XXII

Lissa and Valen were in his cabin when the message came. “To the captain,” Dagmar said. “Incoming audio signal on the fifth standard band. Radar touched us sixty seconds ago and is now locked on. Code: ‘Acknowledge and respond.’ Shall I?”

Valen disentangled himself and rose from the bunk. “Do, and relay to me, with translation. Surely a Susaian.” To Lissa, wryly: “I knew this couldn’t last. We’re picking up more powerplant emissions every hour. Somebody was bound to notice ours, and wonder.”

She needed a moment more to swim up from the sweet aftermath of lovemaking. The warmth and odor of him still lingered as she heard “Ship Amethyst, Dominator Ironbright commanding and speaking, to vessel accelerating through Sector Eighty-seven dash eighteen dash zero-one.” That must be Dagmar s best attempt to render the coordinate system established for this locality, she thought. “You do not conform to the plan. Identify yourself.”

“Captain Gerward Valen, from Asborg, Sunniva III, with crew on a scientific mission,” the man stated. “We intend no interference or other harm, and will be glad to cooperate in any reasonable way.”

The last drowsiness fled from Lissa. She glanced at her watch. Silence murmured. She got up too. The deck felt sensuously resilient beneath her bare feet, but remote, no longer quite real.

Twenty-eight seconds before response. If Ironbright hadn’t hesitated, his(?) craft was four million-plus kilometers away. “Your presence is inadmissable. This region is closed. Remove yourselves.”

Lissa bent over the intercom control and pushed for Orichalc’s cubicle. “We are not aware of any such interdiction,” Valen was saying. “By what right do you declare it? It seems to be in violation both of treaty agreements and general custom.”

“Orichalc,” Lissa whispered. “They’re on to us. At least one ship. They command we turn back. Listen in, and tell us what you think.”

“S-s-s,” the fugitive breathed.

“The Dominance of the Great Confederacy has taken sovereignty,” Ironbright said. “Under its policy and in its name, I order you to return to clear space immediately and hyperjump hence. Else you are subject to detention and penalties. I warn you, we have weapons. If necessary, we will use them, with regret but without hesitation.”

“I should hope no civilized being would make a threat like that, without even having discussed the matter first,” Valen answered. “Certainly we require more authority than yours. What are your reasons for this demand?”

“He bluffs, I believe,” Orichalc murmured. Given his instinctive sensitivities to his own species, yes, he’d be able to hear that Ironbright, too, was currently in male phase. Valen also leaned close to hear, flank to flank with Lissa. She laid an arm around his waist. “Tell him that the Houses of Asborg would have known if any such claim were registered under the Covenant of Space.”

She noticed the time lag had grown. Dagmar was outrunning Amethyst, if “run” made sense when you spoke of coordinates, vectors, fields, and their derivatives in three-space. Evidently Ironbright thought that switching over to hypertransmission would be more trouble than it was worth. Or did he welcome these moments, to consider what to say? “The Dominance is concerned about safety.” Was he trying to wheedle? “A cosmic cataclysm will soon take place. You are not prepared for it.”

Valen straightened and grinned. “Oh, but we are. That’s why we’re here.” He went on as Orichalc had advised, finishing with: “Since no claim has been assented to, we have as much right as anybody. They know on Asborg where we are, and that you are here. I don’t imagine your colleagues want an interstellar incident.”

Dismay and rage hissed under the incongruous mellowness of Dagmar’s translating voice. “How do you know? What spies have you set on our sacred Nestmother?”

“To the best of my knowledge, none. And I wouldn’t call the concealment of a scientific treasure trove a friendly act. Nor do I suppose other spacefaring societies, including the other Susaian nations, will so regard it. I repeat, we mean no harm or interference. We hope your chief of operations will contact us when your officers have conferred and decided on a proposal intended to be mutually satisfactory. I respectfully suggest, and ask you to convey the suggestion, that they start thinking at once.”

“Good,” oozed from Orichalc’s cubicle. “Firmness and correctness, after Ironbright faltered in both. The grand commander should well evaluate the playback of this conversation.”

“Signing off, then,” the Susaian captain grimly. “You shall receive more soon.” Lissa heard an abrupt absence of background sounds she had not noticed before.

“You did it! Whee, you did!” She leaped at Valen, threw her arms around his neck, kicked heels in air. “I love you!”

“We’ve just begun, and God knows what’ll happen next.” She let go and he activated the general intercom. “Attention. Urgent news.”

“We’re busy, for Founder’s sake!” Esker exclaimed, obviously from the main lab.

“Too busy for the Susaians?”

“Huh? Oh. Carry on, you,” to the assistants. “A minute.… All right. Tell me.”

Valen did. “We’re leaving them behind, you say,” the physicist answered. “They’re doubtless unarmed anyway.”

“Unless that fellow was lying, they do have some combat-worthy units. And messages must be flying from end to end of their fleet.”

“The farther in we go,” Dagmar reminded, “the smaller the volume of ambient space and therefore the more difficult evasion becomes. It is certainly incompatible with keeping station.”

“I’ll bet you’re better armed than anything they’ve got here,” Esker said. “Stand up to the stinking lizards. Make them crawl.”

“Orichalc,” Valen sighed, “may we have your opinion, and your pardon for that language?”

“My guess is that naval strength is small and incidental, confined to two or three craft whose real task is to help out in emergencies,” replied calmness—or steely self-control? “Granted, the command will consider our advent an emergency. If they do possess superior force, they will probably threaten us with it.”

“They don’t,” Esker said. “I swear they don’t. Fight. Blow ’em out of the universe.”

Lissa remembered violent deaths she had witnessed. It was like a benediction when Valen responded, “Only in self-defense, and only as an absolute last resort. I don’t want to hear any more such talk. Go back to your studies. Let me know if a worthwhile thought occurs to you.” He switched off.

Turning to Lissa, he took her hands in his. “I’m afraid that henceforward we’re on twenty-four-hour duty.” He smiled the smile that was like Davy’s. “Well, we did luck out on this watch.” He drew her close. The kiss was brief and wistful.

“Memories to look at, whenever we get a moment to pull them out of our pockets,” Lissa agreed. “We’ll enlarge the collection in future.” Abruptly she giggled. “Speaking of pockets, we’d better grab a quick shower and get dressed. It doesn’t make any difference to the Susaians, but we’d scarcely overawe our human shipmates as we are, would we?”

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