Liaden Universe 20: The Gathering Edge

by Sharon Lee

  Now the stations could see them, and the other ships, too. Her hand was on a call button when the status lights showed an uneasy truth.

  Primadonna listed no Pilot in Charge.

  The roster said, “Primadonna, Hugglelans, Port Lien for Necessaries.”

  * * *

  The system, like the star, was called Aubernet; like many systems the gas giants were still hugging the star. Eventually, of course, would come the disturbance that would launch one or more of the six of them into far more distant orbits and rearrange the orbits of the three stony worlds…but for now the center held and the shipping was all about the middle stony world’s livable atmosphere and the easily accessible natural satellites.

  “Prefer the Minot feed, Joyita, and find out what the hall there has available for trade. We’ve got some bundles we can move—send the small hold’s basics and see if we get any requests. Also do the standard info search with Minot. Advise and update the bridge. News, social news, too. Whatever seems useful.”

  “Adjunct information search begun, Theo.”

  “Not landing on Frolich, then?” That was Clarence.

  They’d considered Frolich because of their library. Nothing like Delgado, of course, but the guidebooks claimed they had a University-certified head librarian—

  “And check the staff credentials for Minot’s library or info service.”

  “Yes, Theo.”

  “Better stick with the orbitals, don’t you think?”

  “Did think so, if y’recall, but I understand, Captain.”

  Theo laughed gently. Of course he understood. It was hard to stop being a copilot, even if one had changed ships.

  Joyita managed to make the incoming information sound interesting, and normally it would be interesting. Theo listened with one ear as she considered her necessities.

  “There are no outstanding warrants for any of us under our license names. There are no liens or outstanding bills on Bechimo. Laughing Cat is not yet registered. Sorry, Laughing Cat is in the process of being registered, please advise before doing business. Minot does not require a customs check of items shipping through. Tourists unfamiliar with low-grav are advised to hire a guide. No visible high-energy hand weapons, please. This is strictly enforced. No open flame intoxicants permitted in public areas. This is strictly enforced. Language order for public dealing is Terran prime, then Trade. Liaden is not a commerce language at this outpost…”

  To begin with, Theo thought, Primadonna was off ordinary routes—and that was information, right there. Well, Hugglelans was expanding, after all, trying to take advantage of Korval’s recent reversals. Rig Tranza now—

  “TerraTrade recognizes trades in Aubernet System,” Joyita continued. “The Minot Pilots Guild circuit office is scheduled to open again in thirty-two days. The Frolich Pilots Guild office is scheduled to open again for sixteen days in twelve days. Minot’s two trade bars are full service and always open. Liaden is not spoken in Coville Corner.”

  “Joyita, can we get a pilots-on-station update—just send it to my Screen Seven, Terran alphabet. Also,” she added after a moment, “I’d like to see what the proceedings against the Hugglelans ship Primadonna are and anything on crew. Any recent civil disturbances we should be aware of on station?”

  She could feel Bechimo working in the back of her mind. Kara and Clarence acknowledged or repeated, as necessary, particular bits of Joyita’s information.

  “Docks twelve and fourteen are dry, with airlock and comm interface only. Day rates only, no discounts. Dock sixteen is out of service. Dock twenty is available for midterm full-connectable lease only. Two refreshing docks are open, one owned and operated by Waysn Unlimited and one operated by Minot Port Authority.”

  “Dry, I’m thinking?”

  Theo signed Yes to Clarence, but Kara called her on it.

  “Records, Theo. We’ve got a lot of input right now.”

  So Theo signed exactly so and called out, “That’s correct, Clarence, thank you. Run us in, if you please, as PIC. Kara’s second.”

  “Yes,” he said, and Kara said quickly, “I’m live,” which was plain on Theo’s screen, and also in that space in her head that she shared with Bechimo.

  Several images re-formed around the ship as Theo got down to the hard parts.

