Eric Flint - The Sorceress of Karres

Watch me, thought Goth. But he'll be able to deal with worms like you himself, any day. But she kept this to herself and waited. Pausert emerged, wary and fists balled, a few minutes later.

It did not take Goth very long to penetrate Pausert's armor. He was naturally gregarious, and liked to talk. And, well, she knew him. The most difficult thing was not to give that away. But, sitting on the rails of one of Nikkeldepain's many iron bridges, swinging their legs over the water, in compete contravention of the sign telling them not to, she heard the story of most of his life to date.

The surprising thing was just how little of it she had learned in all the time that they had spent together on the Venture. He'd obviously made the decision to put all of this behind him. And it wasn't really surprising.

"-and so he's still MIA. Mother says they think he deserted. She says that's impossible."

Father lost after a minor skirmish on an otherwise routine patrol. His one-man scout ship never found. He was assumed to have fled the scene and dumped the ship somewhere.

The Imperial navy stopped paying his salary.

And then things got worse.

They'd come back to Nikkeldepain.

"Mother had an offer of a job at the xenobiological Botany Institute." Pausert kicked the rails. "She's a xeno-botanist and a plant pathologist. They really need her, but they are not a lot of other people who do, here on Nikkeldepain. Like, they don't need me either."

"Nonsense," said Goth. "But why did you even come back to Nikkeldepain? There are xeno-botany places inside the Empire. There's one in the capital, and one on Green Galaine. There must be lots of them."

Pausert shrugged. "Probably. But mom had inherited the house. Seeing as my father is looked on almost like a traitor or something in the Empire military, I suppose she wanted to get out of there. And she had a house and job offer here. Only when we got here, that's when things got really complicated. See, the law around here says that your heirs also inherent your debts. And it seems like great-uncle disappeared owing a few people some money. Not a lot by his standards maybe. Nothing much against the estate. But a lot of money for us."

"I don't really understand these things," said Goth. "But don't they just sell off his property, and pay people?" She was vaguely horrified that her Captain Pausert should have ended up in clothes that were plainly a little too small for him, because his mother was paying off Threbus's debts.

"The law here is a bit odd about that, Mom says," said Pausert. "They are not allowed to take more than the estate is worth from the heir, but they don't have to wait until the whole thing is wrapped up. And it can't be wrapped up, because the Nikkeldepain Office of Records refuses to declare great-uncle dead."

Goth knew a moment of righteous indignation. Of course her father wasn't dead! That was followed by pragmatic realization, that, for Karres's sake he had set things up to look like he was.

"So, um, what is happening?" asked Goth

Pausert kicked the bridge railing angrily. "Nothing. We spend more of the money we haven't got on lawyers who don't do anything. I go to school, mother goes to work. And things just go on the same way. Sorry. Enough. I shouldn't have even told you about it. It's our problem. So what are you doing here? "

Goth hadn't thought much about that part of her story yet. "I'm going to be going to your school," she announced. It was sudden decision-and a tall story-but better than anything else she could think of right now.

It did at least serve to distract him. "You are?" He smiled, and the smile chased the gloomy expression off his face. "It's a good school. But you better not tell anyone that you know me. I'm not too popular."

"Huh. Too late," said Goth, grinning. "So, tell me about it?" He did. And talking of school successfully steered the subject away from Goth's own back history. She really would have to think about that. She was also going to have to do something about the mess that the local law had made of Captain Pausert's life as a young man. There was no doubt that it was an appalling mess. And yet, somehow it must have all come right in time for him to go to the Space-Naval Academy. Goth was willing to bet that she had had something to do with it. She just wished she knew what it had been. That would have saved her having to work out what it would be! Time travel was needlessly confusing.

Here in the Chaladoor, Captain Pausert was finding out the hard way just how intrinsic Goth had become to the running of the ship. Yes, there was still old Vezzarn. The old spacer was an experienced hand, and these days the captain felt that he could trust him. But he lacked Goth's incisive decision-making. The experiences they'd been through had made Goth aware of what dangers actually were, and when it was wise to wake the captain. Vezzarn… the experiences seem to have made him timid instead! "There are too many strange things I really don't understand, Captain," he said. "I reckon that it's best to leave that sort of deciding to you. Or to the little Wisdoms," he said referring to the Karres witches by their Uldune honorific. "Only, well, better if it's Missy Dani, uh Goth."

That was all too true. The Leewit had grown a great deal since her sister had left her here on the Venture. But she still was some years younger. And, unlike Goth, the Leewit did not wake easily, or in a good temper! The end result was that the captain was getting very little sleep, and what he was getting was being interrupted all too often. Besides that, he just missed having Goth talk to. They'd been companions now for some time. To his shock Pausert realized that it was heading on for a good year or two since the incident on Porlumma-hard to say exactly!

He tried to quiz the Leewit on just where Goth had got to. But on that subject he might as well have tried to ask the bulkheads questions. The Leewit could stonewall with the very best. And she could fend off too much questioning with a threat of a few of her shattering whistles. That was enough to stop him asking.

Besides, he had a lot on his plate. The trip had had far more encounters than he expected, and something, he found, was bothering him. It felt as if they were being watched. Maybe even manipulated. He was tired, off-balance, stressed, and missing his familiar helper. But that did not stop the captain noticing that there was a certain pattern to the incidents. He talked about it with both the Leewit and Vezzarn, in one of the relatively rare times when all three of them were awake at the same time. One couldn't just leave the ship running on automatic in the Chaladoor, as they might have in the empty areas of Imperial space, relying on the detectors and alarms-which meant watches.

"I'm beginning to feel as if something is trying to herd us," he said tiredly. "We've just had to change course again. Not only is this adding quite a lot to our trip time but it is beginning to worry me. It's almost as if these attacks are being orchestrated. But even sub-radio doesn't work reliably here in the Chaladoor-not without repeaters. That means the best anyone trying to track us could do would be shorter range. And that implies a lot of co-ordination, and a lot of ships. Unless of course they have some kind of leech or tracker on us. And we made sure of that not being the case, after last time!"

"Or else we've some pretty fast enemies," said the Leewit. "Maybe we should not run next time. Shoot them up and ask questions later." The Leewit loved her work on the nova guns, even if they were erratic, old and rather dangerous-even after the very best of the Daal's armorers had serviced and refurbished them.

It was a tempting idea, Captain Pausert had to admit.

Vezzarn shuddered. "In the Chaladoor it always feels like it is out to get you, Captain. But even the Agander would have struggled to organize something like this. I think this must be more witchy stuff, Captain. I reckon we better cut and run."