Read The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds Online

Authors: Debra Doyle,James D. Macdonald

The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds (28 page)

BOOK: The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds
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“Mostly,” said her brother.
“How’d you like a permanent job in the
’Hammer’s
galley?”
Ari shook his head. “Sorry, I just signed on for one cruise. And speaking of things like that—now that we’ve made it this far, what’s the plan?” He gave her a dubious look. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”
She couldn’t resist. “No, I don’t have a plan.” She let the pause drag out long enough for Ari to start turning red, then nodded toward the Professor. “He does, though.”
Ari turned with elaborate patience to her copilot. “Speaking as my sister’s tactician,” he said, “can you tell me how we’re going to handle this?”
The Professor sat with both hands around a cup of cha’a a from the self-heating pot he’d brought out of
Defiant’s
galley. “much depends,” he said, “upon the intelligence Mistress Hyfid and Lieutenant Commander Jessan bring with them when they return. Roughly, the plan is this: Nivome the Rolny maintains a vast hunting preserve in the heart of Darvell’s capital city. So much is general knowledge across the civilized galaxy. In fact, invitations to join the Rolny for a weekend of shooting wuxen are highly prized in certain circles of the Republic.”
“I’m sure everybody has a wonderful time,” Ari said. “But what does that have to do with us? The ‘House of Sapne’ act’s gone stale by now.”
Beka shook her head. “You shouldn’t have slept through breakfast before we left base. This time we’re doing a straightforward smash-and-grab.”
“In the middle of the capital city?”
“That’s the importance of the hunting preserve,” said the Professor. “Security is tight at Rolny Lodge—but Nivome’s other residence is not called the Citadel for compliment’s sake alone.”
After dinner, silence fell over the clearing. Ari shied small pebbles one at a time across the open ground at a patch of light-colored moss. Beka worked over the leather belt of the Gyfferan blaster, first measuring it off against her old belt, then punching a series of new holes with the point of her knife. The Professor, meanwhile, had settled back against a convenient boulder and, as far as Beka could tell from looking at him, had gone to sleep.
Let him rest,
she told herself as she worked the knife point through the thick leather.
That approach laid you out flat for a solid day afterward, even with a copilot to share everything but the worst parts—and you’re still young
.
Ari had caught her quick glance over at the elderly Entiboran. “Fond of him, are you?”
She put a bit more pressure behind the knife and felt the leather give under the point. Another push, and the tip of the knife popped through on the other side of the belt like a tiny metal fang. She twisted the knife to enlarge the hole a little.
“I suppose so,” she said, after a while. “Somewhat.”
Ari looked disapproving. “Hard as nails, aren’t you, Bee?”
“That’s right,” she said. She measured the new belt against the old one again, and began work on a second hole.
“So where does Jessan fit into your scheme of things? Light amusement?”
She laid the leather belt down on the ground and looked across at him, balancing the knife in her right hand. “I’d say it’s none of your damned business.”
Ari shied another pebble at the patch of moss. It hit dead-on, like all the others had. “He’s my friend, and you’re my sister. I’d say that makes it my business.”
She drew her lips back from her teeth. “Think again. Or shall I start asking questions about your Adept girlfriend?”
“Mistress Hyfid is
not
my ‘Adept girlfriend’!”
“Then what the hell was she doing out in civvies with you on an emergency call?”
Ari reddened. “She came along as a courtesy to a medical colleague.”
“Right,” said Beka. “And I’m the Princess of Sapne.”
“Gently, my lady,” said the Professor’s quiet voice. “Gently, Lieutenant. Squabbling will not bring your friends home any sooner.”
 
Morning came. Somewhere beyond the combination of fog and low-lying clouds hanging over the mountainside, the sun had presumably risen as usual. In the clearing, Beka hunched her shoulders inside Tarnekep Portree’s Mandeynan long-coat and poked at a bowl of congealing water-grain porridge with her spoon. The hole stayed behind when she withdrew the utensil, like an impression in wet concrete. She scowled at the brownish glop, and looked over at her brother.
Ari sat next to the tiny campfire, his only concession to the dawn chill a light jacket over his loose shirt, working his way stolidly through a second helping of porridge. Beka watched him for a few moments, but when he tilted the bowl to scrape out the last few thickening spoonfuls she felt her patience snap.
