Legroeder frowned, realizing what his opening question should have been. "Were you—how shall I say?—not a volunteer in the raider fleet?"
The pirate made a metallic cawing sound, which Legroeder took to be laughter. "Volunteer? Are you mad? I am a captive! Can you understand that?" Tick tick tick. "It has been so long that I sometimes have trouble remembering. But having been forced to serve, I—" there was a slight catch in his voice "—well, I have tried, I suppose, to serve well."
Legroeder replied softly. "You might be surprised what I can understand." He didn't care at all for this man's looks, or for the memories that Deutsch's presence stirred up; but he found himself unable to hate him, either. A fellow captive, impressed into pirate service—apparently far more assimilated into the raider culture than Legroeder had become. But what would he be like, if he hadn't had the opportunity to escape, or if his captors had forced him to take implants?
"I was planning to ask for asylum when you took us back to your worlds," Deutsch said.
Fre'geel's eyes contracted to narrow, vertical slits. "That will not be an option," he said. "Unless, of course, you help us in the completion of our mission, and come away with us."
Rigger Deutsch gazed at the Narseil commander for a long moment. "Why do you want to do this? You will be killed—or if not killed, taken prisoner and forced into service." He lowered his voice. "There are not many live Narseil captives in the Republic. I... understand they don't incorporate well into the system." Deutsch looked at Legroeder as if to say, you're human, you at least should have some sense.
Legroeder sat silent, his stomach churning.
Fre'geel answered, "It is not our intention to be taken prisoner... exactly." He seemed to consider his next words carefully. "Tell me something. Are you aware of a movement within the Kyber organization—a movement that wishes to make contact with the outside worlds?"
Deutsch took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Something seemed to flicker across his face, some expression, but the mirror-lensed eyes made it impossible to tell what it was. "No," he said.
Fre'geel glanced at Legroeder, who stirred uneasily. Legroeder had no idea whether Deutsch was telling the truth, if that was Fre'geel's unspoken question.
Fre'geel said to Deutsch, "If you hear any information of such a movement, you will inform us at once."
Deutsch cocked his head.
"Please," Legroeder added.
Fre'geel's gaze seemed to sharpen at that, but he said nothing.
Deutsch nodded slightly, moving his gaze around the room. Clearly, while he did not feel free to challenge the commander of the ship that had just nearly destroyed his own, he found all of this incomprehensible.
"Now, then," said Fre'geel, "I know you two riggers have a great deal to discuss—rigger paths to the outpost, and so on. I will leave you to your work." He gathered the other officers, leaving Deutsch and Legroeder alone in the wardroom with a single Narseil guard.
The two riggers sat staring awkwardly at each other. Vanquished and conqueror. Would-be refugee and would-be infiltrator. Legroeder cleared his throat. "I note that you seem fairly well equipped with augments."
Was that a slight flicker in the lenses covering Deutsch's eyes? "How did you guess?" the raider said finally, his voice modulated and dry.
Legroeder chuckled silently without answering. He blinked as Deutsch's right arm suddenly telescoped out a meter and a half to the end of the table and plucked a cracker out of a bowl there. The metal arm retracted silently back into its fabric sleeve, and looked more-or-less natural as Deutsch took a bite of the cracker.
"Yes, I have many augments, supplied by the technical units of the Free Kyber Republic," Deutsch said finally, and this time, Legroeder clearly detected the sound of sarcasm in his voice.
Legroeder nodded in acknowledgment. "Tell me—do you ever let those lenses go clear so we can see your eyes?"
"These are my eyes."
"Oh." Legroeder frowned, more uncomfortable than ever. "I guess I might as well tell you—I was also a guest once of the—what did you call it?—Free Kyber Republic? They didn't use such a fancy name at DeNoble, where I was a prisoner."
Deutsch tipped his head slightly, and the shifting glint of the ceiling light on his lenses made it seem as if he were somehow tracking movements all around him as he listened to Legroeder. "You rigged... for the Kyber?" Deutsch asked, his voice a whisper. If his eyes didn't convey emotion, his voice did. "DeNoble. I have heard of the outpost..."
