Accepting the Lance Read online

  There was a longish silence.

  “I pulled an extra heavy fine and two grava citaĵos because I’m Val Con’s sister,” Captain Waitley repeated, seeming like she just wanted to be sure she had the info right.

  “That’s right, Captain. I’m real sorry about it, but we got a lot riding on getting this upgraded certification. Ain’t just your family wants it. All Surebleak needs it.”

  Deep breath then; muscles visibly loosened. Captain Waitley rose, inclined her head—and froze.

  “Wait,” she said.

  Portmaster Liu sighed quietly. Might’ve known it wouldn’t be that simple.

  “Portmaster, have you had a chance to read the Scout Commander’s field judgment on Complex Logics yet? It was just made yesterday, but I understood the local Scouts were to be sending it right out…”

  Portmaster Liu nodded toward her screen. “It’s in my inbox.”

  “I know it’s an imposition, but could I ask you to read that? Right now? It’s pertinent.”

  Portmaster Liu looked at her closely, but she seemed sincere. A glance at the clock showed half an hour before the survey team was due.

  “All right,” she said, and touched the screen.

  Captain Waitley resumed her chair.

  • • • ✴ • • •

  “Theo,” Bechimo said. “You are—excited. What are you planning? I do not recommend aggression against the portmaster. She has been reasonable, within the constraints she believes have been set upon her. The penalty is harsh, but there may be some mitigating—”

  “There is!” she interrupted. “On Delgado, people who have done something antisocial, they repay the community for their lapse by doing a service, for free, until their debt to society has been paid.”

  Theo took a breath, watching the side of Portmaster Liu’s face as she frowned at her screen.

  “I think,” she said to Bechimo, “that we might be able to get the grava citaĵos against you downgraded, or forgiven, if you’re willing to do some service for the port. Crew and ship, that’ll be. I don’t know what we could offer, but—”

  “I do,” Bechimo said abruptly. “Yes, I’m willing. Very willing. We will redeem ourselves to the community of Surebleak Port, and to the community of pilots and ships. At the same time, we will establish a precedent in support of the Scout Commander’s field judgment.”

  Theo blinked.

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “You’re right. The judgment gives the Complex Logics room to establish themselves. Us, here, starts that. But we need to get the word out—”

  To a community that was deliberately hidden, and too aware of their danger from humankind.

  “I’m not sure how to get the word out,” she said.

  “I believe that we are not without resources. Jeeves has an extensive network of acquaintances. And I know you do not discount Joyita’s research abilities.”

  Theo hiccuped a laugh, then nodded when Portmaster Liu glanced up.

  “Pardon me,” she said. “I just thought of something.”

  The portmaster nodded and returned her attention to her screen.

  • • • ✴ • • •

  Portmaster Liu read the field judgment once, then read it again.

  So, in addition to being an attitude case, like the rest of her family, Captain Waitley’s ship was—of course—a Complex Logic, which just yesterday had been a crime, punishable by, well—death. The actual word used in the actual law was “reprogrammed,” but that didn’t change the finality of the thing…in Portmaster Liu’s opinion.

  Today, though, courtesy of a field judgment rendered by Scout Commander Val Con yos’Phelium—coincidentally the Road Boss or, as they had it, half of the Road Boss—being a Complex Logic in possession of a good job meant that Captain Waitley’s ship was every bit as much a legal entity as Captain Waitley.

  And wasn’t that just going to stand the universe on its ear. Not that she’d, personally, thought the Complex Logic Laws were the best work humankind had ever produced, but she’d comforted herself with the belief that it was unlikely she would, herself, meet such a person and be required to invoke the law. After all, part of the point was that AIs weren’t stupid. They’d scarcely call attention to themselves by coming into a well-regulated port, such as Claren Liu administered.

  Had administered.

  On Surebleak Port, now, anything could happen—and often did; a tendency that had only gotten more pronounced with the arrival of Clan Korval.

  The portmaster ran her hand through her hair. Honest to space, if they weren’t doing so much that was right, for the planet and the port, she’d throw the lot of them off-world.

  She sighed and closed her eyes, her basic honesty forcing her to admit the truth.

  No, she wouldn’t.

  Well, then. Best get on with it.

  She opened her eyes and considered Captain Waitley wearily.

  “So,” she said. “Your ship wants a word, is that it?”

  “Yes. We’d appreciate it—we’d both appreciate—if you could find time to listen to what he has to say on his own behalf.”

  “Well,” said Portmaster Liu, nodding toward the screen that still displayed Scout Commander yos’Phelium’s field judgment.

  “Since Surebleak Port has apparently been chosen to participate in a test case, I can’t very well beg off, can I? The ship’s here, the judgment’s been made and is going out through channels, and none of us really has a choice, now do we?” She sighed and shook her head, wryly acknowledging the truth of what she was about to say.

  “I would’ve had to make a call as soon as I’d gotten around to reading this anyway. All you did was jump ahead in line.”

  It wasn’t like she’d never been a test case before, she thought. With hardly any luck at all, this one would go better than her first one.

  “We realize that this is awkward,” Captain Waitley said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “You’re going to be hearing a voice on the comm, and you’re going to have to trust that the ship is speaking with you.”

