by Kate Elliott
“I don’t understand.” Jenny, moved by this tale, spoke up unexpectedly. “Why would you want to lock these people, these saboteurs, in prison? I’d think they would be heroes.”
Thaelisha folded her hands in her lap, a quiet gesture. “You must understand that the methods these people used were often ones that normal people find repugnant.” She paused. “Quite repugnant.”
“Disgusting,” said Provoniya decisively. “They had—still have, one supposes—the ability to kill without remorse or even a second thought.”
“You mean they enjoyed it?” Jenny asked, unable to comprehend their revulsion.
“Some might have, I suppose. When one has already crossed the line it scarcely makes much difference. At least the mentally ill ones are treatable. The others”—Provoniya shuddered and glanced at Scallop and Thaelisha as if for confirmation—“are simply sociopaths.”
“I see,” murmured Jenny. It was clear to Lily that she did not see at all. Lily herself could only guess at the assumptions that grounded their statements from things Kyosti and Heredes had said to her.
“That isn’t entirely fair.” Scallop addressed himself to Jenny. “It is true that without the saboteurs we could not have extricated ourselves from the Empire. We may deplore their methods, their willingness to use violence to solve what is better solved by negotiation—”
“You know, Ska-morian,” put in Thaelisha to Scallop, “some still say that at that time we had no ground on which to negotiate with the Empire.”
“How hard did we try?” demanded Provoniya. “To find civilized solutions and not opt out once again for the easy solution of violence?”
“There was no widespread fighting,” said Thaelisha gently. “We were spared that much.”
Scallop chuckled. “I’m afraid we’re confusing our visitors. What I meant to say, min Seria, is that a certain undercurrent of, shall we say, admiration—”
“Morbid fascination,” muttered Provoniya, unrepentant.
“—for the saboteurs has always existed. Stories still circulate, more legends, really, by now. The engagement at Betaos led by a handful—no more than five—saboteurs, who held off an entire Kapellan battalion.”
“Massacred one, you mean. They are life just as we are, and deserve the same respect. Common soldiers.”
“That woman Motley who actually snuck into the Imperial capital and wreaked havoc on their main intelligence computers before they caught her. Incredible.”
“What happened to her?” Jenny asked.
“Killed her, of course. I don’t try to excuse their conduct.”
Provoniya grinned. “Still, what a way to go. Can you imagine getting through that security? Some say the only reason they caught her is that she couldn’t resist trying to steal the Imperial slippers off of the Emperor’s feet while he slept.”
“And the master,” continued Scallop, “who had twin sons—one of whom went good and one of whom went—quite bad. They still talk about his masterpiece: rerouting an entire imperial fleet through the wrong vectors. Manually, from Boots Seven.”
“What happened to him?” asked Lily carefully, recognizing the story her half-brother Adam—the “good” twin son—had told her once, long ago, about Heredes.
Scallop shrugged. “No one knows.”
“What about that woman Katajarenta?” asked Thaelisha. “She was half-Sirin, you know, so we heard all lands of tales about her at my circle’s crèche. And that hell-raiser—what was his name? He saved two Ardakians in some engagement and went on working with them after that.”
“Do you really think that’s true?” protested Provoniya. “Everyone knows Pongos won’t work closely with humans because we smell so bad to them.”
Thaelisha shrugged, with a brief smile.
“Or that physician,” Scallop said, still indulging his fascination. “The one who affected blue hair like a je’jiri—” He stopped.
There was no mistaking the expressions on Jenny and Pinto’s faces. Lily, not as surprised, had managed to keep hers neutral.
“Have the stories spread that far?” asked Scallop. “It’s hard to imagine how they could. It’s only been thirty-four years since emancipation.”
Jenny and Pinto looked at Lily, expectant. Trey looked doubly confused. Lily sighed, heartfelt, hating herself for what she was about to do and yet in such strange and unknown surroundings she was not sure she had any choice. She only hoped that Kyosti could forgive her.
