"Not in Canon space. But there's a lot of Outside."
Turtle concentrated on the Guardship, willing his wizard side out of hibernation. He had to be very careful.
The boy had grown tense. His games had ended. Because of that Guardship.
"It might be arranged, Kez Maefele."
"I might be interested. If I knew what you were talking about."
The boy studied the Guardship, too. Then, "We're at a point of no return, aren't we?"
"Are we?"
Blessed left his desk. He paced. Turtle reached into the past for tools with which to calm hormonal storms. The Prime was determined to drag him past the mouths of the guns of fate.
Blessed stopped. "I learned most of what the artifact knows."
"She can't help herself."
"What you see is my grandfather's handiwork. He may be dead now, along with a man named Lupo Provik, who might have been your match. They had the help of aliens from beyond the Rim." Blessed looked at him hard. "Two people in this system know what I've told you."
A child had put a knife to his throat.
"Grandfather must have made a showing."
A hell of a showing. It spoke well for the alliances he had forged.
"That, and your name, would make great arguments when we go back to those creatures. There they go. They weren't looking for you."
The Guardship had climbed back onto the Web.
It was walking-through-the-fire time, staying-alive time, and being the fastest and deadliest thug around was not going to be enough. Was he ready to take up the lance and enter the lists for one more tilt with the dragon?
The boy hurled his comm unit at the vision plate. The plate crackled and popped. He said, "That was Cable Shike. The Guardship helped itself to station's data while it was here."
"That's routine."
"There was stuff about your arrival still in the system. Think about that. Then think about the fact that we're stuck here till I get a parole from Tregesser Prime."
Turtle stared at the now blank plate.
— 66 —
WarAvocat wakened relaxed. He swelled a little with the thought that he would see Midnight soon.
It had been tense there, off the Web, getting that runaway drive well damped, more because of the carping of Makarska Vis's coterie and Ops and Service people than because VII Gemina was in any danger.
But the crisis was over. The bad feelings had bottomed out. The technicians should have the well relined, new casements set, and the tractors recalibrated before VII Gemina reached Starbase.
No. The bottom line was political. The Dictat election had delivered some disappointments. OpsAvocat, hoping to become the second living Dictat of the century, had drawn only cool support while Hanaver Strate, whose campaign had consisted of an admission that he would stand, had drawn approval from sixty-eight percent of the electorate.
WarAvocat's new fellow Dictat was the Deified Aleas Notable, a little known former WarAvocat taking office for the first time. Her genius was a cipher. She had been one of the longest reigning WarAvocats ever, but her term had run smack in the middle of the longest period of peace in VII Gemina's history.
WarCentral was quiet. The boards and wall had nothing interesting to say. Quiet time was useful, though. This he could use to establish a working relationship with Aleas Notable. They had to get along for a year.
A staffer said, "Sir, there're rumors Tawn has been seen."
"Really? Where? It's been a couple hundred years."
"The usual places. Empty corridors and whatnot. One man supposedly touched her. She paralyzed him with the fire in her eyes."
"I might look into it. I'd like to meet her myself."
"Nobody who goes looking for her finds her, WarAvocat."
"You're right." Not even the Deified could find the Guardship's tutelary spirit. Gemina claimed she did not exist. Even so, Tawn turned up after every spate of combat. A savant once suggested Tawn was a dream. Gemina had enough spare capacity to create a platoon of phantoms real enough to touch.
A spare, youngish woman said, "WarAvocat, would you look at this?"
He accepted a data pad. "What is it?"
"An abstract of data taken during routine scan while we were off the Web. Gemina tagged it."
WarAvocat skimmed it. "A phantom?"
"The info came off the abandoned 3B station, which was in a conjunctional mode during the incident. There was no comparable data from the 3A source. Gemina thinks someone was purging and weaving in so there wouldn't be a noticeable hole."
WarAvocat scrutinized the ID data. Gemina said the phantom could not be either of the ships it had claimed to be. Gregor Forgotten was on a regular trapezoidal run between L. Maronia, K. Foulorii, M. Bemica, and D. Sutonica-B. Always had been and always would be. The Hansa Traveler True Ceremonial had been lost, but it had been found by XVII Macedonica twenty years ago. Pirates. No known survivors.
"A phantom phantom? That's a new one."
Phantom operators did borrow the identities of ships which could be counted on to remain safely far away. But to underlay one falsehood with another hinted at something more sinister than smuggling.
Gemina had caught no whiff of a true identity.
"Curious."
Insofar as Gemina could determine, no one had boarded or departed the Traveler during its inexplicable approach to M. Shrilica 3A.
"Run it through the Starbase pool when we get there."
Starbase.
He was an old fart. He should not be moved by anything. But he could not suppress his excitement when he thought of the artifact. VII Gemina would be in repair dock a long time. His duties would be light.
"WarAvocat. Word from XXVIII Fretensis. IV Trajana is in."
"IV Trajana?"
"It brought in those people you put aboard that Traveler at P. Jaksonica. It rescued them from a Cholot prison."
They had dared? ... He would get the story. That Haget would be sorry if he had screwed up....
He ordered the artifact and two aliens brought as soon as VII Gemina entered repair dock.
What artifact and two aliens?
WarAvocat brooded. Then, "Access, Gemina. Priority input. I want a council of Deified WarAvocats. Mandatory. No excuses accepted. Input immediately." In seconds all the former WarAvocats were present.
"During our previous visit to Starbase, the Deified Makarska Vis put three guests of mine off the Guardship. They aren't there now. Think about that."
They saw the peril before he finished.
Someone offered a motion to recall the Deification of Makarska Vis. It failed. Barely.
— 67 —
"Why is that damned Guardship still out there?" Valerena demanded.
"Why not go ask?" Provik snapped.
"Hell. I might." She knew he was tired of hearing about it. He feared she had fixed it as an object for all her frustrations.
The transition was going well because of the failure in the end space, because the stakes were high, because there was a Guardship in the sky. Somebody had to be in charge. And Valerena was the designated heir.
Beyond that general agreement, though, the Directorate fell into factions trying to get the advantage of one another.
The Simon Tregesser Other, acting in an advisory capacity, was cautious and cooperative. It did not want to be shut down.
Provik said, "You have to recall Blessed. No matter how insecure he makes you."