[232] Lissa resumed her work on Freydis. Not quite three months later, she came into bush camp at eventide and found a message on her communicator. Thereupon it took three planetary rotations to plead private emergency, arrange for her replacement, flit to the colony, and commandeer a flyer. It wasn’t a speedster; the six or seven hours it spent going halfway around the globe became interminable.
Nonsense, ridiculous, she muttered in her mind. There can’t be this kind of urgency. Can there?
Night lay over Venusberg when she arrived. She was faintly glad of that. The vast scars that mining and manufacturing had gouged in highland forest were amply infuriating on video. Or simply depressing, and she in reaction against sadness? After all, Torben was right, this was inevitable in the early stages of settlement. It shouldn’t have been, but mortals being what they were, it was. And the wound, the ulcer, was still tiny on the body of a whole world.
It must not be let grow much bigger.
Though operations sprawled, habitation huddled mostly dark. More machines than people labored here. The airfield glared out of a surrounding murk. She set down and sprang forth, leaving her vehicle to the servers. A solitary live figure waited at the edge. Hebo. He hurried, well-nigh ran, to meet her and seize both her hands.
“Jesus, how good to see you!” Then, with the wry, lopsided grin she remembered from past moments: “I wish you came to gaze into my eyes, not on an errand, but welcome anyhow.” A server brought her bag. He took it in his left hand, his right on her elbow. “You’ve got a room at the hostel, of course, and I’ll escort you—right away? Or would you like a drink, a snack, a gab, or whatever first?”
She beat off temptation. “I’m wide awake, thanks; not hungry, but, yes, a drink would go well. Unless you’re politely pretending not to be dead tired.”
“No, I’m keyed up like a grand piano.” Another of his [233] archaisms that she didn’t recognize. “Whatever we do, let’s get inside out of this steam-bath air. I know an all-night pub. Noisy, but it has booths.”
They started walking. “Only good for small talk,” she told him.
“Yeah, your call said you have top-confidential information. You really feel like diving into it straight off?”
“If you do. That’ll probably mean a sleepless night, but I’m impatient. However, the site has to be absolutely secure.”
His stride checked for an instant. “I think my digs are. I double-checked them myself, after your call.”
“That’ll be fine.” Keep this strictly business. Even a casual romp could prove too distracting. Especially since she suspected it wouldn’t stay casual. “Then you can ferry me to my lodging, and I’ll sleep till noon.”
Did she hear the slightest chuckle, feel the slightest tightening of his hold on her arm? Did she care?
His groundcar whirred them to a house apart from the rest. The interior reminded her of his shelter on Jonna, basic cleanness and order, casual clutter strewn about it, oddments, tools, a half-completed model of a sailing ship, probably one that had plied the seas of ancient Earth. An animation on the wall showed mountains in the background, trees she didn’t recognize waving sinuously under a softly booming wind in the foreground, souvenir of some world where something had happened that mattered to him. Another screen was blank. Did it ordinarily show a woman? Glancing around, Lissa saw no traces of feminine visitors. That didn’t mean he hadn’t had any.
He ushered her to a seat and, at her request, poured a whiskey and splash for her, a neat shot for himself. Briefly, sharply, she remembered an evening in Gerward Valen’s apartment. It faded away as he sat down before her and raised his goblet.
“Cheers,” he said. “Also salud, prosit, skaal, kan bei, et cetera. Again, welcome, Lissa.”
She clinked rims with him and wondered how ancient that [234] gesture was. “I’m afraid I don’t bring the best of news,” she forced herself to say.
He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Didn’t expect you would, from the tone of your voice. Proceed.”
She gathered breath. “Romon Kaspersson and Esker Harolsson have left for Susaia.”
“Hm?” However lightly he spoke, she sensed the sudden tension. “What’s that signify?”
“You know Romon, but probably not as well as you may believe.”
“Probably not. And Esker’s, um, the physicist who was with you on the black hole expedition. I’ve met him a time or two.” She heard a certain distaste. “Go on.”
