Alien debt, p.2
Alien Debt, page 2
part #5 of The Long View Series
"Tregare! Ivan Marchant was Ilse's First Hat on GrafSpee, and then Coordination officer for Falconer squadron. Yet now you give him no Hat at all? Is he to serve as a rating, under an untried boy like Ornaway?"
"Easy." One hand warded off her urgency. "Ivan's my Gunnery chief, rank roughly equal to First Hat but outside the Hats' chain of command, answering directly to me. For the fancy turret setup you designed, I think that's a full-time job."
Her eyes narrowed. "Outside the command-chain, you say. Yet he will answer not only to yourself. Any Hat who happens to be watch officer can call him to account."
Tregare's fist thumped the bar. "As my representative, sure. Same as the Chief Engineer takes orders, no matter who calls from Control. I don't see any problem."
Rissa paused. "Why, Bran? And you know what I mean."
Slowly, he nodded. "All right. In the battle for Earth, Ivan broke. Cut loose from his duties and went all-out after Admiral Ozzie Newhausen."
"And got him. Do not forget that."
His hand sliced air. "Got him, sure. But dumped every squadron responsibility, right in the middle of combat, to do it. No, Rissa. I value Ivan and you know that-but I want him where his skills will help and any lack of discipline can't hurt." Briefly, he grinned. "For his backup, I've assigned Dacia Kobolak."
Anger ebbing, Rissa said, "I cannot argue, Bran-though I wish I could." Her other thought, that Ivan's willingness to leave Ilse behind might be a trouble sign, she did not mention.
The afternoon's first arrival was Dacia Kobolak's scoutship. These small spacecraft, ordinarily carried by the fleet's full-sized ships, did not have interstellar range but found use in and near planetary systems-or as emergency lifeboats. They were de-
8
signed to accommodate twelve passengers-but from this one, only a pair of aliens followed Dacia down the ramp.
Reaching ground, the sturdy redhaired woman still led the way. Behind her the tall, thin Shrakken, each wearing only a sort of harness hung with bulging pouches, came with their toe-dancing gait. Unlike bears or humans, Shrakken were not plantigrade. As Tregare put it, "The heel is a hock; that's where the extra height is." And indeed they were tall-at least the equal of Hawkman Moray. The taller one, Rissa recognized-squinting against dust raised by the landing-as her old acquaintance Stonzai, commander of Sharanj, the ship Tregare had captured on Number One so long ago. Commander wasn't quite the correct term among Shrakken, Rissa knew, but close enough. Now she noticed that Stonzai's ocher skin was brighter than her companion's, its brownish clown-markings more clearly defined.
Closer now, Rissa saw eyelids blink horizontally across the black triangular eyes, each surmounted by a stubby pair of tendrils. The inverted-V mouth made what Rissa knew to be the equivalent of a smile. Passing Dacia with a quick, one-armed hug, Rissa moved to meet the Shrakken. "Stonzai!" and as when they had parted on Stronghold, each reached out fingers to touch the other's forehead.
Head moving in the Shrakken way that was neither nod nor shake, Stonzai spoke. "Again meet we; I to do so had not thought. But when in space we to Limmer talk, says he safe it is, us here to come; those here who Shrakken killed, now not rule. True, this is?"
"Yes, Stonzai. And-" She paused; it struck her that the other Shrakken had said nothing. And Tregare also stood quietly, as if uncertain. Rissa said, "Stonzai, do you remember Bran Tregare?"
"Remember, yes." Stonzai moved toward him, and without hesitation Tregare returned the forehead touch. Turning to her companion, the Shrakken said, "Sevshen, now also must you," and when the other did not move, spoke in their own language. Then Sevshen, too, came to both humans and exchanged the touch. Rissa's relieved sigh surprised her; she led the group indoors.
Surveying the dining area's golden-brown walls and glittering ceiling, Stonzai hissed approval. Tregare moved to the bar, and suddenly Rissa realized she had no idea whether Shrakken used alcohol. She opened a bottle and sniffed at it, then passed it to
9
Stonzai. Again she'd forgotten something; Shrakken had no visible nostrils. But Stonzai, holding the bottle near her open mouth, inhaled with a whooshing noise. Then she handed the liquor back. "I not this use."