“He’s a member of the Hope’s crew,” Lily said quietly, and she went on while her audience was still too startled to react. “But there’s been a slight—problem. Hawk had no reason to love the League, but even he assured me that the League dealt fairly with its citizens. I don’t know your laws. I don’t know League space at all. But because of—circumstances—I have no choice but to trust you now.” She paused. If Provoniya and Scallop were still looking puzzled, Thaelisha at least had some measure of comprehension in her face. “A valued member of the Hope’s crew, I should add. But I’m afraid that as we came into the system he—he ran. Took one of our two-man boats and escaped. He hasn’t been well lately—” The sentence sounded terribly weak to her ears.
“Do you mean”—Trey had a look of outraged shock on her face—“that man—the one who—on the bridge”—the memory made her shudder—“That man’s a psychopath!”
“He is not—” Lily began hotly, and then controlled herself.
“But Lily,” said Pinto suddenly, “you said yourself that he’s only half—”
“Pinto.”
Pinto shut up. For once, he did not look sullen, but rather thoughtful.
“I’m not sure I understand what exactly happened,” said Thaelisha, watching this interplay with an eye that Lily feared was too acute.
Lily said nothing for a moment, because she could not decide what to say. Trey looked angry. Jenny and Pinto waited patiently. The door opened and Hoshea returned. “I’ll take her,” Provoniya offered, and she settled the infant on her lap. The baby stared with wide, intent eyes at all the faces in the room.
“It’s very important,” Lily began slowly, “that he not be arrested or put in a cell or put in prison or—it’s very important that I—that we—get him back. That’s what I need your help for.”
“Are you saying he’s physically ill?” asked Scallop.
Lily hesitated.
“No,” said Thaelisha softly. “I feel somehow that what Captain Ransome is not saying is that she fears he is mentally ill. If that is the case, I am curious as to why you’re protecting him, or feel that he needs protection. We don’t throw our insane into institutions anymore, you know. All citizens have equal access to humane psychiatric care.”
“Maybe I’m afraid he won’t get equal treatment because of his background. As one of the saboteurs.”
“I hope we’re not such savages!” exclaimed Provoniya, looking righteously shocked.
“I sense there is something else,” murmured Thaelisha. “Why you want him back so badly.”
Lily looked at Jenny, feeling suddenly helpless. It was hard to admit even to herself the sick worry she felt in her gut at the thought of Kyosti running loose in who knew what frame of mind.
Surprisingly, it was Pinto who spoke up. “You might as well tell them the truth, Lily. It was the only understandable reason anyone would keep him around after what he tried to do to Finch. I know he’s a fine doctor, but”—His smile had a touch of unkind glee in it—“Poor Finch. I could never decide if he was more afraid of Hawk, or jealous of him.”
“Jealous of him?”
Pinto’s smile remained unsympathetic. “Since he wouldn’t stoop to sleeping with any filthy tattoos, that didn’t leave many available women, did it? And he did know you from before, as he forever kept reminding us.”
“Poor Finch,” echoed Jenny, but with rather more charity, as if she understood quite well what Finch had been suffering.
“All right,” conceded Lily, aware that her other au
dience had grown quite bemused. She met Thaelisha’s gaze. “He’s my lover.”
“Your lover!” Trey jumped up to her feet. “You could—with someone who could do what he did to Vanov and the others? That’s sick.”
“Trey. Sit down.” The sudden, chill snap of Lily’s voice sat Trey down. “You have no idea. None. I’m not excusing what he did, but until you know all the facts I suggest you not question my judgment.”
Trey’s expression went blankly neutral. Pinto coughed nervously into his hand.
“What did he do?” asked Provoniya, eyes bright. From her lap, the infant’s gaze fixed unnervingly on Lily.
“In League space he hasn’t done anything,” replied Lily a little testily, “except run from the Forlorn Hope.”
