Long View - Zelde M'Tana Part 23

Maura-gin's due to relieve, so I can clue him as well as Lera, how we'll do the sling."

"Then saving everybody's time, I'll tag along, too."

In Control, Parnell tossed Lera Tzane a salute. "Good lift, Acting First." She looked like asking something; he said, "The business at the airlock-it's taken care of." Then he sat beside her. "Our destination is Fair Ball. Now, for the sling maneuver- ".

Zelde stood behind them as Parnell explained the upcoming course change; beside her was Carlo Mauragin. Yes-she understood it, she thought-but wouldn't try it on her own, without running through the figures a few 188.

times first. Carlo shrugged, and said, "It beats me; I guess I missed something."

Over his shoulder, Parnell spoke. 'Then rerun the figures unti l you catch it. And next watch, tell me how it works."

"Yes, sir." Mauragin stiffened. "I'll try."

Zelde said, "I need to do that. too. We can work on it together." Without answering, looking at no one, Parnell got up and left Control. On his face, Zelde saw the signs of pain.

But she'd promised to work with Carlo, so she did. For an hour, until he could duplicate Parnell's computer work. Then Zelde left, also-and in quarters found Parnell sleeping. She checked the pills-fine; he hadn't cheated. But on the bedside stand was a gla.s.s with dreg-drops of raw whisky. From the smell of it, Parnell hadn't bothered with ice.

Nothing she could do, for now. Zelde undressed and went to bed.

Out from Terranova, angling toward the gas giant, the ship drove-keeping that planet just enough off screen-center that the Great Khan could tap its gravity-well for the course change.

Big Mama, the Terranovans called it. It carried a girdle of flashing fragments-not like Saturn's rings in the home system, more of a belt of tiny, jagged moons. On her next two watches, Zelde ran the forward screens on hi-mag, to see all she could of this new thing, whi le she was here.

On the after screens, two dots hung. Ships from Summit Bay, they had to be- chasing after, but no way in time to catch up. Nothing to worry about, there.

The worry was Parnell-since the course change, he spent as much time in bed as out. Zelde kept him fed, gave him his pills and a little booze. She had Fesler checking on him-twice a day, at least. After the fourth visit, standing outside so Parnell couldn't hear even if he woke up. the man said, "I don't know what's wrong.

He was doing fine, I thought. But now-"

"He said, maybe his guts is stuck together, from the hurts he took at Escape.

Might be you have to open him, to fix it."

Fesler shook his head. "I hope not. Oh, I'll try if it's 189.

needed-with Dopples I did, and it worked. But that scared the h.e.l.l out of me-and so does this."

And there was a time 1 hated this medic! She touched his arm, a little hard but not to hurt. "Comes to need, you'll do it-I know. Just your best, that's all you do."

He put his hand over hers. "If it's enough-that's what counts. We need the captain." As Fesler left, she thought, And I need him more than anybody.

Stretched between two kinds of pills-but no booze at all-Parnell took control for the sling turn. Two hours of it, with closest approach a little later than halfway through. "Since we're on accel, not coasting. Of course, this is no place to coast."

Because only the drive field kept the huge planet's radiation belts from feeding them a killing dose in short order.

Not understanding, Zelde shook her head. "If you say so."

He grinned. The pills, just now, were balancing well. "Don't worry; you'll learn it.

It all takes time."

On the intercom, Dopples' voice was steady but still weak. "That's some planet!

Have I thanked you, Ragir, for giving me a portable screen in here? Well, I do."

"Any old time, Dopps. Besides, I might need your advice." They chatted a little longer; then Parnell said, "Oops-time for the first correction check."

"Right. Later, then."

Parnell didn't look shaky, but he never turned a k.n.o.b without first bracing his hand or wrist against the panel. Well, better cautious than not. . . .

He read off a set of coordinates, then another, finally a third, pausing each time for Lera Tzane to punch them into the computer. For a moment he hesitated, before nodding. "That's good enough at this stage-maybe all the way, if we're lucky."

Stretching, he leaned back. "Second check in twenty minutes-final, probably not needed but just in case, after another ten. Then nothing more until we've made the pa.s.s-when our course is back to zero curvature, or as near as makes no difference."

Big Mama, growing on the screen, kept Zelde from being bored. Parnell's second check went easily; he made one small adjustment. At the third he touched a dial, then shook his head and pulled the hand back. "It's so small a 190.

difference, likely I'd overcorrect. We'll do it all after pull-out." But Zelde saw the tremor as his hand, unsupported, moved from dial to armrest.

