Rissa and Tregare (7 page)

"One piece of good news, though.
Inconnu
got a clear copy of a message that came in here garbled a few days ago-too weak a signal to punch through atmosphere."

He leaned forward. "You won't appreciate this yet-but it was from
Lefthand Thread,
two months out, and homing! Which means it's a lot closer than that now."

"Left hand? That is good?" She played up to his baiting.

"The Escaped ship you heard about, that I practically took by force. I had reason-Marrigan was going to take it out in unsafe condition. We can't afford to lose
any
Escaped ship-so I sort of strongarmed him into selling. I was younger then-crude methods were al I knew."

"At any rate, you took
Lefthand Thread."

"Not exactly. I took
Spiral Nebula-which
had been UET's
Wellington,
to start with-and rename'd it. Damned near caled it
Hogan's Goat,
it was so fucked up-but we fixed it.'

"And this ship is coming here?"

"Or to rendezvous with
Inconnu-depends
on the ships's situation. But it's moving now, Rissa-it al starts to move!" She looked at him-his face flushed, eyes widened-and said, "The plans you have mentioned, Bran-this is part of them?" His eyebrows lowered. "I'l tel you al of it, Rissa-soon as I know if there's a hell's chance it might work. Al right?"

"Could I not help you decide?"

His palm slapped the table; wineglasses jiggled. "Sure-when I know enough to ask the right questions. Right now, too many loose ends. Even
before
those damned aliens showed up."

"I could guess your plan, I think-but until you wish it, I will not." She rose and put her dishes into the cleaner; when she turned to fetch his, he was bringing them.

He had left the glasses. He said, "Let's finish this in the other room," and took bottle and glasses to a small table there. He arranged two chairs and they sat. After he poured, he looked first at the window before him, then over his shoul-der at another. "Those things should be curtained, for night. We can't see out, but somebody could see in." He looked at her. "Can you sew? There's some material in one of those bottom drawers."

"You have needles? Thread? What of hanging rods?"

"Hell, I don't know. Welding rod, off the scout-I could bend the ends and drive them in the wood. But the sewing-"

"If necessary I will staple the cloth together, as you fasten your papers. I do not mind having to improvise."

"Yeah, I've noticed." Looking down at his wine, he sipped it. "New subject. Rissa-you're here because you want to be?"

"You did not carry me to the aircar. In fact, I carried part of my own luggage and climbed inside quite without help." His hand moved, swirling wine in the glass. "You're not making this easy, are you?"

"I mean to make no difficulties. What would you ask?"

"Do you want to go to bed with me?"

"I do not expect either of us to sleep on the floor, Bran."

"Why won't you give me a direct answer?"

"I will, when you ask a direct question."

"All right! You want to fuck with me, or don't you?"

"I do-of course I do, or I would not be here."

"Then why didn't you say so?"

"I thought the matter was clear enough."

He came around the table, and raised her to stand upright. She accepted and returned his kiss-then his clothes and hers fel to the floor unheeded and she was on the bed, looking up at his taut, unsure smile.

He began gently-that much he had learned on
Inconnu-
but gentleness was only prelude. Their coupling was not unduly brief but, for her, was done too soon. She felt her body move to respond-but then they lay quiet, her response stopped short of fulfillment.

He sighed. "You didn't make it, did you?"

"Not this time. But I began to, Bran. So do not be in too great a hurry-nor will I-and one day it will be as we both wish."

He was off her and across the room, then back with bottle and glasses. He placed them on the bedside stand next to the intercom unit and sat on the bed beside her. His fingers stroked her belly; they reached a ticklish spot; she laughed and wriggled. Then she saw that he touched the scarred area.

"That was done at the Welfare Center. Does it disturb you?"

"Would it disturb
you
if I fathered heirs elsewhere and brought them home for you to raise?"

"I am not ready for such a task. Someday, perhaps-" She sat up. "Bran! Needing heirs as you do, why did you marry me?"
And why have I not told him?

He lunged toward her, pushing both hands into her hair and gripping it. His face pressed against her, his lips between her breasts. His shoulders shook-and only when he raised his head did she realize he was laughing.

