Long View - Rissa And Tregare Part 16

She considered. "I should know that task, I think-for possible emergencies-but not immediately." She paused. "Bran, I think the changed controls would improve any gun- ner's efficiency. Why has no one suggested it before?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. The controls are adapted from UET's and most of us are UET-trained. n.o.body said anything to me-and I've only practiced gunnery enough that I could man a turret in a pinch-so I never thought of it."

She took his hand. "I do not mean to show myself off-"

"Little Ms. Deadpan, announcing your scores with downcast eyes? The h.e.l.l you didn't!"

But he was smiling. "Sure, I know what you mean. You're not putting yourself up, and you do have a right to be proud."

Now she smiled also. "Thank you. I do not wish to be falsely modest. But not braggart-proud, either."

"Whatever you say, gunner." He stood. "Well, back to work."

"Yes." He left, and she returned to the turret for another hour's practice. She averaged FIRST, next morning, the intercom woke her; then came Bran's voice. "He what? Did he land on that G.o.dd.a.m.ned circle I drew for him, or not?"

"He hit it allright." She recognized Kenekke's tones. "d.a.m.ned near got a missile up his tail, though, when the watch rousted Vanois to scan a s.h.i.+p coming down without clearance."

She blinked her eyes into focus and saw Tregare, nude, standing by the intercom.

Frowning, he shook his head. "Has he talked to you? To anybody?"

"To Vanois. Just said he wants to see you-nothing more."

"That makes us a matched pair. All right-thanks, Anse. Tell Hain there's no special hurry; we'll leave at the usual time, regardless." He cut the circuit and turned toward Rissa, but she saw that he looked beyond her, at something not present.

She a.n.a.lyzed what she had heard. "It is Peralta? He moved to Base Two without notification?"

119.

Now he looked at her. "Middle of the night, the d.a.m.ned fool! And that scares me."

Morning air was chilly; he s.h.i.+vered and reached for his robe. "It's a little early, but would you like to get up and have breakfast? I-"

"Of course-you need to think aloud." She put on her own robe, went to the kitchen and started breakfast. When he came from the bathroom she took her turn there and rejoined him. Coffee was not ready, but he had poured fruit juice. He was pacing; seeing he was not yet ready to sit, she seated herself.

"Bran?-what Peralta has done-how bad is it?"

At the far end of the room, he wheeled and stopped, facing her. "That's it, you see. He hasn't done any one thing too far off course. But it's the pattern-he's telling me he's his own man, not mine. Well-peace be blown, he isn't! Oh, h.e.l.l- Jimar's ambition ..."

"Have you a plan to deal with him?"

He shook his head. "No-only to keep my string loose, him commit himself first, if he's going to." He looked at the stove. "Hey-everything's ready. No, sit still-I'll get it.''

As he served them, she said, "I do not see what he feels he can gain at this time. His s.h.i.+p is not yet armed, and-"

"s.h.i.+p's weapons are no use when you're on the ground side by side. But you heard Hain last night. Peralta has supernumeraries-extra manpower. For all I know, he's made himself a private army to try a takeover at Base Two." He began to eat, and Rissa thought, The talk is helping.

"If you were to call Limmer or Vanois, could Peralta intercept?"

"Not if we scrambled. I've set different codes for point-to-point with each s.h.i.+p. But- ".

"Before we go there, it might be well to confer."

"We? Oh, all right-" He waved a hand. "If I left you here, yoli'd probably follow in the other car, anyway. But-wait a minute-I see it."

"Yes, Bran?" Yes-now he was himself again. She waited.

"Check me on this. If the status is quo, I tell Vanois and Limmer to seal s.h.i.+p until I say open. If he's already taken over-"

"He has not. There would be time for warning, and there has been none."

120.

"True words. All right, then-my s.h.i.+ps b.u.t.toned, everybody waiting. We go down there-coming in low, of course, out of Peralta's reach if he's got hold of something and jury-rigged it. Now, then-what do I do?"

He was not asking advice, she knew-only for a response. "You said it yourself, Bran."

