Long View - Zelde M'Tana Part 10

"So that's where we land?" Seeing Dopples' look, Zelde knew she'd talked out of turn.

"Right." Parnell looked around, nodding, a smile almost breaking loose but not quite. "Better than I thought-a lot better. We go in, the only ship on the place."

Harger asked, "What about the drive cube we need?"

"An aircar can bring that from Summit Bay. And with no other s.p.a.ce personnel at Parleyvoo, under normal protocol, n.o.body has the authority to breach ship's security on us!"

But Zelde thought, how can it be so easy?

When the planet's rotation next brought Summit Bay into view, transmission lag was small enough for direct 89.conversation. Now, unable to edit his words, Parnell talked directly with Port Commandant Horster, his staff, and the captains of the three ships at groundside.

Zelde watched him check readouts of the faked log, making sure not to cross up his "facts." "When I do this," he'd told her, "I have to sound chatty about it. If I act at all secretive, they'll know for sure that from UET's viewpoint, something's wrong."

So now she watched him play his deadly game.

Horster wasn't much trouble-it came clear that he had little interest or experience in s.p.a.ce itself. He talked mostly of administration and possibilities of promotion-and Zelde knew a politician when she heard one. Parnell told gossip about politics in Earth HQ-whether he sprinkled any truth into it, Zelde had no idea.

Two of the captains and their ships were, to Parnell, only names on a list-and vice versa. The third, Fahrquar of the Cortez, was an Academy cla.s.smate of the late Cap- tain Czerner, and wanted full details of his friend's promotion. When that talk was done, Parnell wiped his forehead. "d.a.m.ned good thing, Dopps, that you worked out all the background you did for our story, not just the bare bones." Dopples grinned and shrugged, and for a moment Zelde almost liked the man.

Now a lot had to happen in a hurry. Zelde tried to keep track, but she knew she missed a few things.

Maybe Horster wasn't much of a s.p.a.ceman, but he could shuffle more than paper.

The new Nielson cube, the heart of a ship's drive, was on its way to Parleyvoo and vouch-ered for the Great Khan. "It's not exactly the same model we have," said Harger, "but the specs and modification kit sound right. No problems."

"Or so we hope," Parnell said. But he didn't look worried.

He called a meeting of Turk Kestler's women and explained why twenty-five or so of them had to move back into Hold, Portside Upper, for as long as the ship was groundside. "I can get away with some of you being listed as crew from the start, but not all. And I have to choose on the basis of the jobs you're doing. We'll upgrade the food, certainly, but you get no clothes-because the setup has to look like what UET will be expecting." Zelde saw a few 90.scowls; then Parnell said, "While you're in there, you'll draw work credits double what your present jobs rate. All right?" The scowls cleared. Parnell, he knows what he's doing.

Now Zelde had to memorize her own background as Dopples had invented it.

Seeing the faked readout, she laughed-then looked to the First Hat and said, "What's funny is, none of this ever happened, but you did it up so real." Just for a bit she thought he might smile, but no chance. All right; she began to learn it. . . .

When and where she was born, her folks' names. Went to school-ha!-took beginning s.p.a.ce training at Academy South Branch, shipped out as a Second rating.

On another ship, of course; came onto this one as a Chief. Which made her-with all that travel-well, about fifteen-twenty years older, by planets' time, than she really was. Someday she'd have to get Parnell to explain that "two ages" stuff so she could really understand it.

But right now, going through the fake log things a few more times, she figured she was set for any UET snooping, all right.

She just hoped Parnell was, too. And the whole ship.

Landing time came up during Lera Tzane's watch. Knowing that the woman wouldn't object, Zelde went in with Parnell to see how it was done; she sat off to one side, out of the way. Dopples, she saw, sat right behind the watch officer and looked over her shoulder. He would!

With maybe a half hour to go, Tzane got the fidgets. She looked around, and finally said, "Captain? Mister Adopo-lous? Are you sure you want me to land us?

I've never done it. . . ."

Before Dopples could speak, Parnell did. "We all have to begin sometime. You have a long string of perfect runs on the simulator; I checked." Well, so did Zelde have a good string, for that matter, but in Tzane's shoes she'd feel the same way.

Now Adopolous spoke. "If she's not sure, skipper, then maybe one of us should relieve her. We don't want to bet the whole ship on someone who's afraid to bet on herself."

"It's not that!" As soon as she opened her mouth, Zelde knew she shouldn't have.