  “We have library and infofeed rates, Theo,” Joyita said. “Net rates are high, but there’s no scramble at all on open radio.”

  “Clarence is on PIC. All the way in. Clarence, dock us dry. If you can spot Primadonna, pick a spot for the best visuals going in. If they ask, just tell them we’re recently commissioned out of Waymart and are on a route-building and shakedown run. We’ve got some small goods to trade and will consider odd-lot or pickup trade.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Theo closed her eyes, the better to access Bechimo’s feed. The space around glittered with ships and energy. There were no long-range single ships at dock, no obvious cutters, no major military presence. Minot Station had some defenses but it was no battle station. Frolich and its stations existed for trade, and there was a reason for that.

  Minot Station in particular was well located with regard to multiple Carresens destinations and enough local trade to make it an entrepreneurial haven for those fond of living off of market vagaries. With Frolich and the gas giants’ moons to work with, they also had decent raw materials for export as well as to feed their small ship repair and ship-building industries, industries growing now that the heavy gas-and-carbon nebularity had moved beyond the Carresens trade domains.

  In light of the recent upset in the trade balance, old routes were being reopened, and new trade opportunities were being formulated.

  In short, Minot was due for a boom. And here was a Hugglelans ship, likely on the same kind of mission she was on: search out the future for an expanding fleet of ships and traders.

  Bechimo’s presence became more definite to Theo as he again offered the power of the deep scanned images: energy levels, heat maps, projected orbits, ships with obvious maintenance issues and those without, ships with low level shields still in place, and still the local and regional magnetic field strength and plasma flow.

  Bechimo was sensing data on so many levels that Theo fought to understand what was before her—around her. It reminded her of her first time in a sailplane, with a working airport’s sky worth of information and no surety of which details were important.

  She felt that she was just beginning to understand some kind of a whole when the glittering influx of information dimmed. She was, Theo realized, seeing Minot through an overlayment—the image of another station! And then another, and another…

  “What are we doing?” she asked. Abruptly the overlays came clear to her—there was Ynsolt’i, then Cresthaller, Chustling and…Eylot, which overlay got stronger as Ynsolt’i’s dropped entirely away.

  “I compare and model,” Bechimo said. “First, I search for coincident ships. I search for risk factors. In fact, I search for any coincident conditions besides our own presence. I consider information I have learned within the ship as well.”

  “And have you arrived at any conclusions?”

  “I have observed,” admitted Bechimo, “that we seem to frequent older and smaller ports of call. Also, ports with a Terran bias. This may be seen as unusual for a ship with ties to Tree-and-Dragon.”

  There was then, within the flows and energies of the system, Jump glare. The nonchaotic wave front would be several moments before giving over ship IDs, but again came the feeling of overlays matching matching matching…

  “I believe that is a Liaden ship, Theo. I have alerted Joyita, who will alert Win Ton, as the pattern matches that of a Scout observer ship. There, yes, they call themselves a packet ship. I have no ID verification as yet. I will alert you when they broadcast. Now, your attention will be needed at docking.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Bechimo

  Minot Station

  Docking took attention, indee
d.

  Joyita was handling basic comm. Clarence, Kara backing him, was on ship dock, which included negotiating with the portmaster’s office. Win Ton was on scan.

  Which left Theo on for the decision trees for both trade opportunities and supplies.

  A rush of queries came in once Laughing Cat was registered with the station. The news that they were a Tree-and-Dragon contractor brought another rush. In the meanwhile, supply catalogs starting filling a side queue.

  Then, Theo had to take her own comm for the Minot Admin desk’s query about their claim to consular status for Hevelin, which they needed before docking. Some ports specifically banned norbears; others had livestock regulations.

  Minot didn’t ban norbears, which was good. But it had numerous and—judging from the fact that Theo’s contact in Admin had to twice check with an “expert” for clarity—confusing livestock regs. Finally, Hevelin’s certifications were accepted, but there was additional delay while a particular set of high-ups was chased down or waked up, and final lockup to the station was put on hold until that had been accomplished. Apparently it wasn’t every day that an ambassador deigned to visit Minot Station.

