The Ship Who Sang (27 page)

‘Rather pointless to waste your valuable time, Chief, discussing it then, isn't it?' Helva asked just as Parollan got to his feet.

‘Why, I don't think the Chief would ever consider you a waste of his time, Helva,' Parollan said, his eyes mocking, challenging her. ‘Of course, if you've made other plans on the way back from Borealis, it was real courteous of you to check in here and say goodbye.' He turned on
his heel and started purposefully for the lock. ‘Drop in again some time.'

‘Just a minute, Parollan,' Railly said.

The Chief managed to control his expression but Breslaw looked close to panic and Dobrinon's smile had frozen in alarm. Whatever they had had in mind for her must be mighty big. She didn't trust any ploy of Parollan's but these other two were keen, solid, honorable specialists. It wouldn't hurt to listen.

Parollan got to the lock, turned to give her a hearty wave.

‘Parollan!'

He halted, hand on the left rail, his face expressing only polite attention. He wasn't giving anything away.

‘What had you cooked up, Parollan?'

‘I? I'd
cooked up
nothing.'

Helva ignored Dobrinon's startled exclamation.

‘We had,' Parollan admitted after a glance at the Chief, ‘discussed another assignment for the TH-834 after that spectacular drug-run. Naturally that mission has been aborted due to circumstances beyond our control.'

Helva chuckled to herself. He hadn't let her off lightly on the matter of Teron after all. He'd needle her for the next 25 years for that mistake . . .

‘As a matter of purely academic interest – until those rewards are posted to me – would you deign to discuss this aborted mission?'

‘No harm in discussing it, certainly,' he agreed as he sauntered back into the cabin, ‘while we wait for confirmation from Federation.' He settled his wiry body into a comfortable position before he continued. ‘It had originally been planned to assign the TH-834 to the projected Beta Corvi mission.'

‘Beta Corvi?' Helva suppressed the flicker of alarm. Then she laughed out loud. ‘Teron of Acthion in a Corviki shell, coping with the environment?'

Niall regarded her sardonically for a moment. ‘You yourself made the point that Ansra Colmer, a true egocentric, singleminded, stubborn, and pragmatic as hell, suffered the least personality trauma from the phenomena of the Corviki transfer. Teron was so well endowed with the same sterling attributes that it was obvious he'd . . .'

‘. . . Not last a minute as a personality on Beta Corvi, and you know it, Niall Parollan. That man was incapable of coping with such anomalies.' Parollan's tactics infuriated her. Why, what he had suggested was nothing short of bald murder. And he'd talked Railly into the scheme? Had they both wanted to get rid of Teron?

‘Now, really, Helva,' Railly said, stepping forward as if separating two antagonists, ‘I was never in favor of Teron as your brawn, if you'll forgive the reminder . . .'

‘
You
were right, Chief,' Helva said in so sweet
and contrite a tone that Parollan snorted his disgust.

‘. . . And sorry to be, I assure you. However, no harm appears to have resulted.'

‘Except that Helva's now a free agent,' Parollan said in a completely expressionless voice.

‘Exactly,' Railly continued with unexpected enthusiasm. ‘And, unless Helva has other plans in mind, perhaps we all can make her see the advantage of undertaking this new mission in spite of her changed status.'

There was an odd half-smile on Parollan's face as he returned his Chiefs intense stare.

‘Yes, perhaps we can,' the Supervisor said with a hearty lack of enthusiasm.

Helva saw Dobrinon give him a quizzical look and Breslaw was plainly startled. Something was going amiss with their sales pitch?

‘Well then, Helva,' Railly started off determinedly, ‘
have
you any plans in mind?'

‘She's had no time to advertise,' Niall said abruptly. ‘She made no planetary calls on the return trip here. And I doubt that even the most assiduous of our known informers has had time to discover that the XH-834 has Paid-off. It so rarely occurs this early in service.'

‘I'll answer for myself, thank you, Parollan.'

The others were staring at their colleague with blank astonishment. The atmosphere in the cabin had become strained. Helva was at a loss to figure out why Parollan was deliberately
disrupting the mood Railly was attempting to create. Trust him to have an ulterior motive – but what?

