The Ship Who Sang (17 page)

Helva glared at him, infuriated to the core by his compound insults, arrogant manners, twisted arguments, veiled blackmail and outright bribery. How he had ever got to be a supervisor she didn't know, but she had her rights and one of them was to choose her directing personnel and . . .

‘If you've come to apologize, Niall Parollan . . .'

‘Apologize? Are we late or something? They just now gave us the A-O,' a baritone voice shouted into her audios.

She paused long enough to distinguish half a dozen chattering voices.

‘Who wants to board?' she demanded.

‘She sounds mad about something,' came a hoarse whisper.

‘We're from brawn barracks and we'd very much like to . . . to . . .'

‘Court her, that's the term, brasshead,' prompted the hoarse whisperer.

‘Permission granted,' Helva said, trying not to sound as sour as she unaccountably felt.

Seven persons, five men and two women, crowded onto the lift, arguing and hollering about bruised feet and ribs all the way up. Helva could feel the strain on the lift mechanism, then bodies exploded into the lock as if in free-fall,
scrambling, to be the first to salute her. Helva stared down at the handsome, grinning faces; strong, tall people all eager to please her, to court her, to be her brawn.

Others arrived as the news circulated that the XH-834 was being courted. In fact Helva sent the lift back down as soon as the newest arrival stepped into the lock. So it wasn't surprising that Kurla Ster could step into the lock without advance notice.

‘Hey, don't gawk, girl. Come on in and take your chances with the rest of us,' someone encouraged her.

‘She's not competition, brawns,' Helva sang out. ‘Let her through to the pilot's cabin.'

Kurla raised one hand as if to protest, her face reflecting confusion and embarrassment. Before she could verbalize, she was pushed through the crowd and into the cabin.

‘Nothing's happened to the Solar, Kurla?' Helva asked, the moment the door shut on the noise.

Relief washed away the uncertainty as Kurla cried, ‘You
do
care about him.'

‘I respect Solar Prane as an artist and as a human being,' Helva replied, choosing her words carefully, wondering if Parollan were behind this visit.

‘Then why did you refuse the assignment when he specifically asked for you?' There was a shrill
note to the girl's voice, although she was trying hard to speak evenly.

‘I have not refused the assignment.'

Kurla's lips tightened angrily. ‘Then Ansra Colmer
has
been able to keep your name off.'

‘I don't know anything about that, Kurla. I have been approached . . . unofficially . . . and I was very flattered that Solar Prane asked for me. But I have also made it plain . . . unofficially . . . that I do not want another assignment with a temporary brawn.'

‘I don't understand. I thought it was interference from Colmer. That you didn't realize he wanted you. Don't you realize there's not another ship that even knows who Shakespeare was, much less quotes him on cue? And he thought you might even like to play the Nurse. He was honestly impressed with your reading on the way here. Why, you're so perfect, it's like an answer to an impossibility. And he's got to have the very best there is. It's got to be perfect . . .' she fought to control her voice. ‘It's just got to be perfect.'

‘Because it's the end for him?'

Kurla seemed to crumple in on herself and sagged against the bulkhead, unbidden tears in her eyes.

‘God spare me a woman's tears,' Helva said, angry and annoyed. ‘So it's his swan song and you've decided that I'm the ship to sing it?'

‘Please . . . if you've a gram of humanity in
you . . . !' Kurla covered her tactless mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.

‘Actually, about 22 kilos of me is very human, Kurla . . .'

‘Oh, Helva, I'm so sorry,' she stammered. ‘I'm so sorry. I had no right to come here. I'm sorry. I thought if I could just explain . . .'

Awkwardly she got to her feet, her muscles straining.

‘I'd appreciate it if you'd forget I came here,' Kurla went on in a very stiff, formal voice, fumbling for the door release. ‘It is always a mistake to act on impulse.'

‘Is it true that not one of the others know Shakespeare?'

‘
I
wouldn't demean myself with lies.'

‘So Ansra is making it very difficult.'

The pride seemed to drain out of Kurla and she leaned her head wearily against the door for a moment, defeat showing in every curve of her slender body.

