He answered in a flawless, gamy Skhe dialect. She recognized the invective common to Skhe spacers, unheard on Jindigar’s lips in all the years she’d known him. Switching on Arlai’s translator beam, he added in character, “I’ll have you know I was hatched within earshot of Ssthinmeer, and schooled under three adults. Florard I ain’t, but good enough for the likes of any mere port inspector, I sure am.”
Even Krinata had heard of the Skhe elite university, Florard. and its counterpart among the lower classes, Ssthinmeer. “Arlai, is his accent really that good?”
“Indeed. Jindigar is something of a linguist by hobby, and he’s worked Oliat with Skhe Outriders. Everyone agrees he’s a phenomenal Emulator. I couldn’t begin to criticize. I doubt if a Ssthinmeer native could notice anything amiss.”
Emulator. That was an Oliat office. She’d had no idea it meant what the title implied. What else was there she didn’t know about Oliat capability? She was beginning to think they might get away with this when the alarms sounded.
Arlai damped the shrill howl with an apology, and brought the new data onto their control boards. As she worked to remember all she’d learned about reading Arlai’s displays. Krinata noted out of the corner of her eye how Jindigar—no. Rndeel—had not flinched when the piercing screech sounded. Arlai had programmed that tone because it was pleasant but attention-grabbing for Skhe.
Arlai briefed them, “Distress signal is an hour away at Bettina’s maximum. Dushau ship, Phembera registry—commandeered. Was Intentional Act; now called, Mercer’s Folly.”
He paused, saying aside to Krinata, “A Terran name on a Pham ship?’
“Never mind. Oliat’s their problem? How many aboard?” “Patience,” said Arlai. “I’m decoding.” “Code?” asked Rndeel in Skhe. “What kind of code?” “That’s the problem. I… aha! A Dushau code from Corporate League days, even before my activation, Rndeel. Here it is.”
The screen display read:
DISTRESS. SEVEN DUSHAU IMPRISONED IN INTENTIONAL ACT BY DUKE LAVOVS MEN. SURROUNDED BY FOUR ARMED ESCORT SHIPS. SIXTEEN LEHIROH GUARDS CREWING ACT, DETERMINED TO TAKE US TO PRISON TO SUPPLY BLOOD TO DEVELOP A VIRUS TO KILL DUSHAU. WE WONT PERMIT THAT. PLEASE REPORT OUR DEATHS TO FAMILY.
As she read this, Krinata heard one part of her mind repeating, If s just one rebel Duke. It doesn’t mean the Empire is crumbling,
There followed a list of Dushau names. Rndeel lunged to his feet and let out a very Skhe hiss. “Captain, request permission to attempt a rescue. Two of those Dushau are friends of Jindigar from his earliest youth.”
He stayed perfectly in character, yet Krinata could only take it as an order. Arlai certainly would. “Arlai, is there anything we can do to help them?”
There was silence, though Krinata heard scraping and crashing sounds billowing up from the nether regions of the ship. Arlai finally answered, “If the projectors still work, we might be able to run a diversion-pass. Thirlein, the Act’s Sentient, was a close friend of mine once, if she’s still in command. Rndeel. do I have permission to break her Allegiancy-bonding and reset her as I’ve been reset?”
Tensed to address this emergency, Krinata packed away her relief that Arlai’s powers were still somewhat restricted, and her utter dismay at the idea of one Sentient programming another. That was how the League was reported to have perished, in a war against renegade Sentients. Probably as untrue as the historical record that the Allegiancy perished from a Dushau conspiracy! Another part of her mind took note to ask Jindigar about that someday.
Rndeel said, in heavily accented standard, “Give Thirlein the status commands Jindigar gave you, Arlai, but be a’caution for her sanity, not to force if she resists.”
“I understand, Rndeel.”
There was a reverberation in the hull plates. Krinata asked, “What’s that noise?”
“I’m setting up our deep-space image projectors,” answered Arlai. “It’s been too long since they were used!”
“With your permission, Captain,” said Rndeel through the translator. “Flesh hands the Sentient’s a’needin’. He doesn’t know the right cusswords.”
“Go, Rndeel,” said Krinata, surprised at how easy it was to consider the Skhe a new crewmember.
