“We were on our way to the bridge. I merely overheard one sentence of extremely good sense, nothing more, I assure you.” Rafe gave them both a smile of blinding goodwill. “Stella, you are a genius in your way, but your cousin Ky has won my fickle heart . . .”
“The reverse, however, is not true,” Ky said.
“Of course,” Rafe said. “I would not expect it. I look forward, Captain, to our discussion of partnerships when the time comes.” He turned to Jim. “The bridge, perhaps? And perhaps we should close the hatch, to allow the captain more privacy?”
“Thank you,” Ky said. On the bridge he would find Lee less malleable than Jim. When they were alone again, she said to Stella, “So tell me about Rafe . . . everything you know.”
“Everything I thought I knew,” Stella said. “I certainly did not know he was Dunbarger’s son. If he is. Though that explains a lot.”
Stella took a deep breath. “It was after that disastrous mess with Jamar, the one I gave the codes to. I’d been stuck at home for months, of course, lectured at by everyone over the age of ten. Stupid Stella, idiot Stella, how could you Stella, didn’t we tell you Stella, and so on and so on. Of course, I was telling myself the same thing. Then Aunt Gracie showed up, shooed everyone away, told me to quit moping and get a hold on myself, and sent me to an old friend of hers over on Cassagar. Find out what you’re good at, Gracie said, because you are a Vatta and therefore you have talents besides looking pretty and attracting bad men.”
“Sounds like Aunt Gracie,” Ky said, hoping Stella would quit telling her story and get back to Rafe.
“Yes, well, her old friend Halma turned out to be a fellow veteran—that’s when I found out about Aunt Gracie’s own checkered past. I got a fast course in courier protocols and she sent me off to another friend, halfway around the planet. Apparently I did all right, because that one sent me back with a good report. I thought it was all great fun—you had to follow the rules to the letter, of course, but it was the kind of challenge I like, blending in and being someone else, or at least being the foolish, stupid Stella on the outside while being a competent Stella on the inside. If you can follow that.”
“Yes,” Ky said, “I can.” Especially after seeing those lightning changes of expression and character.
“Well, I was on another job for Aunt Gracie’s old friend, at an embassy party on Cassagar, when I met Rafe. He recognized that I was trolling for information just as I recognized he was the same, and he called me on it. I didn’t know what to do—it was my first political assignment—so I fell back on girlish giggles and sex appeal, and he wasn’t having it. I’m still not sure exactly how it happened, but the next thing I knew he was teaching me to use his picklocks—which is a very useful skill, and I still use the set he gave me—and not too long after that I realized he was the sexiest man I’d ever met. Jamar wasn’t within six orders of magnitude.” Stella grinned and shook her head. Ky thought of Hal, but shied away from that memory.
Stella went on. “Also the most dangerous. Also someone with contacts I’d never even imagined existed . . . he seemed to have a finger in every clandestine organization on Cassagar. His story then was that he’d worked his way up from a state orphanage to a private investigator’s license, learning formal etiquette from training tapes, but we both understood that considerable dubious actions were involved. We worked together briefly, then I went back home to Slotter Key to be debriefed by Aunt Gracie. After which she and my father employed my skills at intervals.”
“I see. So . . . do you consider Rafe trustworthy?”
“Before the latest revelations, I would have said that Rafe stays bought if you pay his asking price, and that he’s reliable in partnership agreements. After all, I turned my back on him this time. But I’m not sure now . . . if he’s really Dunbarger’s son, and really a permanent ISC agent, then he’ll be with us—or anyone he contracts with—only so long as it doesn’t cross ISC.”
“I’m not planning to cross ISC,” Ky said. “And they should be pleased with me, after the Sabine thing. So with those circumstances, what about partnering or hiring Rafe? And which would be better?”
“Partnering,” Stella said. “And yes, I think he’d be a good asset, though . . . though I’m still peeved that he never told me . . .” She cocked her head at Ky. “But what use am I, Ky? What can you do with me?”
