"Trying to get into the dressing rooms, hmm?" asked Petey, his jaw tightening. "Which dressing rooms?"
"Well," the rigger said, with a shake of his head. "I almost feel sorry for 'em. Normally fans try to get to the leading lady's room, and thieves too. These guys were such losers they were trying his." He pointed at Pausert.
Cravan blinked. "Have you got something in there you're not telling us about, Aron?"
Pausert shook his head. "Not that I can think of." He'd have to think quickly here and just hope the girls could ad-lib along with whatever story he came up with.
"Unless . . ." He rubbed his jaw. "Well, someone might have been prepared to pay someone to take my older niece back to her stepfather. There's a pretty large family estate involved and nothing much Dani or anyone can do about it until she's of age to sign the documents. Tregger—that's her stepfather—would undoubtedly like to have her back under his eye. I'm the girls' guardian—and I have the papers to prove it. But if I had an accident . . . then they'd go back to Tregger. Ask the girls how they'd like that."
"Please don't let the captain get hurt," said the Leewit, sniffing. "Tregger's mean. He used to beat us. And momma. She died and the captain took us away."
"Huh," said Goth. "The captain'd have dealt with them just like he did with the last one."
It was a superb piece of acting.
"What did these guys tell you?" growled Petey to the riggers.
"Some cock-and-bull story about being friends from way back, and wanting to give the new show-folk a surprise," the rigger said. "We didn't buy it. You don't need a pry-bar for that. Or a cosh and forcecuffs. That was why they fell down a lot on the way out."
Petey turned to Goth and the Leewit, who were wide-eyed. "Just for the record, do you and your sister know any of the new people? Any sausage sellers from way back?"
They both shook their heads vigorously. "Only people I'm friends with outside of the company and my uncle's crew are the fellows in Clown Alley," the Leewit said, in a very small voice.
Goth shook her head. "Don't even know what the new guys look like, sir."
"I don't tolerate people interfering with my thespians!" said Cravan stormily.
"You get no argument from me, Sir Richard. They're working members of the Petey B's company. We look after own, girls." Petey's face was flushed. He looked to the techs. "You can identify them, of course?"
"Huh. We marked 'em good," said the rigger with satisfaction. "Uh, that is, they got marked pretty good falling down a lot."
Petey reached inside the huge sleeve of his doublet, and pulled out a wrist-com. He tapped out a sequence, and spoke into it. "Hey, rube! Backstage. Theater."
The thespians all seemed to know what was coming, for they cleared back against the walls and scrims. Dame Ethulassia grabbed Pausert's elbow and pulled him back along with the rest, while some of the others did the same for Hulik, Goth, and the Leewit.
Suddenly there was a thunder of running feet, and backstage became very, very crowded as the biggest, meanest-looking, and strongest members of the circus converged on Cravan and Petey. If Goth's and the Leewit's eyes had been big before, they were dinner-plate-size now.
Himbo Petey spoke to them in a very low, very angry voice, explaining what had just happened. An animal growl arose from several of the throats, and postures went rather beyond "tense."
"These boys will help you identify them," he finished, gesturing to the riggers and the techs. "I want them off the ship, off the grounds, bag and baggage. Keep 'em off. And spread the word: we're lifting early. I want us derigged, packed up, and gone. We've got most of the loose money on this planet anyway."
Before Pausert could blink, they were gone. Petey looked around, his eyes lighting on the little witches. "We take care of our own," he said again, reassuring them in a surprisingly gentle voice. They nodded, though their eyes were still enormous. "Good. Miss Hulik? Would you and the rest of your crew take them to their cabins on your old ship? And when you get there, close and dog down the airlock. Don't come out until we're out of orbit. Girls, don't bother to change out of your costumes until you're in your own cabins; just bring them back at rehearsal tomorrow."
"Yessir," they said in chorus.
Cravan looked around as well. "You heard the Showmaster," he said firmly. "Break and stow, we're lifting early. Quicktime!"
Pausert joined the girls, and they all started to move away. Cravan shot a look at them.
"Quicktime, Mister Pausert!" he barked.
They ran.
* * *
"Are we in trouble?" asked Goth quietly, when the lock had been secured. "With the show, I mean."
"Oh no," Hulik replied. "No, not at all. However, your would-be kidnappers are."
"You think they were going to kidnap us?" the Leewit asked, looking more interested than frightened.
Hulik shrugged. "It's what I would do, if I were the kind of wretched scum that they are," she replied. "Kidnap you, and use you to get the rest of us without a fight. That is, if I hadn't bothered to look into the reports of the last lot of ISS agents who tried to take us."
"Do you think we should tell Himbo Petey what's really going on?" Pausert asked, feeling guilty again.
"No!" said Hulik and Hantis at once, and very vehemently.
They exchanged a look, and Hulik elaborated. "Look, Captain, Petey has a perfectly good explanation for what those men were going to do. Those men can claim to be ISS until they're blue in the face, and it won't do them any good, because you and the little Wisdoms would have convinced me. And I know the truth."
Goth blushed a little. The Leewit looked so innocent that it seemed as if a halo might descend on her head at any moment. Pausert rubbed his jaw. "Well, yes," he said. "But they weren't—"
"If you can explain to me how planning to kidnap two children and use them to get their friends and guardians to surrender, possibly torturing one or both girls to make us frantic to do what they asked is any different, I'd like to hear it." There was more than a touch of frost in Hantis' voice.
"Anyway, it's all done with now," said Hulik. She turned to Pausert. "You know, we might as well go open all the com channels and find out what's going on."
"That sounds like a good idea."
What was going on was a lot of frantic work, apparently. When Petey said quicktime, he meant it. All of the decorations, the bunting and banners and synthasilk sheathing, were already stowed away, and the full breakdown was, impossible though it seemed, half over. Goth put the viewscreen on channel-flick, so they could see what every camera that was broadcasting was showing.
"Look!" said Goth, suddenly, freezing the view.
The four "new men" were being ungently escorted to the other side of the showboat's gates, with some of their escorts carrying what must have been everything the men owned. Once they were tossed beyond the perimeter, their belongings were unceremoniously dumped—a fair amount of it on them. There was no sound on this particular camera, but it was obvious from the gesticulations that there was a lot of angry shouting going on. But the escort-party wasn't moving, and those who hadn't been carrying baggage were handing out clubs to those who had been.
The four men seemed to come to their senses. Sullenly, they shut up and began loading themselves with their baggage, then dragged it out of the camera's view.
"What about their ship?" the Leewit asked. "I mean, Petey's still got their ship! Won't the law come after him for that?"
Goth unexpectedly grinned. "Nope. I'm the one that worked our contracts, remember? There's a clause in there that says that if any of us break the Code of Conduct, Petey can throw all of us off and take our ship. Bet that's in their contract, too. And I betcha Petey's transmitting the contracts to the police right this minute. If they want the law after us, they'll have to break cover—and remember, they got no proof that we're anything but what we say we are, so I betcha the law won't move until they can prove they're ISS, and then it'll be too late."