“If you’d like, Captain,” said Thaelisha, smoothing over the chill in the air, “you can help me prepare a report for my superior at Turfan Link. Under the circumstances, a report will have to go out in any case, but certainly we can include your comments.” She tapped her fingers thoughtfully on Scallop’s desk. “There’s also the matter of the Forlorn Hope itself. I have no idea if salvage rights apply to a vessel invested under the League Exploratory Guild, although like the other ships it was declared lost. But I can give you no guarantees, except that citizenship in the League is open and your livelihood would certainly not be taken away from you without proper and legal recompense.”
“Frankly,” said Lily, grateful to Thaelisha for allowing her to regain her composure during this speech, “I have no idea how your economy works, and we have nothing to use for credit anyhow.”
Thaelisha smiled. “Given the unexpected avenue of your arrival, and the momentous news you bring, I think it would be possible to arrange a, shall we say, open letter of credit, to be presented to any Concord official wherever you stop. Now that you’re here, what do you intend to do, Captain? You and your people?”
“Find Hawk,” said Lily immediately. Stopped, looking at Jenny and Pinto and Trey. Trey’s mouth was tight. Pinto looked astonishingly relaxed. Jenny looked—like Jenny had looked ever since Lia’s departure: bitterly unhappy and determined not to show it, but right now, it was mixed with a real spark of interest as she gazed back at Lily. And Lily wondered if Jenny had ever put aside completely her dreams of bootlegging and smuggling. If the League even had such people—other than, she supposed, what appeared to be the strange, shadowy legality of privateers such as La Belle and Yi.
“I don’t know,” said Lily, as she realized that it was true. “I never really thought beyond just getting here.”
“We’ll put out an all points,” Scallop said, sounding reassuring. “For the physician. We’ll need a description. But there should be no problem alerting all ships to let us know if he tries to get passage. Diomede is a small Center, after all. He won’t be hard to track down.”
“Well,” replied Thaelisha briskly. “Then I expect, once that’s settled, that you may as well take yourselves to Concord in person. The Mother knows they’ll be interested in your story, and eager to reestablish ties with Reft space. I’m sure min Provoniya can provide someone to discuss the various routes available with your navigator.”
Provoniya nodded.
“Can we meet again later?” Lily asked. “I’d like to return to the Hope and discuss this with the rest of the crew.”
“Of course. One can only make such a decision with full input. Perhaps meet here again in”—Thaelisha glanced at Scallop—“Will four hours be enough?”
It was agreed on. Thaelisha and Lily rose at the same time, they all shook hands, and departed.
“Oh, Jenny,” Lily said softly as they walked along the brilliant hub of Diomede Center toward their berth. “Did I do the right thing? Or did I just condemn him, by asking for their help? I feel like I’ve thrown him—” She shook her head.
“What is that old phrase?” Jenny asked. “Thrown to the hounds?” Lily shuddered. Not noticing it, Jenny went on. “Or—wolves? Some kind of animal. I read it on some story tapes once. But what else could you do, Lily? In Reft space, we could hunt him ourselves, but here—”
Her gaze swept their surroundings comprehensively. Pinto walked in front of them. Before him, Scallop, who in an excess of hospitality had delegated himself to show them back to their ship, walked beside the still unforgiving Trey, his daughter back in the sling. The baby had fallen asleep. That was all that was familiar. Everything else …
Humans, of course; they looked the same, except for the exotic way they dressed, a veritable cascade of brilliant colors and bizarre styles. And their age, or better their lack of it; they saw a fair number of children, one single woman who showed signs of aging, but the rest seemed suspended in that eerie limbo of mature adulthood when chronological age can scarcely be guessed.
And twice, they saw totally unknown alien beings so unremarked by the rest of the population that they clearly were not remarkable.
As for the surroundings themselves, they were not so much unrecognizable as just familiar enough to be doubly strange. The berth connections were octagonal and dilating, rather than square. They strolled along a shopping district. Its mottled white walls bore fantastic scenes carved in relief in long, two-meter-high strips, stories told to the eye as one walked: a woman passed through a series of gates, encountering peculiar beasts and sinuously complicated gatherings of people on her way to some unseen goal. Storefronts broke the tale at intervals. Clusters of tables marking busy cafés obstructed it. It was altogether unlike the cobbled-together utilitarian lines of Reft stations, where function superseded any at-tempts at decoration.
