Valerena watched briefly. She saw no evidence that XII Fulminata was beaten, awaiting a coup de grace.

  She summoned her Others. “This isn’t shaping up good. He wants to fight even if he gets the chance to run. Ready the Voyager. I’ll join you in a few minutes. We’ll pretend to be a rider moving out to attack XII Fulminata’s wounded side. When we’re over there, we’ll run for it. Get going. Casual.”

  She watched XXVIII Fretensis and IV Trajana on a split screen. Half showed what actually could be seen, which lagged reality by the time it took light to bridge the intervening gap. The other half presented Adjutrix’s estimate of what the Guardships were doing in realtime.

  They were coming up on turnover, where they would begin deceleration and launch secondaries.

  They began decelerating.

  Moments later, observation proved estimation incorrect.

  Both had begun deceleration, but XXVIII Fretensis was pulling ahead of IV Trajana, as though planning a high velocity firing pass.

  Something was wrong. Bad wrong.

  Valerena began walking, betraying no emotion. But she did not sustain that false calm long. She ran.

  Her run ended within sight of the Voyager lock.

  Tawn stepped into her path. “Why are you trying to leave me, my love?”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  “They are the ones who will be destroyed. Come.” He grabbed her wrist. She could not break his hold. “You were going to your homeworld? Yes. I see. We will go there when I finish this. I will need refitting again.”

  She tried to hang back. He dragged her. “For you I turned upon my own. Though it takes them a thousand centuries, they will hunt me down. They will hate me more than any mortal foe.” More gently, “I have abandoned immortality for you, Valerena Tregesser. You will spend the rest of your life with me, be that ten minutes or ten thousand years.”

  Insane. Raving insane.

  He began laughing as they approached the big hall. She had not heard him laugh before. It recalled Simon’s crazy laughter. He said, “Fulminata is dead. Shells reached the Core.”

  He dragged her into the hall.

  XII Fulminata did not look dead on screen. Erratic, yes, but still very much in action.

  Did Guardships have reflexes, like killed animals?

  XXVIII Fretensis and IV Trajana were sufficiently close that the split screen went to one view. XXVIII Fretensis was not leading the charge now. IV Trajana had pulled ahead. Neither should be able to slow enough to engage.

  There was something bad wrong.

  IV Trajana began accelerating.

  Valerena saw it coming but did not believe it. Not till Tawn came, eyes moist, sorrowful. “I was wrong, my love. You were right. I’m sorry. Hold me. Please?” And a moment later, “We had so little time.”

  IV Trajana rammed VI Adjutrix at sixteen kilometers per second, flinging VI Adjutrix back into the remains of XII Fulminata. Three Guardships perished in a nova of violence.

  So much did they hate and fear one of their own gone rogue.

  XXVIII Fretensis slid by and clambered onto the Web, headed for Starbase with all the information VI Adjutrix had transmitted during its final seconds. VI Adjutrix had not turned on the fleet out of hatred and did not leave that final duty unfulfilled, though the fleet was casting it into oblivion.

  Not a word about its lover did it betray, though.

  Seconds before impact, the Valerena Others gave up waiting and flung their Voyager out of its rider bay. Gas and debris buffeted the vessel, tossed it about. They regained control and limped away, climbed onto the Web only minutes behind XX VIII Fretensis.

  A debate began. They did not want to die. But their Prime was gone. Their lives might be forfeit. Yet they were Valerena Tregesser genetically and by conditioning. They had her sense of obligation to the House. And the House could not be kept ignorant of this disaster.

  — 89 —

  The survivors among those who decided on the gas giant did not understand what had happened. They did see that the siege had lapsed and that three Guardships had perished. There might be fragments that would yield Guardship secrets.

  Their world had been devastated. They could not investigate themselves.

  They took hold of the Web and sent word vibrating across the strands of that otherspace.

  — 90 —

  Lupo glanced from the woman to Two and back. “Lieutenant, you’re the most singleminded woman I’ve encountered since last I saw my mother.”

