The Bright Black Sea by C. Litka
Chapter 59 Down and Out on Despar
01
A slight, spare man pushed through the artistically carved rustic door and paused to let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the Willow in the Wind Cha House. He searched the room. Only three tables were occupied, so it didn't take long. His eyes settled on me, and drifted my way.
'Captain Litang?' he asked in a quiet voice. He spoke Unity with a slight accent, a drifteer.
I nodded and leaning back on my chair, watched him warily, my left hand had already slipped into the pocket of my jacket while he stood searching the room. My effective range with the darter is not much further than I can swing a billy-blade. I've settled on keeping it in my left pocket, so I could sip cha and still shoot, if necessary.
'My name is Agust Nun. I am a member of a certain Order...' he said suggestively.
'Of Saint Bleyth,' I finished, since he wouldn't.
He nodded with a faint smile, 'I'd like talk to you about the action that Brother Leith D'Lay perished in.'
I brought my little sissy out of my pocket – I'd already keyed the safety and held it on the table to keep it steady and pointed it in his direction. 'Go away,' I said.
'I don't mean any harm,' he assured me, spreading his hands. 'I merely wish to learn more about Brother D'Lay's encounter with the berserker – an unofficial after action report.'
'I've nothing to say. Ask the mercenaries, they'd know more.'
'They dispersed as soon as the Patrol released them.'
'Too bad. Go away.'
'But Captain, a few words...' he insisted, putting his hands on the back of the chair opposite and leaning earnestly forwards.
'If you or anyone else from Saint Bleyth wants a few words with me, you'll first have to call off your assassin and cancel the contract on Min. Otherwise, we've nothing to discuss. I don't care to associate with the would-be assassins of my owner.'
'Sorry, I'm a mere tactician. Stealth is not my bailiwick. So I can't...'
'Then turn around and walk away. Every time I've met one of your kind, I've ended up with a plasma dart in me. I can't tell you what a tremendous feat of willpower it's been, keeping from pulling the trigger right now. It's hot, I'm irritable. I'm not in the mood to talk. Go. Lift. Blast off.'
He looked down at me and tried again. 'I'm truly sorry, Captain, but we can't just cancel a contract. We have a code of ethics...'
I reached out and fired a plasma dart, a regular one, into his right hand. At 10 centimeters I don't usually miss. I didn't this time either. A harder squeeze on the trigger would have added a second, armor piercing dart for good measure – which would've put a small hole through his hand – but I refrained, settling for the single stun shot. I could still vaguely remember I wasn't a born drifteer. Yet.
He looked startled as the dim room flickered faintly blue with the electrical discharge. It was the first jolt of pure joy I'd felt in a long time. He kept that startled expression as he slowly collapsed, allowing me to lift my mug off the table before he crashed into it and crumpled to the floor.
This was the drifts, no one screamed, though Zaling, the petite proprietor hurried out of the shadows.
'No killing here, Captain!' she exclaimed, sternly, arms on her hips.
'Too late,' I said, and seeing her slight alarm, added, 'I'm kidding. He merely fell asleep. See, a sissy,' I added holding up my darter for her to see. 'And a low charge at that. He should come around in minutes.'
'Have you gone all drift dazed? You can't sit around drinking my cha and darting my customers!' That said, she added with an arched look, 'What'd he do? Steal your woman?'
'He's a brother of the Order of Saint Bleyth. Ever heard of them?'
Her eyes widened and she nodded and looked down at the figure beneath the fallen chair. 'What's he want with you?'
'Oh, just to talk over things about our last voyage, but I'm not feeling very hospitable to his kind. Told him to lift off, but he insisted on talking. I ended the conversation,' I emptied my mug and tossing some coins – they use money rather than credits in the drifts – on the table added, 'Buy him a cup of cha when he comes to. Tell him if he wants a talk, he knows my terms.'
'Don't dart anyone again in my house, Captain,' she said, scooping up the coins and wagging a finger at me. 'Next time lure him out into the lane and do it. And you really should get a real darter soon, if you're planning on darting more of them.' This with a nod to the crumpled figure on the far side of the table.
I picked the chair that had fallen on him up and nodded. 'Aye, Zaling, my dear. I'm sure you're right. I'll try and remember to do that.'
Non-lethal darts are Sanjoor's billy-blades, and with tensions running high, frequently used. I'd my little sissy out half a dozen times over the last six weeks, when words grew too heated for mere words and plasma darts were added for punctuation. I doubt I've ever actually hit anyone – I just add to the ambiance. I looked at Agust Nun on the floor and smiled. He may've been my first. But, I thought, we didn't want Nun compromising the serene ambiance of the Willow in the Wind Cha House, did we? I picked him up and settled him on the chair, his head resting on the table. A slight improvement.
I made my way through the tables and studied the thinly populated lane outside from the dimness of the doorway. It looked sleepy enough in the midday suns, so I stepped out into the steaming brightness of Port Sanjoor, Despar.
We've been in Despar orbit going on six weeks, waiting for the Neb-blasted Patrol inquiry to clear us and return our ticket so we could go about our business. (Getting the Neb out of here.) The idleness and heat of Sanjoor may've make me a mite irritable these days. I never used to shoot strangers in cha houses. The drifts may've coarsened my character a bit, as well.
I smiled as I made my way along the narrow lane between the shops and towering godowns that clung to Port Sanjoor. By Neb, it had felt good. Foolish, but sometimes you need to send a clear message that, well, professional killers citing their ethics annoy me.