“Damn it, Ari, doesn’t
anything
ever affect your appetite?”
He looked up. “If you can show me how skipping breakfast is going to help, I’ll skip breakfast and lunch both. Otherwise, there’s no point in starving.”
“Oh, the hell with it,” she said in disgust, shoving away her bowl and standing up. “Finish mine, too, if you’re going to be so damned practical.”
She stalked over to the tree she’d used for target practice the night before, and stood leaning against it with one hand and jabbing her dagger into the soft wood with the other.
“You’ll just have to clean the sap off the blade later,” Ari said.
She didn’t turn around. “I’m not worried about it,” she said, working the blade loose and slamming it back into the tree trunk. “I’ve cleaned off worse stuff than this by now.”
Ari didn’t answer. After a few seconds she yielded to curiosity and turned back around to see what was wrong. “Ari?”
Her brother sat without moving, his head tilted a little to one side. “Shh.” After a few breaths, he added, in an almost inaudible murmur, “Someone’s coming.”
She switched the knife to her left hand, and let her right hand fall to touch the comforting presence of the Gyfferan blaster. Over by the fire, Ari rose to his feet in one smooth, soundless motion.
Now she could hear footsteps, too—and, incongruously, the delicate opening bars of Klif’s Fifth Mixolydian Etude, its whistled notes pitched clear and true.
Only Jessan, she thought, biting down hard on a shaky laugh. She felt herself starting to tremble all over; it took all the self-control she had to pull Portree’s lace-trimmed handkerchief out of her right sleeve and concentrate on wiping the resin off the blade of her dagger.
“Anybody home?” called Mistress Hyfid’s soft alto voice.
“Just us,” Ari replied, in a curt monotone. “You made enough noise coming up here to scare off all the game in the district.”
“That was more or less the idea,” said a second voice. “We didn’t want to get blasted out of the bushes before we could identify ourselves.”
With careful, precise motions, Beka tucked the sticky handkerchief into her coat pocket, slid the dagger into its forearm sheath, and allowed herself to look over at the new arrivals. Nyls Jessan stood watching her through the morning fog, his jacket collar turned up and droplets of moisture beading his hair. Their eyes met; he came forward, smiling, from the mist-shrouded underbrush, and held out his hands.
She crossed the ground between them in a half-dozen strides. “You nearly got blasted anyway, you Khesatan idiot,” she told him. “My big brother over there can hear the grass growing. If we hadn’t been watching for you ever since last night—”
She stopped hard on the last word while her voice was still under control, and clutched his hands instead. Jessan’s long fingers closed around hers, and she felt her trembling ease off and stop.
“We couldn’t get away until past midnight,” Llannat Hyfid was explaining to Ari. “And after that we had to walk most of the way back.”
“Most?” Beka asked, without letting go of Jessan’s hands.
The Khesatan didn’t show any inclination to let go either. “We stole rides on ground transports for part of the way,” he said, still smiling at her. “Easier.”
“And faster,” said Llannat. “We’ve got some interesting stuff for the Professor. In the meantime—what’s for breakfast?”
Jessan and the Adept had put away a couple of bowls of cold porridge each by the time the Professor emerged from
Defiant
and joined the group at the campfire. He carried the self-heating cha’a pot in one hand and a bunch of mugs in the other. From her place across the fire from Beka, Llannat Hyfid gave the Entiboran a smile that lit up her entire face.
“You’re a lifesaver, Professor—we’ll even forgive you for sleeping in and missing our return.”
“I was meditating,” said the Professor, setting the cha‘a pot down on a flat rock and laying out the mugs around it with as much care as if they had been translucent porcelain instead of cheap plastic. “To quote an Adept of my acquaintance, ’It seemed necessary.’”
“Now that we’re all here,” Beka said as the mugs of cha’a went round, “just what did you manage to bring back?”
“I’m afraid it doesn’t look like much,” Jessan said. He began unzipping his jacket pockets and pulling out pamphlets, leaflets, and sheets of folded paper. Beka reached out and picked up one of the gaudier ones.
“‘Seven Tested Tips For Hoverbike Safety’?” she asked.
“You never know what might come in handy,” said Jessan. “Try the one under it, though.”
“‘Welcome to Darvell,’” she read off the cover. “With a blown-in flatpic of Our Beloved Leader, suitable for framing … that’s more like it.”