"Several reasons," he said. "More than you know. But the one you're asking about-well, one time on
Inconnu
when you were studying the control room and pretending not to, I took your hair dryer apart. I
thought
it was pretty bulky to travel with, but I didn't expect what I found."

"Then-you knew?"

"I'd seen a reverser before, yes. So-"

"Bran-I said, I am not
ready-"

"You don't have to be-yet. I don't know how to work the thing, anyway; sure as peace I hope
you
do. No-the only problem is, will you be ready before I leave? Or will I have to leave sperm in the freezers that came with the zoom-wombs?" Unbelieving, she looked at him. "You would father a child you could not see for-perhaps-decades?"

"It wouldn't be that long for me, of course. But what kind of choice do I have?"

"If I go with you-"

"Where I'm going, that's not possible."

"I can go anywhere you can! If you say I cannot, we shall not remain married."

"As you are
now,
you could-sure. But, Rissa-combat's no place for a woman at the heavy end of pregnancy, or with a young baby. Look-be reasonable-you-"

She lay back. "If you ever tell me your plans, perhaps I will know which of us is correct. Now-may I have some more wine?"

after a silent time, she said, "Bran? What were the other reasons? Why you wanted this marriage, I mean." He looked at her. "On the ship-you got to me. Two things I like are guts and honesty."

"I was not so honest with you."

"Tari Obrigo, you mean? That's not important; you were in hiding. And you'd hardly trust a pirate with anything as valu-able as the reverser." He shook his head. "The only thing that didn't fit was why you let me bluff you into bed in the first place."

"I could not chance it that you were
not
bluffing-I needed to reach Number One. To oblige you in that way seemed a small matter. The body's acts count for little when there is no feeling."

"Yes-I had your body but not you. Except maybe the last night..."

"That night, Bran, I
did
feel. I am glad you knew it."

"Yes. Well, then-when Liesel wanted the marriage as a political move, I thought, all right, here's a chance to see if there's anything to it. Then she told me about the duel, and then I saw it-you scared hell out of me, you know that?

When dal Nardo almost had you, I swore he wouldn't outlive you five minutes!"

"As, of course, he did not. But then?"

"You know the rest. I said I wouldn't touch you until you agreed, and you told me who you really are, and-you suit me, that's all."

"And as I had hoped, I find that you suit me also, Bran Tregare."

She watched him; he was picking at the edge of
the
bandage. "Bran, are you ever going to tell me what has happened to your face?"

"Huh? Oh?-I'd forgotten I still had this on." He got an edge of tape between thumb and forefinger and pulled the bandage free. A few fragments of scab still clung to his cheek; he brushed them away. Where the tattoo had been, Rissa saw a patch of new pink skin.

"So that was it-you have had the markings removed."

"Yeah-about time I quit wearing UET's brand. Especially as the unofficial promotions weren't done too well." He grinned. "You know why I had those added? Well, we were on a course that happened to point at Stronghold when I overstretched my Drive. Chasing a UET ship-caught it and took it, by the way. But the Drive was in trouble-even the best grade of tuning couldn't stop the deterioration. We might have reached a Hidden World and might not-but here's Stronghold; why not try it? We faked some papers and the ship's insigne, and the needle to my cheek made me a captain. But the colors weren't right-you saw. So I logged a mutiny attempt by men long dead-and Gonnelsen had to bash me a bruise to hide the difference, along with a fat lip to make it look better." He laughed. "I told him, 'here's your only chance to hit a captain and get away with it, so enjoy yourself!' "

She shook her head. "From anyone else, that story would amaze me."

"Surprises me a little, too, looking back, Rissa. The wine's all gone. Do you-"

"I have had enough for tonight."

"Of everything?"

"No, Bran. Only of the wine."

So he went to her. Again her response began and built, but fell short. Afterward he said, "Still no luck."

"No-but closer, this time. Do not
fret,
Bran-the fault is not in you but in my past. With your help I must overcome it."

"I don't know much about your past; maybe you should tell me."

"Yes. But not tonight-if nothing more, we have prepared me well for sleep." the intercom buzzed; she woke to see sunlight slanting in through the window above her. Bran's voice said, "Yes, what is it?"