02
Unlike Zilantre, a chartered company trading post, Despar is a real drift world. Despar has more than two hundred centuries of history under its sagging belly. It boasts a big orbital mini-sun and several smaller ones as well. The tropics are mostly ocean so the intense heat of that region causes no major inconvenience. But you have to wonder why they put their capital city so Neb-blasted close to this torrid zone. You'd think if you were designing a planet from scratch, you'd build your capital in a pleasant, temperate clime. That, however, seems to be the exception rather than the rule on the planets I know. And so it is with Port Sanjoor. Port Sanjoor is hot and bright. And very moist. And it smells, but I've gotten used to that.
The narrow lane snaked between little shops and dives leading to a long, arching pedestrian bridge connecting this island to the main space port island. The waterway was so clogged with boats that I could have walked across it, sampan to sampan, and helped myself to lunch along the way, if I wasn't so shy. The far side was deep in the shadows of two towering godowns before brightening onto the wide landing field shimmering in the heat as it stretched in a three kilometers arc before me. Port Sanjoor accommodates any and all ships that can make landfall, and is dotted with hundreds of boats and ships of every description, some dwarfing the haze dimmed ranks of godowns and hangars that circle the field. These hangar and warehouses are, in turn, crowded on all sides by a hodgepodge of low spaceer dives, shops, tenements and small walled garden plots reached by twisty narrow lanes and arching bridges. Far across the oily, blue-green waters of the wide bay, the bright clearsteel towers of Sanjoor shimmered faintly in the moist air. From the port, the city looks as impressive as any you'll find in the Unity's backwater, like the Azminn system. But close up, you'll find that the clearsteel towers are surrounded, like the godowns and hangars, by low lying tenements, shacks, tiny farms and colorful squalor. You'd best see Sanjoor by flier, but only if you can't avoid it.
I picked my way through the rows of parked boats unde
'Sorry. Waiting long?'
'No. Not here, anyway. I spent the whole morning waiting, so I'm quite used to it,' she replied, adding with a weary shrug. 'Nothing new,' to my inquiring look.
I've delegated dealing with the Patrol to my first officer, ex-commander Vynnia enCarn, on the theory that things might move quicker if I left it to Patrol officers to sort things out. So far the theory had failed to live up to my expectations.
'The delay seems to be tied to, somehow, dealing with the remnants of the Despar Navy. I'm not sure how our plight is tied into that mess, but that's what I given to understand.'
'I'm getting very tired of Sanjoor.'
'We just need to give it more time, Captain. We have millions of credits in our account, so we can afford to wait.'
'I hope to be able to keep most of them, when all is settled. And note my unwarranted optimism about this being settled some day.'
I can't say why the Patrol was still holding us here in this quantum state of uncertainty. They have all the facts of our involvement, someone just has to make a decision on what to do with us. And even if that decision had to be made somewhere else in the Nebula, even as far as Patrol HQ on Murlinn, it should've been made and sent down weeks ago. All they've said is that we're being held pending the conclusion of their investigation.
There were, I admit, things to investigate, but it's not like it's an impenetrable mystery – all of our actions were in plain sight. If we'd done what we did in the Unity proper, our ship would likely have been forfeited and our tickets pulled, at a minimum, since weapons running and engaging in armed conflicts are very illegal in the Unity and against Guild rules. But this was the drifts. While the Unity claims sovereignty over the whole of the Nine Star Nebula, it rarely enforces it in the drifts. The Guild controls the operation and staffing of ships within the Unity but not in the Drifts. Since we were operating entirely within the drifts, and only in a drift conflict, (at least until the Patrol decided otherwise) both bodies could easily turn a blind eye to our activities should they find it too complicated. Plus, the Lost Star's share of the fighting was clearly in self-defense, and we did destroy the berserker Explora Miner, perhaps saving many Patrol lives, so I'd say that all things considered, it looked like everything simply balanced out, but “simply” doesn't seem to be in the Patrol vocabulary.
'How was your morning?' she asked as I stood in the shade of the gig flapping my jacket to try to cool off a bit.
'Absolutely charming. Shot an agent of Bleyth. Wanted to talk about D'Lay's death, and wouldn't take no for an answer.'
She gave me a sharp look. 'You did what?'
'I sent a stun dart into him. Just a friendly hint to leave me alone.'
She closed her eyes for a moment, and took a breath. 'That wasn't wise.'
'Oh, I don't know. When in the drifts do as a drifteer. And when dealing with Saint Bleyth, do as Saint Bleyth does, which in my experience has always meant ol'Captain Litang ending up with a stun dart in him. Seeing that one of us was going to get a dart in the end, I decided it was going to be him, for once. It was my way of saying don't expect a lot of cooperation from the people you're trying to kill.'
Min had finally consented to filling Vynnia and Tenry in on the threat to her life, and we'd shared what D'Lay had told us about her assassin. I decided to be less forthcoming on my adventures with Nadine and the fact that I was on St Bleyth's list as well. Do as I say, not as I do. The fact is, I can't be captain by hiding aboard the ship. Up until recently, I wasn't too worried – we'd a large lead over Nadine, one I'd hoped we could lengthen. But after six weeks of rotting in Despar orbit, I was getting nervous. I didn't even want to think about the fact that they could simply assign the job to someone local.
Still she gave me a hard look. 'Even so, did it ever occur to you that he might simply be just a friend of D'Lay, or his lover? You could've told him something.'
