“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.” I sounded defiant. Well, so be it. “We decided it was a risk we’d take together. I have a right to count on you.” I couldn’t imagine speaking to Dad so, but if I didn’t set things straight with Fath, Lord knew where it would lead us. Still, I wished it weren’t in front of Tad and Mr Janks.
“Our friend can’t wait.” Fath strode toward section six; to enter four without dismantling our transplex barrier, he’d have to walk the entire length of the circular corridor. “We’ll discuss it later.”
“Now’s better.” I pushed back my chair, ran after.
“As Captain, I order you—”
“If I touch you, will I be hanged?” Uninvited contact from a crewman was a capital offense.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You’re my son.”
“That’s why I’m coming with you.” I matched his stride.
It was a long walk. When we were there, he said, “Put on a suit.”
“When you do, sir.”
His tone had an edge. “Understand, you’ll be punished.”
“I expect it.” And it was true. Part of me even welcomed it. I was insolent beyond all expectation, and on one level, it was wrong. But I’d already lost Dad, and I had no intention of losing Fath.
At the hatch, he handed me his pistol.
I said, “I thought you wouldn’t trust me with it.”
“I thought so too. But I don’t want you killed.”
We went in.
The alien had reconstituted to a degree, but when we approached, it puddled.
Fath sat alongside, stood, slapped the bulkhead to get the outrider’s attention.
The outrider reconstituted.
I said, “Ask him if he’s the same one.”
“How?”
“Draw … may I? Jess, draw an outrider, then—”
“Officers’ commands are valid. Nonofficers may only direct a puter by authority of—”
“Jess, this is the Captain. Draw what he asks.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
I took a deep breath. “First, an outrider. A ship nearby. Then the outrider inside the ship. Then show him Outside. That’s his first visit, Fath. Then an outrider in a fish, near a ship …”
“Slow down, son.”
“Jess can keep up. He’s almost as smart as we are.”
“Your wisdom is commensurate with your age, Ship’s Boy Carr.” The servo’s arm raced, etching a plate, while I pondered the retort.
“Now change to outrider Outside fish. Then, outrider in ship.”
The servo lowered the plate. The outrider tasted it, and wrote.
On an unused section of plate, two additions.
Outrider dead.
Outrider in ship.
“How can he be dead if he’s in our ship?” I tried to puzzle it through.
“He may be saying he’s dead, and not the same one.”
“But he knows our language.”
“Randy, we don’t know that’s what he said. Our words may mean something entirely different to him.”
“Yes, sir. Jess, draw fish-attack-ship.”
“Done, Ship’s Boy.”
The alien tasted. He added a second fish, drew fish-attack-fish. Again, he puddled, the sign of submission.
“Quick, Jess, draw a symbol for that submission.”
“What symbol?”
“Anything. Choose one.”
Jess did: a square.
The outrider tasted.
“Draw outrider-submission-human.”
A taste. A symbol: Yes.
Twice the alien ingested nutrients we provided it. I ingested nutrients too, from a tray brought to our table. I paid no attention to what they were.
We were working on symbols for time. It was excruciating: no matter what we tried, the outrider didn’t seem to understand our representation.
In the distance, a commotion. Tad Anselm jumped up, strode off to deal with it. It was several minutes before he returned. “Sir, Level 4 had a … community meeting? I don’t know what to call it. They sent a delegation.”
“And?”
“They want the outrider off Olympiad. You’ve no right to risk their lives, et cetera. They’re quite worked up about it.”
“Are they, now?”
“Yes, sir. I told them I’d give you the gist of it.”
“How much are you omitting?”
“Most of the hyperbole, and all the swear words.”
Well into the small hours, Fath got to his feet. “I’m not thinking well. We’ll resume in the morning. Mr Janks, relieve your guard.”
“Fath, do outriders sleep?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why not set up a second shift?”
“I want to oversee the sessions; a wrong word may cause chaos.” Fath guided me toward section six. “Perhaps even hostilities.”
Wearily, I trudged up the ladder. “So much time wasted.”
