The City and the Ship

by Anne McCaffrey

  There was a pause, then a woman's voice broke the silence.

  "This is Joat Simeon-Hap, Soamosa, captain of the Wyal. I assume the disease you're referring to is the one that destroys a part of the brain, leaving its victims like very young children?"

  "Yes," the younger woman choked. Soamosa pressed her fist uselessly to her face-plate and then snatched it away with an annoyed sound.

  "We're immunized and we have a controlled environment on the ship where we can lodge you."

  "Oh!" Soamosa cried out in relief, and her heart filled to overflowing with gratitude.

  She disconnected from her couch and flung herself at the nearest hand-hold. Scrambling towards the lock, all elbows and knees, Soamosa felt tears warming her cheeks. She reached the keypad, released the lock and flung herself into the suited arms of the woman who waited without. Their helmets knocked together with a resounding clang.

  "Easy, girl!" Joat said, laughing. "These helmets cost a fortune." She held the girl awkwardly, feeling her trembling even through their suit's thickness. Joat gave Soamosa an occasional thump in the area of her shoulder blades in hopes the girl would soon feel comforted enough to release the death-grip she had on Joat's waist. "C'mon now," she said bracingly, "who've we got here." She gently but firmly pried Soamosa off and turned her towards the fighter's interior.

  "It is Karak who is most in need of aid," Soamosa said urgently. "His fever is one hundred and four and he has been unconscious for over an hour." She began to tug Joat into the fighter.

  "He the Kolnari?" Joat asked.

  "Yes, he saved us."

  "He did?"

  Joat quickly saw that the Kolnari would have to be removed first, before the other figure in the lower seat could get out. Soamosa was lithe and slim and so could maneuver in that tight space with ease. But Captain Sung was both older and significantly thicker bodied. And one glance into his frightened, confused eyes told her that getting him out was going to be a project to remember.

  "Okay," she said somewhat impatiently. "Karak goes first. Grab his other arm, Soamosa, then get at his feet and keep his rear end from catching on anything. Rand?"

  "Yes Joat."

  "Could you ask Seg to meet me at the air-lock with that cargo sled?"

  "He's on his way."

  * * *

  Once in the Wyal's gravity Karak seemed to weigh a ton. What with the thick, metal-heavy Kolnari bones and the great, muscled length of him, they nearly herniated themselves getting him onto the cargo sled.

  Joat stood back and blew out an exhausted breath, put her hands on her hips. I should have asked Rand to flux the gravity, like we did for the power suit.

  "Who did you say this osco was?" she asked aloud.

  "He is Karak t'Marid," Soamosa answered in a tight, anxious voice, never taking her eyes off him.

  "t'Marid?" Joat frowned.

  Soamosa looked at her and licked her lips.

  "He is Belazir's eldest son," she said, then she looked at him again.

  "Can we use him as a hostage?" Seg whispered eagerly.

  "No way," Joat told him with a dismissive gesture, "the Kolnari eat their young."

  "Only very rarely," Soamosa protested. "For special ceremonies, Karak said, or under the most dire of circumstances." She looked up into their stunned silence and blushed. "In any case, you may be sure that if they did ransom him it would only be to destroy him. You must not return Karak to them," she cried passionately.

  "He saved us, even the Captain, which was very awkward. Please help him! He is deserving of your aid, I promise you. He warned us of a plot to destroy Bethel and he was taking us there to thwart Belazir's plan when he was stricken." Her gaze turned defiant and she cradled Karak's massive paw in her own small hands. "And what is more, I love him."

  Oh, wow! Joat thought That oughta jump-start Amos. He'll probably come out of that box like he was spring loaded.

  She held her hands out at chest level in a soothing motion and said, half-laughing, "Look, if giving him back would make them happy, that's the last thing I'm going to do. So just relax and we'll get him into cargo hold C so that Seg here can take a look at him." I should have put a revolving door on that place, she thought uneasily.

  Joat tapped in the destination on the cargo sled's keypad and they followed it down the corridor. Soamosa carrying the big Kolnari's hand and cooing reassurance, Seg dragging info out of the auto-doc that no one else she knew could either get or understand.

