Rafik shook his head slightly. “Their leader at home died,” he said, “and they thought it was more important to go home and vote than to continue the conquest; they could always destroy Europe some other time. Fortunately, they never got back to it.”
“Oh,” Gill said, disappointed. “I don’t suppose we can count on that happening again. You’ll just have to think up some ruse, Rafik.”
“Me?”
“You and Delszaki Li are the brains of this outfit,” Gill told him blandly. “Me, I’m just a simple, horny-handed son of the lunar regolith. You two work out how humanity is going to exterminate this swarm of killer bees, and I’ll just pop off to Rushima and fetch our Acorna home again. Mr. Li, what’s the fastest ship Maganos has available right now?”
“Wait just a minute,” Rafik protested. “You’ll go for Acorna? Excuse me, but I believe I have some interest in this matter as well.”
“And I,” said Pal.
“You’re not going anywhere without me,” Judit said.
“You two can’t go,” Gill protested, “Mr. Li needs you. And Rafik has to stay here and think.”
“I could think just as well on board a ship as anywhere else,” Rafik said, “and anyway, I’m not nearly twisty enough to solve this problem. What we need is somebody who can persuade all the major planetary federations to disburse large sums of cash and most of their defense systems, up front, to guard against an alien threat that they’ve never heard of and that is being described only by some other aliens.”
He paused, appalled at the magnitude of the task, so described.
“What we need, in fact,” he said finally, “is Uncle Hafiz.” He pounded one fist into his palm in frustration. “And he is walled up behind the Shield, where no one can communicate with him…or the rest of Laboue…at all.”
(Walled up behind the ‘Shield’? Khaari, I have a bad feeling about this. Do you suppose that first planet we approached…)
(Oh, no!)
(Oh, yes.)
Aloud, Neeva said, “Where is it, this Laboue?”
“Not on the maps,” Rafik said. “My uncle and the others who make it their headquarters prefer their privacy. And I am sworn to House Harakamian now; on the lives of my unborn sons, I may not tell you its location.”
Neeva nodded. “Tell us nothinn, thenn,” she acquiesced, “but I am not forbiddenn to tell you that before we approached you onn Maganyos…Maganos,” she corrected herself, “we had made contact by vid with residents of another planet on the fringes of your settled area, the first one we identified. Since at that time we did not have the LAANYE programmed to teach us your language, we attempted to communicate by vid; we showed them some of the scenes broadcast from Khleevi torture ships, to make them aware of the danger. We received a brief vidcast from the planet…there was a biped…human…dark as you, Rafik, who showed us pictures of Acorna and a drawing of her escape pod. That was how we learned of her existence. But before we could question this human further, the entire planet was shut down under an impenetrable shield that blocked all communication, even visual transmission. Our only clue was a message sent from the location we had been communicating with, indecipherable but for the one word ‘Acorna.’ That message went to a ship which then departed hastily in this direction; we followed the ship to Maganos in the hope that its owner might lead us to Acorna.”
She inclined her head gracefully toward Rafik.
(Khaari, point out the location of that first planet on these maps.)
Khaari took a light-wand and illuminated a star some distance from Maganos and lying well away from the more populous parts of this sector.
“I very much fear,” Neeva went on, “that it is we who were responsible for your…your mother-sib’s retreat behind the shield.”
Rafik looked at the illuminated area, lips set in a grim line.
“Without breaking my oath to House Harakamian,” he said, “I think I can say that you are very probably correct. And you know,” he went on in a slightly more hopeful tone, “perhaps it’s not Uncle Hafiz’s brains we need so much just now…perhaps what we need is the Shield. If such a device could be installed on every inhabited planet, beginning with those in the direct line of the Khleevi fleet…”
“But the secret of the Shield,” Pal pointed out, “is presently behind the Shield, together with your uncle’s invaluably twisty mind. So perhaps our first priority ought to be finding some way to crack the Shield. Surely Hafiz has told you something about how it functions?”
“Nothing,” Rafik admitted. “I am not sure he even understands it himself. The genius of our House is in finance, not technology. But we always hire the best technicians.”