'Not at the time,' I admitted, adding with a shrug, 'For all we know, he could be D'Lay's counterpart in Despar's service. St Bleyth likely has agents on all sides. And even if he was a friend, what could I tell him? D'Lay made a bloody hash of it right from the beginning. Got ambushed out the gate. Missed the intel on Explora Miner, and went out and got himself, and seven others killed because that's what they do, that code of honor thing. Can't imagine it'd be much comfort.'
She'd no answer for that, but remarked, after a while, 'The drifts seemed to have changed you, Wil.'
'When in the drifts, be a drifteer. I've a grandmother that came out of the drifts. Must be a chip off that asteroid. Just coming into my own.'
'I doubt your grandmother shot people who asked about a dead friend.'
'I met her only once, long ago, but I'd not bet on it, if I was you,' I laughed. 'Besides having the brethren of Saint Bleyth around you, even when they're not trying to kill you, isn't very healthy.'
'I'd think shooting them wouldn't be either.'
'Perhaps. But it sent a message. If they want my cooperation, they now know what I expect in return,' I replied rather grimly. I'm rather fatalistic these days.
D'Lay had hinted that Nadine was still far behind and reaching Despar in the aftermath of the war had been impossible until this past week or so. Now, there were ships arriving from the drift worlds and rocks once again. Trade was returning to normal. So she could be here any day now, from one of those arriving ships. And since the Saint Bleyth organization knows we're here and all their talk of bailiwick aside, it has a strong business interest in seeing their agents succeed for the reputation of the Order – the cards would seem to be stacked against us. Nothing, however, could be done except clearing Despar and keeping as low a profile as possible while here. And wearing three layers of armored clothing – in the sweltering heat of Port Sanjoor.
'There's one more subject I'd like to mention we before go up, Captain,' began Vynnia.
'Yes?'
'It's about shore leave. We're going to have to curtail it.'
'Ah, yes. I've was just thinking about that. Things are getting rough, and considering how long we've been here, we've likely lost most of our lead over Min's assassin. I'd like to keep Tallith safely on board the ship and curtailing shore leave for all would make that defensible.'
'What I've just heard is going to make that whole lot easier.'
'Don't like the sound of that, First,'
Things are getting pretty rough about the port. It's almost like a wharf rat war.
Maybe Port Sanjoor's is a rough and tumble place in normal times, but there are reasons beyond drink and high spirits these days. The Patrol's been rounding up the remnants of Despar's rag tag navy, volunteer and pressed, and interning them all on Despar, in Port Sanjoor to be precise, to await the determination of their fate. With more than two hundred idle ships in orbit and naval personnel brought in from the whole of the Confederacy, interned spaceers flood the dives, bars and tenement buildings that fill every nook and cranny of the large archipelago of small islands that make up Port Sanjoor. Some of the ships were regular Despar navy, and others merchant volunteers. But many had been hijacked and pressed into duty as Despar privateers, and they, too, are being held pending a Patrol ruling on their status. They've absolutely no love for Despar, so tension is rife in the dives of the islands and it flares up nightly despite the patrols of the Patrol Marines. While fatal darter fights are rare, plasma stunned spaceers litter the floors of dives, by morning. Our shore leave crew always went out as a group, and came back as one, carrying the stunned with them on several occasions.
'Seeing that my Ten seems to be in the fore of these affairs – an old failing of his – I haven't been able to say as much about it as I'd have liked,' continued Vynnia. 'However, I've just been passed a private warning that changes the whole complexion of those brawls. As you know, the Patrol's been sending the captured
'Aye, we've run into a few.'
'Right. However, I've been told that in addition to the regular navy spaceers, there's a separate organization within the navy, an elite political guard unit, called Legion of the New Order.'
'Legion of the New Order? Rather grand sounding name.'
'Clearly Admiral Dre Rodine had grand ambitions. This New Order group acted as his elite guard and political enforcement arm within the navy. They were the backbone and iron fist to his whole New Order movement.'
'And?'
'And they've taken their defeat very hard and are looking for scapegoats. I was told that our part in the destruction of Explora Miner has leaked to this organization. Now realistically, our part in the whole collapse of the Despar New Order is fairly minor, the three Patrol frigates on the fringe of the Despar Reef should have successfully engaged Explora Miner, but that's not how the League of the New Order sees it. They've got the idea that our destruction of the berserker was the single most critical blow to all their hopes...'
'Turning a blind eye to the dozen Patrol frigates that appeared in the key systems crushing their rag tag navy...?'
'So it would seem. But you see, they can do nothing about the Patrol...'
'But the poor old Lost Star and its crew, is another matter...'
'Exactly. The berserker Explora Miner was Despar's and Dre Rodine's great secret weapon, the weapon that assured victory. And we destroyed it...'
'No good deed goes unpunished,' I muttered. My new mantra. 'Is there no rational thought or action in the drifts?'
'Says a man who just shot a fellow for asking about a friend...'
'And it didn't raise much more than an eyebrow. But why are they letting these fanatics run wild?'
'Well, they're not exactly letting them run wild. They're confined to the island base and Sanjoor City like the rest of the naval personnel. But they can't identify every member of this organization – it had special undercover enforcement branches throughout the New Order, so they can't guarantee that even stricter confinement would prevent any actions against us by these unidentified special agents. In any event, now that the word of our action with Explora Miner has reached these people, my Patrol contacts fear that we can no longer assume everyone will be firing non-lethal darts in the brawls with us. The Legion is out for our blood.'
