The City and the Ship

by Anne McCaffrey

  "Uh. Yes. Alvec will be taking all of you on to a quarantine facility where, hopefully, you'll be cleansed of any trace of this disease."

  Seg nodded positively at her.

  "At least Seg firmly believes so."

  Joseph's eyes narrowed and the cant of his head became alert.

  "And you, Joat? Where will you be while we are being purged?"

  Back to Joat, she thought, we're making progress.

  "I'm taking the other fighter and I'm going to get Bros Sperin."

  His brows rose. "Just like that?"

  "Suggestions are welcome," she said.

  "I will go with you."

  "Amos needs you," she said. "And so do Rachel and the children. This isn't like the SSS-900-C. You can't just act for yourself now; you're a father and a husband, Joe."

  "I am also a man. And I have a great need to see this finished, Joat. If I can, I will kill Belazir. He has done too much to us. I cannot live with my hatred."

  Joat sighed. She knew what he meant. If there was one thing she understood it was how unsated rage and hatred could poison your life.

  "I wish Amos were awake to talk you out of this," she muttered.

  I would not, Amos thought into the pause that followed. I know my brother's heart too well. And he is right. He has a great need to take action. That is his destiny, Joat, do not fight him. You cannot forbid fate.

  "But he's not," Joat continued. "And I admit I'm selfish enough to be glad of your company, Joe. I've got some stuff to take care of first, then we'll suit up and meet at the air-lock." She cut off contact and sat back, her hand idly stroking her chin. Suddenly Al's voice startled her out of her reverie.

  "Hey! You don't even ask me? I been watching your back for how long and you don't even ask me?"

  "I'm asking you to take Amos and the rest to that Clenst facility. And who else would I let pilot the Wyal?"

  "Rand," he said positively. "You know it can do it."

  "You also know that I insist on at least two competent pilots aboard, including the AI. That's minimum safety rules, Al. I wouldn't leave this many lubbers with less. Especially since one of them is my adoptive mother's sweetheart. C'mon Al, don't give me a hard time over this. I need your support."

  There was a long pause, redolent of ill temper and resentment. Then, "Okay," he mumbled, stabbing viciously at the firing stud.

  His plasma gun fired an ultra-miniaturized, laser-triggered deuterium fusion pellet focused by magnetic fields. The abandoned fighter exploded in a brilliant burst of sun-hot violence, the whole mass of it reduced to gases in seconds.

  Alvec's face-plate darkened to black automatically, protecting his eyes. He felt better, not perfect, but better. With a wry smile he maneuvered the fighter into position just over the air-lock and waited for Joat to grapple him.

  * * *

  "I don't want to do this," Seg mumbled mutinously.

  Joat rolled her eyes with exasperation.

  "Can you get Amos back on his feet?" she asked reasonably.

  He shook his head. "No, not without more elaborate lab facilities. There are too many variables."

  "Can you do anything else for Karak?"

  Seg's mouth sphinctered shut in distress.

  "No," he said at last. "The serum will either help him or it won't. Only time will tell."

  "Well . . . you can help me. And you can help Bros Sperin by helping me. So do it," she said through gritted teeth.

  "But it's wrong. Don't you understand?"

  Joat's lips thinned to a straight line and she leaned forward in her chair, her eyes holding his.

  "You wanted to be a part of Sperin's world. Well, now you are. Sometimes you're called on to do hard things, Seg. It's not like I'm asking you to kill him, for crying out loud!"

  Kraig's eyes bugged and he flicked his gaze frantically between them. But his lips were compressed into a firm white line. As though he'd resist speech by sheer willpower.

  "And if we don't get the codes and call signs from this man, an even more unethical bunch of people are going to rip Bros Sperin into little, screaming pieces!"

  She sat glaring at Seg. "Meanwhile, I'm sitting here, captaining a blasted hospital ship, doing nothing! Oh, Central Worlds is sending help," she said quickly, cutting off Seg's protest.

  "Just as soon as ever they can," she added sarcastically. "And you and Clenst are sending help, again, just as soon as they can. But I don't trust any of them, because they don't care! You know who cares?" She tapped her chest. "I do. They took him off my ship, and as far as I'm concerned that makes it my responsibility. So you choose one of those drugs and you inject him. Or I will."