Going by the screen only, she'd have thought the Khan was bound to crash-if not into the gas giant itself, then into the flashing necklace around it. For a time she thought Parnell might intend to pa.s.s inside that belt-though the angle was bad-but then their sidewise drift showed more clearly and she saw they had good safety margin. Good, that is, if you liked to cut things close!

Now the planet pulled aside to loom-huge, that thing was-and slide gradually away, until it was clearly behind and slowly shrinking. For half an hour, nothing more happened. Then, again, Parnell began taking readouts. "Curvature point-oh- one." And after a time, "Oh-oh-one," then "three noughts," "four," and so on- until finally he said, "Curvature off the board, no indication readable. Five minutes more, for luck; then we correct course."

And about time, thought Zelde. The pills must be wearing off. Parnell's voice was strained, his color bad, his hands twitching. He looked once to her, quickly, then away again. And when the readouts came he said, "Zelde-I'll call the numbers; you set those dials. That way, we'll have a double check."

On the intercom, Dopples cleared his throat. But the First Hat said nothing, so she answered, "Sure, Parnell," and moved within easy reach of the control panel.

He spoke the coordinates steady enough, and looked to check her dial settings.

"That's good-that's it-we're pointed square for Fair Ball, if Terra's contacts knew their stuff. Now then-" He called the drive room. "Harger? You there?"

"Right, skipper. Do you have our course?"

"Correct as h.e.l.l. So-set and hold accel at point-seven max. At that rate, if I have it right, turnover's at day one-oh-three from liftoff-give or take one, for luck. AH right?"

"Acknowledged and logged. And congratulations for a clean pa.s.s. Anything else?"

"No-except, nice work, on the drive. It rumbles solid." Then, with the switch off, Parnell wiped his forehead. "You have it all logged here, Tzane?" The woman nodded. "All 191.

right-the watch is yours, then. Zelde-help me up, will you?"

So it was that bad, now-that he had to ask help in front of people. As if nothing was wrong-with no expression, she hoped, on her face-she gave him a hand up. And then support, as they left Control and went to quarters.

Once there, he sat heavily. "The pepper wore off-it leaves me without strength.

And the pain pill, mostly, too. But if I take another so soon-ahead of schedule again- " He shook his head. "Booze, I think, for now."

She didn't have a better answer, so she poured it for him.

When he began to doze-and lately it didn't take much drink, for that-she got him onto the bed and took his shoes off. At least he'd got by without another pill-that combination, she knew, was dangerous.

She went looking for Fesler and found him with Dop-ples. Not stopping to make polite talk, she told how it was with Parnell. "Fesler, you got to open him and find what's wrong. If you don't-well, he won't be lasting long, is how it looks to me."

Head propped on a pillow, Adopolous nodded. "It's a risk, Fesler, we all know that. But if he's willing. . . ."

The medic's hands clenched. "If only he could have been treated on Terranova- with real doctors. . . ."

"You know why not!" Zelde's breath came fast. "Going under for the operation, coming out of it and maybe talking loose to UET people-it's the ship, us, he was keeping safe."

Fesler spread his hands. "I know. Well, now that we're on course, I'll talk to him.

And if he wants it, I-I'll go in."

Dopples coughed. "No way you can build him up for it first?"

"Vitamin shots. He's supposed to have been coming in for them, but he misses more times than he shows up." The man shook his head. "I'll have him on IV first thing, before operating-with the pain drugs mixed right in with the nutriment. Those pills must be raising sheer h.e.l.l with his stomach and kidneys. I tell you-I'm really worried about what I may find."

Zelde squeezed his arm. "I know you are. But if worry helped, he'd be well by now."

She turned to go. Dopples said, "If you get up to Con- 192.

trol, look in on the side cubby, will you? I've a.s.signed that ex-Policewoman-and we're keeping it to ourselves that she ever was one-to tape everything she can think of, about how her former outfit operates. How it keeps tabs on us, and all. I'm going through her tapes, organizing the information so it can go into the computer, where we can all use it." Awkwardly, lying there, he shrugged. "Gives me something to do."

For a moment, Zelde stood silent. "Mr. Adopolous- here I'm so worried-up about Ragir, I forget to ask how you feel, even. I'm sorry-and I do want to know."

Dopples smiled. "I understand, M'tana." Then: "Me? Too slow, healing, is the size of it. I'm allergic to two of the best anti-infectants-Fesler found that out the hard way. And G.o.d only knows what was on that knife. Anyway, I keep getting these d.a.m.ned little pockets of infections-and when the fever tips our medic off, he has to find and drain them. The upshot is that I haven't built up any strength. But I'll make it, don't worry."