‘So my enterprising supervisor planned to have me go back to Beta Corvi? That somewhat explains Admiral Dobrinon's presence. And you, Commander Breslaw? Or is Engineering bidding against Xeno for my services?'

‘We were hoping to combine forces, Helva,' Dobrinon answered after an uncomfortable pause.

Someone has missed his cue, Helva thought.

‘It seemed appropriate,' Breslaw said, breaking his silence, ‘that you should be the first ship to benefit from the discoveries resulting from the Beta Corvi data you brought back.'

If Engineering had used the stabilizing key for unstable isotopes . . .

‘Just how would I have benefited?' Helva asked casually. She kept one eye on Parollan. He was adept at titillation. She wouldn't put it past him to have staged this whole thing, including his own apparent disinterest, to arouse her to indiscretion. Of course, she'd want an improved f.t.l. drive!

‘When we began to study the basic theories,' Breslaw was saying, ‘we could see an immediate application to our present f.t.l. system. You're surely aware, Helva, that the potential of the f.t.l. principle is vastly beyond present performance. The problem has been an energy source that could tolerate the demands full f.t.l. speed
requires. The Corviki data makes intergalactic travel possible in this decade. This year!'

Intergalactic travel? Helva's excitement matched Breslaw's. Between which galaxies? This one and . . . the Horsehead Nebula?

‘Yes, intergalactic distances traversed in a fraction of present estimates,' Railly said, as if he sensed they had her attention. ‘Imagine it, Helva, unlimited power, literally inexhaustible power, to take you to the edge of the galaxies visible from the rim of the Milky Way. Beyond any space now known to man.' Railly spoke urgently, firing her desire. ‘Power to make those f.t.l. drive components work efficiently for the first time since they were designed. All we've lacked has been a constant fuel source to stand up to the drain of energy required. And you've the chance to explore unknown space. You can chart new star systems, open up whole galaxies for Central Worlds.'

That reminder brought her out of those stars.

‘Interesting. Very interesting. The f.t.l. always has been a case of having a good cart and no draft animal strong enough. However, if this radical new development stemmed from the Corviki data, why is another mission necessary?'

Railly gestured to Breslaw, who began whipping out cubegraphs and computer tapes, which he arranged nervously on her console.

‘With the Corviki data for stabilizing unstable isotopes, we were able to make use of that
form of waste energy, not just for the fractional seconds of half-life before the AMUs deteriorated, but for as long as that power was needed. Imagine it, Helva,' said Breslaw, eyes glowing with wonder, ‘the power of an exploding star, always equal to that of the exploding star at its highest energy level.'

The cabin seemed to darken at his words. It was an exploding star – operating at its highest energy level – Ravel's sun, that had burned Jennan to death as she had frantically tried to outrun its fantastic energy but to have such a power . . .
enslaved to her requirements?

She
had
to have it. An inner nova to expiate the crime of the outer. Hammuraban justice at its purest! She forced herself to listen to Breslaw's explanations.

‘Admittedly, Helva, there are tremendous subtleties involved which, I readily confess, no one in my team is scientifically sophisticated enough to appreciate. It's almost as if the Corvi were discussing personal intimacies rather than sub-particular facts, but the result is a fantastic discipline of nucleonic forces.

‘As you'll notice, Helva,' and he pointed to the first cube and tapped the equations into the ship's computer, ‘the isotopes are permitted to radiate energy in cycles, but instead of a decrease in the energy available as deterioration occurs, the energy level remains constant. By varying the number of cycles initiated per second, or millisecond for that matter,' and
Breslaw beamed with paternal fondness for the abilities of his development, ‘the f.t.l. drive receives the power it requires to exceed the speed of light by any multiple required. To traverse a given distance, in a given length of time, the original f.t.l. equations supply the rate of cycle variation needed!'

With an unexpectedly dramatic flourish for such a pragmatic man, Breslaw tapped out a set of voyage requirements.

‘If you have to get to, say, Mirfak, in 2 standard days, you can, now. Instead of taking . . . oh, how long?'

‘Four weeks.' Helva supplied the answer absently, more intent on following the print-in of the profoundly interesting equations.

