The City Who Fought Part 21

He shook his head with a small, tssk of disgust. Impossible. The merchantman had been rich with treasure and it had just left the station. "Indications?"

"Great Lord, the background radiation is consistent with large-scale departures over the past five days." Baila paused, hesitant. "Lord, it is difficult to be certain, with the density of the interstellar medium here. Subs.p.a.ce distortion damps out very quickly..."

The small chill became fingers of ice stroking the base of his spine. His t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es drew up in reflex.

"I want information, not excuses!" he said in a harsh voice. "Ready the seeker missiles." If the accursed Bethelite cowards had warned the station-prompting the normal traffic to flee - they would destroy it and run immediately. He was nearly certain he had crippled the prey's communications apparatus in the pursuit, but "nearly" grilled no meat. But, if it had escaped, where was it? Or had the station done his work for him? A rich station would have cause to be wary of unexpected visitors. "Continue stealthed approach."

That meant running with the powerplants down, off acc.u.mulator energy, on a ballistic sublight approach.

Slow, they would take years to come near at this speed, but quite safe at a respectable distance. At any moment they could power up and close in swiftly at superluminal speeds. This was a modification of a tactic the Clan sometimes used against merchantmen on the outskirts of a solar system. And mey were dose enough that lightspeed was not much of a problem for detection purposes. Briefly, he considered running back on FTL for a few pa.r.s.ecs, to see if he could pick up traces of in or outbound traffic over the past week. Then he shook his head, rejecting that plan. Signal degraded too much over distance, arid his own trail would advertise his presence. While the station retained subs.p.a.ce communicator capacity, it presented the Clan with a deadly risk.

Taking time to consider a problem from all angles was no excuse for inaction. Strike the hardest blow you could, then see if another was needed; that was the Kolnari way.

"See if you can pick anything up from their perimeter relay beacons," he said. In dust this thick even local reals.p.a.ce beacons needed amplification. "Message, Great Lord," said Baila. "I would hear it" Immediately a woman's crisp voice filled the control center, "Warning all ships, warning all ships, SSS-90Q C is under Cla.s.s Two quarantine: I repeat, Cla.s.s Two quarantine. The following species are advised not to make port at these facilities under any circ.u.mstances." A list of alien species followed, most of them unknown to t'Marid.

"Human visitors are restricted to the dock facilities and the entertainment areas immediately adjacent to them. You are advised to continue on to your next port of call. Warning..."

The message began to repeat and Baila cut it off. "Further scan, lord: there are two debris fields. Both of them between us and the station. The one nearest the station is largely of natural ferrous compounds, probability ninety-seven percent-plus semi-processed asteroidal material. The other, nearest the Bride, is of metal and ship-hull compounds, finely divided. Computer a.s.sessment S that the ma.s.s represented by the metal debris is equivalent to the ma.s.s represented by the prey ship."

She touched several controls, and the multiple screens displayed a scene of tumbling sc.r.a.ps of halfmelted metal, no single piece larger than a meter wide or long. Most were a fog of metallic particles.

His eyes narrowed. The quarantine could explain the absence of shipping. Baila's a.n.a.lysis suggested that, either the prey ship, which he knew had been ancient, had disintegrated under the stress of redlining or the station had destroyed it. The former was more likely since no weaponry had been detected on the station. No doubt the truth of the end to the Bethelite refugee ship would be found in the station's records.

"Your appraisal?" Belazir asked his weapons officer.

"Great Lord," the man said, collating a probability run, "the bulk of the fragments are definitely the result of ultra-high temperature breakdown. The profile is completely compatible with sudden energy discharge from the main internal drive coil of a very large ship. Some of the other debris -" he called up relevant views "- show blast fragmentation. That could either have been the result of direct hits with chemical-energy warheads, or secondary propagation effects when the engine blew. The shockwave through the hull..."

"I'm aware of the phenomenon," Belazir said dryly. The weapons officer shrank back. Belazir t'Marid had fought his first s.p.a.ce engagement before the younger n.o.ble was born. "Continue scan and a.n.a.lysis. Inform me of any anomalies."

They blew up," Serig said.

"Just as they arrived? How convenient," Belazir said. He gnawed a thumb. "Possibly too convenient?"

