The Ship Who Sang

by Anne McCaffrey

  Niall regarded her sardonically for a moment. ‘You yourself made the point that Ansra Colmer, a true egocentric, singleminded, stubborn, and pragmatic as hell, suffered the least personality trauma from the phenomena of the Corviki transfer. Teron was so well endowed with the same sterling attributes that it was obvious he’d . . .’

  ‘. . . Not last a minute as a personality on Beta Corvi, and you know it, Niall Parollan. That man was incapable of coping with such anomalies.’ Parollan’s tactics infuriated her. Why, what he had suggested was nothing short of bald murder. And he’d talked Railly into the scheme? Had they both wanted to get rid of Teron?

  ‘Now, really, Helva,’ Railly said, stepping forward as if separating two antagonists, ‘I was never in favor of Teron as your brawn, if you’ll forgive the reminder . . .’

  ‘You were right, Chief,’ Helva said in so sweet and contrite a tone that Parollan snorted his disgust.

  ‘. . . And sorry to be, I assure you. However, no harm appears to have resulted.’

  ‘Except that Helva’s now a free agent,’ Parollan said in a completely expressionless voice.

  ‘Exactly,’ Railly continued with unexpected enthusiasm. ‘And, unless Helva has other plans in mind, perhaps we all can make her see the advantage of undertaking this new mission in spite of her changed status.’

  There was an odd half-smile on Parollan’s face as he returned his Chiefs intense stare.

  ‘Yes, perhaps we can,’ the Supervisor said with a hearty lack of enthusiasm.

  Helva saw Dobrinon give him a quizzical look and Breslaw was plainly startled. Something was going amiss with their sales pitch?

  ‘Well then, Helva,’ Railly started off determinedly, ‘have you any plans in mind?’

  ‘She’s had no time to advertise,’ Niall said abruptly. ‘She made no planetary calls on the return trip here. And I doubt that even the most assiduous of our known informers has had time to discover that the XH-834 has Paid-off. It so rarely occurs this early in service.’

  ‘I’ll answer for myself, thank you, Parollan.’

  The others were staring at their colleague with blank astonishment. The atmosphere in the cabin had become strained. Helva was at a loss to figure out why Parollan was deliberately disrupting the mood Railly was attempting to create. Trust him to have an ulterior motive – but what?

  ‘So my enterprising supervisor planned to have me go back to Beta Corvi? That somewhat explains Admiral Dobrinon’s presence. And you, Commander Breslaw? Or is Engineering bidding against Xeno for my services?’

  ‘We were hoping to combine forces, Helva,’ Dobrinon answered after an uncomfortable pause.

  Someone has missed his cue, Helva thought.

  ‘It seemed appropriate,’ Breslaw said, breaking his silence, ‘that you should be the first ship to benefit from the discoveries resulting from the Beta Corvi data you brought back.’

  If Engineering had used the stabilizing key for unstable isotopes . . .

  ‘Just how would I have benefited?’ Helva asked casually. She kept one eye on Parollan. He was adept at titillation. She wouldn’t put it past him to have staged this whole thing, including his own apparent disinterest, to arouse her to indiscretion. Of course, she’d want an improved f.t.l. drive!

  ‘When we began to study the basic theories,’ Breslaw was saying, ‘we could see an immediate application to our present f.t.l. system. You’re surely aware, Helva, that the potential of the f.t.l. principle is vastly beyond present performance. The problem has been an energy source that could tolerate the demands full f.t.l. speed requires. The Corviki data makes intergalactic travel possible in this decade. This year!’

  Intergalactic travel? Helva’s excitement matched Breslaw’s. Between which galaxies? This one and . . . the Horsehead Nebula?

  ‘Yes, intergalactic distances traversed in a fraction of present estimates,’ Railly said, as if he sensed they had her attention. ‘Imagine it, Helva, unlimited power, literally inexhaustible power, to take you to the edge of the galaxies visible from the rim of the Milky Way. Beyond any space now known to man.’ Railly spoke urgently, firing her desire. ‘Power to make those f.t.l. drive components work efficiently for the first time since they were designed. All we’ve lacked has been a constant fuel source to stand up to the drain of energy required. And you’ve the chance to explore unknown space. You can chart new star systems, open up whole galaxies for Central Worlds.’