For the next infinitude of minutes, Krinata sat her station listening to echoes of Skhe hisses and invective among the boomings and thumpings. To distract her from chewing her nails, Arlai gave her the plan.
“We will approach them as an armada of Lavov, Duke of the Jornay Cluster. We’ll present orders for us to take charge of their captive ship and send them to Phembera to transport emergency medical supplies to an epidemic. We will appear to their sensors to be thirty heavily armed ships. I will provide their sensors with authentic cross-chatter among our ships, but you will have to go onscreen and issue the order to this fleet captain. Ah, I have his name now: Dinel Petriski—sounds Peshtini.”
“Petriski is a minor barony. I’d be able to bully him if he was working for the Emperor, or my High Duke. But he’s serving Duke Lavov.”
“And it will appear you are a new recruit of Lavov’s. Humans seem to be taking new alliances now. What could be more natural than for Pesht to send Lavov a small armada to help with the Dushau problem?”
Krinata had liked acting in school plays, but this was straining her abilities.
“Don’t look so nervous,” admonished Arlai. “It’s out of character. Besides, I’ll feed you your lines. Here’s your new costume already.” A scurry presented her with a new hat and a shoulder drape filled with military honors. These, over her captain’s uniform turned her into a high-ranked commodore. “Now, let’s try a rehearsal.”
With the background noise of the ship being rebuilt around her, Krinata talked to a screen image of a young human man with an air of self-importance and a determination not to accept her orders. She outfaced this mock-up image seven times before Rndeel returned to squat at his station.
The Skhe swore luridly about having to wear such a hot protective suit because the stubborn Dushau Sentient wouldn’t turn off the Dushau lighting. Krinata felt her face redden at the choice epithets reserved for the Dushau. Rndeel interrupted the flow only to say, in perfect ship’s courtesy, “Target ships in sensor range, Captain. We’re approaching in formation as ordered. Shall I raise Captain Petriski?”
She swallowed dryly. “Yes, of course, Mister!” she snapped. “Those supplies are needed desperately. We haven’t a moment to waste.”
She was aware that if they could read the Jornay ships, the Jornay probes could be catching glimpses of their bridge. They waited in a tense silence until Arlai’s screen lit with a fuzzy, static-lined image of a young human male. He didn’t look like the image Krinata had jousted with, but he wore captain’s bars. His voice crackled with nervous pride as he ordered them off his course, threatening to detime and leave them awash in his wake if they didn’t veer off.
Arlai had pegged the youngster just right. No veteran would threaten before the hail was even answered. In his attempt to show strength, he showed only weakness. Krinata was a veteran of years of office politics and knew this type of green puffball. She straightened and put on her deep command voice, reciting then: false identification in an unhurried, upper-class drawl.
“Now, Fleet Captain Petriski, I suggest you ask our business before you issue us orders.”
He stammered, “I… I’m sorry. I was hasty, Commodore-Lady Zavaronne. When we left Inslaa, Duke Lavov had made no such alliance and his orders to us were explicit.”
“There’s no time for this chatter, Fleet Captain,” snapped Krinata. “We’ve an emergency on our hands. If you don’t arrive at Pillaged Ford with these anti-virals in time, it will be your neck in Lavov’s noose!” She signalled Arlai to send over the cargo cannisters.
He paled, scanned his master plotting tank, and issued orders, knowing the armada’s log would show the amount of time he’d spent arguing. His ships began to pull out of formation around the renamed Dushau ship, Mercer
’s Folly.
“Commodore-Lady Zavaronne, before we leave, allow me to dump a briefing scan into your memory.”
krinata, NO! I can’t accept it now! Arlai printed on the screen before her. my circuits are fully loaded. Even a Sentient had limits.
Krinata felt her mouth open, her jaw work up and down a few times. Before she could recover, Petriski answered as if she’d spoken. “You couldn’t have been that thoroughly briefed before you left. We’ve had an incident aboard Folly–one of the Dushau got free for a few minutes. It’s been hunted down and killed before it could get to any vital part of the ship. So we only have six to deliver, plus one body. I was about to double the inboard guard on Folly.”
