‘Raptorid,’ came a thin, slightly nasal accent. Kris reckoned it came from somewhere central and settled in the Colonies. ‘This is Mordant’s Hammer requesting an address with the respected Boyarin Uskaro of Fief Yachellow.’
Idris jolted to his feet hard enough to crack his head on the curved side of the hull. ‘That’s got to be a very poor joke,’ he got out.
‘Isn’t Mordant . . .’ Kris started uncertainly.
‘They’re saying they’re the secret police,’ he said, and when that didn’t seem to make much sense even to himself, he added, ‘The blatant secret police. When Mordant House throws its weight around, they show it in the names of their ships.’
Over the comms came the sound of the operator, sounding cagey. ‘Mordant’s Hammer this is Raptorid. The noble Boyarin would ask for your credentials and to what he owes the pleasure of your presence?’
‘Nativist bastard’s a little leery when the actual authorities turn up,’ Olli muttered. ‘I guess the whole of Hugh doesn’t quite belong to them yet, then.’
‘There’s some kind of ID coming through. Looks . . . genuine? Idris?’
‘I’m no expert. If you think it’s sound, probably it’s sound. Mordant House. Damn me.’ He looked sick with the thought. ‘They’re here for me.’
‘You somehow failed to mention that the Hugh spook squad were after you, ever,’ Kris noted, guessing that at least half of this was his normal paranoia.
Sure enough, he hesitated. ‘Well . . .’
‘I mean, it’s not like we haven’t gotten mixed up in a whole world of other pain recently,’ she pointed out calmly. ‘Maybe it’s not all about you.’
‘Raptorid, this is Agent Havaer Mundy of the Intervention Board. I claim eminent domain of the vessel you are detaining and all of its crew. I appreciate your assistance in holding them, but kindly repatriate any you might have taken aboard and decouple. Your cooperation is noted – and Mordant House always remembers.’ The words came over without much inflection, all business and no threat, until you read between them. Oh he’s got our man Uskaro’s number all right.
‘Hailing us now,’ Olli said, and that same calm voice came to them.
‘Partheni packet runner Dark Joan, it is my sincere belief that you are not carrying diplomatic personnel or restricted data that places you outside jurisdiction. Therefore I am requesting that you follow your original course and dock with the Vulture God, which I am taking under my control. Please do not deviate from that course.’
Kris brought up an image of the Hammer, which was cruising in at some speed. It was a blunt-nosed vessel with a heavy head and a bulky torus body. As close as you could get to being a light fighting ship without painting her up in navy colours. Kris could even see two banks of heavy accelerators ready to shred any ship that didn’t fall into line.
‘How are the Joan’s shields. Could we survive that?’ she asked, indicating the weaponry.
‘For a short period of time,’ Solace confirmed. ‘But we’re massively outclassed here – and the Vulture can’t handle that kind of firepower at all.’
‘The Raptorid’s backing off,’ Olli noted. ‘They don’t fancy it either, and they’re tougher than we are.’
‘They don’t want to be on the Mordant shit list. And neither do we,’ Kris said hollowly.
‘We already are. Look at the fucker they sent after us!’
‘Think about what we’ve been involved in recently. You think Hugh didn’t sit up and take notice the moment word came that we’d hauled an Architect-touched ship into Lung-Crow?’ Kris demanded. ‘This doesn’t have to be our trouble. We just need to be frank and honest and not assume they’re going to screw us.’
‘They are going to screw us,’ Olli insisted. ‘But I don’t see what we can do other than bend over. Kit’s out there and he’s not even a Colonial citizen. He’s utterly fucked if we just hightail it away.’
A glance was exchanged: Olli to Idris, Idris to Solace, Solace to Kris. Trine’s holographic face just gurned through a series of frustrated expressions, looking at all of them at once.
‘Hammer, this is the Dark Joan. We’re coming in,’ Kris confirmed. Better than being at the mercy of the Magdans. Maybe. Possibly.
20.
Havaer
‘Havaer Mundy?’ asked Keristina Soolin Almier. ‘Wait, like the Ragman? The “Travelled Opinions” guy?’