“I’ll do what I’ve always done,” Lyth said. “I’ll wait Juliyana out.” There was more than a dollop of wry self-awareness in his voice. “She will be back.”
Through the nanobot constructed walls of the diner, a metallic grinding sounded. I jerked upright. “Lyssa?”
“The outer hatch just opened,” Lyssa said. After a pause, she added, “It is Calpurnia.”
“She opened the outer hatch by herself? While weightless?” The outer hatch was too heavy for the average human to open without assistance from Lyssa.
“She put her boot on my hull,” Lyssa said, sounding affronted.
I glanced at Lyth, startled. “You weren’t kidding about the enhancements.”
“I didn’t think mind-reading was one of them,” he replied. “It has to be a coincidence that she arrived right now. What does she want, Lyssa?”
“She wants to speak to Danny.” Lyssa paused again, for she would be standing with Calpurnia, talking with her even as she was talking to us. “She didn’t realize that our ship time wasn’t matched to theirs. It’s just past noon on the Penthos.”
“Bring her here,” I told Lyssa, for the diner was neutral territory, and Lyth’s presence would stop me from over-reacting. “And turn the lights up, please.”
The light level rose and Lyth winced and blinked, adjusting to the brightness.
I didn’t bother warning Lyth to be nice to the woman because I knew damn well he’d be nicer than I would. I, on the other hand, wanted to rip the metal guts out of her.
—26—
Calpurnia glanced around the diner. Her gaze paused for a long heartbeat on the street view through the windows, but as it was night out there, most of the residents of the sleepy little town were off-stage.
Then Calpurnia’s gaze moved on, sizing up, taking in details. She was measuring the room the way a combatant did, but her nod to Lyth and me was polite, even relaxed. She came to a halt a few paces away from the table. The overhead light made the thick golden streaks in her hair gleam. I wondered if they weren’t cosmetic, after all.
“Sorry to disturb your evening,” she told me.
“But now you have…?” I replied.
She blinked at that. “I have the coordinates for the closest planet we suspect to be staked out by the Blue ones. We should move there as soon as possible.” She stepped forward and put a datasphere on the table in front of me.
I looked down at the scratched old ball, puzzled. “You could have given those coordinates to Lyssa and left us undisturbed.”
Calpurnia shook her head. She had a narrow, delicate chin, which was at odds with the bouncing, muscled strength of her. In fact, her face was a lovely heart-shape, which I had failed to notice until now. “Using Lyssa for communications would be against the terms of our contract.”
Both Lyth and I stared at her.
“What?” I managed to ask.
Calpurnia stood at ease, her feet apart, her hands neutral, hanging at her sides. She shrugged, as if we had merely raised a brow, instead of being utterly speechless. “No AI assistance. They’re paying a bonus for us to do it the hard way.”
Paper charts and printouts. Manually figuring out odds and locations…
“No one can operate without AI assistance in deep space,” I shot back, my ire rising. “Whose stupid ass idea was that? It puts the entire fucking ship at risk! What was she thinking, taking a contract like that?”
“We can use computers,” Calpurnia said, with the tiniest of shrugs. She seemed uninterested in our horror, which made me calm down a fraction and wonder if her indifference was hiding something.
“Who is your contract with?” I demanded, suspicion building.
“I can’t say,” Calpurnia replied.
“Fuck non-disclosures,” I began heatedly, but Lyth squeezed my arm, this time, and I sucked back in all the venom that wanted to spew.
“It doesn’t matter whose signature is at the bottom of the contract,” Lyth told me. “It won’t be a real name. But I don’t need to know the real name.” He looked at Calpurnia, his gaze steady. “They’re Humanists,” he said, for my benefit. “One of their own got snatched by the Blue ones, and they want them back…but on their terms.”
Calpurnia crossed her arms, which made her impressive biceps and shoulders flex.
“That is why Juliyana didn’t come to me for help,” Lyth added. I could hear the bitterness in his tone, buried but there.
