Planet Pirates Omnibus Part 18

Sa.s.sinak whooped, and her tension dissolved in an instant. "You - That's ridiculous!"

"True, O Captain. So are some other people. Done grieving for Huron yet, or are you still feeling so guilty you can't enjoy your many admirers?"

"You're making me blush. None of your business, I'd say, except it is, since you're my physician. Well, yes, I have enjoyed normal - or at least pleasurable - involvement in the last few weeks."

"Good. About time. That boy Tim's in awe of you, by the way, so I hope you're going to let him back into your good graces sometime."

"Already done, fairy G.o.dmother, so let me be."

"Back to Kai, then. The toxin destroyed nerve tissue, so he's got sensory deprivation on some areas of skin - nasty, because he doesn't know when he's hurt himself. Where the tissue's not destroyed, it's stimulated - just like pain, but the brain can't register constant stimulus like that, so he just gets these odd stabs and twinges, and a general feeling of something very wrong, very deep. His blood count's off, which probably causes the exhaustion you noticed, and he's not sleeping well, which doesn't help. I offered to slap him in one of the big tanks, and let him sleep it off until we got him to Sector, but he refused. Which, in this case, took considerable guts, despite that display while you ran the tape."

"Umm. It bothered me, particularly in someone in his position."

"That Varian's got enough bounce for two," said Mayerd; Sa.s.sinak could detect the faintest trace of distaste, and knew that Mayerd would always prefer a patient to a patient's healthy friend. With that in mind, she suggested that Mayerd visit the survivors that afternoon, when the diagnostic unit had finished meditating over Kai's condition.

"I'd already thought of that. They'll need clothes . . . you were planning a formal dinner, weren't you?"

"To show off, yes." Sa.s.sinak chuckled. "You mind-reader: people will think you're a Weft if you keep that up. Raid my closet, if you need anything I've got - there's a red dress that might suit Varian."

"I've got a green that will be perfect for Lunzie," said Mayerd smugly. "And all Kai's measurements, so I've already located something for him."

By the time Mayerd stopped by to show Sa.s.sinak what she'd chosen, on her way to the sled, the stewards were giving Sa.s.sinak sideways looks that meant they'd like her to clear out so they could set up for dinner. She had elected to serve in her office, a more intimate setting than the officers' mess.

"I'm going, I'm going," she said, grinning at the cook as he came to survey the room's layout, with an eye to planning service. She stopped by the bridge, where everything seemed to be under control, and discovered that most of them knew about her ancestress . . . after all, she hadn't told Ford or the others to keep it a secret. She worked through the day's reports, noting replies to some queries back to Sector, and some pending - she'd hoped to have more information for Kai and Varian tonight, but apparently not. Something might come in any time, of course. Finally Arly caught her attention and pointed to the clock. Time to be getting ready - but she'd cleared most of her work, and would start the morrow only slightly behind.

As she went to her cabin to clean up, she found she could not quite a.n.a.lyze her emotions. Lunzie ... another Lunzie. No, not another Lunzie, but the the Lunzie. That hardly seemed fair to her little sister - but then nothing had been. She wouldn't think about that, she told herself, and poured another dollop of shampoo on her hair. Thank the G.o.ds that the cruiser didn't have to use Iretan water! Lunzie. That hardly seemed fair to her little sister - but then nothing had been. She wouldn't think about that, she told herself, and poured another dollop of shampoo on her hair. Thank the G.o.ds that the cruiser didn't have to use Iretan water!

But what would she be like? What could she be like? More like someone her elapsed age, or more like an old lady ... a very, very old lady? She had the file holo ... but that told her little. Her own file holo, the still one, didn't tell a viewer that much. Movement was so much of a person - she thought of this, wringing out her hair, and flipping it into a towel with easy practiced gestures. No two people even bathed alike, dried themselves alike . . . and what if her ancestress turned out to be prudish about s.e.x? That thought brought a blush to her cheeks. She looked at herself in the mirror, thinking of Mayerd's teasing remarks. What if she wasn't . . . what if she had Sa.s.s's own casual att.i.tude . . . and after all Ford was very good looking. No. Ridiculous. Here she hadn't even met her, and already she was thinking of that kind of rivalry with her great-great-great-grandmother?

