The City Who Faught

Anne McCaffrey

 

PROLOGUE

 

"How long?" Amos ben Sierra Nueva said

desperately.

 

"Another forty-five minutes, esteemed sir," the tech-

nician answered in a voice flat with focused

concentration.

 

Amos touched the pickup in his ear and turned back to

the low hills ahead. They were covered in pine forest, or

had been, until about an hour ago. Now they were burn-

ing, a furnace of resin-fueled candles fifty meters high.

The invaders had barred their own way with the blast of

beam-fire from the aircraft, but they seemed lazily indif-

ferent about inflicting casualties on their own forces. Hie

Bethelite nobleman ground his teeth in fury at that lord-

ly disdain; unfortunately, it seemed justified.

 

For now. Most of the resistance to the Kolnari

invasion had come from Bethel's planetary con-

stabulary, and the Guardians of the Temple. Those few

who didn't see the invasion as punishment for the sins

of godless young Amos ben Sierra Nueva and his fol-

lowers had, of course, resisted. The faithful had

effectively offered their throats to the pirate knife.

Sheer luck that Amos and those followers had been

preparing even if their efforts had been made against

the day when the Guardians came for them.

 

"Everything is in place, my brother," said the man

beside Amos in the rear seat of the pickup. Joseph ben

Said was a commoner Ñ worse than that, a bastard

from the slums of KerissÑbut he had been the first of

Amos' followers, and had proved to be the most loyal.

 

. Stating

 

Not to mention certain skills, Amos reminded himself.

 

"Take me forward to the bunker," he said, and cut off

Joseph's protest with a brusque chop of his hand.

 

The gunner behind the pintle-mounted launcher

swayed as the driver gunned the fans and slid the

vehicle down the dirt track. He was inexperienced;

they all were. The Second Revelation had trained in

secret with their hoarded weapons, preparing for the

Second Exodus to Al Mina. Official Temple policy held

there was no need to venture beyond Bethel when

three centuries of valiant breeding left the Chosen still

thin on the ground in the initial area of settlement.

There had been no time to acquire much real skill with

the tools of destruction. The measures had been

insurance, really, in case the Elders actually were will-

ing to use force to prevent the settlement of the Saffron

system's other habitable planet

 

Ahead, the fire throbbed and roared. The pines

were a native variety; candlestick trees, they were

called. They were explosively flammable this time of

year, and the air was thick with the heavy resinous

smoke. Dust spurted from under the car as they swung

behind the bunker, just now thrown up with farming

machines and covered with raw dirt The driver backed

and then let the vehicle settle on its flexible skirt, keep-

ing the fens running and the gunner's line of sight just

over the top of the mound.

 

"Good man," Amos said, thumping him on the

shoulder before he hopped down and ducked to enter

the bunker.

 

A display film had been tacked to one wall. It showed

footage from a pickup located a kilometer down the

road. Haifa dozen men and women in coveralls and

caps were talking into communicators or hovering

over a schematic display on a rickety camp table. In the

bunker, the air was full of a crackling tension, louder to

the nerves than the burning forest was to the ears.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT     3

 

Amos nodded \o...the officer, he reminded himself. No

longer friends and retainers, but warriors.

 

"They are coming," Rachel bint Damscus said.

 

Her plain bony face was tightly impassive. She was

an info-systems specialist, rare for a woman on Bethel,

where most females held to traditional feminine

careers like medicine or literature, Joseph made her a

formal bow.

 

"You are well, lady?" he said.

 

She gave a curt nod, then turned back to Amos.

"They hit the forest with some sort of indirect-fire

incendiary weapon, and now they are advancing

through it Powered vehicles. Fusion-bubble neutrino

signatures, fairly heavy ones."

 

"They probably do not know how common bad fires

are here," Amos said. He worked a tongue in a mouth

gone dry. Bethel vehicles used stressed-storage

batteries.

 

Rachel was holding up well, better than he had

expected. She had a violent temper, and he suspected a

buried streak of hysteria. She was also a daustrophobe:

the bunker would add that distress to her burdens. The

more credit to her, for conquering her phobia.

 

"They thought to mask their approach in the

flames," he said aloud.

 

Their first ambush had killed several of the invader

infantry. Even a few hours had shown how the

strangers reacted to a challenge: strike back immedi-

ately with overwhelming power. He cleared his throat

and asked calmly:

 

"How far are they from the mine?"

 

"Two kilometers and closing. Closing at twenty kph.

Onscreen."

 

The view through the screen tacked to the wall

trembled. That meant something was shaking the

ground under the pickup, even though it was spiked to

solid rock. Hills rose on either side ahead, everything

 

4     ArmeMcCaffrvy fcf SM Stirling

 

on fire except for the narrow stream and the road

beside it, down at the base of the massive granite slopes.

Shapes were moving through the burning trees on the

lower slopes. Dull-gleaming shapes, hard to make out

against the background, as if the surfaces were adapt-

ing themselves, chameleon-fashion, as they moved.

Low turtle-backed outlines, with long weapons jutting

from their sloped forward plates, the barrels built up

from coils or rings, some sort of wave-guide or

electromagnetic launcher.

 

One fighting vehicle pivoted. The muzzle flashed,

bright even through the hot-iron glow of the fires. The

viewscreen fogged slightly as a pickup was blasted into

plasma, then cleared as the system compensated by

spreading input from the others.

 

"Well, that gives us a due to the sensitivity of their

detectors," Joseph said. He leaned forward. "Everyone

is out of there?"

 

"Falling back to the launching ground. There is

nobody within fifteen kilometers," Rachel said. "We are

closest"

 

"Do it, then," Amos said.

 

She touched a control surface. The screen flashed

white and went blank. Haifa second later an actinic

glare flashed through the bunker, reflected in from the

rear entrance but still bright enough to make their

goggles darken protectively. Sound and shock followed

in a few heartbeats: a roar like God returning in anger,

an earthquake rumble through the soil, then a wave of

heat and pressure making their ears pop.

 

"So Keriss died," Rachel said absently, to herself.

"Tamik saw it He said the flash was like the sword of

God, and the waves a kilometer high when they broke

over the Peninsula mountains."

 

"Everyone leave," Amos said quietly, glancing down

at the watch woven into his sleeve. There was nothing

else to say. Rachel's family had lived in Keriss, the

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT     5

 

capital city of Bethel. So had most of Amos' surviving

kindred, and Joseph's, if he had any. "We will rendez-

vous in forty minutes at the shuttle." He paused. "And

Rachel?"

 

"Yes, sir?"

 

"Well done. Very well done."

 

When they left the bunker, the pillar of cloud was

already flattening out high in the stratosphere.

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

"SSS." The sensor overwatch AI filtered a possible

message out of the interstellar background and passed

it through to the controller of Station SSS-900.

 

"Hissing again, are we?" Simeon muttered absendy

at the subprogram, and turned his attention back to

the simulacrum.

 

Napoleon had just pushed the British north of Not-

tingham. Wounded, exhausted soldiers sprawled

across the fields where the defeated army camped, as

the rain drained down, gray skies darkening over

trampled muddy fields. Away across the rolling

landscape fires still flickered, where dead men lay

gaping around smashed cannon. The women were out

with lanterns, looking for their husbands and sons.

 

A dispatch rider came clattering up to Wellesley's

tent with news of the Jacobin uprisings in Birmingham

and Manchester, and a landing of the Irish rebels. The

big beak-nosed man stood in the open flap of the tent

as the dripping militiaman saluted clumsily and

handed over the dispatches, blinking in the driving

rain.

 

"The devil with it," he muttered, turning to the map-

table within and unfolding the heavy wax-sealed

papers. "It's too bad. If we'd won that last battle ... if

wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Still, it was a

damned near-run thingÑa very near thing."

 

He looked up. "You are to inform His Majesty that he

and the royal family must take ship for India

 

THE CrrY WHO FOUGHT     7

 

immediately. TheseÑ" he extended the reports from his

folding desk "Ñ are for Viceroy Arnold in Calcutta."

 

I concede, the computer said.

 

"Of course," Simeon answered smugly.

 

He switched his primary visual focus from simula-

tion back to the lounge and looked down at the big

holotable. An excellent model for use in war-gaming,

the map of England was scattered with unit symbols.

Finer and finer detail could be obtained by magnifying

individual sectors Ñ right down to die animate models

of soldiers and horses. Or tanks and artillery, for some

of the other games. He focused: on a horse tiredly nip-

ping at its neighbor on the picket line, on the stubbled

gap-toothed face of a sentry yawning.

 

"SSS."

 

"What is that?" Simeon asked.

 

The answer floated up into his awareness from the

peripherals; tightbeam signal, modulated subspace

waves, picked up by one of the passive buoys out on the

fringes of the system. A subroutine had flagged it as

possibly interesting,

 

Hmmm, he thought. Odd. It might just be the last

fading noise from a leaking mini-singularity about to

go pop. The things tended to cluster in this area, which

was full of third-generation stars and black holes,

though this one tasted like a signal. The problem with

that was that there was nothing much out that way;

nothing listed as inhabited for better than two hundred

lights. Certainly no traffic into the sphere of Space Sta-

tion Simeon-900-X's operations. He would have to see

if anything more came of it. Presumably if someone

was calling, they would try again.

 

Idly, he ran a checklist of station functions. Life-

support was nominal, of course; any variation of that

was red-flagged. One hundred seventy-two craft of

various sorts from the liner Altair to barge-tugs were

 

8     AimeMcCaffrey&SM. Stirling

 

currendy docked. Twenty-seven megatons of various

mineral powders were in transit, in storage, or under-

going processing in SSS-900-X's attendant

fabrication modules. Two new tugs were under con-

struction in the yard. A civic election was underway,

with Anita de Chong-Markowitz leading for council-

rep in station sector three, the entertainment decks.

Death in the Twenty-First was still billing as most

popular holo of the month. Simeon sneered mentally,

with a wistful overtone. Historical dramas were

impossible for a serious scholar to watch because the

manufacturers would not do their research.

 

It was not necessary to investigate much more in detail.

With the connectors, shellperson Simeontyos SSS-900-X.

Little awareness remained of the stunted body inside its

titanium shell in the central column of the lounge. He

was the station, and any weakness or failure was, like

pain, intense and personal. As far as his kinesthetic sense

was concerned, he was a metal tube a kilometer long, with

two huge globes attached on either end.

 

The Abair was in. Simeon had docked die incoming

ship with his usual efficiency but without his usual

close scrutiny. He deliberately turned his attention

away from disembarking passengers, refusing to study

their faces, especially the faces of the women.

 

Radon's replacement as Simeon's brawn was on this

ship, and all he knew was her work record and her name.

Channa Hap. Probably from Hawking Alpha Proxima

Station, Hap being a common surname for those born in

that ancient and wealdiy community. He wasn't entirely

sure. He'd fought Radon's retirement too hard to have

much personal interest in his replacement All right, I was

sulking, he told himself. Time to get with the program. He'd

established a subroutine to trash the applications of

replacements. That hadn't been personal, merely a ploy.

 

He hadn't wanted her, but they were stuck widi each

other now.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

Liners docked at the north polar aspect of the tw<

linked globes diat made up the station. The tube was;

kilometer long and half diat wide, more than enougl

for the replenishment feeds and a debarkation loungi

fancy enough to satisfy die station's collective vanity

twenty meters on a side and fifteen high, lined witi

murals, walled and floored with exotic space-minec

stone, with information kiosks and everything else <

visitor needed to feel at home.

 

"I'm Channa Hap," a woman said to one of th<

kiosks. "I need directions to Control Central."

 

So that's her. Long high-cheekboned face, medium-

length curling dark hair.

 

"You are expected, Ms. Hap," the terminal said. Ii

had a mellow, commanding voice syndied from several

of Simeon's favorite actors, some of whom dated back

to the twenty-fourth century. "Do you wish trans-

portation?"

 

"If diere's no hurry, I'll walk. Might as well get used

to the new home."

 

"This way, please."

 

She nodded. Simeon froze the visual and studied

her; tall, athletic. Dressed plainly in a coverall, but she

had presence. Nice figure, too, if you liked subde curves

and rolling muscle. A fox.

 

In an amazingly short time the door-chime signaled

a request for admittance. Feeling as nervous as he had

when meeting his first brawn, Simeon said, "Come,"

and die door swished open.

 

Channa entered. He dosed in on the viewer to what

he thought of as normal conversational distance. That

was an advantage sometimes, since softshells couldn't

get to their psychologically comfortable distance widi

you. She had delicate, clear-cut features and earnest

dark eyes, and the curly black hair was swept back from

her face in a disciplined no-nonsense fashion. A

 

10

 

ArmeMcCaffrey 6f SJVf, Stirling

 

vid-show heroine. Perfect! he thought FUget things off on

the right foot. He switched on a screen with his own

"face" Ñ the way he'd imagined it, ruggedly handsome

with a tan, a Heidelberg dueling scar, level gray eyes,

dose-cropped blond hair and a Centaurijets fen cap Ñ

and spoke aloud:

 

"Hubba-hubba!"

 

The dark eyes widened slighdy, "Excuse me?"

 

He laughed, "That's ancient Earth slang for 'sexy

lady.'"

 

"I see."

 

The words were so dipped Simeon could almost

hear them ping on the deck as they fell through a short

silence.

 

Ah, geesh, he thought, this is going realty well. "Urn, I

meant it as a compliment." Why didn't they send me a male

brawn? he asked himself, conveniendy forgetting his

request form. Male bonding he knew about

 

"Yes, of course," she said coolly. "It's just not a type of

compliment that I'm particularly fond of receiving."

 

She's got a nice voice, Simeon thought uneasily. Pity she

seems to be a bitch. "What sort of compliments do you

accept?" he asked in a tone of forced jocularity which

wasn't easy to manage through a digital speaker.

 

"I accept those that deal with my quick learning

ability, and my efficiency, or that acknowledge I'm

doing a good job," she said, moving further into the

room and taking a seat before his column. Until she

had finished speaking, she did not look directly at

him.

 

"The sort of compliment you'd give a servo-

mechanism, if you gave servo-mechanisnis compliments,''

he said.

 

"Exactly." She smiled sweedy and folded her hands.

 

"You've an interesting attitude, Ms. Hap," he said,

laying a little stress on the ancient honorific. If she wants

to get formal, Ftt show her formal. "Most of the women

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT     1 ]

 

I've worked with didn't object to an occasional compli-

ment on their appearance."

 

She raised her brows slighdy and cocked her head,

"Perhaps if they objected you simply dismissed it as

being part of an 'attitude.*"

 

tcoiddcry, iffcouldcry, Simeon thought He'd gotten

lonely these last weeks without Tell Radon. He'd

begun to anticipate the^/un he'd been going to have

with a new brawn. Someone to talk to.... How could

they have matched him with this... ice princess? They

knew he was easy going, sure, but he'd given them a

very good idea of what he was looking for in a brawn.

Exact specifications, which Channa Hap hadn't met,

fully. Was someone in Central taking advantage of his

good nature, somehow hoping he could straighten her

out, or maybe loosen her up?

 

"I find your attitude rather interesting," she mur-

mured, narrowing her eyes. "Have you checked your

hormone levels recendy?"

 

"That's a rather personal remark...." Maybe they just

want me to blast her out an airlock when nobody's looking.

 

" 'Sexy lady' isn't?" She smiled and raised a sardonic

brow.

 

"That was a compliment, intended to put you at ease.

Have you checked your own hormone levels lately?"

 

There was silence.

 

After a moment she sat forward and looked at him

levelly. "Look, even though it hardly seems worth the

trouble of officially submitting my orders to you, on a

practical level we may as well just admit that, for the

time being, we're stuck with each other. You need a

brawn and I'm here. I'm well trained, experienced and

hard working. We don't have to love each other to work

together."

 

"True, but it gets a little cold trying to maintain your

distance with someone you see every day. It would be a lot

easier if we could be friends. Look, why don't we just

 

12

 

Awu McCaffrey fcf SM. Stirling

 

erase what just happened and start over? Whaddaya

 

say?"

 

She pursed her lips, then smiled. "I'm game. But let's

start slow, and we'll avoid the personal remarks for the

time being, okay?" She cocked her head at him and

raised an eyebrow. "You start."

 

"Hello, you must be Channa Hap. Welcome to the

SSS-900-C."

 

"Thank you. I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Nah, I always have time for a pret... colleague."

He detected a slight narrowing of her eyes. "My, you

sure are efficient looking."

 

"Well, and so are you, you're so steely and all."

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about

you."

 

She stood up. "This isn't going to work."

"My fault. I shouldn't have said that. Look, you must

be tired from all the travel you've been doing. Why

don't you settle in, look around, relax a little Ñ things

might look different"

 

"This has nothing to do with my being tired or your

hormones...."

 

"What is this fixation you have with my hormones?"

"Shut-up-and-listen-to-me." Channa was giving him

a look that he could almost feel. She paused and held

up her hands, sitting down again. 'Just listen," she said

earnesdy. "1 think that it would be best if we put our

cards on the table. I haven't studied your files in full

yet," she admitted with a tired smile. "I just couldn't

make myself do it But I do know quite a bit about you."

She leaned back and crossed her long legs. "I know

that you have a fair amount of influence and a lot of

contacts at Central Admin. And I know that you called

on just about all of them in the matter of your brawn

replacement" She gave him a severe look. "You made

yourself famous on just about every level."

 

He was a little lost here. He had kicked up quite a fuss

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

13

 

when they forcibly retired Tell Radon, but what did it

have to do with her?

 

"In case you're wondering why I'm bringing this

up," she continued.

 

Geeeze, Simeon thought, that's eerie! She can't possibly

readmymmd. Canshe?

 

"It may interest you to know that I have my own con-

tacts at Admin. And they've told me that you came up

with a list of qualifications that were extremely hard to

fill. In fact, I was the only candidate who did fit them,

with the glaring exception of the age qualification. I

hear that I'm four years too young for this post."

 

"Well, you see..."

 

"Excuse me, I'm not finished. I was also told that you

went over my service records looking for black marks, and

that when you couldn't find them, you went looking for

shadows that you could pretend were blackmarks...."

 

"Hey! I don't know who you were talking to."

 

"Bear with me a few moments longer," Channa said,

holding up one finger. "Then you can have your say. I'm

not going anywhere." She looked at his image on the

screen for a moment with narrowed eyes, and when he

remained silent she nodded. "I've been told that all you

need do to ruin the day of almost any Admin executive is

to mention my name. The feeling you appear to have left

behind you as the smoke cleared on this was that where

there's smoke, there's fire. And that if you, well-known

and respected brain that you are, would object so

strenuously to my assignment to the SSS-900, despite the

feet that I fit all but one of your many qualifications, then

there must indeed be something seriously wrong with

me."

 

"Oh." He honestly hadn't thought about that He'd

been so intent on saving Tell from forced retirement

that no other considerations had seemed important.

Channa Hap as a person had never entered into his

thoughts.

 

14

 

Annf McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

 

Channa continued speaking, "I told myself that it

probably wasn't personal."

 

God, it's weird the way she can pick uponmy thoughts tike

that!

 

"I told myself to keep an open mind. If you had only

greeted me as a fellow professional, then I think I could

have let the whole mess be forgotten. But the first

words out of your speakers show that either you can't

discern the difference between a compliment and a lip-

smacking, smarmy, personal remark, or your

campaign to get rid of me continues."

 

"Now wait a minute!" Simeon said. She opened her

mouth to speak and he overrode her. "It's my turn.

Okay, you said I'd get a turn and I'm taking it." She

raised her brows and gave him an open-handed ges-

ture, giving him the floor. "I don't know who your

informant is, but they've got it all wrong. I'm going to

assume that you know the system well enough to real-

ize that whoever came up for consideration was going

to be gone over with a fine-tooth comb. A space station

the size of a small city requires versatility. I'm going to

assume that you're mature enough to know that

twenty-six is very young for this posting. Tell was thirty-

eight when we came here, and that's the general age I

was looking for. I don't think, given the importance of

the SSS-900, that I'm being unreasonable. But, I sup-

pose that to someone uninformed, the in-depth

investigation could look like a campaign to discredit

you. That was honestly not my intention, nor is it my

intention now. If my greeting was a little too familiar, I

apologize, but I had no way of knowing what dark

suspicions you were harboring, I'm really very open,

Ms. Hap."

 

She smiled amiably and nodded. "Mmhm. This

entire charming explanation of yours is predicated on

the assumption that my informant is someone's

secretary." She shook her head sadly. "No."

 

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

 

15

 

Gulp, maybe 1did go a little far.... "Urn..."

 

"You can rest easy," she assured him. "I'm very good

at what I do. As you well know, I have an almost perfect

record...."

 

Actually, you do have a perfect vecord, Simeon thought

miserably.

 

"... so, whether we actually get along or not, the sta-

tion won't suffer. And I promise you that I'm not going

to just up and disappear on you once you've gotten

used to me. Because I have it on good authority that,

after what you've done to my career and reputation,

I'd have to bribe and sleep my way into a secondary

assignment on the meanest asteroid-mining outpost at

the farthest reaches of the explored galaxy." She rose

and said, "I'd like to look at my quarters now."

 

"Yeah.. -just," Simeon slid the door to the brawn's

quarters open, "just settle in. We'll work this out, Ms.

Hap Ñ you'll see. I'm not as bad as you seem to think I

am, I'll check out your allegations and see if I can make

things right. Okay?"

 

She looked from the open door to Simeon and back

again. She sighed as she walked to the door. "No, I

think it would be better if you just left things alone for a

while."

 

"Ms. Hap," Simeon called. She turned. "When a

new brawn comes aboard, station protocol recom-

mends a little informal gathering of the department

heads. I've arranged one for this evening at 20:00.

That is, if that's all right with you?"

 

She nodded and smiled. MI think that's a great idea."

The door to her room slid shut behind her.

 

CHAPTERTWO

 

"I can't keep her level! I can't keep her level!"

 

Amos ben Sierra Nueva leaned forward, gripping

the edge of the console as if he could force strength

down the commlink and the beam to the stricken

transport

 

"Do not panic, Shintev," he said, firm but calm. "You

are too close to your destination for panic."

 

Panic seemed to be the order of the day. The bridge

of the Exodus Ñ a minor substation control center for

three hundred years Ñ was in pandemonium as the

refugee technicians struggled to activate and

improvise. There was a hissing puncture right through

the pressure hull where they had slammed a steel tube

for the coaxial feeds to Guiyon's shell. None of the big

cargo-bay doors were operable so they had had to lash

the surface-to-ship transporters to the exterior of the

ancient ship and climb in through service-hatch doors.

The air was thin and cold, dim with the emergency

lighting, full of the smell of fear and sweat and scorched

insulation.

 

"Excellent sir. I think that the enemy has detected

us," a voice said from one corner.

 

"YouiAtnA?"

 

"I am not sure!" the technician wailed, on the brink of

tears. "They are moving... yes! They have detected us!"

Amos' head whipped around. Then the link from

the last shuttle began to transmit only a long high-

pitched scream. He looked back again to see a face

rammed into the pickup, plastered there by centrifugal

 

THE dry WHO FOUGHT

 

17

 

force. Flesh and pooling blood rippled across the

screen before it blanked out.

 

"They are gone," Amos said into the sudden hush.

"Decouple the remaining shutdes. Prepare for boost"

 

Another chorus of screams protested that they were

not ready.

 

"The engines are on-line," Guiyon's calm deep voice

said. "That will suffice for now."

 

Amos turned and punched an override. "Prepare

for acceleration! Acceleration in ten seconds from

mark. Mark!"

 

A speck of light blossomed across one of the exterior

fields.

 

"They got Shintev," somebody whispered. An extra-

orbital fighter, bouncing across the surface of the

troposphere like a skipped stone had gotten dose enough

to launch a seeker missile at the out-of-control shuttle.

 

"Attend to your duty!" Amos snapped. Later there-will

be time far prayers, and for tears.

 

Force pushed at the ancient ship. Humming and

snapping sounds vibrated through the hull. Exterior

feeds showed gantries and constructs bending and

breaking under a strain they had never been intended

to endure. The ground-to-orbit shutdes were breaking

away as well, and a few figures in spacesuits.

 

Damnation, Amos thought, looking away. They mere

warned! So many lives rested on his shoulders.

 

The great cloud-girdled shape of Bethel began to

shrink in the rear viewscreen. The visible face of the

planet was obscured by dust and flame from the fighting.

Acceleration flattened him into his chair as he read

figures from the flickering screens.

 

"Guiyon!" he said. "We are moving too slowly!"

 

"Peace, Amos. I am trying toÑyes, I am venting the

life-support tanks." Tens of thousands of kilotons of

water were jettisoned. "That will help us. And hinder

the enemy."

 

18

 

Anne McCaflrey fcf SJVf. Stirling

 

"What force pursues us?"

 

"Five ships of small to moderate size. I think they ai^

the enemy sentinels. None other are in position or

rigged for pursuit."

 

"Will they be able to intercept?"

 

"I do not know. But I must stress the engines, and

there will be casualties among the passengers."

 

"Do what must be done."

 

Tlie weight pressing into his body increased until his

bones creaked from the gravity that the antique com-

pensators could not handle. The actual gravity would

crush.

 

Behind the Exodus, half the universe vanished in a

blaze of drive energies. The hull did not hum anymore:

it creaked, with occasional rending and crashing noises

as components which had weakened or reset during

the long years as an orbital station came apart under

the stress and crashed sternwards. Somewhere a child

called for its mother, again and again.

 

"What can we do?" Amos asked.

 

"Little, until we clear the gravity well," Guiyon

answered. "Pray, perhaps, since that was your

custom?"

 

One by one, the refugees lifted voices in chant.

 

Patsy Sue Coburn glanced over at a silk-clad Channa

Hap. Channa was sipping champagne and listening

politely to a medical officer who had backed her into a

corner to tell a story that seemed to involve a lot of cut-

ting motions. The room was full of station bigwigs,

section representatives, department heads, company

reps, merchanter captains, the odd artist or enter-

tainer. Trays floated about at shoulder height, loaded

with beverages, canapes, and stimulants. Everyone

seemed filled with a new enthusiasm for conversations

they'd had a hundred times before, as if the new brawn

had reinvigorated old topics. Patsy Sue felt the warmth

 

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

 

19

 

of Florian Gusky's presence even before his deep voice

rumbled softly in her ear.

"So... what do you think of the new girl?"

patsy looked at him out of the corner of her bottle-

green eyes and flicked back her long blond hair. His

 

jaw was

 

thrust forward and his thick neck was hunched

 

into heavy shoulders, accentuating the rugged cast of

his features. A big man and nearly as tough as he

thought he was. Gusky was an enthusiast for Revival

Games, particularly rugby; he looked ready to tackle

 

Channa.

 

Or stomp on her with cleats, she thought. " I think the

new woman's elegant," Patsy replied. And makes me wish

Fd been a tittle more restrained, she added to herself. Her

own Junoesque figure was squeezed into a tight red

sheath with a deep cleavage and a slit skirt. Her ash-

blond hair Ñ her own natural coloring with the barest

tint of help from modern technology Ñ was woven

with ropes of black pearls.

 

"I think she's a snob," Gusky said decisively.

 

"She seems a bit reserved," Patsy allowed. Who

wouldn't be, dropped into this mill-and-swill?

 

"She seems shallow."

 

"What is yer problem? Y' lookin* at the woman like

you think she's got the legs of a cockroach under that

gown. I've neva known you to make snap judgments.

Do you know somethin1 that needs tellin'?"

 

He looked into his drink, frowning. "No ... it's just

... Simeon's awfully quiet" He looked up at her with

concern in his brown eyes. "That's just not like him."

 

She grinned and flicked her blond bangs aside.

"Well, this will be quite an adjustment fer him after all,"

she said. "He an* Tell Radon were together for decades.

Maybe he's missin' him and doesn't feel like bein' at a

party."

 

Gus nodded, pursing his lips. "Yeah, or maybe he

wants to give her a chance to shine...."

 

20

 

Arme McCaffrty & SM. Stirling

 

They both looked down for a moment and shuffled

their feet. They looked up at the same moment and

said, "Simeon?" simultaneously, and then burst out

laughing.

 

"You called?" The familiar image bloomed on a

screen beside diem.

 

"Ah! Oh, hi, Sim, we, uh... we..."

 

"We were just saying you're kinda quiet tonight,"

Gus finished.

 

"Well, with most of my senior staff here at the party,

I'm sort of pulling double-duty," Simeon said listlessly.

"Excuse me," and he was gone.

 

Patsy and Gus looked at each other in amazement,

then turned to take a new look at Channa Hap, now

being introduced to a cargo specialist.

 

Gus shook his head. "What did she do to him?"

 

Patsy smiled. "Trimmed his sails good and proper."

 

"This was not a match made in Paradise," Gus mut-

tered.

 

"Oh, I dunno," Patsy said, narrowing her green eyes

thoughtfully. "The woman has style, Gus. This place

could use some style. Look at this party. When was the

last time you came to Simeon's place and got somethin'

besides beer and pretzels?"

 

Gus looked at her in amazement "What's that sup-

posed to mean? Are you telling me you can be bought

widi the right canapes?"

 

"No. Chocolate truffles maybe, but not synthesized

fish eggs on carbo wafers." At his growl she continued

more seriously. "What I'm sayin' is, this place is more

like a boys' camp dian the hub of culture and science

and business that it could be. She'll shake us up all

right, but maybe that's a good thing. It's goin' to get a

lot more interestin' around here."

 

He went back to glowering. Patsy went over to

Channa to compliment her choice of the Rovolodorus'

Second Celestial Suite as background music.

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

21

 

"Glad you like it, Ms. Coburn," Channa said. Her

smile had the slightly artificial quality of someone who

has spent the last few hours fending off would-be favor

seekers. "You're from Larabie, diough, aren't you?"

 

"I left," Patsy replied. "Didn'tlikethedown-home music

tfiere, and I get so sick of the Miner's Rant and the other

Pioneer Stomp stuff Simeon plays. No offense, Simeon."

 

"None taken" a voice said out of the air, the "n" fading

into silence.

 

Channa's next smile was more genuine. "I'd have

thought the chief environmentalist would be in favor

of stability," she said.

 

"I get so sick of watchin' algae breed," Patsy said, and

they both laughed. "Maybe diat's why I had four hus-

bands in a row Ñjust to show I wasn't a unicellular

organism."

 

"Goodnight," Channa called as the door swished

shut behind the last departing guest. The big circular

room looked even larger with the crowd gone; the

holos on the walls had reset to restful underwater

scenes with tropical fish.

 

She turned toward Simeon's screen image on the pil-

lar Ñ a brain's body was there, after all, and it had

become a matter of courtesy in brawns to address diat

position even if the brain could hear them anywhere

on the station. She stood a moment leisurely studying

the large Sinosian tapestry that was tastefully draped

across his column.

 

"That's a lovely hanging," she said at last "I've been

admiring it all evening." She clasped her hands behind

her back and walked slowly towards him. "Thank you,"

she said softly. "This party was very pleasant, Simeon,

and a thoughtful gesture."

 

Once you, loosened up a tittle, Simeon thought in some

surprise, you were fun, too. If I can just keep you half-tanked,

we might be able to get along.

 

22

 

AmeMcCaffrey fcf SM. Stirling

 

"Well, everyone is more relaxed at this sort of gather-

ing," he said, "divorced from their official positions.

You get to see the social side before you have to con-

tend with the professional."

 

She nodded. "I had just enough time before they got

here to glance at everyone's records. I didn't want to

make the same mistake with them that I made with you."

 

"You didn't read my records?"

 

"No," she said archly, "I wanted to be surprised."

 

"So did I," he admitted.

 

She laughed. "Then I guess we do have something

in common after all. We can both screw up. Goodnight,

Simeon."

 

Smiling, she gave one last wave at the column as she

went into her room.

 

She has a nice laugh, Simeon thought, as the door

swished closed behind her.

 

Phew, Channa thought.

 

She thought again, and took several recondite pieces

of equipment out of her bag.

 

When these showed that the sensors in the walls

weren't activated, she was slightly ashamed of herself

for being so uncharitable about Simeon.

 

"There is no chance of repairing it?" Amos ben

Sierra Nueva said.

 

"Crapulous none," the technician rasped.

"Esteemed sir," he added, wiping at the lubricating

fluid on his cheek.

 

They both backed out of the corridor and dogged the

hatchway. A subliminal hum surrounded them; Amos

was alone among the refugees in knowing that was a bad

sign. Misaligned drive, no surprise after the colony ship

had spent three centuries doubling as an orbital station.

It was a miracle that the engines functioned at all, and a

tribute to the engineers of the Central Worlds. A double

 

THE Cm- WHO FOUGHT

 

23

 

miracle that they were holding up under the unnatural

stress of maintaining subspace speeds past redline for so

long. Guiyon's doing.

 

"We will just have to economize on oxygen," Amos

said firmly.

 

"Stop breathing?" the technician asked.

 

"Coldsleep," Amos replied. "That will cut down our

consumption by at least half. A small crew can manage

the ship. It was designed so. Guiyon could run it alone,

if need be."

 

Sweat from more than the exertion of crawling

along disused passageways glistened on the man's

brown skin. Amos forced himself to breath normally as

he walked back to the command deck. His chest felt

heavy but it was impossible to detect any COg buildup

yet Purely psychological, he told himself sternly.

 

"There is no chance of repairing the machinery," he

said to the assembled command group. A few of them

grunted as if struck. "At the current rate, we will

exhaust the available air supplies two-thirds of the way

to our destination."

 

"Why was the ship not properly maintained?" some-

one half shouted.

 

"Because this was an orbital station with unlimited

supplies and an algae tank!" Amos snapped, then

brought himself back under control. Of necessity, they

had had to dump the excess water in the tanks. Too

much mass to haul when speed is essential. "We lost

more supplies, too, when the enemy hulled us."

 

"This is our situation," he said, deliberately calm.

"We have to deal with it. A hundred lives and the fete of

Bethel depend upon it"

 

They aU nodded. There was no way the Kolnari fleet

could have been kept secret, even in backwaters like

the Saffron system, if there were any witnesses after

they left a world. Given time on Bethel, they would

hide their tracks the same way.

 

24

 

Anne McCaffrey & SJVf. Stirling

 

"What... what about coldsleep?" Rachel said, lick-

ing her Hps.

 

"A possibility presently to be considered," Amos said.

"Giriyon?"

 

The brain's voice sounded inhumanly detached as

always. There were four centuries of experience

behind him, and abilities no softperson could ever

match. Amos shuddered slightly. Abomination was the

most charitable term the Faith used for such as he. Con-

trol yourself, Amos chided. Guiyon rescued us all. He is our

onfy hope. The stress was bringing back archaic fears.

 

"Marginal," Guiyon said. "Possible. We should con-

centrate all the personnel in one or two compartments,

pump the atmosphere from the others back into

reserve, and begin coldsleep treatments immediately."

He paused. "We are not properly equippedÑinternal

temperature control is very uncertain. There is a risk

of substantial casualties."

 

"Do it," Amos said, with the ring of authority in his

voice. He could sense the others relaxing. The menace

was still there, but someone was taking steps. Now, if

onfy I had an authority figure, he thought wryly. I suppose

the responsibility has to stop somewhere. "And may God have

mercy upon us."

 

"Amen."

 

Amos waited until the others had filed out to begin

reorganizing the hundred-odd refugees.

 

"The enemy?" he asked softly.

 

"Four ships," Guiyon replied. "One turned back, I

think, with engine problems Ñ there were discon-

tinuities in its emissions. The remainder are gaining

slowly. I am running the engines over the specifications

as it is, but they were never designed for this sort of

usage. My estimate is that we have escaped so far

because the Kolnari ships are carrying extra fuel mass

and suhtight maneuver engines. They are also not red-

lining their propulsion systems."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

25

 

"Will we have enough lead-time to reach Rigel

Base?"

 

"That is impossible to calculate," Guiyon said. His

voice was slowly taking on an extra tinge of animation,

like a piece of rusty machinery that turned more

smoothly when warmed up after long disuse. "Too

much depends on intervening factors Ñ mass density

in the interstellar medium, the enemy's actions, and

what awaits us. We still have several possible destina-

tions, but there may have been changes since the last

update. My data is very old."

 

"As God wills," Amos said reflexively.

 

"Indeed."

 

The data-input jumped and fizzled through the

jury-rigged inputs. Pain jagged along Guiyon's nerves

in sympathy with the overstressed fabric of the ship.

Anxiety ate at him as sector after sector went blank, a

spreading numbness like leprosy.

 

Behind him, the rosette of pursuing Kolnari ships

was mostly hidden by the blaze of his own drive ener-

gies. The sleeting energetic particles of their

beam-weapons were not probing and eroding at the

drive coils of the ancient, crumbling vessel. Ghost

memories of the ship when it was young and strong

haunted him, confusing his responses. His own

nutrient and oxygen feeds kept slipping past redline,

and each time the emergency adjustments took longer

to swing the indicators back.

 

We will not make Rigel Base, Guiyon knew. He would

not, and the ship would not. And if they could, the

softshells on board most certainly would not. / must

select an alternate destination.

 

If there is one.

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

"Is it really necessary to inspect in person, Ms. Hap?"

the detection systems chief said. "We have a virtual sys-

tem for remotes," he went on helpfully.

 

"No substitute for hands on," Channa said with

determined cheerfulness.

 

She reached up to the hatchway and chinned her-

self, sliding into the narrow inspection corridor. "Hand

me up the toolkit, will you?"

 

Two hours later the chief stood rigidly as Channa

finished her checklist. His skin was a muddy gray

under the natural brown, and he seemed to be shaking

slightly.

 

"... and deviations are more than thirty percent

beyond approved," she said crisply.

 

"Ms. Hap" Ñ the luckless bureaucrat said, trying to

cut in once more Ñ "those long-range systems are

purely backup. They haven't been used since the SSS

was commissioned!" At her raised eyebrow, he con-

tinued hurriedly, "Besides, I'm understaffed, and Ñ"

 

"Chief Doak," she went on. "Regular personal

inspections are standard procedure in all installations

of this type. I don't care if the equipment is used infre-

quendy. Backups exist for an emergency when they had

better be able to perform the functions for which they

were designed. And I don't can? if you send in the

remotes every so often. Machinery does what you tell it

to do, whether that's the right thing or not.

Experienced technicians are supposed to have a feel

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

27

 

for their equipment Your people obviously don't This

isn't satisfactory. Is that understood?"

 

"Yes, Ms. Hap," he said woodenly.

 

Bitch, she read in his eye. That's /me. You have your

right to an opinion of me, and I have a right to expect you to do

your work, she thought, turning and striding briskly for

the door.

 

"I don't care what anyone says, Ms. Hap. I think

you're going to do a great job."

 

It was one of the communications technicians.

Channa smiled pleasantly at her and said softly, noting

her name tag. "Frankly, Ms. ... Foss, I don't give a

damn wAoi you think. I'm only concerned with the

quality of your work. Which, at the moment, you're not

doing." She continued down the corridor.

 

"Excuse me." Simeon said to Channa when she was

out of earshot

 

"Yes?"

 

"Did you have to be so nasty to her?"

 

"Simeon, it would be unprofessional of me to allow

people to choose up sides like that We can chew out a

section chief, but interfering in the chain of command

is petty and divisive and causes morale problems. Per-

haps I'm not going to be here very long, and I'm

unwilling to leave that sort of mess for someone else to

sort out \bu've got to nip these things in the bud."

 

"Nipping is one thing. You cut her off at the knees."

 

"Oh, I see. You think I was unkind."

 

"You were\ In feet, you were downright cruel."

 

Channa stood a moment, hands on hips, looking

down thoughtfully. Then she shifted her weight and

crossed her arms. "Simeon, I noticed that Tell Radon was

here twelve years longer than standard retirement date."

 

"He wasn't ready to go," Simeon replied suspiciously.

 

"But six years ago he submitted his resignation,"

 

"He changed his mind and withdrew it. I wasn't

about to force him out He's a friend."

 

28    Amu McCaffrey &? SM. Stating

 

"Un-hunh. Well, when I glanced over some of the

meeting records for the last few years, I couldn't help

but notice that everyone behaved as though he wasn't

there. On the infrequent occasions when he did make a

contribution, it was immediately questioned. Or don't

the words 'Is that right, Simeon' sound familiar?"

 

"So what are you getting at?"

 

"I'm getting at the basic difference in our styles,

Simeon. When I'm cruel, it's to prevent more pain fur-

ther down the line. When you're cruel, it's to get your

own way."

 

"What!"

 

"Surely you know that consideration for a friend can

go both ways? Maybe Tell Radon stayed because he

knew you would prefer it that way. You've had things

your own way around here for quite a long while now.

I don't imagine you were looking forward to breaking

in someone new. Some stranger who might want to do

things their way instead of using the nice, smooth

routines you've worked out over time."

 

"Where are you getting this bullshit?"

 

She shrugged. "It's thatoryoujustgotso used to seeing

him humiliated on a daily basis that you didn't notice it

anymore. Either way, it probably felt the same to him."

 

"I know him, Hap; you don't. If Tell had a problem,

he would have said something. Why would he suffer in

silence when he knew he could come to me?"

 

"Have you looked at the recordings?"

 

"I don't have to look at anything. I was there."

 

"They'll confirm what I've said, you know."

 

You coryciuin-plated bitch! "Has it occurred to you that

you're biased? You've been finding fault with me since

we said hello. Let me tell you something, omniscient

one, you can't get a good impression of Tell from the

recs. He hated the damn meetings, 'Hell,' he used to

say, 'these frigging meetings make my brain melt.' He

rarely spoke at meetings. They just weren't his style."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

29

 

"Was it customary to question his every comment

when he did speak?"

 

"You're making a simple request for confirmation

sound like attempted murder."

 

Channa bit her lower lip. "Simeon, the recs will con-

firm that what I saw is there, very plain to see,

unmistakable, dear, obvious. You might find a review

of the meeting recs illuminating. Okay?"

 

After a moment's reflection, something in Simeon

opened like an eye and he saw a bitter twist to Tell

Radon's mouth. Tell had always described it as "gas,"

but...

 

"You fight dirty, Channa," he said.

 

She blushed, but her expression remained hostile.

"I'm angry," she said honestly. "My career is in ribbons

because you wanted him to stay on. So when I saw..."

She bit her lip again. Then she went on more calmly.

"You have to be careful how you use expressions like,

'you cut her off at the knees' and 'you were cruel,'

around me. It tends to set me off. Also, you could have

taken me at my word instead of turning self-

righteous."

 

"Yeah... I'll remember that" He paused. "Ylcnow, if

you're really so hot to get out ofhere, I'll back your trans-

fer request to the hilt. Since I didn't get what I asked for

last time, I figure I'm still owed a few favors...."

 

"Ho no. The last time you backed someone to the

hilt, the hilt ended up protruding from between my

shoulder blades. Thank you so much. Now that I think

about it, I intend to give Central Admin plenty of time

to forget this mess and my starring role in it. You're

stuck with me for a couple of years, at least, so you'd

better get used to it. Oh, on the subject of overlooking

things...*'

 

"Yeah?" What now? Is there duston the tight fixtures?

"I came face to face with a little boy in one of the aft

engineering compartments."

 

30

 

ArmeMcCaffinsy&SM. Stating

 

Silence.

 

"What? No comment? Does this mean that you

know about him? After all, you are able to view all areas

of the station."

 

In the silence that followed, she walked over to the

wall and leaned casually against it. "He was gone

before I could react. But you know what's really

strange? There is nothing on file about such a kid." The

silence lengthened. "Simeon?" she asked with some

asperity.

 

"A little boy?"

 

"Yes, Simeon, about twelve years old Ñ Standard Ñ

give or take a couple of years. In the aft power com-

partment. A restricted area, I believe. A kid who looks

and smells like a Sendee mud-puppy. Whose child is

he? What can you tell me about him? Don't even try to

tell me you know nothing. Kids don't acquire a patina

of dirt like that overnight He also looked like he'd been

eating regularly, if not well. So someone's been looking

out for him... minimally."

 

/ don't think saying "You're cute when you're angry" would

be a very good idea right now, Simeon thought. He froze

her image and scanned it for temperature variations

and pupil dilation. She was angry on behalf of an aban-

doned child rather than at him. Which makes a nice

change.

 

Besides, he could use an ally with this problem.

 

"He calls himself Joat," Simeon confessed with a

sigh. "I don't know how long he's been here. I dis-

covered him by accident myself. He's mechanically

brilliant. The area he's staked out as his own just

stopped needing repairs. That's probably the only

reason I investigated. I mean, there are enough

squeaky wheels around here. Why take notice of one

that's quiet? Then I noticed that the last repair made in

that section was two years ago. I got curious about

nothing ever going wrong. So I went on a prowl, using

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT     31

 

mobile bugs, and kept, well, softpersons refer to it as

seeing things out of the corner of their eyes. I always

thought that had something to do with blinking, you

know, eyelashes getting in your line of sight or some-

thing. But I kept seeing these flickers of movement and

I don't blink. By turning up my sound reception I could

sometimes hear little scrapes and movement, but there

was a sort of'white noise' masking it It seemed unlikely

that everything else in the area was running perfectly

with the exception of my sensors, so I decided to do a

stakeout. Eventually, he got careless and wandered

into my line of sight. The first time I spoke to him, blip,

he disappeared. It was a long time before I could get

him to talk to me. You'll note I said talk, not trust. He's

incredibly wary. I can't believe he was clumsy enough

to let you see him."

 

"Tvioyears?"

 

Leave it to you, you bitchoid, to pick out the pertinent mfor-

mation. "I said the last logged repair was two years ago.

It's been known to happen. What can I say? Some-

where from two years to two months, who knows?"

 

"Who is he, Simeon?"

 

"His story is that he ran away from a tramp freighter.

Joat told me that the captain won him from his uncle in

a card game. I know, I know, that sort of thing's illegal,

but it does happen out here in the boonies. The tramp

left abruptly and went somewhere not listed. Joat has

never had it soft, but apparendy, the captain he ran

from was of a different order ofbrutality altogether."

 

Channa wrinkled her nose. "Sounds like something

out of Dickens."

 

"Yeah, well, the more things change..." and he left

the sentence dangling. "What are you going to do?" he

asked warily. After his first, disastrously wrong,

impression, Channa hadn't struck him as a bleeding

heart Would she suggest flooding the compartment to

flush the poor kid out?

 

32

 

AnneMcCaffrey fef SM. Stirling

 

"We've got to get him out of there. We can't leave a

little boy in a dangerous and restricted area. It's illegal

at best and irresponsible by any standard."

 

"He's been badly hurt and frightened, Channa. He

doesn't want to be with people. The little guy can

barely tolerate me. He likes machinery better than

people, and I qualify as a borderline case. Besides, even

/ can't find him if he really doesn't want to be found.

Maybe we should leave him alone for the time being.

He's where he wants to be."

 

Channa looked up with her jaw set. "Simeon, no

child wants to be alone in the dark and the cold of a

power room, or wherever he's lodged himself. He

needs and deserves to be taken care of. It's his right."

 

"I agree in principle, but I think he needs more time.

I'll take the responsibility."

 

"What does that mean?"

 

"I'll take full and complete responsibility for what

happens to him."

 

Channa brightened. "Really?"

 

"Yeah, really."

 

"Okay," she said, "I'll call up some information on

adoption procedures and we can get things underway."

 

"What?" I'm always screaming what? at this woman. Pm

beginning to feel like a demented parrot.

 

"Well, what else did you mean when you said you

would accept responsibility?"

 

"That, if anything goes wrong, I'll answer for it." /

swear, if I had hair I'd tear it out. Softshells have some

advantages after all. But, what is this ... this .. . wench

trying to do to me?

 

"Great! If he gets killed or maimed, you'll accept a

discommodation? Well, how big of you!" Channa cut

Simeon off when he began to splutter a protest "By

now you should know that I listen to what you say,

even when you don't. I promise you, Simeon. I will

always call you on it when you try to shut me up or

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

33

 

fob me off. You're not going to shuffle this one off,

buddy. I won't let you."

 

"What are you talking about? I didn't put him in this

situation. I want to help the kid. Hell, I am helping. I just

don't see any need to rush him. The feet that you saw him

may mean that he's almost ready to come out on his own.

I'm certainly opposed to coercing him. Geeeze but

you're hostile! You're so willing to believe the worst about

me that every time I talk to you I feel like my circuits are

being realigned. Am I really such an evil bastard? Or,"

and he changed his tone from plaintive to trenchant,

"could it be that you really are the most bloody-minded,

impossible woman I have ever met?"

 

"Oh, Simeon," she drawled, "you have no idea how

difficult I can be. Just cross me if you want to find out"

 

A chill settled in Simeon's mind. Does that mean that so

far she's been reasonable? Gahf

 

"You're about to become a father, Simeon. That's

what full and complete responsibility for a child means.

Congratulations, it's a boy. If your word is good."

 

"They're not going to let me adopt a kid."

 

"Why not? You've been extensively tested for

emotional stability, you have a responsible job. You

even appear to care very much about his feelings.

Do you think such a wounded child, of his age, is

going to have prospective parents lining up to take

care of him? I think you've got a very good chance."

 

She clapped her hands and rubbed them together

gleefully. "So... let's get to work on it."

 

Mart'an presented the menu with a flourish and left

them with a bow.

 

Channa looked around wide-eyed at the dimly lit,

subdued elegance of the Perimeter Restaurant There

were even actual beeswax candles burning on the

tables; a fortune for material and air-bills both.

 

No pleasure Ifaspetidmgxmwbodyebe's money, she thought

 

34

 

Atme McCaffrey & S.M. Staling

 

The Perimeter was paying; something of a goodwill

gesture. And it was logical for her to get acquainted with

one of the station's premier tourist attractions.

 

SSS-900's finest restaurant was just down from

the north-polar docking extension; the outer wall

was a hundred-meter sheet of synthmet set on clear.

Stars rolled huge and bright beyond Ñ fixed stars

and the frosty arch of the Snakeshead Nebula, and

the bright moving points of light that were shuttles

and tugs. Within, the floor was of glossy black stone

set with squares of gold Ñ SSS-900 processed a lot

of gold as a by-product Ñ and the tables were made

of real and precious wood, glossy under the snowy

linen tablecloths. Waiters moved amid a quiet chink-

ing of silverware, savory smells wafting from the

platters they carried. A live orchestra played some-

thing soft and ancient.

 

"Stars and comets Ñ a little rich for this outposter!"

Channa said. "I'd heard of the Perimeter, but somehow

I never expected to actually come here."

 

Patsy grinned. "C'mon now, Hawking Station wasn't

an asteroid minin' center. Leastwise, not of the sort oui

sainted Simeon cut his teeth on."

 

"Well, no... but I couldn't afford anything like this

when I was at home. Didn't have the time, either. After

I graduated and started pulling assignments, I've been

mostly at outposts. Worse than Simeon's."

 

Waiters filled water glasses, laid their napkins in

their laps, brought warm rolls and softened butter.

Everything except brush our teeth and massage our feet,

Channa thought. It was a little unnerving. Most places

you asked for the selection, told the table what you

wanted, and a float brought the meal to you. The sheer

expense of having live human beings do all this!

 

"I'd never've et in here if it weren't on the station's

ticket," Patsy confessed in a whisper during a lull in the

service. "Or unless a date was really tryin* to impress

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

35

 

me. More relaxin* with another female Ñ you kin

concentrate on the food without insultin' 'em.**

 

"If this weren't complimentary, I wouldn't be here

now, either."

 

They grinned at each other.

 

"Well, thank you fer invitin' me," Patsy said. "I

woulda thought you might invite that med-tech you

were talkin' to last night."

 

"Please, I'm looking forward to this meal. I won't be

able to eat if I remember him. Have you heard some of

his anecdotes?"

 

"All of "em," Patsy said, nodding solemnly. "You've a

point thar, ma'am. Chaundra's a nice enough feller,

but his stomach's a mite too strong fer me."

 

"Besides, you and I have similar taste in music. You

can always talk to someone who likes the same music."

 

Talk they did, touching on everything from

Geranian folk ballads to eighteenth-century Earth

composers, eventually matching the personnel of the

station to various types of music.

 

"Simeon? Straight honky-tonk, no question,"

Channa said firmly.

 

Patsy laughed. "Oh, c'mon, Channa, there's

unplumbed depths there. He's not that simple. It's just

that the minin* center assignment came at an impres-

sionable age fer him. Rough, tough rockjack, you

know. His public image."

 

"Well." She looked down at the menu. It provided

motion holos of the dishes as she ran her finger down

the page. "I'll start with these grumawns, first, in the

fiery sauce. Cleardrop soup. Grilled rack of jumbuk

from Mother Hutton's World Ñ good grief, they do

have everything here! Ñ baby carrots, salad. Spun

pastry bluet confection for dessert, with Port Royal cof-

fee. Castiliari brandy."

 

"Sounds good. I'll go with the jumbuk too, but...

hmm. Fennel-leek soup first. Wine?"

 

36

 

Atme McCaffrey fcf 5JVf. Stating

 

"I don't usually Ñ" Channa began.

 

"If I might suggest?" Mart'an appeared at their

table. Appeared, Channa thought, as if he'd blinked out

of some hypothetical subspace. "The Mon'rach '97 to

begin with, a half-bottle. Then, with the main course, a

Hosborg estate-bottled '85. I'll open it now so it can

breathe."

 

"Sure," Channa said, then sighed with pleasure.

"You know, I was looking forward to the Perimeter,

ever since they told me SSS-900 would be Ñ"

 

"SSS-900-C, now, Ms. Hap."

 

Channa blushed."Ñ would be my next assignment"

 

The first course arrived. The pink grumawns were

coiled steaming on top of a bed of fragrant saffron rice,

the sauce to one side. Channa took a sip of the wine,

chilled and with a feint scent of violets, then lifted one

grumawn on the end of a two-tined fork.

 

"I did do a lot of work today," she murmured to her-

self. She opened her mouth, and Ñ

 

The Confederate armor was grinding through the

woods and fields north of Indianapolis. The burning

city cast a pall of smoke into the sky behind them. Diesel

engines pig-grunted as the smooth low-slung shapes of

the tanks and tank-destroyers crashed through brush

and twelve-foot high cornstalks, past the flaming

shards of a farmhouse and barns. The long 90mm bar-

rels of the tank guns swung toward the thin strung-out

lines of the Union convoys, caught in the flank as they

attempted to switch front The fighting vehicles surged

back on their tracks at each monster crack of high-

velocity cannon fire, and the air filled with the bitter

scent of cordite. Chaos spread through the blue ranks

as tracer and cannon fire sent trucks exploding into

globes of magenta fire. A Northern tank dissolved, the

turret flipping up like a frying-pan, a hundred meters

into the air.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

37

 

Behind the fighting vehicles, long lines of men in

gray uniforms followed, advancing with their semi-

automatic rifles carried at the port Here and there an

officer carried a sword, or the Stars and Bars fluttered

from a staff.

 

"Now!" General Fitzroy Anson-Hugh Beauregard III

said into the bulky mike hung from his vehicle helmet

 

His command tank was a little back from the edge of

the combat, hull down; the general stood head-and-

shoulders out of the commander's cupola. The turret

pivoted under him, the massive casting moving

smoothly on its bearing race. The long cannon fired in

a flash that seared his vision, just as the opening salvos

of artillery went by overhead. Down along the road, tall

poplar-shapes of black dirt gouted skyward. Another

explosion shook the earth and sent heavy vehicles

pinwheeling like a child's models under a careless boot;

the command-tank's round had hit the tracked carrier

for a Unionist self-propelled gun.

 

The general nodded. "Nothing to stop us short of the

Lakes," he said. Nothing to stop them linking up with the

British Guards Armored Corps, driving southeast out of

occupied Detroit, cutting the Union in two....

 

"Conceded," Florian Gusky said, and lifted the

visor of the simulation helmet. He sighed heavily and

took a pull of his beer, then looked around the room

as though surprised to find himself alone with

Simeon, blinking away the consciousness of a world

and war that had never been. There was a slight

sheen of sweat on his heavy-browed face and he

worked the thick muscles of his shoulders to loosen

the tension.

 

"You could play it out to the end," Simeon's image

said from a screen above his desk.

 

"No dam' point. You've whipped my butt in that

simulation fo^,fromboth Union and Confederate sides."

 

38

 

Arme McCaffnq & S JVf. SHr&ng

 

"I could take a handicap," Simeon said with much

less enthusiasm, Gus noted.

 

So he nodded. The last time he had beaten Simeon

was in a Caesar vs. Rommel match on the site of Car-

thage, with the shellperson commanding Caesar's

spear-armed host against Panzers and Stukas. Even

then he had inflicted embarrassing casualties.

 

"Where is she?" Gus asked. There was no need to

identify the female in question.

 

"She's dining at the Perimeter."

 

Gus raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "The

Perimeter? That's some salary she gets." The

Perimeter attracted two sets of guests: the rich, and

spacers looking to blow six months' pay on one night.

 

Simeon laughed. "Nab, she's a guest of the manage-

ment. Patsy's with her."

 

"Yeah, Patsy likes her," Gus said, his tone indicating

that this revealed a serious and heretofore unsuspected

flaw in Patsy's character. "Can you see them?"

 

"Yup."

 

"What're they doing?"

 

"Talking."

 

"About us?"

 

"I don't know. I'm not listening. Now they're

laughing."

 

"They're talking about us, alright," Gus said gloomily.

 

"Geesh, Gus, let's get back to the game."

 

There was a plaintive edge to Simeon's voice. Gus

reached for the helmet and then stopped, a slow grin

creasing his heavy features.

 

" Isn't it about time we had a drill?" he said, thoughtfully.

 

"We just had one. About four hours ago, remember?"

 

"When I was in the Navy we had 'em six times a day,

sometimes," Gus replied.

 

He knew that Simeon badly wanted to pull Navy

duty. Only a few staff-and-command vessels used

shell controllers and Simeon didn't rate, yet. In the

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

39

 

meantime, he put a lot of weight on Gus' experience

as a fire-control officer on a patrol frigate. That had

been some time ago Ñ Florian Gusky had spent a

decade's hard work clawing his way up to regional

security chief for Namakuri-Singh, the big drive-

systems firm Ñ but Simeon had a bad case of military

romanticism. And real talent, he told himself without

envy of the brain's abilities.

 

"I know it's early," Gus went on persuasively, "but it's

important not to have predictable intervals. So we

don't get complacent."

 

"Well..."

 

"I'd love to see the look on their faces."

 

"Since you put it that way Ñ"

 

Channa started as the klaxons rang. They sounded

like no other she had ever heard, a harsh repeated

ouvuuga-ouuuuga sound. The elegant minuet of move-

ment among the waiters turned to an inelegant but

efficient scramble for the exits; some moved to assist

guests. Thick slabs hissed up out of the floor along the

outer wall and the lights flared bright

 

"BREACH IN THE PRESSURE HULL!" a harsh

male voice tone announced. "EMERGENCY PER-

SONNEL TO THEIR STATIONS. SECURE ALL

SUBSECTION REFUGE AREAS."

 

Patsy stood and looked at her barely touched entree

with dismay. "Damn! That's the second time this shift!"

She threw her napkin down with disgust. "Simeon

pulls these drills like a boy kickin* over an anthill to see

the bugs scurry."

 

"Simeon!" Channa shouted.

 

"Yeah?" The klaxons dimmed in a globe around them.

 

"Is this a genuine emergency or just a test?"

 

"Excuse me, brawn-o'-mine, but you're not sup-

posed to be privy to that information." There was the

hint of a smug smile in the brain's voice.

 

40    Arm* McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

 

"If you think I'm getting up from the best meal that's

ever been put in front of me just because you're feeling

your oats, you've got another thing coming. Cut it!"

 

As the klaxon abrupdy ceased, people stopped, puz-

zled, and milled around uncertainly.

 

"Tell them it's over, Simeon. Don't just leave them

standing there."

 

"This has been a test," Simeon informed them in the

feminine tones he used for such announcements,

"Return to your stations. This has been a test"

 

"We will discuss this later," Channa assured him icily.

"Overdoing drills is dangerous, irresponsible and

generally counterproductive."

 

Ah, hell, Simeon thought exhaustedly, why did I listen

to you, Gustldan't ihmkyou like the looks on their faces after

all, buddy. I know I don't. He wondered what he could do

to make it impossible for her to gain access to him for

the next week.

 

Patsy sat down slowly, her wide eyes fixed on

Channa's flushed countenance. "You really don't lahk

him, do ya?" she said with some astonishment

 

Channa looked at her blandly. "Whatever makes you

say that?"

 

Patsy shook her head. *Just a hunch."

 

Channa sighed and smiled ruefully. "Well, to be fair,

there may be a touch of'transference' there. You see,

I've always wanted to work planet-side. I love the feel of

wind in my hair and rain on my face. I enjoy splashing

in an ocean, and the feel of earth under my feet So, for

the past two years I've been campaigning for a

particular assignment" She looked up at Patsy inquir-

ingly. "Have you ever been to Senalgal?"

 

Patsy nodded and smiled warmly in reminiscence. "I

sher have. 1 had my first honeymoon thar. What a gor-

geous place! Beautiful beaches, warm ocean, flowers

eve'rwhar, and the/ood. I'd love to live thar, at least fer a

while." She sighed. "So, go on."

 

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

 

41

 

"Well, as you can imagine, the competition was

incredible. I'd been through twelve interviews, including

one with Ita Secand, the city-manager of Kelta, whom I

would have been working with. God! What I wouldn't

give to work with her. She's witty, charming, sophisti-

cated. I felt that I could learn so much from her. It had

come down to two of us, myself and someone else."

 

She shook her head. "I never did know who the other

candidate was, but my feeling was that it was going to be an

extremely difficult choice. When suddenly, after holding

on for twelve years, Tell Radon decides that he has to retire

right now! And thatsweet little plum, that was almost inmy

hand, was snatched away so fast it left scorch marks on my

nail polish, '"Vbu're station born and bred,' they told me,

'You're perfect for this assignment,' they said. 'It's an

extremely important and prestigious post,' they assured

me. Rurrrgh! Asthesayinggoes, Icouldjustspit"

 

Patsy looked at Channa's bitter face.

 

"It's a gyp, alright. Looks like yer skills ah goin'

against you instead of helpin* you out. So, maybe you

ah takin' it out on Simeon jest a teensy bit?" She

grinned and held up a hand that measured out a

micrometer between thumb and forefinger. "Hey,

maybe that's good fer him. Now, I think," she placed a

hand on her bosom, "that we need you mo'n Senalgal

does. I mean, Senalgal's gonna be special whoever

runs it, right? But a station, well, it can be just a big oT

factory with the wrong people in charge. You don't

need Ita Secand t' teach you to be witty and sophis-

ticated Ñ you already ah. We need some a' that right

here, Ms. Hap, an I'm not kiddin'."

 

Channa blushed and grinned, taking a sip of her

wine to hide her embarrassment

 

"Well, thank you. That's quite a challenge you've set

me," she murmured, and changed the subject. "Who

was that big, handsome, gray-haired fellow you were

talking to last night? Somehow I never met him,"

 

42    Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating

"FlorianGusky?"

 

"We call him Gus."

 

"I can see why."

 

Patsy smiled warmly. "He's quite a guy Ñ a retired

Navy man, a crack navigator. Tlie stories he's got... I

mean to tell you, mmhm."

 

"I see he's spoken for," Channa said with a grin.

 

"Not so you'd notice," Pasty said primly. "I admit I

lahk him, though. I jus* love to heah him talk. When I

was a kid, I thought I'd do what he did. You know, join

the Navy and scour the universe of evil doers, jus' like

some ferocious holo-hero." She sighed. "But heah I

am, nothin* but an algae-herder."

 

"An algae-herder?" Channa asked in amusement.

"Algae travel in herds?"

 

"Oh, you know what I mean. Instead of doin' some-

thin* adventurous, I'm just watchin* these bubblin' vats

o* goop. The excitement is not goin* to give me ulcers."

She sighed. "Sometimes 1 wish fer a real disaster. Some-

thing special."

 

Channa looked at her seriously. "Be careful what

you wish for," she said. "You may get it"

 

Channa hummed tunelessly as she filled out the

adoption forms, looking perfectly content and at peace

with the world. The sound irritated Simeon excessive-

ly. True, he could in a sense "leave" the area and had

done so. But he kept coming back, as though to a

blown circuit; drawn to the irritant, checking again and

again to see if anything had changed.

 

Finally he said, "You seem happy." Hap. Happy. Bet

that would bug herbad.

 

"I love filling out forms," she said. "The more com-

plex the better."

 

Somehow it figures, Simeon thought. When you became a

broom, the universe lost a great tax auditor.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

43

 

"Filling out your side of this is no problem," she said.

"Your whole life is on file. But I'm going to have to talk

to the child soon."

 

"I can do that," he said defensively. Icon oho fell out the

damn forms, in half the time or less and without making

obnoxious noises.

 

She turned to look at the column that held him.

"Simeon... while I grant you that we should be as deli-

cate as possible." She paused and gestured helplessly.

"I've ... we've, got to get him to Medical. We've got to

prove, by retinal patterns and gene analysis, that he

exists at all. You know how bureaus are: no tickee, no

washee. We've got to do a recorded interview of him. So

he's got to emerge, fully grown Ñ well, almostÑfrom

the engineering compartments and into the real world,"

she concluded in a rush.

"Okay.I'U talk to him."

 

"Simeon," she hesitated, "why don't you introduce

us? I mean, you can discuss the adoption with him. I

can stay out of sight nearby until he wants to meet me."

She's being conciliatory, he realized. Why doesn't this reas-

sure me? He forced down nonexistent hackles and

replied in a neutral tone. "Sure, why not?"

 

Channa could hear them talking from where she sat

against the cold bulkhead.

 

"You want to adopt me?" a young voice asked in dis-

belief. A yearning hope sounded through it

 

"Yeah," Simeon said, surprised to find that he was

getting to like the idea.

 

Joat's head popped into Simeon's line of sight, seem-

ingly from out of nowhere.

 

"You can't do that," he said with complete certainty,

voice flat again. "They won't let you adopt a kid. You're

not real."

 

Simeon was taken aback. "What do you mean I'm

 

not real?"

 

44

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM, Stating

 

Joat's young face was lit with amused wonder. "I hate

to be the one to break your bubble, but who's going to

let a computer adopt a kid?"

 

"Where did you get the idea that Ymjust a computer?"

Simeon demanded with a hard edge to his tone.

 

Channa bit down on the fleshy part of her hand. That

kid doesn't pull his punches, she thought. Poor Simeon brain,

though, dolfttfa offended dignity bit well... Shestifledthe

rising guffaw with a swallow. An audible reaction

would be out of place. Definitely

 

"You told me," Joat informed him, exasperation

creeping into his voice. "You said 'I am, in effect, the

station.' That means you're a machine. I've heard

about AIs and voice-address systems."

 

To both his observers, his voice was conciliatory but

his expression reflected an inner anxiety that maybe

this computer was losing its tiny mind.

 

And he probably thinks that would be very interesting, the

station computer losing function, Simeon thought in

exasperation. Kids!

 

He had noted that, while Joat could keep his voice

disciplined, his expression revealed his real feelings.

Simeon wondered if he could maintain that duality in

the presence of the visually-advantaged. Not that he,

Simeon, was in any way visually-dtsadvantaged. Quite

the opposite, as Joat would learn soon enough. 'Joat,

I think it's time that notion got altered. There's some-

one nearby I'd like you to meet. She's known as a

brawn, and she's my mobile partner." Which was true

as far as it went, Simeon amended.

 

Joat's face went wary. "I don't want to meet

anybody," he muttered sullenly, looking cautiously

around him. "She, you said?" Another pause. "No, I

don't want to meet anyone."

 

"But we've already met, sort of," Channa called out.

Joat vanished instantly.

"He's gone," Simeon said.

 

THE Cnr WHO FOUGHT

 

45

 

"No, he's not," Channa contradicted. "He's nearby.

Joat? Simeon is a real person, as real as you or me. But heis

connected to the station in such a way that the station is an

extension ofhisbody. I'd be happy to tellyouaboutit."

 

No answer but a receptivity which she could almost

feel beyond her in the narrow access aisle.

 

"Well," she began, "shellpeople were created as a

means of enabling the disadvantaged to live as normal

a Hfe as possible. At first that was limited to the creation

of miniaturized tongue or digital controls, or body

braces. The extension of such devices was to encapsu-

late the entire body, though some people still think it's

just the person's brain Ñ because they're called

"brains.' Despite popular fiction, such an inhumanity is

not permitted. Simeon is there, body, mind and ..."

She paused and then realized that she couldn't permit

personal opinion to corrupt the explanation. **...

heart. Simeon is a real person complete with his

natural body but he is also this station-city in the sense

that instead of walking about it, he has sensors that

gather information for him and he controls every func-

tion of the station from his central location."

 

"Where is ÑM Joat paused, too, struggling to com-

prehend the concept"Ñ he? He is a he, isn't he?"

 

Tin as masculine as you," Simeon said, accustomed to

such an explanation of shellpeople but wishing to

underline his humanity. He did note that his voice had

dropped further down the baritone level he used. Weft,

whynot?

 

"Oh!"

 

"Instead of having to give orders to subordinates,"

Channa went on, "to, say, check the life-support sys-

tems, or Airlock 40, or order an emergency drill, he can

do it himself more quickly and more thoroughly than

any independently mobile person could.**

 

"And I don't need to sleep, so I'm on call all the time."

Simeon couldn't resist adding that.

 

46

 

Atme McCaffrty &f SM. Stirling

 

"Never sleep?" Joat was either appalled or awed.

 

"I don't require rest, although I do like relaxation

and I have a hobby...."

 

"Not now, Simeon, although Ñ" and there was a

smile in Channa's voice **Ñ I admit that that makes you

more human."

 

"Were you human... I mean, were you... did you

live like one of us?" Joat asked.

 

"I am human, not a mutant, or a humanoid, Joat,"

Simeon said reassuringly. "But something happened

when I was born, and I'd never have been able to walk,

talk, or even live very long unless the process of encap-

sulating had been invented. Usually it's babies that

become shellpeople. We are more psychologically

adjusted to our situation than adults. Though some-

times pre-puberty accident victims work out well as

shellpeople. I can look forward to a long and very use-

ful life. But I'm human for all of that"

 

"Very human," Channa replied in a droll voice.

 

Simeon didn't quite like the implications, but at least

she said the right tilings.

 

"Andyou run the city?"

 

"I do, having instantaneous access to every com-

puterized aspect of such a large and multi-function

space station as well as peripheral monitoring devices

in a network to control traffic in and out."

 

"I thought brains only ran ships," Joat said after a

long pause.

 

"Oh, some do, of course," Simeon said, slightly

patronizing, "but I was specially chosen and trained for

this demanding sort of work." He ignored the delicate

snort from Channa that somehow reminded him he'd

started out his management career in a less prestigious

assignment. "Do you understand now that I am human?"

 

"I guess so," was Joat's unenthusiastic reply. "You've

been in that shell since you were a ftofcy?"

 

"Wouldn't be anywhere else," Simeon said proudly,

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

47

 

letting his voice ring with a sincerity no shellperson

ever had to counterfeit.

 

There was a slightly longer pause. "Then it's not

true, what I heard?" Joat began tentatively.

 

"Depends on what you heard," Channa said, having

learned in academy the long list of atrocities sup-

posedly enacted.

 

"That they put orphaned kids in boxes?"

 

"Absolutely not!" Channa and Simeon chorused in

loud unison.

 

"That's totally inaccurate," Channa said firmly. "It's

the sort of mean thing people say to scare kids, though.

The program won't accept perfectly healthy bodies. To

begin with, the medical costs and education are

incredibly expensive. So is the maintenance for

shellpersons. But it's better than depriving a sound

mind of life because the body won't function normally.

Don't you think so?"

 

Silence greeted that query.

 

"And if you've also heard the one about taking the

brains from the homeless or displaced Ñ no, that is

definitely not permitted, either."

 

"You're sure?"

 

"Sure!" Simeon and Channa replied firmly.

 

"And we should know," Channa went on. "I had to

spend four years in academy to learn how to deal with

shellpeople, of all types."

 

Which, Simeon knew, was another backhanded slam at

him. Did she never let up? One thing was sure, Joat's

misinformation made him more determined than ever

to adopt the boy and give him such security that that

sort of macabre stuff would be forgotten.

 

"And, no matter what sort of spaceflot you've been

told, Central Worlds doesn't make slaves of people,"

Channa was saying at her most emphatic. "The very

idea sends chills up my spine."

 

"Not even criminals?"

 

48

 

Arme McCaffny 6? SM. Strrtmg

 

"Especially not criminals," Channa said with a little

laugh. "With all the power available to a shellperson,

you may be very sure Central Worlds makes certain

that they are psychologically conditioned to a high

ethical and moral standard."

 

"What's this e'tical?" Joat asked.

 

"Code of conduct," Simeon said, "probity, honesty,

dedication to duty,personal integrity of the highest

standard."

 

"And you own this station?" Joat asked, his voice

tinged with awe.

 

Channa laughed in surprise at that assumption.

"I wish," Simeon said fervently.

 

"Remember my mentioning that creating and train-

ing a shellperson is expensive? I wasn't kidding. By the

time Simeon graduated from training, he had an enor-

mous debt to pay off to Central Worlds."

 

"Hunh. Thought you said they weren't slaves,"

 

"They're not Every shellperson has the right to pay off

their debt and become a free agent A good many ship-

persons do and then they own themselves. A management

shellperson, like Simeon, will often get their debt picked

up by a corporation, and when they've worked off the

debt, they work under contract"

 

"Are you paid off, Simeon?"

 

"No, though my contract fee is generous enough.

But, as I mentioned, I have hobbies.. .**

 

"Like what?" Joat asked.

 

"I've got a great sword and dagger collection which

includes a genuine Civil War flag, a regimental eagle."

 

"Hey, way cool! Got any guns?"

 

What is it with some males ? Channa thought.

 

"Yeah," Simeon said eagerly. "I've got a real Brown

Bess flintlock, and an M22. And one of the first back-

pack lasers ever issued!"

 

"No shit!" Joat said, seeming to forget Channa's

presence for a moment His voice sounded louder, as if

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

49

 

he was drifting back from whatever refuge he had

bolted towards. "All sorts of old weapons, eh?"

"You name it A Roman gladius, even."

"A what?"

 

"Good question," Channa said.

"Shortsword. Over three thousand years old,"

Simeon broke in. A pause. "Of course, it could be a

reproduction. If so, it'sstill in awfully good shape for an

artifact of that age. I can trace it back at least five

hundred years* provenance. The records say it was first

owned by the legendary collector Pawgitti, then dug up

out of the ruins of his villa."

 

My throat is getting hoarse, Channa realized an hour

later. Amazing what he knows. Joat had probably neatly

escaped formal education, but had acquired a

jackdaw's treasure chest of information about his

keener interests. Anger awoke in her. It was criminal

that a mind like Joat's had been ignored, like a weed in

a corner lot. Or the barbaric way in which pre-shell

handicapped were ignored as nonproductive persons.

Joat wasn't just interested in showing that he knew

things that she didn't, either. There was a naked

hunger to learn in his voice. Closer and closer... She

could see a little huddled shadow and an occasional

glint of his eyes as he turned his head.

 

"And weapons are merely a pan of what I've been

collecting over the years," Simeon was saying. "I've got

great strategy games Ñ whole boards..."

 

Channa was shocked. Simeon would adopt the kid as

a games partner? Then she realized he was only

sweetening the pot

 

"I don't know of a shellperson who has adopted, but

I think it would be to your advantage, Joat. Certainly it

would mean security and a place to call your own

instead of ducking from one hidey-hole to the next

when inspection teams go through. You'd have regular

meals, and you could go to engineering school"

 

50

 

Amu McCaffrey 6f SM. Stating

 

Channa heard a soft "yeah" from out of the cold

darkness.

 

^ "Think it over tonight, why don't you?" Simeon said

"Tomorrow you can come up and scan the room I can

assign you. Maybe have dinner with Channa and talk

about it some more."

 

"Yeah," came more dearly from out of the darkness.

 

"Okay," Simeon's voice was pleased. "If you have any

questions tonight, just speak 'em out, and 111 answer."

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

It's an honor to win the trust of a child, Simeon thought,

especially one who's been through what this kid has. I don't

think Fve ever been quite this happy. He intuited that the

feeling approximated what the word "tickled" meant,

and he also thought that this was what it felt like to

smile. Since Joat had moved in, he'd been trying to

empathize more with the softperson worldview.

 

Of course, there have been some surprises....

 

Seen for the first time by the full light of day-cycle

floros, Joat was not prepossessing. Short for his age,

scrawny to the point of emaciation, with huge blue eyes

in a face that might have been any color short of black

under the gray, ground-in coating of grime and machine

oil. The mouse-brown hair had been hacked off and was

standing up in tufts. The clothing was an adult-sized

coverall with the arms and legs cut off to fit An air of sul-

len suspicion accompanied a pungent odor.

 

"I've never run across the name, Joat' before,"

Channa began casually. "It doesn't give a clue about

where you're from the way that some names do. I use

'Hap' as a surname because I was born on Hawking

Alpha Proxima Station, for example."

 

'Joat'smy name." Joat answered, sticking his chin out

aggressively. "I gave it to myself. It means 'jack-of-all-

trades,' 'cause that's what I do, some of everything."

 

"So it's a nickname," Channa said. "Shall we put you

down on the form as Jack, then?"

 

Joat looked at her with cool contempt "Why? That's

 

52

 

Anne McCaffny fcf SJVf. Stiriing

 

"You're a ... girl?" Simeon asked, bringing the "g"

sound up from the depths of his diaphragm and manag-

ing to split the word in several astonished syllables.

 

"What's wrong with that? She's a girl!" Joat declared

defensively, pointing at Channa, as though ducking

responsibility.

 

Channa burbled with heavily suppressed laughter

before she managed some reassurance. "Hey, it's all

right that you're a girl. It's just that... All that dirt..."

Channa couldn't risk continuing in that vein and

switched abruptly "... is an effective disguise."

 

"Good disguise," Joat said proudly. "Bad idea to let

people know when you're a girl. Can cause you

trouble. But, since you say I gotta go to a medic," she

paused to look questioningly at Channa who nodded,

"best you don't look surprised then." She grinned slyly

and then looked over at Simeon's column. "You really

didn't know?"

 

"Not a clue," he said wonderingly, and Joat giggled

with pleasure. "Hmm. According to the biological

studies I had, it's not easy to tell with the pre-pubescent

... dressed or in disguise."

 

*7 can always tell," Joat said with some contempt for

his ignorance.

 

"You're a softshell."

 

"You sure you're not a computer?"

 

"Yes, lam Ñ stop teasing!"

 

Joat grinned unrepentently. Simeon felt an

unfamiliar sensation and tried to identify it. A flutter in

the ribcage? he thought wonderingly.

 

"Why haven't they answered the tight-beam?"

Simeon asked nervously a week later. "I sent every-

thing. The forms were all correct"

 

"It's a bureaucracy," Channa said soothingly.

 

"Oh? That's supposed to reassure me?" Simeon said.

A moment later: "Why is Joat's room always a mess?

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

53

 

I send in the servos twice a day and it's still in a

maximum-entropy state."

 

"It's called 'adolescence,' Simeon," Channa said. "At

least she seems to be settling in at school"

 

Simeon's image winced. Joat had unexpectedly

cleaned up as pretty, though she had wrinkled her

nose when he'd mentioned that. She seemed to trust

him Ñ Channa as well Ñ to a limited extent- Any fur-

ther social interfacing was... lacking.

 

"She gets in too many fights," he said. She also

fought very, very dirty. He winced again when he

thought of the places some blows, kicks and punches

had landed.

 

"She's not used to interacting except as a potential

victim," Channa replied. "I don't think she's ever been

with anyone in her own age group. She certainly

doesn't know the local rituals. She's an outsider Ñ

practically a feral child. We're lucky she can respond to

other human beings at all."

 

An awkward silence fell for a moment Unspoken:

and she didn 't think you were human when she met you.

 

"She's learned about daily showers," Simeon

pointed out helpfully.

 

"Oh, there's good stuff in Joat," and Channa

grimaced. "Even if her brand of ethics is unusual, at

least she's consistent in applying it. All she needs is

some security and a chance."

 

"Isn't that all anybody needs?"

 

Several hours later, Simeon still glowed with satisfac-

tion in their accomplishments with Joat. This, being a

father thing, is great, he thought, and warmed measur-

ably towards Channa. Tvegot to thank her.

 

For the first time since she had arrived, Simeon looked

into her quarters and was surprised at how, in that short

time Ñ under two weeks, although it seemed like more

Ñ it had changed from the Spartan chamber Tell Radon

had occupied. She had tinted the walls a soft, off-pink

 

54

 

Anne McCaffny fc? SM. Stating

 

and had put "paint-chips" into the permanently installed

frame-projectors. The jewel-bright colors and romantic

images of the pre-RaphaeEtes, Alma-Tadema and Max-

field Parish glowed from the walls, along with some

modern Mintoro reproductions. The bedspread was an

icy gray satin on which were scattered embroidered pil-

lows of peach and gray and blue.

 

"Say, Channa," he said in tones of pleased approval,

"I like what you've done with the room."

 

Channa emerged from the bathroom dad in a blue

silk robe trimmed with lace, a brush in her hand and

swept out of her quarters into the main lounge without

saying a word. She stopped in front of Simeon's

column and crossed her arms, her eyes blazing. All

Simeon's warm feelings fell into cold ash as he looked

out at her. Maybe if he didn't say anything, she'd go

away and not say whatever it was that was burning

inside her eyes. Nah, when have 1 euer been that lucky ivhere

she's concerned*

 

Her body was rigid, though her shoulders twitched

and her ftps opened several time. He'd better say some-

thing to stem the acid eruption.

 

Using as casual and complimentary tone as he could

manage, he said, "You have very romantic tastes,

Channa," which seemed to reduce her blazing eyes a

degree or two. He'd never know why he continued:

perhaps sheer mischief to get a little of his own back.

"Though your bed looks amazingly like an ice cube."

 

She blinked in astonishment and he thought, A hit! A

very palpable hU! But then she took a deep breath.

 

"I did not think," she said, every word precise and

polished, "that it would be necessary to actually say this,

but since I must, I shall. Because we got off on the wrong

foot and I did not trust you, I swept my quarters for active

scanners.'1 She crossed her arms. "You will please," she

went on with careful emphasis, "not ever enter my

quarters without knocking and requesting admittance,

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

55

 

and waiting for my express permission to enter. Is that

clear, Simeon?"

 

"I apologize, Channa. Of course you're right. I got

careless, all those years with Tell."

 

"As to the quality of my taste ..." she said in a voice

even more brittle than before.

 

Ohplease, hethought/orone^just once, skutupandletitgo.

"... it's none of your business." She glared at him.

"Given your own preference for interior decoration,"

she said indicating his sword and dagger collection, "I'd

say you have titanium gall to make snarky remarks

about mine."

 

"But I like it. I said I liked it!"

 

"And what," she continued unheeding, "would

someone with such a morbid fascination with

humanity's lapses into ritualized slaughter know about

romance anyway?"

 

Simeon was dumbstruck. "I've never... thought of

my interest in military history as a 'morbid fascination.'

I am genuinely fascinated by strategy and military tac-

tics. But to call it morbid, well, romance and morbidity

have a long and interesting relationship."

 

She sighed with exasperation. "Let's just say that while

both can be morbid, romance and militarism make

uncomfortable..." and she winced "... bedfellows."

 

"Channa, some of the most romantic people in his-

tory have been military personnel. Doesn't the very

word 'warrior' conjure up romantic images?"

 

She shook her head discouragingly. "Not to me!"

 

"Not even 'knights in shining armor'?"

 

She groaned. "Look, Simeon, it's late and I'm tired.

Let's just say that I don't like my privacy invaded at any

time, by anyone." Her lips curled in a slight rueful grin.

"But I think I overreacted a tad. Especially when you

made fun of my decor."

 

"Well, you might wait till you're actually being made

fun of before you start clawing pieces out of people."

 

56

 

Anne McCaffny 67 SM. Sttrting

 

"Sorry."

 

"Romance has its place," he murmured.

 

She smiled sardonically and raised one eyebrow.

"With all due respect, Simeon, I doubt that romance

has crossed your mind. Real, genuine romance, with its

aspects of tenderness and sentiment are, if you'll

excuse me, beyond your ken."

 

TTiere was more challenge than honest regret in her

voice, and he took offense. "Because I'm a shellper-

son?" he asked, fairly purring with suppressed anger.

 

Channa's jaw dropped. "N-no, of course not!" she

said, stammering slightly. Then she caught herself and

shook her hairbrush at him. "What a nasty, evil, slimy

debater's trick! You know perfectly well that I never

even thought of that! What I meant was that so far in

our acquaintance, you have yet to demonstrate that

you are sensitive, or idealistic or ... well, tender,

ftission, now Ñ I think you've very effectively concep-

tualized raw, basic, animal passion. Which does not

exist in the same universe as romance."

 

"Let me tell you something, Ms. Hap. I'm well aware

that romance happens in the mind and the soul and

the heart. I know that it isn't necessarily a physical

thing. Remember Heloise and Abelard.. .*

 

"Great warrior couple, were they?" she asked smiling.

 

He sighed to himself. What do they teach them in univer-

sity these days? "Not they, milady. I see I must persuade

you beyond any measure of doubt You've put me on

my mettle." She cocked her head at him. "I shall court

you, belle dame sans merri, and win your heart."

 

She laughed aloud in astonishment. "You've got

your work cut out for you. I may like the romanticalÑ

as decor Ñ but I'm no dewy-eyed sentimentalist and

not at all susceptible."

 

"Oh, so you're seduction-proof, are you?"

 

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer.

Goodnight, Simeon."

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

57

 

"Goodnight, Channa," he said quietly as she left

without another word.

 

Not susceptible, eh, Happy baby1? Well, get ready for it,

sweetheart Ñ you're in for the time of your life.1 You want

romance? FU give you romance, little lady, in such subtle and

clever portions, you won't realize that you're being wooed by a

very personal phantom lover.

