Maire vanished without another word. The boat pitched violently. I was thrown off my feet, but Skull took it in stride, knees bent, riding the deck like a barrel roller.
"Stay down," he advised me without taking his eyes off a hundred different tasks at once. "It's the safest place."
And then it was over, an abrupt calm descending like the eye of a hurricane, save that we were riding through an electrical storm high in the air on a ship that felt like it was anchored to a mountain. As I slowly stood again, untrusting of my footing, the storm blazed to life around us, jagged lighting pulsing across the clouds in mile-long tongues of fire, thunders passing over and around us like the bass of the largest drum ever devised by God. I jumped as lightning struck the outer shields, outshining the floodlights and casting fantastic shadows across the deck.
"Don't worry, it's fuel for the generators." Skull stood relaxed now, the crisis over. The men drifted back to him, drawn like iron filings to his leadership. It was natural, I thought. He had ruled them long before I arrived, and he had lead them tonight in their long-overdue vengeance. Perhaps I should have felt anxious, but I did not.
"It seems the captain owes you twice over, now."
He gave me that same strange look that he had before.
"Do you think she'd free me?"
I was wary of making promises for another, but in all honesty I saw little choice for her in the matter.
"I expect so. She certainly owes you that much."
"Hm," he said. "Well, since we've already saved her life twice tonight, I guess dumping her now would be pointless. Besides, she's a good force field tech."
"I'm sorry, I don't follow you."
"Take a look around, Keryl." The rowers were packed around us four deep. I saw Timash standing on the periphery, watching intently. "It's our ship now."
"And—what are you planning to do with it?"
"Well, that's up to you—captain."
40. I Do Not Hesitate
"He who hesitates is lost." Nowhere is this more true than in the command of men in battle. Win or lose, right or wrong, a leader must act, or forego the confidence, the respect, and ultimately the acceptance of his men.
I was being offered this ship by those who had recently taken control of her, men who by the Nuum definition of things would be considered, I suppose, pirates. I had no doubt that piracy was a capital crime. For all its scientific advancement, this world in many ways reflected the barbarity of my own bygone era. Had I the luxury of reflection, I might debate within myself the efficacy of imposing a punishment which, even in my own time, had failed to make any appreciable dent in the capacity of men to wreak mortal harm upon their neighbors, but I had not the luxury, only an instant in which to weigh my decision: Should I assume a command for which I had no qualification, exercising dominion through discipline where previously the only supremacy had been attained through fear? Or should I decline this dangerous honor and lay the futures of my friends and myself bare to the tender mercies of the mob?
"See that the remainder of the crew is freed," I instructed. "But until we can determine their loyalties, they are to be watched closely. When Captain—when Maire returns, send her to—the captain's cabin."
Skull nodded and detailed a pair of men to liberate the Dark Lady's crew and acquaint them with the new order of things. His sure manner in relaying my orders and handling the men impressed me, and I said so.
"Thanks. I was mate on another barge, once. Even now, it just comes natural." As I turned away, he cleared his throat.
"Yes?"
"Captain, what about the bodies?"
Oh, yes. The mutineers—and a few of our own—lay where they had fallen. The deck should have been awash with their blood, but some agent was soaking it out, cleaning the "planks" as I watched. Still, the bodies remained, intermittently lit by the flashes of lightning.
"Make sure they're dead." Judging from their conditions, this was an unnecessary chore, but I would not have it on my conscience that I had failed to make the effort, not if I wanted to sleep at night. "Then dispose of them as you see fit." I turned again to go.
"We're over water," Skull said to one of his men. "Search the crew's bodies; we'll throw them overboard when the storm abates. Put our men into cold storage." I climbed the ladder to my new quarters. "And start with Durrn," he ordered.
"Wait!" I cried with such force that every man on deck stopped in his tracks. A wild surmise had entered my brain with the arresting power of a whisper in the dark, and I twisted in mid-air as I fairly leaped off the ladder. Striding quickly to where Durrn lay, I searched his clothes, and without a word I pocketed what I found there—but not until I was safely behind closed doors did I allow myself to examine my long-lost Library.
The Librarian himself materialized as I satisfied myself that the polished sphere was unmarked.
"As I believe I mentioned, I am more than capable of withstanding a significant amount of punishment."
I hugged myself with ferocious relief. "I've missed you."
"I do not find that surprising," he replied pedantically. "Although I was limited by my circumstances to extremely passive sensors, the passage of events was hardly difficult to follow. I will admit, however," he went on in a more relaxed tone, "that I was anxious about you, as well.
"And before you ask, both the mechanical and strategic elements of sky barge piloting were omitted from my program." He shook his immaterial head. "My, but you do often seem to exceed the parameters the main Librarian selected for you."
Before I could inquire as to whether this was a compliment or a jibe, someone tried to open the door, and only after finding it bolted did there come a knock.
"That must be Maire," I said. "She's not used to being locked out of her own cabin." The Librarian disappeared without having to be told so that I could unfasten the door.
