PROLOGUE

"How long?" Amos ben Sierra Nueva said
desperately.

"Another forty-five minutes, esteemed sir," the tech-
nician answered in a voice flat with focused
concentration.

Amos touched the pickup in his ear and turned back to
the low hills ahead. They were covered in pine forest, or
had been, until about an hour ago. Now they were burn-
ing, a furnace of resin-fueled candles fifty meters high.
The invaders had barred their own way with the blast of
beam-fire from the aircraft, but they seemed lazily indif-
ferent about inflicting casualties on their own forces. Hie
Bethelite nobleman ground his teeth in fury at that lord-
ly disdain; unfortunately, it seemed justified.

For now. Most of the resistance to the Kolnari
invasion had come from Bethel's planetary con-
stabulary, and the Guardians of the Temple. Those few
who didn't see the invasion as punishment for the sins
of godless young Amos ben Sierra Nueva and his fol-
lowers had, of course, resisted. The faithful had
effectively offered their throats to the pirate knife.
Sheer luck that Amos and those followers had been
preparing even if their efforts had been made against
the day when the Guardians came for them.

"Everything is in place, my brother," said the man
beside Amos in the rear seat of the pickup. Joseph ben
Said was a commoner Ñ worse than that, a bastard
from the slums of KerissÑbut he had been the first of
Amos' followers, and had proved to be the most loyal.

. Stating

Not to mention certain skills, Amos reminded himself.

"Take me forward to the bunker," he said, and cut off
Joseph's protest with a brusque chop of his hand.

The gunner behind the pintle-mounted launcher
swayed as the driver gunned the fans and slid the
vehicle down the dirt track. He was inexperienced;
they all were. The Second Revelation had trained in
secret with their hoarded weapons, preparing for the
Second Exodus to Al Mina. Official Temple policy held
there was no need to venture beyond Bethel when
three centuries of valiant breeding left the Chosen still
thin on the ground in the initial area of settlement.
There had been no time to acquire much real skill with
the tools of destruction. The measures had been
insurance, really, in case the Elders actually were will-
ing to use force to prevent the settlement of the Saffron
system's other habitable planet

Ahead, the fire throbbed and roared. The pines
were a native variety; candlestick trees, they were
called. They were explosively flammable this time of
year, and the air was thick with the heavy resinous
smoke. Dust spurted from under the car as they swung
behind the bunker, just now thrown up with farming
machines and covered with raw dirt The driver backed
and then let the vehicle settle on its flexible skirt, keep-
ing the fens running and the gunner's line of sight just
over the top of the mound.

"Good man," Amos said, thumping him on the
shoulder before he hopped down and ducked to enter
the bunker.

A display film had been tacked to one wall. It showed
footage from a pickup located a kilometer down the
road. Haifa dozen men and women in coveralls and
caps were talking into communicators or hovering
over a schematic display on a rickety camp table. In the
bunker, the air was full of a crackling tension, louder to
the nerves than the burning forest was to the ears.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT	3

Amos nodded \o...the officer, he reminded himself. No
longer friends and retainers, but warriors.

"They are coming," Rachel bint Damscus said.

Her plain bony face was tightly impassive. She was
an info-systems specialist, rare for a woman on Bethel,
where most females held to traditional feminine
careers like medicine or literature, Joseph made her a
formal bow.

"You are well, lady?" he said.

She gave a curt nod, then turned back to Amos.
"They hit the forest with some sort of indirect-fire
incendiary weapon, and now they are advancing
through it Powered vehicles. Fusion-bubble neutrino
signatures, fairly heavy ones."

"They probably do not know how common bad fires
are here," Amos said. He worked a tongue in a mouth
gone dry. Bethel vehicles used stressed-storage
batteries.

Rachel was holding up well, better than he had
expected. She had a violent temper, and he suspected a
buried streak of hysteria. She was also a daustrophobe:
the bunker would add that distress to her burdens. The
more credit to her, for conquering her phobia.

"They thought to mask their approach in the
flames," he said aloud.

Their first ambush had killed several of the invader
infantry. Even a few hours had shown how the
strangers reacted to a challenge: strike back immedi-
ately with overwhelming power. He cleared his throat
and asked calmly:

"How far are they from the mine?"

"Two kilometers and closing. Closing at twenty kph.
Onscreen."

The view through the screen tacked to the wall
trembled. That meant something was shaking the
ground under the pickup, even though it was spiked to
solid rock. Hills rose on either side ahead, everything

4	ArmeMcCaffrvy fcf SM Stirling

on fire except for the narrow stream and the road
beside it, down at the base of the massive granite slopes.
Shapes were moving through the burning trees on the
lower slopes. Dull-gleaming shapes, hard to make out
against the background, as if the surfaces were adapt-
ing themselves, chameleon-fashion, as they moved.
Low turtle-backed outlines, with long weapons jutting
from their sloped forward plates, the barrels built up
from coils or rings, some sort of wave-guide or
electromagnetic launcher.

One fighting vehicle pivoted. The muzzle flashed,
bright even through the hot-iron glow of the fires. The
viewscreen fogged slightly as a pickup was blasted into
plasma, then cleared as the system compensated by
spreading input from the others.

"Well, that gives us a due to the sensitivity of their
detectors," Joseph said. He leaned forward. "Everyone
is out of there?"

"Falling back to the launching ground. There is
nobody within fifteen kilometers," Rachel said. "We are
closest"

"Do it, then," Amos said.

She touched a control surface. The screen flashed
white and went blank. Haifa second later an actinic
glare flashed through the bunker, reflected in from the
rear entrance but still bright enough to make their
goggles darken protectively. Sound and shock followed
in a few heartbeats: a roar like God returning in anger,
an earthquake rumble through the soil, then a wave of
heat and pressure making their ears pop.

"So Keriss died," Rachel said absently, to herself.
"Tamik saw it He said the flash was like the sword of
God, and the waves a kilometer high when they broke
over the Peninsula mountains."

"Everyone leave," Amos said quietly, glancing down
at the watch woven into his sleeve. There was nothing
else to say. Rachel's family had lived in Keriss, the

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT	5

capital city of Bethel. So had most of Amos' surviving
kindred, and Joseph's, if he had any. "We will rendez-
vous in forty minutes at the shuttle." He paused. "And
Rachel?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Well done. Very well done."

When they left the bunker, the pillar of cloud was
already flattening out high in the stratosphere.

CHAPTER ONE

"SSS." The sensor overwatch AI filtered a possible
message out of the interstellar background and passed
it through to the controller of Station SSS-900.

"Hissing again, are we?" Simeon muttered absendy
at the subprogram, and turned his attention back to
the simulacrum.

Napoleon had just pushed the British north of Not-
tingham. Wounded, exhausted soldiers sprawled
across the fields where the defeated army camped, as
the rain drained down, gray skies darkening over
trampled muddy fields. Away across the rolling
landscape fires still flickered, where dead men lay
gaping around smashed cannon. The women were out
with lanterns, looking for their husbands and sons.

A dispatch rider came clattering up to Wellesley's
tent with news of the Jacobin uprisings in Birmingham
and Manchester, and a landing of the Irish rebels. The
big beak-nosed man stood in the open flap of the tent
as the dripping militiaman saluted clumsily and
handed over the dispatches, blinking in the driving
rain.

"The devil with it," he muttered, turning to the map-
table within and unfolding the heavy wax-sealed
papers. "It's too bad. If we'd won that last battle ... if
wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Still, it was a
damned near-run thingÑa very near thing."

He looked up. "You are to inform His Majesty that he
and the royal family must take ship for India

THE CrrY WHO FOUGHT	7

immediately. TheseÑ" he extended the reports from his
folding desk "Ñ are for Viceroy Arnold in Calcutta."

I concede, the computer said.

"Of course," Simeon answered smugly.

He switched his primary visual focus from simula-
tion back to the lounge and looked down at the big
holotable. An excellent model for use in war-gaming,
the map of England was scattered with unit symbols.
Finer and finer detail could be obtained by magnifying
individual sectors Ñ right down to die animate models
of soldiers and horses. Or tanks and artillery, for some
of the other games. He focused: on a horse tiredly nip-
ping at its neighbor on the picket line, on the stubbled
gap-toothed face of a sentry yawning.

"SSS."

"What is that?" Simeon asked.

The answer floated up into his awareness from the
peripherals; tightbeam signal, modulated subspace
waves, picked up by one of the passive buoys out on the
fringes of the system. A subroutine had flagged it as
possibly interesting,

Hmmm, he thought. Odd. It might just be the last
fading noise from a leaking mini-singularity about to
go pop. The things tended to cluster in this area, which
was full of third-generation stars and black holes,
though this one tasted like a signal. The problem with
that was that there was nothing much out that way;
nothing listed as inhabited for better than two hundred
lights. Certainly no traffic into the sphere of Space Sta-
tion Simeon-900-X's operations. He would have to see
if anything more came of it. Presumably if someone
was calling, they would try again.

Idly, he ran a checklist of station functions. Life-
support was nominal, of course; any variation of that
was red-flagged. One hundred seventy-two craft of
various sorts from the liner Altair to barge-tugs were

8	AimeMcCaffrey&SM. Stirling

currendy docked. Twenty-seven megatons of various
mineral powders were in transit, in storage, or under-
going processing in SSS-900-X's attendant
fabrication modules. Two new tugs were under con-
struction in the yard. A civic election was underway,
with Anita de Chong-Markowitz leading for council-
rep in station sector three, the entertainment decks.
Death in the Twenty-First was still billing as most
popular holo of the month. Simeon sneered mentally,
with a wistful overtone. Historical dramas were
impossible for a serious scholar to watch because the
manufacturers would not do their research.

It was not necessary to investigate much more in detail.
With the connectors, shellperson Simeontyos SSS-900-X.
Little awareness remained of the stunted body inside its
titanium shell in the central column of the lounge. He
was the station, and any weakness or failure was, like
pain, intense and personal. As far as his kinesthetic sense
was concerned, he was a metal tube a kilometer long, with
two huge globes attached on either end.

The Abair was in. Simeon had docked die incoming
ship with his usual efficiency but without his usual
close scrutiny. He deliberately turned his attention
away from disembarking passengers, refusing to study
their faces, especially the faces of the women.

Radon's replacement as Simeon's brawn was on this
ship, and all he knew was her work record and her name.
Channa Hap. Probably from Hawking Alpha Proxima
Station, Hap being a common surname for those born in
that ancient and wealdiy community. He wasn't entirely
sure. He'd fought Radon's retirement too hard to have
much personal interest in his replacement All right, I was
sulking, he told himself. Time to get with the program. He'd
established a subroutine to trash the applications of
replacements. That hadn't been personal, merely a ploy.

He hadn't wanted her, but they were stuck widi each
other now.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

Liners docked at the north polar aspect of the tw<
linked globes diat made up the station. The tube was;
kilometer long and half diat wide, more than enougl
for the replenishment feeds and a debarkation loungi
fancy enough to satisfy die station's collective vanity
twenty meters on a side and fifteen high, lined witi
murals, walled and floored with exotic space-minec
stone, with information kiosks and everything else <
visitor needed to feel at home.

"I'm Channa Hap," a woman said to one of th<
kiosks. "I need directions to Control Central."

So that's her. Long high-cheekboned face, medium-
length curling dark hair.

"You are expected, Ms. Hap," the terminal said. Ii
had a mellow, commanding voice syndied from several
of Simeon's favorite actors, some of whom dated back
to the twenty-fourth century. "Do you wish trans-
portation?"

"If diere's no hurry, I'll walk. Might as well get used
to the new home."

"This way, please."

She nodded. Simeon froze the visual and studied
her; tall, athletic. Dressed plainly in a coverall, but she
had presence. Nice figure, too, if you liked subde curves
and rolling muscle. A fox.

In an amazingly short time the door-chime signaled
a request for admittance. Feeling as nervous as he had
when meeting his first brawn, Simeon said, "Come,"
and die door swished open.

Channa entered. He dosed in on the viewer to what
he thought of as normal conversational distance. That
was an advantage sometimes, since softshells couldn't
get to their psychologically comfortable distance widi
you. She had delicate, clear-cut features and earnest
dark eyes, and the curly black hair was swept back from
her face in a disciplined no-nonsense fashion. A

10

ArmeMcCaffrey 6f SJVf, Stirling

vid-show heroine. Perfect! he thought FUget things off on
the right foot. He switched on a screen with his own
"face" Ñ the way he'd imagined it, ruggedly handsome
with a tan, a Heidelberg dueling scar, level gray eyes,
dose-cropped blond hair and a Centaurijets fen cap Ñ
and spoke aloud:

"Hubba-hubba!"

The dark eyes widened slighdy, "Excuse me?"

He laughed, "That's ancient Earth slang for 'sexy
lady.'"

"I see."

The words were so dipped Simeon could almost
hear them ping on the deck as they fell through a short
silence.

Ah, geesh, he thought, this is going realty well. "Urn, I
meant it as a compliment." Why didn't they send me a male
brawn? he asked himself, conveniendy forgetting his
request form. Male bonding he knew about

"Yes, of course," she said coolly. "It's just not a type of
compliment that I'm particularly fond of receiving."

She's got a nice voice, Simeon thought uneasily. Pity she
seems to be a bitch. "What sort of compliments do you
accept?" he asked in a tone of forced jocularity which
wasn't easy to manage through a digital speaker.

"I accept those that deal with my quick learning
ability, and my efficiency, or that acknowledge I'm
doing a good job," she said, moving further into the
room and taking a seat before his column. Until she
had finished speaking, she did not look directly at
him.

"The sort of compliment you'd give a servo-
mechanism, if you gave servo-mechanisnis compliments,''
he said.

"Exactly." She smiled sweedy and folded her hands.

"You've an interesting attitude, Ms. Hap," he said,
laying a little stress on the ancient honorific. If she wants
to get formal, Ftt show her formal. "Most of the women

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT	1 ]

I've worked with didn't object to an occasional compli-
ment on their appearance."

She raised her brows slighdy and cocked her head,
"Perhaps if they objected you simply dismissed it as
being part of an 'attitude.*"

tcoiddcry, iffcouldcry, Simeon thought He'd gotten
lonely these last weeks without Tell Radon. He'd
begun to anticipate the^/un he'd been going to have
with a new brawn. Someone to talk to.... How could
they have matched him with this... ice princess? They
knew he was easy going, sure, but he'd given them a
very good idea of what he was looking for in a brawn.
Exact specifications, which Channa Hap hadn't met,
fully. Was someone in Central taking advantage of his
good nature, somehow hoping he could straighten her
out, or maybe loosen her up?

"I find your attitude rather interesting," she mur-
mured, narrowing her eyes. "Have you checked your
hormone levels recendy?"

"That's a rather personal remark...." Maybe they just
want me to blast her out an airlock when nobody's looking.

" 'Sexy lady' isn't?" She smiled and raised a sardonic
brow.

"That was a compliment, intended to put you at ease.
Have you checked your own hormone levels lately?"

There was silence.

After a moment she sat forward and looked at him
levelly. "Look, even though it hardly seems worth the
trouble of officially submitting my orders to you, on a
practical level we may as well just admit that, for the
time being, we're stuck with each other. You need a
brawn and I'm here. I'm well trained, experienced and
hard working. We don't have to love each other to work
together."

"True, but it gets a little cold trying to maintain your
distance with someone you see every day. It would be a lot
easier if we could be friends. Look, why don't we just

12

Awu McCaffrey fcf SM. Stirling

erase what just happened and start over? Whaddaya

say?"

She pursed her lips, then smiled. "I'm game. But let's
start slow, and we'll avoid the personal remarks for the
time being, okay?" She cocked her head at him and
raised an eyebrow. "You start."

"Hello, you must be Channa Hap. Welcome to the
SSS-900-C."

"Thank you. I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Nah, I always have time for a pret... colleague."
He detected a slight narrowing of her eyes. "My, you
sure are efficient looking."

"Well, and so are you, you're so steely and all."
"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about
you."

She stood up. "This isn't going to work."
"My fault. I shouldn't have said that. Look, you must
be tired from all the travel you've been doing. Why
don't you settle in, look around, relax a little Ñ things
might look different"

"This has nothing to do with my being tired or your
hormones...."

"What is this fixation you have with my hormones?"
"Shut-up-and-listen-to-me." Channa was giving him
a look that he could almost feel. She paused and held
up her hands, sitting down again. 'Just listen," she said
earnesdy. "1 think that it would be best if we put our
cards on the table. I haven't studied your files in full
yet," she admitted with a tired smile. "I just couldn't
make myself do it But I do know quite a bit about you."
She leaned back and crossed her long legs. "I know
that you have a fair amount of influence and a lot of
contacts at Central Admin. And I know that you called
on just about all of them in the matter of your brawn
replacement" She gave him a severe look. "You made
yourself famous on just about every level."

He was a little lost here. He had kicked up quite a fuss

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

13

when they forcibly retired Tell Radon, but what did it
have to do with her?

"In case you're wondering why I'm bringing this
up," she continued.

Geeeze, Simeon thought, that's eerie! She can't possibly
readmymmd. Canshe?

"It may interest you to know that I have my own con-
tacts at Admin. And they've told me that you came up
with a list of qualifications that were extremely hard to
fill. In fact, I was the only candidate who did fit them,
with the glaring exception of the age qualification. I
hear that I'm four years too young for this post."

"Well, you see..."

"Excuse me, I'm not finished. I was also told that you
went over my service records looking for black marks, and
that when you couldn't find them, you went looking for
shadows that you could pretend were blackmarks...."

"Hey! I don't know who you were talking to."

"Bear with me a few moments longer," Channa said,
holding up one finger. "Then you can have your say. I'm
not going anywhere." She looked at his image on the
screen for a moment with narrowed eyes, and when he
remained silent she nodded. "I've been told that all you
need do to ruin the day of almost any Admin executive is
to mention my name. The feeling you appear to have left
behind you as the smoke cleared on this was that where
there's smoke, there's fire. And that if you, well-known
and respected brain that you are, would object so
strenuously to my assignment to the SSS-900, despite the
feet that I fit all but one of your many qualifications, then
there must indeed be something seriously wrong with
me."

"Oh." He honestly hadn't thought about that He'd
been so intent on saving Tell from forced retirement
that no other considerations had seemed important.
Channa Hap as a person had never entered into his
thoughts.

14

Annf McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

Channa continued speaking, "I told myself that it
probably wasn't personal."

God, it's weird the way she can pick uponmy thoughts tike
that!

"I told myself to keep an open mind. If you had only
greeted me as a fellow professional, then I think I could
have let the whole mess be forgotten. But the first
words out of your speakers show that either you can't
discern the difference between a compliment and a lip-
smacking, smarmy, personal remark, or your
campaign to get rid of me continues."

"Now wait a minute!" Simeon said. She opened her
mouth to speak and he overrode her. "It's my turn.
Okay, you said I'd get a turn and I'm taking it." She
raised her brows and gave him an open-handed ges-
ture, giving him the floor. "I don't know who your
informant is, but they've got it all wrong. I'm going to
assume that you know the system well enough to real-
ize that whoever came up for consideration was going
to be gone over with a fine-tooth comb. A space station
the size of a small city requires versatility. I'm going to
assume that you're mature enough to know that
twenty-six is very young for this posting. Tell was thirty-
eight when we came here, and that's the general age I
was looking for. I don't think, given the importance of
the SSS-900, that I'm being unreasonable. But, I sup-
pose that to someone uninformed, the in-depth
investigation could look like a campaign to discredit
you. That was honestly not my intention, nor is it my
intention now. If my greeting was a little too familiar, I
apologize, but I had no way of knowing what dark
suspicions you were harboring, I'm really very open,
Ms. Hap."

She smiled amiably and nodded. "Mmhm. This
entire charming explanation of yours is predicated on
the assumption that my informant is someone's
secretary." She shook her head sadly. "No."

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

15

Gulp, maybe 1did go a little far.... "Urn..."

"You can rest easy," she assured him. "I'm very good
at what I do. As you well know, I have an almost perfect
record...."

Actually, you do have a perfect vecord, Simeon thought
miserably.

"... so, whether we actually get along or not, the sta-
tion won't suffer. And I promise you that I'm not going
to just up and disappear on you once you've gotten
used to me. Because I have it on good authority that,
after what you've done to my career and reputation,
I'd have to bribe and sleep my way into a secondary
assignment on the meanest asteroid-mining outpost at
the farthest reaches of the explored galaxy." She rose
and said, "I'd like to look at my quarters now."

"Yeah.. -just," Simeon slid the door to the brawn's
quarters open, "just settle in. We'll work this out, Ms.
Hap Ñ you'll see. I'm not as bad as you seem to think I
am, I'll check out your allegations and see if I can make
things right. Okay?"

She looked from the open door to Simeon and back
again. She sighed as she walked to the door. "No, I
think it would be better if you just left things alone for a
while."

"Ms. Hap," Simeon called. She turned. "When a
new brawn comes aboard, station protocol recom-
mends a little informal gathering of the department
heads. I've arranged one for this evening at 20:00.
That is, if that's all right with you?"

She nodded and smiled. MI think that's a great idea."
The door to her room slid shut behind her.

CHAPTERTWO

"I can't keep her level! I can't keep her level!"

Amos ben Sierra Nueva leaned forward, gripping
the edge of the console as if he could force strength
down the commlink and the beam to the stricken
transport

"Do not panic, Shintev," he said, firm but calm. "You
are too close to your destination for panic."

Panic seemed to be the order of the day. The bridge
of the Exodus Ñ a minor substation control center for
three hundred years Ñ was in pandemonium as the
refugee technicians struggled to activate and
improvise. There was a hissing puncture right through
the pressure hull where they had slammed a steel tube
for the coaxial feeds to Guiyon's shell. None of the big
cargo-bay doors were operable so they had had to lash
the surface-to-ship transporters to the exterior of the
ancient ship and climb in through service-hatch doors.
The air was thin and cold, dim with the emergency
lighting, full of the smell of fear and sweat and scorched
insulation.

"Excellent sir. I think that the enemy has detected
us," a voice said from one corner.

"YouiAtnA?"

"I am not sure!" the technician wailed, on the brink of
tears. "They are moving... yes! They have detected us!"
Amos' head whipped around. Then the link from
the last shuttle began to transmit only a long high-
pitched scream. He looked back again to see a face
rammed into the pickup, plastered there by centrifugal

THE dry WHO FOUGHT

17

force. Flesh and pooling blood rippled across the
screen before it blanked out.

"They are gone," Amos said into the sudden hush.
"Decouple the remaining shutdes. Prepare for boost"

Another chorus of screams protested that they were
not ready.

"The engines are on-line," Guiyon's calm deep voice
said. "That will suffice for now."

Amos turned and punched an override. "Prepare
for acceleration! Acceleration in ten seconds from
mark. Mark!"

A speck of light blossomed across one of the exterior
fields.

"They got Shintev," somebody whispered. An extra-
orbital fighter, bouncing across the surface of the
troposphere like a skipped stone had gotten dose enough
to launch a seeker missile at the out-of-control shuttle.

"Attend to your duty!" Amos snapped. Later there-will
be time far prayers, and for tears.

Force pushed at the ancient ship. Humming and
snapping sounds vibrated through the hull. Exterior
feeds showed gantries and constructs bending and
breaking under a strain they had never been intended
to endure. The ground-to-orbit shutdes were breaking
away as well, and a few figures in spacesuits.

Damnation, Amos thought, looking away. They mere
warned! So many lives rested on his shoulders.

The great cloud-girdled shape of Bethel began to
shrink in the rear viewscreen. The visible face of the
planet was obscured by dust and flame from the fighting.
Acceleration flattened him into his chair as he read
figures from the flickering screens.

"Guiyon!" he said. "We are moving too slowly!"

"Peace, Amos. I am trying toÑyes, I am venting the
life-support tanks." Tens of thousands of kilotons of
water were jettisoned. "That will help us. And hinder
the enemy."

18

Anne McCaflrey fcf SJVf. Stirling

"What force pursues us?"

"Five ships of small to moderate size. I think they ai^
the enemy sentinels. None other are in position or
rigged for pursuit."

"Will they be able to intercept?"

"I do not know. But I must stress the engines, and
there will be casualties among the passengers."

"Do what must be done."

Tlie weight pressing into his body increased until his
bones creaked from the gravity that the antique com-
pensators could not handle. The actual gravity would
crush.

Behind the Exodus, half the universe vanished in a
blaze of drive energies. The hull did not hum anymore:
it creaked, with occasional rending and crashing noises
as components which had weakened or reset during
the long years as an orbital station came apart under
the stress and crashed sternwards. Somewhere a child
called for its mother, again and again.

"What can we do?" Amos asked.

"Little, until we clear the gravity well," Guiyon
answered. "Pray, perhaps, since that was your
custom?"

One by one, the refugees lifted voices in chant.

Patsy Sue Coburn glanced over at a silk-clad Channa
Hap. Channa was sipping champagne and listening
politely to a medical officer who had backed her into a
corner to tell a story that seemed to involve a lot of cut-
ting motions. The room was full of station bigwigs,
section representatives, department heads, company
reps, merchanter captains, the odd artist or enter-
tainer. Trays floated about at shoulder height, loaded
with beverages, canapes, and stimulants. Everyone
seemed filled with a new enthusiasm for conversations
they'd had a hundred times before, as if the new brawn
had reinvigorated old topics. Patsy Sue felt the warmth

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

19

of Florian Gusky's presence even before his deep voice
rumbled softly in her ear.
"So... what do you think of the new girl?"
patsy looked at him out of the corner of her bottle-
green eyes and flicked back her long blond hair. His

jaw was

thrust forward and his thick neck was hunched

into heavy shoulders, accentuating the rugged cast of
his features. A big man and nearly as tough as he
thought he was. Gusky was an enthusiast for Revival
Games, particularly rugby; he looked ready to tackle

Channa.

Or stomp on her with cleats, she thought. " I think the
new woman's elegant," Patsy replied. And makes me wish
Fd been a tittle more restrained, she added to herself. Her
own Junoesque figure was squeezed into a tight red
sheath with a deep cleavage and a slit skirt. Her ash-
blond hair Ñ her own natural coloring with the barest
tint of help from modern technology Ñ was woven
with ropes of black pearls.

"I think she's a snob," Gusky said decisively.

"She seems a bit reserved," Patsy allowed. Who
wouldn't be, dropped into this mill-and-swill?

"She seems shallow."