Besides, Mayerd would be back before then, and could tell her - if she would, because doctors did stick together - and would it be worse, Sa.s.sinak asked herself suddenly, to lose a family because of long coldsleep, as Lunzie had certainly done, or gain one because someone down the line was alive when you awoke? She eased into the long black slip that fit under her formal evening dress uniform, and began a.s.sembling it: the black gown, skirt glittering with tiny stars, and the formal honors winking on the left breast of the bodice. Somehow the formals, jeweled as they were, seemed more remote from the events that earned them than the full-size medals that jingled softly on a white-dress suit. This was the first time she'd pinned the formal rank jewels of Commander on the shoulders; the last time she'd worn this outfit, she'd been a Lieutenant Commander at Sector Headquarters, on duty at a diplomatic ball. The long, close-fitting black sleeves were ringed with gold: the captain of the ship, even in evening dress.

A last look - the merest touch of color on her lips - and she was ready. The proper twenty minutes before the guests would arrive, and there was Mayerd, also ready, and Ford. They grinned at each other, and Sa.s.sinak resisted the temptation to check on her office. Ford would have done it. She congratulated Ford on the increased "coverage" of his chest... he had picked up more than a few impressive medals, in the years since she'd seen him last. Mayerd wore her Science Union badge, and the little gold pin that meant honor graduate of the best medical school in the human worlds. They chatted idly, waiting at the head of the ramp, and Sa.s.sinak was very aware that both were watching her closely, to catch her reaction to Lunzie. They'd said nothing except that her relative would "suit" her.

"There it is - " Ford gestured, and Sa.s.sinak caught a moving gleam in the darkness. Hard to see which was which, with so many bits of light shifting around, but Ford, as usual, was right. A four-seater airsled settled gently near the foot of the ramp, and the honor guard jogged out into place. Sa.s.sinak wondered, suddenly, if she should have gone quite this far without warning them . . . civilians, after all ... but they seemed to understand what the shrill piping whistle meant. And the crisp ruffle of drums.

Varian and Lunzie, long skirts swirling in the wind, led the way up the ramp past a rigid honor guard. Sa.s.sinak could tell they were impressed, though she had trouble keeping her eyes off Lunzie's face: she hadn't wanted to stare like that since she was a first-year cadet. Instead, she pulled herself up and saluted: appropriate to the planetary governor and her staff, but they'd all know it was for Lunzie. Varian gave a quick dip of the head, like a nervous bird, but Lunzie drawled a response to her greeting and offered a firm handshake.

For a long moment they stood almost motionless, then Lunzie retrieved her hand, and Sa.s.sinak felt a bubble of delight overcoming the last bit of concern. She would have liked this woman even if she hadn't been a triple great-grandmother - and she'd have to find an easier way to say all that. They had too much to say to each other! She grinned, c.o.c.king her head, and Lunzie's response was too quick to be an attempt to mimic - it was her natural gesture, too.

From there, the evening went quickly from delight to legend. Whatever chemistry went into the food, the drink, and the companionship combined into a heady brew that had Lunzie making puns, and Sa.s.sinak reciting long sequences of Kipling's verse. She noticed, as she finished a rousing version of "L'Envoi" that Lunzie had a speculative expression, almost wary. On reflection, perhaps she shouldn't have accented "They travel fastest who travel alone" quite so heavily, not when meeting the only member of her family she'd seen since Myriad. She grinned at Lunzie, and raised her gla.s.s.

"It's kind of a Fleet motto," she said. "Convince the youngsters that they have to cut free from home if they want to wander the stars ..."

Lunzie's answering smile didn't cover the sadness in her eyes. "And your family, Sa.s.sinak? Where were you brought up?"

