showed the Gloucesters com officer and Lt. Commander Johannson. Whats your status?
Were repairing some damage, Ky said. Ships stable at this time, all personnel alive.
Do you need immediate assistance?
Not immediate, Ky said. Fair Kaleenis damaged; I dont know her crew status. Her captains dead
What happened?
He had boarded my ship and was setting a mine, Ky said. I killed him. Again that surge of joy she must conceal, stronger now as she had time to reflect on it. Anyway, Fair Kaleen appears to be tumbling, and if shes not to be lost, I need a boarding team to go aboard and get her back under control. We dont have any way to get over there. Then a prize crew
Prize crew. He scowled at her.
She was a Vatta ship. She was stolen. Im taking possession in the name of Vatta Ltd.
You do recall the details of our contract, do you not? You agreed not to act on that letter of marque.
She had forgotten that letter again. Im not doing this as a privateer; Im doing this as Vatta. The ship belongs to Vatta; Im taking her back.
I see. He did not sound convinced. Whatever you think, Captain Vatta, this is skirting very close indeed to breach of our agreement. Privateers take prizes. We do not. We will not jeopardize our status as legitimate mercenaries by taking a prize or putting a prize crew aboard. We will, however, board the ship and attempt to stabilize her, and take prisoner anyone on her. If you can then arrange a prize crew out of your own, we will transport them in a pinnace to the other ship. The only reason I agree to that much is the Vatta ID of the ships beacon. If a court decides shes stolen property belonging to your family, thats different. I reserve judgment. Is that clear?
Quite clear, Ky said. Thank you.
Meanwhile, he went on, it seems important to chase these two all the way to jump, if they were involved.
They were, Ky said.
Ahalso part of the conspiracy against the ansibles, you think?
Definitely.
Any objection to our taking them out?
Ky thought of stating the obviousthe two-to-one oddsbut refrained. None at all, she said.
Well be back in a few hours, he said. Then the Mackensee ship vanished from scan, only to reappear in a tangled web of uncertainty bracketsVECTOR UNKNOWN, VELOCITY UNKNOWNthat dissolved to show it in the perfect position to fire up the sterns of the fleeing raiders. One blew almost instantly; the second produced a burst of acceleration thatless than a minute laterended in another explosion.
Ky caught another whiff of her pressure suit. She would want it when she went aboard Fair Kaleen, and shed prefer it dry and clean. It needed its internal powerpak recharged, as well. She was unlikely to need it immediately, with the raiders gone. She hung it back in its locker, hooked up the cable to the powerpak, and set the self-clean cycles to maximum.
The Mackensee ship stayed in the vicinity of the explosions for more than an hourlooking for survivors, Ky assumedwhile her own crew continued to work on rewiring the drive control panels. She spent the time finally exploring her implants data structure.
It was tempting to exploreFAMILY FILES and see what her father had said about her, but she searched the files for more on Osman instead. And there it was: what she could have known ahead of time if shed not been so reluctant to insert this implant. Her father suspected that Osman had killed his own father, though it could not be proved. Certainly he had lied, embezzled, and made sexual advances and threats to crew. He had inherited his fathers shares of Vatta; he was going to be trouble no matter what they did. Her father and uncle, then the company troubleshooters when their father Arnulf was CEO, had been given the task of taking care of Osman. For a cash payment, Osman had been persuaded to give up his shares. He had decamped with a ship, and they had not prosecuted, on the grounds that they didnt want him that close ever again. Osmans section ended with her fathers recommendation that any Vatta captain coming across Osman take extreme precautions and report anything learned to HQ. Ky scowled. Someone should have blown him away years ago; it wouldve prevented a lot of trouble. And she would like her father to have known that she was the one who ended that threat to the family.
Ky turned from that to the section headedPOLITICAL . Osman might not be their only enemy.
INTERSTELLAR COMMUNICATIONS. Under that heading she found subheads: Contacts, Policies, Negotiations, Potential Conflicts. That looked promising.
Lee came back up the passage with his board, glanced at Rafe and the extra cables in the bridge, and slid into his own seat without commenting or touching any of them. He plugged his board back in. All right to test functions? he asked.
Go ahead, Ky said. Her implant followed along the test patterns, offering her a choice of views. Then, as time passed, she checked on the medbox. Quincy, the medbox reported, was physically stable, but had suffered some blast damage, probably due to her age. Consultation with advanced medical care for long-term therapy was advised. Ky told Alene and the others to take Quincy out and put Martin in the box. She would have liked to check on them both herself, but she had to stay on the bridge.
With the drive now fully functional again, Ky warned her crew and instructed the ship to bring the artificial gravity back up slowly. As she settled deeper into her seat, she felt the aches from her exertion. At least she was sitting down.
Her screen came alive again, a call from the Mackensee ship. We got both of them; weve picked up several prisoners. Your ISC rep will probably want them taken to ISC offices.
Im sure, Ky said, with a glance at Rafe, who still looked blank.
Well be back with you in another hour, her liaison said. Out of communication for maneuvers until then.
Understood, Ky said. She watched as the Mackensee ship disappeared from scan again, reappearing twice on its way back to her. Slotter Key Spaceforce had a few ships with that capability, but not many. She wondered what it felt like, those rapid transitions in and out of FTL flight, and how they navigated. She turned to Rafe. Rafeyou might as well take a break.
He nodded without really looking at her, unplugged himself, and shook his head. Makes my ears feel strange, he said. That and the smells.
Monitoring transmissions? Lee asked.
Something like that, Rafe said. He rotated his shoulders, stretched, and folded back up neatly, catlike.
