Part 2 (1/2)

Well, there wouldn't be any more of ihat Dear Papa was history now, and so was the unexplained s.p.a.ce- station collapse that had killed him and left OG s.h.i.+pping in the hands of its directors until Darnell finished school. And last night's Stemerald debauch was also history-if only he could convince his queasy stomach and pounding head of that!

It wasn't fair that he should suffer like this after what had only been a perfectly reasonable indulgence to celebrate the end of schooling and the start of his new career. A pity neither of the girls had seen fit to continue the celebration in the logical manner. Well, they had two weeks to planetfall; they'd come around and see his at- tractions soon enough. After all, it wasn't as if he had any serious compet.i.tion on this drones.h.i.+p. De Gras- Waldheim was handsome enough, but a cold fish if Darnell had ever seen one. Something frightening about him, with those intense blue eyes burning like dry ice under the stiff Academy haircut. As for the Medoc boy, Bla.s.s or Blaze or whatever his name was, no girl was going to waste time on a kid with a face like a friendly gar- e. No> it would be old Darnell to the rescue again, the n man on board widi the social skills to entertain two lovely ladies all the way to their destination planets around Nyotayajaha.

And he could hear sounds in the central cabin. Was one of the girls up and about already? Darnell sucked in his gut, threw his shoulders as far back as they would go, and glanced at his reflection in the synth- ailoy wall once again. His face wasn't really soft and pufly like that, he told himself; it was a trick of the dis- torted reflection. Made him look middle-aged and flabby and tired. Nonsense. He was the handsome young heir to OG s.h.i.+pping and he was fit to take on anybody or anything....

But not, maybe, that cold fish, Polyon de Gras- Waldheim. Darnell clutched at the doorway and tried to stop his impulsive movement into the central cabin. His legs kept going while his arms tried to haul him back.

”Oh, come on in, OG,” Polyon said impatiently, his back to the door. ”Don't just cling to the doorframe waving your tentacles like a seasick jellyfish.”

Seasick.

Jellyfish.

Darnell gulped down a wave of nausea and reminded himself again that s.p.a.ce travel on a grav- enhanced drone was not like being on an actual moving, swaying, s.h.i.+fting oldstyle sea vessel.

”What are you doing?”

Polyon released the chair controls and spun slowly round to face Darnell, long limbs relaxed as if to em- phasize his comfort in this environment. ”Just. ..

playing games,” he said with a queer smile. 'Just a few little games to pa.s.s the time.”

”What'd you do, crash the s.p.a.cED OUT gameset so badly you lost the screens?”

”Something like that,” Polyon agreed. ”You can help me start it up again, if you like.”

30.

6f 31.

It was the closest thing to a friendly overture Darnel!

had heard from Polyon since they met the previous night. Maybe, he thought forgivingly, maybe the poor guy didn't know how to make friends. Coming from a stiff-backed upper-crust lot like the de Gras- Waldheims, spending his life at military boarding schools, you couldn't expect him to have the savoir vivne and easy social manners that Darnell prided him- self on displaying. Well, he'd help old Polyon out, be his friend on this litde jaunt.

”Sure thing,” he said, walking on into the room with a careful soft step that didn't jar his aching head. He sank into one of the cus.h.i.+oned pa.s.senger chairs, ”Nothing to it, I used to play this stuff all the time in prep school. Tell you what - if I help you get into the computer, maybe you'll help me get into something else?” He winked laboriously at Polyon.

”What exactly did you have in mind?” The man didn't have a due how to make light conversation.

”Two of us,” Darnell explained cheerfully, tapping away at the console keys. ”Two of them. The black one is more your size. But I need a strategy to get into the del Parma skirt's pants. Tactics, maneuvers, advance and retreat - Got any suggestions?” Not, Darnell thought, that he really needed any help, but there was nothing like a round of good, bawdy male-to-male bonding talk to cement a friends.h.i.+p. And since Polyon evidently wanted to be friends, Darnell was more than ready to meet him halfway.

” I'm afraid you're on your own there,” Polyon said dis- tantly. ”I've... never had occasion to study the problem.”

He nicked an invisible speck of dust off his pressed sleeve and affected to study the s.p.a.cED OUT screens as Darnell brought them back to fill the walls of the cabin.

The implication was clear; he'd never needed to work out tactics with the ladies. Well, of course not. With the de Gras-Waldheim name and fortune behind him - and that muscle-bound, oversized physique - still, he had no call to sneer at somebody who was just trying to he friendly. Darnell glowered at the console and tapped the commands that would set the game at - hmm, not Level 10, his reflexes weren't quite up to the interactive holowaniors just yet. Level 6. That should be high enough to scramble Polyon's moves and let him see what it was like dealing with an expert ”It's a new version,” Polyon said in surprise. ”I don't remember that asteroid belt.''

Til bet five credits there's a due to the Hidden Hor- rors of Holmdale somewhere in the new asteroids,”

Darnell offered.

”No bet on that. But I'll lay you five credits that I/it's there, I'll find it first. Choose your icon!”

