Lyon's Pride (17 page)

Rojer checked the digital on the wall and decided, as he reset his wrist unit to the local time, that “as soon as
he was settled” included attending to the rumbling in his guts. It was mid-morning here and he was far too hungry to wait till lunchtime.

The dispenser unit was standard Navy; the menu that scrolled past Rojer's incredulous eyes was anything but. Delighted, Rojer watched long enough to discover many favorite and esoteric dishes before he ordered the most unusual item he saw—a high protein described as “genuine beefalo steak” which tasted succulent enough to
be
genuine.
Then
he contacted the commandant's office that he was now settled in.

Donning the button which had been forwarded by pneumatic slot to him, he let it guide him through the maze of corridors and lifts. He knew that the Phobos Moon Base was as many levels deep in solid lunar rock as above it and equally as wide. He figured by the upward progress on which the rating had led him that he was housed in “executive territory” but he made another upwardly mobile short journey to an even more prestigious level, encountering more and more officers of high rank as he progressed—inward now, he thought. Though he was an obvious civilian, he was more often accorded a salute than a smile. Then, as he turned to a set of wide double doors, the node informed him that he had arrived.

The commandant's suite of offices was imposing—on a par with his grandfather's level of the Blundell Cube. He sensed many minds not far away and wondered if stopping to eat a meal had made him late for an important meeting. The handprint pad was conspicuous enough to suggest that everyone put his hand there, so he did. One leaf to the door swung inward to a huge but empty foyer, walls and ceilings impressively decorated with naval ships, sea and space, down the ages.

Damn
, Rojer thought,
I should have made some attempt
to find out this commandant's status in the table of Alliance organization
.

He's not quite as important as Grandfather
, said a very welcome voice,
but he thinks he is
.

Where are you, Thian?
Rojer looked at the many doors leading off this foyer.

Come now, brother, surely that's elementary!

Rojer chuckled and confidently turned to the right-hand one of two double-doored entries. It opened to a huge, well-populated “operations” area, dominated by screens wrapped round the walls, with horizontal plotting boards at various locations on the floor space and two transparent spheres, one of which was fitted out with some internal components. All around the room workstations were occupied and equations and displays flashed their messages to those seated before them. He spotted five with engineering configurations. The room was full of Humans…and Mrdinis…and no one paid his arrival any attention whatever.

Hi there, bro
, said Thian, his voice buoyant with cheerful welcome.
Did you like the beefalo? Smart of you to eat while you had the chance, because the admiral is unlikely to take into consideration that you've done a full day's work already
.

Once his brother began speaking, Rojer located him at the far end of the chamber in a group of evidently highranking naval officers, to judge by their static positions and somber expressions. About them, like satellites, other uniformed personnel hovered, either busily checking notepads or awaiting assignment.

As Rojer made his way toward his tall, self-assured brother, he noted the obvious fact that, while Thian wore a Navy shipsuit, there was an FT&T insignia on his shoulder and the Prime tab on his collar. He also thought his
brother looked a lot older than he had when they had last met. Whenever that was. Ah, yes, when Laria had come home for her birthday. There were subtle changes in his older brother's face and bearing.

Watch the one who's jabbering at me
, Thian added as Rojer made his way across the cavernous room, although Thian gave every outward appearance of total concentration on what was being said to him by a shorter, black-haired man with a strangely taciturn face.
If Prtglm had had the sense to get Human support to destroy Xh-33, Admiral Enarit del Falco, our base commandant, is the man who'd've given it and rejoiced. Del Falco is also extremely shrewd, intelligent and capable. There isn't a thing that happens on this Base that he doesn't know about within seconds. He's got absolutely no Talent so we're safe to say all the things we want right in front of his face. On the other hand, he's got a natural shield as impregnable as a Hive sphere, which is very inconvenient. Even Granddad and Grandmother can't winkle in
.

The admiral turned slightly just then and Rojer gave an inadvertent shudder at the closed face and took the final steps to his brother under the admiral's scrutiny.