Stella appeared at the bridge hatch with mugs of hot soup and a plate of ship biscuits. Ky sipped the thick broth, realizing as she felt alertness return just how much of her reserves shed used. Ive already fed the others, Stella said. Toby asked me to defrost one of Aunt Gracies fruitcakes. He hasnt ever had one. She grinned.
Some people like them, Ky said.
Boys that age will eat anything, Stella said. Hes on his third slice.
Stella carried that thing all the way from Slotter Key, Rafe said. I asked her why, and she wouldnt tell me.
I had two of them, Stella said. The command implant was in one
Is that where it was? Rafe said, brows rising.
And I have no idea whats in the other, Stella went on. If anything. Aunt Gracies sense of humor at work.
We need to get the escape passage cleaned up, Ky said. And the air lock, and Osmans body put somewhere.
Why not just space it? Rafe asked.
There will be formalities, Ky said. Ill need documentation. Anyway, I dont want to space it right now. She didnt want to move right now. What she wanted, suddenly, was a nights sleep.
Heat soup, slice cake, clean corridor, move a body, Stella said in an odd tone of voice. My, what my life has come to. Of course, I am still alive, and dont think Im not grateful, Ky. I was very, very glad not to have to play the captive princess close up. And glad you foiled Osmans last ploy, however you did that. She paused. Ky thought of giving a blow-by-blow, but decided against it. But, Stella resumed, when Ky said nothing, when I thought of life as Vattas secret agent, it didnt mean domestic chores. Though it has, as often as not, mores the pity.
Ill get some of the others on it, Ky said. I could use your advice on some of the things Im finding in Dads implant.
Seriously? Stella asked.
Seriously. Youve been homewell, in contact with homethe past four years and I havent. Just a second . . . Ky called Environmental and, after making sure everything was functioning normally there, told Mitt to take over cleaning up the corridor. Its nastyId suggest wearing suits. Theres a body in the air lock; put it in a sealed bag and into one of the cargo holds. Well move it over to the other ship if we can.
Do we have to . . . touch it?
The corpse? Yeswhy? As far as I know, its not infected with anything. And youll have gloves on.
Well . . . Mitt sounded less than eager.
Why dont you let me take care of Osmans mortal coil, Rafe said. If you happen to have body bags.
She didnt. Shed hoped very much never to have a corpse on her ship again, but there he was, dead and in the way. Not standard issue, she said. Can you improvise?
Sure. Ill just go look for something . . . or we could wait for the mercs to show up. Im sure they have body bags.
Rafe went out; Ky told Mitt that Rafe would deal with the body, but might need a help finding the right container.
Oh, weve got some supply sacks that might work, Mitt said, sounding more cheerful already.
Ky thought privately that getting the passage clean would be worse than stuffing Osmans corpse into a sack, but she wasnt going to argue that. Fine, she said.
While the environmental techs worked on cleaning up the passage, she and Stella compared implant headings.
I dont have ship functions, Stella said. I told you that before. Mines optimized for financial analysis and contact information.
Who do you have at ISC? Ky asked. Ive got about fortyeverything from . . . uh . . . Mirellia Coston, executive assistant to the Slotter Key main repand her, too, of courseto Lew Parminer. I remember him; he came to Corleigh several times.
Forty? I have both of those but only a few more. Do you have Rilendo Varise, in Outside Contracts?
Yes. I wonder why Dad kept Louise Sims-Delont in this listshes just a file clerk. Even as she said that, the implant unpacked the reasons and displayed them. Louise Sims-Delont had been too willing to look something up for him five years before, a willingness he interpreted as a possible security leak for the relationship between Vatta Transport, Ltd., and ISC.
What relationship, Ky wondered, and the implant suddenly flooded her awareness with a cascade of numbers, names, dates, reasons.
Whats wrong, Ky? Stella asked. Ky shook her head; she couldnt answer, not now. Stella reached out, shook her arm. Ky! Answer me!
Had Stella known? Too much information too fast, Ky said. She took a long breath. Uh . . . how much do you know about the relationship between Vatta and ISC?
Relationship? We depend on ISCs communications, like all shippers. Theyve used us as general carriersI dont know what their total tonnage is, but Id say we have a reasonably healthy fraction of their business, perhaps a dominant share on our main routes. Vattas always supported the monopolywe didnt want to risk fragmentation of services and uncontrolled charges. Several other major long-line transport companies have done the same.
Yes, and some have argued for open communications standards and competition. Pavrati, for instance.
Oh, Pavrati. Stella wrinkled her nose.
Its more complicated, Ky said. How much should she tell Stella? How much of their present problems related to the data on her implant, the implant that had been taken from her dying father? This implant, she said finally. Its . . . something we need to talk about at length, I think. In private. If were whats left of Vatta
Theres Aunt Gracie, or was when I left home.
Yes, well . . . The compressed data under that heading was another problem. Ky had found it hard enough to reconcile her memory of the prickly, prudish Aunt-Gracie-of-the-Fruitcakes with what Stella had told her. The Gracie of the implant was several orders of magnitude less familiar. You know she was almost tried for murder?
Gracie? Our Aunt Gracie?
Yes. They finally decided it was postcombat stress and hushed it up when the family put her in the spaghetti farm for a year.
Stellas eyes widened. They thought about sending me to a clinic; Aunt Gracie said no, shed take care of itbut if she . . . why did they listen to her?
