“Has there been much progress? I’ve been—out of touch.” He had been out of touch with Maclairn for nearly twenty years now, and nowhere else had success been described in those terms. He rather hoped that Travis might elaborate and thereby provide some hint as to whether he had contacts there. But remembering that he’d promised to make no effort to learn his benefactor’s identity, Terry didn’t pursue the issue.
“As you know, enough people accept the possibility of psi to have stirred up violent opposition to it,” Travis said. “Are you aware that a conspiracy within the former government, and not just Hiller, was behind the Klan?”
“Yes,” said Terry. “I’ve assumed so for a long time. Am I right in assuming now that the new administration has succeeded in getting rid of that faction?”
Travis nodded. “The credit for that belongs to you. ‘In the name of the Captain of Estel’ has become a catchphrase, and recently an Estelan Party has sprung up, small but growing. There will still be opponents of change, but from now on they’ll have no real clout. All the same, winning people over will be a slow process. Symbolism will help, which is why my employer feels it’s vital to keep the idea of Estel alive.”
“It was the symbol that attracted converts, more than anything we actually did,” Alison said. “So I wonder if it’s going to work as well now that Terry’s identity is known.”
“It’s not known to the public,” Travis said. “Just to my employer and a few of his friends, aside from Fleet, which is keeping it quiet.”
“Then I think we should keep it that way,” Terry declared, thinking not only of the symbolic value but of his desire to avoid adulation. “Go on traveling as Bright Hope so that Estel will be seen only when I purposely reveal it to someone, even though I don’t have to worry about Quaid’s bounty hunters anymore.”
“That’s been our intention. We’ve kept it hidden since we bought it, and its real transponder has not been used. The ship’s had a thorough overhaul, by the way. It’s fueled, provisioned, and ready to go.”
“How do I get to it?” Terry asked, hoping there wouldn’t be much delay.
“When we reach Moon orbit its shuttle will meet this starship.”
“Really? I’m surprised that was authorized.” Fleet ships didn’t dock with private ones; Captain Garick had done so only because Undine was too isolated for it to be observed. Near Moonbase there was plenty of Fleet traffic.
“It wasn’t,” Travis admitted. “We’ll be a long way out and the pilot is cooperative; as I told you, my employer is wealthy.”
Another night passed before the rendezvous. Now completely rested, Terry was unable to sleep; his mind was too full of wonder. The future stretched ahead of him, unknowable yet full of hope. At forty-three, he might be Captain of Estel for at least another half-century. Surely in that time he’d be able to make a real impact on thought in the colonies—an impact that would bring humankind closer to the destiny of which the Elders had told him long ago.
As in the dark days on Draconis, his thoughts turned to the Elders; but now with a resurgence of faith. “I suspect your influence will be wide,” Laesara had said to him. She was psi-gifted; perhaps it had been precognition. Why else would fate have intervened in his life so often?
When the ship’s comm announced the completion of docking, Terry and Alison picked up their duffels and waited by the airlock, hearts pounding with anticipation. “Good luck, Terry,” Gabriel Travis said. “We won’t be seeing each other again, but I’ll watch for news of what you’re achieving.”
“Thanks for everything,” Terry said, feeling the words were inadequate. “I don’t know how to express my gratitude to the employer you can’t name—”
“Don’t worry about that,” Travis said. “Just do what you’d do if you’d never been imprisoned, and our expectations will be fulfilled.”
The lock cycled, and they walked through the open passage to the shuttle—the familiar shuttle belonging to Estel.
A slender, sandy-haired man was waiting by the hatch. “Welcome, Captain Steward,” he said with warmth. “I’m Liam Holden, your copilot.”
Terry stared at him in shocked recognition. Holden, the commander who had helped him escape from Stelo Haveno! Young as he had seemed then, he now looked no older than he had on that day. Most certainly he wasn’t old enough to have retired from flight status. “My God!” he exclaimed. “Did they catch you after I left? If you were forced out of Fleet because of what you did for me—”
“I was never in Fleet. I was no more a commander than you were a warrant officer.”