"What is yer problem? Y' lookin* at the woman like
you think she's got the legs of a cockroach under that
gown. I've neva known you to make snap judgments.
Do you know somethin1 that needs tellin'?"

He looked into his drink, frowning. "No ... it's just
... Simeon's awfully quiet" He looked up at her with
concern in his brown eyes. "That's just not like him."

She grinned and flicked her blond bangs aside.
"Well, this will be quite an adjustment fer him after all,"
she said. "He an* Tell Radon were together for decades.
Maybe he's missin' him and doesn't feel like bein' at a
party."

Gus nodded, pursing his lips. "Yeah, or maybe he
wants to give her a chance to shine...."

20

Arme McCaffrty & SM. Stirling

They both looked down for a moment and shuffled
their feet. They looked up at the same moment and
said, "Simeon?" simultaneously, and then burst out
laughing.

"You called?" The familiar image bloomed on a
screen beside diem.

"Ah! Oh, hi, Sim, we, uh... we..."

"We were just saying you're kinda quiet tonight,"
Gus finished.

"Well, with most of my senior staff here at the party,
I'm sort of pulling double-duty," Simeon said listlessly.
"Excuse me," and he was gone.

Patsy and Gus looked at each other in amazement,
then turned to take a new look at Channa Hap, now
being introduced to a cargo specialist.

Gus shook his head. "What did she do to him?"

Patsy smiled. "Trimmed his sails good and proper."

"This was not a match made in Paradise," Gus mut-
tered.

"Oh, I dunno," Patsy said, narrowing her green eyes
thoughtfully. "The woman has style, Gus. This place
could use some style. Look at this party. When was the
last time you came to Simeon's place and got somethin'
besides beer and pretzels?"

Gus looked at her in amazement "What's that sup-
posed to mean? Are you telling me you can be bought
widi the right canapes?"

"No. Chocolate truffles maybe, but not synthesized
fish eggs on carbo wafers." At his growl she continued
more seriously. "What I'm sayin' is, this place is more
like a boys' camp dian the hub of culture and science
and business that it could be. She'll shake us up all
right, but maybe that's a good thing. It's goin' to get a
lot more interestin' around here."

He went back to glowering. Patsy went over to
Channa to compliment her choice of the Rovolodorus'
Second Celestial Suite as background music.

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

21

"Glad you like it, Ms. Coburn," Channa said. Her
smile had the slightly artificial quality of someone who
has spent the last few hours fending off would-be favor
seekers. "You're from Larabie, diough, aren't you?"

"I left," Patsy replied. "Didn'tlikethedown-home music
tfiere, and I get so sick of the Miner's Rant and the other
Pioneer Stomp stuff Simeon plays. No offense, Simeon."

"None taken" a voice said out of the air, the "n" fading
into silence.

Channa's next smile was more genuine. "I'd have
thought the chief environmentalist would be in favor
of stability," she said.

"I get so sick of watchin' algae breed," Patsy said, and
they both laughed. "Maybe diat's why I had four hus-
bands in a row Ñjust to show I wasn't a unicellular
organism."

"Goodnight," Channa called as the door swished
shut behind the last departing guest. The big circular
room looked even larger with the crowd gone; the
holos on the walls had reset to restful underwater
scenes with tropical fish.

She turned toward Simeon's screen image on the pil-
lar Ñ a brain's body was there, after all, and it had
become a matter of courtesy in brawns to address diat
position even if the brain could hear them anywhere
on the station. She stood a moment leisurely studying
the large Sinosian tapestry that was tastefully draped
across his column.

"That's a lovely hanging," she said at last "I've been
admiring it all evening." She clasped her hands behind
her back and walked slowly towards him. "Thank you,"
she said softly. "This party was very pleasant, Simeon,
and a thoughtful gesture."

Once you, loosened up a tittle, Simeon thought in some
surprise, you were fun, too. If I can just keep you half-tanked,
we might be able to get along.

22

AmeMcCaffrey fcf SM. Stirling

"Well, everyone is more relaxed at this sort of gather-
ing," he said, "divorced from their official positions.
You get to see the social side before you have to con-
tend with the professional."

She nodded. "I had just enough time before they got
here to glance at everyone's records. I didn't want to
make the same mistake with them that I made with you."

"You didn't read my records?"

"No," she said archly, "I wanted to be surprised."

"So did I," he admitted.

She laughed. "Then I guess we do have something
in common after all. We can both screw up. Goodnight,
Simeon."

Smiling, she gave one last wave at the column as she
went into her room.

She has a nice laugh, Simeon thought, as the door
swished closed behind her.

Phew, Channa thought.

She thought again, and took several recondite pieces
of equipment out of her bag.

When these showed that the sensors in the walls
weren't activated, she was slightly ashamed of herself
for being so uncharitable about Simeon.

"There is no chance of repairing it?" Amos ben
Sierra Nueva said.

"Crapulous none," the technician rasped.
"Esteemed sir," he added, wiping at the lubricating
fluid on his cheek.

They both backed out of the corridor and dogged the
hatchway. A subliminal hum surrounded them; Amos
was alone among the refugees in knowing that was a bad
sign. Misaligned drive, no surprise after the colony ship
had spent three centuries doubling as an orbital station.
It was a miracle that the engines functioned at all, and a
tribute to the engineers of the Central Worlds. A double

THE Cm- WHO FOUGHT

23

miracle that they were holding up under the unnatural
stress of maintaining subspace speeds past redline for so
long. Guiyon's doing.

"We will just have to economize on oxygen," Amos
said firmly.

"Stop breathing?" the technician asked.

"Coldsleep," Amos replied. "That will cut down our
consumption by at least half. A small crew can manage
the ship. It was designed so. Guiyon could run it alone,
if need be."

Sweat from more than the exertion of crawling
along disused passageways glistened on the man's
brown skin. Amos forced himself to breath normally as
he walked back to the command deck. His chest felt
heavy but it was impossible to detect any COg buildup
yet Purely psychological, he told himself sternly.

"There is no chance of repairing the machinery," he
said to the assembled command group. A few of them
grunted as if struck. "At the current rate, we will
exhaust the available air supplies two-thirds of the way
to our destination."

"Why was the ship not properly maintained?" some-
one half shouted.

"Because this was an orbital station with unlimited
supplies and an algae tank!" Amos snapped, then
brought himself back under control. Of necessity, they
had had to dump the excess water in the tanks. Too
much mass to haul when speed is essential. "We lost
more supplies, too, when the enemy hulled us."

"This is our situation," he said, deliberately calm.
"We have to deal with it. A hundred lives and the fete of
Bethel depend upon it"

They aU nodded. There was no way the Kolnari fleet
could have been kept secret, even in backwaters like
the Saffron system, if there were any witnesses after
they left a world. Given time on Bethel, they would
hide their tracks the same way.

24

Anne McCaffrey & SJVf. Stirling

"What... what about coldsleep?" Rachel said, lick-
ing her Hps.

"A possibility presently to be considered," Amos said.
"Giriyon?"

The brain's voice sounded inhumanly detached as
always. There were four centuries of experience
behind him, and abilities no softperson could ever
match. Amos shuddered slightly. Abomination was the
most charitable term the Faith used for such as he. Con-
trol yourself, Amos chided. Guiyon rescued us all. He is our
onfy hope. The stress was bringing back archaic fears.

"Marginal," Guiyon said. "Possible. We should con-
centrate all the personnel in one or two compartments,
pump the atmosphere from the others back into
reserve, and begin coldsleep treatments immediately."
He paused. "We are not properly equippedÑinternal
temperature control is very uncertain. There is a risk
of substantial casualties."

"Do it," Amos said, with the ring of authority in his
voice. He could sense the others relaxing. The menace
was still there, but someone was taking steps. Now, if
onfy I had an authority figure, he thought wryly. I suppose
the responsibility has to stop somewhere. "And may God have
mercy upon us."

"Amen."

Amos waited until the others had filed out to begin
reorganizing the hundred-odd refugees.

"The enemy?" he asked softly.

"Four ships," Guiyon replied. "One turned back, I
think, with engine problems Ñ there were discon-
tinuities in its emissions. The remainder are gaining
slowly. I am running the engines over the specifications
as it is, but they were never designed for this sort of
usage. My estimate is that we have escaped so far
because the Kolnari ships are carrying extra fuel mass
and suhtight maneuver engines. They are also not red-
lining their propulsion systems."

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

25

"Will we have enough lead-time to reach Rigel
Base?"

"That is impossible to calculate," Guiyon said. His
voice was slowly taking on an extra tinge of animation,
like a piece of rusty machinery that turned more
smoothly when warmed up after long disuse. "Too
much depends on intervening factors Ñ mass density
in the interstellar medium, the enemy's actions, and
what awaits us. We still have several possible destina-
tions, but there may have been changes since the last
update. My data is very old."

"As God wills," Amos said reflexively.

"Indeed."

The data-input jumped and fizzled through the
jury-rigged inputs. Pain jagged along Guiyon's nerves
in sympathy with the overstressed fabric of the ship.
Anxiety ate at him as sector after sector went blank, a
spreading numbness like leprosy.

Behind him, the rosette of pursuing Kolnari ships
was mostly hidden by the blaze of his own drive ener-
gies. The sleeting energetic particles of their
beam-weapons were not probing and eroding at the
drive coils of the ancient, crumbling vessel. Ghost
memories of the ship when it was young and strong
haunted him, confusing his responses. His own
nutrient and oxygen feeds kept slipping past redline,
and each time the emergency adjustments took longer
to swing the indicators back.

We will not make Rigel Base, Guiyon knew. He would
not, and the ship would not. And if they could, the
softshells on board most certainly would not. / must
select an alternate destination.

If there is one.

CHAPTER THREE

"Is it really necessary to inspect in person, Ms. Hap?"
the detection systems chief said. "We have a virtual sys-
tem for remotes," he went on helpfully.

"No substitute for hands on," Channa said with
determined cheerfulness.

She reached up to the hatchway and chinned her-
self, sliding into the narrow inspection corridor. "Hand
me up the toolkit, will you?"

Two hours later the chief stood rigidly as Channa
finished her checklist. His skin was a muddy gray
under the natural brown, and he seemed to be shaking
slightly.

"... and deviations are more than thirty percent
beyond approved," she said crisply.

"Ms. Hap" Ñ the luckless bureaucrat said, trying to
cut in once more Ñ "those long-range systems are
purely backup. They haven't been used since the SSS
was commissioned!" At her raised eyebrow, he con-
tinued hurriedly, "Besides, I'm understaffed, and Ñ"

"Chief Doak," she went on. "Regular personal
inspections are standard procedure in all installations
of this type. I don't care if the equipment is used infre-
quendy. Backups exist for an emergency when they had
better be able to perform the functions for which they
were designed. And I don't can? if you send in the
remotes every so often. Machinery does what you tell it
to do, whether that's the right thing or not.
Experienced technicians are supposed to have a feel

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

27

for their equipment Your people obviously don't This
isn't satisfactory. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ms. Hap," he said woodenly.

Bitch, she read in his eye. That's /me. You have your
right to an opinion of me, and I have a right to expect you to do
your work, she thought, turning and striding briskly for
the door.

"I don't care what anyone says, Ms. Hap. I think
you're going to do a great job."

It was one of the communications technicians.
Channa smiled pleasantly at her and said softly, noting
her name tag. "Frankly, Ms. ... Foss, I don't give a
damn wAoi you think. I'm only concerned with the
quality of your work. Which, at the moment, you're not
doing." She continued down the corridor.

"Excuse me." Simeon said to Channa when she was
out of earshot

"Yes?"

"Did you have to be so nasty to her?"

"Simeon, it would be unprofessional of me to allow
people to choose up sides like that We can chew out a
section chief, but interfering in the chain of command
is petty and divisive and causes morale problems. Per-
haps I'm not going to be here very long, and I'm
unwilling to leave that sort of mess for someone else to
sort out \bu've got to nip these things in the bud."

"Nipping is one thing. You cut her off at the knees."

"Oh, I see. You think I was unkind."

"You were\ In feet, you were downright cruel."

Channa stood a moment, hands on hips, looking
down thoughtfully. Then she shifted her weight and
crossed her arms. "Simeon, I noticed that Tell Radon was
here twelve years longer than standard retirement date."

"He wasn't ready to go," Simeon replied suspiciously.

"But six years ago he submitted his resignation,"

"He changed his mind and withdrew it. I wasn't
about to force him out He's a friend."

28	Amu McCaffrey &? SM. Stating

"Un-hunh. Well, when I glanced over some of the
meeting records for the last few years, I couldn't help
but notice that everyone behaved as though he wasn't
there. On the infrequent occasions when he did make a
contribution, it was immediately questioned. Or don't
the words 'Is that right, Simeon' sound familiar?"

"So what are you getting at?"

"I'm getting at the basic difference in our styles,
Simeon. When I'm cruel, it's to prevent more pain fur-
ther down the line. When you're cruel, it's to get your
own way."

"What!"

"Surely you know that consideration for a friend can
go both ways? Maybe Tell Radon stayed because he
knew you would prefer it that way. You've had things
your own way around here for quite a long while now.
I don't imagine you were looking forward to breaking
in someone new. Some stranger who might want to do
things their way instead of using the nice, smooth
routines you've worked out over time."

"Where are you getting this bullshit?"

She shrugged. "It's thatoryoujustgotso used to seeing
him humiliated on a daily basis that you didn't notice it
anymore. Either way, it probably felt the same to him."

"I know him, Hap; you don't. If Tell had a problem,
he would have said something. Why would he suffer in
silence when he knew he could come to me?"

"Have you looked at the recordings?"

"I don't have to look at anything. I was there."

"They'll confirm what I've said, you know."

You coryciuin-plated bitch! "Has it occurred to you that
you're biased? You've been finding fault with me since
we said hello. Let me tell you something, omniscient
one, you can't get a good impression of Tell from the
recs. He hated the damn meetings, 'Hell,' he used to
say, 'these frigging meetings make my brain melt.' He
rarely spoke at meetings. They just weren't his style."

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

29

"Was it customary to question his every comment
when he did speak?"

"You're making a simple request for confirmation
sound like attempted murder."

Channa bit her lower lip. "Simeon, the recs will con-
firm that what I saw is there, very plain to see,
unmistakable, dear, obvious. You might find a review
of the meeting recs illuminating. Okay?"

After a moment's reflection, something in Simeon
opened like an eye and he saw a bitter twist to Tell
Radon's mouth. Tell had always described it as "gas,"
but...

"You fight dirty, Channa," he said.

She blushed, but her expression remained hostile.
"I'm angry," she said honestly. "My career is in ribbons
because you wanted him to stay on. So when I saw..."
She bit her lip again. Then she went on more calmly.
"You have to be careful how you use expressions like,
'you cut her off at the knees' and 'you were cruel,'
around me. It tends to set me off. Also, you could have
taken me at my word instead of turning self-
righteous."

"Yeah... I'll remember that" He paused. "Ylcnow, if
you're really so hot to get out ofhere, I'll back your trans-
fer request to the hilt. Since I didn't get what I asked for
last time, I figure I'm still owed a few favors...."

"Ho no. The last time you backed someone to the
hilt, the hilt ended up protruding from between my
shoulder blades. Thank you so much. Now that I think
about it, I intend to give Central Admin plenty of time
to forget this mess and my starring role in it. You're
stuck with me for a couple of years, at least, so you'd
better get used to it. Oh, on the subject of overlooking
things...*'

"Yeah?" What now? Is there duston the tight fixtures?
"I came face to face with a little boy in one of the aft
engineering compartments."

30

ArmeMcCaffinsy&SM. Stating

Silence.

"What? No comment? Does this mean that you
know about him? After all, you are able to view all areas
of the station."

In the silence that followed, she walked over to the
wall and leaned casually against it. "He was gone
before I could react. But you know what's really
strange? There is nothing on file about such a kid." The
silence lengthened. "Simeon?" she asked with some
asperity.

"A little boy?"

"Yes, Simeon, about twelve years old Ñ Standard Ñ
give or take a couple of years. In the aft power com-
partment. A restricted area, I believe. A kid who looks
and smells like a Sendee mud-puppy. Whose child is
he? What can you tell me about him? Don't even try to
tell me you know nothing. Kids don't acquire a patina
of dirt like that overnight He also looked like he'd been
eating regularly, if not well. So someone's been looking
out for him... minimally."

/ don't think saying "You're cute when you're angry" would
be a very good idea right now, Simeon thought. He froze
her image and scanned it for temperature variations
and pupil dilation. She was angry on behalf of an aban-
doned child rather than at him. Which makes a nice
change.

Besides, he could use an ally with this problem.

"He calls himself Joat," Simeon confessed with a
sigh. "I don't know how long he's been here. I dis-
covered him by accident myself. He's mechanically
brilliant. The area he's staked out as his own just
stopped needing repairs. That's probably the only
reason I investigated. I mean, there are enough
squeaky wheels around here. Why take notice of one
that's quiet? Then I noticed that the last repair made in
that section was two years ago. I got curious about
nothing ever going wrong. So I went on a prowl, using

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT	31

mobile bugs, and kept, well, softpersons refer to it as
seeing things out of the corner of their eyes. I always
thought that had something to do with blinking, you
know, eyelashes getting in your line of sight or some-
thing. But I kept seeing these flickers of movement and
I don't blink. By turning up my sound reception I could
sometimes hear little scrapes and movement, but there
was a sort of'white noise' masking it It seemed unlikely
that everything else in the area was running perfectly
with the exception of my sensors, so I decided to do a
stakeout. Eventually, he got careless and wandered
into my line of sight. The first time I spoke to him, blip,
he disappeared. It was a long time before I could get
him to talk to me. You'll note I said talk, not trust. He's
incredibly wary. I can't believe he was clumsy enough
to let you see him."

"Tvioyears?"

Leave it to you, you bitchoid, to pick out the pertinent mfor-
mation. "I said the last logged repair was two years ago.
It's been known to happen. What can I say? Some-
where from two years to two months, who knows?"

"Who is he, Simeon?"

"His story is that he ran away from a tramp freighter.
Joat told me that the captain won him from his uncle in
a card game. I know, I know, that sort of thing's illegal,
but it does happen out here in the boonies. The tramp
left abruptly and went somewhere not listed. Joat has
never had it soft, but apparendy, the captain he ran
from was of a different order ofbrutality altogether."

Channa wrinkled her nose. "Sounds like something
out of Dickens."

"Yeah, well, the more things change..." and he left
the sentence dangling. "What are you going to do?" he
asked warily. After his first, disastrously wrong,
impression, Channa hadn't struck him as a bleeding
heart Would she suggest flooding the compartment to
flush the poor kid out?

32

AnneMcCaffrey fef SM. Stirling

"We've got to get him out of there. We can't leave a
little boy in a dangerous and restricted area. It's illegal
at best and irresponsible by any standard."

"He's been badly hurt and frightened, Channa. He
doesn't want to be with people. The little guy can
barely tolerate me. He likes machinery better than
people, and I qualify as a borderline case. Besides, even
/ can't find him if he really doesn't want to be found.
Maybe we should leave him alone for the time being.
He's where he wants to be."

Channa looked up with her jaw set. "Simeon, no
child wants to be alone in the dark and the cold of a
power room, or wherever he's lodged himself. He
needs and deserves to be taken care of. It's his right."

"I agree in principle, but I think he needs more time.
I'll take the responsibility."

"What does that mean?"

"I'll take full and complete responsibility for what
happens to him."

Channa brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Okay," she said, "I'll call up some information on
adoption procedures and we can get things underway."

"What?" I'm always screaming what? at this woman. Pm
beginning to feel like a demented parrot.

"Well, what else did you mean when you said you
would accept responsibility?"

"That, if anything goes wrong, I'll answer for it." /
swear, if I had hair I'd tear it out. Softshells have some
advantages after all. But, what is this ... this .. . wench
trying to do to me?

"Great! If he gets killed or maimed, you'll accept a
discommodation? Well, how big of you!" Channa cut
Simeon off when he began to splutter a protest "By
now you should know that I listen to what you say,
even when you don't. I promise you, Simeon. I will
always call you on it when you try to shut me up or

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

33

fob me off. You're not going to shuffle this one off,
buddy. I won't let you."

"What are you talking about? I didn't put him in this
situation. I want to help the kid. Hell, I am helping. I just
don't see any need to rush him. The feet that you saw him
may mean that he's almost ready to come out on his own.
I'm certainly opposed to coercing him. Geeeze but
you're hostile! You're so willing to believe the worst about
me that every time I talk to you I feel like my circuits are
being realigned. Am I really such an evil bastard? Or,"
and he changed his tone from plaintive to trenchant,
"could it be that you really are the most bloody-minded,
impossible woman I have ever met?"

"Oh, Simeon," she drawled, "you have no idea how
difficult I can be. Just cross me if you want to find out"

A chill settled in Simeon's mind. Does that mean that so
far she's been reasonable? Gahf

"You're about to become a father, Simeon. That's
what full and complete responsibility for a child means.
Congratulations, it's a boy. If your word is good."

"They're not going to let me adopt a kid."

"Why not? You've been extensively tested for
emotional stability, you have a responsible job. You
even appear to care very much about his feelings.
Do you think such a wounded child, of his age, is
going to have prospective parents lining up to take
care of him? I think you've got a very good chance."

She clapped her hands and rubbed them together
gleefully. "So... let's get to work on it."

Mart'an presented the menu with a flourish and left
them with a bow.

Channa looked around wide-eyed at the dimly lit,
subdued elegance of the Perimeter Restaurant There
were even actual beeswax candles burning on the
tables; a fortune for material and air-bills both.

No pleasure Ifaspetidmgxmwbodyebe's money, she thought

34

Atme McCaffrey & S.M. Staling

The Perimeter was paying; something of a goodwill
gesture. And it was logical for her to get acquainted with
one of the station's premier tourist attractions.

SSS-900's finest restaurant was just down from
the north-polar docking extension; the outer wall
was a hundred-meter sheet of synthmet set on clear.
Stars rolled huge and bright beyond Ñ fixed stars
and the frosty arch of the Snakeshead Nebula, and
the bright moving points of light that were shuttles
and tugs. Within, the floor was of glossy black stone
set with squares of gold Ñ SSS-900 processed a lot
of gold as a by-product Ñ and the tables were made
of real and precious wood, glossy under the snowy
linen tablecloths. Waiters moved amid a quiet chink-
ing of silverware, savory smells wafting from the
platters they carried. A live orchestra played some-
thing soft and ancient.

"Stars and comets Ñ a little rich for this outposter!"
Channa said. "I'd heard of the Perimeter, but somehow
I never expected to actually come here."

Patsy grinned. "C'mon now, Hawking Station wasn't
an asteroid minin' center. Leastwise, not of the sort oui
sainted Simeon cut his teeth on."

"Well, no... but I couldn't afford anything like this
when I was at home. Didn't have the time, either. After
I graduated and started pulling assignments, I've been
mostly at outposts. Worse than Simeon's."

Waiters filled water glasses, laid their napkins in
their laps, brought warm rolls and softened butter.
Everything except brush our teeth and massage our feet,
Channa thought. It was a little unnerving. Most places
you asked for the selection, told the table what you
wanted, and a float brought the meal to you. The sheer
expense of having live human beings do all this!

"I'd never've et in here if it weren't on the station's
ticket," Patsy confessed in a whisper during a lull in the
service. "Or unless a date was really tryin* to impress

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

35

me. More relaxin* with another female Ñ you kin
concentrate on the food without insultin' 'em.**

"If this weren't complimentary, I wouldn't be here
now, either."

They grinned at each other.

"Well, thank you fer invitin' me," Patsy said. "I
woulda thought you might invite that med-tech you
were talkin' to last night."

"Please, I'm looking forward to this meal. I won't be
able to eat if I remember him. Have you heard some of
his anecdotes?"

"All of "em," Patsy said, nodding solemnly. "You've a
point thar, ma'am. Chaundra's a nice enough feller,
but his stomach's a mite too strong fer me."

"Besides, you and I have similar taste in music. You
can always talk to someone who likes the same music."

Talk they did, touching on everything from
Geranian folk ballads to eighteenth-century Earth
composers, eventually matching the personnel of the
station to various types of music.

"Simeon? Straight honky-tonk, no question,"
Channa said firmly.

Patsy laughed. "Oh, c'mon, Channa, there's
unplumbed depths there. He's not that simple. It's just
that the minin* center assignment came at an impres-
sionable age fer him. Rough, tough rockjack, you
know. His public image."

"Well." She looked down at the menu. It provided
motion holos of the dishes as she ran her finger down
the page. "I'll start with these grumawns, first, in the
fiery sauce. Cleardrop soup. Grilled rack of jumbuk
from Mother Hutton's World Ñ good grief, they do
have everything here! Ñ baby carrots, salad. Spun
pastry bluet confection for dessert, with Port Royal cof-
fee. Castiliari brandy."

"Sounds good. I'll go with the jumbuk too, but...
hmm. Fennel-leek soup first. Wine?"

36

Atme McCaffrey fcf 5JVf. Stating

"I don't usually Ñ" Channa began.

"If I might suggest?" Mart'an appeared at their
table. Appeared, Channa thought, as if he'd blinked out
of some hypothetical subspace. "The Mon'rach '97 to
begin with, a half-bottle. Then, with the main course, a
Hosborg estate-bottled '85. I'll open it now so it can
breathe."

"Sure," Channa said, then sighed with pleasure.
"You know, I was looking forward to the Perimeter,
ever since they told me SSS-900 would be Ñ"

"SSS-900-C, now, Ms. Hap."

Channa blushed."Ñ would be my next assignment"

The first course arrived. The pink grumawns were
coiled steaming on top of a bed of fragrant saffron rice,
the sauce to one side. Channa took a sip of the wine,
chilled and with a feint scent of violets, then lifted one
grumawn on the end of a two-tined fork.

"I did do a lot of work today," she murmured to her-
self. She opened her mouth, and Ñ

The Confederate armor was grinding through the
woods and fields north of Indianapolis. The burning
city cast a pall of smoke into the sky behind them. Diesel
engines pig-grunted as the smooth low-slung shapes of
the tanks and tank-destroyers crashed through brush
and twelve-foot high cornstalks, past the flaming
shards of a farmhouse and barns. The long 90mm bar-
rels of the tank guns swung toward the thin strung-out
lines of the Union convoys, caught in the flank as they
attempted to switch front The fighting vehicles surged
back on their tracks at each monster crack of high-
velocity cannon fire, and the air filled with the bitter
scent of cordite. Chaos spread through the blue ranks
as tracer and cannon fire sent trucks exploding into
globes of magenta fire. A Northern tank dissolved, the
turret flipping up like a frying-pan, a hundred meters
into the air.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

37

Behind the fighting vehicles, long lines of men in
gray uniforms followed, advancing with their semi-
automatic rifles carried at the port Here and there an
officer carried a sword, or the Stars and Bars fluttered
from a staff.