"Sure you will." But it was for me, he got stabbed! "All right-if Defose has a full reel, you'd like it right away?" He nodded. "I'll see to that." And now she did leave.

In the cubby, wearing a ship's worksuit with no rating marks, Torra Defose didn't seem like Police at all. She turned her recorder off. "Officer M'tana. I haven't seen you lately." She grinned. "The last time, my head was looping with the truth drugs- and you, watching me like a hawk after a mouse. I can't say I blame you, either."

Zelde shrugged. "You'd put us through some jumps, then. Had to, like you said, to get on here safe. I guess you know, you took some chances."

Serious, the woman's face went. "I do know. I had no safe way to communicate- safe for either of us. And on- groundside, you call it-we don't know ships' ways. So I tried to plan how to get aboard without endangering the ship-and it worked."

"You did pretty good. But it took luck-mainly we was too much under the gun to think straight. If-" Then she thought, why was she bothering to second-guess?

Frowning, Defose said, "I don't see it. Would you have killed me out of hand?

And what else could have gone wrong?"

193.

All right, tell her. "The power suit. It's not in top shape but it does work-and I'm trained in it."

Still with a scowl, the woman shook her head. "I'm not fami liar with those, but I do know their specs, from reading. Your suit projector couldn't match the one on the car-and neither could the suit."

"If I'd come out the main ramp, no." No point in mentioning that the suit's projector couldn't be used, anyway.

"But then how?"

"Freight ramp-let it down halfway, fast, and jump. In that suit I'd get to your car before it could turn to cover me. Then-do I have it, or don't I?" And as Defose nod- ded, Zelde said, "Or say I run and grab you before you get up the ramp. The hostage thing-would they shoot you to get me?"

"I-I don't know. With only a sergeant in charge-"

"Doesn't matter-the car was the best bet, anyway. I'd of gone for that." She had to grin. " 'Cepting, I didn't. Too much going at once, and me not in charge, really- waiting on orders, 'stead of making my own moves. Short of time, too. See?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. I think so. But what's your point?"

"Maybe, just that this ship here, it's not as dumb as you might think, from the way you foxed us up."

Torra Defose blinked. "I didn't think that. Your captain-your own man, isn't he?- is sick. Which I didn't know before I came here. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry he is."

No point to this; they were both on the same side now, weren't they? "Sure."

Then, shrugging: "What I came for-you got any full reels put together now, for Dopples?" Blank expression on the woman's face. "Mr. Adopolous- he's the one asked you to tape all the Police stuff for us."

"Oh, yes. I'm completing a reel; then I'll take it to him."

"You do that." Starting to turn away, Zelde faced back. "Look, Defose, I'm not out to push at you. You Escaped, you killed that t.u.r.d Verrane so the Underground at Parleyvoo has a chance now. You helped cover the agent that gave Turk Kestler the dope on Fair Ball. h.e.l.l, you saved this ship; you belong on here. It's just-"

"I know. Policeb.i.t.c.h-that's your word, isn't it? I'm not 194.

one, not anymore. But you'll be a time, won't you, before you can think of me in any other way?"

The lean face didn't give much away, but Zelde saw pain. Without knowing she was going to do it, she touched the other's hand. "Don't sweat, all right? First time we met you, down in Old Town, before any the rest of it happened-remember? Even that time you struck me too decent for-for Police."

Defose made a sort of smile. "And that's not the way you usually say that, either.

Right?"

"No. How I always said it, is the Committee Police their own d.a.m.ned selves."

Torra Defose laughed. And as Zelde left the cubby she saw the woman, face relaxed, still smiling.

As she went into Control proper, Lera Tzane was on the intercom. "All right, Carlo-this once, again. But make it fast." She cut the circuit and turned to Zelde.

"He's got some little doxy with him; I heard her giggling. No problem, but they lost track of time. So he'll be late relieving me."

Zelde scratched her head. "You going to log him?"

"Oh, why bother? If he continues to make a habit of it, then-" She shrugged.

"Incidentally, I tried to call Parnell. There's- no captain's instructions logged for my watch or the next. And he didn't answer. What do I do?"

Think fast. "I thought he called it in-or I'd've brought the sheet myself." Stepping forward, she checked the previous entries, then nodded. "Same as before, it should be; no change. You can punch it in that way."

Tzane looked at her. "Over whose authorization? Yours?"