 

He settled down to consider his strategy. Softshells

could rely on physical attraction for starters; that was

impossible for him, of course.

 

How to begin, he wondered. Well, with Channa, I sup-

pose I could start with deft cooperation and nineteenth-century

manners. I'd better look into the mores of Hawking Alpha

Proxima Station and see what their courting customs are.

Nothing so blatant as gifts right off, hmmm. Ah-ha! Music!

After all, it hath charms to soothe the savage beast, or breast.

Both apply in this case. Now, fit just access her musical reper-

toire Ñ which doesn't invade her privacy, merely her overt

records...

 

"Hey, Simeon, what's going on?" Joat said, turning

from her breakfast to stare at his column.

 

"Going on, my dear?" Simeon said.

 

"Yeah, going on. All of a sudden you're so smooth

you'd make a wombat puke, and Channa looks as if

she'd just found a dead body, a long-time dead body."

 

Channa snorted suddenly. Since she was in the mid-

dle of a mouthful of coffee, the results were spectacular.

Joat silendy offered her a napkin as she coughed and

sputtered.

 

"You're imagining things," Simeon replied, with a

touch of asperity. He shifted into a mellow tone: "Are

you all right, Channa?"

 

"What's wrong with Simeon?" Patsy asked, sotto

voce. They were in the shadow of an impeller pump,

and the vibration would make voice-pickup difficult

 

58

 

Arme McCaffrcy &? SJW. Stirling

 

"Wrong?" Channa said, frowning.

 

"Yeah, he'sagreem' all the time.

 

"Now that you mention it..."

 

The woman from Larabie shrugged. "Don't look a

gift horse in the mouth, Chan. But, if you do, check the

teeth fer file-marks."

 

Chief Administrator Claren gave a final keystroke.

 

"That's the projections matched against the past five

years," he said. "You'll note turnover is a little high, but

on a transit station, it's difficult to keep people."

 

Channa frowned. "I'd think it would be easier here,"

she said. "More big-city facilities."

 

"Also easier to leave," Claren pointed out, nodding

towards the large passenger terminal.

 

"We should do more in the way of social and cultural

activities," Channa said. "The contingency fund would

cover it, and in the long run, such amenities pay for

themselves and then some. There are a lot of mining

and exploration sectors around here " Ñ which was

exactly why SSS-900-C had been established in the

middle of the cluster of mineral-rich fifth-generation

suns Ñ "and their people need leisure activities just as

much as their equipment and ships need servicing.

The Perimeter's a gold mine for its owners and for the

station, to name your only real star attraction. If the

outposters could get entertainment and commissary

supplies in a range from cheap to expensive, they

wouldn't need to travel further in towards Center. This

whole area would take a big step further toward being

part of the Central Worlds and not just a primitive

frontier zone,"

 

"Exactly, Ms. Hap," Claren said. He was a mousy-

looking little man, with thinning black hair combed

back over his head. He dressed like a humorist's carica-

ture of a bureaucrat, down to the keypad holder on his

belt. "It's what I've been saying for years."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

59

 

"What do you think, Simeon?" Channa asked.

 

"Sounds good to me," the affable city manager

replied.

 

Claren coughed violently; one of his hovering assis-

tants scurried forward with a glass of water.

 

Channa waited until he had recovered. "Surprise

you, did he?"

 

"Surprise me? Me? No, no, something caught in my

throat. Air's dry, I think." He hastily swallowed another

sip of water to reinforce that interpretation. "Now, here,"

and his fingers flew over the key of his terminal, "are

some plans we've had pending, with the projected Ñ"

 

"Answer the question, please, Administrator

Claren," she said firmly but quietly. She might be new,

but she could recognize "sign now, please," when she

heard it

 

"Well, ah, this isn't the first time these specific

projects have been put forward," Claren said. "But, ah,

there has never been a sufficiently positive reaction to

implement the schemes. Until now, that is. It's a

pleasure to work with someone who can appreciate

planning ahead and is so naturally decisive. Ahhhhh,

oh dear." His voice trailed off.

 

Channa's took on a steely note. "Changed our mind,

have we, Simeon?"

 

"This station wasn't in a position to plunge into such

an ambitious project. Much less have the incentive,"

Simeon replied smoothly. "Tell was a roughneck like

me. Neither of us had the background for coordinating

such enterprises. Here, anyway."

 

Channa turned, subliminally aware of something

moving through the air behind her. It was a message

tray, floating at elbow height. The domed top folded

back, revealing chilled glasses and a frosted, un-

corked bottle of a fine vintage. A single red rose lay on

the white napery. Her lips grew thin but, as she saw

Claren watching her closely and knew that she must

 

60

 

Ame McCaffrey &? SM. Stating

 

be flushing, she controlled her impulse to sling the

bottle at the sensor that linked Simeon to this office.

 

"Yes, by all means let us drink to the success of this

undertaking, Claren," she said and began to pour.

 

Facetiously, she lifted her glass towards the sensor

and sipped, mildly surprised at the dry crisp taste.

"Hmm. Not a bad white! Didn't know you had it in you,

Simeon."

 

"I'm not without a few talents of mine own," he

replied, wishing there was an imager in Claren's office

so he could project the suave smile he was feeling.

 

She downed the rest of the glass, replacing it on the

float. "If you'd just transfer the plans to my terminal,

Administrator Claren, I can peruse them at my

leisure." Then she strode purposefully out of the

office.

 

She was storming by the time she got to their lounge.

"I bet you think you were being subtlel Subtle like collid-

ing with an asteroid, you Ñ" She swung around to the

screen which he had prudently left blank, giving her

anger no focus. Then she began to hear the sounds fill-

ing the room.

 

Simeon delightedly watched her expression

gradually alter from livid to astonished and finally to

enchanted as the lilting sounds of the Reticulaii mating

croon filled the lounge. The sounds were long, low,

dreamy. There was no formal melody, but somehow

the theme suggested the stillness of deep forest and

dew felling like liquid diamond in streaks of sunlight

dazzling through die leaves.

 

Channa stood still for a moment. She winced slightly as

the door dosed with an audible swoosh, annoyed that

any other sound marred the perfection of what she was

hearing. Then, stepping carefully, as though fearful that

doth brushing against doth or shoe against carpet might

cause her to lose a precious second of the complex musk

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

61

 

that surrounded her, she walked to a chair. She sat down

so slowly she seemed to float down to it, scarcely seemed

to breathe as she absorbed the music.

 

My first impression of her was correct, Simeon thought,

watching Channa. She is a fox! Then, peering more

dosely, he wasn't so sure, for her eyes were half-dosed,

starred with tears, and his acute vision let him see the

skin of her face relaxing, smoothing out Shedoesn't look

that foxy now! In feet, she looks kinda... sweet

 

When the croon had drifted offinto a serene silence,

she sat without moving. Then she dosed her eyes and

slowly leaned back, clasping her hands before her.

When she opened her eyes, they shone and her voice

was husky.

 

"Oh, Simeon ... I can forgive you a lot of tricks for

thatl I might even kiss you. In appreciation, of course.

That was so beautiful. Thank you," and she smiled.

 

Simeon modulated his voice so that there was a "smile"

in his tones when he answered her. "You're welcome. Do

you happen to know what that was?" He didn't think she

was likely to, but he kept that out of his tone.

 

She wiped an eye and said, "I've never had the

opportunity to hear one, but that has to be a Reticulan

croon."

 

"You're right about that," Simeon said with satisfac-

tion. "But 111 bet you'll never guess who performed it"

He tried hard to keep any smugness out of his voice.

 

"Now, how would I know tufe? sang, much less who

could, beside Reticulans, and they're on the other side

of this galaxy. Oh! It couldn't be ..." Her eyes went

round in awed surprise. "Not Helva? She's supposed to

be able to sing them. But... you ... and Helva, the

ship who sings?"

 

"None other." Simeon was gratified by her reaction.

 

"You know her?"

 

"Indeed I do," and Simeon allowed himself to speak

with considerable pride. "She drops by every now and

 

62

 

Anne McCaffrey fcf S M. Stating

 

then to visit Ñ" he couldn't resist a little pause for effect

"Ñ me. We discuss and exchange contemporary music

from all parts of the galaxy. Since there are so few record-

ings of Reticulan croons Ñ which we shellpeople enjoy

so much Ñ she herself made me a gift of this one." The

memory of his thrill at receiving such a prize colored his

tone.

 

Channa smiled in response. "Finally read my per-

sonnel tape, did you?"

 

"Well, I'd love to say that I'm just terribly perceptive,

but music's mentioned as a significant interest. I just

thought this particular recording might please, too."

 

"Oooh," she said with a quaver in her laugh, "music

hath charms department? As you said not long ago," and

there was an edge of combined sarcasm and chagrin,

"you have a few talents." Then she added brightly, "Do

you sing, too? That's not mentioned in your personals."

 

Simeon made a throat-clearing, clearly self-

deprecating sound. "I am not like Helva and make no

claims to musical discrimination. I listen to what I like,

but I don't know if I'll like something until I hear it."

 

"So what else have you heard and liked?" she asked,

relaxed in the afterglow of the beautiful croon.

"Besides rockjack, that is?"

 

His tone was embarrassed. "I really don't tike Rant

much. I just got used to it, you know. The guys on those

early mining belt assignments I had didn't play anything

else. Most ofwhat I like turns out to be classical or operatic."

 

"Me, too," she said, smiling towards his column with

a kindliness he had not seen in her before. "Well, if

Helva liked you enough to give you that superb

Reticulan recording, and you actually admit to a

preference for classical and operatic, perhaps we

should call a truce?"

 

"A truce? Do we need one?"

 

She narrowed her eyes. "In a manner of speaking,

we do. We have struck a few sparks." She grinned. "A

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

63

 

mutual appreciation of music is so far probably the

firmest common ground between us. Halfway through

secondary school, I realized that my best friends were

also my choirmates." She leaned toward the column,

with the first intimacy she had so far shown him. "We

used to produce and cast ghost operas."

 

"You did what?"

 

"We'd choose a subject or theme, and a composer, then

select a cast The rules said that composer and cast have

to be dead,"

 

"Really? How bizarre!" Simeon paused to consider

the notion. "Do go on."

 

"We'd start with ... the name of this opera. Say,

'Rasputin.' Have you heard of him?" The merry tone

of her voice was subtly teasing, challenging him.

 

"Of course, I have. He's often credited with being

the indirect cause of a successful revolution."

 

She regarded his column with a wry expression.

"You would know about him if he caused a war,

wouldn't you?"

 

"Do we, or don't we have a truce?"

 

"We do," she said, holding up both hands in surrender.

 

"Who writes this 'Rasputin' opera?"

 

"Oh, Verdi," she said instantly. "Sucha grand theme as

well as that particular time would appeal to him. Don't

you think? Now, you tell me who should play the lead."

 

Simeon accessed the necessary historical information

from his files. "In the available likenesses of him,

Rasputin has enormous eyes and a riveting gaze, so we

want a singer who's physically powerful and dramatically

able to do justice to such a role. How about fllac Sue, the

Sondee tenor?"

 

"Eh... he does have a compelling gaze, I grant you,

and his eyes are large. But don't you think he has a few

too many of them? Besides he's only retired, not dead,"

 

Simeon flipped back a massive leap in the research

file. "Um, Placido Domingo?"

 

64

 

Amu McCaffrey 6f SM. Stirling

 

"I know of him! He lived in a time blessed with great

tenors. He's perfect! Tall, lean, big brown eyes and

what a voice. Nice choice, Simeon."

 

"And he's dead, too."

 

"I can see it now," she said, standing suddenly and

clutching histrionically at her throat. "They poison him,

you see," and then she flung her arms wide, "and he

sings! They stab him," she mimed a thrust to the bosom,

before flinging her arms wide again, "and he sings! They

drown him," she flapped her arms as though splashing

frantically, then placed both hands on her heart, "and he

sings! They shoot him," she staggered to Simeon's

column and leaned her back against it.

 

"Channa, he's got to stop singing sometime."

 

She raised a finger, "Sotto voce, he sings, 'it is over.' **

She slid down the column into a graceful art-deco posi-

tion, "And he dies." Her head flopped forward and her

hands dangled loosely from her wrists.

 

The com chimed and the screen cleared, allowing

communications specialist Keri Holen an unob-

structed view of Channa slumped at the base of

Simeon's column. "Oh! What's hap ... I mean, Ms.

Hap! Simeon, is she all right?"

 

Channa was instantly on her feet, palm up in a calm-

ing gesture. "I'm fine," she said, serenely adjusting her

tunic blouse. "What is it?"

 

"Uh ... a message from Child Welfare on Central,

from a Ms. Dorgan. If it's convenient, she's scheduled a

conference call for 1600 today."

 

"Perfect," Simeon said, "tell her thank you," and he

broke the connection.

 

"I thank the powers that be that wasn't Ms. Dorgan

herself," Channa said nervously.

 

"I like that 'if it's convenient,'" Simeon said, musingly.

"Channa, have you ever replied, 'No, it's damned

inconvenient' ?"

 

Channa regarded him with a singularly blank

 

THE Cnv WHO FOUGHT

 

65

 

expression. "No, actually I haven't But then, in my

branch of the service, it shouldn't ever be!"

 

Simeon studied Joat nervously, wondering if they

should have dressed her differently. All the other

children her age wore the same shapeless clothes, dis-

gusting and often raucous color combinations, but not

necessarily what the prudent guardian would recom-

mend for this kind of interview. The com chimed.

 

Too late, he thought. Channa seemed calm, but then

Channa always seemed calm. Odd when she can exude

such depths of hostility.... Still, she always did them with a

controlled and icy demeanor. Yeah, Channa was fine.

Joat's hands were clasped in her lap. Poor fad, her knuck-

les are white. But otherwise she seemed composed. Tm

fme, too, he thought Tm not calm, but fin fme.

 

Ms. Dorgan studied them from die screen, like a teacher

assessing a class of delinquents, then smiled, a tight supe-

rior little smile. Her hair was gray, cut short, combed in a

simple disciplined style. She wore a severe dark blue suit

with a prim white blouse and no jewelry. The view ofback-

ground behind her was official and equally unsofiened by

anythingeven remotely unofficial

 

I'll bet she starches her bras, Simeon thought. He

remembered Patsy Sue using that expression: entirely

appropriate right now.

 

Ms. Dorgan nodded to Channa, then fastened her

cold litde eyes on Joat. "Hello, dear," she said in syrupy

tones. "I'm Ms. Dorgan, your case-worker."

 

Joat's face had hardened to wariness, her whole

body going rigid. Simeon wondered how his nutrient

fluid had suddenly gone so cold, but he didn't dare

divert an erg of his attention away from these proceed-

ings. He didn't even dare reassure Joat. She mumbled

a barely audible "hello" in response.

 

"Well, dear, you made some very impressive scores

on the tests. Did you know that?"

 

66

 

Anne McCaffrey &? SM. Stirling

 

A nearly inaudible "no" answered her.

 

Ms. Dorgan glanced down at something below the

screen's range, and then her right hand became visible,

probably pressing the button to scroll her file forward.

 

"You are, however, considerably behind your age

group in a good many subjects, with the exception of

mathematics and mechanicals, where you positively

excel." That much was said with some genuine

enthusiasm. "You've no idea the excitement you've

generated in some quarters. I think you may now

anticipate a much brighter future than your past may

have led you to expect, dear."

 

Simeon spoke for the first time, keeping his promise to

his prote"ge\ *Joat wants to study engineering. You

obviously concur that she has a unique talent in that field."

 

Ms. Dorgan's studied smile wavered and the tendons

on her neck stood out with the strain of not obviously

peering around the room. "You are the ... shellper-

son?" She seemed to hold her thin lips away from the

word as though it might soil them. Her eyes roved

between Channa and Joat as though hoping one of

them might be ventriloquising the male voice.

 

"Yes. I am Simeon, the SSS-900-C. I'm applying to

adopt Joat as a full daughter and full relation."

 

Ms. Dorgan's hand delicately brushed a strand of

hair back into place.

 

"Yes, well, as to that," she raised her brows as

though surprised that he had spoken at all, "you real-

ize that other prospective parents have put in

applications for children with Joat's potential. We

usually give preference to couples." There was a feint

emphasis on the final word. She fingered her collar

nervously. "In Joan's case..."

 

*Joat," said Joat, Simeon and Channa in unison.

 

'Joat's case, I've shown her file to a quantum-lattice

engineer, who is a professor of my acquaintance, and he

immediately expressed an interest in her. He'sextremely

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

67

 

enthusiastic about tutoring someone of such promise.

He's married, too, on a life-contract with a poet Such a

situation would have many advantages for die child."

 

Simeon watched Joat's face go white. "As a station

manager, I am intimately acquainted with a variety of

sciences, including regular updates on state-of-the-art, so 1

am quite capable of tutoring her, on the practical level she

prefers, in any specialty that interests her. Relax, Joat Ms.

Gorgon'smerelymentioningoptionsand possibilities.'*

 

The case-worker loudly cleared her throat" My name,

Station Manager Simeon, is Dorgan, with a D. Which

reminds me, Joat, somewhere on the application, ah,

here it is, it says diat your name is an acronym for 'jack-of-

all-trades.' Where Jack* was a gender-inappropriate first

name, Jill* was substituted. How would you feel about

being called Jill?"

 

"About the same as I'd feel about being called shit,"

Joat replied, every inch the belligerent corridor-kid now,

scornful and angry; no trace of her earlier diffidence

remaining. "And I wouldn't answer to it 'cause it's not my

name."

 

'Joat!" Channa gasped.

 

"Don't you see it, Simeon, Channa?" Joat said, her

blue eyes sparkling with contempt "This is all a joke!

This ol'Ms. Organ..."

 

"Dorgan, if you please."

 

"... bitch has made up her mind. What are we wast-

ing our time and credit talkiri to her for?"

 

"Calm down, Joat," Simeon said. "Let's not jump to

conclusions yet. Ms. Dorgan, although I have

unlimited communication links, my time is heavily

scheduled, and I was assured by the authorities that

this was merely a formality. Shall we move to settling

the details now?"

 

Slightly pink in the cheeks, Ms. Dorgan took a deep

breath and released it in a small huff.

 

"I can'tbelieve that you would persistin thisapplication,

 

68

 

Anne McGffiey & S.M. Stnimg

 

knowing that a human couple is interested in the child It

would be one thing if no one wanted her, but that is not the

case. In the first place, since she's at a very sensitive stage of

development, there is no way that someone like you could

appreciate what she's going through."

 

"Because Simeon is male?" Channa asked quietly.

 

"Because he is a shellperson. My dear Ms. Hap, as a

professional brawn, you are surely well-acquainted

with the peculiarities of these persons. Why deny that

they are practically a different species? With no real

understanding of what it's like to be independently

mobile? How could he possibly raise an active, growing

child?" The slight emphasis on the two adjectives made

Channa clench her teeth in disgust Dorgan's question

was also rhetorical.

 

"Well, now, Joat," Simeon drawled, heavily borrow-

ing from Patsy Sue again, "I guess you were right. Ms.

Gorgon had made up her mind before she saw us."

 

"That's Dorgan," the case-worker said, leaning

heavily on the "d."

 

"Toldja," Joat said, "ol* Ms. Organ's already

decided."

 

"Dorgan. Dorgan. DORGANI"

 

"Stop it! All three of you." Channa cast her glare

over Simeon's column, Joat's flushed face, and finally

settled it on the Child Welfare representative. "You

have some very strange ideas about shellpeople, Ms.

Dorgan, with a D. My advice would be to consider care-

fully before you make any more bigoted remarks. I

particularly resent your denying Simeon his intrinsic

humanity. I've never met a shellperson who wasn't at

hist as able and responsible as a softperson. And indis-

putably more ethical! In fact, your remarks indicate

active prejudice on your part. Prejudice which is, I

might remind you, legally actionable.''

 

Ms. Dorgan raised her chin. "There's no need, no

need at all, Ms. Hap, to make threats. No doubt it is due

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

69

 

to your long association with such persons that you no

longer consider them... abnormal." Before Channa

could get over sputtering at that, the case-worker

smiled smugly. "In the child's best interests, I'm afraid

that I shall have to deny this petition. I shall make

arrangements for her transport to Central, where,

after a short stay at our orphan facility, she will no

doubt be adopted by aproper family." Still smiling she

broke the connection.

 

"Well?" Simeon almost shouted into the ensuing

silence. "You're not going to let her have the last word

on this, are you?"

 

"Don't she have it? Far's this orphan child's con-

cerned?" Joat demanded bitterly. "I knew this'd

happen. I told myself this'd happen. But you two

trained brains were both so damned sure" She sneered

as she counted off her points. "You knew just where to

go and just who to talk to and just what to do. But you

know what? You don't know ANYTHING! But after

all, how could you?" she asked her eyes beginning to fill

with tears. "Everything's always gone your way. Every-

thing's always just been handed to you." She started to

sob. "Shells, education, food, a living place. Well, they

don't get handed out, lemme tell ya. And look what

you've done to me\ Now they know I exist and where I

am, and they're coming to get me! For all I know, that

lattice engineer wants to play diddly on my lattice work.

Only he's human and a professor and's got an 'in* with

her. You got me into this, but I'm sure not waiting for

you to get me out. I'm not goin' anywhere with nobody \

don't want to!" Her voice had reached scream level

before she pivoted and ran from the lounge.

 

*Joat!" Channa moved to follow her, but Simeon

closed the door in her face. "Simeon!" she said in

disbelief.

 

"Let her go, Channa. What could you do now? Lock

her in her room until they come for her?" Channa

 

70

 

Anne McCaffrty &? SM. Stating

 

looked as though he'd struck her. "She needs time and

privacy. She needs to feel in control again. Let her alone."

 

"There are things we can do, Simeon. I'm not going

to let that woman win. We can go over her head in

Child Welfere. We can appeal to SPRIM and Double M

for help. You taped that interview, didn't you?"

 

He laughed, for once pleased to see her so combative.

"Yes, I did, and won't the Mutant Minorities and the

Society for the Preservation of the Rights of Intelligent

Minorities dump on La Gorgon for her attitudes! Good

thinking, Channa. I'm this very moment apprising them

of this incident Y'know, this could even be fun."

 

Late that night, Simeon noticed that a light came on in

Channa's quarters. He had assiduously kept to his

promise, but the faint glow under the door was plainly

visible. Well, to anyone with photonscanners like mine, he

amended. Still, he was observing the principle of the thing.

 

Channa heard a chiming sound and, after a

surprised pause, called out "Hello?"

 

Simeon's voice, carefully adjusted to low audibility,

answered from the lounge, "May I come in?"

 

She smiled and laid aside the reader she'd picked up.

"Yes, you may."

 

She lay in bed, looking tousled and sleepy. Simeon

thought that she looked little more than a kid herself,

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

 

She shook her head, "I keep thinking of Joat, alone

down there in the dark."

 

"Joat's been asleep for hours,"

 

"How do you know that? She might still be crying

her heart out for all we know."

 

"I know because I can hear little, Joat-sized snores

issuing from one of her favorite haunts."

 

"She didn't turn on her sound-scrubber?"

 

"Nope. She was upset!"

 

"No, she was thoughtful. She is becoming more

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

71

 

civilized if she didn't want us to worry." And Channa

laughed in relief, then sobered. "She's such a good

kid. She really didn't deserve Gorgon on her case.

Look, Simeon, B & B's are considered couples by

Central Worlds. Our contracts tend to last a lot longer

than mere marriages. If I stayed on for say, ten years

and applied for joint custody with you, most of

Gorgon's objections would be invalid."

 

"Joint custody, huh? Well, Gorgon can't say a female

brawn isn't a good role model. I've got comlines hotting

up, but what I don't know is how many others at Child

Welfare suffer from Dorgan's prejudice. I'd hate to see you

make such a 'supreme sacrifice' for nothing. Fighting Ms.

Gorgon through the bureaucracy won't turn us to stone,

but it could bore our brains into oatmeal."

 

Channa gave a litde "tsh" of scorn. "It's not like I've

got anywhere else to go."

 

"I know, I heard about Senalgal. Sorry, Channa. I

know what it's like to lose an assignment you'd sell your

soul to get"

 

She raised her eyebrows inquiringly. "What was it

for you, if you don't mind my asking Ñ a planet-based

city, a scout ship? Or maybe you looked as high as a

whole planet?"

 

"I've got a city, more or less. Definitely not a scout ship.

The brain/brawn scout ship is too claustrophobic and

limited. Ilike dealing withalot of people. lenjoy the give

and take of various personalities and situations. More

challenge on a station this size. Hove being challenged."

 

"Not a city, not a ship. You're after a planet?"

 

"No, I wouldn't want that much responsibility. And a

planet's too sedentary. But a ship, definitely, so I could

get around a lot."

 

"Ah,*' she said, making the connection between his

leisure interests and the only ship assignment that

applied, "a Space Navy command-ship." She cocked

her head. "Are you in line for one?"

 

72

 

Anne McCaffrey fcf SM. Stating

 

"Theoretically, yes. I've applied and what do I get?

"You're too important where you are,' " he began in a

singsong monotone, " 'You're too perfect where you

are, there's no one else as well-trained as you are for

such a highly specialized situation.' I've always," he

added wryly, "considered SSS-900-C to be a temporary

assignment.''

 

"Forty years is temporary?''

 

"With shellpersons, of course it is."

 

"Maybe we aren't so imperfectly matched after all."

She paused a moment, then in a flippant tone added,

"With Joat to sweeten the deal, I don't think I would

regard staying here as a 'supreme sacrifice.' Ugh!

Orphan facility, indeed! Pick her up? Like some sort of

a package?" She peered out of her room towards his

column. "Do you think we stand a chance of reversing

Dorgan's decision?"

 

Simeon wouldn't have taken bets, but he had barely

tackled the task. On the up side, he felt something deep

inside him beginning to uncoil. "With a B & B partner-

ship, we have a chance. 1 appreciate your willingness to

consider one very much, Channa. Right now though,

dear lady, why don't you sleep on it?"

 

She sighed. "Mm, but I'm restless, and," she played

with an edge of the reader, "there's nothing I really

want to read."

 

"Then," he said, gendy dimming the lights, "I shall

recite a bedtime poem for you. Settle in." He waited

until she had scooted down and adjusted covers and

pillows, smiling as she did so. He began, "We who with

songs beguile your pilgrimage ..." Her eyes dosed,

and gradually she drifted off to sleep as Simeon recited.

 

"... softly through the silence beat the bells,

 

Along the golden road to Samarkand."

 

CHAPTERFIVE

 

Channa emerged into the lounge, heading for the

table and her morning coffee. A wave of sound struck

her Ñ very much a wave, like plunging into a curling

jade-green wall that seized her and bore her back

towards the beach.

 

She couldn't help but recognize the music as "The Tri-

umphal March" from The Empress of Ganymede by User.

 

She paused with a slight frown when she realized

that she had unconsciously altered her stride to suit the

march tempo. She stopped, and her pause was the

length of a measure. She laughed when she realized it.

"Does this mean I get to be queen today?"

 

"Actually, after your restless night, I decided some-

thing upbeat would suit."

 

"Well, I sure got off on the right foot, then," she said

with a sound approximating a giggle.

 

Simeon was pleased. Last night their relationship

really had turned a corner. They were going to be all

right.

 

"So, a good morning to you, Simeon," she said with

an impish smile.

 

"And a good morning right back atcha, as Patsy Sue

would say."

 

Channa's appreciative smile faded slowly into a

frown. "I'd consider it a real good morning if I could

see and speak to Joat as soon as possible. I'm very

worried that she might jump ship on us, and that

would ruin every step of progress we've made with

her."

 

74

 

fc? SM. Stirling

 

"Wish I could oblige you on that, Charm a, but I

don't know where she is now. She turned on her

sound-scrubber early this morning and effectively

vanished." He hurried on when Channa's face

showed her disappointment clearly. "I don't think

she'd leave on two counts. One, she knows her way

intimately between the skins of this station, and it's

certainly big enough for her to change hidey-holes on

an hourly basis if necessary. And two, none of the

ships undocking today are the type she could stow

away on or hire out on. I've got every sensor tuned to

her registered patterns, and I've discreetly alerted

key personnel."

 

Channa nodded and went to her console, pulling the

notescreen towards her. "Then we had better get to

work. SPRIM ought to be moving on that dispatch you

sent off last night." Her anxiety lifted at Simeon's

knowing chuckle. She ran her fingers in a tattoo on the

console. "And I suspect Child Welfare won't like being

on their hit list."

 

"Hit list?" Simeon spoke with some alarm. "Are they

that way inclined?" He didn't wish Ms. Dorgan any

pkysicalharm.

 

"The way SPRIM execs rave about humanocentric

chauvinism is enough to turn even a tolerant person

into a xenophobe. They've got money and they're tire-

less in ensuring protection. That slur she made on

shellpeople, well.,. And the MM make SPRIM look

like a quilting party."

 

"Quilting party?" Simeon searched his lexicon for

the term.

 

"Old-fashioned way to spend a productive and

socializing evening," she explained absently,

 

"Oh. Not much we can do until they get back to us, I

suppose."

 

Simeon sounded unhappy. Channa quirked a

corner of her mouth.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

75

 

"We can't go in with lasers blazing and slag Child

Welfare Central, if that's what you mean. If the station

had full self-government, they wouldn't be able to mess

with us Ñ so let's concentrate on station business for

now, shall we?" She cleared her throat. "I've been

going over your accounts, Simeon, and I've got to say

that you have some weird entries. For example, tucked

away in the fourth quarter is the notation 'stuff.' You'll

have to be more specific than 'stuff.'"

 

"Why? 'Stuff' is acceptable to the accountants," he

said in a facetious tone.

 

"I'm not an accountant. I'm supposed to be your

partner. Would you explain 'stuff'?"

 

"It's like this, Channa, I buy things that interest me.

Me, Simeon, not the station master brain." Never mind

that that also accounted for why he hadn't paid off his

natal debt to Central Worlds. So Tm a packrat. Is that her

business now?

 

Far out in space, Simeon's peripheral monitors, the

ring of sensors that warned of incoming traffic, began

to transmit information that suggested a very large

object was headed their way. From the ripples it caused

in subspace, it was very large or very fast or both. He

split his attention between her and the alert, and sent a

communicator pulse in the direction of the distur-

bance. There were strict rules on how to approach a

station. Approaching unheralded broke half a dozen

regs and invariably caused stiff credit penalties.

 

Respond to hailing, he transmitted. Respond

immediately.

 

"Well, we've got this inspection and audit coming up

in two weeks," he heard Channa saying in a firm let's-

not-beat-about-the-bush tone. "We have get to have

everything shipshape and Bristol fashion, partner."

 

He did appreciate that she subtly reminded him of

her promise to help with Joat, but this was no time for

petty details.

 

76

 

Anne McCaffrey &? SM. Stating

 

"I don't have a ship shape, Channa," he muttered in

his distraction, "but I do have something very unusual

out there, approaching me without due protocol."

 

Visual information was now reaching him. Dropping

out of interstellar transit and approaching at... Great Ghu>

.17 c! A large vessel whose profile did not fit any known

human ship. The basic hufl-fonn was spherical, but car-

ried a web of crazy-quilt additions, constructions of girder

and latticework. Some of them looked as if they had been

slashed off short with energy beams, and the cutpoints

were tattered. People were generally not sloppy with cut-

ting tools. Enemies were. Simeon relayed a standard

"please identify" message and put the tugbays on standby.

 

"Nor am I abristle," he continued to Channa. "The

inspectors will be when they come, though."

 

Channa groaned. "Even for you that was lame.

You're being unusually ridiculous, Simeon. You know

the mentality that goes with these inspections Ñ sen-

tence first, trial afterwards."

 

"In other words, off with our heads, if they could

reach mine."

 

"And us running as fast as we can to stay in one place,

too. Which capability you also don't have. Now, since

this is my first time with you.. .**

 

"Oh, Channa... pant, pant**

 

"Simeon," she said warningly. "I know where the

controls for your hormone balance are."

 

"Heh hen, sorry. What's the worst they can do to

me? Send me back to asteroidic purgatory? Like I told

you, I'm only on temporary duty here anyway."

 

Channa had been running a scan. "There are twelve

entries for the word 'stuff'! You want this to be a tem-

porary assignment? Well, you may get your wish."

 

"It's not a wish, my dear, I never said 'I wish they'd

take me away from here and put me anywhere else.'

I've a very definite destination in mind, as you so

astutely concluded the other evening. If I had my

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

77

 

druthers, I'd be running a command ship and waging

star wars on the Axial Perimeter. But," and he gave a

huge audible sigh, "wbo believes in wishes anymore?"

 

"You do, with all your war games and tactical

daydreams."

 

The approaching ship still had not responded, nor

was it dumping speed as fast as it should. In fact,

whoever was in command had waited much too long to

begin doing so. The flare of drive energies should be

blanking out that whole quadrant, and the neutrino

flux was barely enough for a pile just ticking over.

Simeon came to a disagreeable conclusion.

 

"Whoa, there, Channa. We've got stuff, not mine,

coming in to make mince of us if we're not careful.

Have a look?"

 

Simeon slapped up a main screen view of the

intruder bearing down on them. Surprise and alarm

held her motionless for only a split second before she

reacted.

 

"I'm alerting the perimeter guard," she said, wiping

her previous program and inputing the new.

 

"Right!" Although he already had, two sources of the

same alert emphazised the emergency. "I'm busy cal-

culating how to cushion the impact of that great

hulking mass whistling towards us. I hope they know

where the brakes are." Nice to have a brawn to share

emergency work. The station personnel should get

used to dealing with her.

 

Stabbing the alert button on the main console,

Channa then called up a finer resolution of the object,

which to her appeared to be a darker mass against the

black of space.

 

"Unannounced arrival!" She transmitted the image

to the personnel on perimeter traffic control, alerting

them to the pertinent vector and ordering them to

begin rerouting incoming traffic.

 

"How do you know it's ivhistting toward us?" she

 

78

 

Aftne McCaffrey fc? 5 M. Stirling

 

asked in as calm a voice as he was using while her

fingers flew over the controls. "There's no sound in

space."

 

Simeon could detect just a micro-tremor of fear in

her noncommittal tone. "If I think it whistles," he

answered, "it whisdes."

 

"Perimeter says it's like nothing they've ever seen

before either and Ñ" she paused and licked her lips

"Ñ it's about to cut a broad swath through the proper

traffic pattern."

 

Simeon took full control of the traffic control boards.

He could see and respond to die necessary changes in

traffic patterns faster than any unshelled human. He

was simultaneously redirecting and responding to

dozens of ships.

 

Suddenly Channa started cursing. "Damn their eyes

and innards! These damned civilians are asking ques-

tions instead of doing what they're supposed to in

emergency routines. Now you see why I didn't like you

calling those false alarms. No one's paying a blind bit of

attention to tkasgenuine emergency! Wolf-cryer!"

 

"I've put it on every public screen. They'll know it's

no drill," Simeon said, his voice velvet with malice, "and

it's coming straight at us. I don't think it'll stop,"

 

I didn't realize you could banter when you're terrified, he

thought with tight control, though it helped being able

to set your analogue of adrenal glands.

 

Channa stared, stunned, as the screen filled with the

alien ship. "You haven't activated the repel screen? Hit

it for God's sake!" She pressed her rocker switch just a

fraction of a second behind Simeon.

 

Joat gritted her teeth and wiped eyes and nose on

the back of her sleeve. It was a good shirt, and dean.

Dumb, she told herself fiercely. Dumb, dumb, dumb bitch,

dumb gash, just like the captain told you you were. Especially

when he was drunk. He'd always been worse then.

 

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

 

79

 

She turned her attention back to the little computer.

It was the best she'd ever been able to steal, a real

Spuglish; jacked into the station system right now, with

the skipper-unit she'd cobbled up to keep the station

from knowing just where or why.

 

Ship schedules / departures / outsystem, she told it

Machines didn't lie to you! You could trust machines

and, if they didn't do what they were supposed to, it

wasn't because they had lied. Maths and machinery

could be believed.

 

A barking sob broke through her lips, spattering

drops on the screen. She bit down on her hand until

the pain and the taste of her own blood let her con-

tinue. Then she wiped the machine down with the tail

of her shirt Machines didn't let you down, either.

 

Departures, the computer said. Look, Joat, you

don't have to leave here. Trust me, we'reÑ

 

"No!" she screamed.

 

Joat stuffed the scramblers into her pockets and

went off down the duct at a scrambling crawl, ignoring

projections and brackets that only slighdy impeded her

progress. The motions were reflexive, with a graceless

efficiency.

 

Nobody's going to give me away again, she thought. Get

me used to eating regular and school and everything, then give

me away! The thought went round and round in her

head, filling it, so that it was minutes before the klaxon

penetrated her self-absorption.

 

"Oh, shit," she whispered in a still small voice, listen-

ing. Then she turned and went back the way she came,

faster still The computer was back there, and without it,

she wouldn't be able to find out what was really going on.

 

Her spacesuit was diere, too. This sounded serious.

 

"THIS IS NO DRILL! REPEAT, THIS IS NO

DRILL1" The words rang down the corridors and

haUspaces, without the melodramatic klaxons Simeon

 

80

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating

 

had always used. "Nonessential personnel report to

secure areas. Report to secure areas. Prepare for breach

of hull integrity."

 

This time the citizens of the SSS-900-C listened, hasten-

ing into suits, gathering children and pets and heading for

the central core or section shelters. Crews pelted onto their

ships, even as moorings were detached and entry locks

irised shut and each "all on board" signal was relayed to

Simeon. Emergency crews flocked to their assigned sta-

tions. Infirmary patients who could not be moved were

placed in individual, independently powered life-support

units. All too soon, most of the citizens of SSS-900-C could

only wait, imagining their station crushed like an egg as

die invader plowed into them.

 

Simeon worked frantically, ordering ships of all sizes

out of the projected path of the incoming ship, brutally

suppressing the knowledge that ships with ordinary,

unshelled pilots could barely handle the split second

timing he was asking of them. So for, so good Ñ no one

out there seemed destined to die today. For a heart-

stopping moment he thought the alien might be

decelerating, but the blaze of energies sputtered and

died. It's only shed 7% of relative velocity, he calculated dis-

mally. Not nearly enough.

 

"Why didn't they program mobility?"

"Who?" Channa asked distractedly. "Where?"

"In me! In this station! I can't duck! I've no weapon-

ry to blast it out of my way. I can't even fend off such

mass. All I can do is watch. What lasers I've got can just

about handle a decent-sized meteor. The best I can do

is warm up his hull a little, and I have to wait till he's up

my ass to do it! Damn! This station is like a paraplegic

spaceship!"

 

"Whoa! Did you see that?" Channa shouted. The

mass had seemed to deliberately veer aside from an

ordinary asteroid miner vessel, something the miner

pilot himself probably couldn't have done. "Watch,"

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

81

 

she said, "there! Did you see? It jigged just a bit to miss

that incoming ferry traffic It is being guided."

 

"But by what?" Simeon asked. He ran calculations

on the ballistics of those maneuvers. The deviations

were absolutely minimal for the effect. "It's traveling so

fast now, no human pilot could stop it and stay con-

scious. TTiey don't answer any radio messages. TTiey're

ignoring the.damn warning flares. Shit, maybe they

think we're welcoming them. Ah, goodF

 

"But they are decelerating again, Simeon," Channa

said, glancing up from her own screens to the main

viewer before she went back to other chores which she

had assumed.

 

"Yeah, marginally longer this time. No, cutting out

Ñ no, decelerating again. Rate of energy-release ...

God, but they're still not dumping enough velocity!

And still on a collision course!" His voice went slightly

wild. "They mustwant to destroy me!"

 

"I don't see any weapons," Channa said, trying to

finish her current task in time.

 

"Who can tell in that jumble of struts and boxes and

crap! Besides, that thing itself is a weapon." Simeon had

just one card to play and at exactly the right moment

for maximum effect. "You're not even suited up,

partner. At least take shelter in my shaft core, Channa."

 

She shook her head, "Not till I'm dirough evacuating

the alien quadrant 'Sides, those Letheans scare easily

enough as it is without me appearing in full gear."

 

She had managed at last to get through to the leader

of the Lethe contingent. A people so formal that emer-

gencies required a ceremony, mercifully brief, for

deferring the usual endless courtesies in favor of sur-

vival. Had Channa not performed the ceremony and

explained the situation to them, they would have died

rather than commit such a breach of manners as

assuming that something was actually wrong. She

broke the connection at last and exclaimed, 'JoatT

 

82

 

Arme McCaffrey & S.M. Stirling

 

"She has a suit," Simeon said, "first thing I gave her.

She's probably in it right now. Why aren't you?"

 

She dashed for the cabinet holding her space suit

and began to struggle into it

 

"Come to me, Channa," he said, in a wildly facetious

tone, "come, touch the hard, male core of my inner-

most being."

 

"Ee-yuck, is that the sort of romance you've been

studying? Try another mode."

 

"When I've world enough and time, lovely one, but

have a look at what I've managed to arrange as stop signs."

 

Seemingly from out of nowhere, three communica-

tions satellites came diving towards the incoming ship,

two striking it head on and one slightly astern. Whole

sections of die scaffolding and outer skin of the derelict

sublimed in white flashes that expanded into circles

with zero-g perfection. The alien ship was not slowed

Ñ there was too much kinetic energy in that mass Ñ

but its vector altered slightly.

 

"Comsats aren't supposed to be able to move like

that!" Channa exclaimed tightly. Simeon's sensors

could hear the pounding of her heart, analyze the

ketones her sweat-damp skin was emitting. Fear under

hard control. The lady has guts, he thought.

 

"A little something I cooked up on my own," he said

smugly.

 

"Cooked in the wrong sort of pot, you crazy loon.

Without those satellites, we'll be out of communication

with half the universe for weeks."

 

"Channa, if I hadn't done that we'd be out of com-

munication with the all of the universe permanently.

Besides, my satellite tactic worked!"

 

Channa looked up at the main monitor and saw that

the projected vector had skewed slightly. "Not

enough," she muttered. "Please don't use any more of

our comm satellites like billiard balls, Simeon. If we do

survive this, they'll be needed more than ever."

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

83

 

"Oh-oh," Simeon muttered.

 

"Oh-oh?" she repeatedly anxious.

 

It means, I screwed the pooch, Channa, Simeon thought

Aloud he went on. "SS Conrad, dump your carrier

modules and get out of that sector. You are now directly

in the path of the incoming ship."

 

"No-can-do SSS-900-C. I've got a full load here. The

company'll have my ass if I desert it"

 

"The company'll have to hold a seance to get it, then,

'cause if you stay put, you're about to become immortaL

Jump it!"

 

"Now!" Channa shouted. "It's less than two

k-thousand kilometers from you. Now, dammit!"

 

"No shit!" the pilot shouted and disconnected the

"cab," the crew quarters and control section of the ship,

from the much larger freight storage sections.

 

They watched the tiny cab move with agonizing

slowness across the seemingly endless bow of the

strange ship.

 

"Down on station horizon," Simeon instructed,

"ninety-degrees, straight down."

 

"Down? You want me to stop? With that bastard

coming right for me! Are you crazy?"

 

"It's your only chance, buddy. She's shallow on the

bottom but, by Ghu, is she wide! Show me what kind of

pilot you are! Not what kind of smear you'll make."

 

Obediently, the little ship flared energy, applying

thrust at right-angles to its previous vector. Its path

shifted, slowly at first and then with growing speed like

a bell-curve graph across a computer screen. Slowly,

slowly, descending, a bright spot against the ever larger

mass approaching them.

 

"Oh shit, oh shit," the captain whispered desper-

ately. "Help?"

 

The intruder was less than a kilometer away, now,

from the cab which looked like a white pin-point

against the black hull of the stranger. At half a

 

84

 

AnruMcCaffrey 6? SM. Stating

 

kilometer it cleared the leading edge of the incoming

ship and the pilot began to laugh wildly.

 

"Keep going," Simeon ordered sharply, to be heard

through the hysteria. "It's about to hit your freighter.

Keep moving till I tell you to stop."

 

"It's ore," the captain gasped though he sounded

more as if he was weeping, "iron ore. Nickel-iron-

carboniferous, in ten-kilo globules,7

 

Atu, crap! Simeon thought, as the intruder struck the

freighter with majestic slowness. The forward third of its

hull vanished in the fireball, and so did much of the

freighter's cargo. The energy-release and spectrographic

analysis would tdl him a good deal about the composition.

Right now he had millions of special delivery meteors

pouring down from the breached holds onto his station.

Greatexample ofNewtonian physics, actionand reaction.

 

The collison had, serendipitously, damped much of

the incoming ship's remaining velocity, but the frag-

ments of ship and cargo had picked it up for

themselves. He tracked the myriad trajectories of the

space flotsam and relayed the information to the ships

in the scatter area, directing them into still more impos-

sible flight patterns. He assigned the computer

responsibility for tracking and blasting the larger

chunks of ore with the station's lasers. No problems

with dispersion when the stuff was in your face. On the

other hand, there was one hell of a lot of it Simeon set

the computer to figuring out just how much would get

through.

 

He realized that Channa was staring at the monitor

in horrified fascination. "Hey Hap, Happy baby, get in

the shaft core."

 

"Why?" she asked. "It's stopping."

 

"Slowing, yes, but if it so much as kisses me on the

cheek, it'll breach the station and you're on a one-way

trip to the nebula. We need you here, so shaft me

baby."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

85

 

"Shaft yourself," she said. "It has come to a complete

cessation of forward movement"

 

A final flare of energy left the aft third of the

intruder's hull slumping and melting, the drive cores

and conduction vanes white-hot and misting titanium-

rutile monofiber.

 

"So it has," Simeon said mildly.

 

Channa gave a giddy whoop and slumped against die

central shaft, trying to wipe at the sweat that filmed her

face. Her glove dadoed against the faceplate ofher helmet

 

"Dead, stock still," he said, feeling intense relief.

"Relative to the station, that is."

 

With a glance at his column, Channa hit the discon-

nect switch and the red warning lights stopped

flashing. Simeon began to announce stand-down to

Condition Yellow in dulcet, paternal tones. Channa

took off her helmet and began to confer with the Lethe

leader, reestablishing the usual formal relations.

 

When at last they disconnected from their various

crucial chores, Channa looked at her incoming

electronic messages and laughed. "By God, but we're a

resilient species. Look at these."

 

Simeon scanned them and laughed, too. "I haven't

even finished flushing the excess adrenalin from my

system and they're already complaining about lost

cargo and insurance. I love the human race. We're con-

sistently more concerned with trivia than serious

threats."

 

"And we're not even out of danger, are we?"

 

"Out of mortal danger. That thing could have

totaled us. The ore will cause a lot of trouble and

expense, so let's maintain Condition Yellow for a

while."

 

That would keep nonessentials out of the exterior

compartments, mostly industrial areas anyway, and

everyone in suits with helmets in reach and within

sprinting distance of the shelters. Megacredits of

 

86

 

Arme McCaffrey 6f 5M. Stirling

 

money were being lost, of course, most of which would

be paid by Lloyds' Interstellar.

 

Channa was examining the strange ship on a dose

screen.

 

"Next question is who, or what's, aboard.**

 

"And if there's anything left of the pilot captain,"

Simeon added, "who's broken regulations I didn't

know existed till now. I sent out a dozen probes to

secure available information on what's left. Ah! Input!"

 

The main screen blanked, and then displayed a

schematic of the strange craft, shifting to a three-

dimensional model as the computers extrapolated.

 

"So that's what it looked like before it started hitting

things and melting down its drives," Simeon mur-

mured as brain and brawn surveyed an elongated

sphere amid its tangle of extensions. "And now I'D sub-

tract what doesn't appear to be part of the original

construction."

 

The resulting model didn't look much like the

slagged ruin tumbling slowly through space in the

real-time image that Simeon kept up in the lower right-

hand corner of the screen. Channa leaned forward and

frowned at such an unfamiliar design. Huge it certainly

was. At least eighty kilotons mass, with extravagant

ship-bays and airlocks, old-fashioned cooling vanes

around the equator...

 

"That looks like human construction," she said

thoughtfully. "Just not any model I've ever seen or

heard about" Human civilization had been unified at

the beginning of starflight and their ships bore a family

resemblance.

 

"It does look vaguely human-made," Simeon agreed,

"but I can't even find a match in historical files of Janes'All

the Galaxy's Spaceships for the last century. The composition

is odd, too; metal-metal fiber matrix. Ferrous alloys. No

comparable design for the last two centuries. Hmmm."

 

"Something?"

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

87

 

"This." He called up an image beside the

reconstructed ship.

 

"Close but no cigar," Channa said.

 

"That's the last of a, line of heavy transports Ñ that

one was a Central Worlds space-navy troop-transport

Designers were Dauvigishipili and Sons. They used to

make a lot of militaty craft, operated on stations out of

the New Lieutas system. See, there is some use to being

a military historian. Ah, tere."

 

The image changed and now there was a virtual

one-to-one match.

 

"Colonial transport," Simeon said. "They stopped

building them about three hundred years ago, so it

could be up to four hundred years old. Original

capacity was ten thousand colonists, in coldsleep of

course, with a crew of thirty. There were a lot of odd lit-

de colonies back then, people looking for places where

they could practice as weird a religion as they wanted

and not have the Central Worlds bugging them. The

few that survived are still pretty flaky. Are you

surprised to learn that the ship-class was called the

Manifest Destiny vehicle? A few of the later models had

brain controllers before Central Worlds put a stop to

that practice on humane grounds. Some of those

minor cults were Ñ" he made a brief pause to consult

his lexicon "Ñ aberrant! Hmm, and I'd bet this one got

transmogrified into an orbital station. Look at all that

stuffi"

 

"Your kind of 'stuff'?" asked Channa ingenuously.

 

"Gadgetry," he amended in a firm, this-is-serious

voice, "plastered on the exterior: observation stuff,

transmission stuff, the usual. And intended to be used

in orbit. I mean, who would try to fly any ship with all

that crap sticking out? For starters, the thrust axis

wouldn't be through the center of mass anymore, so

for starters, it's unbalanced."

 

Channa scanned through more probe transmissions,

 

88

 

Arme McCaffrey fc? 5M. Stirling

 

induding some views taken by the perimeter sensors as

the hulk barreled in, so they could see the havoc caused

by collision and too-rapid deceleration.

 

"They may have had cause for their precipitous

intrusion," she said, and froze a view of the stubs of the

radar and radio antennas. "Those look like battle

damage to me."

 

"Hmmm." Simeon did a rapid close-scan and match

with the naval records in his files. "You're right,

Channa-mine. Transmission antennae sheared off so

they couldn't have responded to our hails. Whoever

shot those darts knew his stuff, and their most vul-

nerable points. See the long star-shaped ripple

patterns in the hull? And those long sort of fuzzy distor-

tions clustered in the rear third of the hull? Those are

beamers at extreme range, I'd say. Hard to tell 'cause

it's so messed up." He spoke more slowly, in an almost

somber tone. "Hell, Channa, beamers like that are

naval ordnance weapons. The real thing." Oh, boy, this is

not like a simulation at all. "Somebody was trying to

destroy that ship."

 

"While the victims were desperate enough to fly

dose to blind and totally deaf," Channa said. That was

not a safe thing to do, even in the vastness of interstellar

space. "My next intelligent question is, did they escape?

Or are they still being pursued?"

 

"Ahead of you there, partner," Simeon replied, feel-

ing slightly smug that he had anticipated her. "I can't

detect anything coming in on the same vector." He

heaved an audible sigh of relief that coincided with

hers. "Or ... no, they were blind. The pursuit could

have dropped off long ago, and they wouldn't have

had any way to tell. But we'd better establish who and

why. If, and it's a big if, there's anyone alive in there

now to tell us the facts. I'm not inclined to be charitable.

For all we know, they could be pirates or hijackers, and

they were running from Central Worlds* naval pursuit.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

89

 

Either way, they came within centimeters of smashing

us to a smithereen."

 

"Smithereens," Channa said thoughtfully, "because

it's fragments they are and they have to be plural to be

dangerous. I rather discount their being illegals. Some-

thing real deadly mustjjiave pushed them to run in a

craft that unspacewbrthy. Something that came to their

planet suddenly. Why else wouldn't they take the time

to cut away that mass dinging to the ship? Maybe their

sun went nova. Anyway," she said briskly, "if there are

people on board, they're in bad shape and what have

you been doing to rescue and/or apprehend them?"

 

"Ahem, Channa-mine. You're the mobile half of this

partnership. Remember? So go be brawn for me. And

be careful!*1

 

Channa paused. "Ah, yes, so I am. Thank you for

reminding me of that!" Her tone was brightly britde.

"Somehow this wasn't the sort of duty I thought came

along with this assignment.''

 

"Well, it has!" he said, making his voice lilt. "Hate to

have caused you to get into that clumsy suit for no

reason at all."

 

She lifted her helmet.

 

"Thatta girl!" Simeon said rather patronizingly. She

ignored him. "Oh, and Channa?"

"What?"

"Before you lock your helmet, do switch on your

 

implant"

 

"Ah!" She couched the switch grounded in bone just

behind her ear, the contact responding only to her

individual bio-energy. "Are you receiving?"

 

"Check,"

 

"Can I go now?" she said rather patronizingly.

 

"Check."

 

"And mate, Simy baby."

 

"Got it," Joat muttered to herself as she rescued the

 

90

 

Anne McCaffrvy 6f SM. Stirling

 

computer from the shadowed ledge and turned it on,

fingers clumsy in the space suit gloves. Joat had

become well-acquainted with the station's drills but,

with survival skills as finely honed as hers were, she had

put the suit on when the klaxon sounded Red Alert

Besides, she'd had a chance to time just how fast she

could get into the flippin' thing.

 

"Wow!" was her reaction to the activity the computer

duly reported. "Fardling A wow!" Hie system was taking

in some heavy data, converting it and feeding it to Simeon

the way it transferred data from the pickups, though

never in this density or complexity. "Heavy read!"

 

Joat did her best to follow, but the speed was too

much. Then, "Got it." Now the main computer was also

encoding it for her little friend. She fiddled to get a

finer tuning, get rid of the drivel, giving her the visual

and aural stuff. She reared back in surprise, hitting her

head on the metal bulkhead but ignoring the pain as

she realized what she now had.

 

Hey, this is from Channa. Strange, heavy strange Ñ Tm

getting what she's seeing. She must have an implant to input

directly to Simeon like Mis. And what Channa was seeing

made Joat feel a little more charitable towards her.

Channa wasn't squishstuff, her private term for

organic tissue.

 

"Beats hacking in to the holo system any day," Joat

muttered, eyes glued to the miniature screen. She

squirmed into a more comfortable position, plopped

down a purloined pillow so she wouldn't slam her head

again, braced her feet against the roof of the duct,

plugged the earphone into the helmet outlet, and

absorbed the action.

 

"Real-time adventure holo!" Perfect, apart from a

wavering line down one side of the picture-cube that

must represent breathing and life-signs and stuff "Go,

Channa, go!"

 

CJtAFTERSIX

 

Station-born and bred, Channa had gone space-

walking as soon as she was old enough to fit into a

juvenile suit. But there the difference between her

Hawking Alpha Proxima Station days and now ended.

 

Theoretically, she knew that SSS-900-C was at the

edge of the Shiva Nebula. Trade routes crossed here,

carrying processed ores essential for drive-core

manufacture. As the ship which had brought her had

approached the dumbbell-shaped station, she'd

watched the process on her cabin's screen with great

interest. But theory, and that shipboard view in com-

plete safety, had not prepared her for the great arc of

pearly mist that filled her vision plate; mist glowing

with scores of proto-suns in a score of colors.

 

"Spectacular, ain't it?" Patsy asked.

 

Channa came to herself with a start "What are^ow

doing out here?"

 

"This tug's my emergency station," she said, grin-

ning broadly inside her bubble helmet "The algae'U

keep right on breedin' for a while without me, randy

little bastards. An' I'm a right good tug pilot, too."

 

"Believe you, ma'am," Channa said, throwing a

salute from her bubbled temple. What's Simeon on

about1* He's got a fleet Ñ of sortsÑtocommand. "Let'sgo."

 

In turn, they slid down into the cramped cabin of the

tug and plugged suit feeds into the ship system. The

tugs were stripped-down little vessels, just a

powerplant and drive with minimal controls; wedge-

shaped, with grapnel fields and an inflatable habitat for

 

92

 

Arme McCaffny fc? SM Stirling

 

taking survivors in their dual role as rescue vessels.

The docking bay and the cabin itself were open to

vacuum, but she felt a low whining as Patsy brought

the drive up and lifted them out. ijiere was the usual

disorienting lurch as they passed out of station gravity.

Now the only weight was acceleration, and the barbell

shape of the station was a huge bulk below them instead

of behind. Her senses tried to tell her she was climbing

vertically in a gravity field, then yielded to training as

she made herself ignore up and down for the omni-

directional outlook that was most useful in space.

 

"Vectoring in," Patsy said into her helmet mike.

 

Other tugs were drifting motes of light, fireflies

against the blackness. The analogy remained in force

as they circled the drifting hulk of the intruder; it was

big. Forward was a frayed mass of tendrils, and the rear

still glowed red-white, heat slow to radiate in vacuum.

 

"Readings?" Channa asked. Her nose itched; it

always did when she had a helmet on.

 

Simeon's voice answered her. "Main power system

went out when they burned their drive," he said. "Be

careful about that, by the way Ñ it's radiating gamma,

real museum piece. Main internal gravity field's down.

There are localized auxiliary systems still operating

amidships, and traces of water vapor and atmosphere.

There might be a chamber in there still running life-

support"

 

Channa scanned the bridge section of the ship again.

The instruments available in the cockpit of the tug

were basically little more than sophisticated motion

detectors.

 

"I can't get a thing," she said in frustration. "Am I

missing something?"

 

"Not much," Simeon told her. "There's too much

dirt out there, which'U confuse readings. See if you can

get aboard."

 

'Right," she said, and looked down the hull toward

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT     93

 

the equator where the shuttle bays should be located.

"Bring us in there, Patsy."

 

Channa flicked an indicator light on the hull. They

sank gradually, until the ancient ship filled half the sky.

 

"Don't build 'em like this anymore," Patsy said as they

beheld shuttle bay doorsVhich were easily two hundred

meters long, big enough to accommodate a small liner.

 

"They don't havejto," Channa answered absently.

Drive cores were a lot cheaper and safer nowadays,

which made ships this size obsolete. "Somebody did wA

hke them."

 

This close in, the scars on the hull were enormous,

metal heated to melting with a slagged look around the

edges of the cuts, but miraculously there didn't seem to

be much structural damage as they swung further into

the bay.

 

"They have to be alive," Channa murmured. "Noth-

ing could kill people this lucky."

 

"Except running out of luck," Simeon said grimly.

 

"There is that." She came at last to a smaller shuttle

bay and attempted to open the portal with several

standard call codes. "Simeon, what does the library

suggest we use for a ship this old? I'm not getting any

response with the usual ones."

 

"Three one seven, three one seven five?"

 

"Tried it, nothing."

 

Simeon relayed several more codes.

 

"Nothing's working," she said in disgust. "Could

they have locked them?"

 

"Hard to say until we're sure they're crazy or not.

Try another bay. That one might just be inoperative."

 

She had Patsy fly out and down the massive ship's

side until they came to another shuttle bay. It, too,

refused her admittance.

 

"This is ridiculous," she said in exasperation. "They

got in, so there has to be an operable entrance!"

 

"Considering the visible damage, maybe you'd have

 

94    Antu McCaffrty fc? SM. Stirling

 

more luck with a service hatch. There're close to a

hundred of them and only six shuttle bays. Try some-

thing midship."

 

"That's a good idea," she said, feeling more optimis-

tic with such odds. *Just in case, what do we use for a

can opener? We don't want any survivors dead of old

age before we reach them."

 

The very first hatch they tried opened, about half a

meter. Channa looked at it, Simeon looked at it

through her eyes via the implant which connected

directly to her optic nerve.

 

"You're not that big, but you're also not that small,"

he said with a wistful note.

 

"I'm putting us down," Patsy said. "Contact" A feint

dunk came through the metal of the tug as the fields

gripped the big hull.

 

"And I'm going to try and effect entry. I think it's

wide enough." Channa told Simeon.

 

"Just you be very careful, Channa-mine..."

 

"For Ghu's sake, Simeon, I've been space-walking

since I was five. I'm a stickfoot"

 

"Yeah, but I don't think your station ever experienced

a hostile attack. And there's all that flying junk! Could

knock you right off the hull... or smear you across it"

 

"You do know how to give a girl confidence. I'm

going, Simeon, and that's that." She muttered to her-

self about titanium twits and agoraphobic asses as she

prepared to leave the tug. Patsy Sue at least gave her a

cheerful grin and a thumbs-up. "We need to know

what or who's in there."

 

"No problem," Patsy cut in, reaching into the tool-

box under the pilot's seat. Her hand came out with the

ugly black shape of an arc pistol.

 

Channa looked around, her jaw dropped. "Aren't

those illegal?"

 

Patsy waggled the pronged muzzle. "Not on

Larabie, they ain't"

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

95

 

Channa shook her head, then picked up where

she'd left off. "You know, Simeon, they do give us

brawns training. I've done search-and-rescue before."

 

"How often?""

 

"Once. My inexperience will only make me more

cautious. J can-do thisj£imeon. Once I'm inside maybe

I can do something to widen the hatch opening. Direct

some of the other tugs this way so I'll have reinforce-

ments nearby, if I need them."

 

Patsy waggled the arc pistol, apparendy accustomed

to the weight of the weapon.

 

"Assuming it's needed," Channa added cheerfully.

"Have you got any positive life readings, partner?" she

asked as she eased herself with practised care out of the

tug. With one hand on a hull bracket, she let herself

drift to the hull where the stickfield of her boots held

her safely.

 

"According to my sensors, nobody's conscious. But

there imgfa be Ñ"

 

"Stop being so reassuring," she said facetiously.

"Have you got a medical team ready?"

 

"We were just getting to know each other," he said

regretfully.

 

Channa paused, caught by the emotion in his voice.

"You are the most manipulative creature it has ever

been my misfortune to meet," she said coldly, dipping a

reel of optical fiber to her suit. Simeon sighed. "Look,

I'm not a total idiot The tug will shield me on one side,

and I'm only two strides away from the hatch."

 

"Me? Manipulative? I'm supposed to keep my brawn

from risking its fluffy little tail."

 

Carefully breaking boot contact, she took the first

step to the hatch, and the second. Then clipped both

feet free and floated neady to the opening to examine it

more closely. The magnetic grapple built into the left

forearm of her suit twitched, with a feeling like a light

push. The contact disk flicked out, trailing braided

 

96

 

Amu McCaffrey £# SM. S&rixng

 

monofilament, and impacted on the door of the bay.

She activated the switch that reeled her in. Patsy fol-

lowed with an expert somersault leap that landed her

less than an arm's length from her friend.

 

"Showoff," Channa said.

 

"You ain't the only one with walk experience," Patsy

said. Her voice was light, but the arc pistol was ready as

she peered within the half-open hatch.""Coburn to res-

cue squad. We're about to enter the Hulk. Stand by."

 

Channa licked dry lips. It's the suit air, she told herself

firmly. Always too dry. She spoke aloud to Simeon.

"You're just jealous of me, Bellona Rockjaw, heroine of

the space frontier."

 

"I'm right there with you, Channa," Simeon said

with a trace of wistfulness in his voice.

 

"Hmmph."

 

She struggled to get through the narrow opening,

grunting with effort.

 

"Do not get stuck," he advised her.

 

Channa started to giggle. "Do not make me laugh,"

she admonished. "And stop reading my mind."

 

With the unpleasant sensation of metal and plastic

scraping against each other, she pushed through at last.

The chamber had held maintenance equipment of some

sort long ago; there were feeds and racks for EVA suits,

and empty toolholders. Only a single strip lit the dim in-

terior. On the hullside wall was a massive, clumsy-looking

airlock, and a blinking row of readouts beside it

 

"Some systems still active," she said. "Patsy, prop

yourself against the frame and see if you can't push the

hatch door open."

 

"Nevah get through iffen I doan," the older woman

muttered. "Makes me wish I were fiat-chested, too."

 

"She is not," Simeon replied vehemently.

 

Channa grinned, but Patsy Sue was busy getting her-

self into position in the hatchway, attaching her filament

to the inside of the hatch before she grabbed the top of

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

97

 

the frame with both hands and gave a mighty heave. The

hatch did not so much as budge a millimeter.

 

"No, it's jammed tighter'n... nemmind. You got a

polarizin' faceplate?" Patsy asked.

 

"Standard."

 

"Okay. I'll try sometnifa' subtle."

 

Coburn stepped t&ck, raised the arc pistol and fired

four times. The bar_oT actinic blue-white light was

soundless in vacuum, but a fog of metal particles

exploded outward like glittering donuts centered on

the aiming points. Patsy nodded in satisfaction and

twisted herself around to brace her feet on the hatch

and grip two handhold loops on the hull nearby.

Channa could hear her give a grunt of effort, and the

hatchway flipped out into space, tumbling end-over-

end.

 

"Nice brand of subtle you wield," Channa said.

 

"Think nothin' of it," Patsy said, pretending to blow

smoke off the arc pistol's barrel. "Any luck?"

 

Channa bent over the touchpad beside the airlock.

"Not much. Ah, that's got it. Simeon, how's the trans-

mission holding up?"

 

"Loud and dear, since Patsy got the door out of the

way. I may lose Patsy's signal further inside. Maybe you

should wait? There're four more tugs dosing in on

your position."

 

Channa ignored the pleading note, not without a

pang of guilt But what the hell, the situation is irresistible,

she admitted. She had been trained as an

admiriistrator-paitner-troubleshooter, but most of the

time, circumstances were fairly conventional. Not

boring; she wouldn't have made it through brawn

training if she were bored with it. On the other hand,

she wouldn't have been picked if there weren't an ele-

ment of the adventurer in her psychological profile.

 

"String this, would you, Patsy?" she said, passing

over the reel. The optical fiber was encased in woven

 

98

 

Anne McCaffny fc? SM. Stirling

 

tungsten-filament, with receptor-booster chips at

intervals. Barely thicker than thread, it had a breaking

strain of several tons. Tacked to the wall behind them,

neither her implants nor Patsy's suit communits could

fade out Patsy welded the outer encj to the hull beside

the hatch, using the spot heater in her construction

suit's gauntlet,

 

"Ready?" Channa said, taking a deep breath.

 

"Surely am." Patsy came up behind her, arc pistol

ready.

 

"Standing by," Simeon said.

 

The keypad lights blinked green and amber. "I think

it's saying there's some doubt about the atmosphere,"

Channa said. "It's definitely pressurized in there." She

attached a sensor line to the surface.

 

"They're in trouble," Simeon said. "Hear that whin-

ing?" Channa shook her head, and felt him boost the

audio pickups of her helmet. A feint tooth-grating

sound came through.

 

"What is that?"

 

"That's the main internal drive cores," Simeon

replied grimly. "The powerplant's down, but they're

still superconducting. The alloys they used back then

were tough. They built 'em more redundant then,

too."

 

"Which means?"

 

"Which means ... to stop this thing, the pilot put

everything the powerplant had into the drive. The

exterior coils blew before it could go all out. Now the

internal coil's going to go."

 

"Bad news," Patsy said.

 

"It's going to blow?" Channa asked apprehensively.

The energies needed to move megatons between stars

were immense.

 

Simeon listened. "Not/urf yet, but soon. Building,

but the noise will be considerably more audible before

I'd panic. Get that inner hatch open, woman! I'll send

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

99

 

the troops. You've got about thirty minutes before you

have to be off."

 

The interior airlock slid open. The two women kept

their helmets firmly ori as it slid down again and the air

hissed in. Channa locjked down at the readouts on her

sleeve and punched foranalysis.

 

"Oxygen's down, COg's way up," she said grimly.

"Necrotic ketofaes, or so it says Ñ decay products. I'd hate

to have to breathe this stuff. Could anyone breath it and

live?"

 

"Depends oh natural tolerances," Patsy replied.

"And it might not be bad further in." Being an environ-

mental maintenance specialist, she knew the

parameters. "From the volume of n.k.'s, their scrub-

bers must have been down for a while."

 

The inner hatch of the airlock slid open. Now that

they were no longer in a soundless vacuum, the

exterior pickups of their suits relayed the hiss. Unfor-

tunately, a high-pitched whine was now equally

audible: the kind that made the hair on your arms lift

up. Channa looked down the long corridor, shabby

with age and dim with the emergency glowstrips'

ghostly blue light.

 

Flies buzzed around them. Patsy slapped one against

the wall.

 

"Blowflies," she said after a good look. There was a

feint quaver in her voice. "Had 'em on the ranch."

 

"Sound pickup says there are live ones down there,"

Channa said. "Let's go."

 

Doctor Chaundra's hands flew over his keypad as he

made notes. He was a smallish brown-skinned man

with delicate bones and a precise, scholarly manner.

 

"Fifty maximum, you say?"

 

Simeon switched back to the implant data filling

another part of his consciousness. Channa's breathing

sounded ragged; her heartbeat was elevated, and the

 

100

 

Amu McCaffrey 6? SM. Stating

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

101

 

stomach-acid level indicated suppressed nausea.

Simeon wasn't surprised. The things she was seeing

made Aim feel a little sick in an entirely nonphysical way

that was still highly unpleasant.

 

"Short-term, improvised attempt at coldsleep," she

said, voice struggling for the objectivity of a report. He

looked at the tangle of cobbled-together equipment

around living and dead. "Probably*to cut down on air

consumption. Heavy equipment failures."

 

The latest chamber held mostly dead ones, eyes fal-

len in and dried lips shrunk back over grinning teeth.

Maggots, too. Some of the corpses were children, dead

children nestled against dead mothers. In a few, the

maggots gave a ghastly semblance of life, moving the

swollen, blackened limbs. About the only mercy was

the elastic nets that held living and dead down to the

pallets on the deck or to the bunks. Evidently someone

had foreseen that the interior gravity fields might go.

Simeon imagined walking into one of those chambers

and finding die putrefying bodies floating loose....

 

"This one Ñ" Channa began, swallowing and bend-

ing over a body that was either still alive or only

recendy dead. Drifting maggots brushed the surface of

her faceplate and clung wedy, writhing. She retched,

then forced herself to brush them away.

 

A chuwngggg sound echoed through the still air.

"What was that?"

 

Simeon split his viewpoint yet again. TTie rescue ship

hovering off the side of the hulk had launched a missile

carrying a large-diameter hose and attached to a

pumping system: a force-deck system which punched

through the hull and sealed itself.

 

<4Airharpoon,"hesaid. "WeTlbepumpinginasecond."

 

"I kin hear it," Patsy said from the corridor. Her arc

gun crashed, opening a sealed door. "More in heah.

*Bout the same."

 

"With fifty living, we should have no trouble," the

 

doctor was saying to Simeon in the safe, clean sickbay

office. Chaundra tapped for a closeup on one of the

recordings, looking at the life-signs readouts beside the

wasted face of a refugee. "Coldsleep dosed, the old par-

tial method; very^ unsafe dosage, and oxygen

deprivation. Dehydration, starvation, but mostly

inadequate air. Hmm."

 

He blinked. "Physical type? Sometimes there is

genetic divergence on isolated colonies. I must check.

These look to be of sudeuropan race Ñ archaic type,

very pure.. We should evacuate them as soon as

possible."

 

"I'm working on it," Simeon said with controlled

passion, fm never going to look at battlefield reconstructions

quite the same way again, he thought

 

Through Channa's ears, he heard feet clacking in

the corridor outside, stickfields in the suit shoes sub-

stituting for gravity. The volunteers came in briskly

enough, inflatable rescue bubbles in their hands, then

halted in disbelief One tried to control his retching for

a moment and then went into an excruciating and

dangerous fit of vomiting inside a closed helmet. His

squadmates removed it, only to have his paroxysm

grow worse as the stink hit his nostrils. The luckless

volunteer went into the first of the bubbles.

 

"Get moving!" Channa ordered. Only Simeon could

hear the tremors in her voice beyond the range of nor-

mal ears. "The living ones are marked with a slash of

yellow from a cargo checker. Use plasma feeds, the

emergency antidotes, and get them out of here. These

people belong in regeneration. Now."

 

Raggedly, then with gathering speed, the stationers

moved to their work. Channa escaped back into the

corridor, exhaling a breath she had not been conscious

of holding. Simeon was profoundly thankful she had

not tried cracking her suit seals when the air hose went

in. It would take months of vacuum to get the stink out

 

i

 

102

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating

 

of this ship. Much more time than the vessel had. The

final fire of the interior coils would at least cleanse it

 

"How long?" she asked.

 

"Not less than an hour, not mc-re than three," he

replied. "I think the pirate hypothesis is out."

 

Channa nodded jerkily; too many families and

children. Pirates were much more common in fiction

than in feet, anyway. Bodies floated in the next cham-

ber down, and medics working over the three living

before transferring them to life bubbles.

 

"Ms. Hap, I'm !Tez Kle." The Sondee worea medical

assistant's arm-flash on his suit.

 

Channa glanced at him in surprise. Not many aliens

chose Co specialize in Terran medicine. Of course, Son-

dee were rather humanoid, if you managed to ignore the

four eyes Ñ two large and golden about where eyes

should be, and two more above the whorled ridges that

served as ears; you could not sneak up on a Sondee Ñ

and the lack of any facial features apart from a nostril slit

and round suckerlike mouth. They had lovely voices,

with far more vocal range and control than a human.

 

She came up beside the bubbles. "You're in charge?"

He nodded. "Let me give you a hand," she said.

 

The first figure she turned to had reddish-black hair,

a short muscular man with a square face. She released

his restraints and lifted him, then gave him a gende

shove into the body-length sack, sealed it and activated

it. His color seemed to improve immediately. She

turned to his companion and froze.

 

"Channa, your vital signs just did the strangest little

jig. What's the problem?" Simeon asked.

 

This young man was tall, dose to two meters, broad-

shouldered and slim-hipped, shapely and muscular as

an athlete. He had a clean, classically perfect profile,

with firmly molded chin and sensitive mouth. His deli-

cately curving cheekbones were brushed by long dark

lashes, the corners of his eyes tilted upwards. His long

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

103

 

hair was blue-black, curling back from his high intel-

ligent forehead to fell almost to his shoulders.

 

Channa sighed in admiration, then caught herself.

This stud is so handsome even being sick makes him look good.

 

"Oh ho," Simeon crowed. "Very nice, Channa, but if

you don't put AHorys there in his sack, he's going to go

a very unflattering shade of blue."

 

"Em ... right" She unbuckled the man and sealed

him in his sack, connecting the two bags together. Then

she tugged them behind her to the lock where she

turned diem over to the waiting med-techs. The goods-

transporter's hold was filled with floating, jostling sacks

while Channa and the med-tech chief stood in the lock,

checking their sensors for heart-beats.

 

"Guess we got them all," !Tez Kle said. "But I don't

think we can save them all. We left those we were cer-

tain we couldn't help," he said apologetically.

 

"Nothing else you could do," Channa told him. "We

don't have time for anything else. Go," she said, and

slapped his shoulder, "I've got a tug outside." She

sealed the end of the caterpillar lock behind him and

waited impatiently for the pilot to retract it "Damn, I

wish we could have gotten to the bridge."

 

"You and Patsy give it a try," Simeon answered.

"Every bit of data wUl help, but we're cutting it a little

close. I'm positioning tugs to push that wreck away

from the station and soon"

 

Channa looked up sharply. "It's still a danger to you?"

 

"Nothing this brain can't handle," Simeon said

blithely. "You do what you can, brawn."

 

She looked down at the notescreen tethered at her

waist, studying the map of the ship's interior which she

had managed to acquire from its own data banks,

archaic as they were.

 

"I'll try through here," she said, struggling with the

toggles of the hatch. "It'dbe the more direct route, if it's

open. If it isn't, I'll rendezvous with Patsy immediately."

 

104

 

Anne McCaffrvy &? 5M. Stating

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

105

 

***

 

"I need some people for tug and detonations work,"

Simeon announced. "It's going to be dicey."

 

The assembly room beneath the-south-polar dock-

ing bay was full of second-wave volunteers, those not

needed or qualified for the emergency medical work.

Every single one stepped forward. Despite the serious-

ness of the situation, Simeon found time for a grim

internal smile. That old line's worked its challenge since GO-

gamesh, he thought, proving that even the oldest books

on military psychology were right. People were very

reluctant to appear frightened in front of others, espe-

cially their friends. He called the roll of those he

needed. They were already suited up, helmets under

their arms. Gus, of course, and six of the more

experienced tug pilots, with six of the mining

explosives experts who had been taking R & R on the

SSS. "Thank you and I thank all the rest of you, too."

 

As soon as the room emptied of all but the par-

ticipants, he began the briefing with the truth.

 

"That ship is going to blow. The engines, by the

sound of them, are critically unbalanced, redlining far

off scale. We've got the survivors off her. But we've got

to get her far enough from the station so that when she

goes, she won't take us with her. That's not the only

problem. We've got to be sure she'll break into the

smallest possible fragments and that they are thrown in

a favorable dispersal pattern."

 

The explosives men grinned at each other. "Easiest

thing in the workl, Simeon," their spokesman said with

a rakish smile. "If you know what you're doing."

 

"We do," one of the others said, thumping the

spokesman jovially on the back. The man didn't so

much as rock on his toes.

 

"That's good to know, guys! Can you tug pilots

match their skill by redlining your engines a little to

putt her as far away from us as you can?"

 

i

 

"Hell, Simeon," Gus said, "you oughta know we'd

have no trouble doing that little thing for you."

 

Til be monitqring and should be able to give you

fair warning to get yburselves clear." He paused a

moment, anxious despite their obvious disregard for

the inherent danger^. "Have 1 made the situation

clear?"

 

Gus grinned. "Couldn't be clearer, station man," he

said, giving his broad shoulders a preparatory twitch in

response to the challenge. "And we don't have much

time for further chatter!"

 

Another voice broke in: Patsy's. Simeon keyed her

visual transmission to one of the ready-room screens;

she was back in the control seat of her tug.

 

"My, ain't the machismo level high around here? You

got one tug already in place, Simeon Ñ mine. Count

me in, too."

 

Gus winced. "Look, Patsy, we're in very deep, ah Ñ"

 

"Very deep shit," she finished, grinning at him. "Ah

know the words, Gus."

 

Everybody laughed. Simeon looked them over and

stifled a wave of bitter longing. A military commander of

any stature led his troops from the front, not from an

impervious titanium column. Don't worry, if they fail you'll be

the only one left to say what happened, thanks to thai sametitanium

column. Ifyoucan buewithyowconseience, thatis.

 

"I'll keep my eye on the coils and give you enough

warning to peel oS," Simeon promised.

 

Almost simultaneously, helmets covered the faces of

this small band of heroes.

 

"This is taking more time than it's worth," Channa

said in disgust, giving the control panel a final thump

with her fist. The door valved open,

 

"Damn! And I thought that was a station legend,"

she said. "Does it work for you, Simeon?"

 

"Having a servo whack me with a wrench to make

 

106

 

Arme McCaffrty & SM. Stating

 

me work properly?" he asked. "No, not often. The

bridge ought to be right down there. And hurry"

 

"How are we handling the demolition?" she asked

him, stepping through the half-open door and trotting

down the darkened way, her helmet light fanning

ahead. Mercifully, no bodies floated about this section.

 

"I've got a team rigging explosives all around the

ship to blow it to," he paused, his own nerves making

him play the down, "smithereens. Real, genuine, non-

station piercing smithereens. It would be disgraceful,

utterly disgraceful, to get holed by flying debris after

surviving this morning, don't you think? Ah, the tug

volunteers are in place, ready to grapple. Ah! They've

broken her out of orbital inertia."

 

Movement was not obvious this far in the bowels

of the dying ship. "Who's in charge of the team?"

Channa asked.

 

"Gus."

 

"Patsy said he was a good pilot," Channa com-

mented. "Soon as I finish here, I'll join her. Is she still

standing by at the hatch?"

 

"She is, to pick you up and bring you straight back to

the station with any information you discover."

 

"I can scan the info back to you, Sim-mate, but first I

have to find it, you know.1* She stumbled over some

jumble piled in the corridor and recovered herself.

 

"You and Patsy getsfra^jAi back here. I can't have my

brawn risking her neck when..."

 

"Simeon," she said reasonably, "brawns are supposed

to risk their necks far their brains. And if you, the station,

are at risk, / am required to reduce that risk any way pos-

sible. This time I can do it by helping tug the risk away

from here. Have I made myself clear on this point?"

 

"I don't like it," Simeon said in a disgruntled

mumble. "Foolish risk."

 

"Thank you for your input, but Simeon..."

 

"Yeah?"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

107

 

"Don't you ever try to forbid me to do the job I'm

here to do. You got that?"

 

"Right in the forehead, sweetheart"

 

"Not quite where I was aiming, but it'll do," Channa

 

said.

 

"If you get thronghte the bridge of that ship, can I

ask you for a download?" Simeon said plaintively.

 

"Why else1 am I penetrating this about-to-blow-up

wreck?" Channa said. "Patsy, you read me?"

 

"Welcome to the pahty, Channa," came Patsy's

cheerful wice.

 

"You don't mind my crashing?"

 

Patsy laughed. "Watch yoah choice of words, girl."

 

"I just noticed something," Channa said, slowing her

pace.

 

"What?"

 

"Paper. What's all tiuspaper doing around?" There

were sheets of it drifting down the corridor and sticking

with static attraction to the rubbery walls.

 

"This lumbering hulk must be filled with gear so

ancient it's exotic," Simeon said.

 

"Paper storage?" she said dubiously.

 

"Maybe they regressed."

 

"Could it originally have been piloted by a shellperson?"

Channa asked, suddenly jumping to some conclusions

mat ought to have been more obvious to both herself and

Simeon. Ifshegottheedgeonhimonthisone...

 

"Highly unlikely," Simeon said patronizingly. "B & B

ships weren't that common then. All of these little back-

of-beyond colonies were literally a shot in the dark, too

risky to expend us on. C'mon, forward is to your right,

one more passage to reach that control room."

 

"Aye, sir," she said. She worked her way forward,

past leaking pipes and the occasionally sparking con-

trol boxes, ruptured by the overloads of the

catastrophic deceleration.

 

108

 

AnruMcCaffrey & SM. Stirting

 

"Paper," Channa said in wonder, wishing she could

touch the valuable substance with her bare hands.

 

"And books! At least I think that's what I saw when

you glanced into that corner. Nor further right. Yes!

Books!"

 

"No time for browsing now," Channa said firmly.

 

"Right," he said. "Antiquarian refjex, sorry."

 

"Ah, I am now at the control room," she said.

 

It was large and circular; most of the consoles were

under shrink-shrouds of plastic that looked rigid with

age. Raw, hasty jury-rigs had restored a few panels to

functionality. She had to duck under festoons of cable

which were draped to and fro with no noticeable pat-

tern. In the dimming light, she saw jury-rigged control

boxes taped to consoles. The whole bridge seemed to

have been reconstructed with mad abandon.

 

"Ghu! They flew this thing?" Simeon exclaimed.

They must have been crazy, he thought and cocked a

weather-ear to the sound from the engine. "The log,"

Simeon reminded her. "Though I'm inclined to doubt

that this outfit has anything that fancy. Strip the data

bank, too. We want any information we can get,"

 

"You tell me how to retrieve information from this

archaic mess and you've got it," she answered, peering

from workstation to workstation, trying to figure which

one might access the main banks.

 

"I've got to go a long way back in my own files to find

something comparable," he said. "There're only three

centuries of buggering-up to decode but... ah, try the

second console to your right. About the only one they

hadn't been trying to use."

 

She drew the information feedline out of her glove

and pressed it over the inductor surface. The screen

beside it clicked to life and began flowing with a

spaghetti-complex web of symbols.

 

"Oh, my oh my," Simeon muttered.

 

"Problems, Sim?"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

109

 

"Nothing oT Simeon can't handle," he said. "But the

code is old. I don't have anything that esoteric on file.

Nothing I can't eventually decipher."

 

"Don't let your modesty run away with you," she

muttered, looking down at her wrist chrono. Plenty of

time, she thought ITwpe?

 

"I'm just cracking the interface and downloading it

to decode at leisure," Simeon replied. "Don't get your

tits in a tizzy."

 

"What did you say?",

 

"Old slang," he replied blandly.

 

"Another antiquarian reflex, no doubt," she said archly.

 

"Touched Okay, got it," he said, "Get out of there."

 

"Gawd-dawm this thing!" Patsy said in frustration.

 

The tug was presenting its broad rear surface to the

ancient colony ship. Channa scanned carefully on

visual and deep-magnetic, looking for a place to

engage their grapple.

 

"Time is a factor here, Ms. Hap." Gus's voice was a

little testy. Aligning an extra tug in the pattern had

taken more time than anticipated.

 

"I just got up here, Mr. Gusky. I'm looking for a flat

spot among these struts. I can see why you gave it a

pass. It's a mess. Wait, I think I see something now,

it's..." She looked again and increased the magnifica-

tion. "Bloody helir she cried.

 

"Crap!" Simeon's voice overrode hers. It took the

others a few moments longer.

 

"I don't believe it," Channa whispered.

 

"What?" Patsy demanded. "What do you see?"

 

"It's a shell. There's a shellperson out there,

strapped to the hull."

 

"Are you sure?" Gus* voice cut in. "Look, everyone

else is in place, we have to get this thing away from the

stationÑ"

 

Simeon ordered in a roar that nearly fractured

 

110

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stilling

 

eardrums. "BELAY THAT, GUSKY!" A moment of

stunned silence followed. "Check it out, Channa. Now!"

 

"Aye, aye, sir," Channa said even as she strobed a

landing spot where Patsy could set the tug down. "Yes,

Mr. Gusky, it's a shellperson all .right. Granted, it

doesn't look like anything you're likely to have seen,

but brawns learn to recognize *em.a)L"

 

She hoped Simeon never had occasion to bellow like

that again, with the decibels going off the gauge.