  That reminder brought her out of those stars.

  ‘Interesting. Very interesting. The f.t.l. always has been a case of having a good cart and no draft animal strong enough. However, if this radical new development stemmed from the Corviki data, why is another mission necessary?’

  Railly gestured to Breslaw, who began whipping out cubegraphs and computer tapes, which he arranged nervously on her console.

  ‘With the Corviki data for stabilizing unstable isotopes, we were able to make use of that form of waste energy, not just for the fractional seconds of half-life before the AMUs deteriorated, but for as long as that power was needed. Imagine it, Helva,’ said Breslaw, eyes glowing with wonder, ‘the power of an exploding star, always equal to that of the exploding star at its highest energy level.’

  The cabin seemed to darken at his words. It was an exploding star – operating at its highest energy level – Ravel’s sun, that had burned Jennan to death as she had frantically tried to outrun its fantastic energy but to have such a power . . . enslaved to her requirements?

  She had to have it. An inner nova to expiate the crime of the outer. Hammuraban justice at its purest! She forced herself to listen to Breslaw’s explanations.

  ‘Admittedly, Helva, there are tremendous subtleties involved which, I readily confess, no one in my team is scientifically sophisticated enough to appreciate. It’s almost as if the Corvi were discussing personal intimacies rather than sub-particular facts, but the result is a fantastic discipline of nucleonic forces.

  ‘As you’ll notice, Helva,’ and he pointed to the first cube and tapped the equations into the ship’s computer, ‘the isotopes are permitted to radiate energy in cycles, but instead of a decrease in the energy available as deterioration occurs, the energy level remains constant. By varying the number of cycles initiated per second, or millisecond for that matter,’ and Breslaw beamed with paternal fondness for the abilities of his development, ‘the f.t.l. drive receives the power it requires to exceed the speed of light by any multiple required. To traverse a given distance, in a given length of time, the original f.t.l. equations supply the rate of cycle variation needed!’

  With an unexpectedly dramatic flourish for such a pragmatic man, Breslaw tapped out a set of voyage requirements.

  ‘If you have to get to, say, Mirfak, in 2 standard days, you can, now. Instead of taking . . . oh, how long?’

  ‘Four weeks.’ Helva supplied the answer absently, more intent on following the print-in of the profoundly interesting equations.

  ‘Four weeks then. Well, you can see the advantages.’

  And then Helva understood what necessitated the new mission to Beta Corvi.

  ‘One would scarcely try to release that kind of energy within a solar system without knowing the subjective and objective effects. What disadvantages have you observed?’ she asked. ‘Are these computations based on experiment, or sheer theory?’

  Doubt and concern dampened Breslaw’s ardor. ‘We have tested the CV energy source, Cycle Variant. We took every possible precaution, used a very slow cyclage rate. It was impossible,’ he said, grimacing, ‘to keep the experimental vessel in range of the testing instrumentation . . .’

  ‘The vehicle was manned, or BB?’

  ‘Manned.’ Breslaw’s answer was just audible.

  ‘The effect of such acceleration on the personnel was fatal?’

  ‘Not that we know of.’ Breslaw glanced sharply at Railly, who had been talking in a low voice to Parollan. Before Helva could turn up her audio, the two separated, Railly joining Do
brinon on the couch, leaving Parollan alone, opposite them. Niall’s face was inscrutably polite, his eyes guarded.

  ‘Well, why don’t you know?’

  ‘The vessel has not returned. The estimated time of arrival is 9 years standard. It has been sighted returning on normal drive. Their last intercepted communication indicated we must proceed with immense caution in the use of this power source.’

  ‘Evidently. I’d also hazard a heavy hand was on the CV switch to get that far out of com range. You should have used a BB ship with no fragile brawns to clutter up the test run.’

  ‘There was also a suggestion that we may have misused the Beta Corvi data,’ Breslaw went on, nodding thoughtfully at her observation. ‘You can easily extrapolate the destructive potential of the CV factor. We must be sure we have not perverted the data and unleashed uncontrollable or unstable emissions that might have cosmic repercussions.’ Breslaw looked toward her, worried and hopeful.

