Val turned to David. “Why did you do that?” she demanded. “You’re the most cowardly creature I’ve ever met!”
“He’s my friend,” replied Copperfield.
“You wouldn’t have lasted five seconds.”
“I know.”
Cole, still semiconscious, was propped up on a chair, with Sharon tending to his wounds. A pair of bystanders half-walked, half-carried Perez to the
Teddy R
’s infirmary.
When his head cleared somewhat, Cole reached out and laid a hand on Copperfield’s shoulder.
“Thank you, David,” he mumbled. “I know the effort that took.”
“You’re not even a member of the crew,” said Val, frowning in puzzlement. “And still you risked your life.”
“Steerforth is an honorable man, one of the few,” answered Copperfield. “What better reason is there?”
“And Perez, who wouldn’t fight for a share of the millions we were being paid, attacked Csonti for free,” she continued, staring at Cole. “For
you
.”
Cole stared blearily up at her. “I hope you don’t expect me to say I’m unworthy of it.” He attempted a wry smile, but winced in pain instead.
“Actually, that’s exactly what I expected you to say.”
“Well, if push comes to shove, I
am
unworthy of it.”
“The hell you are!” said Sharon, still tending to the gash on his forehead. “Almost every member of the
Teddy R
would have done the same thing if they’d been here.”
“But
why
?” demanded Val, puzzled and clearly distressed. “I’m the only one on Singapore Station who was never in any danger from Csonti. He would have killed anyone else he faced.”
“If you don’t know, I can’t tell you,” said Sharon.
Val was silent, lost in thought, for a full minute. Finally she spoke: “Perez can have the
Red Sphinx
back. And get the Teroni his own ship. I’m coming back as Third Officer. Until I understand why David and Perez would do what they did for you, and how to get my crew to do it for me, I’ve got a lot more to learn from you.”
“I’ll decide who’s my Third Officer,” said Cole.
“You’re right,” she said. “I’m here to learn, not to give you orders. I was out of line, and I apologize.”
“Say that again?”
“I said I apologize.”
There was a brief silence.
“Welcome to the ranks of the adults,” said Cole, just before he passed out. “Third Officer.”
33
Cole had the ship’s communications system upgraded so that messages from the other twenty-seven ships could get through immediately and not have to wait in line.
The most powerful of the new ships was the
Silent Dart
, and Cole put Jacovic in charge of it. Perez was given the
Red Sphinx
. David Copperfield and the Platinum Duke began pooling their contacts and came up with a couple of sweet, high-paying jobs, and the
Teddy R
and its companions were preparing to take off on the first of them.
“It’s not as easy as you’d think, finding work for what is fast becoming a legitimate fleet,” Copperfield was explaining to Cole as they both sat in the
Teddy R
’s mess hall. “Ninety-eight percent of the jobs simply don’t require anywhere near this many ships, and the ones that do are often beyond the client’s ability to pay.”
“That’s what we have you for, David,” said Cole, who bore a fresh scar on his forehead above his left eye.
“Well, the Duke and I,” replied Copperfield. “We’ve decided to become partners.”
“In all things?” asked Cole.
“No, just as your business agents, Steerforth,” answered the alien. “Though I would dearly love to become a partner in Singapore Station, especially since you decreed that it is now our official headquarters.”
“I’m sure you can buy into a couple of the gambling joints,” said Cole.
“I already have.”
Cole smiled. “Somehow I’m not surprised.” He paused. “You could have stayed back at the station, you know.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Copperfield. “You know you’d be lost without me.”
“If you say so.”
Val’s image popped into view. “Sir,” she said, “we’re ready to take off.”
“Fine,” said Cole. “Pass the word to the fleet and let’s get this show on the road.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, as her holograph vanished.
“Did you hear that, David?” said Cole, smiling. “She called me ‘sir.’ Twice.”
“Even the immortal Charles couldn’t account for every miracle,” replied Copperfield.
“I’m looking forward to these next two missions,” said Cole as the
Teddy R
slowly moved away from the dock. “We’re at full strength, everyone’s healthy, we’ve got a legitimate fleet behind us, we’re got the Commander of the Fifth Teroni Fleet on our side, we’ve even got the Valkyrie back.”
“You sound exceptionally proud, Steerforth,” said Copperfield.
“I am. For an outlaw ship that’s wanted by every government in the galaxy, we’ve come a long way.”
“Need I remind you what goeth before a fall, my old school chum?”
“Spare me your platitudes, David,” said Cole. “Look at what we’ve already accomplished against much greater odds than we figure to face this week.” He emptied his coffee cup. “We started out as one lone ship. Now we’ve got twenty-seven, run by some damned good officers, and we’ve got the firepower to stand up to just about anything we find on the Frontier. What
could
go wrong?”
If there was, as old spacehands believed, a sardonic Galactic Spirit, it must have laughed aloud at that line.
APPENDIXES
Appendix One
THE ORIGIN OF THE BIRTHRIGHT UNIVERSE
I
t happened in the 1970s. Carol and I were watching a truly awful movie at a local theater, and about halfway through it I muttered, “Why am I wasting my time here when I could be doing something really interesting, like, say, writing the entire history of the human race from now until its extinction?” And she whispered back, “So why don’t you?” We got up immediately, walked out of the theater, and that night I outlined a novel called
Birthright: The Book of Man
, which would tell the story of the human race from its attainment of faster-than-light flight until its death eighteen thousand years from now.
It was a long book to write. I divided the future into five political eras—Republic, Democracy, Oligarchy, Monarchy, and Anarchy—and wrote twenty-six connected stories (“demonstrations,”
Analog
called them, and rightly so), displaying every facet of the human race, both admirable and not so admirable. Since each is set a few centuries from the last, there are no continuing characters (unless you consider Man, with a capital
M
, the main character, in which case you could make an argument—or at least,
I
could—that it’s really a character study).
