Eternity's End

by Jeffrey Carver

  "I wouldn't miss a chance to help out with the debriefing," Tracy-Ace said coldly. She turned to greet the others. Then she gave a brief nod to the man Legroeder just now noticed standing to one side and little behind YZ/I's chair. Lanyard/GC. What was he doing here?

  "And," Tracy-Ace continued, "I thought perhaps I should be here to help make sure nothing else went wrong." She stared hard at YZ/I.

  Legroeder glanced at his fellow riggers, wishing he could convey with his eyes what had happened.

  YZ/I sighed heavily. "Rigger Legroeder, please allow me to apologize. I did not intend for you to be treated roughly by my analysts. My instructions were to try to release the information—but to treat you only with courtesy and respect. I regret... that you had such a difficult time of it."

  Legroeder considered being diplomatic—then thought, the hell with it. "You lying asshole sonofabitch. What were you trying to do—make sure nobody could get the information from my implants?"

  YZ/I raised his hands in the air. "Heavens no. I merely told my people to try to set up an interface with your implants." He shook his head sorrowfully. "I have since learned that they were neither as gentle nor as successful as I'd hoped."

  Legroeder glared. "Not as gentle or successful as you'd hoped? Is this the way you always treat people who go out and do the impossible for you?"

  YZ/I winced, gesturing apologetically. He seemed to be groping for appropriate words, and failing. YZ/I glanced back at Lanyard, whose face was creased by a dark frown. "Do you folks all know my associate?" he barked suddenly, gesturing at Lanyard. "This is Group Coordinator Lanyard—a member of Outpost Ivan's Ruling Cabinet. He's here to observe, and to learn what he can do to help out." YZ/I's expression became unreadable for a moment, as Lanyard nodded stiffly to the assembled group.

  Fre'geel spoke up, not letting YZ/I change the subject. "I take it you tried, and failed, to force information from Legroeder's implants."

  YZ/I flickered a shade of pink. "Not force, Commander. We did try to encourage a sharing with his implants."

  "And in so doing, you risked grave harm to him," Fre'geel replied, his voice light, yet hard as steel.

  "Not intentionally, I assure you. Legroeder, my people didn't do serious harm to you, did they?"

  Legroeder gathered himself for another angry statement, but was interrupted by Fre'geel saying in a dry, flinty voice, "I must say, it would be a great shame if you lost all of this information that has been gathered, at such risk—because you tried to extract it, rather than cooperate with us." The Narseil commander stood with his two hands clasped at his breast. Only a slight twitching of his gill slits, and a widening of his vertical eyes betrayed his anger.

  YZ/I waved a hand in agitated reassurance. "That's not at all the case, Commander Fre'geel. Look—your people did an outstanding job in rescuing Impris. Outstanding. I'm deeply grateful, and I intend to cooperate with you in every way we can. But—" YZ/I gestured, as though struggling with an inescapable fact "—here's the ship, right in our docks, available for study by our techs. And here's Legroeder, carrying some very important data in his head. Possibly—I think I heard you saying—a map of this network of quantum flaws. Right?"

  Legroeder nodded slowly, silently.

  "Except," Fre'geel said dryly, "that it's locked away in Rigger Legroeder's implants."

  "Exactly. And you surely can understand our position. Once he leaves here, a lot can happen between his departure and our receipt of the analyzed data."

  "I do understand that. But do you understand that his implants were designed by the Narseil security forces?" Fre'geel said pointedly. "You can't get the data, and neither can Legroeder. For that matter, neither can I. Only Narseil Security—or the Narseil Rigging Institute—can extract the information! Any effort on your part not only risks harm to Legroeder—but also jeopardizes the integrity of the data itself. Do you realize that, Yankee-Zulu/Ivan?"

  YZ/I's eyes shone abruptly with surprise and fury.

  Behind him, there was a sharp intake of breath. Lanyard's eyes were narrowed, and his lips appeared to be moving subvocally. YZ/I snapped a look back at him; his gaze darkened further.

  "Double cross..." Lanyard whispered.

  YZ/I face flickered several shades of crimson and orange. "Let's not make hasty judgments," he muttered to Lanyard. To Legroeder and the others, he said sternly, "Have you known this all along?"