Because she had more dirt on both our fathers than you could imagine, Ky said. The internal memos recorded on this implant had more detail on that than she wanted. She wished Aunt Gracie had been there; she couldve argued for her own fathers memory. He had always been so upright, so honest, so sensible; she could imagine he might have been a bit wild as a youngster, but not as . . . the word conniving slipped in and out of focus. Not her father. Not her father, dead after the attack on the Vattas. Or Stellas, though shed always wondered if Stellas wildness came from her father rather than her socialite mother. She was head of Vattas internal securityyou know that, thats the kind of work she had you doing. But she was also working with the Slotter Key governmentwell, part of it, anyway.
You dont suppose she set it upwas working with Osman or something?
No, Ky said, even though the same dire suspicion had flashed through her mind a minute before. The implant made it clear how deep Gracies dislike of Osman ran. Im sure she didnt. But the fact is that all three of us now have to work together, if Vattas to come back . . . or just survive.
We have to survive, Stella said. Theres Toby . . .
Yes. Well . . . Was this the time to admit to Stella the real reason she had resisted using the implant? No . . . no more than she could confess her disgusting joy in the act of killing. Well need to spend considerable time, as I unlock various cubbies in this thing, figuring out what to do about whats inside. That sounded lame, but she did not want to get into the whole thing now. For one thing, she still felt limp. And we dont want to involve Rafetheres a lot of stuff about ISC.
Oh, I agree, Stella said. But hell probably keep trying to worm it out of you. That peeling-a-lime thing She sounded annoyed.
Ky laughed. Im not susceptible to his type, she said. Or any type, at present, she added, more soberly. She pushed away the memory of that brief, crazy dance with Rafe. That was postimplant befuddlement, nothing more.
Dad told me you were involved with a very nice young man at the Academy, Stella said. Its too badbut maybe you can get together when this is over
No! Ky lowered her voice after that emphatic negative. No. Thats over and done with.
Well . . . there will be others.
Not until this was over. Not until she understood more of herself. Not until she found a man who would not be horrified at what she really was . . . and would she want a man who would not be horrified? She was horrified.
Besides, she said, hoping to distract Stella. Hes yours, isnt he?
Stella flushed but shook her head. Come on, Ky, hes not a commodity to be possessed. Besides . . . he wouldnt be mine, in that sense, even if he were.
You said you were attracted . . .
Yes, attracted. But now, at this moment, were busy with something else. Im not controlled by my hormones, you know, whatever my reputation in the family.
Sorry, Ky said. I didnt mean it like that.
Good. Hes . . . interesting, yes. Skilled. But I dont know if hell ever be . . . someone to partner with, long term. I was worried that you might fall for him and get hurt, when all he wanted was your trust.
Never walk in on women discussing men, Rafe said, doing just that. Stella, Stella . . . I dont know whether to be flattered by your interestno one analyzes so minutely someone they care nothing foror appalled at its erroneous conclusions.
Stop that, Ky said, as Stella flushed again. I dont give a flip what your relational strengths and weaknesses are; your timing is atrocious.
My timing is impeccable, as always, Rafe said, settling against the bulkhead. I come bringing peace to your soul, Captain: Osmans corpse is safely stowed for the moment, but retrievable when your mercs show up with proper body bags. Stella, did you know your baby cousin was a very thorough killer?
Im sure she would do whatever was necessary in an emergency, Stella said.
Im sure that his other wounds would have killed him without that stab through the throat to the brain, Rafe said. His gaze, deceptively mild, had settled on Ky; she felt the heat rise in her own cheeks. Thats not just a military cut direct, so to speak. Thats more, isnt it, Captain?
Fatal, Id say, Ky said, trying for an offhand tone. After all, I thought he was dead the first time, when their ship security was breached. It seemed a good idea to make sure.
Rafe shrugged. Whatever you say, Captain.
She was glad to have that conversation interrupted by a call from the Mackensee ship. It was close enough to use conventional communications. I see what you mean about the Kaleen tumbling, her liaison said. Do you think there are any live crew aboard?
I dont know, Ky said. I havent tried hailing her since the running lights came back on.
Better tell me what happened, Johannson said.
Ky explained briefly, starting with Osman Vattas relationship to the family and continuing through the full sequence that had ended with his death. Johannsons professional expression wavered several times, but he didnt interrupt. She was glad of that; she could imagine his comments on her idiocy in letting those boarders through the lock.
So . . . you fired an EMP mine inside your own ship to scramble his mines electronics? was all he said at the end.
Yes, Ky said, and clamped her teeth on justifications. She didnt need his approval anyway: it had worked.
And his lock was disabled by the combination of your EMP mine and his limpet
Yes.
Interesting. She knew that interesting wasnt as mild as it sounded. Well be sending a pinnace with a boarding party to . . . uh . . . Fair Kaleen. You might want to back off another thousand klicks or so, just in case. Can you?
Oh, yes, Ky said. She glanced at her pilot. Lee, back us out.
Glad to, he said.
Ky followed that exploration by relay. The Mackensee boarding party found that the main-entry air lock was too damaged to function, and the entry passage was still open to space. However, inner compartment seals had shut when the ship systems reset. They rigged a temporary air lock and convinced the ship to let them in. Inside, they found sixteen deadseven in space armor, dead because their suit systems had gone down, the rest not even in pressure suits, victims of decompression. As they worked their way from compartment to compartment, they found a few survivors in those compartments that had been aired up. Some were injured, some not; all were taken prisoner, even the three in a storeroom off the galley, who claimed to be prisoners of the crew.
In the midst, Martin appeared on the bridge. The medbox says Im cured, he said. Sorry I dropped like that, Captain.
You werent the only one, Ky said. Im glad it didnt scramble your brains permanently.