“Ah, Admiral, speaking of the devil…” Thian said, as if he'd just noticed his brother's arrival. He raised one arm which he then placed about Rojer's shoulders, squeezing his hand in welcome. And continued a mental briefing while he effected the introductions. “Here's Prime Rojer Gwyn-Lyon, Eng. Mec., top honors—
Yes, you did get top honors today, which is exactly why you got snatched from the quiet of Deneb and Grandma's cottage and thrust into this situation without a chance for a day's rest
—who's assigned along with me to help you penetrate the interior of the Refugee
—That's her official designation, bro. Don't let his manner get under your skin, Roj. He tries that one on
everybody, even Granddad and Grandmother. Got nowhere with them so we have to keep up the family tradition. He doesn't like Talents but he needs the help only we can give him. Fortunately both you and I are independent of his authority even if we are assigned to help.
Good to see you, bro.” And Thian dropped his arm, smiling down at the Admiral in his charismatic way, much as their grandfather might have done in a similar situation.

Having Thian in physical and mental support with so much coming at him all of a sudden made all the difference. So Rojer could smile, too, summoning up what Isthia had called the deplorable tendency of her male relatives to charm as easily as they breathed. Adopting a casual confidence, he inclined his head courteously to del Falco. The commandant did not offer his hand to the young Talent. Instead del Falco gave him such a piercing stare—he had the sort of large black eye that appears to see through to the soul—that Rojer was very glad of his brother's warning.

“Privilege to be aboard, Admiral del Falco.”

“I thought you were younger than your brother.”

“We're not far apart age-wise, sir,” Rojer replied.

Perfect response, Roj. He hasn't had time to read your transcript because we had to wait to see if you passed the exams before we could snatch you here. The team that's going on board the Refugee requires stiff qualifications. You got more than some, less than most. He won't take long to assess you. He's got an info-plant. And he's accessing your file right now. His eyes flicker when he's listening to it. Updates on demand. Don't know why he isn't schizo. Oh, and our birth years are
not
given. Granddad's had dealings with this bird. Just as well you don't
look
seventeen.
That last was said in a rueful tone, acknowledging Rojer's bereavement and its tragic circumstances, and
accompanied by an affectionate mental hug.
Steady on. He's coming up with “the look”!

The admiral was, and in spite of Thian's warning Rojer very nearly rocked back on his heels at the intensity of that black and penetrating gaze. So he smiled as equably as he could until del Falco broke the eye contact, having evidently heard sufficient from his info-plant to place Rojer in the pertinent category.

'Dini coming up behind you, Roj!
his brother said, his tone colored with apprehension.

So Rojer had just enough warning to be prepared when a 'Dini voice spoke.

“
RJR LN, YOU WILL NOT MIND TO WORK WITH GREYS
?”

One of the good guys
, Thian added, smiling at the newcomer.

So Rojer kept the smile on his face as he turned and almost committed a solecism as he began to drop his eyes to the usual 'Dini height. But the 'Dini who had spoken was nearly as tall as Rojer. And not at all like the grey Prtglm.

“
GREY HAS ALWAYS BEEN AN EXCELLENT COLOR
,” Rojer said, using the body language that expressed honor at being in its company while inclining from the waist with the bow deserved by a 'Dini of such size. The memory of Prtglm, or its color, no longer had the power to distress him. “
WHAT NAME, PLEASE, IS ONE TO USE IN ADDRESS
?”

“
THIS ONE IS KNOWN AS GLMTML
.”

“I'm glad that you two Primes have the chance to meet Glmtml,” the admiral said, observing the exchange. “It leads the Mrdini team that's going to reveal Refugee's secrets for us.” A smile that was not a smile but nearly a threat spread his lips just slightly. “Prime Lyon has just arrived, Glmtml, so he hasn't been briefed….”

“Not that Rojer needs it,” Thian said in a bland tone and a shrug of his shoulders. “Straight transfers of carriers to
the Refugee airlock, and then we act as guiding lights. And we rescue when required. You know how many tubes a Hiver ship has!”

