"Be quiet. I'm no more in control here than you are."
The ridership settled into IV Trajana's hull. The Guardship was in the groove and running for the Web.
The same uncertain hologram waited outside the exit hatch. It seemed blind to everyone but Haget. "Bring them out, Commander."
Haget nodded to Jo. She herded the prisoners out and formed them in a column of threes. They were beyond terror now, into that dulled, accepting, bovine antihysteria that grips the victims of great disasters and atrocities, glazed eyes becoming one-way glasses keeping reality at bay. Wake up some day and find it all a bad dream.
Ha.
Lights came on ahead and died behind. Physically the Guardship resembled VII Gemina. But it was empty. Haunted empty, leaving Jo feeling isolated and alone. Like she had been warmed from storage to find the entire Guardship abandoned but going on. Haulers and Travelers came off the Web that way sometimes. Without a soul aboard and nothing to show what had become of the crew.
It took half an hour to reach their destination. The same holo character awaited them. "Prisoners to the left, Commander. Your own facilities to the right."
"Jo?"
There was an electronic barrier. It parted. A light came on. Jo moved the prisoners.
Degas said, "Hey, look. It's our old buddy Chief Timmerbach. How's it going? Not so good?"
AnyKaat silenced him. "They left the lights on where we were, Degas."
The holograph told Haget, "I'm on the Web running for Starbase. Gemina will put in before and after the action against the pirates. I have little capacity for sustaining the living. I may dispose of the prisoners as I examine them."
"My WarAvocat would want the Chief off the Traveler. And possibly the krekelen."
In a moment of illumination, Jo realized Haget was talking directly to Trajana. Directly! No one ever spoke to Gemina direct, nor did Gemina speak directly to anyone. If that should happen, it would scare the crap out of the whole crew.
Bound for Starbase. For home. There was a lot of loneliness and uncertainty out here. She missed the familial closeness of the squad and platoon, the certainty of knowing who and what and where you were. She did not miss the rigidity, the lack of humor and humanity in the chain of command.
Things happened out here. Strange things, weird things, interesting things. Today's universe was alien to the one where she had been bom.
Born? A woman she no longer remembered had carried her inside her body. Did they still do that, down on the worlds? She could not recall the last time she had seen a pregnant woman.
They did not have the several immortalities down there. That was not allowed. Somebody too strong might come along.
This place was the antechamber of Hell. Here the shadows of madness met and danced. She wanted out badly.
Once upon a time she had lived on a world, a child who could look up and see uncovered sky... .What was the matter with her?
Shit. The place was creepy. And that damned spook Trajana was on a talking jag, going like it would not stop till it dumped them at Starbase. Yakking like some crazy old hermit who had not seen another human being in thirty years.
Spider momma, ate all her babies, cries because she's all alone.
— 60 —
Blessed scanned the report again, pushed it away, shook his head, pulled it back, pushed it away again, looked at the others. "What do you think, Cable?"
"Improbable. But it fits the facts."
"A mutiny? A Canon legate and most of his staff murdered?"
"Killed accidentally, according to this. And the legate had not announced himself."
"They do that," Nyo said. "Especially when they're sneaking around."
Tina said, "Maybe that's what got them killed. Maybe they found something out."
Cable said, "The Traveler behaved erratically from the moment it broke off the Web. It ID itself as the Hansa Traveler True Ceremonial."
"And Bligger says it isn't? Based on the pathetic data he has?"
Rolan Bligger was the Canon garrison in M. Shrilica system. An honorary, at that. But he took his appointment seriously.
"His ship records go way back. Only one Hansa True Ceremonial is noted. It vanished on the Web fifty-three years ago. He says this ship's markings were either Sveldrov, Pioyugov, or Volgodon."
"Stolen ship?" That meant pirates.
"That would explain their lack of interest in an investigation."
Blessed gnawed a hangnail. The business stank. And felt like it might fall on him. "So what do we have? An artifact and two aliens. Why would a legate drag them around?"
Tina laughed. "The artifact is obvious. For the same reason you drag me around."
Nyo simpered. "You really think she can cook, Tee?"
Shike smiled. He tapped one of three small holoportraits. "This one is mental. Psionic. Strong. Be handy if it was tame."
"What's the other one? It's ugly. And it looks mean."
"Bligger says it's a Ku warrior."
"What the hell is that?"
Blessed said, "Check history, Nyo."
Cable said, "I looked them up. They had it out with the Guardships a long time ago. Gene-engineered their whole species. Ku warriors were faster and meaner than anything human. If you were a Canon legate peeking in dangerous places, you might want a character like that covering you."
Blessed said, "It builds into an interesting picture. I don't believe them, but I'll give them a closer look. Bring them down."
"I took the liberty after I talked to Bligger. Smelled like something we might use."
As they awaited their interview, Turtle admitted, "I put it on too thick."
"Maybe that Traveler was extrasuspicious."
Of course. Amber Soul's seizure had not made those people produce false identifications. He had been asked about that repeatedly. All he knew was, he had boarded a vessel purporting to be Gregor Forgotten. Lord Strate had booked passage. Wasn't his business to know why. He was a bodyguard.
He had picked Strate because that was a name Midnight could remember and talk about endlessly—he hoped not too much.
If he kept them focused on him long enough, they would lose interest. Then it would be into DownTown and disappear and scheme out how to get away before VII Gemina came.
A tall young man summoned them into an office. Turtle took his measure at a glance. A lifetaker. Doubly dangerous because he had a mind stacked atop the conscience of a spider. Carrying at least three weapons.
He rose and followed. Midnight knew he would do the talking unless she was questioned directly. Amber Soul could not stick her foot in her mouth if she wanted.
There were three more in the office, all younger than the thug. The leader would have stood out even had he not fortified himself behind an immense combination desk and info center. Turtle saw toughness and competence in spite of youth.
The one behind the desk asked, "Are you the one doing the talking?"
"Yeah." Turtle pitched his voice near the bottom of the register of human hearing. Its undertones would make them uneasy.
"Name?"
"Sally Montengrin." A entertainer whose name was known throughout Canon space.
"What?" The boy was startled.
"You ask a stupid question you're gonna get a stupid answer, kid. You got it in front of you. You got the next answer, too. And the one after that. All the questions been asked five times each by fourteen different guys. They been cross-checked by three different computers. So cut the crap."
He had the boy rattled. Probably nobody ever talked back.
"Do you know who you're talking to?"