Counter-Measures

  :'But we will be talking about water filters very soon. 'That is the point to keep in mind. " Kaylla slumped. "From here, Staffa, all I can tell you is that we need to have a system in place. The sooner, the better. "

  "What about Bruen's warnings? You've had time to think about them. Is he a crazy old man, or a prophet of our doom? "

  Kaylla shook her head slowly. "From here, let me tell you how I see it. Within another couple of weeks, the system will begin to fail. Deprivation will foment anger and fear on four or five worlds. Power failures will begin to plague the planetary systems. Blackouts will feed the panic. If just one critical industry is destroyed by a riot, the final card will have been played, Staffa.

  "What can I tell you? Only that my projections have a potential error of plus or minus fifteen percent. You might not have a week to make your decision in the first place, let alone integrate the Mag Comm into the subspace net-and mark my words, there will be teething problems as the machine interfaces with planetary comm. "

  Staffa's comm image steepled his fingers. "So, I could be acting on borrowed time as we speak?"

  "That is correct. We may have overlooked some critical factor in the statistical analysis. Maybe it's critical that building contractors can't find a square meter of graphite mesh on Formosa. We've discounted data like that in collapsing our categories. In a sense, the foundations for our statistical projections are hanging in midair. How much of a structure do you want to build on them?"

  "Give me a yes or no, Kaylla. What is your bottom line recommendation about the Mag Comm?"

  She closed her eyes, empty of all emotion. "The wonderful thing about being a slaveg Staffa, is that you always have hope. Dead is dead. I vote to

  -employ the machine-if it isn't already too late."

  "Thank you, Magister. " Staffa rapped a stylus on the console, just out of sight of the pickup. "I'll be in touch as soon as I talk to some of the others."

  Kaylla gave him a sympathetic nod. "By the way, I want you to know something -

  "

  His expression warmed appreciatively. "Yes, Magister?" "I'm glad you're making the final decision instead of me. "

  His smile faded. "Responsibility is the greatest curse any God ever laid upon us, Magister. May the quanta help us all if I fail. " He paused. "Thank you, Kaylla. Wish me luck. "

  The monitor went blank, and Kaylla bowed her head, trying to sort through the permutations of their position.

  "Good luck, Staffa." And for the first time, she actually thought he needed it.

  "Something's wrong," Ily noted from her seat at Victory's comm. The small bridge had two command chairs, as well as seats for a navigation-communications operator as well as an engineer, though, thanks to the sophisticated computers aboard, a single individual could space her quite satisfactorily.

  The bridge, though larger than that on Skyla Lyma's yacht, had a spartan look to it. Metal deck plates covered the floor, and equipment consoles had square corners instead of the sleek integral design of the custom yacht, and from the looks of things, instruments had been removed, then replaced with models of different design, the whole effect being somewhat jumbled.

  "What's wrong, Ily? Certainly not the ship, so far everything looks just fine."

  She had to stop using her thumbnail to tap at her teeth. Arta could read her actions too easily. "It's been too long. We should have heard from Rill.

  Something, anything."

  "Ily, aren't you making more of this than you should? He's an able administrator and is occupied a great deal of his time." Arta smiled, flashing straight white teeth. "And after last night, he's probably going to sleep for a week."

  "You did remarkably well, given your proclivities. Now that you've had a while to deal with it, how do you feel?" "Like going back and doing it all over again." Arta's

  eyes remained hidden by the worry-cap she wore. "And this time, when he finished ejaculating, I'd run a vibraknife up through the base of his brain."

  Ily sighed.

  Arta laughed. "But I did demonstrate admirable restraint, I must admit. I didn't even throw up on him." "He left wanting more. You excited him, Arta.

  What is

  it about you? You fascinate men. He couldn't keep his eyes off you-even when he was screwing you!"

  "He liked that, knowing that's when I normally kill men. I think it was better for him as a result. Why does that make it better for them, Ily? "

  "I don't know. Men are curious that way. They'd stick penises into light sockets if they thought they could get a better orgasm out of it without electrocuting themselves. " She continued to frown at the monitor. "Rill should have been in contact."

  "Ily, power the dish and call him if it would make you feel better."

