Loose Cannon (2 page)

I'd dreamed that accident; I'd even told
Mam. They'd gone out to make the repair anyway, of course, as who,
save on Sintia, would not? I'd climbed into the netting with the
baby and held her til Mam started to scream.

Six years old, I was then, but it got me
thinking hard about dreams.

"So!" That was Cly Nelbern and here was the
present. I came alert to both, sending my gaze along hers to the
man in Sintian town clothes--shabby, bright blue overshirt, bold
with raveling embroidery, darker blue pants, worn wide and loose in
respect of the heat, with matching fancy-work around the hems.

He had a tired face, used honestly, I
thought, with eyes showing desperation far back. Likely I looked
the same: respectability balanced on the knife-edge of despair,
needing only one more disaster to send us all over into
thieves.

He gulped, brown eyes darting from her face
to mine, barely glancing from me to Lil before his face softened a
touch and he bowed, gesturing toward the rear of the little
room.

"I have a table, La--ma'am." His voice was
agreeable, though it quavered. Nelbern shrugged and pushed
forward.

"Delightful," she said, and the edge in her
voice put the shine of fear in his eyes. "Lead on."

It was a small enough table in a snug,
ill-lit corner, tight seating for four, but he'd clearly been
expecting only her.

"My--companions," Cly
Nelbern said to his startled glare. "Captain Fiona and Ms. Lillian
Betany, of the
Mona Luki
."

It gave me a chill, being named there, and
by the sudden dart of Lil's eyes, it chilled her, too. But she
stayed tight where she was, perched on a chair crammed next to the
man--and Cly Nelbern smiled.

"Well?" she said, and the icy edge was back
in her voice. "Where is it?"

He gulped, sent a hunted glance around the
room at my back and firmed his face to look at her.

"In the office at the Port House, Lady. And
that's where it's going to stay."

Nelbern didn't frown, which was what I
expected. She picked up her drink and had a sip, eyeing him over
the chipped rim.

"Indeed." She set the glass aside. "That
wasn't our agreement."

Mild as it sounded, it was evidently bad
enough. The man stared at her dumbly, pale to the lips.

"Our agreement," she
pursued, still in that mild-as-milk voice, "was that you provide me
with a certain item, in return for which I provide you with a
particular sum of money." She stared at him. "That
was
the
agreement?"

He gulped. "Yes, Lady."

"'Yes, Lady'," she repeated softly, then
leaned suddenly across Lil, to put her face right up to his and
hiss: "Then what in the name of the Last Hell do you mean by
telling me you don't have that file?"

"I-" he tried to pull back, but there was
nowhere to go. He licked his lips. "There is a--a Maiden out of
Circle House, come to study and catalog the files. She--Lady, I
dare not! If Circle House finds me--"

"What I'll leave for the Temple to find if I
don't have that file within the day will be far beyond worrying
about witches," Cly Nelbern snarled. "Do you mark me, Pirro
Velesz?"

If he hated the speaking of his name, in
that place and in such company, he gave no sign other than the roll
of an eye.

"The Maiden," he said, "is named
Moonhawk."

Nelbern leaned back and reached for her
glass. "What do I care for her name? If you can't match wits with a
half-grown chit out of Circle House--"

"Moonhawk," the man interrupted, with an
intensity that raised the hairs along the back of my neck, "is the
oldest Name in Circle. Moonhawk is the most powerful servant of the
Goddess--every life she lives is exceptional--historic..."

"Don't prate at me like an abo! So the girl
had the wit to pick an elite name--she's still in school. Come to
Port House to study the records, you said. Where's the
danger--"

"The girl," Velesz interrupted again, "is
Moonhawk's incarnation in this life, Lady. Fact. She is young, but
the power abides within her. The danger is that she has not yet
relearned control. The training her elders-in-world provide is to
ensure that she will not--accidentally--use more force than might
be necessary."

"Loose cannon." That was Lil, unexpected and
great-eyed, but still well away from fright.

The man turned his head, eyes easier for
looking at her again. "Loose cannon," he repeated and nodded, a
smile coming and going in the second before he looked back to Cly
Nelbern. "Power without guidance."

