by Sharon Lee
She closed her eyes, hearing the question fully, shaking her head with the Terran not-so.
''They said they could get him to medics, that he had some time off coming, and a vacation --''
Her voice drifted off, remembering Tommee's wounds, the still, bloodied form of the man who had targeted her cab, and, later, standing before the Council, hearing their judgment come down. So much lost, that day, by so many . . .
''It was for my part in the rebellion -- carrying enemy soldiers who were in league with those ships that fired upon the homeworld -- that is why I am here. On Surebleak.'' She took a breath and met Cheever McFarland's eyes. ''If I was to aid Korval in their madness, then I might go to them in their banishment.''
He frowned. ''That was your sentence? The Council sent you to Surebleak?''
''My daughter, who is now delm in my place by the Council's order, sent me to Surebleak. The Council wanted my life.''
There was a long pause, then Andy Mack said carefully.
''You go to Korval, once you hit planet?''
She laughed. ''To what end? I did not fight for Korval. I fought to protect my cabs, my daughter, my life. Before that, I negotiated in good faith to ferry a group-client from the port to a city park, and return them, at need.''
''When my daughter -- my delm -- sued for my life, the Council offered this, as leniency: That I might not show my face in Solcintra for twelve years Liaden, nor to be seen anywhere on planet in control of a vehicle until such time as the Council of Clans credited that I had been cured of my errors and was no longer a rash and conspicuous danger to the populace and institutions of Liad. I would be disallowed from forming alliances, making contracts, or adult decisions without the written consent of my delm, or the nadelm if appropriate. That was to be revisited at the end of the dozen years, if the Council of Clans pleased.''
There was silence -- for a moment. Then Andy Mack sighed a heavy sigh for her, putting aside the minute metal piece he'd been studying, moving his hands as if he now rubbed his wrists against unseen shackles.
''House arrest for a dozen years? No time off for good behavior? That's hardly a civilized way to be --''
''Happens,'' said Cheever sharply, ''and we've both talked to a man on-world who had his delm do the same.'' He looked to her.
''What about your cab -- could you bring that?''
She shook her head, Terran-style.
''My cab,'' she said, ''my cab that carried you to Dragon's Valley -- that was destroyed on the spot where Tommee exited; we took pieces of sharpness --'' here she paused, not knowing the exactly correct word . . .
''Shrapnel,'' Andy Mack said. ''That could hurt a civilian vehicle pretty bad.''
''Thank you. The Commander Higdon, an excellent man for all that he was banished forever from Liad on pain of death, he offered to replace my cab, but that replacement vehicle was --'' here she sighed out loud against her own wishes -- ''That vehicle was dedicated. It is to be used for carrying the Council Speaker only, and to be manned by drivers furnished around the clock by Wylan.''
There was a loud snap then as McFarland stretched both hands, interlocked, to the ends of his arm with quite some energy.
''So they stole your cab, took your ring, and took your name. Then they tossed you randomly off-world?''
She looked down to her Ringless hand.
''That last, no, not that. Even a madwoman must obey her delm. So it was that Wylan commanded me to go off-world, for she knows my limits perhaps not so finely as I do myself, but near enough. Twelve years a drain upon my House -- that, I would not, could not, abide. And so I was granted capital, and a berth arranged -- to Surebleak. I think Fereda -- my daughter, though perhaps not my delm -- had hoped that Korval's wing would unfurl.''
''But you didn't ask.''
''This is not of the Dragon's melant'i, but my own.''
They exchanged glances, the two Terrans, and it was Cheever McFarland who asked, ''So, what're you doing for work?''
''I have just this afternoon had an offer of work,'' she said, ''but first, I must ask --'' She looked to Andy Mack.
He nodded, watching her.
''Are you also called the Colonel, and have you offered to stake Jemie a cab, if she hires a second driver?''
A grin spread slowly over his face.
''Now, then, happens I am and happens I do. You applyin'?''
''I am, if --'' She looked to the other man, who was watching interestedly -- ''if Pilot McFarland may give me a reference.''
He laughed, and her stomach sank, hearing in his merriment the last and best of her slender hopes dissolving.
''Give you a reference? Hell, I'll buy you a cab!''
''No, hey, now -- none o'that! Competition's all well and good, in its place. What we need right now is a port-n-city taxi squad that's honest, strange as that word might fall on your ear, there, Pilot. If Ms. Vertu's willin' to take Jemie on, then I think we're on the way to solving a couple problems right now.''
''I would welcome the work,'' Vertu said, looking between the two of them. ''Wylan has driven cabs for many generations. We have experience that, perhaps, Jemie might find to -- to our profit.''
