"That got a reaction," Freddy said. "Two of the ships out there—they've changed course. Others are shooting at them—Wups!"
"What?"
A fierce green blaze bathed Freddy's face, from a screen she couldn't see. "Someone just tried to boil us! No real damage, but I sure hope they don't do it again. And—look here. Can you see the screen?"
An alien face. A brown-and-white, a Mediator. It spoke alien words. Nothing she recognized at all. It spoke again—
"They hit us again!" Freddy said. "Not so hard, but do something!"
"Surrender," she said. "There's a word—"
"Use it! We can't take many more hits like that!"
"Right. Freddy, we'll have to open the airlock. Both doors."
He did things to the controls. "Whenever you say. Jennifer and Terry are sealed in, suit integrity checks. Yours too. Whenever you say."
"Leave the light on in the airlock. No other lights." "Romantic."
She considered various answers and chose, "Yeah."
* * *
"Let me get this straight," Renner said. "You want me to rig something that makes static and simulates a failure in the communication system."
"Only in the transmission system," Bury said. "Elementary politeness, Kevin. I wish sometimes to be able to observe the Moties while we are not ourselves observed. Let them see static, while we continue to receive their signals. Give the control to me, and do not use it except as I direct. Can you do this?"
"Sure. It could even be real, once or twice, but won't they be suspicious?"
"Of course they will be suspicious. Thank you."
"Need it right now?"
"It would do no harm."
"There are now three fleets at Crazy Eddie's Sister," Eudoxus said. "The new faction we will call the East India Trading Company, a group based in the Belt asteroids, but with many ships. East India was a nominal ally of ours until a few hours ago."
"What happened then?" Renner demanded.
"They will be allies again when we have negotiated new changes in status. I will explain later. In any event East India appears to be losing. So are we. The Crimean Tartars retain possession of your third ship."
"Three fleets. One's yours. Do you have any ships left?"
"One intelligence ship, with a Mediator aboard who is
relaying data. Our other warships could do no good and have been ordered to retreat. No fighting ships remain near Crazy Eddie's Sister."
"Damnation. What can you do?"
"Inform my Master. Request means to communicate with the Crimean Tartars, learn what I can of their situation and goals, and ask what I may offer in trade. You must tell me, Kevin, what must I ask for, what must we have, and what may they keep?"
"Mmm . . ." Kevin rubbed his face. Bristles. "The ship, Hecate, probably isn't worth saving. We want the humans, three to five humans back in good order. Tell them the Empire will be enraged if anything happens to those humans."
"It will, too," Joyce said. "They once sent a hundred ships to avenge the death of a Prince Imperial."
"I hadn't heard that story," Renner said. "Thank you, Joyce."
"Are these people that important?" Eudoxus demanded.
"Not quite," Renner said. "Next thing to it, though. Eudoxus, there are goods, including trade goods aboard Hecate. Some will be very valuable. Others—if possible, consult with the woman Mediator on Hecate. Her name is"—he glanced at Chris Blaine and got a nod—"the Honorable Glenda Ruth Blaine."
"Blaine. As I understand your naming conventions, she will be the daughter of a lord. A Lord Blaine. We know of a Lord Blaine."
"That's the one," Renner said.
"The commander of MacArthur. Second-in-command of your first expedition to us. You have not exaggerated her importance."
"Right. So get Glenda Ruth's opinion as to what to do with those trade goods."
"Their nature?"
"Not known to me. I'd expect them to carry chocolate, though."
"I never tasted chocolate," Eudoxus said.
"The Tartars can have this consignment. We'll get more for you when we can. There may even be some aboard Atropos. Okay?"
"Thank you. They will put restrictions on contacts with their—guests."
"Right. Stand by, I'll see if we have more instructions."
"With your permission I will begin making the Crimeans understand the importance of what they hold. Also to tell them of your life support requirements."
"Good. Thank you." Renner switched off. "Horace?"