It had never occurred to her that Lunzie wouldn't know the story. She felt rather than saw Ford's sudden stiffness, Mayerd's abrupt pause in lifting a forkful to her mouth. No one had asked in years, now: Fleet knew, and Fleet was her family. Sa.s.sinak regained control of her breathing, but Lunzie had noticed; the eyes showed it.

"My family were killed," she said, in as neutral a voice as she could manage. "In a slaver raid. I ... was captured."

Varian opened her mouth, but Kai laid a hand on hers and she said nothing. Lunzie nodded without breaking their gaze.

"They'd be proud of you," she said, in a voice with no edges. "I am."

Sa.s.sinak almost lost control again . . . the audacity of it, the gall . . . and then the love that shone so steadfastly from those quiet eyes.

"Thank you, great-great-great-grandmother," she said. A pause followed, then Ford leaped in with an outrageous story about Sa.s.sinak as a young officer on the prize vessel. The others followed with their own wild tales, obviously intent on covering up the awkwardness while Sa.s.sinak regained her equanimity. Mayerd and Lunzie knew the same hilarious dirty rhyme from medical school, and rendered it in a nasal accent that had them all in st.i.tches. Varian brought up incidents from veterinary school, equally raunchy, and Kai let them know that geologists had their own brand of humor.

As they lingered over their liqueurs, the talk turned to the reports Kai and Varian had filed on the mutiny. Sa.s.sinak noticed that Kai had not only moved better, coming up the ramp, but seemed much less tense, much more capable, during dinner. Now he described the details of the mutiny in crisp, concise sentences. Mayerd had said she'd begun a specific treatment for him, but had it really worked this fast? Or had something else happened to restore his confidence?

They were interrupted by Lieutenant Borander, who was still, to Sa.s.s's eyes, far too nervous in the presence of high rank. But his news was rivetting: the heavyworlder transport had tried to open communications with the Iretan settlement, and had not received an answer. Sa.s.sinak's party mood evaporated faster than alcohol in sunlight, and she noticed that the others were as sober-faced as she was. Lunzie pointed out that they had nothing to answer with - no comunits could last forty-three years in the open in this climate. But Aygar, Ford said, had not asked for communication equipment. Yet, when they all thought about it, the Iretans had been in contact with the transport before it landed. How?

"On what frequency was Cruss broadcasting?" asked Kai. Sa.s.sinak looked at him: whatever had happened, he was clearheaded and alert now. Borander answered him, and Kai gave a wicked grin. "That was our frequency, Commander Sa.s.sinak . . . the one we used before the mutiny."

"Interesting. How could he have learned that from the supposed message in the damaged homing capsule? It doesn't mention any frequencies. He's well and truly used enough rope ..." She called in Dupaynil, after a little more discussion, and the party broke up. Sa.s.sinak wished they'd had just a little longer to enjoy the festive occasion. But the time for long dresses and fancy honors was over - an hour later she was back in working uniform.

Chapter Eighteen.

The next morning, after several hours in conference with her supply officers, she began allocating spares and replacement supplies to the Iretans and the expedition survivors. Surely Sector would order them back to report, rather than expecting them to finish the usual cruise - and that meant they could spare all this. She put her code on the requisitions, and went back to lean on Com again. Better than brooding about Lunzie - the more she thought about that, the more unsettled she felt. The woman was younger, not older - apparently a fine doctor, certainly an interesting dinner companion, but she could not feel the awe she wanted to feel. Lunzie might have been one of her younger officers, someone she could tease gently. And yet this "youngster" had a right to ask things that Sa.s.sinak didn't want to recall. She knew, by the look in Lunzie's eyes, that she would ask: she would want to know about Sa.s.sinak's childhood, what had happened.

She saw a crewman flinch from her expression, and realized her thoughts had control other face again. This would never do. She wondered if Lunzie felt the same tangle of feelings. If she thought her ancestress should somehow be older, in experience, perhaps Lunzie felt that Sa.s.sinak should be younger. And yet she'd had that jolt of sympathy, that instant feeling of recognition, of kinship. They'd be able to work their way through the tangle somehow. They had to. For the first time since her capture, Sa.s.sinak felt a longing for something outside Fleet. Perhaps she shouldn't have avoided her family all these years. It might not have been so bad, and certainly Lunzie wasn't the stuff of nightmares.

