Halfling Moon (4 page)

"Dragon by the tail," Padi had said,
irrepressible even in this hour of danger.

Pilot Natesa laughed.

"Foolish, are they not?" she asked, seeming
almost merry. "Yet they must be answered sternly, for their
foolishness cannot be allowed to endanger us. Thus --"

She had turned to Quin then, keys in hand
and her eyes serious. Quickly, concisely, she had given him the
board-codes and the key under which the pre-sets had been
filed.

He had his doubts. Especially he had his
doubts about leaving Grandmother behind.

She, however, had brooked no argument.

"The pilot is wise, and I make no doubt,
experienced," she said coolly. "I will remain, as I know the
systems, and may provide back-up."

"Grandmother --" he began, and stopped when
she held up her hand, imperious.

"I know my duty, as you know yours.
Pilot."

There was no answering her in this mode,
Quin knew, yet to leave two -- one of them his Grandmother -- to
face who knew what kind and number of savage crew? How would he
answer his father for that?

It was then that Pilot Natesa placed her
neat hand upon his arm.

"So soon as this small task is completed,
Pilot Quin, we will be away, in the very ship of the Clan, so that
the delm will have no cause to scold either of us for losing it,"
she said softly, her dusky face calm, and a smile in her dark
eyes.

Obviously, the pilot anticipated nothing
more than a few moments' inconvenience. She was his superior, in
rank and in age. And, as Grandmother had said, he knew his
duty.

"They're docked," Padi said, jolting him
back to the here-and-now of his board. A moment later came
Grandmother's confirmation, for his ear alone.

"Our visitors are committed. On my count of
six, Pilot yos'Phelium. One."

Padi hit the in-ship.

"Syl Vor, are you strapped in?"

"I am!" he called back from the cabin he
shared with the twins, who had already been made secure.

"Stay that way until we sound
all-clear."

"All right," Syl Vor answered, amiable as
always. "Do you think Mother will be at the port? And Uncle
Shan?"

"Remember, the pilot told us there was a
great deal of busyness, boy-dear," Luken said, leaning forward and
directing his voice toward the mic. "We shall see them, soon
enough, though. No fears."

"No fears, Grandfather," Syl Vor agreed.

"Six," Grandmother said, calm and
purposeful.

Quin reached to the board, and
Fortune's Reward
dropped away from
Runig's Rock.

* * *

"They're away," Pat Rin's lady mother
said.

"That is well," Natesa replied, leaning over
the back of the chair. The dock light glowed a steady green in the
screen; the hallway she had entered so short a time ago empty and
bright.

"Am I correct in assuming that the hallway
may be filled with something other than plain air?"

"You are," said Lady Kareen.

"It would be simplest," Natesa said, "if
they would fall at once. Do you watch here and when they are fairly
into the hall, release your most potent, non-lethal mixture."

The lady tipped her head, as if she might
question this, as well she might; prisoners were always a risk, and
yet --

"The delm will wish to speak with them,"
Kareen yos'Phelium said, and inclined her head. "I shall do as you
say, Pilot. And yourself?"

"I?" Natesa shook her head. "I will assume
that they are clever enough for suits, and shall be devising a
secondary plan."

The lady was seen, faintly, to smile.

"Very good, Pilot," she said, and looked to
her board.

* * *

The Jump point was coming up.
Fortune's Reward
was steady as she
went. Screens in all directions clear, saving those to the rear,
which showed Runig's Rock, sitting quiet in its little eddy of
space, to all appearances inert.

"Approaching Jump," Quin said, unnecessarily. He glanced to
the rear screens again, hoping to see the second ship --
their
ship -- tumbling away from dock.

What he saw instead, in the instant before
normal space blurred Jump-gray, was a jerk, as if the station had
been hit by space junk, or --

The warning chime sounded, and he brought
his attention to the board.

* * *

They had been clever enough for suits, and
not nearly as careful as she had hoped they would be.

Natesa fell back as they entered the main
hallway through the shattered door, weapons ready, spread out in a
pattern that told her they knew their business well.

