"I wonder," Ixil said thoughtfully. "We have only his word that he even hasthe disease, you know. As I recall, Everett was unable to either confirm or denyit.
What if he's faking all this, with these seizures his way of pulling us out ofhiding before we're ready?"
"In that case, we're back to the question of why he didn't betray us earlierand save everyone a lot of trouble," I reminded him.
"I suppose." He eyed me closely. "You wouldn't be holding out on me, wouldyou?"
"Holding out how?" I asked.
"Oh, I don't know," he said with a shrug. "Actually considering offering theIcarus to Brother John without consulting me first, for example."
"Don't be silly," I said, putting some huff into my voice. "Though you have toadmit that would be one way to keep it safe."
" 'Safe' being an extremely relative term."
"True," I conceded. "Still, Brother John could probably give even the Patth apretty good run for their money."
"And of course, turning such a plum over to him would give us a giant step upin the Antoniewicz organization," he continued. "Don't pretend that hadn'talreadyoccurred to you, either."
"Occurred, pondered, and dismissed," I assured him. "I have plenty of faults, but ambition on that scale isn't one of them." I cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Unless you'd like to take a shot at it."
"What, be the first nonhuman in Antoniewicz's direct line of command?" heasked dryly. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass."
I waved a hand. "Up to you. By the way, do you happen to know if Nicabar'sgotten Shawn back inside the ship yet?"
"Yes, they came in while you were inside the small sphere," he said. "Terawill let us know when the wraparound's been repressurized." He cocked his head tothe side. "She seemed rather annoyed you'd gotten yourself trapped on this side ofthe wraparound when you had work to do over there."
"Actually, there's very little work left to do," I said with a shrug. "Ialreadyknow where we're heading."
"And that is?"
I cleared my throat. "I thought we'd try the Grand Feast of Plorins onPalmary."
The ferrets twitched again, quite impressively this time. "You are joking,"
Ixil said. "The Grand Feast of Plorins?"
"Can you think of a better place to hide than square in the middle of awall-to-wall crowd of people?" I asked reasonably.
"With half the thieves, lifters, and cons for two hundred light-years workingthat same crowd?" he countered. "And, as a consequence, half the badgemen forthe same two hundred light-years there to keep an eye on them? And both groupsbusy looking for us?"
"Of course it's crazy," I agreed. "That's why no one will be expecting it."
He shook his head. But at least the ferrets had settled down again. He must begetting used to the idea. " 'Crazy' isn't nearly strong enough a word," hesaid with a sigh. "But under the circumstances I suppose it's as good a plan asany."
"That's the spirit," I said approvingly. "Besides, they'll be watching everyport within a thousand light-years of Utheno anyway. The bigger the clog ofspace traffic we sneak in under, the better the chances they'll miss uscompletely."
He gave me one of his repertoire of sour looks. "And the more confusion andpanic we can stir up if they don't?"
I shrugged. "Something like that."
The intercom clicked. "McKell?" Tera's voice came. "Wraparound's ready again.
You feel like getting your butt in here and finding us a place to land?"
"Yes, dear," I murmured.
"What was that?"
"I said I'll be right there," I said. "And tell Revs to get back here and giveIxil a hand with the startup procedure."
PALMARY WAS ONE of those semi-independent colony worlds that, while relativelynewly settled, still somehow managed to seem like it had been there forever.
Part of that was the fact that, unlike most colonies, there was no dominantspecies controlling most of the local real estate. The Trinkians had found theworld about twenty years ago and started its development, but within a fewyearsthey'd been joined by Wanch settlers, Porpyfian miners, and k'Tra foresters.
Someone on some news service had touted the place, commenting favorably on itsegalitarian flavor, and within a few years more the planet was starting toseem almost crowded.
The Grand Feast of Plorins was something the k'Tra had brought with them, andthe rest of the egalitarians on the planet had grabbed on to the idea withboth hands. Depending on who you talked to, the Grand Feast was either a deeply meaningful manifestation of esoteric historic and cultural significance, orelse the greatest excuse to party the Spiral had ever known. I assumed the truthwas probably somewhere in the middle, where truth has a tendency to lurk anyway, but I was certainly willing to concede the point that millions of beings who hadnot the slightest interest in k'Tra history or culture nevertheless descendedenthusiastically on the planet every year for a three-week bash.
The Grand Feast was sometimes compared to the annual Mardi Gras celebrationsthat still took place in various places on Earth and its colonies. Mardi Grasinvariably lost.
I had used the hull cameras to take a quick look at the changes that had beenmade to the ship before we ever took to hyperspace again. Chort was right: Thedisguise was far from perfect. On the other hand, he and his helpers hadgottenenough of the plates in place to markedly change both our visual and radarsignatures, which was hopefully all we would need to get to the ground withouttripping alarms from the underworld to the Patth and back again.
Once we were on the ground, of course, it would be a different story. Someonewho wandered in close for a good look would easily be able to see through thegaps to the distinctive joined spheres beneath. But I had a couple of ideasfor dealing with that one; and anyway, getting to the ground was the first orderof business.
After the near disaster at Utheno the situation at Palmary was decidedlyanticlimactic. The official start of the Grand Feast was still three daysaway, but the hard-core party types were already clogging the space lanes as theyheaded in to scope out the best celebration spots or just get a head start onthe festivities. With our new silhouette, plus yet another of Ixil's fake IDsidentifying us as the Sherman's Blunder, we sailed straight through theprelanding formalities. A harried-sounding controller directed me to a landingrectangle at the Bangrot Spaceport, a name that didn't even show up on mysupposedly comprehensive listing, and instructed us to have a good time.
The reason for the lack of a listing was apparent as soon as I got withinvisual range of the coordinates I'd been given. The Bangrot Spaceport was nothingmore than a large open area stretching across the southern ends of the twin citiesDrobney and k'Barch, an area that looked to me like a former condemnedbuildingdevelopment. Apparently, the Grand Feast had grown so large they were nowhavingto park spaceships on every reasonably sized vacant lot they could find.
And the official celebration didn't even start for three more days. Give thiswhole thing a few years, and they might as well declare it a permanent partyand be done with it.
One might have assumed that the Bangrot Expansion Spaceport would be onlysparsely settled, with the bulk of the space still waiting for the arrival ofthe latecomers. But one would have been wrong. The place was crowded withships, already crammed in practically nose to tail, with the narrow spaces betweenthem crawling with activity. As far as this party was concerned, we were thelatecomers.
I was also a little worried about what would happen to the definitions of "up" and "down" inside the Icarus as we went deeper into the Palmary gravity field.