The Crucible of Empire (10 page)

"She did not mean to attack him," Jalta said. Her crewmate was pacing back and forth. "Mallu thrust himself between them."

"Whatever the intentions," Dr. Ames said, "it cannot happen again. Your captain is most fortunate that the rib did not puncture something more vital—like his heart."

Kaln wanted to flee, to be alone with her shame, but did not know where to go. Her head ached. The quarters they had been assigned were far away and she wasn't quite sure how to leave the ship and find her way back.

Dr. Ames gazed at her with the dispassion of a kochan-parent. "I think," she said finally, when Kaln could bear the silence no more, "you need to take a swim."

Jalta's head swiveled. Kaln could not believe that she had understood the human's words correctly.

"We have a number of excellent pools here on the
Lexington
," Dr. Ames said. "Why don't you try out the one on this level? It is just four doors windward down the corridor. Our Jao consultants report that the salts are perfectly balanced."

A swim. Kaln felt like it had been forever since she'd had that luxury. Her muzzle itched and her nap felt desiccated, absolutely stiff with dirt.

"When you are done, check back here," Ames said. "Your captain should be better by then."

Jalta tugged at her arm, and the two of them left to find the promised pool.

Wrot stopped at the office complex inside the refit facility and inquired about Tully. The human was busy in his own small allotted space, he learned from the adjunct on duty, two doors down. Wrot thrust his head into the compact, over-lit room. "Come with me," he said without preamble, blinking against the brightness.

Tully looked up from his comboard. He had golden hair, not unheard of among his kind, but not overly common either. It had grown rather long recently, giving him a ragged incomplete look. "Pretty busy here," he said, leaning back and tapping a pen against his chin. "Tons of stuff piled up while I was in the mountains. Can it wait?"

"We have trouble over at the ship with the three Krants," Wrot said. "I could use—as you humans say—backup."

"Goddammit," Tully said, rising. He keyed his comboard off and circled his desk. His jinau uniform was rumpled. "They haven't been here more than a few days. Couldn't they wait at least a week to start a ruckus?"

"They are traumatized," Wrot said as Tully ducked past him into the corridor. "Surely you can understand that. They lost their ships and most of their crew, which would be devastating to anyone, but especially so to Krant, which is not rich in assets."

The two of them hurried down the hall, then descended the stairs. Sounds of the refit assaulted their ears as they came out onto the work floor, the screech of saws cutting metal, the pounding of hammers, the buzz of wood being cut. The smell of fresh paint and scorched metal filled the air. "So what were they doing out there," Tully said, "if they couldn't afford to mix it up with the Ekhat?"

"They were part of a three-ship task force, dispatched from a Jao base to check out signals that indicated Ekhat activity in the nebula." Wrot headed toward the outside door at the opposite end. "It is difficult to correctly calculate framepoints in such an environment. One of the three ships was destroyed in transit, the second by the Ekhat they encountered there, probably the Melody, which is not the same faction that attacked Terra two years ago. The third ship fatally damaged the Ekhat vessel, but barely survived the engagement itself, too badly damaged to do anything more than make transit back to the base while the point locus was still active."

"So they are soldiers?" Tully trotted around the massive Earth subs in their immense wooden cradles and waved to a few of the workers as he passed.

"Yes, though all Jao undertake a form of what you would call military training," Wrot said, keeping up despite his age. "So you might say that we are all soldiers at some point in our lives."

Tully fell silent as the two of them dodged ladders, stepped over electrical cables, detoured showers of sparks from the welders perched on ladders and scaffolds overhead. "The crazy bastards would traumatize anyone," the human said, "at least anyone sane."

Once they reached the great ship, they were passed through Security immediately. "Status of the difficulty with the Krants?" Wrot asked the stocky human sergeant on duty.

"Krant-Captain Mallu has been taken to the medical bay on Deck Fifty-Seven," the sergeant said. "I haven't received an update on his condition."

"The other two?" Wrot asked.

"Swimming on the same deck. I posted a guard to keep an eye on them—discreetly."

"Sounds like it's all been resolved," Tully said. He shoved his hands into his blue uniform's pockets. "You don't need me."

"We are going to be traveling with these Krants for some time," Wrot said, leading Tully to a lift station. "It is necessary to achieve at least a rudimentary level of association with them."

"They don't like humans," Tully said. "They already made that clear back in Aille's office."

"Which is why it must be you and not me who makes them see reason. Humans are going to matter on this assignment, you and Caitlin most of all. They must acknowledge your right to serve if this is going to work."

They stepped into the lift and the doors closed. Tully stared at him with those unsettling blue eyes. "You want
me
to bring these—goobers—into association?"

Despite his many years of proficiency with English, Wrot wasn't quite sure what "goobers" signified. Humans were so endlessly inventive with language. He flicked an ear. "You and Caitlin."

The lift whooshed upwards. Tully held onto the internal rail to steady himself. He looked distinctly unhappy. "You don't want much, do you?"

Wrot leaned against the humming wall. "Anyone who can bring the mountain Resistance leaders into association can deal with a few backwater Jao."

"I understand the Resistance because I grew up with them," Tully said as the door slid open. "I know where they're coming from, but I haven't got a clue about these guys."

"Nor have they about you," Wrot said. "It should make for, as your species would say, an even playing field."

They padded down the hall, then spotted a uniformed guard at the far end. "You should find the senior-tech and the terniary-commander there," said Wrot. "Go in and reason with them while I check on Krant-Captain Mallu. Teach them how to deal with humans."

