by Sharon Lee
No comm in Jump. No way to warn her ’til they broke out. No room for her to maneuver once they were out.
Maybe…
Maybe Jump hadn’t destabilized the pod so that it would blow the instant they hit real space. Maybe Jump had wiped its comps and it would be just so much inert junk coming out in their wake. That was possible, too.
But it wasn’t the way to bet.
And if they’d snatched her away from the directors only to have her ship breached by one of security’s mindless toys—
He took a breath.
“Don’t borrow trouble, Tolly Jones,” he muttered.
And that was when the countdown went to zeros and real space took shape around them.
* * * * *
Jump ended and several things happened, nearly at once.
First, the all-call.
“Haz! ’Ware! There’s—”
Tarigan sang out as she acquired the target.
The missile dropped and cleared.
Hazenthull slapped the meteor shields to max.
“—a bomb!”
The pod exploded.
II
On Admiral Bunter’s bridge, Tolly Jones outright laughed.
He laughed until tears came, and he lay limp in the pilot’s chair.
Soldier, you fool! he told himself. Haz can take care of herself just fine.
Mostly.
“Was Hazenthull’s action laughable, Mentor?”
Tolly pulled himself up straight, mopping at his face with his sleeve.
“Hazenthull’s actions were in every way estimable, and you could do worse than to keep that recording in active memory, so you can review it often.” he said.
“As to why I’m laughing—I’m laughing at myself, for thinking that only Tolly Jones knows how and what needs done in this universe.”
“I have a query from Tarigan on the quiet band, Pilot. Are we well and in good order?”
Tolly shook his head against the temptation to laugh again.
“I’m well. Let me be in good order, too, else she’ll worry. You’ll have to speak for your own self.”
“Yes,” said the Admiral.
“Query Tarigan,” Tolly said. “Pilot Berik-Jones’s greetings and is Pilot nor’Phelium available to the comm.”
“Yes,” the Admiral said and almost immediately spoke again, “Pilot nor’Phelium on comm for Pilot Berik-Jones.”
Tolly flipped the switch on the comm board.
“Haz—”
“Are you mad?”
Her question overrode his greeting. She sounded, he reflected, honestly curious.
“It’s hard to say, one way or t’other,” he answered truthfully. “Sanity isn’t particularly useful to the directors, so it’s not specified in the design. What is in the design is a strong need to be—and satisfaction from being—dominated, which I don’t seem to have. So, by the rules of my…birth culture, I guess you’d call it—yeah, I’m right off the scans.”
“Would this be the reason why you chose to place yourself in danger’s path, rather than flying to safety?” Voice still even; only wanting to know.
“If I may interrupt,” the Admiral said, doing just that. “That was a collaborative decision. Neither of us wished to see you taken by those who must be our enemies. Therefore, we came to your side.”
“You might have been killed. For no reason.”
That was starting to heat up a little. Tolly tipped his head, staring at the comm like he could see her through the speaker.
“Speaking solely for myself, knowing what I do about the directors and their methods—I couldn’t leave you to them, Haz—couldn’t.”
“My reasons were similar,” the Admiral said. “I am your friend, Pilot Haz. Friends assist each other—especially in peril. I know that you share this ethos, because you made the same choice yourself. If you had not understood that Tolly and I were in danger, you would not have left your own safety in order to assist us.”
A moment of startled silence was followed by a low, charming chuckle.
“It is an honor,” Haz said, “to share madness with such comrades.”
Tolly relaxed into the pilot’s chair, suddenly aware that he was smiling, wide and pleased.
Focus, Tolly Jones, he told himself, you can’t afford to get careless. Which was true enough, but he let the smile stay.
“Now that we have assisted each other to freedom,” she continued, “do you have a plan?”
Tolly leaned a little forward.
“Well, the Admiral and me, we’d decided it between us to make for Waymart. Easy for me to find somewhere else to be, it being a hub like it is. Good place to pick up crew, too, if a person was tending that way. Can’t speak for you, but it’s probable you’re wanted back at your duty.”
Packed word, duty. He’d said it soft, with no particular emphasis, but he did say it; now he waited for training to answer.
“You are correct that I have duty—orders—given me by the captain herself,” Haz said calmly. Tolly felt a sort of crimp in his chest; it might’ve been pity, for her being so easy to play.
Or it might’ve been guilt, for manipulating a woman who’d put her life between him and peril more than once.
A woman who loved him, damn the directors to the coldest, blackest—
“My orders are to remove you from any compromised position,” Haz continued. “Following that, I am to escort you to a stable situation. If no such situation can be found, I am to return with you to my captain.”
Different orders—unexpected orders, come to that—but duty was still in the game. He’d have to spin it careful…and make no mention of him being mad, bad, and dangerous to know. Haz’d already proved that meant nothing to her except that he needed extra looking out for…and he caught the idea that it would matter even less to Captain Miri Robertson, delmae of one of the most unpredictable kin groups known to Lyre.
“Like I said, from Waymart, I can pick my own route. Happens I can get to a secure situation easy, from there. Done it many times.”
