Hermes came in.
“I gather you want to give me the ship. I don’t want it. It’s your ship.”
“Then fucking sell it or give it back to Zofi-Brennan or fly it into the sun or something. I don’t care.”
He nodded and left.
The next visitor was Lorca.
She stood with hands on hips glaring at me. “You’re a shite of the first order, Crawford MacAdam. A wimp. A chicken-hearted, yellow-bellied, weak-willed, gutless defeatist.”
“But…” I protested feebly.
“If I wasn’t so incensed I’d be sympathetic. I’d be more than sympathetic. You’ve had two tragic losses. That’s two too many for anyone, I agree. But what’s your response? Stand up and fight back against those who did this? No, not Sir Crawford MacAdam. All he wants to do is crawl under the carpet and pull the house down around him.”
She plonked herself on my knee and poked me in the chest.
“Now, you listen to me. You win the Lottery. So what? It doesn’t take any skill or brains or talent or hard work to win the Lottery. So you’re a talentless, brainless being from the back-of-beyond. All you needed to do was jump through the hoops and you were home and dry. That’s what your predecessors did. Only you wouldn’t be home and dry, you’d be dead or dying. Hermes believes that’s what happened to most of them, by the way.
“Unfortunately, or otherwise, you’re not a talentless, brainless being from the back-of-beyond. You come from a civilisation that’s remarkably similar to here. Because of that you don’t believe in free lunches. So you start looking for the hidden catches in this apparently wonderful bounty that's fallen into your lap… and, boy, do you find them. Not only do you find them, you fight back. And from what Hermes has told me you fight low-down, mean and dirty.”
She paused for breath. I was so stunned at her outburst that it never occurred to me to protest.
“Now you could have stopped when you’d got what you wanted; the ship, money and the Commission off your back. Most beings would have. Not Crawford MacAdam. One look at poor Cherevine and it’s back on the white horse with the claymore waving.” Where did she get these expressions? They couldn’t be literal translations, could they? “The result? Twenty three women who rediscovered why they’d tried so hard to be here in the first place. Twenty three women whose panties get wet every time your ugly mug appeared on the trivee.
“Once again you could have stopped there but no, not you. This time you hi-jack your own spaceship and abduct four of us in a frantic mission to save the lives of two small furry animals. You know there’ll be consequences but you don’t care. It’s something that needs doing so you do it. Exactly the same attitude you’ve shown all along.
“Now comes the tricky bit. The first thing is that, along the way, you met up with a number of beings who not only realised what you were doing, but admired it. Admired the being who could tell right from wrong and was prepared to stand up and be counted. More than that, who had the nous and savvy to plan his campaign, to ask for and listen to advice, who was prepared to risk his neck for what he believed was right.
“It wasn't like that,” I protested feebly.
“Shut up and let me finish,” she said fiercely, poking me savagely. “I’ve been doing some research… I’m not just a pretty face, you know. Your lawyer friend; do you know who he is? He’s one of the top five lawyers in Bartimarm; that’s who he is. He wasn't a personal friend of Flerrionna’s. He was the hotel’s legal representative and she went out on a limb to persuade him to help you.
“Hermes. Do you know how old he is? I don’t either but I do know he’s been knocking about for three hundred years. Three hundred years! You don’t get to live that long out there unless you’re pretty damned streetwise. And did you know he owns his spaceship outright. Outright! Do you know how much a spaceship costs? And he owns one all of his own.
“And Flerrionna. You wouldn’t say who it was you were committed to, but I’m glad it was her. I didn’t know her, but I know her reputation. Coming from Earth you wouldn’t realise it, but the Bartimarm Piety was the most prestigious hotel on Geretimal, possibly in the whole Theocracy. To be the manager would be the pinnacle of any hotelier’s career. But Flerrionna was young and it was only the start of hers. She had what it takes to make it to the top.