  Portmaster Liu considered her suspiciously, but, no, it seemed the captain was serious. Well. Viewpoint was a wonderful thing, after all.

  She jerked her head at the screen again.

  “I don’t see a Scout Commander risking his reputation and his career on a practical joke. Says right in this doc that this judgment came about because of a Scout challenge brought against the starship Bechimo, Complex Logic. That suggests to me that, when we get the starship Bechimo on comm, it will be the starship Bechimo I’ll be talking with.”

  She turned the comm pad around.

  “Call your ship, why not? Let’s get this thing done.”

  * * *

  “So, you’re offering free labor against a major citation?” Portmaster Liu asked, having listened to the courteous voice on the comm while it told down its proposal. She’d liked it, that voice; she’d also liked that there hadn’t been any attempt to claim he was innocent of littering the lanes.

  Her question, now, that was a test, and she waited for maybe a little temper, or for a backup to the beginning and a complete repeat of what it—he—had just said, or—

  “That equation of course would not balance,” Bechimo said calmly. “No, what I ask for is an opportunity to redeem my reputation, and the reputations of my crew and captain; to demonstrate to you, to Surebleak Port, and to the TerraTrade survey team, that we are not mere mischief-makers with no regard for life and law.”

  “And what do you suggest as a fitting…Balance?”

  “In order to bring both sides of the equation into Balance, I would suggest that the port allow us to clean the most energetic rubbish out of Surebleak’s nearspace. There are several resonant orbits at work which we can trawl for the densest groups; we can also create a stereo map of the larger out-orbit potential problems. We understand that the Gilmour Agency had such a map, which we can update and provide to your organization as well as to the Scouts, who will s
urely be pleased to extend it as they come and go. Also, we can assist in placing weather satellites, if they are ready to be deployed. All of this increases the safety of the lanes, improves the landing experience for those arriving at the surface, and improves the lives of the citizens of Surebleak.”

  Portmaster Liu closed her eyes briefly. The punishment fits the crime, now doesn’t it? she asked herself.

  “You can work that tight?” she asked, because previous unsuccessful attempts to do this exact sort of cleanup had foundered on human error.

  “Portmaster, we are highly qualified for close-in work of just this type. We excel in retrievals.”

  Well. It was tempting, so it was. She could okay it right now, but that might look too eager. Better to give them all a chance to cool down and look at the thing from all sides. Talk it over. Take advice.

  And besides all that, she’d eaten up all her margin and was running close to the survey team’s appointed time of arrival. Instinctively, she knew that she didn’t want the survey team and Theo Waitley in the same space.

  “I’ll need to run it past my advisory board,” she said, “in case we’ve missed something. I’ll get back to you this afternoon, if that suits.”

  “Portmaster,” Bechimo said, “it suits very well. Thank you for your consideration and your time.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for bringing this to me. I’ll be in touch.”

  She closed the connection and looked to Captain Waitley, sitting quiet and calm in her chair, and took a deep breath.

  “He’s…really a person,” she said, which hadn’t been what she’d meant to say.

  Theo Waitley grinned. “He really is,” she said, and rose into a gentle bow. “We’ll look forward to your call, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

  Jelaza Kazone

  • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

  Tommy Lee dropped her at the front door, which Mr. pel’Kana had open by the time she reached it.

  “Good morning, Captain Waitley,” he said in Terran. “Your brother asks that you go to him in his office upon your return.”

  “Thank you.” Theo took a breath, thinking of her priorities, such as breakfast and bringing her crew up to date, and—gods, Kara! who’d been waiting for her all this time…

  Val Con wanted to see her. He wasn’t her delm, she didn’t owe him unquestioning obedience—which Kara still took as given—but he was her brother; he had recently done her the not insignificant favor of saving Bechimo’s life, and his request, through the filter of Mr. pel’Kana, was polite and—

  Her brother might be able to suggest a strategy for getting the grava citaĵos against her license reduced or removed.

  And that was definitely ship business.

  “Bechimo,” she said in bond-space, “please ask Joyita to give Kara my apologies. The meeting with the portmaster got complicated, and my brother wants to speak with me. Also, please ask everyone to meet me in the Southern Suite common room in two hours.”

  “Yes, Theo. May I suggest that you may want to eat a meal? Your blood sugar is low.”

  Right.

  She glanced at Mr. pel’Kana standing by patiently, apparently waiting to guide her to Val Con.

  “Would you please tell my brother that I’ll join him very soon? I just need to stop by the kitchen and get something to eat.”

  “Captain, there is not the slightest need,” Mr. pel’Kana said reproachfully. “I will bring a tray. Follow me, please. We will see you comfortable in very short order.”

  Theo opened her mouth—and closed it.

  This was not an argument she could win. As far as Mr. pel’Kana was concerned, it wasn’t even an argument they ought to have. Val Con wanted her; it was Mr. pel’Kana’s job to take her to him. She wanted breakfast; Mr. pel’Kana would bring it to her because, by doing so, he accomplished his first task more quickly. It all worked together, and no need for argument from an upstart star captain.