‘Four weeks then. Well, you can see the advantages.'

And then Helva understood what necessitated the new mission to Beta Corvi.

‘One would scarcely try to release that kind of energy within a solar system without knowing the subjective and objective effects. What disadvantages have you observed?' she asked. ‘Are these computations based on experiment, or sheer theory?'

Doubt and concern dampened Breslaw's ardor. ‘We have tested the CV energy source, Cycle Variant. We took every possible precaution, used a very slow cyclage rate. It was impossible,' he said, grimacing, ‘to keep the experimental vessel in range of the testing instrumentation . . .'

‘The vehicle was manned, or BB?'

‘Manned.' Breslaw's answer was just audible.

‘The effect of such acceleration on the personnel was fatal?'

‘Not that we know of.' Breslaw glanced sharply at Railly, who had been talking in a low voice to Parollan. Before Helva could turn up her audio, the two separated, Railly joining Dobrinon on the couch, leaving Parollan alone, opposite them. Niall's face was inscrutably polite, his eyes guarded.

‘Well, why don't you know?'

‘The vessel has not returned. The estimated time of arrival is 9 years standard. It has been sighted returning on normal drive. Their last intercepted communication indicated we must proceed with immense caution in the use of this power source.'

‘Evidently. I'd also hazard a heavy hand was on the CV switch to get that far out of com range. You should have used a BB ship with no fragile brawns to clutter up the test run.'

‘There was also a suggestion that we may have misused the Beta Corvi data,' Breslaw went on, nodding thoughtfully at her observation. ‘You can easily extrapolate the destructive potential of the CV factor. We must be sure we have not perverted the data and unleashed uncontrollable or unstable emissions that might have cosmic repercussions.' Breslaw looked toward her, worried and hopeful.

That could be some pile to put rods in, Helva
mused, although she hoped they wouldn't have to damp that reactor. Intergalactic travel! The test ship flung
9 years
away from known space!

‘First, I am gratified by the confidence you have in me, gentlemen,' she said after a long moment. ‘However, I cannot help wondering if you selected me because, being Paid-off – in theory, that is – I am therefore most expendable, constituting no embarrassing debit loss on the fiscal records.'

Only Parollan appreciated her levity and he laughed with uninhibited delight.

‘Your facetious attitude is ill-timed, Helva,' Railly remonstrated. ‘You are the least expendable of our ship personnel. I fail to see, Parollan, the humor in such an outrageous suggestion.' There was no mistaking the anger behind his reprimand.

‘In that case,' Helva said, ‘you're a low species of extortionist.'

‘What?' Railly bellowed, diverted from Niall.

‘You know perfectly well, Chief Railly, that I'd want to possess such a drive once I knew of its existence. I'd certainly want to remain in Central Worlds Service to get it!'

Parollan sobered instantly, staring at her.

‘That's the game isn't it?' Helva demanded, her voice cold because she was talking to Parollan and he knew it now. He kept staring at her, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

‘Frankly, yes,' Railly answered when it was
obvious Parollan would not. ‘And there's not much time for you to decide.'

‘How so?'

Some subtle change in Railly's face roused her to a bitter anger. So this was how Central Worlds treated their BB ships. She
should
have called in Double M and SPRIM. She should have got in touch with Broley. Let Central Worlds fight its own fires.

‘Central Worlds is bound by Federation directives, Helva, directives controlled and promulgated by the peoples of the civilized galaxy. There is no latitude on some of those strictures. You are under your original obligation to Central Worlds until those additional bonuses come through from Federation. After that, an entirely different set of directives controls the kind of authority, the type of contract, the wording and restrictions of the clauses, the payments and prerogatives of any further dealings we have with a BB ship. If we operated any other way, Helva,' Railly went on implacably, ‘we would have the humanities' guardians scanning our tapes, sitting on our shoulders, hindering our operations. You have proved to be an extremely capable contractee. The Service needs you. Our need has, so far, been to your benefit. You have been given extraordinary opportunities to achieve Pay-off early in your career. We felt you might consider that at this time, when we are offering you the chance to be the first BB ship with a fully realized f.t.l. drive.'