Long View - Zelde M'Tana Part 28

Oilman Charvel had the watch. He wasn't doing much, though, because the man Paskow stood over him-and, by the looks of things, talking fast. The comm-panel seat was vacant; would that be Paskow's? She walked over, saying nothing until Paskow looked around, saw her, and shut up. She stopped behind Charvel's seat.

"Paskow-you on duty?" He nodded. "Where's your station?" He pointed to the communications console. "Then get your a.s.s back to it."

He moved away. Zelde didn't look after him; if anything needed doing, that was Turk's job. She moved around so Charvel didn't have to crane his neck to see her.

He looked nervous; she didn't want that, so she smiled. "How's your watch going, Acting Third?"

"All right, I suppose. Nothing I've needed to ask help for." His mouth twitched.

"Paskow-I was about ready to send him back to station. But, you see-I'm not used to giving orders."

She had to chuckle. "Me either, until lately. You got to work at it." She nodded toward Paskow. "That one bothering you?"

"I-" He shook his head. "No, not really." "See that he don't." She sat beside him, in the auxiliary control seat. "Now then-why don't you run me through what you been learning? That's why I'm here early."

Tense at first, Charvel loosened up as he talked. In her mind, Zelde checked off what he probably knew already, and what she'd told him herself. The rest of it had to be from Lera Tzane-and by the time he was done, Zelde was impressed. Toward the last she caught and corrected a couple of mistakes, but on the whole: "Not bad; not bad at all! I guess you did come on watch early, like we'd said."

"Yes. Officer Tzane stayed over with me, for more than an hour." Embarra.s.sed, his laugh sounded. "I feel as if my head were so stuffed with facts that-" He stopped, pointing a finger. "There! On that screeen-a blip I don't understand. It happened once before, but didn't recur, so I- look! There it is again."

She saw the screen, and how the dials had set its function. Uh-huh-unless she had it wrong, that was another ship, out there.

222.

She switched relay to Dopples' terminal. Turning to Charvel, she felt how tight her grin was. "This is one time I'm not too proud to get some advice, myself."

She hit the intercom switch. "Mr. Adopolous-you awake?"

Seconds seemed long; then his voice came. "I'm here, M'tana. What's this you're showing me?"

She told him. "At least, that's how it looked before, when we met the Hoover." He didn't answer; the blips increased.

Finally he said, "Can you get me the relative courses?"

She wasn't sure. Charvel touched her hand. "I can- that's one thing I learned on my old job, but never had occasion to use it." She nodded, and he began feeding data and sampling readouts. Watching, she thought she'd remember how it went, next time. When he was done, they both waited.

After a time, Dopples said, "I have it now, I think. Overhauling us at a slight angle from-oh, call it above and to your right. A close pa.s.s, but no intercept. Just a second, here." Then, in his voice, she heard satisfaction. "Yes. We're still accelerating, of course, short of turnover. The other ship's on decel, but hasn't been for long-since it still has some speed on us. So obviously it's on a considerably longer run." He paused. "Destination? Could be the same as ours, or possibly Johnson's Walk-from here, the angle between those two isn't all that big. There's not enough data, yet, to pin it closer."

Zelde cleared her throat. "Fine-but how you want me to handle this? You rather take it yourself, through this relay?"

No pause now. "You'll have to do it, M'tana-my screen only receives, and an off- screen voice would seem fishy. And as to how-I think you know, don't you? From the last time?"

Oh, sure. "Yeah. Listen-but don't answer until we have to, to look right." Except, Paskow was on comm and she didn't trust Paskow. "Just a minute, Dopples." Too late, she realized what she'd called him-but Adopolous made no comment.

She turned. "Charvel, I'm taking Control; you take the comm. Paskow, you're relieved. Go get a meal or some sleep, or something."

223.

"Why?" The blond man sounded peeved. Too bad, that was. . . .

"Because I'm feeling so kindly, you get off early. Now move it." When the man was gone and Charvel sat in his place, she watched him tune the comm for ships'

signals. Then, on the intercom: "Mr. Adopolous? How I said-I didn't mean-it just came out, was all."

"M'tana! This' situation's serious. Don't waste time on trivia." He gave instructions-full feed of offship signals to his terminal, but no return relay.

"Anything I say to you stops in Control." A pause, and then: "Dopples out."

Charvel knew his business; soon Zelde heard the special hiss of ship-to-ship signal- but no modulation on it yet. She sat, watching the blips but not thinking. When Charvel spoke, she had to ask him to repeat.

"Officer M'tana-is anything wrong?"

"No. It's just-sometimes people surprise me."

The blips showed the other ship closing; now and then the channel hiss mumbled, but no words came through. Turk went to bring coffee and a midwatch snack, and Zelde took a minute to visit the off-Control latrine, while she had the chance.

