Part 52 (2/2)
And I have a great desire to see your back going off my s.h.i.+p, thought Sa.s.sinak, but she smiled for his benefit. ”I'd like to believe you, and if that's true, I hope we serve together again someday. Have a good trip. Don't let those Seti use you for nest padding.”
46.
When the status lights confirmed that Dupaynil was safely off the s.h.i.+p and into the station, Sa.s.sinak breathed a sigh of relief. Now she could tell Ford what she was up to-or enough for him to help her with the last of Dupaynil's maneuver. That involved a bit of straight talking to the escort captain, on the need for immediate departure, and the importance of keeping his mouth firmly shut. Sa.s.sinak kept the Zaid-Dayan linked to the station until the escort broke away.
”And just how did you manage that?” Ford had waited just long enough for her to engage her office's privacy circuits. Sa.s.sinak grinned at him. ”And don't bother to look innocent,” he went on. ”I don't know how you did it, but you must have.”
”Let's just say that someone who's spent her career on s.h.i.+ps knows a bit more about them than a Security office rat.”
”And you're not going to explain, eh?”
”Not entirely. Would you trust Dupaynil to have undipped whatever bugs he's set out on this s.h.i.+p?”
”Mmm. I see.”
”And you are smart enough to figure out everything you need to know. You can think about it while looking up your remarkable relative.”
”But what about the depositions? I can't leave now!” His face changed expression suddenly. ”Oh. The only one who knew about those orders is ... G.o.ds above, Captain, what did you do?”
”Used the resources available to make appropriate dispositions of personnel in a situation of extreme delicacy,” said Sa.s.sinak crisply. ”And that's all I'm going to say about it. Your a.s.signment is to uncover whatever links you can between the suspect merchant families and planet piracy and the slave trade. On my orders, by my a.s.sessment that this need overrides any other orders you may have heard about.”
”Ummm . . . yes, ma'am.”
”Good. Dupaynil, meanwhile, is supposed to be investigating the Seti and their connection with all this nastiness. I have heard, from time to time, that the Seti
47.
expressed sympathy with the heavyworlders for having been the victims of genetic engineering. You remember that they believe all such activity is wrong and refuse any kind of bioengineering on their own behalf. They're also known to hate Wefts, although no one seems to know why, and the Wefts won't comment.”
”I've never understood why the Seti came into the Federation at all,” Ford said. He seemed glad enough of a detour.
”Let Dupaynil worry about that,” Sa.s.sinak said. ”Now, d'you think a direct call to your family will locate your great aunt?”
”No, probably not. Let me think. The family hears at least once a standard year at Homefaring, but that's five months away. And she travels, you know; she's supposed to have one of the most luxurious yachts in s.p.a.ce. We might find her in one of the society papers.”
”Society papers!”
Ford flushed. ”She's that fend; I told you. Minor aristocracy, but considers herself well up there. Once we locate her, I can fake-I mean arrange-a message from the family to justify a visit.”
Sa.s.sinak did not even know the names of the papers Ford called up on their next s.h.i.+ft down into normal s.p.a.ce. She glanced at the sheets as he pa.s.sed them over: even in flat copy, the photographs fairly glittered with wealth. Women in jewels and glistening gowns, men in formal Court dress, ribbons streaming from one knee. The sumptuous interiors of ”gracious homes” as they were called, homes that existed merely to show off their owners' wealth. Sa.s.sinak could not imagine actually sleeping in one of the beds shown, a ”sculpted masterpiece” with a stream of moving water actually running through it. She could feel her lip curling.
”Ah! Here she is.” Ford had his finger on the place. ”Among the notable guests at the wedding-would you look at that so-called bride!-is my very own n.o.ble relative. Will travel on to partic.i.p.ate in the Season at the usual Rainbow Arc events . . . which means she's somewhere between Zalaive and the Rainbow Arc. Permission to initiate search?”
48.
”Go ahead.” Sa.s.sinak was deep in a discussion of the reasons why cuulinda was destined to replace folsath as the newest sporting rage among the n.o.bility. She hadn t heard of either, and the article didn't mention whether they were played with teams, animals, or computers. Ford busied himself at the terminal, checking Fleet's comprehensive database on vessel owners.h.i.+p and movement on the lowlink.
”Ah! She's en route to Colles, ETA two weeks, and there's a ... Oh snarks!”
”A what?” asked Sa.s.sinak, looking up at his tone.
”Well. I can get to her by her next planetfall, but it means. .h.i.tching a ride on a tanker-transport.”
Sa.s.sinak grinned at him. Tankers had a reputation as bare-bones tranportation, and they played out that game on visitors.
”It'll make the contrast all the greater.” She looked at the route he'd found. ”I'll cut your orders, get you on that patrol-cla.s.s. Don't forget to arrange that family message somehow.”
”I won't.”
His routing didn't give them much time, but, with Lunzie and Dupaynil both out of the way, they enjoyed a last festive evening in Sa.s.sinak's cabin. Then he was gone, and Sa.s.sinak had the final planning to do as they approached the crowded inner sector of the Federation.
She wondered how Aygar would react to the publicity and culture shock of FedCentral. He had been using the data banks on the Zaid-Dayan several hours a day. Ford kept a record of his access. He'd talked to both Marines and Fleet enlisted personnel and word of that trickled back to Sa.s.sinak by channels she doubted Aygar knew about. He had asked to take some of the basic achievement tests, to gauge for himself where he stood educationally. Sa.s.sinak had given permission, even though Dr. Mayerd thought ”the boy,” as she called him, should have professional advice.
The test results lay in the computer files. Sa.s.sinak had not accessed them, out of respect for the little
49.
privacy Aygar had, but from his demeanor he seemed well pleased with himself. She was less certain.
He was a striking young man, attractive if you liked muscles and regular features, and she admitted to herself that she did. But except for that subtle sense of rivalry with Lunzie, she would not have been drawn to him. She liked men of experience, men with whom she could share her broad background. Fleet officers of her own rank, or near it. It was all very well to impress youngsters like that ensign Timran. No woman minded starry-eyed boys as long as they stayed respectful. But Aygar did not fit that category, or any other.
”Commander? Central Docks wants a word.”
<script>