She drank a longer draught than she had intended and leaned forward. “I admit I’m prejudiced, but the fact is I’ve never felt easy with either of that pair. After I’d said goodbye to you at Forholt, I fell to thinking about those flowers Romon brought. Yes, legitimately, no doubt—you’d have learned otherwise once you got back here”—and never mind about that girl in the office—“but an opportunity? Why did he make a second visit several hours later? Why come at all in person, when telepresence would’ve been perfectly adequate, in fact more suitable for a coolish relationship?”
Hebo’s eyes widened while the pupils contracted. “Judas priest,” he whispered. “He knew you’d be here too, and after what we’d been through together, it was natural, maybe likely, we’d open up to each other—”
She nodded. “Yes. A microbug in the bouquet. When he returned to you, he could scrape it off with a fingernail. What had he to lose?”
“He went home sooner than he’d been scheduled to,” said Hebo grimly.
“Which proves nothing. I had only a hunch. But—what harm?—I had a watch put on him. Not intensive, simply an eye out for anything unusual.
[235] “And now— Obviously he’s been in hyperwave contact with Susaians. Because a Confederacy ship has come to take him there. Him and Esker. To the mother planet. Which means the Dominance.
“It can’t be hidden, no, but it’s been kept as inconspicuous as possible. The, ship took a remote cometary orbit, and they were brought to it on one of the few interplanetary boats the Seafells have. Which implies that higher-ups in that House have approved the whole undertaking. They did give out, very quietly, that the trip is for purposes of discussing a joint venture. The implication was that it’s fairly minor. Nothing for anybody else to worry about.”
“Except us,” Hebo growled.
“Maybe all of us. Who can tell what capabilities the Domination may gain, and what that may mean in the course of centuries? Remember how they tried to keep the black hole collision itself secret. Most Susaians are nice people, yes, lovable, but the Dominators aren’t.”
“Same as with humans. This wouldn’t be the first time in history businessmen looking for a quick profit cut a deal with a government that in the long run intended to hang them.” Hebo rose and prowled the room. “Yeah, I can see it plain. They send an armed ship or two to the giant star for a look-see. If my idea about it turns out to be right, they’ll claim ‘discovery,’ then ‘security,’ and mount guard over the system, same as they meant to do with the black holes, while they milk whatever technology they can from the site. If others protest and invoke the Covenant, why, keep the arguments and diplomacy dragging on and on for decades. After that, if they’ve gotten what they hope for, it’ll be too late.”
His fist crashed against the wall. “If I could arrive first, and announce the discovery! I can’t!”
Lissa got up also and went over to him. “Easy, Torben, easy.” She laid a hand on his. “I’ve been thinking about this, you know. It’ll take Romon time to persuade the Dominators, and then time [236] for them to organize an expedition. Meanwhile, we have a chance.”
Chance indeed, she thought. The stake might include their lives. It thrilled in her.
XLII
ONCE more she spoke alone with her father atop the watchtower of Ernhurst.
They could have been as private in his study, and warmer. The northern half of Asborg had slanted into winter. But when she told him that this mattered greatly to her, he made a slight gesture, she nodded, and they clad themselves
for outdoors and went up. She wondered fleetingly how much their race lived by such unspoken symbolisms. And what of other races?
The air rested quiet and keen beneath an enormous blue. Breath smoked. Paler blue shadows crossed snow lately fallen and still pure. The forest afar stood in its coppery-umber phase. The village and its works showed themselves as knife-sharp. The line of sea to the south sheened too bright to look at for long. A flight of swartwings passed high overhead. Their cries drifted down, a faint steely ringing.
He regarded her for a silent span before he smiled. It didn’t mask the trouble in him. “Well, what’s your newest recklessness?”
“None,” she declared. “Not my style. Really.” While she would never outright lie to him, she could make her own interpretations of the truth, couldn’t she? “I’m still alive.”
“Frankly,” he said low, “I’ve paid my thanks to God for that.”