  That could be some pile to put rods in, Helva mused, although she hoped they wouldn’t have to damp that reactor. Intergalactic travel! The test ship flung 9 years away from known space!

  ‘First, I am gratified by the confidence you have in me, gentlemen,’ she said after a long moment. ‘However, I cannot help wondering if you selected me because, being Paid-off – in theory, that is – I am therefore most expendable, constituting no embarrassing debit loss on the fiscal records.’

  Only Parollan appreciated her levity and he laughed with uninhibited delight.

  ‘Your facetious attitude is ill-timed, Helva,’ Railly remonstrated. ‘You are the least expendable of our ship personnel. I fail to see, Parollan, the humor in such an outrageous suggestion.’ There was no mistaking the anger behind his reprimand.

  ‘In that case,’ Helva said, ‘you’re a low species of extortionist.’

  ‘What?’ Railly bellowed, diverted from Niall.

  ‘You know perfectly well, Chief Railly, that I’d want to possess such a drive once I knew of its existence. I’d certainly want to remain in Central Worlds Service to get it!’

  Parollan sobered instantly, staring at her.

  ‘That’s the game isn’t it?’ Helva demanded, her voice cold because she was talking to Parollan and he knew it now. He kept staring at her, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

  ‘Frankly, yes,’ Railly answered when it was obvious Parollan would not. ‘And there’s not much time for you to decide.’

  ‘How so?’

  Some subtle change in Railly’s face roused her to a bitter anger. So this was how Central Worlds treated their BB ships. She should have called in Double M and SPRIM. She should have got in touch with Broley. Let Central Worlds fight its own fires.

  ‘Central Worlds is bound by Federation directives, Helva, directives controlled and promulgated by the peoples of the civilized galaxy. There is no latitude on some of those strictures. You are under your original obligation to Central Worlds until those additional bonuses come through from Federation. After that, an entirely different set of directives controls the kind of authority, the type of contract, the wording and restrictions of the clauses, the payments and prerogatives of any further dealings we have with a BB ship. If we operated any other way, Helva,’ Railly went on implacably, ‘we would have the humanities’ guardians scanning our tapes, sitting on our shoulders, hindering our operations. You have proved to be an extremely capable contractee. The Service needs you. Our need has, so far, been to your benefit. You have been given extraordinary opportunities to achieve Pay-off early in your career. We felt you might consider that at this time, when we are offering you the chance to be the first BB ship with a fully realized f.t.l. drive.’

  ‘If apologies are in order, kindly accept them. I did not realize that contract terms changed after Pay-off was achieved. However, you can scarcely blame me for wanting to understand all the factors involved in what was only to be a discussion, pending confirmation of those rewards.

  ‘Inherent in Commander Breslaw’s explanation is the possibility that I could blow myself into a nova . . .’

  ‘I protest,’ Breslaw jumped to his feet. ‘You can see that the theory is valid! It has been tested . . .’

  ‘And scared you into taking the precaution of checking against perversion of data. I like my skin, gentlemen. I prefer it in one piece.’

  ‘Your shell is solid titanium,’ Breslaw said heatedly, ‘impervious to . . .’

  ‘The full power of an exploding sun in my guts?’ Helva snapped. ‘I’ve already suffered from the heat of a nova, Breslaw. And this solid titanium shell of mine has proved to be no sanctuary against injury . . . and the perversions of man.’

  Breslaw sank to the couch, utterly deflated. Of the others, only Parollan suffered neither embarassment nor chagrin. He had jerked his head toward her column, at her rebuttal. His lips were set in too bitter a line even for the cynical supervisor. For a moment, his eyes were unguarded, reflecting a physical pain and an expression Helva had seen once before – in the eyes of a dying man.

  It was he who broke the silence, speaking in a heavy, tired voice.

  ‘There’s been no attempt to mask the danger involved, Helva. And we’ve tried to make an unwieldy forest of restrictions work for you. It would be more advantageous for you to extend the original contract than to enter a completely new one. You can check your files on that if you doubt me. We can amend some of the old clauses. We cannot change any of the new. Now have the courtesy to hear us out and then a simple yes or no is all that’s required.’

  He sounded indifferent to that decision now, and she couldn’t understand why.

