81
Each person believes in self-uniqueness: snowflakes are equally unique.
The year turned, and the snow fell, and the lake froze, and my name did not appear on the schedule board. I managed links to Erelya twice, and the senior captain was most polite and mostly not very informative.
'We've verified the information, Tyndel, and your status is under review.'
That was the gist of what she'd said - twice. So I kept working out, in the gym, in the pool, and running through the deep snow that continued to fall.
Cerrelle's name showed up on another board, one that sent her off to Vanirel, looking in on another demon convert, this time from Thule. Vanirel - home of Fersonne, who'd only wanted her own place on Actean. Vanirel ... another cold land, colder even than Rykasha - or really the region of Rykasha where I was, since the cold lands of Amnord and Thule were components of Rykasha.
I missed Cerrelle, but I kept telling myself that she had more than me to worry about ... especially since it had been established that I was a Web pilot who knew what he was doing. With my schedule and the winter and the snow, I hadn't done much on the garden besides finish the back stone wall and place a couple of yews. So we conversed on the link when we could - not exactly satisfactorily.
Vanirel - I no sooner decided that I'd take a trip to see her when the screen chimed and I found myself facing Erelya through the screen at Cerrelle's chalet.
'Yes, ser?'
'Are you ready to take another run, Tyndel?'
'Yes, ser. What changed everyone's minds?'
A wintry smile cracked her face. 'The fact that nothing's happened. The fact that needle ships continue to depart and return.'
'Any more messages from ... our entity?' I asked. 'A few hints, but only hints.'
'So... now that Rykashan interstellar travel isn't instantly threatened—' I broke off, realizing that she'd been on my side. It had largely been commander Krigisa who'd put me on the shelf. 'I'm sorry.'
'Quite understandable, Tyndel. You were honest, and shelved, and the word apparently got out.' The smile got colder, although I didn't feel it was directed at me. 'So I thought it might be time for you to take another run. We need your talents anyway.'
'What run?'
'Epsilon Cygni, over the Trough with some very heavy cargo. In four days. You up to that?'
'Yes, sen' For many reasons, I couldn't say no, especially with what Erelya had conveyed indirectly, but I wanted a little confirmation. 'You say there's been some discrepancy between the medical reviews and the flight reports?'
'I didn't say that, Tyndel. That's strictly your conclusion.' An ironic smile followed. 'It is difficult to hide something from a Dzin master. That's why I want you piloting the Mambrino on this run.' The emphasis on the pronoun T was there, but so slight as to be almost unnoticed.
I nodded. Til do my best.'
'And, Tyndel...'
'Yes, ser?'
You have to pass a long medical this time. You'll need to be in Runswi by noon of the day before. I doubt it will be a problem, but the commander insisted.'
I understood that... and more. So ... rather than take a suborbital magshuttle to Vanirel, I ended up two days later in Runswi, where doctors Fionya and Bekunin applied every examination technique they could find. Apparently, they couldn't find anything wrong, because the next morning I was on an orbital to Earth Orbit Two.
Once on the station, my first stop was the ready room, too gray for my taste, but in recent years, gray had become less and less intriguing.
Berya was tight-faced and turned when I appeared, pursing her lips before speaking. 'Tyndel.'
Now, former ignorant Dorchan or not, former would-be Dzin master, I could tell she was less than happy. 'Good morning, Berya. Anything interesting?'
A special Epsilon Cygni run... and Alek muttering about mass. He never mutters.'
'Captain Erelya said it was heavy cargo. She didn't say what. You want to tell me what sort of heavy cargo?' I forced a grin. 'Or is the captain the last to know?' E. Cygni was a tough run because it was a stiff climb, almost the opposite of the Santerene insertion, well above the insertion gradients. I'd seen it well enough from the other side, and hadn't been in any hurry to go the hard way.
'Fusactor spines.' Berya offered a wry smile that faded quickly. 'I'm glad it's you, Tyndel.'
I gave a short nod. 'I need to talk to Alek ... if he's muttering.'
'He's not on the ship ... he's in station ops.'
I lurried and headed back up the transverse shafts, back to the gray casern of operations. Alek was standing in the hatchway to operations, talking to a thin figure with an oily smile.
'Captain... this is Ensor, assistant ops officer. He's standing in for commander Krigisa.'
I nodded. That figured. Krigisa didn't want to see me, because if something went wrong, then the blame would go to Erelya and Ensor.
'I've heard about you, captain Tyndel' Ensor's voice was as oily as his lank brown hair and his unvarying smile.
'Fusactor spines?' I managed to keep my voice level, angered as I was at the oily assistant ops officer, and surprised as I was to find the anger there. Why was I upset? Because of the politics? Because it went against my feeling that honesty was important to Rykasha?
'They need an entire power net on Ballentir.' Ensor shrugged. 'Just discovered an incipient flare pattern, and they want to salvage what they can. And ... as you know ... needle transport has become slightly less certain ... recently.'
'Why us?' I knew the answer, but I wanted to see how Ensor reacted.
'Captain Tyndel, they're worried about time. Besides, the Mambrino's the only ship this side of the Trough that's free. The Costigan's never been the same since that problem it had going to Omega Eridani. And we never did get enough fusactor equipment to Nabata. You may recall that.'
'Thank you.' I managed a polite nod. From body posture and voice tone, it was clear that Ensor had been kept in the dark. I'd been there when the Costigan had barely survived a singularity, but wondered if Ensor knew I knew.
The station's junior operations officer smiled tightly. 'If you're not up to handling Epsilon Cygni, I could call in someone else, a senior pilot like captain Sesehna. Or talk to commander Krigisa.'
'I'll handle it.' The last thing in the universe I wanted was to ask for help from Sesehna or Erelya.
The tightness around Alek's green eyes and narrow mouth eased. Ensor kept grinning.
Fusactor spines? Was I wrong to take the insertion? Berya and Alek deserved my best, but was it good enough to take spines across the Trough? Good enough to act as bait for Erelya before Engee lured or otherwise distracted another needle jockey?
'You're sure? You're new at this,' Ensor pointed out.
'I've been at it long enough.' I looked at Alek. 'You ready to go?'
'Yes, ser.'
'Good to meet you, Ensor,' I lied, knowing he knew I lied.
'And you, too, captain.' He cared even less for me than I did for him.
'What were you talking to ... Ensor about?' I asked Alek as we headed back down the shaft. 'How much mass they're loading onto us?'
Alek's mouth quirked. 'I told him you wouldn't be happy if he loaded spine cases in the passenger compartment.'
'You were right.'
'He backed off. I think it was his idea, not the commander's.'
We were nearly back to the Mambrino, locked on the lower ring, beside the Costigan, before the third spoke again. 'The spines weren't my idea, Tyndel. I didn't volunteer us.'