‘She implies the most despicable things about him. She's said . . . never mind. But she is undermining him with the rest of the cast. And . . . and Helva, I don't trust her.'

‘Then have her replaced, you little idiot.'

‘Me? What could
I
do? I'm a medical attendant.'

‘Kurla, the man's dying. You can't be deluding yourself about that . . .'

‘No. That's the one delusion I don't have.' Something seemed to pull the girl erect then. ‘I
just don't want him cheated out of this last perfect performance. His acting is all he has left and he's so good at it.'

‘You've influence with him, though. Get him to replace Ansra.'

Kurla shook her head sadly. ‘He won't because he believes that she's the best Juliet available so he'll put up with her . . . temperament. And . . .' Kurla hesitated, the struggle with honesty apparent in her expressive face, ‘she was, when they rehearsed back at Duhr. Then . . . she changed. Overnight. Prane won't do anything. And she'll destroy him, Helva. I know it. Somehow she'll destroy him.'

‘Not while I've got my eye on her, she won't,' Helva replied firmly.

The speed with which Chadress Turo arrived afterward struck Helva as suspicious, but she knew Kurla's visit had not been planned by Parollan. And she liked Chadress. He could not have been retired very long, for his step was springy and an old, unaltered shipsuit outlined a strong, muscular body. He wore a clutch of achievement stars but no honors, which meant he had plenty but was no braggart.

‘Welcome aboard, Chadress Turo of Marak. It's nice to have a partner, however briefly.'

Chadress caught the caustic undertone. ‘Hope I'm not the cause of your regrets?'

‘No. You're the first happy face I've seen in the last two hours.'

His eyes twinkled. ‘You've been put into coventry by the brains and I had to be smuggled aboard to avoid outraged brawns. Oh, they'll all forget their pique. They always do. However, officially, you're in very good odor. Supervisor Parollan is taking personal credit for convincing you to accept . . .'

‘The nerve of that pipsqueak . . .'

‘I thought so,' laughed Chadress. ‘Well, no matter. I'm not the only one who thought you'd be the only ship to do the job right and I've only rumors . . . and legends . . . to go by. But it's going to be a tricky mission with so much at stake, and so many explosive . . .'

‘Personalities?'

Chadress laughed. ‘I've met many actors – I'm a classic buff myself, that's why I was called back . . .' he paused, his eyes seeing a middle distance, a slight frown on his face. ‘In fact I leaped at the opportunity. Some of us should be allowed to die in harness. No matter. Here's the mission tape,' and he dropped it in the slot. Before he touched the playback switch, he closed the lock and turned off all but the console audio. Then he eased into the pilot's chair and settled himself to listen.

Helva was amazed at how much of the tape's information she knew. The Nekkarese com man had had most of it correct.

A survey ship on a routine mission had intercepted pulsed energy emissions of tremendous power near Beta Corvi. They tracked the
emissions to the sixth planet, a methane-ammonia giant, and assumed an orbit. Before they could prepare probes for exploration in such a corrosive atmosphere, they were contacted by the Corviki.

‘“It felt like pressure, as if a giant hand were covering my head and pressing knowledge into my brain,”' was the taped comment of the survey ship captain.

The unusual form of communication was nevertheless precise enough for the Corviki to grasp the nature of their unexpected visitors and to discover a commodity which they, unimaginably sophisticated scientifically, wanted.

‘“I guess the best analogy,” the captain of the ship went on, “is that of the pure researcher who has devoted half a century to an intensive study of some esoteric subject. He masters it and finally has time to look around him and discovers that other things exist . . . like girls,” the captain snickered, “and sex. He understands the theory but not the application, and he sure wants to learn.”'

Romeo and Juliet
was a sample of the merchandise that had aroused the Corviki curiosity. If acceptable, the human company would teach understudies the full play, with movement adapted for the free-fall condition of Beta Corvi. Payment would be the Corviki process of stabilizing certain isotopes in the transuranian group whose power potential was unrealizable due to an exceedingly short half-life. Central Worlds
badly needed such a process and the XH-834 was to ensure the success of this dramatic mission.

‘Well, we'll give it the old home-world try,' Helva said.

‘You don't sound so sure.'