Maire entered with unusual hesitancy, glancing about before she left the doorway. I stood aside in silent invitation. She was unarmed, and I credited Skull with initiative. Maire was unlikely to attempt to threaten me, given the odds and the debt she owed, but the psychological effects of allowing her to continue going armed would be bad both for the rowers and her own crewmen. I waved her to a seat.
"Harros is dead."
"I know." She nodded. There hardly seemed any way she could not have known, with his body sprawled in plain sight on the deck, but decency commanded me to show some concern. "Was he involved—in the mutiny?"
"It seems that way," I said economically.
"I thought so, when I woke up to find him gone and four men trying to crawl into bed with me." She glanced over at what had been, until an hour ago, her corner. "What are you going to do with my crew?"
As long as open warfare could be avoided, the rowers and the crew were better off divided for now. Tomorrow the integration could begin for those who wished to remain on board. I had not considered the question, but I saw no reason why any former crewman who wished to leave could not be set down by the ship's launch in an empty field near a town. I said as much to Maire.
"They're staying," she said flatly.
"Well, certainly, if that's what they want. But I want them to know they have a choice. Under the circumstances it is only fair."
"I appreciate your sense of fair play, but they'll stay with me. They're my personal retainers. They came with the ship."
I found myself rolling the Library between my hands to keep them occupied. Visualizing the Librarian rolling over and over inside made me smile despite the circumstances.
"Your personal retainers just tried to rape and murder you."
She misinterpreted my smile. "Those were sailors I picked up along the way," she snapped. "Half of my crew was drafted by another sky barge for military duty in the west. I didn't have any choice but to find new sailors." Changing the subject abruptly, she reached for the Library. "What is that thing you've got, anyway?"
I put the Library away before she could get a look at it, lest she recogn
ize it.
"I'm going to need your help to pull all these men together. I have a mission for them and I'm going to need everyone to work together to get it done."
"What kind of mission?"
Following the ancient rule of command once again, I ignored her question. As a subordinate, she had no right to know my plans—not that I had any definite plans to know. But every commander knows: If you can't be wise, at least be decisive.
"I'll need to set up a new chain of command. Skull will be first mate; I'd choose Timash, but he has no experience. You'll be second officer. Your—retainers—will be your personal responsibility, at least for now. Keep them in line and Skull will keep them safe from others."
Maire was half out of her seat. "Second officer? To Skull? On my own ship?"
"Sit down, woman!" She fell back into her chair; she'd never heard my command voice before. "Skull has the respect of the men! He's done the job before. And if I put you in place as my second they'd all think it was because—"
"Because I'm sleeping with you?" Her eyebrows raised, Maire went on: "What do you think they think we're doing right now? 'Captain's privilege,' they call it."
I felt the warm blood rise in my face. "I'll put a stop to that." I sighed heavily. "By God, what do they think of you?"
"Oh, come on. They already know about Harros."
For a moment, I was nonplused, thinking of Harros, whose broken body waited with the others for the long fall to the sea. Then the light dawned…
"What do you mean, you and Harros? He was shot in the head!"
"Since when has a man ever let a little thing like that stop him?"
The blood rose in my face once again. "This is hardly a fit topic for discussion. I'll have Skull set the men straight."
"As long as you're setting things straight, there's something I've been wondering about, and as long as I'm going to be working under you for a while, I think I have a right to know." She leaned forward again, staring me straight in the eye.
"Who the hell are you, anyway?"
I found my reliance upon decisive action in place of hesitation to be wearing thin.
"What do you mean?" I thought it a reasonable question under the circumstances, and the best I could do. I was tired.
"You heard me. You're too big to be a Thoran, but you run around with a gorilla. You're a yellow, but you're dyed to be a red. You're carrying a Library, but you don't know the first thing about not firing a weapon on a sky barge—and I can't find your address in the datasphere.
"At first I thought you were a spy," Maire continued. "Or else an assassin. But that didn't make any sense. If you were a spy you couldn't have found me in the Vulsteen city, and if you were an assassin you would have left me there. So who the hell are you, and how did you end up running my ship?"
"I won't be needing it long," I answered almost inaudibly.
"And then what?" she demanded, her maternal instincts aroused.
"And then you can have it back," I said harshly. "I won't need it after that."
"After what?"
"None of your business," I whispered.
"It damned well is my business!"
"You can have your pick of the cabins, after Skull," I told her. I knew it would infuriate her that I still ignored her questions, but I had more work to do and no time to indulge her. "Are we secure for the night?"
"Yes," she gritted.
"Good. Then please fetch Skull and Timash. We need to have a conference." When she hesitated, I added: "You will find that some of your questions may be answered."
She still did not move. "Not the one I want. There's something weird about you. You know the wrong people, you turn up in the wrong places, and most of all the 'sphere says you don't exist." She looked at me most queerly, as if seeing me through a microscope and discovering an unknown virus. "Are you from the homeworld?" she breathed.
"I was born right here on Thora."
Maire banged her fists on the table. "That's impossible! Then why aren't you in the 'sphere?"
I grabbed her wrists. "Stop pounding the furniture and do as you're told."