  “You’ve stalled me five days. I’m out of patience. Deliver those people.”

  It would be amusing if she was not so serious. “And if I can’t?”

  “I’ll take them into custody myself. Using whatever force is necessary.”

  “Just four of you. I admire your confidence.”

  “Are you a moron, Provik?”

  “I try not to be. Why?”

  “There are four of us here. There are thirty-two Guardships out there.”

  “And you wonder why we love you.” Lupo glanced at Two. She nodded. She, too, thought the woman serious.

  “Lieutenant, I don’t have those people. I doubt they exist. You won’t believe me, so you’re welcome to look to your little stone heart’s content. As for Blessed Tregesser, Cable Shike, and Nyo Bofoku, the Chair says go screw yourself. Bring in thirty-two thousand Guardships.”

  That startled her. Then she shrugged. “They’re of no consequence. You have till sixteen hundred hours to produce the aliens and the artifact.” She walked out even though she needed a guide to get out of his office alive.

  Lupo said, “That woman has balls that drag on the floor.”

  “She raised the stakes as high as they get.”

  “If we don’t give in, we get wiped out. If we do, we get it anyway.”

  “So?”

  “We’ve got nothing to lose. They’ve made their plan?”

  “Yes. Shoot out the gravs on the north and east side of the High City so it’ll crash into the Pylon. A diversion to cover them heading out. Where they’ll go I don’t know, and neither do they. The only one of them who gives a damn about staying alive is their alien.”

  “They’re not putting that on? They don’t suspect we see and hear everything?”

  “They debug. But they don’t have the technical sophistication to suspect beatup, standard bureaucratic wall paint.”

  “I’ll bet they aren’t gaming us. Get the family in here. And all the tapes. We’ve got six hours to fix this.”

  Jo started awake when AnyKaat touched her shoulder. “What?”

  “Your Haget act worked. That Provik’s assistant called. They’ve found our creatures. They’ll deliver as ordered, except Amber Soul. They claim she can’t be moved. Medical reasons. They’re willing to prove it.”

  “You buy it?”

  “Seeker does. He says she’s been over the edge for three days. The only way these people would be able to cope would be to confine her. He wants to go.”

  “All right. Will you take him?”

  “I figured it would be me.”

  “It’s in your hands, Kez Maefele,” Blessed said. “Make a commitment, one way or another. No more pretense.”

  He had not been fooling anyone. He glanced at the plain, impassive Mr. Provik, whose plain snare off that tag end had dealt the Guardships their worst hurt of the millennium. A master of improvisation.

  Turtle saw the shadowed, twisted shape the thing would have to take. “Innocents will perish.”

  “Either way. For House Tregesser there’s no choice. Who dies and where are all we can influence. We won’t accept destruction stoically.”

  “I understand that. I realize you won’t turn Lady Midnight over, especially since these people don’t know her. I realize that if I don’t agree, you will isolate me and allow one of my more fanatic brethren to assume my identity.”

  “I’d rather do that anyway. I don’t want to risk you.”

  “I also see th
at this would not be possible were it not for Amber Soul’s crisis.”

  “We still need to know where you stand.”

  “Blessed offered me supreme command. That is my price.”

  Provik exchanged glances with Blessed.

  “A genuine commission, Mr. Provik. Not ‘Let’s tell the alien what he wants to hear.’ The alien is a dangerous beast.”

  “Give him what he wants,” Blessed said. “The campaign — if there ever is one — will have to be carried out by Outsiders. They’d respond to a Ku better than they would to us.”

  Provik nodded. “But I can only speak for me, not for the Chair.”

  “You can’t make Mother do whatever you want? Hell. If she gets stubborn, tell her I’ll guarantee her freedom from worry about keeping the Chair.”

  Provik frowned.

  “I’m eighteen. I’m not ready. I don’t even want it right now. So what do I lose?”

  “Not much. Kez Maefele. Where do you stand?”

  “Committed till you cause the sword to turn in your hand. You must leave soon. I would like to ride with you and suggest some less bloody way of terminating your risk.”