  Dobrinon cleared his throat and walked slowly toward her column as if gathering his disrupted thoughts.

  ‘The projected mission to Beta Corvi had multiple purposes, Helva, every one needing abilities, talents, and background that pointed inexorably to you. I’ll explain those that relate to my sphere of activity.

  ‘I believe we could condition future observers to withstand the psychological disorientation of Corviki transfers, if we had some idea of the change taking place in the human psyche that has been retained in the Corviki entity. Yes, this is asking for a double portion of your soul’s flesh, Helva, but I have an altruistic reason for asking you to return there. Parollan and I are both positive that if you could return and reassure yourself as to the integration . . . or disintegration, of the personalities of Solar Prane, Kurla Ster, Chadress and Ansra Colmer in their Corviki environment, you might be able to resolve the sense of guilt and failure that resulted from the outcome of the first mission.

  ‘You are the best qualified, if not the only person capable of recognizing the immigrants.’ Dobrinon gave a faint smile at his description. It was apt, Helva thought, trying not to admit how the notion of a return scared – and tempted – her. ‘Now, Davo Fillanaser has volunteered to return. But, frankly, his psyche profile indicates a deep trauma. I suspect that he would . . . ah, immigrate, too.’

  ‘Very unsettling, I assure you,’ Helva said. She didn’t like the mental picture of Davo Fillanaser’s body stretched out, uninhabited, on a couch. But, if Prane and Kurla and Chadress were content as Corviki . . . Helva forced her mind away. ‘Well, it’s obvious we are going to need Corviki help if we are to play with their toys without damaging the entire galaxy. I assume my psyche profile was run through and you feel you can trust me to return?’

  ‘Yes.’ Dobrinon’s answer was prompt and firm.

  ‘Even after the Borealis sense-deprivation?’

  ‘I’d hazard the guess that the Corviki experience helped you during that episode.’

  ‘Shrewd of you, Dobrinon. We are all, are we not, the sum of our experiences. Which brings me to a sordid subject. I assume, Admiral Breslaw, that the CV factor will be installed in my drive chambers before I undertake a return to Beta Corvi?’

  ‘Yes, that would be a necessity. How else could they assess our application of their data?’

  ‘And the cost of such an installa
tion?’

  Breslaw glanced nervously at Railly. The Chief inclined his head. ‘We can’t determine the exact cost: the experimental vessel was rebuilt several times. Shielding is reinforced: structural members doubled, a new alloy on the hull. Well, I’d estimate in the neighborhood of 500,000 galactic credits.’

  He had the grace to look appalled, Helva noticed, although the staggering cost left her relatively unmoved. After all, she’d paid off more than that already.

  ‘That would be if I contracted immediately?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And about twice that if the old contract lapsed?’

  ‘I expect so.’ Breslaw closed his folders disconsolately as if he had now abandoned all hope of this project. This kind of pessimism irritated Helva immeasurably.

  ‘However, Helva, if you extend the old contract, we are in a position to flex any conditions that bind a person of your proved abilities,’ Railly said smoothly.

  ‘Don’t pressure me, Railly. I haven’t considered all the angles from my point of view.’

  That was not true. She had made up her mind. She’d make Railly flex those conditions that bound a person of her proved ability until SPRIM and Double M could hear regulations cracking.

  Parollan had certainly cooked up a real tight orbit for her. And she’d bet her next bonus that he knew exactly what effect Breslaw’s description of that power source would have on her. He didn’t miss a trick, that one. He’d’ve seen the justice of enslaving a nova to her bidding after what Ravel’s sun had done to Jennan. And he certainly had pointed out that guilt-resolution gimmick to Dobrinon. Well, she’d show this egotistical, self-assured, domineering, machiavellian refugee from a heavy-world . . . Helva brought her polemic to an abrupt halt. And stared down at Parollan.

  His face was drawn into dark lines of strain and exhaustion. There was no trace in the slumped shoulders of the arrogant manipulator who called her bluff by being ready to walk out before he’d even started. There was no malicious gleam in the back of the unguarded eyes apathetically turned on her column. He must know he’d won! And, sure of her interest, was he regretting his machinations? He certainly looked as if he regretted something from somewhere in his ill-starred past.