She shrugged. "Wasn't all that original, really," she admitted. "My grandfather did something similar once against a berserk gantua. And as long as we're handing out compliments, you were pretty fast on the uptake yourself."
"I didn't have much choice," he said wryly. "It didn't look at the time like you were going to have a chance to explain it to anyone."
"Stupid robot," she muttered, shaking her head. "Almost a shame we didn't figure that part out. Layn would probably have had a stroke if one of us had gone up and petted the thing."
Sun grinned. "I think he came close enough to a stroke as it was." His grin changed into a tight, almost embarrassed smile. "You know, Moreau-Jin... I have to admit that I didn't think much at the beginning of having you in the squad.
Not for the tradition reasons Layn trotted out, but because none of the women
I've ever known has had the kind of-oh, I don't know; the killer instinct, I guess, that a warrior has to have."
Jin shrugged, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "You might be surprised," she said. "Besides, a lot of what Cobras do these days is more like patrol officer work than full-fledged war, certainly in the more settled areas of the Worlds."
"Hold it right there," Sun growled in mock annoyance, holding his hands up palm-outward. "I don't mind having you here, but I'm not getting drawn into any theoretical discussions on the merits of women in the Cobras, thank you. Not with a test on surveillance techniques breathing down our necks." He glanced at his watch. "Like in half an hour. Phrij-and I still need to study for it some more."
"Me, too," Jin licked her lips. "Thanks for coming by, Mander. I-uh-"
"Mandy," he said, pulling open the door. "That's what everyone else calls me.
See you in class."
"Right. Bye."
For a long minute after he was gone she stared at the closed door, not entirely sure whether or not to trust the warm glow beginning to form deep within her.
Could her long isolation from the group really be ending? As quickly and easily as that? Just because she'd unwittingly helped give their rough and demanding instructor something of a black eye?
Abruptly, she smiled. Of course it could. If there was one military tradition that superseded every other, it was the "us versus them" feeling of trainees toward everyone else... and especially toward instructors. In helping Sun ruin
Layn's robot spine leopard, she'd suddenly become one of the "us."
Or at least, she warned herself, I've got my foot in the door. But for now, at least, that was enough. The first barrier, her father had often reminded her, was always the hardest to break.
For just a moment she frowned as an odd thought flickered across her mind.
Surely Layn hadn't deliberately let her destroy that robot... had he? No-of course not. The very idea was absurd. He'd already said he didn't want her to succeed.
And speaking of succeeding... Turning back to her reader, she keyed for a fast scan of the lessons on surveillance methods. As Sun had pointed out, there was a test breathing down their necks.
Chapter 8
The reminder clock on his desk pinged, and Corwin looked up at it with mild surprise. Somehow, while he hadn't been looking, the afternoon had disappeared.
It was four fifty, and in just forty minutes the celebration was scheduled to start over at Justin's house. The celebration for his daughter's graduation from the Cobra Academy.
For a moment Corwin gazed unseeingly at the clock, his mind jumping back almost thirty years to the similar celebration his parents had thrown for Justin himself. It had been a strained evening, with everyone trying to ignore the fact that the new Cobra and his twin brother would he heading off in a few days to the mysterious world of Qasama, possibly never to return.
And now it would be Jin who'd be going off in a week. To the same world. Under almost identical circumstances.
To try and fix the same problem.
Corwin could remember a time, far back in the dim haze of his youth, when it had seemed to him that if you fixed a problem right the first time it would stay fixed. When he believed there were problems that could be permanently fixed.
The memories made him feel very old.
"Corwin?"
With a jolt, he brought himself back to the real world. "Yes, Thena, what is it?"
"The governor-general's on the line. Says it's important."
Corwin flicked another glance at his clock. "He always does," he growled. "Oh, all right." He stabbed at the proper button, and Thena's image was replaced by
Chandler's. "Yes?"
Chandler's face looked like he'd been chewing on something not quite ripe. "I've got some bad news for you, Moreau," he said without preamble. "I have here on my desk a petition calling for your brother Justin to be confined until the matter of the Monse shooting can be definitively cleared up. It's been endorsed by seventy-one members of the Cobra Worlds Council."
Corwin felt his face go rigid. Seventy-one members was something like sixty percent-an utterly incredible number. "That's ridiculous," he said. "The whole thing-"
"The whole thing," Chandler cut him off grimly, "has been pulling for more net space than any seven-week-old issue has any right to be getting. In case you haven't noticed, the public rumblings over the whole mess never completely vanished; and in the past week or so they've started getting louder again."
Corwin gritted his teeth hard enough to hurt. Preoccupied with arrangements and details for the Qasama mission, he hadn't had time to keep up with the ebb and flow of Aventinian public opinion. But then why hadn't Justin or Joshua or someone else pointed it out to him-?
Because they hadn't wanted him to worry, of course. And so, while he'd been busy looking the other way, Priesly's gang had been busy weaving an encirclement.
But maybe it still wasn't too late to fight back. A petition, even one from the
Cobra Worlds Council, wasn't legally binding on the governor-general's actions.
If he could get Chandler on his side... or at least onto neutral... "Since you're calling me about it," he said carefully, "do I presume you intend to comply with their demand?"
Chandler's eyes flashed. "It's hardly a demand, Moreau-I can ignore the thing entirely if I choose to do so. The question really boils down to whether or not you're worth bucking this kind of public opinion for."
"Or in other words, why risk political fallout over a governor who's on his way out anyway?" Corwin asked softly.
Chandler at least had the grace to look uncomfortable. "It's not like that," he muttered. "Whatever happens with your niece on Qasama doesn't change the fact that you are at present a full Aventinian governor."
"True," Corwin nodded. "Not to mention the possibility that Jin may actually do so well out there that I won't have to resign in the first place."
"I suppose that's possible," Chandler conceded. "Hardly likely, though."
Corwin shrugged. Despite his words, it was clear from Chandler's manner that he felt awkward about writing Corwin off without cause. It gave Corwin a psychological lever-a weak one, but the best he was likely to get. "I presume you'll be ordering Justin into house arrest, then?" he asked. "Surely there's no need to put him in an actual prison."
Chandler's eyes bored into his. "It might be enough to satisfy them," he said evenly. "Suppose someone suggests that he's potentially a threat to the community and ought to be somewhere more secure?"
"You could counter by asking this person where the hell he thinks would be a safe place to incarcerate a Cobra who doesn't want to stay put," Corwin told him. "Or point out the obvious fact that Justin's not a danger to anyone who isn't threatening him. Alternatively, if this person's on the Directorate and privy to such information, you could just point out that the use of that Troft shuttle for the Qasaman mission might be in jeopardy if Speaker One finds out you've locked up a Moreau."