"Well, then we'll see to it
that she has no need to expend her powers." Nelbern finished her
drink and put the glass away. "I have a client, can you understand
that? An--organization--that has paid me to--collect--a certain
fact. The only place this fact has come to light is Sintia. My
client has paid for proof. I
will
provide proof, whether you earn your fee or not."
She looked closely at Velesz.

"My client is not easily thwarted, you see?
Satisfaction earns reward. The wages of inefficiency are
destruction and disgrace." She leaned forward, and I saw fear bloom
at last in my sister's eyes and saw the sweat bead on the man's
face.

"Disappoint me and be sure that your name
will pass higher."

"Lady--" he began, but Cly Nelbern had
pushed back her chair and turned away, carelessly flinging a
handful of coin to the table.

"Tomorrow midday," she said softly. "At
Diablo's, in the port. Have it." And she was gone.

I half-rose, but Lil stayed put, the fear
like lunacy in her eyes. If she wasn't ship and blood I'd have left
her but--

"Let's move," I said, gruff-like, so not to
spook her, but she stared at me like she had when Mam died, and
never moved a hair.

"Lil--"

"Lady Lillian," that was Pirro Velesz,
leaning over to take her hand, oh so gently. His voice was soft,
and I seemed to hear it, like a cat's burr, somewhere in the middle
of my brain. "You cannot stay here, Lady Lillian. Go with your
captain."

Incredibly, the fear subsided and she turned
her eyes to him. "What're you gonna do?" she asked, matter-of-fact
as if they were old shipmates and she had every right of an
answer.

He smiled and pressed her hand, speaking as
if to a child, "Why, I will go to the Port House and do what I may,
and trust that the Goddess is good."

It seemed to satisfy her, who never had
patience with my dream-tellings. She nodded and rose, Velesz with
her, and he gave her hand into mine with a little bow, as if all
were right and tight with him.

But the eyes he lifted to mine in the moment
he gave Lil over were blighted with dread. His lips held the ghost
of the smile he'd shown her, but his eyes were the eyes of a man
looking at his death, or worse.

I hesitated, thinking to offer--what? I had
no aid to give, trapped likewise by Cly Nelbern's coin. I nodded my
thanks and went away, my sister's hand warm in mine.

* * *

IT'S A MARVEL how many
repairs can be done to a ship, in the course of six short hours. A
marvel, too, how much it all cost: enough to put a sizable dent in
Cly Nelbern's cantra-piece. Though, truth told, the leavings of
money would be enough to give
Luki
some semblance of credit again--enough, even, to
claim a small amount of interest, if Lil would agree to forego real
coffee for a time.

I had just thought that comfortable thought,
musing among the itemizations on the screen, when I caught a sound
behind me and spun the chair, fast.

Cly Nelbern smiled her ugly smile and came
forward another step, to lean companionably against the co-pilot's
chair and nod at the bill on the screen.

"Everything put to right now, Captain?"

"Everything'd take a deal more than a
cantra," I said, reluctantly honest; "but we're set to fly."

"Good," she said, somewhat absent, and I
asked the next question even more reluctantly.

"You'll be wanting our escort tomorrow?"

She looked up at that, alert as a dock-rat.
"But of course--and a lift out, too. If we're up against the
Temple--if that fool out there trips up..." The words faded and she
focused on me again. "Have us moved to a hot-pad, Captain."

I looked at her hard. "We're ready to fly, I
said. I didn't say we were champing on it. Plan to look around,
take on cargo."

"You have a passenger." The voice was
milk-mild and I felt my heart shudder, remembering her at the
tavern.

I shook my head. "We're through with
passengers. Trade's what we were born to; trade's what we'll stay
with."

"Indeed." She pointed at
the screen, at the invoice still visible, waiting for my thumbprint
so the funds could leave
Luki's
account. "I demand return of my loan, Captain
Betany."

I stared at her. "That was no loan, and you
well know it. Payment for escort, was what you said."

"Really?" she purred and then I knew how far
Lil had lost us. "Do you have a contract stating so, Captain?"

