Linesman (12 page)

The lines reacted to the sound, and Ean started a countermelody under his breath. “Don't worry about it. It's just your security replaying the tape.”

They didn't like it. Line eight offered to destroy the tape.

“You can do that?” Ean asked, amazed.

The line replied an affirmation that wasn't really words, just assent.

“Not yet, and make it natural if you do,” Ean sang. “Please.”

“He's doing it again,” the assistant cried. “Make him stop.”

Thankfully, that was when they got to the end of the tape, where Ean staggered out of the cubicle.

“Doesn't look so bad,” the first guard said to the second, who just shook his head.

“Radko,” Bhaksir said, her voice as cutting as a razor. “Your job is to keep Spacer White in check.” It took Ean a moment to remember the name on his pocket was White. She turned to the guards. “Our apologies. It won't happen again,” and she looked forbiddingly at them both.

“Yes, ma'am.” Radko sounded subdued.

Bhaksir glanced at her wrist comm. “Lady Lyan's interview has finished. We are holding her up,” and she swept them out of the office in an icy wave.

Radko had to help Ean out. He was still unbalanced from the effects of the Taser.

Behind them, through the partially repaired line one, Ean heard Guard One say to Guard Two, “It takes all sorts.”

Guard Two replied, “I bet someone pulled major strings to get him on that ship. Wonder who he is?”

“Don't know, but I want to listen to that tape again. Man can sing if nothing else.”

There was a pause. Ean felt the wave of frustration that swept out after that, and they all heard the thump on the desk. “Damned electronics. They spend millions on the latest interview cameras but they're too mean to fix up our security computers. This whole place will fall apart one day, and serve them right.” It sounded like a regular complaint. No music followed them.

•   •   •

RADKO
started shaking once they were on the shuttle. “That was too close.”

Bhaksir clapped her on the shoulder. “Nice job.”

Ean was beyond shaking and suddenly so exhausted, he couldn't sit up straight. He didn't like espionage. He slumped into his seat. “I am never going to work for Galactic News.”

“Because of their security? Or because of the assistants they employ?” Radko asked.

“Because they mistreat their lines.”

•   •   •

BACK
on ship, Ean showered again and wondered what to do with his clothes. Espionage was dirty work. Interesting that Michelle had come prepared with a second set and that she needed to use it. What else had Abram asked Michelle to do?

He made his way down to the workroom.

Abram had just finished interviewing Radko and Bhaksir. “Good job,” he said to Radko, and she straightened at the praise. Not that Ean could see how she straightened because she'd always walked tall and upright.

Ean wondered if he should wait, but Michelle came down the passage behind him, so he couldn't go back. He went into the room.

Abram nodded to the two guards, who left.

“Linesman Lambert.”

He should probably stand to attention like Radko and Bhaksir had. Instead, Ean helped himself to a glass of tea. It gave him something warm to hold. Michelle came over for one, too. Ean gave her the glass and poured another for himself. He looked at Abram queryingly. Abram nodded—was he ever likely to say no to tea—and Ean poured a third glass.

Despite everything, when he was around them, Ean still liked Abram and Michelle.

“So did we get the result we needed?” Abram asked.

How did he answer this without sounding even crazier?

Abram waited until Ean had settled himself on one of the couches—the couch he was coming to think of as his—then raised an eyebrow. “Linesman?”

“I made a deal with the ships,” Ean said finally.

“You made a deal.” On anyone else, the tone would have been icy disapproval. Abram just kept his voice neutral, with a slight uptilt at the end that denoted a question. “With whom?”

“With the ships.”

He could see them both thinking that one over. Abram asked finally, “Was any human on either ship involved? Apart from yourself?”

At least he didn't flat-out discount it. “No.” Ean warmed his hands around the glass. “I explained the problem. No ship wants to be vaporized. Then I made a bargain. I would fix their lines if they cooperated.”

“And the ships agreed?” He couldn't read the expression on Abram's face, and the tone was still neutral.

“Those ships . . .” Ean was indignant just thinking about it. “Have you heard their lines? They're a mess. Neither company should be allowed to run a ship. Especially not Galactic News.”

