And William will be here for two midsummers, thats the usual period of tutelage.
Indeed he will.
And youll be here as well.
Genevieve Kavanagh, silence that evil tongue this instant.
Genevieve danced across the grass. Hes handsome, hes handsome! she laughed. Ive seen the way he looks at you, especially in those dresses you wear for the dances. Her hands traced imaginary breasts over her chest.
Louise giggled. Devil child, you have a faulty brain. Im not interested in William.
Youre not?
No. Oh, I like him, and I hope we can be friends. But thats all. In any case, hes five years older than me.
I think hes gorgeous.
Then you can have him.
Genevieves face fell. Ill not be offered anyone so grand. Youre the heiress, after all. Mother will make me marry some troll from a minor family, Im sure of it.
Mother wont make us marry anyone. Honest to goodness, Genny, she wont.
Really truly?
Really truly, Louise said, even though she couldnt quite bring herself to believe it. Truth to be told, there werent that many eligible suitors for her on Kesteven. Hers was an invidious position: a husband should hold equal status, but someone of equal wealth would have his own estate and she would be expected to live there. Yet Cricklade was her life, it was beautiful even in midwinters long barren months when yards of snow covered the ground, the pine trees on the surrounding wolds were denuded, and the birds buried themselves below the frostline. She couldnt bear the thought of leaving it. So who could she marry? It was probably something her parents had discussed; her uncles and aunts too, most likely.
She didnt like to think about what the outcome would be. At the very least she hoped they would give her a list rather than an ultimatum.
One of the butterflies caught her eye, a geneered red admiral sunning itself on one of the grass blades. It was freer than she was, she realized miserably.
Will you marry for love, then? Genevieve asked, all dewy eyed.
Yes, Ill marry for love.
Thats super. I wish I were as bold.
Louise put her hands on the top rail of the fence, looking across the gurgling stream. Forget-me-nots had run wild on the banks, their blue flowers attracting hordes of butterflies. Some time-distant master of Cricklade had released hundreds of species across the grounds. Every year they flourished, invading the orchards and gardens with their fluttering harlequin colours. Im not bold, Im a dithery dreamer. Do you know what I dream?
No. Genevieve shook her head, her face rapt.
I dream that Father lets me travel before I have to take on any of my family responsibilities.
To Norwich?
No, not the capital, thats just like Boston only bigger, and Ill be going there anyway for finishing school. I want to travel to other worlds and see how their people live.
Gosh! Travel on a starship, thats stupendously wonderful. Can I come too? Please!
If I go, then I suppose Father will have to let you go when you reach your age. Fairs fair.
Hell never let me go. Im not even allowed to go to the dances.
But you sneak past Nanny and watch them anyway.
Yes!
Well, then.
He wont let me go.
Louise grinned down at her sisters petulant tone. It is only a dream.
You always make your dreams come real. Youre so clever, Louise.
I dont want to change this world with new ideas, she said, half to herself. I just want to be allowed out, just once. Everything here is so duty-bound, so regimented. Some days I feel as though Ive already lived my life.
William could get you away from here. He could ask for a star voyage as a honeymoon; Father could never refuse that.
Oh! You impudent baby ogress! She aimed a lazy swipe at her sisters head, but Genevieve had already skipped out of range.
Honeymoon, honeymoon, Genevieve chanted so loudly that even the nearby horses looked up. Louise is going on honeymoon! She picked up her skirts and ran, long slender legs flying over the flower-laden grass.
Louise gave chase, the two of them giggling and squealing in delight as they gallivanted about, scattering the butterflies before them.
Lady Macbeth emerged from her final jump insystem, and Joshua allowed himself a breath of silent relief that they were still intact. The trip from Lalonde had been an utter bitch.
For a start Joshua found he neither liked nor trusted Quinn Dexter. His intuition told him there was something desperately wrong about him. Wrong in a way he couldnt define, but Dexter seemed to drain life from a cabin when he entered. And his behaviour was weird, too; he had no instinct, no natural rhythm for events or conversation, as though he was working on a two-second time-delay to reality.
In fact, if Joshua had met him in the flesh back down on Lalondes spaceport he probably wouldnt have accepted him as a passenger no matter how much money was stashed in his credit disk. Too late now. Although, thankfully, Dexter had spent most of his time alone in his cabin down in capsule C, venturing out only for meals and the bathroom.
That was one of his more rational quirks. After hed come on board, he had given the compact bulkheads a quick suspicious look, and said: Id forgotten how much mechanization there is on a starship.
Forgotten? Joshua couldnt work that one out at all. How could you forget the way a starship looked?
Yet the oddest thing of all was how inept Dexter was at free-fall manoeuvring. Had he been asked, Joshua would have said that the man had never been in space before. Which was ridiculous, because he was a travelling sales manager. One who didnt have neural nanonics. And one who wore a frightened expression the whole time. There had even been occasions when Joshua had caught him flinching from some sudden metallic sound rattling out of the capsule systems, or the creak of the stress structure as they were under acceleration.
Of course, given Lady Mac s performance during the voyage, that part of Dexters behaviour was almost understandable. Joshua had experienced enough nasty moments on the flight himself. It seemed like there wasnt a system on board that hadnt suffered from some kind of glitch since they boosted out of Lalondes orbit. What should have been a simple four-day trip had stretched out to nearly a week as the crew tackled power surges, data drop-outs, actuator failures, and dozens of smaller niggling malfunctions. Joshua hated to think what was going to happen when he handed over the maintenance log to the Confederation Astronautics Boards inspectors, theyd probably insist on a complete overhaul. At least the jump nodes had functioned, though hed even begun to have his doubts about them.
He datavised the flight computer to unfold the thermo-dump panels and extend the sensor booms. Fault alerts jangled in his mind; one of the thermo-dump panels refused to open past halfway, and three booms were jammed in their recesses.
Jesus! he snarled.
There were mutters from the rest of the crew strapped into their bridge couches on either side of him.
I thought you fixed that fucking panel, Joshua shouted at Warlow.
I did! the answer thumped back. If you think you can do any better, put on a suit and get out there yourself.
Joshua ran a hand over his brow. See what you can do, he said sullenly. Warlow grunted something unintelligible, and ordered the couchs straps to release him. He pushed himself towards the open hatchway. Ashly Hanson freed himself, too, and went after the cosmonik to help.
Sensor data was coming in from the booms which were functional. The flight computer started tracking nearby stars to produce an accurate astrogration fix. Norfolk with its divergent illumination looked unusually small for a terracompatible planet. Joshua didnt have time to puzzle that, the sensors reported laser radar pulses were bouncing off the hull, and a voidhawk distortion field had locked on.