The Bright Black Sea (16 page)

I edged closer to Min, braced myself, lifted her body
from the snowbank and arranged it the best I could over my
shoulder, seeking the best balance. Then, with a rush of breathless
curses, I managed to get my feet under me and lurch upwards.
Standing, I swayed as I sought to get my balance, and staggered
into the fog towards the
Ghost
before I collapsed again. She
was slightly built and with her artificial legs, weighed little
enough for someone used to gravity, but I'd spent the last two
decades mostly in space, where weightlessness to .3gee was the
norm. My heart was pounding, each step demanded a deliberate effort
as I stumped and staggered down the taxiway in a world of grey
shapes, muffled footfalls and that thumping in my chest. I thought
I'd never make the
Ghost
without stopping to rest but ,
there it was, its pale form looming before me. I stopped, braced
myself and swore.

'Blast and Blood! Neb Damn!'

I hadn't the key tab, of course. Min had it.
Somewhere. And it may only be keyed to her micro chip id.

'Damn, damn, bloody damn,' I ranted as I dropped to
one knee and let her body slip down, her legs clinking on the
pavement. I held the back of her head as I laid it down on the wet
pavement and searched for her coat pockets for the ship's key tab.
Nothing. I ripped open the mag-tabs of her scorched coat and laid
it open. I hesitated. It didn't seem right, but it must be in the
pockets of her black jacket or vest. I reached down, and pushed her
body a little to get to the jacket pocket.

'Other one. Left handed.'

I reared back. 'Blast!' It had been faint and husky,
but I hadn't said it. 'Min?' I leaned back over her. 'Min?'

Her eyes were closed, now. Her lips slightly parted,
I seemed to sense more than see a faint movement in her chest.

Faintly, her lips barely moved. 'Left pocket. Get
it.'

'Right. Of course,' I muttered, or some such thing. I
kissed her quickly on her forehead before I reached for her left
pocket, carefully moving her to reach it. I found the tab and
pulled it out.

'Will it work for me?'

She moved her head ever so slightly, 'no'. 'Put it in
my left hand.'

I fumbled with it to get it in the right position for
her finger to touch the key button and put it in her hand, and
closed my hand around hers. I felt her move her finger, and a thin
line of light appeared in the hull of the
Ghost
as the
boarding ladder began swinging down. I put the key tab in my pocket
and slipped one hand under her head and another under her back to
lift her to my chest. The boarding hatch was narrow, so I lifted
her over my shoulder again and with several more curses, managed to
get back on my feet.

Each step, a mountain to climb, but I reached the
boat's deck and hit the button to close the hatch and looked around
the small main compartment. There was a small seating area aft with
two built-in settees to which I carried Min. I dropped down next to
it. She was able to hold on to me as I lifted her legs on to the
cushions and laid her down.

'The medic kit is in the after bulkhead,' she
whispered.

I got up, found the compartment, released the box and
stumbled back. I pushed up the sleeve of her coat and opening the
medic kit, attached the sensor/treatment band to her wrist and
activated the machine and held her hand to keep it steady. I
watched the dial as it jumped to critical red, and as the sensor
readings began to be analyzed and treatments began to be
transmitted into her system, it settled into amber and down to a
non-critical yellow, the display listing a running series of
reports and treatments it was administering. I could feel some of
its healing fields through my hand. I didn't pay much attention,
most of it was beyond my limited medical knowledge. The color was
all that mattered to me, and according to that, Min was somehow
alive, and somehow, seemingly, not in great danger.

I reached over and drew her coat over her. 'It's
non-critical yellow. I think you should be okay... But I'll just go
forward for a second and call the medic service... and the
Guards.'

She shook her head 'no' without opening her eyes and
shifted her grip to hold my hand.

'Is there anything I need to do?' I asked, alarmed,
afraid the reading was wrong.

She shook her head 'no' again, and said quietly, 'I'm
feeling better. Just stay and let me think.'

'Of course,' I said watching her closely. She was
breathing fully now, and the medic kit had everything under
control. It seemed like I should be doing more than holding her
hand, but I couldn't think of anything, and well, she held my hand
tightly. I suppose the Guard could wait. Some of the wharf rats
wouldn't be moving too fast.