“You know I don’t charge blindly ahead. I like living.”
“Especially living on the edge.”
“Once in a while, maybe. Though that’s more fun to remember than experience.” Don’t get sidetracked. Persuade. “Daddy, some risks have got to be taken. Else we’ll never gain anything.” And we can lose what we do have to those who will take them.
[238] “Knowledge, or treasure, or achievement—” Davy sighed. “You are what you are, darling.”
“I think the House has benefited a little.”
“More than a little. Which I almost hate to admit.”
Lissa gave him back his smile, hers less rueful. “You mean you’re conceding me a point in advance?”
“I suppose so. Go on.”
“You do trust me,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
She locked his gaze onto his. “I’m about to ask you for the most faith ever.”
He waited.
“I have a journey to make that I can’t tell you or anyone about, not yet,” she said. “I can only give you my word of honor that it’s not crazy, it may have a tremendous payoff, and, win or lose, I ought to come safely home. But it’s urgent.”
“What do you want from me?”
“The use of the Hulda.”
She saw him stiffen, heard him catch his breath. “What? Where are you going?”
“Nowhere like those black holes, I swear. However, yes, there are unknowns, there will be surprises, it calls for a ship that can cope.”
“Recruiting a crew—”
She shook her head. “That’s taken care of. I’m sorry, Dad. I wish—” in a tidal rush she felt how deeply she wished it, and for a moment her eyes stung—“I wish I could say more. I just can’t. I—we—have to leave in a hurry. No time to collect the three or four who could fit in with me. Not here on Asborg,” as slowly as such things always moved. The more so when the objective would raise a sensation she could ill afford.
Again Davy studied her before he said, slowly, “I might make a guess or two.”
It angered Lissa to feel the blood hot in her face. “We know [239] what we’ll be doing, and we’re able to,” she snapped. “Don’t you believe I’ve learned a few things in my life?”
“You have,” he whispered. “Enough?”
Her heart and her tone melted. “I’ll communicate along the way. Our encryption. The trip shouldn’t take very long, actually. Afterward, oh, yes, you’ll have the story, you and Mother and the whole family and the world!”
“Hulda isn’t mine, you know,” he said, “any more than Dagmar or— She belongs to Windholm.”
“Of course. But you have authority to order a special, short, inexpensive mission, without giving notice, when a ship is currently idle.”
If he knew what she intended, quite possibly his sense of honor would require that he consult his associates in the planetary governance, which would bring on the questions and debates and long-winded arguments that would eat up what time remained. She couldn’t chance it.
“I’ll have to answer to the council,” he reminded her.
“That’ll be then,” she said, “and you’ll give them a blaze of a good answer.”
“Meanwhile,” and she heard the pain, “I’ll have to pray for that. Pray for you, Lissa.”
“Oh, Dad!” she cried. Hardly thinking, she came into his embrace and laid her head against his shoulder. Yet soon she was crooning, “You will. You’ll trust me. You always have.”
At what cost to him? The question pierced. But she’d make it up to him, she’d make him proud and glad, truly, truly.
XLIII
FREYDIS shone against the dark as a tiny crescent. Sunniva light fell space-harsh over the little craft in high parking orbit. She waxed as Lissa’s maneuvered to rendezvous. For a moment the woman imagined the sight from an outside viewpoint—Tramp a sharp-nosed cylindroid, battered and tarnished, Hulda a cone not quite so long but twice as broad at the stern, sleekly bluish, massive with the powerplant and equipment that left small room inside for living creatures.
Stillness hummed. The ships conducted their robotic dialogue directly by radio. Lissa almost heard her heart knock.
Smoothly, Hulda matched velocities and lay alongside. The slight, shifty weight of accelerations fell to zero. She undid her safety harness and floated free. Conjoined airlocks opened. A whiff of odorous Freydisan atmosphere mingled with hers. Hebo came through, grabbed a handhold to check his flight, and swung toward her. “Hi,” he said. His manner was not as exuberant as she had expected. Diffident? Hardly like him. But how well did she actually know him?