He slapped open our hatch. “Now, about this afternoon, when I asked you to don a suit …”
Uh oh. I had a bill to pay.
“Sit here.” He patted the side of his bed.
I understood that part. The lecture always came first.
“You ran away from Anthony rather than behave, didn’t you?
“That’s because Scanlen—” I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“You agreed to my parenting, and defied me. Is it to be your pattern?”
“No, but—”
“Am I in charge?”
“Yes, sir.” My tone was reluctant.
“Very well. Leave the cabin. Don’t come back until you’re ready to conduct yourself accordingly. Sleep anywhere you like. You’re off duty until your personal problems are resolved.”
“You’re kicking me out?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I’m suspending parental responsibilities. When you accept them permanently, I will too.”
“I accept.”
“That’s too glib. Think on it.”
“I have.” My lips were dry.
“Permanently, until you’re grown. Even when I’m wrong, I’m in charge. Can you pledge that on your honor, or whatever you’ll hold to?”
Dad waved cheerfully from Paragon’s hatchway.
His image faded.
Tearfully, I said to Fath, “I’m supposed to watch you walk off to be killed?” Couldn’t he understand? I’d done that once. Never again could I allow it.
He made no reply.
“I ca—ca—can’t, sir.”
“Leave until it’s so.” He pointed to the hatch.
I trudged out to the corridor. Behind me, the hatch slid shut.
20
IT WAS DEEP IN Olympiad’s night. I curled up on a lounge sofa. Within minutes, I jumped up, wandered the compartment aimlessly. How could a joey sleep, abandoned and alone? When his eyes stung, his stomach congealed itself into a hard knot?
An hour passed. The lounge was oppressive. I wandered the corridors. Level 1 was cold and impersonal; I went below.
After a time I found myself at the hatch to Cabin 575. I knocked softly. Louder. Again.
“What is it, Randy?” Corrine was disheveled with sleep.
“Could I stay with you and Janey? The floor’s fine. I mean, the deck. I won’t make a sou—”
“In. Whatever happened between you? No, tell me in the morning.” From the closet, a spare blanket and pillow. She tucked me in at the foot of her bed, planted a kiss on my forehead, turned out the light.
I lay awake, learning how to cry in utter silence.
In the lower dining hall, sullen faces, voices kept low. Crew as well as passengers. Even my newfound friends among the crew managed not to see me. I snorted at the irony: I couldn’t be trusted because I was a relative of the Captain, while he’d ordered me out of his life.
Dully, my head full of lint, I spooned the unappetizing mush I’d made of my cereal.
“There you are.” Fingers gripped my arm. Mikhael Tamarov looked weary. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“Why?” He’d put me on report. Did he think I’d forget?
“Come along.” He hesitated. “I’m off duty. It’s a request. Please, Randy.”
I abandoned my bowl. “Where?”
“Anywhere. A lounge.”
My whole body ached, but I followed. The moment we were alone, he blurted, “Pa looks like hell. His eyes are red.”
“Why?”
“He wouldn’t tell me, but I could see your bed wasn’t slept in. What’s between you?”
I swallowed. Abruptly, unbidden, the story poured out of me. When at last I wound down, pacing from bulkhead to bulkhead, Mik snagged me, made me sit. “You’re both so bloody proud.”
“And you aren’t?” My voice was hot. “When I tried to stand up for you with Yost—”
He waved it away. “A father’s job is to protect you. That’s what Pa wants to do.”
“You’re on his side? He didn’t protect you from Galactic.”
“Goofjuice. I begged and pleaded, but Pa refused to bring me. It was Derek who took me aboard!”
I swallowed. “Fath didn’t keep a promise.”
“Randy, I don’t care if you’re in the right. It’s torturing him. Go put an end to it.”
“You don’t understand. Dad—Derek—is gone. I saw the outrider kill Kev, my best friend.” Somehow, I made myself say what I didn’t dare. “I … can’t … lose … him … too.”
For answer, Mikhael threw his arm around my shoulder.