"What?" He washed food down with a swallow of coffee. "Oh, yes-make him commit himself. So-we land with Left hand Thread between us and No Return, and go aboard fast. And then-"

"And then, Tregare, you know exactly what to do-do you not?"

"Peace knows I do! We go about our business, exactly as though Peralta still sat at One Point One. Until he makes his move."

THERE was more to it. Tregare called Limmer and Vanois, learned that all was quiet so far, and gave instructions. He told Deverel and Kenekke, "You both stay here today, one of you at the board at all times. If the string gets tigpt and I yell for help, come in the scout. Wasteful, I know, biit this has to be decisive."

Deverel nodded and Tregare continued. "If you have to come, circle Base Two below the traverse angle of any s.h.i.+p's projectors, because you won't know for sure whose hands they're in. Interdict the ground completely-kill anything that moves-because unless somebody gets stupid and disobeys orders, none of them will be ours. You got it?"

"Sure have, captain," said Hain Deverel. "But I hope we don't have to do it."

"So do I-and I think you won't. But just-in-case is what wins arguments."

TREGARE drove the aircar south, away from his usual route. He hopped a ridge and circled back, low, hugging treetopped hills. He dropped into the crater with Limmer's s.h.i.+p s.h.i.+elding him from Peralta's, grounded quickly and taxied close to Lefthand Thread. As he and Rissa left the aircar, the ramp came down; it began to rise again while they still traversed it.

121.

Inside, they climbed rapidly and found Limmer in the control room.

"Everything quiet so far?" said Tregare.

"Yes, and with Vanois, too. Your man Kenekke has us relayed through. Tandem scramble plays h.e.l.l with the picture, but voice is clear enough."

"Good. Will you pipe a feed down to the galley squawk-box? I didn't have all my coffee at breakfast."

Limmer looked startled. "Sure, Tregare. But what are we going to do now?"

Tregare laughed. "Wrong question. The right one is, what's Peralta going to do-and when?" He turned to leave. "Let's let himmake the mistakes."

THE wait lengthened. Coffee became a mere excuse; taking only occasional sips, they sat while it cooled. Once, cursing in barely audible tones, Tregare stood and paced. Rissa started to speak but he waved a hand, slammed a fist on the table, and sat again. "I know- and I will! Standing on my head I can outwait Jimar Peralta!" But in his face she saw strain grow.

When the intercom sounded they had waited nearly three hours. A voice said, "Tregare?

Do you hear me?"

Limmer whispered, "Peralta." Tregare nodded and motioned to Limmer to answer.

"Limmer speaking. Do you have a message for Captain Tregare?"

"Tregare! What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?"

Limmer raised eyebrows in query. Tregare whispered, "Tell him I'm busy. Ask him again if he wants to leave a message." Limmer did so; Peralta merely repeated himself.

Tregare smiled; Rissa saw him relax. Speaking now in normal tones he said, "Tell Peralta that Tregare requests his company-his alone, from No Return-at lunch. Here, on Lefthand Thread. At noon, sharp." Audibly, he yawned. "I believe that "sail."

As though Peralta had not heard the message, Limmer repeated it. There was silence, then Peralta's voice. "Tell him-tell Tregare-oh, all right! I'll be there."

Tregare's hand chopped air; Limmer cut the circuit, and said, "What do you think he'll do now? Should we-?"

"We do nothing. He'll come."

122.

"Yes," said Rissa. "He is on a tight string, and you have tightened it further." She smiled. "But I expected no less of you, Bran Tregare."

PRECISELY at noon, Rissa sat at a table set for four, screened temporarily from the rest of the galley. Across from her sat Limmer, and to her right, Tregare.

Limmer looked at his watch. "He intends to make us wait."

"He won't," said Tregare. "Would you have the food served, please?"

"His, too?"

"Sure. If he eats it cold, it's his own fault."

They were well into their meal when the slim uniformed man approached; his walk gave Rissa the impression of boundless energy barely held in control. The escorting crew man said, "Here you are, Captain Peralta," and walked away.

