There was a blinding burst of light dead ahead and the force of the hit threw him hard against the straps of his seat. A warning light flashed on his console, confirming that the laser cannon was no longer operational.
“Why do you persist, Steward?” Aaronson’s voice was cold. “You can’t reach us, and you’ve nothing to gain by incurring more damage.”
For first time real fear struck Terry. Fleet could rescue the crew easily enough if they damaged the ship past possibility of repair, so they might well decide to do it. He hadn’t bargained on having to sacrifice Estel. Since the Elders’ existence couldn’t be revealed to Fleet, they wouldn’t be able to restore it this time. . . .
“I can’t leave without speaking with the Council,” he declared. “But I will surrender my ship to your custody.”
There was a long pause. Finally Aaronson replied, “Very well. Come no closer; we will send a shuttle to dock with you. How many have you in your crew?”
“Just myself and my copilot.”
“Stand by, then, and prepare to be boarded.”
“Affirmative, Shepard. We will establish orbit at this distance. Out.”
The wait was not long; they must have deployed the shuttle earlier with the expectation of picking up personnel from a crippled ship. The patrollers remained in position until it docked and the airlock opened to admit four lieutenants. The first to come through the hatch stared at Terry and Liam, exclaiming, “My God, you are old men. Is this the real Estel, the one no one’s ever seen?”
“You’re seeing it now,” Terry replied. They evidently weren’t aware that it had been seized twice in the past; Fleet had kept that quiet. He was using its real transponder, the one for Bright Hope having been disconnected; but without access to an ansible Shepard could not verify it.
“How did you locate this planet? Its sun’s coordinates aren’t public knowledge.”
“The Captain of Estel is not the public,” Liam pointed out. “He knows much that he has never revealed.”
The lieutenant nodded. “I don’t doubt it, but he won’t be allowed to go down to the surface, you know. We have a strict policy against permitting any landings.”
“Then what do you intend to do with us?” Terry demanded. “You can hardly keep us aboard your ship for the rest of our lives.” It was like déjà vu, he thought; he’d asked Laesara the same thing when Skywalker was captured by the Elders. . . .
“The captain will decide that after you’ve been debriefed,” the lieutenant said coldly. “Get your gear and go through to our shuttle.”
Terry and Liam complied. They had packed duffels ahead of time, knowing they’d be leaving Estel one way or another. They were immediately shut out of the bridge, which one of the officers took over; Terry couldn’t help feeling dismay at the possibility that the ship might be confiscated by Fleet again. But surely it wouldn’t be for long—the Council would request its return, and the wishes of Maclairn’s leaders were always respected.
As they neared Maclairn in Fleet’s shuttle, Terry looked out at the glorious golden sphere, the years since he’d last seen it slipping away. It was still beautiful in his eyes, even after the sight of the Federation worlds. This was what he’d dreamed of, both in conscious contemplation and literally; this was the one place in the universe that tugged at his heart. No matter that it was a dry, rocky planet, gold only because of those rocks and its sparse alien vegetation; that the blue jewels with which it was spattered were drying lakes bordered by salt flats; that the green oases of the settlements, which they were still too far out to see, were small. No other world could ever evoke his allegiance.
So many times he’d made this approach in Promise, coming home after a trip to polluted, depressing Earth. Home . . . now it would be that again, if his mission succeeded, and perhaps even if it didn’t; he had not asked Liam whether he would be taken back to Ydoril in that case.
The choice will be up to you, Liam told him silently, sensing the question. You will have to balance the joy and sorrow; no one can do that for you.
At the moment, Terry felt sure that it would be all joy.
Aboard Shepard, they were taken at once to Captain Aaronson by routes through the maze of passageways that he well remembered, realizing just in time that he must pretend not to know how to reach the bridge. It had not changed. In all this time Fleet must have acquired new cruisers, but guarding Maclairn was not a high priority mission and evidently this one had not been refurbished.
