She had spent every waking hour at the mind amp, even taking her meals at the console. Sleep had come in snatches, her dreams often ending in a burst of fear that she had missed a take-off, and thus lost her only opportunity to follow the tribal fleet to Citadel. In truth, she had not really rested for five days now, and the strain was wearing her down.
She fitted on the headset, powered up, closed her eyes, and began yet another search around the desert planet. The practice had become almost second nature now, sweeping out and around with growing confidence.
The space around Yalla was utterly silent, for the planet possessed neither true spaceport nor watch communicator. The desert chieftains preferred to keep themselves and their secrets under close control, and there was too great a risk that any communicator trained by the Hegemony would be an Imperial spy.
The first signal was so unexpected that she almost missed it.
Then it came again, startling her so that when she tried to bolt upright, she tumbled from her chair, ripping the headset from her temples. She gave a panic-stricken cry and righted herself. She struggled to refit the headset, her fingers made clumsy with haste.
Tucker clanged open the portal and demanded, “Is everything—”
Frantically she waved him to silence, hunched so far over that her forehead touched her knees. Her eyes were so tightly shut she saw stars. Consuela hunted, hunted, then quietly, the words almost a moan, “I’ve found strange ships.”
Tucker moved with stealth, shut the portal, slid the bolts home. “You’re sure?”
“Four of them,” she whispered, wishing he would listen, say nothing, simply let her focus and use his silent strength as an anchor. “The size of our transport, no bigger.”
“Then their destination can’t be too far off.”
“They’re making course out of the system.” For an instant she opened her eyes, fearful of what was to come, searching for the here and now. “But there’s no lightway.”
“Follow them, lass,” Tucker hissed, crouching down beside her, reaching out a tentative hand, withdrawing it before making contact. “It’s our only chance.”
“I don’t . . .” Consuela felt a tremor of fear course through her. Already the ships were reaching out beyond the system’s limits, with nothing but black and empty space surrounding them.
“Follow,” he urged.
She sighed her way back down, one hand to her forehead, the other reaching out to be swallowed by Tucker’s massive grip. She stayed with the ships.
Fighting off the terror of uncharted space, Consuela refused to worry that the return would be impossible, that she might stop and turn about and find herself lost, alone, to hurl forever in panic-stricken search for refuge. She offered a swift prayer for guidance, and gave herself over fully to the challenge.
The Yalla transporters continued to gain speed, streaming an energy trail far behind, burning fuel at an alarming pace. She watched them continue to accelerate at their punishing rate, then, “They’ve vanished.”
“N-space,” Tucker breathed. “And so fast. Either they’ve a pilot aboard—”
“No,” she said, definite on that point, while still remaining outward focused and searching, though the terror of having no fixed point upon which to fasten threatened to swallow her whole.
“—Then they’ve got a system close at hand, and they know the jump backward and forward, so much they can make do with a line sight and old records.” Tucker hesitated, then asked, “Do you see a system dead ahead of where they were last?”
“Yes. One of the closest to us.”
“Go there.”
“It’s not that easy. I can’t—”
“Do it, lass.” His grip tightened. “For your Wander.”
At the sudden sound of his name, she flung herself out, her hand on the console sweeping the power control up to the limit, not pausing an instant for thought, just going.
And colliding straight into the strongest focus of mind-amp power she had ever known.
Not directed toward her. Not yet. The force inundated space about the planet like a multitude of brilliant lighthouse beams, all directed far outward, searching, searching.
Again there was no time for thought. She did not need to inspect. She knew. Wander was there. She drew back a fraction and bundled together all the anxieties, all the yearnings, all the frustrations and fatigues and longings from those endless fearful days. She wrapped them with the cords of her growing love, shimmering bonds of heartsong, and flung them toward the planet. And in the same instant, though she longed to stay and see if they were received, she retreated. A leap across the limitless chasm of emptiness, wishing she could stay, wishing she could shout his name to the heavens, knowing to do so would draw down doom upon their heads, praying with all her heart that he would hear, and understand.
She raised up with an effort, opened her eyes, and found a round-eyed Tucker watching her with burning intensity. She nodded once and managed, “It’s there.”
Chapter Sixteen
The platform carrying Wander and the other watch monitors descended into utter bedlam.
The monitors riding the platform down with him were completely silent. They hung over the side rails, their faces blanching with each wail rising from below. As the platform approached the cavern’s floor, figures began springing from their positions and racing over.
The senior monitor riding the platform waved those below back to their stations and screamed, “You’re all going on report!” There were three senior monitors, one for each watch. Like all personnel, their own watches and subordinates had become hopelessly scrambled. The senior monitor leaned over the railing and shouted down, “Back to your stations!”
Someone down below shrilled, “We’re being attacked!”
As the platform sank to the cavern’s floor, several distraught faces came in line with Wander’s. Their eyes showed white all around. “Something is coming!”
Another voice within the milling throng yelled, “It’s not coming, it’s here!”
As soon as the railing dropped, two monitors shoved their way onto the platform. More panic-stricken figures came streaming from the mind-amps. One cried, “Get me out of here!”
