Confluence

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: EAN LAMBERT

Stellan Vilhjalmsson looked as if he should still have been in a hospital.

“Young Chaudry patched me up well enough,” he said, in answer to Abram’s query. “The medical staff at the station here looked at me as well and pumped me full of drugs. Unfortunately, I need my wits about me, so I can’t take too many painkillers. But I will stand, if that’s okay?”

Abram nodded, but he didn’t sit down either. Nor did Orsaya or Katida. Radko took her normal position over near the wall. Ean perched on the edge of the table.

“Markan must have few people he can trust if he sent you on this mission,” Abram said.

“Not really. I went to investigate a stolen report about line experiments. How important could it be? I was bored sitting around headquarters.”

It even sounded reasonable, but the lines heard evasion.

“He’s not telling the whole truth,” Ean said.

Vilhjalmsson looked at him, then at Abram. “Do we have to have the human lie detector in on this meeting?”

Radko dropped her stance to stand straight. Vilhjalmsson flinched. Ean stood up, too.

“Easy,” Abram said to them both. He smiled at Vilhjalmsson. “In this room or out there, won’t make any difference. He’ll still know.”

“I confess,” Vilhjalmsson said. “I find him rather alarming.”

That was the truth.

“So Markan is worried,” Abram said.

Vilhjalmsson glanced at Ean as he considered his answer. “You know as well as we do the ramifications of Redmond’s choosing to go it alone. They’re only ten worlds, but they have all the line technology for the foreseeable future. And if they’re actively recruiting worlds—as appears the case with this business of the Worlds of the Lesser Gods—it won’t take long for them to become a formidable foe. Especially not if they manage to steal a line ship, which I presume was their plan.”

“I think you were worried about more than that,” Abram said. “You knew Redmond was building ships based on alien technology.”

A tiny spurt of surprise from Vilhjalmsson. Should Ean tell Abram Vilhjalmsson hadn’t known that?

There was none of the blue flash of instant decisions as Abram spoke. He must have thought hard about what he would say to the Gate Union man. Calculated dropping of important information that Vilhjalmsson had to take back to Markan was probably part of the plan.

“You also knew they were building weapons based on alien technology. The destruction of the Kari Wang proved just how far they were prepared to go.”

Vilhjalmsson raised a brow, but that was all the reaction that showed. Underneath, the lines amplified the quickening of his pulse. “Is there a point to this?”

“We want a truce.”

Vilhjalmsson tried to laugh, didn’t fool anyone.

“A temporary truce,” Abram said. “Three months. Time enough for Gate Union to work out what they’re going to do. Time enough for them to decide what to do about Redmond. We both know Gate Union is as vulnerable as the New Alliance is if they can’t get access to new lines.”

Orsaya and Katida were silent. Ean glanced their way. Neither showed any emotion.

“As part of that truce, Gate Union lifts the ban on jumps for three months. Unrestricted jumps for all New Alliance ships. No delays.”

Vilhjalmsson laughed. “You offer three months to think about things we’re already thinking about. Why would we agree?”

“I can also offer you access to Commodore Bach. He’s been working with Redmond for months. He knows who the ringleaders are. He knows the whole plan.”

If Vilhjalmsson said he wasn’t interested, he’d be lying. Ean didn’t need the lines to tell him that. He was more worried about the hum of concern that had come from Katida’s line eight. He wanted to tell her to trust Abram but knew it wasn’t the time.

“And that’s your sweetener?”

Abram nodded. “But I’ll add another. We’ll tell you why we’re looking for failed linesmen.”

That wasn’t going to be a secret for long, anyway. Plus, they needed to know that. Otherwise, they’d take Quinn’s experiments and start destroying more single-level linesmen.

“Offer it to Markan,” Abram said. “See what he says. We have all been caught out by Redmond’s machinations. We both need time to regroup.”

“So you’re more desperate for jumps than even we realize, or there’s something I don’t know.”

“Take our offer to Markan, Vilhjalmsson. See what he says.”

“I do get out of here, then? I thought I was a prisoner.”

