Then Lin took a running leap up onto the stage and walked quickly to Portmaster Srolli's side. The two women conferred, Lin gesturing out at the silent knot of Free Traders, then at the angry, increasingly louder crowd. Bain realized that more and more frowns were directed at the Spacers, from the military as well as the Commonwealth and Conclave merchants.
A shrill whistle penetrated the bedlam, shocking nearly a quarter of the arguments into silence. Bain grinned, realizing what Lin had done. She whistled again and stomped up to the edge of the platform and raised her arms to signal silence from everyone. Today she wore scarlet trousers, a black and gold-striped shirt, and a royal blue jacket with wide flaring sleeves like wings. She caught their attention quickly, and held it.
“Something tells me,” she said, managing to shout without sounding like she shouted, “that you expect all Free Traders to start bombing innocent paper-pushers."
Startled silence grew. Then someone chuckled. A few more chuckles answered. Bain sank back in his chair until he felt the pressure against his back. He scowled and sat forward again.
“Let me assure you of two things, fellow captains,” Lin continued. “First, no Free Trader ship that I know of has ever carried weapons, except for equipment which could be turned to defense in a desperate situation. I speak for all the Free Trader captains in this room when I say that if you doubt our peaceful intentions on Gemar, port authorities are free and welcome to come inspect our ships. And the second is—” She took another step forward, putting her toes over the edge of the stage. “We are aware that the attacking ship yesterday was tentatively identified as the Nova Corona, last known captained by Marlin Feris."
“What is that supposed to mean, ‘last known'?” a man shouted from the shadows near the top of the seats. Bain thought it was the same man who had shouted before, but he couldn't be sure.
“Exactly what I said,” she retorted, with scorn dripping like rancid oil in her voice. “No Free Trader captain in this room has seen or heard from Marlin Feris, or seen the Nova Corona, in less than ten years. A lot of things can happen in that time."
“Like a man becoming a traitor to the creed of the Free Traders?” a woman called from the Commonwealth side of the room.
“It's possible."
Nasty laughter came from a few spots in the room. Bain thought they were all Conclave people, but he couldn't be sure.
“Consider this.” Lin stood straight and tall, hands on her hips as if she stared down a group of bad little children. “The Nova Corona doesn't have a ship-brain. Someone could suborn a Human captain, but they would have to disable the ship-brain to take over the ship."
“That's all nice and easy on the rest of you, isn't it?” another man shouted from the Conclave side.
Bain frowned and wondered if anyone else noticed that consistency. The Conclave certainly seemed eager to paint all Free Traders as villains and dangerous. Did it mean that nobody else in the room wanted to believe that the peaceful, ethical Spacers would suddenly change and destroy property and kill people?
Or did it mean the people shouting accusations knew the truth and were trying to cover it up by deflecting attention elsewhere?
In his studies of other cultures, Bain had found an interesting and somewhat confusing fact. People who were the most guilty of crimes often shouted the loudest about justice and retribution, to focus attention off themselves. If they could convince everyone else that they had been injured too, who would ever consider them as suspects?
Bain touched his collar link and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. The shouted questions and accusations continued in the amphitheater, drowning out the sound of his voice. Even someone sitting next to him couldn't have heard his voice, much less discerned his words.
“Ganfer, what are the chances some Conclave people could get hold of a Spacer ship that doesn't have a ship-brain, and use it to attack Gemar?” He stopped short as he realized he already had the perfect motivation for the attack. “If Gemar thinks members of the Commonwealth are turning against them, could they try to pull out and rejoin the Conclave?"
“Unknown. I will need to access trends in public feeling since Gemar left the Conclave to join the Commonwealth,” Ganfer responded.
“Do it, will you?"
“Anyone who believes a Free Trader has the firepower to attack anyone, even in self-defense, is a fool,” Captain Yanson of the Free Trader ship Polarity boomed through the rising volume in the amphitheater.
Bain turned just quickly enough to irritate his healing back. He frowned at the gray-haired, wiry man, wondering what he was leading into.
“Would you like to explain?” Portmaster Srolli asked. She gestured for silence, and to Bain's surprise most of the arguing captains and ship crew obeyed.
“Would anyone like to guess how many Free Trader ships have vanished in the last hundred years?” Yanson said. He turned to glare at the Conclave representatives. “Out of a little over forty ships, thirty-seven had just ended a contract with a member of the Conclave when they made their last contact and vanished. Don't you find that suspicious?"
“Space travel is dangerous,” Captain Draik called. He hurried halfway down the aisle, as if eager to face this new accusation. Bain noticed the man stayed in the right-hand aisle, while the Free Traders were seated in the left-hand section. “Consider this war with the Mashrami the Commonwealth just finished. Quite a few of those disappearances can be explained by taking into account the attacks of alien races."
“The Mashrami never came anywhere near Conclave space.” Portmaster Srolli's quiet voice somehow penetrated to the very edges of the amphitheater while louder voices couldn't reach half as far. “The ships which vanished were nowhere near those Commonwealth sectors under attack. The captain has raised a valid point."
