Long View - Rissa And Tregare Part 6

"Tari Obrigo, you mean? That's not important; you were in hiding. And you'd hardly trust a pirate with anything as valuable as the reverser." He shook his head. "The only thing that didn't fit was why you let me bluff you into bed in the first place."

"I could not chance it that you were not bluffing-I needed to reach Number One. To oblige you in that way seemed a small matter. The body's acts count for little when there is no feeling."

"Yes-I had your body but not you. Except maybe the last night..."

"That night, Bran, I did feel. I am glad you knew it."

"Yes. Well, then-when Liesel wanted the marriage as a political move, I thought, all right, here's a chance to see if there's anything to it. Then she told me about the duel, and then I saw it-you scared h.e.l.l out of me, you know that? When dal Nardo almost had you, I swore he wouldn't outlive you five minutes!"

"As, of course, he did not. But then?"

"You know the rest. I said I wouldn't touch you until you agreed, and you told me who you really are, and-you suit me, that's all."

"And as I had hoped, I find that you suit me also, Bran Tregare."

45.She watched him; he was picking at the edge of the bandage. "Bran, are you ever going to tell me what has happened to your face?"

"Huh? Oh?-I'd forgotten I still had this on." He got an edge of tape between thumb and forefinger and pulled the bandage free. A few fragments of scab still clung to his cheek; he brushed them away. Where the tattoo had been, Rissa saw a patch of new pink skin.

"So that was it-you have had the markings removed."

"Yeah-about time I quit wearing UET's brand. Especially as the unofficial promotions weren't done too well." He grinned. "You know why I had those added?

Well, we were on a course that happened to point at Stronghold when I overstretched my Drive. Chasing a UET s.h.i.+p-caught it and took it, by the way. But the Drive was in trouble-even the best grade of tuning couldn't stop the deterioration. We might have reached a Hidden World and might not-but here's Stronghold; why not try it? We faked some papers and the s.h.i.+p's insigne, and the needle to my cheek made me a captain. But the colors weren't right-you saw. So I logged a mutiny attempt by men long dead-and Gonnelsen had to bash me a bruise to hide the difference, along with a fat lip to make it look better." He laughed. "I told him, 'here's your only chance to hit a captain and get away with it, so enjoy yourself!' "

She shook her head. "From anyone else, that story would amaze me."

"Surprises me a little, too, looking back, Rissa. The wine's all gone. Do you-"

"I have had enough for tonight."

"Of everything?"

"No, Bran. Only of the wine."

So he went to her. Again her response began and built, but fell short. Afterward he said, "Still no luck."

"No-but closer, this time. Do not fret, Bran-the fault is not in you but in my past.

With your help I must overcome it."

"I don't know much about your past; maybe you should tell me."

"Yes. But not tonight-if nothing more, we have prepared me well for sleep."

46.THE intercom buzzed; she woke to see sunlight slanting in through the window above her. Bran's voice said, "Yes, what is it?"

"Direct word from Lefthand Thread. They've got what we've been waiting for."

Tregare sat up. "Good! How far out were they, Hain, when they made that transmission?''

"Not sure, Captain. Two weeks, maybe."

"So, less now. Let's see-standard decel-ten days, maybe."

"Right. Do you want to send an answer?"

"Yes. Tell Limmer-I a.s.sume he's still in command-to land at One Point One and refuel, sell off any surplus cargo. He's to deal with Alsen Bleeker as first choice."

"Bleeker? But he's the one, gave us all the trouble!"

"Not any more, Hain. We-you might say we own him now."

Deverel laughed. "If you say so. Any more for Limmer?"

"Just that we'll be talking with him later-and to advise, soon as he knows when he'll be landing."

"Right. I'll get on it." The intercom went silent; Tregare stood and stretched.

"This is good news, Bran?"

"I've had days start a lot worse." He turned to her. "Whoever showers first, the other starts breakfast. Your choice?"