When he left, I was too drained for words. I stumbled out to the corridor.
If the alien could submit, so could I. Nothing was worth what I felt.
Fath wasn’t in our cabin. Reeling with exhaustion, I headed for the bridge. I was off duty, but he’d see me. Somehow, I was sure. I knocked.
Lieutenant Frand had the watch, with Tommy Yost. “Yes, Mr Carr?”
“Is the … I was looking for …” I leaned against the hatch.
“Get yourself together, joey.” She swung her chair. “Go ahead, Station.”
“General Thurman here. Might I speak to Captain Seafort?”
“He’s not on the bridge.”
“We have a shuttle docking. The Stadholder is aboard. He urgently requests a meeting with the Captain. He wants me present. Might you return to the Station?”
“Stand by, Mr Thurman.” She stabbed the caller. “Bridge to Mr Seafort.”
“Go ahead, Ms Frand.” Fath, on the bridge speaker. He listened. Then, a sigh. “I don’t see how I can refuse. Summon Mr Van Peer. Return to the Station.”
“To their lock?”
“No, don’t mate. Stand by alongside. I’ll go across in the smallest launch.”
“Aye aye, sir. What about the fish Outside?”
“Heavens, I nearly forgot. Proceed very slowly, and give it a wide detour. If it follows, take no alarm. Alert the laser room watch, though.”
Ms Frand replaced the caller, turned to me. “Well?”
“Fath—Mr Seafort’s talking to the outrider?” I should be with him. Without me, who knew what wild chances he’d take?
“I’m under no orders to tell you his whereabouts.” Her tone was cold. “The Log says you’re suspended from duty.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Joey, this is a personal matter between you and him. Settle it on personal time.”
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
“But, settle it. You hear me?”
“Yes ma’am.” I made my escape.
If something provoked the alien to its gesture of submission, Fath would hurry round to join him, as he always did. But this time he’d be alone. He’d have no thought for himself. A moment ago I’d believed I could live with it. Now I wasn’t so sure. I knew what Mik would have me do; no point in seeking him out. And Mr Branstead was groundside.
Where lay my duty: to obey Fath, or protect him?
I had no one to ask.
No one but Anth.
My pulse quickened.
Anth cared for me. He had Dad’s sense of right. He’d tell me what to do.
Fath would never let me go to the station to see him.
I had to. I was desperate.
This time, when we were done, no doubt Fath would punish me without mercy. And I’d deserve it.
Steeling myself, I hurried to the launch bays.
Olympiad, like Galactic before her, had four launches. I found the bay for the smallest, cycled through the lock, peered in the hatch. Two sailors were topping off her propellant. I grabbed an empty duffel from a hook, strolled nonchalantly toward the launch.
One of the ratings glanced up.
“Captain wants this aboard.” I trotted up the ladder. They paid me no heed.
They wouldn’t be handing out suits; the launch was pressurized. I opened the aft suit locker, squeezed in. A tight fit, but I could manage it. I shut the hatch behind me. It wasn’t quite pitch-dark within. The suits had a metallic smell.
I waited a full hour, my calves starting to ache, a thruster-suit’s neck clamps pressed into my collarbone.
At last I heard voices. The Captain. A sailor. Someone else. Mikhael.
I felt us disengage. I gulped, as weightlessness engulfed us. This was no time to lose my breakfast.
The purr of our thrusters. I imagined I could feel the acceleration, knew it wasn’t so.
From the cabin, low voices, chatting.
Bumps, and clicks, as we mated. Sudden gravity made my knees weak.
The hiss of an airlock.
“Captain Seafort?” A new voice.
“Here.”
“The Patriarchs welcome you.”
“What? Why are you—Mik, look out—” A cry of rage.
I flung open the hatch. Three soldiers, with stunners. Fath lay on the deck. Mik was struggling in the cockpit. Abruptly he sagged, dropped to the deck, A sailor cowered in his seat. The nearest soldier touched the stunner to his chest. His eyes rolled up.