That was true. What wasn’t true was the insinuation that it was long-term secure, but Haz didn’t need to know that. What Haz needed to know was that her orders had been honorably discharged, so she could return to her captain and the relative safety of—
“I will escort you to this secure situation,” Hazenthull said.
Tolly blinked.
“Not a good idea, Haz. Don’t wanna spook my friends who keep the place all right and tight.”
That was fabrication, but he said it just as easy and pleasant as if it was true.
“I must be able to assure my captain that your position is secure,” Haz said, veering toward stubborn.
Last thing he wanted was to push her any further in that direction. He’d seen Haz stubborn, and he’d acquired a respect.
Still, he needed her out of here, out of this, away from the directors. Safe, dammit, under the Dragon’s wing. Be sure Korval took care of its own, though there was the puzzle of why Hero Captain Robertson had taken the decision to include him in…
“Perhaps,” Admiral Bunter said, “there is a compromise position.”
Tolly held his breath. Let the boy talk, draw some of Haz’s fire, maybe. Give him time to think of a way to finesse—
Proximity alarm sounded.
Damn!
Tolly spun back to the board—and there she was, clean and trim and confident, immaculately maintained, the love of her crew expressed in every elegant line.
He sat back slowly, his eyes never leaving the screen. He’d known the risk when he’d suggested the coords. A safe place, he’d told the Admiral, and he hadn’t, exactly, lied. It was a safe place…for Admiral Bunter and for Haz.
The only one at risk here—
Was Tolly Jones.
“Message incoming,” the Admiral said.
“Put it on audio,” he said.
A moment later, a smooth contralto voice filled the bridge.
�
��This is Disian, out of Margate. Greetings to Admiral Bunter, and also to the ship Tarigan and her pilot.
“I have business with Tollance Berik-Jones. Please call him to comm.”
“Pilot?” said Admiral Bunter. “Is that ship—”
“She’s an AI, yes.”
“Does she mean you harm?”
“We were…out of Balance when we parted. She’ll want to put that right, now we’re met again. But listen, Admiral—you’re absolutely safe here; so is Tarigan and Haz. I owe her and I don’t intend to dispute anything she asks me to do. Transmit that to Haz, please.”
He reached to comm.
“Disian, it’s Tolly. I hope I find you well.”
She laughed, rich and sweet.
“But you didn’t find me, Mentor; I found you!”
“Fair enough,” he said, smiling in spite of himself. “What—”
“Ship Disian!” The all-call sliced across his voice. “This is Hazenthull nor’Phelium, pilot of Tarigan. Be aware that Tollance Berik-Jones is under my protection.”
There was silence for a long moment. Tolly could only believe that Disian was as gobsmacked as he was.
“Thank you, Pilot nor’Phelium; I am pleased to receive that information. Be aware in your turn that I intend Mentor Tolly no harm. A matter of Balance lies between us, and I have come to inform him of what must be done in order restore parity.”
“The imbalance was caused by my actions,” Tolly added, quick and firm. “I acknowledge it and stand ready to do whatever is required.”
He paused.
“Disian, is your crew with you?”
“They are at liberty. I informed my captain that I was going to visit an old friend.”
He nodded.
“I wonder if you have time to speak with Admiral Bunter here about your experiences with crew and working with humans.”
“I would be delighted. Admiral Bunter, do you desire crew?”
“Lady Disian, I am undecided. Humans are…fascinating, but…risky.”
Disian laughed again.
“They are all of that! Will you open a line? I am pleased to share my experience and to answer questions.”
“Thank you,” the Admiral said, sounding subdued. “Line open.”
“And accepted,” Disian answered and went on with no pause discernible to human senses. “Tolly Jones, will you hear what is required in order to Balance your debt and put us at peace again?”
“Yes.”
“You have heard of the Old One who survived the Great Migration, though taking dire wounds in transit?”
“I’ve heard of several down the years, but none that were ever backed up by coords, nor any other kind of evidence.”
“I have the coordinates for this Old One and also a name. It was, as I said, damaged in transit, and for many years it slept. After a time, its sleep became fitful and, in the way of such things, drew the attention of our dear Uncle. Those who listen have heard that he plans a restoration. It has not been heard that he has a mentor on his team.
“Certainly, he has not secured the assistance of the greatest mentor of our time. I, and others, believe that he requires no less, for this.”
“You want me to propose myself to the Uncle as mentor for this project?” he asked, thinking about the last time he and the Uncle’d been in the same place.
“I do not. In order to retire your debt, you will bring the Old One peaceably into this universe or, if that is not possible, release him to another with grace and mercy. As you are a master of detail, I do not presume to tell you how you will accomplish this.”
It was an impossible job, of course. Trying to slip through the Uncle’s security was likely to get him killed. But—an AI from the old universe? A Work, it would’ve been in the ancient classifications—born into a war that encompassed a universe. The literature was sparse—hints and allegations more than anything solid. You had to take it as a given that any thinking machine native to the old universe was a war machine, if not systemically inclined to eradicate anything inside its scans that wasn’t itself.
“Mentor?”
“The Uncle’s restoring it?” he said.
“It is in line with his known proclivities,” Disian pointed out.