Rojer nodded solemnly while the admiral, unaccustomed to being interrupted, hesitated for one beat before smoothly continuing. “…Then there is no further need for delay, is there?” He turned to Glmtml. “Your team is now assembled for transfer?”

“All are,” Glmtml said, deferentially switching to Basic, since the admiral apparently was not fluent in 'Dini.

“Then let us proceed with Operation Illuminate,” and the admiral turned his basilisk stare on the two Talents. He snapped his fingers behind his back and one of the waiting ensigns leapt forward.

The very gesture raised Rojer's hackles. Maybe an admiral had prerogatives a space captain didn't, but the implied absolute obedience to such a discourteous summons rankled.

Why do you think I enjoy baiting him so much, Roj?
Thian said.

“Escort the Primes to their ready room, Ensign.”

“No need for such ceremony, Admiral,” Thian replied. “I know where we're stationed,” and he shot Rojer a mental picture of where they were going—a small room with three Tower couches. The room already had one occupant.

More surprises, Thian?

Thian grinned.
This evaluation operation is going to take all three of us and wish we were more. Let's go. I love 'porting away from him. He hates it and there's not a thing he can do about it since 'porting expedites troop movement.
“My compliments and best wishes, Glmtml.”

Rojer had only time for a similar courtesy before his brother 'ported away. He followed.

That admiral had better watch himself
, said the very
pretty occupant of the room as Rojer and Thian appeared.
He has female officers. Why do I have to creep about the place like an anathema, Thian?

“I told you that you should flaunt yourself, Flavia. This is, obviously, my brother Rojer, who will remember his manners when he stops gawking at you.”

Completely surprised by the sight of such a lovely woman, Rojer willingly held out his hand to touch hers. Green/minty/velvet. Flavia smiled quite gently back at him and then turned with a businesslike attitude to Thian.

“They've got the right sort of beams now, and I think every single marine and Mrdini is festooned with more light cells than Noel trees,” she said as she slipped gracefully onto her couch.

Thian directed Rojer's attention to the huge transparent three-dimensional screen that dominated the wall facing their couches. At the point which Rojer also identified as the main hangar deck of the Refugee, there were three colored globes: blue, green and yellow. Concentrating briefly on that area, Rojer also sensed a large number of Humans and 'Dinis.

“Rojer, I'm supposedly in nominal charge of our part in this operation,” Thian said. “That board'll light up with each centimeter we cover so we'll know where we've been. I know you had a little look round the Refugee…”

“Through a glass darkly, bro, since the inside was still fogged with gas…”

“Since you're so full of engineering honors, you get to hunt for the engine room…”

“I found it before—I think.”

“In the southern hemisphere, yes? Good. My priority is the life-support system which the boffins think might surround the central axis.”

“Are they suited up?” Rojer asked.

“No, the Navy flooded the ship with enough oxygen to fill a volume of enclosed space equal to the size of the Great Sphere, and there's an auxiliary system as backup stuck off in the corner of the hangar. Plus, everyone's packing an emergency breather. The sooner we get the integral life-support system going, the better. The other priority for you is finding out what sort of fuel the Hivers use that'd also be stored in the southern hemisphere of the ship. Flavia,” and Thian grinned at the girl, “is going to penetrate into the queens' quarters and we might need you to switch there, too, Rojer, to figure out how to turn the power on. Mostly we gotta keep track of people who get into trouble, slipping off into tunnels and getting stuck in the small tubes.”

“Like you did on the Great Sphere, huh?”

Thian gave his brother a mock scowl. “I was following orders when I found the larvae.”

“Still comes down to baby-sitting,” Rojer said with a spurious groan.

“I wouldn't let any of the marines hear you put it like that, Rojer,” Flavia said in mock warning.

“Marines can break legs just like anyone else,” Rojer replied flippantly.

“Not with this admiral,” Thian said tartly. “Everybody comfortable? Good, then,” and he pointed to the red light blinking on the com unit, “the boffins are all loaded. Let's hoist 'em up there.”