The Spheres of Heaven

14: THE CREW OF THE HERO’S RETURN

The Hero’s Return was close to three hundred meters long and massed in excess of eighty thousand tons. It had been designed for “peacekeeping,” which meant that it had been fitted out from stem to stern with the most hideous weapons of war that the human mind could conceive. Nothing ought to warm better the heart of one of the solar system’s most experienced military men. Yet General Dag Korin stood in the main docking area and shook his white-haired head in disgust.

“You see how it goes,” he said. “You form some sort of halfassed union with a load of goggle-eyed sapsucker pipestem-legged aliens, and they dump their jackass craphead lily-livered ideas on you, and before you know it you’ve come to this .”

He waved his arm to take in the whole of the loading bay, forty meters across and twenty high. Flammarion, standing at the General’s side, stared around at the ribbed walls, the array of displays, and the warren of pipes and cables. Everything looked fine to him. Not only that, the Angels to his certain knowledge didn’t have eyes to goggle, and he very much doubted that they, the Tinkers, or the Pipe-Rillas had livers.

“Filthy!” General Korin ran a gloved hand along a rail, and it came away smudged with dust and grease. “Filthy, and neglected, and stinking. A typical civilian vessel. Swallow all the soft-headed pacifist nonsense that the aliens preach, and in just a few years here’s what you have. What I’d like to know is, where did good old-fashioned military discipline go, the thing that made humans great?”

Flammarion couldn’t answer. But since the Hero’s Return had been for at least ten years a civilian ship, it didn’t seem reasonable to look for it here. The weapons, except for strictly defensive shields, had been stripped out, and the human crew replaced by robots low-level to the point of imbecility. On the other hand, the ship’s computer had been upgraded to the very best that humanity could produce. This was an area where humans led the rest of the Stellar Group by a wide margin. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.

Dag Korin was glaring at Flammarion, who knew better than to offer answers or comments. He had a lot of respect for the aged general, and he realized that he was more of a convenient audience than anything else.

“And the crew that we’re getting!” Korin regarded Flammarion with something close to approval. “Now you, you’re a military man yourself. You know the value of organization and training. Did you see the description of what’s going to be arriving on board in the next few hours?”

“Yes, sir.” It would be more like the next few minutes. According to the status display, a transit vehicle to the Hero’s Return had docked three minutes ago and Flammarion could hear the locks in operation.

“The scum of the solar system,” Korin went on. He waved the manifest that he was holding. “The two arriving on this ship are a fine example. Coming from the Oort Cloud, and so far as I can tell they’ve never done one useful thing in their whole lives. See this one. ` Tarboosh Hanson. Areas of expertise: talks to animals; strongman and stuntman.’ A fat lot of use he’s going to be when we’re fighting armed aliens in the Geyser Swirl. And here’s the other one. ` Chrissie Winger. Areas of expertise: magic and deception.’ What’s that mean? They may buy this sort of nonsense out in the Oort Cloud, but not here. Now this other man coming in later today looks a bit better. He’s not military but at least he has a career. ` Daniel Casement. Areas of expertise: financial investment advice, precious stones.’ Hmm. Maybe I should deal with him myself.”

“Sir, the first two will be here any second. That’s the outer hatch cycling. What should we do?”

“Hold your water, and take your signals from me. These people have to know who they’re dealing with. First impressions are important.”

Dag Korin strode forward. He placed himself firmly, legs wide apart, in the middle of the passageway leading from the main lock to the interior of the Hero’s Return . Anyone who wished to enter the ship from the transit vessel would first have to pass by him.

The inner hatch of the lock opened. After a few seconds, a fat little animal with thick brown fur and a bulging pointed head emerged. It trotted forward and paused in front of Dag Korin. As he bent creakily forward to grab for it, the creature scurried between his legs and vanished underneath a tangle of pipes.

Korin straightened up to glare at the man who came strolling out of the lock. “Is that beast yours?”

“As much as she belongs to anybody, and as much as she’s a beast, yes.” The newcomer was very black, very broad, and very tall. His height was enhanced by the bright red fez on top of his head.

“You can’t bring a dog onto a navy ship.”

“It isn’t a navy ship.”

“A former navy ship, then. You can’t bring a dog aboard.”

“It isn’t a dog. It’s a modded ferret. Her name’s Scruffy.” The man smiled amiably at Korin. “And mine is Hanson, Tarboosh Hanson. Reporting to Chan Dalton.”

“Get that filthy animal off my ship.”

“Sorry. Can’t do that.” Tarboosh Hanson felt in the pockets of his blue jacket and produced a slip of paper. He came closer and handed it over. As the general studied it, he said, “See. Approved for accommodation aboard the Hero’s Return , Tarboosh Hanson and job-related equipment, the latter not to exceed fifty kilos in mass. Scruffy weighs a lot less than fifty, she’s as smart as I am, and for me she’s essential job-related equipment. If you’re going to talk to animals, you have to keep in practice. Anyway, I’m supposed to report to Chan Dalton. Where do I find him?”

“He hasn’t arrived yet. He’s on the next transit vehicle.”

“Good enough. I’ll wait for him on board.” Tarboosh Hanson nodded agreeably. He whistled to the ferret, who came promptly from its hiding place, and walked past Dag Korin. The General, turning and ready to explode, was diverted by something new. Another arrival had appeared from the lock and stood watching.

She was a short, trim woman in her early forties, dressed in a white sleeveless blouse, white pants, and long white boots. She had blond hair and a smooth china-doll face. Normal enough, except for the white headband that held back her long hair and hid most of her forehead. Across it, in black letters that became steadily smaller, ran the words:

You are now close enough for me to steal your wallet.

As soon as she saw that she had been noticed, the woman walked toward Dag Korin. He squinted at the headband as she approached, until when she was still two feet away she threw up her right arm in a snappy military salute. Guileless blue eyes stared up into his.

“Chrissie Winger, reporting for duty to General Korin.”

Seven decades of experience made the General’s return of salute a reflex action. His hand was not yet back to his side when hers was lifting toward him.

“Here, sir. I feel sure that you will need this.”

She was holding a slim black folder. Korin clapped his hand to the empty pocket at the back of his pants.

“That’s mine. How the devil did you do that? You were never closer to me than half a meter.”

“Professional secret.” A small card appeared from nowhere next to the black folder. “It’s my stock in trade. You can’t expect a lady to give it away.”

Kubo Flammarion, watching from a distance, expected Korin to explode again. Instead, the old General laughed and took both the wallet and the card.

“You’ve got a nerve, Chrissie Winger. I’ve always liked that in a woman. Magic and deception, eh? If we’re not allowed violence in the Geyser Swirl, maybe they’ll come in useful. I’ll make you a trade. Tell me how you managed to get your hands on my wallet two seconds after leaving the transit vessel, without ever coming near me, and I’ll guarantee you the best living quarters on this ship.”

She put a finger to her chin, considering. “Include Tarboosh Hanson in the deal, and you’re on. We’ve been together a long time and we’re kind of used to sharing quarters.”

“All right. Now tell me, how did you steal my wallet?”

“I didn’t. The Tarbush took it when you turned around and threw it to me.”

“Well damn my eyes.” Korin shook his head. “I should have known. That sort of trick was old when I was a lad. But I didn’t feel or see a thing.”

“You’re not supposed to. If you did, it wouldn’t be much of an act, would it? Now, what about these fancy