  Legroeder was dumbstruck. He should have known it, or guessed it. How could he have been so naive? But none of the Narseil had ever intimated, and even the implants themselves had been tightlipped. (You bastards, why didn't you tell me?)

  There was no answer.

  Christ. All that time he'd sat in YZ/I lab, being worked over.

  "Only Mission Command knew," Fre'geel said, making a hissing sound that approximated a clearing of the throat. "There was no reason to share that point with my other officers."

  "And were you," YZ/I said, almost too softly to hear, "planning to share the rigging data with us once you had extracted it?" His eyes had a deadly sparkle to them now.

  "Of course," Fre'geel said calmly.

  Of course...

  "But I'm sure you understand why we wanted to ensure our own access to the data," Fre'geel continued. His Narseil eyes blinked slowly.

  YZ/I slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair. "You amphibian bastards! You got that information on MY SHIP, flying MY MISSION!"

  The Narseil commander made a side-to-side gesture with his right hand. "Come, Yankee-Zulu/Ivan. We were merely protecting our interests. After all, our riggers were instrumental in effecting the rescue. Do you deny our rights?"

  YZ/I's skin rippled. "I do not deny that your riggers were an asset to the mission."

  "If I'm not mistaken," Tracy-Ace interjected, "the Narseil riggers were indispensable. In fact, all of the participants were indispensable."

  "That is correct," Legroeder said. "The Narseil. The Kyber. The Centrist. All of us."

  "Damn it," YZ/I hissed furiously at Tracy-Ace. "You know what's at stake here. What are you trying to do?"

  "One thing that's at stake," Legroeder said in a soft drawl, "is our future ability to map the hazards that your fleet will face when it travels to the Well of Stars. And it would seem that that depends on your cooperating with us."

  For a moment YZ/I looked as if he had stopped breathing altogether. Finally he whispered, as though speaking to some demon dwelling deep within himself, "I'll be a goddamned sonofabitch..."

  * * *

  In the discussion that followed, Lanyard/GC hovered close to YZ/I, and it was clear that a sharp conflict was playing itself out beneath the surface between them. YZ/I was asking the Narseil commander, curtly, just what he expected in exchange for sharing the information.

  "Not too much," Fre'geel said. "Safe passage for all of my crew. An unconditional end to raiding on our shipping—"

  "All of our shipping," Legroeder snapped. "Centrist as well as Narseil."

  Fre'geel looked nonplused. "Well, I can only speak for the Narseil Navy—"

  "Well, I'm speaking for the Centrist worlds. In case you've forgotten, the data's in my head," Legroeder said coldly.

  Fre'geel bobbed his head in acquiescence. He had no reason to object.

  "One other thing," Legroeder said. "Impris goes home first, to Faber Eridani. From there, we can request her loan to the Narseil Rigging Institute."

  "Now, excuse me, Rigger," Fre'geel began.

  "Excuse me, my ass, Fre'geel. You're the best equipped to study her, so Captain Friedman should agree. But if not—were you thinking of replacing one form of piracy with another, and just hijacking her?"

  Fre'geel stiffened, puffing air through his gills. "We were intending no such thing. But let me ask this. Do you trust the Faber Eridani authorities?"

  Legroeder swallowed hard. Touché. "I guess we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. But in any case, I'm the one you need, more than the ship."

  Fre'gee
l didn't contradict him.

  YZ/I gazed at Legroeder for a long time, with what seemed a new degree of respect. He shot a glance at Deutsch, floating in silence. "How much did you know about this?"

  "Not a thing," Deutsch said. "I've been learning a lot, listening to this conversation."

  "And so have I," Lanyard interrupted icily. "YZ/I, it's starting to sound as if you're giving away the whole store here."

  YZ/I turned to Lanyard with an expression of calculated calm. "Not at all, my friend. And if you are thinking to put out false claims on that score, you had better think very carefully indeed."

  "I make no false claims," Lanyard said rigidly.

  "Let us be clear, then," YZ/I said. "You know my position on strengthening Ivan and the Kyber Republic—through self reliance. Perhaps we've taxed the outworlds enough, eh? My position is that anything we can do to aid the colony fleet, we will. Now, you tell me a better bargain than one that will gain us a map of the quantum flaws that can ensure the safety of our fleet."

