But the other was even smaller than the first two. I spotted it mainly because a Protectorate ship—Pegasus-class, the same as Lanar’s—hovered close by. This last moon was the same reddish-orange colour, basking in the light from both the planet and the particle cloud. A double set of rings, offset perhaps forty-five degrees from one another, winked golden against the dark starfield behind it.
“That one,” Cerevare said with what might have been a sigh of happiness. “That one is the Chron moon.”
Chapter 9 – Luta
Of Unusual Moons
and Unexpected Visitors
“INCOMING MESSAGE,” BADEN said, skimming his fingers over the comm board. “Admiral Louis Woodroct, on board the Nearspace Protectorate Vessel O. Domtaw.” Baden turned in his chair and gave me a wink. “Sounds indignigi,” he whispered.
“Responding,” I said, and Baden nodded. “This is Captain Luta Paixon of the far trader Tane Ikai,” I said. “I believe you were expecting us, Admiralo.”
“Acknowledged,” the Admiral answered tersely. “Forgive me for getting right to the point, but weren’t you instructed to contact me before entering the wormhole from Delta Pavonis? We could have fired on you in error!”
I did a quick eye contact around the crew. “Yes, Admiral, and we did so.”
“Well, it didn’t come through here,” he said. I could tell from the tone of his voice that he didn’t believe me.
“Twice, in fact,” I continued. “We received no response, and only proceeded through because we were in danger of being discovered. Perhaps your comm officer didn’t notice the messages come in?”
“My comm officer is sitting three feet away from me, Captain Paixon, and there was nothing for her to notice.”
“I didn’t mean to imply any incompetence, Admiral,” I said mildly. “My communications officer will forward you the timestamp data.”
Baden nodded and punched commands into his console. I met Hirin’s gaze, and he pulled a face and waggled a finger to indicate the possibility that the Admiral was crazy. I fought down a giggle as the Admiral returned to the comm.
“I have your data, Captain. Did you experience anything unusual on the wormhole skip?”
“Affirmative, Admiral. Our scans picked up a bombardment of unidentified cosmic rays. They threatened to interfere with the skip drive, but it stayed stable enough for us to make the skip. We also noted grey striations inside the wormhole, similar, we think, to those found in the wormhole between Eta Cassiopeia and Tau Ceti systems.” I wasn’t above showing off a little. “Are either of those what you mean?”
There was silence from the other end of the comm. With a glance at me, Cerevare spoke up.
“This is Cerevare Brindlepaw, Admiral Woodroct,” she said. “I’d also be interested in the answer to Captain Paixon’s question. It might help me in my analysis of the artifact.”
“Your messages just came through now, Captain, a good five minutes after you sent them. And your timestamp data is off by the same amount. Perhaps we’ll discuss all of this in person. Is your ship damaged in any way from the skip?”
“Not to my knowledge, but I’ll have my engineer run a full scan and diagnostics shortly. I’ll advise you if he finds anything.”
“Very well. The other ship nearby is the Nearspace Protectorate Vessel R. Stillwell, under Commander Holly Ballenger. They’re patrolling nearby. I’ll send a shuttle for Sinjorino Brindlepaw whenever she’s ready. I invite you to join us for the briefing.”
I nodded, thinking that Lanar must have pulled some heavy strings to get me included in the invitation. I thought we’d do nothing but hang around until Cerevare decided whether she could be any help here, and if so, how long she would stay. “Thank you, Admiral. We’ll be in touch.”
“I’ve been running scans since we left the wormhole,” Yuskeya said. “There’s no trace of those rays now, and no indication where they would have come from in this system. And there’s something else that I don’t believe your brother mentioned to us, Captain.” She turned to me, eyes twinkling. “There’s another wormhole leading out of this system. The other Nearspace ship the Admiral mentioned? It’s not patrolling. It’s a Dragon-class ship, and it’s parked. Right beside that wormhole.”