“Back, I say!” Bony arms protruded from the senior monitor’s robes as he tried to stop the charge by will alone.
The senior monitor travelling upon the platform was thoroughly disliked. He was far older than the other senior monitors, and not up to the crisis at hand. He covered this by sudden outbursts and constant criticism. “Remember your duties!”
“I am hereby on sick leave,” a monitor declared, shoving his way onto the platform. “I’ve done more than enough overtime to sleep my way through the rest of this.”
One of those just arriving demanded, “What was it?”
“I don’t know and I don’t want to know.”
“Did anyone else hear anything?”
“I didn’t need to,” came the reply. “I’ve had all I can take of this balderdash.”
“I heard someone cry out,” another offered.
Two more crowded their way on. One of them agreed, “It came from the mind-amp next to ours. Stood my hair on end, I can tell you that.” From the safety of the platform, he glanced about and said, “Where are they?”
His compatriot replied, “Sprawled in the dust at the foot of their station.”
The senior monitor whirled about, grasping at the robes of several scouts who were pressing themselves upon the platform. Then he realized that none of those who had descended with him were climbing off the platform and heading for their stations. He stared from one stubborn face to another, then raised his voice a full octave as he shrilled, “I’ll have each and every one of you before the diplomat!”
“Good,” one of the newcomers replied. “It’s about time we got some answers.”
“And stopped this nonsense of double watches and no clear orders,” added another voice.
“We’ve overloaded the platfor
m,” someone else observed. “And there’s still more coming this way.”
A voice from the back cried, “Platform, mount!”
At the last moment before the rails slid up and the dais began its ascent, Wander grabbed hold of Digs’ robe and pulled him off. Their move went unnoticed, as the platform’s rise drew a chorus of shouts from those still streaming toward it. One monitor leaned over the rails and promised, “We’ll send it right back for you!”
“Come down here!” The senior monitor was almost dancing with helpless rage. “You have watches to serve!”
“Serve it yourself,” drifted back the reply.
In the tumult and confusion, Wander gripped Digs’ shoulder and hissed, “Tell him we’ll scout our own system.”
Digs turned disbelieving eyes toward him. “Are you completely deranged?”
“Do it.”
Reluctantly Digs slipped over to where the senior monitor was watching helplessly as the platform melded with the distant ceiling. “Ah, someone should be watching our own skies.”
The senior monitor wheeled about, for a moment unable to focus on him. “Eh? What’s that you said?”
“In case there really is something coming in,” Digs said. “Just to be on the safe side.”
The senior monitor peered at him, his ancient chest heaving. “What’s your name, Monitor?”
“Digs, Senior Monitor. And we’re just probationary watch standers.”
“Not for long.” He turned back to those waiting for the platform to return and shouted, “Here’s what a true monitor is made of!”
“Give him time,” said a grim voice. “He’ll learn.”
The senior monitor’s shoulders sagged. Defeat transformed him into a tired old man. “Go,” he said to Digs. “Serve your watch.”
Digs waited until they had rounded the first mind-amp before declaring, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“It’s a chance,” Wander replied. “Only a chance.”
“Right.” The pinched-faced young man snorted as he raced to keep up with Wander. “A chance to get ourselves fried by some new mind-gun.”
“My friends are ten days overdue,” Wander said. “More.”
Digs remained silent until they had arrived at the station, seated themselves, and began the power-up procedure. Then he glanced worriedly at Wander and asked, “Do you think maybe it’s time to give up on all that?”
“I can’t,” Wander replied stonily.
“But this risk we’re taking, what if we’re—”
“If I stop hoping I stop living,” Wander said. “Stay back here if you want. I’ll go look.”
“No, no.” Digs sighed as he reached over and triggered the amp. “Guess I’ve got to hope with you.”
There was the now-familiar surge outward, but instead of flinging himself headlong across space, Wander hovered, swung out and around the fiery planet, then stopped.
She was there.
Faint tendrils spun across his awareness, like wafts of some familiar perfume almost lost upon a rising wind. But it was Consuela. He knew it instantly. Her concerns, her fears, her struggle against a loss of hope, just like him. And her love.
Digs was there alongside. I sense something.
It’s all right.
At least I think I did. It’s gone now. It felt like, I don’t know. A message? The awareness shifted and focused upon him. Was it that girl?
Consuela. Yes. There was no doubt. She is nearby.
I wonder . . . Digs floated free, his thoughts a jumble, then finished, I wonder what it would be like to have someone care enough to search for me.
Wonderful, Wander replied simply. Will you cover for me?
An instant’s scanning, then, We’re alone out here right now. Make it fast.
Immediately he sped outward, traversing the accustomed route to Avanti, and said, Urgent, Urgent, Avanti Port, Tower Control, come in.
A moment’s delay, then, Avanti Port, Watch Communicator here.
There was something different, a crispness to the response, which made Wander hesitate before responding, This is a friend—
I know who this is. Go ahead, Allegro.