'Well, we don't have a choice, do we? 'That puts an end to shore leave. At least it gives us a Neb-damned good reason to end it.'
Vynnia nodded. 'Yes, and I assure you, I tried to use it as an argument for releasing us now as well, but was given no promises. There's something going on, but what it is, they've decided to keep us in the dark.'
'I've had my fill of the drifts, Vyn. We've had nothing but trouble since passing Anjur, and there seems no end in sight. Well, I'll clear it with Min and break the news at our big meal tonight.'
03
'No one's going downside.' I said, for the third time, and looked around the dining saloon's filled table, 'Can I make that any clearer for any of you?'
'We can't stay cooped up in this tin-can,' protested Riv.
'Of course you can. It's your Neb-blasted career,' I shot back. 'I don't like having to any more than you, but as Vyn just outlined, with this Legion out for revenge, you're risking your life rather than a headache or broken bone by going down to Despar. I don't know if you place any value on your life, but I do. I'm already short an environmental engineer and I don't want to sail more shorthanded than I am now. Like it or not, no one's going down.'
'I value my skin as much as the next spaceer, Skipper. But my Neb-blasted career is running rocket engines, so when am I going to be doing that again?'
'I wish I knew. Vyn's been pestering the Patrol every day, and hasn't been able to get a word out of them as to when, or even if. What more we can do? I'll promise you this, Riv, you'll be the first person I tell and the first words out of my mouth will be to order you to get the piles wound up and the engines ready. No one wants to clear Despar and the drifts more than I. But that doesn't change the fact that we've become, in the minds of these fanatics, the cause of their defeat. And the drifts being the drifts, that means there's no limit to what they might do. No one goes down except on ship's business, and no one goes down alone. That's my final word.'
'May I make a suggestion, Wil?' asked Illy in a quiet voice.
'Of course,' I replied turning to her and adding, 'I'd welcome yours...” And I would. Illy rarely makes suggestions now that I'm captain, but even without knowing what it was, I was almost certain I'd take it.
'Like most planets, there's more to Despar than Port Sanjoor. I understand that Admiral Dre Rodine was not universally loved, even here on Despar, so that I'd suggest that we look into locating some out of the way locales, in regions where Rodine is not held in esteem. We can make a series of day trips together down to different areas until we're cleared to sail. If we're discrete we can just pass ourselves as local tourists, and don't spend more than a day in any one area, we should be able to get off ship without the Legion even knowing it, and certainly without giving them a chance to organize any mischief.'
'Can we be discrete?' I asked, staring at Riv.
'Why, of course we can, Skipper. Let's form a committee to locate a quiet beach so we can picnic on in perfect safety,' he replied rather sarcastically.
I turned to Min. 'You have any thoughts on this, Tallith?'
She shrugged. 'My first priority is keeping everyone safe. I'm very reluctant to allow anyone off ship that doesn't have pressing business downside. Still, confined to an idle ship is, I realize, very taxing, so if a place and a method can be devised to get us downside safely, even if for only a few hours each day, I'd consider allowing it.'
'Right. Anyone who wants to join Riv's search committee should get in touch with him after the meal. Bring me a complete report, will you Riv? We'll want to identify lots of places since we'll only spend a day at each and we'll need to keep the Legion guessing, though hopefully they'll be kept completely out of the picture.'
He grinned and nodded. 'Aye, Captain. Dig out the travel books – mates, we're going exploring.'
Later, as Min, Vynnia and I sat sipping our cha on the awning deck, Vynnia chided us for not strictly sticking to our original intention of ending shore leave entirely. 'Illy could have made it a private suggestion.'
'I'm sure she did it to keep the peace,' said Min.
'And it was a good idea. If we're able to find places to visit far from where the Navy is confined, and be back on board ship before word could reach any of the remaining secret branches of the Legion, we could all be safe and sane.'
'A lot of ifs. I've two concerns – one is that we don't know how widespread the secret branch of the Legion is. Is there any part of Despar free of them? And the second is that they'll be able to follow us anywhere by watching the ship.'
I considered that.
'Look into your contacts at HQ, Vyn, and see if they have the intel on the Legion they'd share with us. And get permission to shift our orbit outwards. We'll see if any space junk tries to follow us – and search the hull for any spy devises,' I added, recalling Nadine's claim to have spied on us in Sanre-tay orbit. 'Between that and letting them spend several days coming up with a list of places for day trips, we can keep them aboard while we further assess the risks. I've no intention of discounting any risk – going stir-crazy aboard ship is preferable to being dead. What we really need to do is to clear Despar as soon as possible.'
'We can only hope,' said Vynnia with a sigh.
Shifting orbits and searching the hull and near space for spy devises (none found) kept the crew busy for two days and a third was used by Riv's committee to come up with several dozen tourist attractions that the crew was (now) eager to visit, so I couldn't put them off too much longer.
And then, late this evening we received a signal from Patrol headquarters that seemed an answer to our wishes, depending on how you read it. It tersely ordered Captain Litang, First Officer enCarn and Chief Tech Engineer gil'Giles to report to the Despar Court Complex tomorrow, nine hundred hours sharp for a judicial hearing. With no further explanation. Seeing that we're unlikely to be freed without some sort of hearing, it sounded promising. However, the complete lack of further information, gave it a rather sinister ring to it.
'Any hint as to what this hearing's about?' I asked Vynnia, 'Shouldn't we have been given a notice of what charges are to be heard, so we could prepare our case if necessary?'
