The beige groundcar was waiting in the drive, with a driver whom Van didn’t recognize. The groundcar’s boot was open, and Van put his gear there, then slipped into the back seat beside Desoll. The driver, a man of indeterminate age, eased the vehicle out of the circular drive. The electrolorry was nowhere in sight.
“I’m still puzzled as to why you’re so interested in me,” Van finally said, after he had ridden in silence for a good ten minutes.
“Think about it. IIS is taking delivery of a ship worth close to a billion credits. I shouldn’t be trying to get the very best commander for it?”
“That’s flattering, but…I don’t know that I’d fit that description.”
“Part of what you’re saying is false modesty. You are good, and you know it. That’s why you were upset at being retired. You were punished for being good, both as an officer and as a ship commander.” Desoll paused. “And part of what you’re saying is because you’ve been isolated. Overall, the commanders in the Keltyr and Taran space services have been among the best in recent years—although that’s changing quickly. You haven’t dealt with the commanders of Argenti, Hyndji, or Revenant warships.”
“What about Coalition commanders?”
“They’re also among the best, but most aren’t suited temperamentally to IIS.”
“Temperamentally?”
“My homeland has, shall we say, the tendency to believe in The Truth. So do the Revenants. That was part of what caused the Great War of the past. Now, we’ve decided to mind our own gardens and hope that everyone else fights.”
“It seems to be working,” Van said dryly.
“It might, for a time,” Desoll pointed out. “Until the Revenants and the Argentis swallow up or annex all the smaller systems.”
The driver turned onto the Southway and clicked the groundcar into automatic tracking, but did not turn his attention from the guideway.
“Because of the urgency of our departure,” Desoll went on, “there are some matters that we’ll have to handle along the way, once we leave Sulyn. While we’re outbound, prior to jump, you can decide about the bonding account—”
“Outbound? On one of your vessels?”
“My ship, actually. The Elsin—registered as a commercial Coalition vessel, although it’s also registered with the Argenti and Hyndji systems as well. That combination allows us open access to most systems. You’ll learn which systems respond best to which, and that will be in your shipnet as well.”
His ship? Van was still having trouble believing that.
“As for the bond…let me finish. Where you have it placed is certainly up to you, but I’d recommend that it be in either an Argenti, Hyndji, or Coalition institution. If you want a smaller system, Kush would be all right, and so would Keshmara, although I’d give the edge to Kush.”
“Any of those systems?”
Desoll smiled. “You pick the system, and that will be the first training hop for you, to get you used to our systems. Actually, we have one stop first. We’ll be making a hop to where we can reactivate and upgrade your implant. Before that, you won’t be able to link to the ship.”
Van had wondered, but he could also see that trying to reactivate his implant on Sulyn wouldn’t have been wise. He still wondered why people were trying to kill him, whether on Scandya or on his home planet. He hadn’t been involved in politics. He hadn’t done anything except his duty, not so far as he could tell.
Desoll slipped a plastic card to Van. “That’s your shuttle passage. It’s a little deceptive. It lists a return down-shuttle to Domigua tomorrow afternoon, and there’s a reservation in the quarters section of the station. I’ve triggered a delay message to your parents’ home that confirms our meeting tomorrow on the orbit station to discuss possible employment, and suggested that we tour the Domigua office afterward.”
“You think that they’ll accept that?”
“If they don’t, they don’t. Generally, most organizations expect people to move deliberately, and what I said in the message is what they’ll expect. We aren’t counting on that, of course. The Elsin is ready to break orbit the moment we delock. We’ll do a relay so that you can contact your family after we’ve actually cleared the station.”
“How do I get through outbound clearance?”
Desoll grinned. “You don’t have to. Your passage says that you’re coming up for a meeting and leaving tomorrow.”
“What?”
“You’re crew on the Elsin. All I certify is that I’m not carrying any outbound passengers. I declare the cargo. That’s the responsibility for outbound clearance that rests with the outbound ship. No one questions crew, especially pilots. After all, just how many pilots are there that aren’t either military or those with regulated commercial enterprises?”
“Three?” asked Van, forcing a laugh.
“I know of ten in the entire Arm. Not even the RSF is going to force double clearances for ten people. And, once you’re on board, you’re effectively out of Republic territory—unless there’s a declared war, which there’s not.”
This time Van’s laugh wasn’t forced—before he said, “I do have to get on the shuttle.”
“That’s why the uniform.”
Before long the driver swept into the lane for departing shuttle passengers.
Feeling a little foolish in his full dress greens, Van got out of the groundcar, reclaimed his small carry bag, in keeping with an overnight stay on the orbit station, and walked from the groundcar toward the Bannon shuttle terminal. Half a pace back, in a gray shipsuit, Trystin Desoll carried the large duffel.
Once inside, Van tendered the passcard Desoll had given him, as well as his own datacard.
“Commodore…you’re leaving so soon. Hoped you’d stay.”
“I’m just going up to the station for a meeting,” Van replied ambiguously.
“You going back to duty?”
“I’m
