Heart Thief (39 page)

Samba growled.
They followed Me. ME! They dared.
Her vocalizations grumbled so that Ruis couldn't comprehend them.

“Who?” he asked sharply.

Samba twitched her mouth and Ruis knew she was forming her words with care.
Holm Holly. Tinne Holly. They come in through one of my best hidey-ways.

Sixteen

“
Fligger,” Ruis swore. Ailim flinched beside him and put
on her clothes. He cursed more luridly under his breath and nailed his Fam with his stare. “Did you go out of the Ship in that saucer when I told you not to?”

The fat calico wouldn't meet his eyes.

“You did, didn't you.” His heart started pounding as his mind scrambled for ideas.

Samba sniffed and looked away. Her silver collar gleamed in the light.
Best play is with the waves on the Ship beach.

“I thought I told you not to go out of the Ship in that saucer, so you wouldn't call attention to yourself, to me, to the Ship.”

Samba's back rippled.
Rules. Rules everywhere. Celta rules outside. Ship rules inside. Your rules. Me do what I please. Like you. You ignore rules outside. Me ignore all rules.

“Here.” Ailim shoved his clothes at Ruis. “You need to leave here and Druida at once. The Ship is part of Druida proper, and you have broken your banishment edict. Go, and I'll take care of this.”

“No. I won't go. The Ship is my home, and refurbishing it is my calling.”

“Just go for now!” She started waving her hands in a pushing motion, her face creased with worry.

“I won't let you handle this for me.”

“If you don't leave, you could be caught and executed!” She was almost jumping.

“And the Hollys are just the sort of men to shoot their blasers first and deal with the mess later.” Ruis thought of his workshop. He had a couple of knives there. But no blasers, or long-distance weapons. Hell, he couldn't even use a sword with any competency. The Holly brothers could carve him to pieces. “Ship, what sort of personal weapons do you have for Captain and crew?”

“Crew can use her saucer as a ram.” Ship's speech sounded flat and atonal. “The Captain has an armory closet in his quarters, but the pieces have not been utilized for four hundred years.”

“Great.” He grabbed Ailim's hand and hauled her toward the omnivator. “Time for you to go.”

She dug in her heels. In an action he'd never thought himself capable of, Ruis hefted her up and over his shoulder. She squealed and pounded on his back. It hurt a little, but not enough to deter him. She poked her fingers into his butt.

“Youch!” He set his teeth and kept on walking.

“You listen to me, Ruis Elder, Captain Elder. I am not going. I can cope with the Hollys.”

He reached the omnivator. Samba's saucer bobbed in with them. It was crowded. “Captain's quarters,” he ordered. He let Ailim slide down his body, tantalizing him, reminding him of hours before and the loving that might never come again. His jaw ached from gritting his teeth. He pushed her against the soft wall and cupped her face between both of his hands.

“You won't leave?”

She shot him a lightning-blue glare. “No.”

He shook his head in amazement. Even mussed and with wrinkled clothes, she looked every inch the GrandLady.

She crossed her arms.

Ruis realized he was grinding his teeth again and stopped. “All right. I'm not sure what we'll do. But you can stay.”

“Thank you,” she replied in a cool voice.

“Ship, where are the Hollys?”

“They found an omnivator. It took them to the top level of section 42, passage 390. That section is slightly southerly from their entrance and has adequate reserves of power.”

The door to the cubicle opened, but Ruis didn't get out. “Take us there at once.”

“This omnivator does not attach to that level and section.”

“Wrong. It does.” Ruis pounded a fist on the wall. “I am the Captain. If you want me to remain here in the Ship as Captain, you will follow my orders.”

The omnivator lurched and zoomed upward at such an angle that Ruis and Ailim were thrown to the corner of the car. Samba's howl was earsplitting as her saucer bounced against the walls.

The cube jerked to a halt and the doors opened. No sooner had they disembarked than the doors snapped shut and the omnivator whooshed away. He didn't know what the Ship was up to, but his foreboding increased.

He strained to hear. Nothing. The hallway was dim and shadowy. It stretched only a few meters both before and behind them before turning. The scent of ancient dust and Ship metal was strong.

Ailim leaned against a curved corridor wall, her face pallid. He set his hands on her shoulders and gave them a little squeeze as he kissed her brow. “Go home, dear one.”

She snapped upright, raising her chin. In the indistinct light her eyes were more gray than blue. Her lips firmed, the SupremeJudge demeanor trickling back into her. “No.” Simple and soft, it was still irrevocable.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “Please?”

Her shoulders quivered under his hands, but remained straight. “I would like to do what you want me to, Ruis, but I couldn't forgive myself if I could have helped you and didn't.”

There was nothing more to say.

Samba had circled around them in laps, then her ears rotated and she whizzed off down the hallway ahead of them. Ruis heard muttering voices and a clank or two as if the Holly brothers kicked decrepit 'bots or other debris out of their way.

“Yow! What was that?” a lighter male voice called, getting closer with every step—Tinne Holly.

“It's that damned cat from the Opera House. Silver collar, calico, daughter of Zanth, just like T'Ash said. Yes, I'd wager she's Ruis Elder's Fam.” Holm sounded as if he was cheerfully anticipating a fight.

“Ah, the outcast. We'll get him,” Tinne said with rising excitement. “Wait, that looks like Samba.”

“Samba?” asked Holm.

“I didn't see her well before. She's the daughter of one of our estate cats,” said Tinne.

“Huh,” said Holm. “We'll get her too.”

Adrenalin flooded Ruis's veins.

The Hollys loved a fight. Ruis looked around for a weapon, but nothing looked usable. He firmed his jaw. Maybe he had a chance to convince them of his use in rehabilitating the Ship.