I knelt beside the settee and watched the dial as it
slowly turned to green over the course of perhaps a dozen minutes.
At last I asked, 'Are you alright, Tallith?'

She opened her eyes. 'Yes.' Letting go of my hand and
drawing a deep breath, she gingerly pushed herself into a shallow
sitting position against an arm rest. 'But I believe my legs are
out of commission, once again. So would you please go forward, tune
the radio to the yacht club control frequency and set it to record.
We don't need to listen to it now.'

'Right. And I'll alert the Guards. I doubt some of
those wharf rats will've made cover just yet,' I said, heaving
myself to my feet.

'No. Don't radio anyone. Just do what I asked.'

'But the Guard should be alerted. We shouldn't give
them too much time,' I protested.

'Is this what I'm to expect from you when I give an
order?' she asked softly, but with an edge. I realized I needed to
take her question, and its implication very seriously.

'Sorry. I thought that would've been the next step.
I've been a tin god for six months, now and it seemed to be the
next move...'

She shook her head. 'Do as I say, I'll explain.'

I did as ordered and returned to collapse onto the
settee opposite hers. 'So why not?”

'The wharf rats don't count,' she said slowly.
'They're only involved to muddy the waters and to take the rap when
our bodies were discovered. The assassin wasn't a wharf rat and
certainly didn't need their help to kill me. The assassin just
dragged the wharf rats along as a distraction – a false trail to
give him or her time to slip away – off planet and likely back to
the drifts. I think we punished the wharf rats enough. Sending them
to Felon's Rift seems unnecessary. Do you agree, Captain?'

I considered her question for a moment, replaying the
final scene.

'Aye, let them go... I likely owe my life to one of
them. I'd be dead if that other fellow hadn't tried to stop the
darter. He or she must have knocked the assassin's arm just enough
to make the dart fly a bit high and strike the emblem on my cap.
But that probably wasn't clear in the discharge flash. Must've
looked like I was hit since I went down right enough.'

She gave me an unreadable look and closed her eyes
for a moment before continuing, 'This was a professional operation.
I'm certain the assassin has an escape plan in place, and it
probably leads off planet. He or she may even have a boat waiting
here at the yacht club, which is why I want a radio record of boats
leaving. As for the Guards...

'Think about it. Right now we're dead in a snow bank
and unlikely to be found until tomorrow, at the earliest. It could
be several days – we're parked on the unfashionable and
unfrequented fringe of the tarmac. So unless we give ourselves away
by calling the Guard or taking off, the assassin will escape
thinking I'm – we're – dead and I'm safe from further attempts
until they come to realize I'm not dead. The longer I'm dead, the
longer I have to act without them knowing about it. Our assassin,
confident that dead men tell no tales, may've left a trail that I
might be able to pick up...' She paused, lost in thought.

Looking across on her pale, soot streaked face and
wild, disordered hair, it suddenly struck me that she should really
be dead. 'How is it you're alive? Surely those were not stun level
darts.'

She looked up at me and may have even smiled a
little, 'I'm sure they weren't. But luckily, I frighten easy.
Having barely survived one assassination attempt and with Uncle
Hawk strongly hinting that I might still be in danger, I took
precautions.' She lifted the front of her coat and waved it so that
I could see how it had been penetrated by two darts. 'My coat has
several different D-matter layers in the lining making it dart
penetration and plasma resistant, as does my pelisse and blouse. I
wasn't taking chances, and it paid off. It looks like several of
the darts actually make it through my coat and pelisse, but not my
blouse. The ones that hit my coat arm were off line to my arm. It's
standard practice to launch both armor penetrating and non
penetrating darts to make certain of the desired results, since
armor penetrating darts tend to go through an unarmored body
without discharging. Only the fact that I had three layers of dart
resistance clothing, prevented the darts from reaching my body
before discharging. You'd have needed even heavier darts to
penetrate all three levels. Still, with all that electric plasma
discharging in such close proximity, it must have shocked and
paralyzed my nervous system seeing that it was strong enough to
short circuit the motors in my expensive legs.'