Again he was forced to pause. Allegro was the Avanti sister planet. Clearly the words were meant for someone else. A listener. Request update on Spaceship Avenger.
Avenger still detained at Imperial Command. No reason given. Arnol supposedly under suspicion of some crime, but nothing has been substantiated. The chancellor himself has lodged a complaint, as you have probably heard. As soon as the ship is freed, arrives in Yalla, and payment is passed on, your planet will receive its share for the investment made in its construction. How received?
Clear. But not possible. Consuela could not be there. She could not. Imperial Command was on the exact opposite side of the Hegemony. There was no way she could extend herself that far, much less compose and leave a heartfelt message.
Our chancellor has also notified Imperial Command that the invading dragoons will not be released until Avenger and all her crew arrive safely at their destination. How received?
Clear. That much was good. So long as the dragoons were in captivity, Citadel’s defenses remained in a weakened state.
You had something urgent?
Wander reflected a moment, then replied, Only that I am uncertain if my visitors are still expected to arrive.
It was the watch communicator’s turn to hesitate. Repeat, please.
Wander did so, then felt an urgent mental prodding from Digs. Signing off.
He powered back, slid the headset from his temples, and turned toward his friend. Digs looked frantic. “Someone’s coming.”
Chapter Seventeen
Mahmut looked in astonishment from one to the other. “You want what?”
“It was just a question,” Guns replied. “We were just wondering if your caravan might hold a copy of astrogation computations.”
“We thought you might have had cause to travel off the standard course from time to time,” Tucker added.
“But to travel anywhere away from Hegemony lightways without a pilot on board is strictly forbidden,” Mahmut pointed out.
“Right,” Guns agreed, despondent. “Sorry we asked.”
They were seated in the caravan’s transport, which held a private owner’s cabin, a smaller version of the caravan’s own luxurious setting. Rick drew his silk cushion to the gathering’s edge so that he could sit with his back against a heavy wall-tapestry. Even from this distance, however, he could feel Abdul’s gaze upon him. The merchant’s son sat beside his father, his dark gaze glowering across the circle, boring angrily into Rick.
“Still, it is a strange request,” Mahmut contemplated aloud. “For our companions to ask if we might keep astrogation texts within our records.”
“Companions,” Abdul said bitterly. “They are nothing more than hired help.”
Mahmut turned his gaze toward his son. The side of Abdul’s head was still swathed in bandages from where he had fallen and hit the control console when the ship had been struck by the stun bolt. “Such words, such an attitude,” Mahmut chided gently, “for those who saved both your life and mine.”
“No one is out to usurp your position,” Tucker offered gently to Abdul, “as master of the caravan’s guards.”
Abdul flushed darkly as the words struck home. “A fat chance you would have if you tried,” he snarled.
Guns sighed his way to his feet. “Forgive the intrusion,” he said to Mahmut, keeping his gaze off Abdul. “We won’t bother you any further.”
“One moment, please,” Mahmut said, motioning for Guns to resume his place. He spent a long moment stroking his beard, then mused, “Even if we were to possess such information, we could not give you access to our ship’s computers. The chieftains have sealed Yalla tight.”
“For how long?” Guns demanded.
Mahmut showed him open palms. “They did not say. They never do. Nor did they give a reason. It seldom lasts for
more than a few days. But during that time, we are forbidden to leave the planet’s surface. And any contact with the mother ship must be made through their communication system.”
Abdul stared at his father, aghast. “You cannot be considering their demand!”
“Their request,” Mahmut corrected. “A request from friends.”
“They are not friends,” Abdul spat. “They are mercenaries. They hire out to whoever has the gold to pay them.”
“And yet they are honorable men,” Mahmut said, “who not only saved us, but did not take advantage when we were offering surrender, and all we had was theirs for the taking.”
“But, Father—”
“Hold,” Mahmut said, showing sternness for the first time. “Go and ask our hosts if we might use one of their larger computers to tap into our shipboard records. Tell them it is a highly confidential matter and must be done on sealed circuits.”
Abdul sat as one frozen to stone. “You cannot be serious.”
Aquiline features tightened in a flash of sudden anger. “Dare you to defy your father and master of the caravan?”
Abdul blanched. “No, Father.”
“That is very good,” Mahmut said, his voice taut with quiet intensity. “I am extremely glad to hear it. Now go and carry out your orders.”
“I hear and obey,” the son said numbly, and forced himself to his feet. He cast a final venomous glance toward Rick before slipping through the portal.
There was a moment’s awkward silence before Mahmut sighed, “An only son, growing into a young man, granted his first true command on this very voyage.”
“As guard captain,” Tucker said sympathetically. “Only to see it taken away from him and the honor of battle go to someone else.”
“It does not matter that rumors abounded, nor that one of our allies disappeared on this very route,” Mahmut agreed, glancing at the door with dark sorrow. “He saw my decision to take on extra guards as an indication that I trusted your fighting abilities more than his own.”
“And the fact that we were the ones who rescued the caravan,” Guns added gravely, “only rubbed salt into the wound.”
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