Understandable, of course, or at least to her. If brains

had a collective nightmare, it was being cut off from

their equipment and left helpless. Attached to their

leads and machinery, a shellperson was the next thing

to immortal, a high-tech demigod in this world. Cut off

from it, they were cripples. Spam-in-a-can, as the

obscene joke had it. Neither Simeon nor she were

capable of abandoning a shellperson, even if its

occupant should prove dead.

 

"Gus, why don't you set the haul in motion," Channa

said, knowing her priorities had just shifted. "Patsy and

I will get this shellperson off."

 

She anchored the grapple just above the shell and as

quickly as possible, reeled the tug to it. She studied the

shell in the monitor as she drew closer. "It's inward

feeing, they did that right at least."

 

"Fardlingr^fo?" Simeon cursed. "Did it right? There

is nothing right about this. What kind of shit-for-brains

did this? That shellperson was lodged on the exterior of

the huU\ Anything could have happened to him or her!

Bastards, bastards, bastards. Get him out of there!"

 

Channa heard the cold passion in Simeon's voice

and recognized another aspect of him, one his often

diffident manner and sometimes boyish enthusiasms

had masked. Shellpeople were as individual as nor-

mals. Why had she thought him shallow, even trivial?

Because of his fascination with ancient wars and

weaponry?

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

111

 

"I'm on my way, Simeon," she said. "Gusky, step on

it. We'll get out of your way. This won't take long."

 

"It had better not," the ex-Navy man said, his voice

still carrying a trace of resentment. "Wilco. Out"

 

The surge of acceleration was feint but definite as the

bulky vessel began-to idt>ve. Channa locked a safety line

to her suit before s$ie swung down to the pitted, cor-

roded surface of the_hull and began to thread her way

through the crazed jungle of beam-fused girders that

covered it like fungus. The light had the absolute

white-and-shadow of space, but the froth where

vaporized metal had recondensed looked out of place.

 

Tm too used to things being new and functional, she told

herself at a level below the machine-efficient move-

ments of hands and feet. Fear coiled at a deeper level

still, shouting that she was risking two living humans

for a shellperson who could have died long ago. Brawn

training overrode that trickle of fear almost before she

noticed. A shellperson could not be left, not while a

brawn could remove him.

 

"Is the brain alraht?" Patsy asked.

 

"Can't tell yet," Channa told her. Off to her left a white

light flashed and the metal toned beneath her feet-

 

"What was that?" she half-squawked.

 

"Iron ore," Gus said. "She's moving into the disper-

sal cone of that load of balled ore. There's a lot of that

crap out here. Hurry."

 

fm hurrying, Tm hurrying, Channa thought. The shell

was a shape like a metal egg split down the middle, with

a tangle of feed lines and telemetry jacked into opened

access panels. Three more winks of light as ore struck

at hundreds of kps further down the derelict's hull,

then a whole cluster. Debris flipped away into space

with leisurely grace.

 

"Channa..." Simeon began. Tne rage was out of his

voice, replaced by fear for her. Somehow that wanned

Channa despite the cold clamp she'd put on her feelings.

 

112

 

Anne McCaffny &? SM. Stilting

 

"Can't be helped," she said and planted her own

grapple at the top of the shell, just beside the lugs.

 

"It's a different design from mine," Simeon told her.

"I'm doing a search now to see where you can put a

heavy magnet without interrupting anything vital."

 

"Fine," she said distractedly. "Looks like they just

took a dozen loops of wire cable and tack-welded it to

hold the shell down. Talk about improvisation!"

 

Simeon watched her hands as she used a small laser

to cut through one of the cables lashing the capsule to

the hull. It broke free and the shell fell away from the

hull slightly, fine wires floating like roots in a glass of

water. God, it looks so naked, he thought helplessly.

 

Channa's gaze had passed over the code name

incised on the shell so he could read it. PMG-266-S, a

low number brain of very advanced years. Guiyon. The

name floated up out of deep storage where all the

names of his kind rested. A managerial sort. Working

for the Colonial Department as it was, back then. Paid

off his contract and dropped out of touch, presumed

rogue. A hermit

 

"He's a two-hundred series," he told her. "Now put

the grapple dead center, upper side."

 

Channa used a remote control device to lower one of

the smaller grapples from the tug, gingerly placing it as

directed. Then she returned to cutting cables. She was

working on the next to last one when a pebble-sized

piece of ore struck the back of her helmet, hard

enough to knock her sideways and to burn straight

through her air regulator from left to right. Simeon

saw specks of plastic spin off in the wake of the tiny

meteor. The exterior view from the tug's pickups

showed metal glowing white-hot.

 

"Channa!" Simeon called. The med-readouts

flashed unconsciousness. He overrode the suit and

ordered it to inject stimulants, a horse-dose, anything

to buy her time.

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

113

 

"Oww." Channa jerked and then shook herself,

hauling back on the safety line until her feet touched

the surface of the ship. A red light flashed on the inside

of her faceplate and die message:

 

"System failure Ñ atr-meulation. Ten minutes emergency

supply (m//*appearefi Irwas replaced by 10:00. Then

09:59, and the seconds scrolled down inexorably.

 

"Channa, you okay? Should Ah git down there?

 

"No!" Channa rasped. "Keep ready for lift."

 

Simeon called. "Channa, get inside."

 

"I'm almost finished," she said gruffly.

 

"Now," he said.

 

She ignored him. He watched the cable part, and

her hands reached for the last one. From another view

he watched the ancient colony ship being dragged

away at an ever increasing acceleration.

 

"Channa! Get your ass in that tug now!"

 

"ShutÑupr she snapped.

 

The final cable parted and the shell swung free. For

the first time, Simeon saw that the feeder line was

damaged. No, he thought.

 

08:38.

 

Channa began to disconnect the shell's input leads.

It was difficult work in the unwieldy suit gloves, but her

long-fingered hands moved with careful delicacy. She

dosed the valve on the broken feeder line.

 

"Might not be too bad," she muttered. "There'll be

an interior backup. Probably ruptured when they

stopped."

 

Then she keyed the remote to reel them both back Co

the tug at a careful pace, holding on to the exterior lugs

and using her feet to fend them off random projec-

tions. The shell went ter-wmnggg against the light-load

grapnels up near the apex of the stubby wedge; the

mechanical daws dosed on the hard alloy with immov-

able pressure.

 

06:58

 

114

 

Anns McCaffrey fcf SM. Stating

 

She turned and pivoted around a handhold and

dove feetfirst into the control seat.

 

"Get yo' suit plugged in!" Patsy snapped, beating

Simeon by nanoseconds.

 

"Can't This is a standard EVA s^jiit, the input valve's

upstream of the break. Get moving, we have to help

haul this thing!" :..

 

"Negative," Simeon said. "Make tracks back to the

station, Patsy."

 

"Negative on that" Channa said. "If we don't get this

hulk far enough away, there won't be a station to go

back to."

 

Patsy bit her lip and touched the controls. The tug

sprang straight up, the derelict shrinking from sky-

spanning vastness to child's model size in seconds as

the great soft hand of acceleration shoved at them.

 

"Then you plant that grapnel field," she said

urgendy. "We can help the boost with our own rise. But

when that's done, we're goin' home, girl."

 

Channa began the adjustments. The tug was

designed for straightforward long slow pulls, not this

redline-everything race against disaster. She must

balance the uneven pull that might shred the tug's

structure and compensate for the hulk's weakness by

intuition as much as anything. Who knew what struc-

tural members had given way within? It would do very

little good to rip a large segment of it loose. ... The

giant ship began to grow slightly smaller.

 

She glanced at the readout "I hate these clock things,"

she said fiercely. "They must have been created by a

sadist I'mgoingtoAnoa>whenIrunoutofair."

 

"Stop talking," Simeon ordered, "you're wasting

oxygen. When that clock has flipped over another

thirty seconds,you return to station!"

 

Gus' command rang through the conversation.

"Synchronize release, slave controls to mine as Patsy cuts

loose"

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

115

 

Channa keyed it in. "Five seconds. Mark."

 

Patsy cursed with scatological inventiveness as the lit-

tle craft surged^Then it flipped end-for-end and the

space behind them paled as the drive worked to shed

velocity. They woujd have to kill their delta-V away

from thestatioh before they could return.

 

"Priority" she barked over the open circuit "Everyone

gitouttamyway.'causelain'tstoppiri!"

 

Deceleration turned to acceleration again. Channa

wheezed a protest as her ribs clamped down on her

lungs. .

 

04:11

 

Simeon's monologue took on a frantic note. He

forced his mind not to calculate times, with an effort

that almost banished fear.

 

Keep her informed, he thought: "... madness to have

attempted that sort of linkage. The nutrients might

have given out on the trip. It depends on when the

feeder line was damaged. / might be responsible for

that It could have happened when I hit them with the

satellites. What do you think? No, don't answer, save

your air. I know we won't be able to tell anyway until we

examine him.

 

"What kind of people are these?" he asked for per-

haps the twentieth time. "Could they be pirates who

stole the brain? Then why didn't they bring it inside?

The access-way? Sure, that must be it, they couldn't get

it through the hatch. Still, a shellperson is a valuable

resource. You'd think they try to protect him more if

they had to leave him outside. It could be some kind of

punitive measure by an insane religious sect. Nah,

Central would never assign a brain to a group like that,

it wouldn't make sense." He began to curse again.

"Hey, Channa, stop rolling your eyes like that You're

making me dizzy." The circling increased in tempo.

"Okay, okay, I'll change the subject. Sheesh, take away

a woman's ability to talk..." Channa dosed her eyes. "I

 

116

 

Anne McCaflny &f 5M. Stating

 

was jotting, Channa." Her eyes remained closed.

"You're getting close to the st£tion. You're going to

need to see where you're going. Remember what it's

like out there." No change. "Okay, I apologize. It was a

stupid, ignorant remark and I regret it I didn't even

mean it Bad joke, okay?"

 

She opened her eyes.

 

03:0 2

 

She was midway between the receding colony-ship

and the station.

 

"I estimate that you'll run out of air three minutes

before you reach the station," Simeon said. "But, if you

take the most direct route, that unfortunately will take

you right through the thickest concentration of spilled

ore."

 

"Shit!" Patsy hissed. "Tellmesomethin' Ahdon'tknow!"

 

Channa fought down an oxygen wasting sigh. "Play

safe?"

 

"Then you'll fall short by four minutes, eight

seconds."

 

"Play safe. Don't want a shell full a holes."

 

Simeon was silent for a moment, feeding the pilot

instructions for avoiding the worst of the ore-meteor

cloud.

 

"You've got more guts than sense, Channa."

 

Patsy closed one eye and laughed, "Mind now, Ah

didn't say Ah didn't like it, Ah was just remarkin* on it"

She opened her eye. "Y'hold on now, we're goin'

through like a scalded armadillo."

 

Channa's breathing began to rasp; psychological,

but it wasted air.

 

Oh, God, don't let her die, he thought. That shelFs hang-

ing out then. Is the mass of the tug enough to shield him from

debris?

 

Even one pebble of ore at the right angle and all her

sacrifice would be for nothing. Simeon knew Channa

was about to undergo an experience that would feel

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

117

 

like dying- Humans could survive for several minutes

without air Ñ hours, sometimes, in cold water. The

length of time to brain death was utterly unpredictable

but oxygen deprivation might cause brain damage.

 

Despite a very real and intense anxiety about Channa,

his thoughts inexor^blyreturned to the shell... to Guiyon.

He's alone m the dark, Simeon said to himself, Channa's got

Patsy, and me: Sensory deprivation would make every

second feel like a subjective hour, and the backups would

keep the shellperson -conscious until the last precious

molecules of nutrient were gone. Simeon wished

desperately that he could spare him the nightmare.

 

"Headache," Channa gasped. "Hurts." Her head

lolled, would have fallen forward if the savage high-G

acceleration had allowed it

 

Her breathing was rasping louder now and not

psychosomatic. It was instinct Ñ the hindbrain telling

the lungs that they were suffocating. The readouts

showed an adrenaline surge, just the wrong thing.

Reflexes older than her remote reptile ancestors were

preparing the body to fight free of whatever barred it

from air.

 

"Hang on, Channa, hang on," Simeon chanted.

Then: "Can't you go any faster'?''

 

"Not 'lessn you want this here tug smeared all over

the loadin* bay," Patsy said grimly.

 

"Isn't inertia wonderful?" Gusky muttered to him-

self, looking down again at the readings, fourteen kps

and building. Not very fast, but the battered remnant of

the hulk still massed multiple kilotons.

 

"Bit of a paradox," one of the volunteer miners said. "I

want this thing as far from the station as I can get itÑbut

I want to be as for away from it as possible myself."

 

"Ho. Ho. Ho," Gusky said. "Number three, you're a

little off synch. Don't waste our delta-V."

 

"What's our safety margin, Gus?"

 

118

 

Amu McCaffrey fcf SM. Stating

 

"That depends on when Simeon tells us to cut and

run." fmivaUy, realty sorry Igotyou mad at me, Simeon! "I'd

like to get twenty k&cks from the station before we drop

the thing. But, what can I tell ya? If she blows without

warning, if the explosives don't dojwhat they're sup-

posed to, if we don't get far enough away before she

goes... actually, I don't think we haye a safety margin."

 

"Sorry I asked."

 

"Hmph."

 

Simeon's voice broke in. "Prepare to drop in one

minute seven seconds from mark. Mark, Get it tight, Gus."

 

"Yeah," said one of the miners who had rigged the

charges, "that thing has to stay in the same attitude.

Charges won't be half as effective if it's tumbling."

 

"Roger that," Simeonsaid.Notimeforalinkup. They'd

have to listen, reaSy carefully. "Everyone got that mark?"

 

A chorus of affirmatives. Gusky licked sweat from his

upper lip. He'd never told Simeon, exacdy, but his five-

year hitch in the Navy had been pretty uneventful:

patrols, exercises, showing the flag, mapping expedi-

tions. The most nerve-wracking moments had been the

fleet handball competitions and surprise inspections.

 

"You pull the trigger, right?" he said.

 

"You got it, buddy," Simeon replied. His voice had

less timbre, less humanity to it than usual.

 

"I hate being reassured in a voice that calm."

 

Fve got other things on my mind. "Channa's suit got hit

She's running out of air."

 

"Oh." I screwed the pooch again, goddamitt. "Sorry."

 

"Get ready."

 

The tugs were arrayed around the great tattered

bulk of the intruder ship like the legs of a starfish,

linked by the invisible bonds of the grapnel fields.

Gusky kept the rear-field screen on at a steady x25

magnification. When the fields released, the image of

the hulk seemed to disappear into a point-source of

light in less than a heartbeat Vision went gray at the

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

119

 

edges, before the engines cycled down to something

bearable. Tugs necessarily had high power-to-weight

ratios. Then the shrinking dot of the derelict blinked

with colorless fire.

 

Gusky cycled the screen to higher magnification.

"Phew," ne said gustily. The charges had cut the

remaining forward section loose from the half-melted

engine compartment and its core. Joined to the power

module, whatever parts of the ship did not vaporize

would be hyper-velocity shrapnel in all directions.

With a Idick-or so distance and a vector away from the

station, much less could go wrong. Blast is less

dangerous without an atmosphere to propagate in.

There is nothing to carry the shock wave except the

actual gases of the explosion and they disperse rapidly.

Given minimal luck, the explosion would just kick

what was left of the hulk further away.

 

"When will itÑ"

 

The screen blanked protectively. So did his faceplate

and the forward ports of the tug's cabin. Beside him the

copilot flung his hand up in useless reflex. Even from

the rear, the intensity of light was overwhelming.

 

"Did it work?" Gusky called as visibility returned. That

was not as reassuring as it could have been. Half the sen-

sors and telltales on the board were blinking red.

 

"Sorry." This time Simeon did sound sorry. "That

ship ... the engines were so old, the parameters were

different... There's a lot more secondary radiation

and subflux than I thought there would be."

 

"Thanks," Gusky said facetiously. "All right,

people, report."

 

"I've got a flux in my drive cores I can't damp," one

of the volunteers said immediately. "Induction, I guess.

Getting worse.**

 

"Let me see it," Gusky said, surprised at his own

calm. This was much better than waiting; there wasn't

time to be worried. "All right, you've got a feedback loop

 

i20

 

ArtruMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

 

there and it's past redline. Set your controls for maxi-

mum acceleration at ninety degrees to the ecliptic with

a one-minute delay, then bail out"

 

"Hey, this is my tugf the volunteer wailed.

 

"It's going to be your ball of incandescent gas in

about ten minutes," Gusky said grimly. "Or hot gas that

includes you. Take your pick."

 

Simeon cut in. "Station will pick up full replace-

ment costs."

 

"Lobachevsy and Wong, you're closest," Gusky said,

**pick 'em up!" Gusky's pickups showed the luckless

volunteers jetting away on backpack and their craft

streaking for deep space on autopilot. "The rest of you,

dump me some data."

 

"Yessir, Admiral," one replied dryly.

 

The information dutifully came in. "Okay,

Lobachevsky, Wong, you look functional, sort of. Take

the others with overstrained drives in tow, and well go

back nice and slow and easy." With several mitticms'worth

of tug that just became so much scrap. Suddenly boring routine

becomes very attractive as a way of life. War games are excite-

ment enough.

 

He touched the control surfaces to establish a tight

fine circuit to the station. "Simeon, what about us?"

 

"Let's put it this way, Gus. None of you are going to

die. But some of you aren't going to be very happy for a

while, either. Sickbay will be crowded." A long pause.

"Congratulations."

 

Gus grinned; half of that was relief from raw fear.

Everyone who lives in space is afraid of decompression,

which is why many become agoraphobic planetside.

Those who do much EVA work or serve on warships

develop a similar fear of radiation, which has the added

terror of killing insidiously. On the other hand, most

dangers in spaceeitherkilldeanly or letlive.

 

"You're welcome," the big man continued. "What

about Channa?"

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

121

 

Patsy's voice joined in. "She's gonna be fahn. Hey,

Gus," she went on lazily, "you thaink people will

respect us for this?"

 

Gusky keyed for the visuals. He got a double view, over-

head from the docking chamber where the tug rested in

its cradle and frSm the Chicle itself. Both showed Channa

Hap being carried offin a floating stretcher.

 

"Phew. Glad she made it okay."

 

"Yayuh, mah sentiments exactly. Got a good one

 

thar."

 

Gusky nodded. On station, Channa acted like a cryonic

bitch, he thought, but she's there when it comes down to cases.

This was the worst emergency SSS-900 had faced in the

time he'd been here. SSS-900-C, he reminded himself.

 

"I dunno," he said, *7 never respected anyone who

led from the rear."

 

She laughed. "Hey! This might get us a nice rest

cure somewhar pretty. We could go tagetha." She

made the last a question.

 

"If any two parts of us are still stuck together when

this is over, Patsy, you got a date."

 

"Unh-hunh!" she said enthusiastically.

 

Hey, first base! Gusky thought After thirty months of

ritualized sparring so routine it had gotten to be as

comfortably low-key as playing war games with

Simeon. That is, ifTm not sick as a puke once sickbay gets

through with me. Doctor Chaundra believed in repairing

you rapidly. In some circles he was known as "Kill or

Cure Chaundra."

 

"I need a drink," he said solemnly.

 

"Ah'U buy," Patsy said.

 

a CHAPTER SE^EN

 

Channa woke to an excruciating, high pitched

wailing.

 

The engines! she thought fin still on the derelict! Fve get

to get out of here!

 

She lifted her head with a gasp and laid it back down

again with a heartfelt groan. This has to be a fatal

headache, she thought, nobody could feel lake this and live.

 

The ceiling overhead was a soothing pale blue as

were the privacy screens around her. There was a vase

of flowers on the bedside table and a bank of portable

equipment on the other side, quiedy talking to itself

and occasionally waving a sensor probe over her body.

A suit of working clothes, overtights and jacket and

belt, were draped on a clothes stand at the foot of the

bed. The air had a slight, pleasant scent of cedar.

 

Sickbay, she thought The ambience was unmistakable.

 

The wailing went on and on, sometimes breaking

into sharp yelps. / hope I Hve long enough to kill whoever is

making that racket.

 

"Who is that?" she finally demanded.

 

"Ah, Channa," said Simeon in a voice as soft as rain

water.

 

Channa sighed and closed her eyes again. It was

restful, and her body was beginning to accept that she

was alive and in no clanger. Which was a difficult thing,

if you'd gone under deeply concerned about your

chances of ever waking up again.

 

"Welcome back to the living," said a flatter voice with a

tilting singsongaccent There was a sound of movement

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

123

 

She opened her eyes to see Doctor Chaundra lean-

ing over her. He had his professional expression on; a

sort of antiseptic smile, nothing like the genuine

enthusiasm he showed in a social situation talking

about his specialty. C^anna managed the complex pro-

cedure of smiling and Minting simultaneously.

 

"My head," she said in a croaking voice, feebly rais-

ing a shakingitand to rub her brow.

 

"Got just die thing," he said. He touched the angle of

her throat with an injector. It hissed and she felt a touch

of cold. . '

 

Almost instantly, the pain boring its way into her

brain began to fade. "Oh, Ghu! that's better." She

licked dry lips.

 

"No, I have merely blocked the pain," the doctor said

pedantically. "The organic damage is minimal but will

take several days to heal."

 

"Thirsty?" She raised her brows in pathetic query.

 

Chaundra poured a glass of water from a bedside

carafe, put in a straw and handed it to her.

 

She sucked greedily on the straw, mindful of her head

position, and handed him the empty glass. "More," she

demanded. He refilled it, and she drained it again almost

as soon as he handed it to her. The wailer took offagain.

Channa frowned. "Who's thatbadly hurt?**

 

He grimaced. "She's one of the people we evacuated

from the ship; the first one awake. We don't know who

she is. She's done nothing but shriek since she woke

up. To answer your other question, no, she's not badly

hurt She's dehydrated, and probably has a headache

like yours from that, and she had a bloody nose from

the abrupt deceleration."

 

There was an especially violent shriek and the sound

of something metal tipping over and of things scatter-

ing. Voices murmured soothing words in edged tones.

 

"If she can scream like that with a headache like the

one I woke up with, she's crazy," Channa said.

 

124

 

AtmeMcCaffrey &SM. Stating

 

Chaundra nodded. "That, too, is a possibility, but I

feel that she is presently venting hysteria as a

by-product of coldsleep." He sighed. "The earliest

methods sometimes had the effect of suppressing basic

inhibition."

 

"Can't you give her something?" Simeon asked from

a wall mike. "That sound has just gone from pathetic to

seriously annoying."

 

"No," the medical chief replied. "Or rather, I'd

prefer not to immediately. They drugged themselves

rather heavily, indeed, presumably to keep their

oxygen consumption down. I've no idea for how long a

period of time, but from their physical condition, it

must have been too long." He gave another of his

sighs. "I'd really rather not put anything else into her

system. Especially since many of the substances they

used seem to have been past recommended shelf life,

or discontinued types, or both."

 

"They say that if someone gets hysterical, a simple

slap across Ñ " Simeon began.

 

Chaundra interrupted him. "I am thinking that has

more to do with relieving the frustration of the listeners

than the distress of the patient," he said with a resigned

smile.

 

"You're a saint, Doctor," Channa told him. Actually

she knew that he was a pacifist widower with a passion

for surgery, but no matter. "But I'm not So, before I'm

compelled to go over there and knock the little git

through the wall, I'd like to get out of here."

 

He smiled and touched the machine. It waved more

probes over her, prodding in two or three sensitive

places. The readouts had him nodding almost at once.

"Yes, you can be going now."

 

She stood with a satisfied sigh. "Um, is there anyone

coherent awake yet?"

 

"Yes, a young man. He's still more than a bit groggy,

so we haven't let him up yet He wants to help this girl."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

125

 

"Can't you put him on a pallet or in a chair and push

him over there?" Simeon asked. "It might help both of

 

them."

 

"Depends," Chaundra said, "on how he's doing."

 

¥Just seeing him might help her," Channa suggested.

 

"Worth-a try* Chaufcdra shrugged and grabbed a

float chair from a cluster of them by the door. "Over

here," he said andjCfhanna followed, pulling on a

dressing gown.

 

The man in question was the beautiful lad she her-

self had packed lip. Simeon watched Channa's pupils

enlarge and decided that she was probably responding

even more enthusiastically than she had on die ship.

Pheromanes, he told himself wisely. And fewer distractions.

 

The young man had raised himself up on one elbow,

a slight sweat glistening on his shapely brow. He looked

at them with distress in his light blue eyes.

 

"Please, let me go to her," he pleaded. His accent was

exquisite, his voice a light baritone. The language was

recognizable Standard, although the vowels had an

archaic tonality.

 

From the look on her face, Simeon decided that

Channa would have taken him to hell if he wanted to

go. Simeon wanted him off the station.

 

Guys like him cause more trouble than beautiful females,

Simeon thought. On the other hand, if he can shut that

screamer up, fllput him on the payroll.

 

Channa and Chaundra helped the Adonis into the

chair and pushed him over to the pallet where the

young woman lay. He reached out for her hand and

began stroking it

 

She had waist-length dark hair and a pale, bony face

with plain features and high cheekbones. Long, gold-

lashed eyes of a dark blue that was almost black stared

at him, her screeches cut off for a blissful moment of

silence. Then the whites showed all round the iris of

her eyes, and before Channa or Chaundra could stop

 

126

 

Anru McCaflny fc? SM. Stirling

 

her, she had grabbed the carafe from the table beside

her and was swinging it at him.

 

"You did this! You could have killed me! 1'almost diedr

 

The metal carafe connected witfc his temple in a sick-

ening smack. The young man slid|x>nelessly from the

chair while, not content with the damage she'd just

inflicted, the girl strove to climb over the safety railings

on the side of her pallet, shrieking'that it was his fault,

all his fault. Then she began to sob with equal vigor.

"My love, my love, what have they done to you?"

 

Chaundra's interns and head nurse leaped for the pal-

let in well-choreographed unison. This infirmary saw a

lot of visiting miners, still high on various recreational

chemicals, not to mention plain old-fashioned ethanol, so

they knew what to do. One pinned her arms and another

slapped an injector on the nearest portion of her flailing

body. Instantly she slumped into unconsciousness.

 

"Doctor," Simeon said firmly, "put that girl in

restraints until she returns to rationality. She can blame

me for this one."

 

"You have it," Chaundra said. The nurses buckled

the unconscious woman onto her pallet but were too

professional to show the slightest trace of vindictiveness

as they tightened the straps. Chaundra bent over the

unconscious man.

 

"Glancing blow after all," he said, pulling up one

eyelid. "Should regain consciousness soon."

 

"I'll be in my quarters, Doctor," Channa said, and

gathering up her clothing, walked wearily to an

elevator. She entered and leaned against a wall, dosing

her eyes.

 

"You okay?" Simeon asked anxiously.

 

She smiled. "I'm very okay, thank you." She opened

her eyes and straightened, rolling her shoulders to

loosen the kinks. "I'm still thirsty," she said, "and hungry,

and alive." Then she widened her eyes in dismay. "How

could I forget? The brain, did he make it?"

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

127

 

Simeon paused. "No."

 

Channa slumped and covered her face with her

hands. She looked up, her lips pressed tightly together

for the rest of the ascent. Then she asked quietly, "Have

you had a chance to find out anything about our sur-

vivors?" -  ~ *

 

"Not as much as I'd hoped to, but 1 did find out

something ahout the shellperson. He was Planetary

Manager Guiyon. Last assigned to a colony planet

called Bethel, orbiting the sun GK.728, known locally

as Saffron. Ijnfdrmed Central Worlds of his... death:

beyond the call of duty, I'd say. They told me what they

had on record. After his original contract ended, he just

stayed on, apparently for no other reason than he liked

Saffron's pretty yellow color.

 

"Bethel's seemingly just an undistinguished colony

of no great population, located a little off the beaten

path, more than a bit xenophobic in their attitudes.

They won't trade with nonhumans, for example. It was

established about three hundred years ago by a 'tightly

knit, religiously oriented group.' Hmmm." Simeon

paused. "In three hundred years, a religion could

develop any number of nasty kinks. The refugees may

have been cast out. They may have left voluntarily to

establish another base for their sect I don't have that

information." He continued softly. "Guiyon must have

been there a long, long time. A long time and a long

way to die like that, alone in the dark."

 

His final words were said in the merest whisper and

Channa felt tears pricking at her eyes. It was fitting for

a brawn to mourn a brain. She let her tears fall. She

could. Simeon couldn't.

 

She left the elevator and entered the lounge, dropping

weakly into the nearest comfortable chair. She leaned her

head back and dosed her eyes, letting the tears fell. For a

long time she and Simeon observed silence.

 

"What about the data we got from the bridge?" she

 

128

 

Anne McCaffiiy &? SM. SfxrOng

 

said at last, wiping her eyes again with the back of her

hand. "Was it blank?"

 

"I, uh, can't read it," Simeon said. Under the grief;

embarrassment tinged his voice. "The codes are

ancient. In fact, it may not be a code, it may be a lan-

guage. One I don't have on record, which means it

must have been extinct before spaceflight and in

limited use even then."

 

Channa began to laugh, suppressing it with effort

before it took her over. She stifled it with a groan. "I'm

almost afraid to ask this but.. .** and she found herself

glancing at his column for reassurance. "What's the

report on the people we rescued? Besides the screamer."

 

"Forty of the fifty we found survived to reach the

station."

 

"Oh, Gnu!" she said and sat forward, her arms

crossed on her knees, her forehead resting on them.

"We didn't have time to count the dead, did we? Damn!

We could at least have done that!" She sat back again

and looked around the room bitterly, as though resent-

ing its comfortable, unchanged appearance.

 

"I know," Simeon told her. "I feel that I've foiled."

 

"You aren't the only one," she said, and sobbed once.

She placed her hand over her mouth, pressing hard, to

stifle any others that might follow. After a moment she

spoke again in a thick voice. "And the station?"

 

"That came out all right," he said, and gave her a

report long enough for her to regain control: good news

in the fortunate lack of injury to station personnel, lack of

any real structural damage to the station or traffic, with

the notable exception of the ore carrier. He reported that

incoming ships were huddled on the for side of the sta-

tion Ñjust in case Ñ and ended with an invitation to the

party being thrown by the tug pilot volunteers for

anyone who wanted to come. By the time he was

finished, Channa was struggling to keep her eyes open.

 

"I never thought I'd see the day when I was too

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

129

 

drained to debauch," she said in a hoarse voice. "I must

be getting old."

 

"Cut yourself some slack, kid," Simeon said, revert-

ing to his juvenile affectation. "You did actually die.

Subjectively, I mean. I think it's a bit much to expect to

be in a partying1 mt>oa4wo hours after being brought

back to life. Remember, the slogan is 'eat, drink and be

merry for tontqrroui we may die.' So you're covered."

 

Channa managed a weak grin.

 

/oofo exactly t%e she feels. "How would it be if I sent some-

thing down inyour name, champagne or something?"

 

"Perfect," she said weakly, but with feeling.

 

"And you must eat something. Doc Chaundra said

you'd feel better for it. It'll stave off a return of the

headache."

 

"I'm for that" She rose, reeling slightly on her way

to the small galley to find whatever was easiest to

prepare. She was staring into a cupboard, not even

registering what she was looking at, when the door to

the lounge swooshed open. She stumbled out to see

who it was and arrived in time to see Mart'an, himself,

and a bevy of waiters sweep into the main lounge.

 

"Ah, my dear and valiant mademoiselle!" He

snapped his heels together and bowed crisply from the

waist. "I salute you. We of the Perimeter Restauran*

would like to thank you for your extraordinary bravery

which has saved the station." His arm swept out grace-

fully, indicating the serving trolley. "A mere token of

our esteem, I know, but we put our hearts into every-

thing that we prepare, and this evening, I think that we

have even surpassed ourselves. As our gratitude is sur-

passing." He bowed again, a more modest version,

with his right hand spread across his heart.

 

Channa smiled stupidly at him for a moment until

she could gather enough of her wits together to tell

him that he was very kind.

 

130

 

Anrtf McCaffny fe? SM. Stirling

 

He offered her his arm and led her to a chair.

Instantly his cohorts flowed into action. A table was

brought, a cloth spread, service laid, wine poured,

napkin spread and food appeared on her plate. The

arrangement alone was a work, of art. Simeon

recognized actual Terran truffles decorating the

appetizer and the entree was no le$s than carre d'agneau

Mistral. A file said the recipe was by Escoffier, Mart'an's

boyhood hero.

 

/ bet they'd chew it for her if she asked them to, Simeon

thought, amused.

 

"Ah, Monsieur Simeon." Mart'an exhaled a tragic

sigh, his face wearing the blank expression softshells

adopted when addressing someone unseen. "How we

wish we could offer a similar tribute to you."

 

Simeon put his likeness up on his column-screen,

made it smile appreciatively and bow slighdy. "By com-

ing to the aid of my brawn in this manner, monsieur,

you are serving both myself and the station superbly. I

cannot begin to express my appreciation."

 

Channa's eyes widened; her mouth, however, was

fully occupied.

 

Ha! he thought, triumphandy. Didn't think I had it in

me, didja, Happy? Diplomacy 'R Us.

 

"I wonder," he said confidentially to Mart'an, "if it

would be possible for you to clear away at a later time?

Ms. Hap is extremely weary and I need to bring her up

to speed on station business before she retires...."

 

"Of, course," Mart'an said heartily. With a flutter of

his hands, he gathered his magic minions together and

the whole group departed as smoothly as they had

arrived.

 

Channa sipped her wine with an appreciative glow

on her face.

 

"Go easy on that," he cautioned her. "I know you're

thirsty, but water would be a better choice."

 

"Yes, Dad." She picked up her fork and began eating

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

131

 

again, chewing appreciatively. "Too bad you can't taste

foods, but I assure you this lamb is deeelicious." She

rolled her eyes. "Sq, bring me up to speed. What else is

there to crown today's glad tidings?"

 

"Nothing more really," he said, "except that the

computer has finally regurgitated a translation pro-

gram for me. The language was extinct Ñ Chuvash,

whatever that is. TheAI worked back from loanwords

of known languages, but it's warning me that there are

gaps in vocabulary and most certainly in shades of

meaning...",

 

"What does Central Worlds say about this disaster?"

She yawned deeply. "Or don't we have enough comsat

capability left?"

 

"I gave them an outline of events and the reap-

pearance of... Guiyon. They were more concerned

that I was still operational. Which I am. They expect a

full report, of course, but I'm hoping to include more

information about the ship. They can wait. They've the

bones of the matter."

 

"Any news on Joat?"

 

"Nothing specific," he said with a sigh. "With

everyone suited up, it was impossible to tell who was

who. Not all suits have nametags and skill-codes. I

haven't heard a sound from the engineering section."

 

"Well, I want to be sure she's all right," Channa said,

exploding in angry anxiety. "You open up a channel

down there and tell her that we need to know if she

made it. One lousy 'yes, I did' will be sufficient." She

picked up her fork again but was merely pushing food

around the plate, her expression almost sulky.

 

Simeon regarded her with a mildly exasperated

mental smile. When she was tired, Channa was amaz-

ingly like Joat. Sending the necessary discreet query, he

was also relieved to have received a prompt reply,

though he puzzled over Joat's odd undertone.

 

"She made it. I told her one word would do it, and

 

132

 

Anne McCaffag &? SM. Stating

 

she gave me two. Quote, I'm okay, end-quote. You

should try to get some rest, Channa." A pause. "No

wait a minute. She's adding something. Oh, really?

Quote, Tell Channa she did a neatojob. *

 

Unutterably relieved, Chanha pushed the table

aside. Somehow, knowing that Joat was safe released

the tension that had kept her going so long. Like a

robot, she moved toward her quarters, made it to the

door before she stopped, holding onto the frame.

 

"Simeon," she said, looking over her shoulder at his

column, her head of its own accord resting against the

cool metal panel, "I am your brawn, remember. You are

required to inform me of any untoward incident. Yes?"

 

"Yes, ma'am," he said meekly.

 

She nodded sharply: a "you'd better" gesture, and

entered her quarters. The bed beckoned irresistibly;

she had a dreamlike memory of fumbling with the sick-

bay wrapper and crawling onto the bed, of a servo

pulling the covers up around her. Soft music hummed

her to sleep.

 

"Good morning," Simeon greeted her the next day.

"You look rested," he said. Fm learning, he congratu-

lated himself, / didn't say, you looked like hett on a rampage

last night, or even, you look a lot better. I'm acquiring sen-

sitivity, he thought smugly, suppressing the thought

that she had made him so. Hope it doesn't wreck my style.

 

"I feel rested, too," she said in some surprise. "After

yesterday, I'm surprised I woke up today. You didn't,"

and her tone became suspicious, "let me oversleep?"

 

The essential Channa has not altered overnight! "Nothing

new to report I'm still parsing through the language,

but it's odds on we'll get more out of the passengers

than the logs."

 

"How are they? Anybody else awake yet?"

 

"Doctor Chaundra says that poor bastard the

screeching Valkyrie cold-cocked is their leader, name of

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

133

 

j(\Jnos ben Sierra Nueva. The valkyrie is Rachel bint

Damscus. I knew you'd like to put names to the face...

es(" he added hurriedly, not wishing to single the man

out for her attention in any way. "The doc says he'll be

able to join us at the meeting."

 

"Whoelse?"-   - * t,

 

"Leader Amos ahd his sidekick, a guy called Joseph

ben Said." ¥      _-'

 

Channa took a sip of the coffee she'd made. "When

are they due here?"

 

"We've a station ofncers meeting in about an hour.

Chaundra, too, if someone's not critical. Whenever

we've finished that, I'll call down for Sierra Nueva and

this Joseph fellow."

 

"Do me a favor," Channa said, "call him Amos,

would you please? Sierra Nueva makes him sound like

one of those dances that are supposed to make your

blood boil and your libido unhinge."

 

"You got it. We don't want forbidden passions run-

ning riot all over the station, now do we?"

 

"Well," she said with a grin, wiggling her eyebrows

suggestively, "that part's negotiable."

 

Well, well, Channa ma belle, nothing like dying to loosen a

person up, eh? Let's hope the "mellow" lasts a while inyou.

 

He noticed a visitor in the corridor and opened the door

before the boy outside could ring for admittance: a tall thin

twelve-year-old, dark and slender of face but with green

eyes and a reddish tint to his brown hair. The boy stood

there a moment startled, his mouth a perfect O.

 

"Come on in," Simeon invited. Channa looked up

from her notescreen and reinforced the welcome.

 

"Uh, hi," the kid said nervously. Simeon noted that

he walked with a cane. "I'm Seld Chaundra? I'm in

Joat's class?"

 

"Oh, really?" Simeon said helpfully.

 

"Yeah." Seld's free hand bunched the material of his

trouser leg. "Um, is she here?"

 

134

 

Anne McCaffrey fcf 5M. Stating

 

"Not at the moment," Channa told him, resting her

chin on her fist "We'll give her a message," and Chan-

na added a mental/tkmk. MIs there a problem?"

 

"Oh, no," he shook his head in wide-eyed denial. "It's

just... Well, she wasn't in class today and I was worried

that she might of got hurt or something yesterday.**

 

"That's very kind of you," Channa said approvingly

"But she came through.., okay!" ''

 

"We'll tell her that you were asking about her, Seld,"

Simeon told him.

 

"Will she be in school tomorrow?"

 

"Quite possibly," Simeon said mendaciously. "I'll let

her know you were asking for her and tell her to con-

tact you. Does she have your call code?"

 

"Yes, sir, she does, sir." Like all station-born

youngsters, Seld was not unaccustomed to Simeon

speaking from the nearest sound cube, but he had the

good manners to bow to the column. "Sorry to have

bothered you." He waved at Channa and stepped back

through the door.

 

"Welir Channa said, pleased. "She has a peer who

cares enough about her well-being to beard you in

your lair."

 

"You think that's enough to entice her back out?"

 

Channa deliberated. "I think it will certainly alter

her thinking. When you're sure no one cares about

you, it's easy to be depressed and feel hopeless. Go on,"

she said with an encouraging smile at his column, "tell

her Seld was here, worried she might have been hurt,

and looking for her in class."

 

"Yeah, he's okayÑSeld is, sort of," Joat said. "Bit of a

kid,y'know?"

 

"Chronologically speaking," Simeon remarked

blandly, "you're a kid yourself."

 

Joat laughed with more than a trace of bitterness; it

was a sound like a yelping coyote. "Never had the time

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

135

 

or chance to be one. So it's a little late, like, to expect me

to act like one."

 

Silence fell in the improvised nest at the intersection

of the ducts, butthe girl heard just the softest sigh of

regret issue from Simeon.

 

Softie, sbe thought,>fith a rueful affection. Even if he

was ... what was tike jingle? Spam-in-a-can? Nice guy,

she decided. He need&someone to look after him. Besides

Channa Hap, that was. Channa might be his brawn,

but she seemed to have looked after everyone else

yesterday instead of him.

 

"Yeah, Seld's not a bad osco. Sorta knows his way

around a keyboard, in a kid sorta way. Can't fight worth

shit, though."

 

"He says they miss you at school," Simeon replied

noncommittally.

 

Joat gave a second bark of sour laughter. "Not that

bitchite Louise Koprekni, she doesn't"

 

"Pushing her face in the toilet bowl was a bit

extreme, wasn't it, Joat?"

 

"She said I smelled."

 

"You did smell. Then! That's about the time you con-

sidered regular washing wasn't such a bizarre notion."

 

Joat's lower lip stuck out, and she turned back to her

keyboard and the collection of miscellaneous electronic

junk which Simeon had been trying to identify.

 

"What's that you're contrapting?" Simeon asked.

 

"Riffler."

 

"Dare I ask what a riffler is?" Do 7 want to know?

 

"Ultrasonic. Pops the caps." M Simeon's interroga-

tive sound, she explained. "Bursts the capillaries, like,

you know, instant really, really bad sunburn?"

 

"It what?" Then he modified his tone to a more

conversational level. "We hadn't planned on dragging

you out, you know."

 

"I didn't figure you would.*1

 

"You haven't... ah... tried it out, have you?"

 

136   Amu McCaffny&SM. Stating

 

"Not yet."

 

"How will you know it works?"

 

"It will!" Hie confidence in that reply was unnerving.

 

"Wouldn't kill anyone, but it'll sure make 'em think

twice about following me."    ¥*

 

"Ah, I see."

 

His visual picked up just the hint of a grin as Joat

bent her head to continue her handiwork.

 

"Some things," she said cryptically.

 

Silence fell again. Conversations with Joat reminded

Simeon of documentaries he had seen of catching trout

by hand. You had to be very patient to succeed.

 

"Looks like trouble coming," she said neutrally.

 

"Trouble's over," Simeon said. "Look, Joat, I do

apologize for not checking on you during the alert, but ..."

 

"No need. You gave me a suit, remember. That was

all I needed," Joat pointed out reasonably. "Something

threatens you, the station, we're all in deep kimchee.

Right? Much better you spent your time keeping us

from getting in so deep we have to shovel our way out."

 

"You've an extremely realistic attitude, Joat,"

Simeon said, with a certain tone of admiration for the

independence in her that also worried him.

 

"I'm no sap," Joat announced with satisfaction.

"Troubles don't come by ones and twos, either Ñ you get

'em by kilobyte loads, fll be ready. " She patted the riffler.

 

*Tm sure you will," Simeon replied soothingly.

 

"Yuh. See you at dinner."

 

"At dinner?" He sounded surprised but that pleased

her. "Umm, yes, see you then," he added, doing a good

job of sounding casual.

 

Joat whistled soundlessly to herself as she felt

Simeon's attention withdraw Ñ most of it, at least She

also switched on the white-noise maker and the

scrambler she'd rigged up . She was no longer complete^

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

137

 

sure they worked, Simeon having had enough of a look

at her contrivances to perhaps neutralize them. Not

that he'd have had time to bother about her with so

much else on his'mind these days. Even a brain had

some limitations.

 

She didn't want an ai^Iience while she reran the stuff

she'd recorded dfiring Channa's exploits on the

intruder ship. First she screened something that had

come in on the Central datablip just today. The

watchman program Joat set up had cut it out and

routed it^to her system automatically.

 

Stretching luxuriously, she popped the tab on a can of

near-beer. She stayed away from the real thing because it

made her feel loggy and squiff. She bit a big hunk off a

chocolate nut bar, grinning around the mouthful with

vindictive delight as the scene played on.

 

A crowd surrounded the obviously official building

and their chant ran shrill and menacing as they waved

their placards which bore the same message they

chanted.

 

"Dorgan the bigot! Dorgan out! Dorgan the bigot! Dargan

out!"

 

The ground-floor windows have been shattered and

a line of riot-armed police were holding the SPRIM

demonstrators at bay The visual shifted to an interior

room where Ms. Dorgan of the Child Welfare depart-

ment, looking rumpled and alarmed, was gesticulating

wildly.

 

"And I categorically deny saying that shellpeople are

unnatural abominations with no right to live!" she

wailed. "Or that they make me want to puke!"

 

Joat grinned. She wanted to be a systems engineer

when she grew up Ñ or maybe even a brawn Ñ but

editing was a nice hobby. Editing transmissions of

recorded conversations sent to SPRIM and MM, for

example. Channa had the right idea, but adults had no

enthusiasm for taking an idea and running with it

 

138

 

Amu McCaffrey fc? SJVf. Stating

 

"Like the teacher said," she muttered, taking

another mouthful. "I gotta lot of buried hostility I got

to learn to express."

 

"I felt a good deal like screaming myself" Joseph said.

 

Amos sighed and lowered himself fnto a chair. Once

Joseph insisted, the doctor here Ñ a man, oddly

enough Ñ had moved him into a small suite, with a

private sitting room.

 

Apparently private, he reminded himself, though

there might well be listening devices. Otherwise, it had

the common strangeness of everything here, like soft

synthetics for the walls which could alter shade or sud-

denly turn themselves into view screens. He had

commanded that the space-scene transform itself into

something more restful, and the holograph had

turned to a neutral brown solidity. In its way, that made

him uneasy too. What appeared to be plain bare plastic

was obviously anything but.

 

"It is difficult to beUeve that we are safe," he said,

rubbing a hand over his face, which had grown

enough beard to rasp. He resolved to ask for a some, or

the local equivalent "To be frank, my brother, I never

expected to wake again."

 

"Neither did I," Joseph said, prowling with slow rest-

lessness. The gravity was slightly higher than Bethel,

just enough to be noticeable. "But we do not know that

we are safe Ñ even from the Kolnari."

 

Amos looked up sharply. "We do not?"

 

"The shell Ñ Guiyon," Joseph amended, at Amos'

frown "Ñ said that it Ñ"

 

"He." Amos compressed his lips firmly after that cor-

rection; the more so since he himself had never felt

entirely easy with Guiyon.

 

Guiyon saved us, he remembered. More than that.

Guiyon had been the first to listen to his youthful

doubts without recoiling in horror and ordering him to

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

139

 

do penance. Only families descended from the

prophet were allowed speech with the Planetary

Manager. Most Bethelites thought that entity was at

best legend, at worst an abomination of the infidel. lam

too old to befeve in nursery tales, Amos thought. He was a

nian now, with many dejpending on him.

 

"He," Joseph sai4, making a soothing gesture with

both hands, "He intended to take us to Rigel base. This

is not Rigel."

 

"No," Amos conceded. "SSS-900-C. Although they

seem reluctant to tell us more."

 

"Understandable, sir. Would you immediately trust

fugitives who came so close to destroying them, though

we knew it not? However, there are things they cannot

help but tell us."

 

"Yes," Amos said slowly. "For one, that this is no

 

military base."

 

"Just so, my brother. These are a peaceful people." At

Amos' dubious look, he went on. "I was raised dockside,

you will remember. I know more of traders and trading

than most. These are respectable merchants and

spacefarers, by their own ethics, if not by Bethel customs.

Dockside, we would have called them easy marks."

 

They looked at each other, haunted by what neither

would mention first. Amos took hold of himself. A

respectable, an ethical people deserved the truth.

 

"And we cannot know if the Kolnari still pursue,"

Amos whispered. Sickness tugged at the pit of his

stomach. To achieve safety, even for so few, and jeopardize m

turn their saviors. "We must talk to them!"

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

"All things considered, we didn't come out of the day

too badly at all," Chief Administrator Ciaren said, once

more running his stylus down his notescreen to be sure

he'd missed nothing.

 

Ducking her head, Channa managed to hide a

yawn. Meetings were meat and drink to Ciaren. When

he had the opportunity to trot out his careful graphs

and statistics for an audience, he positively glowed and

inflated. Uke a plain giri mho's just been asked to dance by a

high-school hero, she thought mordandy.

 

"We're down about three million credits," she

pointed out, reaching for the water carafe.

 

Two section chiefs sprang to fill the glass for her:

feme was already a bit wearing. The meeting was sup-

posed to have started as a working breakfast. Plates and

crumbs were scattered around the table. Gusky was

there too, looking a little pale Ñ either from the

medications, or from the party. Not only was he

prominent in his own business, he was a section repre-

sentative and, with the recent favorable publicity,

looked likely to be re-elected.

 

Patsy was filing a fingernail. "Somebody has ta pony

up the expenses," she pointed out. "Per example, we

commandeered equipment from Namakuri-Singh Ñ

who arh not known to be a charitable organization."

 

Gusky grunted, "/commandeered the equipment

which will have to be replaced, which you, Simeon,

authorized me to use."

 

"Not me personally. The station!" Simeon said

 

THE CFTY WHO FOUGHT

 

141

 

sharply. Brains tended to be sensitive about personal

debt, having had to pay off such a whacking great

amount for their early care and education. "No one

could say that I didn't do everything possible to mini-

mize damage.

 

Loss of the tngs-wa$unavoidable and the station is

morally obligated tfc compensate their owners for the

loss. Which; Ciaren,' we will recoup from Lloyd's,

invoking the force majeur clause."

 

"Yes, yes, of course, it will," Ciaren muttered,

making a quick notation.

 

"The other unavoidable losses and damages which

we've discussed today are going to wipe out the contin-

gency fund."

 

"It will?" Gus asked unhappy.

 

"Yes, it will," Ciaren agreed in a lugubrious tone of

 

voice.

 

"In a good cause," Simeon said briskly.

 

"On this Lloyd's claim," Gus went on, "well be deal-

ing with bureaucrats, bureaucratic accountants at that

Government bureaucratic accountants, with lawyers in

tow."

 

"The withered hand on the controls," Simeon

intoned.

 

"We could just rely on their decency, good nature

and inherent generosity," Gus suggested. Even Ciaren

laughed at that

 

Channa shuddered. "So we should be prepared for

accusations of mismanagement and hand-wringing over

the cost of every rivet, bolt and coupling." She affected a

nasal tone. "Didn't you realize that seventeen-point-

three seconds boost would have done just as well as

seventeen-point-seven?"

 

Chief Administrator Ciaren assured them that his

entries would be meticulously checked, all forms would

be properly made out, filed on time and to the proper

bureaus.

 

142

 

Anw McCaffrey &? 5M. Stating

 

"I won't go so for as to guarantee prompt or even

early payment," he said, allowing himself a very small

smile, "given that we'll be dealing with departments

over which I have no control. But, I can promise you

that I will do my best, and that is very good indeed."

 

There was a rumble of agreement

 

"At least we," Channa said firmly, "can authorize

immediate release of the contingency fund to private

persons who suffered damage and loss, or have to

make repairs germane to station functions. Claren, just

get the claims into the insurance companies as soon as

you can."

 

"Good luck," said the owner of a minerals company in

a wry tone. "I've noticed they're always more enthusiastic

about collecting premiums than paying claims."

 

That brought another chuckle. Channa turned to

the pillar and Simeon's image. "As far as the station

exterior damage is concerned, isn't there a relevant

clause in the station's charter that guarantees immedi-

ate repairs?"

 

"Hmmm." The holo turned static for a moment

before Simeon smiled, "Yes, as a matter of feetÑemer-

gency expenses for maintaining station integrity and

saving life and limb are covered under the general sta-

tion contract with Lloyd's. We ought to be able to cover

everything."

 

"Excellent," Claren said, tapping at his keyboard.

"'Nuther li'l thing. Fo' all them drills, Simeon, when

we was supposed to know what to do iffen thar was a

real one, thar was a mighty lot of folks ended up

runnin* around like scalded roosters. Ought to be

fined, to remind 'em to pay attention."

 

"Fined? Yes, fined! Fine. Good notion, Patsy,"

Simeon said, "And the longer they've been on station

and should know better, the heavier the fine. Pinch a

pocket, mark the memory. What bothers me is why

didn't they know where they were supposed to be. I call

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

143

 

these drills Ñ even if you're always complaining about

them Ñ often enough for everyone to know exactly

where to go and what to do. Their names are always

checked off on the roster, so why the hell were they

running around bumping into walls?"

 

"Aw, thar's allus some £>lk who panic, Simeon," Patsy

said. "Mos' of us was*whar we shoulda been. And Lord

knows, we got-it all done, din we?" Patsy said.

 

"I'm inclined to think that perhaps we should give

them the benefit of the doubt here," Channa put in.

"But perhaps you should keep an eye on the group

leaders, in the event that they just automatically check

off every name on their list without verifying that

everyone is in position and accounted for."

 

"Assign them a buddy," Gus said. "If they're too

helpless to know where to go and how to get there,

make it a joint responsibility."

 

"Should be the group leaders," Chaundra said in a

disgusted tone.

 

"Joint responsibility! Excellent," Simeon said, "just

like B & B teams."

 

The resolution was passed unanimously.

 

"Move that we break for lunch," somebody said. "It's

 

1300."

 

"Seconded," Channa said. "1 think I need a full

stomach to hear what our guests have to say. Spaceflot

suggests they've got a fairly lurid set of adventures to

tell us. Any objections? Adjourned."

 

A little different from last night, eh Happy? Simeon

watched as Channa munched on her thin sandwich.

He hoped she was comparing this fare with the feast

Mart'an had spread for her. The deck commissary was

not up to Perimeter standards, although Gus claimed

that they did an acceptable late-night pizza.

 

"So, brief us with what you know, Simeon, about our

latest arrivals," Gus said.

 

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Anne McCaffrey fcf 5M, Stating

 

Simeon made a throat-clearing sound. "Data base

describes 'em as a "tightly knit, religiously oriented

group' in origin," he said. "Judaeo-Sufi Buddhist

roots."

 

"Wow," Patsy said. "Thassa mouthful. But do they

believe in God?"  **

 

Wondering looks, sage nods and quizzical "ooh's"

went around the table.

 

"Probably worshipping snails and marrying their

siblings, or some such genetically stupid custom," Vick-

ers said. The station security chief was a short, rather

squat woman from New Newfoundland. "Buddhists,

you said? No wonder they nearly crashed us. That kind

don't know much about mechanical stuff."

 

"Wait, just a precise minute." Doctor Chaundra held

up a protesting hand. "To begin with, I saw no medical

indications of dangerous inbreeding. They may have

looked as if they didn't comprehend directions or our

comments, but they were all dazed from their experi-

ences. They are needing rest and recuperation, but

under that is health. Genetic diversity is low, but there

are few recessives. I would hazard that they must have

had a good screening program to begin with. The

group is above the norm. One or two may have endo-

crine behavioral problems from the coldsleep drugs.

They administered drugs well beyond their storage

lives. The Bethelite leader is a very articulate man,

educated and intelligent

 

"Although," he went on, with a slight frown, "he has

not been particularly communicative."

 

"Unfortunately, education and intelligence don't

always go hand in hand," Simeon commented. "It's not

that I've got my heart set on the 'religious fanatics drive

the heretics away' scenario, but it does fit the little I've

been able to decipher of Guiyon's log. Phrases like,

'Damn rockheaded elders who said immorality and

doubt in the young had brought doom'; 'told them

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

145

 

their children had a right to live'; 'feared some of them

might betray us'; 'escaped as best we could'; and sad-

dest of all, 'had to leave some behind to face death.'"

 

Patsy put down her sandwich. "I'm not hungry

anymore."

 

"Nor am I," Ghannajfcaid grimly. "It's rime to get this

from the mouths oftfie horses."

 

Stallion, you mean, Simeon remarked very privately.

 

Amos ben Sierra Nueva was accompanied by the

smaller, thickset-man who had been found beside him

on the colony ship. Two of Vickers* guards were dis-

creetly in attendance, more to guide the floatchairs

than guard.

 

They're weak as kittens, Simeon thought, not to mention

unarmed and with no place else to go and nothing to go there

in. Station personnel developed a special kind of

paranoia as a survival trait: nothing, no one must harm

their station. Any station, no matter how state-of-the-

art and safety conscious, was totally vulnerable. Had

he, in innocence, welcomed aboard terrorists fleeing

'rockheaded' elders? Oddly enough, the presence of

Guiyon argued against that possibility.

 

As their chairs thumped softly off their air cushions

to the floor, the two strangers looked with impassive

expressions at those seated around the table.

 

Simeon heard Patsy murmuring under her breath;

very faintly, almost subvocalizing. He focused, upping

the gain on his receptors:

 

"Oh, my oh my, that one is pretty" she was saying. "My oh

myohmy"

 

Patsy's obvious interest in the man did not surprise

Simeon but it did suggest he might have an entirely dif-

ferent problem on his hands. However, if Patsy's

charms should win Amos, Simeon could relax. Then

he caught Channa, glancing surreptitiously at Amos'

classic profile, slightly clouded with a worry that only

 

146

 

Anne McCaffrey fcf 5M. StMxng

 

gave him a more Jovian solemnity. Then, seeing the

look exchanged between Amos and Joseph, Simeon

wondered hopefully if the short, muscular man was his

boyfriend.

 

"Dr. Chaundra says that we mustn't tire you,"

Simeon said by way of calling the meeting to order, "but

we'd appreciate your filling us in on a few details."

 

Amos gave a start, and his eyes widened as he sud-

denly looked up to the pillar at the head of the table

and saw Simeon's synthesized face. So, he knows about

shettpeople, bid he's surprised to find one here.

 

"We are grateful for your succor," Amos began for-

mally, bowed his head, touching forehead and heart

with one hand.

 

"I am Amos ben Sierra Nueva, and my companion is

Joseph ben Said." The short man repeated Amos's

gesture.

 

Seeing it, Gusky frowned slightly and moved his

fingers. Simeon read the message. I figure the short one

for a hard case.

 

The brain accepted that verdict. There were some

things that only personal experience could teach.

Amos continued speaking, pausing as he sought the

appropriate words but gradually becoming more

fluent and his blue eyes began to warm with sincerity.

 

"We are of the colony on Bethel, I am loathe to tell

you, in the face of your generosity, of a terrible scourge,

a bright evil that flies upon us even now."

"A... bright evil?" Channa asked uncertainly.

Scourge* Evil? Sheesh! Simeon wondered. The

archaic syntax made the man sound as stilted as a his-

torical holoplay. What's he talking about? Devils* So he can

blame the whole disaster on the supernatural'? There was a

rustle as the others around the table leaned forward.

They had expected to hear about something safely in

the past, not a new threat to the station. Yesterday's had

been more than enough for a long while.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

147

 

"Indeed, lady, you are in grave danger." He caught

the blank or startled expressions around the table.

"Has Guiyon told you nothing?" he asked desperately.

 

"Guiyon is dead," Simeon said, and saw both men go

rigid with shock and grief. He thought better of them

for it and pausedto let them recover. "The ship's logs

are all but unreadable. Why don't you fill us in?"

Simeon suggested quietly.

 

"He is dead?" Amos's drawn face had gone pale under

its smooth light-olive coloring. "But, how is that possible?

He wa&a sljellperson, an immortal. Ah, perhaps that is

why we are not at Rigel Base or some other Central

Worlds facility where we thought to seek assistance."

 

"He brought you here, to SSS-900-C, a space station

and many light years from Rigel Base."

 

"How can an immortal die?" Joseph asked softly,

suppliant as he spread his hands wide in his lap.

 

"The feeder lines to his nutrient sources had

sheared off and, as there was no backup ..." Simeon

trailed off and both Bethelites bowed their heads a

moment, honoring the dead. "Considering the state of

that truly ancient vessel of yours, he did well to get you

this for."

 

Amos glanced at his companion. The other man's

hard blocky face was drawn, and he nodded his head

slowly twice, as if encouraging. Amos hesitated, cleared

his throat and, throwing his chin up, spoke directly to

Simeon.

 

"This is even worse than I had imagined. Guiyon must

have been truly desperate. Can you defend yourselves?"

 

"Well, we fended off your out-of-control ship pretty

successfully," Simeon replied. "What did you have in

mind?"

 

Amos leaned forward, supporting himself on the

armrests of the chair. His eyes took on a fierce glow.

 

"I will tell you," he said passionately, sweeping a look

at those around the table. "We of Bethel are a peaceful

 

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Anne MtCaffrey &f 5M. Stating

 

people." His fists met and clenched. "Virtually a

defenseless people." His mouth twisted in pain. "We

were attacked from the skies above our peaceful

planet. I do not know how you countthe hours in a day

or the days of a week, a month or a yegr. I do not know

how long we were unconscious in the Sleep. We fled

our home world for four periods of twenty-five hours

before I took the drug. Just before I did, Guiyon told

me that he thought we would have a solid five days'

lead. So nine days of twenty-five hoursÑtwo hundred

and twenty-five hours."

 

"Sixty minutes in yo* hoah, Mr. Sierra Nuevah?"

Patsy asked.

 

Looking over at her expressionlessly, he nodded

slowly.

 

Simeon called up a holo of Bethel, culled and real-

ized from the Survey Service data base.

 

"That is our world as it appeared before this

Exodus," Amos said bleakly, watching the slow rotation

on die screen. "Our capital city was there," and pointed

to where two large rivers flowed into a bay. "Keriss, we

called it. The place where the Pilgrims landed and

erected our Temple. The Kolnari. . ." He broke,

squeezing his eyes dosed, his face a mask of pain.

 

Reference, Simeon prompted silently, feeling the

computer begin its work. Tlien he felt a mental lurch as

he reviewed what Amos had said. The city of Keriss was

there:.past tense. Gus caught it as well, his pupils

widening.

 

"They demanded unconditional surrender," Amos

was saying, his face wiped dear of any emotion. "By

sneak attack, they disabled our orbital habitats, our

communications, everything we might have used to

call help."

 

He folded his shaking hands, clasping them so

tightly the knuckles showed white. "Tne Council of

Elders convened," he said. His lips tightened. "They

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

149

 

decided this tribulation was punishment for the

increasing immorality of the younger generation. Mel"

 

He stabbed himself in the breast with his fingers,

"And those like me, who only wanted a little more

freedom, who only wanted to have answers to

reasonable quCstiDnsAThey would not listen to me Ñ

even though I am a male descendent, in the Prophet's

own line."  _-

 

Locked in bitter memory, Amos did not notice the

surprise his words generated.

 

Ah, patrUineal descent system, Simeon thought.

 

"I thank the All-Knowing for Guiyon, for when I left

the council chamber that last time, he called to me.

Escape, he said. 'To go where? How?' I asked. He told

me then of the colony ship that had brought us to

Bethel. For three hundred years we had used it as a

weather and relaying station, nothing more. I left to

gather those who might follow me."

 

His hands knotted together. "And the Kolnari...

when the Elders refused surrender, they destroyed the

dry with a fusion weapon!"

 

A shocked murmur ran around the table. No one

had used fusion weapons in generations. Certainly not

in any sector answerable to the Central Worlds.

 

"Murderers! Looters! Pirates!" he spat out the words

and rubbed his face with his hands.

 

Another murmur. SSS-900-C was in a very peaceful

sector; the only nonhumans were spedes who did not

practice institutionalized violence. The settlers were

mostly well-integrated types, if a bit rambunctious, but

no more than was expected on a frontier. Piracy was an

historical phenomenon or a sporadic occurrence far

out on the Arm.

 

In a steady voice, all the more effective because of its

calm, Amos went on. "A tenth of our people died in that

moment, and all our leaders. The Kolnari told us that

we must capitulate or they would strike again. They

 

150

 

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Stating

 

broadcast their message from a dark screen. They

would strike again and again until we were obliterated

to the last man. Just this implacable voice. The

cowardsl They did not even show us the face of our

enemy. They gave us two hours to make up our minds.

 

"And so we began. It was very hard, we had to deter-

mine who we could take." His cheeks grew red with

shame as he continued. "First we took'Guiyon from his

column. We could not open the main bay doors. Ah,

but we were so stupid, so innocent, so untrained! We*d

managed to get supplies, disconnect Guiyon, gathered

our people, flown to the ship without being detected

and then," he gave a harsh bark of laughter, "the doors

refused to open! Some murmured that the Elders had

been right. We were being punished for our sins.

 

"Then, Joseph here," and Amos laid a light hand on

the short man's shoulder, "opened one of the service

airlocks. Only it was much too small for Guiyon's shell

He insisted that he didn't have to be inside, that we

must strap him to the hull near die bridge, so that his

brain synapses could be wired into the command

panel. He had to tell us everything that had to be done.

We knew so little of such matters." Another bitter snort

"And we were so afraid. None of us knew anything at

all about spatial navigation. I had piloted a ship, but

only a small one, and never beyond Bethel's moons.

Beyond Bethel's moons," and he made a broad sweep

of his arm, "was not fit for men of Bethel. Also, we know

nothing of the worlds outside our litde system. Guiyon

handled what outsystem commerce was permitted to

us on Bethel."

 

He paused, swallowing hard, and Chaundra filled a

glass with water for him. Amos nodded gratefully and

drank before he resumed his story.

 

"Guiyon dared not risk bringing us to one of the

nearer colonies for fear of leading those monsters to an

equally defenseless planet. Instead," and he gave a

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

151

 

mirthless laugh, "we may have led them to an even

more defenseless space station. At least on a planet, one

may know of safe hiding places. I do not know why we

are here and not at Rigel Base. Guiyon must have

changed course again. There were four fiends in our

wake when I had to adtept the drug. Well-armed war-

ships, or so Guiyc&i thought. And we have led them

here to you who have" saved the poor fragment of our

people who fled from our once beautiful planet" He

bowed his head, his shoulders slumping with his con-

summate despair.

 

An appalled silence had broken into a quickly rising

babble of "they've brought trouble here," "they led

fiends to its?," "But we're defenseless." Simeon let out a

modulated howl and they all shut up.

 

"Thank you," Simeon said ironically when silence

fell. When in danger, or in doubt, run in circles, scream and

shout, he added to himself.

 

"Guiyon brought them here because first, the

engines were about to blow, and second, they were

dying fast anyway, and third, SSS-900-C is, after all, on

the main route in this quadrant of Central Worlds

sphere of influence. Now, if we could examine the

problem more calmly?"

 

Claren turned to May Vickers. "As security chief,

you're required to defend us!"

 

Vickers looked at the man. "With stundart pistols?"

she asked incredulously. "I'm a police officer with fifty

part-time assistants. I lock up drunken miners and see

domestic disputes don't get out of hand," she said. "I've

never had experience with fiends and I want no part of

four warships." She crossed her arms across her solid

chest and looked accusingly up at Simeon.

 

"Is it possible that you might have lost them?"

Chaundra asked.

 

The two Bethelites shook their heads glumly.

 

"Unlikely," Simeon said, "not when Guiyon was

 

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Amu McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating

 

overdriving the engines and leaving an ion trail a blind

alien could follow."

 

Gus nodded. "Any warship could."

 

"Iffen they couldn't see the trail, thar's all them

pieces of the ship rollin* about, saying 'theah heahh!'"

Patsy waved her arms like a signalman. "We cain't

hardly say they passed on through.".,

 

"My information banks give me no information at all

about any group, or star system, known as Kolnari,"

said Simeon. "While J realize that your experience with

these people is short-term, had you even heard of them

on Bethel before they struck?"

 

Amos shook his head. "Guiyon had heard rumors of

a band of marauders in the Arm from the few traders

that came to Bethel. He was also forbidden by the

Elders to tell any but themselves what news traders

brought of the worlds beyond Bethel. On the ship, he

did tell me," and Amos furrowed his brow, trying to

remember the exact words the shellperson had used,

"that they struck so swiftly that no alarm could go forth.

That that was how they avoided detection by any force

great enough to come against them."

 

"Central Worlds, for instance," Channa said with a

rueful quirk of her lips.

 

Amos nodded. "The first wave of destruction was

aimed at our air and space ports, at communication

installations. The strike was as complete as it was unex-

pected. They chose not to show themselves to us until

all our space capacity was destroyed ... or so they

thought. All we know of them was from a very brief

time when we fought them. They follow us to destroy

the evidence of the destruction of Bethel, the latest of

their crimes. They will kill, and quickly. No doubt," he

added with scorn, "they feel uneasy being only four

instead of three hundred."

 

"Three hundred?" Simeon asked.

 

"Three hundred ships. So Guiyon told me. He had

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

153

 

seen them coming in but was forbidden by the Elders

to speak until they had decided what to do."

 

Gus whistled. "If that's three hundred warships,

people, not only do we have a problem, this whole sector

has a problem." The Navy was much larger, but it was

scattered. - " ~ ^

 

"Have you had*any recent word from Central,

Simeon?" Channa asjced him.

 

"Basically no more than an acknowledgement of the

... ah... incident in the vein of 'Gee,that's too bad, but

you're equipped to handle it and when your reports

are filed, we'll see what we can do.1 But of course that's

based on what happened yesterday; this may get us

action."

 

At least I hope it will, Simeon thought. Three hundred

ships! Shit! Simeon opened a tight beam to Central with

a mayday flag attached. Hopefully he'd have some

hard news before too long.

 

"What sort of armament did they have?" Gus asked

while the rest of the station's leaders sat, trying not to

look at each other and especially not at Amos and

Joseph. Amos had gone even paler and the blue of his

eyes had faded. He just sat there. On the other hand,

Joseph was watching each and every one of the station

heads with a critical gaze and the slightest of knowing

smiles on his full lips.

 

Simeon could see that the initial numbness his

people had felt was giving way to fear. Gus was fighting

it with trained reflex, but the others were edging slowly

toward panic.

 

"You must have something to fight with," Joseph

said, suddenly leaning his arms on the table and direct-

ing a piercing gaze from one face to another. "We

fought, and we had much less than you did who turned

the vessel from your station yesterday. With what did

you blow it into pieces? Do you have more? That is

something. It is more than we had who saw our ships

 

154

 

. Stirling

 

withered to slag. Our city..." He broke off and struck

his fists impotently into the table. "We have brought

you warning. We had none!"

 

Amos caught his friend by the wrists before he could

damage his hands. "Peace, my brotfier," he said softly.

 

"Oh, youah brothas?" Patsy saicfin mild surprise,

peering closely at both to find some familial

resemblance.      ;"

 

"Not of the blood," and Amos touched his temple

with his index finger, "of the mind."

 

"Unh-hunh!" Patsy blushed and tightened her lips

into a straight line.

 

"I've sent a message to Central Worlds," Simeon told

them in a brisk voice that he hoped sounded as if he had

matters well in hand. "They're consulting with the Space

Navy brass Ñ to see what to do. I was hoping they'd tell

me what they were doing, and or what we can do. I

should've anticipated a full fledged diplomatic-

bureaucratic-governmental-bunfight, complete with

quarrels over jurisdiction. Everyone with something to

say about this has to be tracked down and given an

opportunity to give his fardling opinion in triplicate.

Amos, believe me, kid, I know just how you feel about

elders. The good news is that Navy intends to act fast,

only there aren't any Navy units dose. The nearest is

eighteen days away. Tliis is assuming the brass cut move-

ment orders today and not sometime after we've become

the subject of mere academic debate, because we don't

exist anymore.

 

"Which means that at best we can look forward to thir-

teen lucky days with our naked butts hanging out waiting

for a kick from a booted foot That nearest Navy unit is a

patrol corvette, a warship only by courtesy."

 

"Then you must flee!" Amos leaned forward urgent-

ly. "You cannot hope to defeat them. You must leave

this place."

 

"Great idea," Simeon agreed, "in principle. Only the

 

THE cm WHO FOUGHT

 

155

 

station can't move. That's why it's a station. It's station-

ary. Get it?"

 

"You mock me most unfairly," Amos replied with

solemn and offended dignity. "I have no knowledge of

space stations or of your capabilities. Further, I am not

 

wrong. I£the stationltftelf cannot move, then its people

 

_*"   i ~

must                     *

 

"As far as- such advice goes," Gus cut in, "he has a

point. We should evacuate as many as we can Ñ

children, the sick, nonessential personnel. Whoever we

can, or whoever's hot to go."

 

"By my calculations," Simeon said, finishing them in

that instant, "given the number of ships currently in or

near me at the moment, we should be able to evacuate

over a thousand souls." He liked that touch. "Not

counting crews."

 

Tliere was silence for a moment A thousand was a frac-

tion of the average ever-shifiingpopulationofthe station.

 

Amos broke the silence hesitantly. "How many

people will that leave on the station?"

 

"Fifteen thousand, or so," Channa said grimly. "Our

population varies. Simeon, does your estimate include

emptying cargo bays and stuffing our people into them

in suits?" A desperation procedure and liable to result

in some fatalities.

 

"No, wecould evacuate a few hundred more that way."

 

Although, given the average softperson's reaction to long-

term confinement in tight spaces, we probably won't get many

volunteers for traveling that way.

 

"And before you ask," Simeon continued, "no, I

haven't even asked the captains their views on such an

. . . exodus. That's a best case scenario. We can't

prevent those who aren't docked in the station physi-

cally from leaving, so the scheme is still just inside this

room. I think diat before we start bringing anyone else

into this, we should have at least one plan to present,

preferably more than one."

 

156

 

Amu McCaffrey &f SM. Storting

 

"Evacuation plans?" Chaundra asked, his brow

furrowed.

 

"Those," Simeon said, "and plans to fight for the

station."

 

There was a certain brightening around the table.

Nothing visible, but the lift in attitude was almost

palpable.

 

"That's right up your alley, Simeon," Channa said

gendy, "even if this isn't a military installation."

 

"To fight," Joseph said, his dark eyes glinting with

revived hope. Or was it vengeance? "Yes, this is what

we would like to do, but how? Did you not say that you

had no weapons? And surely they will not give you a

chance to combat them. Why should they not simply

rush in and destroy you? That would be but child's play

for them."

 

"We will employ guile." Ceeze, their lingo is contagious,

he thought. "Remember, you said these people were

pirates?"

 

"Yes," Amos said. "When they made their initial

demand for surrenderÑthey mentioned deliveries of

materials, machines, labor. Pirates, but they speak as

though they were a people, a nation. The High Clan,

they sometimes named themselves. At others, the

Divine Ñ" his mouth puckered in distaste "Ñ the

Divine Seed of Kolnar."

 

"Right" Simeon spoke briskly. This is just (mother exotic

scenario, he told himself firmly. Games theory, experienceÑ

don't freeze up now. You've done things like this thousands of

times. "So they're no more than criminals, not a true

army, disciplined, strategically trained. More like gueril-

las. Jump in, grab what they can, jump out Right now,

they're pursuing you, and these four ships aim to destroy

you to keep you from spreading any nasty rumors about

them. So, what we better do first, is get their minds off

killing by distracting them with the material things they

wanted from you in the first place. Right?"

 

THE cm WHO FOUGHT

 

157

 

Every station officer thought about this. Then Gus

nodded slowly.

 

"If these people are space-based, and from the

description I think they must be Ñ what a prize the

SSS-900-C would be!" He turned to Amos and Joseph.

"What sort of intlustrfe^does... did Bethel have?"

 

"Very few," Amofe said, rubbing a thoughtful hand

along his stubbled jajr'^We could maintain equipment

and manufacture some components for in-system

work. We traded rare foodstuffs and organic molecules

for what little eke we needed. Traders came perhaps

once in a generation. The latest only lastÑ"

 

Joseph swore antiphonally with Gus, Patsy, and

Simeon. Channa snapped her fingers. "They must

have been... what's the phrase?

 

"Casin" the joint," Patsy said for she had a store of

such archaic phrases.

 

"Spies!" Joseph said. Tears welled in his eyes, tears of

pure rage.

 

"Always someone who can be bought," Simeon said,

giving his holo image a wise appearance. Or so info tapes

say, but Tve never had to use that tactic.

 

Joseph nodded jerkily. "I knew several who would

sell their mothers and fathers... maybe their fathers

... for the price of two bottles of arrack."

 

"Back to the here and now, please," Gus said,

boulder-solid.

 

Amos shook his head, sending the long black curls

flying. "We have ... had, very litde high technology,

and of what there was... much was in Keriss."

 

"So they'll be hurting for equipment, possibly for

skilled labor," Simeon said. "They've got to be. Whad-

dya bet that most of those three hundred ships are

transports, factory vessels, that sort of thing. They

wouldn't be self-sufficient even if they have a home

base or star system."

 

"There've always been folk who'd rather steal than

 

158

 

ArmeMcCaffrey &SM. Stating

 

work," Gus said. He had no arguments on that score

from anyone. "And they'll want to steal from us."

 

SSS-900-C was a maintenance and repair center. It

was also heavy with rare materials intended for

shipyard and general shipbuilding use. No one argued

with that, either.      ^

 

Simeon addressed the two refugee leaders. "First, we

have to get them thinking along those" lines. Otherwise

they may simply sweep in and put a couple of high-

yield missiles into us. My plan calls for a sacrifice on

your part that I'm reluctant to ask of you."

 

"Ask," Amos said quietly. "A drowning man will grab

even the point of a sword. I should like to prove worthy

of Guiyon's sacrifice. Ask!"

 

"1 want to tempt them with booty too rich to resist

and get their acquisitive juices flowing. We'll comman-

deer one of the company yachts that salesmen travel in

when they show their samples to rich customers, and

we'll cram its holds full of things the bastards won't be

able to resist. With the promise of much more easily

available Ñ here!"

 

"Such as?** Channa asked suspiciously.

 

"Technological stuff, upgrades in software, in com-

puters, the latest improvements in fuel efficiency. We'll

include luxury fabrics, perfumes, jewelry, exotic

delicacies..."

 

"Bribery will only make them hungrier to sack the

station," Joseph all but shouted, half-rising from his

chair.

 

"Peace, my brother," Amos soothed him, "remember

that sicatooths do not eat grass. One must put out a

goat to bait the trap for them."

 

"See, you don't shoot the cow you're milking," Gus

contributed.

 

"Hell no, you don't eat a pig lahke that all at once,"

Patsy said.

 

Simeon almost laughed aloud to see the puzzled

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

159

 

expressions on the faces of Amos and Joseph. Good one,

Patsy, rememberthat "my brother" fake they pulled onya and

don't let 'em think they can be more obscure than we can.

 

Chaundra explained the humor and only raised his

brows slightly when Joseph asked, "What's a pig?"

Channa herself was¡puAled. She would have expected

the natives of an agricultural world to recognize the

name of an important'farm animal. Her own protein

came out of vats, the way nature intended, as far as she

was concerned. If not literally, then she didn't want to

think about it.

 

"Won't they think it's kinda odd, though, one guy

sellin* so many different things?" Patsy asked.

 

"Not if he's a middle-man type, importer-exporter,

rather than a manufacturer's rep," Simeon said. "It's

not that hard to deceive people once, Patsy."

 

"But we have none of these things you have men-

tioned," Amos said, puzzled. "We have no cloth or jewels

or softwear. What is this sacrifice you would ask of us?"

 

"We need someone to put in the yacht we'll be send-

ing out, and I'm not about to send a living person. I'd

like to send one of your people who died in transit from

ship to station. Preferably someone who died as a result

of the environment failure, since that's why he's going

to be out there in this luxury ship, broadcasting an

offer for a huge reward to anyone who'll rescue him."

 

Amos and Joseph looked shocked. They sat unmov-

ing for a minute, then slowly turned to meet each

other's eyes.

 

"Impossible!" Joseph said, his lips tight with fury.

"What you ask is base sacrilege!"

 

Channa glanced at Simeon's column as though

appealing for help, then plunged in, knowing no

diplomatic way of putting this. "Your funerary customs

are... firmly set?"

 

"Yess!" Joseph hissed. "We honor our dead, we bury

them and revere their resting place."

 

160

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? 5M. Stirling

 

"Well," Simeon told him, "we have no place to bury

our dead here on the station, and it's prohibitively

expensive to ship them back to their home planets. You

can't simply bury them in space because eventually

they constitute a navigation hazard. Here we cremate

our dead."  =*>

 

"And the ashes?" Amos asked.

 

"Unless specifically requested, there are no ashes."

 

Amos bowed his head. "For bur dead, we request

ashes, so that one day, hopefully, we might return our

friends to Bethel. As to your ... your appeal for the

body of one of ours, I thirik, my brother," and he

turned to Joseph, "that we should consider that an

honor to serve is being offered one of our dead rather

than sacrilege. Surely, whoever we choose, would have

been pleased to be of help to those who survived."

 

"Itis wrong!" Joseph said. "And I object!"

 

"My brother," Amos said through gritted teeth, "if

you angle with a straight hook, only those fish which

are willing get on it. Be reasonable, or we may all be

dead. It is only a hope, a possibility we are offered. If

they destroy this decoy, they will then destroy the sta-

tion and we will join our friends who are dead and we

can all go unburied forever." He stared at his com-

panion until, after a long moment, Joseph lowered his

eyes and nodded. To Simeon, Amos said, "Choose the

person most suitable for this ruse from among our

dead brothers."

 

"Thank you," Simeon said simply, and the others

around the table murmured their thanks as well.

 

"Okay," Channa said, bringing them back to more

immediate concerns, "these pirates come upon this

derelict space-yacht. They hear the message, 'Help,

help, my environment system is down, auggh, I'm

dying, save me and I'll reward you with umpity-zillion

credits.'"

"Right"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

161

 

"They give him a buzz, no answer, so they bip on

over to his craft and board it"

 

"Right"

 

"They find Ñ whomeverÑseveral days dead due to

environment failure/

 

"Right/*      "   ~    *

 

"Why don't theyjust hold their noses and sail on?"

 

"Urn, well^first, itls the nature of pirates to be greedy.

So we'll pile the ship high with cases of samples, clearly

marked samples, dearly marked as coming from SSS-

900-C. Second; no one likes to go back to their senior

officer and say, 'It was a total waste of time, sir,' because

it makes them look bad in their captain's eyes. So I think

we can expect them to make at least a cursory search of

the ship. Third, there'll be a curiosity factor, since I

plan to choose the most opulent yacht in the area.

These guys probably haven't seen anything like it

hanging around the out-systems.

 

"So they'll probably be crawling all over it saying, 'I

can't believe it! Look at this! Whatluxury!' One of these

factors will attract their attention to the com screen,

which will show a report our salesman was inputing

when disaster struck. It will say something to the effect

ofOJrabjwus day, fvejust made the biggest sale of my career to

the SSS-900-C. Tve promised them delivery in fourteen days or

less. The home office has confirmed the delivery date. Order

manifestfoUows. Hooray, hooray, bounce bounce!

 

"And there will be a listing that would make me drool

and want to turn pirate."

 

Gus nodded. "It sounds do-able, though I hate to

spare even one ship from the evacuation effort."

 

"I can understand that, Gus, but balance the dozen

or so who could be evacuated on the yacht against the

fifteen thousand plus people at risk on the station, and

I think the sacrifice is justified," Simeon replied. Seeing

that he had his audience listening very carefully, he

went on. "Now, to prepare the rest of the station for

 

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Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. Stating

 

pirate-fell, I want all irreplaceable equipment discon-

nected and hidden, or ifit can't be moved, I want it

disguised or dismantled with no spare parts visible. All

menus on all computer terminals will be changed. I

intend to make them as confusing and difficult to

understand as possible, in order to entourage any out-

sider using our equipment to make as many horrible

and damaging mistakes as possible. We'll need to have

the emergency crews on alert at all times."

 

Twenty glum faces surrounded the table.

 

"Just a minute," Channa said slowly. "You're sug-

gesting we let these... these/tends occupy the station?"

 

"We can't stop them," Simeon explained patiently. "We

can't stop a single real warship from sinking a missile into

the station's equator and blowing all fifteen thousand of us

to MC-squared. I don't like it either, Channa. But we have

to keep them from doing too much damage until the Navy

gets hereÑand we know the time frame on that If we can

confoozle them long enough so the Navy can catch 'em,

that'll solve how to get rid of them.

 

"Once they make a few disastrous mistakes, they'll

prefer to use our people. Why should they break their

brains trying to learn how to run a station they'll only

be occupying until they can loot it empty? I want our

people, not theirs, in sensitive positions. No matter

how it looks to them, I want real control of the station to

remain in our hands. I'm willing to take a few risks to

gain that advantage."

 

"Oh," Channa said carefully. "Sounds reasonable."

 

"Doctor Chaundra, you're really going to hate this

one."

 

"You want me to make people sick."

 

"Got it in one. How'd you guess?"

 

"I assume that you know I didn't become a physician

because I enjoy watching people suffer," he said calmly.

"I will not kill. Otherwise, who do you want me to do it

to and why do you want me to do it?"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

163

 

"I want Co be able to declare a class-two quarantine,

make them reluctant to enter the living quarters. We

can't keep them out entirely unless we declare that a

deadly disease is rampant on the station, in which case,

we might as well blow the place ourselves and spare them

the missile. I'd like to fee the infirmary littered with

volunteers groaning in misery, for authenticity's sake.

But, most important^ want every one of the pirates who

enters the living area to walk out with whatever bug

you're using in his or her system doing what it does best

Fairly soon, tJieyTl get the idea they should confine their

communications with stationers to holocasts."

 

Chaundra wore a crooked smile. "Leper, unclean,

unclean," he said in a singsong voice. Patsy was the

only one at the table who understood his reference, but

Simeon did, too. Then Chaundra shook his head. "Too

little time to fake that particular disease. So! Agreed, I

will search for a suitable virus. We can synthesize readi-

ly Ñ but we must hope the . . . Kolnari? have

inadequate medics and no equivalent facilities."

 

"Patsy?" Simeon began.

 

"Yo, lover."