Abram finished his glass of tea while he thought. “So these ships want to be fixed, and that's why they entered into an agreement with you.”

That wasn't all of it. “They don't want to be vaporized either.”

“Who does?” Abram's voice was dry. “Are they likely to honor this agreement?”

“Yes.” The lines didn't lie.

“What about shuttles?” Michelle asked. “I get that the ships will somehow stop themselves going closer, but won't they launch shuttles when they find the ship won't do it?”

“They'll stop the shuttles, too.” Ean was confident about that. He trusted the lines. He looked straight at Abram. “We have to honor our side of the bargain as well. I promised we would fix them. We must do that. If I'm dead, we still have to do it.” If Abram wouldn't, he'd do it on his own.

Abram nodded and made a note on his comms. “Understood, and it will be done.”

Ean breathed out in relief. He might not like what Abram asked him to do, but he trusted the man. If Abram said it would happen, it would.

Abram stared at the comms a moment longer, then stood up abruptly. “Excuse me a moment,” and left.

Ean knew where he was going. Who would believe such a crazy story? Who did Abram even have to corroborate it? “He's gone to see Captain Helmo,” he said.

Michelle half shrugged, but didn't say anything. She'd showered, too, and damp hair curled around her face. Ean breathed in the clean smell of her and wondered what she used to wash with. Whatever it was would probably cost him a month's pay.

“If he wants a doubter, he should wait until Rebekah gets back.”

“You and Helmo don't get along,” Michelle pointed out. “He's likely to be anti anything you say.”

Ean leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. “Captain Helmo talks to his ship. He'd make a bargain with it.” Rebekah wouldn't. How was she getting on, anyway? If they'd had time to visit two ships, then Rebekah'd had time to get as close as they would let her. Come to think of it, Abram had taken a risk, letting Michelle travel on a shuttle while someone could have triggered an attack. Either he wasn't worried she'd trigger it, or he was more desperate than he let on.

Michelle went to sit on her couch. Ean breathed in deep as the movement wafted more clean smell across. “Rebekah?”

“Hasn't found anything yet,” Michelle said.

They wouldn't just be relying on the linesmen; of that Ean was sure. Who would be doing the other work? The observers or people on the other ships? Abram had implied that the other ships had been there longer.

“Why didn't you just do this whole thing quietly? Your other ships have been here—how long? Days? Weeks?”

“We didn't get a chance to do that,” Michelle said. “Redmond has been planning to attack Haladea for months. The lines alone know why. There's nothing on Haladea except farms. Their only real export is the drug, starfruit.”

Starfruit hadn't been popular in Lancia's Oldcity. Too expensive, and there were synthetic aphrodisiacs available. Although Ean had heard that the natural drug gave sex a totally different experience.

“What do you mean, planning? Couldn't they just attack?”

Michelle winced. “Taking over a world, or in this case three worlds, isn't quite as simple as sending in a warship. There is planning involved. Logistics, politics. Anyway, we all knew it was going to happen.”

“And you didn't do anything about it?” Wasn't that the whole point of an Alliance of worlds? To support each other when they were threatened. If Ean remembered Rigel's lessons correctly—and how could he not, for Rigel had loved history—the Alliance had become an alliance to protect each other.

“We told them about it, naturally.”

He was sure that would have been helpful.

“But none of us could do anything about it. We thought it was a back way into starting the war, you see. Because Redmond was now allied with Gate Union, so protecting Haladea could be construed as an act of war.”

So they'd left Haladea to be gobbled up by the enemy. A bit like Ean was going to be gobbled up by the Linesmen's Guild once this was over. Or would have been if he'd destroyed the lines. Ean felt some fellow sympathy for the tiny nation.

“The Haladeans knew the Alliance wouldn't help them. So they did something smart, from their point of view anyway. They used their right as a member of the Alliance to call a security council.”

Security councils were private meetings, Alliance representatives only. Every member of the Alliance had a right to call one, and other members were obligated to attend. Ean remembered that much from Rigel's training. Come to think of it, that particular piece of information had probably come out when the recent meeting had been called. Ean hadn't paid much attention at the time. He'd been busy mending lines, and he'd thought that Rigel had a cheek, drumming politics into him when he was so tired.