But now they were all looking at her; she had to explain. "If this was my watch, now-" She 91.had to think-to see what was right to say. "If I was all on my own, I'd land it and not think twice about trying. And if I was told to, I'd do it right now, too. But with both of you here who've done it already, I'd ask first, if you'd rather do it yourself. It's only polite."

Parnell looked at her, and then to Lera. "Is that how it is, Tzane?"

No pause at all. "That's how, Captain."

Parnell grinned. "Then land us, Second Hat. Land us."

And about twenty minutes later, she did. If there was any jolt, Zelde didn't feel it.

Cutting ship's power down to standby, Tzane took her time. Then she turned and said, "We're groundside, skipper. Orders?"

Already standing, ready to leave Control, Parnell said, "Finish out your watch, Tzane. And log yourself a commendation-mine-on your first landing." As he walked out, Zelde followed him.

Parleyvoo, the way Parnell told it when they were back in quarters, had started as a freelance settlement. "UET owns the planet, of course, but just as on Earth, a lot of the economy has to be free enterprise-people working on their own, for themselves. So a number of those left the main colony to look at the possibilities here on the island." Mining, temperate-zone fishing, and some different kinds of crops to harvest, it sounded like. "After a while, a second s.p.a.ceport turned out to be a good idea."

Back in Control, later, scanning the town on direct viewscreen, Zelde saw what he meant. In the flat, down by the bay, the older part of Parleyvoo was mostly a shack town-even the bigger buildings. Wood frame and slabs a lot, with some stone and brick used, some sc.r.a.p sheet metal and plastic-stuff left over from other uses. Up around the port here, things were different-concrete all over the place, and where there was plastic, it looked like on purpose.

She decided she liked Old Town better.

Leaving the buildings out of it, the place looked a lot like Earth. The sunlight was the right color, and the gra.s.s and all. Except it wasn't gra.s.s, exactly; the ground cover, when you came down out of the ship and looked close, was built different. And the trees. The leaves looked right 92.enough, but there weren't any real trunks-big woody plants with every thick limb growing up from the ground by itself. Overgrown bushes, really, she thought. But big enough to give good lumber for building.

She wanted to get down to the bay and look around Parly-voo for herself. But being Third Hat, she had to stay on ship while all the red tape happened-stand watch while Parnell and Dopples talked with the local UET ramrods, that sort of thing.

"You don't want to have too much to do with these people," Parnell said, "in case you need to jump ship, as we discussed, on your own." Well, she didn't have to hide out, either. When she showed up in the bushy wig, wearing "fat clothes," Parnell laughed. "All right. Keep the disguise consistent-and in their company, talk as little as possible. But it might very well pay for you to know them without their knowing you."

With the rings taped to her neck as for combat practice, the wig covered them well enough. In the galley Zelde sat to one side while Parnell talked with Eldra Siddenour, just in from Summit Bay. This fat woman, with bleached hair straggling around her sagging cheeks, was third in command on Terranova. She outranked the local Port Commandant-but on the civilian side, not s.p.a.ce Arm. In UET, Zeide knew, women could be second or third in line but never first.

Maybe that was what made fat Siddenour so hard to get along with. Or maybe she was born that way. Whatever, Zelde didn't like her much. At least, though, she'd had the tact to leave her Committee Police escort outside the ship.

Now she was arguing, shrill-voiced, about the Nielson cube. "Just why, Captain, have you ordered a new unit when the one you have hasn't been thoroughly tested?"

Parnell shrugged; Zelde saw him work at being patient. "My Chief Engineer says the cube can't be trusted to lift us off safely, let alone land us again. I have to go with his word; he's the best I've got. And a complete overhaul takes considerably more time than our schedule allows." He spread his hands. "Coordinator Siddenour-you'll appreciate my position. Outside our own areas of direct compe- tence we must both rely on experts. Agreed?" He waited for 93.the nod that merged her second and third chins. "Well, that's what I'm doing. All right?"

Again she nodded, but her voice sounded grudging. "What you say is true, of course. Still, a little more deference to established procedures . . . it's hard enough keeping the colonists in line, without you s.p.a.cers taking shortcuts, setting them a bad example."

Parnell made a quick grin, maybe with Zelde's own thought that not many colonists were apt to hear of the hurry-up Nielson cube. But he said, "Actually, of course, it was Commandant Horster who took the shortcut. I told him our problems and he said a unit would be on the way when we arrived. That's all."

The woman shrugged. "I suppose it's all right. Still, we don't like to have equipment shuttling around with no requisition to justify it." Red tape-nothing's real without paper to prove it.