  “Thank you,” Theo said with a small inclination of the head, meant to indicate that his service had been noticed. “I will go to my brother at once.”

  * * *

  “Captain Waitley, sir.”

  Mr. pel’Kana stepped aside to allow her to enter the room.

  Val Con turned from his place in front of the window and came forward, hands extended.

  “Theo, I hardly expected you so soon. Have you eaten?”

  She heard the door close quietly behind her as she gave her hands to Val Con.

  “Mr. pel’Kana’s bringing a tray.”

  “Excellent.” He drew her down the room, back toward the window, where four chairs were grouped around a small table.

  “Please, sit,” he murmured.

  She took the chair that put her back to the bookshelf and gave her a view of the garden, if she turned her head a fraction, and of the door, if she turned her head a fraction in the other direction.

  Val Con sat facing the window, his back to the door. It was his house, after all; the likelihood of an armed enemy making it through that door was vanishingly small.

  “You’re up and about early,” he said. “Business at the port, I believe Jeeves said?”

  Theo sighed lightly. Val Con was worried about the port and the survey team, just the same as Portmaster Liu, and he wanted to make sure she hadn’t run over the portmaster with her boots on.

  “Portmaster wanted to talk to me about the drones we’d left in Surebleak space,” she said.

  “Was she displeased?” Val Con asked, too innocently, in Theo’s opinion.

  “You could say so. Bechimo’s fined a cantra and there’s a grava citaĵo against him for six Standard Months.”

  She met his eyes.

  “My personal license has a grava citaĵo laid against it for a Standard Year.”

  “That seems…steep,” Val Con murmured, holding her gaze easily.

  Theo drew a hard breath and looked away, feeling a flicker of anger.

  “It is steep,” she began…and stopped because Mr. pel’Kana had arrived with the tray.

  * * *

  “I understand that the port’s expanding,” Theo said, finishing the first of several muffins Mr. pel’Kana had provided—“and that’s why they needed to lay a cantra fine against us. But to hit us with those citations—survey team or no survey team! That’s not just reading the regs with a heavy eye; it’s inventing whole new paragraphs!”

  Val Con was slouched at ease in his chair, ankle on opposite knee, teacup cradled in his hands.

  It was, Theo thought, not very good tea. Surprisingly bad, really, with ’way too much caffeine and an oily texture—more like coffee than a proper tea. Despite which, she had a swallow, hoping to loosen her throat.

  “The regs,” Val Con said, apparently having decided that she’d finished saying her piece, which she guessed she had. “The regs do give portmasters discretion. Necessary, as I think you would agree, as all ports are not one port, and conditions even at sister ports may vary…significantly.”

  Theo slumped back in the chair and fuffed her hair out of her eyes.

  “But this portmaster—”

  “Portmaster Liu, as all of us, very much wishes for TerraTrade to find Surebleak Port worthy of an upgraded rating. The survey team has many reasons to find for us—there are not so many full-service ports in this sector.”

  “There isn’t any trade in this sector,” Theo pointed out.

  “No; you are harsh. There is some small amount of trade and traffic in the sector, and the presence of a certified port can do nothing but increase both. Which is an attractive proposition to TerraTrade.”

  He sipped his tea—carefully, Theo thought.

  “However, it does not benefit TerraTrade, which is to say, it does not benefit trade to certify an unworthy port. Above all, the process by which ratings and upgrades are determined must be beyond reproach. If the portmaster on a given port is known to read the regs with a heavy eye, as you have it, that is accepta
ble. A lax portmaster on a port which will, appropriately rated, become the primary draw to trade in the sector—that endangers the process, and TerraTrade’s melant’i, as well as Surebleak’s chances for an upgrade. So Portmaster Liu has reasoned…and I think she is correct.”

  Theo shook her head.

  “She said she came down particularly hard on Bechimo because I’m your sister. That’s not running a tight port, that’s reading the regs out of one eye for me and the other for everybody else.”

  “Ah. Do you have evidence that she has imposed lesser sanctions on other ships which have compromised the shipping lanes?” Val Con asked interestedly.

  Theo frowned at him.

  “Where would I find evidence?”

  “The portmaster’s log, naturally,” he said mildly. “We might easily find if you are the first, and a warning to others—or if you have been shamefully mistreated solely because you are my sister. The log for the last six months is on the public net.”

  She blinked, and after a moment, Val Con murmured.

  “Will you like more tea?”

  Well, yes, she would like more tea. This particular beverage however—

  “No, thank you,” she managed, and added, “What is the blend? So I know to avoid it.”

  It was honest, but it wasn’t polite, and Theo bit the inside of her cheek.

  Inner calm, she told herself, biting hard, and raised her eyes to Val Con’s face, expecting at the least a cool glance and an upraised brow.

  But Val Con was laughing.

  “I shall make you a gift of the tin, so that you may always have it before you as an example.”

  “No, I—”

  She took a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Sorry? For being Father’s daughter and a member of this family?” He shook his head, grin lingering. “Allow me to compliment you, Theo. That was perfectly done.”

  She glared at him.

  “Why’re you drinking it, if you don’t like it?”

  “The tin was sent to us gratis, possibly in the hope that we will become a customer of the house.”