Part 28 (2/2)

”It wouldn't work, Caleb,” she said at last. ”You may . forgive me, but the past would always be between us.

You'd do better to find another brains.h.i.+p, one that has never betrayed your high ideals.” Preferably one that ^hasn't been commissioned for more than ten minutes.

”For myself-” Nantiasighed, ”sadderbutwiser,”f/iaft true, anyway, ”I think it is more appropriate for me to peti- j tion Central that my temporary partners.h.i.+p with Forister be made permanent, or to find another brawn if Forister I chooses to retire now.” Please, please, doritlet himdo that.

”Well.” At least Caleb's speech-making impulses had [been knocked out temporarily. ”If you really uiink...”

”I do,” said Nancia, ”and,” she added firmly, ”I will pay (the penalty fee for requesting a brawn rea.s.signment. It's not fair diat you should bear any part of that burden.”

But it was a little disappointing to see how quickly I Caleb accepted the offer....

314.

# Margaret BaS.

The trial of the Nyota Five, as the gossipbyters had dubbed Nanda's first pa.s.sengers, was still in progress when she landed at Central Base some weeks later.

The solitary journey back, with no brawn or pas- sengers to distract her, had given Nantia plenty of time to think .. . perhaps too much. She had no way of knowing how the trial was progressing or how the court had reacted to the testimony presented; in deference to High Families sensibilities, newsbeamers were not permitted in the courtroom and die gossip- byters had nothing but speculations to report. She didn't even know if the court would wish her cross-ex- amined on the deposition she'd sent back on datahedron. Well, if they did, she was available now.

And diere'd be no new a.s.signment until Forister was released from testifying and free to brawn her again. If he still wanted to, once he'd heard what was on her deposition... and what wasn't Nancia didn't have much time to brood over that possibility; she had hardly touched down at Base when a visitor was announced.

”Perez y de Gras requesting permission to board,” the Central Base managing brain warned her in advance.

That was a welcome surprise! The last Nancia had heard from Flix was a bitstream packet from Kailas, mostly consisting of pictures of the seedy cafe where he'd found a synthocomming gig. He must have quit - or been fired.... Well, she wouldn't ask him about diat Nancia opened her outer doors and set die wall- sized display screens in the lounge to show the surprise she'd been preparing for him.

”Flix, how lovely, I didn't know you were ...” she began joyfully as the airlock slid open. The words died away to a faint hiss from her port speaker as she took in die sight of the trim, gray-haired man who stood in the open airlock, surveying her interior with cool gray315.

res. Nancia hastily blanked out the moving displays liner new, holo-enhanced, super-detailed s.p.a.cED )UT and replaced them with some quiet, correct im- !jes of still life paintings by Old Masters.

”As far as I know,” said Javier Perez y de Gras, ”he isn't. Although doubtless, now that I've been reas- signed to Central, your litde brother will find another squalid position on this planet from which to annoy me with the sight of his failure.”

”Oh.” Nancia hadn't previously compared the pat- tern of Flix's jauntings from gig to gig with her father's diplomatic a.s.signments. Now she made a hasty scan of her restored memory banks and found a surprising number of correspondences. That was something she'd have to ask Flix about. Just now she really didn't feel up to discussing it with Daddy.

”I don't suppose,” she said carefully, ”that was what you came to see me about? Flix's career, I mean?”

Her father sniffed. ”I don't consider that a career. You have a career, Nancia my dear, and by all accounts you've done quite well Co date - a few errors in judgment, per- haps, but nothing that maturity and experience won't-”

This time Nancia knew what caused the flush of heat diat swamped her upper deck circuits and the red haze that trembled in her visual sensors. For a moment she didn't speak, fearing that she would be unable to control her voice; she could not look at Daddy without seeing Caleb and, shadowy in her imagination, Paul del Parmay Polo. Just another man, seeing in her nothing but a tool to serve his plans, coming to give her a rating on how well or ill she'd done for him. Were all men like that?

”Exactly what errors of judgment were you thinking of?” she inquired when she had her vocal circuits under control again. Not that she hadn't made plenty of mistakes for Daddy to pick at....

But what he complained of was the last thing she'd been worried about 316.

fcf ”At least, fortuitously, some other s.h.i.+p performed the service of transporting them back to Central,”

Daddy said. ”But from what I've heard at the trial, you were quite prepared to perform that service yoursel You shouldn't lower yourself that way, Nancia. A Perez y de Gras shouldn't be used as a prison s.h.i.+p to transport common criminals.”