“Oh, wait,” said Pinto. Scallop and Trey halted to look at him. He gave Lily a pleading look. “Look at that fabric.” He motioned toward a shop. Material lay spread out on tables under a bright striped awning. “Paisley would love it. Can’t we just look for a second?”
“For a second, Pinto,” Lily agreed, aware that she was humoring him because he so rarely showed any sentimental emotions.
Trey, evidently not immune to such riches, followed him. Scallop, with a smile, followed her.
“There,” said Jenny. “Another one. Or maybe it’s the same one I saw before.”
“Another what?” Lily asked, turning to look. Foot traffic eddied around them. Several small driverless carts loaded with packages sped by, deftly avoiding pedestrians.
“That alien. I’ve seen pictures in the story tapes of something like it. Shaped like us, but hairy. What were they called? Except I think they weren’t supposed to be as intelligent as humans. And this one doesn’t look quite right either. Apes, that’s it.”
“I don’t see—Oh.” It was half-hidden by a stand of some peculiar green globes that she thought might be fruit. For an instant the creature stared disconcertingly straight back at her with eyes that were just slightly too large to be in proportion to its head. Then it was gone.
“And did you notice the Stationmaster—what is it they call him?—Coordinator? Scallop. One of his arms isn’t tattooed.” Jenny was more animated than Lily had seen her in months. “What do you suppose he meant when he asked Pinto if he was orthodox?”
As Lily turned back to answer, someone collided with her. Hard. Instinctively she let her knees absorb the impact, bending slightly, and she spun to face—him.
“Lily!” he exclaimed. “What a surprise to meet you here!”
She had never seen him before. Not much taller than she, he had a rough, unshaven face and a broad chest. He moved to hug her. The gesture was so unexpected that his arms were around her before she reacted.
She dropped, broke his grip, and shoved him away. Jenny went for her gun.
Did not have one, of course. But as her hand brushed her belt in its instinctive draw, another hand grasped hers. Hair tickled her wrist. A strong, musty scent assailed her, and she sneezed.
“Excuse me. This will just take a moment,” said a very, very low, peculiarly gruff voice in her ear.
Lily had dropped to a fightin
g crouch.
The man facing her sighed. “Make this easy for us both, will you?” he asked, sounding weary. He reached and unclipped a thin slate from his front pocket, held it out to her.
Peripherally, Lily could see that Trey had turned and that her hand too had gone to her belt. Scallop, watching intently, put a staying hand on Trey’s arm. Pinto had disappeared into the shop.
“Legal and signed,” said the man, “Take a look.”
“What is it?” demanded Lily.
“Bounty papers,” he explained, putting on a patient tone as if he did this every day to people far more cooperative than her. “I have legal right from Concord to take you in.”
A single glance to Jenny was signal enough. They both acted at the same time, Jenny to sweep and take down her opponent, Lily to break back and circle.
But one step back took her flat into another body. She did not break the flow of her movement but dipped and spun and punched to its midriff.
Met what felt like steel. Caught a gasp, and went for the sweep.
It was over in moments. She found herself facing Jenny, who was also clasped in the viselike grip of two long, hairy arms, hard against a very broad chest. Hot breath, strong like garlic but not unpleasant, hissed in and out beside her ear.
“Sorry,” said the man. He glanced over at Trey, still standing held back by Scallop. Pinto, startled and alarmed, came running out of the store and halted stock-still, staring at the unfamiliar sight of Lily and Jenny completely subdued. The man grinned, just a little. “Don’t take it bad. You just don’t know their weak points. Can’t take ’em out like you would a human. Hey!” This to Scallop. “You Center personnel?”
Scallop nodded and came briskly forward. Trey followed him, using his body as a shield from behind which she might, perhaps, launch her own attack.