Tregare shrugged. Before Rissa could think of anything to say, Stonzai pointed to the array of other bottles. "These, not have ! try. Different, they be?"
With a grin, Tregare said, "Different flavors, same principle;" his gesture welcomed her to sample further, and she did, opening one bottle after another and whooshing at it. Three she set aside, but the next-a brandy-she handed to Tregare.
"This I use." But before he could pour from it she said, "Do you, wait," and methodically she worked through the entire lot, approving only a few. "These, good are." Curious as to the alien's criteria, Rissa peered at the bottles and found her answer: grape versus grain. Brandy, cordials and most wines, Stonzai approved; whiskeys, rums, rice wine, she rejected. Mentally shrugging, she watched Tregare do the honors; without asking, he added ice to the spirits and handed glasses to the two aliens. They sipped, and each gave a short hiss.
For Rissa and himself he set up bourbon and ice, lightening hers with water, then said, "Let's sit down, shall we?"
Human-built chairs did not fit Shrakken very well, but a low divan seemed to suit them. And now Rissa spoke. "Tell us, Stonzai, about your enemies."
From down the galactic Arm the Tsa came. How far? Stonzai didn't know. How long since they had first appeared? The Shrakken's considerable time in space, shrinking time near light-speed, did not help Rissa guess at the period involved.
When Tsa came upon Shrakken they killed them, or did their Tsa best in the attempt. After the first meeting, no parleys, only attack. Tsa ships, said Stonzai, were comparable to human or Shrakken: in size, power, acceleration, and turning ability. So with the Shrakken's "home field" advantage of shorter supply lines, the first and second waves of Tsa attacks had been beaten off. Losses, yes. "Ships where all Shrakken dead were, or lacking minds were." But no major damage to Shrakken planets.
Then, after a lapse of time indeterminate to Rissa if not to Stonzai also, a third and greater assault had come. And that one had nearly succeeded. "Whole worlds, dead are. Or, like blind animals, remaining Shrakken crawl, and for roots dig." Stonzai blinked. "For food, to find. More good, I think, dead to be."
10
"Yes," said Tregare. "From what you say, Stonzai, I have to agree." The temperature was mild, but sweat beads stood on his forehead.
To Rissa the point was clear. As Derek Limmer had reported, after meeting in space the Shrakken ship that then brought Stonzai to Earth, one more Tsa attack wave might well finish the Shrakken, might disrupt their civilization past rebuilding.
Tsa weapons? Tregare asked it. According to Stonzai, the Tsa's gunnery was more potent than Shrakken but less so than what she'd seen of Tregare's. At Stronghold he'd given Stonzai samples of the latter, for good will. But what with travel times-the Long View-the Shrakken could hardly have duplicated many by now.
The mind weapon, though-and now Rissa listened closely, for here seemed to be the crux of the danger. Leaning forward, holding the empty glass that Tregare wasn't alert to fill, Stonzai said, "Close enough the Tsa come, and like claws in the mind they reach. Of it, die, some do; others, to ship's danger, wrongly act. Tsa strikes, not the own self you be." She made a crooning groan. "What they do, to fight against, none can."
Frowning, Tregare asked, "How close, before their mind gadget gets to you?" In human-Shrakken communications, translation of quantities had never been a strong point, but after a time Rissa decided that the mind weapon's range had to be slightly greater than that of Tsa or Shrakken gunnery-somewhat less, therefore, than Inconnu Deux's turrets could muster.
She said as much; Tregare shook his head. "The grade of approximation we have here, that's no real handle." At Rissa's frown, he added, "No, our one edge is FTL, the Hoyfarul Drive we're taking to Stonzai's people. Without that, considering the distances, we'd be pretty useless as allies." And thinking the matter over, Rissa had to agree.