“A wise precaution,” answered Krinata, aware of Rndeel’s rock-tense form behind her. “I will, of course, do exactly that. You had best be on your way.” She said it mildly, as if she’d really rather watch his punishment for disobeying.
Her manner had the desired effect. He saluted the Emperor, blanked the screen and took his small fleet away at system speed. Moments later, Arlai announced, “They’ve detimed; they’re gone. Thirlein is all right now. She’s showing the inboard guards a picture of our fleet taking up formation about them.”
“Good, get me Folly’s captain. Grassman, you said his name translates?” Krinata knew they were far from winners, yet. Eighteen tough Lehiroh had six hostages.
“Captain, what you plan a’story to ‘em?” asked Rndeel. She thought he sounded nervous.
Just then the screen lit with a craggy, dark brown face framed by pale straight hair. An older Lehiroh male.
“Commodore-Lady Zavaronne,” he acknowledged crisply. “What are your orders?”
“My first officer and I are coming over to ascertain the condition of your .prisoners,” she replied, wondering where she’d get the guts. “Then we will discuss what additional forces you may need to contain them properly. Remain in sync-time with us. Detime only on my order. Acknowledge.”
“Acknowledged,” he snapped, but as the picture faded, she thought she detected just a hint of a tremor in his voice. Was she really so formidable?
Rndeel spun on his stool. “Clever, Captain.”
“Ah, but do we have the equipment to transfer—”
“Of course.” He seemed to consider. “Somewhere.”
Arlai said, “I’ve located my fabric tube, but I’m not too certain it’s vacuum-tight. You’d best suit up. At the very least the fittings will leak.”
Krinata had never been in a spacesuit before. Rndeel had to help her with the seals and safety checks. For the first time since she’d met Arlai, she was peeved at him. He’d activated Rndeel’s scent before the Skhe helped her with the suit, so the whole suit reeked. But she refused even to think of nausea. Instead she focused on the six Dushau and how they felt to be used to destroy their own species.
That hardened her determination, but nevertheless she was terrified when she walked out of the airlock and floated free in the middle of a transparent tube through infinity.
Rndeel’s only comment was, “I’d be privy to your plan, Lady-Commodore, if you’ve a mind.”
“I haven’t a plan,” she replied, trying not to gibber. Despite Arlai’s best efforts, she might be overheard. “Just to do my duty to the Emperor and my Duke, just as I’ve done ever since you and I met. Beyond that, let us first see what these Lehiroh have been up to.” I’m actually safe here!
With Rndeel unobtrusively helping her, she managed to pull herself hand-over-hand along the safety line. Despite Arlai’s misgivings, the air pressure held, and she could have done without the suit. But that would have been unmilitary.
The airlock on Intentional Act seemed identical to Truth’s, but once through the awkward desuiting procedure, Krinata found herself in a ship so different from Truth she didn’t know which way to turn to find the bridge.
Rndeel saved the day, saluting the three Lehiroh who’d met them and demanding, “Take us to your captain, and don’t waste my Lady-Commodore’s time about it!”
They were led off through a maze of narrow shaftways lined, deck to overhead, with small round hatches. Act apparently had been fitted to carry deepsleepers. Where were they keeping sixteen Lehiroh and six Dushau?
The shaftway light and gravity were Dushau norm, giving Krinata aching feet and eyes within a few minutes. Lehiroh could toughen to the conditions quickly, and their guides seemed not to notice. Rndeel reserved comment.
The bridge was similar to Truth’s, a round well surrounded by consoles. Only here, each station was filled. A Lehiroh female turned as they entered, and said, “Captain.”
The old Lehiroh rose from the plotting scope and turned. “Commodore-Lady Zavaronne. Grassman, at your command.”
“Captain,” she replied. “This is a most unusual vessel for the transport of live cargo. I wish to be personally certain your cargo is still viable.”
“Of course. Allow me to escort you to the holding room.” He led the way off the bridge by a hatch labelled Sickbay.
Rndeel trod on her heels, and under cover of apology whispered, “In the sickbay! They were in a cargo hold.”
