Heaven Chronicles

keeping them.”

“Public opinion will back me up. Nobody's goin' to let Tiriki have total control of that ship. I'll call a public hearing—”

“Use my screen.” The man pointed. “When we tell the people how the government has been goin' behind the Demarchy's back looking for the starship, they're not goin' to hear a word you say. You'll be out before you know what happened, and I mean out of everything.”

“But you'll be out one starship—and that's all that matters to me. Set up a hearing.”

The woman moved toward the wall screen.

“Just a damn minute!” Betha turned desperately, caught them all in a look. “Sixty seconds—one minute, where I come from—to mention some things you seem to have forgotten about my ship. One, it is my ship. And two, only I know where it is. And three, if you think you'll get it without my full cooperation, you're wrong. My crew will destroy it before they'll let it be taken—and that will destroy any ship that gets within three thousand kilometers of it.” Shadow Jack came back to her side, his face questioning. The others were silent, waiting, their frustration and greed sucking at her like flames. “Now, then. You seem to have reached an impasse. But I came here to make a deal, and I'm still willing to make a deal—since I don't think I have any other choice. I doubt if you'll let us leave, in any case.

“So … suppose each of you tell me why you want my ship so much, and then I'll tell you who gets it. And it wouldn't hurt if you mention what's in it for me—” Rusty began to struggle, clawing for a foothold on her slick suiting. She saw Abdhiamal watch the cat, smile with irrelevant fascination before he met her gaze in turn. He didn't answer; waiting for the opposition, she thought. “Well?” She turned away, afraid of him, afraid of herself, afraid to let him see it.

The Tirikis spoke softly together. They faced her finally, beautiful and determined. “Your ship would build up our business—and revolutionize the Demarchy's trade. The way things stand we don't have all the snow we need where it's easy to get at; we have to go to the Rings, and it's a hard trip with nuclear-electric rockets. And the Ringers make it even harder, because they know we can't do anythin' that would threaten our allotments of gases. If we had your ship we wouldn't have to depend on them. Your ship would make the Demarchy a better place to live.… You could continue to captain it, work for us. We'll pay you well. You'll be part of the richest, most powerful company in the Demarchy—”

“And when the Demarchy objects, that company will make your ship into a superweapon and take over.” Abdhiamal held her eyes.

She felt her eyelids flicker; he slipped out of focus as she shook her head, denying. “No one will use my ship as a weapon. Not even you, Abdhiamal, if that's why you want it.”

“The government wants it so it won't become a weapon and bring on a new civil war. God knows, the old one's still killin' us. Somebody's got to see that the ship is used for the good of the whole Demarchy, and not turned against us. It could be the stimulus we need to revive the whole Belt, the technology you have on board. We might be able to duplicate your ramscoop, build our own, reestablish some kind of regular communication outside the Demarchy. You could help us—”

“Don't listen to him!” the woman said. “We're the government, we, the people. He's got no authority to do anythin'. You'd be torn apart by everybody who wants your ship. He can't protect you. Stay with us. We'll take care of you.” She lifted her hands. “You've got nowhere else to turn.” Betha recognized the threat behind it.

“They'll take care of you, all right,” Shadow Jack whispered. His gloved hand caught Betha's wrist, squeezing until it bruised. “Don't do it, Betha! They're all liars. You can't trust any of 'em.”

“Shadow Jack.” She turned slowly, her hand still locked in his, and touched him with her eyes. He let go; she saw the anger drain out of him, leaving his face empty. “What about the hydrogen—for Lansing?”

“We'll send them a shipment; whatever they need.”

“And you?” She faced Abdhiamal again. “Is it true that your promises are worthless?”

“The government only does the Demarchy's pleasure. Why don't we ask the Demarchy? We'll call a general meeting, and let you tell them all about your ship. Tell everyone the location—but warn 'em too, to keep away—tell them what you told us. Then nobody will be at an advantage. I'll tell them what your ship could mean to all of them, to the whole Belt. Everybody will have a hand in decidin' how to make the best use of the opportunity, the way things were designed to be done.… The Demarchy means you no harm, Captain. But we need your help. Give it to us, and you can name your own reward.”

“Anything but a ticket home.” Shadow Jack searched her face; she averted her eyes.

“All right.” She reached down for Rusty's carrying case, forced herself to look at Abdhiamal again. “Abdhiamal, I'll try it your way.…”

He smiled, and she couldn't see behind it; she fought the desire to trust him. “Thanks.” He turned to the Tirikis. “Set up a meeting.”

“No. Wait.” Betha shook her head. “Not here. I want to be on my ship when I make the announcement. If everyone has to know where it is, some lunatic will try to take it no matter what I say. I have to be there, to countermand my orders; I don't want to lose my ship now. I'm sure you don't, either?” She looked back at him. “We'll take you to the ship; we can broadcast from there.… After all, it's not going to get away from you without fuel, is it?”

“I suppose not. And I suppose you're right.” He nodded once, watching the Tirikis. “Okay, I'll accept your terms.”

“Go with 'em, Abdhiamal.” Esrom Tiriki's voice mocked him. “That'll give us plenty of time to spread the news of this; the mediamen will tear you apart. By the time you call a meetin' you'll be public enemy number one. Nobody will listen to you then. You can count on it.” His hand jerked at the counter's edge, chopping down.

She saw Abdhiamal's smile tighten. “Let's get goin', then.”

She pushed Rusty, protesting, into the case and sealed the lid. She felt a small joy at a sacrifice refused, and felt the Tirikis' eyes change enviously behind her. She smiled faintly.

“How can you smile now, after that's happened?” Shadow Jack muttered. He picked up his helmet.

Softly she said, “Didn't I tell you there was always a reason to keep smiling?”

Lansing 04 and Ranger (Demarchy space) +1.73 megaseconds

Wadie watched the starship grow on the screen in the cramped, stinking cabin of the Lansing 04. His admiration grew with it—and his heartfelt gratitude. This was the Ship from Outside, a ship to cross interstellar space at interstellar speeds, with a body streamlined to silken grace as a protection against the corroding particulate wind. It had none of the ugly angularity of the spacecraft he had always seen; it was pragmatic perfection, and there hadn't been a ship like it in the Heaven system in generations. The prewar starships of the Heaven Belt had been converted into the deadliest of warships during the war—and had been destroyed, every one, just as the access to the basic requirements for life, the delicate balance of survival, had been destroyed. In the end the Main Belt had become a vast mausoleum, and now the isolated survivors were disappearing,like patches of melting snow.…

He looked down at the back of Shadow Jack's head. His own head ached insufferably. He looked back at the screen again, counting the seconds until they reached the ship. Even if it hadn't been all he imagined, still it would have been a haven, an escape from the past two hundred kilosecs of suffocating indignity in the foulness of this scrap-metal coffin. And an escape from the sullen, hostile boy and the small, blunt woman who might as well have been a man, like all the other women who pushed their way out into space. He watched her as she soothed the cat above the humming control board, the rings shining on her hands. He looked down at the gold-and-ruby ring on his own thumb, the gift of that other spacing woman and her man, and wondered wearily why this one bothered to wear so many rings, when she obviously wasn't interested in her appearance.

The starship's image blotted out the stars; unobtrusively, he used his water ration to clean his face and hands.

Not a ship. Wadie pulled back, halfway through the