‘They look hot, those things,’ Rollo said, around a spoon of algae.
‘And heavy, but that’s responsibility, isn’t it?’ Sathiel smiled, as though faintly embarrassed by all of it. ‘Captain, we have a mutual problem, you and I, and it’s sitting in Bay 98 right now.’
‘You have a problem with my ship, friend?’ Rollo asked him mildly.
‘You have the problem,’ Sathiel said. ‘Right at this moment, a certain station administrator of our acquaintance is looking into impounding it for her own purposes. She wishes to retain control of a . . . sensitive cargo you brought back from the deep void.’
‘This is perhaps the worst-kept secret I’ve ever encountered in my long career,’ Rollo remarked.
‘Some of the administrative staff know how our masters may be best-served,’ Sathiel said piously. ‘We therefore heard you have evidence of an Architect attack, a recent one too. You can appreciate this is of prime importance to the galaxy as a whole, and the Hegemony in particular.’
‘You mean if you parade our “cargo” about in public, everyone will suddenly want to wear a fancy robe like yours,’ Olli said sharply.
The cultists bristled, but Sathiel took no overt offence. ‘Do you not think, Mesdam Timo, that people deserve the chance to save their worlds from destruction? Or should we wait until an Architect appears over Ossa or Faedrich perhaps?’
‘Why not just swash your robes at station admin then?’ Medvig’s comment was even blunter than customary, perhaps because half of their processing power was devoted to eating.
‘I think you’ve already discovered that we’re experiencing some . . . unrest here,’ Sathiel told them. ‘And our local admins, who were vociferously anti-Hegemony, are now trying to grab power by any means possible. There are also Nativist sympathizers in positions of authority. I would rather be in possession of the Oumaru and then ask permission, to stop anything happening to it.’
‘Wait,’ Solace broke in. ‘Do you have someone on your payroll who has a sort of . . . insect thing plugged into his back?’ She exchanged glances with Kris.
‘A Tothiat, you mean?’ Sathiel asked. ‘Not in my retinue. It’s a rare adaptation . . .’
So who was that ‘Tothiat’， exactly? One more complicating factor.
‘What are you proposing, Your Wisdom?’ Rollo asked.
‘I am suggesting that your people and my people go down to the bay, in defiance of the impounding order. I will ensure that all staff on duty are keen to earn favour with our masters, and thereby clear your way. You can then take your ship out and leave the Oumaru in full view outside the orbital. Everyone will see it and know just what happened,’ Sathiel said. ‘And then we can put all this ridiculous cloak-and-dagger business out of the way and proceed into the future like grown-ups. What do you say?’
Rollo glanced at Kittering, whose arm-screens were running with a screed of Colvul text: contractual terms and rates. Apparently the only variable the factor was concerned about was not doing it for free. Then the captain looked to Kris.
‘Factor Leng won’t be happy,’ the lawyer opined.
‘A matter of less than no consequence to me,’ Rollo decided. ‘Nobody who wants to tie down my ship is a friend. And what about your lot?’ A frank stare at Solace.
‘Me?’
‘Tell me you didn’t skip straight off and tell your people what we had here?’ Not angry, but not smiling right now either. ‘Parthenon’s already taking action to keep this for themselves, maybe? You tell me.’
But Solace found she didn’t know. Probably, if she contacted Tact right now, she’d be told the secret must be kept for a few more days to give the Parthenon room to manoeuvre. Except the Parthenon seemed very far away and the Vulture and its crew were right here. And their ship was their entire livelihood, their home and everything they had.
‘Do it. Let’s go,’ she heard herself say. She was keenly aware of Idris staring at her. ‘If there’s Partheni trouble, I’ll field it, Captain.’
Rollo’s gaze bored into her and he nodded curtly. ‘Welcome to the crew, my daughter,’ he said. She felt a spike of utterly misplaced pride, that she hated herself for only a moment later.
*
They finished the meal, because it was good eating. If you were Colonial, dinner invites didn’t happen very often. Nobody could get very drunk under the circumstances, but the mood certainly lightened. Rollo and Sathiel ended up swapping anecdotes at the head of the table.