  In years to come, she thought with a grin, I'm going to wish I had a holo-snap of Joseph's face when he realizes just what her hero is.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Buster Rauchfuss read the memo from Dana Sherman regarding Bros Sperin's request for one hundred and twenty thousand credits.

  Is Sperin crazy? he thought. No documentation, no explanation, no report of any kind? Just a bald-faced demand for more money than I'll ever see in my lifetime. He couldn't authorize this. Even if I wanted to!

  Besides, Sperin was on leave from his department, so this request shouldn't even have come to him.

  I'll just kick it up to Mancini, Buster thought with sour satisfaction. Let him lose sleep over it.

  He hadn't liked the way Sperin had been removed from his supervision without explanation. "Security reasons," Mancini had said. Like I'm some kind of neo who can't be trusted. Sperin had been his man, dammit. And he'd felt a certain cachet just being the supervisor of such a distinguished field agent.

  Then Buster glanced at the memo in his hand, suddenly relieved that Bros Sperin wasn't his any longer. He hummed as he composed the memo he'd be sending.

  Dear Paul, he began. I'm sure you know more about this than I do . . .

  * * *

  When the lock opened, Joseph rushed forward anxiously, his hands outstretched.

  "Lady Sierra Nueva," his eyes appraised her, "you are well?"

  "Quite well, thank you, Ser ben Said," Soamosa responded with automatic graciousness. "Though my savior is in sore distress, as you can see."

  Joseph glanced down at the figure on the cargo sled and choked, his eyes fairly bulging. A tide of intense red swept from his neck to his hair line, making the blue of his eyes still more startling.

  "A Kolnari?" he said, with a quiet viciousness more deadly than a shout. "I will not allow this creature to share a single molecule of air with me!" He glared at Joat. "Space him," he commanded.

  Joat raised one eyebrow and pursed her lips. After a moment of strained silence he muttered: "If you would, Captain."

  "I've done it before, Joe, so don't go thinking I'm squeamish. But apparently this boy rescued the lady and Captain Sung for no other reason than he loves her."

  Joseph barked a high-pitched sound of disbelief.

  "What's more, he was piloting her to Bethel to warn them about Belazir's plot."

  "You cannot believe that!" Joseph protested. "I can see an innocent, inexperienced young girl falling for such nonsense. But Joat, you have seen and known a great deal more than she has. You cannot be such a fool."

  Joat shrugged.

  "I can't see any benefit to Belazir in this." She pointed at the body on the sled. "This is his son—according to Soamosa—his oldest son. You tell me, why would he sacrifice him?"

  Joseph turned away with a disgusted sound, then he swung back and said in a low fierce voice, "We have only his word that he is Belazir's son. I do not call that proof."

  "It's not like you to be blinded by prejudice, Joe. Look at him. If there's one thing I'm not likely to forget, it's what Belazir t'Marid looks like. That boy is a copy of him. In any event, the first time in recorded history that a Kolnari does a good deed, I don't think the proper response is to stuff him out the air-lock. So, you're just going to have to be patient with me and put up with him."

  Without another word Joseph turned and walked over to Amos, leaning close to speak with him.

  Joat rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue in dismay. The quarantine hold wasn't that big. Ha
h!, the ship isn't big enough to hold this kind of rancor. Wake up, Amos! We need you.

  She strolled over to the sled and tapped Soamosa on the shoulder.

  "I need you to help me get the Captain in here."

  "Oh," the girl looked distressed. "Must I go?" She indicated Seg with a fluid gesture. "Could not your assistant aid you?"

  "My friend is helping your friend," Joat explained patiently. "Besides, the Captain will know you, where he doesn't know us."

  "No," Soamosa murmured, shaking her head sadly, "he will not. Nor does he recognize anyone else, or anything." Her eyes filled with sorrow: "It is truly terrible, what they have done to him."

  "Yeah," Joat agreed. "The Kolnari specialize in that sort of thing. And I'm not too happy about what they've done to Amos, either."

  "Amos? The Benisur Amos?"

  For the first time the girl looked around her. Immediately, her eyes fell on Amos, laying deathly still in the rescue pod, looking like nothing so much as a man in his coffin.