Legroeder felt a sudden heaviness in his chest, remembering. "The reason I ask about the augments... is that I need to know if they are critical to our getting back to your base."
"I would find it difficult without," the pirate said.
"Then I may require some coaching from you."
Deutsch leaned slightly, as though to examine the side of Legroeder's head. "Unless I am mistaken, you appear to have augments of your own."
"That is true. But they're new. I haven't used them long."
Deutsch's mouth curled with an unreadable expression. "You rigged well enough in combat with us. You and your people... fought very well. While we fought— recklessly?"
Legroeder cocked his head.
"You fooled us completely. We were not expecting you to fight back. You disguised the nature of your ship well." Deutsch's voice held no hint of reproach. "I must say I did not expect Captain Te'Gunderlach—" Deutsch hesitated, as if wrestling with some thought or other "—to launch a flux torpedo at point-blank range." His voice was grim and matter-of-fact.
Legroeder did not argue. It was foolish, what the raider captain had done.
"I always knew it would end this way," Deutsch said.
"What? That you would be defeated? Or that someone would come after you?"
Deutsch shook his head slowly. "That Captain Te'Gunderlach would destroy us with his pride. He seemed more machine than man—much more machine than I am—and yet a machine with pride, a machine that could not accept the possibility of defeat. Or retreat. If he had retreated from your trap, and taken time to recover, we would still be out there on patrol. You would still be looking for your mark, and we would not be... begging for mercy."
Deutsch laughed again, with a caw. "But then... here we are. You've captured us, and you want to turn yourselves in—to the gracious governance of the Kyber command."
"Well, not quite. We hope to be somewhat cleverer than that."
"I'm sure you do." Deutsch's mouth closed in a frown, and he shook his head a little. It struck Legroeder as odd the way Deutsch's mouth displayed expression even as his words came from the speakers. "I don't know what you hope to do there, but you'll have to be mighty clever indeed. And in case you fear that I might act to expose you once we're there—"
"The thought had crossed my mind."
"You're probably right, I would." Deutsch stared at him again, and his face had become utterly expressionless again. "But mainly out of the small hope of lessening the penalty my crew and I will pay for our failure."
Legroeder nodded. The Kyber security systems were formidable, as he well knew; he also knew that they were not invincible. "You know," he said, "there may be a way to do this that will help both of us." It would take smart work and luck. But he had beaten the Kyber before.
The captured pirate only stared at him with those indecipherable eyes.
* * *
The rigger systems had been transformed into a crazy-quilt network of Narseil and Kyber equipment. Narseil repair crews had labored long, replacing burned out components and bringing the flux-reactor and net-generating equipment back up to power. "It's amazing," Legroeder said to Palagren, with real admiration. He waved Deutsch closer. "You don't have to keep a respectful distance, way over there. We're going to need your help." When Deutsch didn't reply, he tried joking, "You'll be teamed up with the best. It could be the high point of your rigging career."
Deutsch said stiffly, "This is where my crewmates died. I do not think that flying
on this bridge again will be a source of pleasure to me."
Legroeder opened his mouth, shamed by the rebuke. He had quite blotted from his mind the fact that Deutsch might have had friends here on the bridge, regardless of how he felt about the Kyber regime.
Fre'geel spoke up. "Pleasure or not, you will still rig." He said it in a husky tone that might have come across as a threat to Deutsch; but Legroeder knew it to be a tone of understanding, and even compassion. Fre'geel had lost friends, too.
Deutsch levitated to his assigned station, and Palagren and Legroeder went to theirs. As there were two each of Kyber and Narseil-designed stations, Legroeder had a choice. He chose the Kyber. No time like the present to check out their design specs.