  Provik nodded.

  Jo did not like it. They were too cooperative. Either they were up to something or they had no idea of the Ku’s value. In which case they were wondering why she was so determined to get him.

  Damn it all! She was a soldier. She was not cut out for intrigue.

  And that damned Seeker! He had to go complicate it by flat refusing to move his Lost Child for four months. She could not hang around here. WarAvocat needed to know what she had learned.

  AnyKaat came in looking exhausted.

  Jo said, “They’ll be here soon. Anything I ought to know?”

  “The Lost Child looked as bad as Seeker said. He said to tell you his people will remain friends of the Guardship fleet.”

  “What about the other two?”

  “They got into a flitter with Provik. They left before I did. The story around the place — you got to see it to believe it, Jo — is that Blessed Tregesser is foaming at the mouth. He’s so obsessed with the artifact he would’ve shot it out with Provik’s security people if his mother hadn’t intervened.”

  “What about the Ku?”

  “What about him?”

  “How did they act about him going?”

  “Indifferent. He worked as a bodyguard. Staffers I talked to said the only reason the aliens were around was because they came with the artifact.”

  It fit. WarAvocat had talked about the danger of the Ku, but it was the artifact he wanted back.

  Hoke stuck his head inside. “They’re here.”

  Provik and his assistant were waiting with the Ku and artifact when Jo stepped outside. Provik looked irked. Always before he had been the soul of neutrality, if somewhat sarcastic. “Delivery as ordered,” he said. “Two free citizens of Canon. And may I express the Chair’s wish that you not grace Tregesser Prime with the honor of your presence any longer?” He climbed into his vehicle.

  Jo glared, exasperated.

  Provik’s companion said, “Lupo had orders to say that. I have mine to extend his apologies, insincere as they are.”

  Don’t let them bait you. “Apologies accepted.”

  “One thing. I know you people don’t inconvenience yourselves with the forms and practices of the law, but to threaten mayhem in order to compel us to permit the abduction of a halfwit pleasure artifact and a senile alien makes no sense. What the hell are you doing?”

  Jo glared. The woman was not intimidated. She smiled a thin smile. Jo said, “I am a Soldier.” If she did not understand that, tough. “You two. Come with me.” She beckoned the artifact and Ku.

  Inside, AnyKaat said, “They don’t like us much, do they?”

  Jo shrugged.

  “What now?”

  “Now we find out if they’re going to let us go.” And if WarAvocat’s emergency credit package was any good. She went to the comm and tried to make shuttle reservations. After several frustrating minutes she said, “AnyKaat, you try this. I’m either being jacked around or I don’t know what I’m doing.’”

  “Passage for seven, first available?”

  “Yes.”

  AnyKaat came up with the same thing she had.

  “They’re jacking us around.”

  A woman came on. “Are you having difficulty with your booking, ma’am?”

  “Yes,” AnyKaat said. She explained what she wanted. “The system keeps pushing us back to one a.m. tomorrow.”

  The young woman fiddled. “That’s correct. Nothing available sooner. Is it imperative you lift earlier?”

  “Yes!” Jo snapped.

  The woman fiddled, saying parties on a tight schedule should make return arrangements before leaving station. “I can get everyone off the ground by nine tonight if I distribute you...”

  “We go together,” Jo said.

  “Shall I transfer you to our charter department?”

  “I want you...”

  “Jo!” AnyKaat turned from the screen. “Some problems can’t be solved your way.”

  The woman asked, “Which Traveler are you booked out on? It might delay departure.”

  She became distinctly cool when she learned there was no such booking. AnyKaat covered the sound pickup. “We wouldn’t be safer on station than here, Jo.”

  “Are they messing with us?”

  “You’re not used to commercial travel.”

  “You deal with it.”

  “Do you want the charter?”

  “If there’s this much trouble getting off the ground, you’d better figure out what we have to do to get off station before anything else. Next month might be soon enough to go up.”

