The Ship Who Sang (31 page)

She had to get in touch with Niall. She'd work with another brawn, if he would stay on as supervisor. She couldn't allow him to sacrifice everything on her account.

She scanned outside anxiously. The area was heavy with small craft traffic. Railly was mounting an intensive search. If Broley wouldn't help, how could she find Niall?

Well, there was another way to accomplish the
same end. And it was patent that Railly's objective was to proceed with the Beta Corvi thing. All right, then . . .

Before she could open a channel, a signal came through from the Tower. Railly advised her with stiff formality to open her com screen. The picture cleared to show Railly, shoulders thrown back, eyes straight ahead and unfocused, sitting at a littered desk, an aide hovering fearfully in the background. There were two other men in the room; the older one with a sad face wore the SPRIM uniform of green and gold. The other man was younger, with a taciturn expression in his shrewd eyes. He looked completely at ease and idly tapped the elegant boot of his crossed leg.

‘Captain Amiking of SPRIM and Mr Rocco of Double M are here in answer to a complaint registered on your behalf, XH-834.' Railly's voice was as grim as his expression.

‘Yes, our informant says you have enough credits from your last assignment, Helva, to Pay-off,' Rocco smoothly interjected, appearing not to notice that Railly hadn't finished his prefacing remark.

‘Some Federation credits are still pending,' Helva replied, conceiving it politic to be truthful, particularly if it would leaven Railly's anger.

‘The credits are in but . . .' Railly began.

‘Then the original financial obligation incurred by the XH-834 has been satisfied?' Amiking asked in a gentle voice.

‘Yes, however . . .'

‘The contingent of servicemen clustered so congenially on the landing pad occupied by Helva are there, then, to protect her from the importunities of independent bidders?' Rocco asked.

Railly compressed his lips into a very thin line as he stared coldly back at the Double M representative.

‘Otherwise it looks very much like a form of moral restraint, for Helva could certainly not remove herself, if she so desired, without charting them. Which a BB ship cannot do. They ought to withdraw. Immediately.'

‘This is a Service Base, Mr Rocco . . .'

‘Immediately, Chief Railly, or Captain Amiking and I will be forced to suspect coercion.' The Double M agent smiled indolently but his voice, too, had a cold, hard sound.

Railly barked at his aide, who fumbled with the com-unit. Almost instantly the men on her landing site began to disperse.

‘Have they left, Helva?'

‘Yes, Mr Rocco. But you must understand that I extended my Central Worlds contract.'

‘So I'd heard,' Rocco remarked, his eyes glittering as he turned politely to her. ‘Which makes a guard totally uncalled for. However, I'd also heard that one of the conditions of the extension specifically requested by you cannot now be filled through circumstances beyond your control. Therefore, that contract is invalid . . .'

‘That contract is not invalid until Central Worlds has failed to fulfill that condition!' Railly said, emphasizing his words with an angry fist on the desk.

‘Which they cannot do,' Rocco countered with equal emphasis. ‘Niall Parollan was the brawn of your choice, isn't that correct, Helva?'

‘Yes, but . . .'

‘He has resigned from the Service and is no longer available . . .'

‘Niall Parollan will be on board the XH-834 by nightfall,' Railly bellowed, rising to his feet to tower over the others. ‘That condition will be met and the contracted assignment will proceed.'

‘
If
you can find Niall Parollan,' Rocco amended.

‘Gentlemen, this is ridiculous,' Helva said, raising her voice to be heard. ‘Yes, I wanted Niall Parollan as my partner. I am sorry that he could not oblige me. I deeply regret that he felt it necessary to resign from the Service to emphasize that reluctance. But I would not coerce him into accepting an onerous duty . . . Hound him. I'd rather discuss another brawn assignment.'

‘Why you fickle-minded, double-crossing, wire-haired retard of a tin-assed martyr,' a rasping voice roared from her main corridor. ‘You'll discuss another brawn assignment?'

Niall Parollan stood by the open drive-room hatch, his torn mechanics overall grimed, his angry face scratched and smeared.

‘Don't try to fool me, Helva, that's Parollan,' Railly yelled from the comscreen.