"Yes." Parnell nodded. "Well, you have the requisition now. It's in the packet with the other reports." Her frown eased; Parnell looked at his watch. "By ship's hours I'm now ent.i.tled to a drink. How about you, Coordinator? All our stock's direct from Earth, of course," and he named several types and brands.

Siddenour chose Scotch whisky; she drank it straight and within two minutes took a refill. Parnell had his bourbon over ice, and Zelde was glad to see he was nursing it.

By her third gla.s.s, the fat woman's face was red and her voice loud. Her fleshy hand moved to squeeze Parnell's wrist. "Your name-it's Ragir, isn't it? So call me Eldra."

"Of course-Eldra." He got his hand free to refill her gla.s.s; then she recaptured it.

To herself, Zelde grinned; she'd never before seen Parnell really embarra.s.sed.

Talking again, now the woman was plainly making a play for him-dropping hints that everyone could hear, while Parnell pretended not to notice. Peace up a pipe!

Was she going to rape him right here?

Siddenour leaned over, talking to Parnell in a raucous mumble. All Zelde heard was, ". . . and we can talk priva'lly-privately." Lurching, she stood and hauled at his arm. Brows raised, Parnell looked once at Zelde. Then he shrugged, and let the woman lead him away.

Well. Zelde guessed she'd need a place to sleep tonight. Her own official Third Hat quarters were empty, except for 94.a few things stored there. She got some fresh bedding, and made do until it was time to get up and go on watch.

When Dopples relieved her, Parnell hadn't shown up in Control. Gesturing at the wig, the First Hat snickered. "It doesn't do much for you, M'tana."

"Not supposed to-sir. Just has me looking different. You know why."

"Yes. Well-" He read out the brief watch log. "No problems, I see. All right.

Relieved." She stood, and he took the watch seat.

Her training work these days gave Zelde a good appet.i.te. In the galley she took seconds, and then sat with one cup of coffee after another. When she got tired of coffee, still she sat-she wasn't sleepy, and she had no place else to go.

Carrying a tray, Turk Kestler joined her. UET's tabling of officers, ratings, and crew separately had broken down a lot; friends sat together where they wanted to.

Turk said, "Seen the skipper this morning?" and from her sidelong look, Zelde knew the story was all over the ship. Well, her own feelings were clear enough-but how to get them across without saying too much?

"Not in Control, or here." Nothing more, yet-figure this out as it went along.

If Turk felt easy, it didn't show on her. "Look, Zelde- with the authority that cow has, he couldn't help it!"

"I know that. Wasn't sure you did, though."

Then they both grinned, and Zelde said, "Hey-where'd you get the teeth?" For the gaps in Turk's smile, all but one of them, were filled. On a real close look, the new parts wouldn't fool anybody-but who looked that close?

"The medic, Fesler," Turk said, "and Henty Monteil. She can build just about anything, once somebody tells her how it's supposed to work. And he figured which way these things had to be braced." Exposing the new teeth again, she smiled. "One more to go. Tomorrow, Henty says."

Again Zelde congratulated her friend; then Turk stood to leave for work. "One more thing," said Zelde. "I don't own Ragir Parnell. He says I do, but I don't."

Nearly an hour later, Parnell brought Eldra Siddenour into the galley. Zelde pretended not to watch. Moving slowly, the woman hung on his arm. Face puffed and slack- 95.featured-I've seen some hangovers in my time, but . . . When the two were done eating-Siddenour picked at her food, no appet.i.te to notice-Parnell led her out.

Twenty minutes later he came back, got a cup of coffee, and sat across from Zelde.

"Good morning." His voice didn't tell anything. She nodded. "Morning to you, too, Ragir. You look healthy enough. Not cheered a lot, though." "Zelde! Do you think-"

She couldn't reach his mouth but her hand moved as if to cover it. "Nothing you need to say. Except-if she's coming back any, I'll want some clothes kept in Third Hat's quarters."

He shook his head. "No. She's back to Summit Bay-in the air by now, I'd guess- and we'll be off-planet before her next inspection here. But, Zelde-"

"But, Zelde, nothing! I saw how you looked, being dragged out of here last night; that's all I need to know. If you'd seemed happy, now-well, that's still your own busi- ness. But I'd of thought your taste stunk."

He spread his hands. "I tried to feed her enough booze to pa.s.s her out." Zelde didn't speak. "Don't you want to know if it worked?"

"Not for me, no. For you, if you have to say about it." Like machinery running out of oil, Parnell laughed. "Do you know what the worst part was?" "Not hardly. I wasn't there."