Why didnt you just have Lee shut the ship system down?
Osman had a limpet mine inside the ship, Ky said. This was the only way I could think of to knock out its systems.
Oh. Martin gave her an odd look. You take the big jumps, dont you, maam? And I suppose you killed Osman?
Yes, Ky said.
Very thoroughly, Rafe put in.
Martin, were going to be taking over the other ship, Ky said, before Rafe could get started on that. We need a prize crewyoull be on that, of course, since that ship may have security issues the rest of us wouldnt recognize.
Yes, maam, Martin said, looking more alert by the moment. Theyll have traps in her and such, same as I set here against boarders.
Exactly. I can provide your implant with a layout of the ship as she was built and in use originally. We need a boarding plan as well, and if you have recommendations on crew.
Yes, maam. Ill get right on it.
Johannson called Ky again when his personnel were sure they had cleared the ship to explain what he intended to do with those found. We can sort em out later, Johannson said. Im not having strangers running around loose on this ship . . . they dont claim to be Vattas, anyway.
The engineers with the boarding party began to stabilize the ships tumbling once they reached the bridge. Systems had reset correctly; it was simply a matter of giving the correct commands. In a few hours, Johannson informed Ky that the ship was ready to receive a prize crew.
Shes down on reserve air, as youd expect. Cargo holds are still aired up; our engineers recommend pumping that air into the crew space once youve done something about that air lock. The ship inventory lists useful spares. Here A block of data came across; Kys implant sorted it and displayed it for her.
If we use your temporary airlock, we should be able to get to Section B-Four and put that replacement in, Ky said. Are Kaleens repair bots functional?
Some of them appear to be. You want us to run systems checks on them?
Yes. No sense risking lives if the bots can do some of the vacuum work.
The Mackensee pinnace transported the survivors from Fair Kaleen to Gloucester while the repair bots started work on installation of a new air lock. Ky itched to get over there and see what her command implant could pull up from the ships computers, but she had no way to transfer. Yet. She had to organize a prize crew, anyway. Johannson had made it clear that providing such a crew did not fall within their contractual obligations, and he was not minded to widen them. Minimallyif they did nothing but transport the ship to the next portthe ship would need a commander, pilot, navigator, someone in Environmental, someone in Engineering.
We need a Vatta commanding both ships, Ky said finally, to Stella and Toby. Toby, you know more about ships, but Stellas old enough that station managers might accept her, even though she has no papers.
Captain, why dont you go aboard the Kaleen ? Toby said. This ships simpler. If you left Stella here, and a few of the old hands, she wouldnt have any problems with her.
Its . . . an idea, Ky said. But think of the trouble I got into by leaving this ship even briefly.
This is different, Toby said. That shipnobody here knows her; she needs more crew and more expertise. You should take her.
I agree, Stella said. If youll let me load some of the ship systems stuff into my implant, Im sure Ill be able to do what I must.
I suppose. Already Ky knew this would work. She ran it all as a fast sim in the implant. Yes, it was the best solution. Now to choose who would stay and who would go. She needed Lee and Sheryl with her: they could set up a tape for Gary Tobais crew to follow. Martin, of course. That meant Alene had to stay on here; she would be responsible for cargo. Environmental, she had to have someone from there, and an engineer. Mitt and Mehar, she decided. Rafe, for his expertise with nonstandard ansibles.
By the time the pinnace came back toward Gary Tobai, she and her prize crew were suited up and ready to leave. On scan, the pinnace edged closer and closer.
Then came another call from Johannson. My people say theres a limpet mine on your outer hatch.
Oh . . . yes. She had forgotten about that. Thats the one Osman tried to blow up the ship with.
Facing out . . . is it armed to repel boarders?
No, Ky said. That just seemed a good place to store it.
To store your enemys mine . . . any particular reason why you didnt just give it a good shove out the hatch?
I didnt want to hit the Kaleen with it, Ky said. Besides . . . a mine is a terrible thing to waste.
       
       
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Along silence, during which Johannson turned dull red and appeared to be having trouble breathing. Then a harsh bark of laughter. Captain Vatta, youyou are indeedinteresting. Well send the pinnace to ferry you and your prize crew aboard.
Fair Kaleen,up close, looked even more battered than in the external vid pictures. The damage Osmans limpet had done to the air lock, for instance. That was going to be expensive to fix properlythe implant gave estimates. The repair bots had welded a replacement in, roughly, but it was not the kind of work Ky wanted on any ship she owned for the long haul. Once into the crew quarters, she found not the squalor she had expected from an outlaws ship, but a tidy, workmanlike arrangement, marred only by stains from the recent conflict. The bridge, easily three times as large as Gary Tobais, resembled that of the ship she had apprenticed on, but with the addition of an extra row of boards.
Weapons, her merc escort pointed out. Hes taken out part of two cargo holds to mount them. We havent checked them all out, but I wouldnt hit those red buttons unless you want to kill something. We didnt inventory the munitions, either, but the hold hatches had warning labels on them. Weve checked out the bridge for booby traps and have discussed the rest of the ship with your security command. He glanced at Martin, who nodded.
Ky looked at the control boards. Well, she had always wanted to command a warship. This thing could almost be a pocket cruiser, if the holds were full of missiles instead of cargo . . . no question at all that Osman had been a pirate. Which might help when a court adjudicated possession: whatever they thought of privateers, courts always thought poorly of pirates.
Thank you, she said.
Captainenvironmentals salvageable. The cultures are fine; the higher taxons are badly shaken up, but I think we can boost production in the next few days.