“Huh,” Hirin grunted. “Dragon-class? That’s a real battleship. So chances are, they don’t know where that one goes.”
“Or they do, and it has them worried,” Yuskeya said.
Cerevare slipped out of the skimchair and stretched. “Captain, I’ll collect a few things from my quarters. Will you signal me when you’re ready to go?”
I nodded, and the historian left the bridge. “Okej, folks,” I said to the others. “I know you’re itching to do all sorts of scans and readings and who-knows-what-else with gadgets and programs that you’re not supposed to have and I don’t want to know about. Try to resist those urges for a little while, all right? This admiral’s already got his face in a knot, he’s worried about something, and I don’t want to annoy him further until he’s told me what he’s willing to share. Got it?”
Chagrin was evident on Yuskeya and Baden’s faces, and I could imagine Viss down in engineering, shaking his head.
Baden made one attempt to sway me. “Captain, aren’t you the least bit curious to know why our messages were delayed for so long?”
“And why our time-encoding is wrong?” Rei added. “Because that’s tied into the main shipsystem, so I don’t see how—”
“Of course I’m curious,” I interrupted. “And you’re all welcome to think of as many possible explanations as you can while I’m gone gathering information. As long as none of them involve doing anything that the Admiral or I would not approve of. Hirin, you have the chair.” I slid out of it. He kissed me, a quick peck on the cheek as I passed him.
“Good luck over there,” he said. “Charm the hell out of him.”
I rolled my eyes. Hirin has, I think, an exaggerated notion of my powers of persuasion. However, that’s an admirable quality in a husband. “I’ll do my best,” I promised, and went to change into a clean t-shirt.
MY BEST WASN’T getting me very far, I thought glumly about an hour later. Cerevare and I were in the Admiral’s situation room, having been plied with caff and some rather bland sugar cookies. We still didn’t know what scans, tests, or other procedures the Protectorate bright boys had already carried out on the moon, despite Cerevare’s polite interrogation of the Admiralo. He’d obviously invited us over here to find out more about us, rather than to give us any information.
“Let me put it this way,” the Admiral had said with extreme politeness. “What we do know about the operant moon—”
“Operant moon?” Cerevare interjected.
“That’s what the scientists are calling it, to distinguish it from the other natural or inert moons,” he explained. “What we do know, which I grant you isn’t much, is either classified, or I don’t want to influence Sinjorino Brindlepaw before she’s had a chance to make her own observations.”
Which was fine and made sense, but why had he made us come over here for it? I didn’t think any of us had really learned anything we hadn’t known before.
Finally, Cerevare asked, “When can I visit the operant moon itself?”
“Would you be willing to wait until tomorrow? There’s a team there now, carrying out some tests, and it will likely take the rest of the day. We’ve temporarily lost contact with them, and I may have to send a second ship down to investigate. I don’t want to risk a civilian down there until I’m sure it’s safe.”
Well, at least I knew what was making the Admiral so testy. “Do you think that something they did caused the phenomenon we noted coming through the wormhole?”
His face said he wished I hadn’t figured that out. “As I said, I’d rather not give Signorino Brindlepaw any preconceived notions,” he said smoothly. “We won’t know ourselves until we re-establish contact with them.”
Which erased any doubt that was exactly
what he thought.
“Very well,” Cerevare said with good grace. “You won’t mind, then, if I instruct Captain Paixon’s crew to run some tests and scans on my behalf?” He began to object, but she didn’t give him a chance. “Since they’ll be based on my own notions about the moon, the results will form the initial part of my assessment.”
“It depends,” he said. “There’s an awful lot about this thing we don’t know yet. What sort of data do you want?”
Cerevare shrugged elegantly. “Basic data: age, mass, composition. Nothing that would actually interfere with the moon. And I’m sure you’ve already done these sorts of things yourself.”
“Of course.” But he’d already refused to share the results with us, and he obviously didn’t want to lose face by changing his tune now. “That will be fine, I suppose. But Captain, you and your crew must respect the utmost secrecy of these results.”