'We've had six weeks to prepare. So, let's not overlook a golden asteroid for a platinum one in the drift. We've a hearing which is what we've been trying to land.'
'It reads rather short and ill-tempered in addition to its very short notice,' said Min looking somber. 'I should go too, as owner.'
'It's the bloody hot weather. Makes everyone ill tempered. And no, you shouldn't. We've been keeping your status on board a secret just to avoid something like this. Let'em deal with White Bird Holding Company, if they have any issues with our action.'
'Wil's right. And as for being terse, it's the Patrol idea of being efficient,' said Vynnia, commander, Patrol reserve.
'Well, if it means getting clear, I'll not complain,' added Min.
'Amen to that,' I said. 'Don't want to attract the Dark Neb's attention.'
04
I don't know if our mild protest did attract the Dark Neb's attention, but our hopes of clearing our case quickly evaporated. We arrived bright and early the following morning to discover that the judicial hearing we were summoned to was not ours but Grand Admiral Dre Rodine's, the former leader of the Confederacy of Despar. We were merely summoned as witnesses, specifically in regards to his employment of Explora Miner. In the Unity, mind probes are used to determine innocence or guilt, but that doesn't lift in the drifts. Drifteers do not trust mind probes in general, and especially not ones administered by Unity authorities – so the Patrol, conforming to local customs for local political reasons, arranged for a public trial. The Patrol overlooks a great many infractions of Unity Law in the drifts, but apparently hiring a berserker is not one of them. His political actions, as long as they were confined to the drifts, would have only earned him an exile somewhere in the Unity, but the hiring of an outlawed rogue machine was a capital offense charge, which, if convicted, meant that he'd face life in a high security Felons' Rift as a de-sexed, muck eating drone. A steep price to pay for glory.
Our turn to testify came after the midday break. The Patrol prosecutor had us go over the events leading to our capture and subsequent destruction of Explora Miner. We'd already provided the log data, but we were asked to retell it to the court. Under questioning, we admitted that we'd not seen any evidence of Explora Miner prior to our change of course and yes, the mercenaries had immediately launched an attack upon its arrival in range. But, after the brief battle, it had claimed to be acting under Confederacy of Despar orders, citing Rule 3, and altered our course for Despar and was escorting us there when we were able to break free of its control.
Rafe was asked how he accomplished this, and what he found during the process. His testimony was a mix of vagueness and minute details about what he did and how, so I doubt that anyone truly followed his explanation, but he did say that the whole process had to be done underneath Explora Miner's conscious level, and so he'd no knowledge of what Explora was thinking, and no direct evidence of Explora being employed by Admiral Rodine and the Confederacy.
All of which was hardly necessary – there was an abundance of evidence to prove that Admiral Rodine had, indeed, hired the rogue machine, so by the end of the day, Admiral Rodine was on his way to a Felon's Reef in the Apier system to live out his days, a spayed connoisseur of muck and grub.
This was not a popular verdict in the galleries, packed with naval officers, most of whom, I suspect, were members of the Legion of the New Order.
We hung back to give Vynnia a chance to talk to some of the Patrol officials about our fate. And when we emerged onto the landing platform at the top of the building, the Despar naval officers were waiting for us. Fortunately for us, there were armed Patrol Marines about, so we made our way safely through this menacing throng of grim men and women to a flier with only glares of hate and barely heard, but heard, threats of revenge and death.
'Blaming us for their defeat doesn't make any sense at all. How can they overlook a dozen Patrol frigates?'
'I'm certain, Willy, if you stepped over and explained to them that, considering the Patrol intervention, your destruction of the late lamented Explora Miner, was of no consequence, occurring as it did after their defeat, they'd understand,' added Rafe.
'My destruction? So it's my destruction now?'
'And your glory as well, lad. What a yarn it'll make too!' replied Rafe.
Like I'm likely to live to tell it.
'You did it all, I didn't do a thing!'
'You gave the order, taking the last and most dangerous step, risking all. As our Captain, the glory is yours!'
'Your turn for glory, Rafe. Go back and explain to them that Explora Miner could never have handled the three Martin Class frigates awaiting it, so we're not the cause of their defeat,' I replied.
'Alas, lad, I fear there'd be little glory in that,' sighed Rafe as he opened the flier's hatch. 'Just gore, and it'll be mine. But if you seek even more glory, explain it to them yourself.'
'I've my fill of it,' I said, climbing in after him. 'I'm sure they'll get over it, in time.'
'This is the drifts, Wil. Neither they nor their children will ever get over it,' said Vynnia.
The prospect of people tripping over each other trying to kill me seemed more real with each passing day and my corresponding prospect of ever getting out of the drifts alive, ever more remote. No good deed goes unpunished.
The flier dropped us off near the gig, and we were about to go aboard when the slight figure emerged from the shadows of a neighboring boat.
'A word with you, Captain?' said a quiet, but vaguely familiar voice. This time he came prepared. He held a darter in his hand. Looked like a universal, packing either lethal or non-lethal plasma darts.
'Ah... The fellow I was telling you about the other day, the Saint Bleyth chap I met in the cha house. You see, they do learn,' I said bitterly. And turning back to the mercenary, I added, 'I've still nothing to say to you. You know my terms. A darter in hand doesn't change them.'
'Captain, it wouldn't kill you to tell him what he wants to know. It might if you don't,' Vynnia said quietly.
I still wasn't in the mood, darter or no. With Vynnia, ex-Patrol, and the wily Rafe at my side, I felt safe enough defying this tactician.