"Possibly. However, we were expecting their engines to foil catastrophically at any moment They were sublimating bits of their cooling vanes for the last thirty light-years." * "True. Itisstillacoincidence." *j "Once is coincidence," Serig said in ritual tone, "twice is happenstance -" "- and the third time is enemy action, yes," Belazir finished irritably. "But for the station to be plagueridden at the same time?*'

"The sc.u.mvermin races are weak of body, lord," he noted.

Belazir signed confirmation. TTie seed of Rolnar was strong. It had to be, to have survived so long on a planet not suitable for human beings, and further devastated by so many centuries of reckless development and continual war with every nuclear, chemical and biological weapon ingenuity could produce. When the Clan fled a losing struggle, they had kept the tradition of culling any child who showed signs of vulnerability to infection. In feet, it was a stroke of fortune to have the enemy immobilized by a menace that was no menace to the Kolnari.

"Hold position. Call in the consorts." "Yes, Great Lord."

Belazir glanced at his communications officer. Her face was bright with excitement, too. He smiled. She was young; this was her first term of duty. He remembered well that sharp, eager feeling. He grinned. Ah, but he was feeling now, at the ripe age of thirty, that his life was half over.

"All captains confirming receipt of your orders, Great Lord. Moving into position."

"Excellent," he said, glancing back at the schematic Km have abvady given a cry of distress, oh rich and beauteous , he thought vindictively. The entire universe was in conspiracy against the Clan - against all of Kolnar and its children. Soon you mill scream.

Channa turned at her desk.

'Hi Joat, welcome * rome. I A relieved, shy smile greeted her. "Um ... gonna take a shower."

"You can use it," Channa said, sniffing. "When you're through, I want to introduce you to someone."

"Ah," Simeon said lighdy. "We're a family again."

"Shut up, you hunk of tin," Channa said goodnaturedly, throwing a wad of scrunched-up tissue in the general direction of the pillar. "How does this look?"

She punched a key to feed in the distribution of supply caches.

"Hmmm. Not bad. Okay, how about we seal off the following pa.s.sageways?" A schematic of several decks sprang up." If you didn't know about modern fabrication methods, that would look right for structural members."

"Good, good - what does that give us?"

"About a thousand people we can stick away in corners - the V list" Those were the ones that they hadn't had s.p.a.ce available to evacuate.

"n.o.body essential, I'm afraid," Channa said. They had agreed that they had to let essential staff take the risks, as their absence would elicit questions.

"No, but it'll cut down the number of potential victims quite nicely. Also, it'll give us a chance to scatter around some stuff that'll come in useful later. Ah, Simeon-Amos."

Tlie Bethelite leader's eyes were red-rimmed, but his smile brought a warm lurch to Channa's diaphragm. "I think I have mastered the basic administrative structure," he said. "It is not too strange."

Channa raised a brow. A 900-series station isn't too strange to a backworlder? she thought. j The thought must have been obvious, but Amos only spread his hands and tossed his head, setting aswirl the coal-black curls of his shoulder-length mane. The blue eyes twinkled beneath the broad dear brow.

Oooooo, Channa thought, and fought to bring her attention back to his words.

"In any large organization* xhere will be certain constants," he said. "The central authority; officers in charge of various departments; a structure for meetings to coordinate activities; procedures for routine decisionmaking, and so forth. Tips is not too dissimilar to my family's holdings on Bethel. We, too, were essentially coordinators of the activities of many independent entrepreneurs. There are no ranchers or farmers here, of course, but both communities have mining, manufacturing, education, cultural facilities..."

"Culture?" Joat ducked back into the lobby, toweling her wet hair. For a wonder, she had on something more formal than the shapeless, patchwork-colorful overalls that were current fashion among SSS-900-C's youth. "Like holos and virtie games and stuff?"

"Ahhh ..." Amos hesitated. He had been thinking more of choral song and traditional dancing. "The general principle is the same."

The servos had been setting out the evening meal. Simeon had programmed them to meet the basic dietary superst.i.tions of the Bethelite religion, although Amos had turned out to be flexible. Channa shuddered mentally at some of the things she'd screened in that Bethel text. How in G.o.d's name, for example, were they supposed to check that none of the materials had ever been touched by a menstruating woman?

