LXXIII
At Akatnu Field, the Kestren's systems were powered down. Enough air circulated to lighten the cloud of incense originating in the galley, and to draw off the smoke from the waxberry candles, but little else was in service. Lish followed the spicy scent of duskthorn into the interior of the ship, and stopped at the threshold of another world.
There was no disguising the crew unit of the freighter, but Devin's preparations had gone far to create the illusion of a modest Lahaj temple. Cloth of flowing yellow draped food station, fresher, and the console of environmental controls, hiding their technological intrusion away from sight. The pull-down comp table held censer and a bowl of shredded duskthorn. Galley table had become silk-concealed altar. An inscribed wooden tablet held pride of place amid the offerings of flowers and fruit, with statuary arrayed to each side. Water and wine stood before the tablet, with white candles illuminating all.
The flickering tapers gave the chamber a warm and primitive air. Devin saw Lish enter and stepped silently into the room from his adjoining cabin. He came and took her hand with a reassuring smile. She looked from him to the modest wonders that had transformed the compartment.
"It's magical," she breathed, and squeezed her clanmate's hand.
She felt like a small child again. The altar looked much like the one her parents had brought her to on her coming of age, and again when she had left their ship to live and work aboard the old Jacklamb. The inscribed tablet would hold a list of names of Teskal Devin's most honored ancestors; inside might be a data-chip recording biographies and more personal anecdotes, as her parents had concealed inside the ancestral tablet for the Gabrieya sept. The colors of yellow and white were the tokens of Ashani the Protector, the only possible choice for patron of the merios.
The narcotic smoke of the burning duskthorn was the crowning touch, something restricted to ceremonies performed only by adult Shirani on rare and sacred occasions. Lish had left her clan before sampling those various rites of passage; the pungent scent brought home both the thrill of doing a forbidden thing, and a consciousness of joining the ranks of the adults of her clan for the first time.
Painfully aware of her feeling of vulnerability, she left it to Devin to lead the way, as befitted his role as ship's Captain. She followed his motions, beginning with ritual purification with sprinkled water, then a sharing of wine, and a time of chanting the prayers and mantras taught by the Lahaj, priest-disciples of the lau-zim philosophy. It had been years since she had chanted, or given any thought to Sa'adani spirituality. Her initial awkwardness gradually gave way to remembered routine, and she found herself caught up in the ritual of merids.
Return to ancient customs came with unnerving ease to Lish, who had thought herself freed of the traditional ways of her birth-clan. Joining Devin was to step back in time, to a line of continuity that bound her ancestors to her own earlier life. She found herself stripping before her kinsman without self-consciousness, as he did before her, helping each other to dress in the white robes signifying pure intentions and new beginnings. Devin faced the altar, drawing his clanmate down to kneel with him before it. Putting hands together, they bowed formally from the waist to the deities memorialized there, icons glowing in the candlelight, tokens of forces greater than man.
The figurines followed conventional forms. Devin's were of classic design, of minute carving and intricately detailed workmanship. The first was a wingless dragon of gold, twining sinuously back upon itself, every scale catching the light of the candles. The second was a miniature shelter of thatching worked in delicately carved ivory, symbol of the means to survive in a harsh environment. The third was a glittering figurine of milky white and translucent crystal, cut in the shape of a woman in windblown robes, hair piled ornately upon her head.
Devin touched the god-statues, invoking one after the other. Lish echoed him in the blessing-refrain she had learned as a child.
"Windlord's flight," spoke Devin, raising the dragon.
"Usembo's might," she recited the affirmation.
"In brave one's sight—" He clasped the shelter.
"Korbato's night."
"Protector's right." He lifted the goddess.
"Ashani's light."