She caught herself grinning as she remembered Mayerd's tart comments. No, Lunzie wasn't a raving beauty - though she wasn't exactly plain either, at least not in that green dress, and she had the warm personality which could draw attention when she wanted it. And Lunzie approved of her, at least so far. It will work out, she thought again, fiercely. I'm not going to lose her without at least trying. Trying what, she could hardly have said.

From this musing, the alarm roused her to instant alertness. Now what? Now, it seemed, the Thek were appearing, and demanding that the expedition leaders be brought to the landing site.

"Ford, take the pinnace," said Sa.s.sinak, ignoring Timran's eager upward glance. She had finally let him take an airsled on one of the supply runs, and he'd managed to drop one crate on its corner and spew the contents all over the landing area. One disk-reader landed on an Iretan's foot, creating another diplomatic crisis (fortunately brief: they were barely willing to acknowledge pain, which made it hard to claim injury), and Tim was grounded again.

While the pinnace was on its way, she tried to guess what the Thek were up to this time. They'd been acting like ephemerals, in the past few days, whizzing from place to place, digging up cores, and, unusual for Thek, chattering with humans. Then the Thek appeared above the landing grid.

"Large targets," said Arly, her fingers nervously flicking the edges of her control panel. They were, in fact, the largest Thek Sa.s.sinak had ever seen.

"They're friendly," she said, wishing she was entirely sure of that. She had enough to explain to the admiral now, without a Thek/human row. "Are they coming to see us, or that co-leader fellow?"

"Or them?" Sa.s.sinak pointed to the main screen, showing two of the largest Thek descending near the heavyworlder transport. "Umm. Let's treat it as diplomatic: Major Currald, let's have a formal reception out there, and," she turned, quickly pointing at officers with the most experience in working with aliens, "you, and you, and - yes, you. We'll a.s.sume a delegation's coming, and since we represent FSP here, they'll come to us."

By the time she reached Troop Deck and the landing ramp, two of the smallest Thek had planted themselves on the grid nearby. Around the bulge of the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan, she could see a section of the pinnace as Ford landed it.

But the Thek appeared to be far more interested in Kai than in the cruiser's welcoming committee. One of them actually greeted him, in recognizable if strained speech. Sa.s.sinak motioned her officers to silence and did not interrupt. Whatever was going on, she'd find out more by going along with the Thek plan.

The Thek offered a core to Kai for examination; he gave the coordinates of its original location. Thunder rumbled underfoot: Sa.s.sinak noticed nothing in the sky. Theks talking to Theks? Sa.s.sinak glanced at each of them in turn: the immense ones and a medium - huge one near the heavyworlder colony ship, the medium - large and relatively smaller ones nearby. After a moment's silence, Sa.s.sinak leaned forward.

"Kai, ask if this planet is claimed by Thek." Although she spoke as softly as she could, the Thek answered her instantly.

"Verifying." Then, a moment later, "Dismiss. Will contact."

Kai turned to Sa.s.sinak, a look between respect, frustration, and annoyance. Well, she had intruded on his private conversation. She shrugged, and tried to lighten the mood.

"Dismissed, are we?"

Apparently that worked, for she could see his lips twitching with controlled laughter. Ford gave her a fast wink, then smoothed his face into utter blandness as Kai looked at him. What had Ford been up to with the co-leader? The wink told her only that he'd have a good story to tell later . . . and she'd have to wait to hear it. In the meantime, she dismissed the honor guard, who departed cursing quietly at having been put into the tight-collared formal uniform in this heat if it wasn't really necessary, and invited Kai up for a visit.

He certainly looked better today, far more the sort of vigorous, outgoing young geologist who had been chosen co-leader with Varian. For a moment she wondered if he and Varian had ever paired up - and if so, why they weren't paired now.

