Lost In Translation (35 page)

The hatch stood open and unmanned. After running as fast as she could to get there, Kathryn climbed the ramp tentatively. “Hello?” she called. “Is anyone . . .”

A half-familiar face appeared in the hatchway, and broke into a huge grin at the sight of her. “Translator Bircher! We thought you were dead!” The crewman—Peters, that was his name—looked past her. “Jar rikk, too!”

“What happened here? Is everyone all right?”

“Oh, yeah, they didn't bother us much: searched to make sure we weren't hiding you—and made a mess of the ship in the process—then left us to stew. Cut off spaceport services, of course, but we were already fully supplied, so we just switched to internal power. But what's been happening outside?” He scanned the spaceport over her shoulder. “And where are the others?”

The others. Dr. Chung, who wouldn't even lift a weapon, who had nursed both her and Jarrikk back to health. Jarrikk's mentor, Ukkaddikk. And Jim . . .

“What's wrong?” Peters said. More crew were appearing in the hatchway behind him, now, smiling and pointing and listening, waiting to hear her story. Jarrikk reached her, and took her hand.

The captain must know first,
he thought to her.
And Karak.

I know.
Kathryn squeezed his hand. “I'd better report to the captain, first,” she said. “Translator business.” Those magic words backed Peters up, and cleared the hatchway, but it felt as if a lead curtain had descended between the two Translators and everyone else. “I'm sorry,” she said awkwardly.

“I understand, Translator.” She could sense that he did—he served the Guild, after all—but she could also sense a touch of hurt. But there was nothing she could do about it. “The captain knows you're back by now, of course, but I'll just call the bridge to let him know you're on your way up.”

“Thank you,” Kathryn said, and she and Jarrikk left him in the open hatch.

The captain met them at the door to the bridge. “Translators, I'm thankful you're alive—”

“Not all of us,” Kathryn said. “Translator Ukkaddikk is dead. So is Doctor Chung.” She felt his shock.

“What about Translator Ornawka?”

Kathryn took a deep breath. “He's a traitor,” she said flatly. “He made a deal with Kitillikk to kill the Supreme Flight Leader. When we attempted to rescue her, he tried to kill her again. He's at large somewhere on S'sinndikk.”

“We've got to find him, then—” The captain half-turned, as if to give an order, but Kathryn stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“No. We've got something more important to do.” She still held Jarrikk's hand, and felt his support. “First, Jarrikk and I must contact Karak and tell him what has happened. And then, Captain, you must take us—”

“Back to Commonwealth Central? That course is already plotted, Translator—”

“Captain, please listen.”
He won't like this,
she thought to Jarrikk.

Translator business. I'm starting to hate that phrase.
“You must plot a course to Kikks'sarr.”

“But that's where the Hunter Fleet has gone.” The captain stared at her as though doubting her sanity.

“I know, Captain. We're going to stop their attack.”

Jarrikk wanted nothing more than food and sleep, not necessarily in that order. But instead he stood with Kathryn on the bridge, facing Captain Hall.

“That's absurd. I won't do it.”

“You have no choice,” Jarrikk said. “Translator business. This is a Guild ship and it, and you, are at our complete disposal.”

“Guildmaster Karak—”

“Will certainly confirm that for you.”

“We'll find out about that.” Captain Hall turned. “Communications!”

“Sir!” A young man spun his chair smartly around.

“Contact Guildhall. Urgent priority message for Guildmaster Karak.”

“Again, sir?”

“Yes, again.”

“Again, Captain?” said Kathryn.

“I contacted him the moment the communications blanket lifted, but I wasn't able to tell him much.”

“I see.”

“Dimspace penetration achieved,” the communications officer announced. “Waiting carrier pick-up . . . carrier accepted. Communication with Guildhall now open, sir. Guildmaster Karak online.”

“In here,” the Captain said, and ushered Kathryn and Jarrikk into a small adjoining room, where a dozen blank vidscreens stared down at a small desk and chair. Captain Hall offered the chair to Kathryn, who shook her head, though Jarrikk knew she was just as weary as he. The captain touched a control panel on the desk. One of the screens lit up with Karak's glistening gray face.

“More news, Captain?” said Karak. Then he screeched something in ear-splitting Ithkarite, followed by, “Translators! You're alive!”

“Not all of us, Guildmaster,” Kathryn said, sensing, perhaps, that Jarrikk didn't want to talk to Karak. The ambivalence that had been with him since he unexpectedly awoke after attempting his Sacrifice came back full-force as he looked at the master of the Guild he now felt had been manipulating him all his life. Kathryn reported quickly and succinctly. When she had finished, Karak was silent for a long moment. “Jim Ornawka, a traitor,” he said finally. “This is grievous news, Translators. This will be a serious blow to the credibility of the Guild, by itself, never mind the more broad-ranging consequences . . .”

“We'll worry about the Guild when we have time,” Kathryn snapped. “It's one of those broad-ranging consequences we're a little more concerned about now. Namely, the war.”

“The Commonwealth Fleet is mobilizing. It will attempt to once again stop the warfare between humans and S'sinn . . .”

“It can't make it to Kikks'sarr in time!”

Again Karak was slow in replying. “No. No, it cannot.”

“We can, Karak.”

“It's madness, Guildmaster,” Captain Hall exploded. “They want me to take my ship into a battle zone. Our screens will barely stop a beamer, much less a Huntership bolt!”

“We're not asking you to fight, Captain,” Kathryn said.