Stonzai produced one other datum: Tsa was the enemy's own name for its species, not a Shrakken coinage. But how this fact had become known, Stonzai could not explain.
On that subject the discussion ended. And then other guests began arriving.
As house staff relieved Rissa and Tregare from bartending and serving duties, the two took station to greet-informally- the new arrivals. Many of these Rissa did not know; her work dealt with coordination, while some now present worked with other Board members in their own specialties. But in the greet-
11
ings Tregare dropped hints to tell Rissa what those specialties were.
As her brother Ivan approached with Ilse Krueger, Tregare said, "That's about the lot. You want to go pump those two, and ease your mind, feel free."
Smiling her thanks, Rissa faced the newcomers. Ilse Krueger showed few visible signs of her old injuries; the small woman moved like a young girl. Her blonde hair, chin length and curly, hid most of the scar that ran from mouth corner past where her left ear had been, up into the scalp. The thin white line no longer pulled her mouth askew. But Rissa knew the hair covered scar tissue that closed the former earhole; Ilse was half deafened. One touch of a heat beam did it; her survival was sheer luck.
First the handshakes and polite words; then Rissa took each by a hand. "Come, let us have drinks, and talk."
Grinning, teeth glinting against his pale skin, her brother pushed back a lock of dark hair. "You mean, ask questions."
"That, too." And when the three found drinks and sat down, Rissa began. "Inconnu Deux will be out a long time. What is wrong, that you agree to such an indefinite separation?"
"Well, it's just-"
"The trouble is-"
Speaking together, then Ilse and Ivan smiled at each other and explained in turn. As the Board's trouble-shooter, Ivan was away from home more than not. But groundside, usually-whereas Ilse, in charge of combat training programs on the cadet ships, was in space quite often. "We're apart so much," said Ilse, "that we can never settle differences. All we do is tippy-toe around everything, to avoid argument." And Ivan nodded.
"So the answer," said Rissa, "is to be together not at all?"
"Trial separation," said Ivan. "Then maybe-"
"And meanwhile," Ilse put in, "it won't hurt either of us to be free people for a time."
Ivan shook his head. "No, Ilse. I've said it before; you be free if you wish, but it's not for me." He stood and walked to the bar. His stride, Rissa thought, would not encourage anyone to get in his way.
Ilse turned the talk to Inconnu Deux and kept it there. Well, the smallest person ever to survive UET's Space Academy had to be rather stubborn. Then it was time for dining-and the long discussions, buttoning up the needs of Inconnu Deux.
Hagen Trent, the ship's chief engineer, impressed Rissa. Young for his rank but balding early, his enthusiasm matched his
12
obvious intelligence. He had studied directly under Pennet Hoyfarul, and after a tour in space he hoped to work in the improvement of FTL-drive design. His hand brushed the bulky curly fringe of his remaining hair. "We're still in the first phases. A few more years-" Then the man's female companion needed his attention, and he was led off toward the snack buffet.
Rissa's glass was empty; she strolled to the bar. A distinctive bottle attracted her attention-berry brandy from the planet Far Corner. She pointed, and the young attendant poured her three centimeters of the ruddy amber fluid. Sipping the tart flavor, she remembered-one-armed Bret Osallin, killed so long ago in Peralta's mutiny, had first offered her this drink. So long ago...
The lights blinked-Tregare's signal that business would commence-and Rissa brought her mind from Far Corner to Earth.
With considerable juggling of dials but less swearing than Rissa expected, Tregare got the holographic projector stabilized. Then, on the computer keyboard he punched combinations. In the dimly lit end of the big room a belt of white stars appeared.
His hand moved; one star turned green. "Us," he said. More movement, and a group of stars, spread among others that were unaffected, glowed a darker orange. "The Shrakken suns. Not entirely accurate, I expect, but the best info we have." Another touch, and two lights went red. One, the nearer to Earth, blinked. Tregare pointed. "Shaarbant, that one. Peripheral to the main volume of Shrakken space, and a good place to refuel on our way to Stenevo, their major world," and he pointed to the other red star.