She moved across and clambered out of bed. "I do not yet belong in the kitchen. I smell like a goat."

"All right. Don't take too long or the food'll be overdone."

In the bathroom she made a fast job of it, postponing a shampoo for later, and entered the kitchen still drying herself.

"Am I in time?"

"Sure. I put the eggs on last but the meat's close to done. Just serve mine up with a lid over it." She took the spatula and he moved quickly away. She heard splas.h.i.+ng and what might have been called singing-then he was back, body dried but damp hair dripping. She had already begun eating; he sat, uncovered his plate, and cut himself a bite.

"Not bad. If the s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p business goes bust, we can start a 47.restaurant." She smiled but, mouth filled, did not answer.

Finished, she checked the coffeepot; it was not ready. She walked to the front of the cabin and looked out. The sky was clear. She said, "There are fewer clouds here."

"Yeah. The Big Hills wring most of them out. All year round it's drier on this side."

Now she smelled the coffee, went to pour it, and sat again. "Bran? I would like to take an aircar and cruise about-explore this side of the hills a bit, perhaps take a closer look at the plains below us."

He shook his head. "Not today-sorry. I'm taking a little trip myself. Business. And the other machine's acting up lately -Kenekke tinkers with it when he has the time, but it's still not dependable. Tomorrow all right?"

She hid her irritation. "You do not invite me to join you today?"

"Well, sure-if you want to."

"How soon do you intend to leave?"

"An hour, maybe. Why?"

"That is enough time-I will be ready." Cheerful again, she left the kitchen and washed her hair. He was gone when she came out, and she had time to groom herself leisurely. She was dressed and ready when he returned.

Outside by the aircar, Deverel waited. "Do you want one of us to come with you, skipper, or both stay here?"

"Both stay, I think. Anse hasn't been to Base Two yet, but he doesn't fly aircars-so no use showing him the way until there's something for him to do there.''

"All right. Anything comes in, we'll call on Channel D."

"Good enough." As Deverel walked toward the scout, Rissa and Tregare entered the aircar. He energized propulsion, waited a moment for the indicators to show ready, and took off at a high slant.

"You have not told me where it is we go. Base Two, you said?"

"Yeah. We just left Base One. Two is where s.h.i.+ps can land."

"Your personal s.p.a.ceport, Bran?" She looked out over the falling ridges as the aircar crossed them.

"It's primitive, Rissa. Only the basic repair facilities, and 48.less fuel storage than I'd like. But I needed a place away from One Point One, where s.h.i.+ps could gather."

"And they are gathered?''

He laughed. "Just one-Carcharodon. This morning, on the squawkbox, Vanois accepted my terms and moved across the Hills. Rissa-I have another s.h.i.+p!"

She looked at him until her silence drew his gaze. "I was right long ago-back on Inconnu-was I not? You build yourself a fleet and-I am certain-intend to arm it. Two questions remain."

They dipped low over a ridge; he turned right, to parallel the formation. "Only two?" he said. "I thought there'd be more."

"In detail, perhaps-but basically only two* How many s.h.i.+ps? And where will you take them?"

"You're right." His voice was low. "The rest depends on those two things. Well, then-how many? I don't know yet- and I wish I did, for the matter of where to go depends on how many I can gather."

"Tregare." His look was puzzled; she laughed. "You have your own roles, as I have mine. In whatever home we may have, you are Bran. But as a s.h.i.+p captain, I can know you only as Tregare."

At his nod, she said, "I cannot imagine you building a fleet to attack Far Corner or Terranova or the Twin Worlds. So-is it Stronghold? Or-Earth itself?"

"How the h.e.l.l did you figure that out?" He shook his head. "No, you needn't answer. It's because we think alike, you and I."

"At some times we do. And-"

"Hold it a minute-we're getting close, and I want you to catch the landmarks." He pointed. "The peak we're pa.s.sing -there to the right, with the slant-cut top. Now just past it- the half-circle, almost, that ridge makes? We go up and over it-and there-the flat-bottomed crater, where once a mountain threw its insides up!"