“Now. Think on this. Why were these important and successful beings willing to drop everything and help you, a nondescript being whose only claim to brilliance was winning the Lottery? Hmm? Answer me that. No, don’t. I’m going to tell you. It’s because you’re not a talentless, brainless non-entity, you’re a natural leader. The trouble is you don’t believe it and try to keep trying to hide it, but, when it’s important, you let it out. And people see it and are influenced by it. By all the gods, Crawford, how many people have you touched since you arrived? Us, Barbita, Taragis, Sir Devoted-Acolyte, a certain trivee director, the owners of a number of restaurants and the gods know how many others.
“So, Sir Leader, you owe us. We need you. All of us who’ve met you and been influenced by you. We need you to stand up and lead us. We’ve hitched our horses to your wagon, or is it the other way round? Whatever, you owe us. Are you going to repay that debt and help or are you going to creep under a stone and abandon us?”
I was dumbfounded. I’d never heard Lorca wax so eloquently or passionately before. Her words penetrated my fog of misery, though. Flerrionna was dead and all the weeping and wailing in the world wouldn’t bring her back. Taragis was also dead just, like me, at the moment he’d found happiness. Others had suffered, too. They’d lost fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, wives and husbands, and friends and colleagues. They were innocent victims even more than I. Lorca was right, I did owe them something. I raised my eyes and looked at her. She threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly.
“Oh, Crawford, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I understand what you’re going through but I need you… we need you… Triss and Jarmasin and Lashak’ka and Hermes, and your lawyer friend, and Barbita and all the girls, and all friends you’ve made. We need you to be strong for us and help us through this tragedy.”
“I don’t understand. That bomb was meant for me.”
“I know, but think what will have happened. Everything will be in chaos. You know the Chairman. Will he be out there keeping things going, getting everything organised, keeping people from panicking?” I snorted. “No, of course he won’t. He’ll be far too busy hiding under his desk.” She gave me a sly look. “Are you going to be like him?”
She knew fine well I’d rise to that one.
“But I don’t know anything about running the Lottery Commission. Besides, nobody’d pay any attention to me.”
“You don’t have to do anything. You just have to be seen. You’re a rallying point. If you’re seen being calm and rational and decisive, others will rally round and get organised.”
“You’re putting a lot of faith in my unproven abilities.”
“Trust me on this.” She slipped off my knee and knelt, taking one of my hands in both of hers. “Please, Crawford, will you do this. For me? For all of us?”
In the back of my mind a voice was wailing, ‘She’s dead. Flerrionna’s dead. She’s gone forever.’ I pushed it as far back as I could and stood, pulling Lorca to her feet.
“I hate it when you’re right. All right, I’ll give it the old college try, as the Americans would say. I do feel some responsibility for all this and I do care about Barbita and Cherevine and Tansy and all the others. And I owe it to Taragis, too, I suppose.”
She kissed me soundly. “I knew you would.”
Chapter 29
The others were gathered disconsolately round the dining room table. They perked up when I entered.
“Okay, Hermes. What’s the story?”
He gave me a long look then nodded. “Pretty much as you heard on the trivee. The Commission has shut up shop and battened down the hatches. No-one is saying anything. Sir Inner-Piety, tw
o Directors and three other senior employees have disappeared. Whether they’re connected with this or just getting out because the heat is on, nobody knows. The Interpellators are pulling in everyone who has ever said anything against the Lottery. Oh, and everyone who was at Sir Adderhay’s party. Honesty-in-Trust says he’s been questioned three times by different sets of Interpellators. He says he’s grateful you didn’t tell him what you were planning as he hasn’t had to lie. He also says he hates your guts for not telling him.” He gave a wry grin. “He’s a lawyer, after all, and you don’t expect sense from lawyers. Both the Supreme Paralogicator and the President have unofficially but openly expressed concern, and there’s a rumour that the Supreme will be making a public statement very soon. In short, it’s chaos.”