That was even worse; impersonating a senior officer was a felony. “Tell me you didn’t serve time,” he said, thinking unhappily that if Holden had escaped from custody, that could well explain his willingness to accept a subordinate role like this where he would remain obscure.
“Don’t worry, sir,” the pilot said. “I usually manage to avoid trouble.”
“But then how—why—did you end up here? You were the best pilot I’ve ever flown with. If you’re not evading the law you could have your own command. And how did you make connections with the man who bought Estel?”
“Our mutual benefactor has wealth and connections, as you were told,” Holden said, “and he has eyes and ears in many places. He has kept track of the whereabouts of Estel for a very long time.”
“Are you saying he sent you to Stelo Haveno?” That would explain a lot he’d wondered about, Terry realized, but it would also raise new questions.
“That’s one way to look at it,” said the pilot. “I’m not free to say more, and you’ve promised to make no attempt to learn about him.”
“I can never thank you enough for what you did—and I understand that you’ve been taking care of Estel since it was auctioned, so I have even more reason to be grateful to you.”
“It was my privilege, sir. It’s a beautiful ship.” He meant this, Terry perceived; Holden’s feelings came through clearly although his mind was closed to deeper probing. As had been evident at Stelo Haveno, he was a strong telepath, naturally gifted as well as trained; if he chose to pry it would be very hard to keep secrets from him.
“You needn’t call me ‘sir’—this isn’t Fleet,” he said. “I’m Terry.”
“And I’m Liam,” the man replied, smiling again. “I hope we’ll be friends, Terry, but I won’t forget that you’re captain. To serve under the Captain of Estel is a high honor, and I’m happy to have been given the opportunity.”
After reintroducing Alison, Terry went to the cockpit. Liam held back, motioning him to the command pilot’s seat.
“You take it this time,” Terry said. “I’m rusty; I haven’t flown for nearly three years.” He didn’t really think he’d lost his edge, but if he had, he didn’t want to find out with Liam beside him. The young man had far greater skill than a copilot’s job required; if he’d never been in Fleet, where had he learned to handle a fast, high-powered Fleet shuttle like the one he’d escaped in?
As they approached Estel, Terry’s heart swelled with happiness. To be back aboard in real life when for so long he’d been there only in dreams . . . he had never imagined such a turn of events. Excitement rose in him until he felt it would overflow and release the secrets he must keep hidden.
The rendezvous and docking went smoothly. As they entered the ship he paused for a moment, thinking of Jon. Then, leaving Alison to make herself at home, he proceeded to the bridge and settled into the place where he had always known he belonged.
“What are your orders, Captain?” Liam asked, with the air not of a subordinate but of a friend and equal.
“We’ll head out to jump distance,” Terry said. “I’m not sure yet where I’ll go first. But I’m going to visit all the worlds in the League before I’m through.”
~ 55 ~
From the beginning, Terry liked Liam. He was a good companion despite his reticence about his own background, of which he revealed nothing; his wholehearted belief in spreading ac
ceptance of advanced mind-powers drew them together. More importantly, Terry’s telepathic sensitivity told him that this was a man who was not only a congenial friend who shared his goals, but wise for his age and absolutely trustworthy.
Though it was apparent that Liam had had mind training, he never said where or when he’d received it. He’d shown when they met at Stelo Haveno that he was aware of Maclairn’s existence, of course, and had heard of the Stewards of the Flame. So if he was not a former member of Shepard’s crew, as Terry had then assumed, what was he? He knew about the Bramfield Clubs and the work of the mentors there, but could not be pinned down as to any specific personal experience; and since Terry had to steer clear of the subject of his own training he made no attempt to draw him out. With one exception, they were limited to discussing generalities.
The exception was the matter of Alison’s training. This first arose when, soon after they boarded Estel, Liam took something from the secure storage cabinet on the bridge and handed it to him. “I imagine you’ll be glad to have these back,” he said.
