by Timothy Zahn
"Well... sure," he said, throwing a puzzled look at the rest of us on the couch.
"Jake?"
"Captain Smith wanted more than his assistance was worth," Chen said. "He demanded ten million neumarks; I could only offer five."
She looked at me as if daring me to contradict her. But though her eyes were on me, her gun was pointed at Rhonda. I held her gaze, and kept my mouth shut.
Bilko snorted derisively. "Five million neumarks not good enough, huh? Well, that's management for you. OK, Ms. Chen, you've got yourself a deal. What do you need me to do?"
"I need you to plot us a course from here back to Angorki," she said. "Can you do it?" "Sure—no sweat," he said, glancing around and starting toward the desk. "I just need a computer—there must be one back here somewhere."
And across at Peter's end of the couch, Suzenne suddenly inhaled sharply.
Chen heard her, too. "Just a minute," she snapped, throwing a suspicious glare at Suzenne. "What was that all about?"
Suzenne seemed to shrink back into the cushions. "What was what?"
"What's over there at the desk?" Chen demanded.
"Nothing," Suzenne said guardedly. "What could be there?"
"Yeah, what could be there?" Bilko agreed, taking another step toward the desk.
"Computer's probably in one of these drawers, right?"
"Get away from there," Chen said sharply, spinning back to face him. "I said get away."
"Sure, OK," Bilko said, taking a hasty step back and holding up both hands.
"What's the problem?"
"Maybe you're a little too cooperative." Chen threw me a hard look. "And maybe there was more to Smith's private joke than he let on. Move away—I'll find the computer."
"Whatever you say," Bilko shrugged, taking another step back. Chen circled around behind the desk, clearly trying to watch all of us at once. She pulled the desk chair out and half stooped to pull open one of the drawers—
The thick glass panels were so perfectly transparent and moved so fast that they were almost impossible to see. But there was no missing the sudden thundercrack as they slammed out of disguised cracks in the floor and thudded solidly against the ceiling, sealing the desk and the area around it into its own isolated space.
Chen's curse—I assume she cursed—was lost in the echo of that boom, as was the sound of her shot. She ducked reflexively back as the needles ricocheted from the barrier; and then the guard who'd come through the doorway that had magically appeared in the wall behind the desk was on her, the momentum of his diving tackle slamming her hard against the glass. By the time the second and third guards made it through the door, she had run out of fight.
"Don't hurt her," Peter called. We were all on our feet now, though I personally couldn't recall having stood up. "Take her to a holding cell."
"Make sure you search her first," Suzenne added. "Thoroughly."
They hustled her out through the hidden door, and Peter turned back to me.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "However you did it, we're in your debt."
"No problem," Bilko assured him, coming up to join us. "When Jake says to whistle up the cops, I whistle up the cops." He looked back toward the desk, watching as the glass panels receded back into the floor. "Now that it's over, can someone tell me what I just blew five million neumarks over?"
"The biggest attempted hijacking in history," I said, looking at Peter. "And unfortunately, it's not over yet."
"You really think her people will be coming to look for her?" Suzenne asked.
"It's worse than that," I said grimly. "The implication she's out here alone is nonsense—no Chen-Mellis second cousin would be stupid or reckless enough to come out here without backup already on its way. My guess is we've got maybe two or three days before they get here. Maybe less."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Bilko cut in. "If they're that close, why didn't she just wait for them in the first place? Why bother coming in with us?"
"Because there are other people looking for the Freedom's Peace," I told him.
"And the first one to get here is going to be the one with salvage rights claim.
Odds are that those loudspeakers she scattered around the colony really are also recorders, just like she said, so that she'll have a record of her presence here."
"But then why didn't she wait for her people to arrive before revealing herself to us?" Peter asked, clearly confused. "Why risk tipping us off the way she did?"
"Pure arrogance," Rhonda suggested. "She wanted to deliver you personally to the backup team."