“What about the girls?”
“Your breeding partners? I don’t know. They’re locked down tight… no communication in or out. Madam Brabicoso did contact Honesty-in-Trust about three days ago to see if he had any news and made him promise to call her the instant he heard anything, but she wouldn’t answer any questions.”
“What about our home planets?” Lorca asked.
Hermes looked surprised. “I’ve heard nothing, and that, in itself is odd.”
“They’ll know?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. Most of them within two or three days.”
“You’d’ve thought there’d be something.”
“Indeed. That’s what’s odd.”
“Could someone be suppressing the news? Who would they contact?”
Hermes and Lorca exchanged glances. “The Commission,” they said simultaneously.
“So what should I do?” I asked.
“Speak to Honesty-in-Trust,” Hermes advised. “I think he’ll tell you to publicly announce your return… very publicly, but you’d best talk to him.”
“Should I get him out here?”
He gave a hollow laugh. “If he’d had his way he’d be standing here, now. Silly fool wanted to jump in a steegee and come charging out. I had to threaten to shoot him on sight before he could be persuaded to stay where he was.”
“Oh?”
“He’s your lawyer. How many people do you think are watching his every move right now? What do you think they’d do if he suddenly charges off into space?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Neither had he.”
“What about his communicator? Won’t it be tapped or something?”
“If you mean will his calls be monitored, yes. I wouldn’t worry though. When he took yours away for ‘repair’ he’ll have fitted a few safety features.”
“As in encryption devices? That sort of thing?”
“That sort of thing indeed.”
Honesty-in-Trust answered almost before I’d finished dialling.
“Crawford? Are you okay? I’m sorry I had to give you the bad news. I’ve been so worried. I wasn't very tactful.”
“Honesty-in-Trust, you’re babbling. A bad sign in a lawyer.”
“I am, amn't I?” He drew a deep breath. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. No, actually, I’m not fine but I’ve… we’ve a job of work to do as Lorca has pointed out to me.”
“Good. Well, not good at all. I really am sorry, Crawford. You know what I felt about Flerrionna.”
“I do and I appreciate it. But I can’t afford to think about it right now. What do I need to do?”
“Go public. Go very public. Contact the Commission first. Don’t accept any crap from them. Tell them to come to you… without any goons. Do you have any weapons on board?”
I asked Hermes who nodded.
“Good. Does anyone know how to use them? Probably doesn’t matter. It’s the threat that's important. Oh, and you’d better search them, too.”
“Why? Do you think they’re behind this?”
“Not Sir Sacred-Trust-in-God, but who knows who he’ll bring with him. Crawford, these people mean business. You can’t afford to take any chances.”
I swallowed. “Okay. I hear what you say.”
“When you've done that, contact the media… as many of them as you can. You’d better have a prepared statement. Tell them you’re alive and well and very angry about the attack and that you’ll be setting up a press conference as soon as you can organise a safe venue.”
“You mean I should come to Bartimarm?”
“No, no, no. That’s the last thing you want to do. You’re nice and safe up there. Stay there. No, the press conference needs to be somewhere in space.”
“Couldn’t we just do it remotely?”
“No. You need to be there in person to prove you’re really alive and kicking.”
“This is beginning to sound desperate.”
“It is. Believe me, it is. You wouldn’t believe what’s going on down here. That makes it sound like there’s a revolution happening or something. It’s nothing like that. To most of the planet life goes on as usual but, in Bartimarm, the Interpellators, the Exigency Services, the Commission, even the Convocation, are like disturbed anthills. Everyone’s running around trying to look like they’re doing something useful, but nobody’s got a clue about what to do. You don’t seem to realise that this is unprecedented. No-one’s ever burnt down Bartimarm’s oldest hotel before. No-one’s tried to murder the Lottery Winner before.”
“Other than the Commission, you mean.”