She regretted, for a moment, Pat Rin's
mother, then gave over regrets altogether.

* * *

The warning chime sounded, and
Fortune's Reward
was out into normal
space.

Crowded and unfamiliar normal space.

Quin snatched at the controls, bringing
weapons up, demanding answers from the navcomp.

"Padi, grab the beacons, please," he said
calmly, because he was too frightened to be anything but calm.
"Then get the local feeds. We're off course."

A moment's wrestling with the navcomp showed that
they
were
off-course, though not as much as he had feared. More, the
reason was perfectly obvious -- in fact, it surrounded
them.

Surebleak near-space wasn't merely crowded, it was
crammed
with ships. Scout ships, small traders, large
yachts, and a great number of mid-sized craft, not meant for
long-Jump, but well-enough for short trips.

Padi fed him the beacon locations; he pulled
the chart, located port and fed the numbers to the navcomp. That
done, he began to calculate a course of his own, and winced when
Padi brought audio up a little too strong.

"Tree-and-Dragon," someone close said, and
that was -- maybe that wasn't good.

"Kill our ID," he told Padi, and saw the
appropriate light at the top of the board go dark.

He felt Grandfather shift behind him, as if
in protest -- and then still. The pilot made those decisions for
the ship, and Quin was the pilot.

As it happened, he hadn't been quick
enough.

"Message from Tower, welcoming
Fortune's Reward
home," Padi said.
"They request access, and promise a quick descent to the . . . the
boss' own pad."

"The . . . boss?" Quin said, memory
stirring, but failing to fully wake.

"That will be your father, boy-dear,"
Grandfather said from the jump-seat. "The Boss of Surebleak, Pilot
Natesa styled him. You recall it."

Now
he did, at any rate.

Cheeks warm, he addressed his co-pilot.

"Please thank the Tower, and allow
access."

* * *

Tower pulled their files, and routed them
the promised fast drop to port, whereupon they busied themselves
with shutdown, not to full sleep, but to twilight. That had been
Grandfather's suggestion, and while it was undoubtedly a good one,
Quin felt his stomach cramp with renewed worry.

If Grandfather had second thoughts about Pilot Natesa's
tale
now
. . .

Shutdown complete, they gathered the twins
and Syl Vor. By then, the hull was cool, but it seemed that none of
them wanted to open the hatch.

While they were standing in the piloting
chamber, looking uneasily at each other, the comm pinged.

Padi leapt for it, got the bud in her ear,
listened, and stammered, "Yes, sir, at once," she licked her lips.
"Pending pilot's approval."

She turned to Quin. "Tower relays a message:
The boss requests that we open the hatch."

Quin stepped forward -- and stopped, his arm
caught by Luken, who handed him Shindi.

"I'll go first, boy-dear."

Quin looked to Padi and gave her a nod. She
fingered the sequence and the hatch came up.

* * *

Three men in pilot leather stood in the
hatchway. The biggest man was Terran, Quin thought, and he stayed
well to the rear, calling as little attention to himself as a big
man might.

The man nearest --

It was Father, after all! Father wearing a
pilot's jacket, with his hair in need of a trim, and his face
chapped, as if he spent a lot of time out in the cold wind that
blared through the open hatch.

He embraced Grandfather, and Quin looked to
the man who stood a little to the side. That man was . . .
strangely difficult to see, as if he were somehow thinking himself
invisible. Once one had him in eye, however, he was found to look
like Grandmother; dark hair going to gray, and ironic black
eyes.

"Quin!"

Padi snatched Shindi out of his arms and he
was caught in a strong hug, cheek to cheek.

"Quin. Child, I am all joy to see you!"

Father stepped back. Quin sniffled and
blinked, embarrassed to be found crying, but then he saw that he
had no need, because Father was weeping, too.

"Welcome," he said, "to your new home."

He turned, then, holding his hands out to
Padi and to Syl Vor.

"Welcome. Your parents send their love, and
their regret that duty keeps them so long away. Directly, we will
go to Jelaza Kazone, as soon as --"

He raised his head, looking beyond Syl Vor,
as if expecting someone to emerge yet from the interior of the
ship.

