The podded reaction engines were snugged into hollows while the Empress maneuvered in a gravity well. They drove the vessel in sponge space, fed and maintained by the Cold Crew while everyone else was safe in the starship’s insulated interior.
The limousine grated to a halt at the guard kiosk. A canopy clamped over the vehicle, sealing it from the North Polar elements. The driver’s-side window withdrew before Hilda touched the control. An attendant in civilian clothes with an identibox on her left shoulder leaned into the opening.
“Lady Hilda Bernsdorf,” Hilda said coolly. She stared directly at the identibox. “Meeting Count Bernsdorf, a passenger on the Empress of Earth.”
“Randall Park Colville,” Ran said. He blinked involuntarily, though he knew the tiny burst of laser light which painted his retinas was of too low an intensity for him to notice. “Reporting for duty as junior staff lieutenant aboard the Empress of Earth.”
There was a brief zeep from the attendant’s shoulder. “Milady, sir,” she said as she straightened. “Thank y—”
The closing window cut off the last of the perfunctory phrase. If Port Northern’s data bank had not cleared the occupants’ identifications, or if sensors had indicated anything doubtful within the vehicle, the limousine would have been shunted into a holding facility hardened against nuclear weapons before the check proceeded.
“Ran,” Lady Bernsdorf said. She was facing the windshield as the limousine staged through the double airlocks which protected Port Northern against the elements. Hoarfrost formed despite the static charge of the dome covering the port facilities. It zigged like frozen lightning against the auroral pastels.
Ran looked down at his companion. “Milady?”
“We agreed that this was only for a few days,” Hilda went on in a controlled voice. “That we’d never try to see each other again. Because it was too dangerous.”
Ran thought he understood at last why Hilda had been so tense ever since they got up in the morning to make the drive. “Oh, milady,” he said gently. She still wouldn’t look at him.
He leaned over the console and kissed her rigid cheek. “Did you think I was going to wreck your life? Oh, love, I’m not that sort. You’ve honored me greatly with your company. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Least of all cause you problems with your husband.”
The limousine halted in its assigned space—less than ten meters from the VIP entrance to the passenger terminal. Ran pressed the door release. The panel shrank from an impervious sheet to a centimeter-thick block resting on the lower coaming.
He got out. He thought Hilda had started to say something, but when he looked back she was still seated, and her eyes were straight ahead.
Ran stretched. Passengers and the uniformed but unarmed doorman glanced at him—a young man of middle height, in the white uniform of a Staff Side officer of Trident Starlines. Men on Bifrost were rangy rather than solid, but no one who had ever seen a Bifrost Cold Crew riot doubted the strength—or the ruthlessness—of those who came from that bitter world on the fringe of civilization.
The atmosphere of the parking area was slightly warmer than that set by the limousine’s climate control. It contained vague tinges of lubricant and ozone from the vehicular traffic. At the distant rear of the lot, a monorail hissed to a halt and began transferring the normal mass of passengers and visitors to the slideways that would take them within the building.
Ran looked up through the cleardome of Port Northern. For a moment, all he could see was steam roiling in patterns of compression and rarefaction from the thrust that balanced the starliner’s huge mass.
The view cleared abruptly. The motors of the tugs and starship had blasted away all the condensate on the landing field.
The Empress of Earth hung poised a few meters from touching the ground: 800 meters long, 150 meters across the diameter of her cylindrical hull; built to the precision of an astronomical dock despite her enormous mass.
The highest expression of technology within the known universe . . . and Ran Colville was an officer aboard her.
He straightened his cap. He considered throwing it in the air, but he’d gotten this far by not putting a foot wrong professionally. He wasn’t going to jeopardize his chances of getting much farther.