Aaronson, too, expressed surprise at the sight of two aged pilots, though neither of them looked anywhere near as old as they actually were. “It’s true,” he conceded, “that there’s some affinity between the ideals of the Captain of Estel and those of the Maclairnans. But you must realize that even if I were positive that you are not an imposter, which I’m not, I don’t have the authority to let you land. This ship has orbited the colony for over a century with the express purpose of keeping intruders away. Only once did one come near enough for us to scramble patrollers, and though that was before my time, I have been well informed about its pilot’s attempt to deceive us. If anyone not authorized ever does get down there, it won’t be on my watch.”
“Call in the mentors,” Terry declared. “Let them judge me.” He was certain of this; no secrets needed to be revealed for psi-gifted people to perceive that he and Liam were harmless.
“There are no mentors aboard at present,” Aaronson said.
“Well, call Petersville and request that the Council send someone up.”
“I’m not about to involve the Council in the job I’m stationed here to do,” declared the captain decisively. “My orders are to detain intruders. I’m not expected to ask for advice on whether to follow them.”
“The Council won’t thank you when they hear you’re denying them contact with the Captain of Estel,” Liam warned.
“They won’t hear. I don’t bother them with such matters.”
“Sooner or later it will get back to them,” Terry said. “The rumor is already spreading among your crew; those lieutenants aren’t going to keep quiet about it. And during shore leave some will tell friends among the Maclairnans.”
“Perhaps. But by that time you’ll be gone.”
“Haven’t I made plain that I’m not going to be coerced into leaving? Not unless you make me a prisoner on my own ship and crew it with your officers, who I don’t think you can afford to spare for such a job.”
“Fortunately, that won’t be necessary,” Aaronson informed him. “There’s a Fleet transport in orbit for crew rotation. It’s leaving for headquarters tomorrow and you two are going to be aboard it.”
Terry, struck by vertigo, barely managed to hide his dismay. There were not supposed to be any Fleet transports at Maclairn; in his era it had been visited only by Promise. He hadn’t stopped to think about crew rotation. Oh, God, Liam! he cried silently. We can’t let this happen, it would be impossible for me to get back! You couldn’t get anyone else in, either, if they won’t consult the Council. . . .
They would confiscate Estel and neither he nor Liam could regain possession of it. Liam would be free to find some other way to contact the Maclairnans, perhaps through the mentors on Earth. But he himself would have no part in it. He would be arrested for resisting the patrollers, and would be sent back to Draconis. He might be there for what little remained of his life.
Liam, for the first time since Terry had known him, was disconcerted; he had spent his entire career preparing for this mission and had not expected that it could be thwarted. Don’t panic, he responded, I can't believe fate won’t provide some way out.
Can’t you contact the Service ship?
I would, despite my instructions, but there’s nothing they could do.
They could turn the transport back, maybe—not let it jump.
It would be self-defeating, Liam pointed out, to reveal the presence of aliens that way when our aim is to do it peacefully, through you.
“You’ll sta
y here under guard overnight,” Aaronson stated, and motioned to the lieutenants to take them away.
“Wait,” Terry said desperately. He couldn’t leave without at least finding out about Kathryn. “There was a woman, Kathryn, who used to be Maclairn’s ambassador to the League—do you know if she’s still living?”
“Kathryn of Maclairn is a respected member of the Council; of course I know her. But it’s unlikely that you do, considering that you don’t know whether or not she’s alive.”
Terry’s heart leaped. “I have news I’m sure she would wish to be given,” he persisted. But Aaronson did not reply.
They were taken to a small stateroom identical to the one he had shared with his engineer Drew Larssen before his marriage. The guards departed, locking the hatch behind them. Terry, in despair, sat down on a bunk and bowed his head, feeling his courage ebb away. This couldn’t be happening again, not twice! For the second time since his exile he’d come close to Maclairn, only to find himself unable to reach it. He would be torn away, having failed to live up to the Elders’ expectations. . . .