  * * *

  In the end, Seg chose the drug that induced pleasure and an overwhelming desire to please. Kraig, awash with glorious sensations and having the time of his life, surrendered every secret he knew, up to and including the combination of his locker.

  He even approved Joat's cobbled-together mercenary uniform.

  "Oh yeah!" he enthused. "It's black an' it's tight. No one's going to look further than that."

  Joat raised a brow. "Thanks," she drawled.

  "No, problem, black and tight, way to go. Mmmmmmmm."

  Joat looked uncertainly at Seg.

  "He'll quiet down as the drug wears off," Seg assured her.

  "Jeeeez, I hope so," Alvec growled. "I don't like the way he's lookin' at me."

  "At everybody," Joat agreed. Then she shrugged. "Seg, would you join me in the galley please?"

  Puzzled, and wondering if he was going to receive another lecture the Sondee followed her into the galley/lounge.

  There was a display film covering the tabletop, and beside it was a box about a meter long and half as wide and deep.

  Joat inserted a datahedron into a slot at the edge of the display film and a schematic blossomed upon the screen. Seg automatically leaned towards it and began to read. After a moment he glanced up at Joat, read a bit more, flipped through several more schematics and then straightened. He looked at her in perplexity, a most unhappy look on a Sondee face.

  "This is top secret," he said.

  "This is synchronicity," Joat said with a grin. "Simeon and I were working on this idea for a signal jammer and I'd almost finished the prototype when Clenst announced their own version. Talk about disappointed." She pursed her lips and shrugged. "All for the best though. If we'd sold it then we wouldn't have it here to use. What I need is help in finishing up the dispersal unit."

  Seg checked her data.

  "You manufactured ten thousand transmitter/receivers by yourself?" he asked in wonder.

  "It's not that hard to make 'em," Joat said. "And as you've noticed it's a long way between systems. So time isn't a problem."

  "It's amazingly like ours," Seg murmured. "Except . . . I think the sine-wave control function may be a little better. For some purposes."

  "Well, the concept is identical. Lots of miniature receiver/transmitters catching signals and sending them back out with various time lags. Result; hopelessly garbled messages. Think it'll work?"

  "Actually . . . in some ways it's more efficient than our design. Clenst might be willing to negotiate for those improvements."

  "Music to my ears," Joat said, smiling. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

  "I see you're using a rocket propulsion system."

  "Keep it simple," she agreed, "that's my motto."

  "Have you got rocket fuel?"

  "You purists," Joat scoffed. "All we need is a volatile liquid." She put a couple of bottles of cleaning fluid on the table. "We'd never have gotten farther than the moon if we'd waited for guys like you. If it'll make you feel better I've got a form you can fill out before we begin."

  Seg laughed nervously.

  "There's no control-board indicated on your design," he objected.

  "That's because there are cheap, readily available ones already on the market. Why reinvent the wheel?" Joat slapped a tiny control-board on the table beside the cle
aning fluid. "That's a spare from the food processing unit. So, it'll think it's dicing carrots when it fires up the rocket. I won't tell it if you don't."

  All of Seg's eyes were shining as he smiled delightedly at her.

  "This is real hands-on, seat-of-your-pants stuff, isn't it?" he said enthusiastically.

  "Hands on the seat of your pants?" Joat asked, bemused. Jeeez, these Sondee have weird sayings. "Whatever you say, Seg."

  * * *

  Joseph was fully suited when she met him at the lock, her helmet balanced atop the box in her arms. With a glance at the box he placed the helmet over her head and locked it down. She smiled her thanks nervously.

  "Our suits look awful," he complained. "They look like they have been painted."

  "Nothin' we could do about it," Joat said with a shrug. "Kraig said they had to be black." She snorted in disgust "Only the Kolnari would insist on black space suits. But then, I can't see them rescuing someone who managed to drift off. So why would they want to make them visible enough to pick up easily?"

  Joseph grinned at her, his blue eyes alight with a fierce joy. "I am going to eat Belazir's beating heart," he said happily.