“Then the engineer who designed and installed the Shield…” Pal began.
“Martin Dehoney,” Rafik said. There was a moment of silence.
“Well,” Gill said slowly, “he was the best, no question about it!”
He was also dead; the design of Maganos Moon Base had been Dehoney’s last creation.
“Provola Quero worked with Dehoney,” Judit said. “Perhaps she might have some ideas. Why don’t you two get together and discuss the matter with Mr. Li while we…”
“Oh, no,” Rafik said. “I’m going, too.”
“And we,” said Neeva. “Acorna is my sister-child; it is my responsibility to see to her safety. Besides, our ship is faster than any your people could design.”
Rafik’s teeth flashed white under the thin dark line of his mustache. “We’ll just see about that!”
“As for planetary defense,” Mr. Li put in, “House of Li has excellent liquidity, as does House Harakamian. Why not hire mercenaries from Kilumbemba Empire?”
Gill whistled through his teeth. “The Red Bracelets? If anybody can take out the Khleevi, they should be able to.” Delszaki Li’s personal bodyguard was rumored to have served with the Red Bracelets at one time, and he had never met any human being tougher or more frightening than Nadhari Kando.
“Say,” Rafik put in, evidently thinking along the same lines, “Is it true that Nadhari used to—”
“She prefers not to discuss her past.”
“Oh. Well…but, Delszaki, it would cost a fortune.”
“House Harakamian and House Li command two fortunes,” Li said calmly. “Also, Kilumbemba mercenaries will work on commission. Percentage of profits in captured alien ships, alien technology could be powerful lure.”
“And,” Gill said slowly, “they’re probably bored right now. The Kilumbemba Empire hasn’t expanded in several years. The Red Bracelets are expensive to maintain and dangerous when bored, but Kilumbemba daren’t release them from their contract for fear of a revolt in one of the new, um, ‘acquisitions.’ It just might work. Rafik, you and Delszaki are the best negotiators; before we go anywhere, why don’t you see if we can subcontract from Kilumbemba for the best part of their mercenary space fleet?”
“And pledge Uncle Hafiz’s credit to support them, I suppose,” Rafik said with resignation. “Not that I don’t think it’s money well spent,” he hastened to explain, “but Uncle Hafiz is going to kill me when he comes out from behind the Shield.”
“He wouldn’t grudge the credits to save Acorna,” Gill pointed out.
“No—but what do you bet he’d find a way to make somebody else pay them?” Rafik grinned and sat down at a com unit. “After this little maneuver, I had better make tracks for Rushima…and I’m not sure it would be wise to come back! I don’t want Yukata Batsu wearing my ears on his trophy belt!”
“Shhh,” Gill said in a rumbling attempt at an undertone, “I think that kind of talk upsets our guests.” He felt it would definitely be unwise to tell the Linyaari about Yukata Batsu, Hafiz’s chief competitor on Laboue, and his unpleasant habit of keeping trophies from his defeated enemies…including the ears of Hafiz’s own son, Tapha. Hafiz himself had been more upset about Tapha’s stupidity in letting himself be captured than about the mutilation, but somehow Gill felt the Linyaari were n
ot used to taking such matters in their stride. They are still not sure we’re civilized enough to deal with, he thought. Maybe we’d better not let them listen in on the negotiations with the Kilumbemba mercenaries, either. And on the excuse that Rafik and Delszaki Li needed absolute privacy for this ticklish task, he offered to escort the Linyaari on a brief tour of Maganos Moon Base while the necessary wheeling and dealing took place.
“That is—if you can be sure nobody will notice your…um…unusual appearance?” One thing they did not need to deal with was the effect on Maganos of seeing four “Acornas” suddenly appearing in their midst.
“We attracted no attention on our way here,” Melireenya pointed out. “As long as Thariinye does not lose his temper again, we should have no trouble.”
“Just keep us away from those blasted kids,” Thariinye said.
