Dragon Ship

by Sharon Lee, Steve Miller

  “Thank you. I wonder about norbears.”

  “Well, you’re not alone there,” said Clarence, taking his seat again and adjusting it to recline slightly. “The Scouts wonder about norbears and any number of scholarly folk wonder about norbears, not to mention those who keep company with norbears on a regular basis. Are they intelligent or are they not? Are they capable of turning a man against himself and all that he formerly believed, by twisting his emotions into knots? Might as well add your question to the list.”

  Joyita glanced down, as if he were consulting a screen, then looked back to Clarence, brown eyes slightly narrowed.

  “I learn from my research that norbears are . . . empaths.”

  “Oh, that nearly everybody agrees with! Which is why, you understand, there’s some who want to eradicate the species, before they control us all.”

  Joyita frowned. “Can they control us all?”

  “Well, now, that’s a question, too, isn’t it? My view is, even if they can, they won’t. Far too sleepy.”

  “They’re . . . pets, then, these norbears.”

  Clarence tipped his head, considering that.

  “Companions, say rather, laddie. There aren’t many households’ll have a norbear just to have one, like you might have yourself a cat or six. Larger ships might carry a norbear ’mong the ship’s company, to help calm crew, or ease a bad case of homesickness. Somebody like your Guild Master, now, he’d depend on his norbear to screen pilots for emotional stability. That’s a fairly important job, I’d say.”

  Joyita appeared to be thinking, looking off into the middle distance.

  “Have you been companioned by a norbear?”

  “Me?” Clarence thought of the general tenor of the Boss’ office at Solcintra Port. He’d tried to run a tight organization, and he’d been very careful of loose ends. Still and all, not the general atmosphere that an empath could be supposed to relish.

  “Not me, no, laddie. I’m not a resty fellow.”

  “Is Pilot Theo a resty fellow?”

  Clarence laughed. “Now, there I’d say no. But she’s a busy lass, with a good deal of energy. That might be attractive to an empath.”

  Silence.

  “Did I answer your question, then, Chimmy?” Clarence asked, knowing that he likely hadn’t.

  “You did answer my question, thank you, Clarence. I see that I need to do more research in order to place your answer into context.”

  Well, that would keep him busy, Clarence thought. For all of five Standard minutes.

  “You do that,” he said. “Keep me informed, will you? I’ve an interest in the matter, myself.”

  — • —

  “So,” Kara murmured, “you no longer think that Korval is a story, at least.”

  Theo smiled in the dark, and stroked Kara’s shoulder. Kara didn’t feel tense anymore. Neither did Theo.

  “I learned better,” she agreed.

  “How?” asked Kara.

  “Hmm?”

  Kara poked her side with a sharp finger. “How did you learn better?”

  “Oh, well—it’s complicated, but the high points are that I met the delm of Korval, who are two people, lifemated. And I met Master Trader yos’Galan, and worked out a contract to research a new loop for him.”

  “Those are lucky meetings,” Kara said, sounding drowsy.

  “I’m told that’s how it is, usually, with Korval,” Theo said, settling her cheek against Kara’s hair.

  “Mmm . . .” her friend said. She didn’t say anything else, her breathing slowing into the rhythm of sleep.

  The sound of Kara sleeping was as relaxing and fulfilling as Hevelin’s hums. Theo smiled, closed her eyes.

  And followed Kara into sleep.

  THIRTY

  Velaskiz Rotundo

  As it happened, there was room for Bechimo at the Guild Yard, so Clarence didn’t need to call in favors from his friend, after all.

  Theo—who, on reflection, had come to the uneasy conclusion that Clarence’s “friend” was very likely the Juntavas Boss of Velaskiz Rotundo—thought with relief that leaving that marker lie was probably best for everyone concerned.

  “Do you have time for a private talk, Pilot?” she asked, after the boards had been locked down and Joyita had opened up a comm line for Guild Master Peltzer to Guild Sector Headquarters.

  Clarence gave her a bland look out of the sides of his eyes.

  “That would be pleasant,” he said in Liaden.

  Theo grinned, hearing the tiny twist of sarcasm.