But the real question was what the Thek were doing on Ireta. So many Thek on one supposedly unclaimed planet was as great a mystery as anything else. Kai ventured hardly any explanation, beyond saying that perhaps the Thek were "worried." Sa.s.sinak wondered if that was really all he thought, or all he thought he should say. She had no reason to hide her chain of logic from him, and went on to explain, watching closely for his reaction.

"A convocation of such size surely suggests a high degree of interest, Kai. And that old core - that was the same core which brought Tor?" He nodded, and she went on. "All those little Thek sucking up old cores - when they weren't frying fringes . . . you see my point, surely. Your EEC ship's records, and Fleet records, both list Ireta as unexplored. Yet you found Thek relics and the first Thek on scene appeared surprised at them. Doesn't that suggest a missing link in the famous Thek chain of information? Something happened, here on Ireta, to one or more Theks, which somehow did not transmit to the others?" Kai followed her argument but his expression settled on anxiety rather than relief. "The old core is of Thek manufacture," he said, almost reluctantly. "Unquestionably it's generated Thek interest. But I can't see why ..."

Sa.s.sinak felt a moment's impatience. The scientists always wanted to know why, before they halfway understood exactly what had happened. Or so it seemed to her. She was glad enough to put events in order, sure she had all the relevant parts, before worrying about why and what if. She let Kai and her officers go on talking, wandering their own logical or illogical paths through Thek behavior, the geology of Ireta, and the probable age of the core in question.

A light flashed on her console: message from the bridge. She thumbed the control on her earplug. "Sir, all those little Thek have landed near the original expedition campsite ..."

With two key punches, she had that up on one of the screens and the scene stopped Kai in mid-sentence.

"Every fringe on Ireta is homing in on our campsite," he said, his expression anxious.

It took her a moment to realize what he meant: the heat exuded by so many Thek would inevitably attract fringes, just as one Thek had attracted the fringe that had attacked Kai. Before she could think of something to rea.s.sure him, the screen showed new Thek activity as a score or more spun away crazily into the sky and offscreen. Now what were they doing? Kai looked as confused as she felt.

By this time, Sa.s.sinak felt the need of refreshment and, noticing that Kai looked a little wan, she invited him into the officer's mess. A few deft comments from her and Kai, and Anstel and Pendelman were into a lively discussion of Iretan geology with excursions into evolutionary biology. Sa.s.sinak listened politely enough, but with the internal feeling of the adult listening to eight-year-olds discussing the merits of competing toys. At least they were busy and happy, and if they stayed out of trouble, she might get some work done.

Varian's arrival added another bit of fizz to the meeting, so that Sa.s.sinak had no need to keep up any corner of the conversation. Relaxed, she let herself think about the Thek from a Fleet perspective. If the data relays had all worked correctly - and she knew whose heads would roll if they hadn't - they'd gathered more information about Thek in flight and landing today than Fleet had anywhere in its files.

Her technical specialists, now busily talking hyracotheriums and golden fliers with Varian, had already taken discreet samples of the landing grid and the plateau face. Those data, along with the observations of the large Thek sinking into the landing grid, should reveal more about the way Thek handled heat dispersion.

Varian broke into her musings with the kind of questions a planetary governor ought to ask, Sa.s.sinak noted. Were the Thek known to be interested in planet piracy? Were they indeed? She wished she knew.

The meeting broke up shortly after that, with Anstel now in the role of one of the "science officers" accompanying Varian and Kai. The rest of that day, Sa.s.sinak spent composing messages for Sector Headquarters, and poring over the first, incomplete replies to her queries. Fleet had to be informed that the Thek were there, and rather than be bombarded by stupid questions when she was likely to be busy, better that they be supplied with some sort of explanation . . . but the admiral would want all the data. In order.

Her original signals, asking for clarification of Mazer Star's Mazer Star's status, the Ryxi colony's status, and so on, had of necessity been brief. The incoming stack in her official file had its own priorities. Only one item surprised her, and that was "predominant owner" of the company holding t.i.tle to the heavyworlder transport: Paraden. status, the Ryxi colony's status, and so on, had of necessity been brief. The incoming stack in her official file had its own priorities. Only one item surprised her, and that was "predominant owner" of the company holding t.i.tle to the heavyworlder transport: Paraden.

