Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

“Legroeder?”

He blinked, turning.

“Come back.”

He exhaled slowly. “Sorry. What did you say?” He carefully lifted his cup of murk to his lips.

Tracy-Ace angled a curious gaze at him. “I was just wondering—does that view, by any chance, make you think of Impris ?”

Legroeder choked on the thick, black liquid.

“Are you all right?”

He cleared his throat vigorously. “Yes—” he managed “—it does. I don’t, uh, know that much about Impris , actually.” He tried to control the flush in his face. “But I take it—you do?”

“Well, sure, we track it. Or rather, we don’t—but we receive reports on it from time to time from the outpost whose rotation it is to follow it.” She frowned. “Not very clear reports, mind you. If Kilo-Mike/Carlotta weren’t so damned chary with their data, I’d be able to show you its location on a chart.” Mercifully, she did not ask whether or why they did not have such information on Barbados.

He decided to head off the question anyway. “Really. I’ve always been interested in the ship—Flying Dutchman of the Stars, and all that—but I was never privy to that sort of information.”

“Bosses,” Deutsch interjected in a pleasant baritone. “Half of them won’t give you the information you need. And then they complain when you don’t get the job done right.”

Tracy-Ace eyed Deutsch with an unreadable expression. “Careful, there, Rigger Deutsch. You never know what a boss might hear.” Her cheekbone implants blinked. “Still, you do have a point. Some bosses delegate responsibility better than others. Certainly the bosses of different outposts do things in their own ways.”

// Shall we fill you in on that? //

Legroeder nodded as the internal voice provided details. The outposts of the Free Kyber Republic were joined in a loose confederation of worlds and fortresses—each with its distinctive culture and bosses. Each stronghold made its contribution to the group goals, such as the colonizing fleet; but rancorous disagreement was more common than not. The bosses made their own rules, treated their own people as they chose, and determined such things as when or how to raid Centrist shipping. Some gave their captains near-complete autonomy, with reward systems for bringing in booty such as captured ships and slaves. Others exercised tight control…

“Legroeder, are you listening? ”

“Uh—yes.”

“I was talking about Impris . You said you were interested.”

“Yes. You say someone tracks her all the time?”

Tracy-Ace peered at him closely, which made him nervous. “Theoretically, someone keeps a ship in her vicinity at all times—though when the rotation changes from one outpost to another, things can go to hell pretty fast. She’s been lost more than once.”

Legroeder stared at her, wishing he had this conversation recorded.

// You do. //

He bobbed his head, trying not to show any reaction. “Why the, uh—rotation?” he asked, trying to sound guileless. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

Tracy-Ace shrugged. “It’s hardly a secret. When Impris is in a participating boss’s territory, she makes a powerful bait for drawing in passing ships. It makes for such an easy kill.” She shook her head in apparent disdain. “Especially when the captains of the target ships are on the take, as has happened more than once.”

Legroeder thought of Hyutu, captain of the L.A .

“I never thought it was very sporting, myself,” she added. “But some of the bosses love it so much they fight over whose turn it is—especially since Impris seems to hopscotch around a lot, for reasons I don’t personally understand.”

Legroeder stared at her, blood pulsing, wishing he could be standing in court on Faber Eridani right now, listening to Tracy-Ace repeat all of this under oath. He tried not to let his voice tremble. “Do you know anything about the ship itself? Her crew? Her passengers?”

Tracy-Ace gave her head a shake. “As far as I know, there’s never been any contact. It’s hard to imagine that anyone’s alive on her, though. After all these years?”

Hard to imagine, maybe. But they are alive. I heard their voices, crying out. It was no illusion. I know what I heard . Legroeder swallowed, then said hesitantly, “Would you mind if I—researched the subject a little, while I’m here? It’s a sort of… well, hobby, I guess you could call it.” A hobby? Christ .

As Tracy-Ace raised her eyebrows, Deutsch began to stir. Was he uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation, warning Legroeder to back off?

Deutsch pushed himself back from the table. “If you would excuse me—” a sharp glance in Legroeder’s direction seemed to confirm Legroeder’s fear “—I’m just about due for a meeting with my crew chief. Miss Alfa, thank you for bringing me here. Legroeder, it’s good to see you. If you need me, just use my name on the com system.”

Legroeder raised a hand in farewell as Deutsch floated away on his levitators. You’re on your own again. Be careful . If only he knew what being careful meant.

Tracy-Ace was also gazing after Deutsch. “We have to find a place for him. Not routine flights, not after what he’s been through. He did a remarkable job under the circumstances.”

“Yes, he did,” Legroeder said uncomfortably. He looked down and realized that the food in front of him was cold.

“Try the bread,” Tracy-Ace said, spreading some syrup on a piece of her own. “It’s pretty good.” She tucked it into her mouth and chewed quickly.

Legroeder toyed with the bread and nibbled a piece. It was tasteless. “Yah. Listen—um—” The discussion of Deutsch had wrenched another subject to mind, one he’d been avoiding. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about. What are you—I mean, what’s going to happen to the Narseil crew?”

The augments lit up at the corners of Tracy-Ace’s eyes. “What do you think we should do with them?”

“Well, I don’t—I mean, I—”

Her eyes hardened momentarily. “It has been suggested that we put them out an airlock. They cost us heavily in that battle.”

Legroeder felt his face turn pale. He remembered the dream…

“I didn’t say I was taking the suggestion, though,” Tracy-Ace said. She looked away, stroking her cheek in thought, then glanced back at him. “I get the feeling that you got to be pretty good friends with some of the Narseil during your time together…” She raised her eyebrows.

Legroeder shrugged, but his throat tightened.

“It would be surprising if you hadn’t,” Tracy-Ace pointed out. “I was thinking, you might be able to smooth the way to getting some information from them.” Her eyes changed expression, but he still couldn’t tell what the expression was . “We would be foolish to waste all that knowledge and talent, after all. And whatever else my boss is, he isn’t foolish.”

Legroeder nodded uneasily. “Then, I take it… it’ll be your boss who makes the decision about the Narseil?”

Tracy-Ace cocked her head quizzically.

“You know, they were just—fighting for their ship—and their people,” Legroeder said, and instantly regretted blurting it out like that.

“That is true,” Tracy-Ace said. “It remains to be seen just what their fate will be—and how the decision will be made.” She frowned. “I think you just need to trust me on this.”

Trust her? Could he?

“Did you get the message I sent you last night? If you weren’t on the com in your sleep?”

“Uh—”

She glanced carefully around before continuing. “There are people who are interested in talking to the Narseil. Important people—who are interested in seeing some changes.”