He barked a short laugh. “Other than the Commission. There are no precedents, no procedures for dealing with the situation. They’re all way out of their comfort zones and running scared. They might manage to get things under control but, most likely, they’ll end up making them worse.”
“You’re not painting a very bright picture.”
“I’m not and I’m deadly serious. I’m seriously thinking of upping sticks and moving somewhere else.”
“Now you’ve got me scared.”
“Sorry. The truth is I’m as far out of my comfort zone as everyone else and it’s getting to me.”
“Stay calm, Honesty-in-Trust. Please. We need you. We need your cool head and expertise.”
“Yeah. I wonder if your friend Sir Homer Simpission would act as host.”
“He might. I could ask.”
“Do that. Remember to tell him he could be putting himself at risk and don’t be too upset if he says no.”
“I will. What are you going to do?”
“I’m coming out there just as soon as I can organise some transport.”
“Hold on a second.” I turned to Hermes. “Could we send a steegee down for Honesty-in-Trust?”
“We could but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“I know. I could ask Sir Simpission. Honesty-in-Trust, I’ll call you back shortly about transport.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
The others had been listening with frustration to my one-sided conversation. Jarmasin and Lashak’ka blanched when I told them about the preparations Honesty-in-Trust wanted for receiving visitors, but Triss just nodded grimly and Lorca looked thoughtful.
“It sounds bad,” she said.
“As Honesty-in-Trust says, to most people life’s going on as normal. He has an inside view and that probably skews his attitude somewhat.”
“Possibly,” said Hermes. “But, in the end, it’s the actions of the politicians and officials that count. I’m going to make some plans for receiving our visitors while you contact Sir Simpission.”
Lorca and Triss wanted to help. Lashak’ka and Jarmasin looked forlorn.
“I really would appreciate something to eat,” I said. “I think I missed a meal or two somewhere along the line.”
They trotted off grateful to at least be doing something to take their minds off the events that were unfolding. I contacted Sir Simpission.
“I’m very glad you’ve eventually decided to put in an appearance,” he boomed.
“I’m not sure I am, Sir. My medical advisor suggests my continued good health would be better served by
being elsewhere.”
“Ho, ho. You’ve not lost your spirit, then. I take it the ship performed as advertised.”
“It did, indeed. I am mightily impressed.”
“I suppose I should be angry with you for doing your disappearing act. Would you believe there were even suggestions that the ship might have malfunctioned?”
“Never!”
“Oh, yes. Quite extraordinary. As I say, I should be upset, but, given the tragic events that have transpired, it is as well you did. You lost friends, did you not?”
“Yes, Sir. Very close friends and that’s why I’m calling you. I’m going to impose on your good nature and ask for your assistance.” I took a deep breath. “My advisor in Bartimarm tells me that the aftermath of the tragedy has, er, exposed some weaknesses in the official organisations. I’ve also been advised that my reappearance might help to, shall I say, steady some nerves and provide a focus for those attempting to maintain the equilibrium and pursue the perpetrators. As an outsider I have no idea whether it’ll work, but I feel I have to do something.”
I paused. He was silent for so long I thought he’d hung up.
“You appear to have chosen your advisors wisely. Their analysis of the situation on the ground matches mine and the idea of rallying support to your banner is, in my opinion, a sound one. What do you want of me?”
“Thank you, Sir. You have no idea how relieved I am that you agree with our analysis. You could assist in two ways. The first is if you could provide a steegee to bring my lawyer out to the ship for a meeting with the Lottery Commission.”
“Are you sure this is wise?”
“I think so. They need to know I’m here and they need to know I’m not going to be their pawn and I would prefer it to be on my territory rather than theirs.”
“Ho, ho,” he boomed again. “I think we can organise that. Who is your lawyer?”
“Sir Honesty-in-Trust Beloved-of-God.”
“Really? Then you are, indeed, well advised. Tell him to turn up at the port. We’ll see to the rest.”
I Won A Spaceship Page 59