They arrived at an open hatch with two tall pillars flanking it. Between the pillars, a golden haze sizzled. “You’re using a snapfield?” asked Krinata. She’d only seen them in fictional adventures. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Contrary,” said Grassman. “We’ve rigged an independent power source so the ship’s Sentient can’t turn it off. She might obey one of the prisoners despite reprogramming.”
Krinata replied. “Admirable initiative, Captain. Now, I would inspect the cargo.”
The captain moved to a jury-rigged console next to one of the pillars and ordered the guard on duty there to show the interior of the sickbay. There were four rooms, each with four beds—the low platform arrangements favored by Dushau. The screen quartered to show all four rooms. Three of the Dushau were apparently asleep. One was ordering food from a console, another was in the head, and the third wakeful one was watching them through a screen.
The watcher called, and within moments, all six Dushau were gathered like a clump of indigo shadow before the snapfield barrier. Not a flicker of recognition or excitement passed among them. Yet Krinata felt they weren’t so drugged or beaten that they no longer cared. There were four males and two females, dressed in infirmary smocks, barefoot. There were no obvious physical injuries she could point to and demand an explanation.
She glanced skeptically at the captain. Then she shot a ringer out toward one of the Dushau, a male so dark his velvet skin seemed deep purple. “You! Who are you?”
The man stood straighter, not slender but skeletal—with extreme age, she judged, not starvation. He had to be the oldest Dushau she’d ever seen. The captain began to answer, but Krinata cut him off. She asked the old Dushau, “Has this man mistreated you?”
“Only to the extent of his Duke’s orders,” he answered.
“There were seven of you,” challenged Krinata. “Where’s the missing one?”
“We wish we knew.” It was an indictment.
She glanced at Rndeel, but he didn’t so much as twitch Skhe-fashion. “Captain,” she said, “tell them what’s become of the other one.”
“But you know what happened.”
“Never mind what I know! Tell them.”
“For what purpose..” the man started. Then his eyes met Rndeel’s, and he drew breath and said, “The escaped prisoner was killed before he could reach any sensitive area of the ship. His body’s in a deepsleep bay, and should be perfectly usable.”
Krinata felt the electrical shock of the six Dushau, and to distract attention from them to let them recover, she said, “No.. that they understand, perhaps they’ll be less eager to escape.
Captain, turn that snapfield off and let us in there. I wish to speak with the prisoners alone.”
The captain drew breath as if to protest, but Krinata whirled to face him—looking up at the hu
lking Lehiroh—and scowled, as if daring him to argue. Discipline barely covered a sullen resentment as the captain ordered five men to aim their leptolizers set to emit the warning gray haze and high-pitched whine of weapons functions. He drove the prisoners back from the hatch, then ordered another guard at a console far down the shaftway to kill the snapfield.
The gold haze died. Krinata preceded Rndeel into the sickbay, then ordered the field on and the guards away. “You, too, Captain. My discussion will be in private.”
The irritated captain gathered his men and left the immediate vicinity. Krinata led the way into an inner room where she found screen controls not too dissimilar to Truth’s. She got a view of the shaftway, saw that only the guard on the snapfield power source was still there, and then said to Rndeel, “See if Thirlein can secure this area.”
Rndeel played the controls with a familiar touch. Thirlein, her simulacrum a strikingly handsome Dushau female, came onscreen. “You have privacy. Grisnilter, this lady and her companion are friends. Arlai has—”
“Arlai!” The elder spokesman’s deep violet eyes widened, and he raked Krinata and Rndeel with a glance that should have penetrated Rndeel’s disguise, but didn’t. “That’s Jindigar’s Sentient! Where is he?”
Rndeel cupped both hands over his mouth, and they came away with a large dental appliance that had distorted his features into Skhe norms. He said in Jindigar’s voice, rendering a sincerely respectful bow, “I’m here, Grisnilter. Oddly dressed, but for a reason. We got your distress call and came to rescue you.”
Krinata had never considered Dushau features expressive, but she saw shocked gratitude, relief and joy clear on all the faces but Grisnilter’s. He raked Jindigar with a glance so full of bitter censure and repulsed indignation that she took an instant dislike to the frail old Dushau. And in the wake of that dislike came a fury she couldn’t name, but had to shove aside to deal with immediate dangers. “Getting you all out of here is not going to be easy.”
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