Thats good to hear, Ky said. Stores?
The ships supplied for a much bigger crew, Captain, and none of the supply lockers Ive seen so far was damaged. We wont have any problems for another three standard months at least; there are more lockers, but Im not yet sure its safe to get into them.
Good, Ky said. So were good to go, then. Mehar and Toby hadnt said anything, but the drives boards were all green. Quincy, back on Gary Tobai, had said things about idiots who went off to strange ships with greenies for Engineering crew, but she was still recovering from her blast injuries, and Ky wasnt about to put additional strain on her. Quincy had finally subsided when Ky pointed out that Stella, as a completely inexperienced captain, needed the best engineer on Gary Tobai .
The Mackensee boarders had already tested the communications, ignoring the box they didnt recognize, which Ky knew was the ship-mounted ansible. Now she called up Johannson.
Were ready to go as soon as your people are back aboard your ship, she said. Well be rejoining the convoy after jump, correct?
Correct. If your navigator is at the board, Ill transmit the coordinates
Go ahead, Ky said, nodding at Sheryl.
Were on our way, the merc escort said. See you somewhere else, and good luck with this thing.
Well be fine, Ky said, with more confidence than she actually felt.

At last they were on the move. On Osmans excellent military-grade scans, Gary Tobai boosted for jump ahead of them, crawling along at less than half the acceleration Fair Kaleen could offer. Ky was not about to go off and leave her first command, though. Behind them, the Mackensee ship loafed along, keeping watch behind, weapons live. Ky kept Kaleens locked down. In those hours, Kys implant explored the ship and her data banks, easily circumventing Osmans security routines: at root, the ship was Vatta, purpose-built for Vatta, and her deepest levels of programming gave anyone with the Vatta command dataset complete access to anything added later. Ky was able to tell Martin exactly where physical traps were located, and how to disarm them.
The cargo holds with the weapons held ample munitions for them, Ky found. In fact, the modifications Osman had made to the ship cut down her cargo capacity to just over half again as much as Gary Tobais . . . she would be uneconomical as a pure trader without ripping out all the changes. But as a privateer . . . she was perfect, except that the universe knew her as a pirate. She needed a new name, a new ship chip, an identity unsullied by Osmans years of criminal activity.
And what was in the other holds would easily pay for that new identity . . . the cream of a half dozen piracies, at least. Osman had kept all the compact, highly valuable prizes: luxury items such as jewelry, art, bioassays, implantsimplants taken from interesting prisoners. Some had been downloaded into his own ships computer, and some awaited that treatment. He had reloaded salable data onto data cubes; a good part of his profit for the past dozen standard years had been from the sale of proprietary information gained from such implants, she found when she looked at his records. Pirate he might be, but he kept financial records like any other businessman. He also had a store of ship-mounted ansibles for sale to potential allies in the war against ISC.
Ky mused on this as Rafe went to work on the shipboard ansible console. Should she tell him about the others? No harm, probably.
Theres about a dozen of these things in the hold, she said conversationally. Rafe looked at her.
Like this?
Yes. According to his internal records, he used to have more, but sold some. Do you need to know to whom?
I suppose I should, Rafe said. But that cats well out of the bag by now. I told them two years ago . . . but they wouldnt listen. He turned back to his work. By the way, do you think Osman was the only reason Vatta was attacked? Was he just working out his grudge while helping his allies?
Im not sure, Ky said. If they were looking to make an example of a shipping firm to put pressure on the otherswhich is what some of the other captains at Lastway thoughtthen Vatta is reasonably conspicuous and has supported ISCs continuing monopoly in the past. Osman could have been a blessing to them, with his inside information and his personal interest in seeing Vatta suffer.
There are other systems that dont like Slotter Key flags in general, Rafe said. I dont suppose you know this, but Slotter Key runs privateers.
Her own letter of marque seemed to be burning a hole in her uniformshe was very glad Rafe was looking at the consoles internal bits, and not at her. I had heard something, she said. I wasnt sure whether to believe it.
Oh, its true. Cheaper than enlarging their Spaceforce, I suppose. Privateers support themselves. From our end, we never knew Vatta to be involved in that, but this ship . . . your corporate headquarters disavowed it, but I did sometimes wonder.
You . . . knew about Osman before I did? And you didnt warn me? she wanted to add but didnt.
Not for sure, Rafe said. And if you were making rendezvous with the family privateer, I wanted to know more about it. Now he did look over his shoulder at her. Dont look at me like that, Captain. It doesnt violate our partnershipcheck the termsand I warned you as soon as I knew for certain something was bent.
Small comfort. She tried to think of something to say, but at that moment, Sheryl announced that they were entering countdown for endim transition.
All stations, secure for FTL, Ky said, instead of any of the lame comments shed thought of. Section seals locked. Rafe got off the deck and strapped himself into one of the spare seats on the bridge, while the others acknowledged. Kys stomach knotted. How would the Kaleen handle transition with that crudely repaired air lock? At least, if it blew, only the passage behind it would lose air.
Fair Kaleenslipped through the transition as easily as Ky herself would have walked through a doorway . . . of course, a pirate would keep his ship perfectly tuned. After a brief hour and twelve minutes of FTL flight, during which Ky thought of all the things that might have gone wrong with Gary Tobai and then what might go wrong if any of them reentered normal space at the wrong relative vee, the ship dropped out as smoothly as shed gone in. Ahead of them, Gary Tobai appeared as their scan cleared, and behind them the Mackensee ship dropped out still at the same interval.
