"Difficult?"
He chuckled. "Yeah—it was difficult."
"That was stupid of me. What I meant was, when you had no freedom and your life was always being threatened, wasn't it hard to keep a sense of your own identity?"
"Well, yeah. I suppose the hardest thing was being forced to rig ships for them. Not so much when we were just flying transport. But when we were out prowling—" he shook his head, as if that might somehow keep the memories at bay "—when we went out to attack other ships, and we knew they were going to capture or kill innocent people..."
Morgan winced.
Legroeder shrugged, trying to ignore a buzzing in his head. "There was nothing we could do—we either flew where they said, or we would be killed, or brainwiped. And not just us—"
"What do you mean?"
"They always had hostages on the ships—and they wouldn't just kill us if we disobeyed, they would kill them, too. And it wasn't an empty threat."
Morgan was silent.
Legroeder frowned in thought. "Except for that one time. There was... one... occasion... when I actually managed to keep them from capturing a ship."
"Really? How?"
He wanted to laugh, but couldn't. "We were attacking a ship—and we made contact with the other rigger crew. And..." He had to struggle to keep his voice steady; the memory was rising with incredible power. It was about four years ago; the three riggers on the raider ship had cast an oversized net around their intended victim, and were drawing it in like a fishing net. Something in the other net struck him as oddly familiar, and he risked opening a private speech channel, disguising it as a dark crease of cloud billowing over the landscape. "I couldn't believe it. It was an old friend of mine, an old shipmate, flying the other ship! Along with some kind of alien, catlike thing."
Morgan's mouth dropped open.
Again, a half laugh rose in his throat. "His name was Gev Carlyle—one of the most innocent guys you ever met in your life. I mean, painfully innocent. When I flew with him, I had to watch out for him. A good rigger, but young—naive." He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "I'm not sure what came over me—but I just couldn't let them capture him... or kill him. I couldn't." Aboard the raider, a team of commandos was preparing to board the target, and another crew stood ready to blow it to pieces if it tried to escape or fight back.
Morgan's voice was husky. "What did you do?"
"I was scared. Real scared. But I had to hide that." His heart was pounding with the memory. "We were coming in—lights flashing in the Flux, drums crashing, boarding party ready to go. If you've never been under attack in the Flux, you can't imagine how terrifying that is. We were already grappling, net to net, drawing him in. But I was able to sabotage the net imagery... just enough. Made it seem like a fluctuation in the net." In fact, he'd been incredibly lucky. The only people who could really see what was happening were the riggers. He reshaped the image just enough: they already had the two ships enveloped in a flaring thunderstorm, and when an eruption of turbulence loosened their grip and clouded the image, it seemed almost natural...
Legroeder remained silent a moment, reliving the memory. He'd kept the covert channel to Carlyle open just long enough to yell, Gev, go!... and then let the two ships slip apart as though he'd lost his hold in the turbulence.
"And—?"
He swallowed. "I was able to give him time to break free and vanish. I couldn't have gotten away with it if Rusty, one of the riggers in my net, hadn't been willing to look the other way." He laughed, this time for real. "And if the other guy hadn't been so dumb. Rusty was a captive like me, but the second guy... he just didn't catch on."
"Dear God," Morgan whispered. "Weren't you afraid they'd kill you?"
"Sure—afterward. At the time, I just reacted. Pure instinct." It made him shudder now to think of the peril he'd put himself into. "Why'd I do it then, and no other time? I don't know. If I'd thought about it, I don't know if I would have had the nerve then." He closed his eyes, feeling vaguely ill. "You know something? I've never told anyone about this. Not until now."
"It sounds like a very tough business," Harriet said. She was back in her seat with a small printout in her hand.
Legroeder blinked. "When did you come back?"
"Just now. I didn't mean to eavesdrop." Harriet folded the paper and then reopened it, with uncharacteristic nervousness.
"That's all right. What did El'ken say?"