He energized the net and stretched out into the starry sky. Palagren was already there, and Deutsch joined them a few seconds later. There was a moment of awkwardness as Palagren assigned Deutsch, the former lead rigger, to the stern position. Deutsch took up the place without comment, but there was a dull reluctance to his presence in the net. Legroeder knew that it would be up to him to talk to the pirate rigger if there was a problem, but for now he decided to let Deutsch decide on his own how to cooperate.
They began a series of tests of the net, stretching out in various directions, and dipping the fringes of it into the beginnings of the Flux. Deutsch did what was asked of him, but no more. And that, Legroeder decided, was probably okay for the time being. They were not yet ready to fly—there were many repairs still to be completed. But the time was drawing near.
Riggers, if you are satisfied with your test, please come out, said Fre'geel, on the com.
I find no problems, said Palagren. Legroeder?
Seems okay.
Rigger Deutsch?
Legroeder turned to Deutsch, resting in silence at the stern. You must give your judgment. You are the one who has flown this ship.
Even in the net, Deutsch's glass-lensed eyes gleamed enigmatically. Yes, he said at last.
Then let us meet on the bridge, said Palagren.
* * *
The debriefing was conducted over a light meal in the galley; afterward, Fre'geel dismissed them for the night. Legroeder, mindful of his assignment, approached Deutsch. "Is there someplace we can go to talk in private?"
Deutsch stared into space. "Talk about what?"
Legroeder shrugged. "We're going to have to work together. I have to know if I can trust you. And you have to know if you can trust me. So I thought—at least, we ought to know something about each other. Know what we're capable of. What to expect."
Deutsch's expression was utterly unreadable. Disdain? Dismay? Embarrassment? He answered in a soft voice, "In order that we may take you to your imprisonment that much sooner?"
"If you want to put it that way."
Reluctantly, it seemed, Deutsch turned his hand up. "We can use my cabin, if you wish. Your commander magnanimously allowed me to keep it."
"All right. Let's go, then." Legroeder spoke to the Narseil marine assigned as guard, and asked him if he would keep his vigil outside Deutsch's cabin.
Behind the sliding, metal-composite door, Deutsch's quarters were small but well appointed. The walls had many curtains and hangings, as if in counterpoint to the mechanically hard shininess of Deutsch's own person. An odd sort of reclining seat occupied one side of the room where a bunk might have been; on the other was a desk and a flat-seated stool, plus a straight-backed chair pushed back against the wall. On the desktop, a clear case held half a dozen luminous, faceted shapes, each glowing a different color in the light of the desk lamp. Legroeder felt a rush of wistfulness. "Meditation crystals?" he asked. Just the sight made him long again for his pearlgazers.
Deutsch's eyes gleamed. "You know them?"
It had been so long. "I had pearlgazers once. I lost them when my ship was—when I was taken prisoner." In his early years of rigging, the pearlgazers had been a valuable training tool, a focus for image-creating. Later, they'd been a comfort in times of loneliness. His sessions with the pearlgazers had been rather like a prayer time.
Deutsch floated over to the desk, opened the case, and lifted a ruby-red crystal into the light. "Mine were taken also. I bought these a couple of years after. They were my first purchase when they put me on a cash rating." He peered over at Legroeder. "Without them, I think I would have gone mad long ago."
Legroeder didn't answer. When he lost the pearlgazers, he'd lost the meditative habit—not that he'd had much opportunity for quiet reflection as a prisoner, anyway. But now, as he stared at Deutsch's crystals, it all came back in a rush.
Deutsch seemed to be reading this thoughts. "Would you like to try them?"
Legroeder started, then shook his head reflexively. Losing himself in a meditative trance in the presence of a just-conquered enemy was probably not the best way to establish authority. Bad enough he was having to do this at all. What was his purpose here—to win Deutsch over? Or to find the pirate's weak spots, so he could be controlled? Legroeder hated this, hated being someone's handler, which was more or less what Fre'geel wanted him to be.
"If you haven't tried it with implants, you may be underestimating their value." Deutsch gazed at him probingly. "You said you wanted communication."
Legroeder blinked. "So?"