  Lanyard's mouth grew tight; he was clearly taken aback. Legroeder could only marvel at the way YZ/I worked to turn what a few moments ago was a setback, into a political triumph. Lanyard strained to protest, "But what about the others? Carlotta...?"

  "Ah," YZ/I said. "There, you are right. There is Carlotta to be considered." He turned back to Legroeder. "You met our friends from KM/C."

  "Yes. We met them. Including a couple of old colleagues of mine," Legroeder replied grimly.

  YZ/I nodded. "I did not know that you would actually meet your old shipmates. I am sorry. But you found our response satisfactory?"

  Legroeder shrugged. "The escort squadron saved our lives. But it seems you took a big risk, provoking one of your allies."

  YZ/I glanced in amusement at Lanyard, who seemed startled to find himself in agreement with Legroeder. "You mean, why didn't we negotiate with them beforehand?"

  "Well, yeah."

  "They would not have agreed. Sometimes they just can't seem to see what's in their own best interest. They really didn't want to see Impris rescued. Or revealed. You, Legroeder, may be the only person ever to have escaped from one of the KM/C outposts, much less to have taken word of Impris back to the Centrist Worlds."

  Legroeder shook his head. "But I wasn't captured by KM/C. I escaped from—"

  "DeNoble—a KM/C satellite."

  Legroeder blinked. "Oh."

  "So, KM/C had great visions of using Impris for the last four years of her term of exclusive use." YZ/I shrugged. "They were going to be annoyed, no matter how we cut it. I probably would have been, too, in her place."

  "So now what?"

  "So now I persuade Carlotta that she needs this map even more badly than she needed Impris. And you know what?" YZ/I glanced back at Lanyard. "I think she's going to see the wisdom." When his gaze came back to the others, it was full of fire. "Especially if this information of yours is as valuable as you've been claiming. Eh?"

  "It is," Legroeder said. He looked inward, in vain, for reassurance on that score. "I'm sure of it," he said.

  YZ/I ignored Lanyard's obvious doubt, behind him. His face split into a mirthless grin. The room darkened, and around him and through him, images blazed up of the Kyber colony fleet, making ready for the pilgrimage. YZ/I's voice reverberated. "Oh, it had better be. Because we'll know where to find you. And, I might add, so will Carlotta."

  * * *

  "I'm sending Freem'n Deutsch with you, as my personal representative," YZ/I said, three days later. "He will be authorized to carry back the data, as it becomes available. And he will be capable, I think, of conveying my needs."

  The half-metal man nodded, his glass eyes glowing momentarily. "I look forward to the opportunity."

  Legroeder remembered Deutsch's previous ambition to escape from Ivan altogether. Was this a happy compromise? He tried to imagine how the average citizen of Faber Eridani would react to the half-metal man.

  "You will admit Rigger Deutsch into your Narseil Institute?" YZ/I asked Fre'geel, with only a hint of an edge to his voice.

  Fre'geel assured him that Deutsch would be welcomed. All three interests—Narseil, Centrist, and Kyber—would be entitled to representation in the study of the data.

  Over the last three days, they'd met several times to discuss such matters as future espionage and piracy. The Narseil promised not to attempt to lead ships back to Ivan as long as its location remained secret. In return, YZ/I would end piracy as far as Outpost Ivan was concerned. In fact, the time was coming, he said, when the Free Kyber might be interested in trying to normalize relations with the outer worlds. That time was not yet here, perhaps, but equal participation in the Impris data was a step in the right direction.

  Legroeder finally had a chance to bring up the subject of Harriet's grandson. "Remember the matter I asked you to look into? The boy—Bobby Mahoney?"

  "What boy?"

  Damn. "Have you forgotten? The boy who was captured at the same time I was, on the Ciudad de los Angeles."

  YZ/I focused inward for a moment. "Oh yes—six or seven years old, wasn't he?"

  "At the time. He'd be about... fourteen now, I guess." Legroeder leaned forward. "This is important, YZ/I. He's the only grandson of someone I owe a lot to. Can you find him? Find out if he's still alive? Get him released, if possible?"

  YZ/I raised an eyebrow. "Tracy-Ace?"

