Ghost Ship (40 page)

“We
are
going, then.” There was satisfaction in her voice.

Val Con shook his head. “
I
am going. You, my lady, will stay here and mind Korval’s concerns—and our daughter.”

“Who’s your backup, then? If I’m staying home to mind the store.”

“I thought to travel quickly,” he murmured, “and leave within the hour. Clonak is gathering a contact team. He expects them to lift out no later than three days from—”

“What you’re saying is that you’re going in without any backup.” The rocker moved more strongly; inside his head, he heard the arpeggio of her irritation. “Someday, we gotta learn better. Why not today?”

“
Cha’trez
—”

“Quiet. Didn’t that little surprise at the dance party teach you anything? Me, I been thinking about it a lot, and I recommend you do the same. For now, I ain’t gonna tell you how stupid it is to go into something like this by yourself, ’cause if you’d take a second to think, you’d figure it out for yourself. What I
am
gonna tell you is you got two options: I go with you—or Beautiful goes.”

He could not risk her—would not risk their child. His rejection was scarcely formed when he heard her sigh over his head.

“My feelings are hurt. But have it your way.” Her hand left his shoulder. He rolled to his feet and helped her to rise, pulling her into an embrace.

“I will take Nelirikk with me,” he whispered into her ear, and felt her laugh.

“That’s a good idea,” she murmured. “Glad you thought of it.”

“Indeed.” He hugged her tight, and stepped back. He slipped Korval’s Ring off of his finger and onto her thumb.

Miri sighed and closed her fingers over it.

“Get your kit,” she said. “I’ll call down to the pilot and give him the good news.”

FORTY

Jelaza Kazone

Surebleak

“Tell Pod 78 to put itself to sleep,” Miri said, trying to sound more patient than she was feeling. “We don’t need it right now, and we’re short on hands.”

“With all respect,” Jeeves answered, headball flickering. “Pod 78 has twice been put off in just those terms; the second time, I overrode its autonomous system and forced it into hibernation.”

“Do it again.”

The headball flashed bright orange, then subsided into a dull glow. Miri eyed it doubtfully.

“There is information that the
delmae
has not received,” Jeeves stated.

“Because I ain’t listening.” She sighed. “All right, I’ll shut up.” She folded her hands on top of the desk and pressed her mouth closed.

“Thank you. I will be brief. What makes this request worthy of the delm’s notice is that the induced hibernation is still in force. Pod 78 is not, in the vernacular,
awake
. This latest contact is from the security core. Pod 78 believes itself to be under attack. It believes that enemies are attempting to subvert it. If it does not receive within three Standard Weeks a deep reset by no one other than the delm genetic of Korval, it will initiate the secondary core security protocol.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

Jeeves’ headball flickered, the orange light dimming to a pale golden glow.

“If Pod 78 does not receive the attention of the delm genetic of Korval within the stated time frame, it will self-destruct.”

* * *

“. . . which we can’t let it do, on account of it being in a high-traffic area,” she finished, and looked at Daav, lounging in the deskside chair; his eyes half-closed like the news had put him to sleep.

Or maybe not.

“When Pod 78 was established, Moonstruck was in a back pocket of the galaxy,” he murmured. “It has since been found scenic and thus we have cruise ships and tourist camps.”

“Don’t we just,” she said glumly. “Might as well set up an ice cream stand while I’m there. Get us some tourist money.”

Daav opened his eyes. “By all means encourage Ms. dea’Gauss to explore the possibility of an ice cream stand,” he said cordially, “but you are not going to Moonstruck.”

“You been listening? Unless that thing gets its ears rubbed, it’s gonna do something drastic. It’s ours to take care of, and it’s yelling for the delm. I happen to be the half of the delm that’s available to take the call.”

“Yes, but you are not the
delm genetic
. Your position within Korval is a social construct. Pod 78’s programming calls for a biologic affirmation. I don’t doubt that a blood test is involved in the reset process, though I will certainly consult the Diaries before I go.”

“Before
you
go?” She shook her head, thinking about explaining to Val Con how she’d sent his parents off to get blown up by an unstable defense module, and not coming up with any good words. “What makes you think I’m sending you?”

