by Kate Elliott
Gregori began to enjoy himself. He knew better than to tell anyone about his discovery. Weeks lengthened into a month, one month into two. He made great progress with his lessons. Flower observed once that Hawk seemed somehow less taut. And concentrated on his secret, Gregori let his awareness of the ship’s ghosts dwindle a bit, although it never faded entirely. Tight in this little cocoon that he and Hawk shared, he grew isolated from the rest of the ship.
So it took him quite by surprise when abruptly, one day, com chimed and the captain’s voice came across the shipwide channel.
“All hands. We have come into hailing distance of the beacon for a station calling itself Diomede. We have reached inhabited space. We are now bearing in-system. Full alert.”
Gregori was so astonished that he jumped to his feet, letting his screen fall onto the bed next to Hawk’s feet, and ran out the door, heading for the bridge. He did not wait to make sure the door shut behind him.
It took only moments to reach the bridge. The atmosphere was hushed but expectant.
“Comm incoming,” said Finch as Gregori slipped inside, stationing himself by the door.
“This is Diomede Center.” The man’s voice was cheerful but strangely accented, so that it was hard to understand him. “We receive you, Forlorn Hope. We have five berths open. I suggest you dock at List Seven. Can you please give me your registry number so that I can log you in?” The request was made without any hint of threat or impatience.
Finch looked at Lily.
“Give me a channel,” she said. He nodded, and she went on. “Diomede Center, this is Captain Ransome on the Forlorn Hope. We are new to League space. We have no registry number. Can you suggest another form of identification that we can give you?”
“Captain Ransome, can you wait a moment while I get my shift manager? And we’ll run your specs”—his voice broke off abruptly and then, as if he had forgotten to flip off his comm, they heard him say, quite distinctly—“My God.”
“Captain.” A new voice, this one just as accented, but crisper. “I’m min Provoniya, shift manager here. Are you aware that the ship’s designation ‘Forlorn Hope’ is interdicted under League Law? Has been since the disappearance of fully half of the hard-luck fleet some two centuries ago?”
“What is the hard-luck fleet?” Yehoshua asked.
The term nagged at Lily, until she remembered Heredes using it: the exploratory fleet sent out before his birth; the same ships—or at least five of whose ships—Central had impounded to serve as the basis of their military fleet.
“Comrade Provoniya,” Lily replied, not knowing what honorific to use, “this is the Forlorn Hope.”
“My God,” said someone again.
“Captain,” Provoniya’s voice had a certain edge, even awe, in it. “Let me notify Diomede’s Coordinator. I feel he would be eager to know of your arrival. Please dock in any case at List Seven. Under the circumstances, we may have to hold you in quarantine for a short time. I hope you understand.”
“I understand,” replied Lily.
“And by the way, min Provoniya is fine. ‘Comrade’ is rather an old-fashioned term for someone of my ancestry.” She sounded amused.
“Certainly, min Provoniya. We are happy to comply.” Flicking off her channel, she nodded to Finch to continue docking procedures.
“Captain,” said Yehoshua. “One of the ships docked here picks up identical specs to a ship in our files.”
“Let me see that.” She brought it up on her console. “Damn my eyes,” she murmured. “That has to be La Belle Dame.”
“Who is—?”
Ship’s com interrupted Yehoshua’s question.
“Captain? This be Flower, in Medical.” Her voice sounded flushed with consternation. “I swear I saw min Hawk in here. It were just ya flash, in ya corner o’ my vision, but when I went to go look, I found one o’ ya medical kits—one o’ ya portable bags—be missing.”
Lily stiffened. “Meet me in my suite,” she ordered, and rose and swept past Gregori without noticing.
He followed her, sudden guilt staining his expression. The door to the inner room stood open. No one lay on the bed. A faint impression showed the imprint of a body, but even as they stared, the depression filled and leveled, adjusting to the lack of weight.
Lily muttered something Gregori did not catch, except that it sounded like a swear word.
“I didn’t mean—” he began in a very small voice.
Com chimed on again.