Devin dropped more duskthorn into the censer, and a fresh waft of smoke coiled upward from the bowl. In the shadows of the room, Lish imagined she could see the invoked spirits gathering to watch over them: Usembo, dragon lord of winds and bringer of good fortune; Korbato, patron of spacefarers, a hardy godling who aided survival against the elements; and Ashani the Protector, who kept people safe from dangers natural or man-made. They were beings she had dismissed in her cynical youth, but now, in the dark, with the drugged smoke of the incense in her nostrils, it was easy to believe in them once more.
She followed Devin then on a chanting sojourn throughout the ship, bearing candles and incense to bring the light of Ashani into every corner of the vessel that would be new-created that night. Forward to the flight deck they went, through the holds, the gun turrets, then aft to Engineering and back again, stopping in every cubby and byway along the way.
As they went, it became a game, like the spice hunt held to celebrate the name-day of Shirani children. Who would be the first to reach the next compartment, to open the next hatchway? There was a somber moment of invocation to the Protector, a sedate chant, and then the puckish rush to cast open every locker and accessway they encountered. Merios was intended to fill a vessel with joy and light, to signify happy new beginnings. The procession to dispel darkness became an uplifting and joyful celebration, the pace accelerating until they nearly raced each other back to the altar at the end of it all. There the chants concluded with a prayerful shout and a growing sense of joy. Devin shared out more wine, and Lish could not tell if the muzziness of her head was from the drink or the duskthorn smoke. No matter; both were welcome, and her spirit was lightened. Anything seemed possible now.
Setting down the wine, Devin fetched a small plaque from beneath the ancestor tablet on the altar. It was a besk, an icon of blessing and christening and good wishes combined. One like it was carried on every Shiran-owned ship.
This one was platinum, a handspan long, two fingers wide; it bore the calligraphic symbols for the deities invoked this night, the new name of the freighter, and a short prayer for safe voyages and the happiness of the crew. Lish watched as Devin purified the besk in smoke and water and flame, and asked his ancestors' blessings upon it. Then she helped him affix it over the door of his cabin, in the place where the Captain's sleep could be watched over by the gods of travelers and spacefarers.
Fortune, he had renamed the ship. She knew he meant that in the sense of good luck, not greed, and smiled at his undemanding nature.
She was still smiling when he put his arms around her and kissed her. Then he bent down to kiss the hollow of her neck, and for a moment she was conscious of his caste mark laser-scribed on his jaw, and the absence of her own. Trying to disown all this, she recalled, that's why I had it removed. Was it so bad with the Traders after all?
Then his embrace carried her away, and she spared no more thoughts to the past.
Much later she thought of her kinsmen and parents and all her clanmates who had shared a time like this with their partner. Unlike those other Shirani, she would not be traveling with Devin aboard the Fortune. It was for that reason alone, she thought, that tears came to her eyes as she lay afterward in his arms.
He brushed her tears away without remarking on them, and for that she was glad.
LXXIV
Zippo snuffled through red data packets, the product of a decryption run, and recognized the name associated with every packet he found. Barking in sudden excitement, the agent ran his simself to the nearest external com link, and bayed his news to Commander Obray.
Translated through the matrix, the words came in the clear to the Security officer.
"It's Karuu!" Zippo almost shouted his discovery. "We can trace every transaction r
ight back to him. Every offworld transfer was authorized by him or one of his agents."
"Where's this money now?" the Commander asked.
"We can't say, yet," the bulldog reported. "We need to investigate more."
"Do it. We're talking about enough money to finance a small world with."
"We're on it, Commander."
The decker left the com link and Obray considered all that money funneled offworld. That was the trail to follow, right there.
He was on to something big, he knew—and who better to investigate a hitherto unsuspected multiworld conspiracy?
Juro's teeth, he thought, I want to ask that Holdout some questions.
That prompted Obray. to do what Internal Security rarely did. He posted a reward for information leading to Karuu's arrest, and made it a figure at the very outside of his generous budgetary limits.
Someone somewhere knew about the fugitive smuggler. And Obray was going to find that person, one way or another.