"Now!" General Fitzroy Anson-Hugh Beauregard III
said into the bulky mike hung from his vehicle helmet

His command tank was a little back from the edge of
the combat, hull down; the general stood head-and-
shoulders out of the commander's cupola. The turret
pivoted under him, the massive casting moving
smoothly on its bearing race. The long cannon fired in
a flash that seared his vision, just as the opening salvos
of artillery went by overhead. Down along the road, tall
poplar-shapes of black dirt gouted skyward. Another
explosion shook the earth and sent heavy vehicles
pinwheeling like a child's models under a careless boot;
the command-tank's round had hit the tracked carrier
for a Unionist self-propelled gun.

The general nodded. "Nothing to stop us short of the
Lakes," he said. Nothing to stop them linking up with the
British Guards Armored Corps, driving southeast out of
occupied Detroit, cutting the Union in two....

"Conceded," Florian Gusky said, and lifted the
visor of the simulation helmet. He sighed heavily and
took a pull of his beer, then looked around the room
as though surprised to find himself alone with
Simeon, blinking away the consciousness of a world
and war that had never been. There was a slight
sheen of sweat on his heavy-browed face and he
worked the thick muscles of his shoulders to loosen
the tension.

"You could play it out to the end," Simeon's image
said from a screen above his desk.

"No dam' point. You've whipped my butt in that
simulation fo^,fromboth Union and Confederate sides."

38

Arme McCaffnq & S JVf. SHr&ng

"I could take a handicap," Simeon said with much
less enthusiasm, Gus noted.

So he nodded. The last time he had beaten Simeon
was in a Caesar vs. Rommel match on the site of Car-
thage, with the shellperson commanding Caesar's
spear-armed host against Panzers and Stukas. Even
then he had inflicted embarrassing casualties.

"Where is she?" Gus asked. There was no need to
identify the female in question.

"She's dining at the Perimeter."

Gus raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "The
Perimeter? That's some salary she gets." The
Perimeter attracted two sets of guests: the rich, and
spacers looking to blow six months' pay on one night.

Simeon laughed. "Nab, she's a guest of the manage-
ment. Patsy's with her."

"Yeah, Patsy likes her," Gus said, his tone indicating
that this revealed a serious and heretofore unsuspected
flaw in Patsy's character. "Can you see them?"

"Yup."

"What're they doing?"

"Talking."

"About us?"

"I don't know. I'm not listening. Now they're
laughing."

"They're talking about us, alright," Gus said gloomily.

"Geesh, Gus, let's get back to the game."

There was a plaintive edge to Simeon's voice. Gus
reached for the helmet and then stopped, a slow grin
creasing his heavy features.

" Isn't it about time we had a drill?" he said, thoughtfully.

"We just had one. About four hours ago, remember?"

"When I was in the Navy we had 'em six times a day,
sometimes," Gus replied.

He knew that Simeon badly wanted to pull Navy
duty. Only a few staff-and-command vessels used
shell controllers and Simeon didn't rate, yet. In the

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

39

meantime, he put a lot of weight on Gus' experience
as a fire-control officer on a patrol frigate. That had
been some time ago Ñ Florian Gusky had spent a
decade's hard work clawing his way up to regional
security chief for Namakuri-Singh, the big drive-
systems firm Ñ but Simeon had a bad case of military
romanticism. And real talent, he told himself without
envy of the brain's abilities.

"I know it's early," Gus went on persuasively, "but it's
important not to have predictable intervals. So we
don't get complacent."

"Well..."

"I'd love to see the look on their faces."

"Since you put it that way Ñ"

Channa started as the klaxons rang. They sounded
like no other she had ever heard, a harsh repeated
ouvuuga-ouuuuga sound. The elegant minuet of move-
ment among the waiters turned to an inelegant but
efficient scramble for the exits; some moved to assist
guests. Thick slabs hissed up out of the floor along the
outer wall and the lights flared bright

"BREACH IN THE PRESSURE HULL!" a harsh
male voice tone announced. "EMERGENCY PER-
SONNEL TO THEIR STATIONS. SECURE ALL
SUBSECTION REFUGE AREAS."

Patsy stood and looked at her barely touched entree
with dismay. "Damn! That's the second time this shift!"
She threw her napkin down with disgust. "Simeon
pulls these drills like a boy kickin* over an anthill to see
the bugs scurry."

"Simeon!" Channa shouted.

"Yeah?" The klaxons dimmed in a globe around them.

"Is this a genuine emergency or just a test?"

"Excuse me, brawn-o'-mine, but you're not sup-
posed to be privy to that information." There was the
hint of a smug smile in the brain's voice.

40	Arm* McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

"If you think I'm getting up from the best meal that's
ever been put in front of me just because you're feeling
your oats, you've got another thing coming. Cut it!"

As the klaxon abrupdy ceased, people stopped, puz-
zled, and milled around uncertainly.

"Tell them it's over, Simeon. Don't just leave them
standing there."

"This has been a test," Simeon informed them in the
feminine tones he used for such announcements,
"Return to your stations. This has been a test"

"We will discuss this later," Channa assured him icily.
"Overdoing drills is dangerous, irresponsible and
generally counterproductive."

Ah, hell, Simeon thought exhaustedly, why did I listen
to you, Gustldan't ihmkyou like the looks on their faces after
all, buddy. I know I don't. He wondered what he could do
to make it impossible for her to gain access to him for
the next week.

Patsy sat down slowly, her wide eyes fixed on
Channa's flushed countenance. "You really don't lahk
him, do ya?" she said with some astonishment

Channa looked at her blandly. "Whatever makes you
say that?"

Patsy shook her head. *Just a hunch."

Channa sighed and smiled ruefully. "Well, to be fair,
there may be a touch of'transference' there. You see,
I've always wanted to work planet-side. I love the feel of
wind in my hair and rain on my face. I enjoy splashing
in an ocean, and the feel of earth under my feet So, for
the past two years I've been campaigning for a
particular assignment" She looked up at Patsy inquir-
ingly. "Have you ever been to Senalgal?"

Patsy nodded and smiled warmly in reminiscence. "I
sher have. 1 had my first honeymoon thar. What a gor-
geous place! Beautiful beaches, warm ocean, flowers
eve'rwhar, and the/ood. I'd love to live thar, at least fer a
while." She sighed. "So, go on."

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

41

"Well, as you can imagine, the competition was
incredible. I'd been through twelve interviews, including
one with Ita Secand, the city-manager of Kelta, whom I
would have been working with. God! What I wouldn't
give to work with her. She's witty, charming, sophisti-
cated. I felt that I could learn so much from her. It had
come down to two of us, myself and someone else."

She shook her head. "I never did know who the other
candidate was, but my feeling was that it was going to be an
extremely difficult choice. When suddenly, after holding
on for twelve years, Tell Radon decides that he has to retire
right now! And thatsweet little plum, that was almost inmy
hand, was snatched away so fast it left scorch marks on my
nail polish, '"Vbu're station born and bred,' they told me,
'You're perfect for this assignment,' they said. 'It's an
extremely important and prestigious post,' they assured
me. Rurrrgh! Asthesayinggoes, Icouldjustspit"

Patsy looked at Channa's bitter face.

"It's a gyp, alright. Looks like yer skills ah goin'
against you instead of helpin* you out. So, maybe you
ah takin' it out on Simeon jest a teensy bit?" She
grinned and held up a hand that measured out a
micrometer between thumb and forefinger. "Hey,
maybe that's good fer him. Now, I think," she placed a
hand on her bosom, "that we need you mo'n Senalgal
does. I mean, Senalgal's gonna be special whoever
runs it, right? But a station, well, it can be just a big oT
factory with the wrong people in charge. You don't
need Ita Secand t' teach you to be witty and sophis-
ticated Ñ you already ah. We need some a' that right
here, Ms. Hap, an I'm not kiddin'."

Channa blushed and grinned, taking a sip of her
wine to hide her embarrassment

"Well, thank you. That's quite a challenge you've set
me," she murmured, and changed the subject. "Who
was that big, handsome, gray-haired fellow you were
talking to last night? Somehow I never met him,"

42	Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating
"FlorianGusky?"

"We call him Gus."

"I can see why."

Patsy smiled warmly. "He's quite a guy Ñ a retired
Navy man, a crack navigator. Tlie stories he's got... I
mean to tell you, mmhm."

"I see he's spoken for," Channa said with a grin.

"Not so you'd notice," Pasty said primly. "I admit I
lahk him, though. I jus* love to heah him talk. When I
was a kid, I thought I'd do what he did. You know, join
the Navy and scour the universe of evil doers, jus' like
some ferocious holo-hero." She sighed. "But heah I
am, nothin* but an algae-herder."

"An algae-herder?" Channa asked in amusement.
"Algae travel in herds?"

"Oh, you know what I mean. Instead of doin' some-
thin* adventurous, I'm just watchin* these bubblin' vats
o* goop. The excitement is not goin* to give me ulcers."
She sighed. "Sometimes 1 wish fer a real disaster. Some-
thing special."

Channa looked at her seriously. "Be careful what
you wish for," she said. "You may get it"

Channa hummed tunelessly as she filled out the
adoption forms, looking perfectly content and at peace
with the world. The sound irritated Simeon excessive-
ly. True, he could in a sense "leave" the area and had
done so. But he kept coming back, as though to a
blown circuit; drawn to the irritant, checking again and
again to see if anything had changed.

Finally he said, "You seem happy." Hap. Happy. Bet
that would bug herbad.

"I love filling out forms," she said. "The more com-
plex the better."

Somehow it figures, Simeon thought. When you became a
broom, the universe lost a great tax auditor.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

43

"Filling out your side of this is no problem," she said.
"Your whole life is on file. But I'm going to have to talk
to the child soon."

"I can do that," he said defensively. Icon oho fell out the
damn forms, in half the time or less and without making
obnoxious noises.

She turned to look at the column that held him.
"Simeon... while I grant you that we should be as deli-
cate as possible." She paused and gestured helplessly.
"I've ... we've, got to get him to Medical. We've got to
prove, by retinal patterns and gene analysis, that he
exists at all. You know how bureaus are: no tickee, no
washee. We've got to do a recorded interview of him. So
he's got to emerge, fully grown Ñ well, almostÑfrom
the engineering compartments and into the real world,"
she concluded in a rush.
"Okay.I'U talk to him."

"Simeon," she hesitated, "why don't you introduce
us? I mean, you can discuss the adoption with him. I
can stay out of sight nearby until he wants to meet me."
She's being conciliatory, he realized. Why doesn't this reas-
sure me? He forced down nonexistent hackles and
replied in a neutral tone. "Sure, why not?"

Channa could hear them talking from where she sat
against the cold bulkhead.

"You want to adopt me?" a young voice asked in dis-
belief. A yearning hope sounded through it

"Yeah," Simeon said, surprised to find that he was
getting to like the idea.

Joat's head popped into Simeon's line of sight, seem-
ingly from out of nowhere.

"You can't do that," he said with complete certainty,
voice flat again. "They won't let you adopt a kid. You're
not real."

Simeon was taken aback. "What do you mean I'm

not real?"

44

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM, Stating

Joat's young face was lit with amused wonder. "I hate
to be the one to break your bubble, but who's going to
let a computer adopt a kid?"

"Where did you get the idea that Ymjust a computer?"
Simeon demanded with a hard edge to his tone.

Channa bit down on the fleshy part of her hand. That
kid doesn't pull his punches, she thought. Poor Simeon brain,
though, dolfttfa offended dignity bit well... Shestifledthe
rising guffaw with a swallow. An audible reaction
would be out of place. Definitely

"You told me," Joat informed him, exasperation
creeping into his voice. "You said 'I am, in effect, the
station.' That means you're a machine. I've heard
about AIs and voice-address systems."

To both his observers, his voice was conciliatory but
his expression reflected an inner anxiety that maybe
this computer was losing its tiny mind.

And he probably thinks that would be very interesting, the
station computer losing function, Simeon thought in
exasperation. Kids!

He had noted that, while Joat could keep his voice
disciplined, his expression revealed his real feelings.
Simeon wondered if he could maintain that duality in
the presence of the visually-advantaged. Not that he,
Simeon, was in any way visually-dtsadvantaged. Quite
the opposite, as Joat would learn soon enough. 'Joat,
I think it's time that notion got altered. There's some-
one nearby I'd like you to meet. She's known as a
brawn, and she's my mobile partner." Which was true
as far as it went, Simeon amended.

Joat's face went wary. "I don't want to meet
anybody," he muttered sullenly, looking cautiously
around him. "She, you said?" Another pause. "No, I
don't want to meet anyone."

"But we've already met, sort of," Channa called out.
Joat vanished instantly.
"He's gone," Simeon said.

THE Cnr WHO FOUGHT

45

"No, he's not," Channa contradicted. "He's nearby.
Joat? Simeon is a real person, as real as you or me. But heis
connected to the station in such a way that the station is an
extension ofhisbody. I'd be happy to tellyouaboutit."

No answer but a receptivity which she could almost
feel beyond her in the narrow access aisle.

"Well," she began, "shellpeople were created as a
means of enabling the disadvantaged to live as normal
a Hfe as possible. At first that was limited to the creation
of miniaturized tongue or digital controls, or body
braces. The extension of such devices was to encapsu-
late the entire body, though some people still think it's
just the person's brain Ñ because they're called
"brains.' Despite popular fiction, such an inhumanity is
not permitted. Simeon is there, body, mind and ..."
She paused and then realized that she couldn't permit
personal opinion to corrupt the explanation. **...
heart. Simeon is a real person complete with his
natural body but he is also this station-city in the sense
that instead of walking about it, he has sensors that
gather information for him and he controls every func-
tion of the station from his central location."

"Where is ÑM Joat paused, too, struggling to com-
prehend the concept"Ñ he? He is a he, isn't he?"

Tin as masculine as you," Simeon said, accustomed to
such an explanation of shellpeople but wishing to
underline his humanity. He did note that his voice had
dropped further down the baritone level he used. Weft,
whynot?

"Oh!"

"Instead of having to give orders to subordinates,"
Channa went on, "to, say, check the life-support sys-
tems, or Airlock 40, or order an emergency drill, he can
do it himself more quickly and more thoroughly than
any independently mobile person could.**

"And I don't need to sleep, so I'm on call all the time."
Simeon couldn't resist adding that.

46

Atme McCaffrty &f SM. Stirling

"Never sleep?" Joat was either appalled or awed.

"I don't require rest, although I do like relaxation
and I have a hobby...."

"Not now, Simeon, although Ñ" and there was a
smile in Channa's voice **Ñ I admit that that makes you
more human."

"Were you human... I mean, were you... did you
live like one of us?" Joat asked.

"I am human, not a mutant, or a humanoid, Joat,"
Simeon said reassuringly. "But something happened
when I was born, and I'd never have been able to walk,
talk, or even live very long unless the process of encap-
sulating had been invented. Usually it's babies that
become shellpeople. We are more psychologically
adjusted to our situation than adults. Though some-
times pre-puberty accident victims work out well as
shellpeople. I can look forward to a long and very use-
ful life. But I'm human for all of that"

"Very human," Channa replied in a droll voice.

Simeon didn't quite like the implications, but at least
she said the right tilings.

"Andyou run the city?"

"I do, having instantaneous access to every com-
puterized aspect of such a large and multi-function
space station as well as peripheral monitoring devices
in a network to control traffic in and out."

"I thought brains only ran ships," Joat said after a
long pause.

"Oh, some do, of course," Simeon said, slightly
patronizing, "but I was specially chosen and trained for
this demanding sort of work." He ignored the delicate
snort from Channa that somehow reminded him he'd
started out his management career in a less prestigious
assignment. "Do you understand now that I am human?"

"I guess so," was Joat's unenthusiastic reply. "You've
been in that shell since you were a ftofcy?"

"Wouldn't be anywhere else," Simeon said proudly,

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

47

letting his voice ring with a sincerity no shellperson
ever had to counterfeit.

There was a slightly longer pause. "Then it's not
true, what I heard?" Joat began tentatively.

"Depends on what you heard," Channa said, having
learned in academy the long list of atrocities sup-
posedly enacted.

"That they put orphaned kids in boxes?"

"Absolutely not!" Channa and Simeon chorused in
loud unison.

"That's totally inaccurate," Channa said firmly. "It's
the sort of mean thing people say to scare kids, though.
The program won't accept perfectly healthy bodies. To
begin with, the medical costs and education are
incredibly expensive. So is the maintenance for
shellpersons. But it's better than depriving a sound
mind of life because the body won't function normally.
Don't you think so?"

Silence greeted that query.

"And if you've also heard the one about taking the
brains from the homeless or displaced Ñ no, that is
definitely not permitted, either."

"You're sure?"

"Sure!" Simeon and Channa replied firmly.

"And we should know," Channa went on. "I had to
spend four years in academy to learn how to deal with
shellpeople, of all types."

Which, Simeon knew, was another backhanded slam at
him. Did she never let up? One thing was sure, Joat's
misinformation made him more determined than ever
to adopt the boy and give him such security that that
sort of macabre stuff would be forgotten.

"And, no matter what sort of spaceflot you've been
told, Central Worlds doesn't make slaves of people,"
Channa was saying at her most emphatic. "The very
idea sends chills up my spine."

"Not even criminals?"

48

Arme McCaffny 6? SM. Strrtmg

"Especially not criminals," Channa said with a little
laugh. "With all the power available to a shellperson,
you may be very sure Central Worlds makes certain
that they are psychologically conditioned to a high
ethical and moral standard."

"What's this e'tical?" Joat asked.

"Code of conduct," Simeon said, "probity, honesty,
dedication to duty,personal integrity of the highest
standard."

"And you own this station?" Joat asked, his voice
tinged with awe.

Channa laughed in surprise at that assumption.
"I wish," Simeon said fervently.

"Remember my mentioning that creating and train-
ing a shellperson is expensive? I wasn't kidding. By the
time Simeon graduated from training, he had an enor-
mous debt to pay off to Central Worlds."

"Hunh. Thought you said they weren't slaves,"

"They're not Every shellperson has the right to pay off
their debt and become a free agent A good many ship-
persons do and then they own themselves. A management
shellperson, like Simeon, will often get their debt picked
up by a corporation, and when they've worked off the
debt, they work under contract"

"Are you paid off, Simeon?"

"No, though my contract fee is generous enough.
But, as I mentioned, I have hobbies.. .**

"Like what?" Joat asked.

"I've got a great sword and dagger collection which
includes a genuine Civil War flag, a regimental eagle."

"Hey, way cool! Got any guns?"

What is it with some males ? Channa thought.

"Yeah," Simeon said eagerly. "I've got a real Brown
Bess flintlock, and an M22. And one of the first back-
pack lasers ever issued!"

"No shit!" Joat said, seeming to forget Channa's
presence for a moment His voice sounded louder, as if

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

49

he was drifting back from whatever refuge he had
bolted towards. "All sorts of old weapons, eh?"
"You name it A Roman gladius, even."
"A what?"

"Good question," Channa said.
"Shortsword. Over three thousand years old,"
Simeon broke in. A pause. "Of course, it could be a
reproduction. If so, it'sstill in awfully good shape for an
artifact of that age. I can trace it back at least five
hundred years* provenance. The records say it was first
owned by the legendary collector Pawgitti, then dug up
out of the ruins of his villa."

My throat is getting hoarse, Channa realized an hour
later. Amazing what he knows. Joat had probably neatly
escaped formal education, but had acquired a
jackdaw's treasure chest of information about his
keener interests. Anger awoke in her. It was criminal
that a mind like Joat's had been ignored, like a weed in
a corner lot. Or the barbaric way in which pre-shell
handicapped were ignored as nonproductive persons.
Joat wasn't just interested in showing that he knew
things that she didn't, either. There was a naked
hunger to learn in his voice. Closer and closer... She
could see a little huddled shadow and an occasional
glint of his eyes as he turned his head.

"And weapons are merely a pan of what I've been
collecting over the years," Simeon was saying. "I've got
great strategy games Ñ whole boards..."

Channa was shocked. Simeon would adopt the kid as
a games partner? Then she realized he was only
sweetening the pot

"I don't know of a shellperson who has adopted, but
I think it would be to your advantage, Joat. Certainly it
would mean security and a place to call your own
instead of ducking from one hidey-hole to the next
when inspection teams go through. You'd have regular
meals, and you could go to engineering school"

50

Amu McCaffrey 6f SM. Stating

Channa heard a soft "yeah" from out of the cold
darkness.

^ "Think it over tonight, why don't you?" Simeon said
"Tomorrow you can come up and scan the room I can
assign you. Maybe have dinner with Channa and talk
about it some more."

"Yeah," came more dearly from out of the darkness.

"Okay," Simeon's voice was pleased. "If you have any
questions tonight, just speak 'em out, and 111 answer."

CHAPTER FOUR

It's an honor to win the trust of a child, Simeon thought,
especially one who's been through what this kid has. I don't
think Fve ever been quite this happy. He intuited that the
feeling approximated what the word "tickled" meant,
and he also thought that this was what it felt like to
smile. Since Joat had moved in, he'd been trying to
empathize more with the softperson worldview.

Of course, there have been some surprises....

Seen for the first time by the full light of day-cycle
floros, Joat was not prepossessing. Short for his age,
scrawny to the point of emaciation, with huge blue eyes
in a face that might have been any color short of black
under the gray, ground-in coating of grime and machine
oil. The mouse-brown hair had been hacked off and was
standing up in tufts. The clothing was an adult-sized
coverall with the arms and legs cut off to fit An air of sul-
len suspicion accompanied a pungent odor.

"I've never run across the name, Joat' before,"
Channa began casually. "It doesn't give a clue about
where you're from the way that some names do. I use
'Hap' as a surname because I was born on Hawking
Alpha Proxima Station, for example."

'Joat'smy name." Joat answered, sticking his chin out
aggressively. "I gave it to myself. It means 'jack-of-all-
trades,' 'cause that's what I do, some of everything."

"So it's a nickname," Channa said. "Shall we put you
down on the form as Jack, then?"

Joat looked at her with cool contempt "Why? That's

52

Anne McCaffny fcf SJVf. Stiriing

"You're a ... girl?" Simeon asked, bringing the "g"
sound up from the depths of his diaphragm and manag-
ing to split the word in several astonished syllables.

"What's wrong with that? She's a girl!" Joat declared
defensively, pointing at Channa, as though ducking
responsibility.

Channa burbled with heavily suppressed laughter
before she managed some reassurance. "Hey, it's all
right that you're a girl. It's just that... All that dirt..."
Channa couldn't risk continuing in that vein and
switched abruptly "... is an effective disguise."

"Good disguise," Joat said proudly. "Bad idea to let
people know when you're a girl. Can cause you
trouble. But, since you say I gotta go to a medic," she
paused to look questioningly at Channa who nodded,
"best you don't look surprised then." She grinned slyly
and then looked over at Simeon's column. "You really
didn't know?"

"Not a clue," he said wonderingly, and Joat giggled
with pleasure. "Hmm. According to the biological
studies I had, it's not easy to tell with the pre-pubescent
... dressed or in disguise."

*7 can always tell," Joat said with some contempt for
his ignorance.

"You're a softshell."

"You sure you're not a computer?"

"Yes, lam Ñ stop teasing!"

Joat grinned unrepentently. Simeon felt an
unfamiliar sensation and tried to identify it. A flutter in
the ribcage? he thought wonderingly.

"Why haven't they answered the tight-beam?"
Simeon asked nervously a week later. "I sent every-
thing. The forms were all correct"

"It's a bureaucracy," Channa said soothingly.

"Oh? That's supposed to reassure me?" Simeon said.
A moment later: "Why is Joat's room always a mess?

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

53

I send in the servos twice a day and it's still in a
maximum-entropy state."

"It's called 'adolescence,' Simeon," Channa said. "At
least she seems to be settling in at school"

Simeon's image winced. Joat had unexpectedly
cleaned up as pretty, though she had wrinkled her
nose when he'd mentioned that. She seemed to trust
him Ñ Channa as well Ñ to a limited extent- Any fur-
ther social interfacing was... lacking.

"She gets in too many fights," he said. She also
fought very, very dirty. He winced again when he
thought of the places some blows, kicks and punches
had landed.

"She's not used to interacting except as a potential
victim," Channa replied. "I don't think she's ever been
with anyone in her own age group. She certainly
doesn't know the local rituals. She's an outsider Ñ
practically a feral child. We're lucky she can respond to
other human beings at all."

An awkward silence fell for a moment Unspoken:
and she didn 't think you were human when she met you.

"She's learned about daily showers," Simeon
pointed out helpfully.

"Oh, there's good stuff in Joat," and Channa
grimaced. "Even if her brand of ethics is unusual, at
least she's consistent in applying it. All she needs is
some security and a chance."

"Isn't that all anybody needs?"

Several hours later, Simeon still glowed with satisfac-
tion in their accomplishments with Joat. This, being a
father thing, is great, he thought, and warmed measur-
ably towards Channa. Tvegot to thank her.

For the first time since she had arrived, Simeon looked
into her quarters and was surprised at how, in that short
time Ñ under two weeks, although it seemed like more
Ñ it had changed from the Spartan chamber Tell Radon
had occupied. She had tinted the walls a soft, off-pink

54

Anne McCaffny fc? SM. Stating

and had put "paint-chips" into the permanently installed
frame-projectors. The jewel-bright colors and romantic
images of the pre-RaphaeEtes, Alma-Tadema and Max-
field Parish glowed from the walls, along with some
modern Mintoro reproductions. The bedspread was an
icy gray satin on which were scattered embroidered pil-
lows of peach and gray and blue.

"Say, Channa," he said in tones of pleased approval,
"I like what you've done with the room."

Channa emerged from the bathroom dad in a blue
silk robe trimmed with lace, a brush in her hand and
swept out of her quarters into the main lounge without
saying a word. She stopped in front of Simeon's
column and crossed her arms, her eyes blazing. All
Simeon's warm feelings fell into cold ash as he looked
out at her. Maybe if he didn't say anything, she'd go
away and not say whatever it was that was burning
inside her eyes. Nah, when have 1 euer been that lucky ivhere
she's concerned*

Her body was rigid, though her shoulders twitched
and her ftps opened several time. He'd better say some-
thing to stem the acid eruption.

