TriPoint, a Union Alliance novel by Caroline J. Cherryh

But he was scrubbed, shampooed, shaved, and saner-looking as he shut the bath behind him. He struggled into clean coveralls, remembered the key-card while he was walking his boots on, went back and found it on his dirty coveralls, clipped it on one-handed as he opened the door onto the lower main corridor. Ship is stable meant no take-holds expected, no clip-lines required, and he made a dash down-ring to the lift. Crew was coming and going, likewise at speed when they had to cross the ship’s axis. Somebody for sure had reported ill: he could see the infirmary lit and the door open, down the positive curve of the deck.

But Com had ordered him specifically to the bridge, see the captain, and bridge it was—he found the lift idle on rimside level and rode it up, a good deal calmer in that ride, now that he wasn’t jump-rattled and half-asleep—but uneasy, still, mind spinning around and around the handful of guesses his experience afforded him.

The lift clanked into lock and let out into the dim grey plastics-and-computer light environment of the bridge. Heads turned, senior cousins interrupting their work to stare as he walked through, the way people stared at victims of mass calamities.

Which didn’t help his nerves at all. But his first glance accounted for his whole personal universe of relatives he cared about: his mother, Marie, stood in the middle of the bridge, talking to Mischa. Mischa was sitting at the main console. Marie and the captain were sister and brother; and Marie was clearly all right—but what Marie was doing on the bridge during approach was another question.

God, what had he done that rated Mischa calling Marie up from the cargo office?

“Sir,” he said, feeling like an eight-year-old criminal, “ma’am.”

“Station schema just came in.” Mischa tapped the screen in front of him, a schematic of Viking station and its berths, same as any such diagram the outsystem buoy delivered them when they dropped into system. He didn’t understand at first blink, or second, since he had nothing reasonably to do with that input or the system that put it up.

Mischa said, “Corinthian. Austin Bowe’s in port.”

Hit him in the gut, that did. He couldn’t look at Marie. Mischa pointed to a certain berth on the station schema. “They’re scheduled for undock nine days from now, we’re in for fifteen days’ turnaround, and we’ll make dock tomorrow morning. Figure right now that there’ll be ample time after he’s left to do any personal touring you want to do around that berth. I’m giving an absolute order, here, that applies to you, Marie, and you, Tom, and everyone in this crew. No contact, no communication with Corinthian in any way, shape, or form that doesn’t go through me, personally. We can’t afford trouble. I’m sure Corinthian doesn’t want it either. I swear to you, I’m not going to look the other way on this, Marie. On government contract, we’ve no latitude here, none, do you read me clear on that?”

“Perfectly clear, “ Marie said. Too cheerful by far, Tom thought. Marie’s calm ran cold fingers up and down his spine. “Bygones can be bygones—unless, of course, Austin Bowe comes onto our dock.”

“I don’t like that attitude, Marie. I’ve half a mind to hold you and him and the whole crew aboard until he’s out of here. And nobody’s going to be real damn happy with you if that’s what I have to do.”

“And how would that look? You want Viking saying we’re afraid of him?”

“Viking, hell. I’ll lay odds no stationer here remembers any problem between us and them.”

“I’ll lay equal odds that ships at dock remember.”

“This is our business. And it is business, Marie. No personal vendetta of any member of this crew is worth our legal standing, and anybody sane is going to understand that. This isn’t the War. The man’s a senior captain now. We’re talking about our entire livelihood at stake.”

“I absolutely agree. I don’t see a problem.”

Lying through her teeth, Tom thought again, hands locked behind him, face absolutely neutral. Mischa knew Marie was lying, and couldn’t get her to engage with him.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *