For Love and Glory

Freydis shone against the dark as a tiny crescent. Sunniva light fell space-harsh over the little craft in high parking orbit. She waxed as Lissa’s maneuvered to rendezvous. For a moment the woman imagined the sight from an outside viewpoint—Tramp a sharp-nosed cylindroid, battered and tarnished, Hulda a cone not quite so long but twice as broad at the stern, sleekly bluish, massive with the powerplant and equipment that left small room inside for living creatures.

Stillness hummed. The ships conducted their robotic dialogue directly by radio. Lissa almost heard her heart knock.

Smoothly, Hulda matched velocities and lay alongside. The slight, shifty weight of accelerations fell to zero. She undid her safety harness and floated free. Conjoined airlocks opened. A whiff of odorous Freydisan atmosphere mingled with hers. Hebo came through, grabbed a handhold to check his flight, and swung toward her. “In,” he said. His manner was not as exuberant as she had expected. Diffident? Hardly like him. But how well did she actually know him?

Dzesi followed. As usual, the Rikhan was clad mostly in her spotted orange fur and a belt holding two pouches and her great, wickedly curved sheath knife. She smiled, though, a curious thing to see on that half-feline face, and greeted, “Honor to meet you again, milady of Windholm. Yes-s, I remember Jonna and what you did.”

“Welcome aboard,” said Lissa, surprised by a sudden hesitation in herself. She covered it with briskness. “Are you ready to start?”

“We hope so,” Hebo answered. “Things are pretty well battened down at Venusberg, and I don’t believe anybody thinks anything special about our taking a short ‘vacation.’ ” Messages arranging for this meeting had been encrypted, but that was fairly common in business and private communication alike. “Shall we fetch our stuff and stow it?”

“The sooner the better.” Lissa quivered with the wish to be on her way. Doing survey and science in the forests was well enough, but now she realized that before much longer she’d have grown bored. Today she was on the track of big game.

Maybe.

Man and anthropard went back, returning with their personal gear and other needs, neatly arranged, skillfully handled in micro-gee. Lissa showed them where and how to stow it. She noted a couple of firearms and a hand-held missile launcher. All right, she’d come heeled too, if not so heavily. This vessel wasn’t armed, as he’d have preferred, but she didn’t expect any hostility; they should arrive and depart well before the Susaians. Their personal weapons were mainly a psychological prop, she hoped.

She gave a quick tour. Life support was adequate but austere—recyclers, synthesizers, basic facilities for sanitation, cleanliness, and medical care, four cubicles for sleeping, an area where a table and benches could be extruded—that was about it. Nor was there much cargo space. Most of Hulda lay abaft the bulkheads, barred from any crewfolk, meant to keep them alive and the ship active in environs that were often lethal.

The group sought the command compartment and harnessed themselves. The viewscreen before their eyes held a wilderness of stars. “Proceed to initial destination,” Lissa ordered.

“To initial destination,” repeated Hulda, displaying the coordinates. Lissa accepted. With faint noise and gentle motion, the spacecraft closed their airlocks and disengaged. Power purred as acceleration began, dropped to a whisper, and thence to silence. The travelers boosted outward at one standard gravity.

Weight steady beneath them, they released their bodies and rose from their seats. For a while they stood mute.

“Well,” Lissa said at length, because somebody ought to say something, “we’re on our way.”

“This—” Hebo cleared his throat. “I’ve been trying to find words— This is so good of you.”

Odd how that put her more at ease, seeing the big man stand half abashed before her. She smiled. “I have my motives, you know.”

“But it’s—it is kind of a long shot. Suppose we don’t find anything, or anyhow nothing useful?”

“That’s the chance we take. You were prepared to invest a number of years and all your earnings.”

Did she have the power to restore his self-confidence, or did it—more likely—revive on its own? Nevertheless he stayed earnest. “Yeah, but it’s my gamble. Mine and Dzesi’s. If we’d lost the toss, we’d have sniffed around through the neighborhood till we had to give up and begin again from scratch, something different. Wouldn’t be the first time. You, though, you’ve stuck your neck out with a lot more to lose.”

“Not really. If we draw a blank, I’ll explain things to my people, and they’ll understand.”

“If you return,” said Dzesi from where she sat on her haunches.

“Uh-huh,” agreed Hebo. “The physical risks, whatever they turn out to be. Why should you take them, Lissa?”

“The case looked important.” She glanced at the Rikhan. “Why you, Dzesi?”

The anthropard made a gesture that perhaps corresponded to a shrug. “It is a hunt. And I was wearying of endless cloud, swampy air, trees crowding in on me.”

Yes, Lissa remembered, she is a drylander, and her folk are nomads of the steppe. But she’s not human; she can never make her feelings entirely clear to me. Throughout these years, she doesn’t seem to have missed the company of her kind.

And yet—“Whatever the outcome,” Dzesi finished, “my Ulas Trek will remember such a quest. They will tell of it by the camp-fire. Unless, of course, we leave our bones yonder.” She appeared to take the possibility almost casually.

“That’s us,” Hebo said. “You, Lissa, I’ve been wondering about you. Are you acting on account of politics, to head off the Dominators and Seafells, or for the glory of your House, or for the hell of it, or what?”

All those reasons, she thought, and maybe others, tangled together in me till I’m not sure which is which. This is no time or place for baring our souls. She summoned coolness and replied, “I have my price. We’ve already agreed on it.”

He bit his lip.

“Whatever happens,” she pursued, “whatever we do or do not find, you’ll turn management of Venusberg over to”—she stumbled the least bit—“persons I’ll name.”

I still have to decide, she knew. Certainly Orichalc and various fellow colonists must be included, but I suspect they’re too naive and trusting. Some tough-minded, reliable Asborgans. We shouldn’t offend other Houses by excluding them, either. Dad can advise me. In fact, I dare hope I can turn the whole thing over to him.

And then what, for me?

Did Dzesi trill a laugh? “It is well,” the Rikhan said. “I have in truth grown restless, I desire newness.”

“I didn’t promise to throw everything at Freydis overboard,” Hebo objected.

“You’ll have a fair payment,” Lissa said with a flick of irritation. “Every investor will. The details can be worked out. But unless you agree to the principle, swear to it, this ship is turning straight around.”

“Hey, I did, I do!” he cried. After a moment, softly: “Besides, it’s worth plenty to go adventuring with you.”

He has more than one sort of adventure in mind, Lissa understood. Hold off on that. She made her voice impersonal. “We have about forty-four hours to hyperjump point. None too much, considering how little time or opportunity there’s been for planning and preparation.”

“Planning, against the unknown?” gibed Dzesi.

“Contingency plans,” Lissa snapped. “Emergency doctrine. Let’s review what we do know, and take stock of what we have, and get some food and rest while we can.”

Hebo grinned wryly. “I’m afraid you’re right.”

XLIV

Jump.

Abruptly the sky was strange, constellations Lissa had not seen since Dagmar was