They sat down, Amos murmured a prayer, and for another wonder Joat waited a second before grabbing the nearest bowl. She had turned out to be a monumentally unfussy eater, but in sheer capacity she belied the scrawny underdeveloped frame. Between- or sometimes during - mouthfuls, she grilled Amos about Bethel.

"Sounds dull," she said at last "I thought so, too," Amos said, pushing a bowl of steamed millet closer^aher. She shoveled several helpings onto her platband heaped them with sour cream and chives.

"Joat," Channa said gently. "That really doesn't go with pineapple slices, you know."

"Why not?" Joat asked, turning to her with a milk mustache on her upper lip. The girl licked it away with satisfaction as Channa searched for a reply, gave up, and turned her attention back to Amos.

"Hiding away all that stuff was smart of Channa," she said thoughtfully. "Always gotta have supplies in your bolt-hole unless you're fardlin* stupid."

"Sound strategy," Amos said seriously.

He certainly seems to be good with children, Channa thought, stirring her food around with her fork. Girls don't bother him. Not pre-p.u.b.escent ones, at least.

In her inner ear, Simeon began to croon an ancient song: 'Across a croooowded room..."

"Shut up," she subvocalized.

"This place has got more back-alleys than you'd believe," Joat was saying. "Not like a ship at all, really. You can get anywhere from anywhere and ain't n.o.body can stop you, if you know where you're goin'. Some of the places pinch grudly, but they're in-able if you're sveltsome."

"I would have thought it much like a ship of s.p.a.ce," Amos replied courteously. Channa could see his lips move silently for an instant as he puzzled out Joat's slang. That was no wonder. Half of it was her own invention.

"A whole other order of magnitude," Simeon said. "No ma.s.s limits on a station - the SSS-900-C wasn't expected to go anywhere. The outer sh.e.l.l was fixed, as well as some of the major facilities, but the rest was intended to allow organic growth up to a couple of hundred thousand people, max. We've found natural expansion is the best way to stabilize a real community, as opposed to a transient community, like a pa.s.senger vessel."

"That is good sense," Amos said meditatively. "On my family's estate, planning towns was similar. If you set down every detail, the place has no life. When Uncle Habib decides to put his tobacco store next to Aunti Scala's pastry shoppr Brother Falken's saddlery, and that brings an ice-cream parlor, it then follows that the town becomes a living and efficient ent.i.ty."

"Why do you talk so funny?" Joat asked.

"Why doyou talk so funny?" Amos parried, and they both laughed. "Because Bethel was cut off for so long. We did not even screen or broadcast data from other worlds, so our people's way of speech changed litde, and those changes differed from those in the Central Worlds, which had dealings with many other worlds and cultures."

"Central Worlds?" Joat asked. "Oh, you're fardlin' - 'cuse me - way off there. This is the hikstik, frontier, you know."

"To you, not me." He paused. "I think, Joat, that someone besides yourself should know of these hidden ways of yours."

"You should see it," she said enthusiastically. "You wouldn't believe what's back there!"

"I would very much like to see it,1* he told her gravely. "But, I have not much time left for my studies." Her face fell. "Still," he said," I think that it is important that trusted people, other than just you and Simeon, should know these back ways of yours. Would you be willing to show my friend, Joseph?"

"He's your head honcho, hey?"

"My brother and my right hand," Amos said seriously.

"Okay, if he's nanna grudly."

Amos gave up trying to interpret that remark and glanced over at Simeon's image in the screen.

"Grudly," the brain said in his most professorial. "An all purpose negative. In this context - 'not too grudly1 - stniight-laced, conventional, boring, unimaginative.** "No, no. To tel^the truth and shame the devil, Joseph was, in feet, a < p="">

"Thank you. And now I must return to my studies." He sighed theatrically and rose.

"I know how you feel," Joat said, shaking her head in resignation.

"He's made a conquest there," Channa subvocalized. "Wonder how he did it?"

"Joat is no longer a feral child," Simeon pointed out "We broke the ground for him. Being glamorous doesn 't hurt. And he listens to her. He's naturally interested in people, I think, under the iveird socvHvUgious stuffthey rammeddown his throat."

"You're right," Channa said aloud, looking dreamily at the now dosed door of Amos' quarters.