Sooner or later it had to happen; the incoming signal came clear. ". . . can't ID your insigne yet, even on high mag, but it won't be long now. If you hear me -this is Graf Spee, Ilse Krueger commanding. Come in, please. . . ."

Then, under the ionic confluence of solar winds, the voice faded. Star s.h.i.t, Parnell called it-and how are you now, Ragir, love?

Soon now, Chanticleer had to answer. Zelde used Par-nell's trick-taping what she said and having Charvel distort it past understanding. Until on the intercom, Dopples said, "Next time, let them read you. Good luck, M'tana."

All right; Zelde braced for it. When Graf Spee next spoke, the woman's voice came deep and clear. "We have you close up on visual now. Chanticleer, is it? Come in, please."

A deep breath, then Zelde motioned Charvel to send her voice. Do it like Parnell did with Bernardez. "Chanticleer to Graf Spee-good meeting, out here in no place."

What 224.

next? Don't tell any more than she had to. . . . "What news from Earth?"

She'd forgotten the distance lag; for a time, Ilse Krue-ger's questions continued.

The woman paused, and said, "Earth? Twenty planets' years behind us, at least.

You tell us, more likely." A cough. "But I've identified myself and you haven't.

Who's there, for peace' sake? Anyone I know? Ilse Krueger here, as I've said."

Keep it simple; don't say too much. "Captain Ragir Par-nell sends his respects and regards." She hoped she had that right. "If he can get up here before we lose signal, he will." True enough. "Speaking for him, this is Second Hat Zelde M'tana."

Even before she heard Dopples curse, she knew she'd said the wrong thing.

The ships were close now; on a side screen Charvel had an in-ship picture. Zelde saw a small blonde woman-and it worked both ways, for the woman said, "You're a big one, aren't you? But cut the s.h.i.t! You're Escaped, the same as we are. So we have to talk fast, while we can."

Hardly any timelag now-when Zelde didn't answer, Krueger said, "Come on, will you? Chanticleer and Graf Spee aren't UET insignes-and neither of us put 'the' in front of them, and you called yourself Second Hat, not Second Officer." On the small face, her scowl looked grim. "Did you ever hear of a woman commanding a UET ship? Quit stalling, M'tana! There's no time!"

Dopples said, "Exchange all the information you can. Fast!"

No time to think. "All right, Krueger. What you want to know?"

The woman grinned. "More important is what you should know. Tape this next- it's on scramble, you can't read it-and punch it into the computer center of any Hid- den World you reach. Ready?"

"Sure. Shoot it." Charvel flipped switches; Zelde hoped he knew what he was doing. For nearly a minute the screen went to chaos; then Use Krueger reappeared.

"I hope you got that. Now then-where are you headed?"

What to do? "Tell her!" Dopples said, so Zelde did.

"Good. So are we--but we'll have left before you can get 225.

there. Here-record these computer access codes. They'll give you all the mail-drop info at Fair Ball-including the codes for any place you could reach in your next jump." Krueger smiled. "It's all part of the service. When you get the chance, pa.s.s it on."

When Charvel nodded that he had it all, Zelde said, "I- we do thank you. We're new, you see, and-"

"And can use some help to get oriented. I know, M'tana-we've been the same route and it's never easy." Signal lag was growing again. "One more thing-and it's important. In case the scramble tape I sent you doesn't .reach all the proper places, log this-and enter it, any Hidden World you land on." A second's pause. "Here's the message. Ilse Krueger agrees to Tregare's terms and will try to meet his rendezvous.

Place and time, both."

Tregare again? Think quick. "Might help if I knew what you mean."

Krueger's eyes widened. "Yes-it might, at that. Put it this way. On any Hidden World, use the codes I gave you and leave word of yourselves-and of me-for Bran Tregare. And if you ever happen to run into him, you listen." Krueger spoke to someone out of view, then back to Zelde. "I think that's all of it, that we can do now.

In case either of us thinks of anything more, let's keep the channels open until we fade out. All right?"

Zelde cut transmission, to ask, "Mr. Adopolous- anything else we should do here?" "I can't think what. Dopples out."

Back to the offship channel. "Like you say, Graf Spee, it's been fine." How to say it, now? "Good speed and good landings."

Was that how Parnell had said? She couldn't remember. And after Krueger returned the wish, nothing more from Graf Spee; the blips got fewer and dimmer, and then just plain quit.

One thing, though. "Dopples out"-twice, he'd said that Her own relief crew was here; Charvel's watch left. Gil wanted to talk, but she had too much on her mind; he'd have to wait.

Turk came over and half sat on the armrest. "I think Charvel's worth trusting; I expect you already figured that." Zelde nodded. "That Paskow, you should lock up, 226.

since you don't have grounds to s.p.a.ce him. The Bellarn woman, I don't know yet.