I felt like the teacher had wagged his finger at me. “I’ve already been briefed on the nature of this mission by Admiralo Mahane, sir, you needn’t worry about that.” I stood. “Then we’ll hear from you tomorrow.”
He stood and extended a hand, which I shook. No hard feelings. “Yes. And thank you again for bringing Signorino Brindlepaw here.”
“It was my pleasure.”
We shuttled back to the Tane Ikai. Naturally the crew were more than helpful to Cerevare in performing the scans she requested, and if any other data-gathering gremlins hitched a ride on those scans, I didn’t know about it. I was in the galley having dinner with Hirin and complaining about how Protectorate officers so often annoyed the hell out of me, my own brother being only partially excepted. But that was only in-between bites of the delicious garlic noodle prizo Hirin had cooked for us.
So I didn’t know what was happening at first; I heard the shouts from the bridge, felt a rumble as the auxiliary drives came to life. Then Baden, on the ship’s comm.
“Captain! You’d better get out here!”
I didn’t even stop to think how many meals have been interrupted by something like that. We left everything on the table and Hirin and I sprinted down the corridor to the bridge.
“What—” I started, but they were ahead of me.
“Looks like we’ve got a visitor from Delta Pavonis,” Rei said, “and the Admiralo will no doubt be chewing you out before very long. See for yourself.”
She flashed an image up on the main screen and it didn’t take me more than three seconds to recognize the putative pirate who had apparently been dogging our heels since before we arrived at Mars.
“Damn that idioto! Why would he do something so stupid?”
“I think you’ve answered your own question, Captain,” Yuskeya said wryly. “He’s an idiot. My advice is to stay out of this until the Admiral calls you in.”
“PrimeCorp must be out of their minds, mucking around in Protectorate business,” I said. “They were reprimanded on Vele. You’d think they’d leave me alone for a little while.”
“Maybe now they have a grudge,” Hirin suggested. “They want to make a point.”
“But no-one else even knows they’re bothering me,” I protested. “Who does that send a message to?”
“You,” Viss suggested over the comm. “Looks like they’re not done with you yet, Captain.”
“Lucky me,” I muttered. “Well, I’m taking Yuskeya’s advice and keeping out of it. Finding the Protectorate here was probably more than they’d bargained for, so let’s enjoy the show.”
Baden flashed me a grin and gestured to the comm board. “Want to listen in on the conversation? Admiral Woodroct is giving him hell.”
“Stop that!” I ordered. “I know you’re a techdog and you love all this eavesdropping and stuff, but you’re going to get me in trouble. In more trouble.”
“They don’t even know I’m here,” he assured me. “It’s pickup only. You know damn well you’re itching to hear this.”
The pirate ship had quite obviously not expected to run through the wormhole and find not one, but two Protectorate ships in the immediate vicinity. However, the Protectorate was not in the best situation for dealing with interlopers, either. The Stillwell must have been reluctant to leave its post near the other wormhole, because it hadn’t moved. The Domtaw had other problems on its hands, if they were still incommunicado with the crew on the surface of the Chron moon.
“The Admiral’s bawling him out, but good,” Baden said. “Citing Protectorate regulations and making all kinds of threats. Already forbade him to re-enter the wormhole and told him he can’t stay here, either. The pirate told Woodroct he’s not in a position to enforce any of that, and—”
“Baden, I’m ordering you to—”
“Wait!” Baden swung around to face me, losing the impish grin he’d worn as he listened in and reported. “The pirate’s saying he has an important message for you. About your mother.”
“Mother?” Damne. “Get me a line to Admiral Woodroct. Preferably one the pirate can’t overhear, if that’s even possible.” Lanar would owe me big-time when this was over.
“Admiral?” I said, when Baden gave me the nod. “Admiral, this ship is known to me, I’m afraid. At least—well, let’s just say I’ve had encounters with it before. I have not had actual contact with anyone inside it and had hoped to avoid that. This is the ship I was afraid might be following us when we were waiting to make the skip into this system.”