“Captain!” Jenny’s voice. “We’ve got a detach. Someone just stole the two-person recce boat and left the ship.”
The captain simply stared at the empty bed. Gregori sensed that she was engaged in some sort of inner struggle, but he could not imagine its provenance or her course of thought.
Then she slapped the com. “Finch. Get me Provoniya—min Provoniya. Hawk ran. We have to warn them.”
“But Lily—”
“And then get me a line to La Belle Dame’s ship.”
“But Captain. I have Stationmaster—Center Coordinator—waiting to talk to you.”
“Oh Hells,” said Lily, so low Gregori scarcely caught it. She turned, glancing at him as she moved to the door. “You’d better go to Medical, Gregori,” she said absently as the door slipped aside to let her onto gold deck corridor. “Stick with Flower for now. We’re going to be busy for a while.”
She paused, polite enough to let him reply.
He just nodded. He felt a horrible, horrible feeling, as if, like Lia, he had betrayed her. But he didn’t have the courage to tell her that it was his fault that Hawk had escaped.
6 Diomede
LILY SURVEYED JENNY, WHO stood before her outfitted in her full mercenary rig. “I’m not sure it’s appropriate,” she said slowly.
“But it’s standard procedure,” insisted Yehoshua. “Any ship’s captain is always escorted by military personnel, unless you’re an in-system boat. And even then, sometimes—” He shrugged.
Lily checked her own pistol, clipped next to her com-screen on her belt. “All right. Jenny. Pinto. Trey. Rainbow. Let’s go. Yehoshua, she’s all yours.”
He nodded, grave. Lily led her party out into the link bubble and then into the short tunnel that connected the Hope to Diomede Center. The far door, octagonal in shape, soundlessly rotated open. They came out into the gleaming curve of bright walls and a high, broad, cavernous corridor lined with stark columns.
Three people awaited them: a woman, a man, and a Ridani man. They were smiling. The Ridani man had a baby in a sling on his hip.
The woman stepped forward, extending one hand. Stopped. Her eyes widened as she took in Jenny’s rig. She seemed at a loss for what to say. Neither her nor her companions wore anything that looked like a weapon.
Lily halted her party five steps from them. As if sensing her confusion, the Ridani man came forward unerringly to her. He also put out his hand. “Captain Ransome?” She nodded and, a bit surprised, shook hands with him. The baby cooed and squealed. “My name is Ska-morian-isfacat, although,” a glance here for Pinto, “you might prefer to call me Scallop. I’m conservative enough that my family still takes on the pattern names. I’m Diomede Coordinator. With me are min Provoniya and her assistant, min Hoshea. And my daughter, Mori. It is my pleasure to welcome you here. If our records are showing the correct information, you must have quite a story to tell us.”
For a moment Lily could only stare at him, until she became aware of what it was about him that bothered her. Clearly a Ridani—the facial structure confirmed it as well as the tattoos covering his face and neck and left arm. Except his right arm was bare. His skin was a pleasant brown, much like Finch’s, but it was as bare, as unmarked, as her own. And the baby had no visible tattoos at all, except for one elaborate snowflake on her left cheek. Lily became aware that she was staring, and that the rest of her party was as well.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
His smile turned apologetic. “I’m not sure where
you have come from. Diomede is on the border of The Pale.” She did not recognize the word and wondered if it was just his thick accent that made it incomprehensible. “But I ought to tell you now that one doesn’t really carry weapons in inhabited zones.” He seemed slightly embarrassed at having to point this out to her. “I don’t mean to offend you, of course.”
“Of course not. We didn’t know there were laws against it.”
He glanced at his two companions. They all looked surprised. “Why would we need laws for something like that? If you can show me your privateer or bounty license we can certainly—ah—see that you might feel more comfortable—although usually they respect the custom—”
Lily grinned suddenly, liking him because he seemed for the moment just as confused as she was. “Min Scallop.” The Ridani honorific came strangely to her lips. “This is League space. Am I correct?”
He blinked. “Yes.” But now he waited, aware that she meant to tell him more.
