Linesman (39 page)

Beside him, Rossi's amusement came clearly through the lines.

Orsaya nodded at Gann, who took the comms and flicked it on. “Lady Lyan, Commodore Galenos. Ahmed Gann here, currently on the shuttle. We have a deal to offer.”

Ean smelled the redmint cinnamon of Michelle's amusement again as she said, “Gann.”

“We have the only means of controlling those ships out there,” Gann said.

“You're holding a Lancastrian citizen captive. A member of my personal staff.”

Michelle could consider everyone on the
Lancastrian Princess
her own personal staff, but Ean smiled just the same. Not that anyone could see it under his gag. Once he would have hated to be considered part of the Crown Princess of Lancia's personal staff. Now? He was glad to have found a place among people like Michelle and Abram and Radko. They were “of his line.”

He had to find a way to help them, however. They had helped him, and if anyone deserved to get out of this alive, it was his friends on the
Lancastrian Princess
.

His gaze fell on Jordan Rossi, who didn't have to sing to the lines. He thought at them. Ean should be able to do that, too.

He tried, using the techniques his trainers had attempted to teach him at Rigel's. Nothing. But then, he'd never been able to communicate without sound. He tried harder. The lines couldn't feel him. And why would they want to? It would be like forcing his thoughts on them instead of working with them.

Those old trainers would be laughing now.

Through
Lancastrian Princess
line five, he heard Abram call the mothership. “
Excelsior
, dispatch a party to take and secure the station.”

Soon after that, they saw on-screen a dozen miniwarships—each one as big as the
Lancastrian Princess
, each one bristling with weapons—drop away from the mothership and make for the station.

Gann didn't notice although Orsaya's shoulders twitched once, and she didn't relax until it became obvious the ships weren't coming to the shuttle.

Ean let himself flow with the lines. On board Confluence Station, the first
Excelsior
arrivals fought pitched battles with Admiral Markan's people. By the time the
Excelsior
's soldiers had finished pouring onto the station, Markan was outnumbered five to one. The fight didn't last long.

The main calls through every comms were for medical
staff to deal with heart attacks. Confluence Station seemed to have an epidemic of them.

The two lines eleven waxed and waned in strength. Ean needed to sing to them, to calm them, but he knew Orsaya wouldn't take his gag off.

Ean tried thinking at the lines again. There had to be a way, because every linesman but he could do it.

Afterward, he lay, exhausted, and listened to the sounds of the shuttle, which was so quiet he could hear the air-conditioning again. Even Jordan Rossi had stopped laughing at him and was listening to Michelle and Gann with all his attention.

Maybe Ean should be listening, too.

“So you are proposing a new political grouping? The Alliance, plus the worlds you bring in.”

“As equals,” Gann said. “Twenty worlds, along with whatever you have.”

Ean could smell Michelle's perspiration through line one. This wasn't something easy she was doing here even though she sounded relaxed. “You could bring that many worlds in?”

“Twenty of the best,” Gann assured her. “Plus we have the controller for those ships out there.” He glanced at Ean when he said that. “Together, our new alliance will be the start of something powerful.”

Ean was the only one on the shuttle who heard Michelle's soft sigh. There was a long pause, then she said, strongly, “The Alliance accepts you as equal partners.”

•   •   •

THAT
wasn't the end of it. Gann and Michelle talked for two more hours before Abram finally gave permission for Orsaya's shuttle to approach the
Lancastrian Princess
.

“Weapons down,” Orsaya said quietly to her crew. “No sign of aggression.” She looked as old and as wrung out as Katida had after line eleven had started giving Katida heart attacks.

“Thank God it's Galenos and Lady Lyan in charge,” Gann said as the pilot took them into the designated shuttle bay. “I wouldn't put it past some of Yu's other people to double-cross us.”

They only untied Ean when they had docked. Ean was still pulling his gag off when the air had recycled, and the escort of guards entered. Bhaksir's team was the escort crew. Radko wasn't part of it. Ean checked the lines to see where she was.