Bury had watched in silence. He sipped at the coffee Nabil had brought. "One or another human might want to stay as liaison. Be prepared to give in on this, but ask for the return of all. I think it best not to mention the nature of the cargo."
"Chocolate?" Joyce asked.
Buckman said, "Signal from Eudoxus. Urgent message."
Chris Blaine inhaled sharply, started to say something, but didn't.
"Everyone ready? Here goes." Renner thumbed the communications controls. "News, Eudoxus?"
"Yes. Our observation ship reports that there are now two Crimean Tartar ships attached alongside Hecate. The ship itself does not appear to be harmed and was sending messages just prior to its capture."
Chris Blaine's relief was obvious. Captured was better than killed.
"One message was a broadcast of a Medina Traders hailing signal," Eudoxus said. "The rest were to Crimean Tartar ships and were not intercepted. Stand by a moment— here is one we recorded."
The viewscreen showed a human in full space gear, helmet closed, attached to a web of restraining lines. "We come in peace. Fnamyunch(sniff!)."
"That latter is a Medina Traders recognition signal," Eudoxus said. "She could only have obtained it by speaking with our embassy ship."
"That should help with your negotiations," Bury said.
"Ah? Ah, yes, Excellency, if they believe us, and they should. Thank you."
"Right," Renner said. "Stay on that. Anyone else? Good. Eudoxus, please call your Master and establish negotiations with the—Crimean Tartars."
"We are beginning that now. I will be needed shortly."
"Right. Then do something else for me. Call me back. And try to tell me who all these people are?"
Eudoxus nodded his head and shoulders, smiling, and vanished.
* * *
The colored lights in the control display were the only lights in Hecate. Hecate's four crew waited in a vast dark space, listening to clanking and thudding from the hull. They talked in whispers, and rarely.
With a sound like a gunshot, an elliptical section of hull blasted loose and into Hecate, edge on, straight toward Glenda Ruth. Jennifer shrieked, Freddy yelled warning. Glenda Ruth snapped her tether webbing loose and kicked herself clear . . . almost clear. The mass banged her flailing foot and tumbled aft, its course unaltered, and banged around back there where the cabin tapered to a rounded point. The cabin pressure fell rapidly, climbed, changed again, then stabilized.
Glenda Ruth's unladylike swearing fell into a sudden silence.
She hadn't seen the Motie enter.
Its gripping hand found a handhold. The crude-looking gun in its right hands was pointed at Glenda Ruth. She screamed and covered her face, then hurriedly grabbed a handhold and spread her hands wide.
Freddy asked, "Are you hurt?"
"It cracked me on the shin. Stay tethered, guys. The Motie might have shot me because I was moving. Just wait it out."
"It's a Warrior," Jennifer said.
"I think so. It's got toes, but . . . yeah."
Now the Warrior was gripping handholds with its feet, through digital gloves. A second weapon had appeared, a spiked club. The Warrior's head and shoulders swiveled rapidly. Its gun pointed everywhere. It leaped across the cabin, thudded against the wall, and scanned from there. When it was satisfied, it warble-whistled.
Another Motie came through. It was squat compared to the greyhound look of the Warrior. Its pressure suit hid the pattern
of fur, but its behavior identified it: it was a Brown,
an Engineer. Another Engineer followed and pulled a transparent balloon after it through the hole. Shapes moved within.
The Engineers converged on the controls, sliding past and around Hecate's crew, ignoring them. One began to play with the controls. Freddy seemed braced for disaster, but nothing much was happening.
Another Motie entered. A pressure suit hid her fur; she was a bit larger than the Engineers. A Mediator? The Engineers huddled with the new one, then kicked themselves aft. One opened the balloon and released four Motie shapes each less than half a meter long. They began to work at the aft of Hecate's cabin.
"Brownies," Jennifer said.
Glenda Ruth peered close. The little ones were chocolate brown, darker than an Engineer; and each of these had four arms. Watchmakers, "brownies," the class that had destroyed MacArthur. All but one. The fourth was crawling carefully along the wall, toward the bridge. It was a different color, cream and pale brown, and it had three arms.