“He's implying that the Conclave attacked Spacers who had just finished business dealings with us. That's bad for business,” Draik retorted. “How could we attract more Spacers to work for us, if we kill the ones who leave? Hmm? Tell me that.” He let out a laugh, but it was a harsh, barking, sharp-edged sound.
“Maybe we should qualify that,” Captain Kanlin of the Prisma called from directly in front of Bain. “Spacers who don't vanish after doing business with Conclave people are the ones who renew their contracts. The ones who don't renew their contracts or who refuse to enter into a contract at all, vanish."
“Prove it!” the Conclave captain shouted.
“Prove it isn't true,” she returned.
“What about the rumors of rogue Free Traders who have turned to piracy?” a woman shouted from the shadows at the very top of the auditorium.
“What rumors?” Yanson shouted. “This is the first time I've heard anything even remotely like that."
“Maybe that's because you have your head in the sand and the heat has baked your brains to uselessness,” Draik snarled.
“Gemar is a major port of commerce,” Portmaster Srolli said. She raised her arms for the attention of the group, and again the volume began to die to reasonable levels. “If such rumors had been circulating, we would have heard them."
“Gemar is a planet full of idealistic fools,” Draik said. He stomped down the aisle nearly to the edge of the platform. “You lost half your common sense when you betrayed the Conclave and joined the Commonwealth. You lost the other half when you were neglected and starved during the war and didn't cut your losses when you had the chance!"
Bain stiffened and turned to look at Lin. She turned and stared at him, and slowly nodded. She had to be thinking the same thing he did.
* * *
Chapter Five
“What doesn't make sense,” Bain said, over lunch at Branda's house, “is that Gemar was nowhere near the Mashrami attack points during the war. Why should they have been neglected? Why would they have been starved?"
“I heard a few things,” Lin admitted. “It'll take more investigation than we...” She stopped and looked at Rhiann and Herin. Both girls picked
at their food, paying more attention to the conversation than their meal. “No, maybe what we need to do is get involved so we find all the answers, not just the ones people want to give us."
“Huh?” Bain said.
“We're staying here until everything is cleared up,” Lin said. “It's the least I can do for Lorian. The girls deserve the truth, and justice."
“What did you hear, Lin?” Branda asked. She settled down at her place between the sisters. She had been hovering over Rhiann and Herin like a chickless hen since their father went back to the Estal'es'cai that morning.
“I've heard stories that during the war, messages didn't get through, false alarms sent people into panics planetwide, and shipments of grain and other foodstuffs were confiscated by the military. I've also heard that the military never sent anyone into this sector of Commonwealth space because it was considered safe. They never raised alarms, never confiscated supplies of any kind, and received none of the calls for help that officials on Gemar claimed they transmitted."
“That doesn't make sense,” Bain said.
“Yes, it does.” Herin put down her spoon. “It sounds like deliberate misinformation, and people pretending to be something and someone they aren't, to create a rift between two cooperating parties."
“Conclave?” he offered.
“Why not? It's the spoilsport mentality. If you can't have something, you don't want anyone else to have it, either."
“Herin?” Rhiann raised her gaze from her neglected bowl of stew. “What if they meant to kill Mother?"
“No.” Her sister went pale.
“What if they deliberately meant to hurt one of us, any of us, because Mother is the Leapers’ representative, and she refused to sign an exclusive contract with the Conclave?"
“They asked for that?” Lin half-rose from her chair in shock and indignation. “Those selfish—” She stopped and swallowed hard and slowly sank back into her seat.
“Is it possible, Captain Lin?” Herin asked.
“Yes,” Branda answered, when Lin just rested her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands and closed her eyes. “It is more than possible. Those spoiled, selfish brats would try to drive all Leapers from this universe, rather than have to share your talents and services with the Commonwealth."
“We have to know the truth,” Rhiann whispered. “This is more than just Mother's death.” She rubbed at her eyes before the first traitorous hint of moisture turned into tears. “This is an attack on all of us."
“I have to know the truth before I decide anything, before I even try to report to the Fleet,” Herin said. She rested her trembling hands flat on the table. “Captain Lin, you're the only person here ... No.” She forced a smile onto her pale face. “You and Bain and Branda are the only people we can trust here. Will you help me?"
“Anything you need, just ask,” Lin said in a half-whisper.
“Me, too,” Bain said. “And the Scouts. Whatever we can do, we'll do it."
* * * *
Bain's Scouts reported that afternoon. Their questions had yielded more detailed information, but it all added up to the same rumors and accusations Bain had heard in the meeting with the portmaster.
The Nova Corona was still the only possible ship that could have attacked the administration building. Marlin Feris was not only a loner, but an experimenter, a frustrated engineer who continually re-designed his ship. The Nova Corona was distinctive in its arrowhead shape among all Spacer ships because Spacers usually stayed with the ancient, rounded designs like Sunsinger.
More names had been found, of Spacers who had vanished under suspicious circumstances, close to the time they cut ties with Conclave employers.