The neurofeedback helmets! Terry had not dared to hope that they had been retained when the ship was sold. His personal possessions hadn’t been; Alison had been able to take only her own clothes, most of which she’d had to discard when they embarked for Draconis. They both would have to buy new ones at the first world they visited, and he’d have to replace his lost tablet computer as well as the rest of the neurofeedback gear. But somehow, the helmets had escaped confiscation.
“They were hidden with the true transponder,” Liam explained. But that was no real explanation, because Terry had not put them there and Alison said she hadn’t done so either. And he’d been wondering why Fleet hadn’t found that transponder. When pressed, Liam told him that Gabriel Travis had inspected the ship with an eye to buying it before Fleet had a chance to search it thoroughly. It seemed strange, however, that Travis had known what to look for.
In any case, it was necessary to tell Liam how the helmets had been used, and this led to the revelation that Alison had gone to the Bramfield Club in New Afrika and met mentors there. That couldn’t be concealed, for she wanted to continue with neurofeedback and refresh abilities she’d had no opportunity to practice in the past three years. “How did you get hold of the helmets?” Liam inquired.
Terry told him. “I did the programming for processing their output myself,” he added, realizing that this must make him sound like a genius since he couldn’t mention having studied the original source code on Titan. Liam didn’t question it. Nor did he ask why, if he was aware there were mentors in New Afrika, he hadn’t made contact with them instead of sending Alison and Gwen to the Bramfield Club alone. But he didn’t let the subject of New Afrika drop.
“If I may make a suggestion, Captain,” he said, “there’s charter work to be had in that colony. I heard about it only yesterday and there are no private ships there right now, so we might be in time to get the job. There would be no passengers, just data too sensitive to send by ansible.”
Terry froze. Travis had promised that he’d be offered charter jobs and he certainly needed to earn some money; they had only Alison’s credits—which unlike his own had not been confiscated—to cover immediate expenses. But New Afrika, the one place apart from Earth and Maclairn that he could not go. . . .
He couldn’t avoid saying so; even if he were able to make a plausible excuse to turn down the job, sooner or later the issue would arise again. Best to make plain from the outset that as captain, he didn’t have to account for his decisions. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to pass on it,” he said. “I have reasons to avoid New Afrika.”
“You wouldn’t have to go to the surface,” Liam pointed out. “I can make all the arrangements if you authorize me to do so on your behalf.”
That was true enough; since he trusted Liam implicitly with the ship, there was no reason not to trust him with business dealings. And he’d surely like to find out what was now being said about Estel on New Afrika’s Net. So it was to that world they went first, and Terry, logging on from orbit as he had in the past, found that discussion was very much alive. The story of how the Captain of Estel had faced down the Ku Klux Klan had been endlessly repeated and, not surprisingly, exaggerated. No one knew what had happened to him afterward, but people suspected that he had escaped somehow and gone undercover, and that should persecution of psi arise again, he would appear out of space to save its victims.
“They expect too much of me,” he said to Alison in dismay. “I can’t work miracles. And I can’t be everywhere, even if I help a few people as we did before.”
“Yes, you can,” she assured him. “You are a symbol, and the symbol can be everywhere—isn’t that what we’re aiming for?”
It was. And from that time forward, Terry carried the symbol to countless worlds.
He lost track of where he’d been after awhile, relying on Estel’s log for the details. They followed a routine: a jump, days in normal space learning about the next colony from the knowledgebase, then more days connecting with its Net. Sometimes they contacted Port Control as Bright Hope and went to the surface; other times, if there was no charter work, they stayed in high orbit and made their presence known as the mysterious, unseen Estel. Charter work was plentiful; Liam had contacts on many worlds, presumably through Gabriel Travis, with whom he admitted he communicated via ansible from the larger colonies. Occasionally they carried passengers, but in most cases they merely served as couriers.