Harriet chuckled without humor. "That since we were halfway there, he wouldn't turn us away. But if we were anything less than serious students of history, we shouldn't expect much. It's not what I'd call a friendly note. But since El'ken is one of the Narseil's most honored scholars, I guess we're fortunate to get to see him at all."
Legroeder hmph'd noncommittally. "Well... McGinnis wasn't eager to see us, either. But we won him over."
"That's true."
"Of course, he's dead now."
"That's also true. Legroeder, dear, this is starting to sound depressing. Can we go back to talking about your life among the pirates, and see if we can cheer ourselves up a bit?"
Legroeder managed a laugh. "To be honest, most of it was crushing boredom and frustration, and chronic anger—interrupted by periods of extreme terror." Harriet looked away, and Legroeder suddenly realized that, despite her remark, Harriet probably didn't much want to talk about life with pirates. Not with her grandson—if he was still alive—almost certainly enduring similar hardship at this very moment.
Legroeder cleared his throat. "I don't really know what it would have been like for a young boy—if Bobby was even at that outpost. I wish I could tell you, but I just don't know."
Harriet nodded, stirring her tea. Glancing at Morgan, Legroeder could see appreciation in her eyes. He sighed again and fell silent.
Morgan brought him back to his story. "What happened after you let your friend go?"
"Well..." Legroeder scratched the back of his head. "I have no idea what happened to Gev Carlyle. He seemed to get clear okay. Funny thing was, he was flying around trying to put an old crew back together—including me. He managed to get that much across in the half second we had to talk. And here I was, in the net of a pirate ship. I can't imagine what he thought."
"But you did risk your life to let him go."
"Yeah. But I never got the chance to tell him why I was there in the first place."
Morgan frowned. "What happened to you afterward?"
Legroeder let out a slow breath. "No one except Rusty seemed to suspect that I'd done anything deliberate. If they had, I doubt I'd be alive now to tell you about it. But it was clear something had gone wrong, and I told the captain that a Flux anomaly had caused us to lose our hold on the other ship. I'm not sure he really believed me—but how could he tell?" Legroeder chuckled darkly. "On the other hand, he definitely thought I'd blown a sure capture. Or he thought we had, and thank God Rusty was willing to take some heat for me, rather than blowing the whistle."
He reflected a moment longer. "But I must have done a pretty good job of making it look real, because they never did come down on us, except to say, 'You stupid lowlifes—couldn't you see it coming?' The third guy, Joey, who was sort of a favorite of the captain's, helpfully volunteered how amazing it was—and said it with such conviction, the captain made a note about it in his log." Legroeder laughed. "Poor Joey! He was a terrific natural rigger—could take just about any image and sail right down it—but he didn't have a clue about much of anything else." He shook his head. "We were just damn lucky."
At that moment, Conex appeared in the doorway. "We'll be making a course adjustment soon, to start our final approach to Asteroid Arco Iris. For safety, please secure yourselves."
Morgan collected the cups and saucers, while Legroeder turned the seats into position. Five minutes later, he watched the stars turn as the ship rotated end over end. As he waited for the vibration that would tell him that the acceleration had gone from two gees to five, he let the emotions
from all that had come before wash over him like a tide coming in over a sandbar. Maybe this time he really was on the way to reversing his fortunes.
* * *
At first the asteroid was a sparkling point of light whose motion was barely visible against the star field. As they drew closer, it began to take form: disk-shaped structures of shiny metal poking out here and there, and along one edge the profile of a silver dome. A large golden helix floating just beyond the asteroid looked like a Narseil Flux antenna.
A private Flux-wave transmitter? The average planet usually only had a couple to serve the whole world. They were not only horrendously expensive; there was a bandwidth limitation before transmissions began to interfere with rigger ships moving in and out of a system. But the Narseil had a reputation for looking out for their own needs when they lived among humans. And with the technology of the Narseil Rigging Institute at their command, they did it remarkably well.