I studied Calpurnia. Had she dropped this morsel upon Lyth to make him hurt? She had succeeded, if that was her goal.
“I want to speak to Juliyana,” I told her.
“I speak on her behalf,” Calpurnia replied.
“You could represent the ghosts of the Imperial House of fucking Tanique, and I still wouldn’t deal with you,” I told her. “You have a personal agenda, and you’re using the current situation to advance it. That makes you an unpleasant human, and means you’re tripping me up.”
Calpurnia opened her mouth to speak, her eyes narrowed angrily.
I didn’t give her the chance. “If Juliyana wants us to cooperate, she can get her ass over here and deal with me, captain to captain. Otherwise, go back to your ship, detach, and fuck off. I’m done with this game.”
Calpurnia pursed her lips. “Very well,” she said stiffly, turned and walked out of the diner.
“And escort her to the hatch, Lyssa!” I added.
“I am,” Lyssa said, her tone calm.
Lyth rubbed his jaw. “Danny…”
“No. This is Juliyana’s doing. She’s trying to slap both of us for some reason that we won’t figure out dealing with Calpurnia, because she doesn’t know what it is. That’s why Juliyana sent her.” I shook my head. “I meant it when I said I’m done playing this game.” I got to my feet. “Coffee for both of us, and food for you,” I said firmly.
“Yes, Captain,” Lyth said, his tone meek, which didn’t fool me for a minute, either.
—27—
Juliyana took her time crossing over to the Lythion. I’d expected that and used the time to sober Lyth as much as possible. I briefly considered waking Jai and Marlow and telling them to cross over here, too. And Sauli should be in on it, too.
But there was the unknown factor that held my hand. Juliyana was playing this stupid game for a reason that had to be very personal, but I couldn’t figure it out yet. It would be kinder to keep this just between us for now. If there was anything important that needed passing along, I could do it later.
The first cup of coffee I pushed in front of Lyth had a half-dose of sobersol in it, which would minimize the side-effects, but diminish the impact of the alcohol enough for him to make sensible decisions.
Lyth cooperated. He ate and drank everything I put in front of him. He knew as well as I did that he needed to be sober, now.
“You have shitty timing,” I told him, as he grimaced and picked up the third cup of coffee.
“This sort of stuff never comes at a good time, have you noticed?” And he drank.
I kept the lights up high in the diner, and I also had Lyssa drop the temperature in there by a couple of degrees. That made the coolness not quite uncomfortable but would help us stay alert.
Juliyana arrived with her entourage. The two unenhanced men, armed to the teeth, and Calpurnia.
“There is no threat here,” I pointed out coldly, while Juliyana stood a dozen paces from the table with her arms crossed. “Send your people back.”
“I move everywhere with them.”
There were a dozen arguments I could have made but I rejected all of them and gritted my teeth. “Get rid of them, Juliyana. You really want them to hear what comes next?”
Her eyes narrowed. Then she glanced over her shoulder at the pair. “Go back and get the ship ready to jump.”
One of them nodded and the pair left.
Calpurnia remained. I looked at her. “You, too.”
“She stays,” Juliyana said.
Calpurnia li
fted her chin, looking at me.
“Don’t feel too pleased,” I warned her. “Most of the time, when people say you should probably leave, you end up wishing you had listened, I’ve found.”
Calpurnia shrugged.
“Okay, then,” I replied, with a sigh.
“To the bone, huh?” Lyth murmured to me.
I glared at him.
That seemed to make him happier.
I got right to it. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, working for Humanists?” I demanded of Juliyana.
She had been braced for this, for her expression didn’t slip by a millimeter. “That’s really none of your business.”
“When Lyth is a member of my family? That makes it my business. And his. Did you even stop to consider for a single second about the…the morals of working for them?”
Juliyana shifted her gaze to Lyth, then back to me. “They’re paying a fuck-ton of money. That’s the only moral in question.”
“They lost family, too,” Calpurnia added, her tone righteous.