Brilliant job, Lee and Sheryl, Ky said. She felt a wave of relief. There on longscan were the other Mackensee ship and the rest of the convoy. No unknown ships in the system. Here, the ansible wasnt working, but Rafe would fix that. She reversed the compartment lockdown.
Ten hours to rendezvous with convoy, Johannson said.
Ten hours. She could not stay awake another ten hours. Who could?
Toby, come to the bridge, please. Toby of the inexhaustible energy. On their present course, with no changes to be made, he could surely keep watch while the rest of them recovered.
Commander, most of my crews dead on their feet. Im going to put us down, and leave one on watch.
Good idea. Call if you need anything.
Toby, with Rascal bouncing at his heels, came onto the bridge. Yes, Captain?
You have the bridge, Toby. No need to ask if he was alert enough; his eyes sparkled with delight. See, I told you youd make captain someday.
Yes, Captain! Ill call right away if anything happens.
You do that, Ky said, and clambered up, stiff in every muscle and joint. Martin had checked out enough of the crew quarters that they could each have a private cabin, though at the moment she was sure she could sleep on the deck in a pile with twenty others.

The captains cabin was half again as large as hers on Gary Tobai . Osman favored black and gray with red accents; the cabin had an odd smell, which she supposed was essence of Osman. Ky kicked herself for not having thought to have the fresher cycle on during those hours on the bridge. She pulled everything off the bedshe was not going to sleep on his sheets. In a locker, she found another setsynthsilk, in black, shiny and slippery. At least they didnt smell like Osman. She threw the other bedclothes in the cleaning bin, turned the cabin ventilation to high, propped the hatch open, and was asleep before she thought to turn out the light.
She woke briefly once, as the light went off, then again when Tobys voice announced that it was time, the time shed said, but if she wanted to sleep longer everything was fine.
Im up, she said. Ill shower.
In Osmans private bathwhich deserved the name, having a tub as well as showershe found the kind of mess shed expected from the first, though most of it was due to the tumbling in zero-G. Smears of green and yellow and pink goo streaked the black marble walls and floor. She took one look and dialed the cleaner bots into action. While waiting for them to get the broken glass off the deck, she rummaged again through the lockers in his cabin. Clothes . . . he certainly liked black. And silk. Silk shirts, blousy silk pants. Shore rig: Vatta uniforms, including an old one worn thin. What must be costumes suitable for different worlds, various colors and styles. Underwearit was a moment before she realized that the underwear could not all be his . . . it was a collection, male and female styles in various sizes, and all of it . . . she shuddered, and put the entire contents into the recycler. Maybe it would have been evidence, but she didnt want to share space with it, even behind a closed door. In one drawer, she found other evidence of his proclivities: restraints, masks, items she almost understood and didnt want to. She opened only one of the zippered leather cases; the array of tools horrified her, and she left the rest untouched.
She found clean towels, black but smelling of nothing but soap, just as the bots announced the bathroom was safe. Her implant informed her that the black marble wasnt really marble, but a tunable crystal; Ky changed it to frosted white. Now she could feel clean . . . maybe. The shower worked as well as her own back on Gary Tobai, and she took extra time to comb her hair in front of Osmanshermirror. That, too, was a tunable crystal; she changed the lower two-thirds to frosted white rather than reflective.
One by one her rested crew came back to the bridge or their stations.
Could we redecorate the cabins? Sheryl asked her.
What, the gruesome murals bothered you? Rafe asked.
Rafe, Ky said. Then, to Sheryl, Of course. Its our ship now. Osmans cabin was pretty grimwere the others bad, too?
Lets just say that Scovalds famous mural of the invasion of Bettany does nothing for my dream life, Sheryl said. Not even when the previous occupant has added his own commentary and sketches to the original. And it smelled like that kind of person had been living in it.
Not nice people at all, Rafe said. I found what I thought was a simple one, plain walls with just a few pinups easy to ignore, but the instant I lay down on the bunk, the sound system came on. It left me in no doubt that whoever had that cabin was someone I do not want to know except over a weapon. At Kys look he nodded. Gone now. Flushed it. I figure you have enough on these people without that recording, and it was the only way to get it to shut up without dismantling the bunk. Which I was too tired to do.
I put some things in the recycler myself, Ky said. And Im tempted to flush the bedding, too.
Oh yes, Lee said. In fact, I did. Im not sure any cleaning cycle would take care of what was on those sheets.
Well, on our next long cycle with nothing much to do, well get all that cleaned away. Theres plenty of crew space; we wont be bored next transit.
I suppose disgust is better than boredom, Sheryl said. And its better than excitement, too, she added. Ill get on it; theres nothing for me to do before rendezvous. Unless youre hungry and want a meal.
Hands went up.
I just hope I dont find Selenki worms or something in the galley, Sheryl said as she left the bridge.
Within the hour, she reappeared with trays; the smell of fresh-baked bread preceded her. The galleys fine, she said. And the supplies are . . . what I suppose pirates can afford. Prepacked from Escalion Catering, their gold-standard rations. I had to bake the bread, that was all. This is like that stuff the luxury liner had, remember?
It seemed a lifetime ago that thered been a fuss over gold-eye raspberries. Yes, Ky said, around a mouthful of warm fresh bread spread with something sweet and crunchy.
I suppose we should share this with the others, Lee said, smearing his bread with a different spread, this one a rich purple.
Already done, Sheryl said. I called em. That silence you hear is people eating rather than talking. She started on her own meal, and silence covered the bridge, too, for a few minutes.
Better than Aunt Gracies fruitcake, Ky said, when she came up for air. She had not realized how hungry she was. We can save it for another emergency.