Abram smiled. “Organize a jump for me. I’ll take you myself, on the Lancastrian Princess. Somewhere close to Lancia because I need to take Commodore Bach home. And I need a jump back to Haladea III afterward.”

Ean hid his smile. It was clever, and it solved their initial problem. What would Vilhjalmsson say when he found he’d been used to transport Michelle to Lancia to take over as Empress?

“You’ve a nerve, Galenos. Using me to transport your prisoners for you. Not to mention handing me off in enemy territory.”

“Tell me you can’t get passage off Lancia if you need it.”

“Why should I trust you?”

Vilhjalmsson looked at Ean rather than Abram. Ean stared back and tried to look as trustworthy as he could. And as expressionless as Radko.

Vilhjalmsson considered a while. “I’m tired, I’m sore, and I need to report to Markan. I know there’s something I’m missing, but I’ll take the opportunity, anyway. I trust I will get there safely.”

“You will,” Abram said. “I’ll leave you to arrange the jumps then. We’ll give you a secure line.”

Ean nodded. He knew what he had to do.

“Lancastrian Princess,” Orsaya said, frostily, after her guards had escorted Vilhjalmsson away. “That’s quite presumptuous, given all that’s happened these last few days. And taking Bach back to Lancia sounds eerily reminiscent of a recent traitor sent back to the Worlds of the Lesser Gods. We know how well that turned out.”

Abram blew out his breath again. “Personally, I don’t care whether Bach goes or stays. Michelle must go to Lancia.”

The pause after that felt as long as a ship’s passing through the void, and to Ean it seemed he had the same void time to check the other ships.

Governor Jade had arrived on board the Lancastrian Princess. Michelle went down to the shuttle bay to meet her personally. “Annette, I appreciate your coming, especially at such short notice.”

“My own brand of support,” Governor Jade said. “You’re under immense pressure at the moment, Michelle. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thank you. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Before I announce this to the council. But we’ll both need a drink.”

Ean watched Governor Jade’s face as they walked to Michelle’s formal office, the one she seldom used. Jade was bracing herself for bad news.

“Emperor Yu is dead,” Abram said. “He, and Lancia’s military, were working with Redmond and the Worlds of the Lesser Gods.”

Orsaya and Katida stared at him.

“Dead,” Katida said. “Are you sure, Galenos?”

“Very sure. I killed him myself.”

Another void-long silence.

On the Lancastrian Princess, Michelle was telling Governor Jade, “My father is dead. He betrayed the New Alliance, and we had to—” She couldn’t continue.

Jade moved in close and hugged her. “Oh, Michelle.”

Ean could hear Katida’s lines. He expected shock and betrayal. Instead, he heard a wild, singing hope.

“Yu planned to take the alien ships with him,” Abram said. “We had given him enough information to know that if one ship jumped, the others would follow when we didn’t have a seven singing them apart.” He glanced at Ean, and there were smile creases around the corners of his eyes, “Unfortunately for them, they underestimated the impact of line twelve.”

“So Lady Lyan is Empress now,” Katida said.

“If we can get back to Lancia to consolidate it.”

Both admirals finally smiled. The toothy smiles Ean was used to from both of them.

Orsaya’s smile was wider. “Vilhjalmsson won’t be pleased at being your pawn.”

“I think I can offer him enough. If we can negotiate a three-month armistice, we might have a chance at genuine peace between Gate Union and the New Alliance. Our biggest problem right now is the damage Michelle’s father did to Lancia’s credibility within the New Alliance. Do we have any power left to negotiate these things?”

“The old Lancia doesn’t,” Katida said. “The new Empress might.”

“We’ll notify the council,” Abram said. “We also need to inform Lancia. It’s better to do that there rather than from here.”

The buzz of Orsaya’s comms made them all jump. One of the guards stationed at Vilhjalmsson’s door.

“Captain Vilhjalmsson, Admiral.”

Orsaya put it onto speaker.

“I’ve spoken to Markan,” Vilhjalmsson said. “Your jump is in two hours, with a window of one.”

Abram grimaced. “Just enough time to get back to the Lancastrian Princess. I’ll bet that was deliberate.”