"The distances we're talking about-well, more than half the width of our galactic Arm, and down it a little less than that. We and the Shrakken, both, have expanded more along the arm than across it. Shaarbant's closer to us than any other Shrakken world. So that's where we go first."
Beside him, Stonzai said something Rissa did not hear. Tregare nodded and made another adjustment; now several of the orange lights began to blink. "These, mostly toward the inner-arm side of Shrakken space, are the ones the Tsa have attacked." Nearly half, Rissa saw, of the Shrakken total. Tregare touched more keys, and four of the blinking stars dimmed. "Dead worlds," he said. "Killed by the Tsa."
He looked to Stonzai, but the alien gave no further sign.
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Tregare stepped back from the terminal. "For now, I guess that's all the briefing." But then there were questions, and he answered them; the meeting lasted another hour.
Three days later, Inconnu Deux was on its way.
///. Elzh
Long, now, since Elzh with seven ships left dear homeworld. Long enough to crass much of space shown on the Tsa-Drin chart, passing wide of mindbeast planets that knew the Tsa. Scouts had found new beastworids; these the Tsa-Drin had charted for Elzh to study, and if possible, to destroy. As correct, as understood. To learn, then to obey.
From when Tsa first met beasts, Tsa must fight-Tsa ships against beastworids, lest beast ships come to Tsa worlds. Since beasts gave Tsa no peace, then beasts must die-though the toll, in Tsa minds and Tsa lives, was frightful.
But, to obey. Seven ships and the Tsa-Drin chart, and only a few more cycles to the new beastworld. To obey.
But now, to gather. Freeing thought, Elzh began mind-say.
In the nest. Grouped with Idsath and Tserln, mindsay soft and murmurous, Elzh felt warmly indling. Nothing to hurt, as always between Tsa. Except-until their sex-progression stabilized, Elzh's incomplete maleness gave irritation, an itch without satisfaction. No matter (Idsath); soon. Fully ready as moderator, Idsath-to accept and blend Elzh's genes and Tserln's, and return them to Tserln for fruition. Had the Tsa-Drin plan allowed for increase, all of that would happen. Now, though, the first stages, in themselves ecstatic, could not go on to completion. Tserln, when wholly female, would bear that frustration of deep Tsa instinct.
As you accepted it (Tserln, to the unworded thought), shall
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I, also. Touching as fully as now might be, the three shared warmth.
Then time to leave the nest, to share food instead, and with others of the crewing. Still, touching could be, but lesserly-as correct, as understood. Mindsay, with so many together, was slower-each giving much quiet between sayings.
Even so, dread of beastworld grew in Elzh's thought. To mindsay the fear would lessen it, but Elzh did not.
IV. Tregare
.Eighty hours from Earth, the Deux
passed light-speed; Bran Tregare shrugged in relief. It wasn't that he distrusted the Hoyfarul Drive, but after all, he'd grown up believing in Einstein. Not that the ship's ellipsoidal, coherent drive field, which shielded the Deux from the effects of a hundred gees or more, contradicted "Saint Albert"-not exactly. Velocity still built mass, but that mass appeared in parallel continua that held no other matter. "In fact," Doctor Hoyfarul had once said, "it's possible that the drive creates those extra universes. I can't vouch for the idea, either way."
And when Tregare insisted that mass was still mass, and required force to accelerate it, Hoyfarul's laugh shook the wattles at his throat. "In a continuum with all mass concentrated in one object," he said, "how do you define acceleration? Or, for that matter, motion?"
Tregare laughed too, then, and gave up the argument. Now, with all die Deux's external sensors-except the gravitic detectors- showing zerch, the ship was unmistakably outpacing light. But it wasn't chewing time, or not by much; in FTL travel the "Long View," the passage of years while the ship experienced only months, was not a factor. Not much of one, anyway. There was still a residual second-order effect in the "home" continuum, but it was logarithmic and grew very slowly. At their top speed for
15
this voyage-about 120 lights, Hoyfarul had estimated it-time-dilation would only briefly exceed three-to-one. As compared, Tregare reflected, to the twenty-to-one average for STL runs. No, this time-on a run of about one year, subjective-his two ages wouldn't diverge much farther.