'Oh, no. No danger of that. He's a tactician, not an assassin. Different bailiwick altogether. They have their code of ethics...'
There was a flash of blue and I lost interest in the conversation.
Later, back aboard the ship, in the medic bay under the healing machine that was erasing the scrape on my forehead where it met the tarmac, and the usual headache from the dart, I asked Vynnia, 'Well, what did he want?'
'Just what he asked for. With all the mercenaries either dead or dispersed before they had a chance to interview them, he wanted to know just what happened and why. An after action report.'
'And did you give him one?'
'I felt the charter fee entitled him to one,' she replied, stiffly.
'Professional courtesy,' I shot back.
'Common decency, Captain.'
'Do you plan on extending common decency to the assassin who kills Tallith as well?'
She glared at me, not replying only because she remembered I was her superior officer and could say things like that with impunity, at least by her code.
'And I hope you emphasized that he died living up to their code. I'm certain it made it all worthwhile.'
'I don't think you understand. Or perhaps, you're just being deliberately obtuse. D'Lay undertook to defend us, and did so, though it cost him his life...'
'And seven others.'
'And seven others who had signed on for that type of duty. I'm certain you'd do the same if it meant saving your ship, Captain.'
'I'd hope that I'll see that it never comes down to that. But enough. Was he his lover, a friend, or just a clerk?'
She shrugged. 'I couldn't tell. The loss seemed felt deeply, but that might have been the reaction throughout the organization. I gather the operational side of the Order's not all that large, and very close, so the loss of an entire fighter wing would be felt deeply by all.'
I knew she was speaking from her experience as a Patrol officer, and I should respect that, but the arrogance of one hand trying to kill Min and me and the other coming asking for favors simply rubbed me the wrong way.
'No doubt it put a dent in their profits from the war. I doubt Boscone paid for services not delivered. Plus, D'Lay suspected that someone in the St Bleyth Prime Monastery was cheating and tipping off Despar against him, not to mention all the other St Bleyth operatives hired out to Despar. Did you ask him if he'd gotten all their reports as well?' I asked, just to remind her what sort of people we were dealing with rather than any interest in the answer.
She gave me a sharp look. 'I believe Admiral Rodine was more than capable of managing his own war without hired help. He just didn't know where to draw the lines.'
'Right. Enough of this. What, if anything, did you learn from talking with that Patrol official after the trial?
She shrugged. 'It's now obvious that we were being held for Rodine's trial. Our part in the whole affair was supposed to be kept secret, though as we know, it leaked a little before the trial. Perhaps leaked by someone in the Admiral's defense team.
'However, we still have problems of our own. The Patrol cannot just turn a blind eye to our activity, especially since we played a significant part in the whole affair. They must consider not only our semi-active role in carrying D'Lay's forces into battle, but our subsequent destruction of Explora Miner and the lives we may've saved by doing so. Plus, it's been hinted, there's an ancient law in the Unity Code that places a bounty on the capture or destruction of a rogue machine outside of the Machine Drifts, so that we could be eligible to receive a large bounty. The law in question goes back to the post revolt period and has not been exercised in several thousand years. Apparently the rogue machines that still survive are wily enough not to fall into the hands of Rafe gil'Giles.'
'So?'
'So, it's a giant procedural knot that's going to take time to unwind. The Admiral's trial unraveled part of it, but there are still things that need be determined, probably at the Patrol HQ level or even somewhere in the bowels of Unity Prime itself.'
'Meaning, we're not going anywhere for months, years, decades?'
'Weeks, at least,' Vynnia admitted.
'Is there anything we can do to speed the process up. The longer we stay in orbit here, the greater the chance that Tallith's assassin will've made her way here. And remember, Saint Bleyth knows we're here... They don't like failure. They might not wait.'
She gave me a look. Like it was my fault.
'Can your parents do anything to help us?' I asked, remembering that Vynnia's parents were both Patrol Admirals.
She looked away and scowled. 'I'll contact them, if I have to. But I'm hoping that it won't be necessary. I'm hoping that just having them in the offing will be enough, especially now that our usefulness in convicting Admiral Rodine is no longer a factor.'
'I know you're doing your best, Vyn,' I said to smooth things over, adding, 'I trust you. And I know that you and Ten are doing everything that can be done to protect our owner. Please forgive my impatience.'
05
Vynnia and Tenry went down this morning to make our daily call on Patrol Headquarters. Vyn, perhaps having some reservations about letting me wander about on the loose, suggested that she and Tenry visit HQ today, with some tale about Tenry perhaps knowing someone she didn't... Well, with the Legion of the New Order on the loose and now looking for revenge, Vyn would be safer with Ten at her side, who, I'm certain, could hit something with his darter beyond 30 centimeters, so I didn't kick about being left behind. They returned late in the afternoon, with no news about our status. They did, however bring other news, for Tallith, which I didn't learn until the conclusion of my evening rounds.
I was visiting my feline friends in the dim lit and shadowed no. 4 hold, when it darkened slightly. I turned to see the tall silhouette of Tallith Min swinging out of the main access well.
'I thought I saw you go up,' she said.
'Just finishing up my rounds and visiting my friends,' I replied, standing up as they scattered into the shadows.
'You seem to have become their patron saint.'
'We bonded in the wyrm weather, any orbit in a quantum storm, I suppose.'
'We need to have a talk, Wil,' she said, looking around. 'Here if you like, or in my quarters.'
'Your choice.' Something was up.