  Clarence chatted with his contact in the portmaster’s office while they waited for the high-ups to be found. It was banter mostly, and apparently pleasing, because the voice warmed up some—but, there, Clarence had an easy way with him, Theo thought. People liked Clarence, unless he wanted them not to. He chuckled and said something low which had the cadence of a word she’d heard from Clarence on comm back a docking or two. A code word? Connections from his former career as a Juntavas Boss? Or just old pilot code for comforts available and invited?

  It might have been the latter, because the voice gave a low laugh in return, her tone warming appreciably this time.

  “Well, Pilot, we’re not Terra or Liad, but we find ways to amuse ourselves on the off-shifts, and you have my name. But you know, we do have a five-hour quiet shift—that’s five out of twenty-five—that the galleries and bars are closed. Happens that the lights go dim right about the time you’re set for latching on, so if you’re making walkabout decisions you’ll want to keep that in mind. Not that the dockside’s closed, that’s always up for ship stuff, and we staff all hours here. The public social though, that closes five hours…’Member that!”

  Theo shook her head—likely no one noticed. It appeared that her copilot had a talent for connection. Well. Connecting with people, that’s kind of what he’d done as a Boss and as a pilot, wasn’t it? It was good to have that talent available to the ship.

  She flicked her fingers—not quite a nonsense gesture—and returned to her lists and lineups. Clarence’s luck or lack of it was information.

  In five hours they could at least take a look at whatever came across the comm lines, and take a break, too. Ship and crew could sync with Minot time, and maybe find out what the station offered ambassadors once they received permission to dock.

  Clearly they were going to need more or better documentation from the Pilots Guild. For that matter, they were going to be needing the Guild regarding the pathfinders. She had no wish to hang around the station for a ten-day or more for the official Guild office—surely someone must represent the Guild in emergencies, even when the office was closed.

  “Theo,” Joyita said, interrupting these thoughts, “I have begun passing two screens to the pathfinders in their stateroom. They are receiving the general Minot approach vids, without your commands or comments, and they are receiving our general system scan, again without voice commentary and without the targeting overlays.”

  “They’re pilots,” Theo allowed. “They ought to find this instructive. After all, it’s their first port in a new universe. Are they still at studying, in between?”

  “Yes, Theo, they are, with Grakow’s aid and assistance. From their conversation I would say they regard the vids as a sort of relaxation. An entertainment.”

  “Excellent,” Kara said, low, but still to the bridge entire. “The last time one of my approaches was amusement for other pilots we were still back at piloting academy. I had hoped to have outlived it!”

  Theo grimaced at the undertones and the heat; that much anger could be a problem…

  Unbidden, there rose in her mind three charts: one of Kara’s vital signs sitting pilot alone; another, measured during the emergency at Ynsolt’i; the third, here and now.

  Yes, a spike of heat and blood pressure now, but…

  Theo concentrated and the images vanished. She didn’t want to be monitoring Kara. It was—she didn’t want to know Kara this way.

  She felt a sense of chagrin—not hers—and took a deep breath.

  Inner calm, she told herself, and looked again to her board.

  “Theo.” Within their bond space, Bechimo offered her an image: the incoming ship now both identified and targeted on a scan map not yet mirrored on the bridge screens.

  “Joyita will share this information with the crew. You should know that I have seen this ship before, while I was at rest. Before our bonding, before the firefights, were I without a mission or captain, I believe I would flee before this ship. Now, Theo, I find it…an interesting development.”

  “Are you in danger from this ship?” Theo demanded.

  “I believe not, though it would have been different were I not crewed.”

  “We’ll be careful, then?”

  “That should be sufficient, yes.”

  She blinked fully back to the bridge just as the scan image changed.