"Well, they're good for solitary meditation, of course. But they can also interact. Your augments could mediate that—if you want." Deutsch hefted the crystal in one hand.
Legroeder frowned. He hadn't thought about communicating with these. But he was the one who'd said they needed to learn about each other, to gain trust. Maybe Deutsch had a point. If they were to have even a prayer of penetrating the raider fortress, they needed to have some understanding of the place ahead of time. It would be better yet to see it through another's eyes. Still... there was an intimacy to this sort of joining; it was something you did with friends. Good friends.
"No need, if you don't want to." Deutsch replaced the crystal in its case and floated to his recliner. The levitator housing that passed for his hips settled into a recess in the seat, and the entire apparatus tilted back about fifteen degrees. It looked as though it reclined fully for sleeping.
"Perhaps—" Legroeder began, driven more by some inner momentum that he didn't understand than by logic "—perhaps a short session would be useful. At a moderate level."
They were not friends. And yet, they were already linked in a way that reminded him of his bond with Maris—brought together by circumstance, by the condition of being fellow prisoners. Could the same bonding force work here? Was it something that could be summoned? In the back of his mind, stirred perhaps by his own implants, he felt a growing curiosity about Deutsch.
Deutsch gazed at him assessingly. "You might find these somewhat more powerful than your pearlgazers." He said it as though they were two men standing in a shop talking about the latest innovations in meditation gear, the tensions of the recent battle forgotten.
Legroeder nodded. "May I?" He reached out to touch the tip of a long, blue crystal. Deutsch's arm telescoped out and picked the crystal out of the case and handed it to him. Legroeder sat back in the desk chair and held the sapphire-like gem up to the light. It appeared to have its own inner fire: threads and facets of self-contained light.
"We start separately," Deutsch said. "The interaction between the crystals will come, as we meditate. If that's a problem..." His silver eyes peered at Legroeder. Legroeder shook his head. "All right, then." Deutsch held the ruby crystal almost reverently in his hands.
Legroeder allowed his gaze to drift downward into the depths of the crystal. It already felt different from the pearlgazers: more active, more alive. And yet the approach was the same, to let his thoughts flicker inward... to let them settle into the object's inner fire, until the stirrings of the subconscious sent them swirling in a new direction.
He heard his augments urging him on; then they melted out of sight.
Slow, deep breathing...
He
felt himself slipping downward, drawn by the crystal. His thoughts came together in sparkles of cerulean blue, like plankton in the sea... or particles of knowledge in a datanet, forming threads of light, commingling and joining. Voices chattered in the distance. His own thoughts? The implants?
He became aware of droplets of light moving against darker surroundings, sketching zigzagging paths outward. The augments, reaching out... as if they knew what they were doing, even if he did not. He watched, hypnotized by the patterns drawn in liquid light...
Only gradually did he become aware of crosstalk between crystals, voices murmuring distantly. So many inner voices... asking why he was doing this. Why he was doing the mission.
Because I must.
But why?
For my friends... for me...
A tangled vine of voices, his own inner voices, curling around the knots of questions.
To strike at piracy... to find truth...
But who'd appointed him a seeker of truth and justice?
There was a strange shifting sensation in his mind, as the voices wrapped around and around...
To learn the truth of Impris... to find answers among the Kyber...
Shift...
There may be others interested in these questions...
He felt a sudden confusion. Not all the voices were his, or his implants'... and he noticed certain color patterns that had come together, ruby and cerulean reflecting and joining in halos... and the implants, his and Deutsch's, were skittering and handshaking and opening tiny dialog boxes of thought...
(Is it your thoughts I'm hearing?) he said to Deutsch.
(Didn't you know?)
He hadn't been sure, at first. It wasn't threatening, so much as startling. (It's strange,) he whispered. They were joining across a distance: he and Deutsch standing on two stages in darkness, each spotlighted, calling out to each other. To share? Through stories on stage?
The Kyber rigger shut down half the lights on his side, and turned the rest to standby illumination. (You can darken or illuminate what you want. For a rigger, it should be easy.)
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