‘It is, and I deal with him first, Railly!' Helva cried. She cut the connection, slammed the lock shut, activated the tamperproof field on her hull. She was going to thrash this out right now. ‘What do I mean by discussing another brawn assignment? What alternative do you leave me, you drunken, womanizing, litersized knave! How else can I get Railly to lift the search and let you go free?'

‘Free? Who's free? The moment I leave you alone you're ready to sell yourself right back into slavery! Of all the stupid, half-brained, short-sighted, fardling foolish . . .'

‘Foolish?' Helva sputtered with rage and indignation. ‘Look at you, selling off 7 years' hard work and rank because you're too damned bed-happy to go on one lousy mission for me. Force me to mortgage my soul for the second time in 2 days . . .'

‘Rocco and Amiking got here, didn't they? They were to see Railly before he got out of bed to be sure you'd go free. Next thing I know that queen gossip Broley is telling me there's a full search on and . . .' His agitated recital broke off. He gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing so angrily Helva knew that Broley's sermon had been read in pure vitriol. ‘Rocco and Amiking are with Railly now, aren't they?' he asked with considerably less vehemence.

‘Yes, they are.' She matched her tone to his,
too relieved to have him safely aboard to prolong a quarrel. ‘And you'd better have a sound explanation for Railly in nothing flat, because there's a no-nonsense penetration team assembling on the pad. And Railly knows my release syllables, too.'

Niall didn't need that reminder as he heard the penetration team clank against the outer hull.

‘You fool, you could have been all clear,' he murmured, more desperate now than angry.

‘Just the Beta Corvi mission, Niall. That's what he wants.'

Niall jerked his head up. ‘I don't think it's that simple even for Railly.'

‘If the CV drive's good, I'm ahead of the game,' she said. ‘If it's bust, then I'm free and so are you!'

‘Free?' Niall repeated softly but there was an odd grin on his tired face. He put one hand out, gently stroked the panel, sensitive fingertips finding and running along the all but invisible seam of her quarters. ‘I'm no more free than you are, Helva. But, as the gods are my witness, I tried to get you out of this fardling foul contract I cooked up.' Deliberately he jammed one fist against the column, breaking the skin and bloodying his hand.

‘Stop it, Parollan. If we couldn't settle a piddling 500,000 debt in less than 10 years, we're not the team I think we are!'

He had cocked his fist to strike again, but he
stepped back, staring at her, eyes wide with surprise and hope.

‘You know, you're right. Absolutely right.'

‘Of course I am. And if you've got to exact penance, get the hell on the com and persuade Railly to call off that penetration team!'

He was already at the console, banging for vision, forgetting that Helva would do it faster for him.

‘What'n'hell's going on out there, Railly? Damnall, can't a brawn leave his ship alone on a Service Base, for chrissake, without finding her subjected to some asinine indignity? I thought that nardy Beta Corvi flap had top priority! Where are the specs? Where are Breslaw's models? I need Dobrinon's files. How in hell can we lift off in 5 days unless you move those lazy techs!'

‘Parollan,' Railly began with a full spleen to unload, ‘you're under arrest. You're fined. You're . . .'

‘I resigned, remember, Railly?' Niall roared back, gathering fresh impetus. ‘You have no authority to fine or arrest or order
me
anywhere. I'm a citizen of Central Worlds, acting as mobile partner to the Helva-834. She contracted a mission with you, stipulating in Paragraph 6, Section 1, that she would have free choice of aforesaid partner, to wit, one Niall Parollan. There was nothing taped about the rank or status of said Niall Parollan. And, if you think you can make something of it, my resignation is
time-stamped before those Federation credits came in. Therefore,
before
the contract extension took effect. Now, if you want to tie this ship up in a court battle over who bosses who, go right ahead. But if you want to get this ship off her expensive ass to Beta Corvi to vet your lovely new power source, you'd better start moving!'