She thought of the pale-eyed, red-headed young man who had tried to get her in such trouble in the Academy, and of Luisa Paraden's connection (of sorts) to the slaver she and Huron had captured. This time it was Arisia Paraden Styles-Hobart, holding fifty three percent, and not on the board of directors at all ... but Fleet had been able to discover that she was active in the company ... or at least A. P. Hobart, whose ID for tax purposes was the same, was the "a.s.sistant Director of Employee a.s.signment." Handy, if you wanted to hire a crooked man to captain your crooked ship.

She wondered where Randolph Neil Paraden had ended up: somewhere in Newholme? The treasurer or something? Surely not; Fleet would have noticed that, too. The good news was that the ARCT-10 had shown up - or at least its message to Sector HQ had arrived. Severe damage from a cosmic storm (Sa.s.sinak quirked her lips: "investigating a cosmic storm" was a stupid sort of civilian idea. s.p.a.ce had enough hazards when you tried to play it safe), some (unlisted) casualties, but "no great loss of life." Whatever that meant to a ship the size of most moons, with a normal shipboard population in the thousands in a variety of races.

They'd lost their FTL capability, and most of their communications, and spent nearly all the elapsed time hobbling toward a nearby system at well below lightspeed. No real hardship for those who lived their lifetimes on board anyway, but it must have been tough on the "temporary" specialists who'd expected to be home in six months.

And, of course, for the ones left behind on Ireta. Sa.s.sinak's hand hesitated on the console. Should she call Kai now, or wait until tomorrow? She glanced at the time, and decided to wait. They'd be getting ready for that gathering she'd heard about, and perhaps by morning she'd have a list of casualties so that he could quit worrying (or start mourning) his family. And those children - their parents on the ship would be old, or dead, by now. She could and did call up Mazer Star Mazer Star to confirm that she'd received Fleet clearance for them. to confirm that she'd received Fleet clearance for them.

"And you should receive some kind of official recognition," she told G.o.dheir. "There's a category for civilian a.s.sistance. Depending on the tribunal outcome, it might even mean a cash bonus for you and your crew; certainly I'll recommend it."

"Ye don't have to do that. Commander Sa.s.sinak ..." Captain G.o.dheir's screen image looked appropriately embarra.s.sed.

"No, but you deserve it. Not just for your quick response, although it's in everyone's interest to encourage honest citizens to respond to mayday calls, but for your continued willingness to help the expedition. I know you aren't designed to deal with youngsters recovering from that kind of trauma. And I know you and your crew have spent a lot of hours with them."

"Well, they're good kids, after all, and it's not their fault. And no family with them."

"Yes, well, I expect, with the Thek here, this will wrap up shortly, and you'll be free to go. But you have my grat.i.tude for your help."

"I'm just glad you weren't the pirate I thought you at first," said G.o.dheir, rubbing his head. "When you hailed us, that's all I could think of."

Sa.s.sinak grinned at him; she could imagine that having something like the Zaid-Dayan Zaid-Dayan suddenly pop up behind him could have startled a peaceful transport captain. "I was just as glad to find that you weren't an armed slaver escort. Oh, by the way, do you have as many dinosaur buffs as I seem to have brought along?" suddenly pop up behind him could have startled a peaceful transport captain. "I was just as glad to find that you weren't an armed slaver escort. Oh, by the way, do you have as many dinosaur buffs as I seem to have brought along?"

"A few, yes. They're convening at the main camp tonight, along with some of yours, I think."

"That's what I thought."

His expression asked if she had a problem with that, and she didn't, except to wonder if fanning the flames of the dinosaur enthusiasts had been such a good idea.

