Governor Jade of Aratoga stepped out next, then the Factor of the Lesser Gods. It was hard to pick who wore the most gold jewelry. The Factor was followed by his bodyguards—six of them—and after him, Abram.
The Lancastrian soldiers on board the Confluence saluted. Ean didn’t.
One of the bodyguards was smiling.
The Factor moved up to where Governor Jade halted.
“Linesman,” Governor Jade said to Ean, and the chill that had come in with the visitors rolled away with the warmth of her words. “Allow me to present the Factor of the Lesser Gods. Factor, this is Linesman Ean Lambert, leading linesman for the New Alliance.”
“Welcome to the Confluence,” Ean said.
Abram nodded at Ean, as if he was supposed to be there. Ean was relieved.
“A ten.” The Factor glanced at the bars on Ean’s shirt. “I thought all the higher-level linesmen worked with Gate Union.”
Ean didn’t need the lines to know he was lying. It was common knowledge that both Ean’s contract and Jordan Rossi’s belonged to the New Alliance.
“We have two level-ten linesmen working with the New Alliance.” You couldn’t hear the smile in Abram’s voice, but it came through clearly on Confluence line one.
Abram wasn’t lying, for if you took Ean to be a level twelve they still had two other tens. Jordan Rossi and Ami Hernandez. Not that Grand Master Rickenback had certified Hernandez yet. For the moment, Admiral Katida preferred that no one knew the Balians had a ten as well.
Abram indicated the cart that waited for them.
Sale didn’t like the cart. She made her crew march to the bridge most days. “If you exercise while you’re here,” she’d said once, “you don’t need to go back to ship and spend hours in the gym.”
Ean thought it was because the Confluence didn’t like the cart, but he’d never told Sale that. The Confluence didn’t see the point of the cart. “Not need. Faster,” and showed an image of something that looked like a pipe. He’d drawn a picture of the image and shown it to Sale, who’d shaken her head. She’d not seen anything like it. Maybe Ean had misinterpreted the image. Whatever it was, one day he’d find it. Or Sale would.
The cart was a long box with an electronic motor at the front, a seat for a driver—Craik—and a long, flat tray at the back others could stand or sit on. A raised bar along the center allowed you to hold on.
“I hate these things,” Governor Jade said, stepping on and gripping tight. Two of Craik’s team stepped up either side of her. The others stepped on as well, all except the bodyguard who’d been smiling.
His face was alight with wonder.
A linesman, though he didn’t have bars on his shirt.
Confluence line eleven surged—not Ean’s doing.
The linesman gasped and tried to breathe. Sale reached for the nearest oxygen with a scowl, while Craik and Losan stretched the linesman out on the floor. Craik placed the oxygen mask over the man’s face.
Abram’s voice was hard. “There is a reason we asked you not to include linesmen in your party.”
“A linesman.” The Factor looked bemused. “Surely you are mistaken.” The overriding emotion emanating from him was irritation rather than surprise. He glanced at the bodyguard beside him.
The bodyguard’s nod was so slight, Ean wondered if he had imagined it, but he’d had a lot of practice lately interpreting the secret deals people in power made. He recognized an agreement when he almost didn’t see it.
“Our linesmen undergo rigorous training before we allow them on board the alien line ships,” Orsaya said. “The lines are too strong for them. We need to acclimate them first. Without that training, the strength of the alien lines can be incapacitating on occasion.”
Training Ean should have been conducting right now. Hernandez was berating the linesmen for their sloppy responses. Or she had been, until the surge of line eleven. Now she was waiting for the paramedics to declare everyone all right. It was another new batch of paramedics. Ean would be glad when they were all trained. He hadn’t realized how much they had come to rely on the paramedics Abram had supplied, or how skilled those paramedics had become.
“Given that this gentleman is here without bars on his shirt”—Orsaya indicated the linesman on the floor—“one can only assume he is here dishonestly.” She looked directly at the Factor as she said it.
“So it would seem.” The Factor frowned down at the gasping linesman.
“I take full responsibility for this.” The bodyguard looked at the Factor. “My apologies for the deception, sir. I was aware of what this man was. I’d heard about the ban. I thought it was a security measure. I didn’t realize it was for their own safety.”
He couldn’t say anything else, could he. Not if the Factor still wanted to see the ship.
“I am disappointed in you, Captain Jakob,” the Factor said. “We had strict instructions to bring no linesmen.”
Jakob bowed in apology.
If it had been Michelle in the Factor’s place, she would have admitted she’d been part of it and not made Abram—for Ean was sure from the way he moved and spoke that Jakob was more than a simple bodyguard—take the blame.
The linesman improved enough for Sale to help him sit up. “The confluence. I thought it had gone. It’s… amazing.”
Ean knelt beside the other man. “Linesman?” He made it a question.
“Glenn. Linesman Glenn. House of Sandhurst. Level seven.” It was an automatic reply, one linesman to another.
Ean hid the disquiet the information gave him. Linesmen level seven and above remained with the cartel houses. They also wore house colors. The fact that Glenn hadn’t meant what?
“How do you feel?”
“I’m fine, I think.” Glenn smiled again. “I was at the confluence, but it was nothing like this.”
Sometimes, it seemed to Ean that he was the only linesman who’d never visited the Confluence back when no one had known it was a ship trapped in the void. “Good.” He stood up. Based on his experience with linesmen, Glenn would be fine.
“The linesman stays with the shuttle,” Orsaya said. “The stronger lines on the bridge could kill him. We had an incident yesterday where the lines accidentally killed a linesman.”
The Factor nodded, as did Governor Jade. News traveled fast.
“So how dangerous are these ships?”
“You saw the news the other night, Factor,” Governor Jade said. “Deadly, I’d say.”
“To their own side, I mean.”
“Dangerous,” Ean said, because he wanted them to realize that.
“Dangerous and deadly.”Confluence’s lines sounded smug.
There might have been a bit of miscommunication there. Not to its own side, surely. “Surely that’s not how you want to be thought of?” But he’d forgotten, this was a warship.
He’d also forgotten he hadn’t planned on singing in front of the Factor.
“The singing, Linesman?” the Factor asked. “What does that signify?”
He’d jumped on a single tune very fast. Almost as if he’d been waiting for a song so he could ask the question. How much did he know?
“Are you kidding?” Linesman Glenn said. “That’s Crazy Ean Lambert. He always sings.”
“Sings?” the Factor asked. Did Ean imagine it, or was it taking an effort to keep up the friendly facade?
“And he’s famous right now,” Glenn said. “Because the New Alliance is so desperate for tens, Lady Lyan paid millions of credits for him. Even though he sings. The linesmen are still talking about it.” He looked at Ean. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”