battle zone; she could not tell.
Nausea hit again. It came and went. She swallowed several times in calm
determination to ignore it, turned a jaundiced eye on Neihart, who had left the
controls of the ship to his son and came to see to her.
“Got a proposition,” she said between swallows. “You let me have com again. No
running from here. Take a look at what’s following us, captain. Most of the
merchanters that ever ran freight for Company stations. That’s a lot of us,
isn’t it? And if we want to, we can reach further than that.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“That we stand up and safeguard our own interests. That we start asking
ourselves hard questions before we scatter out of here. We’ve lost the stations
we served. So do we let Union swallow us up, dictate to us… because we become
outmoded next to their clean new state-run ships? And they could take that idea
into their heads if we come to them begging license to serve their stations. But
while things are uncertain, we’ve got a vote and a voice, and I’m betting some
of the so-named Union merchanters can see what’s ahead too, clear as we can. We
can stop trade—all worlds, all stations—we can shut them down. Half a century of
being pushed around, Neihart, half a century of being mark for any warship not
in the mood to regard our neutrality. And what do we get when the military has
it all? You want to give me com access?”
Neihart considered a long moment. “When it goes sour, Quen, word will spread far
and wide what ship spoke out for it. It’s trouble for us.”
“I know that,” Elene said hoarsely. “But I’m still asking it.”
“You’ve got com if you want it.”
iv
Pell: Blue Dock; aboard Norway; 2400 hrs. md.; 1200 hrs. a.
Signy turned restlessly and came up against a sleeping body, a shoulder, an
inert arm. Who it was she did not remember for a moment, in her half-asleep
confusion. Graff, she decided finally, Graff. She settled comfortably again,
against him. They had come offshift together. She kept her eyes open on the dark
wall for a moment, the row of lockers, in the starlight glow of the light
overhead—not liking the images she saw against her lids, the remembered reek of
dying in her nostrils, that she could not bathe away.
They held Pell. Atlantic and Pacific made their lonely patrol with all the
riders in the fleet, so that they dared sleep. She earnestly wished it were
Norway on patrol. Poor Di Janz was in command over the docks, sleeping in the
forward access when he got sleep at all. Her troops were scattered throughout
the docks, in a dark mood. Seventeen wounded and nine killed in the Q outbreak
did not improve their attitude. They would stand watch one shift on and the
other off and keep on doing it. Beyond that, she made no plans. When the Union
ships came in, they would come, and the Fleet would react as they had been doing
in places of odds as bad as this… fire at the reachable targets and keep the
remaining options open as long as possible. Mazian’s decision, not hers.
She closed her eyes finally, drew a deliberately peaceful breath. Graff stirred
against her, settled again, a friendly presence in the dark.
v
Pell: sector blue one, number 0475; 2400 hrs. md.; 1200 hrs. a.
“She sleep,” Lily said. Satin drew in a breath and settled her arms about her
knees. They had pleased Sun-her-friend; the Dreamer had wept for joy to hear the
news that Bluetooth had brought, the Konstantin-man and his friend safe… so, so
awesome the sight of tears on that tranquil face. All the hisa’s hearts had hurt
within them until they understood it was happiness… and a warmth had sat within
the dark and lively eyes, that they had crowded close to see. Love you, the
Dreamer had whispered, love you every one. And: Keep him safe.
Then at last she smiled, and closed her eyes.
“Sun-shining-through-clouds.” Satin nudged Bluetooth and he who had been
zealously grooming himself—trying vainly to bring order to his coat, for respect