  “Well, it doesn’t have to be unpleasant,” she said, in Terran. “I need your input.” Her fingers obligingly added, crew business.

  Clarence’s eyebrows rose. He spun his chair so that he faced her, and gave her a nod, fingers elucidating, all attention here now.

  Theo nodded and looked to Screen Six. “Joyita.”

  “Pilot Theo?”

  “Second Board and I need some private space here. Can you take a tea break?”

  “Certainly, Pilot.”

  “Thank you.”

  Screen Six went blank.

  Theo nodded, and looked to Clarence.

  “It won’t come as a surprise to you, I guess, that I’m thinking of adding Kara ven’Arith to the ship’s complement. I’d like to know what you think—I especially want to know if you think you can work with her.”

  “No surprises, you’re right there, Pilot. Now, what I think is that Pilot ven’Arith—assuming she’s at liberty—would be a good addition to the crew. I’ll grant she’s got some things to learn—and so will she. No false pride and no overreaching. Wants to learn, asks permission to shadow the pilots . . .” He paused and looked up to the ceiling, fingers shaping, all good.

  “The other plus is that she’s been actively working at the tech side, which neither one of us has. Could teach us some things, I’m thinking—which isn’t a bad thing. Might be she could give Bechimo a hand with those couple little chores he has on the list.”

  Theo laughed. “Maybe she could. Kara once told me that her first toy was a power screwdriver, and that she worked on her first repair when she was six.”

  “Not exaggerating, either, I’d bet.” He frowned slightly at the ceiling before bringing his gaze down to meet Theo’s.

  “Now that last question—can I work with her? That’s an important question and I want to thank you for asking it.

  “Pilot ven’Arith’s shadowed me a couple times, like you know, asking permission, everything polite and proper. She’s honest, I think, and eager. I can work with her.”

  Theo felt a knot in her chest that she hadn’t known was there come loose. She smiled.

  “On the downside,” Clarence said.

  Theo went very still.

  He grinned at her. “We’re going to have a lot of teaching to do. Now, I always heard that the best way to reinforce what you know is to teach it to somebody else.”

  “That’s true,” Theo told him seriously. “Both Kamele and Father said they hoped their students learned as much from them as they learned from their students.”

  He nodded. “There you are then. I think it would be a good move, for the ship, for the pilots, and maybe even for Pilot ven’Arith.”

  “Thank you,” Theo said. “I appreciate your input and your honesty. Now, if you could take a tea break . . .”

  “I am a thought dry.” He got up and departed, the hatch closing behind him jauntily.

  Theo spun back to face board and screens. Peltzer’s comm line was still lit, all else on sleep.

  “Joyita,” Theo said. “May I have your attention?”

  Screen Six flickered and cleared. Joyita looked at her expectantly. “Pilot Theo?”

  She considered him. Somewhat to her own surprise, she’d gotten . . . accustomed to him on the same level that she was accustomed to Clarence—as another presence in the Heart. A comrade.

  “Joyita, I’m thinking of adding Kara ven’Arith to our crew, as third pilot and c
hief tech. May I have your opinion? Do you have objections?”

  Joyita frowned slightly, which he did when he was thinking. Theo sat back and waited.

  “Pilot ven’Arith is a Second Class Pilot,” he said slowly. “She will need flight time and instruction.”

  He made direct eye contact. Theo inclined her head.

  “Go on, please.”

  “Yes. You have, I see, researched her employment history, and her Guild record. I assume that these were satisfactory. My own search reveals no outstanding warrants or record of wrongdoing.”

  Again, he paused, and again Theo nodded, her ears a little warm. She had checked Kara’s records; it was her responsibility as First Board and Acting Captain, even if she didn’t have Clarence’s example of what could happen if you hired a friend without doing a proper check.

  So, she’d done it, and she knew it was the right thing to do.

  But it had still felt like . . . snooping. Like she somehow didn’t trust Kara.

  “Yes. Pilot ven’Arith’s tech skills would be of use in maintaining and retrofitting the ship. She is well-liked by Hevelin . . .”

  “Hold, please.” Theo sat up. “Is that a qualification? Being well-liked by Hevelin? Hevelin likes lots of people.”

