'All present?' Uga inquired on the screen.
Alp recognized his cue. 'All present,' he replied. His instruments had picked up Pei-li's departure—but dust and distance would have concealed it from the Chinese.
'No sign of pursuit?'
Another demand for an affirmative response. 'None.'
'In what condition is your horse?'
For that the applicable directive was: answer as pleased him, always staying wide of the truth. Uga had anticipated, with true Uigur cunning, just such a maneuver as this. 'Plenty of pep—but I've dismantled my bow for cleaning, since we're in the clear.'
Uga chuckled. 'Those Chinese have neither courage nor skill enough to bother us; you won't need your bow at all! We'll raid a T'ang outpost for new horses and maybe some recruits. Where's the captive princess?'
'I transferred her to the horse of one of the other men; he's got her on cleanup duty. Don't tell the Khagan!'
Uga laughed explosively. What an insult to the eavesdropping Chinese! Even though they knew the girl was no princess, Chinese face was being lost, because officially she was Kokachin.
'I'll catch up on sleep now,' Uga said. 'We'll just be walking the horses for a while. Don't interrupt me for any reason.'
That was to make sure Alp understood, and kept full alert—and
Uga's face faded. 'Why did you say I was on another ship?' Kokachin asked.
'So the Chinese won't know how tired my horse is from the extra weight,' Alp explained. 'That will throw off their calculations when they fire at us.'
'Gee, you're smart,' she said admiringly.
'Better hold the compliments until we come through this alive,' Alp said. But he was flattered again. She probably understood the need for such ruses as well as he did, but wanted to make him feel superior. That was a very promising trait in a girl.
If she had wanted to mess him up, she could have screamed a warning while he had the communicator on, and the Chinese monitors would have picked it up. Apparently she really had thrown in her lot with the Uigurs, hoping for faster advancement that way. A sharp girl, ready to take advantage of any break offered in her quest for Game points. She could be a real help to a man with similar motive, especially one who lacked proper familiarity with Galactic society and conventions.
Alp knew he was rationalizing, trying to justify his promise to betroth her, since he never broke his given oath. This lacked the status of an oath, of course, but the principle was similar. Yet he would not have made that promise had he not liked the look and sound of her, young as she was. The beauty of a nomad girl was a fleeting thing, best caught early so that none of the bloom was wasted. In five years Koka would be lovely; in ten she would be fading. Then it would be time for younger, fresher wives.
Except that it would take her about three-thousand-six-hundred-and-fifty-days to age ten years—and that would bring the Game up to Day 4,500 or so. Even five Years would bring it beyond the present Galactic date! Kokachin might flower in some other Game, but hardly this one.
Alp shook his head sadly. The chances that he would live to see her beauty were not good.
Chapter 10
BATTLE
Now they were upon the nebula. Alp hoped the other Uigur riders had been briefed as he had been, for surely the T'ang trap was about to spring.
The dust of the interior was not nearly as thick as it appeared from a distance. Stars were visible within the nebula, and at close range space seemed empty. But they had to slow way down to navigate it safely, for as with a river the visibility was deceptive, and it was thick with small rocks that could interfere with the ships. The galaxy outside faded out, and they were in a small private universe.
Then, in the center, Uga abruptly diverged. Alp started to follow him, but realized after an instant of reflection that he should maintain the original course. The ambushers had to have a fleet to attack, or they would become suspicious and perhaps thwart the counterattack.
Four ships accompanied Uga, leaving six with Alp. They spread out to approximate the original fleet perimeter—but that ruse would soon become obvious when they left the shade of the nebula and engaged the enemy. If the T'ang caught on too soon...
Alp checked his bow. In a Game like Armada, his memory told him, the ships mounted laser cannon that fired bolts of searing light. This did not actually harm the target, but did stun the occupants, partially or fatally, depending on the marksmanship. It amounted to the same thing: elimination of the inept or unlucky. But this was the Game of Steppe, and this ship was not a boat but a horse, and Alp had to depend on his personal bow, modified for space. This meant mounting it at the firing window and changing the arrows to laserheads. A computer-magic screen helped him aim, for no human could approach the precision necessary to orient on a target light-seconds distant.
'I can read off the chart for you,' Kokachin offered.
'And betray your own Emperor?' So far her cooperation had been passive; could he trust her beyond that?
'I never saw him. I just made beds for his concubines.'
'Even concubines have beds?' Alp asked, amazed.
'Sure! And most of them never even get used.'
'The beds? Then where—'
'The concubines, silly! Big waste, if you ask me.'
This was drifting from the subject. 'All right, you can read the chart—if you can read.'