LXXV
The intimate mood lingered into the morning, as Lish helped Devin put the Fortune to rights. When they sat down to breakfa: in the galley, Devin swept her hand up and kissed her fingers. "I want to thank you," he said. "There's no one I would rather have shared merios with than you."
Lish colored. Devin's words put an uncomfortable spotlight on the intimacy that now lay between them.
"Thanks," was all she replied. She withdrew her fingers and busied herself with the pretense of ordering breakfast from the prep unit. "Say," she changed the subject, "when are you lifting to go on this run?"
Devin took the conversation turn gracefully. "As soon as the 'Jammers get here and preflight is done. I want to take it easy heading out, since this will be first shakedown after all these repairs." Worry tinged his voice. "We're cutting it kind of close. Four days out, four back, that leaves three days leeway. Will they have the nanotech ready for us to ship?"
Lish paused for a heartbeat, then nodded. "The Camisq designed the borgbeasts, so they already had the replication scheme calculated for the nanotech. The goods will be ready by time you get there."
She put spicy reis cakes, broth-noodles, and tea on the table, then sat beside Devin—not quite as closely as before. She fell quiet as she ate breakfast, but the real reason for her silence was enough to kill her appetite.
When she had insisted on a two-week delivery deadline, the Camisq had called it a rush order and doubled the price. Her money counted only as half-price deposit, not full payment. The rest was due before they would release the goods to Devin.
She forced the food down, involuntarily worrying at the problem that had occupied her secretly for the last week and a half, and was now, thanks to the spacer's questions, in the forefront of her mind once again.
I'm getting that nanotech, she promised herself grimly, even if FlashMan has to raid someone's net account so I can afford it.
Sergeant Eklun and another Skiffjammer named Zay came on hoard within the hour. As Lish stood to leave, her clanmate beckoned her into his cabin where he moved to kiss her good-bye. She hesitated, then went along with the gesture, unwilling to rebuff the man about to undertake potential risk on her behalf.
"See you in less than a week," he promised.
"Less than a week," she agreed, and departed the ship.
Devin watched her go with mixed emotions. It would be nice if she would crew the Fortune, too, but too much else demanded her time and attention. Struggling to keep afloat. Dealing with the terrorists.
Sinking surface shipping.
No, that's not fair, the Captain corrected the involuntary thought. She's not responsible for how those beasts are used. We've been over that ground before. But I sure have a problem with it.
He didn't like being a part of something that would help terrorists kill innocent sailors in Selmun waters. It didn't matter how roundabout his contribution might be. Obligation to Lish came first, without question. The borgbeasts, though, enabled to live in the sea and continue their rampage ... Maybe later, somehow, he could help authorities locate the terrorists. Lish didn't care what happened to the Gambru League, not after she was paid.
It was a quandary he could not resolve yet, and so he walked away from it as he turned his back on Lish's departing figure. One thing at a time, that was the way to take care of business. First, get the Fortune back upstairs, where she belonged, and after that, warp to Tion.
It's easy, he told himself. Just one thing at a time.
LXXVI
Vask couldn't watch Reva psionically all the time. That would take a superhuman effort, not called for in her days of fitful inactivity. He had to pick and choose his times for blindspotting, and relied more and more on ordinary surveillance.
When Lish returned from Akatnu Field and Reva followed her behind closed doors, he left the pair to another unmonitored conversation, as he increasingly had, and merely loitered in view of hallway and door.
Lish retreated to the solarium alcove in the study, where lush exotic ferns and a small burbling waterfall made a soothing place to relax and think. Reva followed her into the room and stood inside the door that had closed behind her.
The assassin was in her traveling clothes, dress-clad, in heels ready to blend into any starport crowd and vanish amid throngs of like-clothed passengers. The electric blue of the Lyndir-cut fashion and platinum blond hair she affected this day made her look like a stranger, not like the dark-haired, shadow-eyed woman who had been haunting the hallways for most of the last week.