“Perhaps,” Karak said, “you will be so good as to explain what you
are
asking.”

Kathryn touched Jarrikk's hand.
What do I say?
she telepathed.
We don't really have a plan, yet.

“Kitillikk's hold on this planet is finished, at least for now,” Kathryn said, Translating for Jarrikk, though Karak couldn't know that unless they told him—and neither of them felt any inclination to tell the Guild yet what they could do. Karak might just decide it was more important to save them and their unique ability for study by the Guild than to allow them to go on a probably futile and possibly fatal peace-making mission. “The High Priest has denounced her, and broadcast the details of her scheme.

“The
Unity
is smaller, lighter, and much, much faster than the Hunterships. We won't have to take as long between jumps to recharge. We should be able to reach the Hunter Fleet before its final jump, and transmit the High Priest's message to all the ships. We believe that most of the ships will abandon Kitillikk and return to S'sinndikk. That will leave Kitillikk with too small a force to face the Earth Fleet, and force her to abort the attack. The Commonwealth can then track her down at their leisure and return her to S'sinndikk for trial.”

Sounds plausible,
Kathryn telepathed when she'd finished talking.

“Madness,” the captain repeated in a growl. “Sec onds after we start transmitting, they'll blow us out of space.”

“We'll rely on you, Captain Hall, to outmaneuver them until the message is sent,” Kathryn said.

Apparently despairing of talking sense into her, the captain appealed to Karak. “Guildmaster . . .”

“I think we must try this plan, Captain,” Karak said. “For the moment the Commonwealth is united here, because of Kitillikk's attack on the Guildhall . . .”

“. . . but the Fleet will arrive either during or after the battle between the S'sinn and the humans. Either side might fire on the Commonwealth ships, and tear the Fleet itself wide open along wounds this latest show of unity has just scabbed over. I fear civil war.”

“Guildmaster, I must register the strongest possible protest!”

“Protest noted. Nevertheless, you will follow the instructions of Translators Bircher and Jarrikk—and keep me informed. Guildmaster Karak out.”

Karak's image vanished. Jarrikk looked at the captain, who scowled back. “Now, Captain,” he said, “please prepare the
Unity
for launch.”

As Peters had noted, the
Unity
already operated on internal power. Only two thousand beats after Captain Hall ungraciously accepted his orders, the
Unity
lifted from the spaceport and bore into space, speeding after the Hunter Fleet.

Jarrikk and Kathryn stood on the bridge hand in hand, watching the home planet of the S'sinn dwindling behind them.
Will this really work?
Kathryn telepathed.
Will the Hunter Fleet really turn on Kitillikk at the word of the High Priest?

Funny how comfortable they had become with something that had been incredible only yesterday, Jarrikk thought. Now they preferred telepathy to Guildtalk, even when it wasn't strictly necessary. He stretched his crippled wing, trying to ease the persistent ache that always grew worse when he was tired.
Many individual S'sinn will,
he replied.
The question is how loyal the captains are to their Flight Leader—or how loyal they were to Akkanndikk. If only a handful turn against Kitillikk, the others will crush them, and we'll be no better off.

Jarrikk made no reply, but he kept holding Kathryn's hand. They no longer grew weary after just a few seconds of telepathy; their neural pathways, altered who-knew-how by the deaths of their symbiotes, seemed to be adapting to the strange signals very well. Now, when he touched Kathryn, he felt only a sense of deep completeness, both from her and because of her, a feedback loop in which it was impossible to tell where she began and he ended. He wanted to touch her even when there was no need for telepathy, and sensed she felt the same. There was nothing of the mating urge about it; it went far deeper than that, even deeper than the Link of the Translators. This was something new, and wonderful—and he had no intention, when whatever was about to happen had finished, of letting the Guild tear apart what he and Kathryn had forged, just to see how it was made.

And if they succeeded, he thought, surely the Guild would owe them that much, at least. Even Karak would set aside the so-called “good of the Guild” this once, at their request.

Wouldn't he?

“I'm tired,” Kathryn said out loud suddenly. “I'm very, very tired.”

So was he, Jarrikk realized. They yawned simultaneously, laughed together, and went from the bridge hand in hand—sensing as they did so the avid curiosity of every one of the bridge crew.

They think we're having some bizarre form of inter-species sex,
Kathryn thought to Jarrikk.
They don't understand the truth.

They walked in warm companionship to Kathryn's door. She paused there and looked up at Jarrikk oddly.
Could there be anything to what they think?
she thought.
Could we ever . . .

Good,
Kathryn thought, then blushed, even as Jarrikk felt her embarrassment.
I mean, I don't feel anything like that when I'm with you, but if you did, I might be willing—I mean . . .
her thoughts faded off in confusion.

They smiled simultaneously, then Jarrikk let go of Kathryn's hand and walked away.

The telepathic bonding ended instantly, but the warmth of her regard followed him up the corridor.

 

Kathryn, savoring that same warmth from Jarrikk's retreating presence, slept almost instantly, then woke to alarms.

An instant later a huge jolt flung her violently out of her bed. The alarms reached new levels of hysteria, then cut off.

Captain Hall's voice came on, harsh and strained. “This is the captain. We have been intercepted by a Huntership at the second jump point. It has grappled with us and is now rotating us to bring hatches in line in preparation for boarding. The Huntership's Captain has made it clear that if we attempt to resist, he will destroy us. Do not offer resistance. I repeat, do not offer resistance.