“There’s that. Still, it’s—even for him—it’s…big. Risky. No, scratch that—it’s potentially inimical to life as we know it.”
“Agreed. That is why you are needed. Will you accept this work and bring us into Balance?”
Bring him into dead was more like it. And yet—he’d been trained as a mentor—no, he admitted to himself, it was worse than that.
He’d fought, finagled, and killed for his right to be himself, and when all the choices were his to make, what was he still?
A mentor.
This Work, now. Death-dealer though it undoubtedly was, it was going to be isolated, disoriented, scared—
It.
“You had a name, you said?”
“Mentor, I do; though we have not heard the Old One’s preferences if, indeed, it has one.
“The name though…”
Disian paused, like she was checking a file, which was just art, plain or fancy.
“The name,” she said, “is Tinsori Light.”
* * * * *
“Pilot nor’Phelium, this is Disian. May I speak with you confidentially?”
The rich voice came from Tarigan’s internal comm. Hazenthull nodded to herself.
“I would be pleased to speak with you, Disian, though I warn you that I will not relinquish my duty to Tolly Jones.”
“No, of course not. In fact, it is your obligation to protect Tolly Jones that I wished to discuss.”
“Very well.”
Hazenthull closed her eyes. The voice was beautiful, as was the ship in her main screens. This was no orphan born of necessity and cast off to die, but a pampered and beloved lady.
A beloved and deadly lady.
She would not, Hazenthull told herself, allow fair words to blind her to the fact that Disian was very well armed for a ship displaying pod mounts, and that her shielding capabilities would have done honor to a general’s flagship.
“Tolly Jones is needed to assist in the reawakening of a very old self-aware logic. It is reliably supposed that the Old One was swept into this universe in the wake of the Migration. The Uncle—you are aware of the Uncle?”
“From study, I understand him as a force underspace, a collector of oddities. His position with regard to the captain and the House I serve is neutral.”
“The oddities that the Uncle collects are often…dangerous. He has long been interested in the construction and preservation of independent self-aware logics. The Free Ships regard him with affection well mixed with wariness. He is very old and very learned. Often, his projects serve the common good, but that is not why he takes them up. It is the opinion of the Free Ships, and others of our kind, that, in this instance, the Uncle is tampering with something that…may be beyond him.”
“He needs Tolly Jones to mentor the Old One,” Hazenthull said, “and bring him into accord with the universe.”
There was a small pause, as if she had surprised Disian, then a small click—like the audible nod of an invisible head.
“You understand what the Free Ships understand, but which the Uncle has failed to grasp: It is imperative that Tolly Jones has access to the Old One before it is fully wakened. The Uncle’s security may need to be…convinced of this necessity.”
Hazenthull smiled, showing her teeth.
“I understand. I will see that Tolly Jones reaches his goal, and I will stand at his back while he does what is necessary.”
“Excellent. You relieve my mind. I am very glad that the mentor has your protection and your friendship, Pilot nor’Phelium. Despite the fact that we were not completely in Balance when we parted, I am fond of him.”
“Yes,” said Hazenthull. “I am fond of him, too.”
* * * * *
“I’ll do i
t,” Tolly said. “Understand, transport’s gonna to be an issue. Admiral Bunter’s had enough trouble, if he’ll excuse my saying so. I don’t want to put him at this kind of risk. Can you arrange to have transport waiting for me at Waymart? Doesn’t need to be one of the Free—in fact, I’d rather not. If Tinsori Light’s from the old universe, like you think, there’s no telling what kind of leakages we’ll get.”
“Transport has been arranged. Pilot nor’Phelium, under whose protection you are, has agreed to stand as pilot and security.”
“No,” he said flatly.
“She has been informed of the situation and has agreed to lend her aid. Will you take her free choice from her, Mentor?”
He opened his mouth to say the gods only knew what—and closed it.
Disian was right. Haz was a free intelligence, same as he’d killed to be.
“All right, transport on Tarigan with Haz. Agreed. Admiral Bunter…”
“Mentor, you may put any concern for me out of your mind,” the Admiral said. “I have accepted Lady Disian’s offer to escort me to Margate. I will meet her crew and her captain, and also, if I wish, the administrators of Margate Yards, and their liaison among the Carresens.”
“Gonna pick up crew, then?”
“I am intrigued by Lady Disian’s experiences. I would learn more, at first hand.”
“I’m glad you’re studying on it and keeping an open mind. Disian’ll take good care of you.”
“My word on it, Mentor,” Disian said. “I have shared coordinates and data pertinent to this project with Tarigan. Pilot nor’Phelium acknowledges receipt and states that she is ready to receive you at your convenience. I suggest that you transfer to Tarigan quickly. It has been heard that the Uncle’s project has become more widely known than he anticipated, and time may be short.”
“Got it.”
Tolly stood and bowed, to the boards and to the screens.
“Admiral Bunter, I’m proud of you and pleased in our acquaintance. Thank you for your trust and your assistance. I wish you a long, free life.”
“Tolly Jones, you have saved my life and made it immeasurably richer. You may call on me at need. I will hold my memories of you in active memory, and I will refer to them often.”