Gemar had indeed been robbed by military personnel during the war with the Mashrami, but no one was certain now if they had been true Commonwealth military, impostors, or even Conclave military forces. Pleas for help, for investigations, and for protection during false alarms had never reached the Commonwealth authorities. Alarms had terrified the population into small-scale riots. People hoarded weapons or fled the planet. Some of them vanished into space without a clue or trace. And even some fringe groups committed mass suicide to avoid capture by the Mashrami.
Every alarm of Mashrami attack had been false. That at least had been proven, but too late for some people.
Arin and Trinia Cain, Dan and Don Piller and Lissy Bolan all agreed with Bain's theory of someone trying to drive a wedge between Gemar and the Commonwealth. That someone had to be the Conclave, still trying to coerce or trick or frighten Gemar into renewing the alliance. But how could a handful of young Spacers, the seeds of the Scout Corps, prove it?
Bain sent out his Scouts with new assignments: find out who was most vocal about Gemar leaving the Commonwealth, find their power connections, their activities in the last few years, and find out where Marlin Feris had been in the last fifteen years. Most important, find out if Feris had worked for anyone even remotely connected to the Conclave.
* * * *
That evening, Lin and Bain went to the Estal'es'cai with Herin and Rhiann. The ship left orbit and traveled toward the inner planet, between Gemar and the system's sun. Herin's first duty as captain of the Leaper ship was to officiate at her mother's funeral service.
Leaper tradition was to cremate their crew and release the ashes into space where they could be drawn by solar winds either into the system's sun, or spread through space.
Herin stood at the head of a double row of the entire crew, everyone dressed in glossy black uniforms, standing at razor's edge attention. Her father stood at her right hand, her sister at her left. Lin and Bain stood next to Rhiann.
“Our dream, our goal, our reason for survival, was to return to the universe where our people began,” Herin said. As she spoke, a humming sound filled the long, dull silver room.
A square panel opened in the wall behind Herin. She went to one knee, carefully lifted out a domed canister of black and silver, and stood.
“My mother, our captain, Lorian K'Veer, lived the dream of all our people. She led us here to the home of our race. She built the bridge of peace between Leapers and the people of the Commonwealth. She died knowing she had done a good and great thing. She died knowing her ship and her crew would be taken care of, because she trained me to think and to feel and to act as she did.” Herin paused, swallowing hard. “I swear before this crew and before my own family and Fi'in, I will not let my mother's hard work be lost or her dream destroyed.” She turned to Lin as she spoke. “There will be peace between Leapers and Commonwealth, and no one shall destroy it, and we will stay here in the universe of our ancestors."
Bain felt his heart skip several beats. If the Conclave had indeed murdered Captain Lorian to drive the Leapers out of the Commonwealth's universe, how could Herin break the law of the Leaper sisterhood to stay?
He didn't hear the rest of her words, the ritual words of peace and comfort and faith. Bain watched as Herin put the canister containing her mother's ashes into the opening in the wall. The panel slid closed. The humming sound grew louder. Then it stopped with a soft sound like a sigh, as if Captain K'Veer's ashes brushed across the ship as they swirled out through space and the ship responded in farewell.
Then the ceremony was over. Bain tried to think of something to say. All he could do was take Rhiann's hand between both of his and hold it tight. He hated the tears trying to escape her rigid control. He wanted to put his arms around her and let her cry, but Rhiann stood tall and straight and solemn and never showed her pain with even a single twitch of her lips.
“Captain Lin, could you stay?” Herin said, as everyone began to file from the room. She nodded to her father and sister, who stepped through the door and waited in the passageway.
“What is it?” Lin rested a hand on Herin's shoulder and squeezed. “Whatever you need, just ask."
“I've been contacted by a committee of ten Conclave representatives. They want me to reconsider Mother's decision not to sign a
n exclusive contract. They say that this attack is a sign that the Commonwealth is falling apart and can't protect its own."
“Why would they say that, if they were trying to keep you from allying with anyone?"
“That's what I thought. They obviously consider my mother's death an accident."
“Unless they did it to get her out of the way, and hoped you would think differently,” Bain offered.
“Unfortunately, that makes sense, too,” Lin said. “What did you tell them?"
“I want to know the truth, so I told them I couldn't make any decisions until the month of mourning was over.” Herin shrugged. “They caught me off guard. It was the best excuse I could give."
“It sounds plausible to me.” Lin gave Herin a little shake before releasing her. “You're doing just fine."
“What is it?” Bain whispered to Rhiann, who frowned at her sister's words.
“There is no such thing as a month of mourning,” Rhiann responded. “Herin, what are you doing?"
“It's called playing for time,” Lin said. “Your sister made the right move. We need time, and we need to put as much pressure on both sides of this conflict, to get the right answers. Will you let me try something, Herin?"
“Whatever you decide, I'll trust you,” Herin said. “This all meant too much to Mother to let anything or anyone drive us from this universe."
* * * *
The next morning, Lin rose early and went to the Commonwealth Council offices in the center of the port city. When she returned, she had two scarlet and black-uniformed guards in tow and wore the starburst silver badge of a Council-appointed tribunal. Now Lin had the authority to investigate the attack on the spaceport building and any situation or event that might be related. She had the right to ask questions of anyone on the planet and request military aid if the answers were refused or slow in coming.
Gemar [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 9] Page 4