Dzesi followed. As usual, the Rikhan was clad mostly in her spotted orange fur and a belt holding two pouches and her great, wickedly curved sheath knife. She smiled, though, a curious thing to see on that half-feline face, and greeted, “Honor to meet you again, milady of Windholm. Yes-s, I remember Jonna and what you did.”
“Welcome aboard,” said Lissa, surprised by a sudden hesitation in herself. She covered it with briskness. “Are you ready to start?”
[241] “We hope so,” Hebo answered. “Things are pretty well battened down at Venusberg, and I don’t believe anybody thinks anything special about our taking a short ‘vacation.’ ” Messages arranging for this meeting had been encrypted, but that was fairly common in business and private communication alike. “Shall we fetch our stuff and stow it?”
“The sooner the better.” Lissa quivered with the wish to be on her way. Doing survey and science in the forests was well enough, but now she realized that before much longer she’d have grown bored. Today she was on the track of big game.
Maybe.
Man and anthropard went back, returning with their personal gear and other needs, neatly arranged, skillfully handled in micro-gee. Lissa showed them where and how to stow it. She noted a couple of firearms and a hand-held missile launcher. All right, she’d come heeled too, if not so heavily. This vessel wasn’t armed, as he’d have preferred, but she didn’t expect any hostility; they should arrive and depart well before the Susaians. Their personal weapons were mainly a psychological prop, she hoped.
She gave a quick tour. Life support was adequate but austere—recyclers, synthesizers, basic facilities for sanitation, cleanliness, and medical care, four cubicles for sleeping, an area where a table and benches could be extruded—that was about it. Nor was there much cargo space. Most of Hulda lay abaft the bulkheads, barred from any crewfolk, meant to keep them alive and the ship active in environs that were often lethal.
The group sought the command compartment and harnessed themselves. The viewscreen before their eyes held a wilderness of stars. “Proceed to initial destination,” Lissa ordered.
“To initial destination,” repeated Hulda, displaying the coordinates. Lissa accepted. With faint noise and gentle motion, the spacecraft closed their airlocks and disengaged. Power purred as acceleration began, dropped to a whisper, and thence to silence. The travelers boosted outward at one standard gravity.
Weight steady beneath them, they released their bodies and [242]
rose from their seats. For a while they stood mute.
“Well,” Lissa said at length, because somebody ought to say something, “we’re on our way.”
“This—” Hebo cleared his throat. “I’ve been trying to find words— This is so good of you.”
Odd how that put her more at ease, seeing the big man stand half abashed before her. She smiled. “I have my motives, you know.”
“But it’s—it is kind of a long shot. Suppose we don’t find anything, or anyhow nothing useful?”
“That’s the chance we take. You were prepared to invest a number of years and all your earnings.”
Did she have the power to restore his self-confidence, or did it—more likely—revive on its own? Nevertheless he stayed earnest. “Yeah, but it’s my gamble. Mine and Dzesi’s. If we’d lost the toss, we’d have sniffed around through the neighborhood till we had to give up and begin again from scratch, something different. Wouldn’t be the first time. You, though, you’ve stuck your neck out with a lot more to lose.”
“Not really. If we draw a blank, I’ll explain things to my people, and they’ll understand.”
“If you return,” said Dzesi from where she sat on her haunches.
“Uh-huh,” agreed Hebo. “The physical risks, whatever they turn out to be. Why should you take them, Lissa?”
“The case looked important.” She glanced at the Rikhan. “Why you, Dzesi?”
The anthropard made a gesture that perhaps corresponded to a shrug. “It is a hunt. And I was wearying of endless cloud, swampy air, trees crowding in on me.”
Yes, Lissa remembered, she is a drylander, and her folk are nomads of the steppe. But she’s not human; she can never make her feelings entirely clear to me. Throughout these years, she doesn’t seem to have missed the company of her kind.
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