 

"As soon as we've got some data of a physical nature

on these fiends, I would appreciate it if you could come

up with some spore, or pollen or mixture of gases that

would make our anticipated visitors real unhappy. If

you can arrange to afflict their ships only, and not the

station, I'll like it even better."

 

"Oh, Simeon, an opportunity! You do love me,

doncha honey?"

 

"First and always, sweetpea."

 

*'Aw, blush." She consulted her keyboard.

"Allergies'd be a good bet. They're pretty dam' specific

in groups with low genetic divers'ty. Once we get some

tissue samples,yeeehahl"

 

"Seriously, we can evacuate people or critical supplies

like mining explosives, but not both," Channa said.

 

164

 

Anne McCaffny &? SM. Stating

 

"I was just coming to that We'll have to leave some in

the stores or it would look odd. After all, we are a sup-

ply center. But I want as much of that particular

commodity relabeled, rerouted, or hidden wherever.

We should leave, maybe, four percent below the lowest

reserves we've ever recorded. Have the records show

that we're between shipments, the additional four per-

cent shortage of explodables is .because we used some

of the stores to blow up the colony ship." Simeon saw

no point in giving the Kolnari free weapons. Td like to

do the same with food and medical supplies as well.

Any questions?"

 

"Yeah," one of the supply officers spoke up,

"where are we gonna pitt all this stuff, particularly the

explosives?"

 

"You get it together," Simeon said, "I'll tell you

where. Right now, let's work out what supplies the

evacuation ships will need and I want you to start pull-

ing together those tasty goods we're going to use to

tempt the . . . sicatooth."

 

"You got it," the woman said.

 

"We, too, would like to serve," Amos said earnestly,

"in any way that we can. Ask and we will aid you to the

best of our ability.

 

, Simeon thought

 

Amos continued. "It is to our great shame that we

have brought this terror down upon you. Better that

we had all died..."

 

"Shut up!** Channa snapped, the verbal equivalent of

a slap to a hysteric. "How dare you say that? All Hves are

precious. Guiyon thought so. He recognized that he

must save as many of you as he could and he did. Stop

beating your chests. YouTl only get more bruises. For all

we know, they might have come this way anyhow."

 

"You have been harbingers, and though such aren't

much appreciated, I'd like to say now that I, Simeon,

 

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

 

165

 

SSS-900-C, am grateful to you, and particularly to...

Guiyon. If you'd all died at Bethel, no one in this sector

would have known of the Kolnari and how they

operate." Simeon paused. "I gather they operate on a

scorched earth policy?" When the two Bethelites looked

puzzled, he addedgenfly, "They dear away all traces that

they've been there? That anyone's been on that planet?

Hmm. Thought so.£&n't leave dues behind if they want

to keep on cutting their swath of destruction."

 

Simeon caught an,odd sound coming from Joseph

and did a quick enlargement of the man's fece. Tlie

Bethelite was actually grinding his teeth. Amos' blue

eyes dulled with the pain of his own thoughts on the

subject of total annihilation.

 

By now that concept was dawning on three or four

stationers and their expressions reflected their shock.

Piracy and looting were bad enough, but these Kolnari

had gotten away with implied multiple acts of

genocide.

 

"Central and the Navy are receiving hourly update

blips," Simeon went on to provide what reassurance he

could that SSS-900 was already ahead of the Kolnari on

the dice roll. M Bethel will have retribution, if not

blanket reparations when the accounting is rendered.

You've saved not only yourselves, but us and what's left

of your world."

 

M 'He who fights and ...' " Diplomatically Channa

edited the old adage slight" '... escapes away! lives to

fight another day.'" She even made it rhyme. She went

on firmly. "Dying would just..." She waved her hands,

racking her mind for the right words.

 

"Would be wasteful suicide," Simeon concluded for

her. "And allow the Kolnari to sweep the board." He

caught Channa's little grimace over his constant use of

war-gaming terminology.

 

"Exactly, and you can't let those . . ." Again she

fumbled for a dire enough epithet

 

166

 

Anne McCaffrey fcf 5M. Stirling

 

"Black-hearted sons of bitches?" Simeon offered.

Nice combination of informality and traditional epithet,

pleased with himself.

 

"Thank you ... black-hearted sons of bitches go on

killing and stealing. So, if you want to wish somebody

dead, wish it on them" Channa finished, thumping the

table with a fist for emphasis.

 

Amos smiled in chagrin. "You have burnt away my

weakness with your fiery speech, beautiful lady. I shall

direct my hatred towards our mutual enemy."

 

"Fine! Glad that's been settled. Now I'm going to

adjourn this meeting," Simeon said, "Channa and I have

to address the ships' captains in two hours and you all

have plenty to do. I'd like progress reports every six

hours from everyone, please. You may contact me at any

time with any difficulties encountered. Amos, would you

be good enough to accompany Doctor Chaundra to the

morgue to choose our decoy. He'll also assist you with

proper funeral arrangements for the other victims."

 

Amos nodded solemnly. Chaundra put his hand sym-

pathetically on the younger man's shoulder, powered up

the fioatchair, and they left the lounge together. Joseph's

float, activated by one of the guards, started back to the

infirmary. The station officers bustled off, no one of a

mind to chat or rehash the meeting. Only Channa

remained, staring off, her eyes unfocused.

 

"I take it back."

 

"What?"

 

"At the moment, I'm deeply and utterly grateful that

you chose to study war instead of romance."

 

"There goes another one," Simeon said glumly.

 

A spot crawled through the plotting tank Simeon

was screening on one wall of the lounge, trundling out

of SSS-900-C's vicinity and heading for the low-mass

zone and its interstellar transit.

 

"How did they find out?" Channa said.

 

"That's the Herod's Dream. She's an independent.

One of those merchant-family ships that kick around

the fringes, picking up stuff that's not worth the big

outfits* while. They don't have to be told about trouble.

They can smell it"

 

"I suppose it's understandable. They've sunk their

savings in their ships which produce their livelihood."

Channa sighed tolerantly. "What about the others?"

 

"They should be..." He broke off "By Ghu!"

 

Channa also heard the tramp ofboots in the hall and

swiveled in her chair as a half-dozen variously dressed

figures swung into the meeting room.

 

They may well head out again faster than they came in,

Simeon thought as he watched captains file into the

room in pairs, or clumps, or singly. As motley a crew as

ever docked here. Shipsuits were designed to be comfort-

able under a pressure outfit. From there on,

individuality was often loudly or vulgarly expressed by

adjustments to that basic attire. For instance, the

woman with the shaved, tattooed skull wore a par-

ticularly vile shade of pinkish blue that wasn't the least

bit becoming Ñ if highly visible. The two nonhumans

didn't need to be anything but themselves to fit in with

 

168

 

Aime McCaffrey tfS-Af. Stirting

 

the other surly faces. They know something's up, but at least

they came to listen, unlike those who scampered.

 

What the hell, he thought with a mental sigh, well use

what we've got and be glad we've got it to use.

 

As the captains began to fill the room, few taking

chairs at the table, Channa, looking&r too elegant in a

light blue suit, had gone to the head of the conference

table. When a minute had passed with no new arrivals,

she opened her notescreen on the podium and looked

out at the assembled captains, waiting for them to set-

tle. Especially after a couple of Vicker's part-time police

appeared just beyond the entrance, with breather

masks and gas projectors as well as shock rods and dart

guns. Channa made a note to remind Vicker that the

enemy was not yet here and not to make enemies out of

anyone else just now.

 

"Thank you all for coming," she said.

 

You're probably wondering why fve catted you here today,

Simeon thought, anticipating Channa's opening

words.

 

"No doubt you're wondering why we've asked you

here," Channa said.

 

Close, but no cigar

 

"Station SSS-900-C is currently involved in an emer-

gency. I am Channa Hap, brawn to Simeon and we are

invoking section two, article two of the station's

charter." Which she tried to read out so that everyone

knew the station had the right to commandeer their

vessels,

 

A roar, surprisingly loud from so few throats though

the non-humans helped a lot, swelled through the

room, drowning her out. An occasional "whereas" or

"said captain" were all that could be heard.

 

Let 'emget it out of their systems, Simeon thought It was

understandableÑbreaking schedule would be expen-

sive, particularly for the small companies and the

independents. Hopefully they'd be more cooperative

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

169

 

afterwards. In any case, he had control of them all,

either because their ships docked to the station or their

skippers were attending this meeting. And nobody was

going to leave without accepting an assignment Not a

single captain here had an ounce of altruism, but sta-

tion vouchers would!* valid anywhere on their routes.

There'd be insurance when the dust settled but,

psychologically, neither voucher or insurance-when-it-

might-be-paid was as comforting as cash-in-hand.

 

At last they wound down. Simeon turned his volume

up to an almost painful level

 

"Sit down, please."

 

The mechanical roar filled the room. He added sub-

sonics that ought to make the humans feel uncertain

and cowed.

 

"Now that I have your complete attention," he said

suavely, adjusting to a more bearable level, "I'd like to

remind you that we have duly declared an emergency."

 

He paused and examined the defiant, angry faces.

"The station is expecting to be under attack shortly."

 

Another roar, this time of fear.

 

"SHUT UP." A second's pause. "Thank you very

much. We're all in this together. Except that you

gentlebeings are going to get away safely, which is more

than the rest of us can look forward to. Please keep that

in mind.

 

"Now," he went on, "we're going to evacuate

everyone we can; children under twelve and pregnant

women first, of course. They number eight hundred,

give or take a few." Not all that many, but passenger

facilities on freighters were generally nonexistent or

cramped cubicles. Adding any more bodies would

make a voyage of weeks uncomfortable, but would at

least keep life in those bodies. "I want to reduce all the

edible supplies on the station, so commissary is advised

to stock you up to your comtowers." There was a mur-

mur of appreciation. "However, at this moment in

 

170

 

AtmeMcCaffny&SM. Stating

 

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

 

171

 

time, I cannot guarantee full compensation for cargo or

non-delivery fines. I'd like to and you'll probably get it,

but I can't guarantee it."

 

*Just a damn minute!" a stocky captain with a

bulldog face roared. "Who's attacking the station?

We're three month's transit time fr&n any trouble, and

that's minor."

 

"Pirates," Simeon said succinctly and that one word

was sufficient to cause sturdy captains, and even one

nonhuman, to pale. He waited as accusations and

counter-accusations bounced about the hall, noticing

hands going to belts that were, by station regulation,

empty of accustomed defensive implements. This time

it was Channa who brought them back to order.

 

Adjusting the volume on her microphone to the

highest notch, she bellowed, "SIT DOWN!"

 

"As you were," Simeon said sweedy. "Could we con-

sider any further riots as done and noted, and not

waste valuable escape time? As I started to explain, a

complement of four, heavily armed, pirate ships were

in pursuit of the colony ship that... ah... docked here

yesterday. Having ascertained details from the sur-

vivors of that vessel, we are reliably informed that these

pirates were in hot pursuit We are given the distinct

impression that these pirates will either destroy the sta-

tion immediately, or strip it of everything valuable and

then destroy it We have to evacuate as many as possible,

which isn't that many, even if you are generous in your

assistance. But you're all we have to save as many as we

can. Sorry."

 

"You're sorry?" the bulldog was on his feet again.

"You're sorry! I'm supposed to leave my cargo behind

for pirates and you're sorry? Well, Fm sorry, too, cause

'sorry* don't pay no bills!"

 

"Captain ... Bolist," Channa said smoothly, check-

ing the list on her notescreen, "you're telling me that a

cargo of,.. chemical salts is more important to you

 

than saving the lives of forty children, which is the

umber that can be accommodated on the size of vessel

you command?"

 

The man lowered his head, like a bull considering a

charge. "Ms. Hap, me and mine worked for forty years

to get the Gunf /fo.T*(e're still paying off our loans.

Losing a major cargoÑwell pay forfeits if we don't get

the load to Kobawasltfet FillesÑcould break us. Then

we'll be on the beach. Hell, I like kids s'much as the

next guy, but a man's gotta live."

 

"Well, then, Captain, you'll be pleased to know that

children are much lighter than chemical salts.

Exchanging one for the other should get you well out

of the danger zone in excellent time." Channa gave

him a pleasant smile, and held his gaze until the man's

eyes dropped. "Yes, you have a question?" And she

pointed to the shaven, tattooed captain who had

leaped to her feet, waving both hands to be heard.

 

When the question of how to deal with pregnant

women giving birth on her ship was satisfactorily set-

ded by assuring her of a trained medic in her

consignment, she subsided.

 

In the end, all capitulated, but nine begged a few

hours' leeway to ditch and buoy-mark such cargoes

that a period in space wouldn't damage beyond use.

 

"Phew," Simeon said as the captains walked out.

"That was unpleasant."

 

"Not by comparison," Channa said grimly.

 

"Comparison to what?"

 

"Announcing it to the station," she said.

 

"Oh."

 

"You are shitting me, Joat," Seld Chaundra said

scornfully. "Pirates! What do you think I am? A play-

school kid?"

 

Ks, Joat thought. "I am not lying, shit-for-brains,"

she said.

 

1

 

172

 

AmieMcCaftrty& SM. Stirling

 

They were in Seld's quarters, which were comprised

of a bedroom and study, off his father's suite near the

main sickbay in North Sphere. The study was

crammed with ship models and holoposters, most of

them from travel catalogues but a few from adventure

serials. Joat particularly liked the ofee of the bug-eyed

man screaming in the jaws of one fanged head of a

three-headed monster which waved him above the

rubble of a burning building. Curiously enough, the

man resembled the captain who had won her from her

uncle.

 

"Gimme another bar," she added. Seld flipped it

over from the sofa w^here he sprawled. Joat caught it

out of midair and discarded the wrapper on the floor.

Seld winced but said nothing.

 

"How can you eat so many of those things?" he asked

as she gobbled it

 

"Gotta eat 'em while the getting's good," she replied,

chewing with her mouth open. He winced again. He's a

wuss, she thought. "Anyway, they're supposed to be

here soon."

"Suuuuure."

 

Suddenly Seld was tumbled backward against the

back of the sofa. He gave a strangled squawk as Joat's

thin strong hands, crossed at the wrist, gripped his

jacket below the throat. Her bony knuckles dug pain-

fully into his windpipe. He couldn't breathe at all, as

she was also kneeling on his stomach.

"Look, you wuss Ñ"

"I am not a wuss!" he wheezed.

"Ñ and I am not shitting you! Here." She let him up,

marched over to his work table and slapped a chip on

the receiver plate of his screen. It lit, showing the con-

trol lounge and Simeon's pillar, the shouting captains

surging around it

 

Seld listened open-mouthed. "Pirates," he concurred

weakly. "Hey! That's private, you stole that chip!"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

173

 

"Did not, just jacked the feed and copied it"

 

"Unauthorized copying is stealing, Joat. And

eavesdropping on official meetings is..." Seld trailed

off, unable to identify the offense though he knew it

must be one.

 

fordting wuss, shethbilght He sounds just like fas father

¥when he says things lifo 'that. Yet his father was a lot nicer

than hers had been.,Her memories of paternal care

were the kind you woke up at night sweating from.

Hopefully he was dead from Jeleb nightmare-smoke

by now. Her uncle had been worse, after he took her

over, but at least she knew her uncle was dead. She

pushed such thoughts aside as time wasters.

 

"Okay, I'm a Sondee mud-puppy eavesdropper and

data-banditÑso listen to what they're saying, will you?"

 

Seld blinked and did so. "Holy shit," he whispered.

"We are going to be attacked by pirates." His eyes lit.

"Hey, Joat, this is like a holo."

 

Joat kicked him.

 

"What did you do that for?" he demanded,

outraged.

 

"Because I like you, fool," she said.

 

"You do?" he said, straightening up and then winc-

ing. "Hell of a way to show it, ferdler."

 

"Fardler yourself. This ain't no holo, Seld. Those

pirates, those Kolnari, are for real. Half the outies on

that ship that nearly dipped the station were dead, osco.

That's d-e-a-d, dead, finished, off to the big tax-haven

in the afterglow, dead. This is major criminal we're talk-

ing, Seld. Like, we could get seriously fardled up Ñ

you, me, Simeon, Channa, your dad."

 

"Yeah," Seld said, in a small voice, looking totally

scared. "But what can we do?" That word came wob-

bling out as Seld tried not to show Joat how tightened

he really was.

 

"Come close and listen to momma," she said.

"Simeon has some ideas. I got more."

 

174

 

Anne McCaffny fcf SM. Stirling

 

***

 

Rachel bint Damscus sat and shivered on the edge of

the bed. There was nothing under it. Not even legs to

hold it up, just some sort of field mechanism, yet it did

not move. She shivered again, looking down at the pill

in her hand. The strange dark man1 they called Doctor

Chaundra had given it to her, saving that it would

make her feel better. She didn't want to feel better. She

wanted to feel pain, because pain told her she was still

alive.

 

Her eyes flicked around the little cubicle. There was

a sink in the corner. She darted to it and threw the pill

down the drain, scrabbling at the unfamiliar controls

until a gush of water followed it. Then she scrambled

back to the bed, humiliatingly conscious of how the

thin hospital gown revealed her body. Conscious also

of the emotions roiling beneath the surface of her

mind, like great boulders grinding and moving in the

dark....

 

/ wish I was home, she thought desolately. But home

was gone, further than all the light-years between this

accursed place and the sun Saffron. Home had been in

Keriss... Keriss was poisoned dust floating in Bethel's

skies. Mother, she thought, father. Little sister Delilah.

 

Most of the other Bethelites who escaped had been

from the Sierra Nueva lands. Amos' family had been

direct descendants of the Prophet, members of the

Synod of Patriarchs for twenty generations. They had

owned the city of Elkbre outright and tens of

thousands of square kilometers around it. And they

had always been an enlightened family, as much as any,

more than most. Hence, the Second Revelation had

spread widely there. Rachel had come to it late. After I

heard Amos speak, she thought, burying her face in her

hands. He was like the Prophet come again. A new voice,

sweeping away the intolerable stuffy load of conven-

tion. And he is so beautiftd....

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

175

 

The partition door opened. Joseph came through

first, one hand under the flap of his jacket as was his

custom- Amos followed, and Rachel flung herself for-

ward into his arms, gripping him fiercely. It was a

moment before she felt the awkwardness with which

he pattediier back. Site withdrew, clutching at the

gown. That only emphasized its skimpiness, and she

flushed deeply, looking down at the floor.

 

"Pardon, excellent sir," she said.

 

He made a dismissive gesture. "No need to be for-

mal, Rachel," hesaid. "You are well?"

 

"Relieved," she said. "They would only say that you

would return, but not where you had been taken or

why. Where have you been?" She raised her eyes

anxiously to his fece.

 

He hesitated for a moment 'Joseph and I have been

meeting with the station managers. We have arranged a

funeral service for those who died on our journey here.**

 

She turned aside to spare his embarrassment. "They

are not to be trusted."

 

"What do you mean, Rachel?" His tone was

apprehensive but also stern.

 

"Nothing, yet," she said sullenly, hanging her head.

Then she grasped his wrist painfully tight, meeting his

eyes earnestly. "But who knows? They are mezamerin."

Strangers. In the ancient liturgical language, infidel.

 

"Rachel, do not start parroting the Elders at this late

date," Joseph said in exasperation. More gently, he put a

hand on her shoulder. "Did you take the medication?"

 

"Yes," she said brusquely, shrugging off bis hand.

Then she turned to Amos with a sigh. "I am sorry,

Excell...Amos."

 

The memory swept over her again: the crowded

chamber and the sickly-sweet taste at the back of her

mouth as the coldsleep injection took effect

 

"I... thought I had died, when I woke here," she

said. "My father... did I tell you?"

 

176

 

Anru McCa/jrey fc? 5M. Stiriing

 

"No," Amos said, taking her hand. His large dark-

blue eyes held a sudden compassion. "He cursed you?"

 

"Yes. When I left home to follow you, he put the

Patriarch's curse upon me: hell, and miserable rebirth,

and damnation again, forever."

 

Amos blanched slighdy for, though his father had

been disappointed in his son, even appalled by his son's

apostasy, he had not uttered th^-curse. Perhaps that

would have come about had his father not died during

Amos' early teens. If I had been cursed? Perhaps that was

why I, fatherless, could become the leader of the Second Revela-

tion, he thought. What courage my followers had, to dare the

curse for me!

 

"I thought I was damned indeed," she whispered.

"Since I awoke ... I... I really do not feel myself,

Amos."

 

"It is to be expected," he said, patting her cheek.

"You will feel better soon."

 

"And did you tell them of what follows us?" she

asked, blurting out the words since his touch had given

her the courage to speak them. "Have they defenses?"

 

Joseph had been brooding, facing slightly away.

Now he laughed bitterly. "Defenses? These people are

as open as a canal-side harlot"

 

Rachel drew a shocked breath.

 

"You forget yourself, Joseph," Amos said as Rachel

drew closer to his side, an instinctive move toward his

protection. "There is a lady present."

 

The shorter man bowed. "Apologies, Excellent Sir,"

he replied stiffly. A deeper bow." My lady."

 

"I cast your own words back, my brother Ñ do not

imitate the Elders," Amos said. Unnoticed, Rachel

stiffened.

 

"Is it true?" she said. "They have no defenses?"

 

Amos nodded, his mouth drawn into a line. "Yes.

These are peaceful people, as we were. Fortunately,

they are in communication with the Navy of the

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

177

 

Central Worlds. Unfortunately, the Kolnari will be

here before that help arrives."

 

Rachel gasped. "How can we flee Scorn here?"

 

"We cannot," Amos replied, shrugging away the

chance of flight. "There are ships, but they are small

and have no facilities f&r passengers. Children, those

with child, and the infirm are to be evacuated. The rest

of us must remain here and seek to delay the enemy."

 

They will know us!" she said in a trembling voice.

 

Joseph shook his head. "I think not, Lady bint

Damscus," he said formally. "Not in this place, and

among such as inhabit it. Already we have seen more

races of men than I knew existed outside legend. Some

very different customs," he pulled his mouth down in

disapproval, "and non-men as well."

 

Rachel's eyes went wide. The most cogent incentive

for the Exodus to Bethel had been the Prophet's deter-

mination not to pollute the pure blood by congress

with non-humans. Nonhuman intelligence was the

creation of Shaithen, whether flesh or machine.

 

Joseph made a soothing gesture. "They are not

rulers here. Still, among so many and so various, our

handful will disappear and not be remarked by the

Kolnari for what we are. The fiends must believe that

they strike without warning, that no help will be called

to this station. So they will wait, thinking to feast at their

ease. Then the warships will come, to rescue us Ñ and

return us to our poor Bethel."

 

"Yes," she said, thoughtfully. "I had not thought of

... returning."

 

"In a sense," Amos began, and her eyes snapped back

to him with a fixed attention, "we have won the war. Now

we must try to survive it Please, Rachel my sister, would

you go among the other women and children? They are

awakening, and will be lost and frightened. Prepare

those who are eligible to leave here."

 

MI obey, Amos." She looked around, realizing that

 

178

 

Arme McCaffny 67 SM. Stirling

 

she could not go even among women and children of

her own people in what she wore.

 

Joseph opened one of the closets and handed her a

large, shapeless robe. Rachel nodded a distant thanks

before she donned it and left, thej|ull folds sweeping

behind her.

 

"We have something we shares-she and I," Joseph

said bitterly, throwing himself down in his float chair.

Even his solid bulk did not make it bob on its support-

ing field. Amos noted the feet and filed it

 

7 must make a quick review^he thought. Find what tech-

nologies have arisen during our isolation on Bethel. Whatever

supports the chaircould be altered to support otherheavyweights.

 

"What do you share?" he asked the other man.

 

"We both aspire above our stations, she and I,"

Joseph replied.

 

Amos blinked in surprise. "Oh," he said after a

moment. "Sits the wind so? I had thought her merely

devoted to the cause."

 

"So she is, but that is not the whole story."

 

"Even if we followed the old customs, I would not

take her even as a second wife," he said with a dismis-

sive shrug. "Since I have not even a first, speculation is

useless." Then he raised one eyebrow. "You have not

pressed your suit?"

 

"Was there time?" Joseph asked rhetorically. Then

he sighed. "Amos, could you see me going to her father

for permission? Bastard son of a whore and a docksidepimp

he would have called me, whether he had disowned

her or no Ñ and it would be no more than the truth."

 

Amos laughed grimly and thumped his follower on

the shoulder. "Joseph, my brother, you are a bold man

who has saved my life more than once. But there are

times when you allow your birth to blind you as much

as any hidebound Elder."

 

At Joseph's puzzled look, he continued. "Joseph,

where did Rachel's father live?"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

179

 

"KerissÑah! I see."

 

"Where did the Elders live, for the most part?"

 

"Keriss Ñ and those that did not, they were in the

city for the council meeting," Joseph said. "You have

had rime to think,_eh?"

 

"It is necessary tfiat*someone do so," Amos said. "We

of the Second Revelation were planning to leave, to

escape the bonds-of customs gone sterile in their

changelessness, Joseph. When Ñ ifÑ we return to

Bethel with the Space Navy at our backs, very litde will

remain unchanged after what the Kolnari have done.

God has given us a sharp lesson. If we ignore the

universe, the universe will not necessarily ignore us.

And on Bethel... the last shall be first, and the first,

last; that at the very least.

 

"Furthermore," he went on, with a man-to-man

grin, "I now stand in her father's place, in law. I hereby

formally give you leave to press your suit, and for the

marriage portion, I will dower her with the Gazelle

Rancho at Twin Springs."

 

Joseph's laughter matched his leader's. "I may press,

but I doubt she notices my existence," he said. "Con-

sent may be as far away as the Rancho." A pause.

"Although that is where I would take her to live, if we

were wed and our cause victorious. She is stronger

than she suspects, I think Ñ but her liking for the new

ways you preach is of the head, not here." He touched

his heart. "As lady of an estate, there would she be

happy. She would not thrive among strangers."

 

CHAPTER

 

TJN

 

"Detection. Ship track."

 

Belazir t'Marid looked up from his crash couch

wjiere he had been rerunning a tactical manual on the

screen.

 

"What signature?" he said.

 

"Ion track, very feint," Baila said. "Could have been

weeks ago."

 

Belazir ran his hand through the long blond mane of

his hair and cursed inwardly. The second m two days, he

thought They were getting into well-traveled space,

despite the feet that their data showed little or no setde-

ment in this area. The centuries-old Grand Survey

reports listed no inhabitable planets, although there

was a nebula with potentially valuable minerals. There

must be a regular traffic now, perhaps habitats or small

space colonies. Dangerous, very dangerous.

 

A time would come when the Kolnari would not

have to skulk around the fringes of known space,

hiding like scavengers. But that time was not yet

 

"Reduce speed," he said. "Pulse message to the con-

sort ships. Keep formation on new vector." Trjat form of

communication was so short-range that it was undetec-

table. "Anything more on the subspace monitors?"

 

"Plenty of nearby traffic, but mostly encrypted," the

intelligence officer said. Belazir nodded. Perfect codes

were an old phenomenon, available to anyone with

decent computers.

 

"And the prey?" he asked.

 

Baila shrugged. As she was almost as well-born as

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

181

 

Belazir, he decided to let the informality pass

unreprimanded. Also, she was daughter to a staff

officer of Chalki/s.

 

"The track is firm'and hot," the woman said. "We

gain, at an increasing rate. Signs of deterioration, as

one would exjSerffrom old engines heavily stressed Ñ

sublimated particles from exterior drive-coils and cool-

ing vanes. She cannot survive much longer."

 

"Much longer, much longer! You've been saying that

for days!" Belazir snarled, starting half-erect. The

junior officer's eyes dropped before the captain's lion

stare. Belazir sank back, satisfied that deference had

been restored.

 

"Transmit to all vessels," he went on. "Maximum

alertness. We strike hard and then we run. Plasma tells

no tales."

 

"Dad, I'm not going," Seld Chaundra flatly told his

fether.

 

The head of SSS-900-C's medical department looked

up in surprise. For a moment, he tried to fit the words into

a context that made sense as his hands continued auto-

matically packing a carry-all for his son's trip. Then he

shook his head. He was very tired. Since the

announcement was made two days ago, there had been

absolute chaos in the station. Literal chaos in some

instances, and sickbay was full of injuries, everything from

carelessness through flare-ups to attempted suicide.

 

"Do not make troubles now, son," he said. "There is

too much to be doing."

 

"I'mnot going, Dad," Seld said again.

 

Gods, but he looks like his mother, the doctor thought

with despair. She had had exactly that set to her jaw

when she decided to stand on an issue of principle. And

I could never convince her of her error when she looked like

that, either. Fortunately, he did not need to convince his

son, who was still a minor.

 

182

 

Arme McCaffrey &? SM. Stirling

 

"Yes," Chaundra said, "you are going. I need SOT you

to go."     '

 

"Well, I need for me to stay!"

 

Chaundra grabbed his son by his upper arms and

shook him gendy. "You're all I've got, Seld. You're the

most important thing in my life ana I've got to keep

you safe.** He pulled out his ace,, "It's what your

mother would have wanted.**

 

Seld's red-headed temper flared and, for the first

time in his twelve years, he contradicted his father. "No,

she wouldn't! She'd say what.I'm gonna say. You're all

Fue got, and if you can't be safe dien I've got to be with

you!"

 

He pulled his son to him in a fierce hug to hide the

sudden glisten of tears in his eyes. Then he sank into

his armchair, covering his eyes with his hand.

 

"Yes," he said thickly, "that's just what she'd say.

But," he pointed a finger at Seld, "she'd be talking

about herself, not about you."

 

"Dad..."

 

"I have packed one change of clothes, two changes of

underwear and one," he held up one finger for

emphasis, "thing you can't bear to part with. I'll be back

in half an hour to walk you to the ship."

 

"Dad!**

 

"Half an hour." He stood and left. There are times

when a man must weep alone.

 

"Joatl" Simeon said in exasperation, "Answer me! I'd

hate to have to send someone in there to flush you

out"

 

He heard laughter echo softly then, from some-

where in the ductwork. Damned tunnel rat, he thought

in exasperation. She had rigged the sensor in her room

to show her present and he was still trying to figure out

how it had been done.

 

"You know they wouldn't find me."

 

THE Cnv WHO FOUGHT

 

183

 

"C'mon Joat, you've got to go. Channa has packed

some of your things. She'll meet you at the lock. You're

one of the lucky ones. You don't have to wear a suit and

travel in the hold for the whole trip."

 

"Hunh. Done it before.*1

 

"Well, you don't haife to do it now. Come on! They're

leaving in fifteen Minutes."

 

"I'm not going." / *

 

"Perhaps I left something out here? Pirates, heavily

armed, almost certain death and destruction? Did I

mention any of those?"

 

"You need me," she said simply.

 

"Yeah," he said slowly after a moment's pause, "but I

think I should do without you for a while.**

 

Joat came into view, grinning. "You are so soft," she

said and shook her head. "You need me because no

adult except you knows this station the way I do." She

crossed her arms smugly. "This is my home, too, and I

want a crack at defending it Besides, I'm not about to

deliver myself to Dorgan the Gorgon." If she's still alive.

Those demonstrators looked mean. "So here I stay!"

 

"Joat, is avoiding Ms. Dorgan and the orphanage

worth risking your life for?"

 

"You better believe it!" That forced an unwilling

chuckle out of Simeon.

 

"Look, Joat, no more kidding. Channa and I are

fighting for our lives. If we have to worry about you,

too, it might make that last little bit of difference and get

us killed. We catitafford distractions from a kid."

 

Joat's lips went white. "You fight dirty," she

whispered.

 

"I fight to win," Simeon replied.

 

"Well* so do ir Joat shouted. "And Vmotive, aren't I?"

She paused for a moment, breathing hard. Then the

urchin grin came back. "I've got an instinct for this

kinda thing. Trust me." She took a step back and

disappeared.

 

184

 

Annt McCaffrfy &?SJlf. Stirimg

 

I wish I knew how she did that, Simeon thought. It

would, come m handy when the Kolnanget here.

 

"Channa's expecting you on Boat Deck!" he called

after her.

 

A voice filtered in from nowhere. "Tell her 1*11 be

seeing her."

 

¥5;

"Detection ... ship detected! Ship detected! Captain to

 

the bridge!"

 

Belazir t'Marid had been kneeling between his wife's

thighs, with a heel in each hand.

 

"Demonshit!" he swore, diving off the pallet and

toward his clothing. The woman Ñ she was his second

wife, and a third cousin Ñ cursed antiphonally, rolling

away in the other direction.

 

"The Divine Seed damn them," she said, hopping

on one leg as she stuck the other into her skinsuit.

 

"Easy for you to say," he snarled and kicked at her,

struggling with the humiliating and acutely uncom-

fortable process of getting into space armor in a state of

arousal. Then he raised his voice. "Battle stations, full

alert Brief me."

 

"One vessel. Approaching on path of our trajectory,

in normal space."

 

"Normal space?" he said. The door hissed away as he

trotted out of his quarters which were aft of the bridge

and one deck down.

 

"Confirmed," Serig said as Belazir stalked into the

bridge. While the captain slept in hostile space, the

executive officer stood the watch. He now rose from

the commander's couch; a squat man for a Kolnar, a

hand below Belazir's height, and muscled like a troll.

"You have the bridge, lord."

 

"Acknowledged." Belazir felt an obscure comfort as he

slid into the crash couch and let his hands fafl on the con-

trols. And that cold plastic catheter has settled my otherprobtem,

he thought with an inward quirk of the tips. "Data."

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

185

 

"Vessel is in the one kiloton mass range." The battle

team was on the bridge now, the circular room

brightening as consoles came up to ready status.

"Neutrino signature indicates merchanter-class

engines, presendy running on ballistic. There may be

energy or-kinedc weaj£>ns, but I detect no triggers for

fusion warheads."

 

"Interesting," Belazir said calmly. "Serig."

 

"Command me, lord."

 

"Indeed. We're going to take a closer look. Prepare

for drop into normal space. Notify the flotilla.**

 

"Lord..."

 

"Yes, yes. The primary mission. We are gaining

swiftly and have the time. Also, if we detect this ship, it

may have detected us." The Kolnari fleet had the best

instruments diey could steal or copy, but there was no

telling how much performance had improved in areas

in close contact with regular shipyards. There had

been one or two nasty surprises like that before in the

Clan's history. "If they have, all the more reason to

investigate and make sure they have no tale to tell

anyone."

 

"Prepare for breakthrough." Alarm chimes tinkled

and sang. "Thirty seconds, mark."

 

A twisting at the fabric of the universe; the view on

the exterior screens did not change Ñ the computers

compensated during FTL running Ñ but a subtle

sense of reality returned, something at the corner of

the mind.

 

Serig's voice spoke beside Belazir. "Lord, we have

her on electromagnetic detectors. No answer to hail-

ing. Shall we use the kinetics?"

 

Their relative velocities were in the thousands of

kps; solid shot would strike with nuclear force.

 

"Not yet," Belazir said thoughtfully. "Give me a

visual."

 

The image sprang out before him a few seconds

 

186

 

Amu McCaffny &? 5M. Stirling

 

later. There was a noticeable lag now that they were

confined to Einstein's universe. A flattened spheroid,

quite a small ship. Fairly fast, from the size of the

exterior coils; neatly made, nearly new. And totally

unarmed, as far as the detectors cguld determine. Cer-

tainly not meant for rapid transit in atmosphere as a

Kolnari warship of that size woul^rbe.

 

"They have a small laser," Serig said. "Meteorite-

clearing type. Apart from that, nothing."

 

"Is she dead?"

 

"The cabin is at sixteen-degrees," he replied, and

touched a control. The screen's image split. A motded

double of the ship appeared, infrared scanning to

show temperatures.

 

"But no reply to our hail," Belazir mused, tugging at

his lower lip. "This is too interesting to pass by. All

ships, establish zero relative velocity and stand by."

 

"Great Lord." The communications officer. "The

Age of Darkness is hailing, imperative code."

 

"Put her through." Belazir nodded to himself; exactly

what he would expect A face that might have been his

brother's flashed into a screen on his couch-arm.

 

"Aragiz tfVarak," the man said. Equal-to-equal greet-

ing, full personal and subdan-name. Socially correct as

the t'Varak were one of the noble gens of the High

Clan, but a military solecism. One of the problems of a

family business.

 

"t'Varak," Belazir said, reminding him of it. In a

social situation, he would have replied with his own fufl

name.

 

"Why are we halting?" Belazir waited. "Sir."

 

"Because there is a potential prize of great value

here," Belazir said mildly. "In any case, we must deal

with it"

 

"A missile is quick." And father Chalku is impatient: the

unspoken thought was plain enough.

 

"A missile is wasteful," Belazir said. He grinned for

 

THE cnr WHO FOUGHT

 

187

 

an instant. Aragiz looked slightly alarmed. "But your

objection is noted. You will not, therefore, insist on

sharing in the prize creditÑyou or your ship."

 

Now Aragiz's face was unreadable black iron. Fool,

the captain of £helMk thought Everyone on the^4gÈ

would be'monitoring mis, as the Bride was broadcasting

in ship-to-ship dear. An intact merchantman could be a

prize of great worth, particularly a new, fast ship,

suitable for conversion to a family transport or an

assault carrier. No matter how well-born or ruthless, a

captain could not afford to alienate the common crew

too badly; not to mention the relatives who would fill

most of the command positions.

 

TVarak had just sharply reduced his chances of sur-

viving to flag rank. Belazir's hand cut off his protests

and the intership screen.

 

"Serig," he said, allowing himself a slight feral smile

of satisfaction. "You will take the assault team. One

boat, three fighters. Full monitor at all times."

 

Serig grinned, white against his ebony face. Being

petit-noble, he could afford such open enjoyment at

the t*Varak's discomfiture.

 

"Perhaps there will be a scumvermin woman

aboard," he said.

 

The lock cycled open.

 

Serig na Marid signed behind himself* on the count of

three. He felt good, loose and easy and fast, the plasma

gun in his hands an extension of his body. Nothing else

felt quite as good as the tension just before combat: not

sex or wealth or satisfied revenge. The knowledge that

his lord would be observing through the helmet pick-

ups was an added bonus. Whatever he accomplished

would not be just another small byte in the chaotic

melee of large-scale destruction: it would be uniquely

his, with commanders and officers on all four ships

watching.

 

188

 

Aime McCaffrey fc? SM. Stirling

 

4Now!'

 

Swiftly, smoothly, the three figures in dark combat

armor swung into the lock. The deck rang under their

boots as they landed in the interior field.

 

"Still no sign of reaction," Seric said. "Field is point

six-three GK." Kolnari gravities, mat was. It was 1.0 G

Terran, the old human standard. "Pressurizing.''

 

Serig dropped to a three-point" stance on the floor,

fingers of his left hand, toes ofboth feet, knees bent Tlie

two ground-fighters were on either side of the airlock.

The inner portal was of standard form, circular, with a

seam down the middle where the leaves met Air hissed

into the lock, and the light went from vacuum-flat to a

warmer, yellow tone. Much like that on some planets he

had seen, although the Kolnari fleet still kept the harsh

brightness of their vanished homework!.

 

-

 

The leaves snapped back. In the same instant Serig

vaulted forward, plasma rifle ready. A single octagonal

corridor lay in front, ending five meters ahead in a

T-junction. He went to ground just before the intersec-

tion and pressed a thumb to the stock of his weapon. A

long stiff thread extended out, and Serig keyed the

image it carried onto his faceplate. More empty cor-

ridor, this time running north-south through the main

axis of the ship. Again octagonal, 2.0 meters in

diameter, with a synthetic fabric covering on the

"down" side and the ceiling; extruded synthetic sides,

luminous at regular intervals, and recessed hatchways.

Another door was at the north end of the corridor with

a keypad, and a duplicate at the south.

 

A careful one second later the two backups leapt past

him, facing either way. They waited in silence, eyes

flickering in trained patterns.

 

"Nothing," Serig said, coming to his feet and walking

into the axial corridor. He glanced down at the

readouts on his gaundet

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

189

 

"Air is Terran-standard basis." Thinner than Kolnar,

but with more oxygen and less sulfurk acid and ozone.

Homeworld had much ozone at the surface, little in the

stratosphere. "Slightly depleted oxygen levels, high

level of necrotic decav products. Wouldn't like to have

to breath'it" * j.

 

"Proceed" Belazir's.voice said.

 

"As you command, lord," Serig replied. In the lan-

guage of Kolnar, that phrase was one word.

"Proceeding up axialcorridor now."

 

Almost all human-made ships still had a notional

"bow" at the north pole, and that was the most com-

mon location for a bridge. Serig directed his

subordinates forward with hand signals. They moved

from one compartment to another, opening each,

checking inside with a vision thread and then going on

to the next

 

"Sensors detect no live presence," Serig reported.

They moved forward again, two covering the one

exposed, up to the small ship's control center. "These

chambers appear to be staterooms, lord, presently

disused."

 

"Better and better," Belazir's voice said. That implied

extensive life-support facilities.

 

The north-end hatch yielded to the same simple

random-number code as the exterior entranceway.

The control chamber was a domed hemisphere with

three couches, only one occupied. It had half-closed

around the pilot's body in a coldsleep cocoon, not fully

deployed.

 

Serig moved to look down at the body.

 

"You were right; a woman," Belazir said dryly.

 

"Not one that appeals to me," his second-in-com-

mand replied. "Tshakiz, get a tissue sample." He was

glad for the filtered, neutral air that flowed through his

helmet

 

The rotting flesh slid greasily away from the probe.

 

190

 

Arm£McCaffrey& SM. Stating

 

Serig looked elsewhere, touching the controls with

slow caution. The shrill accented voice of the Medical

Officer broke in. That was a low-status occupation, arid

the man was the gelded son of a slave mother.

 

"Subject has been dead approximately four days,"

he announced. "Scan, please, my great lords."

 

One of the ground fighters detached a sensor wand

from her belt and ran it slowly frorn head to toe of the

corpse. A minute's silence followed.

 

"Preliminary analysis: death from overdose of

coldsleep drugs, combined with oxygen starvation and

dehydration when cocoon failed to properly deploy."

 

Serig nodded. On single-crewed vessels the pilot

would often use coldsleep, relying on die AI systems to

handle the simple and tedious work of long interstellar

transits. Slightly risky, but it saved lifespan.

 

"Ship systems are live," Serig said. "Cryptography,

please." He punched a jack into the receptor and

waited while the powerful machines on the Bride

worked on the guardian programs of the enemy ship.

"Worm is through. I have control of the computer."

That was simple, he thought. Not much computer

security at all, and...

 

"Ah! Lord? The coldsleep system was sabotaged."

 

"How wicked," Belazir said, and they shared a

chuckle. "Why?"

 

"A moment, lord. Yes, by the dugs of the Dreadful

Mother! This is a commercial courier. The female was

an agent for some merchant house, traveling with

samples. She boasts of making the 'sale of a lifetime' at

her most recent stop, a nexus-station designated SSS-

900-C. Some rival did it"

 

"It was the sale of her lifetime," Belazir said.

 

This time Serig could hear more laughter in the back-

ground. He turned sharply to his assistants. "Nobody told

you to stop working" he barked. "Divine Seed of Kolnar!

Lord, I have accessed the cargo manifest!"

 

THE dry WHO FOUGHT

 

191

 

He could hear Belazir grunt like a man belly-

punched as the figures and data scrolled across to the

Kolnari warships. Computers and computer parts;

engineering software; fabrication systems; drugs;

luxury consumer items, wines, silks...

 

"And lord! Thfe cJrgo compartments have full

climatic controll" *

 

Rigged for the carrying of delicate cargo? That

made the vessel beyond price to the Clan. With

climate-controlled holds, she could be easily and

cheaply rqrigged to hold families or troops in

coldsleep.

 

Belazir's voice grew sardonic. "Captain t'Varak, I

hope you are satisfied." Nothing came over the circuit

but the sound of teeth grinding. One of the other cap-

tains did venture a comment

 

"Does this not seem too much like the answer to a

prayer?" he murmured. "I sacrifice much to my joss

and the ancestors, vessels of the Divine Seed, but..."

The joss help the strongest fist, the saying went

 

"Under other circumstances, Zhengir t'Marid,"

Belazir answered him coolly, MI might agree. But

cousin, who could know we forayed in this direction?

Only those we pursue, and they press forward in a dis-

integrating hulk with no communications capability

since we blew it away." Command snapped in his voice.

"Serig. Secure the ship. Discard the corpse and flush

the environmental systems. Are fungibles adequate?"

 

"More than adequate, Great Lord," Serig said, ham-

mering the glee out of his voice. My gods! My greed! he

thought A full percentage point would be his as noble-

in-command of the boarding party. My lord is well

pleased with me, he decided. He must, to give his bastard

half-brother such an opportunity. Petit-nobles had

been translated to full status for less.

 

"There is plenty of air," he went on. "Surplus water.

The pilot never awoke to renew."

 

192

 

Anne McCaffny fc? 5M. Stirling

 

"Good. Await the prize crew ÑAlyze b'Marid will com-

mand it Ñ and then return. Expedite! We will resume

superluminal in less than an hour, or skin will be

stripped."

 

Alyze was the commander's new third wife. Serig

suspected she might be pregnanl^and Belazir anxious

to have her out of harm's way before even the slight

danger at the end of their chase, He nodded to himself.

Such was good noble thinking, for a man's honor was

in the diffusion of his portion of the Divine Seed.

 

"Hearkening and obedience, lord," he said. And this

SSS-900-C will also be in the path of our pursuit, Serig

thought Iwill light ten sticks to my personal joss in apology.

 

He had kicked the litde idol across his cabin in anger

when he learned they were to be sent on a lootless,

honorless pursuit mission while their comrades and

clanfolk plundered Bethel. It seemed he had been

premature.

 

qdipTERELEVEN

 

"Told ya/'Joat said.

 

"Yes," Seld Chaundra said, turning his head aside.

 

The transit levels of SSS-900-C were still chaotic and

barely-suppressed panic was rampant Squads of weep-

ing children pressed by, herded by an adult with a child in

her arms. A caterpillar of toddlers held on to a cord which

was tethered to a few protesting sub-adolescents.

 

Joat and Seld were off to one side in the shadows of

an access bay. There were many at the upper globe's

north pole, what with the pumping and docking

facilities and the multiple feeds needed. The

housekeeping programs were laboring overtime,

pumping odors of pine, sea-salt and wildflowers into

the air. It still smelled of vomit and unchanged diapers

and fear, and the baffles only muted the roar of voices.

The two teenagers stepped backward as a man wearing

the arm-band of a part-time policeman went by.

 

"I hate running out on my dad like this," Seld said in

achoked voice. "He'sgonnakillmejoat"

 

"No, the pirates may kill you, but all he can do is slap

you around."

 

Shocked, the boy looked up. "Dad never hits me!"

 

"Well, then you've got a pretty good dad, and you're

not running out on him Ñ you're staying with him. 'S

what you wanna do, isn't it?"

 

"Yeah." He turned his face to the wall. "I can't go...

my mom...." he said in a fierce tone. "I never saw her

again... I woke up and she was just... gone."

 

Surprised at herselfÑ she generally hated to touch

 

194

 

AwuMcCaffrey &$M. Stating

 

people Ñ Joat put an awkward arm around his

shoulders. He clutched at her for a moment, sobbing.

 

"Sorry about blubbering," he said after a moment

Then he grew conscious of the bearhug grip he was

exerting, and broke away.     ^

 

" "Salright," Joat said. Somehow it is, she thought, then

flogged her mind back to practifjal matters. "Need a

snot-rag?"

 

"Thanks." He blew noisily on the one which she offered

andthengaveitbacktoher. "What do we do now?"

 

"We get out of sight. Channa's going to go ballistic,

and she's nearly as hard to hide from as Simeon.

Worse, 'cause I can't screw up her sensors."

 

"There she is," he said.

 

Joat's head whipped around. The noise was reach-

ing tidal proportions around the tall lean figure of

Channa Hap. Only the escort of Vicker's security per-

sonnel kept her from being bowled over in the crowd.

She had a canvas carrier bag in one hand. Joat

recognized the foot of the stuffed bear sticking out

one side.

 

"That satisfies the letter of it," she said. "Let's go."

 

Channa stalked into the lounge, opened the door to

Joat's room and flung the canvas bag she carried as

hard as she could against the room's far wall. It made a

solitary spot of disorder in the servo-neat room. Then

she shut the door and walked stiffly to her desk, sat

down and began keying through her messages, back

hunched in rejection.

 

"It's not my fault," Simeon finally ventured to say.

 

She turned slowly to glare at his column.

 

Oooh, Vrnglad this is titanium crystal, Simeon thought.

Now, if only there was something similar available for the

psyche.

 

Just as slowly, just as silendy, Channa turned back to

her console.

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

195

 

Simeon sent her a message that read. "I'm sorry you

had to go through that scene at Disembarkation."

 

Channa let outan exasperated little hiss and slapped

the screen. Simeon's image appeared on it, wincing

realistically. - * *i

 

Unwillingly, a srrule quirked at her mouth. "Simeon,

I would have been tljere anyway, to speak words of

encouragement, to wish well, to shake hands, to show

solidarity." She swung a fist in a go-get-'em gesture.

"But I would have had a lot more credibility if I hadn't

been standing there with an overnight bag in my hand.

Did you see the suspicious looks I got? Half of the

evacuees probably think I'm on one of the other ships.

You could have said something, a quiet word of warn-

ing in my ear, as it were. Then I could have dumped

that damned incriminating bag!" She turned to look at

his column again. "Why wasn't she there?"

 

"She wouldn't go," Simeon said weakly. "Shesaid she'd

see you. I thought she meant there at the Boat Dock."

 

"Yourf^?"

 

"Well, I hoped," Simeon said. "I tried my best to get

her there. Pushed every emotional button I could.

Manipulated shamelessly, you know the way I can."

 

"Or silver-tongued Simeon slips up again, huh?"

 

"I can't exactly get out of my shell and chase her

down and hog-tie her, Channa. She wouldn't go. She

told me that we could never find her in fifteen minutes

and she was right. Even you'd have to agree with that.

Trying to manipulate Joat is like trying to suck liquid

hydrogen through a straw."

 

Channa sighed. "Indeed! But standing there with

that bag was hideously embarrassing for me. Besides, I

really wanted to get her to safety."

 

"I know how you feel," he soothed her. "This sur-

rogate parent stuff is pretty intense." And it was your

idea, he reminded himself. Oddly, he felt no impulse to

remind her. I guess / fi& &, he decided.

 

196

 

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

 

She ground the beds of her hands into red-rimmed

eyes. "I apologize."

 

Well, that's a first. "I accept"

 

"Announce me," Amos ben Sierra Nueva said to the

door.

 

It hinged softly, and he knew it would be turning to a

screen on the interior, showing his image in real-time.

Such things still made him a little nervous. Bethel had

never used much in the way of sophisticated

electronics. Doors there were usually plain honest

wood. He smiled slightly in spite of himself. Here,

wood was an unthinkably expensive luxury, and the

most advanced technology, the stuff of common life. At

least he had been able to dress properly, from the

baggage somebody threw into the shutde at the last

minute. It was demoralizing to look like some

cottonchopper goatherd from the back lands. Loose

black trousers tucked into his boots, silver-link

belt emphasizing the narrow hips, open robe

throwing his broad shoulders into relief. He bowed

ceremoniously as he entered, sweeping off his beret to

Channa.

 

"Come in." Channa's voice was flat and tired as the

door opened, but her face Ht in an inadvertent smile of

welcome.

 

Good, he thought, smiling back. Even in this

desperate hour, it was pleasant to have so exotic and

attractive a woman smile at him. Then he bowed again,

to the column. To Simeon, he forced himself to think.

And tried not to think of the pale deformed thing in

there, among the tubes and neural circuits. Whenever

the image came to him, a slight tinge of nausea accom-

panied it. He was afraid that Simeon could detect his

reaction. He could imagine several sensors that would

make it difficult or impossible to lie to a shellperson.

Guiyon he had never thought of so. Guiyon had always

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHTT

 

197

 

been there in the background, a sympathetic voice

from his earliest days. Guiyon was my friend.

 

"I am sorry to disturb you," he began. "Now that the

most urgent tasks are done, I wish to reiterate my

desire to assist in the coming battle."

 

"When our J5ians art: more solid, I assure you there

will be a place for you in them," Simeon said.

 

Amos's mouth quirked. You mean, when you've figured

out something we can do, he thought

 

"We are not trained as soldiers," he said with a self-

deprecating smile and a shrug. "And we are from a

backward world. But," he raised a finger, "I have

thought of something which you both, being so dose to

the matter, may have overlooked." He glanced from

Simeon to Channa and back again. "It is something

that Guiyon said that makes me think of this.

 

"He said to me, I am one of Central Worlds'most valuable

resources. The Kolnari do not have any brainships in their fleet

and I do not intend to be the first.

 

"Oh," Channa murmured.

 

"Hell," Simeon said. "I knew it but I didn't think of it

Brains are so rare, out in the backlands."

 

"Yes." Amos nodded vigorously. "We must hide the

feet that Simeon exists. Or the/htf thing that the Kol-

nari do will be to cut out Simeon's shell and send it back

to their fleet This must not happen."

 

"Indeed it must not," Simeon said, his voice slow and

flat AH three of them knew what followed from that If

the Kolnari did get their hands on a brain Ñ one

trained in strategy, at that Ñ it would immediately

change them from a wandering pack of scavengers to a

first-rate menace.

 

"Simeon would never Ñ" Channa began hody, then

trailed off.

 

"Yes." Simeon's voice was now as expressionless as a

subroutine robotic. There were dozens of unpleasant

ways of forcing a captive brain to capitulate. The most

 

198

 

AimeMcCaffrey & SJVf. Stating

 

effective was also the worst simply cut offthe exterior sen-

sor feeds which would mean sensory deprivation fugue in

days or less." I tend to forget how... helpless I am, most of

the time," he went on." Forget I'm a cripple, so to speak."

 

"You are not!" Channa blazed.     *

 

Amos blinked at the sight. She seemed to bristle, the

widow's peak of her rusty-brown ^air rising. Iwouldnot

like to have this lady wrathful with me, the Bethelite

thought respectfully.

 

She forced herself to be calm. "Compared to you, we

are cripples, Simeon," she said. "You have a hundred

abilities we lack."

 

"Thank you," he said in more normal tones. "Still,

what Amos says is true. At all costs, we can't let the Kol-

nari get their hands on me."

 

The self-destruct sequence surfaced in the minds of

both brawn and brain, like some monster rising from

the depths of the ocean, with a wave of cold black water

sweeping before it.

 

Amos coughed. "There is a way, I think. We may fool

them. Convince them that there is no brain controller

on this station. If indeed," and his lips peeled back over

his teeth in a nasty grin, "barbarians such as the Kol-

nari even know of such persons.'*

 

Seeing Channa about to speak, he held up his hand

to forestall her. "Do I assume that Simeon's name

appears on far too many documents or news holos or

whatever, for us to hide his very existence? Also, some-

one is sure to lapse and mention the name, thus giving

rise to questions. So," and he gave his cloak a little

flourish, "I have come to offer myself as a false Simeon.

To deceive them." He looked from one to the other

eagerly. "Is this not a good idea?"

 

"It's ..." Channa began, and looked at him with

shining eyes. "It's damn brilliant!" She sprang up and

hugged him for a moment, then began to pace, "^"we

can get the substitution to work."

 

THE cm WHO FOUGHT

 

199

 

"Well, it sure beats suicide," Simeon said, for he had

had to consider that as his only option. "One small

point pops up, Amos. I've been here for forty years,

and you're what, twenty-eight?"

 

"Ah, a valid point tq consider," he said, "but as you

have already pointed pat, during their stay in this sta-

tion, they are unliKely to spend time reviewing its

history. They would have no reason not to accept me as

Channa's assistant. If you feel it is an important con-

cern, we could always tell them that Simeon is a tide, I

could then be the Simeon-Amos."

 

"Yes," Channa said enthusiastically, "we could

pretend it's a traditional title. A position named after

the first person who held it, an honorific! Why would

they check if we say it is so and has always been? And

that ploy would involve jimmying fewer personnel

records Ñ that's a major plus. Especially with people

who've been here a while. Faking that is like trying to

pull one card out of a tower. Every change means more

changes and pretty soon it cascades out of control"

 

"There are the transients," Simeon said meditatively.

"Most of them don't bother about who manages what

so long as they're not inconvenienced. We've pretty

near dispatched so many who do know that the ruse

might just work." Simon began to enlarge the concept

of deception. "Mmm, you know, we could use that old

secondary control center that was on-line when the sta-

tion was being built Before I was installed here. These

quarters don't look much like an office. We could say

this is a living accommodation."

 

"Ah! Then you accept my offer as impostor," cried

Amos. "Excellent! I shall move here as soon as you

require me. Until then, I'd like to remain with my

people. If you do not mind a companion in your lovely

rooms?" he asked, turning swiftly to Channa, con-

cerned that he also might have offended her with his

presumption.

 

200

 

Amu McCaffiny &SM. SMmg

 

~We*H let you know when," she said, a litde dazed.

"Of course," he said. He took her hand and kissed it

tenderly, smiled in Simeon's direction, and left.

 

Channa stared at the closed doors for a moment,

then turned to Simeon's shaft "Excuse me, but did we

just accept his offer?" ^ ;

 

"Well, not exactly, but we didn't say no."

 

"I noticed that. Why not, I wonder?"

 

Simeon was a little amused at the idea of Channa

being bowled over by another personality. "Hmm.

Maybe because we agree with him?" Slyly: "Or it could

be die pheromones, in your case, Happy baby."

 

Channa bridled and threw a cushion at the column,

"Get serious. It is a good idea, even if I didn't think of it

first You have to be protected from the Kolnari."

 

"\es," he said, enduring excruciating embarrassment

at that truth. "Nor can I see any reason not to take him up

on his offer. Maybe having an outsider dose to our coun-

sels will keep us on our toes, so to speak."

 

Channa gave a litde grunt "As I said, it's a good idea,

but on second thoughts, why Aim? He'd have to learn a

lot in very little time to sound as if he knew what he'd

been doing all this time. I still have trouble finding my

way around, and I not only grew up on a station, I had

time to study the layout of die SSS-900 before I came

here. Why not someone from the station? Someone we

know and have confidence in?"

 

"I think we can have confidence in him, Channa,"

Simeon said thoughtfully.

 

"Hunh! Based on what?" she asked challengingly,

hands on her hips.

 

"Authority usually stems from character, Channa. I've

been watching him with his people, and there's no doubt

that he's the man in charge. TTiey look at him the way

that people look at someone they can depend on. Con-

sider the shocks they've all been through, especially him.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

201

 

Don't forget he went with Chaundra down to the

jnorgue. Then he came to us with this... viable, I think

plan. We could do worse than accepting his offer.

Besides, who else is there?"

"Since you ask, I was considering Gus."

"And who's gbiitg ixAje Gus, while Gus is being me?"

He watched her cross her arms over her bosom and

frankly pout "We could end up changing every name

in the station if we go that route. What with this and

that, we could get so snarled up, we wouldn't know our

arse ends from bur ears."

 

She laughed, suddenly visualizing the corridors full

of people checking their noteboards to see who they

were that day.

 

"Besides," Simeon said, "I like Gus."

"What's that got to do with it?" she replied. "Oh."

Whoever fronted as the station's manager was the

most likely to receive the brunt of occupational hazards.

She liked Gus, and even on such short acquaintance, she

liked Amos. He was undeniably nicer to look at and had

already been through several layers of hell. On the other

hand, somebody had to do it If she was right there beside

him to give j udicious guidanceÑand being beside Amos

was not a chore, maybe they'd get through without any

really bad gaffes.

 

"All right," she said, raising her hands in capitula-

tion. "Shuffling people around really could become

more difficult than teaching one stranger the ins and

outs of station management. At least enough to fool

these thugs. But, on your enhanced head be it, my

brave brain, if he turns out to be a disaster."

 

"I accept your challenge, my beautiful brawn. Shalll

have him move in tonight?"

 

For a moment, Channa looked as though she'd inad-

vertently swallowed something too large and lumpy.

"Ah, of course. We'll have to get his training started

right away, won't we?"

 

202

 

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Stating

 

***

 

Amos frowned. As attractively as he smiled, Simeon

noted.

 

Sheesh. When this is over, he could earn megacredits as a

wd-star with Smgari Entertainments, yoking historical.

 

"But I had wanted to stay with my people," he said.

 

"I know," Simeon told him, "^*it we're placing the

least injured in their own quarters, effective immedi-

ately, and scattering the rest. We can't risk having them

identified as a group, you know."

 

The young man clasped his hands behind his back.

"Yes, I see. All will be strange to the Kolnari, in many

different ways. Our strangeness will be one more

anomaly.**

 

"You're not that strange," Simeon felt compelled to

say. Tbo bloody handsomefor my peace of mind. Or maybe

being that han&ome&stranger'n I realize.

 

The elevator opened onto the corridor outside

Simeon and Channa's quarters. Channa stood in the

open door of the lounge to greet Amos. She held out her

hand to him, wearing a formal, welcoming smile. He

took her hand tenderly in both of his, bowed over it

gracefully and kissed it gently, his eyes never leaving

hers. Channa raised one brow and smiled crookedly,

taking back her hand and gesturing him into the lounge.

 

"I know you wanted to stay with the others," she

said, "but there's a lot you'll have to be briefed on, and

we should get started. Also, Simeon may have told you,

they'll be moving to their own quarters this evening."

 

"Yes, so he has told me," Amos said softly.

 

He looked at her with a warm attention that she

found unnervingly intimate. "This will be yours," she

said, opening the door farthest from her own.

 

He entered, looked around, his hands clasped

behind his back once more. He nodded judiciously, "It

is very nice," he said. He opened a closet, empty but for

a few hangers.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

203

 

"One of the things we'll have to do is fit you out

according to your new position," Channa said from the

doorway.

 

He smiled at her. "Yes, I need everything. And

Bethel clothing woul(J not be appropriate."

 

He walked over fp stand right beside her. She had

noticed that the Bemejites did that; their social distance

was close and they were a very tactile people.

 

"I shall enjoy that," he said, "if you will help me

choose?"

 

She lowered her eyes. "Perhaps, if time allows.

Though you'll be guided by experts in men's fashions,

which 1 am not." Down, girl' she told herself.

 

The door chimed and Simeon opened it. "I've sent

down to the commissary for dinner. I doubt you've

found the time to eat, Amos, so I've taken the liberty of

ordering for two," he said.

 

"You do not like to cook?" Amos asked, turning to

Channa in surprise.

 

"Not when I have more important things to do," she

answered. "It isn't among my hobbies."

 

"Ah, well, doubtless your servants are skilled." His

voice implied that a chatelaine should still oversee

them personally.

 

Ah, good one, Amos. Simeon thought, feeling more

cheerful. He had been reviewing what Kttle was known

of Bethelite culture. He did not think Channa would

find it agreeable. Why don't you ask her to sit on the floor and

rub your tired feet while you're at it, then retire to the rear of the

house while the men talk business?

 

It was worrying, though. Much as I hate to admit it,

maybe Channa was right. This plan has inherent elements of

disaster. I forgot to take into consideration that he's from an

insular and probablyÑfttbe kind, old-fashioned. Nan! Why

be kindÑbackward culture. All their preparations were a

mishmash of improvisations. Would this be one too

many?

 

204

 

AntuMcCaffrey fc? SM. Stirling

 

Amos looked quickly from Simeon's column to

Channa and said in mild dismay.

 

"I have caused offense. Please, forgive me. This was

not my intention." He smiled ruefully down at Channa

and sighed. "I clearly have more to learn than I had

imagined. Even my speech Ñ die more we talk, the

more J am conscious of how old-fashioned I must

sound to you. And, forgive me/we of Bethel are not

used to dealing with people of strange Ñ of different

customs. That was one thing I disliked about my home,

the insularity."

 

Hell, Simeon thought. He's not stupid. Adaptable, in

fact.

 

With a smooth professional smile, Channa gestured

for him to take one of the seats at the table.

 

"Then let us begin," she said.

 

Tb his back she made a small moue of distaste, which

quickly turned into a smile as he held out her chair and

looked at her expectandy. She grinned and waved him

to his seat

 

"First," she said, "you must learn that we're much

less formal here. We reserve our 'company manners'

strictly for company."

 

"But," he said, smiling as he took his seat, "a beauti-

ful woman should always be treated like a treasured

guest."

 

Channa served herself from a platter and passed it to

him, letting go of it almost before he'd gotten a grip on

it

 

"Flatterer. I'm not ugly, but I'm no great beauty,

either."

 

He almost dropped the hot platter in surprise, its

contents lilting alarming close to the edge and burning

his thumb. He put it down hastily and sucked the

injury for a moment

 

"No, truly," he said, flapping his hand to cool it "I

think you are most attractive." There was no doubting

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

205

 

the sincerity in his wide, gentian-blue eyes. The lashes,

she noticed, were long and curled. His gaze grew play-

ful. "In a strange, foreign, exotic fashion, of course."

"Well, you're very attractive, too, Amos," she said

 

seriously.

"I like attracrive-wo&en," he said, and his gaze was

 

subtly challenging. *

 

"Mmh, I don't like*attractive men," she said posi-

tively. Actually, I don't approve of them, which is not exactly

the same thing, she amended to herself. "They tend to be

spoiled and self-centered and in general much more

trouble than they're worth. Now, let us eat before the

food cools. We have a great deal of work to do and not

much time and energy to spare." She gave him a direct

stare. "I'm sure we're going to have an excellent busi-

ness relationship, manager to manager."

 

"Of course," Amos said with a neutral, social smile.

 

"Shouldn't you start calling Amos Simeon-Amos,

Channa?" Simeon broke in, before the atmosphere got

any cooler.

 

"Good idea," Channa said.

 

Amos, as far as Simeon could tell, was sulking

slightly.

 

Aha, Simeon thought With those looks, plus brains and

charisma and high position, he's probably used to women suc-

cumbing to his every ploy. And, he noted charitably, the

Bethelite was only in his early twenties. All the

textbooks said softshells were highly subject to hor-

monal influences at that stage in their pitifully short

development spans.

 

Nine gets you ten, he told himself, that there's a worn-

down track m the carpet between their doors within a week.

The notion was oddly unpalatable. He put it aside and

launched into some of the nineteen million things

Amos would have to become familiar with about station

management

 

H CHAPTER TvfeLVE

 

¥ is

 

Ahhha, gotcha! Simeon crooned to himself "Channa?

You awake?"

 

"You can always tell when I'm awake. Why ask?"

 

"Because it'spoliteS he replied.

 

"What is it?" Her tone noted that the sleep period

was three hours gone and, in barely five more, she

would have to be awake for more of the interminable

meetings and briefings.

 

"I've found out something about our expected and

uninvited guests," he went on.

 

That brought her alert, sitting up in bed and reach-

ing to key up the lights and switch off the soft fugue she

had been playing to court sleep.

 

"Couldn't sleep anyway," she said. "Let me have it,"

 

"Got a download from Central. Had to burn some

butts to get it released. It's not much. Planet named

Koinar, settled way, way, way back. Quite a ways from

here, too, as such things go. About forty times as far as

the sun Saffron, further in on the spiral arm."

 

Channa frowned. "That's really out in the boonies,

settled in the second or third waves."

 

"Uh-uh. It was first wave."

 

She pursed her lips in a silent whistle. "Right at the

beginning of interstellar colonization

 

He went on. "Involuntary colonization. Translation

program running... Okay, a whole bunch of bad-hat

groups; the Kh&nir Reddish Rice Cosmetic, the Temil Large

Striped Felines, the New Council Men, the Resurrected

Aryan-Germanic Statewide Associationist Employees Party,

 

THE CTIY WHO FOUGHT

 

207

 

faeSonsofChaka, the Luminescent Footway, the Darwin-

Wilson Society, the Ñ"

 

"What's so amusing?" she said as she caught the

laughter ripple in his voice.

 

"You'd have to be^ajhistorian to understand, my

voluptuous popsfe,"&e said cheerfully. "Anyway,

according to the recprds, they sent out about ten

thousand of these oscos, and about three thousand

reached their destination."

 

"Bad voyages?"

 

"Internal fighting in the holds," Simeon said. "With

fists and teeth and soft plastic cups, since they didn't

have anything else. Then when they got there, they

realized they'd have to interbreed, like it or not."

 

"What son of planet is Kolnar?"

 

"Nickname was 'Hell's Orifice.' They picked it because

it was easier on tender consciences. Society could

pretend the planet killed the convicts, who deserved it,

from the records. One-point-six gees, hot sun, enormous

heavy-metal concentrations, thick but low-oxygen air,

superactive and largely poisonous biosphere. No ozone

layer. Vulcanism, unpredictable climatic shifts ... the

whole nine yards! Not much visited since. When the

Grand Survey went through a few centuries later, they

were fired on. Evidendy the locals have a nuclear war

about once every forty years or so, and the ship got in the

way of one. Their descriptions of the physical type match

what Amos and the others say. There's been some contact

with them since. That incident with the survey seemed to

remind them that the rest of the universe was still there,

unfortunately."

 

"Unfortunately?"

 

"Well, I've got cross-references under pimcy,

brigandage, police actions, war crimes and aggression. Also

entries in die anthro files under genocide, slavery, cut-

ttiral pathology, xenophobia and societal devolution. There

are apparently pockets of the descendants of the

 

208

 

Amu McCaffny 6? SM. Strr&ng

 

original social aberrants scattered through a number

of systems in the area nowadays. Little asteroid

colonies, freebooter dens, unsurveyed worlds."

 

"Urk. Characteristics?"

 

"Apart from not being veryÈnice? Dark skin is a

climatic adaptation Ñ all that Uv Ñ and the hair and

eye color genetic drift you'd expect in a small initial

population. They breed like, limm, rabbits, though.

Puberty at eight, all children twins or triplets. Overall,

the Kolnari subrace seems to have very efficient

immune systems. They're extremely strong and fast.

You'd expect good reflexes on a planet like that Ñ

those with bad ones didn't survive. They can see in the

dark like cats, and they've got an amazing tolerance for

ionizing radiation. There's so much fallout and natural

background radiation on Kolnar that they've geneti-

cally adapted to it. The scientists seem to disagree

whether their paranoia is inbred or just cultural"

 

"Hard to get rid of, I'd expect,"

 

"Like cockroaches," Simeon said, deliberately

misunderstanding. "One Space Navy type a few

generations back said the only way to solve the Kolnari

problem would be to drop antimatter bombs from

orbit. Even then, you wouldn't be really sure of

destroying them all."

 

"Very depressing, thank you, and now can I get

some rest?"

 

Later that night, still unable to sleep, Channa called

out his name softly.

 

"You should be sleeping, Channa."

 

"I know, but I've got to dear my mind first. Will you

talk with me?"

 

A pause hung in the air. She took a breath and went

on. MI know I haven't been as good a brawn as Ñ"

 

"Ancient history," Simeon said. "You've been

handling a hellacious emergency better than most

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

209

 

nyone could. I can certainly listen. What's on your

 

she said, as if the two words covered the

problem adequately.

 

"Ah. Not what ycm^xpected, huh?"

 

She sighed, "Nf; the opposite. Too much what I

expected. He's . . . I'm afraid I won't be able to work

 

with him."

 

Why am I not surprised? Simeon thought. "Why?

What's wrong?"

 

"Aside from his being a smug, pushy, egotist, you

mean? Well, he doesn't have any faith in my com-

petence and I expect to have to fight to keep him from

trying to usurp my position. He's very much a take-

charge kind of person, you were right about that And

he has no respect for women."

 

"What makes you think that?" Let's hearhowyou came

to that difficult conclusion. Simeon enjoyed the challenge

of following the workings of her mind.

 

"For crying out loud, Simeon, he expected me to

cook for him! Oh, yes, he got over that. He's always

ready with an apology for 'different customs.' But,

deep down, he doesn't really believe it. He thinks

'customs' is whether you sit on the floor or on a chair,

stuff like that. He doesn't grasp the difference in fun-

damental cultural views."

 

"Channa-my-sweet, back on Bethel, there aren't any

fundamental differences. This quarrel he had with the

Elders, it's hard to grasp exactly what it was about . . .

but it seems overwhelmingly important to them. "

 

"Oh, I understand why he's that way," Channa said,

striking the pillow with a frustrated fist. "And it's not as

if he's stupid. He's intelligent and he notices things, but

that makes it more irritating, not less. You could ignore

what a stupid person does. What's more, suddenly he's

living in my pocket I'm just a little surprised he didn't

ask to see the other rooms in order to choose the one

 

210

 

Amu McCaffrty 6f SM. Stxrimg

 

he preferred." Her face suddenly flushed a becoming

rose.

 

Simeon noted that After all, he could see in the dark,

too. "And he came on to you like the colony ship he flew

in on, didn't he?"

 

"Damn right he did," she muttered, half under

her breath. "'I like attractive women,'" she said in

exaggerated imitation of his manner and accent.

"What do you suppose he does when he has to deal

with an un-attractive woman? Carry a bag to put

over her head? I hate men like that!" She thumped

the bed with both fists for emphasis.

 

"I thought you were attracted to him," Simeon said

in a calm and mildly curious tone.

 

"I am," she said with exasperation. "I hate that part

of it the most."

 

"I'm a little confused here. How can you be attracted

to someone you can't stand?"

 

"I don't know," she said grimly.

 

"Pheromones?" Simeon asked slyly.

 

"Maybe. It happens." She sighed.

 

The mysterious pheromones strike again, he thought.

There are times Tm extremely glad Tm a shettperson. At least I

can adjust my own hormone feeds. The thought of having

his biochemistry unpredictably mucked about by emo-

tional factors was nerve-wracking.

 

"You mean," he said carefully, "this has happened to

you before?"

 

A look of annoyance crossed her face. "Notjusttoiw.

It's happened to a great many people."

 

He waited expectantly and patiently.

 

With a resigned sigh, she went on. "He was a profes-

sor of economics, of all people! I fell for him like a

stone. And the weird thing was, I never liked him.

Quite the opposite. He was attractive enough, but he

was sarcastic and lazy and snide Ñ ugh! Never to me,

but it bothered me to see him doing it to other students.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

211

 

One day I was sitting there and I looked up at him and

I said to myself, Tm in love with him." She widened her

eyes arid held out her hands in a "go figure" gesture

and let them flop back onto the bed. "Hmmp."

 

"So... you're in love... with Simeon-Amos?"

 

"No! Of coufsetiod I said I was in love with my

professor, not Simeon-Amos. They're two different

cases." She started to.laugh. "I'm older and wiser now,

Simeon-Simple."

 

"As long as you're npt sadder, love."

 

She chuckJed/"No, not sadder."

 

"Naturally you and Simeon-Amos will have to

undergo a bit of a period of adjustment," he said

seriously, "but he really wants to help. And he's going

to be very busy helping. That'll go a long way in curb-

ing any ardent tendencies he may have. Try to cut him

a little slack, Channa; he's the victim of an inbred cul-

ture. Besides which, we're all under threat of death."

 

"Mmm. Tell that to the subconscious Ñ it interprets

threats of death as a reason to get more interested. I do

wish this crisis wasn't so immediate." She sighed again,

wearily. "Maybe they're not out there. Maybe they gave

up and went back to Saffron, to Bethel. All we'd have to

do is file a report, while the fleet floats by us."

 

"I wouldn't bet on it, babe."

 

"I must be mellowing," she observed, "I've allowed

you to call me love* and "babe* and... I actually let you

get away with 'luscious popsie,' didn't I?"

 

"Yeah. I'm counting coup. Maybe you like me?"

 

"I wouldn't count on it," she said grinning. "Good-

night, Simeon."

 

"'Night, Channa."

 

"Oh, God, not another meeting," Channa mumbled

to herself around the light-pencil clenched in her

teeth. In one hand, she held the notescreen she was

studying and, in the other, a cup of coffee. Hot as hell,

 

212

 

Anne McCaffrey 6? SJW. StirSag

 

black as death, sweet as love: not the way she generally

drank her caffeine, but the proper dose to jolt a body

into action after inadequate sleep. For something

stronger, she would have to go taDoctor Chaundra.

 

"Why meetings?" she continued to herself as she

stumbled into the lift at the end of the corridor. "Why

can't I just send memos?"     i;

 

"Mornin', honeybunch," Patsy's voice said.

Channa started so violently at the presence of two

other people on the lift that she almost slopped the hot

coflee over her hand. GuÈput a steadying grip under

her elbow.

 

"Why meetings?" Gus repeated, "because they're

civilians. They're not used to facing a military emer-

gency. They need to be told the information again and

again before it'll seem real to them."

 

The lift hissed to a stop. "Fortunately, I don't need to

be told so often, so I can get right on with my work," he

said. "See you later, ladies."

 

Channa looked across at Patsy. The older woman

was leaning into the padded corner of the lift, eyes

dosed and a dreamy smile on her lips. "Patsy?"

 

One eye opened reluctantly and a sweet smile lightened

herexpression as she stretched languorously. "Yeah?*"

"You look almost as exhausted as I am. Aren't

getting enough sleep?"

 

Patsy's eyes widened, and she worked her eyebrows

melodramatically. "Not much," she said with some

enthusiasm. "Unless you use 'sleep* in the euphemistic

sense."

 

"Anhhanh-Gus?"

 

"Con mucho Gusto!" Patsy giggled. "Ah've read

about this. People in crisis, they jest get together,

y'know? You ask Simeon about it He'll tell ya."

 

"I wouldn't presume to ask Simeon about private

matters. I suspect he's morbidly fascinated by the sub-

ject Besides, I know what you mean."

 

Aren't you

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

213

 

"Ohho! Ah heard about yoah pretty li'l roommate,"

patsy said with a wink. "Hubba hubba." She nudged

Channa with her elbow.

 

Channa cleared her throat, stuck the light-pencil

over one ear and took^ sip of her coffee. Ghastly, she

 

thought. "Simeon tolcrme that 'hubba hubba' meant

 

i j  * ¥*

'sexy lady

 

"Did he? Well, when he says it, it probably does. No,

really, it jest means somethin1 sexy, anythin' sexy What,

is up to the beholder." Patsy rose onto her toes and

clicked her heels together a couple of times. "Ah think

Simeon-Amos is sexy," she said teasingly.

 

"Right now you'd think taffy was sexy," Channa said

repressively.

 

"Oooh, yeah, ya can puulll it..."

 

"Patsy!"

 

"Loosen up, girl! If ya get too tense, all yore hair fells

out. Doncha know that?" She grinned and waved as

she got off on her floor.

 

"Damn," Channa said, leaning against the wall. The

padding held a faint trace of Patsy's body heat. "It's

been entirely too long since I went to work with a smile

like that"

 

"Great Lord, we cannot determine whether the craft

we pursue left the area of the station or not," Baila said,

tugging at the cupid's bow of her lower lip.

 

Belazir tapped a meditative thumb against his lower

lip. "Why not?" he said mildly.

 

The technical officer swallowed. "There is too much

traffic here, lord. Individual trails fade in the back-

ground clutter."

 

Belazir raised his brows, the only outward sign of an

icy stab of concern. According to their best calculations,

the way the fugitive ship had been pushing its engines,

it should have blown itself to a ball of plasma and frag-

ments long before now. Granted that, in the old days,

 

214

 

Aime McCaffrey fcf SM. Stiriing

 

ships had been built to last, still... If, by unforeseeable

fortune, they reached a well-traveled zone first, the

unthinkable could happen. The Clan would be in

danger. He would be in even mote danger Ñ from the

rest of the Clan. ,

 

"Computer," he said, the command-voice that slaved

its attention to him. "Extrapolation: the vector of the

prey, matched against last definite location and possible

destinations, as updated from the chardogs of that cap-

tured merchantman."

 

A spray of possibilities flicked out in the 3-D tank.

"Now, eliminate all those that would require more than

four days' transit from last known location."

 

All faded but one. "Ah, that station," he said. It was

the most probable search vector in any case. "We must

continue the pursuit. Comments?" he asked the other

captains' faces. They were present by holo, a ghostly

ring effaces on the shadowed command-couches of

their respective bridges, similar to the Bride's.

 

Aragiz t'Varak, of the Age of Darkness; Zhengir

t'Marid, of the Rumal Ñ Strangler, in the old tongue Ñ

Pol t'Veng, of the Shark, old and scarred and the only

woman among them, the only one with an inde-

pendent command in the Clan fleet. Enemies and

rivals; his ability to make them move in concert was

another test the Clanfathers imposed. That which does

not fall us, makes us stronger, he reminded himself

 

"Captains and kin," Belazir said. "You have the data.

We must decide whether to continue the pursuit, or

break off. My recommendation is that we continue."

 

Aragiz's face pushed forward, tensing like an eagle

held by jesses to a hostile wrist "If you had not stopped

to loot, we would be closer on the prey's trail," he said

sharply.

 

Pol cut through his words with a snort "Irrelevant

We must continue the mission,"

 

Belazir nodded at her.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

215

 

"I do not like it," Pol said in her guttural rumble. She

was known to be a canny and prudent commanders.

"Something is just slightly out of kilter." She made a

rocking gesture with the claw-scarred hand.

 

Belazir considered her remark. What had that con-

tractor Ñ one of the' 4nes the Clan fenced loot to

occasionally Ñ said? "There are bold pirates, and old

pirates, but there are no old, bold pirates."

 

"Still," she went on, "the balance of risk is clear. We

must know if the prey reached this station. To do that,

we must take it in our fist"

 

"And if it did?" Aragiz said.

 

"We kill, send a message torpedo to the fleet, and we

run," Pol said. "With as little as one week's lead, we can

lose the Navy among the stars and dust Nothing is lost

save time."

 

"And the effort we put into subduing Bethel!" Aragiz

snapped. "Stopping for that merchantmanÑ"

 

"Was irrelevant and consumed no significant

expense of time!" Belazir said. "In any case, there is a

substantial chance nothing was left alive on the prey-

ship by the time it reached this station. If it did reach

them. In which case, there is the station itself."

 

"Ah," Zhengir said. He was a close relative, and a

man of few words. "Atargetofgreatopportunity."

 

"Risky," Pol said, rubbing her chin.

 

"We come in fast at the limits of their sensor capacity

and launch hyper-velocity anti-rad missiles to knock

out their communications," Belazir said. "We pulse our

engines to jam subspace for the time required. It will

look natural to those who come to investigate later. A

black hole evaporating, or some such."

 

"Hmmm."

 

Pol rasped a hand over the horrible keloid scars that

narrowed one half of her face. Since cosmetic repair

would be easy enough, Belazir suspected she kept

them as an affectation. But with those scars, even the

 

216

 

Amu McCaffny 6?SJVf. Stating

 

most arrogant seldom remembered that Pol was a

woman. Those grooves had been made by the daws of

an animal which Pol had subsequently strangled with

her bare hands. She wore its tanned hide around her

shoulders.  È

 

"Hmmm," she said again. "That would be minimum-

risk strategy. However, we can#ot find out if the prey

reached the station if we obliterate the station. We must

be sure that no warning of us has gone out On the other

hand, a swift raid, catching them unawares, would dis-

cover die truth and we can act accordingly."

 

"Taking with us whatever the station holds," Belazir

said, grinning avariciously. Greed was quickly kindled,

since everyone knew what the merchant ship had

yielded: the merest trifle in comparison to what a full

station would render up. "Depending on what we find,

we might even have time to call for the Clan's

transports to come and haul the loot. Even what we

could load on our frigates makes a raid more than

worth our while."

 

Agreement rolled around the circle with the excep-

tion of Aragiz. Belazir quirked a brow at him. After

criticizing his commander for sloth, he could not be

behindhand now.

 

"Attack, then," Belazir concluded. The others

nodded. "Tactical instructions follow. Confirm on

receipt"

 

Several of Simeon-Amos's instructors were female.

 

Wfco/, Simeon thought. Thin, plain and severely

ascetic in middle-age, Flimma Torkin blossomed visibly

as Simeon-Amos bowed over her hand.

 

Her smile died a few minutes later. He appeared to

be hovering attentively, but...

 

"Mr. Sierra Nueva Ñ"

 

"Simeon-Amos," he said.

 

"Will you please listen to what I'm saying? As station

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

217

 

head, you should have some knowledge of how our

communications system functions."

 

"I am sorry," he said meekly.

 

This should be interesting, Simeon mused. The rest of

the session went n\uch more smoothly, although

<everal times Amos*absently called the communications

chief nama.

 

Nonstandard. Simeon thought the computer into

action; a few nanos later it came up with a probable

derivation, from the languages other than Standard

spoken among the first setders of Bethel, plus observa-

tion of the refugees.

 

nama: aunt, auntie. Probable meanings: female

authority figure from childhood, nurse, teacher

[primary].

 

"That didn't go too badly," Amos commented as

Flimma left.

 

"You learn quickly," Simeon said: sufficiently true as

well as polite encouragement

 

Meanwhile, Simeon had been busily switching

assignments. The assistant power chief was really the

logical person to brief Amos. The fact that Holene

Jagarth was stacked and less than thirty was irrelevant;

at least to Simeon and anyone else dealing with her as

an expert on plasma containment

 

Twenty minutes later she stood, ominously silent for

a moment, then turned to the pillar.

 

"Talk to him, Simeon. Or send him around to my

place for recreational duty, but in the meantime I have

work to do!" Holene said in a terse voice, turned on her

heel and stalked for the corridor.

 

Amos blinked in astonishment "What was the mat-

ter with her?" he asked plaintively.

 

"Ahem," Simeon said, and watched Amos turn back

toward the training display they'd been using. "I

wonder if you could tell me, what role do women play

in Bethel society?"

 

218

 

Anne McCaffrey fe? SM, Starting

 

"Role?" The question seemed almost meaningless to

him. "They are mothers, of course; daughters, sisters,

wives. They keep the home, raise die children, follow

gentle skills such as medicine and painting, the writing

of novels and poetry." He looked puzzled. "What do

you mean?"

 

"I was wondering if, perhapsvwomen played a more

subservient role on Bethel."

 

"Subservient? No, of course not! Bethel has, as yet, a

very small population. Therefore, to us, the bearing and

raising of children is th&highest calling a woman may

attain. We revere our mothers, and we feel that women

and children are to be protected and nurtured."

