The voice faded. Horza switched off the machine in the silence. He put it down where he had found it, and rubbed the ring on the small finger of his right hand. Then he took off the robe and put his — his — suit on. It started talking to him; he told it to turn its voice off.
He looked at himself in the reverser field on the locker doors, drew himself up, made sure the plasma pistol strapped to his thigh was switched on, pushed the pains and tiredness to the back of his mind, then went out of the cabin and up the corridor to the mess.
Yalson and the woman who was Balveda were sitting talking in the long room, at the far end of the table under the screen, which had been turned off. They looked up when he came in. He went over and sat a couple of seats down from Yalson, who looked at his suit and said, “We going somewhere?”
“Maybe,” Horza said, looking briefly at her, then switching his gaze to the Balveda woman, smiling and saying, “I’m sorry, Ms Gravant; but I’m afraid, having reconsidered your application, I have to turn you down. I’m sorry, but there’s no place for you on the CAT. I hope you understand.” He clasped his hands on the table and grinned again. Balveda — the more he looked the surer he was that it was her — looked crestfallen. Her mouth opened slightly; she looked from Horza to Yalson then back again. Yalson was frowning deeply.
“But—” Balveda began.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Yalson said angrily. “You can’t just—”
“You see,” Horza smiled, “I’ve decided that we need to cut down on the numbers on board, and—”
“What?” Yalson exploded, slapping the table with the palm of her hand. “That’s six of us left! What the hell are six of us meant to do…?” Her voice trailed off, then came back lower and slower, her head twisting to one side, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him. “…Or have we just struck lucky in… oh, a game of chance perhaps, and don’t want to cut in more directions than absolutely necessary?”
Horza looked briefly at Yalson again, smiled and said, “No, but you see I’ve just re-hired one of our ex-members, and that does alter the plans a bit… The place I had intended to slot Ms Gravant into in the ship’s company is now filled.”
“You got Jandraligeli to come back, after what you called him?” laughed Yalson, stretching back in her seat.
Horza shook his head.
“No, my dear,” he said. “As I would have been able to tell you if you hadn’t kept interrupting, I just met our friend Mr Gobuchul in Evanauth, and he’s keen to rejoin.”
“Horza?” Yalson seemed to shake a little, her voice on an edge of tension, and he could see her trying to control herself. Oh gods, a small voice inside him said, why does this hurt so much? Yalson said, “Is he alive? Are you sure it was him? Kraiklyn, are you?”
Horza switched his gaze rapidly from one woman to the other. Yalson was leaning forward over the table, her eyes glittering in the mess-room light, her fists clenched. Her lean body seemed tensed, the golden down on her dark skin shining. Balveda looked uncertain and confused. Horza saw her start to bite her lip, then stop.
“I wouldn’t kid you about it, Yalson,” Horza assured her. “Horza is alive and well, and not very far away.” Horza looked at the repeater screen on his suit cuff, where the time showed. “As a matter of fact, I’m meeting him at one of the port reception spheres in… well, just before the GSV takes off. He said he had one or two things to work out in the city first. He said to say… ahhh… he hoped you were still betting on him…” He shrugged. “Something like that.”
“You’re not kidding!” Yalson said, her face creasing with a smile. She shook her head, put a hand through her hair, slapped the table softly a couple of times. “Oh…” she said, then sat back again in her seat. She looked from the woman to the man and shrugged, silent.
“So you see, Gravant, you just aren’t needed right now,” Horza told Balveda. The Culture agent opened her mouth, but it was Yalson who spoke first, coughing quickly and then saying.
“Oh, let her stay, Kraiklyn. What difference does it make?”
“The difference, Yalson,” Horza said carefully, thinking hard about Kraiklyn, “is that I am captain of this ship.”
Yalson seemed about to say something, but instead she turned to Balveda and spread her hands. She sat back, one hand picking at the edge of the table, her eyes lowered. She was trying not to smile too much.
“Well, Captain,” Balveda said, rising from her seat, “you do know best. I’ll get my gear.” She walked quickly from the mess. Her footsteps merged with others, and Horza and Yalson both heard some muffled words. In a moment, Dorolow, Wubslin and Aviger, gaily dressed and looking flushed and happy, piled into the mess, the older man with his arm around the small, plump woman.
“Our captain!” Aviger shouted. Dorolow held one of his hands at her shoulder. She smiled. Wubslin waved dreamily; the stocky engineer looked drunk. “Been at the wars, I see,” Aviger went on, staring at Horza’s face, which still showed signs of being in a fight, despite his internal attempts to minimise the damage.
“What has Gravant done, Kraiklyn?” Dorolow squeaked. She seemed merry, too, and her voice was even higher than he remembered it.
“Nothing,” Horza said, smiling at the three mercenaries. “But we’re getting Horza Gobuchul back from the dead, so I decided we didn’t need her.”
“Horza?” Wubslin said, his large mouth opening wide in an almost exaggerated expression of surprise. Dorolow looked past Horza at Yalson, the look on her face saying, “Is this true?” through her grin. Yalson shrugged and looked happily, hopefully, still slightly suspiciously, at the man she thought was Kraiklyn.
“He’ll be coming aboard shortly before the Ends leaves,” Horza said. “He had some sort of business in the city. Maybe something shady.” Horza smiled in the condescending way Kraiklyn sometimes had. “Who knows?”
“There,” Wubslin said, looking unsteadily at Aviger over Dorolow’s stooped frame. “Maybe that guy was looking for Horza. Maybe we should warn him.”
“What guy? Where?” Horza asked.
“He’s seeing things,” Aviger said, waving one hand. “Too much liverwine.”
“Rubbish!” Wubslin said loudly, looking from Aviger to Horza, and nodding. “And a drone.” He held both hands out in front of his face, palms together, then separated them by about a quarter-metre. “Little bugger. No bigger’n that.”
“Where?” Horza shook his head. “Why do you think somebody might be after Horza?”
“Out there, under the traveltube,” Aviger said, while Wubslin was saying:
“Way he came out of that capsule, like he expected to be in a fight any second, and… aww, I can just tell… that guy was… police… or something…”
“What about Mipp?” asked Dorolow. Horza was silent for a second, frowning at nothing and nobody in particular. “Did Horza mention Mipp?” Dorolow asked him.
“Mipp?” he said, looking at Dorolow. “No.” He shook his head. “No, Mipp didn’t make it.”