It launched from the wall, impacted against Jennifer, and clung. It chirped at her and waited for a response.
Glenda Ruth spoke to the big Motie. "Hello? Can you speak?"
The Motie watched her. "We come in peace for all mankind, and for your sake, too," Glenda Ruth said. "Can you understand me? We carry trade goods. We have the right to make binding treaties."
The newest Motie disappeared through the hole. Ignoring her.
"I can't really tell, but that thing doesn't move like it has anything to say. I don't think it's a Mediator," Glenda Ruth said. "Freddy, don't touch any controls."
"Brace yourselves," Terry said.
Glenda Ruth asked, "Why?" before she noticed that the Warrior had anchored itself with three limbs out of five. A moment later the cabin shuddered and rocked.
Freddy said, "That's torn it. Glenda Ruth, you—"
There was thrust. It built up smoothly over six or seven seconds to a tenth of a gravity and stopped.
Freddy said, "My readings don't connect to the rest of the ship. They've disconnected the cabin."
Jennifer began to laugh. "Maybe they'll bring the rest separately," she said, "and give it back."
"Oh, thank you very much. Nevertheless I fear Hecate's racing days are over. Any idea what's happening?"
Glenda Ruth said carefully, "Ooyay ohknay apingtay us eythey areay."
"What? Ah. What else?"
"Henry Hudson and the Medina Traders believed themselves in control here," she said. "Clearly they aren't."
"Who is?"
"I don't know, but it changes everything, doesn't it? The Empire will make no important deals with anyone who doesn't speak for all of the Moties."
"Oh. All right. Now what just happened?"
"We've been captured by a warship. They don't understand what they have, but they can see it's valuable, so they'll be asking for orders. Eventually they'll send a Mediator. Who may or may not know Anglic, Freddy."
"There's air," Freddy said. "Best open up the suits to save the air tanks."
Jennifer tentatively opened her faceplate. "Smells all right—hey!"
Terry Kakumi swiveled toward her. "What?"
"It's a Mediator pup!" Jennifer said. "It has to be. Look, brown and white, and not much bigger than a Watchmaker, that's what it is. Glenda Ruth—"
"Figures," Glenda Ruth said. "As soon as they knew they'd be dealing with humans, they bred a Mediator. Jennifer, I think you've got a friend for life."
Jennifer and the Mediator pup considered each other wonderful. Jennifer cradled it in her arms and answered when it talked. The sounds it made were nonsense, but gradually they began to sound like Jennifer herself.
When she handed the creature to Terry, it cried and tore itself free and jumped off Terry's chin to reach her again. The pup wanted no part of other humans.
So the waiting was hard for the rest of them, and the entertainment thin. Glenda Ruth considered running a history flick on the monitors. Were the other classes, the Warriors and Engineers, really so specialized that they wouldn't watch?
"They've plugged all the holes in the cabin," Freddy said. "Near as I can tell, this is normal Hecate air."
"Temperature's all right, too," Jennifer said. She fondled the pup's ear.
"Obvious. They tore the cabin loose and sealed it and gave us our own life support system back. We're alive but helpless. They'll have time to copy our gear before anything stops working," Glenda Ruth said. "Air doesn't worry me as much as . . ."
"Yes?"
"Freddy, there may be more battles. Over us."
"Good news from all over," Jennifer Banda said. "I always wondered what the crown felt like when the lion and the unicorn fought over it."
* * *
Eudoxus seemed calm. "My Master has been informed. She will set other Mediators to the task of regaining your companions. Our observations show that the inhabited portions of Hecate have been detached from the rest of the ship. The life support systems appear to be intact. Meanwhile, there is heavy message traffic throughout that region. I'll pass on more information as it develops."
Renner said, "But you can at least tell me who's involved, can't you?"
"I can tell you what we have learned of the Crimean Tartars. They were among the powers in the moon system of Mote Beta until they were cast out in a complicated contest with the major Mote Beta clan we call Persia. The Tartar group then subsisted on trade and service to other powers until they were swallowed by the Khanate. They're much smaller now, of course, and as nothing has been heard of them, we thought they must have been successfully integrated into the Khanate families. In light of their capture of your ship we must conclude that they retained some independent identity."