“I don’t know yet. We may have use for an agent of our own, when we come to someplace where you aren’t known and won’t be an instant assassin magnet. Meantime, you were home more than I was, the last few years. You may know a lot about recent developments in the company that I didn’t know.”
“And I can scramble eggs,” Stella said, grinning. “I’m not trained for ship’s crew, but some of my skills will transfer.”
“That’s good. Besides, you’re family. And there’s little enough left.” That black weight bore down on her shoulders again; Ky struggled not to break down.
“True,” Stella said. She looked sad. “I don’t—there’s not been time to grieve, really. It all happened so fast. Though at least I had the time on the courier to myself. It must be worse for you, being out of touch when it happened.”
“I don’t know,” Ky said. “It still seems unreal. They’ve always been there . . . parents, aunts, uncles, corporate headquarters, the house. I can almost pretend they’re still there, but you can’t.” And neither could she, for more than moments. She could not make the right decisions if she clung to the wrong data.
“Reality bites,” Stella said. She stretched. “Well. You’ve got Toby settled; that’s a good thing.”
“Unless someone blows this ship,” Ky said soberly. “I do think about that. We should find him a safer place; he’s our future. Stella, do you—does Aunt Grace—have any idea why the government turned on us?”
“She wasn’t sure if someone had outbid us, or scared them silly. When I left she was planning to find out and see if she could correct their thinking, as she put it. I would not like to be the President, with Aunt Grace after him.” Stella drew her finger across her throat.
Ky debated for a moment and took the plunge. “Stella, there’s a very odd thing. Before this happened, someone had sent me a message here to be held for my arrival. I have a letter of marque from Slotter Key—”
“But nobody does that anymore!” Stella said, eyes wide.
“That’s what I thought, but they do, and I have one. Here—” Ky handed Stella the padded folder.
“This is incredible . . . when did you get it? You’re sure it’s official?”
“It came via . . . someone I knew at the Academy. I’m sure of the provenance, but I’m not sure it’s still valid.” Ky took the folder when Stella had finished reading and put it away. “Still, it gives me justifications other than family to go after whoever’s doing this.”
“I never knew Slotter Key ran privateers,” Stella said, shaking her head. “I thought I knew a lot about local politics . . . how did they keep this secret, I wonder.”
“I heard rumors,” Ky said. “I just thought it was vicious slander, but clearly it wasn’t.”
“Privateer,” Stella said. She grinned suddenly. “Valid or not, with the Slotter Key ansibles down, who’s to know?”
“Not Rafe,” Ky said. “I’m not ready to tell him all my secrets. Besides, can you really see this ship attacking and capturing anything? Thing is, even if I were a military genius, I can’t see how to fight a war with one old tub like this one. She’s slow, she’s vulnerable, and she has no teeth.”
“Would money help?” Stella asked. “I’ve got some in the usual hard goods, from Aunt Gracie and my own resources.”
“Money always helps. Enough to buy a real warship would certainly help, but I doubt you’ve brought that much. Upgrading this one—we can get as far as armed merchant vessel, which everyone will assume means pirate, but that’s about it. She’d need a new insystem drive, some decent shielding, and at least one—no, two—decent weapons system
s. It’d cut our cargo capacity thirty percent, and it isn’t that big already.”
“You’ve already thought about it.”
“Of course. I haven’t been twiddling my thumbs. I’ve thought of several things. Running her as a cargo ship, under Vatta colors: likely to get us attacked and blown up entirely too soon. Running her as a cargo ship under other colors—my own, for one—and hoping nobody figures out she’s really Vatta. That would require a new ship chip, of clandestine origin, and time to build up a clientele. The kinds of cargoes you can get in an uninsured, unknown ship are, as you know, minimal. Running her as an armed merchanter, trying to combine light cargo—probably clandestine—with covert attacks on the guilty parties, if we ever figure out who they are. That is dangerous and unlikely to make the kind of profits that will keep us going, unless we take on seriously bad cargo.”
“Seriously bad cargo may lead us to our enemies . . .”
“Yes. It could. Either usefully or right into their trap. You surely know that Vatta corporate accounts are frozen, credit unobtainable right along with insurance for either ship or cargo . . .”
