by Timothy Zahn
And with a suddenness that sent a violent jerk through Nicole’s body, the door slid open and six other men in green jumpsuits boiled into the room, with Iosif in the lead.
“You okay?” Iosif asked tensely, his eyes flicking back and forth between Miron, Jeff, and Nicole.
“Of course I’m okay,” Miron said. “Hey, you were the one who set up this cockamamie system. Whistle if everything’s okay—”
“And girlish scream if it isn’t,” Iosif finished for him, eyeing Nicole.
“It was a shout, not a girlish scream,” Miron said stiffly.
“Whatever,” Iosif said. “And, yeah—I remember. I just never trust anyone else to.”
“Wait a minute,” Jeff put in, frowning at him. “You aren’t serious. Did you think we were actually going to attack him or something?”
“Why not?” Iosif replied. “Most of the jarheads I’ve known have been a little unstable. Besides, Bungie warned us that you were a little crazy and couldn’t be trusted.”
“And you believed him?” Jeff scoffed.
“I don’t know who to believe anymore,” Iosif said. “Oh, and he said that the Fyrantha had taken you over, too.”
“But Bungie?”
“At least that explains Miron,” Nicole said.
The budding argument paused as everyone frowned at her. “What?” Iosif asked.
“Why Miron came down to talk to me instead of sending one of you,” Nicole explained. “He thought there might be danger and so he took the risk himself. Makes him a good leader.”
To her relief, she could sense the relaxing of some of the tension. “Yeah,” Jeff said. “Unlike Bungie, who I noticed always leads from the rear.”
“I noticed that, too.” Iosif huffed out a breath. “Sorry.”
“No apology needed,” Nicole assured him. “Bungie can be pretty persuasive sometimes.”
“Like when he told us we could go home if we whipped your tails in the arena?” Miron suggested.
Nicole winced. “Like I said: persuasive.”
“Forget Bungie,” Jeff said. “He’s never been more than wharf slime. We’ve got way bigger problems than him.”
“Yeah, that.” Iosif turned to Miron. “So what the hell is going on?”
“Everyone grab a seat,” Miron said, his voice darkening. “You’re not going to believe this.”
* * *
Considering they were getting all of it cold and for the first time, Nicole decided, they took it remarkably well. Though it probably helped that Miron was doing all the explaining instead of her.
“So basically, unless we do something, everything we know is screwed,” the green leader concluded.
“If this is all for real,” Iosif said.
“You think we’re lying?” Jeff asked, an edge of challenge in his tone.
“Not necessarily,” Iosif said. “But you could be wrong. Your story makes sense, but the Shipmasters are aliens. Their logic may not be our logic.”
“Most of this came straight from the Fyrantha,” Nicole reminded him. “The ship really ought to know what it’s talking about.”
“Maybe,” Iosif said. “But then, it’s also alien. So who knows?”
“Well, if it’s just some kind of fever dream, then we’ve got nothing to worry about, anyway,” one of the others—Fauke, Nicole vaguely remembered his name—offered. “So let’s pretend it’s real and hope we all get to laugh about it later.” He gestured at Nicole and Jeff. “My question is whether these two have the chops to run this thing or whether we ought to put Iosif in charge.”
Jeff snorted. “Why? Because he was Navy?”
“No, because he was a Navy SEAL,” Fauke countered.
“Whoa,” Iosif said, holding up a hand. “I washed out of SEAL training, remember?”
“You were still in the program,” Fauke said stubbornly.
“For about two weeks.” Iosif looked at Nicole. “Let’s try this. Which of you came up with the trick Nicole used to gas all of us just before the Koffren showed up?”
Nicole braced herself. “I did.”
“Figured as much,” Iosif said. “Good strategy and perfect execution. If you want to run the show, I’m good with it.”
A small murmur went through the others. “Wait a minute,” Fauke said, frowning. “Because of one trick?”