Daav sat up straight and gave her a wide, sweet smile. “Because you are a woman of great good sense. Because you have been a captain of mercenaries and understand command. And because, my child, you
are
the delm, and it is your duty to decide upon proper action, for the best good of the clan. Delms spend lives; it is unavoidable. Good delms do not hazard more than the clan can afford, nor do they spend foolishly.”

“Speaking of foolish, what about Theonna—that’s her, ain’t it? The delm who set these things up?”

“Theonna yos’Phelium, yes. I fear her orbit was more erratic than most. To her credit, she did bring the clan through a field thick with thorns, with scarcely a scratch. One gathers from her own entries in the Diaries, and from papers left by others of the clan that it was . . . often difficult to differentiate between a brilliant plan of flight, and a dangerous delusion.”

“And the pods?”

“The pods were, I think, given the times, not an overreaction. The programming protocols might have been . . . somewhat excessive.” He gave her another smile, this one edged with irony.

“On the other hand, only look what her vision wrought on behalf of the clan and our allies, at Lytaxin.”

Miri considered him. “Was she a
dramliza
? Sighted?”

He moved his shoulders. “It may have been that she had flashes of long-sight among her delusions. Certainly, that would account for the overall success of her stewardship. However, that is the past; our concern is the present—and the future.” He rose and bowed to the delm’s honor.

“With Korval’s permission, I will take up this task immediately.”

“Not so fast. Who’re you taking for backup?”

“My intended backup is an expert in these types of systems. If it happens that I am unable to retain his services, I will commission one of the Scout Experts to accompany me. Speed being of the essence, my plans are necessarily fluid.”

Well, at least now she knew for certain where Val Con got every bit of his high-handed charm. Miri pushed herself out of her chair and glared at him.

“You will undertake this task at the command of your delm utilizing all possible prudence,” she told him, going all the way up to the High Tongue—Delm-to-Clanmember. “You will provide yourself with backup and with a plan for an orderly withdrawal. We are not so many that we can afford the loss of one. Nor do we count you the least of us.”

He bowed again, as one accepting his delm’s word, without a hint of irony, “Korval.”

“Right.” She sighed and shook her head. “Just get it done and get back here in one piece,
accazi
?”

- - - - -

“A green and pleasant world,” Nelirikk said, as they broke their march for the meal local time decreed as dinner. “Is it always so chill?”

“Never think it,” Val Con answered. “In fact, I am persuaded there are those native to the world who would pronounce today balmy in the extreme, and perfect for turning the garden.”

Nelirikk sipped from his canteen. He was, Val Con thought, a woodsman the like of which Gylles had rarely seen: bold in black-and-red plaid flannel, work pants, and sturdy boots, with a red knit cap pulled down over his ears in deference to the chill of dusk.

The big man finished his drink and resealed the jug. “This . . . error the captain sends us to correct,” he began.

Val Con lifted an eyebrow.

Nelirikk paused, and was seen to sigh.

“Scout, I do not say it was the captain’s error.”

“Nor should you,” Val Con said, surprised by the edge he heard on his own words. He raised a hand, showing empty palm and relaxed fingers.

“The situation—which might, in truth, be said to be error—is of my crafting,” Val Con said, more mildly. “It was I who chose to land on an interdicted world. Saying that I did so in order to preserve the lives of the captain and myself does not change the decision or the act. Once here, we inevitably accrued debt, which must of course be Balanced. All of which is aside my decision to See Hakan Meltz. At the time, I stood as Thodelm of yos’Phelium, so it was not a thing done lightly. And yos’Phelium abandons a brother even less readily than Korval relinquishes a child.”

Nelirikk was sitting very still, canteen yet in hand, his eyes noncommittal. Likely he was astonished at such a rush of wordage.

Val Con gave him a wry look. “You see how my own stupidity yet rankles,” he said. “I should at least have taken my boots off before leaping down your throat.”

A smile, very slight, disturbed the careful blandness of Nelirikk’s face. “We have both made errors, I think,” he said. “If ours are larger, or knottier, than the mistakes of the common troop, it is because our training has given us more scope.”

Val Con grinned. “
Anyone may break a glass,
” he quoted. “
But it wants a master to break a dozen.
”

There was a small silence while Nelirikk stowed his canteen.

