For Love and Glory

XXIV

Again Dagmar decelerated toward her destination.

Valen, Lissa, and Orichalc entered the saloon together. The physicists were already there, aquiver. Esker leaped to his feet. “Well?” he cried.

“We have leave to proceed.” Valen told them.

Elif gusted out a breath. Noel and Tessa raised a cheer. “Marvelous!” Esker jubilated. “Oh, milady—” He saw her face more closely and broke off.

Valen moved to the head of the table. His companions flanked him. “It was a tough bargaining session,” the woman said.

“I know,” Tessa mumbled. “It went on and on. And when boost came back, and we didn’t know where we were bound—”

“You’ll have your shot at our target,” said Valen. He sat down. The rest who were standing did likewise. Orichalc crouched on the bench. The captain’s gaze sought Esker.

“I couldn’t push my opposite number, Dominator Moonhorn, too hard,” he went on. “She must have been given considerable discretion and choice. That’s usual for Confederacy officers in the field. And mainly, no reinforcements could reach her in time. Even if somebody withdrew to hyperbeam distance and called, and they jumped at once, it’d take them too long to cross the normal-drive distance. The black holes would already have met, and meanwhile we could be playing hob with the Susaians on the scene. And in fact, Dagmar hasn’t detected any new arrivals, which she could do. Still, Moonhorn surely received orders not to give away the store.”

“An officer of the Confederacy who shows cowardice is strangled,” Orichalc said. “One who shows poor judgment is ruined. Over and above these considerations is nest-honor.”

“So I mustn’t leave her with no choice but to attack,” Valen continued. “That would mean a certainty of heavy loss to the Susaians and a better than fifty percent chance of losing everything; though if we won, we might still be crippled. And while the political repercussions wouldn’t be catastrophic, they’d be troublesome. On the other hand, Moonhorn couldn’t, wouldn’t meekly stand aside and let us take all the forbidden fruit we might.

“The fact that we had already taken a good deal, and passed it on to Asborg, weighed heavily. What I had to do was give Moonhorn a way to cut her side’s losses. We dickered—”

Esker’s fist smote the table. “Will you get to the point?” he yelled. “What did you agree to?”

Valen squared his shoulders. “No cooperation, no information exchange,” he said. “That was too much to hope for. But we may take station at the minimum safe distance you want. Congratulations; they’d arrived at almost the identical figure, and had more and better numbers to work with. They have four live-crewed ships there, on the two orthogonal axes you described.

“We must not come any nearer to either axis than—the Susaian units equal about one million kilometers. We must not enter the orbital plane of the black holes at all.”

“What?” Esker sprang back to his feet. He leaned across the table, shuddering. “Why, you— That plane’s where the most vital observations— You clotbrain! Didn’t you ever listen to me? A rotating black hole drags the inertial frame with it. Those two have opposite spins, differently oriented. Cancellations, additions—the whole tendency will be for things to happen, unprecedented things, exactly in that mutual plane—and you threw this away for us!”

“Quiet!” Valen shouted. Into the rage that choked and sputtered at him, he explained in a voice gone flat: “I did know. So did Moonhorn. I asked for a place farther out on the. axis in the plane, or at least somewhere in it. She refused. We went around and around, with me offering different versions, and always it ended in refusal. I couldn’t stop to consult with you, if I’d wanted to. Frankly, I was amazed to get what I did. The minimum radius, only a million kilometers north of the plane. Not quite twenty minutes of arc to sight down along. Does it make any serious difference?”

“Yes,” Esker said as if through a noose. “Plane polarization of generated gravitons is likely, and who can foresee what else? It—it—Captain, you’ve got to renegotiate. You must.”

“No,” Valen stated. “I can’t risk it.”

“The balance in Moonhorn’s mind is certain to be fragile,” Orichalc added. “She may well decide that an attempt to alter the agreement shows bad faith, and feel compelled to give us an ultimatum, that we depart or fight.”

“Then, by God, you give the ultimatum yourself!” Esker flung forth. “They’ll back down. You admit you were surprised at what they did concede. They are weaker than us. We can destroy them, do our research, and be safely homeward bound before they can bring any real warship to bear. And they know it.”

“If I knew for sure we’d win any fight without damage to ourselves,” Valen said, “I still would not risk killing sentient beings for as little as this.”