"Easy." One hand warded off her urgency. "Ivan's my Gunnery chief, rank roughly equal to First Hat but outside the Hats' chain of command, answering directly to me. For the fancy turret setup you designed, I think that's a full-time job."
Her eyes narrowed. "Outside the command-chain, you say. Yet he will answer not only to yourself. Any Hat who happens to be watch officer can call him to account."
Tregare's fist thumped the bar. "As my representative, sure. Same as the Chief Engineer takes orders, no matter who calls from Control. I don't see any problem."
Rissa paused. "Why, Bran? And you know what I mean."
Slowly, he nodded. "All right. In the battle for Earth, Ivan broke. Cut loose from his duties and went all-out after Admiral Ozzie Newhausen."
"And got him. Do not forget that."
His hand sliced air. "Got him, sure. But dumped every squadron responsibility, right in the middle of combat, to do it. No, Rissa. I value Ivan and you know that-but I want him where his skills will help and any lack of discipline can't hurt." Briefly, he grinned. "For his backup, I've assigned Dacia Kobolak."
Anger ebbing, Rissa said, "I cannot argue, Bran-though I wish I could." Her other thought, that Ivan's willingness to leave Ilse behind might be a trouble sign, she did not mention.
The afternoon's first arrival was Dacia Kobolak's scoutship. These small spacecraft, ordinarily carried by the fleet's full-sized ships, did not have interstellar range but found use in and near planetary systems-or as emergency lifeboats. They were de-
8
signed to accommodate twelve passengers-but from this one, only a pair of aliens followed Dacia down the ramp.
Reaching ground, the sturdy redhaired woman still led the way. Behind her the tall, thin Shrakken, each wearing only a sort of harness hung with bulging pouches, came with their toe-dancing gait. Unlike bears or humans, Shrakken were not plantigrade. As Tregare put it, "The heel is a hock; that's where the extra height is." And indeed they were tall-at least the equal of Hawkman Moray. The taller one, Rissa recognized-squinting against dust raised by the landing-as her old acquaintance Stonzai, commander of Sharanj, the ship Tregare had captured on Number One so long ago. Commander wasn't quite the correct term among Shrakken, Rissa knew, but close enough. Now she noticed that Stonzai's ocher skin was brighter than her companion's, its brownish clown-markings more clearly defined.
Closer now, Rissa saw eyelids blink horizontally across the black triangular eyes, each surmounted by a stubby pair of tendrils. The inverted-V mouth made what Rissa knew to be the equivalent of a smile. Passing Dacia with a quick, one-armed hug, Rissa moved to meet the Shrakken. "Stonzai!" and as when they had parted on Stronghold, each reached out fingers to touch the other's forehead.
Head moving in the Shrakken way that was neither nod nor shake, Stonzai spoke. "Again meet we; I to do so had not thought. But when in space we to Limmer talk, says he safe it is, us here to come; those here who Shrakken killed, now not rule. True, this is?"
"Yes, Stonzai. And-" She paused; it struck her that the other Shrakken had said nothing. And Tregare also stood quietly, as if uncertain. Rissa said, "Stonzai, do you remember Bran Tregare?"
"Remember, yes." Stonzai moved toward him, and without hesitation Tregare returned the forehead touch. Turning to her companion, the Shrakken said, "Sevshen, now also must you," and when the other did not move, spoke in their own language. Then Sevshen, too, came to both humans and exchanged the touch. Rissa's relieved sigh surprised her; she led the group indoors.
Surveying the dining area's golden-brown walls and glittering ceiling, Stonzai hissed approval. Tregare moved to the bar, and suddenly Rissa realized she had no idea whether Shrakken used alcohol. She opened a bottle and sniffed at it, then passed it to
9
Stonzai. Again she'd forgotten something; Shrakken had no visible nostrils. But Stonzai, holding the bottle near her open mouth, inhaled with a whooshing noise. Then she handed the liquor back. "I not this use."