He didn’t respond, so I went on. “It appears this person or persons must have tracked us through the wormhole, despite my best efforts to avoid that. For that, I apologize.”
The silence from the Domtaw stretched out. Then, “Captain Paixon, the individual in command of this interloper vessel, who has so far refused to identify himself, says he has a personal message for you regarding your mother. That he knows who you are and knew where to find you makes me inclined to believe that part of his story, although anything else he says is suspect. Frankly,” and I thought I heard the Admiral sigh, “I can’t do much to him at this point unless he poses an actual threat. I’m still trying to re-establish contact with our people on the moon. So if you want to talk to him, I won’t stop you. I’ll tell him to keep his distance from this moon and stay clear of the wormhole, and then forget about him for now if he follows those orders.”
“Fine with me,” I said, and at that moment I felt a little sorry for the Admiral. He was definitely having a bad day.
“Baden,” I said, “I’m going back down to the galley and try to finish my supper. If this guy contacts us, patch it through to me there. Don’t initiate contact—let him come to us. Rei, you have the chair.”
I didn’t leave Hirin in charge because I knew he’d want to come with me and honestly, I wanted him to. Whatever this pirate had to say to me concerning Mother, I didn’t want to be alone when I spoke to him.
And it wasn’t long before he sent a message. Audio only, with some kind of scrambling device hooked up to distort his voice.
“Captain Paixon?” it stuttered.
“That’s me,” I said. “You have something to tell me about my mother. And I know you’re working for PrimeCorp, so don’t try and hand me any merde about that. I’m only listening while you’re saying something that interests me.”
“Oh, this should interest you, Captain. It would be in your mother’s best interests if you could convince her to negotiate directly with PrimeCorp on the nanobioscavenger issue.”
The voice-camouflaging intrigued me. Why would they do that? Was it someone I knew?
“PrimeCorp is already on the Protectorate’s scans,” I said. “What happened on Vele proves that. I would think they’d have more important things on their minds after that.”
“Consider it a safety issue. Think about it; maybe PrimeCorp needs the information your mother has now, more desperately than ever.”
My throat felt tight. The words were so cold and matter-of-fact, especially spoken in that mechanical, inhuman voice. “And whose safety are we tal
king about?”
“Let’s just say that if certain information came into their hands via a different route—say, released onto the free nets—they might feel their position would be stronger if your mother were out of the equation altogether. You should suggest that to her the next time you see her.”
Without saying another word, I shut down the connection with shaking hands. PrimeCorp was openly threatening Mother! Did they plan to move against her if she released her data onto the open nets? Hirin came over and put his arms around me, and to my surprise it didn’t do the slightest bit of good.
“We can’t stay here and wait for Cerevare now,” I said, leaning my head against his chest. “I have to get to Kiando and warn Mother, and get a message to Lanar.”
“Agreed. But I thought the Protectorate was clamping down on PrimeCorp. Why would they risk something like this if they know they’re being watched? And they have to know you’ll go straight to Lanar with it.”
“They’re desperate? They’re bluffing? I don’t know. Maybe planning to deny the whole thing? This guy could be a scapegoat, like Dores Amadoro.” I picked up my half-eaten supper and tossed it into the recycler. Delicious or not, I’d lost my appetite.
“Or they’re setting a trap,” Hirin mused. “Frighten you into running straight to your mother, and then follow you. They might not actually be planning violence against her, but they still want to know where she is.”
That gave me a moment’s pause. I’d been worried that I’d already done that once. “Maybe I should tell Woodroct, see what he thinks. He’s Protectorate, after all—”
I didn’t get to finish, because once again Fate had other plans for me.
“Captain, a ship just came through the wormhole—not the one from Delta Pavonis this time. The one the other Protectorate ship is guarding,” Yuskeya said briskly.
“Kristos,” I swore. “I’m on my way.”
Nearspace Trilogy Page 37