Using as casual and complimentary tone as he could
manage, he said, "You have very romantic tastes,
Channa," which seemed to reduce her blazing eyes a
degree or two. He'd never know why he continued:
perhaps sheer mischief to get a little of his own back.
"Though your bed looks amazingly like an ice cube."

She blinked in astonishment and he thought, A hit! A
very palpable hU! But then she took a deep breath.

"I did not think," she said, every word precise and
polished, "that it would be necessary to actually say this,
but since I must, I shall. Because we got off on the wrong
foot and I did not trust you, I swept my quarters for active
scanners.'1 She crossed her arms. "You will please," she
went on with careful emphasis, "not ever enter my
quarters without knocking and requesting admittance,

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

55

and waiting for my express permission to enter. Is that
clear, Simeon?"

"I apologize, Channa. Of course you're right. I got
careless, all those years with Tell."

"As to the quality of my taste ..." she said in a voice
even more brittle than before.

Ohplease, hethought/orone^just once, skutupandletitgo.
"... it's none of your business." She glared at him.
"Given your own preference for interior decoration,"
she said indicating his sword and dagger collection, "I'd
say you have titanium gall to make snarky remarks
about mine."

"But I like it. I said I liked it!"

"And what," she continued unheeding, "would
someone with such a morbid fascination with
humanity's lapses into ritualized slaughter know about
romance anyway?"

Simeon was dumbstruck. "I've never... thought of
my interest in military history as a 'morbid fascination.'
I am genuinely fascinated by strategy and military tac-
tics. But to call it morbid, well, romance and morbidity
have a long and interesting relationship."

She sighed with exasperation. "Let's just say that while
both can be morbid, romance and militarism make
uncomfortable..." and she winced "... bedfellows."

"Channa, some of the most romantic people in his-
tory have been military personnel. Doesn't the very
word 'warrior' conjure up romantic images?"

She shook her head discouragingly. "Not to me!"

"Not even 'knights in shining armor'?"

She groaned. "Look, Simeon, it's late and I'm tired.
Let's just say that I don't like my privacy invaded at any
time, by anyone." Her lips curled in a slight rueful grin.
"But I think I overreacted a tad. Especially when you
made fun of my decor."

"Well, you might wait till you're actually being made
fun of before you start clawing pieces out of people."

56

Anne McCaffny 67 SM. Sttrting

"Sorry."

"Romance has its place," he murmured.

She smiled sardonically and raised one eyebrow.
"With all due respect, Simeon, I doubt that romance
has crossed your mind. Real, genuine romance, with its
aspects of tenderness and sentiment are, if you'll
excuse me, beyond your ken."

TTiere was more challenge than honest regret in her
voice, and he took offense. "Because I'm a shellper-
son?" he asked, fairly purring with suppressed anger.

Channa's jaw dropped. "N-no, of course not!" she
said, stammering slightly. Then she caught herself and
shook her hairbrush at him. "What a nasty, evil, slimy
debater's trick! You know perfectly well that I never
even thought of that! What I meant was that so far in
our acquaintance, you have yet to demonstrate that
you are sensitive, or idealistic or ... well, tender,
ftission, now Ñ I think you've very effectively concep-
tualized raw, basic, animal passion. Which does not
exist in the same universe as romance."

"Let me tell you something, Ms. Hap. I'm well aware
that romance happens in the mind and the soul and
the heart. I know that it isn't necessarily a physical
thing. Remember Heloise and Abelard.. .*

"Great warrior couple, were they?" she asked smiling.

He sighed to himself. What do they teach them in univer-
sity these days? "Not they, milady. I see I must persuade
you beyond any measure of doubt You've put me on
my mettle." She cocked her head at him. "I shall court
you, belle dame sans merri, and win your heart."

She laughed aloud in astonishment. "You've got
your work cut out for you. I may like the romanticalÑ
as decor Ñ but I'm no dewy-eyed sentimentalist and
not at all susceptible."

"Oh, so you're seduction-proof, are you?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer.
Goodnight, Simeon."

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

57

"Goodnight, Channa," he said quietly as she left
without another word.

Not susceptible, eh, Happy baby1? Well, get ready for it,
sweetheart Ñ you're in for the time of your life.1 You want
romance? FU give you romance, little lady, in such subtle and
clever portions, you won't realize that you're being wooed by a
very personal phantom lover.

He settled down to consider his strategy. Softshells
could rely on physical attraction for starters; that was
impossible for him, of course.

How to begin, he wondered. Well, with Channa, I sup-
pose I could start with deft cooperation and nineteenth-century
manners. I'd better look into the mores of Hawking Alpha
Proxima Station and see what their courting customs are.
Nothing so blatant as gifts right off, hmmm. Ah-ha! Music!
After all, it hath charms to soothe the savage beast, or breast.
Both apply in this case. Now, fit just access her musical reper-
toire Ñ which doesn't invade her privacy, merely her overt
records...

"Hey, Simeon, what's going on?" Joat said, turning
from her breakfast to stare at his column.

"Going on, my dear?" Simeon said.

"Yeah, going on. All of a sudden you're so smooth
you'd make a wombat puke, and Channa looks as if
she'd just found a dead body, a long-time dead body."

Channa snorted suddenly. Since she was in the mid-
dle of a mouthful of coffee, the results were spectacular.
Joat silendy offered her a napkin as she coughed and
sputtered.

"You're imagining things," Simeon replied, with a
touch of asperity. He shifted into a mellow tone: "Are
you all right, Channa?"

"What's wrong with Simeon?" Patsy asked, sotto
voce. They were in the shadow of an impeller pump,
and the vibration would make voice-pickup difficult

58

Arme McCaffrcy &? SJW. Stirling

"Wrong?" Channa said, frowning.

"Yeah, he'sagreem' all the time.

"Now that you mention it..."

The woman from Larabie shrugged. "Don't look a
gift horse in the mouth, Chan. But, if you do, check the
teeth fer file-marks."

Chief Administrator Claren gave a final keystroke.

"That's the projections matched against the past five
years," he said. "You'll note turnover is a little high, but
on a transit station, it's difficult to keep people."

Channa frowned. "I'd think it would be easier here,"
she said. "More big-city facilities."

"Also easier to leave," Claren pointed out, nodding
towards the large passenger terminal.

"We should do more in the way of social and cultural
activities," Channa said. "The contingency fund would
cover it, and in the long run, such amenities pay for
themselves and then some. There are a lot of mining
and exploration sectors around here " Ñ which was
exactly why SSS-900-C had been established in the
middle of the cluster of mineral-rich fifth-generation
suns Ñ "and their people need leisure activities just as
much as their equipment and ships need servicing.
The Perimeter's a gold mine for its owners and for the
station, to name your only real star attraction. If the
outposters could get entertainment and commissary
supplies in a range from cheap to expensive, they
wouldn't need to travel further in towards Center. This
whole area would take a big step further toward being
part of the Central Worlds and not just a primitive
frontier zone,"

"Exactly, Ms. Hap," Claren said. He was a mousy-
looking little man, with thinning black hair combed
back over his head. He dressed like a humorist's carica-
ture of a bureaucrat, down to the keypad holder on his
belt. "It's what I've been saying for years."

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

59

"What do you think, Simeon?" Channa asked.

"Sounds good to me," the affable city manager
replied.

Claren coughed violently; one of his hovering assis-
tants scurried forward with a glass of water.

Channa waited until he had recovered. "Surprise
you, did he?"

"Surprise me? Me? No, no, something caught in my
throat. Air's dry, I think." He hastily swallowed another
sip of water to reinforce that interpretation. "Now, here,"
and his fingers flew over the key of his terminal, "are
some plans we've had pending, with the projected Ñ"

"Answer the question, please, Administrator
Claren," she said firmly but quietly. She might be new,
but she could recognize "sign now, please," when she
heard it

"Well, ah, this isn't the first time these specific
projects have been put forward," Claren said. "But, ah,
there has never been a sufficiently positive reaction to
implement the schemes. Until now, that is. It's a
pleasure to work with someone who can appreciate
planning ahead and is so naturally decisive. Ahhhhh,
oh dear." His voice trailed off.

Channa's took on a steely note. "Changed our mind,
have we, Simeon?"

"This station wasn't in a position to plunge into such
an ambitious project. Much less have the incentive,"
Simeon replied smoothly. "Tell was a roughneck like
me. Neither of us had the background for coordinating
such enterprises. Here, anyway."

Channa turned, subliminally aware of something
moving through the air behind her. It was a message
tray, floating at elbow height. The domed top folded
back, revealing chilled glasses and a frosted, un-
corked bottle of a fine vintage. A single red rose lay on
the white napery. Her lips grew thin but, as she saw
Claren watching her closely and knew that she must

60

Ame McCaffrey &? SM. Stating

be flushing, she controlled her impulse to sling the
bottle at the sensor that linked Simeon to this office.

"Yes, by all means let us drink to the success of this
undertaking, Claren," she said and began to pour.

Facetiously, she lifted her glass towards the sensor
and sipped, mildly surprised at the dry crisp taste.
"Hmm. Not a bad white! Didn't know you had it in you,
Simeon."

"I'm not without a few talents of mine own," he
replied, wishing there was an imager in Claren's office
so he could project the suave smile he was feeling.

She downed the rest of the glass, replacing it on the
float. "If you'd just transfer the plans to my terminal,
Administrator Claren, I can peruse them at my
leisure." Then she strode purposefully out of the
office.

She was storming by the time she got to their lounge.
"I bet you think you were being subtlel Subtle like collid-
ing with an asteroid, you Ñ" She swung around to the
screen which he had prudently left blank, giving her
anger no focus. Then she began to hear the sounds fill-
ing the room.

Simeon delightedly watched her expression
gradually alter from livid to astonished and finally to
enchanted as the lilting sounds of the Reticulaii mating
croon filled the lounge. The sounds were long, low,
dreamy. There was no formal melody, but somehow
the theme suggested the stillness of deep forest and
dew felling like liquid diamond in streaks of sunlight
dazzling through die leaves.

Channa stood still for a moment. She winced slightly as
the door dosed with an audible swoosh, annoyed that
any other sound marred the perfection of what she was
hearing. Then, stepping carefully, as though fearful that
doth brushing against doth or shoe against carpet might
cause her to lose a precious second of the complex musk

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

61

that surrounded her, she walked to a chair. She sat down
so slowly she seemed to float down to it, scarcely seemed
to breathe as she absorbed the music.

My first impression of her was correct, Simeon thought,
watching Channa. She is a fox! Then, peering more
dosely, he wasn't so sure, for her eyes were half-dosed,
starred with tears, and his acute vision let him see the
skin of her face relaxing, smoothing out Shedoesn't look
that foxy now! In feet, she looks kinda... sweet

When the croon had drifted offinto a serene silence,
she sat without moving. Then she dosed her eyes and
slowly leaned back, clasping her hands before her.
When she opened her eyes, they shone and her voice
was husky.

"Oh, Simeon ... I can forgive you a lot of tricks for
thatl I might even kiss you. In appreciation, of course.
That was so beautiful. Thank you," and she smiled.

Simeon modulated his voice so that there was a "smile"
in his tones when he answered her. "You're welcome. Do
you happen to know what that was?" He didn't think she
was likely to, but he kept that out of his tone.

She wiped an eye and said, "I've never had the
opportunity to hear one, but that has to be a Reticulan
croon."

"You're right about that," Simeon said with satisfac-
tion. "But 111 bet you'll never guess who performed it"
He tried hard to keep any smugness out of his voice.

"Now, how would I know tufe? sang, much less who
could, beside Reticulans, and they're on the other side
of this galaxy. Oh! It couldn't be ..." Her eyes went
round in awed surprise. "Not Helva? She's supposed to
be able to sing them. But... you ... and Helva, the
ship who sings?"

"None other." Simeon was gratified by her reaction.

"You know her?"

"Indeed I do," and Simeon allowed himself to speak
with considerable pride. "She drops by every now and

62

Anne McCaffrey fcf S M. Stating

then to visit Ñ" he couldn't resist a little pause for effect
"Ñ me. We discuss and exchange contemporary music
from all parts of the galaxy. Since there are so few record-
ings of Reticulan croons Ñ which we shellpeople enjoy
so much Ñ she herself made me a gift of this one." The
memory of his thrill at receiving such a prize colored his
tone.

Channa smiled in response. "Finally read my per-
sonnel tape, did you?"

"Well, I'd love to say that I'm just terribly perceptive,
but music's mentioned as a significant interest. I just
thought this particular recording might please, too."

"Oooh," she said with a quaver in her laugh, "music
hath charms department? As you said not long ago," and
there was an edge of combined sarcasm and chagrin,
"you have a few talents." Then she added brightly, "Do
you sing, too? That's not mentioned in your personals."

Simeon made a throat-clearing, clearly self-
deprecating sound. "I am not like Helva and make no
claims to musical discrimination. I listen to what I like,
but I don't know if I'll like something until I hear it."

"So what else have you heard and liked?" she asked,
relaxed in the afterglow of the beautiful croon.
"Besides rockjack, that is?"

His tone was embarrassed. "I really don't tike Rant
much. I just got used to it, you know. The guys on those
early mining belt assignments I had didn't play anything
else. Most ofwhat I like turns out to be classical or operatic."

"Me, too," she said, smiling towards his column with
a kindliness he had not seen in her before. "Well, if
Helva liked you enough to give you that superb
Reticulan recording, and you actually admit to a
preference for classical and operatic, perhaps we
should call a truce?"

"A truce? Do we need one?"

She narrowed her eyes. "In a manner of speaking,
we do. We have struck a few sparks." She grinned. "A

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

63

mutual appreciation of music is so far probably the
firmest common ground between us. Halfway through
secondary school, I realized that my best friends were
also my choirmates." She leaned toward the column,
with the first intimacy she had so far shown him. "We
used to produce and cast ghost operas."

"You did what?"

"We'd choose a subject or theme, and a composer, then
select a cast The rules said that composer and cast have
to be dead,"

"Really? How bizarre!" Simeon paused to consider
the notion. "Do go on."

"We'd start with ... the name of this opera. Say,
'Rasputin.' Have you heard of him?" The merry tone
of her voice was subtly teasing, challenging him.

"Of course, I have. He's often credited with being
the indirect cause of a successful revolution."

She regarded his column with a wry expression.
"You would know about him if he caused a war,
wouldn't you?"

"Do we, or don't we have a truce?"

"We do," she said, holding up both hands in surrender.

"Who writes this 'Rasputin' opera?"

"Oh, Verdi," she said instantly. "Sucha grand theme as
well as that particular time would appeal to him. Don't
you think? Now, you tell me who should play the lead."

Simeon accessed the necessary historical information
from his files. "In the available likenesses of him,
Rasputin has enormous eyes and a riveting gaze, so we
want a singer who's physically powerful and dramatically
able to do justice to such a role. How about fllac Sue, the
Sondee tenor?"

"Eh... he does have a compelling gaze, I grant you,
and his eyes are large. But don't you think he has a few
too many of them? Besides he's only retired, not dead,"

Simeon flipped back a massive leap in the research
file. "Um, Placido Domingo?"

64

Amu McCaffrey 6f SM. Stirling

"I know of him! He lived in a time blessed with great
tenors. He's perfect! Tall, lean, big brown eyes and
what a voice. Nice choice, Simeon."

"And he's dead, too."

"I can see it now," she said, standing suddenly and
clutching histrionically at her throat. "They poison him,
you see," and then she flung her arms wide, "and he
sings! They stab him," she mimed a thrust to the bosom,
before flinging her arms wide again, "and he sings! They
drown him," she flapped her arms as though splashing
frantically, then placed both hands on her heart, "and he
sings! They shoot him," she staggered to Simeon's
column and leaned her back against it.

"Channa, he's got to stop singing sometime."

She raised a finger, "Sotto voce, he sings, 'it is over.' **
She slid down the column into a graceful art-deco posi-
tion, "And he dies." Her head flopped forward and her
hands dangled loosely from her wrists.

The com chimed and the screen cleared, allowing
communications specialist Keri Holen an unob-
structed view of Channa slumped at the base of
Simeon's column. "Oh! What's hap ... I mean, Ms.
Hap! Simeon, is she all right?"

Channa was instantly on her feet, palm up in a calm-
ing gesture. "I'm fine," she said, serenely adjusting her
tunic blouse. "What is it?"

"Uh ... a message from Child Welfare on Central,
from a Ms. Dorgan. If it's convenient, she's scheduled a
conference call for 1600 today."

"Perfect," Simeon said, "tell her thank you," and he
broke the connection.

"I thank the powers that be that wasn't Ms. Dorgan
herself," Channa said nervously.

"I like that 'if it's convenient,'" Simeon said, musingly.
"Channa, have you ever replied, 'No, it's damned
inconvenient' ?"

Channa regarded him with a singularly blank

THE Cnv WHO FOUGHT

65

expression. "No, actually I haven't But then, in my
branch of the service, it shouldn't ever be!"

Simeon studied Joat nervously, wondering if they
should have dressed her differently. All the other
children her age wore the same shapeless clothes, dis-
gusting and often raucous color combinations, but not
necessarily what the prudent guardian would recom-
mend for this kind of interview. The com chimed.

Too late, he thought. Channa seemed calm, but then
Channa always seemed calm. Odd when she can exude
such depths of hostility.... Still, she always did them with a
controlled and icy demeanor. Yeah, Channa was fine.
Joat's hands were clasped in her lap. Poor fad, her knuck-
les are white. But otherwise she seemed composed. Tm
fme, too, he thought Tm not calm, but fin fme.

Ms. Dorgan studied them from die screen, like a teacher
assessing a class of delinquents, then smiled, a tight supe-
rior little smile. Her hair was gray, cut short, combed in a
simple disciplined style. She wore a severe dark blue suit
with a prim white blouse and no jewelry. The view ofback-
ground behind her was official and equally unsofiened by
anythingeven remotely unofficial

I'll bet she starches her bras, Simeon thought. He
remembered Patsy Sue using that expression: entirely
appropriate right now.

Ms. Dorgan nodded to Channa, then fastened her
cold litde eyes on Joat. "Hello, dear," she said in syrupy
tones. "I'm Ms. Dorgan, your case-worker."

Joat's face had hardened to wariness, her whole
body going rigid. Simeon wondered how his nutrient
fluid had suddenly gone so cold, but he didn't dare
divert an erg of his attention away from these proceed-
ings. He didn't even dare reassure Joat. She mumbled
a barely audible "hello" in response.

"Well, dear, you made some very impressive scores
on the tests. Did you know that?"

66

Anne McCaffrey &? SM. Stirling

A nearly inaudible "no" answered her.

Ms. Dorgan glanced down at something below the
screen's range, and then her right hand became visible,
probably pressing the button to scroll her file forward.

"You are, however, considerably behind your age
group in a good many subjects, with the exception of
mathematics and mechanicals, where you positively
excel." That much was said with some genuine
enthusiasm. "You've no idea the excitement you've
generated in some quarters. I think you may now
anticipate a much brighter future than your past may
have led you to expect, dear."

Simeon spoke for the first time, keeping his promise to
his prote"ge\ *Joat wants to study engineering. You
obviously concur that she has a unique talent in that field."

Ms. Dorgan's studied smile wavered and the tendons
on her neck stood out with the strain of not obviously
peering around the room. "You are the ... shellper-
son?" She seemed to hold her thin lips away from the
word as though it might soil them. Her eyes roved
between Channa and Joat as though hoping one of
them might be ventriloquising the male voice.

"Yes. I am Simeon, the SSS-900-C. I'm applying to
adopt Joat as a full daughter and full relation."

Ms. Dorgan's hand delicately brushed a strand of
hair back into place.

"Yes, well, as to that," she raised her brows as
though surprised that he had spoken at all, "you real-
ize that other prospective parents have put in
applications for children with Joat's potential. We
usually give preference to couples." There was a feint
emphasis on the final word. She fingered her collar
nervously. "In Joan's case..."

*Joat," said Joat, Simeon and Channa in unison.

'Joat's case, I've shown her file to a quantum-lattice
engineer, who is a professor of my acquaintance, and he
immediately expressed an interest in her. He'sextremely

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

67

enthusiastic about tutoring someone of such promise.
He's married, too, on a life-contract with a poet Such a
situation would have many advantages for die child."

Simeon watched Joat's face go white. "As a station
manager, I am intimately acquainted with a variety of
sciences, including regular updates on state-of-the-art, so 1
am quite capable of tutoring her, on the practical level she
prefers, in any specialty that interests her. Relax, Joat Ms.
Gorgon'smerelymentioningoptionsand possibilities.'*

The case-worker loudly cleared her throat" My name,
Station Manager Simeon, is Dorgan, with a D. Which
reminds me, Joat, somewhere on the application, ah,
here it is, it says diat your name is an acronym for 'jack-of-
all-trades.' Where Jack* was a gender-inappropriate first
name, Jill* was substituted. How would you feel about
being called Jill?"

"About the same as I'd feel about being called shit,"
Joat replied, every inch the belligerent corridor-kid now,
scornful and angry; no trace of her earlier diffidence
remaining. "And I wouldn't answer to it 'cause it's not my
name."

'Joat!" Channa gasped.

"Don't you see it, Simeon, Channa?" Joat said, her
blue eyes sparkling with contempt "This is all a joke!
This ol'Ms. Organ..."

"Dorgan, if you please."

"... bitch has made up her mind. What are we wast-
ing our time and credit talkiri to her for?"

"Calm down, Joat," Simeon said. "Let's not jump to
conclusions yet. Ms. Dorgan, although I have
unlimited communication links, my time is heavily
scheduled, and I was assured by the authorities that
this was merely a formality. Shall we move to settling
the details now?"

Slightly pink in the cheeks, Ms. Dorgan took a deep
breath and released it in a small huff.

"I can'tbelieve that you would persistin thisapplication,

68

Anne McGffiey & S.M. Stnimg

knowing that a human couple is interested in the child It
would be one thing if no one wanted her, but that is not the
case. In the first place, since she's at a very sensitive stage of
development, there is no way that someone like you could
appreciate what she's going through."

"Because Simeon is male?" Channa asked quietly.

"Because he is a shellperson. My dear Ms. Hap, as a
professional brawn, you are surely well-acquainted
with the peculiarities of these persons. Why deny that
they are practically a different species? With no real
understanding of what it's like to be independently
mobile? How could he possibly raise an active, growing
child?" The slight emphasis on the two adjectives made
Channa clench her teeth in disgust Dorgan's question
was also rhetorical.

"Well, now, Joat," Simeon drawled, heavily borrow-
ing from Patsy Sue again, "I guess you were right. Ms.
Gorgon had made up her mind before she saw us."

"That's Dorgan," the case-worker said, leaning
heavily on the "d."

"Toldja," Joat said, "ol* Ms. Organ's already
decided."

"Dorgan. Dorgan. DORGANI"

"Stop it! All three of you." Channa cast her glare
over Simeon's column, Joat's flushed face, and finally
settled it on the Child Welfare representative. "You
have some very strange ideas about shellpeople, Ms.
Dorgan, with a D. My advice would be to consider care-
fully before you make any more bigoted remarks. I
particularly resent your denying Simeon his intrinsic
humanity. I've never met a shellperson who wasn't at
hist as able and responsible as a softperson. And indis-
putably more ethical! In fact, your remarks indicate
active prejudice on your part. Prejudice which is, I
might remind you, legally actionable.''

Ms. Dorgan raised her chin. "There's no need, no
need at all, Ms. Hap, to make threats. No doubt it is due

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

69

to your long association with such persons that you no
longer consider them... abnormal." Before Channa
could get over sputtering at that, the case-worker
smiled smugly. "In the child's best interests, I'm afraid
that I shall have to deny this petition. I shall make
arrangements for her transport to Central, where,
after a short stay at our orphan facility, she will no
doubt be adopted by aproper family." Still smiling she
broke the connection.

"Well?" Simeon almost shouted into the ensuing
silence. "You're not going to let her have the last word
on this, are you?"

"Don't she have it? Far's this orphan child's con-
cerned?" Joat demanded bitterly. "I knew this'd
happen. I told myself this'd happen. But you two
trained brains were both so damned sure" She sneered
as she counted off her points. "You knew just where to
go and just who to talk to and just what to do. But you
know what? You don't know ANYTHING! But after
all, how could you?" she asked her eyes beginning to fill
with tears. "Everything's always gone your way. Every-
thing's always just been handed to you." She started to
sob. "Shells, education, food, a living place. Well, they
don't get handed out, lemme tell ya. And look what
you've done to me\ Now they know I exist and where I
am, and they're coming to get me! For all I know, that
lattice engineer wants to play diddly on my lattice work.
Only he's human and a professor and's got an 'in* with
her. You got me into this, but I'm sure not waiting for
you to get me out. I'm not goin' anywhere with nobody \
don't want to!" Her voice had reached scream level
before she pivoted and ran from the lounge.

*Joat!" Channa moved to follow her, but Simeon
closed the door in her face. "Simeon!" she said in
disbelief.

"Let her go, Channa. What could you do now? Lock
her in her room until they come for her?" Channa

70

Anne McCaffrty &? SM. Stating

looked as though he'd struck her. "She needs time and
privacy. She needs to feel in control again. Let her alone."

"There are things we can do, Simeon. I'm not going
to let that woman win. We can go over her head in
Child Welfere. We can appeal to SPRIM and Double M
for help. You taped that interview, didn't you?"

He laughed, for once pleased to see her so combative.
"Yes, I did, and won't the Mutant Minorities and the
Society for the Preservation of the Rights of Intelligent
Minorities dump on La Gorgon for her attitudes! Good
thinking, Channa. I'm this very moment apprising them
of this incident Y'know, this could even be fun."

Late that night, Simeon noticed that a light came on in
Channa's quarters. He had assiduously kept to his
promise, but the faint glow under the door was plainly
visible. Well, to anyone with photonscanners like mine, he
amended. Still, he was observing the principle of the thing.

Channa heard a chiming sound and, after a
surprised pause, called out "Hello?"

Simeon's voice, carefully adjusted to low audibility,
answered from the lounge, "May I come in?"

She smiled and laid aside the reader she'd picked up.
"Yes, you may."

She lay in bed, looking tousled and sleepy. Simeon
thought that she looked little more than a kid herself,
"Can't sleep?" he asked.

She shook her head, "I keep thinking of Joat, alone
down there in the dark."

