Regeneration (Czerneda) (39 page)

Out of habit, Mac felt her pocket for her own, making sure it was there. Fourteen hadn’t changed his light-fingered ways. She’d asked him once why he continued to acquire the more portable belongings of others, especially since each would shortly turn up in a pile on whatever work surface he was using.
Where everyone learned to look first for missing socks.
The Myg had only smiled. The rest had grown resigned to him.

Except Mudge. Occasionally his outrage would overcome his better sense, and he’d dart in, sweep up the pile, and return the spoils to their rightful owners. Such recoveries held their unique risk, since the Myg, delighted by Mudge’s fury, began hiding a noxious surprise in each pile and lurking nearby to watch. The results had been pretty entertaining, although she’d had to speak to Fourteen about permanent dyes.

Mac sighed.
Those were the days.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Captain Gillis and Townee entered with quick strides, as if to prove they’d hurried from wherever. Another Human came in behind the officers, not a member of the crew by his casual clothes and instant Mudge-like attention to the bridge.

Mac waited for them to take the opposite end of the table, to obtain maximum impact from glaring at her down its polished length, but the captain of the
Joy
sat beside Mudge instead. Townee took the seat beside Fourteen. Meanwhile, the stranger wandered to the transparent wall and stood gazing at the activity there, as if he wasn’t part of the meeting at all.

That was an option?
She wished she’d known.

“Our new passengers are making themselves at home,” Captain Gillis began. He now appeared more preoccupied than upset.
Something had changed,
Mac thought. “We’ve received some clarification,” the captain confirmed. “Ureif—more specifically, his Iode-self—is a transect ship engineer of note and will assist Dr. Norris,” a nod to the man still gazing out at the bridge, “in determining what happened to the Dhryn derelicts once we reach Myriam. We’re told this Sinzi has particular expertise with their technology.”

“Ureif is the Sinzi-ra for Myriam,” Mac guessed.

Townee was frowning, but not at her. “Fy assumes that duty. She’ll be assessing the state of the gate and monitoring all traffic. Ureif is apparently Sinzi-ra over . . .” she waved her hands to encompass their surroundings “. . . the
Joy
.”

“Not,” Gillis said rather glumly, “that anyone in the Ministry can tell us precisely what that means.”

Fourteen looked up, his pudgy hand slicing through all his ’screens to close them at once. “The presence of a Sinzi contingent establishes your ship as a place of significance, Captain Gillis. Ureif will not assert any control or interfere with you—but all Sinzi will pay very close attention to what happens here.”

“He’s a spy?” Townee pressed her palms flat on the table as she surged to her feet. “Captain, we can’t permit any passenger to report on internal ship business, let alone how we carry out our orders!”

“Those orders include full cooperation with the IU and the joint investigation into the Dhryn,” Gillis said mildly, tapping the table with his forefinger. He appeared thoughtful.

Although she sat back down, from her scowl Mac doubted Townee was finished.
Sure enough.
“Captain. At least let me make adjustments to our security—”

“Idiot!” Fourteen interrupted. “The Sinzi have never taken such a bold step before. That should tell you how high the stakes have become. These are beings of immense
strobis
! Your security is irrelevant. Bah! You are irrelevant!”

“Not helping,” Mac whispered at him.

“Dr. Connor?”

She swung her head back to the captain, feeling like a student caught peeking at a fellow’s exam. “Yes?”

“But, Captain . . .”

“Enough.” Said quietly, but Townee subsided without another word. “Dr. Connor,” the captain continued, “clearly Rumnor and his people knew the Sinzi were coming.”

“I didn’t,” she said warily, guessing where this was going.

“I could tell.” Gillis smiled. “No one’s that good an actor.” His smile faded. “Yet this is the second time today I’m faced with an unexplained connection between you, Dr. Connor, and arguably the most important species within the IU. No offense, but what’s going on? Aren’t you just a translator?”

“So I’m told,” Mac agreed, beginning to see the poor captain’s dilemma. Like the Frow, he was doing his best to find and navigate a rational chain of command.
Shame she couldn’t offer one.
“Though most of the time I’m a biologist. This is only my second trip away from Earth.”