Darnell chose one of the play icons displayed along the bottom of the central screen. He always liked to be Bonecrush, the cyborg monster who stalked the lower tunnels of the labyrinth but occasionally blasted out into s.p.a.ce with his secretly installed jetpacks and per- sonal force s.h.i.+eld. Polyon, he noticed with pleasure, was taking the icon for Thingberry the Martian Mage, a wimp of a character if there ever was one. This game should be over in no time.

”So what brings you out to the Nyota system?”

Polyon asked after a few minutes of seemingly idle maneuvering and pointless commands.

Darnell scowled at the screen. How had Thingberry managed to surround two-thirds of the asteroid belt with a charm of impenetrability? Very well, he would let Bonecrush turn around and use his internal jetpacks as a weapon; that should blast through sneaky Thingberry's magic. ”Taking up the old inheritance,” he replied as he tapped in the commands that would give Bonecrush maximum blasting power. ”OG s.h.i.+pping, you know.

Can't think why old Cousin Wigran moved the firm's 32.

&f 33.

headquarters out to Vega subs.p.a.ce, but I'm sure he'll ex- plain everything when I get there.”

”If he can,” Polyon agreed. ”You have that much faith in him?”

Darnell stealthily maneuvered Bonecrush into range.

That idiot Polyon was looking at him, not at the screen; he could get away with murder if he could keep Polyoris attention away from the game for a few more seconds.

”What d'you mean?” he asked, not really listening for the answer. ”Why shouldn't I have faith in Wigran?”

Polyon looked shocked, and for a moment Darnell was afraid he'd noticed Bonecrush's moves on the central game screen. ”My dear chap! You mean you haven't heard? Decom it,” he cursed in a low vicious tone. ”I didn't realize - Look, Darnell, I shouldn't be the one to tell you this. Haven't you been paying atten- tion to the newsbytes from Vega?”

”Management bores me,” Darnell told him. ”I'll be perfecdy happy to draw the profits from the company and let Cousin Wigran keep running the store.” His hands were resting on the key that would activate Bonecrush's jet packs. Any minute now he'd execute a controlled power surge that should blast a hole right through Thingberry's defenses. But he wanted Polyon to be watching in the moment of defeat, not babbling on about some boring accountant's trial in the Vega system.

”Well, I suppose you'd have to know pretty soon anyway,” Polyon was saying now. ”I hate like h.e.l.l to be the one to tell you, though.” He was watching Darnell's face more closely than he'd ever looked at the game screens.

”Tell me what?” For the first time Darnell felt a chill of apprehension creep over him.

”It's all been coming out in the trial,” Polyon said.

”That accountant who was skimming his clients'

credits to play Lotto-Roids? OG s.h.i.+pping was one of his biggest accounts. And your cousin Wigran knew exactly what the fellow was doing. He even helped kim _ for a share in the cash. Together, they've gambled away more than ninety per cent of OG s.h.i.+pping'5 a.s.sets. I'm afraid all you're going to inherit on Bahati is one over-age AI drone and a bunch of debts.”

Darnell's sweaty fingers slipped and punched the power key harder than he'd intended. Bonecrush's jet packs released their maximum thrust. The blast rebounded harmlessly off Thingberry's invisible charm-s.h.i.+eld and propelled Bonecrush, too depleted of power to activate his personal force-s.h.i.+eld, into the blackness of deep s.p.a.ce. His cyborg body exploded into a million stars of synthalloy debris.

”Wow,” Polyon said, finally glancing at the dazzling light effects on the screen. ”This is a great game! Will you look at those graphics? What is it, a supernova?”

”Me,” said Darnell Overton-Glaxely. A gentleman knew when to bite the bullet. ”I owe you five credits.”

Blaize Oh, no, not another one!

Nancia briefly shut down all her internal sensors as Blaize Armontillado-Perez y Medoc stirred in his cabin. She had come to the conclusion that her pas- sengers were most bearable when they were sleeping it off. If only she could flood all their cabins with sleepgas and keep them unconscious until they reached the Nyota ya Jaha system.... Nancia caught herself in mid-thought. She was becoming as bad as they were!

How could she even think such a thing? Hadn't she made perfect marks in all her Integrity and Sh.e.l.l Ethics cla.s.ses? She should have been doubly guarded, by family heritage and Academy training, against even imagining such a betrayal of her ideals.

34 fcf There was nothing to stop her from leaving her in- ternal sensors inactive until they reached Nyota ya Jaha, though. Nancia considered this briefly before deciding against it. True, her pa.s.sengers wouldn't notice anything, since they already a.s.sumed she was a drones.h.i.+p programmed to carry them in privacy to their destination. And it was also true that she would rather perform the Singularity transformations that carried them through decomposition s.p.a.ce without the irritating distraction of these ... brats. But she shrank from the idea of spending days, more than a week, in the isolation of s.p.a.ce, with nothing to see but the wheeling stars, no other brain to communicate with - for if she opened a beam to Central, her cousin Polyon, with his propensity for snooping through the s.h.i.+p's computer systems, would be bound to notice the comm activity. Brains.h.i.+ps were as human as any softpersons; Nancia knew that it would be unwise to expose herself for so long to the strain of partial sen- sory deprivation.