She did stop pounding the table; breaking free of my grasp, she wound up and swung at me, instead.
Again, I did not hesitate. I caught her hand, pulled her to me, and kissed her.
41. I Betray Myself
When I finally dismissed my "senior staff" that night, I made sure to bolt the door to my new cabin, and still I slept neither in the bed that Maire had recently occupied, nor that used by Harros—though now it appeared that recently the two had been interchangeable. That was not, however, the reason behind my choice, nor was it squeamishness about sleeping where lovers had last lain before one of them died, even if that was more than sufficient in and of itself.
No. In the main, I apprehended assassination. Only hours ago an attempt had been made upon this room's tenant, and the change of landlords, to my mind, made a repeat of that scene more rather than less likely. Maire had calmed for the duration of the conference—amazingly, she had not only failed to attack me for the liberties I took with her while we were alone, she accepted them without comment and fetched Skull and Timash straightaway—but I, like most men, am only so far acquainted with the ways of the fairer sex that I admit the depths of my ignorance. Maire, while she had assured me that Durrn had revealed the only bolt-hole into or out of this cabin, might harbor darker motives than she would admit.
And even could I trust her not to attempt to take back her ship, her men might try something equally foolhardy. For tonight I had them under guard, but it was best to take no chances; without my command, the crew would surely dispose of them and sail away to their homes. I intended eventually that they would have that chance, but not at the expense of more lives lost.
Nor could I even rely upon my own men. I had taken Skull's pre-eminence by force; by force or stealth it could be taken from me.
I checked the locks again, and slept in a pile of tapestries in a dim corner. Despite all my precautions, had my killer sidled up to my side in the night, I would have died, for no sooner did I lie down than I was dead to the world until Timash rattled my door in the morning.
Groggily I staggered across the strange room, tripping on a worn piece of carpet. Timash was insufferably cheerful.
"You look like the wrong end of a rhinocehorse."
"Which side is that?" I asked, casting about for a sink in which to wash my face.
"Usually the bottom. Rhinocehorses trample their prey before eating it."
"Oh." I decided ignorance truly was bliss. "Where in heaven's name is the sink?" Now that I thought about it, there was much missing in the captain's quarters. Being the only woman on the ship, I doubted she had shared her sanitary facilities with her crew—especially as she was their captain, and a titled lady to boot.
Timash looked around. "You could ask the Library to ask the ship's databoard."
The thought of sharing my morning not only with Timash but with the supercilious image of a long-dead professor did not improve my mood. I said I didn't know where the dataport was.
"You could ask him that, too." Gorilla or not, if he offered any more help I was likely to throw him overboard if it meant cutting him up and shoving his body parts out through the porthole.
"I refuse to ask a computer every time I want to wash my face. Where I come from the washing bowl was always right next to your bed!" As if on cue a panel in the wall beside the bed slid soundlessly away, revealing the water closet. "See?" I demanded. "Some things never change." I disappeared inside to take care of my morning ablutions. As I said, some things did not change—thank Heaven.
I emerged with an entirely new outlook on life. It brightened even further when I saw how Timash had spent his time: breakfast was on the table. After all the time we had spent together in his mother's house, he even knew what I liked, odd as it seemed to him.
He watched me eat with a silence that conveyed much. Timash had never been disposed to pensivity. He had
learned that I tended to eat, not talk, at meals, but he had never let that stop him before. I made an encouraging motion with my fork.
"Out with it."
"The men are wondering what you're planning to do—"
"And?"
"And so am I."
I wiped my lip to give myself time. I sighed and settled back in my chair to give myself some more. At length, however, I ran out of things to dawdle over and Timash was still awaiting my answer.
"I started out to find Hana Wen and bring her home. That hasn't changed."
"I'll give the pilot orders to make course for Dure," Timash acknowledged, but he did not rise from the table.
"Was there something else?" I asked coldly, for Timash's question had left my nerves on edge for reasons I could not pin down.
"What about after Dure? Are you still planning to try to find that time machine?"
My irritation made me answer his question with one of my own.
"Why? Did you have other plans?"
"Me?" He leaned back, hands wide. "No, I'm just along for the ride." We were both silent for a few moments, not knowing how to escape this swamp in which we had wandered. "I just thought maybe you wanted to do a little more with your life."
"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" If I thought my attitude would cow him, I was surprised.
"It means that after the way you helped out the conservationists, I thought maybe you were onto something! I saw how they reacted to you, the same way I did. They wanted to follow you, and they didn't know you from a tiger spider! And Uncle Balu, he saw it, too! He was the one who said I should go with you in the first place. 'He's gonna go far, boy.' That's what he said. 'Follow him and the stars're the limit.'"
I shook my head. "I don't understand. What are you trying to say?"
He took a deep breath and plunged on. "Uncle Balu was right. Look what's happened since we met. You organized the conservationists and destroyed an entire Nuum research station. We got caught by the Vulsteen, and you made friends with the breen, for god's sake. Now we get kidnapped onto a sky barge, and a week later you've not only taken over the slave hold, you're captain of the whole damned ship!"
The Invisible City Page 28