  She shrieked and fell to her knees, babbling, "No, oh no, oh no . . ." over and over.

  Joseph walked over to her again and knelt beside her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  "He is well, Lady. Only drugged, but the Benisur is conscious, he knows you are here. Will you come and speak to him?"

  Soamosa looked at him in horror.

  "He is well, I assure you. Dr. !T'sel here was looking for an antidote to the drug the Kolnari gave him. But then he was distracted." Joseph glared at Seg as he said this.

  "This is a very sick man," Seg told him firmly, "I'm afraid that takes precedence. The Benisur will recover from the drug very nicely all on his own. Karak here is going to need some doctoring."

  Joat watched Soamosa's distress grow, the girl's head whipped from Karak, to Joseph, to Amos and back again.

  She laid her hand on Soamosa's shoulder and said briskly, "You'll have plenty of time later to talk to Amos, and Karak is in good hands with Seg. Meanwhile I need help with Captain Sung and you're already in a suit." She gave Soamosa a reassuring smile. "We'll only be a few minutes."

  Soamosa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, she stood.

  "Very well," she said calmly, her voice shaking only a little.

  Joat raised a brow, impressed. Not quite the sheltered Bethelite maiden she seems. I think this oasis rose was carved from steelite.

  Soamosa turned to Joseph and spoke with the hauteur of twenty generations of aristocrats: "Ser ben Said, if you can not reconcile your feelings for the Kolnari, then I suggest that you keep away from my friend. For I will not suffer him to be hurt." She narrowed her eyes. "Neither will I tolerate any insult being offered to him. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Quite clear, Lady," Joseph answered quietly.

  Well said, young cousin, Amos thought. I am sorry that you have had this terrible experience, and yet, you have grown. You sound like a woman now and not a silly girl.

  To find her changed so much for the better, in spite of the pain and humiliation she had endured at Belazir's hands was nothing short of a miracle. Inside his mind he smiled. I do not think your mother will find you very easy to manipulate after this. He imagined her mother's face as Soamosa presented Karak as her dear friend and hero.

  Oh child, he thought in amused dismay, she will never speak to either of us again. For that matter, they'd probably be stoned to death anywhere on Bethel, unless he put guards around them every hour of the day—and he would have to pick the guards carefully. No Bethelite would accept any Kolnari on equal terms; never mind as a potential son-in-law. They had lost too many loved ones to the Kolnari's casual cruelty. Not a family on the planet had been untouched by the brief but violent occupation. And the pirates had planned to sear the world down to bedrock when they finished looting it.

  This will not be easy, he thought. It may not even be possible. Child, child . . .

  * * *

  Joat sank exhausted into her chair on the bridge. She didn't know what was worse: Sung's blank-eyed terror and the small shrill sounds he made when they'd suddenly passed into the Wyal's gravity, or the infantile gratitude with which he'd hugged Soamosa when she took off her helmet.

  She shuddered. Then she popped the top on the container of coffee she'd grabbed from the galley and gratefully took a sip of the hot, fragrant brew.

  Kraig's nostrils flared at the scent, but he remained quiet, watching her carefully from the prison of his frozen suit.

  "Rand, patch me through to Al, will you?"

  In a moment Alvec's voice came through the com.

  "Yo, boss. You wanted to talk to me?"

  "Just wanted to know how it's going out there, buddy."

  "Quiet. Nothin' to report, really. Wyal's where the action is."

  "You've got that right, Al. Would you believe Soamosa's in love with that Kolnari she brought in? Joe wants me to space him, Seg, I don't doubt, wants to study him, and Amos just lies there. Who knows what he wants."

  She sighed wearily. "I think we should blow the fighter they came in. It's contaminated and we can't be bothered to salvage it, not with so much else to do. Can you manage that for us?"

  "No problem, boss." By his voice Joat knew his eyes were gleaming. "You should see this weapons system ol' Kraig's got here."

  "Yeah, when it comes to weapons there's no such thing as enough, for the Kolnari. Only things left regretfully behind."

  Seg came quietly onto the bridge.