“He still looks like he did the last time I met him,” Jessan said. “A bit greyer and jowlier, but the same old Nivome and no mistake.”
“Now that,” said the Professor, as he riffled through the collection, “is gratifying intelligence. What else have you brought back?”
“A commercial comm-code listing,” Jessan said, “a
Child’s First History of Darvell—
with maps—and a lot of firsthand observation that someone may well find interesting once we get back. Quite a place, this planet.”
“What do you mean?” Ari asked. Beka jumped a little; it was the first thing her brother had said since the Professor showed up with the cha’a.
“The whole place is regulation-happy,” Llannat said. “ID cards to get into the stores, ID cards to make your purchase, ID cards to get out again … you get the general idea.”
“If you think the Space Force likes red tape,” Jessan added, “then you should see this place. Or maybe not—I nearly got hauled off just for reading the Plan of the Day at the wrong time. A guard spotted me acting suspicious and wanted to write me up for failure to carry my ID card in the proper pocket. I thought I’d had it until Llannat came along and managed to change his mind.”
Curious, Beka looked over the rim of her mug at the Adept. “I thought you had ethical convictions about—what was it, Mistress Hyfid, ‘invasion and compulsion’?”
The Adept lowered her eyes with a faint smile. “Take my word for it, Captain—the method I used wasn’t the kind they teach up at the Retreat.”
Over beyond Jessan, Beka could hear Ari choking on a mouthful of cha’a. She stared for a moment at the small woman and then began to grin.
“I think, Mistress Hyfid—”
“That’s ‘Llannat,’” said the Adept. “Please.”
“Llannat, then,” said Beka, still grinning, while Ari glowered dark-browed at them both. “I think we’re going to be friends after all.”
 
I
T’S
AMAZING
, Ari thought a week later, as he made his way through the tidy streets near Darplex Spaceport,
what you can do with maps and a comm-code listing
.
The child’s history book Llannat had picked up—purchased for her, she said, by the overly impressionable guard in the course of a courtesy tour—had located them on the planet’s surface. Working from the maps in the back, Beka and the Professor had been able to plot a hoverbike course to Darplex that skirted the settlements and the main roads. Once they’d slipped into Darplex proper, setting up shop in a deserted warehouse had been simplicity itself. The neatly stenciled AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY sign Jessan had added to the front door was enough to keep out law-abiding Darvellines.
But the real find of that first day’s expedition had been Jessan’s commercial comm-code listing. The little directory hadn’t covered the entire planet, but it did cover Darplex and the surrounding administrative district, of which the small foothill town had been an outlying part.
Ari had been flipping through the directory’s pages that morning by the campfire, while the rising sun burned the fog off the mountainside and his sister and Llannat Hyfid grinned at each other like a couple of idiots. A bit unnerved by their sudden accord, he had given the columns of fine print in the comm-code listing more attention than he might have otherwise.
“Licensed Establishments,” he had muttered under his breath.
“Bars,” explained Jessan. “A bit of well-deserved comfort for the hardworking members of the upper pay-grades. At least, that’s what it says in the guidebook.”
“I see,” Ari said. That explained some of the names—the Upper Eight Inn, the Six-Up
Uffa
Shop, and innumerable Top Three Pubs, Restaurants, and Lounges. And … “Hey, wait a minute.”
Beka looked over at him, her face taking on the sharp-edged hunter’s expression he’d come to associate with her Tarnekep persona. “Find something interesting, big brother?”
“Maybe,” he said. “There’s only one Five
anything
in this whole listing.”
“Five,” said Llannat. “What was Munngralla’s shop in Namport called, Ari? ‘Five Points Imports’?”
Jessan raised a skeptical eyebrow. “The Quincunx, here on Darvell?”
The Professor looked thoughtful. “That does raise an interesting possibility. But even if the establishment truly is a Quincunx front, that organization always charges whatever the traffic will bear. For anything we might require from them, the price would be very high indeed.”
Ari couldn’t help looking smug. “Not for a member.”
Beka stared. “
You
?”
“That’s right,” he said. “Courtesy of Munngralla,” he explained to Jessan and Llannat; and then, to Beka, “A long story. I’ll tell you sometime.”
“You’d better,” she said. “But you know the recognition codes and everything?”