“What I wondered,” he said eventually, “is if we will be able to remove these infiltrators without raising questions in the minds of the natives. There are, so I’m told by the Old Scout, certain protocols for operations on forbidden worlds. If we simply eliminate the enemy . . .”

“If we simply eliminate the enemy, Clonak will have both of our heads to hang on his office wall,” Val Con said. “No, I fear it must be capture and remove.”

Nelirikk frowned, doubtless annoyed by such inefficiency. “If they have established themselves, any removal will cause comment among the natives,” he pointed out.

“Indeed it will—and the least of the sins I must bear for choosing survival.” Val Con stood and stretched. “If you are rested, friend Nelirikk, let us go on. Our target is only a short stroll beyond those trees.”

- - - - -

Clarence had settled into quarters and drawn clothes from stores to replace his, left behind on Surebleak. He’d sat with Theo, pilot and copilot, and they’d worked out the shifts and chores between them. That brought up the cooking schedule, which prompted a trip to the galley to take inventory.

“Always thought of energy sticks and such as emergency rations,” Clarence said, frowning into the depths of the pantry.

“Agreed,” Theo said, pleased to find him of like mind. “We’ll need to take on supplies at our first stop.” She sighed, peering into the pantry around his elbow. “Fresh-baked bread would go good,” she said wistfully.

“Thinkin’ the same, myself. Don’t see the makin’s, though.”

Theo frowned, remembering
Primadonna
. They’d been provisioned by Hugglelans, of course, since they’d been part of the fleet. But Rig’d always kept—the Sweet List, he’d called it, though it wasn’t only desserts that went on it.

“
Bechimo
,” she said now. “We need a list, running live, equal access, command word
grocery
.”

“Done, Pilot. There is an automatic inventory and ordering system available. Shall I tie the list to it?”

“Good idea. Another list, same protocols, not on auto order, command word
wish
.” She looked at Clarence, who was watching her with interest.

“On the wish list,” she explained, “we’ll each put those things we like to have, sometimes, but that aren’t necessary all the time.” She bit her lip, suddenly seeing the white hair and drawn face, remembering the boy who had especially favored the jam-filled cookies at
Vashtara
’s reception buffets. “I’ll put in some of Win Ton’s favorites,” she said.

“Good idea,” Clarence answered, and turned back to the pantry. “So, for daily groceries we’ll be needin’ bread mix . . .”

“Fresh vegetables.”

“Fruit—fresh and tinned. Soup.”

“Tea—” She paused. “Do you drink coffee?” she asked.

Clarence smiled at her. “I was long years on Liad, lassie; coffee wasn’t always easy to come by, even for—at my office. I learned to drink tea, then I learned to like it.”

Theo blinked. “Wait—you speak Liaden, then? No, of course you do! I heard you tell Win Ton that you would—that you would hold his key
as close as kin
.”

“Best thing I might say, to ease his mind,” Clarence said, closing the pantry door and leaning a shoulder against it. “Not that I have kin, mind you.”

“Right. But the point is that you speak Liaden, and I don’t speak Liaden enough to keep myself out of trouble.” She bit her lip, not wanting to give him the impression that she was under the delm’s word, but, after all it had been a good suggestion.

“I’m not good at languages, and Miri thought that immersion might be the course to plot.
Bechimo
speaks High, Low and—was it the children’s language,
Bechimo
?”

“Pilot, yes. I also speak several other languages, and can translate for both of you on-port, via the remote comm, should there be need.”

“That’s good to know,” Clarence said, “but sometimes belt comms get . . . mislaid. Always good to have some idea what folks are talking about, around you.” He looked back to Theo. “You got Trade, right?”

She felt her cheeks warm, but, after all, it was a reasonable question, given that she’d just told him that languages weren’t her strong point.

“I had to have Trade before Father would let me go to Anlingdin,” she said ruefully, “but Trade isn’t as—it’s more like hand-talk.”

“So it is,” Clarence said comfortably. “You’re of a notion to put Herself’s suggestion into play?”

She hesitated. “Would you mind? I mean, if you do—”

Clarence straightened fluidly out of his lean and bowed.