Tregare shrugged. Before Rissa could think of anything to say, Stonzai pointed to the array of other bottles. "These, not have ! try. Different, they be?"
With a grin, Tregare said, "Different flavors, same principle;" his gesture welcomed her to sample further, and she did, opening one bottle after another and whooshing at it. Three she set aside, but the next-a brandy-she handed to Tregare.
"This I use." But before he could pour from it she said, "Do you, wait," and methodically she worked through the entire lot, approving only a few. "These, good are." Curious as to the alien's criteria, Rissa peered at the bottles and found her answer: grape versus grain. Brandy, cordials and most wines, Stonzai approved; whiskeys, rums, rice wine, she rejected. Mentally shrugging, she watched Tregare do the honors; without asking, he added ice to the spirits and handed glasses to the two aliens. They sipped, and each gave a short hiss.
For Rissa and himself he set up bourbon and ice, lightening hers with water, then said, "Let's sit down, shall we?"
Human-built chairs did not fit Shrakken very well, but a low divan seemed to suit them. And now Rissa spoke. "Tell us, Stonzai, about your enemies."
From down the galactic Arm the Tsa came. How far? Stonzai didn't know. How long since they had first appeared? The Shrakken's considerable time in space, shrinking time near light-speed, did not help Rissa guess at the period involved.
When Tsa came upon Shrakken they killed them, or did their Tsa best in the attempt. After the first meeting, no parleys, only attack. Tsa ships, said Stonzai, were comparable to human or Shrakken: in size, power, acceleration, and turning ability. So with the Shrakken's "home field" advantage of shorter supply lines, the first and second waves of Tsa attacks had been beaten off. Losses, yes. "Ships where all Shrakken dead were, or lacking minds were." But no major damage to Shrakken planets.
Then, after a lapse of time indeterminate to Rissa if not to Stonzai also, a third and greater assault had come. And that one had nearly succeeded. "Whole worlds, dead are. Or, like blind animals, remaining Shrakken crawl, and for roots dig." Stonzai blinked. "For food, to find. More good, I think, dead to be."
10
"Yes," said Tregare. "From what you say, Stonzai, I have to agree." The temperature was mild, but sweat beads stood on his forehead.
To Rissa the point was clear. As Derek Limmer had reported, after meeting in space the Shrakken ship that then brought Stonzai to Earth, one more Tsa attack wave might well finish the Shrakken, might disrupt their civilization past rebuilding.
Tsa weapons? Tregare asked it. According to Stonzai, the Tsa's gunnery was more potent than Shrakken but less so than what she'd seen of Tregare's. At Stronghold he'd given Stonzai samples of the latter, for good will. But what with travel times-the Long View-the Shrakken could hardly have duplicated many by now.
The mind weapon, though-and now Rissa listened closely, for here seemed to be the crux of the danger. Leaning forward, holding the empty glass that Tregare wasn't alert to fill, Stonzai said, "Close enough the Tsa come, and like claws in the mind they reach. Of it, die, some do; others, to ship's danger, wrongly act. Tsa strikes, not the own self you be." She made a crooning groan. "What they do, to fight against, none can."
Frowning, Tregare asked, "How close, before their mind gadget gets to you?" In human-Shrakken communications, translation of quantities had never been a strong point, but after a time Rissa decided that the mind weapon's range had to be slightly greater than that of Tsa or Shrakken gunnery-somewhat less, therefore, than Inconnu Deux's turrets could muster.
She said as much; Tregare shook his head. "The grade of approximation we have here, that's no real handle." At Rissa's frown, he added, "No, our one edge is FTL, the Hoyfarul Drive we're taking to Stonzai's people. Without that, considering the distances, we'd be pretty useless as allies." And thinking the matter over, Rissa had to agree.
Stonzai produced one other datum: Tsa was the enemy's own name for its species, not a Shrakken coinage. But how this fact had become known, Stonzai could not explain.
On that subject the discussion ended. And then other guests began arriving.