“I’d better try to make this succinct. And I’m not sure how to. We’re not from League space. Several centuries ago lowroad colonization ships were sent out from League space.”
“My God,” murmured the other man. “The cryo boats. I thought they’d all vanished.”
“We’re the descendants of those people. They did find landfall, some of them. Colonized an area of space we now call the Reft. And we found—myself and the people with me—this ship, and decided to look for the League.”
“But how did you—” began Scallop. He stopped. “Perhaps we’d better go to my office. I can see this is going to be a very long story, and that we’d better record it for the Concord representative here. This has incredible ramifications.” He looked both ecstatic and bemused.
“Would you like us to disarm?” Lily asked. She had noticed that people passing were giving them strange looks.
“Lily—” hissed Jenny, warning. Lily shook her head, and Jenny subsided, looking disapproving.
“I, for one,” offered Provoniya, stepping forward, “feel rather like a Soviet might feel confronted by a party of Mongols. I would feel more comfortable.”
“Mongols?” asked Jenny in a low voice.
“Please excuse min Provoniya,” interposed Scallop. “She’s a fanatic for history. If you wouldn’t mind—”
At Lily’s nod, they disarmed, and Rainbow took the weapons back inside the ship. Scallop smiled, looking as relieved as Provoniya. Reflexively, he patted the baby’s bottom. “Then, if you’ll come this way.”
There was too much to see to register what was similar and what totally different. Once they arrived in the spacious Coordinator’s office and seated themselves in delicate-looking but wholly comfortable chairs, Lily introduced her party. No one even blinked when she introduced Pinto as her pilot. Scallop’s only comment, addressed to Pinto, was that he must be from an orthodox sect.
A moment later the Concord representative came in and introductions were done again. The representative, a very black, very tall woman named Thaelisha, sat down beside Scallop, got the baby to smile at her, and then turned to regard Lily expectantly.
“Captain.” Her voice was smooth, her accent more tone than pronunciation, making her at once easier to understand and yet, for some phrases, far more difficult. “You and the people with you present a unique case. Not just because you have returned in possession of a famous ship believed lost about two hundred years ago. But imagine our interest, and delight, in discovering that there is, as one might call it, a lost colony out there. What we record here today will be transmitted immediately to Concord.”
“What is Concord?” Lily asked.
Thaelisha chuckled. “There. Proof positive, apart from your accents, and your style of clothing. Concord is the administrative center for the various autonomous systems which together make up League space. We can show you a map if that would help you to get your bearings. Otherwise, please go on.”
Lily chose to go on. “Our computers can supply you with more information about the location and size of Reft space than I can. My navigator can better describe the various physical anomalies existing between League space and Reft space that made navigation with the vector drive, and a set path, difficult to find and maintain, which is the reason as far as I know that the Reft stayed isolated this long. It took us almost four months to run a fairly straight course that once properly charted with a full crew would probably take about one month to cover, according to our pilot and our navigator.”
“You only had one of each?” Provoniya broke in, astonished. “For that kind of trip?”
“Yes, but they’re good.” Lily smiled as Pinto scowled at her.
“They must be,” agreed Provoniya. She turned to look directly at Pinto. “My respects.”
His scowl turned quickly to embarrassment.
“We also,” Lily went on, to spare him, “have the usual ship’s library, with the usual historical, geographical, economic and literary files. When we found the Forlorn Hope its entire log and library had been wiped, except for the ship’s operating system.”
“What happened to her?” asked Thaelisha.
“We don’t know. We didn’t find any bodies, either. The crew simply vanished. There’s no trace of them at all. The Hope itself was an old legendary ghost ship, haunting ya—the—way back. You know the kind of story. She must have been drifting for decades and was finally caught by a small planet. We found her quite by accident.”
“And brought her here,” mused Scallop. “What made you decide to attempt to find League space, Captain? I’m just curious.”