“Because no battle plan survives contact with the enemy,” Iosif said. “The people you want in charge are the ones who can improvise new tactics on the fly.” He looked at Nicole. “Right now, that means you.” He looked at Jeff, a small lopsided smile tugging at one corner of his lip. “And you can bring him along if you want.”
“Thank you,” Nicole said, surprised in spite of herself. In Trake’s group, women weren’t exactly welcomed into the decision-making process. But then, this was hardly Trake’s group. “But while I’m happy to give suggestions and ideas, you two”—she pointed at Jeff and Iosif—“are the ones with experience and training. I think that means you should be the real planners and directors.”
Jeff looked at Iosif. “You want to be my second-in-command?”
“Or you can be mine,” Iosif said. “Never mind. We can work out the chain of command once we’ve got a plan.”
“Thank you,” Nicole said again, feeling another trickle of relief. The last thing they needed was their two most experienced fighters arguing about who was in charge.
Maybe that would come later. She would try her best to make sure that it didn’t.
“My question is how much time we’re going to have,” she continued. “We need to get moving on this, but you still need to get your quota of work done. If you don’t, the Shipmasters will figure out pretty quick that you’re working with me.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Miron said grimly. “When we got back from the arena we found out that they’d taken our Sibyl.”
“Ours, too,” Jeff said, frowning. “That’s weird.”
“Where did they take them?” Nicole asked.
“No idea,” Jeff said. “Fievj just came by and said we weren’t going to be working on the ship for a while.”
“Maybe it’s supposed to be our punishment for not beating each other’s brains out like they wanted?” Iosif suggested.
“What, a vacation is punishment now?” Jeff asked.
Iosif shrugged. “Like I said: aliens.”
“What about the tool cabinets?” Nicole asked. Maybe Fievj was worried that the blue and green teams would try to damage the ship. “Are they all locked up?”
“Cole?” Miron invited.
“Not as of an hour ago,” Cole said. “I needed a wrench, and just grabbed one from the nearest cabinet. No locks or guards or anything.”
Nicole wrinkled her nose. So they weren’t worried about her and Jeff having tools. Could Fievj be planning to set up another fight between the two groups?
“Well, then—” Iosif broke off as the door opened.
Nicole tensed. But it was only Kahkitah. “Nicole!” he bird-whistled excitedly. “You’re back! Tomas said you were. Or he said you were coming back. But you weren’t in your room, and Dr. Sam said you hadn’t been to the medical center, but he was hoping you’d come see him, and then I came here”—he swept his arm around, taking in the whole dining room—“and here you were. Oh. Hello,” he added as if only then noticing all the green jumpsuits. “I remember you. You were in the ocean room, weren’t you?”
“Yes, we were,” Miron said, a little dryly. “Didn’t see you helping very much.”
“Helping?” Kahkitah’s whistle sounded confused. “Was I supposed to help? Did you need me to help?”
“Don’t worry about it, Kahkitah,” Jeff said, his tone a mixture of soothing amusement and strained patience. In his own way, Nicole mused, he was as good an actor as Kahkitah and the rest of the Ghorfs. “What was that about Sam?”
“Sam? Oh—yes.” Kahkitah turned back to Nicole. “He said he wanted to see you. Were you hurt? You didn’t
tell me you were hurt.”
“I’m fine,” Nicole assured him, standing up. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d never gotten the meal that had been the reason she and Jeff had come to the dining room in the first place. “I’ll go see what he wants.”
“Shall I come with you?” Kahkitah asked. “You haven’t forgotten the way, have you?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “But if you want to come along, you’re welcome to do so.”
“Thank you,” Kahkitah said eagerly. “That would be wonderful.” He paused, looking back at Iosif and the others. “You won’t think me rude if I leave so soon, will you?” he asked, his eagerness turning to anxiety. “I don’t want you to think I was rude.”
“That’s okay,” Miron said. “We have some stuff to talk about, anyway.”
“Human stuff,” Iosif added.
“Oh.” Kahkitah brightened. “Can I help? I like to help.”
“You know anything about strategy and tactics?” Iosif asked.