He clicked off and turned back to Orsaya and Katida. “We’ll set up an interim ruling committee for Lancia. Until that’s done, we’ll spend some time there, but come back here for council meetings and other items as required.”

“Markan will know he has you over a barrel,” Katida said. “You can’t do it without jumps.”

“I’ll offer him what I can of Yu’s plans. I will also, as a gesture of goodwill, tell Vilhjalmsson about the Emperor before he leaves the ship. Speaking of which”—Abram glanced at the now-silent screen—“we’d best get to the Lancastrian Princess, given the jump window is so small.”

“And while you’re away?” Katida asked. “What happens here?”

“The Department of Alien Affairs will run well enough without me.”

“And the council?”

Abram smiled faintly and looked across at Ean. “There were only ever three Lancastrians the councilors trusted. Now there’s probably only one. Ean, can you make yourself available for any questions or issues the councilors might have? We’ll be back for the council meetings.”

That meant Ean would stay here, on Confluence Station. If Ean wasn’t going on the Lancastrian Princess, Abram would expect to have Fergus as the seven to delink the ships.

“Abram, you should know Fergus is—” How did he put it? “Sore. He stepped in front of a blaster. Although he was wearing his suit.”

“I’m fine,” Fergus told Abram. “A silly mistake on my behalf. Everyone’s told me how stupid I was.” He shuddered. “And Arun Chaudry explained, in detail, exactly how the heat produces the concussive effect.”

“You were lucky,” Abram said. “I’m sure it’s a lesson well learned. Can you sing?”

Fergus sang to line seven. The sevens answered back.

“You’ll do.” Abram took time to give quick instructions to Sale—who’d arrived back on a separate shuttle—before he left. “Ean will explain further, but he will report to you for the moment. Help Radko protect him. He’ll be spending a lot of time talking with councilors. Orsaya has overall control of the linesmen for the moment.”

Katida joined them at the shuttle bay while they waited for Vilhjalmsson.

“I’d love to stay and hear the full story. But I’ve some fires to fight of my own. I’m looking forward to the announcement.” And she rubbed her hands together. “I’ve lost count of the people who’ve said to me, ‘If only we can be sure Lady Lyan truly was in charge, but we can’t.’”

“And now she is.” How different would Lancia be with Michelle in charge? Maybe, for people like Ean, from the slums, there’d be no change at all, but Lancia had a future now. And a place in the New Alliance.

Provided Ean didn’t say anything too stupid.

“You’ll be fine,” Katida said, though he hadn’t said anything. “Be yourself, Ean. That’s all anyone ever requires of you.”

That’s all he could be, so that’s what people were going to get. “What will happen now, do you think? To the New Alliance.”

“We have a future,” Katida said. “And if Galenos can pull another rabbit out of his hat, we’ll have peace, too.”

What exactly was a rabbit, anyway? And why did you pull one out of a hat?

Katida’s shuttle arrived at the next bay. She turned to go, hesitated. “You realize some members of the council will take the opportunity while you are away to push for their own captain for the Confluence.” A strong sense of Admiral Carrell came through the lines. Chocolate, with a bitter aftertaste and a jagged tone.

“It may be no bad thing,” Abram said. “Let them feel they have some control. You should push for it yourself, Katida. A sideways promotion this time. Someone political, like your own Captain Terrigal.”

A song of affront rolled off Katida, strong enough to make Ean step back. “Are you planning to weaken Balian that much? Terrigal will be admiral when I retire. You know that.”

“I do know that,” Abram agreed. “And I approve.”

“So why condemn him to a ship?”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be that way, Katida. Ean seems to think it doesn’t.”

Abram had listened. He had understood.

Katida’s glance at Ean was sharp. “I thought Ean was all for this bonding.”

Ean bit his lip. How did he say it? “The Confluence has already chosen its Ship.”

“I’ll make a deal with you, Katida,” Abram said. “I will support your applicant, Terrigal, provided you and Terrigal support my applicant when Terrigal retires. It will work for both of us. Everyone on the council knows Terrigal is ambitious. Your enemies will be happy to have him out of the way.”