Once in a while they returned to Skyros, where they had many friends; and from there Terry was able to contact Zach, who had remained on Earth and—after forging his own ID to remove all traces of his past—had become involved in politics. He’d decided that the support of freedom-loving candidates was where his wealth would do the most good. He was, of course, still in touch with his network, and had by no means given up illegal activities he considered harmless. But he no longer took money for such work.
As time wore on, Terry’s liking for Liam grew and he came to rely on him more and more. He was as skilled at everything else as at flying, including engineering; they had no need to enlarge the crew. His quiet efficiency also extended to business arrangements with clients, but he refused the partnership in charter proceeds that Terry offered him and would take no more than his agreed-upon salary as copilot. It became obvious that despite his youth he was well qualified to be captain of his own ship, yet he never questioned Terry’s authority or made him feel his command decisions were superfluous. How, Terry wondered, could anyone so competent be so lacking in ambition?
One clue was that Liam was a loner who seemed to have no need for contact with people. Though he was friendly when with them and was well-liked by everyone he met, he never sought company by choice. He didn’t mind staying with the ship while Terry and Alison spent time on the surface of a world, and in fact he didn’t seem to be lonely while they were in their stateroom aboard the ship, something that had initially worried Terry. He often spent free time in his own stateroom, reading, so that they had the lounge to themselves—he was an even more voracious reader than Terry and despite wide knowledge of science seemed especially fascinated by the history of civilization.
After awhile, when it seemed unnatural for Liam to be content so long without an intimate relationship, Terry broached the subject. “If there’s anyone you’d like to have aboard, I’ll be glad to take on another crew member,” he said.
“Thanks, but it’s not necessary,” Liam replied. “I’m comfortable with the way things are.” And telepathically, Terry perceived that this was true; yet there was nothing unhealthy about it. Sometime in Liam’s hidden past, he decided, there must have been tragedy. He must have lost a loved one for whom he was still grieving.
Or perhaps he met someone on the rare occasions when he took leave. He did disappear periodically on the surface of one planet or another, sometimes for several days—especially when they stopped at Stelo Haveno for hyperdrive maintenance. He
never said where he went or what he did, nor did he permit it to be sensed telepathically; but he invariably returned on schedule.
They had traveled together for nearly a year before Liam admitted how much he knew about Maclairn. Terry and Alison had been extremely careful not to mention it in his presence, since though he was surely aware that they shared the secret, he apparently didn’t want to discuss it. Then one day when Terry was pondering the Maclairnans’ long-range plan, he was suddenly aware that Liam had far greater knowledge of it than he’d supposed, more than merely hearing about the colony could account for. At first, fearing that he’d slipped and projected telepathically, he clamped his mind tight against sensing, but in the next moment he realized that it was Liam who had slipped—or that perhaps he had deliberately leaked the extent of his involvement. He certainly wasn’t feeling any surprise.
“There’s no need for us to hide it from each other anymore,” Liam said. “What you’re doing is what the Maclairnans aim to do on Earth. That’s why it’s so important.”
A startling suspicion flooded into Terry’s mind, one that would explain a lot that had puzzled him. “Liam—are you . . . Maclairnan? Born on Maclairn, though not a mentor?”
“No,” Liam told him. “I’ve never been there, though I’ve met people who have. To visit as an observer one must be invited, and few are, as I’m sure you know.”
“Has Gabriel Travis been there?”
“No, though he too has been informed.”
That left the mysterious employer. There could be no doubt now that it was the Maclairn Foundation; who else could have revealed so much to Liam and Travis? Evidently the implication of an individual benefactor was a smokescreen; perhaps the Foundation’s leaders wished to judge his success in continuing what he’d started before filling him in on the details. What irony, he thought, that they’d hidden them from someone who was already far more familiar with Maclairn than even the invited observers!
But as weeks and then years passed, he wondered why they still kept him in the dark. Once in a while charter work took him to New Afrika again, and from there to Earth’s moon and back; it occurred to him that he might be handling communication between the mentors there and those on Earth—or even, via Promise, those on Maclairn itself, where no ansible existed. Yet he couldn’t think of any reason why they’d want to conceal this from him.
The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 79