I sold it to Signet, along with another novel, titled
The Soul Eater
. My editor there, Sheila Gilbert, loved the Birthright Universe and asked me if I would be willing to make a few changes to
The Soul Eater
so that it was set in that future. I agreed, and the changes actually took less than a day. She made the same request—in advance, this time—for the four-book Tales of the Galactic Midway series, the four-book Tales of the Velvet Comet series, and
Walpurgis III
. Looking back, I see that only two of the thirteen novels I wrote for Signet were
not
set there.
When I moved to Tor Books, my editor there, Beth Meacham, had a fondness for the Birthright Universe, and most of my books for her—not all, but most—were set in it:
Santiago
,
Ivory
,
Paradise
,
Purgatory
,
Inferno
,
A Miracle of Rare Design
,
A Hunger in the Soul
,
The Outpost
, and
The Return of Santiago
.
When Ace agreed to buy
Soothsayer
,
Oracle
, and
Prophet
from me, my editor, Ginjer Buchanan, assumed that of course they’d be set in the Birthright Universe—and of course they were, because as I learned a little more about my eighteen-thousand-year, two-million-world future, I felt a lot more comfortable writing about it.
In fact, I started setting short stories in the Birthright Universe. Two of my Hugo winners—“Seven Views of Olduvai Gorge” and “The 43 Antarean Dynasties”—are set there, and so are perhaps fifteen others.
When Bantam agreed to take the Widowmaker trilogy from me, it was a foregone conclusion that Janna Silverstein, who purchased the books but had moved to another company before they came out, would want them to take place in the Birthright Universe. She did indeed request it, and I did indeed agree.
I recently handed in a book to Meisha Merlin, set—where else?—in the Birthright Universe.
And when it came time to suggest a series of books to Lou Anders for the new Pyr line of science fiction, I don’t think I ever considered any ideas or stories that
weren’t
set in the Birthright Universe.
I’ve gotten so much of my career from the Birthright Universe that I wish I could remember the name of that turkey we walked out of all those years ago so I could write the producers and thank them.
Appendix Two
THE LAYOUT OF THE BIRTHRIGHT UNIVERSE
T
he most heavily populated (by both stars and inhabitants) section of the Birthright Universe is always referred to by its political identity, which evolves from Republic to Democracy to Oligarchy to Monarchy. It encompasses millions of inhabited and habitable worlds. Earth is too small and too far out of the mainstream of galactic commerce to remain Man’s capital world, and within a couple of thousand years the capital has been moved lock, stock, and barrel halfway across the galaxy to Deluros VIII, a huge world with about ten times Earth’s surface and near-identical atmosphere and gravity. By the middle of the Democracy, perhaps four thousand years from now, the entire planet is covered by one huge sprawling city. By the time of the Oligarchy, even Deluros VIII isn’t big enough for our billions of empire-running bureaucrats, and Deluros VI, another large world, is broken up into forty-eight planetoids, each housing a major department of the government (with four planetoids given over entirely to the military).
Earth itself is way out in the boonies, on the Spiral Arm. I don’t believe I’ve set more than parts of a couple of stories on the Arm.
At the outer edge of the galaxy is the Rim, where worlds are spread out and underpopulated. There’s so little of value or military interest on the Rim that one ship, such as the
Theodore Roosevelt
, can patrol a couple of hundred worlds by itself. In later eras, the Rim will be dominated by feuding warlords, but it’s so far away from the center of things that the governments, for the most part, just ignore it.
Then there are the Inner and Outer Frontiers. The Outer Frontier is that vast but sparsely populated area between the outer edge of the Re/files/06/91/45/f069145/public/Democracy/Oligarchy/Monarchy and the Rim. The Inner Frontier is that somewhat smaller (but still huge) area between the inner reaches of the Re/files/06/91/45/f069145/public/etc. and the black hole at the core of the galaxy.
It’s on the Inner Frontier that I’ve chosen to set more than half of my novels. Years ago the brilliant writer R. A. Lafferty wrote, “Will there be a mythology of the future, they used to ask, after all has become science? Will high deeds be told in epic, or only in computer code?” I decided that I’d like to spend at least a part of my career trying to create those myths of the future, and it seems to me that myths, with their bigger-than-life characters and colorful settings, work best on frontiers where there aren’t too many people around to chronicle them accurately, or too many authority figures around to prevent them from playing out to their inevitable conclusions. So I arbitrarily decided that the Inner Frontier was where
my
myths would take place, and I populated it with people bearing names like Catastrophe Baker, the Widowmaker, the Cyborg de Milo, the ageless Forever Kid, and the like. It not only allows me to tell my heroic (and sometimes antiheroic) myths, but lets me tell more realistic stories occurring at the very same time a few thousand light-years away in the Republic or Democracy or whatever happens to exist at that moment.
Over the years I’ve fleshed out the galaxy. There are the star clusters—the Albion Cluster, the Quinellus Cluster, a few others. There are the individual worlds, some important enough to appear as the title of a book, such as Walpurgis III, some reappearing throughout the time periods and stories, such as Deluros VIII, Antares III, Binder X, Keepsake, Spica II, and some others, and hundreds (maybe thousands by now) of worlds (and races, now that I think about it) mentioned once and never again.
Then there are, if not the bad guys, at least what I think of as the Disloyal Opposition. Some, like the Sett Empire, get into one war with humanity and that’s the end of it. Some, like the Canphor Twins (Canphor VI and Canphor VII), have been a thorn in Man’s side for the better part of ten millennia. Some, like Lodin XI, vary almost daily in their loyalties depending on the political situation.