 

He frowned, mildly indignant. "There are excep-

tional cases, such as Channa. And I have never been

one of those who think that women should keep to the

inner rooms and stay silent in the presence of men.

That is old-fashioned and ridiculous. Why, some of my

primary associates in the New Revelation were

women! I feel as though you are telling me that respect

is disrespectful."

 

"Not at all," Simeon said soothingly, "but I think you

may be confusing respect with condescension." Amos*

face took on the set look it had worn through the last

half of his dinner with Channa. "A little less patting on

the hand, Simeon-Amos. You give them the impression

that you claim authority because of your gender."

 

"No, no," Amos exclaimed, throwing up his hands in

rejexrion. "If I have an aura of authority, it is because of

my position on Bethel. Birth aside, I am a junior mem-

ber of the ruling council. I rule the family estates, of

course. I have been an administrator for several years

now." He smiled in a confiding manner. "Although, I

have found that women react differently to my orders.

I do not deny that I find it simpler to work with men."

He gave a negligent shrug. "There is no problem of

seduction between men."

 

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

 

219

 

he's consistent, at least, Simeon thought. Maybe he

needs to cling to whatever ego-confirmation he's got, since he's

S0 displaced.

 

"Do you realize," the brain said coldly, "that you've

just patronized me? Based on your belief that you're

such a treat for ariyprJfe to deal with? I'm a part of this

culture. You're not I know these people, you don't. I

run this station and have been running it since before

you existed, and will be running it centuries after

you're dead. And I'll be running this station

throughout this emergency while you're only pretend-

ing to. So listen up! You're treating your women

instructors as if they're only adequate until someone

real, meaning male, arrives to take over. Well, the

experts here just happen to be female! We're short of

time, so I'm going to pay you the compliment of

expecting you to be able to adjust to that alien concept

We need you to be one of us. We need you to forget

about Bethel for the time being.

 

"I know how much we're asking of you, Simeon-Amos,*'

he concluded, his voice less stern and more under-

standing, "butyou're asking us to trust you withour lives."

 

Amos gasped, his eyes wide with a mixture of embar-

rassment, puzzlement and astonishment

 

Oh, fugle, Simeon thought Channa was right. I do have

the sensitivity of a demolition charge. Seventy-seven of

Amos' followers had died fleeing Bethel. And, being

the conscientious sort of leader Simeon had seen him

be, he probably had them marching through his

dreams at night, asking, "Why?"

 

"Sorry," Simeon said, "that was badry phrased. Look,

I need to know if you can do this. I need to know now.

You'll be dealing with Channa, under her authority,

daily. I'm not going to waste time. If we have to replace

you with someone who doesn't have the same hang-

ups you have, then six hours is all we can afford to

waste on a false start. Now, can you or can't you?"

 

220

 

Arme McCaffrey &? SM Stirling

 

Amos put a hand to his brow. They depended on me, and

they died, ran through his mind like a prayer response.

Followed by: No. I saved some, who would otherwise have

died. And Bethel may yet live, what & left of it.

 

"I have never yet failed to accomplish a thing that I

have set out to do," he said grimly. He touched head

and heart with two fingers as We bowed to Simeon's

column. "Would you be so good as to convey my

apologies to the lady who has just left?"

 

"No, but 111 be happy to show you how to call her so

that you can tell her yourself." Simeon watched Amos'

Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

 

"Of course," Amos said with a strained smile. "That

would probably be best."

 

Ç CHAFER THIRTEEN

 

This is worse than the captains' meeting, Simeon thought

 

It was absolutely amazing that so little rumor had

leaked out. In that alone was an indication that they

might be able to bring the whole thing off. SSS-900-C

personnel had an uncanny instinct for keeping their

mouths shut when silence was more than golden,

 

Not so at this meeting, where everyone was sound-

ing off Ñ barring Channa and Amos Ñ and no one was

listening to a word being said.

 

The meeting was being held in the largest auditorium

on the station. Which, thank Ghu, Simeon thought with

relief, is not nearly large enough to hold all of the station's

population. The sensible had stayed in their quarters

watching the whole spectacle on holo. The skeleton crew

now running the station would have their own briefing

later. Just as well I didn't bother to activate sound from the

priuate quarters' screens, he thought wearily. He was getting

a good enough cross section of opinion right here, far the

 

thing. Icon always turn the audio off. . . No, that's useless.

 

He contacted Channa on the implants in her mas-

toid. "This was a mistake. We should have briefed their

counsel-reps, who would have briefed their aides, and

so on. This could build panic to critical mass." For some

reason the shouting in the auditorium rose to a higher

pitch. "Or simply get so loud the noise shakes the sta-

tion to pieces and saves the damn pirates the trouble."

 

"Hindsight," she said softly, "is always so dear. Actually,

they look more angry than frightened to me. I've gotten

 

222

 

AimeMcCaffivy& SM. Stirling

 

more used to the smell of fear than I like, but the

ambience here has a different reek. Of course, I can't hear

what they're saying, they're all yelling so loud."

 

Simeon picked out phrases from the uproar with

directional sensors:    È

 

"... those goddamned assholes in tnat colony ship..."

 

"... yeah, how many ways are, they going to try to

get us killed,.."

 

"... where's the damned Navy? That's what I want

to know. They cripple us with taxes and..."

 

"... this is crazy. TTiey don't even know this is what's

gonna happen? Meanwhile, I'm sittin* here losin'

money.,.. what do they expect us to do?"

 

"WHAT DO WE EXPECT YOU TO DO?" Simeon

asked in a tone that overrode the babble. He added in a

stew of subsonics intended to stun and intimidate. The

noise dropped offabruptly, pleasing him.

 

"For starters, shut up and listen!" he suggested in a

reasonable tone. "We expect you to take the emergency

seriously, to listen to instructions and to carry them out"

He paused for a moment to let that sink in. "This meet-

ing will give you what you need to know on how to

handle yourselves during the anticipated emergency.

Remember, what you don't know, you can't reveal. From

this point on, I remind you that rumor helps the enemy,

not you or me, and not this station.

 

"If you hear something you think is a rumor, report

it to your section leader, who's the same person who

leads your ordinary emergency evacuation team. If it's

true and it concerns your safety, he'll know about it If

he hasn't heard it, he can check with me and I'll con-

firm or deny it. I wttl tell you the truth. Do not spread

rumors. Remember that We fully expect shortly to be

occupied by an enemy force which has a very bad

reputation for space piracy."

 

Echel Mckie, station newscaster, waved both arms

for attention. Simeon acknowledged him.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

223

 

"Pirates?" he asked. "Look, is this another one of

your damned games, Simeon?"

 

"Absolutely not. This is as real as death. They'll be

here in less than three-days. We've notified Central and

the Navy, who assure us that a rescue mission is already

under way. But it woiA be here before the pirates are

likely to arrive. Therefore this station and its personnel

must initiate such delaying tactics as possible. To stay

aliver That silenced the last bit of muttering.

 

"Why weren't we told this earlier? Every ship has left

Ñ we're stuck here!" Mckie's face was a study in

outrage.

 

Channa moved forward to the front of the dais. "You

weren't told because we used the available space to

evacuate children and the sick," she said crisply. "Any

objections to that, Mr. Mdde?"

 

"As I said," Simeon went on, "we are not only expect-

ing to be occupied, we are hoping we will be." He

paused again to see that they had absorbed that distinc-

tion. He was proud of his people! They got it in one!

Shocked pale faces now accepted what he did not, after

all, have to spell out.

 

"Listen up now. These are your station manager's

orders. Don't offer direct resistance. Cooperate when-

ever necessary but don't volunteer anything. We

expect that most of the enemy won't speak Standard,

so misunderstand when you can. Make your answers

as brief as possible, when you can't be silent. If you

don't know, say so, but do not tell them who does know.

Stay in your quarters as much as possible. Keep your

emergency suits ready to use. Listen to information

passed to you by your group leaders rather than any-

thing you may hear over the vid. Remember, we're on

your side. They won't be.

 

"Finally," he said, "this is Simeon-Amos." Amos stood

up and bowed politely. "This is the only Simeon on the

station. He is co-manager with Channa Hap, the term

 

224

 

AimeMcCafficy&SM. Stirling

 

Simeon means co-manager. We have a longstanding

tradition of having the male station managers carrying

that name. It's in honor of one of the first station

managers. There is no brain or brawn on this station,

there never has been. Shellpersoas are only used on

ships."

 

He paused to gauge their reaction, studying their

grim faces. "If they don't know about me, I'll be able to

continue running the station unimpaired Ñ literally

behind the scenes. If they disconnect me from the sta-

tion Ñ and they will, if they^find out about meÑwe're

all in trouble. So, as of now and for the duration, I don't

exist. This is Simeon-Amos, your station co-manager."

 

Amos smiled and nodded. The audience had that

stillness of about-to-boil-over. Faces began to reflect

expressions now; mild alarm, disbelief, skepticism.

 

"This . . . this backworldmttdfoot is supposed to

manage us in an emergency?" somebody said, with all

the hauteur of the space-born. Amos' head went back,

and he stared down his classical Grecian nose with ten

generations of aristocrats behind his eyes.

 

"To pretend to run things," Simeon said. "Further-

more, he volunteered to front for me! Not a role you'd

get many to take under the circumstances," he added,

and got a few snorts of agreement "So, before anyone

frets over Simeon-Amos' leadership qualifications, I'd

like to replay the man in action. The tape's authentic.

I've checked it." Nobody could do that better than a

brain.

 

What Simeon screened for them then were shots

that he had accessed from Guiyon's files. Itbegan when

a wall flashed with intolerable brightness, then

diminished to show troops in black combat armor trot-

ting down a burning street of brick-and-timber

buildings. The sensor was pitched low, looking up

from a half-basement window or a hole in the ground.

Across the way, a human figure hung out of a window,

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

225

 

long black braids trailing in a pool of blood on the

sidewalk. A child's body lay there too: its crushed skull

suggesting it had been thrown against the wall

 

The screen wa*s abruptly blank. Then lit up again

with a dimmer scene.

 

Amos' recorded *olq| cut through the blurr-roar of

flames. "Now" he s*d.

 

The picture shook "as the ground heaved, and the

burning walls cascaded across the street, drowning the

black figures in a tide of brick and flaming timbers and

glass. Other figures darted forward, Bethelites to judge

by their rough, improvised uniforms. When the first

powersuits began to claw their way out of the rubble,

the defenders were ready. Amos was unmistakably

leading them, an industrial jetcutter in his hands. He

plunged it down on the massive sloped helmet that

jerked itself free of the ruins, and helm and head

exploded in steam.

 

The screen jerked, a different scene coming into

abrupt focus: a manor-house among formal gardens,

only a few scorch-marks on its walls. Invader infentry

stood at their ease; the picture had the slightly glassy

look of a flatpic extrapolated by a long-distance

camera. Armored fighting vehicles rested in leagues on

the lawns, their cannon pointing outward in a her-

ringbone pattern, lighter weapons on their upper

decks tracking restlessly across the sky. An aircraft

slowed overhead. Bulky armored shapes disembarked,

one in a suit marked with complex blazons in a script of

angles and sharp curves.

 

The viewpoint zoomed in, as a group of young

women in long robes were pushed out of the front

door of the manor, many carrying bundles. They knelt

under the alien guns; one opened the chest she car-

ried, filled with miniature crystal vials. She smiled,

gesturing to the bottles, opening one and smelling,

extending it to the warrior in the decorated suit. From

 

226

 

Anne McCafirey &7 SJVf. Stirling

 

her looks she was about sixteen Standard years and

very beautiful, with the classic features similiar to

Amos'. The pirate raised both gauntlets to his helmet,

lifted it free and tucked it under one arm, bending to

sniff. The exposed face was scored with age,

roughened skin pockmarked by radfttion damage,

blossoming growths, thinning blond^hair startling

against dark complexion. It smiled..."

 

Leered, Simeon thought, reviewing the scene, fve

heard the word, but never really seen the corresponding expres-

sion till now.

 

The view of the pirate's face"was brief. Even as he

bent, a red dot appeared between his brows. Less than

a second later, his head exploded into mist.

 

The body stayed erect in the armored suit, blood

pumping in a high arc from the stump of the neck. The

girl with the perfume box stood, smiling truly this time

as the blood bathed her. Until one of the other warriors

stepped forward and, gripping her head in a powered

gauntlet, squeezed. Her head burst in a spray of pink

bone and gray matter. The other girlsjoined hands and

were singing when the plasma gun scythed them into

ash and steam.

 

Someone in the hall was retching; several sobbed.

 

"For the death of that Kolnar, I claim only the

marksmanship," Amos said, his archaic accent adding

gravity to his clear tone. "The bravery was my sister's.

Sahrah led the maiden volunteers. I did not know what

she had planned. I was trying to reach the manor before

the enemy could. We think ... we think that dead dog

was fourth or fifth in rank among the pirates."

 

All heads turned to him; his was slightly bowed.

"Such was Bethel, when the Kolnari came to us," he

said. "They have the souls ofÑ" he spoke a nonstan-

Jard word.

 

"Rats," Simeon said.

 

"Ñ rats that walk like men. They kill for killing's

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

227

 

sake, they rape and tenure and steal, and what they

cannot steal, diey foul out of depravity."

 

Another holo came up. "Keriss," Amos said. There

was total silence now. A city by a bay, astride a river,

lower-built than the worlds influenced by Central's

architectural styles, Brifrht-tolored buildings amid

broad gardens. A scattering of taller buildings at its cen-

ter, and one that led the eye up and up in a leap of

towers and domes.

 

"The Temple," Amos said. "This was a remote pick-

up, a news-sendee shot, just before the end."

 

White light flashed. The city dissolved as the bulging

donut shape of the shockwave billowed out. The slow

scene gave it a terrible grace; trees exploding into

flame under the heat-flash and scattering as less than

splinters an instant later, the water of the bay beginning

to flow and swell into a wave taller than the hills.

 

"So died Keriss," Amos whispered.

 

"I'm not calling wolf this time," Simeon said, match-

ing that same tone. "If anyone doubts, speak now."

 

He let the ensuing silence echo. "Does anyone think

they're better equipped to play me than Simeon-Amos

is?" No one gainsaid him. "This emergency is all too

real. Until help arrives, we're going to have to rely on

each other. I believe we can do that," he said confident-

ly. "If you weren't pretty brave and independent sorts

of individuals, you wouldn't be on a station anyway.

You'd be on a planet somewhere trying to figure out

how to get the bugs offyour vegetables."

 

This got more of a chuckle than it deserved, he

thought, but they needed the release from tension.

 

Channa rose, ubiquitous notescreen in hand.

 

"There will be a meeting for council members at

two," she announced, "and there will be a meeting of

evacuation group leaders at four. Subsequent to those

meetings, evacuation groups themselves will meet at

times appointed by the group leaders. We aren't going

 

228

 

AmuMcCaffny&SJU. Stirling

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

229

 

to take questions because we're now on a need-to-

know basis. We thank you for your cooperation. Ladies

and gentlemen, this meeting is adjourned."

 

"Right, listen up, you crap-headed rock hounds,"

Gus bellowed.

 

The noise level in the docking ^hamber fell fairly

quickly. Stands to reason, he thought.'*These were work-

ing spacers, not data-pushers and entertainers. About

fifty of them glared up at him as if he'd thought up this

little crisis himself. The shages of the tugs and miners

in the interior dock bulked at their backs, huge and

shadowy with all but one of the overheads turned off.

That cast a puddle of light over the assembled pilots

and crew. He had staged the meeting this way at

Simeon's suggestion, to make them feel like a group.

 

"You know what's coming down," he said, making

his voice intense without making it loud. "All our ship-

ping with interstellar capacity has been moved out"

 

"Not all," one of the miners said, running a hand

over her luridly tattooed head.

 

"Can it, Shabla. You can do maybe ten lights, scout-

ing for minerals. That won't get you to the next

system."

 

She shrugged, grinning at those ranged about her.

 

"What we've got left is the tugs," said Gus, "and some

mining scouts. It isn't much, against four frigate-class

warships."

 

"It's fardling nothing," another said. "Unless you

want us to ram 'em?" The man didn't think much of

that idea even as he voiced it-

Ramming was not completely out of the question; if

you cut something heading toward you at high speeds

into smaller pieces, you were just multiplying your

troubles. You had to blast it into gas, or deflect it, before

you were safe. They all understood the principle, and

the limitations.

 

"Ramming's not on," Gus said, shaking his head

even as he gave them a sly grin. "Not when we lose to

any beam-weapon they care to turn on us. But," and

he waited until a schematic of a standard tug came up

on the screen behind him, "what has a tug got? A^

normal-space engine'an^ a great big power plant, and

a fardlin' humongous grapnel field. Mining scout's

about the same, only with a sampling laser. So there

isn't much sense in us getting into slugging matches

with warships." He caught the universal sigh of relief

that wafted about.the'bay. "ButÑ" and he held up one

gnarled finger "Ñ there are things we can do."

 

Then he outlined the changes needed on the screen

behind him. Gratified and slightly vulpine grins

replaced frowns even when he explained the strategy

to be effected by such alterations.

 

"Hey, wait," Shabla said. "I got a husband Ñ two,

actually Ñ on this tin can. You want me to leave 'em

here while the place is taken over?"

 

"Exactly," Gus said, giving her stare for stare. "What

the crap could you do for 'em here? Get your head

kicked in? Start a firefight in a corridor and blow the

pressure hull? Out there, we've got a chance to do

something worthwhile for all our skins. We've all got

someone here, or nearly all of us. This is what we can

do for 'em. Who's with me?"

 

The cheer was more nearly a howl.

 

He's realty much more attractive when he isn't trying to be,

Channa thought dismally. And when he's really working.

Which he was, now.

 

"And it's been so long," she murmured to herself.

 

Amos turned to look at her, his brow furrowed in con-

cern. "Something troubles you, Channa?" He grinned.

"Besides, that is, our possibly imminent demise?"

 

She gave him a jaundiced smile. He would mention

that, she thought, just when I was getting involved

 

230

 

AmurMcCaffny &? SM. Stirling

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

231

 

enough not to think about it Well, since we might all die,

why not take the plunge?

 

"This is beginning to get to me. I feel so... so alone."

 

His eyes kindled, and a lovely feathery warmth

tickled her lower belly. Her smile spread to a grin, and

he rose from his place and came to sit beside her, their

thighs lightly touching. He took tfer hand in both of

his.

 

Ooooo, she thought. If this one were on the holos, there

wouldn't be a dry seat in the house.

 

"You're not alone! Fm here," he said, his voice rich

with sympathy.

 

An hour later, things had progressed to the point

where they had drifted into Channa's quarters arm in

arm. And damn Simeon's opinion, Channa thought. Fm

going to enjoy myself.

 

They were both three-<juarters undressed and a lot

warmer when Simeon imitated the sound of a knock

on the door and shouted from the lounge.

 

"Simeon-Amos, Rachel's here." The voice was flatly

neutral, but Channa savagely thought she could detect

a suppressed giggle.

 

"What!" Amos shrieked softly as they both sat bolt

upright

 

"Here?" Channa demanded. "What do you mean,

here?"

 

"She's in the corridor outside," Simeon said cheer-

fully. "Should I let her in?"

 

*just a moment," Amos said desperately, leaping

from the bed and frantically grabbing up clothes.

 

"That's mine," Channa said, rescuing her shirt from

the pile.

 

Amos bolted from the room, opened the door to his

quarters, flung his clothes in and ran to the door.

Realizing he was in his underpants, he ran back to his

room, grabbed his robe, and struggled to pull it over

his head as he staggered back to the lounge. The arms

 

seemed to knot and tangle so deliberately, he

wondered if the robe had turned animate and was

resisting. Amos made desperate, despairing little

 

sounds.

 

Channa rolled her eye^ Èghed, and headed for the

bathioom. "Cold waterf pulsed, shower," she told the

 

fixtures. As if I need one with Rachel at the door, she

thought

 

Amos took a deep breath, finally pulling the robe

down over hi$4Èddy.

 

"Why am I agitated?" he asked himself. "I do not

have to account for my actions. There is no one in

authority over me." On the other hand, Rachel could

make an unfortunate scene. At least there would be no

outraged father, brother, uncle, or cousin likely to

break in with a hunting rifle and blow off the offending

equipment

 

He opened the door. He hopped backward just in

time to avoid a blow from Rachel's fist, aimed at the

lounge doors. "Rachel!" he snapped.

 

She stood glaring at him. She was breathing fast, her

nostrils flaring, a sheen of sweat across the pale olive of

her skin.

 

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

 

He looked at her in astonishment

 

"You know perfectly well what I am doing here," he

said. He had himself sufficiently under control now to

speak with his usual gentle authority, and he could see

her purpose falter. "I am living in die manager's quarters

because I am to be a co-manager of the station. I'm study-

ing very hard and constantly to be worthy of this honor. I

have told you this. 1 told everyone." He let his eyes widen

sfighuy in unaffected innocence.

 

She narrowed her eyes. "It is true, Amos, that you

told everyone. But, you did not tell me\"

 

"All right," he said soothingly, "all right, come in."

 

232

 

AÈmeMcCaffny& SM. StirKng

 

He placed his hands delicately on her shoulders and

steered her to the couch. "Sit!"

 

She looked first at him, then at the couch as though

she suspected some trap before she cautiously folded

herself down to the cushioned jfcirface. Looking up at

him, she patted the place beside her.

 

"You sit down, too," she insisted.

 

"You will have some refreshment?"

 

"No. I will have an explanation."

 

He drew over a straight-backed chair, placed it in

front of her and sat down. Her eyes widened and she

sat up straighter, looking, if possible, even more

affronted than she had been.

 

"I am sorry," he said, "if I have offended you, but I

have been very busy." Unspoken was the inference that

she should be also, helping to brief the Bethelites and

settle them into their temporary roles. "I told Joseph

about our plans, and I assumed that he would explain

everything to you."

 

"Oh!" she said sarcastically, "You told Joseph. Well,

then of course there was no need to enlighten me! He

could tell me whatever he pleased of your plans and that

would have been sufficient. Then I could go to sleep this

night, knowing that you had moved in with that black-

hearted slut-bitch, with an untroubled heart."

 

"Rachel bint Damscusr he said sharply. "You forget

yourself!"

 

She raised both fists above her head and shouted, "It

is not I who disport with the daughters of the heathen,

an act forbidden by every scripture! Nor is it Joseph's

place to tell me of what we do. It is yours, yours alone!

Are we not to be betrothed?"

 

He stared at her in shock. "No," he said in blank

astonishment "Whatever gave you that idea?"

 

She blinked. "No?"

 

"No," he repeated, shaking his head in the negative.

 

All of the color drained from her race and he could

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

233

 

see the white of her eyes all around the iris. She

breathed in and out through her nose with a sound like

tearing silk. She trembled. She tried to speak and only a

garbled sound came out, then she said in a grating

voice, "She has seduced^ou."

 

"No," he said and Èhook his head again, waving both

his hands in the same negative gesture, but his eyes slid

away from hers.

 

"Always," she said harshly, "from the time we first

met, I knew that you were mine. Mine!"

 

"No," he said. "You are meant for Joseph, who has

always loved you. He will make you happy, and he

wants you." He forced his voice to gendeness. She has

became unbalanced, he thought desperately. Of all the

times for such a thing to happen! He had thought her

only a little more given to hysteria than most of her sex,

but something had changed her; perhaps the trauma

of the attack, perhaps the massive drug dosages they

had been forced to use on the trip.

 

Her eyes widened still more, until the whites showed

all around the iris. He had heard of such things, but

never seen them, except once when an ancient hermit

had gone into a trance and prophesied.

 

/ should have paid move attention to my first-aid training,

he thought ruefully. Perhaps then he would know how

to deal with her instability. Whatever her faults, she

had sacrificed much to follow him. She had been

invaluable in the chaotic scramble of the last days on

Bethel. My dear friend, I have failed you.

 

"He wants me," she said in the same low growl "And

you do not?" Her mouth twisted, and she bit her lip as

she turned her head from side to side and nodded

several times. Abruptly she rose and was out the door

before he could rise from his chair.

 

He grabbed his hair in both of his hands and pulled.

"Arrughh! Simeon," he asked, "what have I done?"

 

"Pissed off Rachel, I'd say."

 

234

 

Aime McCaffny & SM. Stating

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

235

 

Amos sighed, then groaned. "No," he said despair-

ingly, "I have done worse than that I allowed myself to

be talked out of doing what I knew was right. I knew in

my heart that she should be-evacuated, but Joseph

asked me to let her stay. Perhaps I gave you the wrong

answer today, my friend. Perhaps I cannot play this

role if I am so easily convince*} to go against my better

judgement"

 

"You thought Joseph could keep her in fine?"

"Yes. I hoped that, because he would be nearby and

considerate of her, she would turn more to him and less

toward me."

 

"Not a bad reasoning," Simeon replied truthfully.

"Sending her away might break whatever hold she has

on reality."

 

Amos looked unreassured and more miserable than

ever. He might be a good-looking man, but he sure had

cornered the supply of gloomy looks.

 

"Today, you have said quite correcdy that you are

older than I, and also that in many ways you are wiser-

Today I should have been the wiser." He shook his

head sorrowfully and shuffled into his room like an okl

man.

 

Well, Simeon thought, what an interesting evening!

Looks like the forecast for true lave is Ñ not smooth. Such

marvelous material for teasing Channa. So tempting to

see how she'd react. No! He had to keep his mind on

more important things. Like that Rachel. The girl had

shot out of that interview with Amos as if she'd lost her

rag. Better keep an eye on her, he told himself. And so should

Doctor Chaundra, if he's got the time. Most acute mental ill-

ness was chemical, or could be adjusted with the

judicious use of neutralizing chemicals.

 

With a weary woof, Doctor Chaundra sat at his desk

and, setting his coffee cup in the most spill-proof area

available in the surface clutter, he keyed up his mail It

 

had been two days since he'd had an opportunity to

look at it Twenty-five attempted suicides, four of them

among the refugee Bethelites who chose gruesomely

old-fashioned methods. One had actually hanged her-

self! Good in one respect: easier to revive, although

there might be some memory loss from oxygen

deprivation, and-he'd have to use a nerve-shunt The

sight of that bloated, blue-tinged face with the protrud-

ing tongue lingered unpleasantly.

 

He slipped himself a calmer; just one, although the

gods alone knew what it would do with all the caffeine

he'd been absorbing. He had to get on with this

accursed viral project even if he was a doctor, not a

gene-sculptor! It disturbed him to deliberately make a

virus more harmful: too much like making medicine

into a weapon. Chaundra had grown up on a planet

where personal violence was fairly common, and done

his internship in a trauma ward. His own family came

from a pacifist tradition, and the internship had con-

firmed him in it

 

At least Seld is out of this, he thought with relief.

The first message was yet another requisition for

calmers. He signed it out; the organosynth machines

were going to be running overtime. Would pirates take

notice of supernatural calm? The doctor smiled rue-

fully at that and told the machine to show him the next

message. It was flagged personal, which was odd. He

began to read.

 

His heart stumbled; he could feel the pain in his

chest quite distinctly, but it seemed distant and unim-

portant Vision grayed down to a tunnel; it was long

minutes before he could speak.

At last he managed to croak "Simeon? Simeon!"

 

"What is it, Chaundra?"

 

I don't like the way he looks. The sound of the doctor's

voice had been sufficiently worrisome for Simeon to

 

236

 

Anne McCaffrey 6? S.M. Stirling

 

THE cny WHO FOUGHT

 

237

 

activate visuals. The doctor was visibly tired but, con-

sidering the work load he was pushing, fatigue would

be normal. Nor unusual for Chaundra who tended to

push himself. If Simeon had been capable of

experiencing fatigue, he would be knackered right

now. The slightly built dark man was gray-faced with

sweat beading his forehead. Simeon ran a diagnostic

program; not good. Extreme stress, to the point of

endangering the man's health. Chaundra was not

young anymore, and had endured some very hostile

environments in his career. Not to mention the current

problem.

 

"This message..." and Chaundra managed to point

to his screen.

 

Dear DadÑSimeon read.

 

"Why on earth didn't this trip my watchman

programs Ñ I'll have ]oattsfade for this, by God!"

 

Ñ I couldn't go, Fmsorry. Ihopeyou can understand and

forgiveme, but ^artythmg were to happen to you and I wasn't

there, Td never forgive myself. I have to be here, because Mom

can't be. Iloveyou.

 

Seld.

 

"Oh!" Simeon paused in full comprehension of

Chaundra's state of mind. "But didn't you put him

on...."

 

"No," Chaundra said, in a voice drained of affect.

"He was in line, almost to the lock. Then I received a

bleep message Ñ the most urgent of codes. Seld said I

must answer. He understood that. We embraced, said

good-bye and I left him there."

 

Chaundra flopped one hand over weakly, unable for

more effort than that. "He was practically on the ship.

How the hell did this happen?"

 

"I'm sorry. I've too good an idea!" Simeon told him.

"I'll try to find out where that wicked young rascal is

right now." He didn't mean Seld, but did not qualify his

term. After a moment's pause he came up blank. "I'm

 

not finding him, so he's well hidden wherever he is.

That should be some consolation, Chaundra," he said

in a firmly reassuring tone. "If I can't find him, neither

can our expected visitors. I'll keep looking. Count on

me for that! - - *j

 

Looking with every eye I own, Simeon said grimly. How

could the well-mannered, well-brought up Seld have

fallen for one of Joat's schemes? And what part would

the kid play in it? And Fm to blame for this situation and

Chaundra's heartache, Joat had been so eager to learn,

and he'd seen no reason to restrict her terminal's access

to the schematics. She had been bad enough before this

emergency sent her to cover; now, he didn't know what

she was capable of doing.

 

Fve an idiot-savant running feral in my station, he

thought bitterly. Ten years' precocity in advanced engineer-

ing technics and the morals of a five-year-old. The

selfishness of small children can be charming, when

they don't have the power to do much harm. In a near-

adult, and a brilliant near-adult at that, the possibilities

went out of bounds,

 

"Well, Seld is here Ñ somewhere!" Chaundra said,

recovering himself enough to shout and to be livid with

rage. "The clock says this message was entered ten

hours after his ship left!"

 

"I know, I see it Don't worry, Chaundra. We'll find

him."

 

HI know we'll find him. What worries me is that he

should hide! That he is no longer as safe as I thought

he would be by now. Do you understand? My son could

die. My heart is pounding with the anxiety."

 

Simeon ran another quick scan of the station, this time

including apartments left empty by the evacuation.

 

"Still searching. There are so many places he could

hide and even I couldn't find him," he said by way of reas-

suring Chaundra. "He's a big strong kid who can handle

himself" As well as any of us, he thought The odds for

 

238

 

Anm McCaffny # SJW. Stating

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

239

 

anyone on the station were not good, but there was no

point in reminding Chaundra of that now.

 

"No," the doctor said between clenched teeth, "he

isn't a "big strong kid,' and he can't handle himself. He's

never going to be strong. Thej^lague that took his

mother left him with nerve damage."

 

"Nerve damage?" Simeor^jsaid incredulously.

Regeneration of nerve tissue was an old technology,

and well understood. Without it, shellpeople would be

impossible, for the same technique knitted their ner-

vous systems into the machinery that supported them

and that they commanded.

 

Chaundra shook his head. "I have done what I could

to bypass the damage, but if he puts too much strain

where the repair exists ..." His voice trailed off, and

when he raised his face to Simeon's visual node, he had

turned into an old man.

 

"It was a little clinic, you understand. Mary, she was

the meditech, I the doctor. A new continent on a new

colony world. Much to do, we were on research grants.

Then people began to die. There was nothing I could

do... They imposed quarantine Ñ quarantine, in this

day and age! When I found what had happened,

already it was too late for Mary. The virus ... was a

hybrid. A native virus-analogue combined with a

mutant Terran encephalitis strain. The native virus

wrapped around the Terran, you understand. So the

immune system could not recognize it and had no

defense. The Terran element enabled it to parasitize

ourDNA.

 

"Seld was damaged, on the point of death. It took

three years of therapy for him to be able to walk and

talk and move as well as he does."

 

Chaundra turned, picking things up from his desk

and putting them down.

 

"But he will never be strong. If they seize him, hell

be as helpless as someone half his age. There could be

 

convulsions: stress accelerates the damage. It is

cumulative. Why do you think I took this position? He

must be near a first-rate facility at all times. He must

not suffer extreme stress or the effects could snowball

As it is, he will probably rÈt live much past adulthood."

 

Chaundra slumpefl in* his chair, anger, even anxiety

draining out of him as he buried his head in his hands.

 

"Then we'll make sure they don't hurt him," Simeon

said grimly." First, let's find him. He's probably withjoat"

 

"Seld's mentioned her." Chaundra's voice was muffled

"He has many-friends, but she sounded... different"

 

"She is. Oh, she's different, all right. And she

wouldn't leave, either. So in a way, you and I are in the

same boat."

 

Chaundra rubbed his mouth and chin. Whiskers

rasped; unusual, since he was normally a fastidious

man. "Yes," he said and laughed sardonically, "and the

boat is about to leak."

 

"Not necessarily." Simeon said firmly enough to

make himself believe it "Seld has something else going

for him."

 

"He has?"

 

"Yes. Seld has Joat, and she's got such a strong sur-

vival instinct that even if the rest of the station blew,

she'd find a way to stay alive ... and keep Seld alive,

too. He's actually far safer with her than anywhere else

he could be. So I wouldn't worry about his infirmities,

or stress. Though I hate like hell to admit it, I can't

think of anyone better qualified to mind him than

Joat!"

 

"Seld," Simeon called. "Seld Chaundra, come out

where I can see you."

 

Joat popped into view rubbing her eyes, "What are

you yeUin' about, Simeon?" she asked, yawning.

 

"Send him out, Joat This is the only place he can

possibly be."

 

240   Ame McCaffrey 6? SM. Stirling

 

Joat crossed her arms and looked sleepily defiant.

"Your father is worried, Seld," Simon went on. "He

sent you away so that you'd be safe. So you know he's

not really going to kill you for staying, even though you

deserve it."

 

Seld appeared beside Joat, who*shoved him in the

shoulder. "Tbldja to stay outta sight)"

 

He hung his head and said, "I know. But I can't let

you take my rap. Mom wouldn't like that in me. At least

that's what my dad says she'd say." He shrugged and

gave her a feeble grin.

 

Joat rolled her eyes. "Do what'choo want," she said

in a scathing tone, and disappeared.

 

"Actually," Simeon told them both, "I don't see any

need to rough it just yet. Why not sleep comfortably

while you can, eat what everyone else is enjoying,

because we're certainly not going to leave it to the

pirates to gobble up. I'd prefer that you hide out when

the pirates arrive. Meanwhile, Seld, give your dad the

benefit of your company: he needs it. Save your

rations,Joat- Eat with us. Food'sbetter. For now."

 

He picked up her disgusted sigh, and then she

walked into view, arms still folded, expression still

defiant

 

Simeon warmed to her all over again. I don't think I

was ever that young, he thought, but, y'ftnow, she makes me

tvish I could swagger. "Okay guys, let's go."

 

* CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

"Very large mass," Baila said, whispering. "Several

score megatons, at least."

 

"You nee4 not lower your voice," Belazir said,

amused and more so when several of the bridge crew

jumped. "We are proceeding stealthed, but sound

waves do not propagate in vacuum."

 

He turned to the schematic and long-range visual

views. Impressive indeed, he thought. Far and away the

largest free-floating construct he had ever seen. Twin

globes, each at least a thousand meters in extent, linked

by a broad tube. More tubes at the north and south

axis, evidently for docking large ships, although none

were there at the moment Around the station was an

incredible clutter of material: loose ore, giant flexible

balloons of various substances, radiating networks,

fabricators,

 

Large but soft, he decided. Like a huge lump of well-

cooked meat, steaming in its own juices and touched

with garlic, waiting to be carved into bite-sized pieces. It

was a target so rich that he had trouble convincing him-

self of its reality. Mentally he accepted it, while his

emotions could only kick in every minute or so, as jolts

of near-orgasmic pleasure. He stretched like a cat,

acutely conscious of the anticipatory tension beneath

the quiet ordered activity of the bridge. Everyone in

the flotilla would come out of this a hero. He couldn't

believe this plum could be snatched away Ñ not from

the Kolnari and especially not when he commanded

the Kolnari flotilla! And he, Belazir t'Marid Kolaren,

 

242

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM.. Stating

 

would be more than a hero. He would be placed firmly

in the logical line of succession to Chalku t'Marid.

 

"A pity it is so big," he mused. "A shame to have to

waste any of the possible plunder." He sighed for, of

course, they would have to destrqg what they could not

take.

 

The flotilla were warships by sfjetialty, not cargo car-

riers. Even if they had time enough to bring in the

heavy haulers from the Clan fleet, only the merest tithe

of the goods to be found in this size station could be

transported. On the othgrhand, the ecstasy of sheer

destruction had its own euphoria Ñ the knowledge

that so much data and effort could be casually blown to

dust.

 

"A message torpedo to the fleet?" Serig asked.

 

"You echo my thoughts, Serig," Belazir said. "Ready

for instant transmission once we close our fist on our

prey."

 

The message sent back with the captured mer-

chantman would have the Clan fleet on alert. But the

transports could not yet have arrived at Bethel, much

less landed there. Rigged for deep-space running, suf-

ficient ships could be diverted to assist him without

hindering the effort at Bethel. Say, ten days' transit

from the Saffron system, to be conservative; two or

three days loading, depending on how many Father

Chalku decided to send. Then set demolition charges,

nice large ones to leave nothing larger than gravel.

There might well be prisoners worth taking for skilled

labor. The huge rectangular frame of a shipyard was

now visible on one side of the station, and that meant

that there would be rare and valuable slaves to sell.

 

With an effort, he restrained himself from rubbing

his hands together. "Oh, what a surprise they have in

store," he said.

 

"Indeed," Serig said. His eyes and teeth shone in the

dim blue lights of the bridge and his voice was husky,

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

243

 

a man in the grip of lust Which, Belazir reflected,

was exactly what it was. Metaphorically and literally.

 

"Keep your eagerness in chains, my friend," he said

genially- "It is a good slave but a poor master." He

'aimed to Baila. "Whattraffic inbound?"

 

"None, Great Lor^l." *

 

"None?" Belazir raised a brow.

 

Curious, he thought, a space station built in an area near-

ly devoid of traffic. Is it old and due to be abandoned? Or is it

new and as yet rarely used ? A small chill diluted the perfec-

tion of his pleasure. There were alternatives here; he

might be the hero who brought unimaginable wealth,

or the immortal villain who revealed the existence of

the Clan to an enemy more powerful than they.

 

He shook his head with a small, tssk of disgust.

Impossible. The merchantman had been rich with

treasure and it had just left the station. "Indications?"

 

"Great Lord, the background radiation is consistent

with large-scale departures over the past five days."

Baila paused, hesitant. "Lord, it is difficult to be certain,

with the density of the interstellar medium here. Sub-

space distortion damps out very quickly..."

 

The small chill became fingers of ice stroking the

base of his spine. His testicles drew up in reflex.

 

"I want information, not excuses!" he said in a harsh

voice. "Ready the seeker missiles." If the accursed

Bethelite cowards had warned the stationÑprompting

the normal traffic to flee Ñ they would destroy it and

run immediately. He was nearly certain he had crip-

pled the prey's communications apparatus in the

pursuit, but "nearly" grilled no meat. But, if it had

escaped, where was it? Or had the station done his

work for him? A rich station would have cause to be

wary of unexpected visitors. "Continue stealthed

approach."

 

That meant running with the powerplants down, off

accumulator energy, on a ballistic sublight approach.

 

244

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating

 

Slow, they would take years to come near at this speed,

but quite safe at a respectable distance. At any moment

they could power up and close in swiftly at super-

luminal speeds. This was a modification of a tactic the

Clan sometimes used against merchantmen on the

outskirts of a solar system. And mey were dose enough

that lightspeed was not much of a problem for detec-

tion purposes. Briefly, he considered running back on

FTL for a few parsecs, to see if he could pick up traces

of in- or outbound traffic over the past week. Then he

shook his head, rejecting that plan. Signal degraded

too much over distance, arid his own trail would adver-

tise his presence. While the station retained subspace

communicator capacity, it presented the Clan with a

deadly risk.

 

Taking time to consider a problem from all angles

was no excuse for inaction. Strike the hardest blow you

could, then see if another was needed; that was the

Kolnari way.

 

"See if you can pick anything up from their

perimeter relay beacons," he said. In dust this thick

even local realspace beacons needed amplification.

"Message, Great Lord," said Baila.

"I would hear it"

Immediately a woman's crisp voice filled the control

center, "Warning all ships, warning all ships, SSS-90Q-

C is under Class Two quarantine: I repeat, Class Two

quarantine. The following species are advised not to

make port at these facilities under any circumstances."

A list of alien species followed, most of them

unknown to t'Marid.

 

"Human visitors are restricted to the dock facilities

and the entertainment areas immediately adjacent to

them. You are advised to continue on to your next port

of call. Warning..."

 

The message began to repeat and Baila cut it off.

"Further scan, lord: there are two debris fields. Both of

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

245

 

them between us and the station. The one nearest the

station is largely of natural ferrous compounds, prob-

ability ninety-seven percent-plus semi-processed

asteroidal material. The other, nearest the Bride, is of

metal and ship-hull compounds, finely divided.

Computer assessment S that the mass represented by

the metal debris is equivalent to the mass represented

by the prey ship."

 

She touched several controls, and the multiple

screens displayed a scene of tumbling scraps of half-

melted metal, no single piece larger than a meter wide

or long. Most were a fog of metallic particles.

 

His eyes narrowed. The quarantine could explain

the absence of shipping. Baila's analysis suggested that,

either the prey ship, which he knew had been ancient,

had disintegrated under the stress of redlining or the

station had destroyed it. The former was more likely

since no weaponry had been detected on the station.

No doubt the truth of the end to the Bethelite refugee

ship would be found in the station's records.

 

"Your appraisal?" Belazir asked his weapons officer.

 

"Great Lord," the man said, collating a probability

run, "the bulk of the fragments are definitely the result of

ultra-high temperature breakdown. The profile is com-

pletely compatible with sudden energy discharge from

the main internal drive coil of a very large ship. Some of

the other debris Ñ" he called up relevant views "Ñ show

blast fragmentation. That could either have been the

result of direct hits with chemical-energy warheads, or

secondary propagation effects when the engine blew.

The shockwave through the hull..."

 

"I'm aware of the phenomenon," Belazir said dryly.

The weapons officer shrank back. Belazir t'Marid had

fought his first space engagement before the younger

noble was born. "Continue scan and analysis. Inform

me of any anomalies."

 

They blew up," Serig said.

 

246

 

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

 

THE CFTY WHO FOUGHT

 

247

 

"Just as they arrived? How convenient," Belazir said.

He gnawed a thumb. "Possibly too convenient?"

 

"Possibly. However, we were expecting their engines

to foil catastrophically at any moment They were sub-

limating bits of their cooling vanes for the last thirty

light-years."     *

 

"True. Itisstillacoincidence."

 

¥jÈ

 

"Once is coincidence," Serig said in ritual tone,

"twice is happenstance Ñ"

 

"Ñ and the third time is enemy action, yes," Belazir

finished irritably. "But for the station to be plague-

ridden at the same time?*'

 

"The scumvermin races are weak of body, lord," he

noted.

 

Belazir signed confirmation. TTie seed of Rolnar was

strong. It had to be, to have survived so long on a

planet not suitable for human beings, and further

devastated by so many centuries of reckless develop-

ment and continual war with every nuclear, chemical

and biological weapon ingenuity could produce. When

the Clan fled a losing struggle, they had kept the tradi-

tion of culling any child who showed signs of

vulnerability to infection. In feet, it was a stroke of for-

tune to have the enemy immobilized by a menace that

was no menace to the Kolnari.

 

"Hold position. Call in the consorts."

"Yes, Great Lord."

 

Belazir glanced at his communications officer. Her

face was bright with excitement, too. He smiled. She was

young; this was her first term of duty. He remembered

well that sharp, eager feeling. He grinned. Ah, but he

was feeling now, at the ripe age of thirty, that his life was

half over.

 

"All captains confirming receipt of your orders,

Great Lord. Moving into position."

 

"Excellent," he said, glancing back at the schematic

Km have abvady given a cry of distress, oh rich and beauteous

 

, he thought vindictively. The entire universe was

in conspiracy against the Clan Ñ against all of Kolnar

and its children. Soon you mill scream.

 

Channa turned at her desk.

 

'Hi Joat, welcome

 

Ç     ¥          Ç

rome.                      I

 

A relieved, shy smile greeted her. "Um ... gonna

take a shower."

 

"You can use it," Channa said, sniffing. "When

you're through, I want to introduce you to someone."

 

"Ah," Simeon said lighdy. "We're a family again."

 

"Shut up, you hunk of tin," Channa said good-

naturedly, throwing a wad of scrunched-up tissue in

the general direction of the pillar. "How does this look?"

 

She punched a key to feed in the distribution of

supply caches.

 

"Hmmm. Not bad. Okay, how about we seal off the fol-

lowing passageways?" A schematic of several decks

sprang up." If you didn't know about modern fabrication

methods, that would look right for structural members."

 

"Good, good Ñ what does that give us?"

 

"About a thousand people we can stick away in

corners Ñ the V list" Those were the ones that they

hadn't had space available to evacuate.

 

"Nobody essential, I'm afraid," Channa said. They

had agreed that they had to let essential staff take the

risks, as their absence would elicit questions.

 

"No, but it'll cut down the number of potential vic-

tims quite nicely. Also, it'll give us a chance to scatter

around some stuff that'll come in useful later. Ah,

Simeon-Amos."

 

Tlie Bethelite leader's eyes were red-rimmed, but his

smile brought a warm lurch to Channa's diaphragm. "I

think I have mastered the basic administrative struc-

ture," he said. "It is not too strange."

 

Channa raised a brow. A 900-series station isn't too

strange to a backworlder? she thought.

 

j

 

248

 

AttneMcCaffrey fc? SJW. StirUng

 

The thought must have been obvious, but Amos

only spread his hands and tossed his head, setting

aswirl the coal-black curls of his shoulder-length mane.

The blue eyes twinkled beneath the broad dear brow.

 

Oooooo, Channa thought, and fought to bring her

attention back to his words.

 

"In any large organization* xhere will be certain

constants," he said. "The central authority; officers in

charge of various departments; a structure for meetings

to coordinate activities; procedures for routine decision-

making, and so forth. Tips is not too dissimilar to my

family's holdings on Bethel. We, too, were essentially

coordinators of the activities of many independent

entrepreneurs. There are no ranchers or farmers here,

of course, but both communities have mining, manufac-

turing, education, cultural facilities..."

 

"Culture?" Joat ducked back into the lobby, toweling

her wet hair. For a wonder, she had on something more

formal than the shapeless, patchwork-colorful overalls

that were current fashion among SSS-900-C's youth.

"Like holos and virtie games and stuff?"

 

"Ahhh ..." Amos hesitated. He had been thinking

more of choral song and traditional dancing. "The

general principle is the same."

 

The servos had been setting out the evening meal.

Simeon had programmed them to meet the basic

dietary superstitions of the Bethelite religion, although

Amos had turned out to be flexible. Channa shud-

dered mentally at some of the things she'd screened in

that Bethel text. How in God's name, for example,

were they supposed to check that none of the materials

had ever been touched by a menstruating woman?

 

They sat down, Amos murmured a prayer, and for

another wonder Joat waited a second before grabbing

the nearest bowl. She had turned out to be a

monumentally unfussy eater, but in sheer capacity she

belied the scrawny underdeveloped frame. BetweenÑ

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

249

 

or sometimes during Ñ mouthfuls, she grilled Amos

about Bethel.

 

"Sounds dull," she said at last

 

"I thought so, too," Amos said, pushing a bowl of

steamed millet closer^aher. She shoveled several help-

ings onto her platband heaped them with sour cream

and chives.

 

"Joat," Channa said gently. "That really doesn't go

with pineapple slices, you know."

 

"Why not?" Joat asked, turning to her with a milk

mustache on her upper lip. The girl licked it away with

satisfaction as Channa searched for a reply, gave up,

and turned her attention back to Amos.

 

"Hiding away all that stuff was smart of Channa,"

she said thoughtfully. "Always gotta have supplies in

your bolt-hole unless you're fardlin* stupid."

 

"Sound strategy," Amos said seriously.

 

He certainly seems to be good with children, Channa

thought, stirring her food around with her fork. Girls

don't bother him. Not pre-pubescent ones, at least.

 

In her inner ear, Simeon began to croon an ancient

song: 'Across a croooowded room..."

 

"Shut up," she subvocalized.

 

"This place has got more back-alleys than you'd

believe," Joat was saying. "Not like a ship at all, really.

You can get anywhere from anywhere and ain't nobody

can stop you, if you know where you're goin'. Some of

the places pinch grudly, but they're in-able if you're

sveltsome."

 

"I would have thought it much like a ship of space,"

Amos replied courteously. Channa could see his lips

move silently for an instant as he puzzled out Joat's

slang. That was no wonder. Half of it was her own

invention.

 

"A whole other order of magnitude," Simeon said.

"No mass limits on a station Ñ the SSS-900-C wasn't

expected to go anywhere. The outer shell was fixed, as

 

250

 

Amu McCaffny 6? SM. Stating

 

well as some of the major facilities, but the rest was

intended to allow organic growth up to a couple of

hundred thousand people, max. We've found natural

expansion is the best way to stabilize a real community,

as opposed to a transient community, like a passenger

vessel."

 

"That is good sense," Amos said meditatively. "On

my family's estate, planning towns was similar. If you

set down every detail, the place has no life. When

Uncle Habib decides to put his tobacco store next to

Aunti Scala's pastry shoppr Brother Falken's saddlery,

and that brings an ice-cream parlor, it then follows that

the town becomes a living and efficient entity."

 

"Why do you talk so funny?" Joat asked.

 

"Why doyou talk so funny?" Amos parried, and they

both laughed. "Because Bethel was cut off for so long. We

did not even screen or broadcast data from other worlds,

so our people's way of speech changed litde, and those

changes differed from those in the Central Worlds, which

had dealings with many other worlds and cultures."

 

"Central Worlds?" Joat asked. "Oh, you're fardlin' Ñ

'cuse me Ñ way off there. This is the hikstik, frontier,

you know."

 

"To you, not me." He paused. "I think, Joat, that

someone besides yourself should know of these hidden

ways of yours."

 

"You should see it," she said enthusiastically. "You

wouldn't believe what's back there!"

 

"I would very much like to see it,1* he told her grave-

ly. "But, I have not much time left for my studies." Her

face fell. "Still," he said," I think that it is important that

trusted people, other than just you and Simeon,

should know these back ways of yours. Would you be

willing to show my friend, Joseph?"

 

"He's your head honcho, hey?"

 

"My brother and my right hand," Amos said seriously.

 

"Okay, if he's nanna grudly."

 

THE Cnr WHO FOUGHT

 

251

 

Amos gave up trying to interpret that remark and

glanced over at Simeon's image in the screen.

 

"Grudly," the brain said in his most professorial. "An all

purpose negative. In this context Ñ 'not too grudly1 Ñ

stniight-laced, conventional, boring, unimaginative.**

 

"No, no. To tel^the truth and shame the devil,

Joseph was, in feet, a <Jockside desperado when I met

him, "Amos said

 

Joat lit up, her urchin smile taking a year or two off

the extra time life had dealt her, so that she looked

twelve. "Sure! I'll be glad to show Joseph around.

Whenever you like."

 

"Thank you. And now I must return to my studies."

He sighed theatrically and rose.

 

"I know how you feel," Joat said, shaking her head in

resignation.

 

"He's made a conquest there," Channa subvocalized.

"Wonder how he did it?"

 

"Joat is no longer a feral child," Simeon pointed out

"We broke the ground for him. Being glamorous doesn 't hurt.

And he listens to her. He's naturally interested in people, I

think, under the iveird socvHvUgious stuffthey rammeddown

his throat."

 

"You're right," Channa said aloud, looking dreamily

at the now dosed door of Amos' quarters.

 

Well, Simeon-Amos, Simeon thought, you're a hit with

both my girls. A petty observation, but couldn't he

indulge in pettiness in the privacy of his own mind?

 

'"Course I'm right," Joat said She was having more of

the pineapple slices, fresh from the vats, lavishly doUoped

with ice cream. "You flipping the sheets with him yet?"

 

*Joat!" Channa said warningly, reaching over to flick

her on the ear with thumb and forefinger.

 

"Watch it!" Joat said, rubbing the offended lobe. "Ill

report you to Gorgan the Organ." She grinned

unrepentandy. "I know all about it, y'know."

 

"You may have observed Ñ and I wouldn't put that

 

252

 

Arme McCaffrey & SM. Stating

 

past you for a nanosecond, but you don't understand

what you've seen. You also have no manners."

"Yeah, that's true," Joat said complacently,

"\bu needn'tact so smug about the lack," Simeon cutin.

"Why not?" Joat asked. "Lots d^ way-neat stuff you

can't do if you've got manners."

 

i<

 

My God, Channa thought, looking up from her

notescreen.

 

All of them were looking terrible, but Doctor

Chaundra looked old. Antt haunted as well. Channa

was a little surprised. She would have thought him one

of the ones who could handle the fear.

 

"Here it is,1* he said bitterly, holding up a small syn-

thetic container.

 

Channa automatically glanced down at the box, a

capsule dispenser, standard model, but looked more

closely at him.

 

"Are you all right, Doctor?" she said anxiously.

There were other medicos on the station, but only one

Chaundra. Personal factors aside, he was also the only

specialist with experience in original viral research.

 

"Tired is all," he said. The non-Standard accent in

his voice was stronger than usual, a trace of liquid sing-

song. He stood for a moment by her desk looking at the

box he carried, then he placed it in front of her.

"They're ready," he said, pointing to it.

 

Channa touched the dispenser slot and it dropped a

gelatin capsule filled with clear liquid into her palm.

 

"The virus," she said.

 

"Yes," he murmured. "1, who am a healer, have

created for you a weapon."

 

"A nonlethal weapon for self-defense" she said in

gende correction.

 

"Hopefully nonlethal. How can I be sure, with a

genetically nonstandard target population? I cannot

even be certain nobody on the station will die of it!"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

253

 

"The probability Ñ" Simeon began in a firm tone.

 

*¥_ js vanishingly small, yes, indeed," Chaundra

said. Then he sighed. "There is no sense in complain-

ing after the fact We have made enough so every man

and woman on theÇta(&>n gets five. I can't imagine

anyone being unlucty enough to need more than that.

What you do, is bite down on it. Don't swallow and

breathe it all over the Kolnari nearest you. It is con-

tagious even if swallowed, you understand, but more

so with direct contact. If the pirate wishes to kiss you, by

all means let them."

 

"Ugh!" Channa said, making a face.

 

"I've alerted the group leaders to call in at the clink

to collect dispensers for distribution to their people,"

Simeon said.

 

"Remind them, will you," Chaundra said, "that

anyone who uses a capsule should report as soon as

possible to the clinic for the protective shot. They'll get

a light dose then, but their ... um... victim will get

very sick indeed."

 

"Symptoms?" asked Channa.

 

"Headache, nausea, diarrhea, fever, possible

delirium." He shivered. "I must get back to my lab. So

much more needs to be done, and there is so little time

to do it all in."

 

"You need to sleep," Channa said firmly. "Go to bed

for a minimum of six hours."

 

"That's an order, Chaundra," Simeon told him, "as

of now, you're off duty until tomorrow morning."

 

"Yes, of course." Chaundra nodded abstractedly.

"And the volunteers," he continued, "have them in the

hospital as soon as the pirates appear. We can accelerate

the onsetÑ"

 

"Go to bed!" Channa took him by the arms and gave

him a little shake, finally getting his startled attention.

 

"Oh..." He smiled. "Good idea. Um..." He paused

at the door and blinked. "Oh, yes. Joat Ñ I have met

 

254

 

Ame McCaffrey & SM Stating

 

young Joat She is a bit... more mature than I thought

she was." He frowned, looking concerned. "Do you

think it will be all right, their being together so much?

Her and Seld, I mean."

 

Channa blinked. At least nobodyJias been unkind enough

 

f^    Q

 

to mention any grizzly tales of Joat's life story, she thought

 

"Uh, I don't think it will matte#" Simeon said, slightly

amused. "They'll be kept weil-occupied, you know, and

they are neither of them physically adult."

 

"You are very off-handed for a proper father of a

daughter," Chaundra saicl owlishly.

 

"Well, I am her father Ñ or will be when the papers

are completed. Truly, Chaundra, I think we can

depend on Joat to be responsible. I trust her. She may

operate on her own code of ethics, but she is more con-

sistent about it than many adults I have encountered.

I'm not worried."

 

Chaundra sighed. *'I wish I had a credit for every

time someone has told me that they are not worried.

They're at a volatile age and they can't even trust them-

selves. Hell," he said throwing his arms wide, "under

all this pressure, the adults on this station can't trust

themselves. How can we expect diese kids to?"

 

Channa felt her color rise. "We can only anticipate

the problem and talk to them and hope for the best If

they're so inclined," to her surprise, she couldn't force

herself to be more specific, "they'll find a time and place

where we can't interfere. So let's not wear ourselves

down worrying about it."

 

A whole new set of problems, she thought. Correcting

the damage done to Joat's psychosexual development

was probably going to take many years. Right now the

girl needed Seld to be her friend, not her bed partner.

He was definitely her friend but... Channa remem-

bered what boys were like at that age, too. There's more of

a danger that she'd break his arm. But she needs a friend.

Something else to lie sleepless and worry over. Or had

 

THE crrY WHO FOUGHT

 

255

 

anyone told Joat about Seld's medical problems?

privacy, she thought Seld had the right to deal with that

in his own time.

 

"Hey!" Simeon said. "Yoohoo! Channa! Chaundra.

You're both tired. Eveiything looks manageable when

you've had some slfep. So go sleep. We'll take care of

the capsules and we'll organize the volunteers. Don't

worry about a thing."

 

Chaundra sighed again and assumed a wry

expression. "Amateurs," he mumbled. "What you're

experiencing, Simeon, is denial. You can't avoid such

problems by pretending they don't exist." His

shoulders fell "I'll have Seld bring her home with him

after they're through working today." He waved good-

bye and left.

 

"Denial," Simeon said musingly. Strange, knowing

what he did of her past, he knew that sex was the last

thing Joat would think of as a recreational activity. That

was the commonest symptom of the particular form of

abuse she had suffered Ñ and still the idea made him

uneasy, fatherhood.

 

"I don't want to talk about it," Channa told him, and

marched briskly back to her desk. She sat down and

spun the box of capsules around with one finger. "I was

thinking," she said, "wouldn't it be great if we could up

the ante on these?" She looked at Simeon's column.

 

"Yeah, it would. But we're already putting our

people at risk. I'm not willing to do the enemy's work

for them. Y'know?"

 

"Mmm. True. What if we could make them believe

it's worse than it really is?"

 

"Hard to say without knowing their physiology, tis-

sue samples ... Oh. You're talking about a con game,

aren't you, Happy?"

 

"It all depends on their psychology, of course. And

I'm not happy."

 

"Well," Simeon said dubiously, "the Navy psych

 

256

 

Amu McCaffrey &? SM. Stirling

 

reports aren't too detailed. These splinter groups are

usually aberrant Generally speaking, the reports say the

Kolnari are extremely aggressive towards those they

perceive as weak, treacherous but willing to bargain with

their equals in power, and have a tight/submission reflex

towards superiors Ñ until the superiors let down their

guard, which is a sign of weakness/

 

"Oh, what a love-feast their culture must be!" Chan-

na said. "Hmmm. They'd be vulnerable to status and

power anxieties, then. And lots of internal rivalries."

 

"You betcha. Accordingtb the reports, they're also as

superstitious as horses. They know some science, but

they're not scientific, if you know what I mean."

 

"I think I get the picture. So?"

 

"We could modify some of the holo-projectors beside

the security cameras and flash 'hallucinations' for the

benefit of those who've had the virus. Auditory hal-

lucinations are no problem. I could project them and

no one would be the wiser."

 

"Oh, really?"

 

"Yeah," he seemed to be whispering directly into her

ear, "and without using your implant."

 

"Wow," she said, touching her ear, "that's spooky.

How did you do that?"

 

*Just threw my voice Ñ heterodyning waves from

multiple sources. It takes practice, but as you saw, the

effect is worth it"

 

She shook her head, wide-eyed. "If you can come up

with something visual to go with that, they'll be run-

ning for their ships the first day."

 

"Can't overdo it. It'll be easiest if they're alone when

they see these things, otherwise it could be considered

suspicious. I'll sound Joat out. That girl's a fountain of

ideas."

 

Channa winced and forbore to ask what kind.

Chaundra's comments almost visibly flooded back into

her conscious mind.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

257

 

"Don't let it worry you, she's a good kid," Simeon

said emphatically.

"I don't want to think about it"

 

"You really are concerned about Rachel's sanity,

aren't you?"      (

 

Amos and Channa were settled comfortably on the

settee. Simeon had tactfully withdrawn his image from

the pillar screen, leaving a strikingly realistic crackling

fire in its place. Somehow he had even manage to repli-

cate the scent of burning cedarwood. Amos had had to

tactilely reassure himself that the fire was an image.

 

"Yes, she is definitely unstable," he said, his

shoulders sagging hopelessly. "Among all the other

problems, I must worry about this! It is so... sopetty."

 

"Humans can be a remarkably petty species," Chan-

na said philosophically. Partiddarly that hysterical bitch

Rachel. "When you get down to cases, lots of'big issues'

have been decided on personal matters. From Har-

modias and Aristogetion on down." Amos looked

blank. "Two ancient Greeks. Never mind. Briefly, a

government was overthrown because of a love-

triangle."

 

Amos sighed again and reached for his snifter of

brandy. "I care nothing about her and my best friend

would give his life for her," he said, shaking his head.

"ChannaÑ*

 

"Yes?"

 

"I know hereÑ" he touched his head "Ñthat this...

delusion of hers, has nothing to do with me. But here Ñ"

he touched his heart "Ñ I cannot help but feel that I must

somehow be to blame. I was a... caller-of-spirit: you

would say a preacher. Oh, yes, I knew that half the

women in those crowds were in love with me. What of it?

I would never touch any of them, for that would be

dishonorable and destroy my cause more surely than

any other oflense. The folk of Bethel are... inflexible

 

258

 

Anne McCaffrcy &7 SM. Stir&ng

 

about such matters. Yet if I knew and accepted love, if it

flattered my vanity, am I not in some manner respon-

sible? How desperate she must be, and how lonely. It is

 

sad."

 

Channa patted his arm anjl smiled soothingly.

"From your description, it was never this bad before. If

you're to blame, then so is everyjcharismatic politician

and holo star since time began. Her ... delusion ..,

may have been aggravated by those drugs, although

she's not responding to medication. Simeon, has

anyone talked to Chaund^a about this?"

 

"Not yet," he said, after a tactful pause to suggest he

hadn't been listening.

 

"I have decided to keep her under my eye," Amos

said, adding reluctandy, "Mental care, the cure of souls.

It is part of our religion that only those consecrated can

perform cures of the human soul."

 

"Mmm." Your religion sucks wind, she thought silently,

No sense in offending Amos, of course. Humans

shouldn't be forced to take religion. That should be free

choice. "Maybe we'd better let Chaundra know that

Rachel isn't responding to treatment. She may need

stronger calmers. Let's face it, when the pirates arrive,

you're going to have a surfeit of problems to keep

under your eyes."

 

"I can keep my eye on more than one thing at a time,

Channa," Simeon cut in abruptly. "Simeon-Amos?"

 

He nodded. **I agree with Channa. I will speak with

the doctor of this. This is my burden, my obligation. I

will do it." He rose and disappeared into his room,

shoulders bowed.

 

Channa shook her head, "You'd think he was send-

ing her off to be executed."

 

"Who knows how his people view psych treatment?

Confession seems to be a major element in their

religion. To him, treating this as a medical problem

could be equivalent to blasphemy."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

259

 

"Hmph." She turned to squint at his column. "By

the way, don't try to tell me that you didn't enjoy that lit-

tle interruption, Simeon. I know you too well by now."

 

"Okay." His voice was downright cheery.

 

She smiled rueful jy. "Just don't make a habit of it,

 

okay?"      i

 

"There are no guarantees in life, Channa."

 

"Oh, no? If I ever get the idea that you're engineer-

ing any more little disruptions of my love life, /

guarantee that you'll regret it."

 

"Hey, be reasonable, Channa! What could I possibly

have to do with Rachel going bonkers? I didn't even let

her into the lounge. I could have, y'know."

 

Channa shrugged and grunted.

 

"I thought about not telling you she was trying to

beat the door down, I really did. But then I figured

she'd go grab a laser and cut her way in. And, of course,

if she had caught you two in flagrante delicto, she

wouldn't have stopped at cutting up doors."

 

"Oh, thank you, Simeon, you are such a hero, saving

me from a fete worse than death and death itself. Con-

sider yourself hugged and slobbered over in an ecstasy

of gratitude."

 

"That's short for 'my attitude's back,' isn't it?"

 

She got up and started for her room. "Yes, Simeon,

my attitude's back."

 

"Well, why? What did I do?"

 

She spun on her heel and threw up her hands. "I'm

horny, all right? I'm horny and I'm frustrated!" The

door snapped shut behind her.

 

Simeon shut down his pickups in the lounge, escap-

ing the charged atmosphere in the only way he could.

Sheesh, he thought. Softshells -were strange.

 

CHAPTER FlrffcEN

 

"Nothing, Great Lord. Nothing but rebroadcasts of

the same warning message."

 

Tsssk. You have had no success in monitoring inter-

nal communications?"

 

"No, Great Lord."

 

This time Baila's voice held a slight touch of resent-

ment This was no backwater, no half-barbarian slum

that used electro-magnetic signals for internal com-

munication. This was a sophisticated Central Worlds

installation they were planning to attack. It had inter-

nal optical circuitry. What did the Great Lord expect

her to do? Fly over to the station and burn her way

through to tap a line?

 

We are all impatient, Belazir thought. The Clan

impulse was to leap upon the prey and take it Loot it

bare, move on. They had been very successful follow-

ing that course of action for a long time.

 

"Any other ships?"

 

"None since that freighter who acknowledged their

warning beacon and sheered off," she said.

 

"Serig."

 

"Command me, lord." The verbal formula was more

than routine in Serig's mouth; he fairly quivered with

anticipation.

 

"We will move in exactly one-point-five hours from

next day-cycle termination." This was about three hours

Terran Standard time, since Kolnar rotated more slowly

than Manhome. "All vessels to launch their seekers simul-

taneously and then begin subspace jamming pulses.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

261

 

Cftwigter and Age of Darkness will remain on combat over-

^vatch, ready to provide fire support as necessary. Dreadful

Bricte and Shark will move in to the upper and lower polar

axis respectively and force-dock, then occupy the station.

Here are the areas tabesjcured."

 

His hands keyedja sequence, and the schematic of

the SSS-900-C was overlaid with color-coded plans for

movement.

 

"Move swiftly! Crush any sign of resistance with

utmost force. If resistance slows the infantry down,

secure those decks and blow them open to space. I will

be with the second wave at the north polar axis."

 

"Lord."

 

"Captain Lord Pol is not to disembark before the tar-

get is fully secured. Those are my orders. Repeat them

to her in the message."

 

"I hear and obey, Great Lord," Serig said. He made a

few notes to himself. "Tightbeam?"

 

"Of course."

 

"I may lead the assault party?"

 

Belazir and his henchman shared an identical wolf

grin. "Of course."

 

Joseph ben Said nodded gravely. "I am glad that you

have shown me these things, Joat."

 

Joat looked downshaft between her legs Ñ it was the

only way to see the Bethelite's face since they were both

climbing up Ñ and smiled cockily. They had paused at

this intersection with two small feeder ducts so she

could give him directions. He had hooked one thick

arm around a rung so he could squint down the other

shafts.

 

"You learn pretty quick," she said. "Hey, and you

don't get fordled up in a tight spot, neither."

 

Joseph's square fece split in a raptor's smile. *Joat-

my-friend, where I grew up one learned quickly, or

one died. Also I spent much time in narrow places.

 

262

 

AjmeMcCaffrey&SM. Storting

 

Sewers and tunnels, rather than ductwork, but the

principle is the same."

 

"Yeah, I guess we got a lot in common," she said. You,

poor bastard, she added to herself. -Not aloud. Evidently

these oscos were sensitive about Iqiguage.

 

"But I am surprised that you can move with such

freedom when any section can be closed off and air-

evacuated," Joseph went on. He cracked his

thick-fingered hands reflexively, and took out a long

curved knife to trim a callus. "And then there are the

maintenance servos, also centrally controlled."

 

"Yeah, well, you gotta look at that sort of thing from

the bottom up," Joat said. "Follow me."

 

They muscled upward, back and legs against

opposite side of the passageway, then crawled out into

a slightly wider connecting way.

 

"See? There's the seal," she said, running one finger

along the edge of the octagonal opening where the two

ducts crossed.

 

"Ah." Joseph peered more closely. "I see Ñ a thin

sheet?"

 

"Naw, interlocking pointed wedges, 's stronger or

some fardling thing. Don't get in the way if it's gonna

dose. They don't have no safety pressure stops here

where people aren't supposta be, so they'll cut you

right in half."

 

Joseph nodded, continuing his examination. "And

this?" He touched a slight bulge.

 

"Access panel. Here."

 

Joat brought up a square piece of electronics from

her harness and touched it The bulge withdrew into

the wall. Inside were readouts, a keypad, and a

datajack. She squirmed until her backpack was on the

floor between her knees, then pulled out a jackline

from her Spuglish and clipped it into the socket

 

The machine lit. Hello, Joat, scrolled across it.

Simeon's gone bye-bye wurfi

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

26S

 

"What is that?" Joseph said, fascinated.

 

"I usta think it was Simeon in a grudly strange come-

down," Joat said, her fingers flying in a rapid

taptaptapt^tiptip. "Only it isn't. 'S just a really neato AI

program running ©a the station main computers.

Fools ya, y'know? ^eaTeasy to get to thinking it's a real

person, but it isn't. Smart piece of junk, but I can get

around it. When it thinks you're Simeon, it really

comes down as an animal"

 

Hello, Simeon, the screen printed. What's up, boss?

Huh? Huh?

 

Joat's fingers scrambled. Nothing much, she keyed.

Updating Shame on Me, she added.

 

Don't rightly know that one, pardner, the machine

replied. Uhyip. The tip of Joat's tongue was clenched

between her teeth in a rictus of concentration. At last,

she leaned back and sighed, cracking her fingers two-

handed.

 

"Now it thinks I'm Simeon again," she said.

 

" 'Shame on Me'?" Joseph enquired.

 

"Fool me once," Joat said, quoting, "shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on me."

 

Joseph's laugh was quiet and appreciative. Joat felt

the quiet glow of satisfaction you only got from another

operator. Seld was neat, but he wasn't a ... Well, he

wasn't grown up, in the special way Joseph was grown

up. She'd known a lot of people who were grown-up

that way, but Joseph was the first one she had ever liked

or trusted.

 

"So you manipulate the system through the central

computer?" he said.

 

"Naw, not most of the time. Too con-spick-cue-us.

Finkin' obvious, in fact. There's a distributed node sys-

tem, fambly thousands of little compus, all got backup

authority, if you can cut in. And nobody cuts in like

jack-of-all-trades, my man."

 

Joseph clapped a hand on her shoulder. She

 

264

 

AnneMcCaffny &f S-Af. Stirimg

 

stiffened and stared at it. He took it away, not snatching

or lingering, either.

 

"How did you pick this up?" he said in admiration,

pointing at her Spuglish.

 

"Dad." Fdrdlmg swiney. "Learned more from the

bastard who won me from my uncle," she said. "He was

smart, really smart, when he wasnX drunk or... well,

when he was sober. Knew his way around any system

there was. Never got caught, except once."

 

"Who by?" Joseph asked.

 

Joat turned her face toward him, and for a moment

it was not a child's face at all. "Me," she said softly. "He

forgot me. And I cracked his system. They think he's

still alive. He went thataway out the lock, peeing blood.

His ship's computer said everything was fine."

 

"Well," Joseph said with a cold smile, "if it's good

enough for the official records, it's good enough for

me. Now, show me how you decouple the local subsys-

tems again."

 

"Like, it's got to be physical," Joat went on, animated

again. "YouÑ"

 

"I am glad to see you two are friends," Amos said.

 

Joat and Joseph had walked in the door laughing

uproariously, slapping each other on the shoulder.

 

Joseph smiled at his leader and bowed formally,

hand on heart. "My brother, you have done me a great

favor by introducing me to this young sorceress," he

said. "And our cause."

 

"You guys are brothers?" Joat asked suddenly.

 

"No," was the spontaneous answer from Channa,

Simeon, and Amos.

 

"Oh?" Joat looked from one to the other, frowning

slightly, then she shook her head dismissing the prob-

lem. "Yeah, we had a great time!" she went on. *Joe

here picks things up pretty good, for a grown-up."

 

"For a grown-up?" Amos said, raising a brow.

 

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

 

265

 

"You know," Joat explained kindly, "for somebody

who's old"

 

Amos pursed his lips. He was a year older than

Joseph. "I am glad to see you found him worthy," he

said dryly. _ Ç,j

 

"Yeah, I did. JojU frowned. "Can I ask you some-

thing?" she said.

 

"By all means, foster daughter of Channa," Amos

said.

 

"Most grown-ups are funny about kids knowing

things," she said. "You aren't. How come?"

 

Amos blinked. "You are... what, twelve?" he said.

 

"'Bout. Gets hard to tell when you do a lot of FTL 'n

some coldsleep."

 

"At your age, I was running my family's estates,"

Amos said. "Of course, 1 would not have been, had my

father lived. Sons of poorer folk are apprenticed at

twelve, doing a day's work and paying for their own

food. Should I be surprised if you can do likewise?"

 

Joat glowed. "At last" she said, turning triumphantly

to Channa. "Told you I'd learn more doing a real job!"

 

"What did I say?" Amos asked, flinching at the glare

Channa leveled at him.

 

"Promised I'd go catch Seld," Joat said, wolfing down

the last of her breakfast and sticking a few pieces of

fruit in the pockets of her shapeless overall. "Ta-ta, all."

 

"Speaking of the Chaundras," Channa said mean-

ingfully, glancing at Amos. "I have to run. MoreÑack!

pftht! Ñ meetings. Don't forget"

 

Joseph waited until silence had fallen again, then

looked at Amos with concern. "Something is wrong

with you, my brother?"

 

Amos looked at his plate. "No," he said. He gestured

Joseph to a seat, but stood himself, his hands clasped

behind his back. "There is nothing wrong with me.

This concerns Rachel." He held up his hand to forestall

 

266

 

Aime McCaffrty 6? 5M. Stirling

 

Joseph's protest. "Let me finish. She came here the

other night, furious, raving. She claimed we were

betrothed. Her eyes, Joseph! They were wild, and she

shook . .. her face was so white."-.He looked at his

friend. "Our Rachel is shaking to njeces before our

eyes. I am going to tell Chaundra what I have told you,

and if he decides that she needs treatment, then she

shall have it"

 

Joseph nodded jerkily, resting his face in one hand.

His shoulders moved convulsively, then he steadied.

 

"I am grateful that you sbare your thoughts with

me," he said. "Though you now stand as her father."

 

"We have no Healer of Souls here, Joseph," Amos

said with deep remorse.

 

"So Rachel must lose her soul's privacy before an

infidel, an outsider," Joseph replied.

 

"I had not thought you so pious."

 

Joseph sighed, shaking his head wearily. "It is strange

how ingrained is the training of one's childhood. At the

last, I find I, too, am a son of the Temple."

 

"If you truly are against such procedures, I will not

force her," Amos said.

 

Joseph rose and gave Amos the embrace ofbrothers.

"Thank you," he said, "but, if my heart rebels, my mind

tells me you are right... damnably right That is an

irritating habit you have, Amos ben Sierra Nueva."

 

Amos grinned. "So I have been told. To myself not

least, brother. Do you wish to be with her?"

 

Joseph hesitated, then shook his head. "No," he said,

after a moment "As she is... it would be no kindness. I

will continue with my work." His mouth quirked.

"Work is truly the mercy of God, as the Prophet said.

No?"

 

"I find more truth in his words every time I return to

them," Amos replied seriously, his hand on the other

man's shoulder. "Truth too strong for the chains of

dogma. Go in peace."

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

267

 

To make ready for war," Joseph observed.

 

Amos laughed ruefully. "Another truth the Prophet

left us: 'Ifyou would have peace, then prepare for war/ "

 

"What a pity the Elders thought that meant the

spiritual struggle alone," Joseph said.

 

"The Prophetwas a ftirprisingly practical man,"

Amos observed. "I strive to emulate him."

 

"You do so. You do so very well," Joseph replied and

bowed formally: a rare gesture between them.

 

"Let's $o get Seld Chaundra," Joat suggested when

Joseph caught up to her at the elevator. "We're sup-

posed to go into hiding when the pirates show up, so

he'll need to see this stuff, too."

 

"I have no objection," Joseph said mildly.

 

"You and Simeon-Amos fighting about something?"

she asked blundy.

 

"No." Joseph shrugged. "We are angry together, at

what is and cannot be changed."

 

"Yeah, life's like that," Joat observed.

 

They reached the main corridor and took two

people movers down from the wall. Joseph looked a lit-

tle dubious as he stepped onto the disk. As it silently

lifted from the floor, he gripped the handhold tightly

with one broad spatulate hand. Joat showed Joseph the

address to tap to reach the Chaundras' home. The litde

floatdisks took off, dodging agilely through traffic and

summoning elevators when their route took to the

upper decks.

 

Seld himself opened the door.

 

"Hi," he said somewhat nervously.

 

"Hi, this is Joseph ben Said," Joat said indicating the

swarthy man beside her. "Simeon-Amos suggested that I

take him round, and I thought you might like to come."

 

"Aw, I'd love to," he said, all eagerness which dis-

solved the next moment. "I can't I'm grounded."

 

"You're what?" Joat asked, puzzled.

 

268

 

AnneMcCaffrey &SM. Stating

 

Seld blushed to the roots of his auburn hair; the

colors dashed horribly. "I'm being disciplined. I can't

leave our quarters."

 

Joat's expression was amused andaghast. Glad I don't

have parents, she thought. / won't get stigk someplace I don't

want to be.

 

"Geeze, Seld, your dad can't seemj&o get it right First

it's too much 'go,' now it's too mucn stay." She shook

her head in awe. "You can't win playing that way. So

come anyhow," she added, cocking her head at him.

 

"I can't," he repeated, glancing nervously at Joseph.

The Bethelite crossed his arms and looked at the ceil-

ing, humming an idle tune.

 

"He's okay," Joat assured him. "Why not?"

 

"'Cause Dad's gonna call and check up on me."

 

Joat rolled her eyes. "So call in to the answering

machine ev'ry so often. If he's called, you can call back

and say he caught you in the head. He's so worried

about your safety, Seld, he should worry more if you

don't know this. You gotta know your way around the

backside of the station. Hey! If it really bothers you we

can ask Simeon to help, or Joseph ... ?" She turned

appealing eyes up to his.

 

Joseph uncrossed his arms. "I believe it could be put

to your father Ñ" He broke off, his eyes focused on

some one in the corridor beyond Joat. "Rachel?"

 

Rachel bint Damscus stopped, looking him coldly up

and down. "Well, Joseph ben Said. I wonder, do you

have any messages that you are withholding from me?"

 

He was nonplussed. "Whatever are you talking

about, my lady?"

 

"No lady of yours, peasant," she said, spitting the last

word at him, her eyes wide and flashing. "Amos told me

that he had delegated you to inform me that he was

moving in with that lanky, sallow-faced slut. But you,

apparently, chose not to tell me. Why is that?"

 

"We are at war," he said shortly. "Time is short.

 

THE Cm WHO FOUGHT

 

269

 

Rachel bint Damscus, be known to Joat," he said, ges-

turing courteously to her, "the foster daughter of

Simeon. Be known also to Seld Chaundra."

 

Rachel looked at the two young people as though he

had introduced her to a pair of rodents. "Simeon... ?"

she said, picking up whit was important to her.

 

"Yes," he hissed In a whisper, moving closer to her.

Nat now, his expression said. Spare these children.

 

"Who is this 'Simeon* that everyone addresses with

such respect?"

 

"He and Channa run the station," Joat told her.

 

"Ah," Rachel said, looking at her with a false smile,

"does that make you the whore's foster-daughter, too?*

 

Joseph's hand moved very quickly, deflecting Joat's

hand, which was halfway to delivering what it held.

 

"Drop it," he said. "Now, Joat."

 

Struggling against his grip, Joat drew her lips back from

her teeth, but she had to comply. The grip on her wrist was

not tight enough to hurt, but it had the implacable solidity

of a mechanical grab. The Bethelite wrenched the small

squarebox from her with his other hand.

 

"Weapon?" he said, turning it over briefly. "Do not

strike without thinking, Joat. And rarely from anger.

That causes problems, always." He handed her back

the gadget "Wait."

 

Rachel's face had turned an ugly mottled color,

partly from fright and partly from being humiliated.

Her complexion went brick-red as Joseph grabbed

her by the upper arm and began to pull her further

down the corridor.

 

"Take your hands from my arm, peasant," she shouted.

Joseph ignored her stolidly, as he did her attempts to halt

their movement "Let goofme!" she shrieked.

 

Passersby turned at the sound of her voice. Joseph

cast a look up and down the corridor. There was little

privacy here and none within easy reach. He released

her arm and spoke in a firm low voice.

 

270

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM Stating

 

"My lady, you are not yourself. The coldsleep

medications have affected your ... balance. Please,

accompany me to the sickbay and Ñ"

 

"Yes! Back to the infidel doctor,.,so he can drug me,

poison me, leave so-wonderful Amo&to wallow between

the thighs of thats/w*, thata^wn?Ñ

 

He reached out a hand, a pleading gesture. Rachel

 

¥¥    i*    " tj

 

struck it away with the contempt she would have dealt

a spider.

 

"Don't touch me, you peasant whore's-get! You

make me sick. Don't touch me>"

 

She struck again, a hard ringing slap across his face,

backhanding him again and again. Joseph's head moved

only a little on his thick muscular neck, although a trickle

ofblood started from his nose and the corner ofhis mouth.

On the fourth slap, he caught her hand. She began to

thrash, trying to free herself from that implacable grip. He

turned her hand, exposing bleeding cuts where her

knuckles had smashed against teeth and bone.

 

"My lady," he said, cutting through her shrill cries.

"Strike me if you will, but you will hurt your hand

using it so. Here, take this."

 

His free right hand made a small flip, and a knife

appeared in it: a short leaf-bladed dagger with a plain

leather-wrapped hilt, looking sharp enough to cut

light. Rachel shrieked and pulled back again, but

Joseph's hand made another movement, holding out

the hilt. He waited, his eyes on hers. Silence fell broken

only by Rachel's rapid, gasping breath. The bystanders

were crowding away, their voices sunk to a murmur.

Then Rachel pulled loose and ran, blundering into a

corner as she scrambled out of sight down a side aisle.

 

Joseph clicked the knife into its wrist-sheath, his eyes

thoughtful. Wiping his face on a kerchief, he returned

to the two adolescents.

 

"1 don't think I like her," Joat said laconically.

 

"I apologize," he said quietly. "Lady Rachel was

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

271

 

gendy reared. She is suffering from stress and adverse

reactions to medication."

 

"She's bughouse," Joat said bluntly. He's gone on her,

she thought- Geh! What afardlm' waste. People should

reproduce the way bacteria did, splitting cells. That was

cleaner. Even angrudies like Joe got strange when

they had the hots. *

 

Joseph frowned at her. "Negative reaction, as I said.*1

 

"Yeah, bughouse, like I said.... Okay, forget it How

did you do that thing with the knife?"

 

"Spring-loaded sheath," Joseph said, obviously

relieved to change the subject. He bent back his wrist

and showed them.

 

Joat glanced at Seld, caught his eye. He shook his

head in silent agreement. Adults! They're nuts.

 

Channa stumbled into the lounge and fell facefirst

into the cushions of the couch. "I hate commuting," she

said with a theatrical groan.

 

"Hah!" was Simeon's mocking comment. "Call that

commuting? Why, in my grandfathers' day..."

 

"In your grandfathers' day," she said pulling herself

into a sitting position, "they probably commuted by

ox-cart through subspace and drifts of snow fourteen

feet high, and that was in high summer, being dive

bombed by stinging insects the size of ore-freighters,

just to borrow a cup of sugar from their next-door

neighbor three light years away. I," she said, indicating

herself with a delicate hand and a raised eyebrow, "am

not as hardy. And 1 hate to commute."

 

"Not a problem I'm likely to have," he commented.

 

"No!" she agreed.

 

"So I should just offer sympathy and under-

standing," he suggested.

 

"Absolutely, and I, of course, will accept this with

gratitude as the very balm my bruised and battered

spirit craves."

 

272

 

Anne McCaffiq &f 5M. Stirling

 

"Poor baby."

 

"Ah," she sighed. "Well! I feel better. What's new on

the home front?"

 

"Apparently Joat's gotten Selchgrounded until he

turns twenty-one."      3*

 

"How'd she manage that?"

 

"Chaundra disciplined him foff itaying behind and

she talked him into exploring the station with her and

Joseph."

 

"Poor Seld. What's Joat's reaction?"

 

"Oh, it's all her fault, she's got the kiss of death or

something...."

 

"Seld staying behind is her fault?"

 

"No, no. It's all her fault. The minute we decided to

adopt her, Bethel was attacked, so that Amos escaped,

the pirates chased him and the station is now

endangered. You see the logical sequence of events.

One of her depressed moods."

 

Those tended to be temporary but of unpredictable

duration.

 

"I can't deny," she said, fighting a laugh, "that the

logic's inescapable when the data is structured in that

fashion."