She shrugged and nodded to some cases in a shadowed corner. 'Let's find a seat.'
I followed her and took a seat beside her. It was dark, so I was dealing with little more than a lightly outlined shadow.
'Vyn and Ten were talking to certain people today at Patrol HQ. People in the Patrol's Special Intelligence Department,' she began. 'I'll spare you the details, but the essence of their conversation is that the Patrol feels that they're in need of more eyes and ears in the drifts. They offered Vyn and Ten a job in that capacity. It would be informal, undercover work, little more than trading through the drifts and reporting all they pick up as they go.
'To facilitate this, they offered Vyn and Ten a prize of the recent war, a small ten-year-old class 3 eight-box trader mounting an oversized class 5 engine, making it a very powerful ship for its class. It was built as a supply ship for the regular Despar Navy with its control and crew quarters forward, followed by the eight box hold with fuel tanks and engines aft. It's a smuggler's delight and is now in Patrol custody on some rock on the fringe of the Despar Reef. The idea was that Vyn and Ten and several other undercover Patrol agents – a three or four-person crew would be all that would be needed to run it – would take it about the drifts as a tramp trader picking up and relaying gossip to the Patrol HQ every now and again.
'While they were flattered, they were about to make their final refusal when it occurred to Vyn that it was exactly the type of ship I was looking for to continue my search... ' she paused and continued, 'Of course, being able to afford to buy such a craft, even a five-hundred-year-old one would exhaust our credit reserves. But Vyn proposed that the Patrol sell the craft to us, Vyn, Ten and I, since my goal and the Patrol's goals were essentially complimentary. The three of us would take this ship into the drifts. I could use it to track down the thin leads found in the log and search for others, Vyn and Ten could continue to look after me, while at the same time, we'd be doing the Patrol's work as well – drifting and picking up gossip. In addition to having a far better ship that I'd ever dreamed of having, we'd have the option of calling on the Patrol if the situation warranted it. It seemed an ideal solution to everyone's goals,' she said in a carefully neutral conversational tone.
'That was not exactly what the Patrol people had in mind,' she continued, 'but after some discussion, Vyn agreed to taking on a fourth crew member, one of the special branch people, since it would make running the ship easier for all, and the Patrol would then have one of their regular people on board to justify the sale of the ship at a very discounted price. That's the proposal they brought bac
'I've decided to take the offer,' she ended, pausing only briefly to allow any objection on my part. My mind was racing ahead. Still, I'd not have been able to think fast enough to say anything. I'd a feeling there was nothing to say.
'First off, I want to emphasize that I'm using my own credits and not touching any the Lost Star has in its account. I am, of course, depriving you of three crew members who I'm sure you'll be reluctant to replace here on Despar. However, once freed, you're looking at one long passage to the Aticor system where you can replace the staff with solid Guild choices. I think it wouldn't be too great a hardship.
'You'll have a free hand to run the ship with a substantial cushion of credits to start off with. I've complete confidence in you. This idea of mine about going to the drifts has turned out to be something of a disaster, though a lucrative disaster. Hopefully, going along with the Patrol's plan to use Vyn and Ten, we can get things moving on the Lost Star's release as well. I hope that between this and the result of the inquest, we'll not face any harsh penalties. You can repair the engine once you reach the Aticor system, and resume tramping as you see fit. Still, I realize it won't be easy to start new, but I don't see that I can be of any help whether or not I'm aboard. If you find yourself in dire straits, contact Min & Co. Kardea can raise funds from my brother, who has them but doesn't want them. That's the best I can do.'
'If we can keep the Bleyth credits, we'll get by just fine. In any event, the engine can be managed until we can earn enough credits to reline the bell without touching our reserves, so that shouldn't be a problem,' I muttered, just to say something while I considered what I needed to do and say.
'I realize, Wil, that this isn't exactly the way you'd have liked things to work. But it isn't that far off either. You talked about earning enough credits to buy a ship just like I'm buying now to pursue my quest. It's happened far sooner than you may have envisioned, but I'll not have another opportunity like this again. You also wanted Vyn and Ten to accompany me, which was never my intent, so that's going your way too. I'll also have a trained Patrol Intelligence Agent on board. I don't think you can accuse me of being reckless. I'm sure the Patrol will have some say in where we go and in any event, we'll owe them some return on their investment, so I won't be rushing off on the faintest hint of a clue. I'll be forced to take my time...' she paused. 'I really don't think you can complain too much.'
I shook my head and said slowly, 'No, Tallith, I can't seem to find anything to complain about.'
'I know you've insisted that you've a stake in this quest. And perhaps you have one, a small one, but well, the quest is bound to be a long one. Five or ten years might only be the opening campaign. Mostly it will be drift trading and establishing a reputation in the drifts that will open doors to the inner workings. I suspect that my quest will be just the thread we follow with many diversions along the way. I'm willing to do it because I now think it's the only way I'll find what I'm looking for. I'm not in a hurry, but I'm not going to give it up either... My point is that by staying aboard the ship at this point in time, you're not being cheated out of your stake in the quest. I can't predict the future, so I can't promise that you'll be in at the end, but that is always possible too.
'This feels like the right thing to do. I hope you see that,' she finished abruptly.
I took my time to reply. I recalled my wyrm weather dream, I'd come to take it as a warning, not to press my undetermined feelings for Tallith Min, either with her or myself. I could – should – let them remain undefined until the right time. And this, I knew wasn't the right time.