In the hospital, joking with the other patients.

Bhaksir bowed to Orsaya and Gann. “Administrator, Admiral. Lady Lyan welcomes you aboard and asks that you join her and Commodore Galenos for refreshments and further discussion. Your crew will be quartered and looked after.”

Orsaya indicated that Ean should go in front of her. He stepped out into the corridor, blinking at the familiarity of it. The music of the
Lancastrian Princess
's lines welcomed him. He was home.

He sang to the lines as he followed Bhaksir, and they came in strongly to welcome him back. All of them, including both line elevens. It was so strong, it forced him to his knees.

Behind him, Rossi muttered something uncomplimentary.

EAN LAMBERT

THE NEW ALLIANCE
was formally ratified six weeks after Ean got back to the
Lancastrian Princess
.

Fifty worlds of the old Alliance—they'd been hemorrhaging worlds while Ean had been kidnapped, Katida told him—and twenty from Gate Union. The Yaolin worlds and most of those from around them in the Pleiades Sector, plus a small number of other worlds who had allied with Orsaya and whom Gate Union had kicked out. One of those worlds was Nova Tahiti, Ahmed Gann's home planet.

“We knew some of the power brokers were unhappy with the way things were going,” Katida said. “But no one was expecting a coup.”

Some of that was due to the linesmen, Orsaya told Katida over the celebration dinner the three of them shared the evening of ratification. They'd been able to hold the Roscracian faction off until Iwo Hurst and Markan had combined forces. Sandhurst had long been working toward taking over the line cartels; Roscracia was happy to help, provided the linesmen in turn supported him in his bid for Roscracian supremacy in Gate Union.

Ean still wasn't sure how he felt about Orsaya, but she and Katida got on well. He wasn't surprised about that.

Orsaya stabbed reconstituted steak with a force that should have dug a hole in her plate. Or bent the fork. “Until the confluence, Paretsky, Rossi, and Naidan kept Sandhurst in check. But once they went out there.” She chewed with single-minded ferocity. “Redmond controlling supply of the lines, Roscracia controlling Gate Union, Sandhurst controlling the linesmen. We could see where it was going.”

Most of the higher-level linesmen were still in the hospital after Ean's inadvertent use of their power.

Rossi, when he'd been asked about that, had snarled, and said, “Lambert has no finesse.” Ean hadn't been meant to hear that, but everything came through the lines now, and Rossi's noise was clearer than others. Orsaya had also said privately to Katida—another thing Ean wasn't supposed to hear, but Katida had passed it on—that a lot of it had to do with having the confluence taken away from them. Many of them were exhibiting classic withdrawal symptoms.

Orsaya attacked another piece of steak. “That's why we became so interested in Ean Lambert,” as if he weren't there.

Ean tried to act as if he wasn't.

“For six months, he was the only level ten doing the lines, and he was good.”

Katida nodded.

“Lines that we had to retune all the time were fixed. We haven't touched them since.”

Katida nodded again.

You still needed a linesman to keep an eye on them. Little things went wrong, like line six when Ean had first stepped aboard the
Lancastrian Princess
.

“I don't know why Rigel kept him hidden.”

Ean did. Now. The other linesmen wouldn't have accepted him. He had to be grateful to Rigel for that.

“If Rigel had been a different person, we'd have used him to go up against Sandhurst. But Rigel.” Orsaya waved a dismissive hand. “He'd be eaten the first day. And Lambert didn't seem overly political or ambitious.”

“No,” Katida said, but Ean thought she almost smiled.

“When Rossi came back talking about line eleven and behaved the same way he had at the confluence, it was obvious the confluence was another ship. We knew we needed Lambert to get that ship for us.”

All three looked up as Abram stopped beside their table.

“Admiral,” Katida and Orsaya said together.

Abram grimaced. Promotion wasn't what he'd planned, he'd told Michelle one evening when the three of them had been alone in the workroom. They had never formally told Ean he couldn't use the couch there, and it was the only place he felt truly at home nowadays.