“At the meeting, they told everyone about the alien ship. They forced our hand.”

Ean looked at her.

“Politics,” said Michelle, and didn't even look apologetic. “We all knew the Haladeans would lose against Redmond although we didn't know at the time they were down two warships, and the Haladeans knew that if they brokered a deal with just one world, they had no hope. When whoever they made the deal with got the ship, they would still leave the Haladeans to their fate. So they made a deal with all of us. We get the ship in return for protecting them.” She shrugged. “It precipitated a fight we all knew was coming but no one wanted just yet.”

If Redmond took Haladea, they'd have gotten the ship anyway.

“I still don't see why it's so important to have the alien ship,” Ean said. “Why not let Redmond have it?”

“A weapon like that can win a war. It's not something you want your enemy to get hold of.”

“The media are here now. They'll send the information back to their networks. Redmond and Gate Union will know soon enough.”

“You can't communicate through the void. Those ships will have to find a relay point to report in. They need a more populous sector to do that. Abram would have preferred you to have simply broken the lines.” Michelle sighed. “We never expected much lead time. Not when every member of the Alliance insisted on sending a representative to watch what we're doing. We don't trust each other.”

He couldn't have broken the lines. So he might have prevented them all from being vaporized, but he'd still brought the enemy.

Abram came back then, looking bemused.

Michelle smiled her dimple smile. “Captain Helmo says that making a bargain with one's ship is perfectly acceptable?”

Abram nodded. “Although,” he said to Ean, “I'm to tell you that if you try to bargain with this ship, you'll be taking a spacewalk, sans suit.”

Ean doubted this ship would accept a bargain without communicating it to its captain first.

Abram turned to Michelle. “You'll need to calm some people. Tarkan Heyington, in particular, is upset because you didn't take him along to the media ships.”

Michelle sighed and put down her glass. “Back to work.”

•   •   •

REBEKAH
didn't get back for another four hours. She had nothing to report.

Abram switched crews on the shuttle and sent Ean out immediately to see if he could glean anything by getting closer to the alien ship.

They still thought he was of some use, at least. It was strange to think he wanted to be of some use to Lancia, to the Alliance, but even after they had tried to make him break line six, he couldn't blame Abram or Michelle for it. They were doing their best.

Bhaksir and Radko were two of the spacers who traveled with him.

“Don't you ever get a break?” Ean asked Radko.

“You get used to it,” Radko said cheerfully. “You take your breaks when the ship's in port.”

Ean wasn't likely to be on the ship long enough to have a break in port.

JORDAN ROSSI

THE FIRST GATE
Union official Rossi had met with to discuss Lady Lyan's impending arrival had been a middle-level bureaucrat from the nearest world. He'd gotten the impression then that Gate Union thought Lady Lyan was the cartel's problem and wasn't interested.

This time, there were two Gate Union representatives, and they weren't happy at being kept waiting. One was Ahmed Gann of Nova Tahiti, the most important backroom manipulator in the union, the man who made or broke presidents. Rossi didn't know the woman—Jita Orsaya—but she wore her corporate clothes with an upright precision that screamed military.

Something had changed.

“Lady Lyan isn't coming here,” Rossi said. She'd have been here by now if she were.

“She never planned to,” Orsaya said, and Gann didn't look happy at that revelation.

If Gate Union knew, then Rebekah certainly did as well, but she hadn't bothered to tell him or Naidan even though she must have told her own cartel master. Gate Union could only have gotten that information from Sandhurst.

Sometimes Rossi hated politics.

He made a mental note to pass that bit of news on to Fergus to pass on to the Rickenback cartel master and to Naidan to pass on to her cartel master at Laito. Let them take it to the other cartels. Maybe Sandhurst was starting to move.

“Has Linesman Grimes contacted you yet?” Orsaya asked.

“No.”

Orsaya chewed at her bottom lip. “We've three people on that ship,” she said. “And not one of them has contacted us. Galenos's security is too tight.”

Even Rossi had heard of Commodore Abram Galenos. “So you don't know where it is?” He was fishing. He hoped it didn't sound like he was.

“No.” Orsaya chewed her lip again.

The bureaucrat and the soldier exchanged glances. Orsaya nodded.

