“Yes, you’re a gorgeous, exotic woman. But I’m too old to be letching after someone who’s disgusted by me. Hari… well, Hari wouldn’t be interested unless you had an engine. As for Jax, I’m sure you could handle a case of puppy love; you’ve had to handle worse. But I won’t subject myself and my friends to a crewmember who regards them as inferior, or treats them that way.”
She frowned. “I don't…”
I interrupted her. “Yes, you do. I could see it in your attitude toward Jax when he showed you in. You’ve tried to control it with me, but it’s there. For instance, you’ve used the term “paleskin.” Most people who haven’t been to Freja wouldn't notice. However, I’m well aware that to Frejans it’s an insult; and I suspect you use it as a way to exploit their ignorance. Poor paleskins, too stupid to know when they're being insulted.” I shook my head. “If you’ve managed to hang onto those prejudices for ten years, there’s not much chance you’ll ever get rid of them.
“I need an Astrogator very badly, both for the counter-coup operation and as a crewmember afterward. But I don’t think I can use you. A crewmember that’s disgusted by her mates… well…” I shook my head.
The result of my refusal of her services startled me. Those magnificent shoulders drooped, the gorgeous head sagged. She sighed deeply, and I could tell she was fighting off tears.
After a long moment, she raised her head, and her eyes met mine. They were proud, those eyes. She’d been battered, as much by her own prejudices as by others’ lechery; but she was strong, and she wasn’t giving up. For the first time, something besides Ursulas Fjolking’s remarkable appearance impressed me.
“Captain,” she said quietly, “I need a berth as badly as you need an Astrogator. I’ve never thought of myself as being prejudiced, but maybe I just can’t see it. However, since you seem to think that I am, perhaps you’ll understand how hard it is for me to say this: Please, Captain! Please sign me on. You’re my only chance to get off the rim and back to civilization!”
I thought for a moment that she was going to break down, but then she straightened. “You’re a trader, Captain. I’ll offer you a deal. Sign me on for the duration of the emergency on salary. When it’s over, if you’re not satisfied, I’ll sign off with no argument. If you are satisfied, you sign me on permanently.”
I shook my head. “Mistress Fjolking, I do not doubt your abilities as an Astrogator; your log book shows you to be very good. It’s your ability to fit into a crew that I doubt." The shoulders sagged minutely, but for the most part, she controlled her chagrin. I sighed.
I told myself I was an old softy and a fraud.
“All right, Mistress. Fjolking,” I began, “I’ll give you a single chance. I know that a woman as er… remarkable in appearance as you has to constantly fight off horny males; and I know that sometimes it isn’t easy. But I also know that anyone I sign onto a crew will take ‘no’ for an answer, or else.”
“But the fact that they pursue you is not a mark of inferiority. Rather, consider it a mark of excellent judgment. I will sign you on for the duration. For your part, I’ll expect you to try to fit into the crew, not isolate yourself. If you force yourself to deal with the others on a regular basis, I think you may find your prejudices hard to maintain.”
“During this military dustup, we’ll probably have up to several dozen extra crewmen aboard. I give you my word that I’ll protect you from them, if necessary. In exchange, you will force yourself to mingle with them, be friendly with them. I think you may find them worth knowing, despite their skin color.”
“If, after this coup thing is over, I’m satisfied with your relationships with the crew, I’ll sign you on permanently. If not, I’ll at least promise you a lift inward. Oh, by the way, the extra crew will be rimworlders. I’d watch those comments about getting back to civilization; you see, they consider the rim civilization.”
Her control broke, and tears coursed down those black velvet cheeks unheeded. It was all I could do to keep from taking her into my arms and wiping them off myself. She ignored them.
“Thank you, Captain,” she said with quiet dignity. “I’ll accept your offer. And I’ll do my best to become part of your crew. I hope you’ll be patient with me, and understand the difference between showing bias and fending off a pass."
I grinned. We were beginning to understand each other. “I understand the difference, Mistress Fjolking. I’ve been fended off by experts.”
Her answering smile was both genuine and blindingly beautiful. “I doubt that, Captain!” I was glad to see her sense of humor resurfacing.
I called Jax back into the office, introduced them, and told him to escort Suli out to the shipyard and turn her over to Hari. Jax barely heard a word. His eyes never left Suli. He tripped over his own feet three times before he could usher her out of the office. On her way out, she glanced at me with one of those blinding smiles and winked. I was going to have to have a talk with Jax.
It wasn’t easy to get back to my work. White-haired visions kept interfering. Finally, I walked over to the closet and opened the door. On the mirror mounted there, I tried to see what Suli had seen. 170 centimeters. Thinning hair. I’d always had a stocky build, but where had that paunch come from? Twenty kilos overweight. Funny I hadn’t noticed the grimness around the mouth before.
I visualized an ebon goddess standing next to me; then I dismissed the vision. It was just too ludicrous. “Val,” I told myself, “There's no fool like an old fool!” I closed up the office and went to get a drink. Several drinks.
In fact, it got pretty drunk out that night.
Though the transmitting and receiving equipment is no problem, the equipment to initiate a subspace connection is incredibly expensive; I’d heard figures approaching the annual gross domestic product of a reasonably developed planet. That’s why I was surprised to be informed that the Viceroy wanted to talk to me on subspace. I wasn’t aware that the capability existed here on the rim. I reminded myself I shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, Cord was an Imperial Viceroy. Come to think of it, there might even be an initiator at the Fleet base on Thaeron.
I hurried down to the com room. A life-sized image of Cord sat behind a nonexistent desk. “Good Morning, Commodore,” he began pleasantly.
“Uh, good evening, sir,” I replied. I was still trying to cope with the fact that Cord was on Haven, three jumps away, yet we were communicating instantly.
Cord seemed to read my mind. He smiled. “You’ll get used to it, Commodore. By the time we’ve finished here, you’ll be an old hand at subspace communication.”
I grinned. “Calling to see how much of your money I’m spending, Viceroy? Or to tell me I’m under arrest?”
His political smile relaxed into one that was genuine. “I know how much you’ve been spending, Commodore. And what you’re spending it on. No, this is something urgent enough to require subspace.
“A ship has appeared in Haven’s system. A Destroyer. It claims to be the Predator. Jonas does, indeed, have a destroyer named Predator assigned to him. The ship is claiming to be manned by deserters from Thaeron. They’re asking for me, of course, but what I find especially interesting is that they’re also asking for you. Do you have any idea how they would know that you even exist? I was under the impression that we went to some pains to make sure you were a surprise.”
I flushed with embarrassment. “Uh, I may have told them, sir. Unintentionally. Did they mention what they wanted?”
An eyebrow rose. “Indeed? We may need to have a talk about security, Commodore.” The sardonic expression disappeared. “All that they said was that they had to warn me — and you. I led them to believe I’d been notified of their arrival by subspace. I ordered the Captain not to approach Haven, but to reverse course and report with all possible speed to you at Outback. I have been notified that they are obeying, and are driving at nearly 2g to the primary jump point for Outback.”