“You can't refuse it again,” Michelle had said. “That would insult my father.”

Ean didn't think Abram would worry about insulting Emperor Yu if he thought it best for Michelle's safety, but Michelle had added, “Someone has to keep Katida and Orsaya in line, and if not you, who else?” Then she said, “Please. I agree with my father in this.”

Even though that was what she said, Ean could feel through line one it wasn't what she wanted.

“If you don't want him to, then why ask him?” Ean had asked.

It was Abram who sighed. “You can't hold on to the past forever.”

And Michelle had added, “He's public property as much as I am. You are, too. You won't have any choice in what you do, either. But unlike Abram, you and I will be together for a while because you've effectively linked yourself to my ship,” and her smile showed just a hint of the dimple Ean was sure must have annoyed the geneticists so much.

The Alliance wouldn't let him go. Not with the knowledge he had. Before he'd met Michelle and the crew of the
Lancastrian Princess
, being tied to Lancia like that would have been unbearable.

“If the lines are here, I'll be here.” It was more a promise to the lines than it was to Michelle. He'd be there for Michelle, too, because he wanted to be part of the different future she and Abram promised for Lancia.

“Thank you.” Michelle turned back to Abram. “You have to accept this promotion.”

Abram had just raised an eyebrow.

“I'll miss this,” Michelle said.

Abram had sighed again. “So will I.”

•   •   •

DINNER
over, the three admirals left to do whatever admirals did in the lead-up to creating a new political union. Ean got himself another glass of tea and sat in relative peace, listening to the music of the lines. One hundred twenty-eight ships had come out of the void with the new eleven. With so many, he could only pick out the bad notes, but he took time to give special attention to his own eleven's fleet. All lines, including the now-mended media ships, were fine. They made a symphony in his head of life, work, and the stars.

On the wall, separate screens showed reporters Coral Zabi and Sean Watanabe covering the event. Déjà vu. It wasn't that long ago they'd done the same thing at the signing of the peace treaty.

The second meal shift arrived, mingling with the first, who stayed to watch the ratification ceremony.

Captain Wendell stopped at Ean's table, hesitated when he realized who was sitting there, and almost walked away. Then he shrugged and sat down.

Wendell's crew had fared the worst of anyone. They were from the Wallacian worlds, which had stayed with Gate Union. The union had put a bounty on their heads. If they were ever caught in Gate Union territory again, they'd be killed.

Yaolin and Lancia had both offered them citizenship. As yet they still hadn't chosen one over the other although, according to Fergus—and Ean had no idea where he got his gossip from—at Michelle's request Emperor Yu was already moving to decree they become honorary citizens of Lancia, whether they wanted it or not.

Ean nodded at Wendell, who nodded back.

“You're different from what I expected,” Ean said, when the silence became too long and stilted.

Wendell could have learned his steak-eating techniques from Orsaya. He probably had. He swallowed his mouthful and raised an eyebrow but didn't speak.

“Through the lines, you're a cross between a—” Ean stopped. He had the command of Abram and some of the flair of Michelle. “Yet in real life, you're—”

“Human,” Wendell suggested. “Ordinary.”

“Not ordinary.” Never that. “Different to the line view.”

Wendell took a long mouthful of tea. “I expect the lines take on the characteristics of the whole ship, not just one person. And I have a very good crew. Or I did have until you started killing them.”

Ouch. Ean was almost glad to see Fergus and Rossi making their way across. Not that he wanted to see Rossi ever again, but the New Alliance insisted
all
their linesmen be trained, and somehow Ean had become de facto line trainer, along with everything else. Sometimes he thought he'd be crushed under the weight of all he had to do now, but he wouldn't change it. He wouldn't change the lines.

All the lines surged with that thought.

Rossi staggered and collected himself. “Bastard,” he greeted Ean, and Ean wasn't sure if he meant it for the inadvertent line surge or just meant it generally.