Liam wasn’t blaming him, of course. Terry was buoyed by his silent sympathy. But he was aware that underneath Liam, too, was appalled by their helplessness.
At noon by ship’s time food was brought by one of the lieutenants who’d boarded Estel, a young one who’d observed it with interest but said nothing. He set down the tray and started to leave, then hesitated and turned back. “Captain,” he said to Terry, “I think I might be able to get a message to the councilor Kathryn, if you wish.”
“God, yes!” Terry burst out. “Do you mean tonight?”
“Possibly, if I can reach my friend in Petersville by phone—she’s acquainted with Kathryn. I’ll try.”
“You’ll be well rewarded even for trying,” said Terry, realizing that his credits could be transferred for future use even though League money couldn’t be spent here.
“I don’t want pay,” the young lieutenant declared. “I believe you are the Captain of Estel, and I’ve followed you online ever since I was in grade school. Is there something I can say to let her know the message is important?”
“Yes,” said Terry, with rising hope. “Tell her that I can provide facts she does not know about the fate of her first husband, Terry Radnor.”
~ 67 ~
The day wore on interminably, with no word. But early in the evening a guard appeared, saying “Come along, Steward. The Captain says a member of the Council has come to question you.”
Terry trembled with relief and excitement. Kathryn! Within a few minutes now he’d be with Kathryn. . . .
“Go, Terry,” Liam said, “and good luck.” Silently he added, We may not see each other again—I can’t come down if your efforts fail, and you may choose to stay there permanently. Whatever happens, I’ll always cherish the memory of our years together.
Liam, I’m not going to fail! Before long I’ll be introducing you to the Council.
I trust you will—I believe it’s your destiny to accomplish this mission. Godspeed, my friend. I wish you joy in your homecoming. Liam’s eyes were wet with emotion; shaken, Terry realized what this parting meant to them both. But he was too full of the thought of Kathryn to dwell on it.
He was taken to the mess deck, now deserted after the evening meal. “The wardroom is in use,” the officer said, “so since the Maclairnan has requested privacy, you will be interviewed here. There are guards outside the exits, so don’t try to cause trouble.” The man departed, and Terry was left alone.
He waited, his heart pounding. Kathryn entered from behind the dais as she had for their wedding, held in this room long ago. For a moment he thought he had moved back in time. In essence she had not changed. Her hair was white now, of course, but still short and wavy, and her figure was as slim and straight as a young girl’s. Aging had had as little effect on her as it had on him, though their faces were marked by maturity.
“I understand that you have information for me,” Kathryn said. “I couldn’t authorize a stranger’s transport to the surface, but since I wished to hear it in person, the captain sent a shuttle as I asked. Are you really the Captain of Estel, the original one?”
Terry came forward, unsure how to break the news. His own white hair and age disguised his physical alterations somewhat; still the Elders had purposely made his face unidentifiable. “I am,” he said. “I’m sorry it was not possible for us to meet sooner.”
“So am I. I tried to arrange it, but was told you refused.”
“Like much else I regret, it was necessary.”
“Yet somehow you obtained information about what happened to my husband Terry, and did not give it to me until now? Or has it just come to light? If so, and you’ve come expressly to tell me, I apologize for the treatment you’ve received by Fleet.”
“Kathryn.” He realized that he could not say aloud what must be said; if she didn’t recognize his mind-touch, she would never believe any of the rest of it. Oh, Kathryn, you know who I am, if you still love me as I love you. . . .
Stunned, she stood motionless, unable to speak. Terry . . . Terry? You can’t be, your voice isn’t his, you don’t even look like him. It’s an illusion. . . .
It’s not an illusion. I’m here, after all the years I was forced to stay away. He stepped forward, wanting to embrace her but afraid she would shrink from him.
They told me old age on Maclairn doesn’t bring dementia, she said silently, but I’ve lost touch with reality now.