"Joat's been asleep for hours,"

"How do you know that? She might still be crying
her heart out for all we know."

"I know because I can hear little, Joat-sized snores
issuing from one of her favorite haunts."

"She didn't turn on her sound-scrubber?"

"Nope. She was upset!"

"No, she was thoughtful. She is becoming more

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

71

civilized if she didn't want us to worry." And Channa
laughed in relief, then sobered. "She's such a good
kid. She really didn't deserve Gorgon on her case.
Look, Simeon, B & B's are considered couples by
Central Worlds. Our contracts tend to last a lot longer
than mere marriages. If I stayed on for say, ten years
and applied for joint custody with you, most of
Gorgon's objections would be invalid."

"Joint custody, huh? Well, Gorgon can't say a female
brawn isn't a good role model. I've got comlines hotting
up, but what I don't know is how many others at Child
Welfare suffer from Dorgan's prejudice. I'd hate to see you
make such a 'supreme sacrifice' for nothing. Fighting Ms.
Gorgon through the bureaucracy won't turn us to stone,
but it could bore our brains into oatmeal."

Channa gave a litde "tsh" of scorn. "It's not like I've
got anywhere else to go."

"I know, I heard about Senalgal. Sorry, Channa. I
know what it's like to lose an assignment you'd sell your
soul to get"

She raised her eyebrows inquiringly. "What was it
for you, if you don't mind my asking Ñ a planet-based
city, a scout ship? Or maybe you looked as high as a
whole planet?"

"I've got a city, more or less. Definitely not a scout ship.
The brain/brawn scout ship is too claustrophobic and
limited. Ilike dealing withalot of people. lenjoy the give
and take of various personalities and situations. More
challenge on a station this size. Hove being challenged."

"Not a city, not a ship. You're after a planet?"

"No, I wouldn't want that much responsibility. And a
planet's too sedentary. But a ship, definitely, so I could
get around a lot."

"Ah,*' she said, making the connection between his
leisure interests and the only ship assignment that
applied, "a Space Navy command-ship." She cocked
her head. "Are you in line for one?"

72

Anne McCaffrey fcf SM. Stating

"Theoretically, yes. I've applied and what do I get?
"You're too important where you are,' " he began in a
singsong monotone, " 'You're too perfect where you
are, there's no one else as well-trained as you are for
such a highly specialized situation.' I've always," he
added wryly, "considered SSS-900-C to be a temporary
assignment.''

"Forty years is temporary?''

"With shellpersons, of course it is."

"Maybe we aren't so imperfectly matched after all."
She paused a moment, then in a flippant tone added,
"With Joat to sweeten the deal, I don't think I would
regard staying here as a 'supreme sacrifice.' Ugh!
Orphan facility, indeed! Pick her up? Like some sort of
a package?" She peered out of her room towards his
column. "Do you think we stand a chance of reversing
Dorgan's decision?"

Simeon wouldn't have taken bets, but he had barely
tackled the task. On the up side, he felt something deep
inside him beginning to uncoil. "With a B & B partner-
ship, we have a chance. 1 appreciate your willingness to
consider one very much, Channa. Right now though,
dear lady, why don't you sleep on it?"

She sighed. "Mm, but I'm restless, and," she played
with an edge of the reader, "there's nothing I really
want to read."

"Then," he said, gendy dimming the lights, "I shall
recite a bedtime poem for you. Settle in." He waited
until she had scooted down and adjusted covers and
pillows, smiling as she did so. He began, "We who with
songs beguile your pilgrimage ..." Her eyes dosed,
and gradually she drifted off to sleep as Simeon recited.

"... softly through the silence beat the bells,

Along the golden road to Samarkand."

CHAPTERFIVE

Channa emerged into the lounge, heading for the
table and her morning coffee. A wave of sound struck
her Ñ very much a wave, like plunging into a curling
jade-green wall that seized her and bore her back
towards the beach.

She couldn't help but recognize the music as "The Tri-
umphal March" from The Empress of Ganymede by User.

She paused with a slight frown when she realized
that she had unconsciously altered her stride to suit the
march tempo. She stopped, and her pause was the
length of a measure. She laughed when she realized it.
"Does this mean I get to be queen today?"

"Actually, after your restless night, I decided some-
thing upbeat would suit."

"Well, I sure got off on the right foot, then," she said
with a sound approximating a giggle.

Simeon was pleased. Last night their relationship
really had turned a corner. They were going to be all
right.

"So, a good morning to you, Simeon," she said with
an impish smile.

"And a good morning right back atcha, as Patsy Sue
would say."

Channa's appreciative smile faded slowly into a
frown. "I'd consider it a real good morning if I could
see and speak to Joat as soon as possible. I'm very
worried that she might jump ship on us, and that
would ruin every step of progress we've made with
her."

74

fc? SM. Stirling

"Wish I could oblige you on that, Charm a, but I
don't know where she is now. She turned on her
sound-scrubber early this morning and effectively
vanished." He hurried on when Channa's face
showed her disappointment clearly. "I don't think
she'd leave on two counts. One, she knows her way
intimately between the skins of this station, and it's
certainly big enough for her to change hidey-holes on
an hourly basis if necessary. And two, none of the
ships undocking today are the type she could stow
away on or hire out on. I've got every sensor tuned to
her registered patterns, and I've discreetly alerted
key personnel."

Channa nodded and went to her console, pulling the
notescreen towards her. "Then we had better get to
work. SPRIM ought to be moving on that dispatch you
sent off last night." Her anxiety lifted at Simeon's
knowing chuckle. She ran her fingers in a tattoo on the
console. "And I suspect Child Welfare won't like being
on their hit list."

"Hit list?" Simeon spoke with some alarm. "Are they
that way inclined?" He didn't wish Ms. Dorgan any
pkysicalharm.

"The way SPRIM execs rave about humanocentric
chauvinism is enough to turn even a tolerant person
into a xenophobe. They've got money and they're tire-
less in ensuring protection. That slur she made on
shellpeople, well.,. And the MM make SPRIM look
like a quilting party."

"Quilting party?" Simeon searched his lexicon for
the term.

"Old-fashioned way to spend a productive and
socializing evening," she explained absently,

"Oh. Not much we can do until they get back to us, I
suppose."

Simeon sounded unhappy. Channa quirked a
corner of her mouth.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

75

"We can't go in with lasers blazing and slag Child
Welfare Central, if that's what you mean. If the station
had full self-government, they wouldn't be able to mess
with us Ñ so let's concentrate on station business for
now, shall we?" She cleared her throat. "I've been
going over your accounts, Simeon, and I've got to say
that you have some weird entries. For example, tucked
away in the fourth quarter is the notation 'stuff.' You'll
have to be more specific than 'stuff.'"

"Why? 'Stuff' is acceptable to the accountants," he
said in a facetious tone.

"I'm not an accountant. I'm supposed to be your
partner. Would you explain 'stuff'?"

"It's like this, Channa, I buy things that interest me.
Me, Simeon, not the station master brain." Never mind
that that also accounted for why he hadn't paid off his
natal debt to Central Worlds. So Tm a packrat. Is that her
business now?

Far out in space, Simeon's peripheral monitors, the
ring of sensors that warned of incoming traffic, began
to transmit information that suggested a very large
object was headed their way. From the ripples it caused
in subspace, it was very large or very fast or both. He
split his attention between her and the alert, and sent a
communicator pulse in the direction of the distur-
bance. There were strict rules on how to approach a
station. Approaching unheralded broke half a dozen
regs and invariably caused stiff credit penalties.

Respond to hailing, he transmitted. Respond
immediately.

"Well, we've got this inspection and audit coming up
in two weeks," he heard Channa saying in a firm let's-
not-beat-about-the-bush tone. "We have get to have
everything shipshape and Bristol fashion, partner."

He did appreciate that she subtly reminded him of
her promise to help with Joat, but this was no time for
petty details.

76

Anne McCaffrey &? SM. Stating

"I don't have a ship shape, Channa," he muttered in
his distraction, "but I do have something very unusual
out there, approaching me without due protocol."

Visual information was now reaching him. Dropping
out of interstellar transit and approaching at... Great Ghu>
.17 c! A large vessel whose profile did not fit any known
human ship. The basic hufl-fonn was spherical, but car-
ried a web of crazy-quilt additions, constructions of girder
and latticework. Some of them looked as if they had been
slashed off short with energy beams, and the cutpoints
were tattered. People were generally not sloppy with cut-
ting tools. Enemies were. Simeon relayed a standard
"please identify" message and put the tugbays on standby.

"Nor am I abristle," he continued to Channa. "The
inspectors will be when they come, though."

Channa groaned. "Even for you that was lame.
You're being unusually ridiculous, Simeon. You know
the mentality that goes with these inspections Ñ sen-
tence first, trial afterwards."

"In other words, off with our heads, if they could
reach mine."

"And us running as fast as we can to stay in one place,
too. Which capability you also don't have. Now, since
this is my first time with you.. .**

"Oh, Channa... pant, pant**

"Simeon," she said warningly. "I know where the
controls for your hormone balance are."

"Heh hen, sorry. What's the worst they can do to
me? Send me back to asteroidic purgatory? Like I told
you, I'm only on temporary duty here anyway."

Channa had been running a scan. "There are twelve
entries for the word 'stuff'! You want this to be a tem-
porary assignment? Well, you may get your wish."

"It's not a wish, my dear, I never said 'I wish they'd
take me away from here and put me anywhere else.'
I've a very definite destination in mind, as you so
astutely concluded the other evening. If I had my

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

77

druthers, I'd be running a command ship and waging
star wars on the Axial Perimeter. But," and he gave a
huge audible sigh, "wbo believes in wishes anymore?"

"You do, with all your war games and tactical
daydreams."

The approaching ship still had not responded, nor
was it dumping speed as fast as it should. In fact,
whoever was in command had waited much too long to
begin doing so. The flare of drive energies should be
blanking out that whole quadrant, and the neutrino
flux was barely enough for a pile just ticking over.
Simeon came to a disagreeable conclusion.

"Whoa, there, Channa. We've got stuff, not mine,
coming in to make mince of us if we're not careful.
Have a look?"

Simeon slapped up a main screen view of the
intruder bearing down on them. Surprise and alarm
held her motionless for only a split second before she
reacted.

"I'm alerting the perimeter guard," she said, wiping
her previous program and inputing the new.

"Right!" Although he already had, two sources of the
same alert emphazised the emergency. "I'm busy cal-
culating how to cushion the impact of that great
hulking mass whistling towards us. I hope they know
where the brakes are." Nice to have a brawn to share
emergency work. The station personnel should get
used to dealing with her.

Stabbing the alert button on the main console,
Channa then called up a finer resolution of the object,
which to her appeared to be a darker mass against the
black of space.

"Unannounced arrival!" She transmitted the image
to the personnel on perimeter traffic control, alerting
them to the pertinent vector and ordering them to
begin rerouting incoming traffic.

"How do you know it's ivhistting toward us?" she

78

Aftne McCaffrey fc? 5 M. Stirling

asked in as calm a voice as he was using while her
fingers flew over the controls. "There's no sound in
space."

Simeon could detect just a micro-tremor of fear in
her noncommittal tone. "If I think it whistles," he
answered, "it whisdes."

"Perimeter says it's like nothing they've ever seen
before either and Ñ" she paused and licked her lips
"Ñ it's about to cut a broad swath through the proper
traffic pattern."

Simeon took full control of the traffic control boards.
He could see and respond to die necessary changes in
traffic patterns faster than any unshelled human. He
was simultaneously redirecting and responding to
dozens of ships.

Suddenly Channa started cursing. "Damn their eyes
and innards! These damned civilians are asking ques-
tions instead of doing what they're supposed to in
emergency routines. Now you see why I didn't like you
calling those false alarms. No one's paying a blind bit of
attention to tkasgenuine emergency! Wolf-cryer!"

"I've put it on every public screen. They'll know it's
no drill," Simeon said, his voice velvet with malice, "and
it's coming straight at us. I don't think it'll stop,"

I didn't realize you could banter when you're terrified, he
thought with tight control, though it helped being able
to set your analogue of adrenal glands.

Channa stared, stunned, as the screen filled with the
alien ship. "You haven't activated the repel screen? Hit
it for God's sake!" She pressed her rocker switch just a
fraction of a second behind Simeon.

Joat gritted her teeth and wiped eyes and nose on
the back of her sleeve. It was a good shirt, and dean.
Dumb, she told herself fiercely. Dumb, dumb, dumb bitch,
dumb gash, just like the captain told you you were. Especially
when he was drunk. He'd always been worse then.

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

79

She turned her attention back to the little computer.
It was the best she'd ever been able to steal, a real
Spuglish; jacked into the station system right now, with
the skipper-unit she'd cobbled up to keep the station
from knowing just where or why.

Ship schedules / departures / outsystem, she told it
Machines didn't lie to you! You could trust machines
and, if they didn't do what they were supposed to, it
wasn't because they had lied. Maths and machinery
could be believed.

A barking sob broke through her lips, spattering
drops on the screen. She bit down on her hand until
the pain and the taste of her own blood let her con-
tinue. Then she wiped the machine down with the tail
of her shirt Machines didn't let you down, either.

Departures, the computer said. Look, Joat, you
don't have to leave here. Trust me, we'reÑ

"No!" she screamed.

Joat stuffed the scramblers into her pockets and
went off down the duct at a scrambling crawl, ignoring
projections and brackets that only slighdy impeded her
progress. The motions were reflexive, with a graceless
efficiency.

Nobody's going to give me away again, she thought. Get
me used to eating regular and school and everything, then give
me away! The thought went round and round in her
head, filling it, so that it was minutes before the klaxon
penetrated her self-absorption.

"Oh, shit," she whispered in a still small voice, listen-
ing. Then she turned and went back the way she came,
faster still The computer was back there, and without it,
she wouldn't be able to find out what was really going on.

Her spacesuit was diere, too. This sounded serious.

"THIS IS NO DRILL! REPEAT, THIS IS NO
DRILL1" The words rang down the corridors and
haUspaces, without the melodramatic klaxons Simeon

80

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating

had always used. "Nonessential personnel report to
secure areas. Report to secure areas. Prepare for breach
of hull integrity."

This time the citizens of the SSS-900-C listened, hasten-
ing into suits, gathering children and pets and heading for
the central core or section shelters. Crews pelted onto their
ships, even as moorings were detached and entry locks
irised shut and each "all on board" signal was relayed to
Simeon. Emergency crews flocked to their assigned sta-
tions. Infirmary patients who could not be moved were
placed in individual, independently powered life-support
units. All too soon, most of the citizens of SSS-900-C could
only wait, imagining their station crushed like an egg as
die invader plowed into them.

Simeon worked frantically, ordering ships of all sizes
out of the projected path of the incoming ship, brutally
suppressing the knowledge that ships with ordinary,
unshelled pilots could barely handle the split second
timing he was asking of them. So for, so good Ñ no one
out there seemed destined to die today. For a heart-
stopping moment he thought the alien might be
decelerating, but the blaze of energies sputtered and
died. It's only shed 7% of relative velocity, he calculated dis-
mally. Not nearly enough.

"Why didn't they program mobility?"
"Who?" Channa asked distractedly. "Where?"
"In me! In this station! I can't duck! I've no weapon-
ry to blast it out of my way. I can't even fend off such
mass. All I can do is watch. What lasers I've got can just
about handle a decent-sized meteor. The best I can do
is warm up his hull a little, and I have to wait till he's up
my ass to do it! Damn! This station is like a paraplegic
spaceship!"

"Whoa! Did you see that?" Channa shouted. The
mass had seemed to deliberately veer aside from an
ordinary asteroid miner vessel, something the miner
pilot himself probably couldn't have done. "Watch,"

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

81

she said, "there! Did you see? It jigged just a bit to miss
that incoming ferry traffic It is being guided."

"But by what?" Simeon asked. He ran calculations
on the ballistics of those maneuvers. The deviations
were absolutely minimal for the effect. "It's traveling so
fast now, no human pilot could stop it and stay con-
scious. TTiey don't answer any radio messages. TTiey're
ignoring the.damn warning flares. Shit, maybe they
think we're welcoming them. Ah, goodF

"But they are decelerating again, Simeon," Channa
said, glancing up from her own screens to the main
viewer before she went back to other chores which she
had assumed.

"Yeah, marginally longer this time. No, cutting out
Ñ no, decelerating again. Rate of energy-release ...
God, but they're still not dumping enough velocity!
And still on a collision course!" His voice went slightly
wild. "They mustwant to destroy me!"

"I don't see any weapons," Channa said, trying to
finish her current task in time.

"Who can tell in that jumble of struts and boxes and
crap! Besides, that thing itself is a weapon." Simeon had
just one card to play and at exactly the right moment
for maximum effect. "You're not even suited up,
partner. At least take shelter in my shaft core, Channa."

She shook her head, "Not till I'm dirough evacuating
the alien quadrant 'Sides, those Letheans scare easily
enough as it is without me appearing in full gear."

She had managed at last to get through to the leader
of the Lethe contingent. A people so formal that emer-
gencies required a ceremony, mercifully brief, for
deferring the usual endless courtesies in favor of sur-
vival. Had Channa not performed the ceremony and
explained the situation to them, they would have died
rather than commit such a breach of manners as
assuming that something was actually wrong. She
broke the connection at last and exclaimed, 'JoatT

82

Arme McCaffrey & S.M. Stirling

"She has a suit," Simeon said, "first thing I gave her.
She's probably in it right now. Why aren't you?"

She dashed for the cabinet holding her space suit
and began to struggle into it

"Come to me, Channa," he said, in a wildly facetious
tone, "come, touch the hard, male core of my inner-
most being."

"Ee-yuck, is that the sort of romance you've been
studying? Try another mode."

"When I've world enough and time, lovely one, but
have a look at what I've managed to arrange as stop signs."

Seemingly from out of nowhere, three communica-
tions satellites came diving towards the incoming ship,
two striking it head on and one slightly astern. Whole
sections of die scaffolding and outer skin of the derelict
sublimed in white flashes that expanded into circles
with zero-g perfection. The alien ship was not slowed
Ñ there was too much kinetic energy in that mass Ñ
but its vector altered slightly.

"Comsats aren't supposed to be able to move like
that!" Channa exclaimed tightly. Simeon's sensors
could hear the pounding of her heart, analyze the
ketones her sweat-damp skin was emitting. Fear under
hard control. The lady has guts, he thought.

"A little something I cooked up on my own," he said
smugly.

"Cooked in the wrong sort of pot, you crazy loon.
Without those satellites, we'll be out of communication
with half the universe for weeks."

"Channa, if I hadn't done that we'd be out of com-
munication with the all of the universe permanently.
Besides, my satellite tactic worked!"

Channa looked up at the main monitor and saw that
the projected vector had skewed slightly. "Not
enough," she muttered. "Please don't use any more of
our comm satellites like billiard balls, Simeon. If we do
survive this, they'll be needed more than ever."

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

83

"Oh-oh," Simeon muttered.

"Oh-oh?" she repeatedly anxious.

It means, I screwed the pooch, Channa, Simeon thought
Aloud he went on. "SS Conrad, dump your carrier
modules and get out of that sector. You are now directly
in the path of the incoming ship."

"No-can-do SSS-900-C. I've got a full load here. The
company'll have my ass if I desert it"

"The company'll have to hold a seance to get it, then,
'cause if you stay put, you're about to become immortaL
Jump it!"

"Now!" Channa shouted. "It's less than two
k-thousand kilometers from you. Now, dammit!"

"No shit!" the pilot shouted and disconnected the
"cab," the crew quarters and control section of the ship,
from the much larger freight storage sections.

They watched the tiny cab move with agonizing
slowness across the seemingly endless bow of the
strange ship.

"Down on station horizon," Simeon instructed,
"ninety-degrees, straight down."

"Down? You want me to stop? With that bastard
coming right for me! Are you crazy?"

"It's your only chance, buddy. She's shallow on the
bottom but, by Ghu, is she wide! Show me what kind of
pilot you are! Not what kind of smear you'll make."

Obediently, the little ship flared energy, applying
thrust at right-angles to its previous vector. Its path
shifted, slowly at first and then with growing speed like
a bell-curve graph across a computer screen. Slowly,
slowly, descending, a bright spot against the ever larger
mass approaching them.

"Oh shit, oh shit," the captain whispered desper-
ately. "Help?"

The intruder was less than a kilometer away, now,
from the cab which looked like a white pin-point
against the black hull of the stranger. At half a

84

AnruMcCaffrey 6? SM. Stating

kilometer it cleared the leading edge of the incoming
ship and the pilot began to laugh wildly.

"Keep going," Simeon ordered sharply, to be heard
through the hysteria. "It's about to hit your freighter.
Keep moving till I tell you to stop."

"It's ore," the captain gasped though he sounded
more as if he was weeping, "iron ore. Nickel-iron-
carboniferous, in ten-kilo globules,7

Atu, crap! Simeon thought, as the intruder struck the
freighter with majestic slowness. The forward third of its
hull vanished in the fireball, and so did much of the
freighter's cargo. The energy-release and spectrographic
analysis would tdl him a good deal about the composition.
Right now he had millions of special delivery meteors
pouring down from the breached holds onto his station.
Greatexample ofNewtonian physics, actionand reaction.

The collison had, serendipitously, damped much of
the incoming ship's remaining velocity, but the frag-
ments of ship and cargo had picked it up for
themselves. He tracked the myriad trajectories of the
space flotsam and relayed the information to the ships
in the scatter area, directing them into still more impos-
sible flight patterns. He assigned the computer
responsibility for tracking and blasting the larger
chunks of ore with the station's lasers. No problems
with dispersion when the stuff was in your face. On the
other hand, there was one hell of a lot of it Simeon set
the computer to figuring out just how much would get
through.

He realized that Channa was staring at the monitor
in horrified fascination. "Hey Hap, Happy baby, get in
the shaft core."

"Why?" she asked. "It's stopping."

"Slowing, yes, but if it so much as kisses me on the
cheek, it'll breach the station and you're on a one-way
trip to the nebula. We need you here, so shaft me
baby."

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

85

"Shaft yourself," she said. "It has come to a complete
cessation of forward movement"

A final flare of energy left the aft third of the
intruder's hull slumping and melting, the drive cores
and conduction vanes white-hot and misting titanium-
rutile monofiber.

"So it has," Simeon said mildly.

Channa gave a giddy whoop and slumped against die
central shaft, trying to wipe at the sweat that filmed her
face. Her glove dadoed against the faceplate ofher helmet

"Dead, stock still," he said, feeling intense relief.
"Relative to the station, that is."

With a glance at his column, Channa hit the discon-
nect switch and the red warning lights stopped
flashing. Simeon began to announce stand-down to
Condition Yellow in dulcet, paternal tones. Channa
took off her helmet and began to confer with the Lethe
leader, reestablishing the usual formal relations.

When at last they disconnected from their various
crucial chores, Channa looked at her incoming
electronic messages and laughed. "By God, but we're a
resilient species. Look at these."

Simeon scanned them and laughed, too. "I haven't
even finished flushing the excess adrenalin from my
system and they're already complaining about lost
cargo and insurance. I love the human race. We're con-
sistently more concerned with trivia than serious
threats."

"And we're not even out of danger, are we?"

"Out of mortal danger. That thing could have
totaled us. The ore will cause a lot of trouble and
expense, so let's maintain Condition Yellow for a
while."

That would keep nonessentials out of the exterior
compartments, mostly industrial areas anyway, and
everyone in suits with helmets in reach and within
sprinting distance of the shelters. Megacredits of

86

Arme McCaffrey 6f 5M. Stirling

money were being lost, of course, most of which would
be paid by Lloyds' Interstellar.

Channa was examining the strange ship on a dose
screen.

"Next question is who, or what's, aboard.**

"And if there's anything left of the pilot captain,"
Simeon added, "who's broken regulations I didn't
know existed till now. I sent out a dozen probes to
secure available information on what's left. Ah! Input!"

The main screen blanked, and then displayed a
schematic of the strange craft, shifting to a three-
dimensional model as the computers extrapolated.

"So that's what it looked like before it started hitting
things and melting down its drives," Simeon mur-
mured as brain and brawn surveyed an elongated
sphere amid its tangle of extensions. "And now I'D sub-
tract what doesn't appear to be part of the original
construction."

The resulting model didn't look much like the
slagged ruin tumbling slowly through space in the
real-time image that Simeon kept up in the lower right-
hand corner of the screen. Channa leaned forward and
frowned at such an unfamiliar design. Huge it certainly
was. At least eighty kilotons mass, with extravagant
ship-bays and airlocks, old-fashioned cooling vanes
around the equator...

"That looks like human construction," she said
thoughtfully. "Just not any model I've ever seen or
heard about" Human civilization had been unified at
the beginning of starflight and their ships bore a family
resemblance.

"It does look vaguely human-made," Simeon agreed,
"but I can't even find a match in historical files of Janes'All
the Galaxy's Spaceships for the last century. The composition
is odd, too; metal-metal fiber matrix. Ferrous alloys. No
comparable design for the last two centuries. Hmmm."

"Something?"

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

87

"This." He called up an image beside the
reconstructed ship.

"Close but no cigar," Channa said.

"That's the last of a, line of heavy transports Ñ that
one was a Central Worlds space-navy troop-transport
Designers were Dauvigishipili and Sons. They used to
make a lot of militaty craft, operated on stations out of
the New Lieutas system. See, there is some use to being
a military historian. Ah, tere."

The image changed and now there was a virtual
one-to-one match.

"Colonial transport," Simeon said. "They stopped
building them about three hundred years ago, so it
could be up to four hundred years old. Original
capacity was ten thousand colonists, in coldsleep of
course, with a crew of thirty. There were a lot of odd lit-
de colonies back then, people looking for places where
they could practice as weird a religion as they wanted
and not have the Central Worlds bugging them. The
few that survived are still pretty flaky. Are you
surprised to learn that the ship-class was called the
Manifest Destiny vehicle? A few of the later models had
brain controllers before Central Worlds put a stop to
that practice on humane grounds. Some of those
minor cults were Ñ" he made a brief pause to consult
his lexicon "Ñ aberrant! Hmm, and I'd bet this one got
transmogrified into an orbital station. Look at all that
stuffi"

"Your kind of 'stuff'?" asked Channa ingenuously.

