that sarcasm? "I presume something dramatic has happened to make you bunch up with so many witnesses around."
Valerena scowled. "Word just came. Father's Voyager arrived today." Exasperation. "Those morons up there didn't figure it out till a few minutes ago. They wouldn't have noticed if that damned Guardship hadn't challenged him."
"May I see the data, Mother?"
Maserang said, "Help yourself."
His
sarcasm was thick. He indicated his personal Information Center.
"Just scroll the message from station."
Irked, Maserang did so.
Blessed read. "Four hours twenty-three minutes since breakaway. Not enough time to dock and make the descent."
Valerena snapped, "Of course not! He's up there lying low. It says that right there."
"What we
see
Grandfather doing and what he's
really
doing aren't the same things, Mother. I submit that he
intended
to be noticed."
"Nonsense," Maserang said. "Why?"
"Because this is my grandfather's Other, who has been exchanged already, coming in to make the switch again."
"Don't let your imagination carry you away. It couldn't have been managed without our agents noticing."
"Neither you nor your agents have noticed that Lupo Provik is out on your veranda, among the invited guests, masquerading as Nikla Ogdehvan. And he's been on Prime for a week."
Dead silence. Stricken silence. Death might have drawn a talon through that room.
Maserang's Info Center buzzed. Irritated, he muttered, "I told them I didn't want to be disturbed."
The silence turned toward disbelief. Valerena said, "Amuse yourself at someone else's expense, Blessed. I no longer find your humor tolerable."
Maserang said, "You'd better take this, Val."
She went and snarled at the comm. She erected a privacy screen a moment after she started, though, so that Blessed did not know why she was growling.
She was deathly calm when she came back. "That was my father's pet artifact."
Blessed moved toward the door. "I'll go irritate someone else, Mother."
She screeched something obscene. He did not listen. He went out to see how life was treating Lupo Provik.
— 27 —
Timmerbach raged and wailed and scurried around, but not once did he lose control of
Glorious Spent
. He was a wonder. He railed against his deities, his employers, Canon, the Guardships, the Web itself, without prejudice—while occasionally pausing to give his techs advice in a calm voice. He sounded crazy most of the time but was just a man trying to save his ship and maybe his life.
Jo looked into the screen portraying the aft view.
IV Trajana
loomed ever larger.
One of the bridge crew beckoned Timmerbach. They muttered. Then the Chief jumped back and complained all the louder. "Commander, we're not going to make that anchor point. We'll come up several seconds short. We'll hang on till these bastards bump us off, though. May they get hung up and never find a way down."
Jo recalled stories of ships found caught on the Web, apparently unable to get back off.
Glorious Spent
shuddered and jumped as though kicked. Warning lights went mad. Jo grabbed Haget and a stanchion. Alarms shrieked and hooted. Timmerbach yelled, "Kick it off! Kick it off now!"
And pray the systems had not been damaged.
Real Space. Starspace. The sense of having been relieved of a vast pressure. It took her several seconds to understand why.
The dread was gone.
She and Haget realized they were still in contact. She jerked away. "My apologies, sir."
"None needed, Sergeant. Chief. We're off the Web prematurely. Have you calculated the schedule delays?"
Timmerbach exhaled slowly, controlling his temper. "We were close to the anchor when we broke away, Commander. Assuming our numbers are good, we'll be in starspace four days. We'll pick up another strand and be gone."
Jo did not listen closely. She was trying to keep an eye on Cholot and to watch for the monster star raging somewhere nearby, and for the school of stars in which it swam. Guardships' soldiers seldom got to see such
Valerena scowled. "Word just came. Father's Voyager arrived today." Exasperation. "Those morons up there didn't figure it out till a few minutes ago. They wouldn't have noticed if that damned Guardship hadn't challenged him."
"May I see the data, Mother?"
Maserang said, "Help yourself."
His
sarcasm was thick. He indicated his personal Information Center.
"Just scroll the message from station."
Irked, Maserang did so.
Blessed read. "Four hours twenty-three minutes since breakaway. Not enough time to dock and make the descent."
Valerena snapped, "Of course not! He's up there lying low. It says that right there."
"What we
see
Grandfather doing and what he's
really
doing aren't the same things, Mother. I submit that he
intended
to be noticed."
"Nonsense," Maserang said. "Why?"
"Because this is my grandfather's Other, who has been exchanged already, coming in to make the switch again."
"Don't let your imagination carry you away. It couldn't have been managed without our agents noticing."
"Neither you nor your agents have noticed that Lupo Provik is out on your veranda, among the invited guests, masquerading as Nikla Ogdehvan. And he's been on Prime for a week."
Dead silence. Stricken silence. Death might have drawn a talon through that room.
Maserang's Info Center buzzed. Irritated, he muttered, "I told them I didn't want to be disturbed."
The silence turned toward disbelief. Valerena said, "Amuse yourself at someone else's expense, Blessed. I no longer find your humor tolerable."
Maserang said, "You'd better take this, Val."
She went and snarled at the comm. She erected a privacy screen a moment after she started, though, so that Blessed did not know why she was growling.
She was deathly calm when she came back. "That was my father's pet artifact."
Blessed moved toward the door. "I'll go irritate someone else, Mother."
She screeched something obscene. He did not listen. He went out to see how life was treating Lupo Provik.
— 27 —
Timmerbach raged and wailed and scurried around, but not once did he lose control of
Glorious Spent
. He was a wonder. He railed against his deities, his employers, Canon, the Guardships, the Web itself, without prejudice—while occasionally pausing to give his techs advice in a calm voice. He sounded crazy most of the time but was just a man trying to save his ship and maybe his life.
Jo looked into the screen portraying the aft view.
IV Trajana
loomed ever larger.
One of the bridge crew beckoned Timmerbach. They muttered. Then the Chief jumped back and complained all the louder. "Commander, we're not going to make that anchor point. We'll come up several seconds short. We'll hang on till these bastards bump us off, though. May they get hung up and never find a way down."
Jo recalled stories of ships found caught on the Web, apparently unable to get back off.
Glorious Spent
shuddered and jumped as though kicked. Warning lights went mad. Jo grabbed Haget and a stanchion. Alarms shrieked and hooted. Timmerbach yelled, "Kick it off! Kick it off now!"
And pray the systems had not been damaged.
Real Space. Starspace. The sense of having been relieved of a vast pressure. It took her several seconds to understand why.
The dread was gone.
She and Haget realized they were still in contact. She jerked away. "My apologies, sir."
"None needed, Sergeant. Chief. We're off the Web prematurely. Have you calculated the schedule delays?"
Timmerbach exhaled slowly, controlling his temper. "We were close to the anchor when we broke away, Commander. Assuming our numbers are good, we'll be in starspace four days. We'll pick up another strand and be gone."
Jo did not listen closely. She was trying to keep an eye on Cholot and to watch for the monster star raging somewhere nearby, and for the school of stars in which it swam. Guardships' soldiers seldom got to see such
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