Дэймон Найт - Orbit 4

“Please, Miss Grimm, not here!” Ked Maccioso leaned forward tensely, at the same time glancing around the tavern. Svir’s domain of attention expanded. He realized that now the Arbor was crowded, the dance floor overflowing, and the jongleurs in fine form on their resonation platform. Tatja’s presence had made him completely unaware of the changes.

Grimm nodded to the heavy ship’s captain. “I suppose you’re right, Ked.” She turned back to the astronomer. “When were you planning to return to The Continent, Svir?”

Return? Then Svir remembered the lie he had told them. But he couldn’t reveal his fraud to her now. He wanted, needed, the interest Tatja was showing him.

“I sail tomorrow for Bayfast.”

“Would you like to come on the Tarulle Barge? It’s slower than hydrofoil, but we’ll get you there just the same.”

“I certainly would.” The words came spontaneously, but he felt no desire to retract them. Imagine sailing off with a beautiful, famous girl—into adventure. His previous reality seemed pale indeed beside these prospects.

“Why don’t you come out to Barge with us tonight? We’ll show you around.” She looked straight into his eyes. The men with her watched carefully, too. They couldn’t talk here.

“Okay.” Svir set Ancho on his shoulder. They all stood up and worked their way to the door. The music and party sounds faded as they descended the ancient stone stairs that led from Highrock to the wharves of the Krir-sarque harbor.

Soon Maccioso was paddling them out to sea. Apparently the landing was a secret. It was well into the night sleep period and no other craft were moving. A breeze swept across the water, splashed luminescing algae into the boat.

Half an hour passed. No one spoke. Ancho shivered quietly, fearful of the water. They left the glowing waters of the harbor behind. It was quite cloudy, so even the light of Seraph was denied them. Gradually Svir convinced himself that there was a greater darkness on the water ahead of them. And then he was sure. The huge pile of the Tarulle Publishing Barge rose tier upon tier out of the ocean. Beside it floated the smaller forms of scout hydrofoils. All were without lights.

They pulled over to the hulk, and a group of company sailors pulled the little boat into a freight bay. A section leader saluted Maccioso. She said, “XO’s compliments, sir, and no exterior activity noted.”

Maccioso returned the salute. “Have him take us out past the shelf.”

Svir was escorted up a long corridor, into the heart of the vessel. They entered a luxurious, brightly-lit room. Just the maintenance of the algae pots must cost several man-hours a day. The five seated themselves around a table, on which was fastened a detailed map of Bayfast, the capital of Crownesse.

“This must all seem a bit melodramatic, Svir,” said Tatja, “but Tar Benesh has an efficient spy system extending from Crownesse on The Continent all the way to the Osterlei Archipelagate. The Regent is ambitious without limit. He—”

Ancho began nibbling at the map. As Svir pulled him back, the animal keened an almost inaudible whistle. For an instant everyone in the room felt stark terror. Then Hedrigs patted the little animal, and the dorfox relaxed. The feeling of panic disappeared. Ancho turned his large eyes toward Hedrigs as if to ask forgiveness.

Tatja smiled shakily. “Tar Benesh is also an extremely intelligent, capable individual. And he is—mad. Or perhaps he is just alien. Some rumors hint that he is actually a Wildman from the center of The Continent.

“Since he came to power twenty years ago, he has been a collector of Fantasie. And to enhance the value of his wealth, we believe that he sabotaged other collections.”

“We know for a fact that he has destroyed other collections,” Rey Guille interrupted.

“Every five years, Benesh holds the Festival of the Ostentatious Consumption. You may have heard of it—”

Svir gulped. “You’re not trying to tell me that the Fantasie collection is going to be one of the sacrifices?”

Tatja nodded her head slowly, “Yes, that’s it exactly. The Festival is scheduled to begin ten days from now. We plan to arrive in Bayfast on the night wake period of the Consumption.” She gestured to the map of the Bay fast area, and the detailed floor plans of Tar Benesh’s Keep. “I can’t go over the details of the plans now, but we are going to try to save that collection. Our magazine has the unconditional backing of the entire Tarulle Company,” she nodded at Maccioso, “in this venture. It’s not going to be easy. But I think we could succeed if we had Ancho’s help. And we need you too. You know Ancho best, and can persuade him to cooperate.”

Svir glanced down at the little mammal, who sat licking his paws, unaware of the plans being made for him. “Yes,” the astronomer answered, “dorfoxes are strange that way. They will answer to only one master at a time. And no one can predict exactly when they will change loyalties.”

“Svir, this will be dangerous. But we need you. And some of the stories Benesh has, exist nowhere else. Will you come with us and help?” She was pleading.

Hedrigs suddenly realized what he was being asked to do. He could get killed—and all for some magazines. Before now he had been uneasy at the mere thought of traveling to Ctownesse, and now he was going to risk his life in a plot against the government of-that country. Some sensible element within him was screaming No—no—no! But he saw the pleading in Tatja’s eyes. “Yes,” he quavered, then continued more strongly, feigning confidence, “I’ll be glad to do anything I can.”

“Wonderful!” said Tatja. She stood up. “Now I’m sure you’ll want to go ashore and get your stuff together. Ked will have a boat take you back.” The group left the room and walked toward the outer hull. About halfway there, Tounse and Guille left them for the typeset area. The walk gave Svir time for some heart-stopping second thoughts. He had a vivid imagination and it was working overtime now. Ancho responded uneasily to his fright, moving nervously on his neck.

They reached the landing bay, and Maccioso went off to get a crew. Tatja turned to Svir. She grasped his hand gently and moved close. “Thank you, Svir. I want to save that collection very much. But I think I want to see you again even more. You’ll be back tomorrow, won’t you?”

She slipped her arms around him. He felt her body against him, her lips against his. His fears and half-conscious plans to junk the whole project were erased. He would be back.

It was well past midmorning. Hedrigs stood, with Ancho on his shoulder, at the edge of the false deck which reinforced the Barge’s bowform. Tatja had said she’d meet him here and take him on a tour.

The Tarulle Barge was especially impressive by day. Over the centuries, it had grown helter-skelter. New barge platforms had been added and built upon—then built over again, until the mass resembled nothing so much as a man-made mountain of terraces, cupolas, and cranes. The top offices and printshops were of spun glass —the most modem construction material. The bottommost members of the Barge were moldering timbers three hundred years old. From the top of the mainmast to the bottom of the lowest hold was almost three hundred feet.

Now the huge filmy sails were close-hauled as the Barge tacked in the thirty-mile Monsoonal Drag that blew steadily off The Continent.

Hedrigs grabbed the terrace rail to steady himself in the wind. Just looking up at those masts was enough to make him dizzy. He turned his attention to the ocean and the whitecapped waves that stretched out to the horizon. In winds like this, the sailing hydrofoils were at top efficiency, getting up to almost fifty miles an hour. Two Company scouts cut through the farther waters as they sailed out to minor ports of the Chainpearl Archipelagate.