Since the raison d’être of Maganos was the education and training of the bondchildren liberated from Kezdet, Gill found this directive rather difficult to follow, but with Judit’s help he managed to keep the Linyaari occupied for some time in child-free areas of the base. Indeed, Provola Quero alone would have been able to lecture them indefinitely on the design of the base living quarters, mining facilities, and engineering shop; but even the Linyaari thirst for knowledge was eventually satiated by the seemingly endless string of facts and sketches at Provola’s disposal, and at last Gill could think of nothing but to bring them back to Delszaki Li’s rooms before they became too tired to maintain their shielding projections.
He was relieved to deduce that the negotiations had gone well; Delszaki Li was napping in his hover-chair, and Rafik was sprawled on cushions with a look of satisfaction on his thin, dark face and a glass of something that would probably have been forbidden by the First Prophet in his right hand.
“All done?” Gill asked cautiously.
“All fixed.” Rafik tipped the glass to his mouth and took a sip of the amber-colored liquid. “He”—he jerked his head toward the sleeping Delszaki—“is a genius at this. I think he might even be able to teach Uncle Hafiz a thing or two,” he said with surprising generosity. “Would you believe he’s got Kilumbemba underwriting half the costs of the expedition, because they feel it’s to their benefit to keep the mercenaries busy and in training rather than having them at loose ends where they might stir up trouble? Although I’m not sure they realize it yet,” he added thoughtfully. “The way Delszaki put it was that we would save Kilumbemba a lot of money by paying half the retaining salaries of the mercenaries for the duration of this expedition. Which means that effectively they are still paying half the costs…and then House Li is covering seventy percent of the remainder. I only had to sign over the profits on a couple of planetary systems in Uncle Hafiz’s name, he might not even kill me when he finds out what he’s paying for, but I don’t plan to stick around and check it out. Very generous of Delszaki.”
Mr. Li’s eyelids flickered. Gill suspected the old man was not really asleep, and he wondered just how “generous” Delszaki Li’s offer had really been. He would have a controlling interest in the expedition now, and if he was right about the profits to be made from exploiting Khleevi technology, the lion’s share of those profits would go to House Li rather than House Harakamian. Insensibly Gill began to feel more confident about the whole project. The Linyaari were so convinced that no one could withstand a Khleevi attack, they’d infected him with their pessimism—but Delszaki Li was no man’s fool, and if he was already maneuvering to control profits, he must be counting the war as good as won.
“The only problem is,” Rafik went on, “I did have to throw in a little extra inducement to Admiral Ikwaskwan.”
“Admiral?” Gill said sharply. He had heard the notorious leader of the Kilumbemba mercenary forces called many things, but never anything so flattering as that.
Rafik waved a languid hand. “It’s not exactly a formal military structure. If the man wants to be an Admiral, or a Brigadier, or High Potentate, let him take the title. Thing is, he wanted a share in Rosewater’s Revelation.”
“You sold your uncle’s best racehorse to Ikwaskwan?”
“Only a part share, and it is in a good cause. You think he’ll mind?”
“I think you’d better head for Rushima and not come back, like you were saying at first,” Gill told him. “What have you been drinking to make you think Hafiz is going to be happy about teaming up with a—a—” It wasn’t so much that words failed him, as that Judit’s presence inhibited him from using any of the words he felt to be appropriate. “With Ikwaskwan,” he finished weakly as a familiar smoky scent, wafting through the air, distracted his attention. He took another deep sniff and recognized it. “MY BEST SCOTCH, THAT’S WHAT YOU’VE BEEN INTO!”
“I earned it, weasel-wording and sweet-talking Ikwaskwan and half the Kilumbembese Cabinet while you were playing tour guide,” Rafik said without bothering to move out of the way of Gill’s furiously working hands. “Judit, call off your husband before he damages these precious vocal cords. Oh, and by the way, we had a spurt-message from the Acadecki.”
“You did?” Gill’s hands dropped to his sides. “Oh, all right, I won’t kill you until you tell me what was in it.”
Rafik grinned up at him. “That’s not very good motivation.”
“Very well, then, I’ll let you live. This time.”
