by Eric Flint
“We made a mistake,” said Toll. “We thought it was some kind of hyperelectronic tracker. The Soman base was apparently quite heavily shielded with multi-frequency jammers to deal with anything but short-range comms. They had a relay station on the Maciree Mountains which converted all their own short-range transmissions into long-range closed-beam messages—which is what Me’a tapped into. That’s how they kept contact with their various other holdings.”
“Should have checked,” said Goth, gruffly.
“We thought we had,” said Threbus. “The information we got was that it was a signaler…which it was, sort of. We knew that agents from Iradalia had spent a huge amount of money on buying the company that makes the forcecuffs that the Soman Consortium regularly ordered. The amounts were big enough that the Daal’s bank on Uldune tipped us off. They were keeping an eye on transactions out of Iradalia, at our request. We arranged for the regular vessel to have a breakdown, so we could get the cargo onto the Venture 7333, as an apparent charter to deliver. Of course, the Iradalian authorities were waiting for the regular ship, and then got news that the cargo was coming on another vessel. But seeing as the vessel normally brought Soman cargoes, they let the Soman Consortium know. The Iradalians were in a terrible state, not knowing which vessel it was on, or exactly when to expect it.”
“Which explains the performance with their customs,” said Pausert.
“Yes. Nothing else went to their plan either. Their bomb had a radio-frequency response—which they tried but the jamming and shielding were too good,” said Goth.
“Besides, we’d changed the trigger mechanism,” said Pausert. “But why did it work when we did it?”
“You had destroyed the jammer with their command-and-control setup,” said Threbus. “Or that is what we think.”
“Well, at least with the Arerrerr out of the equation, I hope that there’s no more danger to Karres and the future from that pair of planets,” said Goth, her fingers still twined with the captain’s as they sat together.
Threbus smiled. “They’ve vanished pretty much from the prognosticator’s horizon. Without the money from slaving—the high-value Karoda slaves were fetching in excess of a million maels apiece—and taxation on that effectively supporting Iradalia…”
“I thought Iradalia taxed so high to make the slave trade unprofitable?”
“Maybe originally that was the idea. But it became their main source of revenue. So now both Iradalia and Karoda have suffered a big cut in income. The Iradalian invasion was possibly the worst disaster they’ve yet had. They threw everything at capturing the Arerrerr, and their troops and populace knew it. Of course they failed, and less than ten percent of their troops made it home. It caused enormous political unrest. So they have a new high priest of Irad.”
“I hope he’s somewhat better than the last one,” said the captain.
“Oh, I think so,” said Toll. “Oddly, it’s none other than your friend Farnal. He came out of there, able to claim success, with a caring bunch of new converts. He and his group of ‘siblings’ are busy transforming a theocracy into a charitable organization, by all accounts.”
“Well, that’s another situation dealt with, although it was one the vatches almost certainly had a large hand in. I’m not sure I like being a plaything and manipulated,” said the captain, seeing if he could rell vatch, and failing.
Toll smiled. “And now you will be getting married.”
Pausert was still coming to grips with that. Something in his expression made Threbus laugh.
“None of us are ever quite ready for that moment, youngster.” He nodded toward his daughter. “We do what we do without that readiness, just as we do everything else. And just as Karres changes the human galaxy, we change each other. It’s not just you and Goth. Look at your parents, Pausert.”
“Yes,” said the captain, saddened a bit at the thought. “I wish…I wish I knew that had been successful. My mother and my father gave up so much for each other. They deserved some happiness at the end of it. I mean, yes, they had a few moments, but it would be nice to imagine more.”
Threbus smiled slyly. “There is no need to imagine, Grandnephew. We know. Your parents gave birth to a Karres witch, in you. A fortuitous combination of genes, with only a small linkage to Karres, and not a direct one of being born the child of a Karres witch, with the ability to manipulate klatha. It’s a rare thing, and we watch out for it and recruit them. That’s how I ended up on Karres. But where did it start, you may ask? As it happens, we do have very good records going all the way back to Karres’ founders. They left from old Yarthe and settled on Karres—bringing with them the design of the engines from a ship of a type Yarthe had abandoned. Engines that could move a whole planet, with a little klatha help. And their genetic line was known to have produced a Karres witch before. That line produced children who could manipulate klatha.”
Goth started laughing, before Pausert worked it out. “You mean…” he said incredulously.
“Yes,” said Toll. “You’re marrying into your own family, many thousands of generations removed. And yes, they lived long, happy and full lives. We have records. And I believe there’s a message from them waiting for you, to be read at your wedding.”
The captain didn’t know whether to be elated or disgruntled. He settled on both. “Do you mean to tell me you—you and Toll both—have known all along that Goth and I were eventually going to get married? That’s—that’s…”
He frowned at Goth. “And you too?”
“Nope. First I heard of it. But I knew pretty much right away it was going to happen. Bound to.”
She smiled. “I’m a witch of Karres, don’t forget. Might even become a prognosticator, one of these days.”
Pausert shook his head. “Please don’t. I’m pretty sure having a wife who knows me as well as you do is going to be enough of a challenge, without you being able to foretell the future as well.”
She grinned, then. “I said. I’m a witch of Karres.”