Which I hope doesnt come too soon, Lee said, stretching. Ah . . . thats good.
As soon as they were close enough, Gloucester sent a pod to pick up Rafe so he could work on the system ansible. While he was gone, Johannson called Ky.
We have another problem, he said. Its your ISC agent, so called.
Rafe? What now?
Weve been running analyses of events since we left Lastway. It looks to us that Mister Whoever-he-really-is has to be the one who set up that trap. Were going to bring him back here when hes done with this ansible, and have a look at his implant.
You cant think that, Ky said. Hes been fixing ansibleshe led us to the ISC conspirators at Lastway.
Its not unknown for conspirators to sacrifice some of their people for long-term gain, Johannson said. To gain your confidence, to gain ours
And then he helped us survive the attack, Ky said.
You say . . . Im not sure youre competent to judge that, Captain Vatta. How else could Osman have known which system wed be in? Nobody at Lastway knew that. How else could he have contacted his allies so easily? I believe Rafe isor wasassociated with ISC in some sensitive position, but the evidence is clear that hes using some kind of clandestine communications device.
You cant just invade his implant, Ky said, all too aware that they could do just that. Hes my crew; hes under my protection.
Im afraid we must disagree on that, Captain Vatta. Your safety, and the safety of others in the convoy, is our primary mission. We believe he compromises that safety. I appreciate your sense of honor where your crew are concerned, but we cant risk it. We dont intend to harm him; well just check out his implant
Rafe would suicide first. Ky knew that, even though hed never said it in so many words. He was not about to let anyone get access to his implant, or to that implant-mounted ansible. Yet she knew that telling Johannson that Rafe would suicide might convince him all the more that Rafe was one of the villains. After all, would an honest man commit suicide just to conceal the fact that he was honest?
Rafe has told me things about his background, Ky said, trying to think what argument might work. There is . . . sensitive material, things that I agree should not be widely known.
We arent planning to publish it, Captain Vatta. Just find out if hes part of the conspiracy. If you wish, I can promise to wipe the record, provided hes innocent.
What would he consider innocence? A bad boy, a remittance man, a rogue company spy masquerading as a petty criminala smuggler, a gambler, whatever else Rafe had used for cover? Hardly.
Do you think Im part of the conspiracy, Commander?
You? That had clearly stopped his train of thought. No, of course not. Young, inexperienced, foolhardy perhaps . . . but not a conspirator.
Fine. Then perhaps you will let me examine Rafes implant, rather than your people. If Rafe would let her.
Johannson looked flustered. Captain Vatta . . . I dont mean to belittle your integrity, but . . . youre a young woman, and this Rafe is a good-looking man.
Oh, for goodness sake! Ky said, falling back on one of Aunt Gracies expressions. I am not a silly teenager, Commander. Yes, Rafe is handsome. So is my pilot. So is one of my junior engineering techs. Im not romantically involved with any of them.
You have no . . . attraction to him at all?
Of course not, Ky said. Hes too old for me, and anyway hes not my type.
Well . . . Ill talk to the captain.
Minutes went by. Lee glanced at her. Handsome, am I?
You know you are, Ky said. In a rugged, sturdy kind of way.
Lee grinned. And which adventure vid are you quoting from?
None that I remember, Ky said. Though I watched plenty of them in my school days. But Im sorry, Lee, you just dont do anything for me otherwise.
Nor expected to, Lee said. Im even older than Rafe. He sobered. You know, though, some of us did worry. Stella was certainly smitten.
I am not Stella, Ky said. And Stellas over it, she told me.
Maybe, Lee said. But he is a charmer, when hes not being an arrogant, sarcastic
He likes to tease, Ky said. Get a rise out of people, if he can.
Youre defending him?
Against what Mackensee suspects, yes. You were there; you know how he was in the crisis. If hed wanted us to lose to Osman, he could have done us a lot of damage.
Captain Vatta Johannson was back onscreen. Are you willing to come aboard the Gloucester when we bring your man in for questioning?
Absolutely, Ky said.
No promises, but the captains willing to hear your argument.
Thank you, Ky said. Youll send a pod?
For you, we send the pinnace, Johannson said, smiling. It seemed to have no edge to it, but Ky wondered.

Rafe was under guard in sick bay, strapped into a recliner, when Ky, Johannson, and Captain Pensig came in. He looked pale and stubborn.
Your captain argues for you, Pensig said. Im not persuaded that a young female, even one with her background and experience, isnt liable to influence from someone like you. Someone like a mess to be scraped off ones shoe, said his tone.
I have no romantic interest in her, Rafe said, not meeting Kys eyes. Shes too young, too nave, and entirely too priggish. Andno insult intendedshe does not meet my standards of beauty.
You were aware of his opinion, Captain? Pensig asked Ky.
Ky shrugged. I told you already. Rafes not my type; Im not his type. I respect his ability, which is considerable, and Im convinced hes been honest with me and true to our partnership agreement. But romance? No.
Our information from the Sabine incident suggests that you are susceptible to young men.
Ky flushed. Hes not a young man to me, Captain Pensig. And I would respectfully suggest that your report from Sabine was in error. The idiot that caused such trouble there was a new addition to my ship, a refugee of sorts.
He was in your cabin
Ky realized that this was being played out for Rafes benefit, as well, and that only increased her irritation. He ran into my cabin without my knowledge, she said. Against my orders to stay in the rec area with the others. Hed never been in it before. She let more of her anger show. Whatever you think, Captain Pensig, I am not a hormonally dominated brainless twit who falls for every pretty face that comes along.