No one had seen me. I ducked back in the locker, shut the hatch.
As they passed, I would fling open the door, catch at least one of them. I’d grab his stunner, use it on the others.
I put my shoulder to the hatch, waiting for my moment.
Feet, dragging on the deck. “Never mind, we’ll come back for him!”
I tensed.
The steps faded. The hiss of a lock.
Ever so cautiously, I peered out.
Idiot! You frazzing fool! You were in the aft suit locker. The airlock was toward the bow.
Fath was gone.
Nothing would rouse Mik, though his breathing was regular, his heart strong. He’d be out at least an hour. I paced the aisle, frantic.
Even I knew better than to dash into the Station corridor to look for him. They’d almost certainly have the launch under guard. Furthermore, I didn’t know my way, and would blunder about helplessly, unarmed.
I peered out the porthole. In the far distance, lights against the white blaze of stars. Olympiad. I had to warn her, but I had no idea how to use the cockpit radio. It didn’t look like a ship’s caller.
There wasn’t a single frazzing thing I could …
Think. I’d hidden in a suit locker. We had suits. Where could I go?
Nowhere, but suits had radios. When Kev and I were hiding from the outrider, Fath had said to use frequency seven. Was that Olympiad’s shipboard frequency? Could they even hear me from this distance?
What about the Station? Would they be monitoring that channel? They’d storm the launch and …
No matter. We had to rescue Fath. Feverishly, I donned a suit. There were no three-quarter ones; I had to climb into a full size. I swam in it.
I glanced down, but couldn’t see the radio keys; I was too short. My eyes barely peered over the neckpiece.
The controls would be the same for every unit. I found frequency seven on a hanging suit, set my own by f
eel, switched on the radio.
“Hello? Olympiad, hello?” I kept my voice low, as if that could protect me.
Nothing.
“Mayday, mayday! Calling Olympiad. For Christ’s sake, answer the frazzing—”
“Comm Room here. Who’s fooling with the radio?” Ms Skor’s voice was sharp. “Suits are for emergencies. What cabin are you—”
“This is Randy. I—”
“Get off this channel. Use the caller. I’m putting you on rep—”
“LISTEN, YOU STUPID GRODE!” My throat was raw. “I’m in the launch, they took Captain Seafort, I mean, kidnapped him. Hurry, Mik’s unconscious and they’re coming back for—”
“Which launch? He didn’t take you. You’ve been suspended.”
I’d get nowhere babbling hysterically. For Fath, every moment counted. I swallowed, forced my brain to slow. “Ship’s Boy Carr reporting, ma’am. I’m in the launch docked at the Station. I sneaked aboard and hid in the suit locker. They came on and stunned Fath, I mean the Captain. Mr Tamarov tried to fight and they stunned him too. They dragged the sailor and Mr Seafort away.”
“Who?”
“All I heard was, ‘The Patriarchs welcome you.’ He’s gone. Get him back!”
“Hang on.” A click. Silence. I shifted from foot to foot, in growing panic.
“Tolliver, here. Where’d they take him?”
“Through the lock, sir.”
“What’s your status?” Behind his voice, the clang of alarms.
“We’re mated to the Station. Lock is closed, but I heard someone say they’d be back for Mik—Midshipman Tamarov. He’s out cold.”
“Who knows you’re aboard?”
“No one, sir. I was hiding in the locker.” I forced words through the shame. I should have leaped out, protected Fath. If we were family, I owed him not an iota less.
“Stay away from the airlock porthole.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Seal your lock.”
“How?”
He told me. I keyed the panel. A light flashed red. “Now what, sir?”
“Randy …” A deep breath. I could almost see Tolliver forcing the edge from his voice. “You’re absolutely sure they stunned him? This isn’t some …”
“Some joeykid’s story?” My tone was bitter. “No, sir, he yelled, and then he was lying on the deck. Please, send sailors. Attack the Station! Get him back!”
Tolliver’s voice was heavy. “A shuttle departed the Station five minutes ago. I assume Nick’s on it.”
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