 

They were still laughing when Amos came in.

 

"What causes such merriment?" he asked, grinning.

 

Channa looked at his handsome face, and it seemed

to her that for a moment the station stood still.

 

"Oh," Simeon told him, "the horrors of being

twelve."

 

Amos shuddered. "Indeed," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Would that all horrors were both so transient and so

amusing in retrospect. I fell in love with the cook.

When that was over, I decided I was religiously

inspired Ñ and never recovered from that."

 

Channa gave an involuntary snort of laughter,

glanced over at him to be sure, then dissolved in

whooping gales of laughter.

 

THE CnY WHO FOUGHT

 

273

 

"At least," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of

her hand, "you don't take yourself too seriously."

 

"I cannot afford to," Amos said, bowing with hand on

breast "Far too many others do. If dieir prophet cannot

laugh at himself now and then, they are lost as weH."

 

"My adolescence ^s^vorse," Simeon said. They

turned and looked at tfce pillar. "Imagine my pure,

unsullied, young self thrust among hardened asteroid

 

miners."

 

"It certainly left its mark," Channa said dryly.

"No one escapes without being marked," Amos said

 

wisely.

 

"And no one gets out alive," they all said together.

 

"Are you talking about the station?" Joat asked in

horror, emerging from her room.

 

"No, no," Channa said. "Life." Teenage life, actually,

but let's not be specific right now.

 

Joat began to rearrange Channa's desk, banging

down the implements.

 

"It's so stupid!" she said, clattering a note organizer

screen down.

 

"What is?" Simeon said, soothingly. Sometimes that

tone annoyed Joat so much she forgot what was trou-

bling her. This time she was too focused.

 

"Seld," she said. "I mean, this could be the last week

of our lives and Seld is locked in his room! What a great

way to go! Y'know?"

 

No one answered her. Channa and Amos wouldn't

meet her eyes. A look of mild exasperation crossed her

features and she tried another tack.

 

"Look, I need him," she said earnestly. "He's really

pretty good, in ajunior-grudly way, hey? I want to help.

Y'know? So, I thought we, Seld and me, could ..." She

stopped, tapped her fingertips together and stared

upward, biting her lip. "I thought we could maybe make

up some of those signal disrupters I use," she said in a

rush.

 

274

 

Anne McCaffrey &? SM. Stating

 

"You mean the ones that keep me from seeing or

hearing you?"

 

"Yeah," Joat appeared fascinated by her fingernails,

"Those."

 

'Joat, you could do that in the engineering lab.

Anyone there will be happy t5* help you. If we get

enough people assembling thje elements, we could

make quite a few in the time we h'ave left."

 

"No," Joat said and sat down, looking right at Simeon's

column. "I mean, I like the idea of working in the

engineering lab, don't getpae wrong on that But the sig-

nal disruptor is my idea, and I'm not going to just give it

away. I know I'mjust a kid, but I know you don't dothat."

 

"I'm not going to let anybody steal the credit for your

invention, Joat. I fully intend to watch out for your

interests. I give you my word on that"

 

"Thank you," she said simply. A silence fell, oddly

solemn. After a moment, Joat continued, "Y'know, it's

probably not a good idea to have too many of them

around. I mean, the more there are, the more likely

some jerk will lose one and the pirates will find it and

figure it out, then where'U we be?"

 

"A valid point," Channa said judiciously.

 

"So," Joat slapped her legs, then rubbed her palms

up and down her thighs, "what I thought was, Seld and

me could make up enough for you guys," she turned

to point at Amos and then at Channa, "and as many of

the councilreps or team leaders as we can." She looked

at the adults' faces, checking their expressions, then

turned to Simeon's column. "Whaddaya say?"

 

"I'd say you're a heartless hard-bargainer, a blackmailer,

and a techno-witch. That said, I'D talk to Chaundra, and I

think hell allow Seld to assist on an authorized project But

use more sense next time, Joat. When I adopt you, you're

going to have limits, too. Oh, and don't work him too hard.

He's just not..." Simeon tried to finish the caution

diplomatically "... the hardy type."

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

275

 

"I know," she said softly, nodding solemnly. "Ill take

care of him, I promise." Then she smiled a tight,

professional-looking little smile, and rose. "Well, good-

night, everybody."

 

"Goodnight," they wished her in return.

 

When-the door ha4 closed behind her, Amos looked

warmly at Channi, then dropped his eyes. "I, too, am

weary, and there is still so much to learn."

 

"Do what you can," Channa advised, "and play the

rest by ear."

 

"And don't forget," Simeon told him, "all you have to

do is ask and I'll try to help. Channa, why don't you

give him that contact button now?"

 

"Yes." From a desk drawer, she took a small box,

which she presented to Amos.

 

"We should probably give one to both Joat and

Seld," Simeon suggested.

 

Channa nodded.

 

Amos took out the small button curiously.

 

"That gadget will let me see what you see, hear what

you hear, and respond in relative privacy," Simeon told

him.

 

"It is so small," Amos said, examining the tiny device.

 

"But so effective," Simeon answered through the

button.

 

Startled, Amos dropped it.

 

"I can see that it could be very useful," he said,

laughing as he retrieved it. "Thank you, Simeon."

 

Channa hesitated. "See you in the morning."

 

"Yes, altogether too briefly," he replied, giving her a

rueful bow.

 

Channa yawned hugely and looked up at the time

display. Evening again already! Almost time for dinner.

Hopefully it would be more cheerful than breakfast,

which had been subdued in the extreme. "Gods,

another day gone? Where is everyone?"

 

276

 

Anne McQffiey &SM. Stirling

 

"Amos is on his way back home and should be here

any second," Simeon said. "Joat is committing

illegalities in the engineering lab, chortling madly with

Seld, when I can pick them up at all Siie'll be back here

to eat, or so I believe her plan to be." ^

 

Channa stretched. "I need a break." She flopped

into an easy chair and said, "Woul$ you put on the

'Hebrides Suite/ please?"

 

He listened to it for a moment and said, "This is

 

nice.

 

*One of my favorites. My great-grandmother once

told me that this music held the soul of Earth's oceans

in its phrases. I've loved it ever since."

 

"Your great-grandmother was from Earth, Channa?"

"No, but she'd been there. Oh, this is my favorite

partÑa litde louder, Sim."

 

She raised her hand, palm up to show that he should

raise the volume again, and again. The door opened

on Amos, who stepped backward as though the mag-

nificent swell of sound had washed him out on a wave

of music.

 

Channa laughed at his startled expression and sig-

naled Simeon to lower the sound. "Sorry," she called.

 

Amos poked his head incautiously, "Whew!" he said.

"Channa, it is dangerous to play music at such volume.

Your hearing will be impaired."

 

She made a face at him. "Don't be a priss, Simeon-

Amos. No one ever lost their hearing on classical

music."

 

"Beethoven?" Simeon suggested.

"Hah!" she said. "You men all stick together," and

stumbled to the galley for coffee. When she had doc-

tored it with cream liqueur and whipped Jersey

floating on the surface, she took an appreciative sip.

"Ah! That's good!" Although when I learned where Jersey

originally came from, Inearly lost -my lunch, she added to

herself Simeon had picked up on her tastes quickly.

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

277

 

"Now, that is something I feel I've missed out on,"

Simeon said.

 

"Mmmh?"

 

"Coffee, food, everyone who sits down to dinner at

¥the Perimeter says, 'Wow! That smells good!' closely

foDowed by 'MnimfThft is delicious!' and I haven't got

an analogue for either of those sensations. Smell and

taste Ñ you'd think they could have given me one of

'em. Oh, 1 can taste when something's offin the chemo-

synthesis plants, and I can smell an ion-trail, but it's not

the same'thing. Sometimes the people at Medic Central

are downright inhumanly utilitarian."

 

"Why don't you put Joat on it?" Channa suggested.

 

"Put me on what?" Joat asked, arriving at that point.

 

"I was just saying that I've missed out on tasting

coffee, or smelling it even, everyone says it smells so

good. I don't even know what that means. I just

can't get my mind around the concept. I don't like

the feeling that I'm being denied one of life's

greatest pleasures. However, the thought of anyone

poking about with my neural interfaces is enough to

keep the thought merely wistful."

 

Channa and Amos locked eyes a moment, then flick-

ed away. Not before Simeon had caught the look.

 

"That's terrible," Joat said sympathetically, "'though,

maybe if you gave me your specs..."

 

"Now, sex... sex provides a lot of mental pleasure."

Simeon continued with relish. "I'd be willing to bet that

I get almost as much sexual pleasure out of my own

imagination as anyone does actually having it."

 

Joat made a derisive grimace.

 

"I'd say in your dreams, Simeon, but that would be

redundant," Channa said archly, making her way back

to her desk. "What have you got there?" she asked,

pointing to the box in Joat's hand.

 

"Oh, this is something for you guys." Joat opened it

to display the two short, gleaming metal rods, perhaps

 

278   Anne McCaffrey 6? SJV1 Stirimg

 

three centimeters long, with crystals at either end. Joat

looked at Channa expectantly.

 

Channa took one out of the box, turning it over. In

the center of the rod was a small gap, bridged by a nar-

row tube which joined its two halves She touched the

crystals experimentally, then lookeoqueringly at Joat

"It's pretty?" she asked, puzzled at its use.

 

Joat laughed. "Seld said we should make 'em into

jewelry, but I figured we didn't have time to experiment

with the effect that might have. I wear mine in a sheath in

my boot" She tugged up her^pant-leg and pulled down

the cuffof her boot to show the top of an identical wand.

 

"How does this artifact of yours work?" Amos asked

her, picking up the other.

 

"You push the two halves togedier to make a contact"

 

Amos did so. There was a click as the two halves

came together to form a smooth even surface. He

looked at Channa and Joat, then at himself "Is ... is it

working?"

 

"Ask him,** Joat said, jerking her thumb at Simeon's

 

column.

 

"Simeon?"

 

Simeon didn't answer because he hadn't heard the

question. He had, however, seen Amos wink out of

existence, and he was experiencing some very uncom-

fortable feelings about that disappearance. Suddenly,

he was unsure that he wanted anyone besides Joat to

have this ability. Such disappearances definitely gave

him the willies.

 

"Apparently not," Channa said, pleased. She clicked

her own rod together and vanished from Simeon's

sight and hearing.

 

Amos leaned close to her. "I can already see much

potential for his device." His smiling eyes were warm

and full of meaning.

 

"Seld and me knocked seven of these off today," Joat

explained to Simeon. "We'll contrapt more tomorrow,

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

279

 

now that we've found the parts we need. What's the

matter?" she asked in response to Simeon's groan.

 

"Sorry, Joat, seven is pretty good really, and there's

nothing to say that we can't share these around. Right,

Channa? Channa? OUie-ollie in-free!"

 

Channa grinned srmigly at Amos. "He really can't

see us, can he?" Then she pulled gently at the rod.

 

"How nice of you to drop in," Simeon said in a sour

tone. Damned if Til let you know how much that bothers me.

 

"Sorry," Channa said. "I know it bothers you," she sub-

vocalized. Somehow Sim connected it with being cut off

from his sensory input. Me, now Fm a sensory input? She

turned to Joat. "Urn, do you actually have to have it on

your person for it to work? Or would it work if, say I

had it on the desk beside me?"

 

"It should keep you disappeared if you stay very

dose to it. You're not really blanked out It's more like a

local override command to the sensor not to record

you, you know? I didn't really measure it very close."

Joat gave a self-deprecating twitch of her hands. "I

need more theory and stuff, I know."

 

"Well, I'm impressed, Joat" She clapped her hands

together. "Let's celebrate, and send out for dinner." She

took the rod out of Amos's hands and unsnapped it

 

"You know," Simeon commented as Amos reap-

peared, "this invention of Joat's could be the biggest

boon to burglars since hacking."

 

Channa froze, then looked over at Joat. The girl

managed to look sweet, innocent and furtive at the

same moment. It was true. AI-driven surveillance was

universal in public places. So were attempts to

counteract it Joat's seemed to work better than most

Of course, once the device was publicized, counter-

measures would be initiated. No wonder Joat wanted to

keep her ace-in-the-hole secret.

 

Well, of course, she steals! Simeon whispered in her ear.

How did you think she survived before you took a hand?

 

280

 

Asme McCaffrty &SM. Stating

 

"Like many swords," Amos agreed, "it is two edged.

But, they will be of help, and I shall enjoy testing

mine." He smiled at Channa.

 

Channa looked at Simeon's column. *Just think, well

be able to keep secrets from youjSim. How will you

stand it?"

 

Amos tiptoed carefully out of Joat's room. "She never

woke," he said ina hall-whisper. "I put a blanket over her."

 

Channa shook her head. Joat's subconscious seemed

to know who to trust This evening was the first time

she had noticed die girl sleeping with the limp, irresis-

tible finality of the trusting child. She'd also had along,

hard, if triumphant, day.

 

"I thought she'd never get enough of your stories

about Bethel," she said. And neither would I. It didn't

have the urban sophistication of Senalgal, but Amos

could make his world and his way of life sound...

beautiful, she decided. Of course, he was an eloquent

man, and he was describing what he truly loved. He

had described what she had always yearned for in a

planet-side posting: the hugeness, the variousness, the

alweness of a breathing world.

 

"It was as much for me as for her," Amos said, leaning

back on the sofa and raising his face to the ceiling, eyes

dosed. "I speak, and I see what can never be again."

 

She put a hand on his. "Bethel will be freed and

made beautiful again. The Kolnar only stripped the

surface, not the nature of the planet"

 

"Yes. Yes, I believe Ñ must believe that." His fingers

curled around hers; fine long-fingered hands, a little

calloused.

 

from riding horses, she thought A sport she had only

read of before. Simeon had provided holos, and riding

looked more dangerous and exciting than piloting

mini-shuttles.

 

"Yet when the enemy are driven off, the wounds... and

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

281

 

beyond that We need to change, we must change. More

than I thought or wished, and I was a rebellious youngster,

a radical, a breaker of images, or so they called me." He

turned his head to her. "The enormity of the task ahead

fhghcensme, overwhelms me. Yetwithhelp..."

 

Oh, great, shethougAt. To herself: "Lost prince of

beautiful, exotic& planet, seeks helpmate/com-

panion/lover to assist in rescue/reconstruction.

Requires intelligent, forceful manager with strong

sense of duty. Will furnish lifelong love and affection,

plus palaces, estates, interesting experiences. Apply

Amos ben Sierra Nueva." What was that quotation?

Get thee behind me, Satan?

 

Amos sat quietly beside her and placed Joat's box in

her lap. His glance was filled with meaning. Channa

opened the box and they each took out a crystal-tipped

rod. Then diey glanced at Simeon's column with iden-

tical scheming smiles and clicked the two parts

together.

 

Amos leaned over. They kissed; she stroked his dark

hair and gently cupped the back ofhis head in her hand.

 

"It is good to have privacy," he said huskily.

 

"Yes," she agreed, "it is good." And it adds spice, she

thought Like sneaking out of bounds when you're in school.

 

Simeon watched Channa's door open and close,

though no one appeared to be near it He suppressed a

burst of resentment He had told them he'd turn off the

sensors if they requested it. But no, they'd just gone

and shut him out without a word...

 

What is the universe coming to ? he thought in irritation.

Besides, there's a child present!

 

A child who had presented him with a techno-itch he

could not scratch. On reflection, he decided the anal-

ogy was maddeningly accurate. Try as he might, his

attention came looping back to the nagging gaps in his

recordings. He was accustomed to knowing everything

 

282

 

Atme MeQtfny fc? SM. Stirling

 

THE Cnr WHO FOUGHT

 

283

 

that went on. Joat's earlier white-noise machines and

attention-deflectors were minor irritations compared

to this newest gadget Of course, she hadn't had access

to the engineering labs before this.

 

"The child was probably bopo with a microtool in

her hand," he muttered. Now, how did the wands func-

tion? Joat had, after all, given h*pi a hint She might be

a genius, but Simeon was a shellperson, with all the

computer power and experience that implied.

 

And I'm also constitutionally unable to resist picking tip the

gauntlet, he thought happily. There were times when the

only way to get nd of a temptation was to give in to it...

 

/ can't betieue this, he told himself, fifteen minutes later.

Equipment made by the best minds in the Central

Worlds flummoxed by a preteen! Which confirmed long-

held thoughts about the quality of minds attracted to the

Central Worlds bureaucracy. Simeon had long thought

that it was a private miracle he hadn't come out pros-

thetized into a camel, since the design teams were

committees. Now, he must meet this challenge.

 

Chaniia arched her back against Amos's weight, her

hands caressed the slick, silken skin of his back. He

kissed her throat and she sighed happily, ready forÑ

 

"Oh, Chaaannaaa, Iseeeyooou."

 

HAck,ckgak!"

 

Amos raised his head from the crook of her neck to

look at her. The mixture of puzzlement and sensuality

on his face looked very silly, not to mention slightly

nauseated. Simeon laughed.

 

Oh, this is terrible, Channa thought. Yet it was impos-

sible not to see the moment from Simeon's point of

view for a second. She laughed, caught between rage

and helpless mirth. Amos bobbed up and down with

her laughter. His expression assumed a martyred

quality that caused her to lose control completely.

 

"Channa," he said desperately, rolling off and holding

 

her in his arms. "Channa, my darling Ñ are you all

right?"

 

She struggled to speak, to reassure him that her sanity

was intact "Sim... Sim... he... hehe... hehehe," she

had to avoid the word he. "Sim..." she gasped, "my

implant... he... he^ie,^nmrrmph... can see us."

 

She stopped, panting and watched his look of con-

cern melt Suddenly she was slightly frightened. This

was a man accustomed to redressing insult, and his ego

had just received a terribly humiliating one.

 

"Simeonl" he roared. The door seemed to recoil

before his headlong passage, and the cooler wind from

the lounge brought goosebumps to her skin.

 

Amos picked up the first thing his hand

encountered, a vase, and threw it against Simeon's

column.

 

"You incest eater!" he bellowed. "You filthy pi dog!

BanchatT

 

Channa appeared in her doorway, wrapped in a

sheet, fve never seen a naked, erect man in a/it of rage before,

she thought dazedly. Oh, I really shouldn't have broken up.

Mengetso focused at that particular moment!

 

"How could you do something so vile! Have you no

decency?" Amos was demanding.

 

"What the hell is goin' on?" Joat asked, and stopped,

poleaxed at the sight of a naked and raging Amos.

 

Amos dived for the sheet Channa was wearing and

they tussled for it. He settled for dragging a small

corner of it over his hips.

 

He drew himself up. "Go back to bed, Joat, this does

not concern you." The pure mad anger had drained

out of his voice. Bethel had a nudity taboo, and he was

suddenly and acutely conscious of being naked before

a twelve-year-old girl.

 

"Don't take it out on her, Simeon-Amos, I'm the one

you're mad at," Simeon said.

 

Amos spun round, losing his grip on the sheet **I am

 

284   AimeMcCaffny&SM. Stating

 

unlikely to forget that!" he said between denched teeth.

 

"Nice buns," Joat murmured in abstract appreciation.

 

Channa and Amos turned to stare at her.

 

"Hey, you guys," she said blushing. "I'm young! I'm

not dead."  *

 

"What kind of people are you? Amos murmured in

shock. "Your children leer, yo#r sheUpeople are

voyeurs ..." His gaze snapped to Channa. "And you,

what sort of pervert are you?"

 

"Me? Oh, now wait just one minute, Simeon-Amos,

I'm a victim here, too." s'

 

"1 do not think so. You find this amusing, but I do

not!" Turning his back on them all, he strode to his

quarters in a fury, the door calmly swishing shut

 

behind him.

 

"Whoa!" Joat said enthusiastically. "What's a

 

voyeur?"

 

Channa's mouth firmed grimly. "A voyeur, Joat, is a

nasty-minded son of a bitch who keeps poking his nose

into private matters."

 

"Ah. Sorta like Dorgan the Organ from Child

 

Welfere."

 

Ouch, Simeon winced.

 

Channa nodded, with crisp malice. "I promise I'll

explain tomorrow, but right now I have to talk to Simeon."

 

"Oboyoboy," Joat said. "Are you ever in the deep

pucky, Simeon." She slapped his column on the way

back to her room. "Naughty, naughty!"

 

Channa hiked up the sheet and sat herself down in

one of the lounge chairs. She clasped her hands in her

lap, saying nothing, chewing her lower lip.

 

"Um," Simeon said. "He's still furious. He's throw-

ing things around in there."

 

"Stop spying on him!" Channa said irritably.

 

"I don't have to spy. Just listen."

 

It was true, even through the door the sound of objects

hitting walls could be heard. Then an ominous silence.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

285

 

After a minute, a fully dressed Amos emerged and left the

quarters without a backward glance or a further word.

Channa rose quickly and took a step in his direction.

 

"Hey! You can't follow him like that! Besides,

where'shegonnago?"

 

"Well... I suppose mis show of your vigilance was

our own fault," Channa said grimly. "We would chal-

lenge you." She smiled, a wintry expression. "I guess

you showed us."

 

Simeon gave a soft groan. "I'd rather end the eve-

ning on a positive note. I now know that I can contact

you even when their sensors can't find you."

 

"Yes, there is that application of tonight's experi-

ment," she said tiredly. Til be sure to point that out to

Simeon-Amos when next I see him. If I see him."

 

"I'm sorry, Channa," Simeon said contritely after an

awkward pause. "I was out of line."

 

"Yes, you were. For that particular activity, an invita-

tion is required."

 

"And I know that it's difficult for you folks when

coitus is interrupted."

 

She raised a brow. "Are you asking for information?"

 

"Um, nooo," he said hopefully.

 

"You are a swine, Simeon, an utter filthy pig! If you

want to know, look it up, in a medical text, skip the por-

nography," And then she gave a despairing laugh.

"Oh, God, hell never speak to me again. Where is he?"

 

"He's still on the move. At a guess, he's going to

Joseph's. Best thing for him really, a litde male bond-

ing. Maybe they'll get drunk together and complain

about how badly the women in their lives treat them."

 

"This woman in his life was treating him just fine

until you showed up!"

 

"Is it my fault he's so parochial?"

 

"Parochial!" Channa exclaimed. "Simeon, wrong

use of that word. A man, any man who is one, will take

offense at being spied on while making love. So now

 

286

 

Anne McQffiey 6? 5JVf. Stirling

 

you've called him a name, it's all his fault, and none of

your own, is that it?"

 

"No," he said calmly, "I still accept responsibility for

what I did. Let's not fight about Simeon-Amos, Channa."

 

She leaned her head against the back of the chair,

"No, let's not fight about Simeon-Amos. We don't

have time." She looked at his column from the

corner of her eye. "It occurs to me that you were

defending him not so long ago."

"Maybe I was wrong."

 

"No, you weren't. You jpaow it, too. We are putting a

lot of pressure on him when he'd arrived already under a

crushing weight. He's lost everything, Sim, a whole

world, family, friends. He blames himself for bringing the

pirates to our door. Now he's working himself into the

ground to save us from them. We should try very hard

not to subject him to these little power games we play."

"Ah... sure."

 

"Because, Simeon, if you can't, you're not the person

I thought you were. And if you aren't, I don't want to

have anything to do with you once this is over."

"Channa!"

 

"Think about it, Simeon. You're sixty-eight years

old. Grow up!"

 

Amos returned to the lounge for work the following

morning, pale, distant, and polite. Simeon found an

opportunity to apologize and convinced the Bethelite

of his sincerity, vowing never to do such a thing again.

Amos accepted the apology with the same detached

courtesy that he received Channa's explanation, then

dosed himself firmly in his room.

 

Dinner conversation that evening was so stilted that

even Joat noticed. It was still early when Channa was

left sitting alone next to the titanium pillar.

 

"Simeon, come talk to me?"

 

"Ah, she asks now instead of demanding."

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

287

 

"Your charm has humbled me," she said with a grin.

"Besides, I'm bored and really crave your company."

 

"You sure if s my company you crave?"

 

"Heh. Last night I was horny! Tonight I'm bored.

Different things, fella."

 

"I think that if I wei4 you, I'd rather be horny."

 

"Then you'd be an idiot," she said scornfully.

 

"But I wouldn't be bored."

 

She was silent a while. "Simeon, I'm scared. We

may die."

 

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm scared, too, Happy. Real

scared. We don't have much time left." Another

 

pause, and he added more brightly, "That was a

 

i ¥ i"

hint.

 

"Nah!" she said, shaking her head. "The moment

came, was interrupted, and went. Amos needs some-

one kinder than a ball-buster like me."

 

"Channa!" Simeon exclaimed, laughing and

appalled. "I wouldn't call you a ball-buster."

 

"You probably have."

 

"But that was before I knew you," he admitted.

"Rachel is a ball-buster. You're just a bit prickly."

 

"Prickly?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Maybe I am horny," she said thoughtfully. "Lordy,

all the male generative organs that are creeping into

this conversation. But you know I'm right We have to

maintain a certain distance to carry this thing off...

Simeon, say something to make me feel better."

 

"Um, how about...

 

"Stern daughter of the Voice of God!

O Duty! ifthat name thou love...

When empty terrors overawe;

From vain temptations dost setjree..."

 

"Hey!"

 

288

 

Amte McCaffrry £# SM. Stilling

 

"No huh? Wrong mood?"

 

"You might say that," she answered between

clenched teeth. "Right now, the stern voice of duty is

overrepresented in my thoughts."

 

"True. Hmm. Different mood Okay, how about

 

j&t

 

"Sound sleep by night; study and.ease

Together mixed; sweet recreation;''

And innocence, which most does please

With meditation."

 

"Sarcasmill becomes yon', Sim. Don'tyouwwnftohelp?"

"Sorry, one more try,

 

"lam ike lion, and his lair!

I am the fear that frightens me!

I am the desert of despair!

And the night of agony!

Night or day, whate'er befall,

1 must walk that desert land,

Until I dare my fear and call

The lion out to lick my hand."

 

She was silent for a long time. He could tell by her

breathing that she was not angry, and he waited for her

to think it through. At last she sighed.

 

"You know me pretty well on short acquaintance, Sim."

 

"Channa, he won't refuse you. He needs you as much

as you need him right now. I screwed the pooch! I admit

it My only excuse Ñ" she gave him a tired smile "Ñ is

that it's an area of life I'm just not equipped to under-

stand very well. Why should you both be miserable

alone, when you could be much happier together?"

 

"After last night? And don't forget, I've already

turned him down once, Simeon. He's got one free

refusal coming to him."

 

"What is this? A competitive sport? There are scores

and free throws and penalties?"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

289

 

She laughed. "Sometimes. Depends on who you

 

play with."

 

"Take up military history, Channa. It's a lot easier on

the psyche."

 

She sighed again. "Not when you're about to become

military history/ - A

 

"Oh for Christ'sfeake, Happy, get your butt off the

couch and go knock on his door! You know you want

to. C'mon, be honest."

 

"I'm going to get changed, first, at least," she said

glumly, striding into her room. "And don't call me

Happy," she called over her shoulder.

 

Why should I accommodate you on that, Channa, when Tve

noticed that, whenever I call you "Happy," you do what I tell

you. Vm not giving up an advantage tike that.

 

"Ready?" he called.

 

"What do you think?"

 

He opened a sensor inside her room. She now had

on a simple black skinsuit, but he thought it showed

her off to advantage.

 

"You'll do."

 

Channa walked glumly to the door. "Here I am,

courting rejection. You'd think I learned about that

back when I was Joat's age."

 

The door slid aside to reveal Amos on her threshold,

his hand raised to knock. They exchanged looks. After

a moment, they reached out to one another, and

touched. Amos stepped into the room and the door slid

firmly dosed.

 

They melted into an embrace that marked the first step m a

dmb to the heights of passion.

 

Simeon echoed the thought off the computer. When

it came back, it had a fruity announcer's voice. He

keyed on Ravel's "Bolero," an insinuating thread of

sound that swelled and grew in intensity and volume

until its passionate, vibrant climax. On the council

 

290

 

AnneMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

 

table, he projected scenes: palm trees crashed in the

wind and waves rolled in to welcoming shores, trains

roared into tunnels and out again, wild beasts roared in

the forests and people worked wet clay into messy

phallic symbols on spinning potters' wheels.

 

"Perfect," he decided, saving-rhe program to hard

storage. It wouldn't be tactful to show it anytime soon,

but someday they would be a lot older and more mel-

low. Providing, of course, they survived the next

weeks. Shellpeople had a lot of time to fill in. He lis-

tened to the music as it^billowed and soared and

swooned.

 

Bless you my children, he thought in the direction of

Amos and Channa. And now I will check in again with the

auxiliary bridge. Soon to be the fake/real command cen-

ter for SSS-900-C's encounter with the Kolnari.

 

eHAWERSIXTEEN

 

"Hey, Simeon," the Traffic Control watch said.

 

"Yeahjuke?"

 

"I think I've got something here."

 

Simeon shunted much of his attention to the sen-

sors. This was part of the reason no computer could

ever replace a colloidal brain; apart from the inherent

lack of self-consciousness, of course. Computers were

wonderful at collecting and collating data, but they

could never really interpret it the way a human could.

 

And there's no interface like that between a shettperson and

his extensions, Simeon thought smugly.

 

"Yeah, that is something," he said aloud. "But what?"

 

"No powerplant neutrino signatures," Juke Cielpied

said. He was a fresh-faced young man with a thatch of

blond hair. "But the mass is there, that's for Ñ Holy

shithouse.r

 

Suddenly the sleepy torpor of Communications and

Navigation was a blur of activity. "Missile signatures,

multiple, homing!"

 

Simeon made an incoherent prayer. This was it.

They might have no more than thirty seconds to live.

 

"Starting mayday call," he said, 'jammed! Engines

pulsing."

 

"Oh, boy, I'm getting powerplant signatures now"

Juke said. "They just kicked online and then steadied.

Four. Big mothers. Way overpowered for the masses,

even more than a tug."

 

"Warship engines," Simeon said grimly.

 

The missiles were streaking in from all sides. He

 

292

 

Aime McCaffny fc? 5M. Stirling

 

deployed the anti-meteor laser. Seconds later it slagged

and exploded in a spectacular burst of vaporized syn-

thetic and metal.

 

"Neutral-particle beam," Simeon said. "Damage

report follows." Thank The Bfcwers That Be that it

hadn't hit an inhabited area, at least. "Red alert. All

personnel to emergency station^."

 

This time there would be no fooling around. It was

for real.

 

Ooops.

 

Simeon activated hi&afensors in the lounge and lis-

tened, hoping that things hadn't gotten too for in the

very few moments that had passed since he'd politely

turned them off. Unfortunately, judging by the soft

sounds emerging from Channa's quarters, that was a

vain hope.

 

She'll never believe I didn't plan this, he thought, and

wavered. It's an hour before they'll be here. His sensors

showed the ships boosting at a very respectable

normal-space acceleration. But if I don't tell her, Tmgoing

to be in the same bad odor, just a different situation. A more

important situation. Okay, here goes everything. He

knocked.

 

Channa froze and Amos slowed down. "I'm going to

kill him," she said.

 

Amos chuckled and kissed her; his hips moved and

she gasped. "Why don't you ask what he wants first,"

he advised.

 

"WHAT IS IT NOW?"

 

"Uh, the enemy's just come into sensor range, four

heavily armed ships, E.T.A. forty-one minutes. Sorry,

guys, you needed to know!"

 

Channa clasped Amos to her with arms and legs.

"That's ... enough time," she gasped. "And if you...

stop I'm going to fall you."

 

The hull of the station toned like a giant bell as the

sprayshot slammed into the subspace antennae.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

293

 

Automatic alarms made their banshee wail. Dutifully

waiting with his sensors turned down, Simeon might

have mistaken Channa's high shriek, under other cir-

cumstances, for a cry of alarm.

 

"Brief us," she called %few moments later.

 

Quite brief, Simeon thought, but did not say. He

began, using a focused beam to cut through the noise

of a very quick shower.

 

The corridors had been full of rushing people. Now

their floatdisks were speeding down empty hallways,

banking at the corners in emergency-override

maneuvers as the population suited up and huddled in

their shelter-sectors. The silence held no calm, only a

tension so great that Channa expected sparks to pop

from her hair. She gripped the handhold and looked

aside at Amos. His face was set and remote, a carven

image framed by the fluttering black curls of his hair.

 

"I'm sorry," Simeon said to Channa, whispering

through her implants for the tenth time. "I wish this

hadn't happened."

 

"Oh, give it a rest, Simeon. I'm hardly going to blame

you because the rest of the universe won't organize

itself for my convenience."

 

"Sure! Sorry!"

 

She grinned. "And for future reference, buddy, I

much prefer 'Carmina Burana* to alarm klaxons as

background music."

 

The enemy warships were in plain sight now.

Simeon magnified, analyzed, and projected the results

on the big screen in the secondary control chamber.

The room was the usual shape, a C with a large virtual-

screen at the flat section and a bank of positions and

consoles. There had been a full crew here for the past

few days, to eliminate the slightly fusty air of an unused

facility. Now the circulators were working overtime to

 

294

 

Arme McCaffrcy fcf SM. Stirling

 

carry off the ketones of tension-sweat, and there were

very convincing coffee-stains and rings by most of the

recUner seats.

 

"That is the enemy," Amos said somberly.

 

The ships were very different tjpm the usual stubby

egg shape: elongated darts, with triangular vanes

swelling along most of their lengths, like flight-feathers

on an arrow. Designs scrawled across their sides in the

spike-and-curve script

 

"Yup, Kolnari naval architecture," Simeon said. He

set the computer on thejafcmes. "Phonetically: Shuk,

Kelyug, Dhriga, Rumal."

 

" Why the odd design?" Patsy said, leaning forward.

"Not your most efficient layout"

 

"It is optimized for rapid atmosphere transit,"

Simeon said grimly. "Courier Service ships are much

like that I think the Kolnari have different maneuvers

in mind for their vessels. For example, swooping down

to sack a town planet-side. Note the design's not

uniform. They probably build, or rebuild captured

hulls, as they get the chance. But it's still a class-type.

Roughly equivalent to a Navy frigate, I'd say. Bigger

hull, though; they must carry a humongous great

crew. A hundred, at least." He studied the armament

and whisded. "And, with all those weapons mountings,

they must sleep in shifts."

 

"I'm glad you've finally gotten a chance to indulge

your hobby," Channa said tighdy.

 

"I'm not," Simeon said. Odd, he thought That's true.

 

"Closing," Juke said, licking his lips. "Two of them

are orbiting the station around our notional equator.

The other two are closing at the poles. Closing fast.

HeUT

 

Exterior screens dampened to cut the energy fiux of

sudden deceleration. Alarms cheeped and burbled as

energetic particles sleeted into the exterior shielding

fields.

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

295

 

A voice roared through the hull; an induction field,

vibrating the substance of the station itself. The words

were blurred by the coarseness of the medium and by a

thick accent Itsounded like the shoutingofan angry god.

 

"SCUMVERMIN SUBMIT!" Then a feedback

squeal tore at their eardrums as the broadcaster

adjusted. "SLAVE TO THE SEED OF HIGH-CLAN

KOLNAR ARE YOU, PERSON AND NONPERSON

THING OUR POSSESSION. CEASE EXTERIOR

SCANATONCE!"

 

"What Ñ" somebody began.

 

Then the lights faded for a second. Everyone gasped

as pressure fluctuated, and the temperature rose per-

ceptibly. On the heels of the pressure wave came a

rising wave of vibration through the hull. Banks of

lights flashed from amber to red.

 

"Hit! We have been hit!" Patsy was shouting from

her environmental systems console. "Loss of pressure,

N-7 through 11!"

 

Simeon's hands itched, metaphorically. He had to

step back and let the infuriatingly slow responses of

softshells handle his station, his body. There was one

thing he could do. He cut all the active exterior sensors

immediately. Except, of course, for the one that had

just been converted to vapor along with a section of

hull.

 

"Passive scanners only," Juke said. "Th... that was a

high-energy particle beam."

 

"Chaundra here." The doctor's voice had the slight-

ly flat tone of a vacuum suit pickup. "Rescue squads in

place. The people here were all suited up. No fatalities

so for. There will be radiation problems." From second-

ary gamma sleeting, where the beam had struck

matter.

 

Channa acknowledged his report. Injuries could

have been much higher. Would have been if the war-

ship had come on them with no notice whatever. A

 

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AnneMcCaffrq fc? SJlf. Stfrfmg-

 

THE dry WHO FOUGHT

 

297

 

screen activated, showing suited forms moving down

an interior corridor, but it had the depthless bright look

of light in vacuum, no blur at the edges of the shadow.

 

The huge voice struck again. "OBEY. GENTLE

WARNINGS NONE MORE WILL BE FOREVER.

STAND BYTO BE TAKEN INTO THE FIST OF HIGH-

CLANKOLNAR, SCUMVERMIN."

 

"Eat shit and die, you fardling maniacs," Channa

muttered. Amos cast her a quick look, then nodded

and gave a thumbs-up gesture.

 

"Still closing," Juke whispered. The infrared and

other passive receptors were still working. "Closing on

the docking tubes, but inboard of the docking rings."

 

"Quick," Simeon said to Channa, like thought in her

inner ear. "Get anyone there away from the tubes."

 

"All personnel in north and south polar docking

tubes, into the core! Move!" Channa barked. Then, to

privately to Simeon: "Why?"

 

"They're going to force-dock. I've heard of it."

 

The Dreadful Bride floated dose to the docking tube.

So dose, that of a sudden she seemed small to Belazir,

waiting impatiendy in the off-corridor to the boarding

tube, with his personal guard around him. He had an

exterior feed, one of the multiple tiny screens around

the lower rim of the helmet's interior. It took long train-

ing to assimilate the information without being

distracted. His ship seemed like a tiny fleck of bright-

ness next to the huge bulk of the target.

 

"Now," he said. But a knife is smaller than a man, too, he

thought with hammering glee.

 

Serig stepped forward and slapped an armored palm

on the bulkhead beside the combat lock. The assault

party filled the antechamber. Decking shuddered

beneath their feet. From his helmet's exterior view,

Belazir could see the accordion-folds of the boarding

tube extending their armored length. Grapnels and

 

cutting-beams protruded from the forward edge, like the

teeth of a hungry monster. A feint clung went through the

ship as the tube struck. Then a savage roar of white noise

as the weapons punched an oval hole through hull, con-

duits and inner surface, into the enemy vessel,

fonx-sealing it with agudden crude weld.

 

Air whistled past them from the higher pressure of

the Bride into the station.

 

"Go!" shouted Serig. The first team leapt forward,

pushing a floating, armored powergun platform

before them. "Go, go, go!"

 

Serig followed them. Belazir bit down on his tongue,

suppressing the impulse to take immediate command.

Instead, he froze the joints of his armor and com-

manded the faceplate to show Serig's inputs, seeing

what he would see.

 

"Oh, smooth, very smooth," Simeon said in some

dismay. Channa made an enquiring sound into the

denched silence of the control room.

 

"To begin with, they're wearing heavy field armor,"

he replied, calling up interior shots.

 

The Kolnari were in powered hardsuits. At once more

massive and sleeker than the Central Worlds naval

equivalent, the suits were a soft matt black, and moved

with the jerky quickness of servo-powered systems. In a

dosed environment they looked more elephantine than

they had in Amos' shots from Bethel, more unstoppable.

The deck thundered under their weight, though the

pirates moved with fluid precision and the snapping

quickness of long practice. Teams of three or more

secured corridor junctions; techs moved behind them,

tying down control of one facility after another.

 

"And look at the way they're moving," Simeon went

on dolefully. "Look." He brought up a schematic of the

station. "Power, atmosphere, communications.

They're coming here, too. They've done this before."

 

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AnneMcCaffrry &? SM. Stirling

 

And those plasma guns they're carrying like rifles are crew-

served weapons tn the Navy, he added to himself

 

"Yes," Channa said, "that's how it looks to me.

They've done this before. Only where?"Xnd did that sta-

tion die? Do I remember ever hearing of a died station? She

watched in a morbid fascination as the units moved

inward, following the direction of the conduits. "Of

course, they're heading here now.*1

 

"No resistance," Serig reported.

 

Either they are wise cowards^r simply wise, Belazir

thought "Secure the control center! Pol?"

 

A miniature of the scarred face of the Shark's com-

mander came up on one helmet screen.

 

"My people are meeting no resistance," she said. "All

targets occupied on schedule. We have them in a

nutcracker fist."

 

"Good, dan-kin Captain," he said. He trusted Pol more

than most. She had no ambition to climb beyond her

present position. Any equal of his own rank and age was a

dangerous rival Ñ rival by definition, and dangerous if

they had survived to climb so high. "Now we will crush

their stones. Serig! Watch and wait when you've secured

their command center. ITljoinyou there."

 

"I hear and obey, lord," Serig said, slamming

through another door with his assault team.

 

Serig*s pickups showed a roomful of suited figures.

Plain vacuum suits, some small enough to hold

children, and the chamber looked to be an emergency

shelter, reinforced and near the core of the station. The

people moved away from the armored violence of the

Kolnari like grass rippling under wind. To Serig, their

cringing was a profoundly satisfying sight

 

"Faugh!" he said in sharp disgust "There are non-

humans here! Shall I open fire, lord?"

 

"No, Serig," Belazir said patiently. Of course, non-

human sentients were worse than scumvermin.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

299

 

They bore none of the Divine Seed that made Kol-

nar. "We're going to destroy this place and

everything in it, Serig. Or had you forgotten? In the

meantime, we need it functional."

 

"I abase myself before you, Great Lord," Serig said

formally Ñ another one-^ord expression in then-

tongue. "Proceeding with plan."

 

"Ooof," Channa said.

 

They were all lying with their faces in the fortunately

soft decking with their hands tied behind their backs.

The Kolnari had not moved or spoken since they

ordered the others down on the floor, except when one

of the stationers so much as twitched Ñ in which case

they prodded them with the muzzle of a plasma rifle,

hard, as one had just done to Channa. None of them

spoke Standard, she thought, except perhaps the

leader with the gold slashes on his arm. He had the

same thick accent as the amplified voice which had

hailed the station.

 

The iron tramp of powered-armor boots sounded in

the corridor outside. Another squad of Kolnari entered.

AU she could see was feet and a glimpse of something

heavy carried in by the last two. A voice spoke in the

invader's incongruously musical, lilting tongue, and the

feet with the load put something over the main com-

munications console. There was a chung and then a

minute ofhigh-pitched buzzing, followed by silence.

 

More clanks and clicking sounds. They're getting out of

their armor, she thought, watching a pair of bare feet

step to the deck.

 

"You may kneel," a voice said in Standard, much less

accented than the first Either an interpreter, or the big

boss; from the authority in the tones, the latter. "Let

those who once led here, identify themselves."

 

"Obeyl" screamed the other voice, the first one, and a

foot sank into her side.

 

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Arme McCaffhy &? 5M. Staling

 

THECriY WHO FOUGHT

 

901

 

Channa grunted and came to her knees, sinking

back on her heels. Then she raised her eyes and

gasped.

 

The pirate chieftain was the most beautiful human

being she had ever seen. 190 centimeters, but so perfect-

ly proportioned that he looked shorter. His skin was black

Ñ not the dark-brown usually miscalled as such, but an

actual gunmetal black; tightly stretched over long, swell-

ing muscles, and he stood and moved as lightly as a

racehorse. Much of this was visible, because what the

pirates wore under their armor turned out to be a pair of

tight briefs the same color as their skins, and an equip-

ment belt. The chieftain's race had the same inhuman

exotic perfection as his body: high cheekbones, slightly

aquiline nose, full lips, slanted yellow eyes, and the long

mane of white-blond hair was caught at the back with a

clip of silver and iridescent feathers.

 

Channa blinked, shook her head, and forced her-

self to look at the others. Apart from a pair still in

power armor, the rest looked eerily similar. Two of

those were women, with the same features and long

lean bodies. Even their breasts looked as if they were

carved out of ebony . . . and the expressions dif-

fered, of course. The pirate beside the chief was

paring his nails with a small sharp knife. He looked

at her and smiled. Channa glanced down again.

 

Ok, great, Simeon thought, noting the reaction from

the others as well. We've been boarded by the Ultimately

Intimidating Elves from, Hell. Owl That hurt. Something

tugged at him, catling.

 

Behind Channa, one of the armored troopers

touched his belt. The unoccupied suits turned and

marched like a line of lockstep golems to stand them-

selves along the walls.

 

Ow! Pain-signals flooded in from the computer

extensions of Simeon's mind. Emergency overrides.

He turned his attention inwards.

 

***

 

Channa subvocalized. There was no reply.

 

"Simeon!"

 

"I am the Lord Captain Belazir t'Marid Kolaren,"

the pirate chiefsaid soMy. "Master here now, by right of

conquest. I hold your lives in my fist, to spare or crush

as I will. Who led here before we came?"

 

I

 

H CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

¥ 1*

 

helpbosshelpbossowowow OW!

 

Simeon had never told anyone about the AI system.

Well, nobody but Tell Ration. He was interfaced with

the computers directly, of course; he could "remem-

ber" anything in the banks and use their capacities the

way he could those of his own human brain. The AI

program was something else again. It was as sophisti-

cated as anything this side of Central. He and Tell had

spent many a happy hour tweaking it further. Simeon

needed the best. There were limits to how many tasks

even a shellperson could do simultaneously, and many

were far too routine for continual supervision. An ordi-

nary human had the hindbrain for running heart,

lungs, and other physical basics, a consciousness for

thought, and a subconscious for monitoring and men-

tal housecleaning. Simeon had the AI.

 

help! boss!

 

Of course, it was impossible to actually visualize what

was going on in the AI system, any more than you

could visualize every neuron firing in your brain.

Simeon had chosen to make it something of a

playground, with something he had always wanted.

 

"Here, boy!" Simeon called.

 

He was standingÑhe had a softshell body in the vir-

tual world of the AI Ñ on a grassy plain, cut up into

pathways by tall hedges with gaps. The sensations were

full-tactile; only smell and taste were missing. This part

of the landscape was memory-scan and basic access-

control programming, all analogued to the physical.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

303

 

Both sense and response, automatically translated into

algorithms by a subprogram.

 

"Here boy!" He whistled sharply. "I'm here, boy!"

 

A dog bounded into view around a corner. It was the

dog of his dreams, big and shaggy-red, with floppy ears

;ind a cold wet nose* It was also the SSS-900-C's

primary artificial intelligence program.

 

Now it was surrounded by a swarm of wasps, huge

malevolent things with wingspans a meter across.

Their beaks were hollow, and out of them wormed

long pink tongues, lashing and rasping with serrated

teeth set along their sides. A dozen bleeding wounds

marked the dog's sides. One of the wasps clung to its

head, with the tongue pulsing out and into the animal's

ear.

 

boss! help!

 

The dog's barking voice was weakening. Simeon

stepped forward, and the ground shook with his anger.

Beneath it was fear. The pirates had clamped some-

thing to the communications console and now he knew

what it was. A specialized battle computer, stocked with

worm and subversion programs. If it took over his

hardware, he was doomed.

 

He turned the Jets cap backward on his head and

gestured. A glowing green enchanted bat appeared in

one hand, a hand that was suddenly gauntleted with

steel, part of the armor that covered him. With the

other steel glove he grasped the wasp on the dog's

head and crushed it, pulling. The long tongue flailed

as he pulled it out of the brain, jerking and cutting

bone with a tooth-grating sound.

 

On my own, then, Channa thought. "I am Station

Chief Channa Hap," she said. "This is my colleague,

Simeon-Amos."

 

The Kolnari commander remained motionless, like

a statue in oiled ebony. His companion reached down

 

304

 

Anne McCaffrey fe? 5M. Stirling

 

and jerked her to her feet by the front of her coverall.

Fingers like steel rods slammed into shoulder, ribcage,

hip. Pain flowered through her in a wave that snapped

her teeth shut with a grinding clack and left her limply

boneless when he released her to sarawl facedown on

the decking.

 

For minutes she was too limp,to do more than

sprawl. Amos had surged halfway to his feet The Kol-

nari who had struck Channa turned and gave him a

casual buffet across the side of the head: the sound was

like a wet board hitting conqyete. Amos flew backwards

two meters and ploughed into the deck at an awkward

angle. One of the others hooked him back to Channa's

side with a foot. He lay with glazed eyes, breathing in a

harsh rasp that sent bubbles of blood oozing from nose

and mouth. She forced down an overwhelming

impulse to rush to him, but their lives depended on her

wits.

 

"Scumvermin address the Divine Seed of Kolnar as

'Great Lord,' " the second-in-command said. He put a

foot on Channa's neck and ground her face into the

coarse fabric that covered the floor. "When the Lord

Captain Belazir addresses them, they respond with

'Master and God.'"

 

Eat shit and die, Master and God, Channa thought.

 

"Master and God," she managed to choke out, the

words muffled by the synthetic fabric.

 

Belazir nodded benignly, a slight smile on his carven

lips. "Let her rise to her knees once more. Ignorance

pardons nothing but explains much. Do you under-

stand?" he said to Channa.

 

"I understand perfectly, Master and God," she said

to the Kolnari leader. "You're the Good Pirate and he's

the Bad Pirate, eh?"

 

Belazir frowned a moment, then threw back his

head and laughed in delight as he caught the

reference.

 

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

 

305

 

"No no," he said, restraining his companion with a

slight gesture. The feral aggression in the other man's

face was unchecked, but he sank back obediently. "You

do not understand my good Serig's role at all." He

turned to the other prone figures. "Up on your knees,

scum vermin. Announce yfcur functions."

 

The lights flickered? Belazir looked up sharply. One

of the Kolnari spoke from beside the mechanism

damped to the communications terminal.

 

Channa felt her stomach damp with a fear older and

more visceral than the pirates. Something was interfer-

ing with basic station functions.

 

The dog lay panting, healing visibly but more slowly

than it should. The wasps lay crushed or buzzing

malevolently at a distance. Simeon's great bronze

shield prevented their approach. On its surface were

concentric rings of figures. Great heros: Armstrong, da

Luis, Helva. At last the dog crawled over and licked

Simeon's ankles, whimpering.

 

good better make'emgoaway(!) boss

 

Simeon checked the dog, who had sustained no per-

manent damage, although there was some memory loss.

 

"Get up," he said. "Run."

 

runl

 

"Change it as you go," Simeon said. "Game.** He

added specifications.

 

game!

 

The hedges melted and shifted as the dog ran, long

ears flopping in the mild afternoon sun. A new sound

came from around a long corridor in the memory-

maze. A long raw raaaaaaaaaaaaaaa sound, likeÑwhat

was that ancient holo? Like a chain saw! Then the beast

that made the noise surged around the corner.

 

Wow, Simeon thought. Wormprogram, indeed.

 

The end of the creature stretched off into the dis-

tance, a grayish-pink tentacle covered in rough-edged

 

306

 

Aime McCaffrey fe? SM. Stirling

 

scales. It was two meters thick, an endless segmented

arm of tough fibrous muscle, dripping acid mucous.

Where it passed, the bare ground smoked. Each drop

of slime turned the dust into a pulsing globule the size

of a fist, like a wet cyst. When jjiese popped, a long-

tongued wasp crawled out, flexed its wings, and took to

the air to join the buzzing cloud around the worm. The

head of the thing reared up suddenly, sprang open like

a fleshy blossom. Twenty looping pseudopods whirled

around it, each one tipped with a lidless eye. At their

meeting was a series of qpcular mouths, one within the

other, each ringed with pyramid-shaped teeth of urine-

colored diamond. The teeth spun and clenched and

gritted over each others' adamantine surfaces in a con-

tinuous blurred roar of hostile sound.

 

"By their programs shall ye know them," Simeon

intoned, suddenly wishing that he had not made the

construct he inhabited in this virtual reality quite so

vividly lifelike. He could definitely do without the dry

mouth, pounding heart, and sinking stomach right

now, for example. He could change the setting, but

that would deprive him of one more slender

advantage; his familiarity with it. So long as the matrix

remained, the intruder had to fight on his terms.

 

"These people are not going to garner many

SUM's," he said resolutely, and stepped forward, rais-

ing his shield. Central awarded Social Utility Marks to a

number of unlikely people, but this would really be

stretching the bounds of possible recipients.

 

"Come on, you bastard!" he shouted aggressively.

"Nobody hurts my dog!"

 

The worm program struck. Simeon groaned,

stamped his feet into the ground, and braced his

shoulder against the shield. Data/fangs gnawed at it,

recoiling with a sound like frying bacon amid choking

clouds of green vapor. His bat flailed, knocking aside

eye-tentacles and tongue-wasps. For a long subjective

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

307

 

time there was only batter and strike, leap and wiggle

and dodge. The oozing serrated mouth loomed in con-

stant menace. It wants to swallow my pattern whole and

assimilate it in one gulp.1 Tongue-worms flicked alarm-

ingly around his head. They would subvert the Master

Control Program with Ikeir probes. He continued to flail

the wasps out of the air, stamped them underfoot,

swung the bat, and an eye exploded in a shower of

black syrup like a giant overripe fig. Finally, the worm

recoiled for a moment, and Simeon whirled aside and

fled, dodging and jinking through the maze.

 

Got to keep it off-balance, confused, he thought, listening

to its triumphant screeching hard on his heels. Every

muscle in his "body" already felt bruised. But it was more

satisfying that way, too. Knowing you'd disorganized a

section of code wasn't nearly as much fun as seeing blood

Ñor ichor, in this caseÑfly and feeling flesh pulp under

a blow. The howl sounded again, closer.

 

"Talk about your slash-and-burn data collection," he

gasped in time with the pounding of his stride. What

sort of maniacs would let something like this loose

inside an information system? It had to be destroying

as much as it gathered.

 

Got to make it think it's won, eventually. Isolate it in the

outer subsystems of the computers, keeping the

ultimate control-keys behind barriers the worm

thought were the edge of the entire system. Otherwise,

it would infest the whole system, like maggots in rotting

meat. Including his own mind, unless he committed

suicide by severing all connections between his organic

brain and the data system.

 

That was an unfortunate image. He flashed back to

the refugee ship and the dead Bethelites, their bodies

moving with burrowing life.

 

/ will pull the plug first, he thought grimly. Theoreti-

cally, it was impossible to self-destruct the station. In

practice, he probably could. Win or die.

 

308

 

Anne McCaffrey 6f SM. Stating

 

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar the worm screeched.

 

"As Channa would say, eat shit and die." Simeon

panted the words out as he turned a corner and took a

stance again. Thorns and leaves Hew into the air as the

data-worm tried to smash directly through to him.

Then there was a huge splat sound and a watting cry of

pain as it ploughed into the stone core of the hedge.

That persuaded it to come around the corner. It

seemed larger; frothy pink blood streamed around the

working, palping mouths. Some of the teeth had shat-

tered on stone, but they^generated as he watched.

The worm's approach made the ground shake. Behind

him, he could hear the wuffle and growl of the AI, set-

ting new barriers and deceptions.

 

"Step right up, lay right down!" Simeon bellowed.

Don't worry about the others. This is going to take attyour

attention for a while.

 

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

 

This time the gravity bounced them about as the

lights flickered. Belazir turned to the technicians with a

well-controlled snarl of impatience.

 

"What now?"

 

"Great Lord, there is unexpected resistance. We

thought the worm was successfully penetrating the

Master Control programs, but they wiggled free. We

are making progress, but the AI is exceptionally agile

Ñ the parallelÑ"

 

Belazir cut them off with a gesture. "I am interested

in results, not jargon-laden excuses. Grasp the core in

your fist, and quickly."

 

He turned back to his prisoners. What naked faces they

have, he thought. In a new conquest, it was often so.

Those who survived long learned better, but it could be

entertaining.

 

Reports of the station's assets and supplies were

flooding in.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

309

 

getter than I expected, he thought exultantly. Far

fatter. Unimaginably rich! This facility could build dread-

noughts, given a little time and the plans which were

available in the Clan's computers.

 

The High Clan's greatest weakness was the lack of

;arge purpose-buttt \rarships. They could turn out

frigates, more or less, but for larger craft they could only

modify captures. Nocobbled-togethermerchanter could

rival the performance of real battlecraft. A warship was

more than a ship with weapons and defense-systems: it

was a single organism, almost living in itself. Must we aban-

don the shipyard"} The frustration was as agonizing as the

satisfaction of taking the station was euphoric, with its

destruction as a second orgasmic "hit." On the other

hand, possession of such equipment would cut genera-

tions from the great plan, the spreading of the Divine

Seed of Kolnar and the power of the Clan.

 

Even worse was the humiliation the Clan had suffered

for too long. The human galaxy teemed with such prizes,

yet the Clan fleet must skulk about the outworlds, gnaw-

ing discarded scraps: border worlds, miserable

settlements of poverty-stricken exile, like Bethel. Skulk

like jackals, even as they had been driven from their lands

and possessions on their ancient homeworld. Gnawing

poor bones, while feasts like this lay spread before them.

Intolerable! Itwasnottobeborne!

 

His pleasure dissolved. "You have maintained physical

separation?" he asked, his irritation at this check palpable.

 

The technician ducked his head. "Of course, Great

Lord. No data enters our machines from this system

save by hedron. All such hedrons are first analyzed to

the last byte of information. Our duplicate backups are

kept powered down and physically severed while any

captured data is running."

 

Belazir nodded. "Continue," he said, satisfied that

elementary precautions were being taken. You witt suffer,

you will suffer, ahhhh, how you will suffer, he thought,

 

310

 

Amu McCaffny & SM. Stating

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

311

 

barring mental teeth at the universe that stood between

the Clan and its apotheosis. All of them would writhe in

the fist, one day. "You have a preliminary report?"

 

"Affirmative, Great Lord," the technician said,

 

Why can technicians never use ajDmple word where their

accursed slang can be stretched toftf? Belazir wondered as

he heard the technician out 5;

 

"We captured the message logs in the first penetra-

tion, before the AI reacted. No nonroutine messages to

Central, except the arrival and spontaneous destruc-

tion of a large, mysterioutfship. Little evidence was left.

Central said they would search their files."

 

With a white-toothed grin, Belazir condescended to

give a nod in reply. "Excellent! Order: launch the mes-

sage torpedo. Summon the transports, all that can be

spared; also personnel for the disassembly."

 

He looked around at his fighters, smiling. "Well done.

We will settle in, drinking the prey dry and eating it to the

bone at our leisure. Staff, draw up a preliminary plan to

strip as much as possible as quickly as possible and load

efficiently when the transport arrives."

 

Smaller, high-value loot would go to the victorious

flotilla, of course. He would have to arrange priorities:

priorities that would give the Bride the first and best pick,

and t'Vsrsk'sAge of Darkness the last and worst, of course.

 

Part of his attention had been on Serig's interroga-

tion of the prisoners. He brought his head up, smiling

at the executive officer's wit

 

"He says," he translated for the benefit of the scum-

vermin Serig had been taunting, "that he will explore

your internal environment, Environment Systems

Officer Coburn."

 

No\ Channa thought hard at her. Don't resist, Patsy!

 

The older woman's broad fair fece was flushed, red

spots on her cheeks showing her rage. The pirate reached

a hand down her shirt and squeezed a breast casually.

 

patsy spat in his face.

 

Channa started to rise. Belazir jabbed a precisely cal-

culated toe into her bruised stomach. She collapsed to

the deck again. The pirate grabbed her ear in strong,

almost prehensile toes and forced her head around.

 

"Watch, scumverpiin," he said pleasantly. "And learn

not to defy the High Clan."

 

Behind her there was a flurry as Amos tried to rise

again. A Kolnari pounded her heel into the small of his

back over the kidneys and he collapsed with a stifled

shriek, thrashing. Nobody else moved.

 

Simeon, she thought desperately. Simeon!

 

Serig touched his face where the spittle ran and

spoke in his own language. The other Kolnari laughed

or grinned, watching with bright-eyed interest. Patsy

took advantage of his inattention, lashing out in a kick

at his groin. A fist snapped down and met the rising

foot with a sound like a mallet hitting rock. Patsy gave a

sharp gasp of pain. With bound hands, she was thrown

off-balance and staggered back against the coffee table.

The Kolnari laughed as she almost fell, stripping away

his harness and tossing it aside. The briefs came away

with it, memory-plastic rolling up into the belt. The

stationer's clothes followed, torn away as if they were

paper while one hand held her immobilized, clamped

to her jaw. He stepped back and stood like a licentious

Greek statue, gestured.

 

"Down," he said in Standard. "Spread."

 

Yes, Belazir thought, looking down at Channa. In the

end, this one is mine. But not at once. With subtlety.

 

As a child, Belazir t'Marid had been the despair of his

mothers and nurses. For all their whippings and shock-

rod treatments, for all the day-cycles spent locked in

the hotbox, they could never break him of the nasty

habit of toying with his "food."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

313

 

CHAPTER EK&JTEEN

 

Simeon dropped to the ground, panting. Atop the

distant mountain, another wing of the castle

crumbled and fell int^ the gulfs below with an

earthquake rumble of rock. The worm screamed tri-

umph and wound itself further around the central

tower as flames billowed into the darkening sky. A

tiny figure stood on the battlements above the

monster, waving a bat that glowed iridescent green.

Queasy, Simeon switched viewpoints, just in time to

see the open maw engulf his pseudo-construct

duplicate. The gnashing teeth ripped it into shreds.

The illusion faded and his last sight from it was a

rushing universe of light and onoffonoffonoffonoff-

onoff as the code was disassembled and "digested"

by the intruder.

 

Phew, he thought, shakily turning his Jets cap right-

side around again. That ought to hold km. For a while, at

least. The worm would be here, always probing and

testing, as long as the Kolnari battle-computer stayed

clamped to the SSS-900-C's system. Even if he

destroyed the program and purged his system, that

would merely ring every alarm the enemy had. They'd

only launch another worm immediately, with a dif-

ferent configuration. Despite its self-modifying

abilities, he knew this one now!

 

Gently, stepping backward, brushing his footprints

out of the sand, he faded from the blasted landscape of

cinders, where pustules in the soil spewed line after

line of questing wasps.

 

"The Knight came home from the quest;

Muddied and sore he came.

Battered of shield and crest,

Bannerless, bruised and lameÑ"

 

Charma was weeping. "Jliat was his first thought, as his

"other" awareness flared back. Everything was a little

murky, but he could see dearly enough down into the

lounge. She was sitting on the sofa next to Amos, head

cradled against his shoulder, sobbing with slow misery.

Both of them looked battered, as if they'd been thrown

from a moving vehicle. Amos winced every time he moved.

 

"Channa!" Simeon said when a few microseconds' of

a scan told him the room was safe. A little further

adjustment put an innocuous scene on the security sys-

tem the Kolnari and their computers were monitoring.

"Channa, are you all right?"

 

"Where were you!" Channa shouted, springing erect.

"Where were you, Simeon?"

 

"I wasÑ"

 

Simeon noticed what was playing over the general

channel, again and again, locked in from the command

circuits. Nearing the end of one loop, Channa was

kneeling by Patsy's side, trying to staunch the hemor-

rhage with the scraps of her clothing.

 

"Please, Master and God, may I summon the

doctor?"

 

"Of course," the pirate chieftain said. "We are a

reasonable people." Abroad smile. "As you see, you

were wrong. / am the 'bad pirate.' Serig is the worse

pirate."

 

Simeon blinked back to the present. He felt his auto-

matic feeds cut in, damping down hormonal flows and

adrenal glands, filtering his blood. Even so, he came as

dose to feeling faint as he ever had.

 

"I ... oh, God, God" he whispered. "Shit." There

were no words adequate in any lexicon.

 

S14

 

Amu McCaffny 0? 5M. Stir&ng

 

"Where were you, Simeon?"

 

"Fighting," he said. "Channa, they put a worm pro-

gram into die station system. I had to fight it, it wasÑis

Ñ a monster. If I hadn't, it would have burrowed right

into my brain and eaten me. I'd ako be under their con-

trol and telling them everything they wanted to know. I

couldn't even self-destruct!"

 

i *

 

" I see," Channa said, "Not that there was anything you

could have done for us. Excuse me." She walked quickly

into her quarters: he could hear water splashing.

 

Amos stood, left hangVclenched around right fist.

"Though they be thieves from their birth, for this, they

shall pay," he said softly, almost to himself. "For Patsy,

for Keriss, for my sister and my father's house and for

all they have done, by the living soul of God, they shall

pay in full, every jot and tittle."

 

Channa came back, her face set harder than Simeon

had ever seen it. She waved Amos back and turned to

the pillar.

 

"What damage did you sustain?" she asked in a

professional tone.

 

"Nothing crucial Ñ yet," Simeon said. "I've got to

keep a fair share of my attention and the system's

capacity involved in just watching and waiting. That

worm program mutates like a retrovirus: the sort that

never gives up. I could dean it out Ñ if I dared. Apart

from that, I've lost about a third of the memory and

computational capacity. That's what could be termed

'occupied territory* at the moment. With luck, their

computer will keep thinking that's all there is. It's

powerful but specialized. They haven't hooked up

their ship computers to the station, yet Probably afraid

of us hacking in to them.

 

"But," he went on, "I've got to be really careful Any

action I take in what they think is safe territory has to be

elaborately screened. I can jimmy the records. How-

ever, even I can't make the impossible convincing."

 

THE CITY vmo FOUGHT

 

S15

 

She narrowed her eyes. "Could you take back those

functions in a hurry?"

 

"Somewhere from seconds to minutes. They'd know

pretty quick, and that battle-computer they've got

jacked in could ... hmm. Come to think of it, I could

probably take that over* too. But they'd know."

 

"No problem.. .later. Can we conference?"

 

"Yeah, I've got all of their people under continuous

surveillance."

 

"We'd better get moving as soon as we can," she said.

 

Simeon made an affirmative sound. "Our people are

going to be pretty shook up," he said. I sure am. "We've

got to get things in hand, before they start lashing out

It'll take some time though, for a cycle when they're all

available."

 

"Good. Let's get, hmmm, Chaundra, the section

leaders, and Ñ" Amos began.

 

"Everyone's gone," Seld Chaundra said in a low and

careful voice. "You sure we oughta do this, Joat?

Joseph saidÑ**

 

"Joe can wait a minute, 'n so can you, carrot-face,"

she whispered. "Now keep that thing running, hey?"

 

He nodded and bent again over the two modules

and the jack clipped to the main conduit above them.

This way was very narrowÑan adult would have to be

a dwarf to get through Ñ but it came in conveniendy

over the sickbay entrance.

 

"Look," he went on, without glancing up. He was

still breathing hard from the effort of crawling up the

axial ventway. "Look, maybe Ms. Coburn doesn't need

someone else talking to her right now? It's been less

than a day, and Ñ"

 

"Yeah, I saw the broadcast, too," she said. She had.

Seld had feinted. His meets weren't doing him as much

good as they should. "You stay here."

 

She crawled forward, pushing the local sensor-override

 

316

 

Amu McCaffrey &? SM. Stirling

 

unit ahead of her. To the naked eye, the cover of the duct

was a panel just like all the others. The only real difference

was that it was selectively permeable and much thinner. It

recessed obediently and Joat looked down into a darkened

room. One float bed, the usual Jurnhure, and a figure

under the sheet She curled herself into a bafl and somer-

saulted slowly through the opening, holding on with her

fingertips and then dropping the final meter to the floor.

 

"You awake?" she said, moving to the bedside. "It's

Joat"

 

Coburn's eyes were Èpen. She lay motionless, but

they tracked through the darkness. Joat shone a small

light under her own chin. She had procured for herself

a very expensive coverall, made of adjustable light-

fibers. Simeon had gotten it for her because it was

fashionable, but with a little creativity you could rig it to

mimic the ambient background color, which was right

now a mottled charcoal gray. Her face floated above it

in the lightstick's feeble low-setting glow.

 

"Go 'way, Joat," the woman said in a dull voice. Her

face looked old, under the sealant bandages. "I don't

need any more sympathy. Leave me alone."

 

"Great, 'cause sympathy's not what I'm gonna give

you," Joat said. She brought her face closer to Patsy's,

and her own eyes held the same flat deadness. "Let me

tell you something about me." She explained, in a flat,

matter-of-fact tone all about her father, her uncle, the

captain.

 

"So I know, Ms. Coburn," she went on. "Forget what

anyone else's said. They don't know jack shit But Joat, she

knows exactty how you feel. And like I said, you don't need

sympathy right now. I know what you do need."

 

Slowly, Patsy raised herself on her elbow. "An* what

would that be?"

 

Silently, Joat reached around and opened her haver-

sack. Her gloved hand came out with Patsy Sue

Coburn's gunbelt and arc pistol.

 

THE dry WHO FOUGHT

 

317

 

"Payback," Joat whispered steadily. "And here's how

it's gonna beÑ"

 

The medical-storage room had its own surveillance

subloop. That made i^a good place for the clandestine

.-neeting. It was alsq chuly, bare, and crowded. The walls

were gray metal bins outlined with fluorescent paint

 

Appropriate, given the state of our morale, Channa

thought

 

"I have two hundred fifty-seven people down with

the virus," Chaundra said. "The symptoms are spec-

tacular but not life-threatening, as long as they stay

hooked to the machinery. I have also treated sixty-four

patients for traumas and wounds of various sorts. No

fatalities, so far. One or two are in critical condition, but

they should recover. This total includes several of my

medical aids who have been assaulted by Kolnari com-

ing to check up on our 'sick.' They seem to find the

sight disgusting and ... exciting at one and the same

time. Several of Outpatients have been assaulted."

 

So much for scaring them off with the virus, Channa

thought "Patsy?" she asked aloud. She's my friend. Patsy

hadn't wanted to talk to her or anyone else, which was

understandable. Bid I want to know about her.

 

"She ... there were no broken bones, apart from

the foot. I internally splinted that Ñ" gluing the

bones together in a synthetic sheath stronger than

the original material, to give them a matrix to heal

"Ñ replaced the lost blood, and plas-sutured all the

softtissue injuries. Ms. Coburn is mobile although in

some .. . physical. .. discomfort. With the usual

growth stimulators, full recovery should take no

more than a week."

 

He licked his lips nervously." I cannot answer for her

mental state. I fear catatoma. I have administered the

usual psychotropics, but the mind is more than the

brain and its chemistry."

 

318

 

ArmeMcCaffrty &? SM. Starting

 

Channa nodded jerkily. "Anything else?"

 

"Yes. I now have ... abundant tissue samples from

the Kolnari. There are things we should discuss

privately."

 

Amos looked at the faces in thejscreen. "Continue as

planned," he said. "The enemy are pushing you to

work. Be as stupid as you dare. Make mistakes as often

as you dare. Above alt, keep as much material half-

disassembled as you can."

 

"When are we going to fight them?" somebody burst

out. "You and Simeon, talked a good fight, about

Cochise and the Viet Gong Ñ" Gong, Simeon corrected

silendy "Ñ so far all we're doing is rolling over!"

 

"There is the virus," Simeon said. "That's working,

they're catching it. I've begun psychological opera-

tions. Most important, I've deciphered their

language." That brought a rusde. "It's not much like

the ones in the survey files Ñ both are pidgin Sinhala-

Tamil, but... anyway, I've got it. They've ordered sixty

units here."

 

"Oh, great!" the man barked. "More of them!"

 

"Shut up," Channa remarked. "That means they're

not just going to strip the station of everything they can

carry in their warships and then blow it up. You can't

kill a cow and milk it. It'll be at least a week before the

transports arrive. There ought to be about sixty of

them. You know how long it takes us to load sixty

freighters with homogenous ore when we're trying to

work fast. Imagine what it will take to remove and load

fixed equipment, with everyone dragging their feet.

And the more of them that are here, the more will be

caught when the Fleet arrives."

 

"And," Amos said, with a feral smile, "that means we

can be more direct in the interim. Do not worry, my

friends. They, too, will suffer, know fear and pain."

 

That brought a chorus of satisfaction.

 

We think revenge is primitive, Simeon thought, until we

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

319

 

need it to satisfy indignity and humiliation. He was feeling

considerable desire in that direction himself

 

Amos lifted a hand. "Wait We want to lure as many of

them into the station as possibleÑas Insurance, and so we

can wear them down. JBut we cannot risk key people who

know a good dea^l about our plans and our station

prisoners being dragged in for interrogation because they

thought they could be clever. No action is to be taken save

on my express orders. The personnel to effect those

orders will be fitted with a suicide tooth and have psych

profiles which assure its use. Wait until you receive orders.

We have a fine general Ñ" he nodded in Simeon's direc-

tion"Ñand wemust follow his words."

 

That brought silence.

 

"We'll try levering them to cut back on the

atrocities," Channa said. "Say it's reducing working

efficiency Ñ that's true enough. Stay tight, endure!

We'll see them all fried yet! Out."

 

One by one the faces vanished from the screen,

except for Chaundra's.

 

"The bad news, Doctor," she said.

 

This meeting was a fleeting thing, time stolen as they

were all supposedly on their way somewhere else.

They could fool the sensors for a while, but nobody

could explain being in two positions at once, one of

them under the real-time eyes of the enemy. Only the

fact that there were fifteen-thousand odd of the

stationers and less than a tenth that number of Kolnari

made it possible at all. That and the invaders' imperfect

control of the surveillance computers.

 

Channa studied Chaundra's grim face. "What is it?"

she asked him.

 

He scrubbed his face with both hands and shrugged,

exhaustion in his voice. "It's not working."

 

"What is not working?" Amos asked impatiently.

 

"The virus," Chaundra said. "They are infected Ñ

somewhatÑbut it hardly bothers them at all."

 

320

 

Anne McCaffny & SM. Stating

 

"Shit!" Channa swore. She had hoped die illness would

make the Kolnari shun civilians of their own volition.

"Doesn'tit have any effect?"

 

"Mild headache, some nausea, onex>r two cases of diar-

rhea for a day or so. All in all, much l|ss than our people

have experienced even with the immunization. The

afflicted individuals act embarrassed^jiot frightened, and

their companions laugh at them." Chaundra shrugged in

despair. "I move that we discontinue this plan. Our people

are getting raped, beaten, humiliated and catching the flu

while the Kolnari just have^fun. I tested their tissue

samples Ñ the Kolnari immune system is barely human.

If some of the rape victims were not pregnant, I would

doubt that the Kolnari are human. No, I correct that Of

human origin. Their actions certainly are not," he added

bitterly.

 

"Pregnant?" Channa asked, bewildered.

 

"I terminated," he said, "ectopic pregnancies, in the

fallopian tubes. This despite slow-release implant

contraceptives." Those made the body's own immune

system treat sperm as foreign matter until

counteracted.

 

"Channa, the pirates seem to have metallic-salt and

other contaminant levels that should make every one

of them stone sterile. Instead, their sperm are a whole

order of magnitude more motile than the norm. The

rest of their systems are built the same way. Their

antibody response is... their bodies use the poisons to

kill bacterial or viral invaders. Their DNA is locked into

position with redundancy and self-repair mechanisms

like nothing I have ever seen, resistant both to radia-

tion and to viral contamination."

 

"I refuse to believe these animals are supermen,"

Amos said.

 

"Oh, they're not that," Chaundra said. "From their

DNA, I'd say they have shorter lifespans than ours. I

imagine the degeneration past early middle-age is ...

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

321

 

spectacular and swift, as the whole system abruptly

foils. Several other disadvantages; for example, they

could not live without dioxin and arsenic compounds

in their food. An equivalent of scurvy would strike

them."

 

He fell silent'   *

 

"There's something else you're hiding, Doctor,"

Channa said quietly. Amos sat more erect, glancing

narrowly from the woman to the screen, "Tell us!"

 

Bingo, Simeon thought, narrowing in on

Chaundra's pupil dilation and breathing.

 

"There is a possibility," Chaundra said, looking aside

from the pickup. "Another virus." A long pause. "The

one that killed Mary. It is of unparalleled virulence.

Possibly the worst natural... unnatural disease ever to

be discovered."

 

Amos' head jutted forward. "Why did you not men-

tion this before?" he asked harshly.

 

"Because it killed my wife!" Chaundra shouted sud-

denly; the more startling coming from so mild a man.

"Because it is killing my son!" More softly, more ration-

ally: "Because I swore that the filthy disease should

never kill another human being. I no longer classify

the Kolnari under that heading."

 

"Still," Channa said, "the virus is a good plan. The

enemy don't have much medical capability at all And

Chaundra has lucidly explained why they don't need

it For our purposes they are medically ignorant Little

expertise beyond treating wounds and broken bones,

really. I get the impression they just sort of.. .junk

anyone who's sicker than that"

 

Chaundra looked thoughtful, professional com-

petence taking over despite himself. "I do not have the

live virus, you understand. But I have the information

on a rninihedron. The protein is nothing, the replicator

can produce it immediately. But modifications... yes.

What sort of disease did you have in mind?"

 

322

 

Ame McCaffrey W SM. StrrKng

 

"Something scary," she said.

 

"Something fetal," Amos added.

 

"If possible," she agreed. "But at the least, spec-

tacularly incapacitating, disgusting, horrifying.

Something with mental deterioration? We want them

terrified, and what's more terrifying than madness?"

 

"Whoa now, I dunno," Simeon .said. "Do you really

want a stationload of crazy Kolnari? Crazier than they

already are, I mean."

 

They looked thoughtful and slightly sick.

 

"No, no, wait a moment," Chaundra said, and

paused. "As Channa suggested, we could target only

those who've had the virus. They catch it. It's just not

capable of getting much beyond the first few cells.

Antibody response is very quick. That's a manageable

part of the Kolnari force, enough to hurt and rattle

them without driving them into a killing frenzy. It

would be cumulative, spread among themselves. Close

contact is needed, and I could increase that Immunize

our people stealthily, under the guise of normal treat-

ment. It can be done. I'm sure of it."

 

"Get on it, then," Channa said. When the doctor's

image had faded: "That takes care of that!"

 

Simeon's image nodded. It was less mobile than

usual, with so much capacity tied up. "This is a war of

morale. Guerilla war always is. We have to demoralize

them, and much more important, maintain our own

morale."

 

Or our people will crack and someone will go to the Kolnan,

went unspoken among them.

 

"Speaking of which," Amos said, rising.

"Must you?" Channa said quietly.

"Yes, I must," he replied, walking over to her and

lifting a hand to his lips. The gesture seemed far more

natural than it had at first, less.staged.

 

"This isn't going to work for long," Channa said to

the air, after he had left.

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

323

 

"It doesn't have to," Simeon replied. "Only long

 

enough."

 

"Get ready, Seld," Joat breathed.

 

"I'm ready" he whispered back. He was pale and

5weating heavily. --"A

 

Her hand rested dh the diaphragm that separated the

vent from the corridor. Her other hand gripped the

spring-loaded device, adjusting it so the red dot on the

notescreen image beside her lay precisely over a spot in

the corridor. Below, Patsy waited at the junction of the

passageways, one hand behind the concealing wall. That

hand held the arc pistol, but if all went well they would

not need it.

 

If all did not go well, they were probably going to die

in the next twenty seconds or so. Die quickly if they

were lucky.

 

"One of them," Seld said. "Still only one." He was

peering into the miniscreen jacked into the security

cameras from their local lead. "Still coming."

 

Bare feet scuffed lightly below. The Kolnari came

swiftly, not running: they seemed to walk on the balls of

their feet in a light half-trot most of the time. He

checked slightly at the sight of Patsy.

 

"Who goes?" he called.

 

Stationers not on essential duties were supposed to

be in their cabins. Then he recognized her and smiled.

One taken by the na Marid was a prestigious victim and

here she was, walking alone. He started towards her,

speeding up as she dodged around the corner.

 

The warrior was stopping and turning even as Joat

keyed the diaphragm open. His speed was awesome,

but she had triggered the hand-cobbled device at the

same instant the panel came down. Behind her there

was a click that meant Seld had cut in the damper. For

the next few minutes, security records would show an

empty corridor. Safe, unless a human observer were

 

324

 

Anne McCaffny fef S M. Stirfotg

 

looking. Even checking the files would show recording

errors, normal enough considering the havoc the Kol-

nari had caused the station computers.

 

The darts struck the Kolnari as his finger was tighten-

ing on the trigger of his own* weapon. A hundred

thousand volts flowed through the thread-thin super-

conductor wires behind them. He convulsed.

 

K-tash. Hot air blossomed away from the plasma rifle

aroundarod ofsun-hot violence, literally sun-hot; it was

an ultra-miniaturized, laser-triggered deuterium fusion

pellet focused by magnetic fields. Normally the pirate's

muscle and reflex would have been enough to hold it

steady on his aiming point. Now the superheated gas

slewed his lifeless body around and the substance of the

walls sublimed away, the beam chopping through syn-

thetics and conduits and the empty chambers beyond.

There was a hiss and cherp-cherp-dierp of pressure alarms

as theouter hull was punctured.

 

Joat winced. That was -not part of the plan. "Quick,"

she said in soft urgency. Dropping down into the cor-

ridor and grasping the pirate's weapon, she heaved it up.

 

"Here," she gasped, wobbling under the burden of

the clumsy thing. Between them, Seld and Joat got it

up into the duct. Then she bent and grabbed one of the

Kolnari's arms. She heaved and her heels skidded. The

juddering, twitching body was heavy, far heavier than a

man dressed only in a belt and briefs ought to be. Patsy

darted back.

 

"It's not hm? she said.

 

"It'll do for starters," Joat said with a grunt.

"C'monr

 

Together they dragged the body to the airlock

around the corner and cycled it through.

 

"Meet you at N-7a x L," Joat panted, trotting back to

the open diaphragm. "Need that stuff on the list."

 

"I'll be there," Patsy said.

 

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

 

325

 

"H will work," Joseph said reassuringly. "At least

once," he amended. "Joat is an odd child, but any con-

traption she claims will function, will function."

 

Amos nodded dubiously. / have never found reason to

doubt you in matters of violence, he thought. That was

fomforting. On the otnbr hand, no man was infallible,

and even Joseph was an amateur at war.

 

They were in the lower-equatorial park, near the

central core of the station's upper globe. For a wonder,

there were no surveillance cameras here. By Central

World law, there had to be such places in any substantial

habitat Most of the inhabitants being law-abiding types,

SSS-900-C's was in the park. It was fairly large, several

hundred hectares, with part of the station water-reserves

deployed as lakes and ponds. Currently it was in night-

cycle, and the Kolnari seemed to find that fascinating.

Amos could understand that. He had found it

heartbreakingly like, and yet unlike, Bethel. The scents

were strange, greener, and fresher than the arid hills of

the Sierra Nueva estates, milder than the irrigated

lowlands. Strange birds Ñ or was it small animals? Ñ

chirred and rustled in the undergrowth. He was an out-

doors man, but these were not the fields he knew.

 

"They come," Joseph said. "To stay," he added.

 

He moved off into the shadows of the bushes, bent

low, moving with a skill he had learned in the alleys of

his childhood and the hunting grounds of his leader's

properties in later years.

 

God was not entirely unfair. The Kolnari hearing

was not quite as good as human norm; it need not be in

the thicker air of their homeworld. Amos crouched

with hunter's patience, waiting as if for sicatooth.

 

God of our fathers, be with me now, he prayed with utter sin-

 

"Hai, dog-turds, what brings you out this fair

night?" Joseph's voice rang clear. "Tired of banging

your mothers or looking for sheep?"

 

326

 

Anne McCaffrty fc? SM. Stating

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

327

 

Amos felt a lurch of fear. They were counting on the

enemy's inexperience with guerilla tactics, their

arrogance. That was perilously close to counting on

the Kolnari being stupid, and that was dangerous.

 

Pounding feet came closer: Jgseph's heavier tread,

and the lighter, fester sound of ffie folk the hell-planet

bred. Joseph flashed between the trees with his head

down, arms and legs pumping. The pursuers seemed

to float by contrast, loping effortlessly like men on a

low-gravity moon. Their eyes and trailing manes

glowed lambent in the sjmulated starlight, and their

movements had the aching gracefulness of swans

taking flight. They were beautiful, and horrible

beyond belief, and he feared them in a way that had

nothing to do with the long knives in their hands.

 

He stepped out. They stopped with a plunging

abruptness. Their heads turned to scan him with the

smooth accuracy of gun-turrets tracking under com-

puter control. Joat had counted on that in designing

her gadget A scanner detected the alignment of their

eyes.

 

The thing he carried strapped to his chest yawped.

Then it was red-hot, and he was scrabbling to rip it

loose and toss it away. The pirates stumbled as if they

had run into a wall of iron. They screamed as if that

iron were white hot and dropped their knives to tear at

their feces in a frenzy of pain.

 

Scream, dogs, Amos thought, gratified. Scream as Bethel

screamed, as Bstsy screamed, scumvermin/i&A.

 

Cries of pain were not going to attract attention on

the SSS-900-C: not while it was held in the Fist of High-

Clan Kolnar.

 

A dozen men and women edged out of the shadows.

Cutting bars and lengths of dull-gleaming synth tubing

were in their hands. Amos reached over his back and drew

a long curved sword from its sheath with the slender

sound of steel on steel: the motion so long practiced from

 

 

 

blade-dance training that it was as unconscious as breath-

jng. The heads of the Kolnari turned toward the sounds

he made; their ruined eyes were circles ofblood-red now,

and tears of blood dribbled down their cheeks. They

moaned in their agony, but they moved toward him, teeth

hared in a rictus of pain a&d savagery.

 

"Quickly, but carefully," Amos said to the others dos-

ing in on their victims.

 

Afterwards they must throw their clothes into dis-

posal and go through full decontamination cleansing.

 

Joseph was behind the blinded pirates, a half-dozen

stationers at his back. Two knives glinted in his hands.

 

"Now!" Amos said.

 

Ç CHAPTER N&ETEEN

 

"Shall I perform an autopsy, Great Lord?" the

eunuch medico asked in its shrill whine.

 

Belazir t'Marid lookejtt down at the bodies in their

separate bags. Separate bags, but who knew what went

where? One bag might be a few parts short or extra, for

all he could tell.

 

"Creature," he said to the eunuchs, cuffing one

aside, "when men have their skulls crushed by heavy

blows Ñ as these have Ñ and their eyes gouged outÑ

as these have Ñ and their throats cut to the neckbone

Ñ as these have Ñ and their bodies cut to pieces, as

these have, then generally speaking, as a rule, they die.