"Or else she wanted to be the one who got the flapblacks to get you moving,"
Bilko put in. "Maybe there's even some rivalry between her and the backup team—the Ten Families are supposed to be riddled with upper-level infighting.
If she got the Freedom's Peace back to Angorki on her own, she'd look that much better."
"The reasons and motivations don't matter," I interrupted the budding debate.
"The bottom line is that we've got trouble on the way."
"I can't allow my people to be forced into servitude, Captain," Peter said softly, the lines in his face deepening. "If it comes to that choice, we will fight."
"Let's see if we can't find a third choice," I said. "Tell me about those flapblacks that surround the colony, the ones who chase away the others. What are they, predators of some kind?"
Peter smiled sadly. "Hardly. They're merely the eldest of the Star Spirits.
The ones marking their last few weeks as they wait for death."
An unpleasant shiver ran up my back. I knew all creatures died, of course, and in fact we'd had that argument on the way in over whether our wrapping flapblacks were getting eaten. But somehow the thought of a group of aging flapblacks hovering together waiting quietly to die was more disturbing than I
would have expected it to be. Perhaps it took some of the magic away, or perhaps it felt too much like the death of a favorite pet.
"Like all Star Spirits, they enjoy music," Peter continued quietly. "But of a particular kind, the kind only we apparently know how to write for them.
That's what the music in the colony is for."
Abruptly, Suzenne looked at me and smiled. "One of them remembers you, Captain.
He says he carried you once a long time ago."
A second chill ran through me. "They get into our minds?" I asked carefully.
"Not just the musicmaster's, I mean, but all the rest of us, too?"
"No, they can't read minds, Captain," Peter assured me. "Not even ours, and we're as attuned to them as any humans have ever been. No, they simply recognize you by the shape of your minds, just as you recognize them by the spectra of their passing." "I see," I murmured. Like a favorite pet, I'd just thought. Only which of us was the pet? "So why do they drive the other flapblacks away?"
"They don't," Suzenne said. "The others stay away out of respect for the dying."
I scratched my cheek. Bits and pieces of a nebulous plan were starting to swirl together in my brain. "Does that mean that if you asked them to move aside for awhile and let the younger ones in, they would do it?"
Peter shook his head. "I know what you're thinking, my friend. But it won't work."
"Well, I don't know what he's thinking," Jimmy spoke up.
"It's simple, Jimmy," I told him. "Cousin Chen went to a lot of trouble to scatter all those loudspeakers around the colony. I think it would be a shame to waste all that effort."
"But it won't work," Peter repeated. "We've talked with the Star Spirits about this. They simply aren't strong enough to carry the Freedom's Peace."
"Maybe," I said. "Maybe not. You say you've talked to them; but you didn't say you've played music for them."
"Are you suggesting we force them to carry us?" Suzenne demanded, an ominous glint in her eye.
"It's not a matter of forcing," I said. "They enjoy the music—you know that as well as we do. I think it acts like a stimulant to them."
"So now you're suggesting we effectively drug them—"
"Excuse me," Rhonda put in gently. "Your Highness, how long have you been providing music for the dying flapblacks to listen to?"
"Quite a few years," Peter said, frowning. "All of my lifetime, certainly."
"And how often during those years have you had a younger flapblack carry any of you anywhere?"
He shrugged. "Three or four times, perhaps. But those were only our small scout ships. Not nearly as big even as your transport."
"Then perhaps that's the real problem," Rhonda said. "You can talk to the flapblacks, but your perception of them has been skewed by the fact that most of the time you're talking to the old and dying, not the young and healthy."
"You talked about whale and dolphins earlier," I put in. "I suggest a better analogy might be dogs."
"Dogs?" Peter asked.
"Yes." I waved a hand around. "You've been surrounded for decades by aging, crippled Chihuahuas. That's not what most of the flapblacks are like."
"And what are they like?"
"Big, exuberant malamutes," I told him. "And with all due respect, your people may understand them, but we know how to make them run."