"Gee," Tully said, his shoulders slipping into his characteristic reluctant slouch, "may I?"

That, like much Tully said, was rhetorical, and not entirely respectful, either. Reflecting that the human was fortunate that Yaut was not nearby, Wrot left him there and went to the medical bay.

Kaln broke the surface of the little pool and floated. Here, in this deliciously balanced water, she could almost forget her shame. The salts mixture was reminiscent of her homeworld of Mannat Kar, though the saturation was not nearly as strong. She closed her eyes and thought of storms, spray flying in her face, giant swells that carried one far out to sea. She tightened her timesense so that the soothing moment stretched out. The ache in her head—eased.

Then her nap prickled, breaking her concentration. Flow abruptly resumed its normal rate. She opened her eyes, turned, and realized one of those runty humans was watching her from the wall by the door.

"What do you want?" Her voice rang hollowly in the echoing space.

"I came to see if you needed anything," it said. It had a shaggy golden thatch on its head, and seemed vaguely familiar. Without facial striping, though, it was difficult to be certain of its identity.

"If we wish something, we will request it ourselves," she said stiffly. "Go away." Then she plunged beneath the cool surface again. Jalta was swimming along the bottom, his body as sinuous as one of
manks
that swam Mannat Kar's seas. It was quite a decent pool, better than any they'd possessed on their lost Krant vessel. How strange to find such a civilized luxury on a ship built at least partially by primitives.

When she judged enough time had passed for the creature to have taken itself off, Kaln surfaced again. The obnoxious beast was still there, hunkered down, arms crossed, watching with those horrid static eyes.

"I sent you away!" She heaved out of the water and stood dripping at the pool's edge. Light reflected crazily off the water to the walls and ceiling. "We require nothing from you!"

"I just had word that your captain is resting comfortably," it said, brandishing a pocketcom. "I thought you might like to know."

Her good ear flattened and she could not think what to say, awash all over again in her shame.

"Do you want to see him?" the golden-haired creature said.

Jalta climbed out of the pool too and stood, sleek and wet, beside her. "When we do, we will find him ourselves!" Kaln said, whiskers bristling. "We do not need your assistance!"

"Is that the Jao way, to refuse association when it is offered?"

"What would a stub-earred thing like you know of association?" Her body slipped toward pure
rage
and she felt unreasoning emotion take hold of her again. The throb behind her eyes returned, even more savage than before.

"More than you, it would seem." Its Jao was heavily accented but grammatically correct.

Jalta stiffened. "You dare offer insult to us?"

"It is only an insult if it is true." The creature straightened and regarded them steadily, hands shoved into folds in its dark-blue clothing. It was not especially tall for its kind, nor heavily muscled, yet possessed a sinewy sort of grace and seemed very sure of itself. "Is it?"

"All Jao seek association," she said, her angles gone to
disbelief
.

"So I have been told," the creature said, "though I am always willing to be instructed."

"That is not my responsibility," she said, then shook the water from her nap so that the air filled with flying drops. "You must seek instruction elsewhere."

"Wrot has assigned me to you," the creature said, its face and uniform now wet from her spray. "And I am also under Preceptor Ronz's orders to join the crew, so—" It rocked back on its heels. "—it would seem that we are, in the human vernacular, stuck with each other."

"Not," Kaln said, her white-hot anger rising like a deadly high tide, "if I kill you!"

"True." Its alien face crinkled into a curious expression that she could not read. "I must warn you, though, that more experienced Jao than you have already tried with obvious lack of success." Its strange grimace broadened. "Just think of me as your very own fraghta."

Kaln launched herself at the creature, but it slipped tantalizingly just out of reach, much more agile than its appearance indicated. "
You
intend to—instruct
us
?" she bellowed, hands clenched.

"I told Wrot I was too busy to take you on," the creature said blithely, "but he insisted, so here I am."

It was not to be borne! All the terrible events that had come of their ill-fated expedition crashed in upon her. Kaln snatched up her maroon trousers and donned them again with savage jerks, blood thrumming in her ears. The Bond had summoned them here to this primitive world like errant children, quartered them away from the remnants of their crew, then foisted this—this—
beast
upon them as a moral guide? She felt as though the top of her head would explode.

"Calm yourself, Senior-Tech," a Jao voice said from the doorway.

She whirled upon the newcomer. It was one of the Jao from the meeting with Terra's governor, a highly ranked individual, according to the service bars incised upon his cheek. "This has nothing to do with you!"

"Actually, Tully is here at my order," the intruder said mildly, his lines indicating
bemused-inquiry
. "So the situation has a great deal to do with me."

"Wrot, it seems they do not want a fraghta," the human said. "I had always heard that it was an honor to be assigned such an advisor."

"Do you hear how it speaks to us?" She glared at this Wrot-whoever-he-was. "Kill it now before it shames you any further!"

"A fraghta?" Wrot's wiry old body eased into the angles of
consideration
. "I had not thought of that before, but actually that is a close approximation of what this situation requires."

"What situation?" Jalta asked, his own lines hopelessly jumbled.

"You will have to work closely with humans on this expedition," Wrot said, "without killing them out of hand."

"But they are savages!" Kaln said. "One does not work
with
a savage!"

"They are not savages," Wrot said, his body gone to
stern-disapproval
. "They are sapients, technologically accomplished and fully capable of association under the right circumstances." He gazed at her implacably. "Can you say the same for yourselves?"