An autopsy seems somewhat superfluous."

 

The noble's voice was even and pleasant, as it usually

was, but the slave medico sank deeper and deeper into

a crouch of abasement with every word, as if they were

blows from the powered whip normally used on such.

At the last, all the eunuch could do was whimper.

 

"Cease," Belazir said. "Now, this other; in that, I

have interest"

 

The medico sealed the bags containing the body-

parts of the two dead Kolnari and hastened to the

intact casualty. Relatively intact. He stroked a hand

down the opaque material, and the stuff turned utterly

transparent.

 

"Whatever killed him, he was not pleased with it,"

Belazir remarked to Serig, looking at the dead man's

bulging, staring eyes. Shifting to the interrogative

tense: "Creature?"

 

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

 

329

 

"It is uncertain, Great Lord. Either the electrocution

or the explosive decompression would be fatal, of

course. Here, the dart struck. See, a burned patch,

high on the shoulder, towards the angle of the jaw. As

he was turning to confront that which killed him, it

struck from the reqr."

 

"Blindingly obvious," Belazir said facetiously. "Go.

Preserve the bodies."

 

"And what do you propose to do, t'Marid?" the third

Kolnari noble present said.

 

"Do, lord Captain t'Varak?" Belazir said, turning

with an expression of perfect courtesy.

 

TVarak's presence provided a welcome distraction. A

kin-enemy was always more entertaining than outsiders,

if more predictable. He waved a languid hand about

them, at the dew-cool grass, at the holos for overhead that

mimicked the blue cloud-scattered sky of Earth. The

temperature was far below what Kolnari preferred, but

they could endure anything down to and below freezing

without undue discomfort. None of them needed to

wear more than briefs and shipbelt for utility. For status,

the nobles wore long open-necked robes of watered silk,

jewelry of fretted silver, and homeworld fire opals. Their

hair was brushed to shining shoulder-length waterfalls,

pinned back with combs of sea-ivory and precious metal,

and the knife-sharp feathers of Kolnari birds.

 

Belazir stretched. His robe was severely plain, daz-

zling white with gold and indigo trim.

 

"I shall enjoy the beauty of this place. So fair, and so

tragic because soon it will perish as if it had never

been." He added a classical quotation on transience

and death in the three-tonal scale.

 

Anger glowed from the other man, lambent as hot

metal. He might have been Belazu-*s twin, except for a

hair-dip of gold rather than silver and the petulance of

his expression. Belazir t'Marid never showed an

enemy his frustrations.

 

sso

 

ArmeMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

 

"Three of my men are dead, t'Marid," he said.

 

"Dead!" agreed Belazir in a mild tone. "One slain from

ambush, another two destroyed hand-to-hantl, by scumuer-

mm. Of course, to be caught so carelessly, they became

litde better than scumvermin themselves. Far better for

the Clan that they were cut off before they could breed."

Or breed much; Kolnari became fertile early. "Culling by

the universe, not so? They will leave no sons of disgrace

to propagate lines of weakness amid the Divine Seed."

 

For a moment, he thought Aragiz would attack him

here, while Belazir was in^ctear command, with Serig at

his side and armored crewfolk from the Dreadful Bride

at his back. If he did, he was better culled out of the

Divine Seed. That was the point of the delicate insult, of

course. Back on Bethel, old Azlek t'Varak had taken off

his helmet a moment too soon and lost his head by such

precipitousness. That had been a scandal of some note,

shadowing the prestige and honor of all his sons Ñ

Aragiz t'Varak not least. The t'Varak were always hotheads,

Belazir thought, amused at his own pun. Azlek had

been all of fifty, though; time enough to be slow and

senile. Aragiz should know better.

 

He did, though barely. "You should bring the scum-

vermin here under better control," Aragiz said in a

bland tone which matched Belazir's. "Kill a few

hundred. A hundred for one."

 

"TVarak, t'Varak," Belazir murmured. He bent and

plucked a flower, sniffed deeply of it "There are fifteen

thousand or so scumvermin on this great fat-dripping

morsel that the Clan Ñ and Father Chalku, by the

latest message Ñ yearns to pop into its ever-hungry

mouth. And, if the scumvermin suspect that almost all

of them will die when we are done, some one of them

will sabotage this station and rob the Clan of that feast-

ing, for all that we can do. Despair makes even

scumvermin brave. Hope brings forth their cowardice,

each one hoping for himself."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

931

 

A songbird swooped by. Belazir's hand snapped out

like a trout rising to a fly and caught the tiny creature

within the cave of his hand. He brought it up under

Aragiz's nose as the soft feathers brushed his skin, in

rhythm with its heartbeat.

 

"I have them in my mt, cousin," he went on. "Shall I

open it Ñ" he suited words to action "Ñ and let them

go?" The bird flew away.

 

"Blood calls for blood," Aragiz said. "Avenge our

blood, or you are no Clan leader."

 

"Blood-call can wait a few days," Belazir said, his

voice flint-hard as the two men stared face-to-face.

"Until the transports arrive," he added negligently.

"Eight days to load and leave, and watch this station

vanish in a spark of fire as we go. Because Father

Chalku's message giving me mandate over all the High

Clan in this action has already come, has it not**

 

"It has," Aragiz said. "Be glad, O cousin, be very glad

of that!"

 

"Be assured I am," Belazir said ambiguously. "And

now, Lord Captain, load your ship with choice loot. Let

you and your fighters enjoy themselves as they will

among the scumvermin, so long as they do not reduce

the slave work-output." He dropped his voice to a

whisper. "Do not obstruct me, t'Varak. Not until you

can bring the Clan a prize like this."

 

"No. Not yet."

 

Belazir watched him go. "Serig," he said, "behold.

Never underestimate an enemy."

 

"Aragiz, lord?" Serig said incredulously.

 

Belazir threw back his head and laughed merrily.

"No, no. 1 should have specified; never underestimate

even a scumuermm enemy. As that dolt does. This

station's two leaders, they have between them a three

hundred percent increment upon poor Aragiz's sum

total of wits. He has the technique of a tungfor."

 

332

 

Amu McCaffny fc? SM. Stating

 

That was a metaphor for the younger Kolnari, who

had never seen homeworld. In Kolnar's seas, there was

an animal Ñ more or less an animal Ñ that con-

centrated the abundant transuranics from seawater in

a specialized section of its gut. It sucked in water and

sprayed it on the heated chamber that resulted, expell-

ing it behind as steam for proptUsion. Tunglor massed

in at about the same as the Dreadful Bride, and they

attacked by rising from depth at fifty or sixty knots and

ramming with their metal-sapphire-fiber prows, never

deviating from the shortest course. Belazir's ancestors

had made themselves nobles by hunting tunglor, hunt-

ing them to gain plutonium for weapons and

powerplants.

 

"As you do when you take your pleasure," Belazir

went on, slapping his companion on the back of the

neck in mock reproof.

 

Serig grinned slyly. "It's not as if they were women"

He omitted the "lord" in this brief instance, speaking

man to man. "And how will you take this Channa

creature?"

 

"With slow care, fool, as all true pleasures should be

savored: wine, a woman, revenge. And on the Dreadful

Bride, when we have left," Belazir said.

 

Serig raised brows in surprise. "You think her wor-

thy of bearing slaves, lord?" he said.

 

"Many." The male offspring would be castrated Ñ

that was how such as the medico were madeÑand the

females bred back to the Divine Seed. In four or five

generations, with careful testing, they could become

Kolnari of the lowest caste.

 

"I will need some pleasure to relax me after our

labors," Belazir added.

 

Serig nodded, needing no further explanation.

They would have to destroy and leave for Bethel

immediately. The Central Worlds Navy would be all

over these stars as soon as they learned of the

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

333

 

destruction of SSS-900-C. The Clan would run a

long, long way, to wait among unpeopled, unsur-

veyed systems while they assimilated this treasure

and bred the strength to use it. Empty systems held

raw materials and energy in plenty, if you had the

I0ols, and the uni^gerse was unimaginably vast. That

voyage would be a giant step nearer the good day

when it was the Central Worlds' scumvermin who

were the scattering of fugitives, and the Divine Seed

the power that bred and covered world upon world

upon world. A long, if necessary, flight would be

tedious.

 

"So, leave me," Belazir said. "See to the preparations

for the transports. Now I will speak with the two scum-

vermin."

 

Their Kolnari guards seemed incapable of letting

them just walk through a doorway. The prisoners were

always propelled over the threshold with a hearty

shove. Thus far Channa and Amos had managed to

keep their feet, which seemed to inspire ever more

energetic pushing. Channa wondered if the two

guards bet money on which of them would stumble

first Such treatment irritated her and it must infuriate

Amos beyond endurance, since he was born noble

among a ceremonious people.

 

The last door gave onto the nature deck, one of the

jewels of the SSS-900-C. Amos straightened then,

almost smiling. The deck covered several hundred

hectares; lakes, several small wooded areas, and

meadows. A stream wandered from savannah to a min-

iature rain forest, through prairie and into the softly

informal confines of a classic country-house garden,

here by the entrance. Herons stalked through the

reeds by the river, alert for the fish that leaped after

dragonflies. The smell was overwhelmingly green. Off

in the middle distance, a herd of small deer browsed.

 

334

 

Amu McCoffrey 6? SM. Stirling

 

The air was full of birdsong. Normally there were

parties of picnickers and the shouts of children. Now a

plasma gun swung down before them.

 

"Wait the Great Lord's pleasure, scumvermin," the

amplified voice of the Kolnar said^,

 

Ok-oh, Channa thought, with a sinking stomach. That

sounds bad. She and Amos had discussed what to do

under interrogation, but she had doubts about his

ability to keep control of his temper.

 

As for me, FU live through what I have to. And Ptt dance on

their graves, she thought grimly. She had been one of

the first to take the new virus.

 

"Buck up, kid," Simeon's voice whispered in her

inner ear. It had the odd gravelly tone he adopted in

tense moments. "Remember, I've got no fixed sensors

in there, so the implants will have to do. I'm with you,

and I'll give a running translation of anything the

pirates say in their jabber. Okay? And from the struc-

ture of their language, the phrase they just used means

something like 'front and center.'"

 

"Got it," she subvocalized.

 

They jumped back against the wall smardy when a

Kolnari bossman came through, looking as if he would

rather walk over them. For a moment, Channa thought

it was Belazir, and then caught the few subde differences

which told her he was not. Simeon's voice confirmed it

Serig followed, a minute later. They both cast their eyes

down, to avoid showing the raw desire to kill they shared.

 

"Now, scumvermin," the guard said.

 

"Ohhhhh, am I getting sick of hearing that word," Channa

subspoke.

 

"You and me and Simeon-Amos both," Simeon

agreed. The Bethelite had the button in his ear, but he

hadn't been able to train a subvocal level that was

inaudible. The Kolnari didn't hear all that well at the

margins of audibility and had no reason to use sensitive

hearing devices.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

335

 

Belazir had set up his command post beneath a huge

oak tree. He lolled at his ease on a reclining chair, a

wreath of fresh wildflowers adorned his hair, dappled

shade moving on his sleek skin and the priceless silks of

his clothing. On one side of him was a mobile console

and a table scattered with notescreens, printouts, small

pieces of equipment Also some artwork which Simeon

recognized, garnered from galleries and the museum.

 

One piece Channa did not remember and the brain

could not name, a flamboyant carving in some bone or

ivory of a... submarine with fangs? jet-propelled spearjish*

Whatever, it had the same air of ruthless speed that a

striking hawk might

 

"Ah, your eyes light on the tunglor," Belazir said

affably. As always, the sheer physicalpresence of the man

struck her like a blow. "From homeworld... Kolnar."

 

The guard behind them reached out an arm to force

them down.

 

"No, to one knee will do," Belazir said easily. His

Standard was better, even in these few days. "Do you

wish refreshment?"

 

He waved to his other side to the table where food and

bottles of wine rested, patently supplied by the Perimeter

Restaurant The young waitress was from the Perimeter,

too, although there she had worn clothes.

 

"No, Master and God," Amos and Charma said in

meek unison.

 

Belazir smiled and held out his hand. The waitress

put a water-glass tumbler of Mart'an's famous apricot-

brandy liqueur into it. He drank it off in ten long

swallows and Channa knew a moment's wild hope.

 

Simeon's voice was sour. "No joy," he sent. "I

checked with Chaundra. They metabolize ethanol so

fast he'll only be mildly buzzed.**

 

"Well," the pirate said in that voice like a bronze bell

that purred. "There is business. The matter of the

attack on the Divine Seed of Kolnar."

 

336

 

AnneMcCaffny &?SJW. Staling

 

"He's not too upset, I think," Simeon told them.

"Heartbeat absolutely Kolnar-normal, no pupil dila-

tion. Got an idea the victims may have been from one of

the other ships. Play it polite-firnj."

 

"Lord and God," Channa saii "The criminals will

be found and punished."

 

Subvocal from Simeon: "You hit hisfurmybone with that,

Happy. He's killing himself laughing mside."

 

Channa went on. "I've made several general broad-

casts calling for obedience, Master and God."

 

"So you have. I notice,joo, that it is always you and

not your companion... colleague?"

 

"Simeon-Amos is Ñ" Channa fell silent as the

Kolnari's hand indicated that Simeon-Amos should

answer.

 

"I am the junior, Master and God," Amos said, eyes

fixed on the ground.

 

"Look at me, Simeon-Amos." The stares met for

long seconds. Then Belazir gestured again, turning his

attention back to Channa. "Well and good. As we

expect to hold the station in our fist for some time,

these acts of stupidity must cease."

 

"Lying through his teeth, babe."

 

"You sent messages desiring audience, Channahap,"

Belazir went on. He rose, like a black fountain tipped

with white gold, the loose sleeves floating back from his

arms like wings. He looked down from his near two

meters of height. "Continue."

 

"Master and God," she said, in a tone as empty of any

but the formal semantic content as she could make it,

"your troops fornicate like Ñ" she paused to search for

a word "Ñ rotweilers."

 

"Big chuckle at that one, Charmie." Simeon was furious.

 

Belazir crossed his arms. "Why does this not seem

complimentary?"

 

Channa looked up at him. "They bite," she said

emotionlessly, covering her disgust, "all the time."

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

337

 

"Then the sc Ñ the chosen ones should not resist

their fete," Belazir said. "It is our custom when we meet

resistance."

 

"They don't resist!" Channa said sharply, then

managed a taut smile. "Should we bite back?"

 

A rustle went throijgh the line of armored troops

behind Belazir and the duster of officers with feathers

and jewels in their hair. The noble silenced them with a

toss of his head.

 

"I would not recommend it," he said sardonically.

"The custom to which I refer is that of enjoying the

fruits of victory. A most ancient custom, surely, even

you must know of it? Make another of your speeches.

Outline their duties. A hard, sincere effort to please.

Then they shall be caressed as they labor, not savaged."

 

"Master and God, when you bruise the fruit too much,

it goes bad! The problem is that I have a hundred people

in sickbay being sewn back together and under medica-

tion due to human bites and various other wounds.

Initially, there were three hundred sick to begin with, not

counting the ones who've been flogged."

 

"Are they injured?"

 

No, apart from shaking and crying and waking up with

nightmares, she thought The Kolnari had a whip that did

something to the nervous system. "Master and God Ñ"

however she tried, she couldn't quite keep the sarcasm

out of that"Ñ the problem involves vital work positions

which are left empty. This isn't a planet It doesn't run

itself. Everything has to be done without error. Fatigue

leads to error, error leads to failure, and failure can lead

to death. I cannot do the impossible, order me however

you want"

 

"Now that," he said, "is the wrong tone." Suddenly he

was much closer, and took her chin between thumb and

forefinger. "Entirely. Do you understand, Channahap?"

 

"Yes," she murmured, "yes, I understand." Time

seemed to slow.

 

338

 

Anne McCaffiny fcf 5. M. Stirling

 

He smiled. "Excellent. However, your remarks, if

not the manner in which they were delivered, are

reasonable. I shall give orders that my troops be...

gentler with their slaves. After you have emphasized

the proper attitude toward their duties."

 

Channa's eyes widened.

 

He actually laughed this time~"Yes," he assured her,

"that, too, is our custom. Those of you that please us or

are useful will leave this place on our ships." He

watched her absorb this privilege.

 

"Walk with me," he sa;& putting a hand under her

arm. She jerked slightly at the contact, like the touch of

a live conductor.

 

Amos started to follow. A servo-powered gauntlet

closed down on his skull, so gently that it would not

have cracked an egg. A duplicate of the one that had

crushed his sister's skull. Wind blew through the trees

above them, making the leaves move in a dance that

contrasted to the stillness of the humans below.

 

"A strange way to spend so much effort," Belazir

said, as he nodded to the landscape around them. A

chuckle passed his lips. "Preferable to expend effort

and strength on this than on weapons."

 

"Who does he think buiU his ships and the weapons they're

carrying* " Simeon whispered in her ear.

 

Channa shrugged in answer to both.

 

"Still, it is beautiful," he said. His hand traced the

back of her neck, lightly enough that the pads of his

fingers just touched the hairs. She shivered involun-

tarily.

 

"I am not Serig," he added, stroking the fingers

down her spine and away. "This is like Earth, is it not?"

 

"Mosdy," Channa said. Unconsciously she tilted her

head to one side away from Belazir as Simeon gave her

the relevant information. "A few of the plants and

organisms are from Rigel 4, but they're compatible."

 

"Like looking back into the past," he said. They

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

339

 

stopped, out of sight of the tables. He looked up into

the sky. "Computer," he said. "Night."

 

The constellations of Earth's northern hemisphere

blazed out, as they had not in reality since men learned

to bend electricity to light.

 

"Yes," t'Marid sakl, looking upward at the false sky.

"Very beautiful, but it seems too much openness. As if a

body might fell upward and be sucked out into limitless

 

space."

 

Well, a weakness, she thought. Many spaceborn were

slightly agoraphobic. That could be useful, if Belazir

had been spaceborn.

 

She thought a smile appropriate. "The sensation is

called vertigo. I've occasionally experienced it myself

when planet-side. I was born and raised on a space sta-

tion, so I feel more comfortable under a ceiling."

 

"Something of that," he admitted. "But also... Com-

puter. Night on Kolnar. From Maridapore."

 

Channa gasped in shock at the change. The dark sky

overhead vanished. In its place was a glowing moon-

colored cloud full of colored lights from horizon to

horizon. She blinked, then realized the light was not

that much more brilliant than the Terran sky. Yet this

phenomenon was not a sky: it was a ceilmg across

heaven.

 

"A dozen times full Luna brightness," Simeon supplied.

 

Off to the north, auroras circled and moved, scrolls

vaster than worlds, electric blue and white and pearl.

Beneath them, on the horizon, a volcano was a glowing

firestorm spout, powered by its own natural fission

reactor. Something gigantic and winged slid across the

alien constellations. Smaller things pursued it, diving

and tearing as it fluted an intricate song of grief.

 

"I have never seen this sky," he said thoughtfully.

"Not really. Not even a simulation as good as this." He

issued a second command and the Earth night

returned. "This is more restful."

 

340

 

Arme McCaffny &? 5M. Stating

 

"Ah ... The birds won't like it if you change day to

night like this," Channa said. "You'd better set it back

when you leave. Master and God," she added absently.

 

He looked at her in astonished amusement. "The

birds won't like it?" he said. "Ghannahap, you are a

wonder. The birds won't like iff*the insects will be dis-

turbed ... does this matter?"

 

"We brought them here, to a totally unnatural

environment If we expect them to thrive, then it's our

responsibility to provide them with whatever they

need. They're a part offill this," she said gesturing

widely. "Without the birds and the insects, this would

be sterile, a lifeless tableau. So we have to be mindful of

their needs."

 

He nodded. "I shall leave it on night setting and

dawn shall be in twelve hours. Things have changed

here. Even the birds must realize it"

 

Channa had no reply for that bit of arrogance.

 

"That is the supreme law, of course," he went on,

"for Earth, for Kolnar, for the universe."

 

She made an interrogative sound.

 

"Adapt! Master changing circumstance, or die

unbred. The Seed Ñ the genes, you would say Ñ are

the reality that underlies all this. Taking energy from

the Dead World, growing in complexity and adapta-

tion. All this," and, with a swift movement of his hand,

he caught a dragonfly by its legs for a second, then

released it, "is waves on the surface. Beneath is the

Seed, seeking to replicate itself. All beings, all mind, all

war and trade and art and science, mere waves on the

changeless sea." He smiled kindly. "And fittest of all, of

course, is the Divine Seed of Kolnar. Of that Seed, fit-

test is the High Clan. Which is why you long for union

with it, for such immortality."

 

"I disagree. Lord and God."

 

"No, you do not Your mind may, but that is merely

the vehicle of the ... gene. Watch, when we return.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

341

 

Your Simeon-Amos will be enraged. Naturally enough,

for he suspects the immortality you offer is to be taken

from his seed." He sighed and turned back towards the

tables, hidden behind a line of trees. She trotted to keep

pace, although he did not seem to hurry. "Enough of

pleasant idleness and ]¤hilosophizing. To work!"

 

"Simeon, why do all my Prince Charmings turn out to be

toads?" Channa subvocalized. Amos stood stiff and

withdrawn beside her on the people mover as it slid

down the corridor. "Is he really jealous? Under these cir-

cumstances, that's ridiculous!"     ,;

 

"/('5 also maybe involuntary. Your girl goes walking m the

woods with Lucifer, chattmguup..."

 

"Absurd!"

 

"Beats me, Channa. But FU never, ribbit, turn onya. Rib-

bit!"

 

"Or turn me on, either. It's nice to know someone is still safe

to be with."

 

Whoa! Kick me again, Channa, I think some of my ego is

still unbruised.

 

"That is the scariest son of a bitch I've ever had the

misfortune to meet," she said. Amos nodded silently.

 

"Simeon-Amos?"

 

"Yes, Channa?"

 

"Hold me, would you?" His arm went around her,

and she melted into die firm supportive warmth of his

side. "Thank you," she said.

 

"For what?" His tone was light

 

"For not really being green and warty or eating

flies."

 

"Ah, guys?" This time Simeon's voice came to both of

them. "I just figured something out"

 

"What?" Amos said.

 

"Bad news about Bethel."

 

The Bethelite stiffened again, his face drawing in

lines that showed what he might look like on his

 

342

 

AnneMcCaffrey fc? SM. Stxrlxng

 

deathbed, in the currently unlikely event that he would

live to die of old age.

 

"What?" Amos repeated, this time as a command.

 

"These scumbags Ñ I'm not going to use scumver-

mm, even in reverse Ñ they're planning to loot me bare

and then blow me up."

 

Simeon was understandably upset if he was refer-

ring to the SSS-900-C as "me."

 

"That is bad news for you," Amos said, steeling him-

self for how that would also be bad news for Bethel.

 

"But if they do that, th^Central Worlds Navy will

firid out Ñ would find out, even if the Kolnari had

pulled this hijack off the way we fooled them into

thinking they had. Central Worlds'd send flotillas all

through this sector and look behind every space rock.

For sure, they'd inspect any inhabited system. While

the Saffron system may be ferdlin' remote, it's still on

the maps. And the Kolnari know that, hey* So they're

sacrificing their chance of stripping Bethel in exchange

for the station. Means they gotta leave both, fast. So

what odds they plan on doing Bethel the same way

they do me, when they go? Blow it, too, and cover any

traces they hadn't time to sweep under the carpet.

These guys are pigs, but they're not stupid.*1

 

"Yes, I see," Amos said, barely moving his lips.

"Sound strategic analysis. Thank you, Simeon."

 

Thanks for nothing, the brain thought dismally. Amos

had had the comfort of knowing die Navy would at

least rescue the survivors on his homeworld, win or

lose here on SSS-900-C.

 

"Anything we can do about that?* Channa asked as

they entered the lounge.

 

"Not much more than what we're doing now,"

Simeon said. "But it's going to be a very dose run at the

end. We've got to be ready, at all costs. Minutes may

make the difference."

 

***

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

343

 

Keri Holen tried to read, but she'd been on the same

page for some time now and still had no idea of its con-

tent. Trivia, she thought. Before her life was put in

danger, all her friends and family's lives, she hadn't

known what triviality was. It was anything that didn't

have to do with keepinj you alive; anything that didn't

have to do with winning.

 

"On the other hand, fretting doesn't do me any

good, either," she said. Why did I volunteer* she asked

herself. Well, the risk mas there anyway, and we need to get the

second vims working, she thought. Not everyone was a

gymnast and martial artist, either.

 

Frustrated, she threw the reader onto the cushion

beside her and rose to pace the room. There was a soft

chime and Simeon's public face bloomed on the wall

screen.

 

"The Kolnari are in your area," he said, warning all

those in the threatened sector. "Get your virus capsules

in position. Don't panic. Don't argue or they will harm

you. Remember, place the capsule in your mouth, bite

down, try not to swallow. Good luck," he added fervently.

 

Keri rushed to the cabinet where she had stored her

supply among other pharmaceuticals. Her hands were

shaking so much the capsules flew out of the bottle like

confetti when she at last got it open. Moaning, she

rushed to gather them up and put them away before

the Kolnari arrived. She put one in her mouth, hold-

ing it between cheek and gum.

 

She returned to the living area and stood watching

the door, fingers twining with the tabs of her robe. She

could feel her pulse beat in her lips and fingertips, she

felt as though she'd been running.

 

The door opened.

 

God, she thought as she bit down on the capsule.

There are four of them! The capsule dissolved with a rush

of coolness. Keri smiled broadly and let the robe drop.

 

"Welcome to my parlor." Said the spider to the fly.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

Mazkira entered the elevator and selected her des-

tination. The mining components fabricator was a

treasure of immense value to the Clan. With it, they

could scavenge several crucial materials from unin-

habited asteroids at need. Besides that, the

scumvermin operator was a pleasure to torment, in

several different ways. She grinned. Then the expres-

sion faded. She could smell him, the scent was heavy in

the cage Ñ far more than it should have been when he

merely passed through several times daily.

 

She looked up... into the barrel of a rock-cutter and

above it the grinning face of Kevin Duane.

 

"Eat this, bitch!" he snarled and powered up the cut-

ter. He cut the Kolnari woman in half lengthwise and

smiled as he watched the two sizzling halves crumple to

the floor.

 

The elevator arrived at his level and he replaced the

hatch cover. There was the access tunnel, just where

Joat had told him it would be.

 

He handed Joat the rock-cutter and she raised an

inquiring brow. He gave her a grin and a thumbs-up

sign. Suddenly the elevator dropped out from under-

neath him and he was holding on by his elbows, feet

scrabbling against the slick shaft walls. He inched his way

in, his broad shoulders making it difficult to maneuver.

Far below he could hear the elevator coming up again.

 

"Hurry up!" Joat said, sliding the rock-cutter down

the access tunnel and turning back to pull him in by his

shirt.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

545

 

All she succeeded in doing was pulling it up over his

head; his arms were almost immobilized by the tough

febric.

 

"Stop," he said. "Stop it."

 

"Hurry up!" she cried and slid backwards to give

him room. "Or thaj: elevator will smear your carcass all

the way to the top of the station."

 

He was most of the way in now, but couldn't seem to

get his feet in. He began to panic, barking his knees on

the side walls of the tunnel, the space too narrow to

allow him to turn or pull up his legs. In a panic, he

caught at Joat's legs and yanked. Her palms squealed

on die slick metal as she struggled futilely to keep her

place.

 

The drag was just enough to get him all the way in,

the side of the elevator lifted the soles of his feet gently

as it passed.

 

Kevin dropped his head into his arms and giggled

with mild hysteria.

 

Joat glared at him for a moment, then grinned and

whispered, "Hooray! Another one for our side."

 

"Yes?" Belazir said, looking up from his notescreen.

 

It was the medico again. The Kolnari repressed an

impulse to kick it. If you hit messengers, messages

ceased coming. On the other hand, his rime was valu-

able. Especially now, with the transports here and

loading round the cycle.

 

The thought restored his good humor. Sixty ships, a

fifth part of the Clan's fleet, under his command. Not

only transports, but a fighting platform and a couple of

the factory ships. It was as good as having Chalku

proclaim him successor. Better, since his chances of

living long enough to claim it were much higher. A for-

mal announcement might drive some brick-skull like

Aragiz t1 Varak to desperation.

 

"Great Lord, there is... a problem."

 

346

 

AnmMcCaffrry & S.M. Sorting

 

"Mine or yours, creature?" he said, slightly

impatient The loading was going so slowly.

 

"Great Lord, we have disabling sickness."

 

"What?" Suddenly he was looming over the eunuch.

 

"No, pleasel Don't hurt me. lUfc only old Veskis, the

bonesetter. Please, my Great Lord?"

 

Belazir's aquiline nostrils flarett "Speak."

 

"Over sixty ill warriors have sought medical aid,

Great Lord. We have never seen the like." It swal-

lowed. "Great Lord, we do not know how to cure the

illness!"

 

Belazir had just finished a large meal. Now it lay Hke

curdled hot lead in his gut. Impossible. He tapped at the

notescreen, accessing recent files. Yes, over thirty war-

riors put down or suicided for infection. Not completely

unprecedented, but among the heaviest numerically of

instances on record. If another threescore had reported

sick, there must be many who had not

 

"How does the illness run?" Belazir asked.

 

"Swiftly in some, Great Lord. Fever, loss of nervous

control, debility, nausea. Others more mildly. Still

others recover quickly and are whole. From the blood

of those I may produce a vaccine, in tune."

 

"Do so," Belazir ordered, "Swiftly." In time to avoid

spoiling my triumph here, he thought "Wait"

 

He tapped his notescreen again. Most sickness

occurred among those on no fixed duty. Of those,

t'Varak's ship suffered the most casualties. Belazir

racked his brain for what he knew of diseases. Not

much, since Kolnari were rarely bothered by disease:

accident, yes. He reflected on this problem, queried the

info-banks, thought again.

 

"Orders," he said. "Isolate those infected." Those

whom they could, that is. A noble could be killed but not

placed under restraint "This may.. ." He hesitated. "May

be related to the disease troubling the scumvermin."

Hideous, that a disease would strike the Divine Seed

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

347

 

more strongly than mere scumvermin. "The infected

scumvermin are to be avoided. Go, post the orders,**

 

That such a scourge should arise nowy he thought,

looking back at the notescreen. Loading was moving

far too slowly. Chalku £ad given him a deadline; past

that, they were to abandon anything remaining, kill

and leave. If there was much less than he had

promised, he would go from hero to goat Even if the

total he did manage was more than any other Kolnari

had amassed, performance and prestige would be

measured against expectation.

 

"Time," he muttered. Time was wasting, and the

margin for error with it He stood. "Computer. Kolnar,

noon at Maridapore."

 

White-blue light flashed across the parkland, hurtful

even to him in the instant before his pupils shrank to

pinhead size.

 

Jekit nor Varak prowled the corridors. He was not in

powered armor. There were not enough suits to go

around and their maintenance requirements were

fierce. The patrol was to enforce curfew and prevent

sabotage, which was becoming a problem. He was in a

flexible suit, with a comlink and a plasma rifle. The cor-

ridors in this section were darkened, which gave his

IR-sensitive eyes the advantage over any scumvermin.

 

As if I needed it, he thought. His main enemy was

tedium. The corridors were changeless and identical.

Ten paces left, take a turn at random. Trot down a long

length, checking that the seals on the doors were

unbroken. Flatten to a wall and wait He did isometrics

then, muscle pulling on muscle against the strong

flexible bones of his body. Nothing much else to do;

except that he tired too soon, probably because of the

damnable light gravity he had been living in on this sta-

tion. It would be a relief to get back to Kolnar-standard

on the ship.

 

348

 

Anne McCaffrcy 6? SM. Stating

 

Although there were compensations. Keriholen, for

example. Jekit's teeth clicked together as he remem-

bered how they had taken her, he and his brothers.

Many times since the first occasion.

 

Worth the trouble, he thought timber as an eel and tire-

less as a real woman. Women were scarce for commoners.

The nobles took so many. He and his four brothers Ñ

they were born at one birthingÑhad only two wives be-

tween them, held in common, and a mere eight children.

 

Jekit was sweating. He wiped his face on a sleeve and

resumed the pacing, trying to push such thoughts out

of his mind. Not until after his watch. It was hot,

whatever the gauge said. His stomach felt odd. Maybe

the plundered food was bad, although the Divine Seed

could eat pretty well anything organic.

 

Simeon watched the pirate. This Jekit was a perfect

choice. Definitely had the Mark-II virus, too pig-

ignorant to know it and he was almost asleep from

boredom anyway. A little surprise would be good for

his circulation.

 

He checked the progress of the relief party, ten sol-

diers and a squad leader. Plenty of witnesses, also

perfect Timing was the key. They had only two guards

to relieve before they reached Jekit.

 

Hurt my people, will you, Jekit? he thought. Okay, now

let's see how you tike being on the other end of the stick.

 

He began whispering. The words were loud enough

to be audible, but not loud enough to be understood.

Just nonsense syllables pronounced in inflections

similar to the Kolnari language, minute after minute,

not steadily but rising and falling and stopping

altogether for random intervals. Then an increase in

the volume until the nonsense was a tease, tantalizingly

on the edge of audibility. Add subsonics guaranteed to

have the hair standing up along the spine, although

Kolnari didn't have body hair.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

549

 

Goosebumps, then, he decided. Jekit paced, stopped,

shook his head and brought the plasma rifle to port,

thumbing off the safety.

 

Doesn't this snardfy have any nerves ? Simeon asked him-

self in frustration. Then he added the refinement;

things flickering atfhe edge of vision. The pirate was

probably seeing things without Simeon's visual aids

since the sensors said his temperature was five percent

over normal and rising. Sweat poured down his fece.

That was rare since the Kolnari metabolism didn't

waste moisture.

 

Simeon constructed a less transparent image. Ah,

that made him jump, Simeon thought. "Rankest!" he

whispered, just loud enough to be understood.

 

Die, in Kolnari.

 

"Who's there?" Jekit called out, swinging his weapon

around. "Who goes? Answer me.r

 

Simeon had a conversation going now, male and

female voices whispering vehemently. He moved the

whisperers down the corridors, through chambers and

halls and galleries. Now they were around the corner,

now they were overhead, now right behind him.

 

Jekit spun, his weapon leveled. "Scumvermin!" he

shouted. The warning indicator flicked as his

forefinger took up the slack on the trigger key.

 

The squad had exited the elevator on Jekit's level

and were marching towards his station. Trotting like a

wolf-pack, rather; the leader was in armor, moving at

the same pace. Slam-slam-slam, half a tonne pounding

down at every step.

 

The Kolnari had his back pressed to the wall Simeon

overlaid the powersuit's footfalls, turning them into

drumbeats in time with the fevered warrior's own heart

His head was snapping back and forth wildly, rims of

white showing around the amber of his eyes.

 

Off to the right, around the corner from which his

replacement would come, a voice called.

 

350

 

ArmeMcCaffny&SM Stating

 

IJekit!" His officer called. "Turn to, idler, fool!

Report"

 

Jekit almost moaned with relief, opening his mouth

to call back. When he did he found the words matched,

overlaid, neutralized by something. Shout, scream, noth-

ing but the same blurred yammer.

 

"Painrod for you, seedless stothman," came the

warning from his officer.

 

Jekit crouched and began making his way along the

wall towards the voice. Halfway down the long wall, he

jerked and vomited convulsively, bewildered. It had

never happened to him before, that he lost his food.

 

Footsteps sounded from around the corner as the

replacement squad advanced smartly towards him. He

heard a soft hiss behind him and turned. He screamed

as he looked into a shape out of homework! legend, a

twenty-eyed worm with gnashing concentric mouths,

thicker through the body than a man was high.

 

"Ancha\" he screamed and fired. Grinder. There was

nothing wrong with his reflexes yet, and the spear of

nuclear fire lanced through the monster.

 

Gotcha, Simeon thought again. He'd been pretty

sure that worm program was modeled on something

native to Kolnar. So its name was "grinder"!

Appropriate enough.

 

"Grinder** vanished. Behind it was a figure in power

armor, slowly topping over backwards with the whole

upper pan of the torso gone. The squad behind had

already gone to earth and returned fire. A line of light

touched Jekit's right shoulder, and the plasma gun fell

away. The blurring, blanking wall of un-sound fell

away from his ears so suddenly that he could hear the

slight whine as the weapon automatically cycled

another deuterium pellet into the chamber. A plasma

beam licked out at Jekit and his legs vanished from the

knees down.

 

And he was still hot. His wounds did not hurt yet,

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

351

 

insulated by shock, although he could smell the heavy

fried meat odor. But his head hurt, it hurt... Tlie others

were rushing forward to secure him for interrogation. It

would go very badly for them if he died first

 

Aurnght! Simeon thought Still, it should be fun lis-

tening to Jekit, the mighty warrior, explaining why he

freaked like that Now, rvho's next?

 

Belazir and Aragiz knelt together before Pol t'Veng.

She was wearing the black robe and hood of an

adjudicator and, in the dim light, that left only the yel-

low glow of her eyes visible. Belazir knelt with grace.

The t'Veng was inferior by rank and birth, but she was

efficient Also a woman, of course, but that meant less

these days than it had on Kolnar. Everything in space

was a protected environment, like the fortress-holds.

You either lived or died, generally. Aragiz knelt in

quivering tension and the smell of his rage was musky,

irritating to Belazir.

 

"I find," she said at last, "that Jerik nor Varak, free

common-fighter of subclan t'Varak, opened fire on

clan-kin while in hostile ground, without prior attack."

That was the only excuse, and motivations or reasons

mattered nothing, by Kolnari law.

 

"He killed: one petit-noble officer of subclan t'Marid.

He destroyed: one suit of powered armor. Here is the

judgment of the High Clan.

 

"At the next rendezvous of all units, t'Varak gens

shall render to Belazir t'Marid forty hundred units of

Clan credit or goods to the same value, neutrally

appraised. They shall also render five breeding-age

but unbred females of petit-noble or higher rank, fully

educated. In addition, Belazir t'Marid may go among

the concubines and wives of Aragiz t'Varak for one

cycle and sow there as he wills. Aragiz t'Varak shall do

likewise among Belazir t'Marid's. Judgement is

rendered."

 

352

 

Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. Sttrting

 

As one, they bowed low enough to touch their

foreheads to the deck. A good judgement, Belazir

thought. Fair, wise, and most of all, expedient. Part of

the longstanding trouble was that the t'Varak gens

were not as closely linked by seed as ike rest of the High

Clan families. They had been landless mercenaries on

homeworld, and had had the bad hick to sign on with

the High Clan just before a war that ripped up half a

continent and ended in headlong flight for the sur-

vivors. Technically mercenaries were not subject to the

extermination-proscriptioivo'f the vanquished nobility.

Like peasants and commoners, they could switch

allegiance to the winning side. Technicalities did tend

to get lost in the fine glow of victory, though....

 

Of course, Aragiz t'Varak would be unlikely to look at it

in quite that way. Still, in the long term, knowing the

closer relationship would reduce hostility. Hopefully.

 

Without word or gesture, Aragiz rose and stalked

out. No style at all, Belazir thought The fine was a trifle

compared to what the station was bringing in, and they

both had sixty or seventy children already. He merely

hoped the t'Varak intellect was training and not a taint.

The lights came up, and Pol removed the hood. That

changed her from adjudicator to ordinary noble once

more. "Fool," she said, with no need to say exactly who.

"Dolt," he agreed, and snapped his fingers.

Serig entered. They setded in comfortably.

"Loading is going too slowly," Belazir said.

"Truth, lord," Serig answered.

 

"Okay," Simeon whispered in Channa's ear. "He's in

 

position."

 

The loading bay at the south-polar docking tube was

more crowded than it had ever before been in the

station's seventy-odd years, mostly cluttered with disas-

sembled equipment from the electronics fabricators

two levels below, broken down just enough to let them

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

353

 

be moved through the freight elevators. It would be

more efficient to strip them down further and box the

components, but that made them too easy to sabotage.

There had been executions of stationers after Kolnari

inspections showed hoy easy. Delicate electronics...

 

Weird, Channa thought, ostentatiously looking down

at her notescreen. There had been no reprisals at all

for the deaths and there had been a fair number. The

Kolnari had just increased their patrols, as if taunting

the stationers.

 

Channa turned to the pirate technician. Even weirder.

You didn't think of pirates as having technicians. They

looked much the same as the sleekly dangerous warriors

and flamboyant nobles, but brisker.

 

Then again, they've kept thousands of people and hundreds

of skips going for three generationsÑseven of theirs.

 

"Lord," she said in the appropriate meek tone,

"here's the next load. Do you accept?"

 

The Kolnari looked at the fabricator. It was a spindle-

shaped synth-and-metal machine about three meters long

and one through at the widest point; half tubing and

molecular shape chambers, half modules. Both points of

the spindle ended in tapped burls that fitted into a bearing

race. Underneath it was a floater cradle withÑapparently

Ñsix arms and a twenty-centimeter base.

 

The Kolnari said something in her own language to

her team Ñ women were more common among their

technical class, evidently Ñ and they went to work,

plugging in their own info-systems and a portable

power-feed to bring the fabricator up to standby.

 

"All order is,** the pirate said to her, waving her back.

"Scumvermin, next bring.**

 

The loading bay was one hundred meters by two

hundred by three. Two Clan transports were docked at

the outer hatches. Two-thirds of the way down the

deck, the enemy had drawn a red line. On either side

was a squad in power armor. Floating over them were

 

354   Amu McCaffny&SM. Stirling

 

pods of small servo-guns, antipersonnel weapons,

heavy needlers that could be fired without endanger-

ing the fabric of the station. The weapons were highly

dangerous to anyone not in combat armor, of course.

Stationside of the line were civilians, working mostly in

their own teams with a few Kolnari for supervision.

Dockside of the line were only the Clan, crews. There

were three checks from the initial position to the line:

once while the equipment was being stripped down, a

second when the stationer stevedores took charge, and

a third when it was ready to go pver the line itself.

 

If any of the checks showed damage, the stationers in

charge were flogged to death with a powered whip.

Falling below quota earned ten strokes, which reduced

the team's efficiency drastically but was a very potent

 

motivator.

 

It was ingenious, and working far too well.

 

Simeon murmured again. "Yeah, they're locked in."

 

Channa forced herself not to look at the eyes of the

Kolnari. However Simeon was doing it, it was not

simple holographic projection. Maybe tightbeam on

the retina....

 

Amos was whistling cheerfully as he swung the lifter

around. God, he's even gutsier than he is pretty, Channa

thought They'd volunteered for this. Too many nerves

had been shattered by the holocast record of die flog-

gings. Someone had to restore confidence. To the

Kolnari, it looked like the leaders were giving an

example of enthusiastic obedience. Joseph bowed low

as he handed over the controller pad for the cradle.

Across the back of his overall was printed Scumuermin

Rule OK. One of Simeon's suggestions to build morale.

 

The cradle followed obediently over the red line,

behind the Kolnari technicians and toward the waiting

cargo bay of the transport The line divided the gravity

fields; one Standard gravity at the line itself, running

quickly up to 1.6 at the lowered ramp-entrance. The

 

THE CrTY WHO FOUGHT

 

355

 

work party moved through the crowds and the waiting

chains of lifters. There was a howl as the four light arms

_ suddenly there were only four Ñ of the cradle gave

way. The Kolnari team leapt in fearlessly, but the lifter

failed in a burst of sparks and boomed hollowly to the

deck plates. The fabricate^ slewed out of the broken

cradle and onto the bent legs of the crew chief as she

heaved back at the weight ten times her own.

 

The pirate alarms rang like angry windchimes. Chan-

na and the others froze. So did the damaged tech. The

other Kolnari lifted the damaged fabricator and set it

down on a pad of packing-fiber nearby; lifting with

unison grunt of effort and walking six steps with a low-

voiced chant. They set the machine down with a

mother's tender care. The tech lay with the broken bones

projecting through the dark skin of her kneecaps, blood

welling around them and the whites showing aU around

her honey-colored eyes. The flying guns swooped in.

Channa found herself looking down the business end of

one, and so did each of the group that had brought the

ruined machine to the edge of the Kolnari line.

 

Warriors followed; not the armored specialists, but

crew on rotation duty. One was pulling a powered

whip from his belt as he came. Channa dosed her eyes,

but the first stroke never landed. She heard his voice

murmur the Kolnari equivalent of, "Yes, sir."

 

She opened her eyes again. Amos and Joseph

were rocking back on their heels as if they'd been

ready to spring.

 

"Hequewdthebigboss," Simeon ghost-spoke through her

implant. "Bela^stel^hmtockeckthern^ctionrecords.''

 

The Kolnari did, snapping away her notescreen,

then going over to check the injured technician.

Nobody had attended to her. Despite her being an

enemy, Channa felt a little squeamish looking at the

white splinters and the quivers of pain that ran across

the fine-boned oval lace.

 

356

 

Ame McCaffrey fe? SM. Stirling

 

"She's saying it mas a regulation medium-heavy Ufter, when

she looked it over," he said. "He's checking. Belazir says it's not

your fault."

 

Sweat was running down Channa's back. She began

to relax, then swore under her brej£h as the warrior

drew a knife. The technician closed her eyes and tilted

her head; a quick stab in the back of the neck and she

was still.

 

"Well, that worked," she said to Simeon.

 

"What do you mean ? "*

 

'Tm not quite sure."

 

The fabricator would have to go back to the

machine-shop, two levels up, to be repaired. The

machines required to produce replacements for the

damaged parts could not be disassembled until the

work was done.

 

Belazir moved a squadron of light cruisers to a new

quadrant and sat back. So, he thought.

 

Amazing. Channahap was fighting him to a standstill

in this strategy game. She had actually won one of the

earlier rounds. A very, very good player; few Kolnari

senior officers could have done better, and war-game

tournaments were one of the main ways they filled

their leisure.

 

"The Channahap does well?" Serig said. He looked

over his commander's shoulder into the Bride's display

tank, then reran the opening moves on a smaller

screen nearby. "Well, indeed."

 

Belazir nodded. What a woman! he thought

enthusiastically. He had stopped referring to her as

scumvermin to himself some time ago. The battle of

delay and lies she had waged against him was just as skill-

ful and tricky as the war games. It was a true pity she was

not of the Divine Seed; an even greater pity that she

would not live very many years in the environment of the

Clan's ships. Outsiders rarely found the air, food, and

 

r.

 

THE Cny WHO FOUGHT

 

357

 

water of Kolnar life-supporting. Certainly the Kolnari's

own ancestors had not, until they adapted.

 

But I vritt enjoy her greatly while she lives.

 

"Now, these reports," he went on to Serig. "They read

like the ravings of the insane. What do they mean?"

 

"An excellent question, my lord. One that I should

like to ask some of these scumvermin."

 

"You consider this to be the result of enemy action?"

 

"It seems reasonable to me, my lord. Drugs to the

troops affected. Or, they may know something about

these phenomena."

 

Belazir considered his second. "Or they may know

nothing. It could even be some sabotage scheme of

Aragiz, difficult though that is to believe. Or a side-effect

of this... illness."

 

"Bad for morale either way, my lord. And the illness

itself may be a weapon."

 

He nodded. "Very well. Take five slaves, chosen at

random, none critical to the station's function, and tor-

ture them."

 

"Only five, my lord?" Serig's soft voice expressed

astonishment.

 

"These are an unusually soft and sensitive people,"

Belazir answered. "Five will be quite sufficient More

would cause panic. For now, let the scumvermin as a

whole remain calm and complacent and cooperative.

Let them panic later at a time of our choosing. Hmm?

Torture the 6ve for the information we need on this Ñ

phenomenon. If they know nothing, take others."

 

"Shall I broadcast that?"

 

"No, no, Serig. If we broadcast our ignorance, we

make plain that there is something our warriors fear. If

it is enemy action, they will know what we seek Ñ or

the next five."

 

Serig bowed from the waist. "Very good, my lord."

 

Belazir returned his attention to the game.

 

***

 

358

 

AmuMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

 

"Why?" Channa asked.

 

"You will take your hands from my desk and you will

stand straight," Bdazir told her calmly, pointing a slender

dagger at her. He stared at Channa until she complied.

 

"Two of those people are probjlbly going to die," she

whispered, breathing hard. "Lord and God. They

were tortured"    ^!

 

"Of course they were. I ordered it so."

 

"ButaAp?"

 

He stood and walked slowly around the desk to

stand dose behind her, then spoke softly into her ear.

"We are conquerors. We do not explain our actions.

This is not a game such as we play in your quarters,

lovely Channa, this is reality."

 

She carefully folded her hands before her and

lowered her eyes.

 

"I apologize for my impetuousness," she said hum-

bly. "I was trained to take my duties seriously, and

sometimes this makes me rash. It's why I must ask

about this terrible matter. I can't believe that you enjoy

doing such things." She looked at him appealingly over

her shoulder. "Please don't hurt my people."

 

"And you lie so badly," he said. He studied her face

for a moment. "My troops," he went on thoughtfully,

"spoke of'things' flickering at the corners of their eyes,

of Voices' murmuring things not quite heard."

 

"What has that got to do with us?"

 

He walked around her and sat on a corner of his

desk. "Perhaps nothing, perhaps everything. That is

what we wanted to know."

 

"And it never occurred to you that perhaps something

in the mixture of gases that we breath might cause this

effect in your people? Or that these 'things' flickeringjust

out of sight might be an infestation of insects..."

 

"Oh no, they were, according to the reports, much

too large to be mere insects."

 

"Some other vermin, then."

 

THE cnr WHO FOUGHT

 

359

 

"Doubtful."

 

"Well, what about my first suggestion, perhaps our

atmosphere requires adjustment?"

 

"Possible."

 

"Then perhaps you qpuld send some volunteers to

our medical center for tests."

 

Belazir laughed. "No. We know that a virus is loose.

However, we have no interest in a cure for it. If it causes

troops to become nonfunctional, we will kill them our-

selves. Unless it endangers this mission, we will take no

countermeasures."

 

Channa gaped for a moment.

 

"We did not become the Divine Seed," he continued,

"by pampering weakness. After in-vesting so much

capital and time in training, it is, however, inconvenient

to have adults die. When we return, we will spread the

virus ourselves, quite deliberately, among the children

of the High Clan. If this sickness is your doing, you do

us a service Ñ as do those who ambush our troops in

the corridors. It reduces the ranks of imperfect Seeds."

 

"Ah, she is magnificent," he quoted softly to himself

in his own language. "Her stride is the lightning strik-

ing. In her right hand is a sword of flame, in her left

the goad of pain. Her voice is the shriek of the north

wind. In her eyes flash comets, portents of wonder,

and her hair is a storm at midnight. Between her

thighs is the road to Paradise. I look upon her and my

strength rises, yet I rage without fulfillment." He

leaned closer and Channa could feel his breath on

her lips.

 

Well, Simeon thought, that last bit rather neatly sums up

my relationship with Charma. He relayed a running trans-

lation.

 

"You've made a real conquest, Happy."

 

"ThatÑisÑnot Ñfunny" Channa subvocalized.

 

The Kolnari touched her lighdy with the point of

the dagger, then returned to his chair, leaving her

 

360

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? 5JVf. Stirling

 

shivering where she stood. He touched his tongue

to the bead of blood on the steel.

 

"Perhaps," Belazir said, his voice amused, "I should

take you with me when we go. I would give you some-

thing to fight besides boredcgn. You deserve the

challenge." Then he smiled. "You may go."

 

Channa turned and walked away on shaking legs.

When she was in the elevator, she vented her frustra-

tion in a savage tone.

 

"I really want to kill him, Simeon. I can see myself

doing it, just what I would do, and I think I would

enjoy it." She paused. "See how bad company corrupts

my morals?"

 

"What did you think of that poem?"

 

"I wasn't listening."

 

"I think he was trying to flatter you."

 

" 'Her voice is like the shrieking of the north wind1?"

 

"I thought you weren't listening?"

 

"Well, I caughti/wi." She laughed weakly. "Never tel

a woman her voice reminds you of something shriek-

ing. It won't win you any points."

 

"Important dating dp, Channa, thank you."

 

"Oh... I love you, Simeon. You keep me sane. And

the Prince of Darkness can Ñ"

 

"Ñ eat shit and die." / love you too, Channa, and you

drive me crazy.

 

* CHAFrtRTWENTY-ONE

 

Another point of light flared in the holo tank.

 

"You have destroyed my dreadnought," Belazir said,

surprise and amusement in his voice. He looked up at

Channa. She was sweating heavily, strings of black hair

plastered to her forehead. The Kolnari was calm as

ever as he took another draught of the sparkling water

flavored with metal salts.

 

"That makes ..." He paused to recollect. "Seventy-

five wins for me and three for you. Ah, well." He

dapped his hands, and attendants brought his equip-

ment. "Enough pleasure; there is work to be done."

 

"Okay, people," Simeon said. The voices died down.

"We've got a little time. You-know-who's sleeping the

sleep of the wicked."

 

The screens went silent, and so did the litde dutch of

men and women seated around the lounge table.

 

"They're going to be more or less finished in one

more day-cycle," he went on.

 

"One?" Amos said. "They have more items marked

for shipping than they could handle in one day."

 

"Trust me. I've been eavesdropping. They're doing

that to fool us. Nearly fooled me! Only their top people

know."

 

"How long has it been?" Patsy whispered.

 

"Sixteen days," Simeon said.

 

Doctor Chaundra swallowed. "A hundred dead.

Many times that are ... injured, in various ways. We

cannot endure more of this."

 

362

 

Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. Stating

 

"We won't have to. One more day, and we're saved

or we're all dead."

 

"Hie Navy?" Joseph said.

 

"They dropped a scout into the system today,"

Simeon replied. His image raised a hand to stem die

babble. "It's heavily stealthed. I have the recognition

codes, or I'd never have detected it. Yes, the flotilla is

coming.

 

"They should be here, and soon. However, we've got

to have a plan for the worst case.** He paused before he

could go on. "The worst case is the Navy doesn't get

here quite in time. We've got to give it our best shot.

The Kolnari've got a lot of their people spread out, and

their ships docked. They're planning on keeping it that

way until the last minute. I've figured out a few

indicators that'll tell me right down to the minute."

 

Channa swallowed and nodded. One of them would

be Belazir coining to take her off to the Dreadful Bride.

 

"The battle platform will undock first. When they

start that, we've got to begin our uprising! If we can cut

enough of them ofFfrom their ships and keep the ships

from undocking Ñ I've got some plans on that tactic Ñ¥

then they can't blow the station."

 

Amos nodded somberly. "The cost... the cost in lives

will be very high. But there is no alternative."

 

"We cannot fight for long," Joseph said. "A delaying

action at best. They have the weapons, armor,

organization. And they need not fear damage to the

station. They will use their onwatch ships to force-dock

through the hull, outflank us. We have no real

weapons."

 

"How many times have we gamed the uprising?"

Amos said, rubbing his hand across his face. "Forty,

fifty? Not once have we won, no matter if you or I

command."

 

Simeon nodded. "Better to die on your feet than die

on your knees," he said. Grim smiles greeted the sally.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

363

 

Most of them had seen his tapes of the Warsaw Ghetto.

"I can disorganize them a lot more than they expect,"

he went on. "We've got some weapons, too."

 

They all looked at the column.

 

"Mikesun?" he said. .

 

The section repcwas haggard and drawn, as you

would expect from someone who had been working in

cramped quarters for more than two weeks.

 

"I've got them unpacked and ready," he said. His

hands moved into the light. "'Bout a thousand. Plus

the explosives you told us to get ready."

 

Suddenly he had a needier in his hands. A huge

chunky-looking thing, of no make any of them recog-

nized.

 

"Where on ... where did you get those, Simeon?**

Channa asked.

 

"Ah, um." Simeon sounded slightly embarrassed,

she thought. "Well, you know how 1 like to collect stufE

They were cheap Ñ a ship needed some fuel bad and

didn't have credit. And I just liked the thought of

having my own arsenal. 'Someday we might need this

kind of stuff.' I was right, wasn't I?"

 

"Yes, bless you," she said simply, because the relief

she felt at seeing honest-to-God weapons was so

intense.

 

Somebody swore. "Why haven't we had those before

now? I've had my people attacking Kolnari patrols

with their bare hands Ñ"

 

"Because we couldn't let them take us seriously too

soon!" Channa said sharply. "Any sort of formal

weaponry would have alerted them. We had to do as

much damage as we could without such assists, until

the last moment. They won't be expecting us to have

needlers. We'll have surprise and shock on our side."

 

Amos leaned forward, more warmth in his tone than

was usual when he spoke to the brain." How are they to

be distributed?"

 

364

 

Amu McCaffrey &? SJVf. Stirling

 

"Remember when I said I'd put some other stuff that

might be useful in the sealed-off sections? And Patsy

and Joat've been mixing stuff around, too, through the

passageways."

 

"With a thousand needlers -3-" Amos began, and

then shrugged, oddly hopeless. Joseph nodded.

 

"Hmm. What make are those?" Patsy said, with a

spark of her old interest

 

"Ursinar manufacture," Simeon said. "Obscure

race, big and hairy, always insisted that it was their right

to arm bears."    *¥'

 

"This may only prolong the agony and delay the

inevitable," Amos said. "So little against so much."

Then he shook himself. "Still, it is better to die fight-

ing."

 

"Hell, better to win and live," Simeon said.

 

"In the meantime," Amos said, standing and sweep-

ing his eyes from screen to screen, "push them hard.

They are incapable of resisting a territorial challenge

from a weaker opponent Ñ even when it would be

logical to pull back. Take more risks."

 

Well, he takes as many as the rest of us do, Channa

thought. Quite the little commander all the same. Wry

amusement colored her exhaustion.

 

"Security monitor's locked," Joat said. "Now, your bit"

 

Seld went to the electronics access panel and began

fiddling with its innards. Then he inserted the hedron

he had prepared. The resulting picture would be dis-

torted in the way the security computers had been

since the pirate worm program went in. But they would

distort the images of Joat and Seld in selective ways.

Making them appear taller, much darker...

 

Joat went in die opposite direction, placing herself at

the end of the corridor in the lookout's position.

 

When he had finished he joined her and tapped her

shoulder. "Time," he whispered.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

365

 

¥Just a sec." She opened her pack and withdrew a

monocrystal filament dispenser. The thread was a

molecule in diameter but incredibly strong. Dangerous

to handle, too. Thinner than the thinnest knife-blade

could ever be.

 

"What are you gonna do with that?" he asked puz-

zled. "I thought you were planting something."

 

"Stick around and you'll see," she said, waggling her

eyebrows.

 

She knelt beside the wall and attached an end of the

beryllium monocrystal filament to the corridor panel at

about knee height Using the tiny laser that was part of

the dispenser, the end was soldered into place, leaving

a slight stickiness when she touched the wall. She

reeled out the invisible fiber and tacked the other end

to the opposite wall, keeping a careful mental image of

where it was.

 

Seld turned pale. "You can't... you know what that

stuff does!"

 

"Sure do," she said smugly. "Ol1 Jack-of-All-Trades is

gonna give new meaning to 'cut off at the knees.' *

 

"You can't," he said, and grabbed her arm. "They're

bastards, but they're... they're sentients. You can't be

maiming them like that." His voice had taken on a

tinge of his father's accent again, but he was shaking

with tension. Drops of sweat broke out at the edge of

his reddish-brown hair. "It's evil! What are you think-

ing about?"

 

She snatched her arm from his grip. "I'm thinking

about what they did. Tortured people. What they did to

Patsy, and your friend Juke. I'm thinking about

payback."

 

He licked his lips. "Not like this, I won't have any-

thing to do with it Couldn't you just... kill them clean?

C'mon,Joat?"

 

She pushed him back with her shoulder and tacked

another line through at about waist height for a taD adult

 

366

 

Anne McCaffny fc? SM. Stirling

 

"Sim says," she went on, drawing three more lines

about shin-height, "that cutting the enemy up is better

than killin' 'em. Shakes them up more, and they gotta

take care of them."

 

"If we do stuff like this, how are we different from

them?"

 

She turned on him, snarling. '"Cause we live here and

we're not doing this forfunl Or to make a nardy credit

offit!"

 

Seld sat down abruptly against the corridor wall.

 

"Seld?" she said, her fage smoothing out abruptly

and her voice changing. "Seld, you okay? You need

your meds?"

 

"I'm okay. I just. .. I just don't like you as much

when you're like this, Joat. And I really like you. You

know?"

 

Sometimes I don't like me much, Joat thought. She

turned away and blew out her lips in exasperation.

"Don't go buckawbuckaw on me now, Seld, 'cause it's

gonna get worse around here before it gets better. If it

gets better." Everything always gets worse.

 

He raised his head from his knees. "If I'm going to

die soon I want to die clean," he said. "Gimme your

V-pills."

 

"Why?"

 

"Lost mine."

 

"Okay." They were supposed to take the pill if they

came into contact with a Kolnari. Joat didn't intend to,

or to live if she did. Seld pocketed the pills and stalked

off toward his own escape route.

 

She pursed her lips and tacked a new line to the wall

at the opening of the connecting corridor, at what she

estimated as head-height for a Kolnari.

 

Then she ducked under it by a wide margin, tip-toed

back toward the first line. She stopped well short of it

and listened.

 

Come on, you gruntfudders, she thought. Rzrdling move.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

367

 

They should be amazed that it was taking the first patrol

so long to respond. She went to stand by the sabotaged

panel and listened, hearing only the pounding of her

own heart, which felt as if it wanted to tear free ofher thin

chest. Then at last, her quick ears caught the sound of

movement. She counted to five and began to retreat

toward the second line. She entered the corridor just as

she heard a shouted "Halt!" in KolnarL

 

Perfect, she thought, all they saw was the coveraW They

hadn't said halt, scumvermin, either.

 

A couple of shots were fired; light weapons, needles

spanging off metal. The squad leader barked an order

for cease fire and pursuit. Feet tapped the mesh cover-

ing of the corridor, in the distinctive long strides of the

pirates.

 

Screams rang down the corridor, clanging and echo-

ing in the dose space. Joat leaned forward from where

she crouched and looked out around the corner. There

was a malicious grin on her face, but it died at what she

saw. Two of the Kolnari soldiers lay on the floor in a small

pond of blood, hanging over the ultrastrong invisible

wire that had sawn through their legs and opened them

up from navel to backbone like a butterflied shrimp. As

she watched, a body fell to the ground in two pieces, and

there was so much, so much blood and guts and all the

colors, and a pink-purple lung...

 

One Kolnari trooper reached toward her severed

legs and cut her hand in half to the wrist. Two fingers

flopped uselessly as she clutched her arm and

screamed and screamed, not in pain or fear but sheer

terror of the invisible something that had killed her.

 

"Oh, multi grudly," Joat whispered to herself. The

sound of the words against what she saw was so out of

place that she felt hysterical giggles bubbling up.

Something warned her that that sort of giggling would

be very difficult to stop once it started, so she backed

away. Her eyes were huge saucers in her thin pale face.

 

368

 

Anne McCaffwy &SM. Strrimg

 

At the other end of Joat's corridor was one of

Simeon's hidden elevators. She tossed the wire spool

out into the corridor before she entered it. Behind her

there were shouts: the next enemy squad. From the

ringing sounds, they tested to find the wires with the

barrels of their weapons. There was a double thud as

one unwary Kolnari turned too iast into the corridor

and decapitated himself on the final trap.

 

Moving briskly, Joat exited the elevator three levels

up and entered an access corridor meant for electrical

repairs. She transferred tcÈone of the small ventilation

shafts and dragged herself quickly and efficiently to a

larger open area where an array of the shafts met. She

was safe here: it was one of her bases, with a pallet and

some ration boxes as well as tools pilfered from

Engineering, if you could call it pilfering when they

handed them to you willingly. They were calling Joat

the "Spirit of SSS-900-C," or Simeon's Gremlin.

 

Then she was violendy sick to her stomach. Servos

arrived, clicking and cheeping to themselves, and

cleaned up the mess.

 

Joat lay down, cradling her face on her arms, and

wept bitterly. Long wracking sobs, like nothing she

could remember.

 

'Joat... honey, have you been hurt?" Simeon's voice

was soft and warm, like a vaguely remembered some-

thing that once held her.

 

She lifted a face flushed with weeping, but her lips

were white.

 

"I'm not as tough as I thought," she said through her

sobs. "I didn't think ... Shit, no! I've gotta heart like a

rock. That's me, Joat the killer! Did you hear me snanc-

ing Seld for a wuss?" A cough racked her, and she

wiped her eyes on the back of her hands. "He'll hate

me! I hate myself! It was so Ñ" And she threw herself

down and bit the mattress. An eerie crooning wail

echoed through the corridor.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

369

 

"Shhh, it's all right, it's all right."

 

"I wanna go home!"

 

"Joat. Joat, honey. I'm with you. You are home.

You'll always have a home with me. / don't hate you,

Joat. You're not bad, honey. But sometimes things get

through to the good part of you that doesn't like the

tough part of you, and that's what just happened."

 

The servos rolled forward and tucked a blanket

around her. Simeon began to croon, directing it at her

ears where she hugged the blanket about her head and

only tufts of hair escaped.

 

"IwantCharma"

 

I can't hold her, Simeon thought But I can smg....

 

"Do you call me liar to my face, Aragiz?" Belazir said.

 

"My people were killed," Aragiz t'Varak replied.

"Security recorded Kolnari setting the trap, perhaps

thinking to throw the blame on scumvermin. I knew

scumvermin could notÑ"

 

"Do you give me the lie, t'Varak?"

 

The other captain stopped, torn between unwilling-

ness to retract and inability to attack. Belazir was under

no such constraints.

 

"Did it never occur to you, oh so straightforward

cousin, that it might be scumvermin posing as Clan?

That they are as capable of playing on our divisions as

we are on theirs?"

 

"You call me dupe of scumvermin?"

 

"I say that you bare me, Lord Captain Aragiz t'Varak.

You bore me beyond words, beyond bearing. Your

existence makes die universe a place of tedium beyond

belief!"

 

Aragiz's face relaxed, into a soft, welcoming smile.

"When?"

 

"When Lord Captain Pol t'Veng's judgement is ful-

filled. To the fist" Adeath-duel in die old manner, with

spiked steel gloves.

 

370

 

Anne McCaffrey W SM. Sorting

 

"And now," Belazir went on, "get your household

and all else to your ship." Quick suspicion marked the

other captain's face. "Yes, 1 know you were massing

your groundfighters. There is no time for feud here,

t'^rak. Believe me."    È

 

The screen blanked. Serig took a step forward, an

eyebrow raised.   ,

 

"Lord, he is the dolt you named rum. There is noth-

ing wrong with his reflexes, though."

 

"As it may be," Belazir said. "I spoke the truth. It

drives me to fury to have to call that one cousin, it truly

does." He shook his head. Today, we triumph, Serig.

By running, yes: but triumph nonetheless. So, we Ñ"

 

The dockside guards' chimes rang through the

bridge. "Great Lord, we have a scumvermin female,

claiming to have information for you."

 

Serig chuckled. There had been a fair number of

scumvermin females coming to the dock and asking for

Belazir. Some few he had taken himself, and passed the

others on to Serig or the crew.

 

"No, wait," Belazir said. "Information of what?"

 

"A conspiracy, involving the scumvermin leaders-

that-were and die prey-ship, lord."

 

"Send her up." Belazir looked at Serig and

shrugged. "Why not?"

 

Waiting was swift. "I would speak with you alone,

Master," the woman said, looking meaningfully at

Serig.

 

"I am generous to women," Belazir declared. Quite

true, or she would never have reached him. "So

generous I did not hear you, scumvermin."

 

She blinked and swallowed hard, looking from one

to the other.

 

"Why have you come?"

 

"The... they held me prisoner, Master and Gggg Ñ"

Even then, she could not quite bring herself to utter the

blasphemy. Then Belazir looked up at her, and she felt

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

371

 

herself huddle down behind the barrier of her skull,

knowing it was not enough. So a sicatooth looked at a

 

lamb.

 

"Ñ God," she completed, uncertain if it was the

obscene honorific they demanded or a prayer, "I... I

have information." She sfemmered, put a hand to her

face. / escaped, she thought They must be really conspir-

ing against her Ñ against Amos, as well. Holding her

from him. She whimpered slightly. She could remember

his words of love, the promises Ñ and nightmares of

rejection, of failure. The brass-colored eyes were waiting.

 

"I am Rachel bint Damscus. I am from Bethel. I was

on the ship that you were chasing. Forty of us survived

the journey and took refuge on this station."

 

Neither of the Kolnari moved or spoke.

 

"So ... you are from Bethel?" Belazir leaned his

head on his fist. One finger caressed his lower lip.

"Turn your head. Stand. Bend. Sit once more."

 

Belazir turned to Serig. "Possible," he said medita-

tively. "Similar scumvermin race, but there are many

varieties here."

 

"Unlikely, lord."

 

Belazir nodded. And in any case academic. They

were nearly ready to go. If they have deceived us, what mat-

ter'? The memory of his slap in the face of the Bride's

joss came back to him. Perhaps the old customs had

some real strength after all....

 

She stared at him. There was something odd about

her eyes, Belazir decided. Her lips trembled, and her

fingers, but not in terror; he could always identify that.

Some nerve disorder, perhaps? He leaned forward and

snuffed. Not a healthy scent.

 

"Yes." She nodded once, sharply. "Master and God."

 

"Why do you tell me this? Surely you know that it is

dangerous?"

 

The woman began to tremble with rage, and tears

filled her eyes.

 

372

 

Amu McCaffrey fcf S. M. Starting

 

"She ... that black-haired, black-hearted whore

seduced my betrothed! She promised him power! But

she lied. He plays the fool for her, does what she tells

him, sleeps in her bed ..." Her voice broke and she

stopped, swallowed a few times before she could speak

again. "Hie one you have been told is Simeon-Amos is

truly Amos, the leader who brought us here from

Bethel. The real Simeon is a shellperson, a thing they

call a brain, and he is still running this station."

 

"A... shellperson?" Belazir t'Marid dosed his eyes

for a moment "Ah! We have heard, but never seen."

 

Serig leaned down to him. "Lord, a sort of protein

computer, no? But our worm subverted their system

and holds it in our fist Would we not have known?"

 

"It would explain anomalies," Belazir said, chasing

the elements that made him believe the impossible

"And Ñ ah! I am as great a fool as Aragiz t'Varak!"

 

"Surely not, lord," Serig said, surprised. "Not on

your worst day. Not on my worst day. Not on the worst

day of this scumvermin womb here."

 

"I was about to dismiss this, time being short Dismiss

potentially the richest single piece of loot on the

station!"

 

"A shellperson is so much?"

 

"A strategic asset," Belazir said. "Come, we will look

into this. It is time, in any case."

 

He turned his eyes back to the scumvermin. From all

he could see, she was manic-depressive, swinging from

healthy, normal terror to an exalted state where she

had complete confidence in his interest, in his support

As if he were a player in her play...

 

"Mad," he said. "Yet... My vanity, perhaps, but little

Channahap plays the war game far too well. An

encysted brain, tied to great computers and their data

banks, though?" He cocked an eyebrow at Rachel.

 

"I can only tell you what I have heard," the woman

said, babbling in her desire to be believed. "I have been

 

ir

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

373

 

told that they are people who have been put into a

casing as infants and that they then become like a com-

puter." She wrung her hands and looked desperately

from one to the other. "I'm telling you the truth. They

are plotting against you. Master and God!"

 

Belazir smiled ii\poflte agreement "Of course they

are." On that, at least, they were agreed. He rose.

"Come, we will go and talk to them." He turned to

Serig. "Have Baila tell Channahap that I will see her in

her office. Tell her to have Simeon-Amos there as well."

 

Simeon spoke, interrupting Channa at her work sta-

tion. "Channa, Belazir t'Bastard is heading this way

with Rachel in tow. I don't know what's up, but he's

looking both grim and pleased."

 

Before Channa could speak, the comm chimed and

Baila's face appeared.

 

"Channahap," she said. "The Lord Captain t'Marid

is on his way to your office. You will await him there.

He commands the presence of Simeon-Amos. Obey."

The screen went dark.

 

"Shit" Channa said, and tapped her fingers

thoughtfully. "You're right, Simeon, this does not look

good. I am so sick of that girl. She's driving me... crazy.

Simeon?"

 

"You're right on the button about her state of mind,

Channa. Our Rachel's crazy, not just going crazy but

absolutely nuts, gonzo, a sandwich shy of a picnic,

packin' a short seabag..."

 

"Sim!"

 

"Right, I'll have Chaundra draw up a case history

about some kind of dementia. You brief Simeon-Amos,

111 spread the word."

 

"You got it. Simeon-Amos," she said over the inter-

com, "get in here."

 

"And Channa?"

 

"Yes?"

 

374

 

Ame McCaffny fc? SM. Stirling

 

"I think this is it. The battle platform just started

severing its stationside power leads. We've got a real

opportunity to hurt them hard if we can get Belazir out

of comm with his people. It could make the difference."

 

Channa nodded. She had bedn prepared to try an

assassination on the Bride, but that, at best, was

unlikely. Fear was remote: no time for it

 

"Simeon-Amos," she began, when he entered the

lounge. "Belazir's coming, with Rachel." His face froze.

"Here's what we're going to do Ñ no time for an

argument-"

 

The crates made gentle plopping noises as they slid

out of the meter-deep green water of the algae pools

and stood dripping on the slotted metal of the

walkways. Ships had a closed system of tubing and

enclosed tanks, but this arrangement Ñ open metal

rectangles stacked like trays Ñ was more efficient for a

station. The environment systems workers moved

quickly, without wasted effort or much talking. This

had not been a cheerful section since their chief

returned to them, but there was a stolid satisfection as

the vac-covers were peeled back and the weapons went

from hand to hand among the hundred or so tech-

nicians, office workers, and laborers.

 

Patsy Sue Coburn watched the needlers emerge,

brutal and compact. She slung one over her shoulder.

Ursinid weapons were submachinegun size for

humans. Then she reached into the pool and retrieved

her arc pistol, stripping off the plastic film.

 

"Wait for it," she whispered. If the Kolnari made one

last swing through on their usual routes, they'd be by

in half an hour or so.

 

The crew were crowding around the supervisors,

getting a quick lesson on how to use a needier to best

effect. Luckily, the weapons had simple controls: set the

dial on the side to the full clockwise position and take

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

375

 

up the trigger slack. Look down the barrel at the target

and pull the trigger. Line of sight weapons with little

recoil at short ranges, they should do well enough.

 

And they're all we've got, she reminded herself. She felt

completely calm. In a way, she had been calm since she

woke and saw Joan's face floating before her, like a

ghost's in its pool of light. There was a feeling under

that, a feeling that when she wasn't calm anymore, it

was going to be very, very bad.

 

"Reckon I kin wait fer it," she told herself.

 

The others were looking at her.

 

'Just wait 'n till they come around," she said patiendy

for the hundredth time. "Simeon'11 keep us all in touch."

I hope, /purely do. "Now, when they git here, you burn 'em

down. Then go down axial G-8 an' hit the bunch of'em

there. ArnosTl be by about then. If not him, then me."

 

She nodded curtly and slung the needier further

around to her back, freeing her hands for the climb up

the interval ladder. The entrance to the venting system

was where she would rendezvous with JoaL Not a dif-

ficult climb at first, since these were the biggest vents on

the station. The circle effaces fell away below her,

growing tiny amid the rectangular Escher shapes of

the ponds and the huge color-coded maze of pipes for

nutrient and water and waste.

 

Amos stood impassively behind Channa, hands

clasped at his back. They dropped to a knee as Belazir

entered. He took the seat before her desk, gestured to

Channa to sit. The squad of soldiers began to crowd

into the small office. The t'Marid snapped out an order

in his own language and all but two of them withdrew.

 

Rachel stood beside his chair. She glared at Channa

and then turned away, her fists clenched by her sides.

To Amos she smiled tremulously.

 

Definitely, as Sim would say, a few cans short of a sixpack,

Channa decided. She looks as if she's rescuing Am.

 

376

 

ArmeMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

 

Channa folded her hands in her lap. "Master and

God, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

 

Belazir smiled and indicated Rachel with his hand. "I

have been given some interesting information.*'

 

"1 have told him everything!" Rachel said spitefully.

 

Channa and Amos regarded her blankly, then shook

their heads and turned to Belazir.; ;

 

"Everything?" Channa asked.

 

"She has told me that she and forty others survived

the trip from Bethel, and that this man," he flicked his

chin at Amos, "is her betrothed. She tells me that he is

pretending to be Simeon and that the real Simeon is in

feet a brain in a container or some such thing, who is

running this station and the resistance to the High

Clan."

 

He folded his hands and regarded her calmly. "This

truth would solve certain difficulties,

 

Channa fought not to smile, making her eyes wide

with disbelief. Belazir studied her closely. Amusement

was not what he had anticipated.

 

"Simeon-Amos," she said at last, "please inform Doc-

tor Chaundra that Rachel has been found and ask him

to come and fetch her. Advise him that he may need

some form of chemical restraint."

 

Belazir raised an eyebrow.

 

Channa looked to the t'Marid for permission for

Amos to comply. Belazir flicked his fingers. Amos

nodded and went into his own office to make the call.

 

"She lies yet again, lord," Rachel said, but she fell

silent at a second flick of Belazir's hand.

 

Channa assumed an understanding expression.

"This young woman is deranged. We don't restrain her

because usually she is harmless and so are her fan-

tasies. A tragic case, very resistant to psychotherapy."

 

"Foul whore Ñ" Rachel began, urgently stepping

forward.

 

Belazir made a chopping motion with his hand. A

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

377

 

jruard stepped forward and Rachel shut her mouth

with an audible snap.

 

"Who is she, then?" he asked.

 

"We don't actually know," Channa said. "She was

abandoned here, apnarendy by some transient mer-

chanter. She had no I.D. No one came forward with any

information about her. The doctor isn't sure if her

insanity is the result of drugs or trauma. He says the only

way to be one hundred percent sure is to do an autopsy,

which obviously is out or the question. She's usually very

sweet, at worst a mild nuisance. Perhaps the condi-

tions ..." and Channa made a vague motion with her

hand to suggest that the occupation might have added to

her instability. Channa made herselflean back casually in

her chair, appearing at ease. "Perhaps it's a sign of

progress that she is this aware of, ah, current events,

Master and God. She must have concocted this fentasy

about Bethel from the newstapes, for example."

 

Rachel exploded. "She lies!" She lunged for Chan-

na, coming up with a jerk when the guard pulled her

back by her long hair. Her gorgon's mask of rage did

not even register the pain. She struggled briefly and

then subsided as Amos came back into the room.

"Amos," she pleaded, weeping, "help me!"

 

He looked at her with sympathy.

 

"Of course, I will help you, Rachel," he said. His

mellow voice rang with sincerity. "We all wish to help

you." He leaned close to Channa. "The doctor is on his

way, Ms. Hap."

 

"No!" Rachel screamed. "No! How can you do this to

me? She is using you, my love! Do not betray me!

Please ..." Tears began to leak down her long nose.

"Please... please."

 

Channa's stomach twisted. She is crazy. Probably

curably crazyÑmost were. Irritation faded before pity,

and pity faded before the threat of the Kolnari putting

any weight into Rachel's tale.

 

378

 

Amu McCaffrty 6? SM. StirUng

 

Amos' sympathy was achingly real

 

"There, there," he said soothingly. "You are ill,

Rachel. Daddy will call the doctor to make it right" He

offered the rag doll he was carrying. "You can have

Siminta with you." He pressed it infc> her hands.

 

For a moment Rachel's sobs stopped and she stared

at him in confusion. "What?" she: said. "You are my

betrothed, not myfatherl" She looked down at the doU,

then dashed it to the floor and stamped her foot "Stop

mocking me!"

 

Amos shifted uneasily. %cannot keep up with this.

May I be excused until Doctor Chaundra comes?"

 

"It might be best," Chaima said, addressing Belazir.

 

The t'Marid's eyes flicked over the three of them.

"Daddy?" he said dubiously, then quirked an involun-

tary smile.

 

Channa sighed. "Last week, she thought she was five

years old and Simeon-Amos was her father. She would

start to cry if he left the room. For some reason, she's

totally fixated on him. Chaundra supposes that he

resembles whoever dropped her on us. We don't

know."

 

"Lies!" Rachel shrieked. "Lies."

 

"The doctor should be here by now," Amos said,

clearly uncomfortable. He picked up the doll and

placed it carefully on a chair. "Ah ... she will grieve

later if it isn't there."

 

"You may go," Belazir said to him. His eyes never left

Channa's.

 

Chaundra strode in. He walked over to the weeping

girl and touched her shoulder gently. "Poor Rachel,"

he said soothingly, "poor little girl."

 

"Doctor," t'Marid said sharply. Chaundra turned

and stood very straight, looking down. "This is your

patient?"

 

"Yes, Master and God."

 

"I do not appreciate having my time wasted on the

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

379

 

daydreams of this madwoman. If she is so much as seen

again Ñ no, no point. You may go. Wait You have

records of her illness? I want to see them."

 

"Yes, Master and God, but I can't access them from

this computer. Medical records are on a dosed system

to protect the privacy Sf the patient"

 

Belazir made an impatient, dismissive gesture.

"Serig," he said. "See to it then back to the Bride, con-

tinue on the matter we were planning. I will join you

shortly." Serig bowed deeply.

 

"At your command, lord," he said, his teeth showing

slightly in cold amusement "The doll, too?"

 

Belazir snorted. "Go, insolence.

 

Rachel took a deep breath and seemed to fight for

dignity; the twitching lessened in her face. "They are

lying, Master and God, you will see. I am telling the

truth."

 

That ended in a squawk as Serig turned her about

and pushed between her shoulderblades. She ran to

avoid felling, and the door hissed open before her.

 

"Now," Belazir snarled. Chaundra followed.

 

In the strained silence that followed, Belazir and

Channa studied each other.

 

At last Belazir spoke. "Have your man return."

 

Channa pressed the intercom button, "Simeon-

Amos, would you come in here, please?"

 

"This Rachel is in love with you," t'Marid observed, a

hint of laughter in the yellow eyes.

 

"I confess," Amos said bitterly, "that I am beginning

to despise the very sight of her."

 

The Kolnari raised an eyebrow.

 

"One day," Channa informed him, "she became con-

vinced that Simeon-Amos was God and went around

the station trying to convert people to worshipping

him. She's been a very difficult experience for all of us,

but she's been a particular strain on Simeon-Amos."

 

"Simeon-Amos," Belazir said, "is rather obviously

 

380

 

Aime McCaffrey 6f 5M. Stating

 

the victim of a similar fixation on you, Channahap. A

strong reason to believe your tale."

 

"Yes, Master and God," Channa said. She dosed her

eyes. Simeon? she asked.

 

"He's halfway convinced, but still wyndering. Impatient.

Channa, it's starting. No more than twenty minutes until the

pirates'sound alarm."   _¥

 

She opened her eyes again. "Simeon-Amos," she

said. "Why don't you go see to the primary ware-

housing?"

 

He hesitated for a long second. "As you wish."

 

Now, Simeon commanded.

 

The worm raised its head from the ruins of the

castle, looking out across a plain of volcanic fumaroles

and blue-glowing lava. Flights of tongue-wasps

patrolled there and arcs of lightning jagged over crater

and canyon in patterned displays.

 

Thunder rumbled, A barking broke loose, louder

than the thunder, and the vault of heaven split. The

worm reared up, endless, longer than time, glutted

with its feeding.

 

Simeon burst through and new skies sprang above

the blasted landscape. The light changed from a pitiless

white to the softer yellow of sunshine. The wasps fell,

twitched, died. Three-headed and elephant-sized, the

dog paced beside him. He raised the bat, struck.

 

The Grinder lunged and the concentric mouths

damped on the end of the weapon. Then it recoiled, as

the wood turned to a hoop and expanded, thrusting

the rows of teeth back. It tried to shake loose, but the

dog's three heads pinned its body to the earth. Wider

and wider the glowing green circle swelled, until the

mouths were a doorway.

 

A scalpel and icepick appeared in Simeon's hands. He

walked into the worm's mouths and raised the tools.

 

"Heeeeeeere's Sim!1* he shouted. "Openuwfe."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

381

 

On the auxiliary command deck of the SSS-900-C,

the Kolnari tech was reaching for the rear casing of the

batde computer when he noticed die telltales.

 

"Lord!" he cried. "TheÑ"

 

At that instant, the se^-destruct charge built into the

base of the computer detonated. It was not much in the

way of an explosion, but much more than was required

to destroy the sensitive inner workings. The designer

had intended that to foil tampering. However, the flat-

tened disk of jagged housing was more than enough to

decapitate the pirate.

 

His companion reacted with tiger precision, scoop-

ing up his weapon and leaping for the doors. They

clashed shut with a snap, and the warrior rebounded

into the control chamber. It was empty save for him

and there was no other exit. He pivoted, holding down

the trigger of his plasma rifle and firing from the hip

into the consoles.

 

"Naughty," a voice from the air said. The vents

began to hiss. Trie Kolnari staggered at the first touch

of the gas. His last act was to strip a grenade from his

belt and trigger it, carefully held next to his own head.

 

"Damn," Simeon muttered. The mess was considerable

and the equipment wasn't going to be much use for a

while. Then he took the equivalent of a deep breath and

concentrated. Several dozen things must be done at once.

 

"Let me up," Channa said, stroking Belazir's back.

 

"Not for a while yet," Belazir said lazily. "I have has-

tened as it is. There is another five minutes available."

His body was dry against her sweat-slick one, but much

warmer, with the higher metabolism of his breed.

 

"Are we staying, then?" she breathed against his ear.

 

"No," he replied. "You suspected?"

 

"That you'd take me with you, or that today would

be the day to go? Both." She wiggled.

have to get some stuff."

 

382

 

Arms McCaffny & SM. Stating

 

"I shall keep you well," Belazir said, then rolled away

off her. "Be swift."