Lily sighed. She did not care at this time to bring in the whole story of Jehane and his successful revolution against Central, and his betrayal of Pero. At the same time, she was not sure how much she should say about Master Heredes and her acquaintance with Wingtuck Honor Jones or the saboteurs in general. If everything Heredes and Wingtuck, and Kyosti, had said about their current status in League space was true, she certainly would not give any clue to Wingtuck’s whereabouts. The problem, of course, was what to do about Hawk.
“Two reasons,” she began, finally deciding what tack to take. “At least one League ship has been in Reft space. Perhaps someone from Concord.”
“My God,” muttered the assistant Hoshea from the back corner.
“It would make sense,” agreed Thaelisha, not looking very surprised. “But again, go on.”
“I—all—ran into them accidentally,” continued Lily, deciding not to explain the circumstances of their meeting any further—specifically the fact that they had believed her to be involved with the saboteurs.
“Of course it makes sense, Thae,” said Scallop abruptly. “Excuse me for breaking in. I know it’s not supposed to be common knowledge, but I’ve heard rumors that Concord Intelligence is searching for all the old Soerensen network, those left alive, that is. It makes sense that if one ship could find its way across, others might have, years ago, ferrying saboteurs to safety in anonymity. Fair enough, if you ask me. I always thought they were persecuted through no fault of their own.”
“I didn’t think one could persecute psychopathic criminals,” interrupted Provoniya. “If you ask me, I think the lot of them ought to be locked up—”
“—and the lock code erased,” finished Scallop, as if he’d heard this argument many times before.
“It’s certainly possible,” said Thaelisha calmly. She smiled ruefully at Lily. “Excuse us for hanging out our dirty laundry. We don’t mean to interrupt you. You said there were two reasons.”
“I also accidentally ran across the Sans Merci. I believe she’s docked here now.”
Provoniya laughed. “The queen of the highroad. So that’s where she came from. We don’t usually see her here. She usually stays within The Pale. I feel a little sorry for Reft space, for where La Belle Dame goes, the rest of the privateers will soon follow. And your government has none of the covenants Concord has set up to control them.”
Lily smiled back. She ra
ther liked Provoniya, despite what she had called the saboteurs. “I’m not sure Reft space is rich enough to interest them. I also met a privateer who called himself Yi.”
Provoniya and Scallop looked blank. This time Thaelisha smiled. “That must have been interesting. You’ve had an eventful time, Captain.”
She left a deliberate pause after her words and Lily knew that she was leaving unspoken her real question: Why you? So Lily chose the best method to deflect it—by asking a question in her turn. One she had to ask.
“These saboteurs you mentioned. Who—or what—are they?”
All three began to speak at once, stopped, chuckling a little, and then Thaelisha began unopposed.
“If my history is correct, the cryo ships that colonized your Reft space would have left here before we met the alien culture known as the Kapellan Empire. They—the Kapellans—gave us the vector drive, we put out the exploratory ships, known ever afterward as the ‘hard-luck fleet’ because so few returned, and soon after that the Empire decided to annex League space. We had no choice but to accept annexation into their Empire. Many decades later a man of Terran birth named Charles Soerensen led a revolt against them that almost succeeded. For some reason—and you’d have to get a xenologist who had studied them to explain it to you—the Kapellans ennobled him rather than executing him. Thereby putting him in a difficult position, you see. After many years, Soerensen put together a network of saboteurs, based on information—well, let me make this as short as I can—”
Scallop shifted and began to stand. “If you’ll excuse me a moment. My daughter—”
Hoshea stood up and came swiftly over. “I’ll change her. You stay here.”
“Thank you.” They transferred the child smoothly, and Hoshea disappeared out the door.
“In any case,” Thaelisha continued, “they began to disable by sabotage the industry and communications and transport web, and so on, of the Empire, especially within old League space and the regions bordering it. So that in time, when Soerensen launched a second revolt with a number of other leaders, the saboteurs had undermined enough of the Kapellan superstructure, and continued to do so throughout the revolt, that the League was able to sue for peace and gain autonomy and a large neutral zone which we call The Pale. Privateers are given a free rein within it, but must accord to strict covenants without, which is why we are surprised to see the Sans Merci here. But that’s another story.”