"Gadgetry," he amended in a firm, this-is-serious
voice, "plastered on the exterior: observation stuff,
transmission stuff, the usual. And intended to be used
in orbit. I mean, who would try to fly any ship with all
that crap sticking out? For starters, the thrust axis
wouldn't be through the center of mass anymore, so
for starters, it's unbalanced."

Channa scanned through more probe transmissions,

88

Arme McCaffrey fc? 5M. Stirling

induding some views taken by the perimeter sensors as
the hulk barreled in, so they could see the havoc caused
by collision and too-rapid deceleration.

"They may have had cause for their precipitous
intrusion," she said, and froze a view of the stubs of the
radar and radio antennas. "Those look like battle
damage to me."

"Hmmm." Simeon did a rapid close-scan and match
with the naval records in his files. "You're right,
Channa-mine. Transmission antennae sheared off so
they couldn't have responded to our hails. Whoever
shot those darts knew his stuff, and their most vul-
nerable points. See the long star-shaped ripple
patterns in the hull? And those long sort of fuzzy distor-
tions clustered in the rear third of the hull? Those are
beamers at extreme range, I'd say. Hard to tell 'cause
it's so messed up." He spoke more slowly, in an almost
somber tone. "Hell, Channa, beamers like that are
naval ordnance weapons. The real thing." Oh, boy, this is
not like a simulation at all. "Somebody was trying to
destroy that ship."

"While the victims were desperate enough to fly
dose to blind and totally deaf," Channa said. That was
not a safe thing to do, even in the vastness of interstellar
space. "My next intelligent question is, did they escape?
Or are they still being pursued?"

"Ahead of you there, partner," Simeon replied, feel-
ing slightly smug that he had anticipated her. "I can't
detect anything coming in on the same vector." He
heaved an audible sigh of relief that coincided with
hers. "Or ... no, they were blind. The pursuit could
have dropped off long ago, and they wouldn't have
had any way to tell. But we'd better establish who and
why. If, and it's a big if, there's anyone alive in there
now to tell us the facts. I'm not inclined to be charitable.
For all we know, they could be pirates or hijackers, and
they were running from Central Worlds* naval pursuit.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

89

Either way, they came within centimeters of smashing
us to a smithereen."

"Smithereens," Channa said thoughtfully, "because
it's fragments they are and they have to be plural to be
dangerous. I rather discount their being illegals. Some-
thing real deadly mustjjiave pushed them to run in a
craft that unspacewbrthy. Something that came to their
planet suddenly. Why else wouldn't they take the time
to cut away that mass dinging to the ship? Maybe their
sun went nova. Anyway," she said briskly, "if there are
people on board, they're in bad shape and what have
you been doing to rescue and/or apprehend them?"

"Ahem, Channa-mine. You're the mobile half of this
partnership. Remember? So go be brawn for me. And
be careful!*1

Channa paused. "Ah, yes, so I am. Thank you for
reminding me of that!" Her tone was brightly britde.
"Somehow this wasn't the sort of duty I thought came
along with this assignment.''

"Well, it has!" he said, making his voice lilt. "Hate to
have caused you to get into that clumsy suit for no
reason at all."

She lifted her helmet.

"Thatta girl!" Simeon said rather patronizingly. She
ignored him. "Oh, and Channa?"
"What?"
"Before you lock your helmet, do switch on your

implant"

"Ah!" She couched the switch grounded in bone just
behind her ear, the contact responding only to her
individual bio-energy. "Are you receiving?"

"Check,"

"Can I go now?" she said rather patronizingly.

"Check."

"And mate, Simy baby."

"Got it," Joat muttered to herself as she rescued the

90

Anne McCaffrvy 6f SM. Stirling

computer from the shadowed ledge and turned it on,
fingers clumsy in the space suit gloves. Joat had
become well-acquainted with the station's drills but,
with survival skills as finely honed as hers were, she had
put the suit on when the klaxon sounded Red Alert
Besides, she'd had a chance to time just how fast she
could get into the flippin' thing.

"Wow!" was her reaction to the activity the computer
duly reported. "Fardling A wow!" Hie system was taking
in some heavy data, converting it and feeding it to Simeon
the way it transferred data from the pickups, though
never in this density or complexity. "Heavy read!"

Joat did her best to follow, but the speed was too
much. Then, "Got it." Now the main computer was also
encoding it for her little friend. She fiddled to get a
finer tuning, get rid of the drivel, giving her the visual
and aural stuff. She reared back in surprise, hitting her
head on the metal bulkhead but ignoring the pain as
she realized what she now had.

Hey, this is from Channa. Strange, heavy strange Ñ Tm
getting what she's seeing. She must have an implant to input
directly to Simeon like Mis. And what Channa was seeing
made Joat feel a little more charitable towards her.
Channa wasn't squishstuff, her private term for
organic tissue.

"Beats hacking in to the holo system any day," Joat
muttered, eyes glued to the miniature screen. She
squirmed into a more comfortable position, plopped
down a purloined pillow so she wouldn't slam her head
again, braced her feet against the roof of the duct,
plugged the earphone into the helmet outlet, and
absorbed the action.

"Real-time adventure holo!" Perfect, apart from a
wavering line down one side of the picture-cube that
must represent breathing and life-signs and stuff "Go,
Channa, go!"

CJtAFTERSIX

Station-born and bred, Channa had gone space-
walking as soon as she was old enough to fit into a
juvenile suit. But there the difference between her
Hawking Alpha Proxima Station days and now ended.

Theoretically, she knew that SSS-900-C was at the
edge of the Shiva Nebula. Trade routes crossed here,
carrying processed ores essential for drive-core
manufacture. As the ship which had brought her had
approached the dumbbell-shaped station, she'd
watched the process on her cabin's screen with great
interest. But theory, and that shipboard view in com-
plete safety, had not prepared her for the great arc of
pearly mist that filled her vision plate; mist glowing
with scores of proto-suns in a score of colors.

"Spectacular, ain't it?" Patsy asked.

Channa came to herself with a start "What are^ow
doing out here?"

"This tug's my emergency station," she said, grin-
ning broadly inside her bubble helmet "The algae'U
keep right on breedin' for a while without me, randy
little bastards. An' I'm a right good tug pilot, too."

"Believe you, ma'am," Channa said, throwing a
salute from her bubbled temple. What's Simeon on
about1* He's got a fleet Ñ of sortsÑtocommand. "Let'sgo."

In turn, they slid down into the cramped cabin of the
tug and plugged suit feeds into the ship system. The
tugs were stripped-down little vessels, just a
powerplant and drive with minimal controls; wedge-
shaped, with grapnel fields and an inflatable habitat for

92

Arme McCaffny fc? SM Stirling

taking survivors in their dual role as rescue vessels.
The docking bay and the cabin itself were open to
vacuum, but she felt a low whining as Patsy brought
the drive up and lifted them out. ijiere was the usual
disorienting lurch as they passed out of station gravity.
Now the only weight was acceleration, and the barbell
shape of the station was a huge bulk below them instead
of behind. Her senses tried to tell her she was climbing
vertically in a gravity field, then yielded to training as
she made herself ignore up and down for the omni-
directional outlook that was most useful in space.

"Vectoring in," Patsy said into her helmet mike.

Other tugs were drifting motes of light, fireflies
against the blackness. The analogy remained in force
as they circled the drifting hulk of the intruder; it was
big. Forward was a frayed mass of tendrils, and the rear
still glowed red-white, heat slow to radiate in vacuum.

"Readings?" Channa asked. Her nose itched; it
always did when she had a helmet on.

Simeon's voice answered her. "Main power system
went out when they burned their drive," he said. "Be
careful about that, by the way Ñ it's radiating gamma,
real museum piece. Main internal gravity field's down.
There are localized auxiliary systems still operating
amidships, and traces of water vapor and atmosphere.
There might be a chamber in there still running life-
support"

Channa scanned the bridge section of the ship again.
The instruments available in the cockpit of the tug
were basically little more than sophisticated motion
detectors.

"I can't get a thing," she said in frustration. "Am I
missing something?"

"Not much," Simeon told her. "There's too much
dirt out there, which'U confuse readings. See if you can
get aboard."

'Right," she said, and looked down the hull toward

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT	93

the equator where the shuttle bays should be located.
"Bring us in there, Patsy."

Channa flicked an indicator light on the hull. They
sank gradually, until the ancient ship filled half the sky.

"Don't build 'em like this anymore," Patsy said as they
beheld shuttle bay doorsVhich were easily two hundred
meters long, big enough to accommodate a small liner.

"They don't havejto," Channa answered absently.
Drive cores were a lot cheaper and safer nowadays,
which made ships this size obsolete. "Somebody did wA
hke them."

This close in, the scars on the hull were enormous,
metal heated to melting with a slagged look around the
edges of the cuts, but miraculously there didn't seem to
be much structural damage as they swung further into
the bay.

"They have to be alive," Channa murmured. "Noth-
ing could kill people this lucky."

"Except running out of luck," Simeon said grimly.

"There is that." She came at last to a smaller shuttle
bay and attempted to open the portal with several
standard call codes. "Simeon, what does the library
suggest we use for a ship this old? I'm not getting any
response with the usual ones."

"Three one seven, three one seven five?"

"Tried it, nothing."

Simeon relayed several more codes.

"Nothing's working," she said in disgust. "Could
they have locked them?"

"Hard to say until we're sure they're crazy or not.
Try another bay. That one might just be inoperative."

She had Patsy fly out and down the massive ship's
side until they came to another shuttle bay. It, too,
refused her admittance.

"This is ridiculous," she said in exasperation. "They
got in, so there has to be an operable entrance!"

"Considering the visible damage, maybe you'd have

94	Antu McCaffrty fc? SM. Stirling

more luck with a service hatch. There're close to a
hundred of them and only six shuttle bays. Try some-
thing midship."

"That's a good idea," she said, feeling more optimis-
tic with such odds. *Just in case, what do we use for a
can opener? We don't want any survivors dead of old
age before we reach them."

The very first hatch they tried opened, about half a
meter. Channa looked at it, Simeon looked at it
through her eyes via the implant which connected
directly to her optic nerve.

"You're not that big, but you're also not that small,"
he said with a wistful note.

"I'm putting us down," Patsy said. "Contact" A feint
dunk came through the metal of the tug as the fields
gripped the big hull.

"And I'm going to try and effect entry. I think it's
wide enough." Channa told Simeon.

"Just you be very careful, Channa-mine..."

"For Ghu's sake, Simeon, I've been space-walking
since I was five. I'm a stickfoot"

"Yeah, but I don't think your station ever experienced
a hostile attack. And there's all that flying junk! Could
knock you right off the hull... or smear you across it"

"You do know how to give a girl confidence. I'm
going, Simeon, and that's that." She muttered to her-
self about titanium twits and agoraphobic asses as she
prepared to leave the tug. Patsy Sue at least gave her a
cheerful grin and a thumbs-up. "We need to know
what or who's in there."

"No problem," Patsy cut in, reaching into the tool-
box under the pilot's seat. Her hand came out with the
ugly black shape of an arc pistol.

Channa looked around, her jaw dropped. "Aren't
those illegal?"

Patsy waggled the pronged muzzle. "Not on
Larabie, they ain't"

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

95

Channa shook her head, then picked up where
she'd left off. "You know, Simeon, they do give us
brawns training. I've done search-and-rescue before."

"How often?""

"Once. My inexperience will only make me more
cautious. J can-do thisj£imeon. Once I'm inside maybe
I can do something to widen the hatch opening. Direct
some of the other tugs this way so I'll have reinforce-
ments nearby, if I need them."

Patsy waggled the arc pistol, apparendy accustomed
to the weight of the weapon.

"Assuming it's needed," Channa added cheerfully.
"Have you got any positive life readings, partner?" she
asked as she eased herself with practised care out of the
tug. With one hand on a hull bracket, she let herself
drift to the hull where the stickfield of her boots held
her safely.

"According to my sensors, nobody's conscious. But
there imgfa be Ñ"

"Stop being so reassuring," she said facetiously.
"Have you got a medical team ready?"

"We were just getting to know each other," he said
regretfully.

Channa paused, caught by the emotion in his voice.
"You are the most manipulative creature it has ever
been my misfortune to meet," she said coldly, dipping a
reel of optical fiber to her suit. Simeon sighed. "Look,
I'm not a total idiot The tug will shield me on one side,
and I'm only two strides away from the hatch."

"Me? Manipulative? I'm supposed to keep my brawn
from risking its fluffy little tail."

Carefully breaking boot contact, she took the first
step to the hatch, and the second. Then clipped both
feet free and floated neady to the opening to examine it
more closely. The magnetic grapple built into the left
forearm of her suit twitched, with a feeling like a light
push. The contact disk flicked out, trailing braided

96

Amu McCaffrey £# SM. S&rixng

monofilament, and impacted on the door of the bay.
She activated the switch that reeled her in. Patsy fol-
lowed with an expert somersault leap that landed her
less than an arm's length from her friend.

"Showoff," Channa said.

"You ain't the only one with walk experience," Patsy
said. Her voice was light, but the arc pistol was ready as
she peered within the half-open hatch.""Coburn to res-
cue squad. We're about to enter the Hulk. Stand by."

Channa licked dry lips. It's the suit air, she told herself
firmly. Always too dry. She spoke aloud to Simeon.
"You're just jealous of me, Bellona Rockjaw, heroine of
the space frontier."

"I'm right there with you, Channa," Simeon said
with a trace of wistfulness in his voice.

"Hmmph."

She struggled to get through the narrow opening,
grunting with effort.

"Do not get stuck," he advised her.

Channa started to giggle. "Do not make me laugh,"
she admonished. "And stop reading my mind."

With the unpleasant sensation of metal and plastic
scraping against each other, she pushed through at last.
The chamber had held maintenance equipment of some
sort long ago; there were feeds and racks for EVA suits,
and empty toolholders. Only a single strip lit the dim in-
terior. On the hullside wall was a massive, clumsy-looking
airlock, and a blinking row of readouts beside it

"Some systems still active," she said. "Patsy, prop
yourself against the frame and see if you can't push the
hatch door open."

"Nevah get through iffen I doan," the older woman
muttered. "Makes me wish I were fiat-chested, too."

"She is not," Simeon replied vehemently.

Channa grinned, but Patsy Sue was busy getting her-
self into position in the hatchway, attaching her filament
to the inside of the hatch before she grabbed the top of

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

97

the frame with both hands and gave a mighty heave. The
hatch did not so much as budge a millimeter.

"No, it's jammed tighter'n... nemmind. You got a
polarizin' faceplate?" Patsy asked.

"Standard."

"Okay. I'll try sometnifa' subtle."

Coburn stepped t&ck, raised the arc pistol and fired
four times. The bar_oT actinic blue-white light was
soundless in vacuum, but a fog of metal particles
exploded outward like glittering donuts centered on
the aiming points. Patsy nodded in satisfaction and
twisted herself around to brace her feet on the hatch
and grip two handhold loops on the hull nearby.
Channa could hear her give a grunt of effort, and the
hatchway flipped out into space, tumbling end-over-
end.

"Nice brand of subtle you wield," Channa said.

"Think nothin' of it," Patsy said, pretending to blow
smoke off the arc pistol's barrel. "Any luck?"

Channa bent over the touchpad beside the airlock.
"Not much. Ah, that's got it. Simeon, how's the trans-
mission holding up?"

"Loud and dear, since Patsy got the door out of the
way. I may lose Patsy's signal further inside. Maybe you
should wait? There're four more tugs dosing in on
your position."

Channa ignored the pleading note, not without a
pang of guilt But what the hell, the situation is irresistible,
she admitted. She had been trained as an
admiriistrator-paitner-troubleshooter, but most of the
time, circumstances were fairly conventional. Not
boring; she wouldn't have made it through brawn
training if she were bored with it. On the other hand,
she wouldn't have been picked if there weren't an ele-
ment of the adventurer in her psychological profile.

"String this, would you, Patsy?" she said, passing
over the reel. The optical fiber was encased in woven

98

Anne McCaffny fc? SM. Stirling

tungsten-filament, with receptor-booster chips at
intervals. Barely thicker than thread, it had a breaking
strain of several tons. Tacked to the wall behind them,
neither her implants nor Patsy's suit communits could
fade out Patsy welded the outer encj to the hull beside
the hatch, using the spot heater in her construction
suit's gauntlet,

"Ready?" Channa said, taking a deep breath.

"Surely am." Patsy came up behind her, arc pistol
ready.

"Standing by," Simeon said.

The keypad lights blinked green and amber. "I think
it's saying there's some doubt about the atmosphere,"
Channa said. "It's definitely pressurized in there." She
attached a sensor line to the surface.

"They're in trouble," Simeon said. "Hear that whin-
ing?" Channa shook her head, and felt him boost the
audio pickups of her helmet. A feint tooth-grating
sound came through.

"What is that?"

"That's the main internal drive cores," Simeon
replied grimly. "The powerplant's down, but they're
still superconducting. The alloys they used back then
were tough. They built 'em more redundant then,
too."

"Which means?"

"Which means ... to stop this thing, the pilot put
everything the powerplant had into the drive. The
exterior coils blew before it could go all out. Now the
internal coil's going to go."

"Bad news," Patsy said.

"It's going to blow?" Channa asked apprehensively.
The energies needed to move megatons between stars
were immense.

Simeon listened. "Not/urf yet, but soon. Building,
but the noise will be considerably more audible before
I'd panic. Get that inner hatch open, woman! I'll send

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

99

the troops. You've got about thirty minutes before you
have to be off."

The interior airlock slid open. The two women kept
their helmets firmly ori as it slid down again and the air
hissed in. Channa locjked down at the readouts on her
sleeve and punched foranalysis.

"Oxygen's down, COg's way up," she said grimly.
"Necrotic ketofaes, or so it says Ñ decay products. I'd hate
to have to breathe this stuff. Could anyone breath it and
live?"

"Depends oh natural tolerances," Patsy replied.
"And it might not be bad further in." Being an environ-
mental maintenance specialist, she knew the
parameters. "From the volume of n.k.'s, their scrub-
bers must have been down for a while."

The inner hatch of the airlock slid open. Now that
they were no longer in a soundless vacuum, the
exterior pickups of their suits relayed the hiss. Unfor-
tunately, a high-pitched whine was now equally
audible: the kind that made the hair on your arms lift
up. Channa looked down the long corridor, shabby
with age and dim with the emergency glowstrips'
ghostly blue light.

Flies buzzed around them. Patsy slapped one against
the wall.

"Blowflies," she said after a good look. There was a
feint quaver in her voice. "Had 'em on the ranch."

"Sound pickup says there are live ones down there,"
Channa said. "Let's go."

Doctor Chaundra's hands flew over his keypad as he
made notes. He was a smallish brown-skinned man
with delicate bones and a precise, scholarly manner.

"Fifty maximum, you say?"

Simeon switched back to the implant data filling
another part of his consciousness. Channa's breathing
sounded ragged; her heartbeat was elevated, and the

100

Amu McCaffrey 6? SM. Stating

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

101

stomach-acid level indicated suppressed nausea.
Simeon wasn't surprised. The things she was seeing
made Aim feel a little sick in an entirely nonphysical way
that was still highly unpleasant.

"Short-term, improvised attempt at coldsleep," she
said, voice struggling for the objectivity of a report. He
looked at the tangle of cobbled-together equipment
around living and dead. "Probably*to cut down on air
consumption. Heavy equipment failures."

The latest chamber held mostly dead ones, eyes fal-
len in and dried lips shrunk back over grinning teeth.
Maggots, too. Some of the corpses were children, dead
children nestled against dead mothers. In a few, the
maggots gave a ghastly semblance of life, moving the
swollen, blackened limbs. About the only mercy was
the elastic nets that held living and dead down to the
pallets on the deck or to the bunks. Evidently someone
had foreseen that the interior gravity fields might go.
Simeon imagined walking into one of those chambers
and finding die putrefying bodies floating loose....

"This one Ñ" Channa began, swallowing and bend-
ing over a body that was either still alive or only
recendy dead. Drifting maggots brushed the surface of
her faceplate and clung wedy, writhing. She retched,
then forced herself to brush them away.

A chuwngggg sound echoed through the still air.
"What was that?"

Simeon split his viewpoint yet again. TTie rescue ship
hovering off the side of the hulk had launched a missile
carrying a large-diameter hose and attached to a
pumping system: a force-deck system which punched
through the hull and sealed itself.

<4Airharpoon,"hesaid. "WeTlbepumpinginasecond."

"I kin hear it," Patsy said from the corridor. Her arc
gun crashed, opening a sealed door. "More in heah.
*Bout the same."

"With fifty living, we should have no trouble," the

doctor was saying to Simeon in the safe, clean sickbay
office. Chaundra tapped for a closeup on one of the
recordings, looking at the life-signs readouts beside the
wasted face of a refugee. "Coldsleep dosed, the old par-
tial method; very^ unsafe dosage, and oxygen
deprivation. Dehydration, starvation, but mostly
inadequate air. Hmm."

He blinked. "Physical type? Sometimes there is
genetic divergence on isolated colonies. I must check.
These look to be of sudeuropan race Ñ archaic type,
very pure.. We should evacuate them as soon as
possible."

"I'm working on it," Simeon said with controlled
passion, fm never going to look at battlefield reconstructions
quite the same way again, he thought

Through Channa's ears, he heard feet clacking in
the corridor outside, stickfields in the suit shoes sub-
stituting for gravity. The volunteers came in briskly
enough, inflatable rescue bubbles in their hands, then
halted in disbelief One tried to control his retching for
a moment and then went into an excruciating and
dangerous fit of vomiting inside a closed helmet. His
squadmates removed it, only to have his paroxysm
grow worse as the stink hit his nostrils. The luckless
volunteer went into the first of the bubbles.

"Get moving!" Channa ordered. Only Simeon could
hear the tremors in her voice beyond the range of nor-
mal ears. "The living ones are marked with a slash of
yellow from a cargo checker. Use plasma feeds, the
emergency antidotes, and get them out of here. These
people belong in regeneration. Now."

Raggedly, then with gathering speed, the stationers
moved to their work. Channa escaped back into the
corridor, exhaling a breath she had not been conscious
of holding. Simeon was profoundly thankful she had
not tried cracking her suit seals when the air hose went
in. It would take months of vacuum to get the stink out

i

102

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating

of this ship. Much more time than the vessel had. The
final fire of the interior coils would at least cleanse it

"How long?" she asked.

"Not less than an hour, not mc-re than three," he
replied. "I think the pirate hypothesis is out."

Channa nodded jerkily; too many families and
children. Pirates were much more common in fiction
than in feet, anyway. Bodies floated in the next cham-
ber down, and medics working over the three living
before transferring them to life bubbles.

"Ms. Hap, I'm !Tez Kle." The Sondee worea medical
assistant's arm-flash on his suit.

Channa glanced at him in surprise. Not many aliens
chose Co specialize in Terran medicine. Of course, Son-
dee were rather humanoid, if you managed to ignore the
four eyes Ñ two large and golden about where eyes
should be, and two more above the whorled ridges that
served as ears; you could not sneak up on a Sondee Ñ
and the lack of any facial features apart from a nostril slit
and round suckerlike mouth. They had lovely voices,
with far more vocal range and control than a human.

She came up beside the bubbles. "You're in charge?"
He nodded. "Let me give you a hand," she said.

The first figure she turned to had reddish-black hair,
a short muscular man with a square face. She released
his restraints and lifted him, then gave him a gende
shove into the body-length sack, sealed it and activated
it. His color seemed to improve immediately. She
turned to his companion and froze.

"Channa, your vital signs just did the strangest little
jig. What's the problem?" Simeon asked.

This young man was tall, dose to two meters, broad-
shouldered and slim-hipped, shapely and muscular as
an athlete. He had a clean, classically perfect profile,
with firmly molded chin and sensitive mouth. His deli-
cately curving cheekbones were brushed by long dark
lashes, the corners of his eyes tilted upwards. His long

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

103

hair was blue-black, curling back from his high intel-
ligent forehead to fell almost to his shoulders.

Channa sighed in admiration, then caught herself.
This stud is so handsome even being sick makes him look good.

"Oh ho," Simeon crowed. "Very nice, Channa, but if
you don't put AHorys there in his sack, he's going to go
a very unflattering shade of blue."

"Em ... right" She unbuckled the man and sealed
him in his sack, connecting the two bags together. Then
she tugged them behind her to the lock where she
turned diem over to the waiting med-techs. The goods-
transporter's hold was filled with floating, jostling sacks
while Channa and the med-tech chief stood in the lock,
checking their sensors for heart-beats.

"Guess we got them all," !Tez Kle said. "But I don't
think we can save them all. We left those we were cer-
tain we couldn't help," he said apologetically.

"Nothing else you could do," Channa told him. "We
don't have time for anything else. Go," she said, and
slapped his shoulder, "I've got a tug outside." She
sealed the end of the caterpillar lock behind him and
waited impatiently for the pilot to retract it "Damn, I
wish we could have gotten to the bridge."

"You and Patsy give it a try," Simeon answered.
"Every bit of data wUl help, but we're cutting it a little
close. I'm positioning tugs to push that wreck away
from the station and soon"

Channa looked up sharply. "It's still a danger to you?"

"Nothing this brain can't handle," Simeon said
blithely. "You do what you can, brawn."

She looked down at the notescreen tethered at her
waist, studying the map of the ship's interior which she
had managed to acquire from its own data banks,
archaic as they were.

"I'll try through here," she said, struggling with the
toggles of the hatch. "It'dbe the more direct route, if it's
open. If it isn't, I'll rendezvous with Patsy immediately."

104

Anne McCaffrvy &? 5M. Stating

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

105

***

"I need some people for tug and detonations work,"
Simeon announced. "It's going to be dicey."

The assembly room beneath the-south-polar dock-
ing bay was full of second-wave volunteers, those not
needed or qualified for the emergency medical work.
Every single one stepped forward. Despite the serious-
ness of the situation, Simeon found time for a grim
internal smile. That old line's worked its challenge since GO-
gamesh, he thought, proving that even the oldest books
on military psychology were right. People were very
reluctant to appear frightened in front of others, espe-
cially their friends. He called the roll of those he
needed. They were already suited up, helmets under
their arms. Gus, of course, and six of the more
experienced tug pilots, with six of the mining
explosives experts who had been taking R & R on the
SSS. "Thank you and I thank all the rest of you, too."

As soon as the room emptied of all but the par-
ticipants, he began the briefing with the truth.