  She shook her head, eyes slitted. "I wouldn't give him the pleasure. He'd think I needed him. Something's wrong. If nothing else, he would have called about this Silk woman. A Regan trader who entered the terminal wearing a Vegan scarf?"

  Ily pursed her lips, gaze locked on the monitor in which Terguz slowly receded. "You don't suppose. . . " She shook her head. "No. She couldn't have figured out where I'd go. The probabilities are too slim. It would have had to be a lucky guess. Staffa would have wanted to strangle her with attention. "

  'Skyla? "

  " Yes, Skyla. Could that be our mysterious Silk?"

  For long moments, Arta sat quietly under the worry-cap. "How could she have guessed we'd space to Terguz?"

  " I don't know . . . unless they found something in the Ministry. But what? I didn't know we'd go to Terguz until I made up my mind."

  "The yacht," Arta grunted, pointing a finger. "They had some way of tracking it. Just like that recognition signature that let us escape Rega."

  77zat or Rill . . . No. He couldn't have. Skyla couldn't have caught us that quickly. Ily shifted, possessed by a sudden unease. "Power up the dish. I need to contact Rill. If I simply ask for an update on Tedor's yacht, that won't make it seem like I'm depending on him."

  "I'm powering the dish."

  Ily waited, studying Terguz through slitted eyes. "Comm is open," Arta announced.

  "Terguz comm, I would like access to 353767. "Affirmative." The answer dragged out, slurred by Doppler. Long seconds passed, before the slow voice announced,

  "Three five three seven six seven does not respond to your request. Dyhar? "

  Dyhar was comm shorthand for "Do you have another request?"

  "Affirmative. Repeat request and recontact when made." "Affirmative. "

  Ily jumped to her feet, pacing angrily. "How many gs can this thing make?"

  "Right at thirty, given maximum reactor capacity. If we push much more than that, we could damage the reactor, or worse, collapse a gravity plate.

  Fortunately the hold is mostly empty, otherwise we'd be stuck at around fifteen."

  Ily stared up at the image in the monitor. "I'm going back to the hold.

  Anything that looks heavy is going out the hatch. "

  "That's a violation of shipping-"

  "Rot regulations. What do we care? And, Arta, keep an eye on our back-trail.

  If you see a yacht boosting after us, especially Skyla's, let me know immediately. And remember, Doppler will mean they're a lot closer than you think. "

  "Affirmative, Ily. But if that was Skyla, what are we going to do?"

  Ily paused at the hatch. "We'll see just how fast this crate really is. Both Lyma's yacht and Mathaiison's mount cannon. "'

  "So does Victory.

  "Yes, but we don't know the targeting capabilities of these computers, or how long it's been since Blacker charged these guns.

  "Hello, Mac." Sinklar smiled warmly out of the monitor. I'Sinklar?" Mac settled before the terminal, grinning. "So you're back on Targa. Give my love to the pine trees and shoot a couple of Rebels for me." Mac turned serious.

  "How's it going. With Staffa, I mean. "'

  "Good, Mac. He and I, well, we've made peace. And you, I get reports that
you've got the Ashtan situation under control. The comm there is working again."

  "Sort of." Mac leaned forward. "What's up?" "I want your advice."

  Mac raised an eyebrow. "My advice? Hmm, get a good bottle of Ashtan rye, and take up a career as a juggler on Vermilion. You'll get more sleep than we do and rest considerably better when you do."

  Sinklar chuckled. "Good advice, but that's not what I need. You know about the Seddi computer? The Mag, Comm? I've seen it, Mac. You weren't all that far from the chamber where it's located. " Sinklar's expression turned sober.

  "It's a stunning piece of equipment. But, Mac, it's not ours . . . I mean, not human."

  "Spill it, Sink. What's up?"

  "I want to know what you think about turning the administration of Free Space over to the machine. Evidently, it can handle the programs with a greater efficiency than anything we had on Rega ... and on Sassa, too."

  Mac began worrying at the callus on his thumb. "And you don't know what to think, is that it? Do you trust it or not? "

  Sinklar's weirdly colored gaze intensified. "It's not an easy decision to make."

  "My advice, old buddy, is close it up in the rock and leave it to talk to itself for another couple of thousand years. "

  "You mean that?"

