For Love and Glory

XVII

The ship sprang to a known part of space. There she coasted while Noel, Elif, and Tessa practiced in free fall. Violet and rose, a nebula phosphoresced across a fourth of heaven. Through its laciness gleamed fierce points of light, new-born giant suns, and the coals that were stars still forming. Oh, no lack of wonders whereon to sharpen skills!

Given intelligence and healthy reflexes, most people soon learned how to handle their weightless bodies. Precision work was the hard thing to master. It began with always, automatically, making sure that objects would stay where you left them. Over and over and over, Lissa put her pupils through the drill, explained, chided, encouraged, demonstrated, guided. Then followed assignments in partnership with the three robots. Who knew but that the multiple manipulators and ship-linked but individual intelligences of Uno, Dos, and Tres would be needed?

“Time for lunch,” she said wearily. “Meet again in half an hour. You’re doing quite well. In fact, you no longer require me to hector you.”

“Why, Sergeant Major, you sound downright human,” Elif japed.

Lissa laughed. “I have reason. I won’t be here, next session. Seriously, I am pleased. Keep on as hard as you have been, get your efforts a little better coordinated, and we’ll be in shape to fight mad tax collectors.”

Their friendship felt like a warmth at her back as she left. Yes, she had driven them hard, but they realized why. House Windholm’s clients knew that it traditionally expected more of its patrons than it did of them.

The whole cosmos was warm and bright. Flying down the corridors, Lissa whistled that bawdy old ballad “Two Lovers in Two Spacesuits.”

She assumed Esker would be at a rec screen, whether to play three-dimensional go against the ship or watch one of the loud, flashy musical shows he’d put in the library database. He wasn’t, though. She inquired, “He is in the electronics shop,” Dagmar told her.

“What’s he want there?” Lissa wondered aloud.

Hitherto, she wouldn’t have gotten a reply. The ship’s capabilities weren’t for crewfolk to spy on each other. Valen had lately directed that she have the same full access as himself. It was just a gesture, impulsive, scarcely significant, but endearing. She’d forgotten, and felt surprise at first when Dagmar said, “He appears to be writing a program. I cannot tell for certain, because he is using a personal computer he brought along, unconnected to my systems, and his body blocks the keyboard and display from my sensors. Do you wish a visual?”

“No, no. I only have to talk with him. I’ll go in person.” Lissa set off.

Already competent in zero gravity, he hunched at the middle of the compartment, legs wrapped around a stanchion, machine geckofooted to his lap. It was a mini, useful enough when something more powerful wasn’t available. He started when she entered and slammed the cover shut. She smiled. “Hullo,” she greeted. “What are you up to?”

He swallowed. “An, uh, experimental procedure. I don’t want to show it to anybody till it’s finished.”

“Why not use Dagmar’s systems? You’d finish in a tenth the time, not counting blind alleys that that gimcrack may let you wander into.”

He flushed, then paled. How haggard he had grown, these past several watches. And solitary, silent. She almost missed his waspishness. “I don’t choose to! When my program’s ready, when I’m satisfied, I’ll put it in the network.”

And if it’s a failure, there’ll be no record of it. Nobody will ever know, not even the ship. You poor, forlorn devil.

Best avoid the subject. “As you like. I’m afraid you’ll have to set it aside and rejoin your team, at 1230 hours.”

He glared. “Why?”

“They’re ready to practice with you.”

“And where will you be?” After a pause: “Milady.”

“Elsewhere.” It tingled through her skin. “I’ve given them their basic instruction. Now I should not be underfoot. It’s your team. Get them into unison with you.”

“I see,” he said. “And you will be elsewhere.”

“Look,” she pointed out, as mildly as possible, “it shouldn’t take long. I hope not. We don’t want to come late for the big event. However, when you’re prepared, we’ll take two extra watches and rest before we proceed to destination. We’ll do it under boost, so everybody can feel at ease while regaining some muscle tone. Captain Valen thinks, and I agree, we’d better reach the scene in optimum condition. That’ll give you time to complete this project of yours, if you want.” And you will. You don’t sleep much or well, do you?

“Captain Valen.” Esker’s attention went back to his computer. “Very well, milady. Now, if you will excuse me, I may be able to write this subroutine before assuming my duties.”

“Of course.” If only I could share happiness with you who hardly know what it is. Impossible. So why mar mine? “Good luck.” Lissa left him.

Elif, Noel, and Tessa were fixing their meal, but the Susaian was evidently through eating. By tacit accommodation, he did so alone. Communality would have been awkward, given the differences in shape. “Will you not join your fellows?” he hailed her.

Courtesy demanded she press palm against bulkhead and brake herself. “Later,” she said. “I must report to the skipper.”

The luminous eyes searched her. “You are hungry.”

She laughed. It sounded the least bit nervous to her. “Does your emotion-reading extend to that? Yes, I would like a sandwich, but it can wait.”

The artificial voice lowered together with the sibilant purring. “Honored one, let me suggest you be more… circumspect. Feelings toward you have intensified.”

Blood throbbed in her throat. “What do you mean?”

A ripple down the long body might correspond to a shrug. “I detect emotions, not thoughts, and with an alien race my perceptions are basic; nuances are lost on me. Still, I can identify joy, and rageful bitterness, and even amicable, slightly prurient curiosity. This enables me to make deductions that as yet are probably mere speculations in the minds of the rest.” Those lips could not smile, and the speech was synthetic. Yet did she sense benevolence, concern, perhaps a kind of love? “None of my business, as your saying goes, especially when I am a total outsider. But I do pray leave to counsel discretion. We are embarking into mystery. We must remain united.

“Sufficient.”

Orichalc departed. She looked after him till he disappeared around a corner, before she continued forward.

He’s right, she knew. We have been careless, Gerward and I. Well, it happened so suddenly, overwhelmingly.… No justification. We’re not freed from our responsibility for crew and mission.

On earlier expeditions she had stayed prudent, celibate except on the two she made in company with Tomas Whiteriver, and there it was known beforehand that they would be together. (They had dreamed of forging one more marriage bond between their Houses. That faded out with the relationship, in wistful but not unpleasant wise. He was too immature.) Planetside, you could be as private as you wanted, and in any event jealousy wouldn’t create a hazard.

But damn it, Gerward’s the best lover I’ve ever had or hoped to have. Knowing, considerate, ardent. As fine a human being as I’ll ever meet. Wise, gentle, resolute. He’s come back out of the night—I raised him from it, he says—with a strength, a knowledge, beyond my imagining, I who have never been there. Dad and Mother won’t be happy at first, but they’ll learn, they too.

Meanwhile, yes, of course, we’d better see to our masks. If we can. How do you appear in public not radiating gladness?