As they descended, she saw that the crater floor's natural flatness had been improved, in places, by artificial grading. At one side near the rim a group of buildings, blank-walled, formed a short arc.

- 49.

Near them stood a s.h.i.+p. At the nose, several plates had been removed and now hung from scaffolding.

"Yes,'' she said, "the insigne reads Carcharodon.''

Tregare landed near the s.h.i.+p, Unbuckling his safety harness, he removed a gun from his jacket and tucked it into a recess beside his seat. "I don't need this, and Vanois is touchy about being trusted, so why annoy him?" Disembarking, Tregare carried only a briefcase.

They were halfway to the s.h.i.+p when a man walked down its ramp to meet them.

"That's Vanois," Tregare said.

The man's appearance surprised her-squat and heavy, with mud-colored skin and hair. The hair and beard were un-trimmed and uncombed. In contrast his clothing appeared clean, was brightly colored and tailored snugly.

"He talks an odd jargon sometimes," Tregare whispered, "but don't let it fool you.

He's smart enough, Vanois is."

"You are the negotiator here. I will follow your lead."

He chuckled. "Sure. Don't forget-I've seen you improvise." Now they neared the ramp; Vanois stepped off it. Tregare said, "h.e.l.lo, Raoul. Ready to sign? But hey-first, meet my wife-Tari Obrigo."

"You does me honor." The man's voice was clear and sweet, like a child's. He shook Tregare's hand, then Rissa's. "It's pleasured, Ms. Obrigo."

"And I, Captain Vanois."

The man turned again to Tregare. "It's to sign, now? Yes. But first you says again the terms."

"For a half share and control, you get the amount we agreed-half in Weltmarks, the other half in equipment, installation, and training. Under my direction you keep s.h.i.+p command and full discretion concerning your own people. I think that's the gist, isn't it?"

Vanois nodded. "You says it same as before. Y'knows-I hates it some, you needing control. But I hasn't the money only to keep going as I has-and maybe not that, the way things is gone. With the guns and all-and when does I get 'em? How long is we got to wait here?" As he talked, Vanois briefly scanned the contracts Tregare had brought, and in large, bold handwriting he signed them. He kept one copy and returned the other two.

50."In-oh, about twelve days-the s.h.i.+p should be here with the stuff. Has to refuel at the port first, as you did. But the wait's not all waste. I see you've got some plates skinned off the nose already-that's good. I've brought blueprints for all the auxiliary work-bulkhead changes, turret mountings and gunners' positions, conduit and power cables-so you can turn your people loose on some of the preliminary changes ahead of time."

"I likes that. Now-does I get you or someones to oversee, and for if I has questions?"

Tregare frowned. "I can't be here myself much, until later -too much else to do. But we have duplicate prints at Base One, and can confer over the viewscreen. If you run into real trouble, which I don't expect, Deverel and Kenekke can look in and help."

"Shoulds be enough. So-blueprints, you says?"

"In here." Tregare held out the briefcase; Vanois took it and began to pull out the thick sheaf of drawings. "No-keep the case, too. It's handier."

"I thanks you." Abruptly he put out his hand, again first to Tregare and then to Rissa.

"Now it's work I needs to do."

He turned away. Rissa said, "Captain Vanois! I-I'd like to ask you about the Shrakken, the aliens at Charleyhorse."

The man's brows lowered until she could hardly see his eyes. He nodded toward Tregare.

When he spoke, his voice was lower and quiet. "All I know, I told him-when we were drinking. I'm not drunk now and don't have time for it-and to talk of those creatures, I need to be." He turned and walked upCarcharodon's ramp.

RISSAlooked after him; Tregare took her arm. "Ready to go? Unless you want to look around here some, we might as well."

"I am ready." They entered the aircar, Rissa leading. "Bran? May I take the controls?"