"That ship is going to blow. The engines, by the
sound of them, are critically unbalanced, redlining far
off scale. We've got the survivors off her. But we've got
to get her far enough from the station so that when she
goes, she won't take us with her. That's not the only
problem. We've got to be sure she'll break into the
smallest possible fragments and that they are thrown in
a favorable dispersal pattern."

The explosives men grinned at each other. "Easiest
thing in the workl, Simeon," their spokesman said with
a rakish smile. "If you know what you're doing."

"We do," one of the others said, thumping the
spokesman jovially on the back. The man didn't so
much as rock on his toes.

"That's good to know, guys! Can you tug pilots
match their skill by redlining your engines a little to
putt her as far away from us as you can?"

i

"Hell, Simeon," Gus said, "you oughta know we'd
have no trouble doing that little thing for you."

Til be monitqring and should be able to give you
fair warning to get yburselves clear." He paused a
moment, anxious despite their obvious disregard for
the inherent danger^. "Have 1 made the situation
clear?"

Gus grinned. "Couldn't be clearer, station man," he
said, giving his broad shoulders a preparatory twitch in
response to the challenge. "And we don't have much
time for further chatter!"

Another voice broke in: Patsy's. Simeon keyed her
visual transmission to one of the ready-room screens;
she was back in the control seat of her tug.

"My, ain't the machismo level high around here? You
got one tug already in place, Simeon Ñ mine. Count
me in, too."

Gus winced. "Look, Patsy, we're in very deep, ah Ñ"

"Very deep shit," she finished, grinning at him. "Ah
know the words, Gus."

Everybody laughed. Simeon looked them over and
stifled a wave of bitter longing. A military commander of
any stature led his troops from the front, not from an
impervious titanium column. Don't worry, if they fail you'll be
the only one left to say what happened, thanks to thai sametitanium
column. Ifyoucan buewithyowconseience, thatis.

"I'll keep my eye on the coils and give you enough
warning to peel oS," Simeon promised.

Almost simultaneously, helmets covered the faces of
this small band of heroes.

"This is taking more time than it's worth," Channa
said in disgust, giving the control panel a final thump
with her fist. The door valved open,

"Damn! And I thought that was a station legend,"
she said. "Does it work for you, Simeon?"

"Having a servo whack me with a wrench to make

106

Arme McCaffrty & SM. Stating

me work properly?" he asked. "No, not often. The
bridge ought to be right down there. And hurry"

"How are we handling the demolition?" she asked
him, stepping through the half-open door and trotting
down the darkened way, her helmet light fanning
ahead. Mercifully, no bodies floated about this section.

"I've got a team rigging explosives all around the
ship to blow it to," he paused, his own nerves making
him play the down, "smithereens. Real, genuine, non-
station piercing smithereens. It would be disgraceful,
utterly disgraceful, to get holed by flying debris after
surviving this morning, don't you think? Ah, the tug
volunteers are in place, ready to grapple. Ah! They've
broken her out of orbital inertia."

Movement was not obvious this far in the bowels
of the dying ship. "Who's in charge of the team?"
Channa asked.

"Gus."

"Patsy said he was a good pilot," Channa com-
mented. "Soon as I finish here, I'll join her. Is she still
standing by at the hatch?"

"She is, to pick you up and bring you straight back to
the station with any information you discover."

"I can scan the info back to you, Sim-mate, but first I
have to find it, you know.1* She stumbled over some
jumble piled in the corridor and recovered herself.

"You and Patsy getsfra^jAi back here. I can't have my
brawn risking her neck when..."

"Simeon," she said reasonably, "brawns are supposed
to risk their necks far their brains. And if you, the station,
are at risk, / am required to reduce that risk any way pos-
sible. This time I can do it by helping tug the risk away
from here. Have I made myself clear on this point?"

"I don't like it," Simeon said in a disgruntled
mumble. "Foolish risk."

"Thank you for your input, but Simeon..."

"Yeah?"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

107

"Don't you ever try to forbid me to do the job I'm
here to do. You got that?"

"Right in the forehead, sweetheart"

"Not quite where I was aiming, but it'll do," Channa

said.

"If you get thronghte the bridge of that ship, can I
ask you for a download?" Simeon said plaintively.

"Why else1 am I penetrating this about-to-blow-up
wreck?" Channa said. "Patsy, you read me?"

"Welcome to the pahty, Channa," came Patsy's
cheerful wice.

"You don't mind my crashing?"

Patsy laughed. "Watch yoah choice of words, girl."

"I just noticed something," Channa said, slowing her
pace.

"What?"

"Paper. What's all tiuspaper doing around?" There
were sheets of it drifting down the corridor and sticking
with static attraction to the rubbery walls.

"This lumbering hulk must be filled with gear so
ancient it's exotic," Simeon said.

"Paper storage?" she said dubiously.

"Maybe they regressed."

"Could it originally have been piloted by a shellperson?"
Channa asked, suddenly jumping to some conclusions
mat ought to have been more obvious to both herself and
Simeon. Ifshegottheedgeonhimonthisone...

"Highly unlikely," Simeon said patronizingly. "B & B
ships weren't that common then. All of these little back-
of-beyond colonies were literally a shot in the dark, too
risky to expend us on. C'mon, forward is to your right,
one more passage to reach that control room."

"Aye, sir," she said. She worked her way forward,
past leaking pipes and the occasionally sparking con-
trol boxes, ruptured by the overloads of the
catastrophic deceleration.

108

AnruMcCaffrey & SM. Stirting

"Paper," Channa said in wonder, wishing she could
touch the valuable substance with her bare hands.

"And books! At least I think that's what I saw when
you glanced into that corner. Nor further right. Yes!
Books!"

"No time for browsing now," Channa said firmly.

"Right," he said. "Antiquarian refjex, sorry."

"Ah, I am now at the control room," she said.

It was large and circular; most of the consoles were
under shrink-shrouds of plastic that looked rigid with
age. Raw, hasty jury-rigs had restored a few panels to
functionality. She had to duck under festoons of cable
which were draped to and fro with no noticeable pat-
tern. In the dimming light, she saw jury-rigged control
boxes taped to consoles. The whole bridge seemed to
have been reconstructed with mad abandon.

"Ghu! They flew this thing?" Simeon exclaimed.
They must have been crazy, he thought and cocked a
weather-ear to the sound from the engine. "The log,"
Simeon reminded her. "Though I'm inclined to doubt
that this outfit has anything that fancy. Strip the data
bank, too. We want any information we can get,"

"You tell me how to retrieve information from this
archaic mess and you've got it," she answered, peering
from workstation to workstation, trying to figure which
one might access the main banks.

"I've got to go a long way back in my own files to find
something comparable," he said. "There're only three
centuries of buggering-up to decode but... ah, try the
second console to your right. About the only one they
hadn't been trying to use."

She drew the information feedline out of her glove
and pressed it over the inductor surface. The screen
beside it clicked to life and began flowing with a
spaghetti-complex web of symbols.

"Oh, my oh my," Simeon muttered.

"Problems, Sim?"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

109

"Nothing oT Simeon can't handle," he said. "But the
code is old. I don't have anything that esoteric on file.
Nothing I can't eventually decipher."

"Don't let your modesty run away with you," she
muttered, looking down at her wrist chrono. Plenty of
time, she thought ITwpe?

"I'm just cracking the interface and downloading it
to decode at leisure," Simeon replied. "Don't get your
tits in a tizzy."

"What did you say?",

"Old slang," he replied blandly.

"Another antiquarian reflex, no doubt," she said archly.

"Touched Okay, got it," he said, "Get out of there."

"Gawd-dawm this thing!" Patsy said in frustration.

The tug was presenting its broad rear surface to the
ancient colony ship. Channa scanned carefully on
visual and deep-magnetic, looking for a place to
engage their grapple.

"Time is a factor here, Ms. Hap." Gus's voice was a
little testy. Aligning an extra tug in the pattern had
taken more time than anticipated.

"I just got up here, Mr. Gusky. I'm looking for a flat
spot among these struts. I can see why you gave it a
pass. It's a mess. Wait, I think I see something now,
it's..." She looked again and increased the magnifica-
tion. "Bloody helir she cried.

"Crap!" Simeon's voice overrode hers. It took the
others a few moments longer.

"I don't believe it," Channa whispered.

"What?" Patsy demanded. "What do you see?"

"It's a shell. There's a shellperson out there,
strapped to the hull."

"Are you sure?" Gus* voice cut in. "Look, everyone
else is in place, we have to get this thing away from the
stationÑ"

Simeon ordered in a roar that nearly fractured

110

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stilling

eardrums. "BELAY THAT, GUSKY!" A moment of
stunned silence followed. "Check it out, Channa. Now!"

"Aye, aye, sir," Channa said even as she strobed a
landing spot where Patsy could set the tug down. "Yes,
Mr. Gusky, it's a shellperson all .right. Granted, it
doesn't look like anything you're likely to have seen,
but brawns learn to recognize *em.a)L"

She hoped Simeon never had occasion to bellow like
that again, with the decibels going off the gauge.
Understandable, of course, or at least to her. If brains
had a collective nightmare, it was being cut off from
their equipment and left helpless. Attached to their
leads and machinery, a shellperson was the next thing
to immortal, a high-tech demigod in this world. Cut off
from it, they were cripples. Spam-in-a-can, as the
obscene joke had it. Neither Simeon nor she were
capable of abandoning a shellperson, even if its
occupant should prove dead.

"Gus, why don't you set the haul in motion," Channa
said, knowing her priorities had just shifted. "Patsy and
I will get this shellperson off."

She anchored the grapple just above the shell and as
quickly as possible, reeled the tug to it. She studied the
shell in the monitor as she drew closer. "It's inward
feeing, they did that right at least."

"Fardlingr^fo?" Simeon cursed. "Did it right? There
is nothing right about this. What kind of shit-for-brains
did this? That shellperson was lodged on the exterior of
the huU\ Anything could have happened to him or her!
Bastards, bastards, bastards. Get him out of there!"

Channa heard the cold passion in Simeon's voice
and recognized another aspect of him, one his often
diffident manner and sometimes boyish enthusiasms
had masked. Shellpeople were as individual as nor-
mals. Why had she thought him shallow, even trivial?
Because of his fascination with ancient wars and
weaponry?

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

111

"I'm on my way, Simeon," she said. "Gusky, step on
it. We'll get out of your way. This won't take long."

"It had better not," the ex-Navy man said, his voice
still carrying a trace of resentment. "Wilco. Out"

The surge of acceleration was feint but definite as the
bulky vessel began-to idt>ve. Channa locked a safety line
to her suit before s$ie swung down to the pitted, cor-
roded surface of the_hull and began to thread her way
through the crazed jungle of beam-fused girders that
covered it like fungus. The light had the absolute
white-and-shadow of space, but the froth where
vaporized metal had recondensed looked out of place.

Tm too used to things being new and functional, she told
herself at a level below the machine-efficient move-
ments of hands and feet. Fear coiled at a deeper level
still, shouting that she was risking two living humans
for a shellperson who could have died long ago. Brawn
training overrode that trickle of fear almost before she
noticed. A shellperson could not be left, not while a
brawn could remove him.

"Is the brain alraht?" Patsy asked.

"Can't tell yet," Channa told her. Off to her left a white
light flashed and the metal toned beneath her feet-

"What was that?" she half-squawked.

"Iron ore," Gus said. "She's moving into the disper-
sal cone of that load of balled ore. There's a lot of that
crap out here. Hurry."

fm hurrying, Tm hurrying, Channa thought. The shell
was a shape like a metal egg split down the middle, with
a tangle of feed lines and telemetry jacked into opened
access panels. Three more winks of light as ore struck
at hundreds of kps further down the derelict's hull,
then a whole cluster. Debris flipped away into space
with leisurely grace.

"Channa..." Simeon began. Tne rage was out of his
voice, replaced by fear for her. Somehow that wanned
Channa despite the cold clamp she'd put on her feelings.

112

Anne McCaffny &? SM. Stilting

"Can't be helped," she said and planted her own
grapple at the top of the shell, just beside the lugs.

"It's a different design from mine," Simeon told her.
"I'm doing a search now to see where you can put a
heavy magnet without interrupting anything vital."

"Fine," she said distractedly. "Looks like they just
took a dozen loops of wire cable and tack-welded it to
hold the shell down. Talk about improvisation!"

Simeon watched her hands as she used a small laser
to cut through one of the cables lashing the capsule to
the hull. It broke free and the shell fell away from the
hull slightly, fine wires floating like roots in a glass of
water. God, it looks so naked, he thought helplessly.

Channa's gaze had passed over the code name
incised on the shell so he could read it. PMG-266-S, a
low number brain of very advanced years. Guiyon. The
name floated up out of deep storage where all the
names of his kind rested. A managerial sort. Working
for the Colonial Department as it was, back then. Paid
off his contract and dropped out of touch, presumed
rogue. A hermit

"He's a two-hundred series," he told her. "Now put
the grapple dead center, upper side."

Channa used a remote control device to lower one of
the smaller grapples from the tug, gingerly placing it as
directed. Then she returned to cutting cables. She was
working on the next to last one when a pebble-sized
piece of ore struck the back of her helmet, hard
enough to knock her sideways and to burn straight
through her air regulator from left to right. Simeon
saw specks of plastic spin off in the wake of the tiny
meteor. The exterior view from the tug's pickups
showed metal glowing white-hot.

"Channa!" Simeon called. The med-readouts
flashed unconsciousness. He overrode the suit and
ordered it to inject stimulants, a horse-dose, anything
to buy her time.

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

113

"Oww." Channa jerked and then shook herself,
hauling back on the safety line until her feet touched
the surface of the ship. A red light flashed on the inside
of her faceplate and die message:

"System failure Ñ atr-meulation. Ten minutes emergency
supply (m//*appearefi Irwas replaced by 10:00. Then
09:59, and the seconds scrolled down inexorably.

"Channa, you okay? Should Ah git down there?

"No!" Channa rasped. "Keep ready for lift."

Simeon called. "Channa, get inside."

"I'm almost finished," she said gruffly.

"Now," he said.

She ignored him. He watched the cable part, and
her hands reached for the last one. From another view
he watched the ancient colony ship being dragged
away at an ever increasing acceleration.

"Channa! Get your ass in that tug now!"

"ShutÑupr she snapped.

The final cable parted and the shell swung free. For
the first time, Simeon saw that the feeder line was
damaged. No, he thought.

08:38.

Channa began to disconnect the shell's input leads.
It was difficult work in the unwieldy suit gloves, but her
long-fingered hands moved with careful delicacy. She
dosed the valve on the broken feeder line.

"Might not be too bad," she muttered. "There'll be
an interior backup. Probably ruptured when they
stopped."

Then she keyed the remote to reel them both back Co
the tug at a careful pace, holding on to the exterior lugs
and using her feet to fend them off random projec-
tions. The shell went ter-wmnggg against the light-load
grapnels up near the apex of the stubby wedge; the
mechanical daws dosed on the hard alloy with immov-
able pressure.

06:58

114

Anns McCaffrey fcf SM. Stating

She turned and pivoted around a handhold and
dove feetfirst into the control seat.

"Get yo' suit plugged in!" Patsy snapped, beating
Simeon by nanoseconds.

"Can't This is a standard EVA s^jiit, the input valve's
upstream of the break. Get moving, we have to help
haul this thing!"	:..

"Negative," Simeon said. "Make tracks back to the
station, Patsy."

"Negative on that" Channa said. "If we don't get this
hulk far enough away, there won't be a station to go
back to."

Patsy bit her lip and touched the controls. The tug
sprang straight up, the derelict shrinking from sky-
spanning vastness to child's model size in seconds as
the great soft hand of acceleration shoved at them.

"Then you plant that grapnel field," she said
urgendy. "We can help the boost with our own rise. But
when that's done, we're goin' home, girl."

Channa began the adjustments. The tug was
designed for straightforward long slow pulls, not this
redline-everything race against disaster. She must
balance the uneven pull that might shred the tug's
structure and compensate for the hulk's weakness by
intuition as much as anything. Who knew what struc-
tural members had given way within? It would do very
little good to rip a large segment of it loose. ... The
giant ship began to grow slightly smaller.

She glanced at the readout "I hate these clock things,"
she said fiercely. "They must have been created by a
sadist I'mgoingtoAnoa>whenIrunoutofair."

"Stop talking," Simeon ordered, "you're wasting
oxygen. When that clock has flipped over another
thirty seconds,you return to station!"

Gus' command rang through the conversation.
"Synchronize release, slave controls to mine as Patsy cuts
loose"

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

115

Channa keyed it in. "Five seconds. Mark."

Patsy cursed with scatological inventiveness as the lit-
tle craft surged^Then it flipped end-for-end and the
space behind them paled as the drive worked to shed
velocity. They woujd have to kill their delta-V away
from thestatioh before they could return.

"Priority" she barked over the open circuit "Everyone
gitouttamyway.'causelain'tstoppiri!"

Deceleration turned to acceleration again. Channa
wheezed a protest as her ribs clamped down on her
lungs. .

04:11

Simeon's monologue took on a frantic note. He
forced his mind not to calculate times, with an effort
that almost banished fear.

Keep her informed, he thought: "... madness to have
attempted that sort of linkage. The nutrients might
have given out on the trip. It depends on when the
feeder line was damaged. / might be responsible for
that It could have happened when I hit them with the
satellites. What do you think? No, don't answer, save
your air. I know we won't be able to tell anyway until we
examine him.

"What kind of people are these?" he asked for per-
haps the twentieth time. "Could they be pirates who
stole the brain? Then why didn't they bring it inside?
The access-way? Sure, that must be it, they couldn't get
it through the hatch. Still, a shellperson is a valuable
resource. You'd think they try to protect him more if
they had to leave him outside. It could be some kind of
punitive measure by an insane religious sect. Nah,
Central would never assign a brain to a group like that,
it wouldn't make sense." He began to curse again.
"Hey, Channa, stop rolling your eyes like that You're
making me dizzy." The circling increased in tempo.
"Okay, okay, I'll change the subject. Sheesh, take away
a woman's ability to talk..." Channa dosed her eyes. "I

116

Anne McCaflny &f 5M. Stating

was jotting, Channa." Her eyes remained closed.
"You're getting close to the st£tion. You're going to
need to see where you're going. Remember what it's
like out there." No change. "Okay, I apologize. It was a
stupid, ignorant remark and I regret it I didn't even
mean it Bad joke, okay?"

She opened her eyes.

03:0 2

She was midway between the receding colony-ship
and the station.

"I estimate that you'll run out of air three minutes
before you reach the station," Simeon said. "But, if you
take the most direct route, that unfortunately will take
you right through the thickest concentration of spilled
ore."

"Shit!" Patsy hissed. "Tellmesomethin' Ahdon'tknow!"

Channa fought down an oxygen wasting sigh. "Play
safe?"

"Then you'll fall short by four minutes, eight
seconds."

"Play safe. Don't want a shell full a holes."

Simeon was silent for a moment, feeding the pilot
instructions for avoiding the worst of the ore-meteor
cloud.

"You've got more guts than sense, Channa."

Patsy closed one eye and laughed, "Mind now, Ah
didn't say Ah didn't like it, Ah was just remarkin* on it"
She opened her eye. "Y'hold on now, we're goin'
through like a scalded armadillo."

Channa's breathing began to rasp; psychological,
but it wasted air.

Oh, God, don't let her die, he thought. That shelFs hang-
ing out then. Is the mass of the tug enough to shield him from
debris?

Even one pebble of ore at the right angle and all her
sacrifice would be for nothing. Simeon knew Channa
was about to undergo an experience that would feel

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

117

like dying- Humans could survive for several minutes
without air Ñ hours, sometimes, in cold water. The
length of time to brain death was utterly unpredictable
but oxygen deprivation might cause brain damage.

Despite a very real and intense anxiety about Channa,
his thoughts inexor^blyreturned to the shell... to Guiyon.
He's alone m the dark, Simeon said to himself, Channa's got
Patsy, and me: Sensory deprivation would make every
second feel like a subjective hour, and the backups would
keep the shellperson -conscious until the last precious
molecules of nutrient were gone. Simeon wished
desperately that he could spare him the nightmare.

"Headache," Channa gasped. "Hurts." Her head
lolled, would have fallen forward if the savage high-G
acceleration had allowed it

Her breathing was rasping louder now and not
psychosomatic. It was instinct Ñ the hindbrain telling
the lungs that they were suffocating. The readouts
showed an adrenaline surge, just the wrong thing.
Reflexes older than her remote reptile ancestors were
preparing the body to fight free of whatever barred it
from air.

"Hang on, Channa, hang on," Simeon chanted.
Then: "Can't you go any faster'?''

"Not 'lessn you want this here tug smeared all over
the loadin* bay," Patsy said grimly.

"Isn't inertia wonderful?" Gusky muttered to him-
self, looking down again at the readings, fourteen kps
and building. Not very fast, but the battered remnant of
the hulk still massed multiple kilotons.

"Bit of a paradox," one of the volunteer miners said. "I
want this thing as far from the station as I can get itÑbut
I want to be as for away from it as possible myself."

"Ho. Ho. Ho," Gusky said. "Number three, you're a
little off synch. Don't waste our delta-V."

"What's our safety margin, Gus?"

118

Amu McCaffrey fcf SM. Stating

"That depends on when Simeon tells us to cut and
run." fmivaUy, realty sorry Igotyou mad at me, Simeon! "I'd
like to get twenty k&cks from the station before we drop
the thing. But, what can I tell ya? If she blows without
warning, if the explosives don't dojwhat they're sup-
posed to, if we don't get far enough away before she
goes... actually, I don't think we haye a safety margin."

"Sorry I asked."

"Hmph."

Simeon's voice broke in. "Prepare to drop in one
minute seven seconds from mark. Mark, Get it tight, Gus."

"Yeah," said one of the miners who had rigged the
charges, "that thing has to stay in the same attitude.
Charges won't be half as effective if it's tumbling."

"Roger that," Simeonsaid.Notimeforalinkup. They'd
have to listen, reaSy carefully. "Everyone got that mark?"

A chorus of affirmatives. Gusky licked sweat from his
upper lip. He'd never told Simeon, exacdy, but his five-
year hitch in the Navy had been pretty uneventful:
patrols, exercises, showing the flag, mapping expedi-
tions. The most nerve-wracking moments had been the
fleet handball competitions and surprise inspections.

"You pull the trigger, right?" he said.

"You got it, buddy," Simeon replied. His voice had
less timbre, less humanity to it than usual.

"I hate being reassured in a voice that calm."

Fve got other things on my mind. "Channa's suit got hit
She's running out of air."

"Oh." I screwed the pooch again, goddamitt. "Sorry."

"Get ready."

The tugs were arrayed around the great tattered
bulk of the intruder ship like the legs of a starfish,
linked by the invisible bonds of the grapnel fields.
Gusky kept the rear-field screen on at a steady x25
magnification. When the fields released, the image of
the hulk seemed to disappear into a point-source of
light in less than a heartbeat Vision went gray at the

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

119

edges, before the engines cycled down to something
bearable. Tugs necessarily had high power-to-weight
ratios. Then the shrinking dot of the derelict blinked
with colorless fire.

Gusky cycled the screen to higher magnification.
"Phew," ne said gustily. The charges had cut the
remaining forward section loose from the half-melted
engine compartment and its core. Joined to the power
module, whatever parts of the ship did not vaporize
would be hyper-velocity shrapnel in all directions.
With a Idick-or so distance and a vector away from the
station, much less could go wrong. Blast is less
dangerous without an atmosphere to propagate in.
There is nothing to carry the shock wave except the
actual gases of the explosion and they disperse rapidly.
Given minimal luck, the explosion would just kick
what was left of the hulk further away.

"When will itÑ"

The screen blanked protectively. So did his faceplate
and the forward ports of the tug's cabin. Beside him the
copilot flung his hand up in useless reflex. Even from
the rear, the intensity of light was overwhelming.

"Did it work?" Gusky called as visibility returned. That
was not as reassuring as it could have been. Half the sen-
sors and telltales on the board were blinking red.

"Sorry." This time Simeon did sound sorry. "That
ship ... the engines were so old, the parameters were
different... There's a lot more secondary radiation
and subflux than I thought there would be."

"Thanks," Gusky said facetiously. "All right,
people, report."

"I've got a flux in my drive cores I can't damp," one
of the volunteers said immediately. "Induction, I guess.
Getting worse.**

"Let me see it," Gusky said, surprised at his own
calm. This was much better than waiting; there wasn't
time to be worried. "All right, you've got a feedback loop

i20

ArtruMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

there and it's past redline. Set your controls for maxi-
mum acceleration at ninety degrees to the ecliptic with
a one-minute delay, then bail out"

"Hey, this is my tugf the volunteer wailed.

"It's going to be your ball of incandescent gas in
about ten minutes," Gusky said grimly. "Or hot gas that
includes you. Take your pick."

Simeon cut in. "Station will pick up full replace-
ment costs."

"Lobachevsy and Wong, you're closest," Gusky said,
**pick 'em up!" Gusky's pickups showed the luckless
volunteers jetting away on backpack and their craft
streaking for deep space on autopilot. "The rest of you,
dump me some data."

"Yessir, Admiral," one replied dryly.

The information dutifully came in. "Okay,
Lobachevsky, Wong, you look functional, sort of. Take
the others with overstrained drives in tow, and well go
back nice and slow and easy." With several mitticms'worth
of tug that just became so much scrap. Suddenly boring routine
becomes very attractive as a way of life. War games are excite-
ment enough.

He touched the control surfaces to establish a tight
fine circuit to the station. "Simeon, what about us?"

"Let's put it this way, Gus. None of you are going to
die. But some of you aren't going to be very happy for a
while, either. Sickbay will be crowded." A long pause.
"Congratulations."

Gus grinned; half of that was relief from raw fear.
Everyone who lives in space is afraid of decompression,
which is why many become agoraphobic planetside.
Those who do much EVA work or serve on warships
develop a similar fear of radiation, which has the added
terror of killing insidiously. On the other hand, most
dangers in spaceeitherkilldeanly or letlive.

"You're welcome," the big man continued. "What
about Channa?"

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

121

Patsy's voice joined in. "She's gonna be fahn. Hey,
Gus," she went on lazily, "you thaink people will
respect us for this?"

Gusky keyed for the visuals. He got a double view, over-
head from the docking chamber where the tug rested in
its cradle and frSm the Chicle itself. Both showed Channa
Hap being carried offin a floating stretcher.

"Phew. Glad she made it okay."

"Yayuh, mah sentiments exactly. Got a good one

thar."

