More Than Honor

have evaded the bastards myself. He'd lost his legs from the hit on the bridge but I don't think it was that what killed him. He just gave up.' She swallowed again.

'We knew the Peeps were on Air, so we couldn't go back there. It was just luck the Jerobahm was bound out-system and her skipper was willing to let us ride her hull. We'd be dead for sure otherwise, Sir. Those bastards don't want any witnesses left.'

'Yes, all right,' Nessler said. 'Wait here for a moment while I consult with Mr. Singh.'

Nessler stepped toward Singh on the porch. The shipwrecked spacers parted with mechanical precision. They'd lost everything but the clothes they stood in—and clothes as well in some cases—but their discipline held. Mincio had always considered herself a scholar and above petty concerns of nationality, but in this moment she was proud to be a citizen of the Star Kingdom of Manticore.

'Excellent!' Nessler said after a brief conversation. Mr. Singh disappeared into the house, calling half-heard orders.

'Bosun Harpe,' Nessler continued, still on the porch which put him a head higher than the spacers he was addressing. 'You and your people will be billeted in a warehouse and provided with rations during the period you're on Hope. I'll defray Mr. Singh's expenses and be repaid on my return to Manticore. Mr. Singh is summoning a guide right now.'

Mincio doubted that Nessler would even request reimbursement for an amount that was vanishingly small in comparison to his annual revenues. Government paperwork was a morass, and she suspected that the Navy was worse even than the Star Kingdom's civilian bureaucracy. The comment was his way of not seeming to boast about his wealth.

'We really do want to get back for another crack at those Peeps, Sir,' Harpe said. 'They took us down, that's war. But the lifeboats . . .'

'We'll deal with that, Bosun,' Nessler said sharply, 'but first things first.' Nodding toward the servant who'd appeared at the door behind him he continued, 'You're to report to your new quarters until seven hundred hours tomorrow. A delegation of petty officers will wait on me here at that time. Dismissed!'

'Hip-hip—' called a rear-rank spacer.

'Hooray!' shouted the whole body, sounding to Mincio like many more than thirty- seven throats in the echoing courtyard.

As crewmen filed from the courtyard behind Harpe and the servant guiding the party, Mincio moved to where Nessler was talking to Beresford. 'This is horrible,' she said.

'The other side of the Dole Fleet not being very competent at waging war,' Nessler said without emphasis, 'is that they're willing to commit acts that would be unthinkable to a professional force. Like destroying lifeboats.'

Mincio nodded. 'I'd think that any war was bad enough without people trying to find ways to make it worse,' she agreed, 'but as you say—failed people are desperate to have anyone else in their power.'

'I was just pointing out to the master,' Beresford said, 'that with the Peeps being the sort they is, and Air being so close by to Hope, maybe it'd be a good idea if we cut things short in this sector and got back to systems where the Navy shows the flag with something more impressive than a destroyer.' He spat. 'To take on a heavy cruiser, for chrissake!'

'The normal problem in League Sector Twelve is piracy,' Nessler said in a voice as flat and hard as a knifeblade. 'But I agree that it might have occurred to someone in the Ministry that when the Peeps began sending out cruisers for commerce raiding, our anti-piracy patrols should have been either reinforced or withdrawn. No doubt the Admiralty had other things on its mind.'

Rovald came out of the house with a hologram projector, part of the extensive suite of equipment she'd brought on the voyage. She started to speak but stopped when she realized Nessler and Mincio, though silent, were focused on more important matters.

Beresford had no such hesitation. 'So shall I see about arranging transport, say, to Krishnaputra?' he said. 'Captain Cage hasn't broken orbit yet. It might be three months before another Warshawski ship touches down here!'

Nessler shook his head no. He said, 'Yes, that's the problem. We can get out of the region, but the survivors of L'Imperieuse cannot—certainly not in their pinnace, and not with any likelihood on any of the small-capacity vessels which call on a world like Hope.'

'Well, Sir . . .' said Beresford, looking at the ground and thereby proving he knew how close he was skating to conduct his master would find completely unacceptable. 'It seems to me that when they signed on with the Navy, Harpe and the rest, they kinda . . .'

'Yes, one does take on responsibilities that one may later find extremely burdensome,' Nessler said in a cold, distinct tone. 'As I did when I took the oath as an officer in Her Majesty's Navy. Nothing that touches you, of course, Beresford. I'll send you and Rovald—'

'Sir!' Beresford said. With a dignity that Mincio had never imagined in the little man he continued, 'I don't guess anybody needs to teach his duty to a Beresford of Greatgap. Which it may be to keep his master from getting scragged, but it doesn't have shit to do with leaving him because the going got tough.'

Nessler made a sour face. 'Forgive me, Beresford,' he said. 'This isn't a good time for me to play the fool in front of the man who's looked after me all my life.'

'Sir?' said Rovald, perhaps as much to break the embarrassing silence as because she thought anybody cared about what she had to say. 'As Ms. Mincio instructed, I've analyzed the damaged crystals in the deKyper collection to find a common oscillation freq—'

'A moment please, Rovald,' Nessler said, raising his hand but looking at Mincio rather than the technician. 'Mincio, would it be possible for you to win a great deal of money at poker from Lord Orloff? More money than he could possibly pay?'

'No,' Mincio said, her words as clipped and precise as the click of chips on hardwood. She and Nessler were no longer tutor and pupil, though she didn't have the mental leisure to determine what their present relationship really was.

Ignoring the chill in Nessler's expression she continued, 'He wouldn't play with me for amounts in that range. If I have the complete cooperation of Beresford and Rovald, however, I think I might be able to arrange for you to—' she smiled like a sharp knife '—shear him like a sheep yourself in a day or two.'

Beresford guffawed. 'Who d'ye want killed, boss?' he asked; not entirely a joke from the look in his eyes, and the sudden tension in Rovald's thin frame.

'Just a matter of borrowing a deck of cards from Orloff's camp,' Mincio said. 'It shouldn't be difficult, given your contacts with the Melungeon crew; and perhaps a little money, but not much.'

She turned to the technician. 'As for you, Rovald,' she continued, 'I'll want you to reprogram the deck's electronic response. I could probably do the job myself with your equipment, but I couldn't do it as quickly and easily as I'm sure you can.'

Rovald let out her breath in a sigh of relief. 'I'm sure it won't be a problem, Ma'am,' she said.

'I'm going to win at poker?' Nessler said. 'That'll be a change from my experience at school, certainly.' He chuckled. 'But you're the expert, of course. And Beresford? Before I surrender your services to Mincio, be a good fellow and find my alcohol catalyzer. Orloff's bound to be pushing his horrible brandy at me, and I wouldn't want him to think I had a particular reason to keep a clear head.'

It was midmorning before Reserve Midshipman Nessler finished his meeting with the ranking survivors of the L'Imperieuse. That suited Mincio much better than an early departure for the pylons. She was still feeling the effects of the dance two nights before.

Besides letting her muscles work themselves loose, the delay permitted Mincio to examine Rovald's work of the previous day. The technician had calculated the range of resonant frequencies for the four least-damaged Alphane 'books' from deKyper's collection. The next step would be to calculate the frequency of common resonance, then finally to determine the factor by which that prime had to be modified to properly stimulate the crystals in their present damaged state.

If Rovald was successful—and that seemed likely—the breakthrough in Alphane studies would be the high