The commodore chuckled under his breath. "It shows that much?"
A sudden commotion at the far end of the brig drew Blair's attention.
"Watch it!" came a familiar voice. "You do that again, you'll be deep-throating that muzzle. Do we understand each other?"
"Shut up!" another man cried.
"Maniac?" Blair called, rushing to the bars. He glimpsed down the corridor and spotted his bunkmate being ushered toward them by their friendly neighborhood Pilgrim Marines.
"Hey, that you, Blair?" Maniac squinted to spot him.
"Yeah. I'm with the commodore. What are you doing here?"
"I'm on the free tour."
The Marines keyed open the cell beside Blair's and thrust Maniac inside. A solid wall stood between their cells, so Blair could only hear his wingman. "Thanks, guys," he told his escorts. "I'm looking at your hairy legs, and I gotta tell you, I'm feeling somewhat aroused."
"Close that hole, human" one of the guards retorted before he and his comrade beat a quick exit.
"You say it like a curse," Maniac cried after them. "At least I ain't a fanatic and a freak!" Suddenly aware of his company, he added, "No offense, guys."
Paladin arrived beside Blair, his once sallow face now aglow. "Lieutenant?" he called out to Maniac. "Explain your presence."
"You know it's actually good to see you two locked up. At least I know what side you're on."
"Lieutenant, answer my-"
"Sir, I took a hit, lost control, and came in close to the carrier as she was about to jump," Maniac began, sounding bored with having to relate the tale. "I drifted into some kind of neutral field that surrounded the ship. I fired a tow beam, just hung on, and figured I'd be wasted by the jump. On the other side, they sent out a couple Rapiers and tractored me back to the flight deck. Got interrogated by a few people. Don't know if they were officers, they wore those nutty robes with the symbols along the cuffs. One of them gave the order to have me executed."
Paladin snorted. "So why am I still talking to you?"
"Well, sir, I kind of dropped your name." Maniac's voice grew more tentative. "Told 'em I was a friend and that they should check with you first before they did anything. And son of a bitch, it worked. At least for now."
"That's pretty clever, Lieutenant."
"Why, thank you, sir."
"You idiot!" Paladin suddenly roared. "Aristee will bait me with your life."
"What was I supposed to do? Let 'em kill me? I don't think so. And why can't she do the same thing with Blair?"
"She won't kill him-he's half Pilgrim. Your presence may have already compromised this mission."
"And what mission is that, sir?"
Paladin sighed disgustedly and shambled back toward the cot. He flipped back a stray lock of hair and sat, his expression returning to a tight mask of thought.
"Hey, I didn't ask to be here," Maniac added. "You guys did. Mind telling me why?"
Blair looked to Paladin, who shook his head.
"Hey, you guys eat yet?" Maniac continued. "The food any good? Or do these Pilgrims eat only holy rice or some other bullshit?"
"Think you'd better sit down and find your own religion," Blair retorted. "You'll need it now."
Voices echoed faintly in the distance, then wore off into the sound of approaching footsteps.
"What now?" Paladin muttered.
Captain Amity Aristee emerged from the shadows like a dark-skinned archangel, cast out from the Confederation and ruling now in her own private hell. She did, indeed, possess that torturous beauty of which Paladin had so often spoke, and Blair found himself drawn to the forest in her eyes and the mysteries coiled through her black, shoulder-length hair. Aristee carried herself with a rhythm that seemed at once primordial and musical, though in no way did it appear forced. Full, round breasts tented up her robe, with more than a hint of cleavage forming a warm home at her V-neck. She stood tall on firm legs, the calves smooth and well-defined, and her small feet with toenails painted white fit perfectly in her leather sandals. Blair amused himself by speculating on her undergarments-or lack thereof-before he noticed another man coming forward, a man he immediately recognized, though he had first seen as part of the continuum, part of something universal, elemental, and baffling.
Frotur Johan McDaniel regarded Blair with warm recognition. "Brotur Christopher." Then he eyed Paladin with a slight though detectable sneer. "And Brotur James. I never thought we'd meet again."
"For a Pilgrim with a perfect sense of direction, you seem to keep crossing my path," the commodore said coldly.
"Oh, but that's not my will. It's destiny tugging on your elbow. You've lived in denial long enough, haven't you?"
"All right, gentlemen," Aristee interjected. "We'll finish the debate later." With several rapid keystrokes on the cell's control panel, she opened the door. "Let's go."
Blair noticed how Aristee and Paladin would not look at each other. He had expected an awkward moment between them, a moment in which they painfully uttered each other's names followed by mawkish cliches like "It's been a long time."
"Whoa. Where are you going?" Maniac asked as they stepped into the corridor. "Hey, you leave me here, you're gonna have a major problem on your hands."
"Lieutenant," Paladin snapped, then added a glare to silence Maniac. The reprimand worked.
"I understand he's a friend," Aristee said, though she barely met Paladin's gaze.
"No, he's not."
"Sir?" Maniac cried.
"He's a good friend and one of most aggressive junior pilots in the fleet," the commodore added. "But he's still a human. I suggest you jettison him ASAP."
Blair turned to Paladin, mouth agape both eyes bulging.
"James, you know why I let him live," Aristee began. "Don't insult my intelligence again. You're not here to defect, and you don't want me to kill him. You're here to talk me into surrendering, but Ivar Chu himself couldn't do that now."
"At least hear me out," Paladin said.
"Oh, I will. We'll have plenty of time to talk. But first I want to show you something." She suddenly turned to Blair, scrutinized him for a second, then blurted out, "You look like your mother."
"Did you know her, ma'am?"
"I knew of her. I was pretty young back then and was only visiting Peron. I remember everyone being jealous of her good looks. Then when she married your father, that jealousy turned to hate." She moved away. "So it goes."
They followed her toward the hatch at the far end of the corridor, with Johan McDaniel bringing up the rear. "Broturs James and Christopher, many people scarified their lives for what you're about to witness. We shall honor them by remaining silent until we arrive," the frotur instructed.
Paladin looked askance at Blair and made a face. Blair nodded as the two Marines joined them at the hatch.
"Bring back some food," Maniac shouted.
Amity led them down several decks, toward the supercruiser's stern. They passed several torpedo launch bays, pilots' quarters, environmental controls, and a long storage area fenced off by polymeric bars. Crew members snapped to as they neared them, bowing instead of saluting.
It took all of fifteen minutes for them to reach the engineering deck. Two more Pilgrim Marines stood guard outside the oval-shaped hatch. As they drew near, one of the guards briskly keyed open the door. The drone of cooling units and air recyclers grew louder as they stepped onto a catwalk that encompassed a circular room. The catwalk permitted full view of the ship's drive system, a great metallic organ centered below. From a distance, the place resembled an amphitheater, with the drive at center stage and emitting a solid bass note so deep that Blair felt it pass through him as they crossed toward a staircase that dropped fifteen meters to the drive deck. He gripped the rail and descended, his gaze riveted to the hopper drive itself.
Mounted on a two-meter-high, rectangular durasteel base, the drive extended about fifteen meters, bearing the exotic curves of some black, incandescent melon. It tapered at the tail end to form a curving hose with the girth of two men. The hose arced back to the center of the drive, where it grew wider by a third and attached to a dome on the system's back. A conduit at least five meters across jutted from the forward end and curved up ninety degrees to reach the overhead. Blair assumed that the four robed men who had risen from their control stations along the perimeter were drive officers; they bowed as Aristee entered the room.