'I thought you were dead. Your eyes were open and you
didn't seem to be breathing...'

'Near enough. Being bounced about on your shoulder as
you carried me likely jogged my stunned heart and lungs into
working again... In any event, my nervous system was not fried as
it would've been if the darts had fully penetrated...' She
shrugged.

I stared at her with growing alarm. 'Why would anyone
shoot you in the first place. Who wants you dead?'

She shrugged. 'I don't know who. I just know they do.
Now.'

'But Tallith, you must've some idea. If this isn't
just some crazy wharf rat antics, we need to find out who and
why... You can't just...'

She held up a hand. 'All in good time, Captain. What
I need at the moment is a set of working legs. I keep a spare pair
in the storage section under the settee behind you. Would you be so
kind as get them? Unless you want to carry me around,' she added
with a grin.

I tried to grin back, but I was too upset to make a
very credible effort. 'Right.'

She sat up as I hauled out the box. 'Put it next to
me here,' she said indicating the cushion next to her.

'Do you need help?' I asked, without thinking.

She glanced down at her short skirt and back up to me
with a mockingly innocent look. 'Thank you, but I think I can
manage, Captain. What I could use is a cup of cha. There should be
some in the galley. Take your time brewing it. You might want to
wait until I come to fetch it.'

'Right. Of course,' I said, blushing, and hurried the
few steps to the compact galley, sliding the door-panel shut behind
me.

I found the cha, added the leaves to two clearsteel
mugs and absently screwed on their covers without thinking. It
annoyed me that the cha canister, spoon and mugs all shook when I
handled them. I cursed softly under by breath. Fortunately I wasn't
in a hurry. I carefully filled them with boiling water from the
faucet and while I watched the cha brew I tried to get my hands and
racing heart under control. It was just the aftershock, I assured
myself. Still, I sensed – on the edge of my conscientiousness –
that my master plan for my life was spinning out of control. Damn,
and blast... What was I getting myself into? I was still watching
the leaves unfold in the subtle currents when the galley door-panel
slid open and Min looked in, slight and slim, rather disheveled,
but calm and collected.

She seemed subtly different. I tried to place the
change – she was shorter now. And her legs looked real.

She noticed my confusion and smiled rather sadly.
'This pair was made to duplicate my original ones. I decided that
since I was given a choice, I'd rather be taller.'

That wasn't it. Not entirely, but I put it out of
mind. 'Are you really alright, Tallith? Is there anything I can do?
I feel that I should be doing more than making a mug of cha.'

'I'm fine, Wil, and I could really use a cup of cha.
How are you doing?'

'Oh, I'm fine, more or less. Thinking about it seems
harder than just doing it. I guess I've not lived a life where I'm
attacked by wharf rats and darted on a regular basis. I thought
those things only happened to Brilliant Pax or in the yarns of the
Four Shipmates...'

She gave me a serious look, 'I'm sorry Wil. I'm
afraid that tonight you may've been drawn into the yarns of the
Four Shipmates. I'm all but certain the chain of cause and effect
leads back to them... I'm sorry you're involved. It's none of your
concern. If I'd have know just how immediate the risk was, I'd have
never come back to Calissant.'

I stared at her. 'Do you really think so? About it
going back to the Four Shipmates.'

'I've come to believe that they were running for
their lives for decades before they came to Calissant. Uncle Hawk
seemed to hint so when he visited me on Kimsai, but we – my brother
Jelter and I – had come to suspect something along those lines even
before his visit. After tonight there's simply no doubt. It would
seem that the Four Shipmate's enemies have caught up to them and
killed my parents, and perhaps Uncle Hawk and Captain Miccall as
well... And they want to kill me too.'

'Who? And Why?'

She shrugged. 'I don't know... It was their secret.
Uncle Hawk wasn't prepared to tell me, even with the death of his
old shipmates. I'm sure he suspected they'd been killed, but still
would tell us nothing. He simply urged me to stay on Kimsai until
he came for me. But he died. And well, I wasn't about to stay on
Kimsai my whole life.'