Gann said abruptly, “We are aware of the political machinations among the linesmen. That Sandhurst will soon take over the Linesmen's Guild.”

Not if Rossi could help it.

“Not all Union worlds agree with putting the power into one cartel.”

But some obviously did because Sandhurst must have the backing of at least one or more Gate Union worlds. Interesting that he'd said it so bluntly and so early in the conversation.

But then, one didn't have to be a higher-level linesman to see that coming. Admiral Markan, of Roscracia, had been all over the vids lately, hinting at the need for stronger action against the Alliance, particularly line-related actions, like access to the void gates. Fergus, Rossi's ever-knowledgeable assistant, had pointed out that Iwo Hurst, cartel master of Sandhurst, had dined five times with Markan in the last two months.

Gann looked directly at Rossi. “We are concerned that she is passing on her information simply to her home cartel and that Sandhurst will use that information to ally with a certain Gate Union faction in the hope that both will rise to power.”

So was he. Rossi kept his face impassive.

“If she is contacting anyone, I would like to know about it.” Gann paused a moment. “It will be to both our and to your guild's mutual benefit.”

Yes!

There was never any doubt in Rossi's mind that he would become guild master after Paretsky died, but it would be handy to have help taking Sandhurst down. He hid his smile under a tight frown. La Dame Grimes would finally get the ending her manipulations deserved.

Rossi inclined his head. He understood. Clearly.

•   •   •

HE
considered, momentarily, keeping it between himself and Rickenback, but House of Rickenback couldn't take on Sandhurst on its own.

“Book me a meeting with Naidan,” he ordered Fergus when he was back in his rooms. “A private meeting. And I want you to come.” If anyone could find out what Sandhurst was doing, it would be Fergus.

He should have stipulated no food, but by the time he realized it was in the same private dining room as their initial meeting, they were there. Let Fergus sit near the wine spray then.

“You're becoming as bad as Grimes,” Naidan accused when she saw Fergus. “Bringing members of your own house to every meeting.”

“Hardly.” Rossi felt better than he had in months. Maybe this was all he'd needed—something to take his mind off the confluence. “He has no lines, remember. Besides, I want him to do something for us, and I see no point repeating everything.” He smiled, and raised his glass of Lancastrian wine in salute. “Why don't you invite Eda? Save you repeating everything later, and she might be of use to us as well.”

So they waited while Naidan's assistant was called and came in from what looked to be a formal function. Rossi ordered another glass of wine while they waited and had nearly finished that by the time she arrived. He raised his glass to her. “Sweetheart.”

She scowled at him.

“You finally made it.”

“This had better be important, Jordan.” Eda was like her boss, not one to suffer fools.

“We shall see,” Rossi said, the wine making him mellow. “We shall see.”

He summarized for them what he'd learned. “We're not the only ones worried about Sandhurst's trying to take over the cartels. Gate Union is worried, too, because there is a faction inside Gate Union helping them.”

He could see that the news had rocked them, except Fergus, who always knew things weeks before anyone else did and had already pointed out Hurst's new friendship with Roscracia.

“Gate Union doesn't get involved in cartel business,” Naidan said frostily and almost sounded as if she believed it.

Rossi didn't even bother to deny it. “They are also very interested in Rebekah Grimes's whereabouts.”

“Half the galaxy is looking for the ship she's on,” Naidan said. “The media will find her, and soon.”

“Plus they knew she wasn't coming here even though she omitted to tell us where she was going.”

“Do you think she knew she wasn't coming here?” Eda asked.

She'd known. Part of it at least. Otherwise, she would have met Lady Lyan at the confluence itself, and why would Gate Union have seeded Lady Lyan's ship with three spies? Which must have been quite a feat in itself, given Commodore Galenos's reputation.

Rossi ordered himself another glass of wine. “The union offered us a deal. We provide information about the whereabouts of la Dame Grimes as soon as we know it, plus any extra information about what she is doing, and it will help us defeat Sandhurst.”

“How?” Eda demanded, and Naidan asked at the same time, “So what did you tell them?”

The wine arrived. Green Lancian wine. It was the only wine that would do given their conversation. He raised his glass.

“I accepted the deal, of course.”