''Startin' with gettin' the name of the taxi service big enough to be read 'cross the street,'' Cheever said.
''That,'' Vertu admitted, with a smile, ''is one of the first things I will speak of with her.''
''All right, then,'' Colonel Andy Mack said. ''Soon's I can get the news to Jemie, you got work.''
''Jemie had stopped at the Emerald for her supper, and asked me to come by when I had finished here. She proposed to take me home as a free-fare, with the debt to be paid that I drive for her some day when there was need.''
''Well, now she can drive her partner home and bring 'er back to port tomorrow to pick up 'er cab.''
Andy Mack grinned and stuck out his hand, Terran style. Vertu blinked, then placed her hand in his.
They shook.
''Done!''
'''bout time,'' Cheever McFarland said. ''Speaking of the Emerald, I'm heading back that way, Ms. Vertu, and I'd take it kindly if you'd have some supper with me before you go on home. If Jemie can't wait, I'll drive you back.''
''Thank you,'' she said, rising. ''That is very kind, but --''
''No buts,'' he said firmly, and bowed her toward the back door ahead of him.
*
It was spring at last, insofar as Surebleak entertained the season. Vertu dea'San sat in her cab outside of the Emerald Casino on the Port, awaiting her contracted fare.
Who was . . . about to be late. She lowered the window, settling back into the seat that by now knew her shape, and considered starting the meter. Spring had brought the addition of a third cab to Jemie's fleet, and a new driver, known to the Colonel, for he had grown up on a Surebleak street. One leg was cybernetic, but that was no handicap to the cab, and he held the streets in his head like a driver-born. Soon, they would need a fourth driver to stand at call, and she and Jemie had discussed the possibility of branching out into the ground-courier bidness.
The Emerald's door opened, and a big man exited, crossing to the cab in a half-dozen long strides, and settling familiarly into the seat beside the driver.
'''Evenin','' he said, pulling the door closed and giving her a grin. ''Ready?''
She nodded, looking down at herself -- a white shirt and a dark sweater under a spring-weight jacket; new trousers and boots. She was as presentable as she might be, for this trip out to the end of the road, and an introduction she thought never to receive.
''Know the way?'' Cheever asked her, waking the echo of memories.
Vertu grinned and put the car into gear.
''I know the way,'' she said. ''The question becomes -- Can we afford the fare?''
He laughed, and she did, and the car slipped into traffic, heading out the Road, toward Korval.
* * *
About the Authors
Sharon Lee and Steve Miller are the co-authors of the best-selling L
iaden Universe® series and have been writing together since the first “Kinzel” stories hit Fantasy Book in the 80s. They started the first Liaden story in 1984 and have published more than a dozen novels and several dozen short works in that series alone.
Along the way they've become fan favorites at SF conventions from California, USA to Fredericton, Canada, with Guest of Honor and Special Guest appearances at PenguiCon, COSine, AlbaCon, Trinoc*con, ConDuit, MarsCon, ShevaCon, BaltiCon, PortConMaine, SiliCon, Second Life Library, and elsewhere.
They count Baen, Del Rey, Meisha Merlin, Ace Books, Phobos, and Buzzy Multimedia among their English language publishers and have several foreign language publishers as well. Their short fiction, written both jointly and singly, has appeared in Absolute Magnitude, Catfantastic, Dreams of Decadence, Fantasy Book, Such a Pretty Face, 3SF, and several incarnations of Amazing.
Lee and Miller's work has enjoyed a number of award nominations, with Scout's Progress being selected for the Prism Award for Best Futuristic Romance of 2001 and Local Custom finishing second for the same award. Local Custom was published by Buzzy Multimedia as an audio book read by Michael Shanks, Stargate's Daniel. Balance of Trade appeared in hardcover in February 2004 and hit Amazon.com and Locus genre bestseller lists before going on to win the Hal Clement Award as Best YA Science Fiction for the year.
Their most recent Liaden novel is Mouse and Dragon (sequel to Scout's Progress), published in summer of 2010, with Ghost Ship due August in 2011 by Baen. Baen is also reprinting the original ten Liaden novels in four omnibus editions and has contracted with the authors for three additional Liaden novels due in 2012.
Steve was Founding Curator of Science Fiction for the University of Maryland's SF Research Collection as well as Vice Chair of the Baltimore in 80 WorldCon bid, while Sharon has been Executive Director, Vice President, and President of the Science Fiction Writers of America; together they were BPLAN Virtuals, an ebook publisher in the late 1980s. These backgrounds give them a unique perspective on the science fiction field.