“And Lyth just narrowly avoided another assassination attempt by them, less than a week ago!” I thumped the table.
Calpurnia jumped.
Juliyana flinched, but she was already holding herself in, controlling her reactions, hiding everything, so only that tiny tic showed. That, and her gaze shifted back to Lyth and away.
I’d surprised her. More than that. But she still had all her shields up.
“Lyth deserves an explanation,” I added.
“Then why isn’t he asking for it?” Juliyana replied.
“Because I’m too insulted to want to speak to you right now,” Lyth replied. His tone was icy.
Juliyana breathed hard. She could feel the ground shifting beneath her. “It has been my policy for…for years, to not pick sides.” Her tone was defensive, but I suspected she was also speaking truthfully. We’d nudged her that far, at least. “Picking sides…that’s how we ended up on Nijeliya, fighting to survive. It’s why the Empire imploded.”
“But Humanists, Juliyana?” I breathed. “Did you even hesitate?”
Her glance shifted back to Lyth and away. She didn’t speak.
Stalemate.
I got to my feet. “Sit down, both of you. It’s late for us. We’re tired. Go on, sit.”
Calpurnia headed for the table without glancing at Juliyana. Juliyana stayed where she was as I brushed by her.
“Where are you going?” she demanded.
“To get coffee. Late, remember?”
“I don’t want coffee.”
“Sit, anyway,” I told her. “You owe us that much.”
She considered that, then moved over to the table and sat next to Calpurnia, which put her at an angle from Lyth. It wasn’t her usual seat.
Lyth grimaced when I put the three mugs on the table. Only Calpurnia reached for hers with any enthusiasm.
I sat and sipped. I’d had enough, too, but drinking anything was sociable. It could take the edge off communications.
“You’re not drinking?” Lyth asked Juliyana.
“I don’t want any.”
“You love this coffee,” Lyth pointed out, a furrow between his brows. Which was true. It had a thick, rich flavor that I also enjoyed, when I wasn’t on my third mug of it.
“I don’t want the caffeine,” Juliyana said stiffly.
“Since when?”
Calpurnia lowered her mug. She looked as though she had taken a fist to her metal-lined belly. Her mouth was open. She glanced at Lyth and back at Juliyana.
It was her expression that opened the door of understanding for me. I put my mug down, too. “How long have you been avoiding caffeine?” I asked. “And why not just ask for decaffeinated? Or would that be too telling?”
Lyth made a soft sound. He’d figured it out, too.
Calpurnia’s face worked. “You’re pregnant?” Hurt oozed from her. She looked at Lyth once more and her misery doubled.
Juliyana didn’t look at any of us. Her chin stayed up, her eyes shielded, giving nothing away.
“It’s his?” Calpurnia asked, her voice rising.
Juliyana nodded.
Calpurnia got to her feet, staring down at Juliyana. Her chin looked even more delicate now.
I held my teeth together, fighting the powerful need to point out to Calpurnia that I had warned her about the dangers of staying for a conversation to which she wasn’t invited. There was no need to rub it in.
Calpurnia stalked away, all the bounce and energy in her stride gone.
I got to my feet. “You two should talk,” I said to Lyth and Juliyana. Lyth looked like he’d taken a blow, too, but deep in his eyes, happiness lurked.
Juliyana sighed. “And this is why I didn’t say anything,” she pointed out. “Because suddenly, it’s a drama and everyone is running around beating their chests.”
“It is dramatic,” Lyth shot back. “It is a child, Juliyana.”
I picked up the datasphere that Calpurnia had brought over from the Penthos, and took it to the bridge, to prepare for the teeny hop over to the location that Juliyana’s data suggested was one the Blue guys had staked out.
Juliyana would work with us, now, instead of fighting us every step of the way. She’d delivered her sting and while Lyth would have to deal with that on a personal level, we could all get on with the business at hand in the meantime.
We had a hook to bait.