  “But I understand that Hevelin doesn’t like all people,” Joyita said earnestly. “He is an empath, and Guild Master Peltzer relies on him to point out unstable individuals.”

  “And he hasn’t indicated that Kara’s unstable. Fair enough. More?”

  “Clarence also likes her, and I think that Clarence is in general a good judge of character.” He paused, raised a hand and seemed to be studying the rings binding his thumb, first and second fingers.

  “Also, I like her. I think Pilot ven’Arith would be a good addition to the ship’s company.”

  “Just for the record, I like her, too,” Theo said drily. “Anything else? Objections?”

  “No objections, Pilot.”

  “She’ll have to meet Bechimo,” Theo pointed out.

  “Yes.” He looked up from the study of his rings to meet her eyes. “Do you anticipate a problem? Bechimo is eager to make her acquaintance.”

  “Is he? That’s good. The next time you . . . communicate with Bechimo, please tell him that I know this transporting of . . . non-crew has been a challenge to his patience, and that I appreciate his decorum.”

  “Bechimo is still present, Pilot, and he has heard you himself.”

  Theo felt the blush warm her cheeks. Of course Bechimo was still present, and listening to everything that went on aboard. But this other thing—

  “Kara might be shocked a little, at first, but I think that’ll pass quickly. When we were studying the Complex Logic Laws in school, she told me that she hoped there were some self-aware logics, somewhere, who had managed to hide themselves and to go about their lives.”

  Joyita grinned, and Theo grinned back.

  “All right, I think we have agreement among existing crew. I’ll make the offer and we’ll see if the pilot’s at liberty.”

  * * *

  Kara was in the norbear room, kneeling next to the greenery, Podesta cradled in the crook of her arm like a child. For once the young norbear wasn’t being raucous and demanding. In fact, she seemed subdued.

  Kara didn’t look up when the hatch cycled. She didn’t look up when Theo knelt beside her, tipping her head in an attempt to get a look at her friend’s hidden face.

  “Kara?”

  There was a long pause, as if Kara were trying to come up with a credible reason not to be Kara. Podesta reached up from her recline in Kara’s arm, and gently caught some long strands of red-gold hair.

  “Theo,” Kara said then, her voice husky. “You find me disadvantaged.”

  That meant “go away” when rendered in Liaden. Theo chewed her lip, and watched a tear fall onto Podesta’s furry belly.

  “How can there be advantage or disadvantage between us?” Theo asked in Liaden, in what she hoped was the mode between intimates. “I do not allow it. Indeed, it is I who would stand at disadvantage, if such a thing might exist between us. Forgive me; I see that my timing is awkward, and yet necessity exists . . .”

  Kara raised her head, staring at Theo from wet blue eyes.

  “You’ve been studying!”

  “Yes, I have,” Theo admitted, and let herself slide back into Terran, “much good it’s doing me.”

  “It’s doing you a great deal of good,” Kara said sternly. “You were quite credible. Promise me that you will continue your studies.”

  “Easy to do. I made a deal with Clarence and he won’t let me slack off. But Kara—I do have a question for you. Since I’ve already intruded, may I ask it?”

  Kara half-laughed and sniffed.

  “Excellent! She uses bad timing to excuse bad manners and asks to be allowed to behave more badly, since she has been discourteous already.”

  Theo blinked. Put that way . . .

  “No, no, Theo. It’s a joke,” Kara told her. “Please, ask your question.”

  She took a deep breath. Inner calm, she told herself. What she wanted to do was to take Kara’s hand in hers, but that would be the wrong melant’i for this. She was here, not as Kara’s friend, but as a potential employer. It was important to preserve distance.

  “I would like to know if you are at liberty to accept a position as third pilot and chief technician on Bechimo,” she said, her voice sounding rushed in her own ears.

  Kara’s mouth dropped open.

  Podesta squeaked and squirmed, struggling to get to her feet. Theo grabbed her before she could fall and put her on the floor between her knees and Kara’s.

  “May I inquire into the reasons for this offer?” Kara’s voice wasn’t exactly steady, but Theo didn’t think she was mad.

