And Consuela.
She entered the room and brought a shadow with her. Although she held herself erect, it was with effort. Her features looked hollowed out by some pain so deep he could only guess at it. It was strange, seeing so young a face locked in such grief. Yet it was real. He only had to look at her eyes to know that she was truly in agony over Wander’s kidnapping.
They had all heard of it, of course. Even Guns, the harshest critic of the pilot class, now classified these two as a breed apart. When they had heard how the diplomat had broken into the hospital, kidnapped Wander only moments after he had been revived, blasted the room’s controls, sealed them all inside, then made their escape with warriors guarding their exit, they had all wanted vengeance. It was a matter of pride for them, that and the desire to hunt down more pirates—and for that they needed Wander’s abilities.
But this was something entirely different. Rick stared at Consuela, and somehow the sorrow etched on her face made the women and the celebrations and his experiences of the past few days seem even more hollow.
“Lieutenant.”
He snapped to alert. “Captain, Guns is still asleep, far as I know.”
“What about the others?”
“Tucker is about. I believe that’s it.”
“Go and rouse Guns, will you. Tell him to get out here and be swift about it.”
But evidently the weapons officer’s internal tracking system worked even in sleep, for he was already up and dressing when Rick arrived. “What’s up, mate?”
“Captain wants you on the bounce.”
“Let’s be at it, then.” As they passed back down the corridor, Guns asked, “Any idea what’s behind this?”
Rick shook his head. “But the chancellor’s here. And Consuela.”
To his surprise, Guns actually brightened at the news. “Lass is up and about, is she? Good. That’s real good.”
They entered the vast main gallery to find Chief Petty Officer Tucker seated among the gathering, which had requisitioned the chamber’s far side and now been cordoned off by alert guards. Tucker, a tall burly officer, was another of the crew ordered to remain behind when the ship had blasted off that very day. His response had blistered paint at thirty paces, but only after the captain had left the room.
Now he wore a different expression entirely. He sat in formal alertness, no surprise given the presence of both the captain and the chancellor, not to mention the other silent statesmen. But there was no disguising the battle gleam in his eyes.
“Ah, Guns, good of you to join us. You remember the chancellor.”
“Aye, Captain.” He saluted the chancellor, then turned and gave a formal bow of greeting toward Consuela. “Knew you were too tough to keep down for long. Nice to see you up and about.”
Consuela managed a fleeting smile. “Hello, Guns.”
“No need to worry, lass. We’re going to bring the boyo back,” Guns promised quietly. “You can take my very oath on that one.”
“A worthy sentiment,” the chancellor stated.
Consuela was forced to turn away for a moment, but not before the raw edge of her grief was exposed. Tucker reached over from the chair beside hers and enveloped her hands in one hairy paw. She took a breath, gave him a look of genuine gratitude.
“I need not tell anyone,” the chancellor began, “that anything discussed at this or any other time is to be held in strictest confidence. Your dwelling is as safe as anywhere on this planet, but outside these portals you may assume to find Hegemony spies lurking everywhere.” He scanned the group to ensure that his message had struck home, then nodded toward the captain.
“Now that we are all present,” Captain Arnol said, “allow me to introduce Pilot Dunlevy, a man claimed as friend by our scout and vouched for by the chancellor. He has news that may interest us.”
Dunlevy leaned forward and swiftly sketched his tracking of the Hegemony vessel and then his contact with Senior Pilot Grimson. “I have just come from communicating with him. To his utter astonishment, Grimson could find no record anywhere of a planet known as Citadel.”
The chancellor tensed. “This is true?”
“I know this Grimson,” Captain Arnol interjected. “Both by reputation and in person. He is a man of unquestioned integrity. If he says something, you can rest assured it is true.”
“Grimson was up the entire night,” Dunlevy went on, “checking through all records held by the spaceport library, going back to the original Hegemony mapping ships. Because they are a scout training station, they also hold numerous duplicates of master archive files. He found nothing. And yet the more he searched, the more he became convinced his own teacher had specifically told him of this world.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, then the statesman seated beside the chancellor breathed, “Then we have found the target.”
“Found it and lost it all in the same moment,” muttered his compatriot.
“Not necessarily,” responded the chancellor. “All we need to do is have a reason to go to that quadrant and make inquiries.”
Tucker shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Begging the master’s pardon, but I’m afraid I’ve been lost somewhere out beyond the outer orbit.”
The chancellor’s smile came and went with fleeting swiftness. “Your pardon, Chief Petty Officer. I shall start at the beginning.” He nodded toward Arnol and said, “I asked your good captain to remain behind and to hold this chosen few with him for a reason that I could not at the time explain to anyone else. First, I needed to receive permission from the Three Planet Council, which was finally granted this afternoon. It is a measure of your captain’s loathing for our common enemy that he agreed to assist me, even to the point of giving up his command and perhaps his standing within the Hegemony fleet.”
“I lost my allegiance to the Hegemony,” Arnol replied implacably, “when I saw undeniable evidence that Starfleet Command and the pirates are truly linked.”