Samba's saucer tilted as she took the corner.

ZZZZZZssssssst!
A blaser sizzled.

Samba growled.

Ruis and Ailim broke into a run.

Boom!
Ruis recognized the sound of an antique airlock opening, then a low, powerful hum followed by the thin clicks of a robot. The sound of the belt-tracks of a fighting robot. He inhaled sharply and choked, doubled over coughing from the stirred up dust.

“What's that?” Tinne asked.

“Behind us!” Holm said.

“Lord and Lady!” Tinne swore.

Ailim looked at Ruis in concern, but her eyes narrowed. She darted around him.

Ruis didn't have the breath to curse, he couldn't stop coughing.

“It's big and it's a little clumsy, but pretty heavily armored,” Holm said. “It moves on tracks—more stable than wheels. It's reach is long and those weapons in its claws look nasty. That cowardly bastard Ruis Elder set it on us.”

Anger kindled in Ruis's gut.

“Do you hear something else?” asked Tinne.

“Coughing and running. There's two ahead of us, one's smaller,” said Holm.

Ruis heard the slide of a sword being drawn from its sheath. His anger chilled and his brain cleared when he thought of Ailim running toward the Hollys. He sped flat out.

Ailim rounded the curve in the corridor.

“Judge D'SilverFir!” Tinne shouted.

The resonance told Ruis that the men were farther away than he'd thought.

“Greetings, GrandLady. We heard there was trouble on your estate last night and you'd gone missing,” Holm said politely.

“D'SilverFir had ground tremors, an earthquake was barely averted. Ruis Elder saved my life.”

“Ah. Tell me, can you do anything about that war behemoth behind us?” asked Holm.

“Ship!” Ailim called out.

No answer.

Finally Ruis slid around the corner. A few meters away, Ailim walked with the grace of a GrandLady toward the men. The Hollys were about halfway down the long corridor, and Ruis was outside blaser range.

As soon as the fighting 'bot scanned Ruis, it rumbled quicker after the brothers.

“Hollys, sheath your weapons and I'll stop the robot,” Ruis called.

He received a flashing smile from Holm. “Sorry, but I can't really trust you, outcast.”

Ruis let the hurtful word pierce him, then pushed it aside. The dire circumstances demanded he keep control of his temper.

“Ship, slow the robot,” Ruis commanded.

“Captain, we disagree. You are in danger. We postulate these native Celtans can kill you summarily.”

“They're honorable men. They won't do that,” Ailim said, her tone calm. She flicked a glance at Ruis. “Stop where you are.”

“No. I won't hide behind you,” Ruis said.

Red flared on her cheeks.

“Ship, I gave you an order,” Ruis reminded. The robot slowed fractionally. “Reduce the speed of the fighting robot by half.” The rattling noise of the robot's track diminished, but didn't stop.

Samba hovered in front of the Hollys, blocking them. Two friends—Ailim and Samba—were determined to protect him. Welling affection helped Ruis vanquish his anger.

“You have several options, Captain,” said Ship. “We can hold the two native males in the brig five levels below.”

The Hollys stopped smiling.

“Our preferred choice is for a memory wipe of the Celtans,” said Ship.

The horrific concept froze everyone. The Holly brothers went pale.

“What?” asked Ruis.

“With the medical information at our disposal, through a mixture of hypnosis, drugs, and brain-laser we can remove the knowledge of your presence here on the Ship in Druida from the natives.”

“Can you, Ship?” Ailim sounded cutting. “How selective can you be? How delicate is this procedure? What ancillary damage could it do to their minds? How long has it been since you practiced this?”

“Very good questions, Ship,” Ruis said. “Have a report answering them on my desk by this evening.” If he was still here and not in chains in the gaol again, he'd read it.

“We will not allow you to be captured,” Ship said. The robot caught up with the Hollys.

The brief commotion was too quick to see. A black hole opened in the wall, the robot's silver tentacles flashed, shoving the Hollys into the hole. Then the corridor was empty.

A revving hum started.

“What's going on?” Ruis barely got the words out before Ailim screamed as the robot scooped her up and barreled toward him. Pounding came from the closed door. Then the fighting robot picked him up and bolted to the omnivator.

“Crew, follow with maximum speed,” Ship said.

Samba did. Within instants they were in the omnivator and hurling away from the hallway that had begun to vibrate with noise and power. “We think you should supervise from the Captain's Quarters,” Ship said.

“Supervise what?” yelled Ruis.

The doors of the cubicle opened and they were dumped out.

Ailim gasped. Her eyes looked wild. Samba shot from the 'vator and whizzed down the hallway to their quarters. Ruis heard her yowl her cat-passwords.

He grabbed Ailim's hand. “We can see what's going on in my quarters. Can you run or should I carry—”

She ran.

As they arrived in the study a holo shimmered into view. It showed the topside of the Ship, in the northwest quadrant where they'd just been. Curls of smoke seeped out, tracing a square metal hatch that faced the Great Platte Ocean.

“Lady and Lord, Ship's not burning them?” Ailim choked.

Prickles raced up Ruis's spine. “I don't think so. Ship, explain!”

A door raised from the curve of the Ship's hull, and a great cannon-like snout protruded. The Ship shook.

He only heard the sound in speakers and not through his ears; he couldn't feel the shot, but Ruis's stomach dropped as he saw a round, reflective orb shoot from the Ship arcing away across the ocean.

“Lifepod!” Ruis shouted. “The Hollys are in a lifepod! Ship, maximum lifesupport. Sacrifice anything to ensure safe landing for them.”