Reva's garb meant nothing special to Lish, who noted her presence with mixed feelings. Not wishing to be rude, she nevertheless wanted to be alone.
"Guess what?" she said to the assassin. "Islanders are off our backs. Would you like to come back later, when Captain Levay fills me in on the details?"
Reva regarded the smuggler impassively. "No," she replied. "I only came by to give you this."
A triangular blue chit flipped through the air, bounced atop a water-splashed paving stone at the lip of the solarium pond. It was the pass to Tyree Longhouse on Des'lin.
Recognition flashed across the smuggler's face, and she left the chit where it landed. "Why?" She sounded a little hurt. "What's this about?"
"I won't be using it again, and I don't want to have it on me."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm leaving, that's all."
Her tone of finality gave Lish to understand her meaning. "Leaving?" the Holdout echoed. "You mean gone? For good?"
Reva nodded, and walked toward the door. She didn't trust herself to prolong this conversation, or to finish it with words like good-bye. It was easier, just out the door and gone.
"Wait!" Lish said. "You can't go like this."
It taxed Reva's self-control to hear that. "Watch me," she mumbled through her teeth, and reached to palm the door open.
The Holdout came to her feet. "Lords of Ice, what's wrong? Talk to me."
The assassin halted with her hand on the doorplate, not yet pressing it open. She hung her head, took a shuddering breath. Sea Father, she prayed, help me walk out of this room.
"Reva."
The smuggler's tone was pleading, and Reva couldn't ignore her. There were no words sufficient, and too much to say, and she couldn't stand it any longer.
"Nothing's wrong," she denied, turning slowly about, and started moving toward Lish. Her clenched fists were silent witness to the tension she held inside. The Holdout noticed, and felt a twinge of concern.
The hesitation on her face provoked Reva. ' 'How plain do you want to hear this?"
"Hear what?"
The assassin jutted her chin towards the blue house pass. "That's yours. I don't want it. I'm not your houseguest, I'm not your friend, and I don't want to have anything to do with you. Is that, clear enough? Can I go, now?"
Lish gaped, astounded, then shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know what's bothering you, but I don't think that's it. At least be honest with me."
&n
bsp; Honesty? Reva choked back a laugh. "Here's honesty for you. What in the Deep are you thinking about, sleeping with Devin? You go off like a nervous schoolgirl and come back like a well-laid whore when your business, your derevin, your friends all depend on you to—'' She heard her voice escalating in pitch, felt her resentment of Devin, her unreasoning anger. She stopped herself before she could say something she'd regret. "You've got to keep your mind on your business," she spat instead, "and fucking your pilot isn't going to get you anywhere. You're in so deep you're close to drowning, and all you can think about is getting laid."
Lish bridled at the personal attack. "You don't know anything about it," she retorted. "You have no business criticizing my personal life."
"Right. Guess it doesn't really matter anymore." The assassin spun and headed for the door.
"Reva, damn you, don't you walk out on me again!"
That brought her up short, and she rounded on Lish immediately. "I'm not trying to walk out on you, you infuriating bitch, I'm trying to save your life!"
It came out as a shout, a secret confession that left her red-faced and shaking.
Lish took in her friend's body language with consternation, and softened her voice when she spoke. "What do you mean by that? What's really going on, here?"
Why? Reva screamed in her head. Why is she asking me, of all people?
The assassin felt rooted to the spot and forced herself to stir. Her hands were trembling and she clasped them before her in a white-knuckled grip. What to say?
"There's a contract out on you." She forced the words past the constriction in her throat. "Your life's in danger.'.'
Lish paled, and sat abruptly. She couldn't take her eyes off Reva's face. "How do you know this?"
"You need to shut down your operations. Get off of R'debh and don't come back."
"Shut down—"
"Better yet, disappear. Change your identity. I can help you with that, if you want."
The Holdout saw moisture glisten in Reva's eyes. She repeated her question in a tremulous voice. "How do you know about this?"
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