“This is it,” someone from another table said, and everyone fell silent as the screens focused on the representatives from the seventy worlds.

It was longer than the last ceremony because this time a representative from each world stepped up to press their palm against the treaty as signature.

Lancia was represented by Emperor Yu. Michelle was among the watching dignitaries, and the camera focused on her a lot. Tall and beautiful, flanked by two equally beautiful but millimeters shorter women who could only be her sisters and two handsome but centimeters taller men who had to be her brothers. Michelle looked tired, and Ean could see by the body language of the other four that they didn't have a lot to do with each other or with their older sibling.

They watched the ceremony in silence.

Finally, the signatories stood together for the obligatory video at the end. Someone gave them glasses of sparkling wine. They raised their glasses.

Everyone in the dining hall raised their glasses, too. Ean raised his own empty tea glass.

“To the New Alliance,” Emperor Yu said.

Every voice in the dining room echoed it. “To the New Alliance.”

•   •   •

EAN
was kept busy. Visiting ships, voice lessons, line training. Plus he had to do enough schmoozing of his own with the military who swarmed around him wanting to know about the ships.

It would have helped if Rigel's lessons had been more about how to deal with the military rather than about working with civilians.

The three linesmen spent a lot of time together.

He was grateful for Fergus, who knew everything and everyone, or if he didn't, made it seem like he did. Sometimes he was even grateful for the brooding presence of Jordan Rossi, who occasionally got exasperated enough to deflect some of their questions. Rossi was master of the barbed put-down.

Sometimes, too, Ean snooped too much through the lines—lines didn't have boundaries like humans did—and it helped to have Rossi's snarling, “Get out of my lines, bastard,” to pull him back to civil behavior.

Every evening at 19:00 hours he, Fergus, Rossi, Engineer Tai, the medic, and Captain Helmo met with the three admirals—Abram, Katida, and Orsaya—for a private speculation about the lines.

On the third night, they discussed the likelihood of two elevens being found in the same region of space.

“Coincidences like that don't happen,” Abram said. “They came together, or one came looking for the other.”

“Or maybe they were simply routed, and this was the only place they could escape to,” Katida said.

They were, as Ahmed Gann had once said, a battered and bedamned group of ships.

“However they got here,” Abram said, “they came from somewhere. And they were fighting someone. We have to expect that one day, their own people will come looking for them. Or their enemies will.”

Orsaya blew out her breath. “I'm not sure I want to meet a force that can rout ships like that so effectively.”

Neither did Ean.

The initial Agreement of Worlds charter the member worlds had signed had made the ships the common property of a combined New Alliance fleet headed by Admirals Galenos, Orsaya, and Katida. Part of that, or so Katida had told Ean, was that no one wanted Lancia in charge, so they'd provided the equivalent of a committee to keep Abram in check.

Ean didn't ask why they thought Abram would be there. There was never any question of that.

“And the other part?”

“There are obviously aliens at war out there. We're your three best admirals to have in such a situation.” Katida had never boasted about her abilities, but she was sure of them. “A war like that could even turn Gate Union and the New Alliance into allies in the future.”

Or Markan could try to make a deal with some of the aliens.

What would the aliens think, when they finally did arrive, to realize that humans had collected their ships and refurbished them to suit themselves? Ean hoped they'd listen to reason.

The ships wanted humans. They'd told him so. They were looking for people to communicate with. Ean suspected a line's definition of “people” was different from that of a human's.

After that, Tai tried to describe line eleven. “It's huge and it's . . . You can feel it, and—”

“Hmm,” Abram said. “Now describe Ean.”

“Ean. He's not—”

“When he sings. What does he sound like?”

“Oh, that.” Tai's voice hushed. “He sounds like space, and people, and— Have you heard him?”

The one thing he seemed to have in common with the other lines was that no one could describe them. Ean supposed that was because no one had the words to describe what lines felt like. But it was embarrassing, all the same.