Rissa studied the man, seeing a thin, dark face with eyes that moved constantly; his glance caught her gaze for a moment, then slid aside. Tension drives this man-tension, and what else?

Limmer looked up at him with his scar-drawn sneer, Tregare with no emotion at all; neither spoke. Peralta gestured. "Your courtesy lacks something. You eat before your guest arrives."

Tregare said, "My invitation was for noon; my watch reads twelve past. Was it that long a walk?"

Scowling, Peralta sat at Rissa's left. He took a bite of food. "Pah! It's cold."

"At the time specified," said Rissa, "it was served hot."

Tregare looked at her and gave his head a minute shake. "When you weren't here on time, we thought maybe you'd changed your plans. And we were hungry."

Peralta pushed his plate away "Well, I'm not-not for this. So eat, then." When they did, he scowled once more. "Tregare-what's this all about?"

Tregare moved his own plate, empty now, aside. "I think that's my question."

"What-"

- 123.

"You brought your s.h.i.+p here at night-without permission, let alone instructions-and landed without identifying yourself. And the only word you sent me-by the way of Vanois- was a summons." He smiled. "I'm sure you can explain why. So start now."

"Tregare-you don't own me-"

"I own certain rights to your loyalty and the use of the s.h.i.+p I helped you take. It's a long time you've profited by that s.h.i.+p, free and clear-now I'm collecting what's due me."

Peralta leaned forward. "What you're admitting is, you need me. Well, all right-but the terms want changing."

Tregare shook his head. "What I earned and what I need may not be the same. I need the s.h.i.+p, yes. You? Maybe not, the way it begins to look."

"My s.h.i.+p, you're talking about, Tregare!"

Limmer chuckled; Peralta glared at him. "Tregare, this is between us.We don't need the gargoyle-or the woman."

Limmer's expression did not change. He stood. "I like my face better than your manners." He turned to Tregare. "Don't worry-I know how to take orders. While we're both under your command, he's safe." he walked away.

Peralta gestured toward Rissa. "I said-the woman, too."

Before Tregare could speak, she said, "I did not think to be under your command, Peralta. If you think differently, perhaps you would like to prove it."

Snorting, Peralta batted a thumb across his nose. "Everybody's brave-everybody's a hero. All right, then-stay. But keep your mouth shut so it doesn't catch anything."

Interpreting Tregare's brow-lowered glance, she did not say what she intended. Breathing deeply, she waited.

Very quietly, Tregare spoke. "If you're done bulldozing my people, Peralta, maybe we can get to what's clawing you."

"All right!" The man pointed a finger. "Command, that's what! Rightly, I'm senior between us. I realize you have a head start here, but I want a share of command and I'm going to have it!"

"No shares, Peralta-committees don't win wars. And who was senior, and what did it matter, when we got your s.h.i.+p for you?"

"It matters now!" Half-crouched, Peralta stood. "Tregare! Maybe you haven't noticed, but we're just the way I wanted 124.

it-you and me, one on one-and I think I can take you!"

Rissa laughed. Peralta, his concentration broken, jerked sidewise to look at her.

"You are wrong," she said. "We are two to your one-not that Tregare would need my help."

Now it was Tregare who laughed. "Come to that, she probably wouldn't need mine, either. Didn't you hear the gossip at One Point One? About my wedding?"

Still crouching-balanced and bobbing slightly, ready to move-Peralta said, "Something-yes-a woman beat some fat slob, both unarmed? That won't matter here. You think I'm fool enough to come without-?" His hand brought the knife up; he half-lunged toward Tregare, then pulled back. "You see-?"

Through the time-shock Rissa watched herself; very slowly, it seemed, her hand swung the tall coffee mug. Liquid splattered Peralta's face and chest; she caught the blade in the mug as she swept it down. She felt the jar as the heavy rim caught Peralta's hand and wrist. Then the knife clattered away and she recovered her balance. Her backhand swing-full-muscled, unrestrained-brushed his other hand aside; the base of the mug glanced off his jaw.