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the Tampies Kialinninni corral system?
The Senator smiled thinly. Give me credit for a little common sense, Chayne,
he said dryly. Besides which, I don t think anything that drastic or dangerous will
be necessary. The sharks are predators, after all, and predators must have some way
of locating their prey. In time, they ll find Kialinninni on their own.
At which point we settle for a draw.
The Senator lifted an eyebrow. Meaning& ?
Meaning no space horses for us or for the Tampies. They ll be stuck inside their
systems, and we ll be stuck with our Mitsuushi snaildrive.
The Senator s face darkened. At least we ll have the stars.
Some of them. Not very many.
We ll have enough, the other said firmly. All the planets we ll ever need are
within our reach right now. Provided, that is, we don t have the Tampies standing
over us telling us what we can and cannot do with them.
Ferrol s thoughts flashed back to the discoveries Amity had brought back from
its first voyage discoveries that had been overshadowed in both public and official
minds by the excitement of Pegasus calving. Oh, we ll have enough room, all
right, he snorted. But we ll be giving up the rest of the universe in the process.
And maybe for nothing. Now that we know about sharks, the problems Demothi and
everyone before him has had trying to control space horses make sense.
Yes; your predator invading a non-predator s mind theory, the Senator said.
You brought that up about every third question. So what do you suggest we do?
web a shark and offer Demothi a chance to ride it?
Ferrol clamped his mouth shut, the presentation he d so carefully prepared and
rehearsed over the past two days dying in his throat. The Senator was truly and
totally uninterested in obtaining space horse capabilities for the Cordonale; his only
interest was in robbing the Tampies of theirs. Period.
Had that always been his goal? Probably. Dimly, Ferrol wondered why he d never
recognized that. Given your obvious disinterest, he said tightly, I suppose there s
really nothing to discuss.
As I said when you came in, the Senator reminded him, standing up. Now if
you ll excuse me
I presume my commission with the Amity is still valid, Ferrol continued, not
moving. If only because dropping me out now might attract unwelcome attention.
So. What about my ship?
The Senator frowned. What ship is ? Oh, you mean the Scapa Flow, What
about it?
You told me when I signed onto the Amity that you d be using it for private
courier work, he reminded the other. Is that agreement still valid, or are all of my
crewers officially off the payroll now, too?
The other favored him with a long, speculative look. I ve never been impressed
by people who try to keep their foot in the door on their way out, he said coldly.
I have no interest whatsoever in keeping my foot in with you, Ferrol countered,
matching the Senator s tone. I m interested solely in the well-being of my crew.
You owe them some measure of financial security, at least as long as I m still
watching out for your interests aboard the Amity.
The Senator s lip twisted, but he nodded. I owe them nothing; but I suppose I
can go ahead and buy out their contract. If that will be satisfactory& ? he added
with thinly veiled sarcasm.
Quite satisfactory, Ferrol nodded in return, getting to his feet. Thank you,
Senator; and for your time, as well. He turned to go
Chayne?
He turned back. Yes?
If I were you, the other said quietly, I wouldn t count on the Amity remaining
in service for too much longer.
Ferrol stared at him. I don t understand.
The Senator smiled faintly. You will.
Two hours later Ferrol left the Defiance with the others and headed back toward
the Amity. It was a long shuttle ride, which was fine with him. It gave him time to
think.
An hour after arriving at the Amity, he was in the ship s main communications
room with a short, laboriously hand-coded message.
Even with their skyhook prices, the Cordonale s tachyon transceivers were
normally so jammed with messages that delays of twenty-four to forty-eight hours
were not uncommon. But Ferrol s status as exec of a major Starforce ship gave him
an impressive priority factor, and barely thirty minutes later the central Earth
transceiver relayed an acknowledgment of the message from the Scapa Flow.
The Senator might be willing to settle for a draw. Ferrol wasn t& and if no one
else was interested, then he and the Scapa Flow would just have to do it on their
own.
Chapter 23
For the next four days the Amity remained in Earth orbit, waiting for orders, while
conflicting rumors as to what those orders might be swept through the ship like a
sequential set of gas leaks. When they finally came, it was a distinct anticlimax: Amity
would return to Solomon to trade Man o War for its next space horse. The
breeding program, apparently, would continue.
They were back in Solomon system an hour later, and within a few more had
made orbit around the planet. There they were met by a Tampy ship and the
cumbersome but reasonably straightforward process of switching space horses was
performed. Man o War and the Tampy ship left, leaving Sso-ngü and the other
Handlers to settle in for a few hours of taking turns under the amplifier
helmet introducing themselves to the newcomer, Rrin-saa had once tried to explain
it. The same hours on Amity s human half were considerably less filled, with
activities consisting mainly of last minute checks, idle conversation, and practice in
saying Sleipnir instead of Man o War when referring to the source of the ship s
main motive power.
Several days were normally allotted for the welcoming/acclimation procedure. But
Sleipnir was a quick study; or else the extensive practice Amity s assembly-line
schedule had forced on its Handlers was beginning to pay off. Whichever, within a
single day less than forty-eight hours after leaving Earth Amity was ready.
And for the next six weeks, as per orders, that was how it remained. In Solomon
orbit, and ready.
Sorry to wake you, sir, the bridge officer said apologetically. But the overcode
on this was marked urgent.
That s all right, Roman assured her, rubbing the last bits of sleep from his eyes
and shrugging on a robe before switching on the intercom s visual. He keyed in to
the laser comm circuit Solomon tachyon station, this is Captain Roman, he
identified himself. Acceptance code follows. He keyed the sequence into his
terminal.
Acknowledged, the station said a few seconds later. Beginning transmission.
Roman leaned forward, mentally crossing his fingers. If this wasn t, in fact, some
kind of orders
TO RESEARCH SHIP AMITY, SOLOMON: FROM COMMANDER
STARFORCE BORDERSHIPS EXTENSION, PRE-PYAT:
:::URGENT-ONE:::URGENT-ONE:::URGENT-ONE:::
HUMAN/TAMPLISSTA STUDY TEAM AT NCL 9862 OVERDUE. AMITY
TO PROCEED IMMEDIATELY PREPYAT; CONTINUE ON TO 9862 WITH
RESEARCH SHIPS ATLANTIS, STARSEEKER, AND JNANA IN TOW.
FURTHER INFORMATION AVAILABLE FROM RESEARCH SHIPS.
VICE-ADMIRAL MARCOSA, COMBOREX, PREPYAT CODE/ VER
*@7882//53
2:16 6 MAY 2336
GMT///ESD
Roman read the message twice, a cold chill settling into his stomach. There was
something wrong here. Something very wrong&
Any orders, sir? the bridge officer s voice prompted. From her tone, it was
clear she was desperately hoping there were some.
Roman took a deep breath. Alert the Handler, he told her. We re Jumping to
Prepyat as soon as he and Sleipnir are ready. Number One web crew to start
prepping their equipment we ll be taking three ships in tow, and we ll need to run
tether lines to them. He hesitated. And wake Lieutenant Kennedy. Tell her I want
her dressed and on the bridge in fifteen minutes.
The three ships were grouped tightly together a hundred meters away from the
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