“Little, you call it? Little? You idiot, you idiot, you—traitor to your race—”

Wrath flashed up in Lissa. She slapped the table. “That will do, client,” she called. “Hold your tongue, or else if the captain doesn’t confine you, I will.”

The eyes into which she looked seemed glazed, blind. “Yes, you would,” Esker raved, “you, his slut. Do you imagine we haven’t seen you two smirk, sneak off, and come back smarmy enough to gag a disposal?”

It isn’t the loss to his science that’s driven him over the edge, she understood, appalled.

Worse came after: “Oh, you’ve got fine taste in men, you do. You pick the great Gerward Valen, the one who ran away at Naia. Have you heard, shipmates? They were evacuating people from a meteoroid bombardment. He lost his nerve and bolted. Now he’s so very tender of lives. How many did you leave to die on Naia, Valen?”

He stopped, stared past them all. A convulsion went through him. He fell back on the bench and buried face in hands.

Silence lasted. His breathing hacked at it. Nobody else moved. Valen’s features had stiffened and bleached, like a dead man’s.

At last, hearing it as if a stranger spoke far away from her, Lissa said, “That’s what you did in your spare time. Worked out a program to slip into the ship’s network. To listen to us, what we discussed in private. And to watch? Isn’t that correct, Dagmar?”

“I have been unaware of it,” the robot brain answered. “I would be, if the program was cleverly designed. Let me search.… There is a new file. Access is blocked to me.”

“I would kill you,” Lissa said. How calm she sounded. “But it isn’t worth the trouble it would cause. And my hands would always be soiled. The authorities will deal with you when you return. Go to your cubicle. Rations will be brought you. You may visit the lavatory at need. Otherwise you are quarantined for the duration of this voyage.”

Esker raised his head. Tears whipped down the coarse cheeks. Sobs went raw. “Milady, I crave pardon, I did evil, scourge me but—but don’t deny me—”

“I told you to go.”

“Wait.” No robot spoke as mechanically as Valen did. “We do need him. For scientific purposes. Without him, we could not learn half as much. Can you continue in the laboratory, Harrolson? If your performance is satisfactory, we will consider entering no charges against you.”

Does a tiny, evil joy flicker? A trial would bring everything out in public. “Y-yes, sir,” Esker hiccoughed. “I’ll do my best. My humble apologies, sir.”

I may have to let you go free, Lissa thought. You’ll have your professional triumph. But never a place on my world. You’ll dwell elsewhere, anywhere else. Aloud: “Dagmar, knowing about the illicit program you can screen it off, can’t you?”

“Certainly,” said the ship. “I will take precautions against further tampering.”

“Not needed, I swear, not needed,” Esker mouthed.

Lissa ignored him. “Good, Dagmar,” she said. “Save the program itself. We might want it for evidence.” Her glance swept around the table. “Shipmates, I’ll be grateful for your silence after we return. Meanwhile, I trust you will carry on, setting this deplorable business aside as much as possible. Now I think Captain Valen and I deserve some privacy. It’s still several hours to destination. We aren’t likely to meet trouble en route.” She rose. “Come, Gerward.”

She must pluck at his sleeve before he got up and followed her.

In his cabin she turned about to cast herself against him. “Oh, darling, darling. Don’t let it hurt you. You mustn’t. That horrible little animal. Can’t gnaw you down. You’re too big.”

He stood moveless, looking past her. She stepped back. “Gerward,” she pleaded, “what does it matter if they know? They also know what you are, what you’ve made of yourself s-s-since then. I do. That’s what counts. Isn’t it?”

He hugged himself and, momentarily, shivered.

“You didn’t run because you were afraid,” she said. “You couldn’t stand seeing the pain, the death. Isn’t that right?”

The reply came rusty. “Is it?”

“And, and you’ve lived it down, whatever it was. You’ve become strong and brave. A man for my pride, Gerward.”

“Have I?”

“I’ll show you!” Again she embraced him, arms, hands, lips, tongue, body. After a while he began to respond.

She led him to the bunk. Nothing happened.

“It’s all right.” She held his head to her breasts. “I understand. Don’t worry. It’s only natural. Come on, boy, cheer up. We’ve got a job waiting for us. The two of us.”

Oh, damn Esker Harrolsson. Damn him down into the bottom of a black hole.