"I don't expect any trouble from Captain Cruss, with the Thek nearby, but still - "

"I'm taking precautions. Commander," he said quickly, not quite offended at her presumption. Sa.s.sinak nodded, glad he'd taken the hint, and willing to have him a little huffy with her. Better that than trouble in the night.

"I a.s.sumed you had, Captain G.o.dheir," she said. "But so many things aren't going according to Regulations already ..." He smiled, again relaxed.

"Right you are, and we'll be b.u.t.toned up tight. I'll tell my crew not to overdo the hospitality juice, whatever it is and wherever it comes from."

Dupaynil was waving at her from the corridor; Sa.s.sinak signed off, and turned to him.

"Captain, we got the homing capsule stripped," he said happily. "And a fine bit of imaginative writing that was, let me tell you. Imaginative wiring, too. We're still doing forensics on it. We've got surface deposit / erosion scans going, another seven hours on that, and there's a new technique for a.n.a.lyzing biochemical residues, but basically we've got Cruss and Co. in a locked cell right now."

"In order?" suggested Sa.s.sinak. Dupaynil nodded, and laid it all out for her.

"A fake, of course: a clever one, but a fake. First the homing capsule itself, which clearly shows the pitting and scarring one would expect from some four decades of s.p.a.ce travel. Except where the propulsion unit and so on were removed - not by natural causes, either, but by tools available to any civilized world. Then roughed up to a pretense of the distressed natural surface."

"Which tells you that the homing capsule went somewhere, then was broken apart, and returned - "

"Probably with Cruss in his ship, although not certainly. It might have been placed for him to find. Now the message . . . the message was clever, very clever. Ostensibly, it's the message Cruss told you, the one he let us 'copy' from his computer. It's not a long message, and it repeats six times."

Dupaynil c.o.c.ked his head, giving Sa.s.sinak the clear impression that he wanted her to guess what followed. "And then another message?" she prompted. "On the loop behind those?" "Precisely. I was sure the Commander would antic.i.p.ate. Yes, after six boring repet.i.tions, which any ordinary rescuer must have a.s.sumed would go on until the end, we found a sixty second delay - presumably the number of repet.i.tions coded the length of the following delay - and then the real message. The location of Ireta; the genetic data of the surviving heavyworlders, including the planned breedings for several generations; a brief account of the local biology and geology; a list of special supplies needed; a recommendation for founding colony size. There are, as you would expect, no destination codes remaining. We cannot prove, from the message alone, who were its intended recipients. For that we await the physical evidence of the sh.e.l.l; it is just possible that its travels are, in a way, etched on its surface. But what they sent was an open invitation: this is who we are, where we are, and what we have. Come join us."

Sa.s.sinak could think of no adequate comment. Proof indeed that the mutineers were intentional planet pirates. She took a long breath and let it out. Then: "Are you sure they intended it for heavyworlders exclusively?"

"Oh yes. The genetic types they asked for all code that way. Besides, I've now got the old Security data on the mutineers. Look, Separationists, but not Purists. All of them, at one time or another, were in one of two political or religious movements."

"And no one spotted this beforehand?" She felt a rumble of anger that no one had noticed, and therefore people had died, and others had lost over forty years of their lives.

Dupaynil shrugged eloquently. "Exploration ships do not welcome Security, especially not Fleet Security. They insist that their specialists must have the freedom to investigate, to think for themselves. Of course I am not against that, but it makes it very hard to prevent the 'chance' connivance of those whose a.s.sociations cause trouble."

"Umm. I expect that Kai and Varian will visit again tomorrow, Dupaynil, and I would prefer to withhold this until we have the physical data - or until something else happens. At the rate things are going wild, something else may indeed make disclosure necessary."

"I understand. When you're ready for me to arrive with the discovery, just let me know." He gave her a very Gallic wink, and withdrew to continue his investigations.

The next morning, Sa.s.sinak was glad that she had made it to bed at a reasonable hour: the Thek abruptly summoned her, Kai, Varian, and, to her surprise, the Iretans and Captain Cruss. She sent Ford with the pinnace to pick up the governors and Lunzie and recall any crew from the campsite.