If you can’t handle the negotiations, dear, we’d better both report to the gero clinic. Off hand hm. . . well, Aventureros” -the parent company of Chehalis-“certainly could use another big freighter within the Solar System; and with no prospect now of Chinook going starward, why, we might as well put her on charter there.” He snapped his fingers. “Hey, yes, that’d give her the perfect official reason to contact the Ruedas.” Leaning forward, going earnest: “Yes, let’s count on that. Tomorrow you buzz the crewfolk. Speak about a possible trip to Sol on short notice, and invite them here for a conference about it. La Hancock did tell me quite frankly we’d be bugged whenever we had visitors, and jamming at that time would look too suspicious. But you can prepare written summaries to hand out, and all the real talk can be in writing, while harmless things are spoken that you can also have written out beforehand. They’re bright people I picked, quick studies. They’ll put on a convincing show.”
Lis frowned. “Will they necessarily go along with such a risky venture?”
“Well, some may be too law-abiding or something. However, I feel sure that if any refuse, they’ll still be loyal enough that they won’t run off and blab. I didn’t choose them to be my crew on a possible voyage to new planets without getting to know each one of them pretty well.”
“Even so, Aurelia is no fool. If she learns that Chinook is about to leave, she may slap on a hold, on whatever pretext she can think of, just to play safe.”
“Need she know? The Governor General’s office doesn’t usually keep track of spaceship comings and goings. I’ve little doubt you can hit on an arrangement.”
Brodersen hesitated before adding: “Uh, in due course she will grow certain I’ve vamoosed, and quite likely speculate that I was smuggled aboard.
You’ll be in for considerable static, I’m afraid.”
“I can give as good as I get,” she assured him.
He smiled. “Yeah. How well I know. I don’t see how she can make really serious trouble for you without tipping her hand, which she mustn’t. What can she legally prove, except maybe that you helped your husband break out of a dubiously legal custody? And if that came to trial, wow!”
“She might trump up something worse,” Lis said. “Not that I think she’d want to. She’s not basically a cominissar. But she might be ordered to.”
“Our lawyers can drag out any court case for months,” he reminded her.
“By that time, I should’ve gotten the whole stinking business busted to finders.” He frowned. “Of course, if I fail-”
“Don’t worry about me,” she interrupted. “You know I’ll manage.”
Again she grew quiet, standing beside him. “I’ll be afraid on your account,” she said at last.
“Don’t be.” He shifted his pipe and laid an arm around her shoulders.
“Well, since you are bound to go, let’s plan things carefully. For openers, how do we keep in touch?”
“Through Abner Croft,” he proposed. That was among his fictitious personalities. Abner Croft owned a cabin on Lake Artemis, a hundred kilometers hence. His phone possessed more than a scrambler. It had a military gadget Brodersen had learned about on Earth and re-created for himself, as an extra precaution during the Iliadic crisis. A tap on the line would register a banal prerecorded conversation. He and Us had had fun creating several such, using disguises and voder-altered voices. He could get in circuit from any third instrument by requesting a conference call; the switching machinery didn’t care.
“M-hm,” she said. “Where do you expect you’ll actually be?”
“In the Uplands. Logical area, no?”
She paused. “With Caitlin?”
Taken aback because she spoke so gravely, he floundered, “Well, um, that’s where she is this time of year. Everybody local’ll know how to find her, and think it quite natural that an outside visitor would want to hear a few songs of hers. And who else could better keep me concealed, or tell what’s a Side 18
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safe rendezvous in those parts, or. . . or whatever?”
He puffed hard. Lis touched him anew, and now she did not let go.