  “This incoming ship has finally identified itself,” Joyita was saying. “It reports as the Chandra Marudas, a Scout packet boat out of Drasto Yards. My guide to ships is not entirely up to date, I find, but a dozen years ago this ship was listed as a survey vessel out of Solcintra, Liad.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath from Win Ton’s station, followed by a sigh. He moved his hands, as if in indecision, then turned his chair to face the bridge and made a seated bow of privileged communication.

  “I share knowledge for the crew, here and now,” he said, looking directly at Theo. “It is not to be taken elsewhere or bandied about on port. It is not…safe, we will say.”

  Theo nodded and motioned for him to continue.

  “Yes.” He sighed again.

  “I know this ship. Chandra Marudas is an observation and surveillance ship, long involved in Scouts’ mission of the sequestration of Old Tech.”

  “Is Minot a port known for Old Tech? I saw nothing in the…”

  “Minot fits in a gap, Theo; it is located between several powers…and thus will be a place where the nearly reputable may trade with those above reproach. The system is one that requires checking for contraband from time to time.”

  “But the home port change,” suggested Joyita almost eagerly. “Is it not true that the removal of Korval from Liad has altered many things within the Scouts—the organization of Scouts is what I mean. Might this ship have been repurposed now that it has a new home?”

  “As a packet ship? Unless…well, but how could you know? Drasto Yards has long been a center of quiet work for the Scouts. I was there as part of my duties. In my judgment as a Scout—no. I think that a purpose-built ship like the Chandra Marudas is unlikely to find a new life as a simple packet ship. Surely it has holds and might be disguised, but I do not believe it has given up the thrill of the hunt.”

  Kara sat up straighter. “Is it looking for Bechimo?”

  Joyita in his screen shrugged.

  “As the captain explained to the pathfinders, Bechimo is not Old Tech,” he said. “The ship has provenance. We know the names of the investors, the name and location of the yard that built—”

  “Does a ship that just recently came through as flotsam from the Old Universe count as Old Tech?” Clarence wondered aloud.

  Theo stared at the side of his face. He didn’t turn his head.

  “It’s cargo,” she said.

  “Illegal cargo’s been confiscated by author
ity before now,” Clarence answered.

  Theo took a breath.

  “It belongs to Clan Korval,” she said.

  “That might play better.” Win Ton spoke before Clarence; the older pilot smiled, eyes on his screens.

  “However, Captain—with all respect—it would be good to have clarity before we must declare Spiral Dance to authority.”

  Theo stared at the image in her head, the one that showed increasingly accurate targeting information for all that the Scout ship was nearly a day from dockside.

  Not a solution, she said, and the image faded, leaving behind the whisper of her own voice.

  Not a solution…yet.

  She sighed and looked round the bridge at her crew.

  “It would be good,” she said, “if we could find a representative of the Pilots Guild to talk to.”

  * * * * *

  Crew was at liberty, now they were at dock. Win Ton had retired to his cabin, and finding himself neither tired enough to sleep nor yet awake enough to attend a vid or a book, had taken to dance.

  “Chandra Marudas has not filed for Minot Station, Win Ton.”

  He’d been deep in the dance, his mind filled with the movements and perhaps a variant of a song he’d once meant to sing to Theo of a private morning. It therefore took a moment for the words and the meaning of the words to reach him.

  Reluctantly, he allowed the song to fade, as his body found a natural end to the sequence he had been exploring and brought him to rest in the middle of his cabin. He bent and picked up the towel he had draped over the back of his chair and wiped his face.

  The screen in his cabin was filled now, not with Joyita, whose voice he had belatedly recognized, but with what was likely a scrubbed version of the main system scan.

  Towel between his hands, he considered the screen and—yes, there was Chandra Marudas, destination listed as Frolich, via a premium insertion orbit.

  In addition to Chandra Marudas, and the other local ships, the station’s bulk was a ghostly layer, seen through by the combination of direct sensors, stolen feeds, and Bechimo’s increasingly capable interpretive signal gathering.