“I don’t think that’s going to stop him,” Ru Li murmured.
He got a sharp glance from Ryley. “Or your friends.”
“I am a linesman. My responsibility is the welfare of the lines on this station.”
“Jordan Rossi looks after the lines on station.”
He did. And he was doing a good job. Say what you might about Rossi, where lines were concerned, he delivered. Especially now he’d started singing to them.
“And as for being a linesman,” Ryley said. “I spent six months on this station with linesmen like you.” He glanced contemptuously at the ten bars above Ean’s pocket. “Not one of you lifted a finger to do any work on the lines in all that time.”
Ean bit his tongue, so he didn’t say that Rossi had been one of the linesman here then, and he hadn’t.
“This is our linesman,” Ru Li said. “He’s not like the others.”
“I don’t want to see you down here again,” Ryley said. “If I do, you can be sure I’ll have a word with your team leader.” He looked at the bars on Ean’s shirt. “Or your cartel master.”
“Thank you for your time.” Ean led the way back, aware of Ryley, staring after them, a little cloud of purple unease.
“That seemed pointless,” Ru Li said. “Bhaksir’s right. Couldn’t you have done that through the comms?”
“No.” Because what would he have learned through the comms? Nothing. Instead, he now had a strong sense of the man who controlled the station.
Back in his temporary new home, Ean called Abram. He made the line secure from habit although today he could feel something tapping at the edges, asking to be let in. It was a familiar sound—the Lancastrian Princess — and for a moment Ean almost let it hook in.
Except… why was the Lancastrian Princess listening in?
“How are you, Ean?” Abram asked.
Ean held up a hand to silence him and sent a quick query down to Lancastrian Princess’s line eight. Was the ship asking to listen in?
“No.”
He followed the tentative whisper of sound back. It was on the Lancastrian Princess. There. And there.
By now Helmo had heard what was happening, and the sudden surge of fury—they were doing this on his ship, his beautifully protected ship—galvanized line eight.
Eight surged. The lines trying to listen in disappeared.
Ean’s comms chimed. Helmo. He sang Helmo into the connection with Abram.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m checking to see if the lines are secure now,” Ean said.
He sang every single line on the Lancastrian Princess and got answers from them all. There was no untoward activity. He sang to the other lines in the fleet. Nothing on the Wendell, nothing on the Kari Wang, nothing from Confluence Station. There were two illegal comms on the Gruen. Both of them with trainees. Ean got the Gruen to short them out. The media ships were sending to their usual spies, but nothing that the New Alliance wasn’t aware of.
“All clean,” he said, eventually. “The Lancastrian Princess was the only affected ship.”
Helmo, his arms crossed, looked and sounded the unhappiest Ean had ever seen him. “Our security is usually good.”
“Yes,” Abram said. “I almost wish you hadn’t destroyed them. I suspect if we’d been able to investigate the codes, we’d find they came out of Palace Security. No one else would have been able to slip anything in.”
Palace Security. Vega was Palace Security. But then, Ean realized after one horrified moment, so was Commodore Bach.
“Bach is spying on you?”
“He won’t be doing it without a specific request.” Abram’s tone was grim.
“Yu?”
“Yes. Spying on his daughter.”
“I’ll ask Vega to investigate,” Helmo said, and Abram nodded.
Ean said, “I’ll ask the ship to let you know if it happens again, Helmo.”
“Thank you.”
After he clicked off, Ean realized he hadn’t talked to Abram about Confluence Station. Or about Sale.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: EAN LAMBERT
After the discovery of the Confluence fleet, the Alliance—as it had been then—had taken control of Confluence Station, and the New Alliance had used it for a temporary headquarters until they’d moved to Haladea III. Most people believed it had been handed back to its former owners afterward, and that its owners had continued to lease it out. After all, it wasn’t needed at the confluence anymore. There was nothing there now.
They were wrong. The station was an official spoil of war, and though Patten and his staff retained corporate dress, they were employed by the combined governments of the New Alliance. The governance fleet, Kari Wang had called it. It was an appropriate name.
Access to the station was restricted.
The Factor requested permission for Captain Jakob to meet with Linesman Rossi. Orsaya couldn’t see it, but Jakob was with the Factor, sitting out of sight of the screen.
Ean heard the request, for he was listening carefully to all comms to and from the Lancastrian Princess. And Orsaya’s frosty reply.
“Our linesmen are busy, Factor. It might have escaped your notice, but we have a lot of ships to repair and limited access to cartel linesmen. I cannot approve of anything that takes them away from their work. Especially not Linesman Rossi, who is one of only two tens we have available.”
“Admiral Orsaya, why not let Jakob tag along when Linesman Rossi is repairing lines, then. That way, he could work while they talked.” The Factor’s smile was meant to charm, Ean could tell.
“I have just explained, Factor. He is busy. I don’t need him distracted by foolish questions.”
“I am sure they wouldn’t be foolish questions, Admiral.”
“To a linesman, talking to a nonlinesman, every question about lines is foolish. Or haven’t you noticed.”
“We would not annoy him.”
Orsaya snorted. “Everything annoys him.”
“Surely one visit.”
“Factor. There is a war on, and every single member of the New Alliance wants access to my linesman. I am pleased he is popular, but tell me why I should put you ahead of them?”
She clicked off.
She didn’t see the expression the Factor made afterward. Ean did.
“I doubt you’ll charm that one,” Jakob said.
“If she didn’t have a linesman, I wouldn’t care.”
Ean should let Orsaya know about this conversation. Or maybe Vega would, for she was listening as well.
“She won’t be a problem,” the Factor said. “We can get at Rossi anytime, no matter what she says. I am sure you can get to Confluence Station. We only need to find out when he’s there.”
Jakob nodded. “What about line training? He assists there, doesn’t he? Why don’t we go along to that? It should be easier.”
Not if Ean had anything to do with it.
It wasn’t the only conversation Vega was listening to. She was listening in on Michelle, entertaining Sattur Dow in one of the VIP lounges. Vega looked to be giving that conversation more attention.
“I had thought to see my betrothed here.”
“My cousin Dominique?”
“Yes.”
“Sattur.” It was strange to hear him called by his first name. Ean had never heard him referred to as anything but his surname or his full name. Even the media used his full name. “Dominique is a soldier. You need to talk to her commanding officer, Commodore Vega.”