“They are indeed, as we have long suspected,” the chancellor replied. “Your capture of the pirate vessel pointed clearly in this direction, and our questioning of the pirate captain has confirmed it. Despite the best efforts, I might add, of the Hegemony’s emissary to pluck the pirate crew from our custody.”
“Not to mention confirming location of a pirate hideout in our vicinity,” a statesman added.
“Indeed.” The chancellor again paused to look about the gathering, then continued, “And now, my friends, it is time to attack.”
Tucker responded for them all. “Begging your pardon, sir, but with what?”
“For over a year,” the chancellor replied, “a contingent of my ground forces has been working in top secret conditions preparing a response to these pirates.”
“A warship.” Arnol leaned forward in his seat. “Just as I had hoped.”
“More than just a single warship, Captain. And in the guise of a mining vessel.”
Guns cleared his throat. “Pardon, sir, but the Hegemony has not heard of this?”
“The fact that I am still here speaking with you indicates that we have managed to keep this a secret,” the chancellor replied. “But at such a cost that I cannot begin to describe. We declared to all and sundry that we were building this mining vessel. We then placed our workstation in an environment so hostile that no official would care to make more than a cursory inspection. We even made public offers for its eventual sale. But of course there were no takers. We were once known throughout the empire for the quality of our wares. Now few are interested in even talking with us, for goods ordered from our factories never arrive.”
The chancellor leaned back, his face etched with both determination and fatigue. “Throughout the period of this ship’s assembly, all workers and their families have been isolated from outside contact. Only the most trusted of garrisons have been involved in transport of materials. You have heard me say that Hegemony spies are everywhere. Still, despite all odds, we have accomplished this task through a combinat
ion of stern discipline and strict diligence and unselfish patriotism shown by many.”
Captain Arnol inquired, “What had you planned to do with this vessel?”
“Attack,” the chancellor repeated. “Where, we were not sure, but what we knew from the outset. If the Hegemony refused to stop the pirates, then we were going to have to try ourselves.”
“In utter secrecy,” the statesman added.
“This was our plan,” the chancellor stated, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “We wanted to strike a blow not just against the pirates, but against the Hegemony itself. Let them know that they were not invulnerable. Nor could they continue to crush our lands without retribution.”
“In utter secrecy,” the statesman repeated.
“Precisely. Done in such a way that they would never know who it was behind it, not for certain. Sowing doubt among their own people. Demonstrating in the clearest way possible that if they do not govern with fairness, enemies they have made for themselves can and will strike at their very heart.”
“And what better way to demonstrate this,” Arnol finished for him, “than to attack pirates which the Hegemony claim do not exist, and then destroy a pirate stronghold for which there is no record.”
“And rescue a man the Hegemony has kidnapped,” Consuela said quietly, speaking for the first time.
The chancellor turned to her. “On you there must be placed a special burden. For the attempt to rescue Scout Wander, we ask you to promise us five years of service. Whether or not we are successful, with or without him, if we in turn give you our joint oath to do all within our power to bring him out.”
“Five years,” she murmured. “So long.”
“We must have a network developed that protects us from pirate attack,” the chancellor went on intently. “We must. It would be foolish to assume that one blow will be enough to ensure our safety. Only a Talent can help us by watching both lightways and shadowlanes for our transports.” He stopped, then corrected himself, “Or Talents, if we are successful.”
“I don’t even know if it would be possible.” Consuela thought a long moment, then squared her shoulders and said quietly, “But if I am able, I will stay.”
Rick looked at her in astonishment. It was increcible that she would feel so deeply for the young man. Here she was committing herself to five years in a place that could not be any farther from her home. And for what? For somebody whom she scarcely even knew. As he watched her, he found himself growing angry. Why should she care so much for this Wander? Why did she not even bother to look at him anymore? Rick stared at her, consumed by sudden jealousy.
The chancellor turned to Captain Arnol and went on, “You have heard me describe how our own spacebound forces have been decimated. All our merchant fleet, all our trained officers and able-bodied spacemen, all gradually drained off through forced conscription. We have trained some of our ground forces in secret, but we need a captain.” The chancellor looked from one to the other. “We need flight officers who will shape these soldiers into a cohesive fighting force. We need warriors who will take the battle to the enemy, and who will return to us with victory in their grasp.”
****
Rick found Consuela standing alone in the archway separating the residence’s main doors from the wrought-iron outer gate. She was shielding her face with one hand and staring up at the dual suns. “Sure is a long way from home, isn’t it?”
She dropped her hand and turned around. “How have you been, Rick?”
Her solemn visage, her ethereal beauty, left him feeling uncomfortable and unsure of how to react. He gave his best grin and shrugged. “Not bad. Tired of being cooped up in these quarters.”
“They’ve given you a palace and everything else you could ask for.” Her sorrow lent her an almost regal dignity. “You’re a hero. Aren’t you enjoying that?”