  Tracy-Ace was already working at the console. "I began a search when you asked before. There was nothing in our system about him." She looked up at Legroeder. "But you were captured by DeNoble. YZ/I?"

  The Boss rubbed his chin. "We have some connections on DeNoble. It'll be awkward, what with your having escaped from there and all—but sure, we'll make some discreet inquiries for you. If we can help the boy, we will. Fair enough?"

  Legroeder felt the knot in his chest ease. "Fair enough. And thank you."

  "Anytime," said YZ/I.

  * * *

  While Impris was studied by Kyber techs, her passengers and crew were treated as guests of Outpost Ivan. For many of the passengers, it was almost irrelevant where they were; the mere fact of emerging a century and a quarter in their future was clearly disorienting. Quite a number opted to remain on the ship, venturing out only for short exploratory trips into the outpost. Captain Friedman was among those who spent more time aboard the ship than not.

  Freem'n Deutsch, during the voyage back, had developed a friendship with the Impris riggers, and also with Pen Lee, the one-time assistant to Inspector Gloris Fandrang. Lee, having been trapped years ago in his vain effort to understand what was happening to Impris and her crew, now seemed trapped in another kind of incomprehensible world, inside his own mind. Deutsch had somehow made an empathic connection where others had failed. If anyone was going to be able to help Pen Lee find his way back out of that interior world, Deutsch was a good candidate, Legroeder thought.

  Legroeder himself was growing increasingly anxious, waiting for departure. He had no trouble imagining all the things that might go wrong and interfere with his return to Faber Eridani. Every passing hour seemed an invitation to trouble. Tracy-Ace was extremely busy overseeing much of the activity around Impris, and in her absence Legroeder spent most of his time with the Narseil, or Freem'n Deutsch, or the Impris crew. His H'zzarrelik shipmates now had a certain degree of freedom to move about the outpost. An elaborate story was going around the outpost, a web of lies and truths and near-truths, about how the Narseil had come here under cover to collaborate with the Kyber in going after Impris, and only a terrible misunderstanding had resulted in the battle with Flechette. The story made Legroeder uneasy, but he wasn't about to contradict it.

  As for Tracy-Ace, he was at a loss as to what to think. She remained his primary helper and guide; she was still his friend, but he wasn't sure if she was still his lover. His implants remained silent, and without the implant connection, it seemed impossible to know her mind or her desires. They hadn't made love since his return, and he felt awk
ward and frustrated, and even more disconnected. Half the time Legroeder felt helplessly in love with her, and half the time he feared that he had fallen into a hopeless infatuation. Could he hope to share a life, really, with a pirate? It seemed unlikely.

  Over dinner in her quarters, one evening, Tracy-Ace seemed to be reading his thoughts, as she produced a bottle of wine—real wine, apparently—and began to open it. "Legroeder, you're tense. You've been tense."

  "Well—"

  She popped the seal and squinted at him. "Let me guess. You think there's a contradiction between the person you thought I was, and the person you're afraid I am. Is that it?"

  Legroeder didn't answer. He took the wine bottle from her and studied it instead. The label was in an unfamiliar language. Where'd they get real wine here on Fortress Ivan? Did they have their own vineyards? It seemed unlikely. He handed it back and sat beside her on the edge of the bunk.

  "Well, you're right," she said, pouring a glass and holding it up to the light. The wine had a robust claret color. Heaven knew what it was going to taste like, if it was home grown. She handed it to him.

  Nervously, he took a sip, and at once felt depressed. It was much too good to be locally made. He was drinking the booty of piracy.

  "YZ/I did all of the things you're thinking of," Tracy-Ace said. "And I'm guilty of complicity."

  "Yes?" he whispered, his voice choked off by pain.

  "I'm no angel," she said pointedly.

  "But—" his voice caught "—you didn't order—"

  "Fleets out to raid shipping? No. But I worked with him; I've sentenced people to captivity; I can't say I wasn't involved."

  Guilty, Legroeder thought silently. He stared at the floor, his heart aching. And what were his needs, his secret agendas? What would he hate to admit to her?

  For a moment, he wished desperately for the implant connection, so that he could get it all over with in one big exchange of confessions. A moment later, he was deeply, fervently grateful for the lack. Bad enough this way, he thought.