  Absolute cold flashed over Joat's body and she stared at Joseph as if she'd never seen him before.

  "Joe," she said quietly, like a patient mother addressing a particularly wanton five year old. "This is a rescue mission. We can't stop for lunch. Especially if we want to get away. So, we're not going on a Kolnari hunt, is that understood?"

  His mouth twisted and his eyes flickered away as he nodded.

  Joat kicked him in the shin.

  "Don't you patronize me," she snapped. "Either it's understood that I am in command and that our mission, our sole mission, is the rescue of Bros Sperin, or you're not going. End of story."

  "I need to finish this," he told her, his voice so rough it was almost a growl.

  "But this isn't the time." Her eyes held his. After a moment she smiled. "If we can carry this off, Joe, Belazir will eat his heart out for us."

  * * *

  Twelve hours later they received a tight-beam message from the Wyal.

  "Greetings, my brother," Amos's voice was husky from prolonged thirst, "and Joat, my friend."

  "My Lord!" The joy in Joseph's voice seemed to brighten the inside of the cramped fighter.

  "Good to hear from you, Amos," Joat said with a relieved grin.

  "It is good to be able to speak, I assure you. I wanted to tell you that my prayers go with you."

  "Every little bit helps," Joat assured him.

  "Thank you, Benisur. Your blessing strengthens my purpose," Joseph said.

  "So if you could clarify his purpose for him I'd appreciate it," Joat suggested. "He hasn't spoken to me since I told him he couldn't eat Belazir's heart this trip."

  There was silence for a moment.

  "Surely, my brother, you would not needlessly risk your life. There is Rachel to consider, and the children. And I would find it hard to bear if you were to die like a fool."

  Wow! Joat thought, I didn't think Amos knew how to be that blunt. She had grown so used to his parables and subtle persuasions. Joat wasn't even the target of his remarks and she felt like she'd been hit with a rock.

  Joseph gasped. Then: "I stand rebuked, Benisur. You are correct, of course. It is shameful to indulge myself at the cost of the greater good."

  "I am pleased to hear it, my brother. This is an attitude that will serve you well in the coming years."

  A contemplative silence followed. And if that doesn't beg "C'mon, ask me what I mean," I'm a Shapelitic Nun, Joat thought.

  "What do you mean?" Joseph asked.

  "My young cousin means to marry her Kolnari captive," Amos said. His voice seemed to smile.

  "My Lord!" Joseph bellowed. "You cannot allow that!"

  "Hey!" Joat snapped, her ears ringing.

  "I am sorry, Joat. Benisur, you cannot be serious. The Lady's family will disown her. She shall be shunned. The shame will kill her mother."

  Amos sighed. I suspect my young cousin's mother is one of those who are immune to shame. Else she would be unable to use it so effectively as a weapon.

  Aloud: "Just before we were captured by the Kolnar I asked Soamosa how she would like it if the people looked on her as a prophetess. And, of course, being a modest maid, she said she was no such thing and surely no one could take her for such. But now, I find myself seeing her in just such a light. For she truly loves this Karak and it is just as plain that he loves her. It seems to me, my brother, that she has given his humanity back to him. Perhaps we should try to join her in this task."

  "My Lord!" Joseph groaned and then drew his breath in a great gasp. "Just because one of that demon breed shows signs of being human does not mean the rest are salvageable."

  "He has a point, Amos," Joat said.

  Amos didn't laugh, but the smile was still there in his voice,

  "God does not challenge us by presenting us with circumstances that we welcome. And if Soamosa's family disowns her, I shall not. She shall be my heir, and I shall support her with all of my heart."

  "She is too young to make such a decision, Benisur."

  "Joseph, you would not be making such an objection if I had decided to marry the girl myself. Now would you? In fact, when it was arranged for her to accompany me, it was you who smoothed out so many of the details. Wasn't it?'

  Joseph was so silent that Joat glanced down at him, wondering if his suit mike had broken down.

  Then he said, "You would love having children, my brother," in a quiet voice filled with pained dignity.

  Joat felt a little spurt of outrage. Channa's not that old! she thought. She'd always suspected that Channa was just working out her contract before she ran off to Bethel with Amos. All she needs is a little time.