‘It sounds all too simple. For instance, this psyche transfer: how do we know it won't develop some unexpected snag and leave our people trapped down there in Corviki envelopes?'

‘That's one reason we're equipping you with an override and a time control.'

‘Suppose the Corviki override me because they adore Colmer's Juliet?'

Chadress grinned at the notion, but threw the schematic picture of the transceiver circuitry onto the pilot's console. ‘Every eeg expert in the galaxy has had a go at these. There are no extraneous circuits, nothing that is not accounted for in the schematics. Furthermore
we
manufactured them, not the Corviki. Now, they do specify that 7 hours is the endurance limit for our life form.'

‘Ahah!'

‘Cool it. The transceiver has a time control, set for the maximum of seven hours, our time, so nothing could happen.'

‘After the maximum period, what happens to the personality if . . .'

‘Don't invent problems. We've got enough. However, I did speak to the Survey Ship Captain and he was most encouraging about the transfer. In fact, he said it was perfect for a bunch of
actors. You
think
that you want to be on the surface of the planet. And you are! No pain, no strain. Simplicity itself.'

‘Simplicity has a habit of expanding into catastrophe!'

Chadress called her a pessimist and went on with the briefing. She thought of half a dozen factors that could alter disastrously betwixt here and Beta Corvi, the least of which was bringing in an unknown device.

The adjustment to be attached to herself was even simpler. Even ingenious, she admitted, examining the compact device under microscopic lenses. It would link several infinitesimal strands already embedded in her cerebrum: one which extended deep in the area controlling the optic nerves, for the psyche transfer was triggered by this portion of the human brain. The other two were to link cross-over reflexes that would enable her to time and to disconnect the psyche relay for the rest of the mobiles. All three synapse attachments were self-activating and did not appear on the pilot's board.

The hookup had to be made with Helva under anesthesia, and she disliked that part intensely. It was unnerving for her to hear the chief of Regulus Base (no less) mouth the pitched syllables that triggered the panel that was the only access to her shell behind the titanium column. It seemed she hovered in an eternity of vulnerability before he touched the anesthesia
release. She instinctively struggled against unconsciousness. Was that how poor 732 had felt? Or had her madness banished fear?

Helva's thought was no sooner formulated than she was conscious again. Startled, she gazed out into an empty cabin, irritated that Chief Railly dared leave her unprotected. Then she was aware that considerable time had elapsed since the chief had spoken – 18 hours, 20 minutes and 32 seconds, to be precise.

‘Awake again, Helva?' and Chadress stepped into her lock. ‘I say, they certainly timed it to the exact second. I'm to ask if you've a headache?'

‘Headache? How could I? I've no pain reflexes.'

Then she looked around her main cabin, where transceivers had been stowed by her couches, and wall units had been added to accommodate the additional personnel. Bunks had been added to all her cabins and another table fitted into the pilot's cabin.

‘I'm a ruddy troopship.'

‘Indeed you are,' Chadress agreed, ‘and the troupe is assembling.'

Five men ascended in the lift and were introduced by Chadress, but she found it easier to think of them as the parts they would play. The introductions were cut short by sirens and the advent of a fleet of ground vehicles.

‘Ansra's made the scene,' the man who played Prince Escalus announced in a dry voice.

No-one seemed sorry when Chadress refused any boarders, including Chief Railly. As he took the restriction in good part the others had to and Ansra was reduced to waving and smiling at her admirers as she was lifted smoothly lock-ward.

‘Here I am again, Helva,' she said in a bright, glad way that certainly didn't deceive Helva.

‘Welcome aboard. Miss Colmer.' You feed me the cue, Helva thought to herself, and I'll read the appropriate line.

Immediately Central Com – and it wasn't Niall Parollan's voice – gave her clearance for the Orbital Station. The shuttle run was fast, and in no time Helva was at the free-fall lock.

The scene was reminiscent of the Duhr landing: Davo, Solar Prane and Kurla the central figures of a smiling cluster. But here, the whole cluster entered, all of them floating with excellent control into the cabin, pushing down to the couches and securing themselves for maneuver and acceleration. There was neither wasted time or motion.