  "It's a Seddi machine. You know what I think about them ... and their accursed computer. " Mac rubbed his hand over his mouth. "I know. We're in a hard spot right now. If we took some time, sorted out some of these comm problems, maybe we could make it through on our own. "

  "Thanks, Mac, that's what I wanted to hear. You vote no. 99

  "I vote no, unless you know something I don't." Sinklar shook his head.

  "That's the problem Staffa and I are having. We don't know what we know for sure. "'

  "Is that some of that funny epistemology sumpshit the Seddi are preaching?"

  Sinklar laughed. "I wish. Their stuff is easier to understand. No, this is a decision we have to make based on the best advice we can get . . . and in my case, it's pretty poor advice at best."

  "Yeah, but I'm faithful."

  "You are that." Sinklar paused. "I miss you, Mac. There's no one to talk to except for Staffa and my watchdog, Adze."

  "They have you under guard?"

  "Sorry, she's not that kind of watchdog. She's an STU

  personal security type. My own version of Ryman Ark. She's an odd one, Mac.

  Quiet, competent, and she doesn't seem to like me."

  "Bless the quanta! The last thing you need right now is involvement with another woman. Take some time to heal. " Sinklar nodded, lowering his eyes for a moment before

  his old crooked grin returned. "Speaking about women, how's your problem?"

  Mac tensed, lowering his voice. "Targa.

  Sinklar's image crossed its arms, leaning forward. "The line is secure. What's happening?"

  "Chrysla and I . . . well, your mother and I ... ah, hell Sink, things have gotten pretty complicated. I'm not sorry about it. I wouldn't trade these last couple of days for eternity. I don't know. What's your advice? When Staffa finds out, would I be wise to be on the other side of the Forbidden Borders? "

  "I

  Sinklar chewed at his lip for a moment, frowning. don't know. I don't think so, but that's a guess. He grilled me just after Gyton spaced. He wanted to know if you and Chrysla were lovers. I told him no. I thought it was the truth at the time."

  "It was."

  "He said he wanted to prepare himself, that if he'd known, he would have made things easier for you. " Sink pulled at his nose, then shook his head. "Mac, I don't know what to think of him. He's not ... Rotted Gods, what am I saying?

  All right, in all honesty, he's the most impressive man 19ve ever met. I'm even starting to like and respect him. "

  "Great, does that mean we're going to have every Companion in space trying to run us down to avenge the Lord Commander's honor?"

  "Keep your heads down for a while. Let me see what I can learn. " Sinklar gave him a thumbs-up. "But no matter what, if it comes down to trouble, I'll put my neck on the line for you."

  "Don't. Not if it really looks like he's going berserk." Sinklar's expression warmed. "I've been a little lost since Ily arrested me, Mac. I'm discovering just how much I've been wallowing in my own misery. I'm back on track nowand I'll take your side. "

  Sinklar held up a hand. "No wait. I see that look in your eyes, Mac. Take it from a man who had two wonderful, women to love ... and lost them both.

  Take every moment you can with her. Love each other as if you'll never have another chance." A yawning sorrow betrayed itself. "You might only have this moment in time. Use it. I'll fight any battles for you that need to be fought with Staffa. "

  "I don't want you risking your neck on my account, Sink. "

  "Mac, my wonderful friend." Sinklar smiled wearily. "How many times have you risked your neck for me? Here on Targa? Out there against Sassa? It won't just be my duty, it will be my honor. "

  Mac tried to swallow and couldn't. "Thanks, buddy." "Tell Chrysla that I'm sorry for treating her the way I did. Tell her that I was suffocating in my own self-pity. Tell her things will be different next time. "

  Mac nodded. "You've just taken a load off my soul, Sink. "

  "Glad to be of service. If you need anything, holler. For now, I've got to clear this band. Take care, and the Blessed Gods keep you both. "

  Mac nodded, the image flashing off before he could even say good-bye. Sinklar would fight for them, place himself between them and Staffa's wrath, if it came to that.

  "Damn it, Sink, I didn't mean for it to come to that."

  "This place is a mess!" Lark cried as she stepped into the galley aboard Rega One.