  “It’s pretty straightforward,” she said calmly. “We’re doing a shakedown run, like I told you, and one of the things that Clarence and I have discovered is that we need more crew. Especially, we need a tech, and a third-relief pilot would be nice, too. And here you are, who are both! I polled the crew, and we all agreed. So, I’m asking if you’re at liberty. If you’ve got something else, I understand. Any ship who gets you will be fortunate.”

  Two tears formed in Kara’s eyes, and rolled down her cheek.

  “Gods, I’m a watering pot today!” she cried, and reached into a leg pocket for a handkerchief. “Forgive me, Theo.”

  She wiped her face, and sat holding the handkerchief in her hand, eyes closed while she did some meditation, or only breathed, slow and sure.

  Theo waited, laughed softly as Podesta scaled her knees and stood on her thigh, with one paw hitched through Theo’s belt.

  “That’s pretty good,” she said, and rubbed the norbear behind her ears.

  “I do not have anything else,” Kara said, opening her eyes. “And I will be delighted to sign on to Bechimo as chief tech and relief pilot.”

  Theo grinned, happiness buoying her. Podesta murbled and butted her head hard against Theo’s fingers, which had unfortunately stopped massaging her ears.

  “All right, then. Let’s go down to the Guild Hall and do this thing.”

  — • —

  It had been anticipated that Mildred Bilinoda would name names and pinpoint locations. As her nature was both inquisitive and acquisitive, it was to be supposed that her hoard of information was considerable.

  Certainly, as far as Uncle and his various business interests were concerned, it would be foolhardy to assume otherwise.

  The word hide had gone out among the third tier—those whom Uncle found useful to his business dealings, but who were not an essential part of the network. Take and question them all, and someone with fortune and insight might, indeed, piece together the idea that there was a network, while failing to gather enough hard data to deduce its location, purpose, and members.

  While some of the third tier had surely made it to at least a kind of safety, others had or would certainly fal
l into the net of this newly aggressive foe. Which meant that various items of what the Scouts termed Old Tech, or Befores, had come into the keeping of those who were both ambitious and ignorant.

  This was unsatisfactory in the extreme. The Scouts were annoyance enough, in their insistence of collecting every bit of Old Tech and warehousing it. Warehouses, after all, could be raided, if necessary.

  These others, though—this Department of the Interior. They wished to have the galaxy under their control, and they saw in the works of the Oldest Enemy the means to bring their ambition to fruition.

  He strongly suspected that it had been agents of the Department of the Interior whose attempted subversion of Pod 78 had brought Daav yos’Phelium to Moonstruck, to meet his doom. Though, perhaps, Uncle thought now, shuffling through incoming reports, they had merely meant to bring him away as a hostage, drain him of all he knew . . .

  . . . and return him to Korval, as a poison tooth.

  That disaster at least had been averted, though Uncle remained doubtful that Korval would be perfectly pleased with his own solving regarding their clan elder.

  “Yuri.”

  Dulsey walked to his desk. She looked . . . distressed, he thought. And she had used his name, which she did so . . . very seldom.

  “Have we a disaster in hand, my child?”

  “Very nearly,” she answered seriously. “Andreth found signs of surveillance at Catalinc.”

  His blood ran cold.

  “Surveillance?” he asked, forcing his voice into a pleasant and interested tone.

  She nodded once, sharply.

  “Alerted, he kept watch, and so was on hand with several others of his team when the attempt was made to go in. They captured two. One is still alive; the other was downloaded.”

  For a moment, he only looked at her. Two—two individuals had very nearly gotten to Catalinc. That . . . would have been . . .

  “Disastrous” didn’t begin to cover it.

  Andreth had taken the individuals and held the whole of one and the intelligence of the other. Andreth was to be . . . commended. To have taken the interlopers and preserved them for questioning was well done.

  That there should have been whispers about the Catalinc project loud enough to reach the ears of those outside the network . . . but always, there were whispers; it only mattered if they were heeded. If the whispers were strange enough, or the project too bold, it often came about that the whispers were . . . discounted. But secrecy? There was no true secrecy . . . anywhere.