Kevin Anderson - The Ashes of Worlds

He still felt nervous that she had gone to the Hansa by herself. BeBob had wanted to go along, but Rlinda had laughed at him. “I’m the Confederation’s Trade Minister. I can take care of myself — but I’m not lettingyou anywhere near that planet. It was enough trouble breaking you out of EDF prison in the first place.” He had lost his ship, and they had lost Davlin Lotze in the process.

BeBob had every confidence in Rlinda Kett. He just wished she could be here for the launch. He had his first delivery mission already on the books, and he could set off at any time.

Toying with the external controls, he opened the main entry hatch. The boarding ramp hummed out smoothly, all tracks perfectly oiled. Bright panels lit the ship’s interior. He could smell the polymers of the control deck, freshly welded compartments, polished doors, and soft upholstery.

Poking his head back out again, he saw a curly-haired Roamer man enter the chamber. “Sorry I’m late, Captain Roberts,” Kotto Okiah said. “I see you’ve begun the inspection already.”

“Everything’s fine.” BeBob ran his hand along the inner hull. “Hand over the keys and I’ll take my ship out for a shakedown cruise.”

“Keys? We don’t use keys anymore. I have your access codes and authorization — ”

BeBob held up a hand. “Just kidding. An archaic reference.”

“I should have caught that.” Kotto looked around. “Would you like us to schedule an official ceremony later on, when things settle down? There’s just so much going on here.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” BeBob said, though he didn’t mean it. “If you’re going to wait until things settle down, we’ll have to send out invitations to my grandchildren.”

“You know, of course, about all the Llaro refugees that just came back? Someone wanted to see you. It seems you have friends among them.”

“I don’t remember anyone from Llaro — ” BeBob turned as more visitors entered the bay. He recognized a skinny old man with grayish-white hair and unkempt clothes and a young girl with short brown hair and large sepia eyes, accompanied by a Friendly compy. “Orli! Orli Covitz — and Hud Steinman!” He had rescued the two from Corribus, the only survivors of the black robot attack. “What were you two doing on Llaro?”

“Being chased by bugs, mostly,” Orli said. “Is that a new ship? Doesn’t look at all like the old one.”

“Forget the battered old vessel. Now everything’s shiny. The engines and power systems purr instead of clatter.” Grinning, he gestured to the ramp. “Step aboard my newBlind Faith.”

Orli trotted up to the control deck and poked around with a fascinated expression. “Maybe I can be your copilot or first officer someday.”

When BeBob saw she was serious, he realized that he could do worse. “I’ll think about it. Hey, I was about to take a test flight with a load of supplies for Relleker, and I wouldn’t mind the company. Want to come along? Sounds like we’ve got plenty of stories to exchange.”

“What do you think, DD?” Orli asked. The Friendly compy, obviously pleased to be with her and away from the Klikiss, seemed perfectly amenable.

“Wewould like that,” said Mr. Steinman. The old man glanced around the rock-walled landing bay in which the ship rested. “We don’t have anything better to do. Might as well make ourselves useful.”

17

Rlinda Kett

Though she had changed her call sign and obscured the ship’s name with a strategically applied scorch mark on the hull, Rlinda never stopped calling her ship theVoracious Curiosity. However, she took care to avoid any unwanted EDF entanglements.

Her ship carried a profitable cargo of comfort items that people facing austerity and rationing would very much welcome: preserved foods, jungle delicacies from Theroc, difficult-to-obtain cocoon-weave fabrics, thermal-resistant equipment from Constantine III. The Hansa simply couldn’t get such things anymore.

However, since Chairman Wenceslas had imposed extreme wartime tariffs, she would never enter into a formal agreement with Earth’s industries and merchants. Rlinda would find her own customers through unofficial channels, thank you very much. She still had plenty of black-market connections, and she could get her goods into the hands of customers who needed and appreciated them.

As theCuriosity passed the Moon and headed in toward Earth orbit, she was surprised to see a large, dark Ildiran warliner being towed into position above the lunar base. “What the hell is the EDF doing with an intact warliner?” Maybe it was better if she didn’t know.

Calling no attention to herself, she began weaving in among the orbital traffic. TheCuriosity flew in stealthily. Rlinda cut her transmissions and kept a low reflective profile on any surveillance networks. She mixed in with local ships and sent a burst signal so that her contacts would know what items she had to trade and what her asking price was.

“Sneaking around like an illegal smuggler,” she muttered to herself. “Ah, the glamorous life of the Confederation’s Trade Minister.”

That afternoon, settled in, Rlinda waited on an uncomfortable wrought-metal chair out in the sunshine. The wafting aroma of dark-roasted coffee beans gave the cafe a pleasant atmosphere, though she was annoyed at having paid vastly too much for a cup of coffee. Rlinda had the equipment to make herself a better one in theCuriosity ’s galley.

Outside in the tiled square, a group of white-painted mimes — of all things! — had begun a performance, wearing garish costumes and using exaggerated motions. Their silly pratfalls garnered chuckles from the few passersby who stopped to watch. The mimes were all playing characters, and Rlinda realized with a start that they were meant to be King Peter, the Archfather of Unison, and the Hansa Chairman. She doubted many other people recognized what the mimes were doing, but their political leanings were clear from the noble nature of the King, the inept buffoonery of the religious leader, and the sheer evil of the Chairman. She watched, newly impressed, and wondered how many other quiet symptoms of rebellion were manifesting themselves on Earth.

She heard an astonished, but carefully hushed woman’s voice. “What are you doing here?”

Rlinda turned. Her guest had arrived. “Hello, Sarein. I wasn’t sure you’d get my invitation.”

The Theron ambassador had disguised herself in plain Earth clothes with no traditional garments or any mark of her political position. “Are you supposed to be here? Are you allowed?”

“Of course not, but I couldn’t let that stop me. Sit down.” Rlinda lowered her voice, maintaining a scandalized tone. “I hope you brought your Hansa budget authorization. The coffee here is very expensive.”

Sarein stood motionless. She looked around, suspecting a trap. “There’s probably a warrant out for your arrest. I’m sure Basil hasn’t rescinded it.”

“Relax, Sarein.” Rlinda drummed her fingers on the edge of the table. “It’s just me. We’ve known each other a long time. Now pleasesit down. People are going to stare if you keep standing there like that.”

That was all the other woman needed to hear, and with a quick, compact movement she slid into a chair and sat across the table from Rlinda. After ordering an iced tea for herself, Sarein leaned forward and whispered, “How did you send me that message? It wasn’t traceable.”

“It wasn’t threatening, either, so I hoped you might be intrigued enough to come.”

“Even though I’m one of the few people Basil still trusts, he’s always monitoring me.”

“Well, why don’t you just leave him?” Rlinda set her meaty elbows on the table. “If you’re afraid of a man, he’s not worth staying with.”

“I’m not stayingwith him, but I can’t leave. Not now. It wouldn’t be right.”