Norris turned to face her. “Your first was aboard the Dhryn freighter
Pasunah.
”

“Yes. I provided a description.”

He had a long face, the sort that finished puberty with middle-aged jowls and, in some personalities, laugh lines.
Didn’t appear to have any of those.
His thick black hair was mussed, as if he hadn’t noticed it yet this morning. His clothes were creased in odd places, implying they’d spent too much time packed.

“I’ve read your account, Dr. Connor,” Norris said in a dismissive voice. He took a seat one away from Townee, as if needing space—
or a stage,
Mac grumbled to herself. He leaned back and steepled his fingers. “We’ll have to see if you can recall anything useful.”

Mac’s lips twisted. “Have you been on a Dhryn ship, Dr. Norris?”

“I’m thoroughly conversant with the technical specifications of every transect-capable—”

“That would be ‘no,’ ” she observed, her tone pleasant.

Mudge gave her a stern
not helping
look.

Mac ignored it. She recognized Norris’ type. Academia let them flower in high-ceilinged rooms, with coffee machines down the hall. They published like clockwork and judged those around them accordingly. Fieldwork? That was for unproven grad students, who somehow never made it on the final author list.

Last conference, hip-checked one into an ornamental pond,
she remembered fondly.
Landed knees up, covered with mud and lily pads.

“Is the
Pasunah
one of the derelicts?” she asked, fervently hoping not.

“You’ll have ample time to discuss Dhryn ships later,” Captain Gillis interposed. “What can you tell me about the Sinzi on my ship?” His eyes locked on Mac.

She quickly lifted both hands to show they were empty.

Gillis nodded and shifted his attention. “Arslithissiangee Yip the Fourteenth?”

“You may call me Fourteen, good captain,” the Myg replied expansively, the forks of his white tongue showing briefly, as if savoring the sound of his full name. “Of course I know a great deal more. Ureif? By reputation. Don’t insult him. Fy? Appalling youth for a post of importance; her selves—transect engineer Faras and student Yt—at their first accommodation. She must possess unusual gifts and/or experience to be so trusted. But Ureif?” His half buried eyes assumed their sly look, the one Mac knew meant he was anticipating their reaction. “You have on board, Captain Gillis, the former Sinzi-ra of Haven—and the Dhryn.”

There had to be one,
she thought numbly. The Sinzi not only maintained the gates, they acted as interspecies’ oil, easing potential frictions, soothing conflicts before they escalated.

But on Haven?
“I was there,” she blurted. “There was no mention of a Sinzi-ra.” She wasn’t sure why she felt betrayed.

“Idiot,” Fourteen said fondly. “Once the Dhryn had established a colony in another system, they applied to the Sinzi to exclude alien traffic from their home. Other species do the same . . . some to protect their biology, some because they realize their boring homes are not worth visiting and they wish to avoid embarrassment when tourists want their funds returned. Idiots! Never advertise a ‘remarkable dining experience’ when you can’t cook—”

“Fourteen,” Mac growled.

His pale lips formed a charming pout. “Always so serious.”

She’d strangle him later.
“Please.”

“The Dhryn stayed within their systems, with only minor trade outside their territory. One consulate was more than sufficient. The office of Haven’s Sinzi-ra was moved to the Dhryn’s first and ultimately largest colony. A consulate Ureif closed when it became clear the Dhryn had abandoned their worlds for good.”

Mac’s lips formed the name she couldn’t bring herself to say.
Cryssin.

Brymn’s home.

“Seems you’re in luck, Dr. Norris,” Townee observed. “Ureif will have firsthand knowledge of your derelicts.”

Ureif must have known him,
Mac thought feverishly. Brymn had been one of the very few Dhryn who regularly traveled to alien worlds; his research had been widely published in Instella.
There would have been discussions, arrangements, briefings on alien—on Human—behavior.
Brochures.

She had a brief, dizzying insight into how being with her, the last one to see Brymn before his transformation, might feel to Ureif. Add to that traveling with her to the site of Brymn’s death, in the presence of ships from Haven?

Mac allowed herself a moment of smug.
It wasn’t
all
her fault
.