“Right again.”
“In that case,” the Professor said, looking as close to delighted as Ari had ever seen him get, “we are in a position to eliminate several intermediate steps and quite a bit of cargo handling from the basic plan—assuming, of course, that you are willing to contact the Quincunx on our behalf.”
“Sure,” he had said. “Why not?”
Right now, though, as he strode along under the white glare of the nearby portside dock lights, he could think of any number of reasons why not. Even in his most nondescript set of civilian clothes, he felt about as inconspicuous as a landing beacon. The ride across Darplex on the public shuttle had been even worse. He’d sat on a hard plastic seat between a pair of fresh-faced, wholesome-looking Darvellines, and forced himself to read the uplifting sayings on the placards above the shuttle windows as a means of self-sedation.
“
Training—Your Key to Advancement,
” he quoted glumly to himself as he walked along.
Beka was right about this place. It’s right out of a holovid horror show.
The Top Five Lounge shared a three-story building with the Paperwork Reduction Office (Port Branch) on the top floor, and something at street level that called itself a Class Four Privilege Shop and appeared to specialize in light household accessories. The main entrance slid open as Ari came up, revealing a wide stairway leading to hinged glass doors off a second-floor landing.
If this place isn’t a front,
thought Ari,
I’ve had it
.
He climbed up the stairs, pushed open the door, and went in. No ID checker materialized. In fact, the place looked deserted. Ahead of him, a long corridor paneled in dark wood ended in an archway leading to the left. The arch opened onto a larger room with a long bar set against the far wall. Beyond that room, through another archway, Ari could glimpse white-draped dining tables. But aside from the man behind the front bar, the Top Five Lounge appeared empty.
It’s early yet,
thought Ari.
Father always did say portside never got really interesting until after midnight.
He went up to the bar and took a seat. The bartender came over and asked, “What’ll it be?”
Here goes
, thought Ari. “I’ve traveled a long way for the sake of a proper word.”
“Coming right up,” the bartender said without blinking, and began to mix a drink from the bottles behind the bar.
Ari controlled a grimace as a splash of pink liquid from an unlabeled bottle was followed by a sprinkling of green powder out of a jar with a label he’d never seen before.
I don’t believe it. I’ve hit on one of the local cocktails.
Still, Ari wasn’t too surprised when a man slid onto the stool beside him. He did feel a small twinge of suppressed astonishment at the sight of the man himself. Most humans who could match Ari for height tended to be scrawny ectomorphic sorts, but the big Darvelline gentleman in the well-cut evening suit carried enough muscle on him to be Ari’s twin.
“Good evening,” said the new arrival, whose discreet nametag read
H. Estisk, Manager.
“How’d you like to bring your drink back to the private office?” The manager turned to the bartender. “No charge. It’s on me.”
Without waiting for another word, the manager turned and walked off. Ari scooped up his just-delivered glass and followed him into an office that held a desk, two chairs, and a shelf full of order books and supply catalogs. A half-finished tumbler full of something reddish brown, over ice, stood on one corner of the desk.
Estisk sat, and indicated the other chair to Ari. “Well, now,” the manager began. “What can we do for you?”
Let’s try another check
. “There are five things I need to start with, and more later.”
“We deal in fives of all sorts,” the manager replied. “But you’re the first one of us to come through in a long time. Sorry about all the mystery, but the barman’s only a local. I told him a ‘Proper Word’ was a kind of drink, and said if anyone ever asked for one to signal me.”
Ari sipped the concoction. It wasn’t bad, if you didn’t look at the color for too long. “The first thing I’ll need is five ID cards, spaceport passes, and all the papers to allow me and four others free travel in the city. I didn’t run into any spot checks on the way over here, but I think I got a few grey hairs worrying about it.”
“No problem on the ID and travel papers—but I have to tell you there are no spaceport passes. Port access is by personal recognition only.”
“That’s all right,” Ari said. “When can I get the papers and ID?”
“Come by my daytime shop,” Estisk said. “That’s the tool-issue point in Building One-two-five three-four, Outer Ring. If you can get there by nine tomorrow with flatpix of everybody you want a card for, I can have them for you by ten.”
“What’ll it cost?”
The manager looked thoughtful. “For a brother … just enough to cover my own expenses. Do you have any local cash, or would you like to try barter? The right off-world stuff can get you high prices around here.”