“I didn’t realize accounts would all be frozen; I was able to access funds on Allray.”
“They’re frozen here, and other places I’ve heard of. I’ve sold off the cargo we came in with, and I have a few goodies that Aunt Gracie stuffed into a fruitcake for me, but not enough to buy a new ship or convert this one to armed merchanter.”
“I’ll add mine to the pile and see what it comes to,” Stella said.
“What interests me,” Ky said, “is that you and Rafe seem to have been doing the same thing for different employers. You really didn’t know he was ISC?”
“No. I can’t believe he never told me. And where he came up with that sob story from—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ky said. “How reliable do you think he is, really? How much of that attitude is surface?”
“I would trust him to be who he is,” Stella said, “but I’m not sure any longer who that is. Stick to the terms of a partnership, yes. Actually care about anyone? I’m not sure.”
“We’ve got a tough task ahead, Stella. We can use all the allies we can find, but we need them to be allies. Or at least acting from enlightened self-interest.”
“He’s smart,” Stella said. “I would say his self-interest is paramount, but intelligently adapted to circumstances. Reliable within limits. Within those limits, absolutely.”
“What do you know about his expertise?”
“What you’d expect from someone involved in corporate espionage. There’s not a lock—physical or electronic—that he can’t open, few if any databases are secure if you turn him loose for an hour, and he has a remarkable collection of contacts in multiple systems. If he’s telling the truth about being Dunbarger’s son, then I suspect his actual illicit earnings are much lower than he’s claimed. The opposite of crooks—he’s hiding his legitimate income.”
“Anything more I should know?”
“That personality,” Stella said. “I’m sure you noticed—he’s used to having women fall at his feet.”
“I won’t,” Ky said.
“He hasn’t really turned on the charm yet . . . don’t believe it when he does.”
“Did you?”
“Ouch. Yes, off and on. He still has an effect on me, and I’ve seen him with others.”
“I wouldn’t worry,” Ky said. “Except that from everything you say, Jim and Lee both won’t be able to keep him from snooping all over the ship. It will take Martin.”
“Tell me about Martin. He scared me.”
“Ex-military; he was at the legation on Belinta. And he’s got supply experience, so he took on managing cargo in place of . . . of Gary.”
“Impressive. You find him comfortable, I expect, because of your time in the Academy. Are you going to offer Rafe a partnership?”
“I’m thinking about it. Reservations?”
“No. Not if you’re careful with the terms. Want advice?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
“Then let me review the terms before you offer. Or I can do a draft for you.”
“Do that, Stella. Use my desk, if you’d like.”
“And figure out how to get that implant in and functioning,” Stella added as Ky was on her way out the door. “You’re going to need it.”
On the bridge, Lee had a dazed expression and Jim was scowling. Rafe, in Ky’s seat, lounged as if he owned the ship.
“Excuse me,” Ky said, with an edge to it. “That’s my seat.”
“Sorry,” Rafe said. “Where do you want me?”
Under control, but that wasn’t something she could say. “There’s a fold-down seat over there.” She pointed. “Lee, anybody offship?”
“No.”
“Good. Nobody goes off until tradeshift tomorrow. Division reports?”
“At your station, Captain. Nothing much; we’re down to the dregs for trade, though. MilMart’s holding that advanced suite for us, but they’ll require a deposit to hold it past the end of tradeshift tomorrow.”
“By then I’ll have an answer for them.” Ky looked at the division reports. Quincy’s had the most data. She had listed all the suitable ships for sale or lease, with costs including provisioning.
“Who’s doing your dockside security?” Rafe asked, breaking her concentration.
“We are,” Ky said. “Remotely.”
“What system?” he asked. “I’m not just being nosy; I’m remembering that a Vatta ship in dock at Allray was blown.”
“You know how it was done?”
“No. Outsiders, is what I heard, but I’m not entirely sure—it’s one reason I wanted to leave. But remote systems can be . . . confused.”
“Co-opted, you mean,” Ky said. “We have mil-grade systems, installed by my own crew, as of two days ago. Does that satisfy you?”