"No." What his mouth did, then, wasn't any smile. "You'd think-but physically, age and fat and all of it, her body doesn't shame her. Any man who wanted to be with her, she could delight him. And she's a cleanly person-in the shower I had to keep her from falling down, but that's what got her awake again, d.a.m.n it. No-it's none of those things."

"Then what, Parnell? I wouldn't want her picture on the table, to look at over breakfast."

He shook his head. "It's not even that. Lying back, looking up with her face relaxed and smoothed out, her bones are too good to let her look ugly."

She waited, and he said it. "But I couldn't forget-I was in bed with that G.o.dd.a.m.ned UET mind."

Seeing the hurt in his face, she reached to touch him. "Poor love." And then he smiled.

96.Nearly a meter each way, the Nielson cube came in a box twice that size. Helping to unpack it, wearing heavy gloves that shielded her against stray discharges from the untamed device, Zelde saw that only the rough outline made a cube. The eight corners were beveled off to make s.p.a.ce for connector interfaces-capped now, but Parnell said they were all identical. The center of each face was sunken, and these six connectors were larger than the eight. And at the center of each of the cube's edges was a flattened part making room for a smallish terminal; each of these twelve leaked a steamy vapor.

"Eight, six, and twelve," Parnell said, during a pause in the work. "The eight- well, the prime diagonals of a cube are as close to a set of four-dimensional axes as we can get in only three. It's-well, Zelde, it's hooking mere s.p.a.ce into s.p.a.ce-time."

Knowing he really didn't expect her to understand, she nodded.

"The terminals on the six faces do their pulsing in our three dimensions." he went on. "And the twelve on the edges-they monitor and modulate, and basically keep the whole thing from turning into a big puff of nothing. And the ship with it."

He raised one eyebrow. "Do you know any more than you did before?"

"No." Zelde grinned. "But you do tell it good."

"All right." He turned to the entire work gang. "Come on-let's get the old cube out and this one in, before it warms up enough to go sour." And after another forty minutes the two were exchanged, each safely back into the grim chill that kept such a unit in one piece. Parnell looked for his Chief Engineer. "Harger? What do you think?"

"It'll take a while, skipper. The new cube's fully charged, of course, and more evenly than the old one. But I'm getting into the adjustments now-and this cube checks out solid. Which, I might say. is one h.e.l.l of a big relief."

"Good. Take your time: we've only begun refueling, and there's still all the cargo unloading and loading to do. No hurry."

And Parnell, with Zelde following, left the man to his work.

97.On the Great Khan's sixth day groundside, local commandant Delvin Trask visited ship. Refueling was complete; Trask came, he said, to take Parnell's receipt for the fuel ". . . and do my courtesy inspection at the same time." He arrived, Zelde noted, without Police escort.

A tall man-stooped and, except for a pot belly, thin- Trask apologized for not appearing sooner. He said he'd been down with a local virus-but the way Zelde heard it, the man was a lush who needed drying out pretty often.

"His wife, acting as his secretary, does the real work," Parnell had said. "He keeps his people happy by spreading the graft around, and a number of them are his relatives, anyway." He grinned. "In this case, nepotism pays. But the son-in-law- Cort Verrane-word is that he's the hatchet man, in case anyone gets out of line."

Verrane boarded with his father-in-law. The plump, smiling man-who said little, and combed his thinning blond hair often-stayed close to Trask, to one side and a step behind. Watching his eyes, Zelde decided the smile might as well be painted on a mask. Look out for that one!

In the control room, Parnell offered the commandant a routine scan of the ship's log. Trask didn't show much interest; he punched a few codes, looked briefly, and nodded. Venane nudged his elbow and whispered. The older man scowled and shook his head, but Verrane whispered again; the commandant moved aside and let him to the keyboard. Zelde looked to Parnell; his face showed no reaction as he said, "Commandant, if you're delegating your authority to inspect the log, will you please do so in writing?"

Verrane turned; his smile didn't change. "No need to be quite so formal, is there, Captain?"

If Zelde hadn't known Parnell, she'd have thought he looked friendly. "Just sticking to regulations," he said. "We don't want to show the next inspector any irregularities. Right?"

Verrane shrugged and turned away. Trask said, "But don't you want . . . ?" and the younger man shook his head. "Well, then." The commandant faced Parnell. "It all looks shipshape to me. Captain. I a.s.sume you'll have the usual summary tape transcribed for me, complete to your liftoff countdown, before you leave?" Parnell nodded. "Good. Then my staff can a.n.a.lyze it at leisure."