  "Prophet is not a comfortable family business," Amos observed. "I am not sure that I ought to have children. I might enjoy having them, but I am not so sure that they would enjoy being my offspring. Channa and I have discussed this and we feel that perhaps we should adopt our children."

  Joseph was silent again. The kind of silence that fills a room with powerful, undefined emotion.

  "On behalf of adopted children everywhere, Amos, go for it," Joat said with a smile.

  "I shall," he said. "As I have said, I will adopt Soamosa. And her children and Karak's shall be my grandchildren. As she is my cousin, they will share the same blood as I." He paused. "Interesting. That would mean that Belazir and I would share the same blood."

  "NO!" Joseph roared.

  "Ow! Joe! Watch the volume control!"

  "You go too far, my Lord."

  Amos sighed. "Yes, perhaps you are right, my brother. But perhaps also, there are other Kolnari like Karak who do not wish only to kill and to steal. This could be a sign of hope for them and the beginnings of peace for both our peoples."

  "Is it all right this trip if we at least hurt the Kolnari's feelings?" Joat asked dryly. "I'll really miss that sense of closure I'd get otherwise."

  Amos laughed. "I have not lost my mind, Joat. I merely present a new idea. This may not be practical; and in any case, you have my cheerful permission—both of you—to annihilate Belazir t'Marid and as many of his followers as seems convenient, while you pursue your mission."

  "Good luck, Amos." She shook her head in wonder.

  "We will discuss this upon my return, Benisur," Joseph growled.

  "It pleases me to think that I have given you still another reason to be cautious with your life, my friend. I look forward to our conversation."

  "Joat?"

  "Hey Rand, what's up?"

  "Your ETA is twelve hours, correct?"

  "Well, thereabouts, anyway. Depends on what we run into. Why?"

  "Yoered Family anticipates being at those coordinates in fourteen hours."

  Joat raised her brows. Not that she'd doubted Yoered's professionalism; but this kind of timing indicated a high level of commitment for
what was a fairly casual contract.

  "Well, I'm impressed. Clenst must be paying a premium."

  "They are," Seg assured her. "It might be wise to coordinate your efforts with them."

  Joat rolled her eyes. "You mean subordinate my efforts to theirs. No way, !T'sel. Two hours could make a major difference in Sperin's life span. You tell your flunkies to watch out for us. Out." She cut contact with the Wyal before anyone could protest.

  "Give them back their humanity?" Joseph murmured in stunned tones.

  "Poor Amos," Joat said. "The trouble with giving people back their humanity is that a lot of the time they don't want it returned." Crikey, the last thing a thief and murderer wants is an active conscience. Poor Amos.

  "But the Kolnari? Has my lord gone mad?"

  "No Joseph. You're just looking at the down-side of loving a living saint. They will do uncomfortable things."

  "But the Kolnari?'

  "Yeah. Let's plan what we're actually going to do when we find them," Joat said, cutting off what she recognized as an endless conversational loop.

  "Perhaps we should try giving them back their humanity."

  She laughed. "Yeah, then we'll shoot 'em while they stand there frozen in shock."

  Joseph chuckled.

  "I should not laugh at the Benisur," he said. "But truly, this is beyond everything."

  "One thing at a time, Joe. You can talk him out of it when we get back."

  She ran through the data again. Their plans were actually as set as they could be, on what amounted to—It is not a suicide mission. Joat had gone through her copy of Janes's All the Galaxy's Spaceships, a gift from Simeon, and found Belazir's flagship. It was not quite a light cruiser; a destroyer-leader, built to command a flotilla of lighter craft, a Central Worlds Navy vessel, heavily refitted for Kolnari use. Probably it had once been a Navy surplus ship owned by a planet the Kolnar had stripped, then destroyed.

  She'd called up the schematic and Kraig had guided them through it.

  "Avoid the A and B corridors if ya can, that's Kolnar territory, an' they like to hassle anyone that doesn't belong there."

  He indicated where the brig was located. A fairly large section of the ship deep in its center. And he enthusiastically described what he knew about their security system.