As house staff relieved Rissa and Tregare from bartending and serving duties, the two took station to greet-informally- the new arrivals. Many of these Rissa did not know; her work dealt with coordination, while some now present worked with other Board members in their own specialties. But in the greet-
11
ings Tregare dropped hints to tell Rissa what those specialties were.
As her brother Ivan approached with Ilse Krueger, Tregare said, "That's about the lot. You want to go pump those two, and ease your mind, feel free."
Smiling her thanks, Rissa faced the newcomers. Ilse Krueger showed few visible signs of her old injuries; the small woman moved like a young girl. Her blonde hair, chin length and curly, hid most of the scar that ran from mouth corner past where her left ear had been, up into the scalp. The thin white line no longer pulled her mouth askew. But Rissa knew the hair covered scar tissue that closed the former earhole; Ilse was half deafened. One touch of a heat beam did it; her survival was sheer luck.
First the handshakes and polite words; then Rissa took each by a hand. "Come, let us have drinks, and talk."
Grinning, teeth glinting against his pale skin, her brother pushed back a lock of dark hair. "You mean, ask questions."
"That, too." And when the three found drinks and sat down, Rissa began. "Inconnu Deux will be out a long time. What is wrong, that you agree to such an indefinite separation?"
"Well, it's just-"
"The trouble is-"
Speaking together, then Ilse and Ivan smiled at each other and explained in turn. As the Board's trouble-shooter, Ivan was away from home more than not. But groundside, usually-whereas Ilse, in charge of combat training programs on the cadet ships, was in space quite often. "We're apart so much," said Ilse, "that we can never settle differences. All we do is tippy-toe around everything, to avoid argument." And Ivan nodded.
"So the answer," said Rissa, "is to be together not at all?"
"Trial separation," said Ivan. "Then maybe-"
"And meanwhile," Ilse put in, "it won't hurt either of us to be free people for a time."
Ivan shook his head. "No, Ilse. I've said it before; you be free if you wish, but it's not for me." He stood and walked to the bar. His stride, Rissa thought, would not encourage anyone to get in his way.
Ilse turned the talk to Inconnu Deux and kept it there. Well, the smallest person ever to survive UET's Space Academy had to be rather stubborn. Then it was time for dining-and the long discussions, buttoning up the needs of Inconnu Deux.
Hagen Trent, the ship's chief engineer, impressed Rissa. Young for his rank but balding early, his enthusiasm matched his
12
obvious intelligence. He had studied directly under Pennet Hoyfarul, and after a tour in space he hoped to work in the improvement of FTL-drive design. His hand brushed the bulky curly fringe of his remaining hair. "We're still in the first phases. A few more years-" Then the man's female companion needed his attention, and he was led off toward the snack buffet.
Rissa's glass was empty; she strolled to the bar. A distinctive bottle attracted her attention-berry brandy from the planet Far Corner. She pointed, and the young attendant poured her three centimeters of the ruddy amber fluid. Sipping the tart flavor, she remembered-one-armed Bret Osallin, killed so long ago in Peralta's mutiny, had first offered her this drink. So long ago...
The lights blinked-Tregare's signal that business would commence-and Rissa brought her mind from Far Corner to Earth.
With considerable juggling of dials but less swearing than Rissa expected, Tregare got the holographic projector stabilized. Then, on the computer keyboard he punched combinations. In the dimly lit end of the big room a belt of white stars appeared.
His hand moved; one star turned green. "Us," he said. More movement, and a group of stars, spread among others that were unaffected, glowed a darker orange. "The Shrakken suns. Not entirely accurate, I expect, but the best info we have." Another touch, and two lights went red. One, the nearer to Earth, blinked. Tregare pointed. "Shaarbant, that one. Peripheral to the main volume of Shrakken space, and a good place to refuel on our way to Stenevo, their major world," and he pointed to the other red star.
"The distances we're talking about-well, more than half the width of our galactic Arm, and down it a little less than that. We and the Shrakken, both, have expanded more along the arm than across it. Shaarbant's closer to us than any other Shrakken world. So that's where we go first."
