The blind man laughed, his stout face creasing into a merry smile. “The tamghachi have left this whole province hungry-or so they tell me in the inns, when there is nothing to eat.” He settled down on a little bench, head bowed over his cane.
Outside, the drumming sound of the rain was supplemented-then replaced-by the rattle of hooves on the metaled road. At first one horse, then a dozen. “Hm.” The blind man dug vigorously at one ear with a blunt finger. “Someone is coming in a great hurry. I wonder-could it be the militia? I’ve heard there is a murderer loose-he slew a tax collector some days ago.”
“Interesting.” Musashi yawned, hands behind his head. “But the militia does not ride war horses.”
Hadeishi awoke to find a sandy-haired man with knight-commander’s tabs standing beside his gurney. The familiar sounds and smells of medbay surrounded them, and De Molay was loitering behind the Templar. Her gray eyes wrinkled up in amusement at the look on Hadeishi’s face when he recognized Ketcham.
“You were in a bad way the last time I saw you, Chu-sa Hadeishi,” the European observed.
Mitsuharu smiled wryly. “Aside from far too much radiation exposure, I believe my wounds are only of the heart, Pr?ceptor Ketcham. You found another ship, I see, and one better suited to you than wildcatting with an illegal ore refinery.”
“I did.” Ketcham scratched the back of his head, failing to suppress a huge grin. “You seem to have gotten back into the hot-chair, too, by hook and by crook.”
“By stealing my ship,” De Molay grumbled. Her good humor made the elderly woman seem a dozen years younger. “Twice!”
“I returned it,” Hadeishi said quietly. He looked around the room, hoping for a comm panel.
“Much the worse for wear!” De Molay objected, jutting out her chin pugnaciously.
“He has that way.” Ketcham laughed. “You will want to know, Chu-sa , that Commander Kosho is well, though busy aboard her ship, which is somewhat… battered. We intend to ship your men across to the Naniwa as soon as she has atmosphere restored on all decks, and proper facilities prepared.”
Mitsuharu felt his heart ease at the news of the battle-cruiser’s survival and lay easier on the gurney. “Then I can sleep at last.”
He closed his eyes, feeling the tug of tremendous weariness, and wondered idly if it were possible for him to sleep for a full week. Then he sat up again, frowning at the two Templars. They had not moved, and were waiting for him expectantly.
“My men, you say, to the Naniwa. Where am I bound, if not with them?”
De Molay produced a data crystal, bound with gold and white bands. “If you recall, Chu-sa Hadeishi, you signed aboard the merchanter Wilful as an engineer’s mate. After W ilful ’s unhappy experience with marauding Khaid, you assumed emergency captaincy until such time as you engineered the capture of the Khaiden light cruiser Kader. You served as de facto captain aboard her until the vessel was evacuated. From our point of view, you are still captain of the Kader, but her fate is yet to be decided. And you are still our employee, bound by contract. One possibility is to scuttle the cruiser and add her remains to the debris along the Barrier. Another is to affect sufficient repairs to allow transit to the nearest Temple shipyard where she may either be reborn, or recycled. In any case, she is your charge. These orders-” She tapped a fingernail against the crystal. “Affirm your employment and responsibilities.”
De Molay reached for his hand and closed his thin, newly scrubbed fingers over the crystal. It seemed tremendously heavy, possessing a weight in his mind far in excess of the tiny dimensions.
Hadeishi’s glance shifted to Ketcham. “What time is it and when does the next watch begin?”
De Molay turned a snort of laughter into a sneeze.
Ketcham shook his head, putting on a forbidding expression. “You, Chu-sa, are on medbay time. Down here, I’m XO of the Pilgrim in name only. When the Infirmarian lets you go, you can take your duty station. Until then-well, you’ll have time to sleep at last.”
Aboard the Naniwa in company of the Pilgrim and her support flotilla
Chu-sa Kosho nodded in greeting to the two Imperial marines standing watch outside medbay pod twenty-seven, and then stepped inside without a pause, followed by Kikan-shi Helsdon. The pressurized door whispered shut behind them and Susan paused a moment, letting the portal seal, before turning around, hands clasped behind her back. The Naniwa ’s commander looked civilized again-she’d had a shower, been out of her z-armor for nearly a day, and gotten a few hours of sleep. Helsdon, now sitting nervously in a corner chair, looked little different than usual. The engineering teams had been working around the clock to repair secondary hull damage and return normal living conditions to the hab rings and command compartments.
“Anderssen- tzin, good afternoon.”
Gretchen looked up from her field comp, face mottled with bruises, her tangled blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Her bare arms and neck were shining with quickheal, and her ruined civilian z-armor had been replaced by a matte black Fleet skinsuit while she remained in medbay. She was sitting on a bed of crates, spare insulation, and blankets-the regular pod bed had been moved somewhere else. A portable lamp hung from the ceiling, shedding a bluish-white glow. On her field comp’s screen, a relayed feed from the main navigational array was unspooling, showing the singularity and its attendant stars. The icon of the Sunflower was nowhere to be seen.
“It’s gone.” The Swedish woman set the comp down, shoulders slumping in weariness. “Dragged down by irresistible gravity. The last sanctuary of the Vay’en is no more.”
Kosho glanced to Helsdon, who shook his head in ignorance. The Nisei woman pursed her lips, frowned once, and then tilted her head questioningly at the xenoarchaeologist.
“I do not know who these Vahyyyen might be, but I am very interested in determining what happened to Prince Xochitl and Ambassador Sahane. Can you tell me?”
“Oh,” Anderssen blinked, and then rubbed her face, trying to remember. “I had forgotten all about the two boys… they are dead, Captain. One of the Templars shot Xochitl in the face with an assault rifle, and Sahane-well, he was burned alive by a plasma burst and then cut in half. Old Crow, he-” She nodded to herself, feeling light-headed. “He was shot, then stabbed, and then fell down a very, very deep pit. But-but I could not say for certain he perished, not being able to see the bottom of that pit. It was quite deep.”
Susan’s expression congealed into a cold, immobile mask. “My marines found you drifting on a jury-rigged grav-sled outside the artifact, Doctor Anderssen, in the company of a half-dead, blinded Jaguar Knight who had been Cuauhhuehueh of the Prince’s guard detachment. The ship Xochitl commandeered-the Moulins -has disappeared. Do you know what happened to the freighter?”
Gretchen shrugged. “One of the Templars survived the melee with the Prince and his men. He must have taken it out of the landing cradle-she was gone when Koris and I reached the garbage disposal port.”
“I see.” Kosho’s jaw tightened in frustration. “Do you know how the freighter avoided our notice-assuming the ship left the vicinity of the Chimalacatl and boosted outbound, to join the rest of the Templar battle-group? Helsdon here and my techs have gone over the sensor logs at least three times-finding nothing.”
“It was a military ship,” Anderssen offered. “Disguised as a freighter. But the crewmen were all Order Knights and they were using-at the end-powered armor and modern weapons. Better than the Prince’s men had, from what I saw.”
Susan looked to Helsdon, clicking her teeth. “Then the Moulins could have been equipped with the same stealthing technology the Pilgrim ’s fighters were showing off against the Khaid.”