There's more of them in on this, and I have one name that's not on ship's roster at all-first, last, or middle."

Zelde looked up; Turk shrugged. "It could be a code name, like in the Underground. But the person behind Mauragin-all the name I have is Franzel."

Zelde gripped Turk's hand. "All right. Thanks. We'll see about it later."

The rest of the watch, nothing much happened. When Lera Tzane came to relieve Zelde, she, too, agreed that Charvel would make a competent Acting Third. Lera didn't mention Carlo Mauragin, so neither did Zelde.

She and Turk started downship together. The older woman kept glancing at her but said nothing. Zelde frowned. "Something bothering you?"

"Mauragin. How long do you think you can keep him on ice this way? You'll have to do something, and fast."

Zelde thought, a moment. "When Parnell or Dopples is in shape for it, Carlo goes to trial. I can't sit as judge, that's sure. And Lera's not the type. So for now-we wait, I guess."

Turk made a face. "We do-but will Carlo's gang?"

To that, no answer; Zelde shrugged. "Maybe Parnell's up to talking, now. You coming along?"

Turk grinned. "How else?" They found Fesler at his desk, and the medic agreed that Zelde could see the captain. At the door to his room, Turk stopped. "I'll stay out here."

Zelde entered. The light was better this time, and Parnell was awake, and turned to see her. His face looked pale and pinched, but she smiled. "h.e.l.lo, Zelde."

She went to him. He said, "Mind the plumbing, now"- as if she didn't know that!

She made her embrace gentle, and her kiss. Then, carefully she sat on the bed's edge, where she could hold one hand.

"Ragir, love-how's it all go, now?"

His brows raised. "You'll have to ask Fesler. I'm still too full of dope to count my own legs and get the right answer."

Smiling, she pointed a finger once and then again. "Two, 227.

I make it. But I mean, how you feel-tired or rested, wound up or relaxed? You got any good appet.i.te yet?"

"Hmm. Tired, relaxed, not hurting-enjoying what food they give me, which for good reasons isn't much, yet."

Yeah-a length of gut cut out. Should he ought to be eating, at all? Well, she had to believe in Fesler or else give up on all of it. She said, "You feel like hearing about the ship? Nothing that can't wait, if you're too tired."

"Go ahead-lying here, I can use some new thoughts." So she told of the new insigne being placed, and then about pa.s.sing in talk-range with Graf Spee. "You think we done right, Dopples and me?"

He pursed his lips, then nodded. "Yes. With the woman eager to give us information, she has to be straight." For a moment he drummed fingers against the bedside stand. "Krueger-yes, I know of her, by hearsay. Smallest person ever to survive the Slaughterhouse, all the way to officer grade. But-" Shaking his head, he scowled. "She shipped with my friend Doul Falconer; he was First and she was Second on-I forget the ship's name. But if they Escaped, where's Falconer? Off the ship by then, I hope. Otherwise I have to a.s.sume he was killed. . . ."

He seemed sunk in reverie. "Parnell? Something else to talk on, but not if you're too tired. I mean-"

His face toolc on the look of command. Too tired? Nonsense! So she began, about Carlo Mauragin. Not all-she didn't want him knowing he'd been cut more than Fesler intended-but most of it. "So-doped to sleep, Ragir, you did feel the jar, when that b.a.s.t.a.r.d tried to shake Rooster loose from the ship."

His expression changed. "So you've locked Mauragin up, waiting trial." He shook his head. "Dopples will have to preside-the situation won't hold together until I'm free of all this tubing, fit to be moved. You go see Dopps. Te'll him, as soon as Fesler agrees he's ready, he's to try Mauragin. To convene a panel of his fellow Control officers, plus Harger. Now-what charges are you specifying?"

"I don't know that stuff, Ragir. I thought maybe you. . . ."

Weakly, he moved one hand. "Yes. Well-for a start, subversion. You have Tzane and Kestler as witnesses-and Defose, too. I a.s.sume they can find others. And for background you can use his lack of punctuality, and so forth."

228.

He coughed and fumbled at the bedside stand, but was lying too low among pillows to see what he reached for. "Water, Zelde?"

She got it for him, and held it while he sipped. "Thanks. Now then-maybe he tried to kill Rooster and maybe he didn't, but I don't think that charge is provable.

Where's his motive?" And she couldn't tell him-that he was also a target.

"It's suspicious, certainly-no tape, for instance-but the court has to consider that he could have seen a threatening blip." He shook his head. "It might be best, Zelde, to settle for an Officers' hearing, and simply demote him for laxness and insubordination."

"And leave him loose to connive with this gang he's building? I'll call him out first. And maybe, I guess, I'll have to."