"The Narseil own the asteroid," Harriet remarked. "They hollowed and outfitted it themselves. El'ken is their most famous resident, but there are at least a few hundred Narseil living here."
Conex came on the intercom to inform them that they would be docking in several minutes, and if they had any second thoughts, now was the time to voice them. Harriet and Morgan chuckled, but Legroeder remembered their reasons for coming, and felt anything but amusement. If he'd been at the controls of a rigger ship, he'd have taken them straight down into the Flux and on until sunset... or until he found a place where no one had ever heard of pirates, or of Renwald Legroeder.
* * *
As they passed through the airlock into the asteroid's interior, they plunged into humid air filled with the smell of the sea. An alien sea. The corridors, with their long stretches of bare stone wall, seemed at once tidy and musty. The walls felt damp to the touch. As they walked along, Legroeder tried not to think about mildew. Nevertheless, he was intrigued. He had never entered a Narseil habitation before, and only on a few occasions had even seen a Narseil rigger.
They were greeted by a pair of the amphibious Narseil. They were tall and vaguely reptilian, with dark green, finely scaled skin like an iguana's. Their eyes were humanoid except for the shape: vertical ovals with similar-shaped pupils. Their faces seemed long and hollow, with mouths but no nostrils. Breathing was accomplished through fan-shaped gill openings on the front of the neck. Tailless and bipedal, the Narseil had long, flat dinosaur-like crests or neck-sails running from the backs of their heads to their lower backs. They dressed in wide, crisscrossing bands of fabric and carried long, thin compads. Their speech was a mixture of their own rendition of Anglic and synthesized translation, in about equal measure.
"Please ssstate your business on our world," hissed the Narseil on the right, as the other examined their ID tabs.
Harriet answered calmly, though the sight of the Narseil towering over her must have felt intimidating. "We are here to visit El'ken the historian."
"Jussst the three of you?" asked the second Narseil.
"Yes, plus our pilot and copilot—" Harriet gestured back up the corridor toward their ship "—who will be waiting for us for the return trip."
The second Narseil made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a hiss. "They may stay on their ship. If they need assistance they may make a request."
"We have permission to visit Academic El'ken," Harriet replied. "We wondered if you might direct us to his quarters."
"Kkhhhh—we will get to that." The first Narseil busied himself making entries on his compad, while the other motioned to the visitors to follow. "Come. First you must pass through customs."
Customs consisted of a complete multiscan examination of their persons as well as their possessions. They were assured that the radiation levels were almost undetectable, but Legroeder could not help thinking that the Narseil looked to him as if they had very different tolerances for radiation. Or as if they'd already had way too much of it. Don't be racist, he chided himself. But their cool demeanor was starting to wear on his nerves.
As they were led from customs through the inner asteroid, they saw the occasional human face, and one Swert; but the vast majority of those they encountered were Narseil. They came at last to a short passageway with a door at the end. A nameplate on the wall listed a name in Narseil script, beneath which was engraved in Anglic: El'ken.
"Do not expect to stay long," said their escort. "He is a very busy tophai." The escort deliberately used the Narseil word, which Legroeder recognized as a high Narseil honorific. He opened the door and they walked in.
They were suddenly beneath the stars again. El'ken lived under a dome. His quarters were a large, twilit cavern, about half the size of a human gymnasium. Perhaps two-thirds of the ceiling was dome; the rest was a dark stone overhang. On the near side of the cavern a long, curving desk or counter, a trifle high by human standards, was built into the stone wall. The far side of the cavern was dominated by a pool carved out of stone. A bordering strip between the two sections was covered with gravel, and held two bench seats.
Legroeder peered around in the gloom. He exchanged glances with Morgan, who was also turning around. "Is anybody here?" she asked.
There was a splash, and then a husky voice from somewhere in the darkness of the pool. "What do you want?"
"Academic El'ken?" called Harriet. "I'm Harriet Mahoney. This is my daughter Morgan and our client, Rigger Renwald Legroeder."
