“Good for you.” The terminal controller handed Van both cards with a smile.
Van did not look back, nor at Desoll. They ended up seated beside each other, on what was clearly a newer shuttle.
“Newer shuttle,” Van finally said, as the craft lifted off.
“Newest I’ve seen here,” Desoll replied. “Usually the newer ones are used on the Domigua lifts and drops.”
“That makes sense, I’d guess.”
Neither man said more than small talk, and little enough of that, until they had disembarked and were walking away from the shuttle exit along the gray corridors of orbit control.
“We’re headed to C-four.”
“That’s a low number.”
“It’s the last commercial lock,” Desoll pointed out.
Last was a relative term, since the station was effectively a disc, and the military locks began—or ended—just past the lock affording access to the Elsin.
Desoll seemed to be walking casually, but Van could sense that the older man was taking in everything.
Van himself could sense no one directly following them, but his chest was still tight as they neared the lock.
Desoll pulsed something, and, suddenly, the lock door irised open. A figure in a gray shipsuit stood there. She was slender and only came to Van’s shoulder, but he could see the stunner in her hand.
“Inside,” Desoll said.
Van stepped into the ship lock, and the other two followed. First the station lock door closed, and then, once they cleared the ship lock, it did also.
“Halfway there.” Desoll gestured to the tech.
“Eri, this is Commander Albert. Commander, this is Eri, my one and only tech, chief crew, and indispensable supercargo and troubleshooter.” Desoll turned. “Eri…would you throw the commander’s bags somewhere, and then strap in. The quicker we’re clear, the happier I’ll be.”
Once the tech had left, Van looked at Desoll. “Commander?”
“Well, you’re going to be commanding. That’s what all our pilots are called.” He grinned, and for a moment, looked far younger. “All three of us, now.” He paused. “And there is one semiretired backup we can call on in emergencies, but he’d really rather we didn’t. Now…into the cockpit. You take the right seat. Eri usually keeps me company, but she understands.”
Van followed Desoll, strapping into the second seat.
Even as he settled in, Desoll was on the comm. He looked at Van. “I’ll talk through the clearances and put them on speaker. Usually, it’s all netlink.”
Van realized that, without his implant, he wouldn’t have heard a thing. “Thank you.”
“Sulyn control, this is Coalition commercial ship Elsin. Ready to delock and depart.”
“Wait one, Elsin.”
“They always say that,” Desoll said dryly. “The clearance was filed hours ago.”
“Coalition ship Elsin, reduce ship grav to nil.”
“Affirm, Sulyn control. Ship grav is nil.”
Van could feel the weightlessness as the artificial grav field died, and then the blink of the internal ship lights as the ship’s fusactor took on the load.
“Delocking under way. Do not initiate power on thrusters or jets.”
“Understand delocking. Holding power.”
A muffled clunk echoed through the ship. Van felt the slight sway as the mag-grapplers reversed their fields and thrust the Elsin clear of the station dampers. Then the ship’s gravs came on—at a full gee, or close enough that it made little difference.
“Coalition ship Elsin, cleared for low-power maneuvering.”
“Stet, control. Low-power maneuvering. Lifting for exit corridor this time.”
“Cleared for exit corridor.”
Desoll fed in power on the fusactors, as smoothly as Van had ever seen or felt. “Sulyn control, Coalition ship Elsin, outbound this time.”
“Stet, Elsin. Happy jumps.”
“Eri…would you set up a comm relay to orbit control for Commander Albert.”
“Yes, ser. It’s almost ready. Commander Albert, the controls are on the panel to your right. You’ll be superimposed on an office background. It’s actually Commander Desoll’s office on Cambria. That seemed appropriate.”
“Thank you.” Van smiled as his fingers touched the comm studs, since his implant was useless on the Elsin.
A blank screen appeared, followed by the simple spoken words, “Please state the party you wish to contact.”
Van thumbed in the bypass codes.
“Cicero Albert or Almaviva Albert?” asked the homenet.
“Cicero.”
A swirl of color followed, then Cicero appeared—in a white singlesuit—in his office. “Van. Might I ask where you are?”
“I’ve taken that position we talked about,” Van replied, choosing his words carefully. “It appears as though I didn’t have many other options. I’m headed off for some more training. I know it’s short notice, but the alternatives were worse. I had an unplanned visitor this morning, and that convinced me that this position was where I should be.”
“You won’t be back soon, then?”
“I wouldn’t guess so. I’ll have to see.”
“The best of fortune, son.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You take care. I’ll transfer you to Almaviva. He’s at the company studio.”
The screen swirled again, longer, before Almaviva appeared. He was wearing half of a Clethian period costume. “You’re off, Cicero tells me.”
“I am. I don’t think I was meant to stay in Bannon.”
Almaviva laughed, a sound of sadness of humor twisted together. “You never were, son. You never were. Your stage is grander than that. Just take care of yourself…”
Van swallowed hard when he finally broke the links. He turned to Desoll. “Thank you for the relays. I’m sure it was costly…”
“Not nearly as costly as it would have been if you hadn’t decided as soon as you did.” The older pilot smiled, but did not offer an explanation.
Desoll did not turn his attention back to Van for nearly an hour. All the time, Van monitored what the older pilot did—and that was little, for two reasons. Desoll’s initial course and power settings had been close to flawless, and Van’s implant was completely useless in tracking the pilot-ship interactions.
Van also studied what he could of the ship. When he had entered the Elsin, Desoll had been moving so quickly that Van had only gotten a hasty impression, and he had no real idea of the size of the vessel. From what Van had been able to see on the board before him, the Elsin was far bigger than Van had realized, larger than a Republic corvette, perhaps almost the size of an old-style light cruiser like the