“No, you haven’t, Terry replied aloud. “I’m real—the man you remember.”
“Terry died a hundred years ago. If he hadn’t, he would have come back to me!”
He’d known this issue would bring pain to her, but there was no way around it. “I couldn’t come back,” he said forthrightly. “I was confined for many years to a planet from which there was no escape. I thought I would die without you, Kathryn. I paid a smuggler to carry a message to your grandfather, but was informed that he was dead. After that I lost hope of ever seeing you again.”
“But you did escape. The Captain of Estel has been traveling around the galaxy for more than eighty years! And, I’ve heard, a wife traveled with him.”
“You had a new lifemate, too.”
“Yes, when I thought you were dead. You knew you were still married to me.”
“Not legally. After six years of separation a marriage is dissolved, and it was twice that before I loved Alison. Yes, I escaped from my prison world, but there were restrictions on my freedom—I was barred both from Maclairn and from Earth.”
“Barred even from communication? I was at League Headquarters on the Moon from time to time, you knew that. Why didn’t you contact me?”
“That’s a long story, Kathryn, the one I’ve come here to tell.”
He reached out to touch her, only to see her retreat in horror. “You’re not Terry!” she exclaimed. “My mind is deceiving me. Terry had lost two fingers of his left hand.”
For the moment he had forgotten about that; he should have kept the hand hidden until she was sure. “There are technologies unknown on Earth,” he said, “and healing powers greater than are known on Maclairn.”
“And yet you know them? You have psi gifts greater than any of the mentors?” Bewildered, she turned away, saying, “That’s harder to believe than that my own can no longer be trusted.”
“Telepathy can’t lie, Kathryn,” he said gravely. “I have spent the last century persuading people to believe in the capabilities of the mind. You have spent it on Maclairn, which was founded on that belief. If we can’t trust our own perceptions, all that has gone for nothing—all the first Stewards endured, all the effort put into the plan to spread mind-powers to humankind. The hope we’ve had for the future is meaningless if what those powers reveal isn’t true.”
For a few moments she stood silent, staring at him with a kind of awe. Then her mind met his in full communion, as it had when they were in love. Terry . . . Terry,
you’re alive . . . what is this miracle that has brought you back to me alive? Hold me, show me that you’re here in the flesh and not just in spirit. . . .
He took her in his arms and held her close. She was crying, and he could barely keep back his own tears. Dearest, I’ve lived so long thinking I’d lost you, lost so much I could never regain. . . . Fate has favored me in many ways, saved my life more than once and given me a chance to serve the cause we share; but never has there been so great a blessing as this.
When he could speak again, he said, “Tell me about our son. For a hundred years I’ve been longing to know—I once heard he was well, and psi-gifted, but nothing more. How soon can I see him?”
“You can’t, unless you go to Earth—he’s a mentor there now. At the original Bramfield Club—he’s heir to what remains of the Bramfield fortune. I donated most of it to the Maclairn Foundation, but he heads that, too.”
Terry was glad, as it was fitting; yet at the same time deeply disappointed. Still, since he was no longer forbidden to contact mentors he was free to visit Earth, so a trip there might eventually be arranged.
For now, there were more pressing responsibilities. Kathryn would find it harder to believe in the Elders than in his own presence, and he didn’t look forward to making the revelation—but she would have to be told before he met with the Council. And it would have to be done soon.
“Will I be allowed to go down to the surface with you?” he asked, smiling.
“Of course. The shuttle’s waiting for me, and I’ll set Captain Aaronson straight. He doesn’t think you’re dangerous, he’s just careful to keep clear of Maclairnan politics.”
“Politics? What kind of politics?” There had been no political conflicts on Maclairn when he left; it was a happy, unified society.
“Well, it’s complicated—I’ll fill you in later. But he knew asking the Council to let an unauthorized person land, especially one as well known as the Captain of Estel, could cause friction.”
The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 86