There was a ripple in the water, and a head appeared over the top of a stone island in the center of the pool. "I know who you are," said the Narseil, his eyes gleaming in the twilight. "I asked what you want."
"Truth," Harriet answered. "What we want is truth, if you have it and are willing to share it with us."
The Narseil made a sound remarkably like a dog's bark. It was hard to tell if it was a laugh or a snort. "Humans from Faber Eridani come to a Narseil in search of truth? Just what manner of truth were you hoping to find?"
Legroeder sighed. "Truth about a rigger ship from a century ago, and truth about why the Narseil were blamed falsely for her disappearance. We'd hoped to put an end to a longstanding lie. But if you don't have it, or don't want to share it—"
"Legroeder," Harriet interrupted, giving him an annoyed look.
Don't blame me, Legroeder mouthed.
"I see," said El'ken. "If it's Impris you want to know about, and if you were sent here by Robert McGinnis, as your message said, then perhaps indeed we can talk." The Narseil's head vanished with a splash. A few seconds later, he reappeared at the near edge of the pool. "No need to hang back. You may approach."
The three walked across the gravel border as El'ken rose to his waist in the water. "I have not been able to reach Robert McGinnis, these last two days. Do you know if something is wrong?"
"Very wrong, I am sorry to say," Harriet answered. "He died in a fire at his estate, three Fabri days ago. We believe the fire was deliberately set. But we don't know by whom."
El'ken stared at her with dark eyes. "That is most distressing news." A flutter went down the crest, or sail, on his neck. His eyes sharpened as he studied Harriet. "You knew him well, then?"
"We had only just met."
"But even so, he sent you here to see me?" El'ken angled a glance at Legroeder, and seemed to focus on the rigger for a long moment.
It was Harriet who answered. "He said, if we wanted to know the truth about what had happened between the Narseil and Centrist Worlds, we should go see El'ken the historian."
El'ken continued to study Legroeder appraisingly. "And why do you wish to know these things?" He sank slowly up to his neck again in the water, as if he might dismiss them.
Legroeder lost his patience. "Because no one believes in Impris!" he exploded. "And I'm being framed for piracy because of it! Your people were blamed for the loss of Impris—but I've seen her! I know she's alive!"
El'ken suddenly rose again, dripping. "Yes? And what about the history books?"
"Damn the history books! E
ven the Fandrang report doesn't say a thing about the Narseil and Impris."
"You've read the Fandrang report, then?"
"Read it? We have it!"
"You have the Fandrang—"
"McGinnis gave it to us for safekeeping. He also told us to come to you if we wanted to learn more."
Harriet added, "Mr. McGinnis seemed to be expecting trouble. He sent us away with some urgency."
"I might add," interjected Morgan, "that someone on Faber Eridani seems extremely upset about all this. They tried to kill my mother and Legroeder."
El'ken's eyes gleamed in obvious fascination as he shifted his gaze from one speaker to the next.
"We would be happy to make a copy of the report available to you," said Harriet.
"Unnecessary. But thank you."
"You already have it?"
"Let's just say that I have seen it." The Narseil stepped suddenly out of the water and onto the gravel floor. As he stood dripping, a soft whoosh came from the floor, and he remained still as a warm draft of air dried him. "I think," he said, pulling a silken, split-backed robe over his shoulders, "that it is time you told me all that you know. And then, perhaps, we can talk about what you would like to know."
Legroeder felt a chill as he gazed back at the Narseil. There was a glint in El'ken's eyes that suggested that what he had to say would not be reassuring, not at all.
Chapter 10
El'ken the Historian
El'ken sent away the Narseil guides and pointed to the bench seats. Harriet began the story, but after laying the groundwork, turned the narrative over to Legroeder. El'ken was not a patient listener; he kept interrupting and asking for more information—first, about their trip to McGinnis's, why they had gone there, why their visit had been so abruptly terminated. Then about Impris. And about the pirates, and Legroeder's escape.
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