Captain Gillis drummed his fingers lightly on the table, as if encouraging them back on topic.
It seemed his habit.
“Fourteen. What do you know of Ureif’s selves?”

“Ulor, Rencho, Eta, Iode, and Filt,” Fourteen listed promptly. “Ulor is the transect engineer. Rencho, consulate administrator and a sculptor of some renown, among Sinzi at least. Eta is a mathematician—not up to my brilliance, of course, but formidable. Iode, the ship engineer, you know. Filt?” Mac wondered if she were the only one to catch the slight hesitation before the Myg concluded, “The one to watch.”

“Why?”

“Because, Captain, you host none other than the newly elected Speaker for the IU Inner Council.”

If Gillis had wanted to establish a chain of command, he had one now.
Judging by the green hue to his cheeks,
Mac thought,
its links were a little bigger than he’d anticipated.

Fourteen was doing his utmost to appear bored. Not believing that for an instant, Mac took a cautious sniff.
Ah, someone else wasn’t too calm about this “Filt” on board.

“And you just happen to know all this,” said Townee, trading glances with her captain. “How?”

“Irrelevant,” Fourteen answered, folding his arms over his chest.

“Captain,” she continued, ignoring the Myg, “we’re having more than enough security issues. I strongly recommend we wait for confirmation from a more—official—source before we act on any of this.”

Mudge, beside Mac, rubbed his nose, but stopped short of covering it. “Confirm, of course,” he said, “but, much as it pains me, I must vouch for our colleague’s ability to find the most obscure or private information in minutes. I wouldn’t delay necessary actions because he’s obnoxious.”

“Charlie!” Fourteen crowed with laughter and bounced in his chair, arms waving. “ ‘Obnoxious!’ That’s wonderful. As for you—” he snapped his fingers at Townee, a recent accomplishment of which he was very proud, “—and your security?”
Snap.
“Irrelevant! Irrelevant! I had your ship’s logs and records open within five minutes of boarding. Idiots.” He sat back with a smile that could only be called blissful.

Really not helping,
Mac winced.

She glanced at the
Joy’s
most senior officers and saw the stunned, then furious expressions she expected. Even Norris looked alarmed.

“Don’t worry. He’s with me,” she said, before the uproar could start.
Or armed guards arrive to cause an interstellar incident.

“I was hoping not to need this,” she added, almost to herself.

Mac took a blue-and-green envelope, barred in gold, from her pocket. She flicked it along the polished table.

Captain Gillis stopped it with a slap of his hand. She watched him stare at the words crawling over the face of the envelope.
Her name.
Giving her a very strange look indeed, he showed the envelope to Townee before sliding it back.

Mac put it away, along with any hesitation. “Whatever else you’ve been told about us—about me, Captain—we aren’t subject to Human, or Myg, or even Sinzi authority. All on my team have agreed to work for the Interspecies Union. While Fourteen should have asked before dipping into your files—” she said with a glare at the being in question, who grinned back, thoroughly unrepentant, “—he did nothing outside our mandate. Earthgov and the Ministry have pledged full, unquestioned support of IU efforts to resolve the crisis, have they not?” She waited for and received Gillis’ slow nod. “Those would be our efforts, Captain, among others. As for what that means to you and your ship?”

Her lips found the smile that gave grad students fits before a test.
She hated meetings anyway.

“Thanks for the lift,” Mac told the commander of the Ministry’s newest dreadnought. “We’ll let you know what else we may need. Now—I’m sure we all have to get back to work.” She stood.

“Wait! Who do you think you are?” Norris blustered, rising to his feet as well. “You can’t give us orders!” He looked from face to face, as if seeking support. Finding none, he glared at Mac. “You’re just the translator, damn it!”

“Actually,” Mac replied calmly, “I’m just the salmon researcher. But I’ll do my best. I expect the same from you.”

Townee appeared to hide a smile behind her hand.
Norris hadn’t made any friends,
Mac observed without surprise.

Captain Gillis stood and offered a slight bow. “My apologies for any confusion, Dr. Connor. You will, of course, have our full cooperation.”