—28—
We moved over to a gas giant orbiting around a red dwarf. At first, I didn’t want to go through the fuss of setting up cables and molecular tunnels between the three ships, but it was simpler than using the shuttles—for everyone else, at least. I stayed on the Lythion. I refused to pull myself out into a cold vacuum. I didn’t care how old the tech was.
“It entrenches us,” I’d pointed out. “We can’t break away and run if we need to.”
“They’re fast detach cables,” Sauli pointed out. “Controlled by Lyssa and the two AIs, who follow her lead, now.” For Lyssa had sorted out the other two non-sentient shipminds within a few hours of meeting them. “At the first sign of alert, cables can be loosed, and the exterior hatches battened down in seconds. You’re just being ornery, Danny.”
I glared at him but didn’t protest after that.
We settled into waiting, in relative comfort. Well, the Lythion was comfortable. The Omia was a palace with jets, so no one was hurting, over there. I’d never stepped aboard Juliyana’s ship, so I didn’t know what the level of comfort was like over there. As a converted crescent ship, she was probably cramped, but that was Juliyana’s morale problem to deal with.
While we waited, I had Lyssa run scenarios, based upon analyses of the footage we’d taken of the Blue guys, their ship’s performance and any hint it gave us of their battle strategies.
“We don’t have nearly enough data for this,” Lyssa pointed out as we moved about the map room display, watching the scenarios play out. “The way they reacted to us could be an anomaly. They could normally react in ways we’ve never seen.”
“It’s all we have,” I told her. “But once we’ve extracted what we can from the footage, we start dreaming up wild possibilities and running them through the simulator, too.”
It was something to pass the time, at least. Jai came over some days to see what we’d come up with. Sometimes, Lyth leaned against a wall and watched. He didn’t talk much and I left him alone.
Five days later, I called everyone over to the board room for a quick face-to-face. I sweetened the inconvenience by mentioning we would also be eating. The Lythion’s printer files were unedited originals, massively oversized for a normal ship’s data storage, but the Lythion had plenty of room for data. When Lyth had still been the shipmind and first emerged from his isolation in the bowels of Badelt City, he had refused to swap the printer files for the minimized spacer versions which printed food “indistinguishable” from full files. He’d remained stubborn about it, despite every station w
e called in on assuring us it was the best thing we could do for our shipmind, and for ourselves, and that everyone was doing it.
But there was a difference in the food the edited files produced. It was hard to pin down why they were not the same, for the taste seemed right. They just failed to satisfy in some way, although they were nutritionally sound, and spacers did live on the stuff without long term consequences. So far.
Ships who had only the edited, miniature files mostly put up with food that wasn’t quite right. They could get original files from the nearest station…at a price. Bootleg copies were as bad as the miniaturized files, if not worse. These days, most ships didn’t have the cash to spare for the originals.
So the offer of a meal from the Lythion’s stores was enough incentive to get everyone around the picnic table, their heads down as they concentrated on their plates, while the mild Alpine sun shone.
Over where the pine trees were not shading the ground, a shallow sandy depression had been formed and all five parawolves lay in the sun, well fed and half-asleep. They strongly contrasted each other—silvery black against golden brown, beside white and grey, and pure white.
I let everyone around the picnic table concentrate on their meals until they slowed. Then I said, “It’s been five days. How long do we sit here before we declare that the blue guys aren’t interested in us?”
“Or haven’t noticed us, yet?” Juliyana replied. Her tone wasn’t challenging. She was merely raising a possibility. For the last five days she had been polite but distant with everyone. The air between her and Lyth was strained, but not nearly as much as Juliyana’s relationship with her second. Calpurnia was at the table but had not spoken a word.
“It might be that we’re not doing anything that rouses their curiosity,” Jai pointed out. He pushed his curry away from him and sat back, the green tea he liked in a porcelain cup in one hand. “We just don’t know what will bring them running.”
“Last time, they staked out the Ige Ibas, and waited for us to arrive,” I pointed out. “Maybe they’re doing that with some other ship, in some other section of the galaxy.”
Galactic Thunder Page 15