Kahkitah looked at Nicole and gave out a soft, confused-sounding whistle. “I don’t think so. I don’t remember those words.”
“Then you can’t help,” Iosif said.
“That’s all right,” Nicole said. “Come on, let’s go see what Sam wants.”
“All right,” Kahkitah said, still sounding confused. “I’m sorry. Good-bye. It was nice to see you all again. Oh, and the yellow-swirled redcake here is wonderful if you’d like to try some.”
“Thank you,” Jeff said. “Good-bye, Kahkitah.”
A minute later Nicole and Kahkitah were back in the corridor heading for the medical center. “You never cease to amaze me,” Nicole said quietly as they walked.
“I’m sure you played just as convincingly on Earth against Bungie and the group you were with,” Kahkitah said. “It’s not hard to present a childlike mind to others, especially when their expectations are already low.”
“I suppose so,” Nicole said. “Must get tiring, though.”
“If there were no point to it, it would be tiring and frustrating both,” Kahkitah said. “But we travel a long-term strategy. Victory and freedom are goals well worth a small sacrifice of personal pride.” He whistled a shrug. “Plus it encourages people to underestimate you. That’s always useful.”
“Unless you want them to overestimate you,” Nicole said. “Sometimes that’s the direction you need to go.”
“True, though that’s far more difficult to achieve.”
Nicole winced. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”
eleven
Sam was waiting in the medical center when they arrived, paging through one of the displays. He looked up as the door opened, his expression settling into something wooden. “Nicole,” he greeted her, his voice neutral.
“Hello to you, too, Sam,” Nicole said, matching his tone. “Kahkitah said you wanted to see me.”
“Yes.” His eyes flicked to Kahkitah. “Just leave him outside.”
“But I want to help,” Kahkitah protested before Nicole could answer. “You said I could help.”
“You already did,” Sam said. “You found Nicole and brought her here. That was what I needed, and you did it very well. Thank you. You can go away now.”
“But—” Kahkitah broke off, looking helplessly at Nicole.
“It’s all right, Kahkitah,” Nicole soothed. “Don’t worry, I’ll go eat with you like I promised just as soon as Sam and I are done. Wait outside—I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“Well … okay. I guess.” Hunching his shoulders in clear protest, Kahkitah shambled back out into the hall.
The door closed behind him. “A little paranoid, are we?” Sam asked, a bit acidly. “So one scream from you and he’s supposed to come charging to the rescue?”
“You blame me?” Nicole countered.
Sam’s lip twitched. “No, I suppose not,” he conceded.
“Yeah,” Nicole said. “Okay, I’m here. What do you want?”
“Tomas was in here a while ago,” Sam said, his voice a little too casual. “Strained muscles and some odd abrasions. He had this crazy story about you and those little Ponng things charging into Q1, mixing it up with those big round-helmet guys, and then falling down an air vent. Any of that true?”
Nicole shrugged. “He caught the highlights.”
“Uh-huh.” Sam fixed her with a hard stare. “So what’s the deal? You got an actual plan, or just seeing how pissed off you can make everyone?”
“Why does that matter to you?”
“Because I work here, too,” Sam shot back. “That means I’m going to be one of the ones they dump out the airlock if you push them too far.”
“Oh, relax,” Nicole scoffed. “No one’s coming after you. If they dump anyone, it’ll be me.”
“And Jeff?” Sam countered. “And Levi, and Tomas, and whoever else you’re able to talk into this?”
“Maybe,” Nicole said, feeling her stomach tighten. “Still not you.”
“I’m a doctor,” Sam said stiffly. “I’m supposed to care about all my patients. So again: Is there an actual plan?”
Nicole hesitated, studying his face. Whenever she’d talked to him before, she’d never seen anything except smoldering anger and resentment at the Wisps and Shipmasters—and Nicole—for dragging him away from Earth. But now, almost buried in the glower, she could see a new earnestness. An interest, maybe, in what was happening outside the strict boundaries he’d built around his life here.