I held onto my glare with an effort.
"No."

"No." She smiled. "But I have a contract
stipulating that I offered a cantra in loan for needful repairs,
payable upon demand, else the ship resolves to me."

My mouth dried and my heart took up thumping
so hard I thought the scans might read it. "You have no such
thing."

"Oh, I do," she assured me; "and so do you.
Right there in the daily log." She leaned away from the chair and
started back toward the companionway. "Do move us to a hot-pad,
Captain; there's a good girl."

It took me a long time to move, after she
was gone. The first thing I did was open the log and read the thing
she'd put there, sealed with my own codes.

Ship and blood. Mam'd told me to save things
in that order, always. Ship first, then blood. I'd never in life
have signed such a thing, nor agreed for the sake of a
cantra...

Ship and blood. I thumbprinted the invoice
and put the call through for the ready-pad. I okay'd those charges,
too, forgetful of the meaning of the numbers; and then I went to my
bunk to lie down, sealing the door and detaching the bell.

After a time of lying there in cold terror,
eyes screwed shut against the awful sight of the ceiling, I fell
asleep and I dreamed.

The dream was a confusion of pointing
fingers and harsh voices making accusations that echoed into
meaninglessness. At the center of it all stood my goddess of the
barroom, her hair quiescent, though her eyes were not; and the one
word that echoed clearly from the finger-pointers was "Recant!"

The word that I woke with among pounding
head was hers, shaping my mouth with Her will: "No."

* * *

THE SHIP WAS QUIET. World-clock showed
midnight, straight up. Ship clock showed 0200.

I made myself a cup of 'toot and slid into
the pilot's chair, worry gnawing at my gut. Cly Nelbern was surely
mad, with more than grounder lunacy. No simple dockside bully, she;
but a dangerous woman, and on more levels than gave me comfort.

The man? The man was desperate, and that
carried its own brand of danger. But he seemed sane enough, and
perhaps might be turned a card--made a pawn. Sacrificed for ship
and blood.

It was snatching at starlight, of course,
and madness in its own way, but I had to try something, there in
the dark quiet; had to make some stab at saving my ship, my
sister.

Curiously, it was Nelbern's money that
bought me a way to make that stab, sorry as it might be. I set
aside my cold drink and cycled the chair forward. I'd never had the
credit to tap into a current planetary data bank before. We'd
always bought old records--last week's cargo movements, yesterday's
closing prices, and left it at that--but not this time.

I typed in Pirro Velesz' name. I tapped the
dot for full database inspection. I offered up a prayer to whatever
gods might be awake and listening, there in the deep heart of the
night.

Then I went to sleep.

* * *

CLY NELBERN WOKE me by laughing, waving a
hand at the screen where Velesz' information glittered like an
unexplored star system.

"That's close to the way I found him,
Captain, except that I didn't have a name--I just looked for a
desperate person."

She laughed again, harder.

"That's how I found
Mona Luki
, too. Hard as
you try to hide it, the information's there. I
know
how to read that spiral. Dreamers
like you and that greengrocer--always thinking you'll find a way to
beat the universe.

"I've seen it over and over
again. You think you're something special. Think luck'll be with
you. Well, you got lucky, Captain. I found you, thought you'd be
useful and pulled you out of your downspin.
I'm
your luck, and if you're a smart
girl, you'll ride easy with me, no arguments."

She waved at the screen again.

"But you want to know all about Senor Velesz
--go ahead--read it. It's not a secret, is it?" Her words bit, deep
and bitter, but I couldn't think of anything useful to say to a
dirtsider who held mortgage to my ship and my kin, so I spun the
chair back around and I read.

* * *

THE SHORT OF IT was that Pirro Velesz got
himself suckered on a contract to supply some upcountry Temple with
vittles for a year. When he couldn't make delivery the Temple took
his business and put him to work at the rate of a standard year for
each month the Temple had to buy its food from someplace else. He
had the option of buying himself out, of course--but he'd rolled
everything on that losing deal--and no one on Sintia would lend
money to a Temple debtor.