'Yes, Tallith, I see that.' I said slowly. 'You're in increasing danger every day we stay in orbit, and well, now having a greater insight into the organization that has undertaken to kill you, I've little hope of keeping you ahead of them aboard the Lost Star. This Cin character has no doubt been trailing us, and there's no reason why they shouldn't assign another assassin to your case as well. I don't know how to protect you anymore. This prospect, if you can make certain that the Patrol handles things so that you simply disappear, would be the perfect solution. And as you've pointed out, the whole setup fits neatly into most of my hopes for your future.
'So yes, I'm on board with the plan,' I added with a sigh. 'The important thing is for you, Vyn and Ten to disappear without a trace. Not being in a Guild port, we don't have to list our crew, so that the fact that the three of you are gone, need never be noted.
'However, there is one condition I want to impose – I'll sail the Lost Star to the Amdia system instead of the Aticor system. Amdia is a hundred and fifty astronomical units closer to Kintrine, which I assume is your ultimate goal. I don't know what we could do, but we'd be closer at hand, in the event we could be useful. And I don't think our prospects are that much less in the Amdia system than they'd be around Aticor.'
'That's your call, Captain,' she replied, I suspect much relieved. 'Kardea is available if you need her and what resources I still have, but otherwise, the ship is yours to take where you want to. I shouldn't need any credits from her operation, so keep all the operational credits in her account. Get the engine repaired when you can, and keep my ship as safe and profitable as you can.'
'I hope I've not forgotten how. It hasn't been that way for a while...'
Oh, we've profits enough. Just a little bad luck, that's all. That should even out.'
'I won't tempt the Dark Neb, by making any promises, other than I'll try.'
'That's all I wanted, Wil.'
'Well, then, what's the plan?'
'We'll go down tomorrow to Patrol HQ to make the purchase. Then within a day or two I believe the Patrol will send a boat along to take us and our supplies out to our new ship and we'll be off, probably put twenty aus between us and Despar before we even begin trading.
'Right. The important thing is to be extra careful until you're off. I'd rather not have you go down any more...'
'Only one more time. I'll have to run some risks if I'm to succeed.'
I left it at that. I simply wasn't going to argue with her. The time had passed for that, for all the good it ever did.
06
And that, is that. When I returned to my quarters I went over all the things I could have said. None of them made sense in the end. There was simply no argument against this plan that held any air. It should keep her safe from the hands of any St Bleyth assassin. And even if they happen to get wind of the plan, finding a small trader in the drifts is like finding a grain of sand on a beach. Traders come and go on no schedule, and as often as not, change ownership, names, personnel, and even appearance between ports of call. Records of cargoes and ports of call are not available to trace like they are in the Unity. And with Vynnia and Tenry at her side, I don't think she'll get herself into too much trouble. I think they have the moral authority to handle her that I lack.
And it freed me of a great responsibility. Keeping Tallith Min alive looked to be an almost impossible task, given what I now knew about Saint Bleyth. As I mentioned to Min, given Nadine's failures, it's likely that either the client or Saint Bleyth had, or would sooner or later, put additional assassins on Min's trail. Failure was poor business. Given the necessity of keeping the ship employed in trade, we'd be unlikely to outrun the reach of Saint Bleyth, though in the Unity it would be far harder to assassinate Min (and me) than here in the drifts. But we were still on Despar with no departure date on the event horizon, so this offer seemed a gift of the Bright Neb, as long as we could keep her alive for a few more days.
And yet, paradoxically, I felt bad
For my own life, I'd grown quite fatalistic, discounting the danger to me for no good reason. Perhaps it was because I knew how pointless the effort of killing me was. A waste of credits. And well, there was nothing I could do to convince them otherwise. It wasn't bravery, but resignation. The Litang thread of life had a beginning and an end. The Litang writing this now doesn't know how far that thread stretches into time, but even as I write this, there's a Litang at the end of the thread who does know. The universe is written – I just can't read ahead, only behind. And it doesn't matter, because the universe is an unchanging unity. What is written is written and I was in the book.
07
I insisted on accompanying Min, Tenry and Vynnia down to Despar the following morning. Safety in numbers, and I'd have been a nervous wreck waiting for them to return. I waited in the HQ lobby. The special branch doesn't entertain casual visitors.
Min had given the crew the news the following morning, with strict orders that nothing was to be said to anyone else. I gave orders that a list of supplies for Min's new ship should be drawn up and gathered. Vynnia assured me that the ship would be supplied with the basics, but didn't object when we started hauling some of the supplies they'd brought over from the old Silvery Moon. They'd be eating synthetic food as a main stay, so having some real food and drink aboard would brighten up the passage a little.
The following day a boat came alongside to take them and their supplies to their new, as yet, unnamed ship. The fourth crew member proved to be a young, but serious looking fellow – tall, dark, and, I suppose, rather handsome. He was friendly, but quiet, and yet, while transferring the supplies to the Patrol boat, he said something to Min that made her laugh, and even blush. That, I fear, sent a dart through me. I didn't really want that it should, but it did. And there was nothing I could do about it. Now. If ever.
When the boat was loaded and it was time to go, I kissed Tallith Min good-bye. We all did. I even kissed Vynnia, though I drew the line at Tenry. We wished them good luck, and they us. We all needed some, I think.
I don't know what the future holds, and I don't think the wyrm did either. Still, that dart of pain makes it hard to lie to myself. I care about Tallith Min. Hopefully we both can afford a few years or decades apart. It's hard to be optimistic, but hopefully that's just the baleful ambiance of Despar.