Helva should have known that Niall would neither explain or humble himself. And perhaps such an offensive was the only effective method of dealing with Railly. She could feel sorry for the Chiefs aide, standing in paralyzed shock at Railly's elbow. She was glad for his sake as well as theirs that Rocco and Amiking were still there. In fact, she didn't doubt that Niall counted on their presence to force Railly to accept this bald revision of the facts.

And the Chief was going to have to accept this version. He had no choice and no recourse, not before representatives of powerful organizations that he could not antagonize.

‘You'll move, Parollan,' he vowed in a strangled voice, ‘and you'll work like you never believed a team could work.'

‘Naturally.'

‘And one day . . .' Railly grated out the words, ‘one day, Parollan, you're going to outsmart yourself!'

‘No prophecies, Chief, just the tapes and models. Nice to see you, Rocco, Captain. Signing off.'

As the screen blanked, Niall turned back to Helva, his expression oddly defenseless.

‘He'd give his pension to know I already have, wouldn't he, Helva?' He spoke in a quiet, resigned voice, but his wide grin took away the sting. And the look in his eyes, possessive, proud, loving, intensely alive, made Helva's mind reel with joy.

They'd come through this crisis together after all. They could face any challenge. They knew each other better than she and Jennan ever had. They knew each other's strengths – and flaws. This was going to be bright heaven with fireworks, a constant stretching toward challenge and achievement. Helva longed to extend this ardent moment. Such pure happiness was so rare, so fragile.

The Cencom beeped to shatter it.

‘Ah, Mr Parollan? I mean, XH, ah, NH-834?' a nervous voice stammered.

‘Parollan here,' he said without glancing away from her column, knowing she'd open the channel.

‘Sir, we can't use the lift to make delivery because . . .'

Helva cut him off as she belayed the tamper field, restored the lift power and slid the lock open.

‘Fardles, what a way to take command. Look at me!' Niall swore, suddenly, aware of externals again, of the filthy clothes he wore. ‘I'd've been cleaner if they'd dragged me back.' He began to strip off the torn clothes as he strode toward the pilot's quarters. ‘Order me some gear from Base
quartermaster, Helva. They know my size. Tell someone to pick up a small black carrier on guard post 17. And, oh yes – the perimeter sensors are shorted between 17 and 18.'

He continued to give instructions while showering, dressing in the hastily delivered shipsuit, grabbing a quick meal from the galley. Neither her lift nor com-circuits were free a moment. The main cabin sprouted additional tables to accommodate the drive models and the tape files Dobrinon rushed over. Niall sent for every film-strip from the exploratory ship. He seemed indefatigable, yet he'd been up the previous night and running half the day. Railly could never work Niall as hard as he'd work himself . . . and her.

‘Hey, Helva,' Niall said suddenly, squinting toward the open lock, ‘turn on some light. I can barely see.'

‘I'd no idea it had got so late.' She scanned the equatorial dusk.

Just then the mellow brass voice of a trumpet from the top of Base Tower sounded the ceremonial day's end call. Day's end . . . and requiem. The rich measured notes floated over the great Service Base, out to the distant cemetery under the great trees. Once she'd heard it only as requiem. Tonight . . . each day dies, Helva thought, to let night with its darkness for sorrowing and sleep complete its course and bring . . . a new day. Taps, a simple, poignant statement of end and beginning.

Goodbye, Jennan. Welcome, Niall.

As the last note died away in dark space and in her heart, she saw Niall's knowing eyes on her – wary, expectant.

‘Such a sentimental tradition for a modern Service,' Helva murmured. ‘. . . Blowing taps at sundown.'

‘And you love it,' he said, unexpectedly, in a grating voice. ‘You'd have tears in your eyes – if you could.'

‘Yes,' she admitted. ‘I would. If I could.'

‘It's a good thing I'm so nasty. Balances your soft heart – partner,' he said. ‘Helva! Don't ever change.'

He might as well have been singing.

 

THE END

Also by Anne McCaffrey

Anne McCaffrey's books can be read individually or as series. However, for greatest enjoyment the following sequences are recommended:

The Dragon Books

DRAGONFLIGHT

DRAGONQUEST

DRAGONSONG

DRAGONSINGER: HARPER OF PERN

THE WHITE DRAGON