“It was a little confusing,” Rafik confessed. “Basically it said, ‘Disregard previous message, everything all right here, stopping for R&R on Rushima.’ I doubt that means they’ve defeated the entire Khleevi fleet single-handedly; it probably just means they’ve outwitted those space pirates Rushima was complaining to the Shenjemi Federation about. That should be well within Calum’s and Acorna’s abilities,” Rafik said with sublime confidence.
“Did you tell her to get out of there?”
“Couldn’t. The Acadecki’s not answering; they must all be on Rushima, and Rushima isn’t transmitting. I expect the space pirates knocked out their satellite communications. I did send a long spurt telling Acorna about her people showing up here, and that we’d be with her in five days. If anybody picks up on the Acadecki, they should get that much.”
“You didn’t tell her about the Khleevi?”
“That sort of message is not something you want to leave lying about a ship’s com system until somebody is inspired to pick up,” Rafik pointed out. “What if the Rushimese hear it? There could be panic, rioting—and Acorna’s somewhere on the surface, we don’t know where. I thought it better to wait until we can patch through some sort of direct contact.”
Gill had to admit the logic of this, but knowing for sure that Acorna was on Rushima—and unwarned about the deadly danger approaching—made him more impatient than ever to take off. The hours they would have to wait for the Kilumbemba forces to mobilize dragged like lead.
Ten
Haven, Unified Federation Date 334.05.18
“So, what do we do now?” Calum asked. “Wait till the dust settles and there’s someone we can talk to about leaving?” “I think we better be sure they know it’s us who are leaving and not some of the enemies escaping,” Acorna said. “I’m going to check on my ’ponics.”
Calum watched her go. He hoped there was enough there for her to eat. He also hoped that she was going to change out of those rags and into some outfit suitable to the real Acorna.
“Anyone else for a bite to eat while we talk this over?”
He looked first at Dr. Hoa, who hadn’t moved since sinking into a seat. The man’s color was better and his expression more alert. “Are you feeling well enough for a meal?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me a good cup of tea won’t set right in next to no time,” the scientist said with a little smile. “That is, if you should happen to have tea.”
“In fact, I do,” Calum said, making his way to the galley. “Tea for all?”
“What’s ‘tea’?” Markel asked.
“You can find out after you’ve cleaned u
p a bit,” Johnny Greene said.
“Why should I do that when I might just have to do a flit again?”
Johnny closed off his nostrils and raised his eyebrows. “In this fresher air, ol’ buddy, you stink. So do I, I’m sure, but not quite as badly.”
Calum, whose back was to Markel, grinned. He hadn’t wanted to mention the fact.
“If you happened to have any clean clothes, Calum,” Johnny went on, “I could sure stand a change myself. Any old ship suit’ll do.”
“Second cabinet in the first cabin on the right. And there’s a sanitary unit directly opposite the bunk.”
Dr. Hoa was on his second cup of tea and looking far more alert when Acorna came back, wearing more normal attire. Then both Johnny and a far cleaner Markel showed up, although the boy looked a trifle surly.
Markel took the cup of tea and some finger foods that Calum had defrosted, and went to the place where he had deposited his equipment. He put in the earphone, and in a few seconds was smiling with great satisfaction, but then he glowered again.
“If I hadn’t been stuck with you, I’d’ve been in it, too,” he said.
“If you hadn’t been able to save Acorna, Calum, and Dr. Hoa first, young ’un,” Johnny Greene said in firm contradiction, “there wouldn’t have been a coup at all. I gather someone had the sense to gas the searchers in the tubes?”
For a moment, Markel stared in astonishment at his friend. Then his expression was both smug that he had actually been a crucial element in the rebellion and surprised. “How’d you know how they got them?”
Johnny shrugged. “That’s what I would have done. Nueva, Dom, Sengrat, and the others would have been so intent on wanting to get at least Dr. Hoa back into their hands, they’d’ve depleted their guard points.” He waved to indicate the guards they had overcome. “We’d’ve been up the crick without a paddle if the full complement of guards had been here in the hangar.” Then he grinned at Markel. “Whaddaya bet that Kerratz, Andreziana, and Zanegar led the revolution?”
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