Quin gulped, and stepped forward, his hand
on Father's arm.

"She's not here," he said, his voice
wavering.

Father looked back to him, his face suddenly
still. Frighteningly still.

"Is she not?" he murmured.

"There were intruders," Grandfather said,
turning from a low-voiced discussion with the pilot who so looked
like Grandmother. "Truly, the pilot came to us in the very nick of
time, boy-dear -- and stayed behind with your mother to deal with
the problem. Neither would see wolves among the Clan's holdings,
nor would they have us pursued."

"Of course not," Father said, his voice cool
and smooth. His gambling voice, Quin thought. He shook himself,
then, and looked back, to where the big man tarried on the
gantry.

"Mr. McFarland," he said in Terran, "I shall
be returning immediately to Runig's Rock. Pray you take my father,
and our children under your care, and see them safe to the delm at
Jelaza Kazone."

"All right, sir. Daav sitting second?"

"I wouldn't miss it for worlds," the pilot
who looked like Grandmother said, his voice deep and rough.

"I'm coming, too," someone said, as
Grandfather and the rest sorted themselves without question,
preparing to accompany Mr. McFarland.

Quin blinked, recognizing his own voice --
and the rightness of his assertion.

"Oh?" Father considered him, one eyebrow
raised. "By what right?"

Quin cleared his throat, and glanced at the
elder pilot, who gave him an encouraging nod.

"I left them there," he said. "Pilot Natesa
and Grandmother."

"You can scarcely argue the pilot's
melant'i," the elder pilot said.

"Can I not?" Father gave him a cold stare.
The usual effect of such a stare was a glance aside and a bow of
submission.

The elder pilot laughed, then looked to
Quin, black eyes glinting.

"I have the honor to be your grandmother's
brother. My name is Daav. You will address me, please, as Uncle
Daav, as I don't feel able to support Grand-Uncle." He returned his
attention to Father. "Pat Rin, do you go?"

"At once."

"Excellent. I engage to talk the Tower into
giving us a quick lift while you, Pilot Pat Rin, look to your
course. Pilot Quin, the jump-seat for you, sir; you've flown
enough, and there are two here able to relieve you."

Uncle Daav had an oddly decisive way about
him, for someone who proposed to sit second, Quin thought, but he
folded into the jump-seat with a certain amount of relief.

He considered the screens as the pilots
began their work, and so it was that he was the first to have eyes
on the neat, and very familiar ship coming down near to hand.

"They're here!" he cried, snapping upright.
He pointed -- and then froze, looking to Father's face.

"It may not be --"

Uncle Daav touched the toggle and the
general port babble filled the cabin.

"
Shadow Drake
," came Pilot Natesa's soft, calm voice, riding a
wave of argument over an extended wait time. "We are down and
locked. Shutdown proceeds immediately."

From the pilot's chair, a sound between a
laugh and a cry.

"Bother," said Uncle Daav, sweeping his hand
down the board. "I had so been looking forward to a flight." He
sighed, theatrically, reminding Quin of Cousin Shan. "Well, I
suppose one must make the most of it. Shall we go over and display
our manners, Pilot Pat Rin?"

Father gave a long sigh, and reached out to
trigger the final shutdown.

"Indeed," he said, his voice not quite
steady; "we should."

* * *

"It will require Housekeeping," Natesa told
Pat Rin, after they had embraced and he had assured himself that
she was well. "And -- I regret -- there was damage to the Clan's
holding."

"Damn the Clan's holding," Pat Rin said into
her hair, and sighed.

"Such terrible risks, Inas."

"Nonsense," she answered. "And, you know, I
would not have your mother think me faint-hearted, or unworthy of
you."

He laughed at that, which was well, and
allowed her to step out of his embrace, though he retained a grip
on her hand.

Elsewhere in
Shadow Drake's
piloting chamber, Quin sat, palpably
patient, and studying the board as if he had never seen one before.
Daav yos'Phelium lounged against the back of the co-pilot's chair,
to first glance completely at ease.