Renner considered the death rate implicit in the phrase
they're much smaller now among a people who die if they can't get pregnant. "Okay. East India?"
"Please reassure me that His Excellency is listening."
Horace Bury sighed. "Put me on."
Kevin turned off his mike. "You sure?"
"We will learn from each other. If I can't catch him in a lie, perhaps"—he jerked his head at Chris Blaine—"another can."
Kevin nodded and swiveled the camera. Bury said, "Greetings, Eudoxus."
The Motie bowed; the one ear folded flat, then extended.
"You spoke of the year we spent in Mote system as Period One. Period Two you spent sending ships to break the Empire blockade at Murcheson's Eye. Is it so?"
"Yes, Excellency. Period One began as MacArthur intercepted a miner belonging to Medina Trading. Thereafter a Mote Prime group headed by a powerful planetary Master who called himself King Peter took control of communications with the human expedition."
"Was there a battle?" Renner asked.
"None that you were intended to notice."
"I saw none,” Renner said.
"His Excellency noticed the change," Eudoxus said. "I know because—"
"Yes, of course," Bury said. "What I saw was that the Mote Prime group had no interest at all in the creature we had aboard—and although that Engineer had sent a message to its home, nothing came of that."
"Bloody Hell," Renner muttered. "The skipper never thought of that, and neither did I."
"That also was clear," Eudoxus said. "Only His Excellency understood the true situation." He looked expectantly at Bury. "So. Period One ended with MacArthur destroyed and your battleship Lenin departing Mote system. The ship and its recorded observations sent back by our Engineer you took aboard gave Medina knowledge of how to build an energy shield . . . Langston Field? Name of a human inventor?"
Kevin said, "Right."
The Motie was amused. Naming a tool for an Engineer! "Our wanderings began shortly after. Our Master saw that there would be great changes, and Medina Traders would not be powerful enough to hold where we were. Thus we traded what we had to Persia: they would take our territory and give us ships. Then during our withdrawal from
the Mote Beta Trailing Trojans," she said, "our Engineers developed a working Langston Field and traded it to Persia for more assistance in withdrawing to the comets.
"It was bad timing. If we had been larger and more powerful, we need not have abandoned our base at all. With what we gave them and what they had, Persia came to rule the Mote Beta moons. They didn't merely arm ships with your Field. They skimmed through the remains of the Mote Beta Ring. After a million years of mining, the planet retained only a narrow ring of dust, but that was megatons of dust. One pass and Persia had it all. We could have had that ourselves . . . but we were too far away and might not have held it, and in any case we had set our sights further."
Blaine caught Bury's eye. They exchanged nods. Blaine's voice came to Renner on the private intercom circuit. "Medina plans far and acts fast. And they've got some of the best Engineers in the system."
"During Period Two we tested your blockade at the Eye." Eudoxus said, "To do that we needed the assistance of the group we call Byzantium. This is a large and powerful coalition located in the Mote Gamma moons, far from Persia, far from our original home in Mote Beta's Trailing Trojans. I may give you details of our negotiations with them—"
"For the moment, continue your story."
"Well, then, various bandits had already noted our activity. East India Company was one of those. This is the group I spoke of, asteroid based, many ships, nominal allies of Medina until recently, and should be again if things go as planned.
"Still with me? The period during which the Curdle in the Coal Sack might be expected to collapse is Period Three. King Peter of Mote Prime gave you data we knew to be incorrect, data indicating that the Curdle would not become a star for some time. Incidentally, King Peter's data were incorrect also. They did not expect the star to ignite for another fifty of your years. We knew better, and we had the advantage of knowing what the Empire had been told. Of
course we did not know precisely when the star would form, and indeed the date we expected was years too early."
"Wow," Joyce said. Her voice was barely audible.
The Gripping Hand Page 25