  At Joat's questioning look he said, "I've got the young Kolnari stabilized. Fascinating reaction. I can't tell you how much I miss my lab!"

  It was obvious from the passion in his voice. Joat smiled. Seg was a different being when he was in professional mode. As an espionage wannabe he might be a figure of fun, but as a scientist he was definitely a being to respect.

  "I'm receiving a transmission from Central Worlds," Rand announced.

  "Attention merchanter ship Wyal. Message received. Repeat, message received. We will act on your information immediately. Message ends."

  "That's it?" Joat sat forward in outrage. "That's all they have to say?"

  "Well, they wouldn't tell us anything that might be intercepted," Alvec mumbled. Under his breath: "I never did like those straight-leg bast . . . children of irregular origin."

  "You can't intercept a tight-beam message," she snapped. She flung herself back in her seat. "It could be days. It's already been days." Her lips narrowed to an angry line, and her fingers beat a rapid tattoo on the arms of her chair. "We've got to do something or he's dead."

  Her eyes strayed to her prisoner and met Kraig's. She smiled, showing her teeth and his Adam's apple bobbed prodigiously. "That's right," she murmured, "be afraid—be very afraid."

  Seg cleared his throat.

  "You're determined to carry through with this idea of rescuing Bros?"

  She nodded.

  "Al can take the rest of you in the Wyal," she said. "I assume Clenst has some sort of facility for this sort of thing? Decontamination, debriefing?"

  "Yes, the very finest," Seg assured her. He drew himself up to his full height. "Um. I have . . . certain discretionary," he waved a hand uncertainly, "powers, I suppose you could say. I can authorize the engagement of up to a battalion of Yoered Family mercenaries."

  He stood looking at her eagerly, his large eyes round, like a schoolboy awaiting praise and fearing censure.

  Joat's smile was brilliant as she rose from her chair and gave a sweeping bow: "The com is yours."

  "Joat," Rand said, "perhaps you should discuss this with Joseph. He will both need and want to know what decisions are being made here."

  Joat blinked.

  "Rand, that's downright sensitive! You're becoming more human every day."

  "Thank you, Joat. I know you meant that as a compliment."

  She blinked again and raised her brows. Then she went to Alvec's station.

  "Rand, give me cargo hold C."

  They'd brought in
cots and a small store of self-heating food for their passengers' comfort, and they'd rigged up a curtained off area with a port-a-potty in it. Their passengers wouldn't be able to wash, but they'd survive that.

  And even if I get my debt to Ciety cleaned up—amazing how unimportant that seemed now—I still can't afford to have the whole ship decontaminated. Viruses were nasty little things, even natural ones. Designed for durability, you might have to put the ship into a graving dock stationside and strip her to the hull to get them all.

  Cargo hold C was designed for live cargo and was a self-contained, self-sterilizing facility. So even if they did impound the Wyal for a few months they'd be hard pressed to find an excuse for destroying her.

  Of course it wouldn't matter then, because after a few months of not earning any income, Wyal wouldn't belong to her any more. Come to think of it, legally, it already as good as belongs to dear old Uncle Nom. Even if they returned from this mission, which he clearly didn't expect, she couldn't see him quietly writing off a hundred twenty thousand credits. And who do I have for witnesses that he'll give Wyal back to me in exchange for running this errand? No one the Yoered Family would pay attention to.

  Joat frowned at the unwelcome thought, then brushed it aside. She sat forward, her eyes fixed on Joseph where he sat at Amos's side, glaring at Karak.

  "Joe."

  His head came up. "Yes, Captain."

  Fardles! Still prickly. Aloud she said: "We've heard from Central Worlds. Basically all they did was acknowledge our message."

  Joseph snorted. "What a great surprise that is. Did they at least imply that they were going to respond in any other way?"

  She smiled bitterly. They'd both had experience with the ponderous bureaucracy of Central Worlds.

  "In the broadest possible terms. Um. We're going to have Al destroy the fighter our friends came in. We can't bring it and we dare not leave it and risk the spread of this contagion."

  "Wise," he said laconically. "Thank you for keeping me informed. Is there anything else?"