I’ll bet,
thought Ari, remembering some of his father’s free-trading stories, but he shook his head. “I have cash.”
Estisk smiled. “I won’t ask how you got it. In that case, the price is twenty marks for each ID and privilege card, and ten marks for travel permits and quarters cards.”
“Right,” Ari said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, and bring the rest of my shopping list with me.”
“Excellent,” said Estisk. The manager lifted his glass. “Well, brother, here’s to a profitable association for us both.”
 
A few days later, metal grated on metal as the doors of Warehouse 307 slid open and then shut again with a clang. Ari crawled far enough out of the aircar’s engine pod to get a view of the newcomers—his sister and the Professor, as he’d expected. Anybody else would have drawn some sort of reaction from Nyls Jessan and Llannat Hyfid, busy studying a holoplan of Rolny Lodge over at the watch desk.
“Where’s Ari?” Beka asked.
“Right here,” he said, leaving the aircar completely and joining the others around the desk. “I wanted to make certain our getaway vehicle was ready for a suborbital burn. Did you two find the stuff you were looking for?”
“Of course,” said the Professor. “Did you get the information from your contact?”
“I did,” Ari said. “But you aren’t going to like it.”
“Just tell me,” said his sister, “and let me decide if I like it or not.”
“All right,” he said. “The entire estate is surrounded by an immobilizer force field, and the controls are in the gatehouse—behind the field, of course. Nobody gets in who isn’t on that day’s access list.”
Beka bit her lip and frowned at the holoplan. “Stocking the woods with hunter/killer robots wasn’t enough, was it? Llannat, could you manage … ?”
The Adept shook her head. “Not an immobilizer. Sorry.”
“Damn,” said Beka. “I know it’s not your fault—but it’d take Gilveet Rhos himself to bring down an immobilizer any other way. We may have to settle for an ambush after all.”
The Professor gave them a small half-smile. “I think not. I taught Gilveet everything he knows … but not everything I know. The force field won’t give us any problems.” He pulled a small grey box from his shirt pocket and handed it out to Ari. “Here are your decoy transponders.”
“Thanks,” Ari said. “Any trouble finding them?”
“No trouble at all,” Beka said. “Transponders, ID, the aircar—that connection of yours does good work. All right, Professor, let’s go over the plan once more before we leave.”
“Very well, my lady,” said the Entiboran. “If you will all observe the holoplan—at first light, I will take down a section of the force field here, to the northwest. Lieutenant Rosselin-Metadi and Mistress Hyfid will go over the wall of the hunting preserve and make their way to the house, neutralizing the robots as they go. They will remain by the main house as lookouts and guards, signaling us that the way is clear.”
Everybody nodded and looked solemn. The Professor continued. “At dusk, Lieutenant Commander Jessan will bring the aircar down the cleared corridor and up to the house. The captain and I will accompany you on hoverbikes.”
The Professor pointed to one side of the main lodge. “You will land the aircar here, next to the dining area, where Nivome will be at his evening meal. The rest of us will ground our hoverbikes next to the wall. The captain will place a collapsor grenade against the side of the house and activate it. Lieutenant Commander Jessan—”
“Right here,” said the Khesatan. “I follow you so far.”
“Excellent. You will have your blaster set to stun. When the wall goes, your only task will be to take our target and immobilize him. Your blaster, and yours alone, will be set to ‘stun.’ Lieutenant Rosselin-Metadi will enter the building, and pick up the Rolny while the captain and I provide covering fire. As soon as we have the Rolny in hand, we will retreat to the aircar, launch back to the ships, lift off under cloaking, and enter hyperspace from the nearest jump point.”
“And then,” Beka said, with a twitch to her knife hand that brought the blade flashing out of its forearm sheath and plunged it into the center of the holoplan, “we can think about planning something … nice … for Gentlesir Nivome the Rolny.”
 
Ari watched the air above the high stone wall. A pebble hung there, caught in the immobilizer field and barely visible in the grey light before dawn.
Any minute now
, he thought.
The pebble dropped.
Go.
Ari caught the top of the wall with both hands and swung himself up to lie along it. He looked back down at the deserted street, and saw Llannat draw herself together and jump.
BOOK: The Price of the Stars: Book One of Mageworlds
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