“Almost,” Rafe said. “Perimeter design?”
“Adequate,” Ky said, “according to what I was taught. Do you have suggestions, Ser . . . Dunbarger?”
“Please don’t use that name. Not even here. I’m sure your crew are all perfectly loyal—” Rafe shot a sidelong look at Lee, who looked studiously blank. “—but it would be a great embarrassment to me. Besides, it’s not euphonious.”
“Vatta is not exactly music of the spheres,” Ky said.
“It has a certain earthy rhythmicity,” Rafe said. “Dunbarger, on the other hand, sounds like something you’d remove during plastic surgery. Call me by the name Stella knows, or Murchison, which I used last. Or you could just call me Rafe.”
“And you could,” suggested Ky, “just answer my question. Have you suggestions for perimeter design?”
“Three independent systems, optical spider hooks set at one-meter intervals, each system capable of alarming the others, but not of damping an alarm. Broadband scanning, full chem and bio suites, a watch officer who knows how to interpret the output. Independent power sources, of course, and secure lines . . .”
“I think you would find my perimeter design adequate,” Ky said. “That’s pretty much what I’ve got. Anything else?”
“Anti-tamper?”
“Of course.”
“I didn’t see it when we came in,” Rafe said.
“You weren’t supposed to,” Ky said. “But it’s there. And we also have hull-based systems active. Our shields stink, but at least we’ll know what hits us.”
“I begin to hope you will offer me a partnership, Captain Vatta.”
“I begin to think I might. But we have business to discuss. Perhaps you will return with me to the rec area?”
“Of course,” he said.
“Jim, check with Sera Vatta in my cabin and see if she needs you for anything. Consider yourself at her disposal.”
“Is that wise?” murmured Rafe, following Ky down the passage.
“Jim will do adequately,” Ky said. “And Stella has better taste.” She waited to see what he would answer,
and when he didn’t she added, “She found you, for instance.”
His brows went up. “A compliment?”
“Recognition of reality. Don’t preen.”
“I never preen . . . well, I suppose I do, but only for cause. So, Captain, what shall we discuss?”
“Your potential contribution to my mission,” Ky said.
“I would have to know what it is, to know what I might be able to contribute.”
“To survive, first. To assist other Vatta ships and family members, like Toby, when found. To discover who our enemy is, and why they attacked us. And then to destroy them.”
The brows went higher. “That’s a substantial mission for one person and one—forgive me for being blunt—small, old, and apparently slow ship.”
“Precisely why I’m seeking allies,” Ky said. “I’m not crazy enough to think I can do it all alone. You claim to have expertise relative to ISC’s current problems, which I cannot but think are related to ours.”
“I think you’re right on that,” Rafe said, with perfect seriousness. “When do you think it started?”
“I know when I hope it didn’t start,” Ky said. “And that’s when I got involved with that attack on the ansibles at Sabine. I think it possible that the organization, whatever it was, that planned that attack was sufficiently annoyed with my interference that it retaliated against my family.”
“I can relieve your mind on that,” Rafe said. “Your actions would be seen as typical of Vatta, and Vatta had already been perceived as entirely too close to the ruling cliques at ISC. Your high officers, for instance, were close to Lew Parmina . . .”
“Yes.”
“Lew is my father’s choice for a corporate heir. He has many enemies inside the corporation, and outside as well. He’s old-line ISC, very much in favor of the status quo. The innovators hate him.”
“Innovators.” Ky had no idea what he was talking about.
“Look, Captain, I’ll be as honest with you as my other loyalties permit. More honest than I’ve been with Stella—you have my birth name, for instance. ISC has major internal problems. I can’t tell you all about them. Some I don’t know, and those I know I must not tell. But I’ve been warning my father for three years that something was going to blow loose. I guessed wrong about where—I thought it would be Allray, not Sabine, and that’s why I set up there two years ago. I was trying to get some hard data on who, and how, and when. This secondary attack on the ansible network, knocking them all out—”
Marque and Reprisal Page 20