Vilhjalmsson and his escort of Orsaya’s guards turned into the corridor leading to the shuttle bays.

Abram lowered his voice so that the approaching prisoner didn’t hear. “And between us, we might be able to hide the fact that we no longer have any say over who controls the ship.”

Katida’s eyes seemed to see forever. “Sale. It can only be Sale.”

Ean breathed deep and didn’t say anything.

“Imagine it, Katida. Terrigal will be the only admiral who’s ever captained a ship,” and Abram raised his voice to normal levels as he turned to greet Vilhjalmsson.

As both admirals turned to their own shuttle bays, the other line eights caught the echo of Katida’s eight, and amplified it throughout the fleet. “Imagine it.”

“Abram understood,” Ean said to Radko, as they turned to go back to their temporary home on Confluence Station. Or maybe not so temporary for a while.

“Of course he did. He’s Abram Galenos.”

Sale met them halfway. “Did Galenos say what I thought he said? Emperor Yu?”

“He did,” Ean said. “But you shouldn’t say it in words, Sale. Not till they make the announcement. There’s a level-one linesman on the Galactic News ship, and he picks up everything.”

“Now he tells us.”

“I’ll let Galenos know about him. After this other business.” Radko glanced at her comms. “Meantime, I need to talk to Han. Vega says his father is here. They have something to say to each other.”

“We put your team in with the linesmen,” Sale said. “We weren’t sure if we should have put them in with our own or not, but they are linesmen.”

Yves Jaxon Han wasn’t.

“Thanks.”

Radko’s three team members came across as soon as Radko arrived.

“I see what you mean about the singing,” Han said. “They’re all singing.”

They weren’t, but enough of them were that Ean was pleased. There was one group of five, but most of those practicing were individuals, sounding out their new talents. One of them was Alex Joy, the Xanto. He was singing to line three on Confluence Station.

Ean went over to him. “There’s another line trying to talk to you as well.” The scout that had claimed the Xantos for its own. “You should listen and reply. It’s only polite.”

Joy looked at him, listened, then extended his song to include the other line.

The line came back with enthusiasm.

Ean returned to Radko and her team of three.

“How’s it going?” Radko asked them.

“Weird,” van Heel said. “I think they’re all crazy.”

“You’ll be one of those crazies very soon, van Heel, so you’re talking about yourself.” She turned to Han. “A private word with you.”

Han made a face and followed her out. Ean followed. Han frowned at him.

“I go where Ean goes,” Radko said. “Get used to him.” She settled in the corridor, left foot up against the wall. “You have to be honest with your father.”

“It’s kind of hard to—”

Here, Ean could help Radko. “He knows you’re not his birth son, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s being blackmailed by everyone on and off Lancia to keep it a secret. Including Redmond.”

“What?” Han turned to Radko. “You told him?”

“Your father told us,” Ean said. “Talk to him. Tell him to stop letting himself be blackmailed.”

Han walked the rest of the way in silence.

Orsaya’s guards stopped them in the corridor where Renaud’s apartment was. They recognized Ean and Radko and let them through.

Han turned to watch the guards. “Is he a prisoner?”

“The station’s on lockdown,” Ean said.

“For what?”

Mutiny, attempt to steal a fleet of spaceships, crimes against the New Alliance.

“Not in your need to know,” Radko said. She pressed the comms on the door. “Lord Renaud. It’s Dominique Radko. May we come in.”

“Dominique.” Ean tasted the syllables.

“Don’t you ever. Either of you.”

“But you introduced yourself as—”

“He’s a friend of my parents.”

And indeed, he seemed to be, for Renaud, on opening the door, said, “Lady Dominique. It’s a pleasure.” Then he saw Han. His eyes widened. “Yves.”

“Papa.”

Father and adopted son hugged each other, laughing and crying.

Ean and Radko backed away.

“It’s a crying sort of day.” Ean sang the door closed on the Han family, and they made their way back to the control center, and their own people. “How do you feel, Radko? About everything?”

Radko considered it. “Glad to be home,” she said, finally, and slipped her hand into his.

Her fingers were warm, comfortable against his. It felt natural. Ean smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re home, too.”