"Direct word from
Lefthand Thread.
They've got what we've been waiting for." Tregare sat up. "Good! How far out were they, Hain, when they made that transmission?''

"Not sure, Captain. Two weeks, maybe."

"So, less now. Let's see-standard decel-ten days, maybe."

"Right. Do you want to send an answer?"

"Yes. Tell Limmer-I assume he's still in command-to land at One Point One and refuel, sell off any surplus cargo. He's to deal with Alsen Bleeker as first choice."

"Bleeker? But he's the one, gave us all the trouble!"

"Not any more, Hain. We-you might say we own him now."

Deverel laughed. "If you say so. Any more for Limmer?"

"Just that we'll be talking with him later-and to advise, soon as he knows when he'll be landing."

"Right. I'll get on it." The intercom went silent; Tregare stood and stretched.

"This is good news, Bran?"

"I've had days start a lot worse." He turned to her. "Who-ever showers first, the other starts breakfast. Your choice?"

She moved across and clambered out of bed. "I do not yet belong in the kitchen. I smell like a goat."

"All right. Don't take too long or the food'll be overdone."

In the bathroom she made a fast job of it, postponing a shampoo for later, and entered the kitchen still drying herself.

"Am I in time?"

"Sure. I put the eggs on last but the meat's close to done. Just serve mine up with a lid over it." She took the spatula and he moved quickly away. She heard splashing and what might have been called singing-then he was back, body dried but damp hair dripping. She had already begun eating; he sat, un-covered his plate, and cut himself a bite.

"Not bad. If the spaceship business goes bust, we can start a restaurant." She smiled but, mouth filled, did not answer.

Finished, she checked the coffeepot; it was not ready. She walked to the front of the cabin and looked out. The sky was clear. She said, "There are fewer clouds here."

"Yeah. The Big Hills wring most of them out. All year round it's drier on this side." Now she smeled the coffee, went to pour it, and sat again. "Bran? I would like to take an aircar and cruise about-ex-plore this side of the hills a bit, perhaps take a closer look at the plains below us."

He shook his head. "Not today-sorry. I'm taking a little trip myself. Business. And the other machine's acting up lately -Kenekke tinkers with it when he has the time, but it's still not dependable. Tomorrow al right?" She hid her irritation. "You do not invite me to join you today?"

"Well, sure-if you want to."

"How soon do you intend to leave?"

"An hour, maybe. Why?"

"That is enough time-I wil be ready." Cheerful again, she left the kitchen and washed her hair. He was gone when she came out, and she had time to groom herself leisurely. She was dressed and ready when he returned.

Outside by the aircar, Deverel waited. "Do you want one of us to come with you, skipper, or both stay here?"

"Both stay, I think. Anse hasn't been to Base Two yet, but he doesn't fly aircars-so no use showing him the way until there's something for him to do there.'

"All right. Anything comes in, we'll call on Channel D."

"Good enough." As Deverel walked toward the scout, Rissa and Tregare entered the aircar. He energized propulsion, waited a moment for the indicators to show ready, and took off at a high slant.

"You have not told me where it is we go. Base Two, you said?"

"Yeah. We just left Base One. Two is where ships can land."

"Your personal spaceport, Bran?" She looked out over the faling ridges as the aircar crossed them.

"It's primitive, Rissa. Only the basic repair facilities, and less fuel storage than I'd like. But I needed a place away from One Point One, where ships could gather."

"And they are gathered?''

He laughed. "Just one-
Carcharodon.
This morning, on the squawkbox, Vanois accepted my terms and moved across the Hills. Rissa-I have another ship!"

She looked at him until her silence drew his gaze. "I was right long ago-back on
Inconnu
-was I not? You build your-self a fleet and-I am certain-intend to arm it. Two questions remain."

They dipped low over a ridge; he turned right, to parallel the formation. "Only two?" he said. "I thought there'd be more."

"In detail, perhaps-but basically only two* How many ships? And where will you take them?"

"You're right." His voice was low. "The rest depends on those two things. Well, then-how many? I don't know yetand I wish I did, for the matter of where to go depends on how many I can gather."