“I didn’t know that.”
“Neither did most of us, but Commodore Favager of Nova Tahiti recognized it. Got quite excited about it.”
Clemence Favager was an Old Earth nut. Ean could imagine her getting excited about the use of old technology.
“They were taking a risk all the same,” Sale said. “We know ships physically bonded together can jump through the void, but an electromagnetic bond. I wouldn’t want to be the first to try it. I’d be worried the bond would break in the void.”
Jakob didn’t seem the sort who left things like that to chance. “They had probably already tested it.”
Sale nodded. “How did they get onto the scout ship?”
“Three of the people with Jakob were linesmen. The ship was happy to let them on.” It wasn’t the place or the time, but, “The ships need people, Sale. They’ll start choosing their own soon.”
“Tell that to the admirals, Ean. There’s no use telling me.”
Sale needed to know because she was one of the people the ships were choosing.
Ean continued with what had happened. “The jump was in ten minutes, and the Eleven was four hours away. I couldn’t stop the jump.”
“Not even with line eight?”
“I don’t know how to do it, Sale. I didn’t know what to ask. I couldn’t get it to understand.” Maybe he should have insisted.
Sale put up a hand to stop the flow of words. “It’s fine. What happened next?”
Ean blew out his breath. He didn’t like to admit the next bit. “The trainees aren’t used to training yet. And I’m not—” Sale knew he’d been having trouble; otherwise, she wouldn’t have said what she’d said about Peters the other day. “I wanted to stop the jump, and I wanted to move the Iolo closer to the Eleven fleet. Which meant a cold jump, but Rossi—” He took a deep breath, forced his voice even and smooth. “He doesn’t like cold jumps any more than the captains do, and he… tried to stop me.”
“By stealing Bhaksir’s blaster and firing at you?”
He nodded. “Only Rossi’s a famous ten, so when Bhaksir tried to stop him, the other linesmen came in to protect him.”
“I see.”
Sale had the same direct way of looking that Abram and Michelle did, as if she could see right through you.
“Gruen and I will talk to the admirals,” Sale said. “You’re lucky they have other things to think about today.”
“Thank you.”
Sale turned away from the boards and looked directly at him. “When you’re out of your depth, Ean, you have to learn to ask for help.”
“I can manage.”
“You can’t manage. We have a ship on lockdown because you insist on doing everything yourself. We have a linesman who nearly got his leg shot off.”
He’d spent an hour in regen. His leg still itched, but it was fine.
“Another one with a broken wrist, one with concussion, and five with various laser burns. Four people were arrested.”
What could he say to that?
“Worse, we have to explain to the admirals of the other military forces what happened.”
“I’m sorry.”
This time it was Sale who sighed. “Don’t be, Ean. It’s as much my fault as it is yours. I knew you were having problems. I should have done something about it.”
“You’re not responsible for me.”
“Somebody has to look after you while Radko’s not here to do it.”
Radko’s job was to protect Ean from would-be murderers and kidnappers, not from his own inability to control the trainees.
He was glad his comms chimed then, with a message from Abram. He was to address the council meeting the following day. Even gladder Abram had made it soon.
“If you were a soldier and couldn’t fire a blaster, Ean, you wouldn’t be expected to teach yourself. Your team leader would help out, ensuring you had remedial help.”
He couldn’t fire a blaster, and it was one thing Radko had never shown him. He’d asked her once if she was going to. She’d said, “Ean, your weapons are the lines.”
“Maybe you should teach me how to use a blaster.”
“Are you changing the subject, Ean?”
“No.” Maybe. He wasn’t sure. “What do I do about the line trainees?”
“Let’s see who gets involved before we decide.” The shuttle sounded for landing. Sale strapped herself in. “Meantime, we have to survive this supper first.”
The ship welcomed them. Ean sang his own song of welcome as he followed Sale down the corridor. He checked the ship while he did so. Captain Helmo was on the bridge. He felt—or heard—Ean’s regard, and nodded. Commodore Vega was at shuttle bay five, waiting for a shuttle to dock.
Commodore Bach, the Emperor’s head of security and Vega’s equivalent, was in the foyer of Yu’s apartment, talking into his comms.
“Everything is in hand, Lord Renaud. I assure you. I have set my staff to attend to it personally.” He glanced at Ean and Sale. “You will excuse me, Lord Renaud, but I must attend His Imperial Majesty.” He swiped off, then swiped the comms open again. The woman at the other end wore a Lancian uniform, with the same braid Ean had on his own shoulders. “Find out who assigned Yves Han to a covert operation. I want their head on my desk, tomorrow morning.”
“Do we rescue Han the Younger?”
“What we do is damage control. And hope certain people never hear about it.” Bach swiped off, then looked at Sale and Ean.
“Emperor Yu requested the presence of Linesman Lambert at supper, sir,” Sale said.
Bach looked at her epaulettes. “And he’s delivered by a group leader.”
“Yes, sir. It’s a good opportunity to debrief in private.”
Bach nodded. “I heard about today. What started it?”
“Started it, sir?” Sale looked as mystified as Ean felt. “Captain Jakob attempting to steal the ship.”
“The lockdown of linesmen.”
He shouldn’t have known about that. It was Abram’s area, not Bach’s. Not even Vega’s, although she knew.
“That.” Sale waved a dismissive hand. “You know linesmen. They come in thinking they’re the galaxy’s gift. We’re teaching them new methods. It takes time to adapt. They don’t like change.”
Sale was as talented at dissembling as Abram and Michelle. Ean hid his smile.
“So they always do this?”
“This time was a little extreme. But there were reasons.” Sale saluted. “It’s in my report if you wish to read it. But, sir, I must deliver the linesman to supper. If you will excuse me.”
“Of course.” Bach stepped aside to let them enter. He followed them in.
The walls on the Emperor’s entertaining room were covered with TransScreen, a product that had come onto the market just before Michelle had purchased Ean’s contract. TransScreen had a smooth surface that showed whatever was sent through to its controllers. This particular sheet depicted a 360-degree panorama of somewhere on Lancia, for the sky had a distinctive purple tinge. Ean could hear the feed from line five as a constant stream, and as he watched, a shuttle zoomed high across the sky. A delayed real-time send, he guessed.
How magnificent would it be to switch the view to the cameras on the outside of the Lancastrian Princess? You’d really feel you were in space then.
Or maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. Ean didn’t like to remember there was only a wall between him and the stars.
He wasn’t the only guest. Sattur Dow was there, as was the Factor of the Lesser Gods. Plus assorted support staff. Some of Yu’s, some of the Factor’s, some of Sattur Dow’s. Ean recognized Ethan Saylor, the youth who continually called Vega wanting to talk to Radko.