Beside him, Stonzai said something Rissa did not hear. Tregare nodded and made another adjustment; now several of the orange lights began to blink. "These, mostly toward the inner-arm side of Shrakken space, are the ones the Tsa have attacked." Nearly half, Rissa saw, of the Shrakken total. Tregare touched more keys, and four of the blinking stars dimmed. "Dead worlds," he said. "Killed by the Tsa."
He looked to Stonzai, but the alien gave no further sign.
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Tregare stepped back from the terminal. "For now, I guess that's all the briefing." But then there were questions, and he answered them; the meeting lasted another hour.
Three days later, Inconnu Deux was on its way.
///. Elzh
Long, now, since Elzh with seven ships left dear homeworld. Long enough to crass much of space shown on the Tsa-Drin chart, passing wide of mindbeast planets that knew the Tsa. Scouts had found new beastworids; these the Tsa-Drin had charted for Elzh to study, and if possible, to destroy. As correct, as understood. To learn, then to obey.
From when Tsa first met beasts, Tsa must fight-Tsa ships against beastworids, lest beast ships come to Tsa worlds. Since beasts gave Tsa no peace, then beasts must die-though the toll, in Tsa minds and Tsa lives, was frightful.
But, to obey. Seven ships and the Tsa-Drin chart, and only a few more cycles to the new beastworld. To obey.
But now, to gather. Freeing thought, Elzh began mind-say.
In the nest. Grouped with Idsath and Tserln, mindsay soft and murmurous, Elzh felt warmly indling. Nothing to hurt, as always between Tsa. Except-until their sex-progression stabilized, Elzh's incomplete maleness gave irritation, an itch without satisfaction. No matter (Idsath); soon. Fully ready as moderator, Idsath-to accept and blend Elzh's genes and Tserln's, and return them to Tserln for fruition. Had the Tsa-Drin plan allowed for increase, all of that would happen. Now, though, the first stages, in themselves ecstatic, could not go on to completion. Tserln, when wholly female, would bear that frustration of deep Tsa instinct.
As you accepted it (Tserln, to the unworded thought), shall
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I, also. Touching as fully as now might be, the three shared warmth.
Then time to leave the nest, to share food instead, and with others of the crewing. Still, touching could be, but lesserly-as correct, as understood. Mindsay, with so many together, was slower-each giving much quiet between sayings.
Even so, dread of beastworld grew in Elzh's thought. To mindsay the fear would lessen it, but Elzh did not.
IV. Tregare
.Eighty hours from Earth, the Deux
passed light-speed; Bran Tregare shrugged in relief. It wasn't that he distrusted the Hoyfarul Drive, but after all, he'd grown up believing in Einstein. Not that the ship's ellipsoidal, coherent drive field, which shielded the Deux from the effects of a hundred gees or more, contradicted "Saint Albert"-not exactly. Velocity still built mass, but that mass appeared in parallel continua that held no other matter. "In fact," Doctor Hoyfarul had once said, "it's possible that the drive creates those extra universes. I can't vouch for the idea, either way."
And when Tregare insisted that mass was still mass, and required force to accelerate it, Hoyfarul's laugh shook the wattles at his throat. "In a continuum with all mass concentrated in one object," he said, "how do you define acceleration? Or, for that matter, motion?"
Tregare laughed too, then, and gave up the argument. Now, with all die Deux's external sensors-except the gravitic detectors- showing zerch, the ship was unmistakably outpacing light. But it wasn't chewing time, or not by much; in FTL travel the "Long View," the passage of years while the ship experienced only months, was not a factor. Not much of one, anyway. There was still a residual second-order effect in the "home" continuum, but it was logarithmic and grew very slowly. At their top speed for
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this voyage-about 120 lights, Hoyfarul had estimated it-time-dilation would only briefly exceed three-to-one. As compared, Tregare reflected, to the twenty-to-one average for STL runs. No, this time-on a run of about one year, subjective-his two ages wouldn't diverge much farther.