Well, Simeon-Amos, Simeon thought, you're a hit with both my girls. A petty observation, but couldn't he indulge in pettiness in the privacy of his own mind? '"Course I'm right," Joat said She was having more of the pineapple slices, fresh from the vats, lavishly doUoped with ice cream. "You flipping the sheets with him yet?"

*Joat!" Channa said warningly, reaching over to flick her on the ear with thumb and forefinger.

"Watch it!" Joat said, rubbing the offended lobe. "Ill report you to Gorgan the Organ." She grinned unrepentandy. "I know all about it, y'know."

"You may have observed - and I wouldn't put that past you for a nanosecond, but you don't understand what you've seen. You also have no manners." "Yeah, that's true," Joat said complacently, "bu needn'tact so smug about the lack," Simeon cutin. "Why not?" Joat asked. "Lots d^ way-neat stuff you can't do if you've got manners." i< my="" G.o.d,="" channa="" thought,="" looking="" up="" from="" her="">

All of them were looking terrible, but Doctor Chaundra looked old. Antt haunted as well. Channa was a little surprised. She would have thought him one of the ones who could handle the fear.

"Here it is,1* he said bitterly, holding up a small synthetic container.

Channa automatically glanced down at the box, a capsule dispenser, standard model, but looked more closely at him.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" she said anxiously. There were other medicos on the station, but only one Chaundra. Personal factors aside, he was also the only specialist with experience in original viral research.

"Tired is all," he said. The non-Standard accent in his voice was stronger than usual, a trace of liquid singsong. He stood for a moment by her desk looking at the box he carried, then he placed it in front of her. "They're ready," he said, pointing to it.

Channa touched the dispenser slot and it dropped a gelatin capsule filled with clear liquid into her palm.

"The virus," she said.

"Yes," he murmured. "1, who am a healer, have created for you a weapon."

"A nonlethal weapon for self-defense" she said in gende correction.

"Hopefully nonlethal. How can I be sure, with a genetically nonstandard target population? I cannot even be certain n.o.body on the station will die of it!"

"The probability -" Simeon began in a firm tone.

**_ js vanishingly small, yes, indeed," Chaundra said. Then he sighed. "There is no sense in complaining after the fact We have made enough so every man and woman on theta(&>n gets five. I can't imagine anyone being unlucty enough to need more than that. What you do, is bite down on it. Don't swallow and breathe it all over the Kolnari nearest you. It is contagious even if swallowed, you understand, but more so with direct contact. If the pirate wishes to kiss you, by all means let them."

"Ugh!" Channa said, making a face.

"I've alerted the group leaders to call in at the clink to collect dispensers for distribution to their people," Simeon said.

"Remind them, will you," Chaundra said, "that anyone who uses a capsule should report as soon as possible to the clinic for the protective shot. They'll get a light dose then, but their ... um... victim will get very sick indeed."

"Symptoms?" asked Channa.

"Headache, nausea, diarrhea, fever, possible delirium." He shivered. "I must get back to my lab. So much more needs to be done, and there is so little time to do it all in."

"You need to sleep," Channa said firmly. "Go to bed for a minimum of six hours."

"That's an order, Chaundra," Simeon told him, "as of now, you're off duty until tomorrow morning."

"Yes, of course." Chaundra nodded abstractedly. "And the volunteers," he continued, "have them in the hospital as soon as the pirates appear. We can accelerate the onset-"

"Go to bed!" Channa took him by the arms and gave him a little shake, finally getting his startled attention.

"Oh..." He smiled. "Good idea. Um..." He paused at the door and blinked. "Oh, yes. Joat - I have met young Joat She is a bit... more mature than I thought she was." He frowned, looking concerned. "Do you think it will be all right, their being together so much? Her and Seld, I mean."

Channa blinked. At least n.o.bodyJias been unkind enough f^ Q to mention any grizzly tales of Joat's life story, she thought "Uh, I don't think it will matte#" Simeon said, slightly amused. "They'll be kept weil-occupied, you know, and they are neither of them physically adult."

"You are very off-handed for a proper father of a daughter," Chaundra saicl owlishly.

"Well, I am her father - or will be when the papers are completed. Truly, Chaundra, I think we can depend on Joat to be responsible. I trust her. She may operate on her own code of ethics, but she is more consistent about it than many adults I have encountered. I'm not worried."