“Sure.” He felt unsettled. She had somehow grown older and wiser than he. “But it’s sort of like cotton candy, all fluff and no substance.”
She turned back to the sky. “I went home the other night.”
“You mean, real home? Back to earth?”
She nodded. “My mother is sick.”
Rick did not know how he felt about it. Home. Did he want to go back to Baltimore? Having the option become suddenly possible left him uneasy. “How did you do it?”
“I don’t know. But I went. It was while I was still in the hospital.” She looked at him. “I went to see your parents.”
“You did? Why?”
“I felt as though they should know you were all right.”
He felt ashamed then, without understanding why. And touched. She had done something for him, something he would never in a million years have thought of doing for her had their positions been reversed. “I bet they rolled out the old red carpet for you.”
“They were horrible,” she said, her voice empty of bitterness. “They didn’t even invite me to sit down. They left me standing in the front hall under that huge portrait, and they grilled me.”
“Yeah, that sounds like dear old Mom and Dad,” Rick said. “I can just hear them now.” He lowered his voice to a parody of his father’s. “I cannot comprehend what would cause that boy to shame the family name like this.”
“I don’t recall his actually calling you a boy,” Consuela said. “But you have the rest of it pretty straight.”
“Incredible,” Rick said bitterly. “They make me feel like some employee brought in to make them look good.”
The sympathy and compassion that showed in her eyes came straight from the heart. “Poor Rick,” she said quietly. “To have so much, and yet to suffer from the same loneliness as me.”
Her words moved him deeply, as though she had reached out and touched his heart with her own. He started to speak, to tell her that he was there, to ask her to remember this if Wander was not found. But before he could open his mouth, another set of footsteps approached, and he heard Captain Arnol say, “Ah, Scout, excellent. Would you care to change quarters and join the rest of my crew?”
To Rick’s relief and pleasure, Consuela read Arnol’s words as the polite order that they were. “That would be fine, Captain.”
“Excellent. Like to have all my personnel under one roof when there’s a concern over security.” He looked back at the vast palace set in its own grounds, said, “I imagine we can find quarters for the scout here, don’t you, Lieutenant?”
“Aye, Captain,” Rick said eagerly. “I’ll see to it myself.”
Chapter Seven
To Rick’s profound disappointment, Consuela proved no easier to approach once housed within the crew’s palace.
The manor was a genuinely grand affair, with two great wings opening off a broad central gallery. Consuela and the local girl called Adriana took chambers with the other female crew in the wing opposite his own and stayed very much to themselves even when gathered for dinner.
Rick went to bed that night frustrated and confused. An entire planet of women to choose from, and here he was longing after a girl in love with someone else. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
****
The change started even before he was fully asleep.
There was a sense of being drawn away, detaching himself from the bed and the quarters and the palace and the world. Not of going somewhere else, but rather of first no longer being there, and then of being elsewhere.
An instant of fog-bound confusion, then he knew. He was back.
But before the panic could set in, before he could protest that the choice had been taken from him, Rick realized that the return was not permanent. He did not know how he knew, but he was sure just the same.
He arrived at that pleasant hour just before an autumn dusk, when the world was cooling down from the day’s heat, and the sky was lit with a glorious display of sunset colors. Rick looked about himself, realized he was standing in the park directly across from his house. He took a breath and did what he knew had to be done.
“I’m fine,” he replied. “It’s hard to explain—”
He was cut off by a voice booming down from upstairs. “Who is that, Doris?”
“Your son!”
“Rick!” A tall and aging replica of himself came thundering down the stairs. “I’ve a good mind to . . . What insanity possessed you to go off on your own like that?”
For the first time in his life, Rick did not back away from his father’s wrath. He did not give his best smile, he did not ease things by agreeing and giving in and going along. He stood his ground, he met his father’s angry gaze, and he replied, “I’ve been involved in something important.”
“Important!” The elder Reynolds blasted his ire. “Important! What on earth could be more important than meeting up to your responsibilities?”
“A lot of things.”
“Why, do you realize the trouble I’ve had trying to calm down Coach . . .” His son’s words finally sank home. “What’s that you said?”
“I have other responsibilities right now, Dad. Important ones.”
“Oh, I knew it, I knew it,” his mother wailed. “He’s gotten that girl pregnant.”
“Mom—”
His father wheeled around. “What girl?”
“That trashy thing who came around not long ago, you know the one. She claimed she had been on a date with Rick.”
“Consuela is one of the finest girls I have ever known,” Rick said firmly. “And she’s not pregnant.”
“Then she’s gotten you mixed up in something bad,” his mother accused, her tone rising. “Is it drugs?”
“Good grief, no.”
“Now you listen to me,” his father ordered. “I don’t know what shenanigans you’ve gotten yourself into these past few days, and I don’t care. I want you to hightail up to your room, mister, and get ready for school on Monday. After you call Coach, that is, and apologize for all the trouble you’ve put that poor man through. You’ve got the good name of this family to uphold, and don’t you forget it.”
The Dream Voyagers Page 18
