Quiet Knives (9 page)

The largest of the two green persons--sang.
There was a flash! of pinpoint light, a snap! of sound and the
weapon was molten metal, mixing with liquid red.

There was a stifled scream from the crowd; a
shifting of bodies, and then from the crowd, one stepped forward
and bowed.

"I am called Sambra Reallen, Chairman Pro
Tem," she said softly. "How may I serve you, Aged Ones?"

* * *

SKEEDADDLE
WAS WELL AWAY, on course for Clarine, and a chat
with Teyope, should he have actually happened to deliver the cargo
as commissioned. At least, that's what Sambra Reallen knew. It was
the least of what Sambra Reallen knew, and Midj hoped she had joy
of her new status. Talk about being in a position to honor
promises.

"She'll have to be certified by the
department heads." Kore sat down on the edge of the co-pilot's
chair and held out a steaming cup. "'toot?"

"Thanks." She took it, spinning her chair to
face him. She drew a breath, thinking she might be about to say
something, found her mouth dry, and drank some 'toot instead.

"I wanted to say." Kore was holding his cup
between both palms, staring down as if the hot liquid were a
navigation screen.

"I wanted to say--I'm sorry. I had no right
to pull you into that, Midj, knowing what you--and knowing what it
could become. My arrogance. I thought I was ahead of the
trouble."

"Well," she said, softly. And then again,
"Well."

He looked up, amber eyes wary. The black
hair showed some shine of silver, his face marked with the lines of
responsibility and worry.

"Your plan. I mean
your
old
plan. Is
that playing out the way you'd hoped?"

He tipped his head, considering. Had a sip
of 'toot.

"Not exactly. There were compromises needed.
Somehow, I hadn't thought of there needing to be compromises. Some
good people died, and I never meant that. Justice..." The ghost of
a laugh. "Justice isn't always easy to cipher. I didn't expect that
at all." He sighed.

"That said--we've made progress. In some
direction. We've introduced another player into the game, and
another set of rules. Is that a good thing, a bad thing, or a
null-value?" He shrugged. "Don't know."

Right.

Midj sipped her 'toot; used her chin to
point at the board.

"Course is set for Clarine; it's easy to
change, if you're expected somewhere. Or I can set you down where
you say. Or you can stay on."

There, it was out in the open.

Kore was looking at her like he thought
hard.

"Stay on?"

"If you want to." The cup of 'toot trembeled
a bit in her hand, belying her attempt at a casual tone.

She cleared her throat and met his eyes
square. "Thinking over it all--I had the idea we'd been a damn good
team, Kore. Had the idea we might be again, if you're wantin'
it."

She felt a moment of panic
then--a moment brought on in part by twenty years of the voice in
her head nagging at her in odd moments telling her
He joined up with his eyes open,
Midj
--
they'll
never let him go
--"That is, "she said with
a challenge, "if you want it and if they'll
let
you..."

A pause, getting long while he--and
she--sipped at their cups. Then....

"There isn't anything I want more," Kore
said slowly.

"But I--Midj, maybe we need to do this in
stages. First, I gotta get back to the Judge. I've got to let him
know where I am, how it is with me. And--I'd like you to meet him.
Talk with him."

Meet the Juntava who had stolen away Kore
and twenty years of their life? She felt the anger rise--shook it
off as he kept talking.

"Then, well, I got a couple standard years
of vacation time coming. We could go somewhere... like maybe
Panore."

He favored her suddenly with a grin that
made her sway as she laughed.

"A couple years vacation? On Panore, is it?
What did you do? Loot the strongbox?"

His grin faded; and Midj
felt a chill.
Suppose he had looted the
joint
?

"Nah," he admitted wryly, "I didn't. It's
just that I never really took much time off. I mean the Judge
project, it kept me pretty busy. And..."

"But Panore? I'd have thought you'd forgot
that..."

He shook his head then, and snorted a quiet
laugh, and kind of talked into his cup for a minute like he was
afraid, or too shy, to look at her.

"Nah. I always
did
mean to get out to
Panore, you know. And I always kept hoping there'd be some way I
could maybe get you to go with me. So when I got a chance, I put
some of my money into a condo-building out there... one unit's
mine. "

He looked up, caught the look of amaze that
had left her mouth half open. She felt the words spill out
unbidden.

"What? Panore's for fatcats! Do you have any
idea of what it costs to live on a place like that? I, I..."

He signed a quick
yes
in pilot's hand-talk
as he finished his 'toot.

"So yeah, I do know. But now that you
brought it up, why don't we find us a cargo or two that'll take us
out that way, make sure we can still work together. Then, we can
make sure we can still play together."

He put the cup down, unexpectedly reached
his hand to hers. "Tell me it's a deal, and I'll sign the book as
co-pilot right now, if you like. "

"Deal," she said, and squeezed his hand
before pulling the logbook out on its trip tray.

* * * * * *

About the Authors

Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
live in the rolling hills of Central Maine with three insistent
muses in the form of cats, and a large cast of characters. Best
known for their work in the Liaden Universe®, Lee and Miller have
seen published seventeen collaborative novels. Baen Books
(www.baen.com) is currently releasing all of the Liaden novels in
several omnibus volumes. The next original Liaden novel,
Ghost Ship
, will be
published in August 2011.