For a moment there was silence. Then, with a sigh, Peter nodded. "I'm still not convinced," he said. "But you're right, it has to be tried."
"Thank you." I turned to Jimmy. "Go take a look at that player interface of Chen's and see what kind of music she's got programmed onto it. Then get in touch with that musician you were visiting this morning and have him whistle up the colony's whole music contingent.
"We're going to have ourselves a concert." The Grand Center of the Arts was considerably smaller than I would have expected for a place with such an impressive title, though considering the colony's limited populace I suppose its size made sense. The main auditorium was compact but with a feeling of spaciousness to it and a main floor that would supposedly seat two thousand people.
We were only going to need a fraction of that capacity tonight. Gathered together by the front of the stage were Jimmy and the sixty-eight colonists he'd been able to sift through his impromptu musicmaster screening test in the past six hours. Above them in the balcony, I waited with Peter and eighty hand-picked colonists who were considered especially in tune with the flapblacks. Star Spirits. Whatever.
A motion down at the stage caught my eye: Jimmy, his final instructions completed, was giving me the high sign. I waved acknowledgement and keyed the radio link Suzenne had set up to the Sergei Rock in its hangar slot. "Bilko?
Looks like we're about ready here. You all set?"
"Roger that," he confirmed. "Inertial's all calibrated and warmed up. If you get this chunk of rock moving, we'll know it."
"Okay," I said. "Stand ready."
I stepped over to Peter, standing alone at the balcony rail gazing down at the musicians gathered below. "We're all ready, sir," I said. "You can give the order any time."
He smiled faintly, a smile that didn't touch his eyes. "You give the order, Captain. It's your show."
I shook my head. "It may be my show. But it's your world."
His smile became something almost sad as he turned to face the others on the balcony. "Your attention, please," he said. "We're ready. Tell the Ancients it's time, and ask them to move away from the colony."
For a long moment there was silence. Then Peter turned back to me and nodded.
"It's all clear," he said. "They may begin."
I looked down at Jimmy and raised my hand. He nodded and fiddled with something on Chen's player interface; and faintly from the tiles beneath my feet I heard the drone of the C-sharp pre-music call. A few seconds later the tone was replaced by the opening brass fanfare of the first movement of Tchaikovsky's Fourth Symphony.
I waited a few bars, then keyed my radio link. "Bilko?"
"Yeah, I can hear the music," he said. "I had a flapblack shoot past, I think, but so far—wait a second. I thought the inertial... yeah. Yeah, we're off.
Moving in fits and starts, but we are moving."
"What do you mean, fits and starts?" I asked frowning. "Aren't they getting a good wrap?"
"When they've got the wrap, they seem to have it pretty solid," Bilko said.
"They just keep losing it, that's all. Either they keep unwrapping because Jimmy's people aren't very good at this, or else we're just too big to lug very far at a time."
"I can understand that," I said. "I've done my share of helping friends move across town." "Yeah, me too," Bilko said. "And you have to admit this place is the ultimate five-section couch."
"True," I said. "But we're putting some distance between us and Chen's coordinates, and that's the important thing."
"Right," Bilko agreed. "We can sort out the details later. How long are you planning to run?"
I looked down at Jimmy's people, hunkered down and visibly concentrating on the music. "Just the first movement, I think," I told him. "Eighteen and a half minutes should be plenty for this first test."
"Sounds good. Let me know when to shut down the recorders."
"Sure."
I keyed off and looked around for Peter. He had moved off to an unoccupied part of the balcony while I was talking to Bilko and was again standing alone gazing down at Jimmy's people. Avoiding the small clumps of quietly conversing colonists that had formed around us, I crossed to his side. "It seems to be working, Your Highness," I told him. "A little slow, but we're making progress."
"I'm glad to hear it," he murmured, his eyes still on the musicians. "I wish I
could say I was grateful for your help, Captain. Unfortunately, I can't."
I nodded. "I understand."
He gave me an odd look. "Do you? Do you really?"
"I think so," I said. "Up until a few minutes ago you had no decisions to make about the life of your people. You were sealed inside the Freedom's Peace, stuck in the empty space between stars, with nowhere else to go even if you'd wanted to."
I turned away from his eyes to look down at Jimmy. "But all that's changed now.
Suddenly the whole galaxy is open to you... and you're going to have to decide whether you're willing to take the risks and challenges of finding and colonizing a new world for yourselves as your designers intended, or stay all nice and comfortable in here."
"We've always known that decision would eventually have to be made," Peter said quietly. "But until that first transport arrived it was something we expected the people ten generations down the line to have to deal with. I'm not at all sure my people are ready for this. Not sure I'm ready for it."
"I doubt King Peter the Tenth would have felt any more ready than you do," I said. "For whatever that's worth."
"To be honest, not very much," Peter conceded. "I'm very much afraid the colony is going to split, and split violently, over the decision."
He straightened up. "Still, humanity has been dealing with violent disagreements for a very long time now, and we've certainly had our fair share of lesser controversies aboard the Freedom's Peace. Hopefully, we'll find our way through this one, too."
"And remember that it'll be you who make the decision, not someone from the Chen-Mellis family," I reminded him. "That's worth something right there."
"Yes." He eyed me. "Which brings up the question of what we do with her."
"You can't keep her here," I said. "Not unless you keep us here with her.
She's sure to have left a complete data trail for her backup and the rest of the family to follow, including her plan to come aboard the Sergei Rock. If we show up anywhere in the Expansion without her, our necks will be for the high wire."
"The problem is that you're not going to do much better if you do show up with her," Peter pointed out darkly. "She's a highly vindictive person, my friend, and you've not only robbed her of a great prize but humiliated her in front of other people. At the very least, she'll make sure you go to prison; at the worst, she might conceivably have you murdered."
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p; I shook my head. "She won't have any of us murdered," I told him. "If she'd brought back the Freedom's Peace I have no doubt the Chen-Mellis family would have given her cover for any illegal act she'd done along the way. But she has no prize now, and none of the Ten Families support unnecessary and unprofitable violence by one of its members. Aside from the bad publicity involved, it leaves them wide open to blackmail from the other families."
"Perhaps," Peter said, not sounding convinced. "You know Expansion politics better than I do. Might she still do something against you on her own, though, without family support or knowledge?"
"That's possible," I said. "The trick is going to be to persuade her that she personally will suffer greatly if she tries anything."
Peter shook his head. "I don't know. I've met people like Miss Chen, and I suspect her pride would outweigh even threats against her life."
"Probably," I said. "But I think there are things a person like Chen would value more even than her life."
Peter regarded me thoughtfully. "That sounds like you have an idea."
I shrugged. "An idea, yes. But the execution of it is going to depend solely on you and your powers of persuasion."
Peter lifted his eyebrows. "I doubt seriously my powers are strong enough to persuade Miss Chen of anything."
"Actually, that's not who you have to persuade," I told him. "Here's what I have in mind..." We convened in Peter's office in front of the throne—a more impressive locale, Peter had decided, from which to deliver his pronouncements than anywhere else in the colony.
If either of us was expecting Chen to have been subdued by her two days of confinement, we were disappointed. She stood stiff and erect in the drab prison clothing they'd given her, her head held high and her eyes smoldering with hidden fire. Proud, confident, and defiant; and if this didn't work, I was definitely going to be in for some big trouble down the line.
"So you've come to your senses after all," she said to Peter. "A wise move.
My people will be coming back here regardless, of course; but if they'd had to come for the purpose of rescuing a kidnapped family member there would have been far less of this place left afterward for you to bargain with." "I'm afraid you misunderstand, Miss Chen," Peter said. "You're not being released because I'm worried about reprisals from your family. You're being released because you and your family are no longer a threat to us."