”In case you've forgotten, Daddy,” Nancia replied, ”those 'common criminals' are the very same people I transported to the Nyota system on my maiden voyage... and didn't you pull a few strings to arrange that a.s.signment for me?”

Javier Perez y de Gras sat down heavily in one of the comfortably padded cabin chairs. ”I did that,” he said.

”I thought it would be nice for you to have some young company ... young people of your own cla.s.s and background ... for your first voyage. An easy as- signment, I thought.”

”So did I,” Nancia said. Some of the sadness she felt crept into her voice; whatever she'd done to her feed- back loops, it seemed to work both ways. She could no longer maintain the perfectly controlled, emotionally uninflected vocal tones she had prided herself on producing before the hyperchip disaster. ”So did I.

But it turned out... rather more complicated than that. And I didn't know what to do. Maybe I did make some 'errors in judgment.' I didn't have a lot of advice, if you recall. ”Just a taped good-luck message from a man too busy and important to come to my graduation.

”I recall,” her father said. ”Call that my error, if you like. Once you'd made it through Lab Schools to graduation and commissioning, you seemed to be doing so well, and I was worried about Flix. Still am, for that matter.” He sighed. ”Anyway, there you were, off to the start of a glorious career, and my other two children had problems aplenty.”

”Not Jinevra!” Nancia exclaimed. ”I always thought317.

she was the perfect example of what you wanted us to become.”

”I wanted you to become yourselves,” her father said. ”Apparently I didn't communicate that to you.

Jinevra's a paper-doll cutout of the ideal PTA ad- ministrator, and I don't know how to talk to her any more. And as for Flix - well, you know about Flix. I thought he needed attention more than you. Thought a few suggestions, maybe an entry-level position in some branch of Central where he could work himself up and someday amount to something ... of course he'd have to give up fooling around with the synthcom....” Javier Perez y de Gras sighed. ”Flix never has straightened out. I don't know, perhaps he feels neglected on account of all those years when I took every free moment to visit you at Lab Schools. I didn't have that much time for him then. Even the day he was born, I was at Lab Schools, watching you be fitted for your first mobile sh.e.l.l. Seemed he needed me more than you.... I thought it was time to redress the balance.”

Nancia absorbed the impact of this speech quietly.

For the first time, looking at her father's worn face, she began to comprehend how much time and effort he must have really given to his family over the years.

Since their mother had quietly retired to the haven of Blissto addiction in a hush-hush, genteel clinic, he had tried to be both father and mother to three obstreperous, brilliant, demanding High Families brats. Another man might have leaned too hard on his children for emotional comfort; another career diplomat might have shunted the children into ex- clusive boarding schools and forgotten about them.

But Daddy was no Faul del Parma, to use and abuse and forget his children. He'd done the best he could for them ... within his limitations .,. s.n.a.t.c.hing mo- ments between meetings, suffering long tiring 318 AnneMcCaffrey &MargaretBaU rerourings between a.s.signments to spend a day or two on their planets, juggling a diplomat's unforgiving schedule to work in graduations and school plays.

”An error of judgment, perhaps,” Javier Perez y de Gras said when the silence had lasted too long, ”but never... please believe me... an error of love. You're my daughter. I only wanted the best for you.” And rising from his padded chair, he laid one hand briefly on the t.i.tanium column that enclosed and protected Nancia's sh.e.l.l.

”Requesting permission to come aboard!”

There was no identification this time, but Nancia recognized Forister's voice, even though there was something unfamiliar about the way he drew the words out She activated her external sensors and saw not only Forister but General Questar-Benn standing on the landing pad.

”Request permission to come aboard,” Forister repeated. He was p.r.o.nouncing his words very careful- ly. And Micaya Questar-Benn was standing very properly, stiff as if she were on a parade-ground. A suspicion began to grow in Nancia's mind.

She slid open the lower doors and waited. A mo- ment later the airlock door opened and Micaya Questar-Benn stepped into the lounge. Very slowly and carefully.

Forister followed. He was holding an open botde in one hand.

”You are drunk,” Nancia said severely.

Forister looked wounded. ”Not yet. Wouldn't get drunk before I came back to share the news with you.

Just... happy. Very happy,” he expatiated. ”Very, very, very... where was 1?”

”Looking at the bottom of a bottle of Sparkling Heorot, I suspect,” Nancia told him.

Forister's wounded expression intensified. ”Please!319.

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