I didnt suppose that, he said. But before I trust my ships and my responsibility to your interpretation of this mans implant data, I want to be sure you will report it without bias.
If he is in fact collaborating with the people who killed my parents and my brothers and the rest of my family, Ky said, I will be glad to tell you.
Very well. Rafe Whoever-you-are, will you consent to having Captain Vatta connect implant to implant to determine if you are the traitor I suspect?
Yes, Rafe said through set teeth. On condition that she swear in front of you all not to reveal anything she finds in there that is not relevant to that one point.
Captain Pensig glowered, but finally muttered. All right with me.
I swear, Ky said. She sat on the matching recliner and lay back.
One of the military medical techs pulled out a cable with identical plugs on both ends. This wont hurt, said one of them, lifting her scalp flap and plugging the cable in. At first she felt nothing but a weird hum on that side of her head. Then the other technician made the connection with Rafes implant.
The sensory analogs of connection flooded her: smells, tastes, textures here and there on her body. Then she had control, a sense of some kind of pipeline . . . and she was in Rafes implant, faced with the hierarchal structure in his organization of his implants data. She could ask him for keys, but keys he gave her could be contaminated. She searched on keywords, values, and finally reached the area containing ISC-related information. Some subgroups were secured even against direct connection. Ky pushed harder.
At her touch, Rafe opened secured subgroups; Ky raced through them trying not to remember anything she saw that wasnt relevant. She needed message logs, to prove he hadnt been in secret contact with Osman and others. There . . . she reached into that area of the implant . . .
And timespace exploded around her. In her implant, the self-repairing modules scrambled to rearrange data, make new connections, build what was required.
Ky stiffened. Was it a brainworm? Was Rafe taking her over? Her vision clouded, and suddenly a strong, unpleasant stench seemed to rush up her nose and make her sneeze.
No . . . desecrations! Dont do that!That was Rafe, but not the Rafe in the recliner. This Rafe was in her head, in the implant. Direct contact through the cable?
No. Function transfer. Dont tell.
Dont tell what? She managed not to say that aloud, opened her eyes (when had she shut them?), and said the first thing that occurred to her. He has some fairly disgusting porn tucked away in there.
Oh . . . not unexpected, said Pensig. What about ISC?
Ky took a deep breath. Well, he is one of their agents. No, hes not a traitor. I got into his message logs for all forms of communication; he drafted everything in his implant. Theres no record at all of any communication with Osman, or to anyone we didnt already know about, between my meeting him on Lastway and our meeting with Osman. Hes innocentof that, anyway.
Youre quite sure?
Yes. What we think is that Osman and his allies have shipboard ansibles
You think thats more than a rumor?
Im sure of it, Ky said. Now if you can have him returned to my ship, theres something Id like to discuss in private . . .
You still dont trust him, then?
This is something that doesnt concern him. Something between usVatta and Mackensee.
I can take a walk, Rafe said, If someone will release me.
When he was released, Rafe asked directions to the bathroom, and left Ky alone with Pensig and Johannson.
Rafe does not know about the letter of marque, Ky said. And I dont intend to tell him anytime soon.
Ah, Pensig said. The letter of marque . . . youre right, we do need to discuss that. This matter of the prizeor return of stolen property. Youll take it to court, of course.
If I do, Ky said. it will be seized and sold for payment of debtsdefaults on delivery and the like. Vatta needs that ship.
Youre planning to seize it without due process?
Not exactly, Ky said. Im just planning to keep it out of the hands of the breakers.
Pensig looked at her a long time before speaking, his lips folded tightly. Im trying to be fair, he said finally. You are young; you have been through a very difficult time. Nonetheless, I have stretched our regulations to their elastic limit and beyond. If you do not submit that ship and its title to proper adjudication, I will have to consider your acquiring it as an act of privateering, which with possession of a letter of marque clearly makes you a privateer. Someone we cannot have a contract with. I can take the rest of the convoy to the next system with a market, but my contract with you is null and void at this point.
You mean we cant come along?
Oh, I suppose . . . Im in enough trouble already . . . but were not bound to protect you.
Sorry, Ky said.
Oh, and you might want to change your ships name, so we dont just blow you away on spec someday.
Ky smiled and said, So, you will transport us back to my ship, right?
As soon as possible, Pensig said. Immediately, in fact.

Back on Fair Kaleen, Ky took Rafe to her cabin, past the appraising eyes of her bridge crew. We have to talk, she said. What was that?
That, dear Captain, was my cranial ansible.
So how did it produce that bad smell in my nose?
A theoretical problem with the tech, Rafe said. The reason there was only ever one. With an implant-to-implant link, if the implant is advanced enough, the possibility existed that the ansible would replicate itself in the linked implant. We now know thats possible.
You mean I
Now have one, too. Yes. He sighed. I should have just blown my head off. I didnt think the theory would hold in real life.
I wish youd warned me, Ky said.
Thank you for not telling them, Rafe said, not responding to her comment. And by the way, I dont really think youre ugly, immature, and priggish. Nor do I think you have absolutely no feelings for me.
Trying it on, Rafe?
He moved closer. I think youre a very accomplished liar, Captain Vatta.
Her heart beat faster, but she kept her voice cool. Thats for me to know and you to find out, Rafe.
And I intend to, Rafe said, closing the distance.
Without thinking, Ky hooked a foot behind his leg, blocked his intended embrace, and shoved; he hit the floor hard and looked up at her, eyes wide, shocked out of his usual pose of amused superiority.
Not like that, you wont, Ky said.