  "Yeah," Skyla ignored her, moving past the girl -to draw a cup of stassa.

  Since she'd removed the golden knobs from the dispenser, she had to pull the threaded screw. "They'd finished the whole thing in gold. Gold betwo= the tiles, gold in walls, gold on the table, gold in the shower, gold, gold, gold."

  Lark's expression betrayed incredulity. "And you're complaining?"

  "Kid, gold is heavy. Would you outfit a ship with lead? Pus, no! I've been stripping her down. While she was

  docked, I had the crews come in and haul out twenty tons of the stuff! "

  Lark studied the wreckage. "This looks like a lunatic lived here."

  Skyla turned away, walking to the other end of the galley as she sipped her stassa. "Yeah, well, those crates we passed in the lock are all the fixtures that need to be replaced. Welcome to the Companions."

  Lark crossed her arms. "Let me get this straight. I'm going along to help you put your ship back together?" Skyla lifted a shoulder. "What did you think?

  Compan-

  ions do nothing but run around fighting wars, drinking, and carousing, and having high adventures? Wake up, kid!" Lark's scowl remained, but she lifted her arms in surrender. "All right. If it gets me into the Companions, I'll scrub the converter chutes for that opportunity."

  Skyla propped herself comfortably. "The dispenser's there. Help yourself."

  Lark walked over and drew a cup of choklat. "So what's the hitch? The thing you wouldn't tell me in Gyper Rill's office? "

  Skyla waved it off. "Relax, I was trying to scare you." ' 'You don't want to tell me. Someone's trying to kill us, right? "

  "That goes without saying. Ily and Arta for starters." "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

  ' 'Not the kind you're thinking of. You know, I should have killed Rill. I must be slipping, getting too sentimental. " Skyla lifted an eyebrow. "Or does that bother you? Killing so that someone can't get even in the future?"

  Lark thought about it, then shook her head. "Not with Rill. I was so disgusted listening to him. Skyla, how typical is he? Are all of Ily's people like that?"

  Skyla stared at the torn deck plating, running her toe in a semicircle over the plates. "Yeah, Lark. And not just Ily's people. Sassa, Rega, they're both the same. To get to th
e top, you did it any way you could. Ily chose her people, Divine Sassa chose his, the Praetor, Tybalt, it didn't matter. They wanted vipers for henchmen."

  Lark sipped her choklat. "Like my father?"

  Skyla crossed her arms. "What do you know about him? About his political dealings?"

  "Not much. I used to have to suffer through state dinners, sitting down the table, being polite to some aide. Some7 times they were bored, sometimes, as I got older, they wanted to seduce me, especially the ambitious ones looking for a marriage to an aristocratic family. But when it came to the actual functioning of my father's office, I couldn't tell you if he played tapa all day at his desk, or what."

  "How much do you care?"

  Lark stared vacantly at the gouged tabletop. "You mean, do I want to know the truth? " She reached out, running a pink thumb down one of the mortises.

  "That's a way of telling me that if we'd put Mytol in my father, he would have left me sick, too, isn't it?"

  Skyla walked forward, slipping into the opposite side of the booth. "I don't get it. I've known a lot of Regan highmuck-a-mucks, but I've never met their families. Oh, I've been introduced, but you never see them as anything except smiling, polite, social plastic. Talking to them, you get the feeling they're pampered idiots living in a stasis bubble. Howd you get out?"

  "Terguz," Lark said woodenly. "How can you get in trouble in this hole?

  Internal Security knows me. Same with the customs guys. I've been trying to sneak onto a ship for two years now. Let's say I was in the Wayside, and a fight broke out. The locals would shag me out of there before the first punch landed. "

  "Yeah, I know. It's a closed little world."

  "Got that right, and I was the Administrator's daughter." She stared into her choklat. "Now you know why I swiped that grenade. Did what I did. I was starting to get desperate, Skyla. My father says it's bad genes and looks disapprovingly at my mother."

  "What about your education? Have you had any?" "The best money could buy on this ice cube. My father imported tutors from all over Free Space to teach me everything a young lady needed to know to marry into her station. I can recite any Regan genealogy ever registered. But more than that, I placed well enough to have been admitted to University."