Interest, awareness … and maybe, just maybe, a whisper of hope.
“Yes, there’s a plan,” she told him.
“Good,” Sam said with a curt nod. “I want in.”
Nicole blinked. “Excuse me?”
“What, was that too complicated?” Sam growled.
“No, just too far out of left field,” Nicole said. “Since when have you cared about anything on the Fyrantha except yourself?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Protector,” Sam said sourly. “I don’t care a rat’s sphincter about the ship or your charity cases.”
“Yeah, that really makes me want to open up to you.”
Sam clenched his teeth and hissed out a breath. “Okay. Look. When we all got hauled off to the Q1 arena Fievj told the green team that if they won the fight they would be sent home.”
“And they lied.”
“Did they?” Sam countered. “Yeah, I know no one went back. My question is, could they have sent the greens back if they’d wanted to?”
Nicole hesitated. What should she say? “Fievj says they send the aliens from the arenas back to their home planets when they’re done with them.”
“Do we know that for a fact?”
“Not really,” Nicole admitted. “But if it is true, then yes, they can probably send us back to Earth if they want to.”
“But they probably don’t?”
“Oh, absolutely they don’t,” Nicole said grimly. “We’re the only people who can finish fixing the ship, and they’re desperate to get that done.”
“But they can always bring in new people, can’t they?”
Briefly, Nicole thought about what Miron had said about their Sibyls being taken away. Was that what the Shipmasters were doing? Preparing to bring in fresh blood who hadn’t interacted with the Fyrantha’s Protector? “Sure they can,” she said. “But anyone new would have to be trained before they’d be useful. They’d have—what’s that thing called?”
“You mean a learning curve?”
“Right—a learning curve,” Nicole said. “But we’re already trained, so right off the curb we’re better workers for them. That means they’re not going to kill off anyone they don’t absolutely have to.”
“But they’re also not going to let anyone go.”
“No.”
“Okay,” Sam said, his eyes narrowing a little. “So here’s the question. If your plan succeeds, can you get us home? Maybe a better question: Will you get us home?”
“If it succee
ds, I’ll certainly try.”
“All right.” Sam seemed to brace himself. “All right. Like I said, I’m in.”
“Great,” Nicole said carefully.
But only great if he was sincere about wanting to join up. If this was another game he or Bungie or the Shipmasters had come up with, his grand gesture was useless.
The only slightly smaller question was even if he was sincere whether there was anything he could do that would be useful.
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Sam said. “So what do you want me to do? I mean, besides being there to patch up your army after the dust settles.”
“Right,” Nicole said, thinking fast. She needed something that would keep him out of the way but still make him feel useful. “Okay. You saw the Koffren. Big and nasty, and they’ve got swords and spider guns. We’re not going to win against them without some advantage of our own. Is there some kind of drug you can whip up that would give us more strength or speed?”
“You mean amphetamines?” Sam asked, frowning. “I don’t know. Those can be dangerous.”
“So is facing off against someone who’s three hundred pounds of muscle.”
“Actually, I doubt they weigh more than two hun—”
“Whatever,” Nicole cut him off. “Can you make us up something, or should I go ask Allyce instead?”
“No, I can do it,” Sam said with strained patience. “Lucky for you, because Allyce isn’t here.”
Nicole frowned. “What do you mean, not here? Where did she go?”
“No idea,” he said. “She came in after we got back from the fight, collected a bunch of stuff, and left.”
“That seems odd.”
“Yeah, nice of you to notice,” Sam said sarcastically. “Sometimes you seem to pay attention to everything on this ship except us.”
“Trust me,” Nicole said. “Everything is part of my job.”
“I had a supervisor once who thought that way,” Sam said. “Took charge of everything, and screwed all of it up. So. Amphetamines or something like it. You want me to let you know when I’ve got it together?”
Nicole shook her head. “Easier for me to touch base with you when I get the chance. I’ll be moving around a lot and probably be hard for you to find.”