“All hands prepare for docking,” said Yerusha’s voice from the intercom. “We made it, Fellows.”
Dobbs could practically feel the sigh of relief from the ship itself. They’d made it. Port Oberon. Maybe not exactly home, but familiar territory. Civilization. Safety.
For everyone but me. She rubbed her eyes and sighed against the free fall straps that held her to her desk chair. What am I going to do?
She barely had the nerve to set foot out of her cabin for the whole week’s trip. She wasn’t a Fool anymore. She couldn’t even make believe that she was. The Guild was hunting her somewhere. Cohen was out of reach. He didn’t even know where she’d gone.
Don’t be an idiot. She bit her lip. He can track the flight path from the ship’s signals. He’ll find out where I am. He’ll get a message to me, or send one by Brooke. By now he’ll have figured out who we can talk to at Guild Hall. This is not the end. This is the beginning.
But Al Shei was expecting her to go to Earth and speak out about Curran. How could she tell Al Shei that was impossible without saying why? After a week of self-imposed isolation, Dobbs still didn’t have answer.
The Pasadena’s crew had assumed her hiding away had to do with the loss of what they saw as her job, and they had all been as understanding as their knowledge would let them be. The Sundars had been in, bringing her food and trying to bully her into the exercise room, but they didn’t issue any orders. She could barely stand to think about the consoling words Lipinski had tried to offer, and how he had suggested she join his staff once things had settled down again. She’d turned him down. She lowered her head into her hand. She was always turning him down.
The world wobbled. The docking trolley must have grabbed them. She could feel the slight tug downwards as it pulled the ship behind it.
“Evelyn Dobbs?”
Dobbs jerked her head up. A man’s voice came through the intercom, but she didn’t recognize it.
“Evelyn Dobbs?” said the stranger’s voice again.
“Yes?” She undid the free fall straps. There was just enough gravity to hold her to the chair. “Who am I addressing?”
There was a brief pause. “Theodore Curran.”
Dobbs heart rose slowly until it filled her throat. A dozen irrational phrases flitted through her mind, like ‘how did you get in here?’ It was obvious her watchdogs were not as good as she thought they were. ‘You’ve got a lot of gall,’ was self-evident and ‘go to hell,’ was useless. She picked the least foolish phrase she could find in her confused mind.
“What do you want?”
She could swear the voice held a smile. “I want to know if you will come with me.”
Dobbs snorted. “After you framed Asil Tamruc? You’re fractured.”
“I currently have nothing to fear from Katmer Al Shei,” said Curran softly. “I did not frame her husband.”
Dobbs stared at the intercom. She felt ridiculously isolated. She wanted to get in there, surround him, make him swallow her anger, her disgust. Flesh and bone, and yards of metal kept her trapped, and him safe.
“And if you didn’t, who did?”
“The Fool’s Guild.”
Dobbs’s heart froze and then thumped painfully. A rush of anger burned through her. Before she knew what she was doing, she stumbled across the room, pressing both hands against the intercom, trying reflexively to get to the owner of the voice. The liar. The traitor.
Her hands began to hurt and Dobbs made herself draw back.
“Dobbs?” said Curran again. “Are you still there?”
Her breathing was harsh in her throat. “Intercom to close,” she said flatly.
“You should know better.” There was no hint of jeering in the voice, only a gentle reminder. “You’re not thinking straight. I understand.”
A bitter laugh bubbled out of Dobbs. “You understand what I’m thinking?” She slumped back down in the chair. “That’s the best joke I’ve heard in days.”
“You’ve been betrayed by the Guild that was supposed to protect you.” Curran’s voice was filled with patience. “You think I don’t know how that feels?”
“The Guild hasn’t done anything to me,” said Dobbs, aware both of how petulant she sounded and how badly she was lying. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She ran both hands through her hair. She couldn’t even close herself against this unwelcomed presence. “Leave me alone, Curran. Go away before our Houston finds you and jams a stake through your heart.”
“Dobbs, I am telling you nothing but the truth.” There was sadness in the voice now. “The Fool’s Guild framed Asil Tamruc for fraud. They put your name on the report to keep you busy until they can figure out what to do about you. They wanted Al Shei distracted and discredited. She’s a threat, Dobbs. Because of you she knows far, far too much.”
There was more pain in Dobbs hands. She looked down. She had clenched her hands into fists until her nails cut into her own palms.
She opened her hands and stared at the tiny red crescent moons in her skin. “Go away,” she said again.
“Dobbs, come with me,” said Curran. His voice came closer. She looked at the intercom. Most of him must be right in the ship, probably right behind the wall. She could call for Lipinski. Set the Houston and his dogs on him. She could do it.
Why aren’t I, then? she asked herself. Why?
“There’s so much that needs doing,” he was saying. “If we’re to be free, if you’re to be free. You don’t have to go through this. You don’t have to be humiliated in front of your employers. You don’t have to face whatever the Guild is planning for you. Let me get you out of there.” His voice was low and pleading and she could swear the concern was genuine.
She stiffened herself against it. “You diverted the ship, didn’t you? You reset the clocks so we’d get lost and have to go to the Fool’s Guild to refuel.”
“Yes,” he replied calmly. “I wanted you to see the Guild Masters for what they are; frightened, petty and interested only in protecting their own power. Havelock especially. I wanted you to have the truth.”
Something inside Dobbs snapped in two. “You almost got me killed!”
Curran didn’t miss a beat. “I knew Cohen would help you escape. I’ve been watching him for a long time too, but I haven’t found a way to approach him yet. I hope after you’ve come with us that you will speak to him.” He paused. “Incidentally, if he hadn’t gotten you out, I would have.”
Dobbs stared at the intercom. “Why would you care?”
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” The voice sounded more distant now, as if he had pulled back from her barbed question.
Dobbs felt the corner of her mouth twitch. “You’re one of the Guild founders. Beyond that, I don’t know. I didn’t have a whole lot of time to check your file.”
“No, I suppose not.” The voice came close again. Dobbs reached out reflexively. I could still do it. Write a note on the board to Lipinski, alert Al Shei.
And if he hasn’t got all the lines out of this cabin monitored, he’s an idiot. Dobbs let her hand drop.
“One of the founders, yes, I am…I was,” he corrected himself. “One of the original Guild Masters. I was found three months after Hal Clarke was borne. I worked with the Guild through most of its history. I helped build Guild Hall. I hunted out others of our kind. I helped give them bodies and trained them to go out among the Humans.” The slow heavy bitterness she had heard earlier crept back into his voice. “It took me the better part of two centuries to see that the idea of waiting out human fear and using the Fool’s Guild as a teaching tool was doomed from the start.”
Dobbs forced her sore hands to keep still. “Doomed? Ye of little faith, Theodore Curran.”