  AnyKaat thanked the woman, went to work trying to find passage to the Barbican. “Jo, here’s five possibles the next five days. No direct passage. Not unusual. We’ll have to change ships at least twice. Three times by the fastest combination.”

  Jo looked it over. The fastest way was the most convenient in relation to shuttle availability. “Book it.”

  “You realize there’s no guarantee we’ll get anything but lounge space on those next three ships? They can’t know we’re coming till we get there.”

  “I learned that much on the Cholot Traveler.” She checked her prizes. The Ku watched her impassively. The artifact huddled behind him. The Ku was a mean looking bastard. “Next time you run off, WarAvocat can find you himself.”

  The Ku seemed amused. “He will, I’m sure.”

  — 91 —

  Lupo grinned as the information came in. “We’ve got them. And all the investigators in the universe won’t find a thing because we haven’t done a thing. Lupo, sometimes you’re so clever you scare yourself.”

  “Don’t crow yet,” Two cautioned. “That woman may not understand the real universe, and she may not be a genius, but she’s stubborn. Don’t underestimate her.”

  “I won’t. Four. What were you so anxious to say a minute ago?”

  “Valerena’s Voyager broke off the Web. She wants to see you up there. She wouldn’t say why. She sounded scared. Station says she hasn’t asked for docking.”

  “Odd. Tell her I’ll be up soon. We have to go, anyway. See if Blessed has his people ready.”

  “They’re headed for the port. Ours are, too. We can lift whenever you get there.”

  One of the Valerena Others met Lupo at the lock. She led him to the operating bridge. Three more Valerenas there, exhausted from working ship. But no Valerena Prime. “What’s going on?”

  “Valerena is dead. We’ve brought back information on the circumstances. Our duty to the House. But we won’t dock without assurances for our safety.”

  “I couldn’t get rid of you if I wanted. The situation here requires a Valerena in charge. Blessed says he won’t take over before his thirty-eighth birthday. Guarantee me you won’t try something like the Simon Other did and you’ve got twenty years sure. Your nat
ural lives if you behave.”

  Lupo Provik’s word was good.

  “Let me see what you’ve got.”

  What Valerena had obtained impetuously she had squandered. That was a shot to the heart. That Guardship had become the core of his vision of the future.

  “Come see me when you get down. We’ll work out details. Right now I’m running an operation and can’t take time. Don’t tell anyone about this.”

  Lupo contacted One during the crossing to station, prepared him for the Valerenas and their bad news.

  Why go on? Nothing ever worked out.

  — 92 —

  The gates of the repair bay unfolded. “At last,” WarAvocat murmured. On the track of the villains at last.

  He thought of the artifact. She haunted him even now. First stop, M. Shrilica. Should have been something more from Haget. Long since.

  A Guardship broke off the Web. “WarAvocat. Signals from XXVIII Fretensis.”

  “Here it comes,” he murmured. The end of a quiet passage. Before it began.

  The air behind his shoulder whispered. Rogue. VI Adjutrix. IV Trajana and XII Fulminata — again! — accepting destruction in order to take out the rogue and ensure XXVIII Fretensis’s escape into Canon space. VI Adjutrix’s final contrite act.

  OpsAvocat asked if there would be a change in plans.

  Of course. “After M. Shrilica, we’re headed Outside. There were riders that couldn’t be recovered.” He began reviewing the data in detail.

  M. Shrilica’s outworks had been destroyed. Only gutted shells of stations remained, and an old capsule from Haget’s Traveler that was useless. And, near breakaway point, there was the hulk of a ship unlike anything seen before.

  It took four days to extract a coherent story from survivors in Tregesser Xylag.

  Five ships had come. They had lain in wait for months. Someone had come, finally, had blown one of them away, and had fled before the others could close in. The survivors had destroyed the stations and gone in pursuit.

  “Haget,” WarAvocat told the Deified. “Who else would they be gunning for? He left no message capsule. Or it was destroyed. I have no idea why he didn’t run to the Barbican.”