George Martin - Aces High

"Captain." He thrust out his hand. "I owe you an apology."

"Uh… me, man?"

"Yes." Tach seized the man's limp hand, and gave it a hearty shake. "I doubted your story. In fact, I thought you a harmless lunatic. But you are an ace. And a most unusual one at that. These potions?"

"Help me call my friends."

He stepped in close, and lowered his voice. "And I don't suppose you have any more…" He winked, and Trips stared blankly down at him. Tach sighed. Nice, the man might be, but he wasn't precisely quick on the uptake. "Have you any more secreted about your person?"

"Oh no, man. It takes a long time to make this stuff, and I didn't think I'd be running into aliens. I mean, we beat the Swarm, and I didn't expect… I'm really sorry, man. I didn't mean to let you down…"

"No, no. You couldn't have known, and you did very well." The Captain beamed, and Tach realized, with an overwhelming sense of failure and unworthiness, that this man adored and admired him.

And I'm going to fail him.

Tach crossed to the bed, and slumped down, his hands hanging limply between his thighs. Trips, with a sensitivity that the alien hadn't expected, crossed to the other side of the room, and left him alone with his miserable thoughts. Sometime later there was a tentative touch on his shoulder. "Excuse me, man, I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering, like, how much longer until you got us.. ." He broke off, and splotches of red suffused his long face. "See, I got this little girl, and she's probably home from school by now, and the shop will be closing, and I'm afraid Susan won't stay with her, and Sprout's, like, not able to take care of herself " His long fingers twisted desperately through each other.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could do something. I wish I was the leader everyone thinks I am. But I'm not. I'm a fraud, Trips, both among my own people and among yours." The gangling hippie laid an arm across Tach's shoulders, and he leaned his head against the bony support of Trips's shoulder.

Trips gave a mournful shake of his head. "It's not like it is in the comics. In the comics the good guys always win. They've always, like, got the right power at the right time."

"Unfortunately life doesn't work that way. I'm very tired."

"Why don't you sleep awhile. I'll keep watch."

Tach wanted to ask him "Against what?" but he appreciated the generosity that had sparked the offer, and remained quiet. He kicked off his shoes, and Trips tenderly pulled a coverlet up to his chin.

He realized muzzily, as sleep claimed him, that he had always used bed and booze as an escape, and today he had used both. The right power at the right time. The thought nagged at the edges of his consciousness. The right power"By the Ideal!" He shot bolt upright, and kicked away the coverlet.

"Hey, what, man?"

He clutched feverishly at the lapels of Trips's coat. "I'm an idiot. An idiot. The answer's been right in front of me, and I missed it."

"What?"

"The Network device."

"Huh?"

Andami was regarding him curiously, and Tach quickly dropped to a whisper. "It's not a bowling ball. It's a singularity shifter." He hurriedly slipped his feet into his pumps. "Years ago, before I left home, one of the Master Traders discussed the possibility of selling my clan a new experimental teleporting device. He demonstrated one, and said they might become readily available after a few more tests. This has to be one of those devices. And it's in the main: hold."

Trips was completely bewildered by his babblings. He grabbed for the only remark he had understood. "Yeah, but we're, like, not in the main hold."

"How to get us all there?" Tach's fingers scrabbled in his hair. "If we're all together, I think I could trigger the device and send us home. The greater the telepathic ability, the greater accuracy, and the size of. what can be carried. That was the theory. Of course the Master Trader could have just been puffing. Hard to tell with the Network. They have the souls of greedy tradesmen."

"Uh.. what's the Network?"

"Another spacefaring race, actually a number of spacefaring races, but we don't have to concern ourselves with that. The point is that a singularity shifter is here, on this ship, and it can get us home. Of course if Turtle had the device, that means the Network is present on Earth, and that could mean trouble." He scrubbed at his face. "No, one problem at a time. How to get to the hold."

"Like, what goes on there?"

"Well, obviously it's used for cargo storage, and when there's no cargo-which is 'most of the time, on a ship of this class-it's used for recreation. Dances and so forth."

Trips looked dubious. " I don't suppose we can invite everybody to a dance."

Tach laughed. "No." His expression went flat. "But we can invite them to a duel."

"Huh?"

"Hush a moment. I must think on this."

And he finally did what he should have done from the beginning. He thought like a Takisian instead of like an Earthman.

"Got it?" Trips asked when he again opened his eyes. "Yes."

He lay back down, and probed for a familiar mind. Turtle. There's a way out of this.

Yeah? The mental tone was one of utter defeat and hopelessness.

The device you had, it can send you home. Yeah, but it's-

Just shut up, and listen. We're all going to be in the cargo bay-

Why?

Would you stop! Because I'm going to get us there. The attention will be on me, and while it is you must get that device.

Now?

You know how. I can't!

Tom, you must! It's our only hope.

It's not possible. The Great and Powerful Turtle could do it, but I'm just Thomas Tudbury-the Great and Powerful Turtle.

No, I'm just an ordinary man who's on the wrong side of forty, drinks too much beer, doesn't eat right, and who works at a fucking electronics repair shop. I'm no fucking hero.

You are to me. You gave me back my sanity and probably my life.

That was the Turtle.

Tom, the Turtle is a conglomeration of iron plates, TV cameras, lights, and speakers. What makes Turtle, Turtle is the man inside. You're the ace, Tom, it's time to come out of the shell.

Terror was coming off the man's mind in powerful waves, battering at Tach's shields, making him doubt his own plan. I can't. Leave me alone.

No, I'm going through with this, and you're going to have to come up to scratch, because if you don't, I will have died for nothing.

Died! What do you…

He broke the telepathic link wondering if he might have put too much pressure on Turtle's- fragile emotions. Too late to worry about it now.

Kibr?

What, boy?

We find your tone to be less than pleasing, Ajayiz'et Benaf'saj.

She moderated her tone, adding a formal overlay of respect, if not for him, at least for his position. What is it you wish, clan head?

Summon the crew, there is a ceremony of adoption to be observed.

What trick are you up to?

Wait and see, or deny me, and be forever curious, he said impudently.

Her laughter glittered in his mind. A challenge. Very well, my little prince, we will see just what it is you are up to.

They had all gathered in the bay. Tom looked about, and let out an anguished cry, "My shell!"

Zabb's lips skinned back in a harsh smile. "We jettisoned it. It was taking up far too much room."

Tach paid little attention to Turtle's distress. His eyes roved quickly about the room ascertaining that the singularity shifter was still in its place.

"It had infrared and zoom lenses, and tuck-and-roll upholstery, and-" Zabb laughed. "You puke!"

Zabb stepped forward, fist upraised.

"Zabb brant Sabina sek Shaza sek Risala, touch my stirps, and I will not give you the courtesy of facing me. I will kill you like a cur in the street." Zabb froze, and turned slowly to face his small cousin.