 

He lay idly on the sofa, watching her disappear into

the bedroom. Memorable, he decided. Starling with her

skinning out of her clothes the moment they were

alone. Anticipation is the best garnish! The Kolnari con-

sulted his interior timesense:, twenty minutes,

unusually swift. Well within the day's schedule, too. He

grinned to himself, stretching and tossing back strands

of white-blond hair. Tomorrow stretched out before

him in a road of fire and blood and gold.

 

"We are close to Channa's quarters?" Joseph asked.

 

They were leopard-crawling down the ductway; an

action that was hard for one of his shoulder-breadth.

Behind them Patsy was having less of a problem, since

much of her volume was compressible.

 

"Yeah ..." Joat paused. "I haven't actually been this

way, y'know. I was trying to hide from Simeon." A

pause. "We're right over the main corridor to the

elevator shaft. I think."

 

"I think I had better check," Joseph said, with a tight

smile. "Are you all right, Joat-my-friend?"

 

"Yeah." She threw a smile back at him. "Just... I got

a little shook, is all. I'm fine."

 

She touched the junction node and her jacker. The

membrane beneath them turned transparent.

Chaundra did not look up. Instead, he glanced behind

him, shook his head, moved on.

 

Joat crawled past, then froze as two more figures

came beneath. Rachel was running, but Serig caught

her easily in one hand, pushed her against the corridor

wall. She screamed, breathy and catching in her throat,

like someone awakening from one nightmare into

another.

 

"Don't do it, Joe, he'll kill you!" Joat cried sotto voce,

lunging for the Bethelite's belt She missed and knew it

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

383

 

would have done no good. Her hand could never have

deflected the solid charging weight of the man. He was

through the space and dropping to the deck before she

could finish the sentence. His knives were in his hands:

one long and thin, the other short and curved.

 

The Kolnari had his nand back to cuff Rachel again

as she screamed a second time, hopelessly.

 

"Pirate," a voice behind them said.

 

The warrior threw her aside as easily as he might a

sack of wool, and she thudded into the corridor watt.

The same motion turned into a whirling slash with one

bladed palm, a blow that would have cracked solid

teakwood. Joseph was not in its path, but the long knife

in his right hand was. The yellow eyes slitted in pain

and a broad streak of blood arched out to spatter

against the cream of the sidewall and flow sluggishly

down. The Clan fighter leaped back half a dozen paces,

out of reach of the blades, but also farther from the dis-

carded equipment belt. He was naked and unarmed,

and the slash in his forearm was bone-deep. He dared

not even squeeze it shut with his other hand. The raw

salt-copper smell of blood was strong as the wound

began to ooze more sluggishly. Superfast clotting

would save him... if he did not exert himself,

 

"Come to me, pirate," Joseph said softly. "Come, see

how we fought in Keriss, on the docks."

 

The Kolnari snarled and leaped to one side, flipped in

midair and bounced off the upper wall. He was a

hundred-kilo blur of muscle and bone snapping at

Joseph behind a clenched fist Huddled against the wall,

Rachel gave a whimper of despair, but Joseph was not

there anymore. Anticipating such a tactic, he had thrown

himself down on his back. Both knives were up. The

pirate jackknifed in midair, but when he rolled erect,

there were two more long slashes across his chest

 

His grin was a snarl of pain as he slid forward. The

long wounds were orange, the Tunneling blood a

 

384

 

Anne McCaffny fc? 5M. Stirling

 

shocking deep umber against his raven-black skin. He

held his arms up: one in a knuckled fist, the other open

in a stiffened blade.

 

"Come," Joseph whispered. Rachel blinked back to

full consciousness and the sight of his face chilled her.

"Come to me, yes, come."

 

The knives glinted in either hand, splashed

orangey-red now, the edges glinting in the soft

glowlight as they moved in small, precise circles.

 

What followed was a whirling blur. It ended with one

knife flying loose and Joseph crumpling back, curled

around his side. The other knife still shone in defiance.

The Kolnari warrior staggered and shivered for a

moment, then drew back his foot for the final blow. Rachel

flung herself forward, grasping blindly. Her arms dosed

around the poised leg. It was like gripping a tree, no, a

piece of steel machinery that hammered her aside like

some giant piston-rod. But blood loss and the unexpected

weight threw the pirate off-balance. He staggered forward

into Joseph. For a moment they stood chest-to-chest, like

embracing brothers. Long-fingered black hands clamped

down on Joseph's shoulders, ready to tear the muscles of

his bull-neck free by main force.

 

Then she saw die Bethelite's left arm moving. The

right hung limp, but the left was pressed against the

Kolnari's side. There was something in it. A knife-hilt,

and the blade was buried up to the guard; the curved

blade of theszca, whose density-enhanced edge would

carve steel. It slid through ribs as the pirate's killing grip

turned to a frantic push that arched him like a bow.

 

The two men had fought in silence, save for the

panting rasp of their breath. Now the Kolnari

screamed, as much in frustration as in final agony. The

cry dissolved in a spray of blood as the diamond-hard

sica's edge sawed open his ribcage and ground to a halt

halfway through his breastbone. He flopped to the

ground, voided, and died. Joseph wrenched his knife

 

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

 

585

 

free and stooped. He forced his right hand to action,

gripped the dead pirate's genitals, severed them with a

slash. Then he stuffed them into the gaping mouth of

the corpse and spat in the dead eyes, still open like

fading amber jewels.

 

Blood. Rachel wipeS at her mouth, suddenly con-

scious of the blooct: in her mouth, her hair, over her

body, spattered on corridor walls and ceiling, dimming

the glowstrips, more blood than she had ever imagined

could be. Joseph was coated with it, his eyes staring out

of a mask ofblood, his teeth red.

 

She stared at the mutilated corpse. "Serig," she said.

"His name was Serig."

 

"A dead dog's name dies on the dungheap," Joseph

said in a snarl. Then he turned to her and his eyes were

alive once more. He bowed, checked himself with a

sharp gasp, then completed the gesture. "My lady, are

you hurt?'1 he inquired solicitously.

 

His face, for once, was naked. Rachel gasped and

swayed, looking down at the body and then at the man

she had despised.

 

"Joseph!" she cried, clutching at his arm. "I..."

Reality whirled, splintered, as if a glass surface between

her and her thoughts had shattered. "Joseph," she said

more softly, wonderingly. "Something has happened to

me. I... I remember things that cannot be. I Ñ" she

blushed "Ñ I remember being so cruel to you, so

vicious. And, and I Ñ" she looked up at him, shaking

her head in denial even as she whispered in growing

horror "Ñ betrayed Amos to the Roman?"

 

He touched her cheek, a feather soft caress. "Lady,

you have been ill. You were poisoned by the coldsleep

drugs that we took. It is not your fault"

 

"Oh," she said, "oh," and threw herself into his arms,

weeping. "Please forgive me," she pleaded, "I am

unworthy, I am foul, but I beg you, Joseph, do not

despise me. Do not leave me."

 

386

 

Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. StMing

 

"I could never despise my lady," he said simply. He

extended a hand which she grasped, though the

fingers were slippery with death.

 

"Come, we have little time," he said. "We must get

you to a place of safety, and I have much work to do this

day." *

 

"Then let us hasten, Joseph," she replied.

 

Joat and Patsy dropped down, halting at the sight of

the body. They scanned the hall tensely, then edged

nearer. Joat looked at it out,of the corner of her eyes,

but the older woman stared hungrily.

 

The arc pistol rose, then fell helplessly.

 

"It's him," she whispered. "It's him. And it's been

done!" Her tone was aggrieved, indignant.

 

Joat moved up beside her. Boy, is he ever done, she

thought with her newfound squeamishness, and tried

to ignore the smell. This skudgesueker worked up an awful

lot of mad against himself. It was not that she regretted his

death, just...

 

"Sorry it wasn't you?" she said, looking up at her

companion.

 

For the first time since her rape, Patsy Sue Coburn

was weeping.

 

"No," she said, her voice thick. "No, I'm not sorry.

Not sorry he's dead, not sorry it wasn't me. Jist glad this

dawg will never hurt nobody agin. I... won't have to

remember doing it, now."

 

"Yeah, that's right," Joat said desolately, slamming the

doors of memory firmly shut "C'mon, we got work to do."

 

They turned to Joseph and Rachel. "Let's boost her

up," Joat continued. "Axial up one ought to be safe

enough to stash her. Then we can get on with it"

 

"Simeon?" Channa said softly. "You back?"

"Part of me." His voice sounded dim, although the

implant's volume was always the same. "I'm dancing

 

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

 

387

 

on a sawblade, keeping their communications down

and fighting off their ships' computers. Can't keep

them out of touch forever." More sharply. "You all

 

right?"

"You want to know^" she said, dressing with calm

 

haste.      <

 

"Yeah."

 

"It was annoying as hell... and sort of strenuous." A

moment's urchin grin. "And to tell the truth, I'd have

been forever curious if I hadn't What I'd like" she said

as she finished sealing her overall to the neck, "is to see

his face when he realizes I'm not coming back through

that door."

 

"I'll record it."

 

"And don't tell Amos."

 

A section of the ceiling paneling turned translucent

and slid back. Joat's face showed through and then her

body somersaulted down.

 

"There's a crawlspace we c'n get into now that leads

to a bunch of air-ducts and electric-conduits. Come on."

 

Channa examined the hatch in the ceiling and

smiled wryly. 'Just like in a holovid," she murmured.

 

Joat grinned. "Yeah, only a lot smaller." She looked

anxiously at Channa's lean length. "You may find it a

squeeze. Had to leave the others back a ways. Do you

nurdly when you're cramped?"

 

"Is there a choice?" Channa said.

 

"Then you don't. Push yourself along with your

hands and toes. Don't try to use your knees or you'll

eventually black out from the pain."

 

"Do you speak as one who knows?"

 

"Uh-huh, I've seen it happen. Give me a boost?"

 

Channa braced, cupped her hands, lifted Joat

towards the ceiling hatch.

 

"Ready." Joat's voice came down, sounding a little

hollow.

 

"Stand back." Channa crouched down and sprang

 

388

 

Anrte McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

 

upwards, catching the sides of the hole and pulling

herself straight up, arms trembling with the strain.

 

The crawlspace was narrow and cramped and con-

fining. She had to breathe and move in different

motions. It was wonderful     &

 

CHAplfalTWENTYTWO

 

"Okay," Florian Gusky croaked. "Go." He coughed,

his lungs and throat a mass of pain and fire. The air sys-

tem had_not been designed to be occupied for

two-week stays. "Go, you bastards."

 

Eight tugs and the mining scout In Your Dreams

brought up their systems. There had been ten tugs,

but Lowbau and Wong hadn't been answering on

tightbeam for four days. If something had gone wrong

with their life-support, neither of them had made a

sound while it happened, accepting death in the

silence of their powered-down ships, alone in the dark.

 

"Comin' home," Gus whispered.

 

The tugs had drifted with the other debris that clut-

tered the vicinity of the station. He gave silent thanks

for the fact that Simeon had never been a neat

housekeeper. More that Channa hadn't had time to

reform him before the trouble struck. Now the ener-

gies of their drives painted half of heaven. Acceleration

pushed him back into the padding, beyond what the

compensators could handle. The screen ahead of him

was a holo-driven schematic, with his target and

approach vector marked off as a box, and the tug a blip

that had to be kept inside it. Easy work for a military

craft, but these tugs were designed for hard slow pulls,

not whipping around. Nothing else mattered but the

vector, and the load of scrap and ore trailing behind

him. Through his body the drives hummed, pushed

past all prudence and all hope.

 

His mind found time to note the bright spark that was a

 

390

 

Arme McCaffny&SM Stirling

 

tuggoing up , a pulse from the engine detonation and then

the brighterflash of the destabilized powerplant

 

"Well, that ought to let 'em know we're here,** he

muttered. Whiskers rasped against the feeding nozzle

and the mike as his head movedfai the helmet. He

knew his face must look neither sane nor pleasant The

tug surged as he corrected. Tfee station filled a

sidescreen, and the bristling saucer shape of the Kol-

nari battle platform docked to its north polar tube, like

some monstrous tick swelling with blood.

 

"You're mme,"Gusshouted past cracked lips. '

 

Simeon stood in the passageway. Rock rumbled

around him, the bomb exploded away from a spot

above, chips stinging his eyes and going spang off his

armor. The long head that battered through was scaled

in sapphire and had eyes set all about it, in a bone rill

that turned to spikes. The muzzle split four ways, and

each segment was lined with fangs. The tongue

between was a metal-tipped spear ready to strike.

 

He struck first, grabbing it in an armored gaundet

and hauling back before the quadruple jaws could

slam shut When they did, it was on their own tongue.

A high whine of pain drove needles into Simeon's ears.

He kept his grip on the lashing end, whipped it three

times around the muzzle and tied a quick slip-knot.

Then he stood back and took a double-handed grip on

his glowing baseball bat. Thwak. The guardian pro-

gram shivered, slumped, dissolved into metallic

fragments that scurried back and forth disorganized,

then decayed instantly into floating bytes.

 

"Next," he said, walking forward toward the iron-

strapped door, which wasprobably the entrance to the

CPU. "Geeze, I've got to patent this AI interface," he

said, taking stance again. "It's Ñ

 

Boom. Oak splintered, wrought iron bent and

shrieked.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

391

 

"Ñ fordlin' Ñ "

Boom.

 

The commander of the High Clan batde platform

Skull Crusher pivoted on one heel. The big circular room

was half-empty; the liberty parties were only now

returning.

 

"What?" he barked at the info-systems watch-officer.

Not now. He was scheduled to undock and begin transit

first, to be there when the transports came in for ren-

dezvous with the rest of the High Clan. Just in case, but

the weight of the responsibility was heavy, and this was

his first independent command.

 

"Lord, our system is under attack!"

 

"The worm program?" Chindik t'Marid was a

specialist in those. He had designed the standard Clan

attack worm himself. He was also a game designer of

note, although that was merely a hobby.

 

"No," the tech said. His fingers were dancing over

his board. "Something's just smashing its way in."

 

"Aside." Chindik called up a graphic. He whisded

silently. Something with enormous computational

power was battering at the defenses with tremendous

force, trying all the solutions. There was no indication

of realspace location. His computers were spending all

their capacity just keeping the enemy out. But since

there was only one enemy installation in sight Ñ

 

"Cut the cable feeds to the station," he said. "Batde

alert to all other vessels.1*

 

"I can't cut the feeds," the tech said. "The retractors

won't answer. Neither do the landline comms to the

rest of the flotilla."

 

"Well, then Ñ " Chindik began. Another cry stopped

him.

 

"Detection," the sensor operator said. "Multiple

 

392

 

AnneMcCaffrey &f SJM. Stfrfmg-

 

detection. Powerplant signatures. Close, lord, dose.

Approaching."

 

"Attack vectors," the tactical computer announced.

"Vessel is under attack.*1

 

"Those aren't warships," Chindjk said in astonished

dismay as he read the screen. His head whipped back

and forth, reflex in a creature attacked from all sides.

Then he straightened, strode back to the commander's

station, and sank into the couch.

 

"Combat alert," he said. The chimes began to sound,

wild and sweet. "Battlestarions. Deploy short-range

energy weapons. Fire on any of those ... gnats as the

weapons bear. Gantry?"

 

"Lord?" The dockside guards were looking away

from the pickup. "Lord, we hear Ñ"

 

"Silence! Send parties through the sidelock and blow

the feeds connecting us to the scumvermin hulk."

 

"Lord?"

 

"Obey!"

 

The guards scattered like mercury struck with a

hammer.

 

"Blast-broadcast," Chindik said. "Five-minute sig-

nal, all crew rally to the Crusher. Then undock."

 

"Lord, I've been trying to activate the decoupling pro-

cedure." The bridge was filling as the standby crew ran in

and slid into their stations. "My telltales say it is working,

but the visual scanner shows no activity."

 

"Send a party from engineering to dog it manually.

Engines, prepare to maneuver."

 

"Lord, we're still physically linked."

 

"I know. We'll rip loose, and take the damage.

Estimate."

 

"Six minutes to readiness, lord."

 

The weapons team were working in a blur of trained

unison. "Enemy dosing. Velocities follow. Preparing to

engage ... Lord, we need maneuvering room! They

are too close for interceptor missiles."

 

THE Cm- WHO FOUGHT

 

393

 

"Make it three minutes, Engines." He turned back to

the communications console. "Get me the commanderr

 

"Down two decks, use the emergency shaft. Down

two decks, use the emergency shaft."

 

Simeon's voice rang through the corridor. All up and

down it, the doors of the residential apartments were

opening. Stationers came out, First singly, then in

groups, in scores. They ran past the working party at

the corridor junction, grabbed whatever shapes were

thrust into their hands: needlers, industrial torches,

bundles of blasting explosive with fuses cobbled

together out of calculators, handlights and spare

consumer-goods chips. Their faces were set and tight,

or grinning, or snarling wordlessly.

 

Simeon broke off another fragment of attention as

Amos came up.

 

"Channa?" the Bethelite asked. Then, as she moved

into sight from behind Joseph, he cried in relief. "Chan-

nar They had time for a single swift hug.

 

His eye widened slightly as he saw Joseph's body

splashed with drying blood from knees to neck.

 

"Mostly not my own, Brother," Joseph said grinning.

 

"You are hurt."

 

"Cracked rib. It is nothing."

 

Amos nodded briskly. "So for, they are surprised," he

said to Channa. "But that will not last." The fabric of

the station quivered beneath their feet.

 

Belazir t'Marid stepped back from the door. The

frame of the chair was bent in his hands, but only

gouges showed on the surface. He dropped the shat-

tered mass and looked around, his eyes narrowed.

 

fool, he thought, and suppressed anger. There

would be time for recriminations later. Perhaps... He

retrieved his equipment belt and extracted the univer-

sal microtool. There had to be a connecting line

 

394

 

AntuMcCaffny fef SM. Stating

 

somewhere around the entranceway. He cast a glance

over his shoulder at the titanium pillar that had been

beneath the tapestries.

 

"You will pay for this, my friend," he said. "For a very

longtime."  £.

 

"Eat shit and die, Master and God," Simeon replied.

God, that felt good. I've been waiting to say that. "You

screwed the pooch. You did the doo-doo, big. Ifou've

got a place in the next edition ofFrom the Jaws of Victory*

 

Belazir turned away with a smile and a shrug, going

to work on the exterior access panel.

 

"Can you feel pain?" he said as he began slicing it open

with the short-range cutting laser in the tool "I hope so.

Very much." He deployed die hair-thin probe.

 

And I was playing below my level on the war

games," Simeon added.

 

"Barricade at the next junction, lord."

 

The groundfighter's voice sounded in her head-

phones. Pol t'Veng filed it with the other voices filling

her helmet, squeezing at them with the force of her will

until they began to assume some pattern.

 

Takiz," she said to her second. He looked around from

the six power-armored figures at the junction. Just ahead

the corridor had been wrecked by a satchel-charge; the

tangle of walls, tubing and die remains of the floating gun

was still white-hoL Two of the suited Koinari forced their

way into the narrow place and began to straighten. Metal

screamed as it was deformed again. Hot gases pooled

around them and the remains of die gun-crew.

 

"Takiz, when we're through here, take four and

make another attempt at Lord Belazir's last location.

Maximum effort."

 

That translated as "Bring him or don't come back."

 

"I hear and obey, Lord Pol."

 

"Lord Pol, we have a cleared line to the main axial

corridor."

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

395

 

"Good," she said. Good news, the first since this

started. "Reports."

 

"Fightingon all the docking levels, Lord. Data follows."

 

It did; also pickup views. One for only a second; the

view from a powersqit as its wearer backed into the

open port of a Clan transport. Stationers were firing

from behind barricades of machinery and crates in the

open space beyond. The lights were out and the view

had the glassy look of light-enhancement. Softsuited

crewfolk ran past the groundfighter. His plasma rifle

snapped again and a makeshift breastwork exploded

along with the bodies of the scumvermin behind it-

Then all the telltales that ran below the visual flashed

red. Not good news for the occupant of that suit, since

the internal temperature was now over two hundred

degrees. The scene began to fog just as she could make

out a bundle of plastic bricks wired together arcing

toward the airlock. Then it cut out abruptly.

 

Bad. That was one vessel that would be undocking

with extreme difficulty. She projected a schematic on

the corridor wall and studied it as the information

flowed in. More bad news, but at least she had a pic-

ture.

 

"General transmission," she said. "Lord Pol t'Veng,

assuming command in the absence of Lord Belazir.

Crews, report to nearest vessel. Those near the

exterior, blow your way out of the pressure hull and

EVA to the nearest vessel."

 

Many of them would be suited, and emergency

dingmasks Ñ films that protected the face somewhat,

with a miniaturized recycler Ñ were standard issue.

For that matter, Koinari could endure about four

minutes of vacuum if trained and prepared.

 

"We retreat?" someone asked, shocked.

 

"No, fool!" she said. The speaker was an officer with

an intact company ranged behind him. It was worth

the time to answer as she might herself fall, in which

 

396

 

AnneMeCaffny&SJU. Stirling

 

case he would need the information. "Look!" She

downloaded her appraisal. "They fight to keep us

here. We fight for fighting room. We have completed our

mission."

 

"I hear and obey, lord."      &

 

"You had better," she muttered to herself Now that

the blockage had been cleared, more Kolnari were

gathering in the cross-corridors.

 

"We fight our way through to the axial corridor," she

said. "You, Dittrek. Is that barricade still holding?"

 

"Yes, lord. I do not have enough men to rush it again."

 

"Blow through the access walls to either side of your

position," she said. "Then blow through the connect-

ing partitions and flank them. Quickly."

 

"Lord."

 

She turned to the others. "To the docksÑfollow me!"

 

"Now!" Gus muttered to himself. The computer did

the actual release. The tug released its grapnel field

and applied lateral thrust, just enough to swing him

wide of the station itself.

 

He removed his hands from the controls and

slapped the main power switch; the safest thing to do,

now. There were a lot of high-velocity debris around

... including the wrecks of the other tugs. He felt a

curious peace, almost as if he could sleep.

 

"Lord, we boost," the engine comm of Heart Crusher

said. At the same moment, the weapons console gave a

cry of fury.

 

"Kinetic slugs inbound. Prepare for impact. Inner

defense batteries on auto."

 

"Full maneuver power. Boosting."

 

Chindik t'Marid prayed silently to the platform

joss, making reckless promises. The big vessel

lurched and rending sounds echoed through the

fabric of its hull as the jammed connectors tore out,

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

397

 

like roots parting in the earth. The most effective

weapons were on the underside, and that was still

pointed towards the SSS-900-C. There was nothing

he could do, anyone could do, except the AI systems

handling the close-in cjefense Ñ something beyond

even Kolnari reflexes.

 

Sprays of trajectory crossed on the screens. Absently

he noted the second to last attacking vessel taking a

beam. An irrelevancy now, after the huge scatter of

high-velocity projectiles had been loosed against bis

command. The slew of dots diminished, as the beams

swept, more and more with each second as the stubby

disk turned its teeth toward the sky.

 

Tinngggggg. Timtggggg. He waited, tense. No more

contact. The rest of the incoming flotsam had been

stopped, or missed, or struck the station instead.

 

"Damage control!"

 

A few lights were strobing from green to amber to

red. The engines screen came on.

 

"Lord... the exciter coils for the FTL were hit"

 

"How long?"

 

"A week, lord. It is a dockyard job." The Roman on

the bridge exchanged looks. They had just heard news

of their deaths.

 

"You," Chindik snapped to a backup crewman.

"Take that Ñ" he indicated the joss "Ñ and space it"

 

"We have Lord Pol, lord."

 

The doors hissed open. Belazir jumped back with a

yell as the plasma rifle leveled.

 

"Lord!" The man seemed ready to weep with relie£

Belazir ignored him, diving for the empty suit that fol-

lowed behind the warrior. For a wonder, it was his own,

 

"Where is Serig?" Belazir barked. He had expected

him to be here, or taking command. Matters should

not have got so far out of hand.

 

With the door open, the smells and sounds of combat

 

398

 

Amu McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

 

were obvious: deep toning sounds as explosions tore at the

fabric of the station, far offchuddering ofbeam weapons,

the stink of hot metal and ozone. Belazir folded the suit

around him, leaving the catheters for later. If I have to piss

down my leg, so be it. It came alive wi|b a jerk, and he flexed

the servo-powered limbs and gauntlets with exultation.

 

"Lord Serig is dead, Great Ijord. Lord Pol com-

mands. We have a link.**

 

The news staggered Belazir for a moment. Serig

dead? Then he damped the helmet. "Lord Pol?"

 

"Here! Report follows."-Mosdy disaster. "They came

at us out of the walls, must have been hiding there since

the occupation began."

Belazir nodded jerkily.

 

"We hold the ships," Pol said crisply. "Except for one

transport that has, incredibly, been overrun. They

attack the docks and encircle pockets of our troops."

 

"Continue consolidating the pockets and punch

through to the ships," he said. "Status?"

 

"Heart Crusher is free but her FTL is down," Pol said.

"My Shark is also disengaged and I am not bringing her

back. Half the transports are moving, but some with

heavy damage. Dreadful Bride has nearly full crew, plus

personnel from others, and is in control of her docking

area and ready to boost."

"Age of Darkness?"

 

"Still not even answering her comm," Pol said, her

voice taking on emotion for the first time. "My

youngest daughter against a used wiperag. Her

outer info was penetrated and they did not even,"

she spat the word, "notice."

 

"No wager," Belazir said. He reached back over his

shoulder and swung the punchgun rack down. It click-

ed into its rest along his right arm. The aiming bars lit

on his faceplate as he turned and cycled for sonic and

IR scan on the pillar that held the brain. Ahhh, yes. There

is the interior structure, and the access hatchway. "You may

 

THE crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

399

 

assume tactical command from the Age of Darkness,

Lord Pol, once you reach it. I will follow to the Bride.

There is a matter to attend to here."

 

"Through there," Amos said. He pointed to two

broken access door* across the circular open space.

Most of it had been covered with kiosks, stores, res-

taurants and other structures until an hour ago. Now

those were smoldering ruins, scattered among that

were the bodies and the wreckage of the servomechs

the stationers had used as their first wave. "They are

back from the entrance on the second to the right*1

 

"We'll go through subaxial E-9 and punch across,"

Keri Holen replied. "That's one of the hidden sections."

 

She turned to her squad, a mix of station repair

people with their working tools and ordinary civilians

armed with whatever.

 

"C'mon, scumvermin," she said. "Let's go show the

lords what we think of em. Follow me."

 

"How are we doing?" Channa said beside Amos,

bobbing up and loosing a burst with her needier.

Covering fire from all the stationers lashed out at the

exit shafts as the assault team dodged forward. The

barricade ahead of them was corytium, brought in by

the handler servos, and plasma rounds had splashed

off the front, or welded the ingots together and made

the barrier stronger. They still had to expose them-

selves to shoot, if only in a crevice between two ingots.

 

Amos ducked down with her as another series of

bolts hit the metal. They could feel the barricade shud-

der and tone. The inner layer was barely warm, but the

temperature above flash-heated enough to make their

skins tingle. The stink of hot corycium made them

cough, and Channa thought how worried she would

have been in ordinary times; the fumes were not

healthy. Then the whole station shuddered, and the

gravity fluxed sufficiently to be noticeable.

 

400

 

Awne McCaffrey & SM Stating

 

Nothing like a plasma bolt to give you a sense ofperspective,

she thought.

 

"Not doing too wefl, my darling," Amos said absently. A

team from the Perimeter Restaurant was crawling from

person to person with bags of sandwiches and juice.

More of the restaurant's people were back two junctions,

running a triage station under the direction of one of

Chaundra's meditechs. "TTiey are using the battle plat-

form and the warship for fire support from outside, and

we cannot stop them uniting their scattered groups. The

groups that survived, thatjs." He sighed and smiled at

her through the black smudges of powdered metal. "I

cannot think of finer company than yours to travel to

God with, Channa Hap," he said.

 

"I'm glad, too," she said. "Sorry it was this way, butgiad."

He reached out to touch her shoulder. Then her face

went glarid. For a moment he feared she had been hit,

before he recognized the expression. She was com-

muning with Simeon. Her throat worked. "Amos!" she

burst out "They're taking Simeon out of his column!"

 

The Bethelite paled. Without their all-seeing com-

mander and chief of general staff, the station was

doomed, and quickly. Channa turned and began to

leopard-crawl backward. He grabbed for her ankle.

"There is nothing you can do," he hissed

"I'm his brawn! I have to!" she cried, and kicked free.

Amos looked after her and cursed.

 

'Joseph!'1 he said. "We have to retake main axial, at

least for a moment Ñ along the path to the central

command. Take Ñ"

 

The final lead connecting Simeon to the station came

free. No\ Simeon cried into the darkness. The self-

destruct had been left too late. The Navy had not come,

and the enemy were breaking free. When they had

him on board, the station would die.

 

He had nothing now, nothing but the single pickup

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

401

 

and audio circuit that were part of his inner shell. Life

support was on the backups. It would keep his nutrient

feeds going for days ... but a single hand could switch

him into total darkness, utter isolation. Madness, death

without the mercy of oblivion. No!

 

Belazir was still visible, leaning over the shell. He

lifted off his helmet'with both hands, looming over

the pickup to smile whitely. The shell surged as

the powersuited warriors bent carefully and lifted,

the huge weight coming up slowly as their

armor whined in protest. There was a slight klinking

sound as the helmet rested on the upper face of the

shell itself.

 

"So that you should have my face for your last sight,"

the Kolnari chieftain said, reaching for the keypad on

the shell exterior. "When you see again, you will call

me Master and God . . . and you will mom it." He

touched a finger to the control. "Beg, Simeon."

 

"Eat shit and far

 

The Kolnari chuckled. "Not good enough," he said,

and pressed the stud.

 

The doors to Channa's room slapped open. Channa

stepped through, needier at the ready. Belazir could

feel the aimpoint on his forehead.

 

"You wanted me again, Belazir?" she said. "Better

late than never. Here I am." A slight movement wag-

gled the muzzle. "This is set on spray. It's quite fetal.

Now, away from the shell, please."

 

Belazir smiled at her. What a woman! he thought. /

will beat her, but not too badly. "There are three of us," he

said, shifting slightly. Although unfortunately I have my

helmet off and these two are immobilized by the load they carry,

he added to himself. "We are in armor. You can scarcely

expect to frighten us with that toy alone."

 

Patsy Sue Coburn followed her friend out of the

quarters, leveling her arc pistol. A red burn-mark

welted one cheek, bleeding knees and elbows showed

 

402

 

Anw McCaffrey &? S M. Stirling

 

through the holes worn in her coverall, but there was

real pleasure in her smile.

 

"Life's full a' surprises, ain't it?" she said as Belazir

snarled silently. "Real bitch sometimes, too."

 

Channa tossed her head in a vain attempt to get the

sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes.

 

"Yes," she said evenly, "I do expect to frighten you.

Now, replace the shell in the main column cradle and

reconnect it. Then, all of you, throw your helmets aside

and move over there." She gestured towards the door

to Amos' quarters. "I expect your pirates will trade a

good deal for you."

 

"And keep your hands up," snapped a voice from

above.

 

Kolnari heads turned to the opening in the ceiling. A

head and arms protruded, far too small for an adult of

their bigboned race, but the muzzle of the plasma rifle

was held steadily in those slight arms. The weapon

looked absurdly large for the person who controlled it,

but it was braced against the interior wall and the lip of

the hole, and he could see the aimpoint, a red dot that

wavered over the three pirates.

 

"Up," the child repeated, lifting the muzzle of the

weapon for emphasis.

 

Belazir's mind computed the angles. Good. My left

hand is not irisible, he thought

 

"You leave us little choice," he said aloud. Which was

true; honor aside, he had no choice at all. Pol t'Veng or

any other Kolnari noble would cheerfully let Father

Chalku or their own sires be flayed alive rather than

disgrace them by paying ransom, much less do so for

him. He would rather be flayed than live on those terms

himself

 

"Move the shell," he said to the two troopers. "It's

only three paces."

 

He raised his gauntleted hands, dosing his eyes and

flagging positions. The deck boomed like a drum as the

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

403

 

pirate groundfighters moved a pace in lockstep

unison, the ton weights of their suits added to triple

that of titanium and machinery ... and the few kilos of

a body that had never seen the light of day.

 

Three, he counted and dropped the flash grenade.

Before it hit the shell, hft was leaping backwards, and so

were the two other Clan warriors. He squeezed his eyes

tight and willed his pupils shut, but even so the flash

was dazzling. He hit the doorframe going out, went

flat, scrabbled the helmet he had snatched onto his

head. The plasma rifle had crashed simultaneous with

the grenade. A brief scream and the smell from inside

told him it had still been on target.

 

He blinked open his eyes as the locking ring of the

helmet clicked. The combat medsystem sprayed a mist

into his eyes, but his vision was severely degraded in

any case. He activated the sonic sensor, to cheep the

location of things at him.

 

"Takiz!" he called.

 

"Fully functional, lord," the warrior answered. "Kin-

tirisdead."

 

/ will beat her very severely, Belazir amended. Even

with the dazzles before his eyes, he could see several

arc-pistol shots snap out through the doorway, and

his machine-augmented hearing picked up the tell-

tale click of an arming plasma rifle. The walls were

reinforced here, as well. It would be tricky, and he

had not much time. Now he did not put it past these

extraordinary scumvermin to blow the station them-

selves.

 

The comm chimed and Baila's face filled one of the

chinscreens, a vague dark blur. Her voice was scratchy

with interference but audible. "Great Lord," she said

calmly. "Ships detected, incoming."

 

No! he shouted inwardly. No,1

 

"Lord," another voice spoke. The senior ground-

fighter officer. "We're holding a counterattack on the

 

404

 

Arme McCaffiny fcf SM. Stirling

 

main axial, but I cannot guarantee your withdrawal

Not for any period beyond now."

 

For perhaps ten seconds Belazir panted sharply.

 

"I will be there in five minutes, or not at all," he said.

"Out. Takiz, follow me. We head for the docks." Thank

the joss, he thought with savage irony, the northpolar

doting tube is so close to here.

 

fm blind, Channa thought. Her skin crinkled, wait-

ing for the clamp of powered gauntlets. Beside her

Patsy was shooting.

 

"Careful, Pats," Channa gasped. The blackness was

starred with red, now, and she felt needles of pain in

her forehead. Her free hand felt upward, touched her

eyes. Wetness... tears, only tears. The eyes felt normal

to her fingertips. For a long moment, she had feared it

was something like that horrible popper Joat had

made.

 

"I'm careful, all rant," Patsy said. "Got my shootin'

iron right on the doorway. They cain't move quiet in

those tin suits."

 

'Joat?"

 

"I'm all right," the girl's voice said. Her voice had a

saw-edged note that denied the words. "Hurts and I

can't see, though. I'm coming down."

 

"Don't get between me an1 the door!" Patsy said

sharply.

 

Channa dropped to her knees and shuffled forward,

hand outstretched. That touched something hot,

which brought a sharp gasp of pain; next a warm wet-

ness. She wiped her hand on the carpet and tried

again. The smooth titanium-matrix surface of the shell

was like a benediction. When she moved to the keypad,

a smaller hand touched hers. They gripped for a

moment, then pressed the key.

 

"NnoooooooooooooÑ" The scream was piercing, but

Simeon's backup speakers on his inner shell had limited

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

405

 

volume. He stuttered, babbled, then organized his voice.

 

"Thhh... ank you," he said. "Channa? Joat?" Patsy

came into the field of his vision. "What's happened?"

 

"He dropped something," Channa said. "There was

a white light and we can't see."

 

"Flash grenade," Silicon answered. "Don't worry! It

isn't permanent!" "

 

Channa gave a sobbing sigh of relief and heard it

echoed. "How long?"

 

"Well... how close were you?"

 

"Two meters to six, and looking right at it."

 

"Oh." A pause. "About a day, with medication, I'm

afraid," he said. At least for the person who was six meters

away. About the others I'm worried. Long-term reaction

was variable.

 

"Oh,great. They may come back in the doorÑ"

 

"No, they won't. I can hear their armor moving away

toward the docking tube. Lots of fighting. Look, it's the

answer to my prayers to have three beautiful women

hugging my shell, but could you get me reconnected?

Please? It's important."

 

"We can't lift you back, that's for sure," Joat said.

 

He frowned inwardly at the shakiness in her tone,

but he had no instant remedy for her.

 

"There's plenty of spare play in the cables," Channa

said. "How did they?" Her voice trailed off tactfully.

 

Simeon felt himself cringing again.

 

"No, it's all right." Sure it is. "They cut the cable

guards and then just pulled the jacks," he said. Cutting

away my strength, my sight, my feeling, cutting away me.

"Problem is ... they're color-coded. And the receptors

may be damaged."

 

"I'll get them sorted out," she said as she moved out

of his severely limited range of vision.

 

How do softshells stand only one pair of vision sensors? he

wondered. Even for a few minutes, his control had

been strained to the breaking point.

 

406

 

AnruMcCaffrvy & SJtf. Stirting

 

She returned with the cables, a double armful even

with ultra-high-data-density opticals. The jacks for the

leads were like a spray of fine hairs.

 

"Oh, oh," Simeon said.

 

"What do you mean, 'oh-oh,'" Channa replied.

 

"Everyone knows what 'oh-oh' means," Simeon said.

"It means, 'I screwed the pooch.' Your hands.. .*

 

"... are too big," she answered. "Damn."

 

"I can do it,** Joat said.

 

"You can't see, Joat"

 

"Neither can Channa. I'v&worked in the dark lots of

times. Had to. Got that toolbelt with the micros from

Engineering, too."

 

"They gave you one?" Simeon said, momentarily

startled.

 

"No."

 

"Don't tell me," he said. "All right Someone should

stand guard. I can hear if anyone's coining and give

you a bearing. Patsy?"

 

"Surely will," Patsy said. She felt her way to the

doorframe.

 

"You keep the slack on the cables, Channa."

 

"I've wanted to yank your cord for a long time

anyway, Simeon," she said with an attempt at a gafiow's

humor. Simeon felt his heart turn over as she smiled

down at him.

 

"Okay, feel your way up the face of the shell, Jack-of-

AU-Trades and master of some." Her small hands slid

upward over the smooth surface to the rounded top.

"Stop," he said to prevent her fingers from tangling the

hair fine wires protruding from the receptor

couplings.

 

"You be my hands, kid, 111 be your eyes, *kay?"

 

She took a deep breath. "Okay, what do I do?"

 

"Walk the fingers of your right hand two paces for-

ward, one pace to the left. Feel that wire?"

 

"Yeah."

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

407

 

"Follow it to the lead. Now, with your left hand..."

 

A minute later Simeon yelled again, this time a long

high screech that sounded something like Patsy as she

had at game-time rooting for the home team.

 

"Sorry, I'm sorry Simeon, I didn't mean to hurtcha,

honest!"

 

"You didn't." A bugle fanfare blew through the

lounge, and segued into a Sou/a march, then the

Ganymede Harp Variations.

 

"You've bolixed his oxygen feeds," Channa said

frantically, groping forwards.

 

"It's thecavabyl Ta-ta-tata-tara tat-teraaaa!"

 

"Simeon!"

 

"Has he gon' an* lost it?"

 

Aragiz t'Varak lolled, half-dreaming. A very pleasant

daydream. He was back on homeworld, a territorial lord

like the old recordings, and somehow Belazir t'Marid was

there. Aragiz had just defeated him the old way, spec-

tacular battles amid spouting radioactive geysers.

Blasting into the stronghold with primitive fission

weapons, hand-shaped plutonium triggered by black

powder. Belazir groveled, begging mercy for his line, but

they were led out and slaughtered before his eyes. Aragiz

was just getting into the interesting post-victory part

when the communications officer interrupted him.

 

"Detection ... Outer ring satellites. Ship signatures,

inbound."

 

The bridge of the Age of Darkness came alert.

Everyone had been waiting, nothing more to do until

they undocked next cycle and escorted the transports

back to rendezvous. He had brought everyone in,

ready for departure. NowÑ

 

"Another pullet for the plucking," Aragiz said lazily.

He felt tired. Perhaps from that scumvermin boy, what

was his name, Juke. A nice active squealer, not like that

unpleasant one who'd gone into fits after a single kiss,

 

408

 

back in the corridors. He'd kicked that one aside with a

shudder. Not for a moment did he think that he would

catch any disease, but it had been an unpleasant sight

 

"Action stations." The soft chimes rang, eerie and

ironic in their gentle harmony. "Give me a reading,

and relay to flotilla command and station-side."

 

The sensor officer consulted the machine. "Very

large mass, Great Lord. Seventy to eighty kilotons."

 

"Probably an ore carrier," the captain said. "Useful,

if not dramatic " The Clan could always use Ñ

 

"Link is down," Communications said.

 

"Again?" Aragiz barked. He couldn't decouple from

the station without clearance. That Bad Seed chugrut

Belazir had been fairly dear about that. Also, running

an intercept on an incoming freighter could be tricky.

And his head hurt, as if he'd been knocked uncon-

scious and recovered...

 

"Check climate control," he said. It was hoi. He was

sweating, and he rarely did, even in combat practice at

Kolnar-noon temperature.

 

"Yes, GreatÑwehavelostcommw^thfstation^sidevxitch.'*

 

"Wto?"Aragizsatboltupright. "When?"

 

"Some time ago. We have been getting repeats of the

last routine bailings."

 

TTiat made his stomach lurch, and suddenly he bent

over the arm and spewed.

 

"Fool!" he screamed. "Alarm Ñ" He choked on bile.

What is happening tome? He tried to rise, fell back,

thrashed, and slipped over the arm of the

commander's couch into the spilled vomit

 

Shouts of alarm rose from the crew. The groundlink

screens flickered. One cleared to show a Kolnari face

being pounded against the pickup.

 

The executive officer looked down at the jerking

form of the captain, and took command.

 

"Remaining crew, prepare for boarding action. Suit

up and Ñ"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

409

 

"Cancel that," a gravelly voice said.

 

The officer blinked, and almost shouted in gratitude.

Pol t'Veng trotted in, her combat armor scored and still

smoking in places, like that of the others behind her

Still, she was t'Veng Ñ

 

"Lord Captain," he began. There was a careful

protocol about subclan ship territories.

 

She cut him off. "Uprising. Couldn't make the Shark.

stationer electronics scrambled, hostile-controlled.

Emergency. Dump your system and call up the backup."

 

Pol glared at him, sparing the time until he sub-

mitted and saluted. Then she sank into the command

couch. Inwardly, she sighed. Every time the joss

seemed to throw the Clan a little luck, they were

knocked back to a handful of homeless fugitives again.

Every system on the ship dipped, then firmed, as the

duplicate backup computers came on-line. A glance at

the captain's readouts gave her the situation.

 

"Monitor the incoming," she said.

 

"Lord captain, it is a freighter. Should we not be

assisting in getting the station back in the fist?"

 

"Shut up. You assumed it was a freighter. Check that

reading again. Now!" Her voice was a bellow, its

natural volume increased by the suit's system to an ear

shattering volume.

 

"Reading... Anomalous readings, lord."

 

"Let me see." He keyed over to her the feeds, unfiltered

data. "Youngfool, that's notanomalousÑthat's Fleetl"

 

She paused a second to free a sidearm and pump a

pulse of energy into Aragiz's thrashing body. His

squealing was distracting.

 

"Emergency decouple," she said. Besides, she had

wanted to kill him for years. This one should have been

culled before he walked.

 

"We are loading fuel!"

 

"Move."

 

He did. His hand swept the controls, and the Age of

 

410

 

Arme McCaffrey 6? SM,. Stirling

 

Darkness shuddered as explosive charges blasted it

loose from the SSS-900-C's north docking tube. Fire

blossomed out of the dockway after them, along with

steam and pieces of cargo and humans. Kolnari as well

as scumvermin, she supposed. ^

 

"Broadcast, override, High Clan seek Refuge, High

Clan seek Refuge," she snapped. "Put it on loop, open

Clan frequency."

 

The officer's eyes flared wide. That was die command to

break, run and scatter, to approach the preset rendezvous

points only years later and with maximum caution. Those

points were in no file, no hedron, only in living brains and

only a few of those. The final desperation measure to

protect the Divine Seed, that it might grow again.

 

"Heart Crusher. Chindik t'Marid."

 

"Put it through."

 

"Lord Pol, you are receiving what I do?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Data coming in," the sensor chief said.

 

Pol t'Veng looked down again. The Fleet warships

were coming up out of subspace like tungior broaching

in the seas of Kolnar; huge masses, neutrino signatures

of enormous powerplants, ripping through into the

fabric of reality.

 

"Command frequency broadcast! Identifying follow-

ing," she said. "Fleet units emerging coordinates

follow, probables: destroyers, six Ñ correction, six

destroyers plus three light, one heavy cruiser and pos-

sible ... Confirmed, three assault carriers. All Clan

ships, report status. Lord t'Marid, report status."

 

"We coordinate?" Chindick asked.

 

"No. You have not the insystem boost. Use the sta-

tion for cover as long as you can. They will not

endanger it."

 

"Repeat?"

 

"Scumvermin psychology. Go. Lord t'Marid, status."

 

T Marid here," the familiar voice said, harsher than

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

411

 

she could remember. "Bride decoupling. We can cover."

 

"No, with respect Yours is the more valuable Seed."

Especially since this skip has t'Varak's sweepings as crew. "Bride,

Shark and Strangier should cover the transports."

 

A pause. "Agreed. Y\fciit for us with the Ancestors,

Pol t'Veng."      t

 

"Guard our Seed and Clan, Belazir I'Marid," she

replied.

 

Then her attention went back to the work at hand. A

Central Worlds Space Navy medium attack group bore

down on them, with a dozen times the firepower the

High Clan had available here and now, given the general

pathetic botchup. About equal to the whole current Clan

armada, give or take a dozen factors. Pol had fought the

Fleet before and had a healthy respect for their

capabilities. They were dangerous scumvermin.

 

"Helm," she went on. "Set course. Coordinates fol-

low." She had plugged the suit's leads into the couch.

"Maximum boost"

 

"Lord Captain," the executive officer said. "That is a

course/or the enemy fleet. What are we to do there?"

With one undercrewed frigate, went without saying.

 

"Do?" Pol t'Veng roared out a single bark of

laughter. "We die, fool!"

 

The commander's couch reclined, locking into

combat position. "We will attempt to break through

to the transports," she said. "The warships will

maneuver to protect them. We fight for maximum

delay. Any questions?"

 

"Command us, lord!"

 

"Prepare to engage."

 

"They are smashing us like eggs," Joseph said.

 

Amos nodded. Without Simeon, the stationers lost

their advantage of superior coordination. Against

professionals, he had been the only one they had had,

once the Kolnari recovered their balance.

 

412

 

Anne McCtffrey & SM. Stirling

 

"Simeon was a... a brave man," Amos said. And if he

were realty a man, a dangerous rival, he added to himself

"And very skillful. I honor his memory." Joseph nodded;

they clasped hand to forearm. "Farewell, my brother."

 

"Fardlin* touching, really," a voirffc said in his ear.

 

Amos leaped upright, then ducked again frantically

as a bolt spattered metal near his face.

 

"Simeon?" he gasped.

 

"No, the Ghost of Christmas Past," the brain replied.

"I'm back. So," he went on, glee bubbling through his

voice, "are some other people.*1

 

A holo formed behind the barricade: a figure in

green power armor of a chunkier, more compact

design than the Kolnari suits Amos was used to. In the

background was the bridge of a large vessel, battle-clad

figures moving about. A woman, with a man in like

equipment but different insignia beside her.

 

"Admiral Questar-Benn," the Woman said.

Remarkably, she appeared to be in late middle age but

undeniably healthy and close-knit. "Commodore

Tellin-Makie, of the batdecruiser Santayana."

 

"Oh, God is great, God is Merciful, God is One,"

Amos murmured through numb lips. "Bethel?"

 

"Don't worry. It's a big navy. We hit them as they

were getting ready to leave. Reports show not much

damage to the planet since you left, if you're Benisur

Ben Sierra Nueva."

 

"Keep firing!" Joseph barked to the others at the

barricade. "You can die just as dead winning as losing."

 

The commodore laughed shortly. "Profoundly

true," he said. "Simeon, Ms. Hap, all of you, you've

done a very good job. Heroic, in feet We didn't expect

to find anything but bodies and wreckage."

 

"It was a close-run thing," Simeon said feelingly. "A

damned dose-run thing." Both the officers seemed to

find that amusing.

 

"Here's my record of the whole thing, start to finish,"

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

413

 

said Channa and the Navy officers* eyes turned. Evi-

dently they had video of her. Amos hissed a low

complaint, and three more holos joined the image of

the Santayana's deck.

 

"We've still got a lot of t%e pirates in station," Channa

said. "Should we back off?" She swallowed. "Alotof our

people have been hurt"

 

"Negative," the admiral said, shaking her head.

"Give them time to think, and sure as death and fete,

one of them will find a way to blow the station. I've got a

Marine regimental combat team in the transports.

We'll forcedock as soon as I swat the Kolnari warships.

That battle platform could be tricky."

 

The commodore leaned out of the sight picture and

spoke to someone else. "Well, then, get the destroyers

toenglobe it, then!"

 

"It's not over until it's over," Questar-Benn said.

 

"Er... not the Questar-Benn?" Simeon asked, awed.

 

"Not if you mean Micaya," she said dryly. "I'm the

dull sister, the straight-leg." She glanced down at the

data flowing in from SSS-900-C. "Bastards. Murdering

sub-human mutant swine. Maybe now the inbred

penny-pinching High Families incompetent corrup-

tionists back at Central will get their thumbs out of

their backsides and let us do something about Kolnar

and all its little offshoots."

 

"Ma'am," Tellin-Makie said warningly.

 

"I'm not bucking for another star, Eddin," she said.

"I can afford to tell the truth without a bucket of syrup

on it" She looked up and out at the stationers. "Here's

what we want you to do," she went on crisply.

 

God, Amos thought. Thank you. For victory, and for

someone else to tell him what to do for a change.

Leadership could get very tiring. He suspected Fate

was going to send more of it his way. The prospect did

not seem as attractive as it once had.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

415

 

CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE

 

"I never understood what he meant before," Simeon

said, looking out at the huge docking chamber which

held only the dead, now in covered silent rows. "I

thought I did, but 1 didn't."

 

The medics and their patients were gone, to station

sickbays or to the trauma stations of the warships.

Equally silent were the motionless Marine sentries who

stood with weapons reversed by the Navy dead. The

squad at the docking airlock snapped to attention as

each shrouded body went by. The civilians looking

among the stationer dead were nearly as quiet, only a

few sobbing faindy.

 

"Understood what who meant?" Channa said,

blinking behind the dark glasses that hid her

bandages. She appeared detached, almost aloof, just

like the two Navy commanders who stood with her

and the little group of stationers.

 

"Wellington," Simeon said." 'Idan'tknowwhatitistolasea

battle; but certainty nothing can be more painful than to gam one

with the loss ofsomanyfriends.' He said that after Waterloo."

 

The admiral nodded. "I remember when I found

that out," she said very softly. "If you've got a grain of

sense, you never forget it."

 

"Ain't that the truth!" Patsy Sue Coburn said. Beside

her, Florian Gusky put his synth-splinted arm com-

panionably around her shoulders. She stiffened, then

forced herself to put up a hand and pat it gently. "You

don't forget anything. But you learn to live with it.

C'mon, Gus. I do believe you owe me a drink."

 

Channa turned her head toward their footsteps.

"Yes," she said, with a bitter smile. "We learn to live

with it. If this is heroism, why do I feel like such crap?"

 

"Because you're here," Questar-Benn said.

"Heroism is something somebody else does some-

where far away. In person, it's tragedy." Her voice

sharpened. "And it could be worse, much worse, and

would have been but for you. We did win. You are here.

And," she went on more lighdy, "you're heroes in the

media, at least Which means, by the way, you can write

your own rickets."

 

"Tickets?" Simeon asked.

 

"You always wanted a warship posting, didn't you?"

she said. "With this on your record..."

 

Simeon hesitated. Joat had been standing by

Channa's side, quiet and drawn. Now the old coldness

settled over her face, and she began to edge away.

 

Everyone's always left her, or cheated her, or hurt her, he

thought

 

"I'm not so sure," he said aloud, "that I want a

military career any more."

 

Admiral Questar-Benn nodded vigorously. "That

makes you more qualified. They shovel glory hounds

out of the Academy by the job-lot and we have to spend

years breaking them of such fatuous nonsense."

 

"Besides, I have a daughter," and his instant and

totally gratifying reward was the dawning of hope on

Joat's face. "Thanks, though. Maybe, someday." Some

dreams don't transfer well into reality, he told himself. He

could see Joat's chest lifting with the deeper breaths of

self-confidence and she didn't look about to disappear

on him.

 

"And have you soured on Senalgal?" the com-

modore said, turning to Channa.

 

"It's still a beautiful world," she said, shaking her head

slowly. "But it* s not my home." She reached down to Joat

beside her and, touching the girl's face with her fingertips,

 

416

 

Amu McQffiey & 5M. Stirling

 

felt the slightest of resistance to such fondling. Learning to

trust, and to be a human being, was not something that

came quickly or easily. But you had to begin somewhere or

you never arrived. "Besides, Joat's my daughter, too. And

I've friends here, the best there are£

 

Questar-Benn threw up her hands. "Simeon, you're

going to be around a very long time. The offer still

stands, I'll leave it on record."

 

"Hey, Pops," Joat said, her voice a little unsteady

despite the cocky tone. "I mean^ww, Simeon."

 

"Great Ghu! Canjunt, of all people, not think a more

suitable title than 'Pops' to call me?" Simeon demanded

in a semi-indignant tone, but he would have settled for

anything of a familial nature from Joat.

 

"Sure, but I don't think you'd like to know 'em!" She

smiled her urchin grin in his image. "Any rate, I'm

gonna be sixteen standard in a few years. Enlistment

age. And I don't want you blaming me for screwing up

your career plans. I... I'd sort of Uke to keep this from

happening to somebody else, you know?" She turned

to the admiral. "Think these brass-a... um, general-

type people might have a use for me?"

 

Questar-Benn shuddered. "I'm probably perpetrat-

ing horrors on some unsuspecting commander left to

deal with you in the future, young lady, but yes. I'd be

very surprised if we couldn't find a use for all of you."

She swept the present company with her piercing gaze.

 

"Then we may take you up on that offer," Simeon

said. Although he was too enervated to enjoy

thoughts of revenge, no amount of emotional

exhaustion could remove the need to do something

about the Kolnari: next week, maybe. "But right

now, I'd rather call in the gratitude as a favor, if you

don't mind, Admiral," Simeon said.

 

"Favor? For who?"

 

"A friend," he said. A holo grew, of a boy about

Joat's age.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

417

 

Joat started violently. **Seld! They wouldn't let me

see ya, said you were sick!"

 

The figure nodded. "You knew that. You know I've

been sick a long while, Joat," he said with the incredible

batience of the chronic in valid. "Only it went off the

screen. I can see this," ancfne looked down at his frail, fimp

body, strapped in an upright position on the bed, *1>ut I

can'tfeelanything or move it, ordoanything, really."

 

"Oh, damn!" Joat moved a hand through the holo as

if she could reverse the damage somehow.

 

"The navy medicos have got me hooked up to a

nervesplice monitor, to keep my heart going and stuff.

Simeon himself," and now he managed a proud grin,

"is hacking into it"

 

Joat blinked. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I

shouldn't've called you a wuss. I heaved my cookies

afterwards, too. I guess it's my fault, hey? Expecting

you to do more'n you could, should!"

 

"Nah," Seld on the holo said. "I was stupid, you

know. You could do all those things I couldn't, and I

was... hell, Joat, I was gonna end up like this anyway,

sooner'r later. Grudly, but I knew it. Dad knew it, but

he sort of didn't at the same time. I've had a lot of time

to think about it."

 

Joat nodded, then narrowed her eyes. "Those caps

were the final push, weren't they? Why'd you use one?"

 

"'Cause I was so scared of seeing you get killed, Joat.

You're my best friend. Besides," he went on, "that Kolnari

Lord'd just belted me real hard. Then... I tell you, the

ultimo grudly," and Seld rolled his eyes in disgust, "when

he teserfme.solwantedsomeofmyownback."

 

"Yeah," and Joat nodded in approval, "you would

at that!"

 

"That's when I had a fit. Would have happened

eventually, really it would, Jo. Dad says another ten

years, max."

 

Joat looked around at the Navy officers. "I don't

 

418

 

Aim* McQffivy fe? SM.. Stirling

 

think that's good enough. Can't you guys better the

odds for 'm? Doesn't he deserve more than ten years?"

Her hard voice cracked a little.

 

Questar-Benn winced and the commodore focused

his eyes on something else. ^

 

"I never get used to this," the commodore under his

breath. "What's the favor, Simeop?

 

Channa's head came up sharply. "Simeon? You've a

suggestion?"

 

"1 do," Simeon said in such a positive, you-should-have-

known-I-would tone of.voice that he commanded

everyone's attention. "I've been checking around and the

AtexHypatia-1033 told me about new tricks that Dr. Ken-

net Uhua-Sorg*s been working on. No oneÑyetÑis able

to regenerate the spinal nerve sheaths. Kenny Sorg

developed a prosthesis Ñ for himself, incidently, but it'll

suitSeld'sparticularrequirements,too. Kid, you're too old

to be a shellperson: you'd never psychologically adjust

Kenny Soig's condition is about the same as yours and he

gets around just fine," and Simeon projected a holo of a

man, moving down a corridor but too smoothly to be

"walking." He "walked" upright, true, but his body was

framed by an slender exo-skeleton which held him erect,

with his feet on a platform, similar but much thicker than

the station float disks. The base ingeniously held the

power supply and monitoring equipment. "I'm told, Seld,

that you'll have use of your arms and the base is sophisti-

cated enough to do as much for your body as my shell does

for me. Long as you don't try slipping dirough ventilation

ducts or falting headfirst out of services hatches, you

should last as long as most softshells, skeleton man!"

 

In this instance, Simeon's rewards were many: Joat

jumping up and down, gurgling with laughter while

tears streamed down her face, as well as Channa's, and

Seld crowed like he'd turned rooster. There were

expressions of intense relief on the faces of admiral and

the commodore.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

419

 

"I do like to see alternative solutions," Questar-Benn

said, "and we'll put a naval courier B & B ship at the

disposal of Seld and his father for transfer to the

Central Worlds Medstation where Dr. Sorg is currendy

practicing. Is that the f$vor you wanted, Simeon?"

 

"The very one," fhe station replied.

 

"Frabjus, Skelly Seld," Joat was saying to Seld, "111 be

right down and we can celebrate together," and she

waved a jaunty farewell behind her as she left.

 

Exhausted as much by this unexpectedly felicitous

outcome as the weight of problems still to be resolved,

Channa sank back into her float chair.

 

"One more on the up side," she murmured to reas-

sure herself. "Simeon, I'm sort of tired. Could you... ?"

 

The others murmured apologies and moved aside

while Simeon guided her chair away.

 

"A moment then, Amos ben Sierra Nuevo," Questar-

Benn. Amos turned in surprise, shot one anxious look at

Channa's disappearing figure but had no choice but to

give the Admiral his attention." If you'd be good enough to

accompany the Commodore and me to our quarters..."

 

He was as glad as they appeared to be to leave the

sad ambience of the cargo bay, though only one more

of his shrinking band of Bethelites lay there.

 

The Admiral and Commodore noted his interest in

the interior of their flagship and explained as they

walked through the maze, absently accepting salutes or

nods as they passed details of men and women hurry-

ing about their tasks.

 

None of the Central Worlds' ships had taken much

damage though the battle with the desperate Kolnari

warships had been fierce, if brief. The guided tour was

enough to make Amos wonder anew how Guiyon had

managed to get the old Exodus anywhere, much less

reach SSS-900-C.

 

He was sighing in semi-despair for all the problems

he now faced in giving his poor plundered planet even

 

420

 

Anne McCaffrey &SM. Stating

 

a semblance of the efficiency and expertise Central

Worlds took for granted.

 

"Ah, yes, here we are, Benisur..." the commodore

said and Amos with suitable humility corrected him to

"a simple Amos, sir." "We've been Aceiving updates of

aflairs on Bethel and have need of your assistance."

 

Five men and women were seated about the lounge,

the two youngest Ñ a man and a women in their early

twenties, jumping to their feet at the entrance of

Admiral, Commodore and their guest

 

"Here he is, gentlefolk^'Questar-Benn, "Benisur

ben Sierra Nuevos, aka Simeon-Amos and the putative

leader of the Bethelites."

 

"No, no," Amos said, shaking head and hand to deny

that title. He didn't want that mantle laid on his

shoulders. Not now.

 

"As you will, young man," Questar-Benn said curtly,

"but you were the leader of the dissidents as well as the

defender of Bethel and we need your input." Then

while Amos continued to demur, she overrode him by

introducing the group. "Senior Counsellor Agrum of

SPRIM, Representative Fusto of MM, Observer

Nilsdotter, PAs Ferryman for SPRIM and Losh Lentel

for MM. Simeon, are you here?"

 

"I am," Simeonsaid, his voice issuing from the comuniL

 

He might have warned me, Amos thought sourly. BtU

perhaps swiftly done is best done. He gave them a dignified

greeting, hand to heart and mind. The young woman,

the Observer, was both startled and charmed.

 

Suddenly he was seated and stewards were passing

among the group with drinks and finger foods.

 

Perhaps, I'm merely light-headed with hunger, Amos

thought, feeling the better after a sip of a sustaining hot

drink and a sample from the plate of delicacies offered.

 

"Quite simply, ben Sierra Nuevo ... all right then,

Amos," the senior counsellor began with no more

to-do, "we need your help to reassure those elements

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

421

 

of your people who managed to hide away from the

Kolnari. They are terrified and not about to take the

word of any strangers even when we holo-ed every sur-

face with 'casts of the Navy taking Kolnari prisoners."

 

"And making themsinload all die loot they'd stored,"

said die beetlebrowed Representative Fusto. He looked as

if he had personally overseen that operation and enjoyed

it. He had a narrow face and close-set eyes in a narrow

head set on shoulders much too muscular in contrast

 

"Some of my people survived?" Amos tried not to

wince for this only reinforced the inevitability of his

return.

 

"Specific figures number the survivors as 15,000...."

 

The population Ñ the former population Ñ of this station,

he thought, unable to suppress a groan.

 

The Observer misinterpreted it with a smile of great

sadness and understanding. "Your people have been very

brave and suffered terribly. We of SPRIM and MM," and

she pointed to the other four, "are empowered to assist die

reconstruction of your world...."

 

Amos groaned again. So much to be done. And his

people would resent the intrusion of infidels, no matter

how well intentioned.

 

"We cannot, of course, interfere with the govern-

ment of any planet," Agrum said, clearing his throat

and giving the woman an admonishing glance, "but

humanitarian aid certainly fells in our jurisdiction and

we are able to provide whatever supplies and materials

are needed on an interim basis."

 

Beetle-brows Fusto gave his opposite number in

SPRIM a dark look. "MM requires you to survive on

your own efforts but we prevent exploitation of

minority groups for any reason whatever. We prefer to

establish contact with a senior government official,

preferably elected by the minority in question, but you

qualify Ñ according to Simeon Ñ as the logical and

most accessible representative."

 

422

 

Arme McCaffrey fcf SM. Stating

 

for this I thank you, Simeon, Amos said, hoping that no

one, especially the Observer, would hear him grind his

teeth.

 

"Your planet got pretty well razed to subsoil," the com-

modore said. "'S going to take hetpto restart," and he, in

turn, gave the MM official a quelling look, smiling at Amos

as if to say "they mean well but they're heavy-handed."

"We had to put up a transmitter," and he shrugged as if

such a facility was a mere notibing, "and die engineers put

up a temp at the space fieldÑwhich is littered with a lot of

hulls, some of which could'well be refitted for whatever

lunar mining would put you back on-line mere."

 

A transmitter and space facility? Re-usable hulls for

the craft the Kolnari had fused. Amos began to feel less

despondent, though half of him resisted.

 

"Humanitarian aid will be sufficient to see your

people through the on-coming winter," Agrum went

on, "using whatever shelters your culture prefers..."

 

"We cannot land alter-culturals on Bethel, of

course," Fusto half-interrupted, "but orbital staff is not

considered by Central Worlds Authority to com-

promise indigenous integrity..."

 

"If you wish, you may request additional colonials of

your own persuasion..." from Nilsdotter.

 

Amos turned from one speaker to the other, half dazed.

 

"Give the kid a break," Simeon said suddenly. "Why

don't you let him read the reports so he knows what

you're talking about, huh?"

 

"Of course," said SPRIM.

 

"Our intention, I assure you, Station Simeon," MM

said defensively.

 

"Then let it be so," Admiral Questar-Benn said, smil-

ing encouragingly at Amos as she handed him several

disk files and led him to another room where he could

digest the information in private.

 

"Not over until it's over," the Admiral remarked to

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

423

 

the commodore as they watched the sometimes con-

tentious delegation leave their quarters.

 

"And it's never over," Tellin-Makie replied, pouring

them both snifters of brandy in the flag quarters. "I

didn't have the heart to remind them that those aren't

the only bunch of Kolnari running around loose."

 

"And if you leave a pair, they breed up again," she

said wearily. "They know that. Which is the reason I

suspect we'll have Simeon and the others on die rolls in

a couple of years. The Kolnari will be a menace as long

as two of them are left alive."

 

"The Psych people swear they can be rehabilitated."

 

"Rehabilitated to E equals M and C squared," she

said, taking a sip. "Dam" cockroaches." Another sigh.

"Maybe this little atrocity will get us some resources."

 

"For a while, until the general public become inured

to these particular atrocities," Tellin-Makie said, "then

we can go back to peeing on bonfires. It's not as if they

were the only serious problem, either."

 

"Would that it were so. Would that it were so, my friend."

 

She looked at the screen, which showed an exterior

view of SSS-900-C. Repair servos and suited figures were

already working on some of the more urgent damage,

though it would be a generation before the devastation

was fully repaired. She made a mental note to have En-

gineering help out while the task force was on station here.

 

"All in all, though, I'm glad we don't have their

problems, poor heroic sods," she said.

 

"Amen."

 

"Yes, yes," Joseph said eagerly when Amos finished

telling him of the help promised by SPRIM and MM, up

to and including a Brain Planetary manager to replace

Guiyon. "Wemustreturnasquicklyaspossible."

 

"Yes, you and Rachel must"

 

"Rachel and I?" Joseph repeated, staring in sudden

alarm at Amos.

 

424

 

ArmeMcCajfiq& SJtf. Stirling

 

"Yes, because there is much to organize on the

ground before we may accept the beneficence..."

 

"But it is you, Amos ben Sierra Nuevo, who must

return!" Joseph's face was stricken. "Itisyour duty. Our

world is but a lake of mourning. They need^ow. They

need a heroÑand their Prophet"

 

Amos paced, hands behind his back, clenching and

unclenching, up and down the floor of his room in

Simeon's quarters.

 

"They need a hero, granted, Joseph," he said, stop-

ping in front of his friend, "but if I am a hero, then so

are you!"

 

"Me?" Joseph laughed. "I am your henchman. Your

right hand, and proud to be so. Your friend, and

prouder still of that But you are the prophet, the hero,

the one the people follow."

 

Amos took him by the shoulders. "You are my

brother, as truly as if the same mother bore us."

 

Joseph blinked as Amos drew him into the double

cheek-touch of close kin to emphasize his words. "And

it is you who will return while I deal with these infidels

and make certain that what charity they would foist on

us will not weaken our people but allow them to

become strong in such ways that no other scavenger

can ever catch us unawares." Who saves the saved from the

savior* he thought

 

"And I ... I wonder," Amos went on aloud. I

wonder if it is good, that the new leader is of the old

Prophet's line Ñ may God smile on him! Too many

generations have the people followed the old families."

He winced. "And followed them to ruin."

 

"You would lead us to greatness!" Joseph said forceful-

ly. The more so if you doubted yourself less, he added to

himself. "You have shown your strengths as a self-

thinker, a defender of his planet, a guileful strategist..."

 

"History does not show many battle-leaders who had

the same talent for being peace-leaders!"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

425

 

"But you are of a peaceful nature until roused to

defend what you hold dear," Joseph said, "even as you

have seen your duty now to protect us against those who

wish to protect us!" Joseph turned sternly grim now. "It is

the blind face of Channa d*t hides your way."

 

Amos looked so fiercely at him that Joseph turned

his face away, his shoulders sagging in acknow-

ledgement.

 

"I also cannot abandon these here to whom we, for

our very lives, owe a debt of gratitude. If, in this one

instance, duty and honor are both served, let me serve

it." Amos sighed deeply, torn between love and duty.

"Are Simeon, Joat and Channa to be merely a chapter

of my life because fourteen generations ago the

Prophet fathered my many-times great granddather?

We saw on Bethel what comes of that"

 

"Yes, Amos, in all truth we did. And you are right to

wish to be indebted to all," and Joseph laid a subtle

emphasis on the word, "the stationers even though the

need for your special role is now over."

 

"Yes, that is over. In its place, I must assume several

roles and do each well in all honor." Then he gave the

younger man a sudden smile, the sort that had always

drawn the required response from any recipient "And I

give Rachel the chance to restore honor to her name."

 

Joseph gave him a sudden stare as fierce as the one

Amos had given him. "What do you mean?"

 

"She was, after all, trained as an infosystems

administrator. It is her duty to assist you in calling our

people from their hiding places, to organize the

reports that I must receive to know what is most

needed. With you two side by side Ñ that is what you

wish, is it not, Joseph? Rachel by your side?"

 

The younger man laughed and blushed, which

seemed to embarrass him more.

 

"You know it is what I wish but, Amos, do not blame

her for what she did."

 

426

 

ArmtMcCaffrty&SM. Stating

 

"I do not," Amos lied stoutly, "but she will need to

redeem herself in her own eyes!"

 

"Ah, yes," said Joseph with a sigh. "She is anxious to

do that. She talks to me about it," he went on in a softer

voice. "She talks of you but she aldb talks of you to me."

 

"Then go to her, Joseph my brother, my friend. If you

insist on making me wear the mantel of a leader, then I

have issued an order to you. But think also of what I have

told you, brother hero. You return to Bethel as my brother

and my equal, not my retainerÑnot even first among my

retainers. The time forthoae petty protocolsis past"

 

"I go," Joseph said. He turned on the threshold.

"And you, too, have earned a litde happiness, I think.

God willing, may you find it!"

 

Channa had insisted on returning to her brawn's

quarters, pointing out that there was nothing else

Chaundra or his staff could do for her in sickbay.

 

"I'll be much better off there," she told him, "because

I know my way around. Simeon can remind me where

I put things so I can find what I need. Only time will

make a difference now."

 

Once Simeon had angled the chair float beside her

satin-draped bed, she lay down, not seeing, not speak-

ing, absorbing the most recent events. Not that she

wasn't overwhelmingly relieved that Seld had been

granted a reprieve. But there were so many decisions

to be made, hanging in the air, over her head, where

she could feel them, even if she couldn't see them. She

could feel a trickle down her cheek and, with a gesture

she hoped masked the real reason, she blotted the

cheek on the gray satin cover.

 

"Penny for your thoughts?"

 

Because Simeon had picked exacdy the appropriate

light tone, she gave him a wan smile though she wondered

how he had noticed such a small thing as a tear

 

"I've none to sell," she said, "justbits and pieces float-

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

427

 

jug around. Like, Happy endings suck the galactic muffin.

It's enough to give you a headache."

"D'you have one?" Instant concern colored his voice.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head on the pillow.

"Look, Channa, youlwfl be all right," he said in the

firm tone one uses when one is hoping against hope

one's statement is correct.

 

She nodded once sharply, minding her temper and

her manners. "Yes, I'm sure I will." Her voice was tight

 

"I've scanned every report I could find on this kind

of temporary blindness, Channa," he went, infusing

his voice with confidence. I'd give anything to be able to

hold you in arms and comfort you but all I've got is voice con-

tact. Talk to me, Channa. "Worse scenario and you'll still

see Ñ through my sensors. Remember that, Channa.

And I see real good and wherever I need to!"

 

She had stiffened and cut through his opening

words in a rather shrill voice. "Simeon, spare me the...

Could you do that for me?"

 

"Sure," he said, both surprised and testy. "But surely

you knew that You've been using my senses for the last

two weeks!"

 

Her jaw dropped and then a tremulous smile

crossed her lips. "So I have, haven't I?" she said in a

broken voice. After a moment's silence, she added in a

contrite voice, "I owe you, and everyone else an apol-

ogy, for acting like a self-pitying wuss!"

 

"Well, after all, you've had quite an adjustment to

make."

 

"But I didn't have to snarl at you."

 

"Oh, that? I wouldn't know how to answer smartly if

you didn't Don't break that habit, Charma-mine."

 

Her smile was stronger. "Then I certainly won't"

 

"Because you like the challenge, don't you? And, by

and large, I'm good company."

 

"And so modest"

 

"So witty and intelligent," he reminded her.

 

428

 

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Slitting

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

429

 

"And so handsome."

 

"Do you really think so?"

 

"Oh yes," she said, "I especially like your dueling

scar, that's a nice touch."

 

"Thank you," he said, gratified. ""Sfeu're the first per-

son who's ever mentioned it I've been waiting for years

for someone to ask about it. Sometimes people think

it's dirt on the projector lens."

 

She grinned. "It goes well with the baseball cap."

 

He paused a moment, unsure, "Um..."

 

"No, really," she assured ftim, "That projection's a

perfect portrait of your personality. It's not based on a

chromosomal extrapolation, is it?"

 

"Naw," he said, putting a grin in his voice. "It's me as

I want to be. I'd have hated it if an extrap of me came

out with a receding chin and a big nose, so 1 never tried

to find out. I'm Simeon, the self-created!"

 

"Wise," she agreed, "very wise."

 

The door opened and Amos stood on the threshold.

"Channa!" he cried out in a passionate voice.

 

She sat bolt upright on the bed, her lips parted in

surprise. "I thought you'd left."

 

He rushed to her side and drew her into his arms.

"How can I leave you like this?" he said, stroking her hair.

 

Simeon cursed under his breath. Leave it to Amos to

undo all his hard work. Just when fve got her cheered up and

back to something near hernffrnudÑforherÑframe of mmd.

 

Channa put up a hand, found Amos' face and leaned

forward to kiss him, smiling because she had caught

the corner of his mouth and was working her way into

a position that satisfied her.

 

When the long kiss ended, Amos said with a sigh,

"You want me!"

 

No, you ass! She wants a double malt and a ticket to "Death

in the Twenty-First." Would that I had hands, Oh Amos ben

Sierra Nueva, to clout you up alongside the head with.

 

Channa didn't answer but held her head as though

 

looking at Amos through her bandages. Amos smiled

at her, the smile of a man who believes he can

accomplish anything, a smile that proclaimed the

beai^r to be the recipient of a miracle.

" I came to ask you to come with me," he said, laughing.

"You did?" she said ina dreamy tone. They kissed

again, more deeply, Channa burrowed deeper into his

embrace, sighing like someone relieved of a pain they

did not know they suffered.

"I love you, Channa," he said.

"I love you, Simeon," she murmured.

Amos stiffened. Channa raised her blind face to his

and whispered huskily again. "I love you."

 

He released her and moved back. She hesitated and

turned her head from side to side. "Amos? What is it? Is

someone here?"

 

"Yes,"he said stiffly, "someone who comesbetween us,"

Puzzled, Channa reached out blindly with one hand,

the other resting on Amos's chest. "There's no one

here but us. What are you talking about?"

 

"Simeon," he said the name with a hiss. "For whom

you have just declared your love."

 

Her face altered abruptly fromjoy to chagrin. "I... I..."

shebegan in confusion.

 

"A gentleman of the Sierra Nueva does not intrude. I

am in the way," Amos said, flinging off her hands and

jumping to his feet. "I will leave you alone together."

And he was gone.

 

Channa swung her legs from the bed and lunged

after him. She moved with unexpected speed and

before Simeon could warn her, she crashed into the

wall, just beside the door. Weeping, she stepped to the

right point and the door opened for her.

 

"Amos! Wait!" she shouted and this time Simeon

opened the outside door but she paused on the

threshold to get her bearings and heard, all too dearly,

the elevator's dosing.

 

430

 

Arme McCaffrey &f SM. Staling

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

431

 

"Amos! Don't go!" she cried, and heard it engage.

She stood leaning her head against the metal, sobbing

gently, tears soaking the adhesive synthetic of her

bandages.

 

Inside the descending lift, j4teios leaned his head

against the wall, Channa's desperate voice echoing in

his mind. Almost, but not quite louder than her

whisper Ñ "I love you, Simeon."

 

"Where do think you're going?" Simeon asked him.

He straightened and gritted his teeth. "To the

docks," he said crisply. "I>must return to Bethel!"

 

Simeon gave a dramatic sigh. "And who's to go

between Bethel and SPRIM and MM? Who saves the

saved from the savior?"

 

Amos was aghast at hearing his own thoughts come

back at him from Simeon.

 

"Someone has to handle them," Simeon continued.

"Rachel can. She's a trained infosystems spe..."

"Rachel!" Simeon roared in surprise. "She wouldn't

know how to handle them. They'd twist her up into lit-

tle knots. Not that she isn't twisted right now."

"They say they cannot interfere..."

"They say, they say," Simeon chanted back at him.

"Use your wits, Amos, and don't suggest Joseph. He's

the guy you need on the planet, coaxing your people

out of whatever lairs they've hidden in. No, you're the

only one who can be johnny-on-the-spot here!"

 

"What I do now is my business," Amos said in a snarl-

ing tone. "You have no right to interfere either ..."

Only then did Amos notice that the elevator had

stopped moving. He crossed his arms. "So, do you

mean to hold me prisoner here until Joseph, Rachel

and the others have left?"

 

"Emotionally you've been a prisoner since you got

here. Why do think I went to so much trouble to get

SPRIM and MM involved with Bethel?"

 

"You did. But the Admiral and the Commodore..."

 

"Listened to what I had to tell them, which is more

than you ever do. You've got to be here..."

 

Outrage, indignation, disgust and fury raced

unchecked across Amos' fece. "So? You admit it**

 

"Huh?"      *

 

"You admit that you only wish to make of me a sex

toy," Amos cried passionately, "a surrogate for yourself

with Channa!"

 

"I what?" Simeon's voice reverberated in the con-

fines of the small chamber. "You are bughouse!

Which is probably why it's such an interesting idea,"

he added in a reasonable, half-amused tone, "but

you said it, I didn't. However, it's not on my behalf

you've got to be here. It's Channa's. She really is in

love with you, Amos. Can't you get that through

your arrogant to-the-manor-born head?"

 

"Loves me? Loves me? Then why does she embrace

me and say, I love you, Simeon?"

 

"And, of course, she hasn't been calling you Simeon-

Amos for the past intense two weeks, has she?"

 

"BanchutT Amos smacked his forehead with the fiat

of his palm, his expression one of utter dismay.

 

"It sure wasn't me, or my holo, or even the shell of

me she was kissing just now! Cut her a litde slack. She's

been blinded, dammit! She's scared, she's exhausted,

she's under pressure. Don't cut the heart out of her for

a slip of the Up!"

 

"A slip?"

 

"A slip! You ego-centric rag-head selfish bastard!"

 

"But you love her, too!" Amos brandished his fist, glar-

ing about him to find a target for his frustration and wrath.

 

"Yes, I love her. Just as much as you do. No, probably a

lot more. And yes, she's in love with me a little, and I

treasure that But I can't touch her, Amos. I can't hold her

no matter how much I would like to. What are you wor-

rying about?**

 

"That she dreams of you and wonders what it would

 

432

 

AmuMcCaffrey &f SJM. Stating

 

THE Cnv WHO FOUGHT

 

43S

 

be like to be inyour arms." In the confines of the elevator

Amos heard the sound of his angry jealous words echo

back at him. "I think that she would Hke to close her eyes

and hear your voice whisper to her as I make love to her. I

will not be that fantasy for her, no$for you."

 

"Well, I'll tell you what / think. I think that you are a

dirty-minded, fat-headed, parochial, small-minded,

jealous hunk of pig fat. Just let me give you a taste of

what she's going through and you stalking off and leav-

ing her alone with it."

 

Simeon turned off the lights in the elevator. Amos

was plunged into pitch blackness; just long enough to

reach the stage of imagining lights and colors to con-

sole himself. The human eye is not meant for complete

darkness. Even on an overcast night with eyes dosed

there is some ambient light

 

The darkness and motion were disorienting.

 

And frightening, the Bethelite admitted to himself.

 

"Stop it" Amos said calmly, but firmly. Simeon didn't

answer. "Stop it, I said," a trace of unease creeping into

his voice. An accident, who would doubt his word?

 

Simeon brought the elevator to a halt

 

"It's unpleasant, isn't it?" Simeon asked quietly.

 

"Yes," Amos said shordy, sullenly. "Please, would you

turn on the lights?"

 

"Channa can't," Simeon observed. "It's possible they

won't come back on and she'll have to get a prostheses,

one of those devices they set into your face. Yup, things

could look like this to her forever."

 

"What do you want me to do?" Amos demanded. "I

would give her my sight if 1 could."

 

"That's a safe offer," Simeon observed contempt-

uously, "she wouldn't accept such a sacrifice even if it

was needed."

 

"Then what would you have me do?" Amos was

nearly shouting now, flapping his arms hard against

his sides.

 

"Something a lot easier. Hold her. Just put your arms

around her and hold her close. You softshells need

that. I never had it so I don't miss it"

 

Amos shifted position, silent

 

"{ would hock my shel^if I could physically comfort

her B ut I can't. I can make sure she gets what she needs

from the one person she'll accept it from. And let me

tell you something, lordling, even to comfort Channa, I

wouldn't want to stay a softshell. You're cripples next to usl

You realize that? We have senses, abilities, that you

can't even begin to imagine. But yes, in this one area, I

am jealous of you. Despite that, I arranged... yes, noble

being that / am... arranged for you to have to stay on

this station to handle all the detaik the Bethelite leader

will have. So that you could also comfort the woman we

both love. There I've said it aloud!

 

"I've done all I can, Amos," and now Simeon's voice was

tinged with a helpless note. "I've been with her since she

was brought to the hospital I haven't left her. When she

wakes up, I wish her good morning and mine is the last

voice she hears at night I'm die one who guides her safely

across a room. I'm the one who tells her that what she's

looking for is a litde to the right I'm the one who makes

sure she gets her meals. I've put up with her bouts of

temper and self-pity and I've talked her through her mo-

ments of panic I'm with her constandy. But you walk into

the room Ñ at long last I might add Ñ and it's like I've

never existed. Did you see her? She lit up like a star going

nova. Andyou have the gall to walk out on her!"

 

Simeon turned the lights back on and Amos

squinted briefly as his vision adjusted.

 

The door opened and Channa raised her head, half-

disbelieving she heard the sound of his step, the

eagerness with which he approached her.

 

"Oh, Amos!" She reached out her arms tentatively

toward him.

 

434

 

AimeMcCaffrzy fc? SJVf. Staling

 

"Ah, Channa," and Amos took her hands and pulled

her into the circle of his arms. This only I may do, he

thought possessively, proudly and yet, because of that

brief darkness, sadly, too, because Simeon would never

 

have this.  *

 

¥

I'm sorry. Forgive me," he whispered, stroking

 

her hair.

 

Channa sobbed once and tried to apologize, the words

stumbling over his, but he stopped her with a kiss.

 

Simeon watched them enter the lounge, but decided

not to follow them. This is going to be tough enough, he

thought, / think I'U work up to it gradually. But wasn't it a

great game I played ?

 

"Before... 1 came to tell you that I must stay longer

on the station than we had thought," Amos said.

"When I must return to Bethel..."

 

"Stay?" and the gladness in her face and voice reas-

sured Arnos as no argument from Simeon ever would,

how much Channa did indeed love him.

 

"Stay ... for now," he said, trailing caressing fingers

around her lovely face. This, too, I may do that he caTtnot.

 

"For now?" Then a return of her deep and genuine

fear caught at his heart.

 

"I must return to Bethel," he said slowly. "I have

obligations there."

 

"I have them here. I can't leave Simeon or Joat,"

Channa said piteously.

 

And Amos knew that she also meant these quarters

which she knew even in her blindness, and this station

which was surely now as much her heart's home as

Bethel was his.

 

"Neither can I leave my people, my planet Nor do I ask

such sacrifice of you," he said, using die force of his per-

sonality to reassure her. He smiled down at her, thumbs

caressing the velvety skin of her temples. She searched his

face with her fingertips and smiled in response.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

435

 

"But several times in every year, I must return to this

station on the business of my people and my world," he

went on. "That, I may in all conscience do." A wry

shrug. "If my people cannot do without their prophet

now and then, then I will not have taught them well.

Perhaps the day will c&ne when they need no man to

stand between them and God, and I will be free to raise

my horses and roses in peace."

 

Her face lit. "And I could visit sometimes, couldn't

I?" she murmured.

 

"With Joat," Amos said, and then in a far more per-

suasive and loving tone, "although it is not well for a

child to be alone, without brothers and sisters..."

 

"Yes," she laughed as she sensed the change in his

stance, falling formally to one knee but before he

would speak. She held him upright with her hands.

 

"In a matter such as this, I should ask permission of

your father," Amos said, rising and drawing her close.

"But Simeon will do."

 

She fisted him lightly under the short ribs. "I'll speak

to Simeon on my own behalf."

 

"We will then both address Simeon the Father. But,"

Amos said in her ear, after a time. "There is one condi-

tion."

 

"What?"

 

"You must never call me Simeon again." She drew her

head back and nodded solemnly. He touched her chin

gently. "You may, however," he went on, wishing for once

that Simeon was listening, "call me Persephone."

 

EPILOGUE

 

The chills were less now, and the survivors recovering,

although a quarter of the crew had died of the fever and more

gone mad.

 

Belazir t'Marid clenched his rattling teeth against a

paroxysm as he fay in the darkened bridge, while the Dreadful

Bride fled outward all alone.

 

"Someday," he whispered.

 

THEEND