Gusky nodded. On station, Channa acted like a cryonic
bitch, he thought, but she's there when it comes down to cases.
This was the worst emergency SSS-900 had faced in the
time he'd been here. SSS-900-C, he reminded himself.

"I dunno," he said, *7 never respected anyone who
led from the rear."

She laughed. "Hey! This might get us a nice rest
cure somewhar pretty. We could go tagetha." She
made the last a question.

"If any two parts of us are still stuck together when
this is over, Patsy, you got a date."

"Unh-hunh!" she said enthusiastically.

Hey, first base! Gusky thought After thirty months of
ritualized sparring so routine it had gotten to be as
comfortably low-key as playing war games with
Simeon. That is, ifTm not sick as a puke once sickbay gets
through with me. Doctor Chaundra believed in repairing
you rapidly. In some circles he was known as "Kill or
Cure Chaundra."

"I need a drink," he said solemnly.

"Ah'U buy," Patsy said.

a CHAPTER SE^EN

Channa woke to an excruciating, high pitched
wailing.

The engines! she thought fin still on the derelict! Fve get
to get out of here!

She lifted her head with a gasp and laid it back down
again with a heartfelt groan. This has to be a fatal
headache, she thought, nobody could feel lake this and live.

The ceiling overhead was a soothing pale blue as
were the privacy screens around her. There was a vase
of flowers on the bedside table and a bank of portable
equipment on the other side, quiedy talking to itself
and occasionally waving a sensor probe over her body.
A suit of working clothes, overtights and jacket and
belt, were draped on a clothes stand at the foot of the
bed. The air had a slight, pleasant scent of cedar.

Sickbay, she thought The ambience was unmistakable.

The wailing went on and on, sometimes breaking
into sharp yelps. / hope I Hve long enough to kill whoever is
making that racket.

"Who is that?" she finally demanded.

"Ah, Channa," said Simeon in a voice as soft as rain
water.

Channa sighed and closed her eyes again. It was
restful, and her body was beginning to accept that she
was alive and in no clanger. Which was a difficult thing,
if you'd gone under deeply concerned about your
chances of ever waking up again.

"Welcome back to the living," said a flatter voice with a
tilting singsongaccent There was a sound of movement

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

123

She opened her eyes to see Doctor Chaundra lean-
ing over her. He had his professional expression on; a
sort of antiseptic smile, nothing like the genuine
enthusiasm he showed in a social situation talking
about his specialty. C^anna managed the complex pro-
cedure of smiling and Minting simultaneously.

"My head," she said in a croaking voice, feebly rais-
ing a shakingitand to rub her brow.

"Got just die thing," he said. He touched the angle of
her throat with an injector. It hissed and she felt a touch
of cold. . '

Almost instantly, the pain boring its way into her
brain began to fade. "Oh, Ghu! that's better." She
licked dry lips.

"No, I have merely blocked the pain," the doctor said
pedantically. "The organic damage is minimal but will
take several days to heal."

"Thirsty?" She raised her brows in pathetic query.

Chaundra poured a glass of water from a bedside
carafe, put in a straw and handed it to her.

She sucked greedily on the straw, mindful of her head
position, and handed him the empty glass. "More," she
demanded. He refilled it, and she drained it again almost
as soon as he handed it to her. The wailer took offagain.
Channa frowned. "Who's thatbadly hurt?**

He grimaced. "She's one of the people we evacuated
from the ship; the first one awake. We don't know who
she is. She's done nothing but shriek since she woke
up. To answer your other question, no, she's not badly
hurt She's dehydrated, and probably has a headache
like yours from that, and she had a bloody nose from
the abrupt deceleration."

There was an especially violent shriek and the sound
of something metal tipping over and of things scatter-
ing. Voices murmured soothing words in edged tones.

"If she can scream like that with a headache like the
one I woke up with, she's crazy," Channa said.

124

AtmeMcCaffrey &SM. Stating

Chaundra nodded. "That, too, is a possibility, but I
feel that she is presently venting hysteria as a
by-product of coldsleep." He sighed. "The earliest
methods sometimes had the effect of suppressing basic
inhibition."

"Can't you give her something?" Simeon asked from
a wall mike. "That sound has just gone from pathetic to
seriously annoying."

"No," the medical chief replied. "Or rather, I'd
prefer not to immediately. They drugged themselves
rather heavily, indeed, presumably to keep their
oxygen consumption down. I've no idea for how long a
period of time, but from their physical condition, it
must have been too long." He gave another of his
sighs. "I'd really rather not put anything else into her
system. Especially since many of the substances they
used seem to have been past recommended shelf life,
or discontinued types, or both."

"They say that if someone gets hysterical, a simple
slap across Ñ " Simeon began.

Chaundra interrupted him. "I am thinking that has
more to do with relieving the frustration of the listeners
than the distress of the patient," he said with a resigned
smile.

"You're a saint, Doctor," Channa told him. Actually
she knew that he was a pacifist widower with a passion
for surgery, but no matter. "But I'm not So, before I'm
compelled to go over there and knock the little git
through the wall, I'd like to get out of here."

He smiled and touched the machine. It waved more
probes over her, prodding in two or three sensitive
places. The readouts had him nodding almost at once.
"Yes, you can be going now."

She stood with a satisfied sigh. "Um, is there anyone
coherent awake yet?"

"Yes, a young man. He's still more than a bit groggy,
so we haven't let him up yet He wants to help this girl."

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

125

"Can't you put him on a pallet or in a chair and push
him over there?" Simeon asked. "It might help both of

them."

"Depends," Chaundra said, "on how he's doing."

¥Just seeing him might help her," Channa suggested.

"Worth-a try* Chaufcdra shrugged and grabbed a
float chair from a cluster of them by the door. "Over
here," he said andjCfhanna followed, pulling on a
dressing gown.

The man in question was the beautiful lad she her-
self had packed lip. Simeon watched Channa's pupils
enlarge and decided that she was probably responding
even more enthusiastically than she had on die ship.
Pheromanes, he told himself wisely. And fewer distractions.

The young man had raised himself up on one elbow,
a slight sweat glistening on his shapely brow. He looked
at them with distress in his light blue eyes.

"Please, let me go to her," he pleaded. His accent was
exquisite, his voice a light baritone. The language was
recognizable Standard, although the vowels had an
archaic tonality.

From the look on her face, Simeon decided that
Channa would have taken him to hell if he wanted to
go. Simeon wanted him off the station.

Guys like him cause more trouble than beautiful females,
Simeon thought. On the other hand, if he can shut that
screamer up, fllput him on the payroll.

Channa and Chaundra helped the Adonis into the
chair and pushed him over to the pallet where the
young woman lay. He reached out for her hand and
began stroking it

She had waist-length dark hair and a pale, bony face
with plain features and high cheekbones. Long, gold-
lashed eyes of a dark blue that was almost black stared
at him, her screeches cut off for a blissful moment of
silence. Then the whites showed all round the iris of
her eyes, and before Channa or Chaundra could stop

126

Anru McCaflny fc? SM. Stirling

her, she had grabbed the carafe from the table beside
her and was swinging it at him.

"You did this! You could have killed me! 1'almost diedr

The metal carafe connected witfc his temple in a sick-
ening smack. The young man slid|x>nelessly from the
chair while, not content with the damage she'd just
inflicted, the girl strove to climb over the safety railings
on the side of her pallet, shrieking'that it was his fault,
all his fault. Then she began to sob with equal vigor.
"My love, my love, what have they done to you?"

Chaundra's interns and head nurse leaped for the pal-
let in well-choreographed unison. This infirmary saw a
lot of visiting miners, still high on various recreational
chemicals, not to mention plain old-fashioned ethanol, so
they knew what to do. One pinned her arms and another
slapped an injector on the nearest portion of her flailing
body. Instantly she slumped into unconsciousness.

"Doctor," Simeon said firmly, "put that girl in
restraints until she returns to rationality. She can blame
me for this one."

"You have it," Chaundra said. The nurses buckled
the unconscious woman onto her pallet but were too
professional to show the slightest trace of vindictiveness
as they tightened the straps. Chaundra bent over the
unconscious man.

"Glancing blow after all," he said, pulling up one
eyelid. "Should regain consciousness soon."

"I'll be in my quarters, Doctor," Channa said, and
gathering up her clothing, walked wearily to an
elevator. She entered and leaned against a wall, dosing
her eyes.

"You okay?" Simeon asked anxiously.

She smiled. "I'm very okay, thank you." She opened
her eyes and straightened, rolling her shoulders to
loosen the kinks. "I'm still thirsty," she said, "and hungry,
and alive." Then she widened her eyes in dismay. "How
could I forget? The brain, did he make it?"

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

127

Simeon paused. "No."

Channa slumped and covered her face with her
hands. She looked up, her lips pressed tightly together
for the rest of the ascent. Then she asked quietly, "Have
you had a chance to find out anything about our sur-
vivors?" -	~ *

"Not as much as I'd hoped to, but 1 did find out
something ahout the shellperson. He was Planetary
Manager Guiyon. Last assigned to a colony planet
called Bethel, orbiting the sun GK.728, known locally
as Saffron. Ijnfdrmed Central Worlds of his... death:
beyond the call of duty, I'd say. They told me what they
had on record. After his original contract ended, he just
stayed on, apparently for no other reason than he liked
Saffron's pretty yellow color.

"Bethel's seemingly just an undistinguished colony
of no great population, located a little off the beaten
path, more than a bit xenophobic in their attitudes.
They won't trade with nonhumans, for example. It was
established about three hundred years ago by a 'tightly
knit, religiously oriented group.' Hmmm." Simeon
paused. "In three hundred years, a religion could
develop any number of nasty kinks. The refugees may
have been cast out. They may have left voluntarily to
establish another base for their sect I don't have that
information." He continued softly. "Guiyon must have
been there a long, long time. A long time and a long
way to die like that, alone in the dark."

His final words were said in the merest whisper and
Channa felt tears pricking at her eyes. It was fitting for
a brawn to mourn a brain. She let her tears fall. She
could. Simeon couldn't.

She left the elevator and entered the lounge, dropping
weakly into the nearest comfortable chair. She leaned her
head back and dosed her eyes, letting the tears fell. For a
long time she and Simeon observed silence.

"What about the data we got from the bridge?" she

128

Anne McCaffiiy &? SM. SfxrOng

said at last, wiping her eyes again with the back of her
hand. "Was it blank?"

"I, uh, can't read it," Simeon said. Under the grief;
embarrassment tinged his voice. "The codes are
ancient. In fact, it may not be a code, it may be a lan-
guage. One I don't have on record, which means it
must have been extinct before spaceflight and in
limited use even then."

Channa began to laugh, suppressing it with effort
before it took her over. She stifled it with a groan. "I'm
almost afraid to ask this but.. .** and she found herself
glancing at his column for reassurance. "What's the
report on the people we rescued? Besides the screamer."

"Forty of the fifty we found survived to reach the
station."

"Oh, Gnu!" she said and sat forward, her arms
crossed on her knees, her forehead resting on them.
"We didn't have time to count the dead, did we? Damn!
We could at least have done that!" She sat back again
and looked around the room bitterly, as though resent-
ing its comfortable, unchanged appearance.

"I know," Simeon told her. "I feel that I've foiled."

"You aren't the only one," she said, and sobbed once.
She placed her hand over her mouth, pressing hard, to
stifle any others that might follow. After a moment she
spoke again in a thick voice. "And the station?"

"That came out all right," he said, and gave her a
report long enough for her to regain control: good news
in the fortunate lack of injury to station personnel, lack of
any real structural damage to the station or traffic, with
the notable exception of the ore carrier. He reported that
incoming ships were huddled on the for side of the sta-
tion Ñjust in case Ñ and ended with an invitation to the
party being thrown by the tug pilot volunteers for
anyone who wanted to come. By the time he was
finished, Channa was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"I never thought I'd see the day when I was too

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

129

drained to debauch," she said in a hoarse voice. "I must
be getting old."

"Cut yourself some slack, kid," Simeon said, revert-
ing to his juvenile affectation. "You did actually die.
Subjectively, I mean. I think it's a bit much to expect to
be in a partying1 mt>oa4wo hours after being brought
back to life. Remember, the slogan is 'eat, drink and be
merry for tontqrroui we may die.' So you're covered."

Channa managed a weak grin.

/oofo exactly t%e she feels. "How would it be if I sent some-
thing down inyour name, champagne or something?"

"Perfect," she said weakly, but with feeling.

"And you must eat something. Doc Chaundra said
you'd feel better for it. It'll stave off a return of the
headache."

"I'm for that" She rose, reeling slightly on her way
to the small galley to find whatever was easiest to
prepare. She was staring into a cupboard, not even
registering what she was looking at, when the door to
the lounge swooshed open. She stumbled out to see
who it was and arrived in time to see Mart'an, himself,
and a bevy of waiters sweep into the main lounge.

"Ah, my dear and valiant mademoiselle!" He
snapped his heels together and bowed crisply from the
waist. "I salute you. We of the Perimeter Restauran*
would like to thank you for your extraordinary bravery
which has saved the station." His arm swept out grace-
fully, indicating the serving trolley. "A mere token of
our esteem, I know, but we put our hearts into every-
thing that we prepare, and this evening, I think that we
have even surpassed ourselves. As our gratitude is sur-
passing." He bowed again, a more modest version,
with his right hand spread across his heart.

Channa smiled stupidly at him for a moment until
she could gather enough of her wits together to tell
him that he was very kind.

130

Anrtf McCaffny fe? SM. Stirling

He offered her his arm and led her to a chair.
Instantly his cohorts flowed into action. A table was
brought, a cloth spread, service laid, wine poured,
napkin spread and food appeared on her plate. The
arrangement alone was a work, of art. Simeon
recognized actual Terran truffles decorating the
appetizer and the entree was no le$s than carre d'agneau
Mistral. A file said the recipe was by Escoffier, Mart'an's
boyhood hero.

/ bet they'd chew it for her if she asked them to, Simeon
thought, amused.

"Ah, Monsieur Simeon." Mart'an exhaled a tragic
sigh, his face wearing the blank expression softshells
adopted when addressing someone unseen. "How we
wish we could offer a similar tribute to you."

Simeon put his likeness up on his column-screen,
made it smile appreciatively and bow slighdy. "By com-
ing to the aid of my brawn in this manner, monsieur,
you are serving both myself and the station superbly. I
cannot begin to express my appreciation."

Channa's eyes widened; her mouth, however, was
fully occupied.

Ha! he thought, triumphandy. Didn't think I had it in
me, didja, Happy? Diplomacy 'R Us.

"I wonder," he said confidentially to Mart'an, "if it
would be possible for you to clear away at a later time?
Ms. Hap is extremely weary and I need to bring her up
to speed on station business before she retires...."

"Of, course," Mart'an said heartily. With a flutter of
his hands, he gathered his magic minions together and
the whole group departed as smoothly as they had
arrived.

Channa sipped her wine with an appreciative glow
on her face.

"Go easy on that," he cautioned her. "I know you're
thirsty, but water would be a better choice."

"Yes, Dad." She picked up her fork and began eating

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

131

again, chewing appreciatively. "Too bad you can't taste
foods, but I assure you this lamb is deeelicious." She
rolled her eyes. "Sq, bring me up to speed. What else is
there to crown today's glad tidings?"

"Nothing more really," he said, "except that the
computer has finally regurgitated a translation pro-
gram for me. The language was extinct Ñ Chuvash,
whatever that is. TheAI worked back from loanwords
of known languages, but it's warning me that there are
gaps in vocabulary and most certainly in shades of
meaning...",

"What does Central Worlds say about this disaster?"
She yawned deeply. "Or don't we have enough comsat
capability left?"

"I gave them an outline of events and the reap-
pearance of... Guiyon. They were more concerned
that I was still operational. Which I am. They expect a
full report, of course, but I'm hoping to include more
information about the ship. They can wait. They've the
bones of the matter."

"Any news on Joat?"

"Nothing specific," he said with a sigh. "With
everyone suited up, it was impossible to tell who was
who. Not all suits have nametags and skill-codes. I
haven't heard a sound from the engineering section."

"Well, I want to be sure she's all right," Channa said,
exploding in angry anxiety. "You open up a channel
down there and tell her that we need to know if she
made it. One lousy 'yes, I did' will be sufficient." She
picked up her fork again but was merely pushing food
around the plate, her expression almost sulky.

Simeon regarded her with a mildly exasperated
mental smile. When she was tired, Channa was amaz-
ingly like Joat. Sending the necessary discreet query, he
was also relieved to have received a prompt reply,
though he puzzled over Joat's odd undertone.

"She made it. I told her one word would do it, and

132

Anne McCaffag &? SM. Stating

she gave me two. Quote, I'm okay, end-quote. You
should try to get some rest, Channa." A pause. "No
wait a minute. She's adding something. Oh, really?
Quote, Tell Channa she did a neatojob. *

Unutterably relieved, Chanha pushed the table
aside. Somehow, knowing that Joat was safe released
the tension that had kept her going so long. Like a
robot, she moved toward her quarters, made it to the
door before she stopped, holding onto the frame.

"Simeon," she said, looking over her shoulder at his
column, her head of its own accord resting against the
cool metal panel, "I am your brawn, remember. You are
required to inform me of any untoward incident. Yes?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said meekly.

She nodded sharply: a "you'd better" gesture, and
entered her quarters. The bed beckoned irresistibly;
she had a dreamlike memory of fumbling with the sick-
bay wrapper and crawling onto the bed, of a servo
pulling the covers up around her. Soft music hummed
her to sleep.

"Good morning," Simeon greeted her the next day.
"You look rested," he said. Fm learning, he congratu-
lated himself, / didn't say, you looked like hett on a rampage
last night, or even, you look a lot better. I'm acquiring sen-
sitivity, he thought smugly, suppressing the thought
that she had made him so. Hope it doesn't wreck my style.

"I feel rested, too," she said in some surprise. "After
yesterday, I'm surprised I woke up today. You didn't,"
and her tone became suspicious, "let me oversleep?"

The essential Channa has not altered overnight! "Nothing
new to report I'm still parsing through the language,
but it's odds on we'll get more out of the passengers
than the logs."

"How are they? Anybody else awake yet?"

"Doctor Chaundra says that poor bastard the
screeching Valkyrie cold-cocked is their leader, name of

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

133

j(\Jnos ben Sierra Nueva. The valkyrie is Rachel bint
Damscus. I knew you'd like to put names to the face...
es(" he added hurriedly, not wishing to single the man
out for her attention in any way. "The doc says he'll be
able to join us at the meeting."

"Whoelse?"-   - * t,

"Leader Amos ahd his sidekick, a guy called Joseph
ben Said." ¥	_-'

Channa took a sip of the coffee she'd made. "When
are they due here?"

"We've a station ofncers meeting in about an hour.
Chaundra, too, if someone's not critical. Whenever
we've finished that, I'll call down for Sierra Nueva and
this Joseph fellow."

"Do me a favor," Channa said, "call him Amos,
would you please? Sierra Nueva makes him sound like
one of those dances that are supposed to make your
blood boil and your libido unhinge."

"You got it. We don't want forbidden passions run-
ning riot all over the station, now do we?"

"Well," she said with a grin, wiggling her eyebrows
suggestively, "that part's negotiable."

Well, well, Channa ma belle, nothing like dying to loosen a
person up, eh? Let's hope the "mellow" lasts a while inyou.

He noticed a visitor in the corridor and opened the door
before the boy outside could ring for admittance: a tall thin
twelve-year-old, dark and slender of face but with green
eyes and a reddish tint to his brown hair. The boy stood
there a moment startled, his mouth a perfect O.

"Come on in," Simeon invited. Channa looked up
from her notescreen and reinforced the welcome.

"Uh, hi," the kid said nervously. Simeon noted that
he walked with a cane. "I'm Seld Chaundra? I'm in
Joat's class?"

"Oh, really?" Simeon said helpfully.

"Yeah." Seld's free hand bunched the material of his
trouser leg. "Um, is she here?"

134

Anne McCaffrey fcf 5M. Stating

"Not at the moment," Channa told him, resting her
chin on her fist "We'll give her a message," and Chan-
na added a mental/tkmk. MIs there a problem?"

"Oh, no," he shook his head in wide-eyed denial. "It's
just... Well, she wasn't in class today and I was worried
that she might of got hurt or something yesterday.**

"That's very kind of you," Channa said approvingly
"But she came through.., okay!" ''

"We'll tell her that you were asking about her, Seld,"
Simeon told him.

"Will she be in school tomorrow?"

"Quite possibly," Simeon said mendaciously. "I'll let
her know you were asking for her and tell her to con-
tact you. Does she have your call code?"

"Yes, sir, she does, sir." Like all station-born
youngsters, Seld was not unaccustomed to Simeon
speaking from the nearest sound cube, but he had the
good manners to bow to the column. "Sorry to have
bothered you." He waved at Channa and stepped back
through the door.

"Welir Channa said, pleased. "She has a peer who
cares enough about her well-being to beard you in
your lair."

"You think that's enough to entice her back out?"

Channa deliberated. "I think it will certainly alter
her thinking. When you're sure no one cares about
you, it's easy to be depressed and feel hopeless. Go on,"
she said with an encouraging smile at his column, "tell
her Seld was here, worried she might have been hurt,
and looking for her in class."

"Yeah, he's okayÑSeld is, sort of," Joat said. "Bit of a
kid,y'know?"

"Chronologically speaking," Simeon remarked
blandly, "you're a kid yourself."

Joat laughed with more than a trace of bitterness; it
was a sound like a yelping coyote. "Never had the time

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

135

or chance to be one. So it's a little late, like, to expect me
to act like one."

Silence fell in the improvised nest at the intersection
of the ducts, butthe girl heard just the softest sigh of
regret issue from Simeon.

Softie, sbe thought,>fith a rueful affection. Even if he
was ... what was tike jingle? Spam-in-a-can? Nice guy,
she decided. He need&someone to look after him. Besides
Channa Hap, that was. Channa might be his brawn,
but she seemed to have looked after everyone else
yesterday instead of him.

"Yeah, Seld's not a bad osco. Sorta knows his way
around a keyboard, in a kid sorta way. Can't fight worth
shit, though."

"He says they miss you at school," Simeon replied
noncommittally.

Joat gave a second bark of sour laughter. "Not that
bitchite Louise Koprekni, she doesn't"

"Pushing her face in the toilet bowl was a bit
extreme, wasn't it, Joat?"

"She said I smelled."

"You did smell. Then! That's about the time you con-
sidered regular washing wasn't such a bizarre notion."

Joat's lower lip stuck out, and she turned back to her
keyboard and the collection of miscellaneous electronic
junk which Simeon had been trying to identify.

"What's that you're contrapting?" Simeon asked.

"Riffler."

"Dare I ask what a riffler is?" Do 7 want to know?

"Ultrasonic. Pops the caps." M Simeon's interroga-
tive sound, she explained. "Bursts the capillaries, like,
you know, instant really, really bad sunburn?"

"It what?" Then he modified his tone to a more
conversational level. "We hadn't planned on dragging
you out, you know."

"I didn't figure you would.*1

"You haven't... ah... tried it out, have you?"

136	Amu McCaffny&SM. Stating

"Not yet."

"How will you know it works?"

"It will!" Hie confidence in that reply was unnerving.

"Wouldn't kill anyone, but it'll sure make 'em think
twice about following me."	¥*

"Ah, I see."

His visual picked up just the hint of a grin as Joat
bent her head to continue her handiwork.

"Some things," she said cryptically.

Silence fell again. Conversations with Joat reminded
Simeon of documentaries he had seen of catching trout
by hand. You had to be very patient to succeed.

"Looks like trouble coming," she said neutrally.

"Trouble's over," Simeon said. "Look, Joat, I do
apologize for not checking on you during the alert, but ..."

"No need. You gave me a suit, remember. That was
all I needed," Joat pointed out reasonably. "Something
threatens you, the station, we're all in deep kimchee.
Right? Much better you spent your time keeping us
from getting in so deep we have to shovel our way out."

"You've an extremely realistic attitude, Joat,"
Simeon said, with a certain tone of admiration for the
independence in her that also worried him.

"I'm no sap," Joat announced with satisfaction.
"Troubles don't come by ones and twos, either Ñ you get
'em by kilobyte loads, fll be ready. " She patted the riffler.

*Tm sure you will," Simeon replied soothingly.

"Yuh. See you at dinner."

"At dinner?" He sounded surprised but that pleased
her. "Umm, yes, see you then," he added, doing a good
job of sounding casual.

Joat whistled soundlessly to herself as she felt
Simeon's attention withdraw Ñ most of it, at least She
also switched on the white-noise maker and the
scrambler she'd rigged up . She was no longer complete^

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

137

sure they worked, Simeon having had enough of a look
at her contrivances to perhaps neutralize them. Not
that he'd have had time to bother about her with so
much else on his'mind these days. Even a brain had
some limitations.

She didn't want an ai^Iience while she reran the stuff
she'd recorded dfiring Channa's exploits on the
intruder ship. First she screened something that had
come in on the Central datablip just today. The
watchman program Joat set up had cut it out and
routed it^to her system automatically.

Stretching luxuriously, she popped the tab on a can of
near-beer. She stayed away from the real thing because it
made her feel loggy and squiff. She bit a big hunk off a
chocolate nut bar, grinning around the mouthful with
vindictive delight as the scene played on.

A crowd surrounded the obviously official building
and their chant ran shrill and menacing as they waved
their placards which bore the same message they
chanted.

"Dorgan the bigot! Dorgan out! Dorgan the bigot! Dargan
out!"

The ground-floor windows have been shattered and
a line of riot-armed police were holding the SPRIM
demonstrators at bay The visual shifted to an interior
room where Ms. Dorgan of the Child Welfare depart-
ment, looking rumpled and alarmed, was gesticulating
wildly.

"And I categorically deny saying that shellpeople are
unnatural abominations with no right to live!" she
wailed. "Or that they make me want to puke!"

Joat grinned. She wanted to be a systems engineer
when she grew up Ñ or maybe even a brawn Ñ but
editing was a nice hobby. Editing transmissions of
recorded conversations sent to SPRIM and MM, for
example. Channa had the right idea, but adults had no
enthusiasm for taking an idea and running with it

138

Amu McCaffrey fc? SJVf. Stating

"Like the teacher said," she muttered, taking
another mouthful. "I gotta lot of buried hostility I got
to learn to express."

"I felt a good deal like screaming myself" Joseph said.

Amos sighed and lowered himself fnto a chair. Once
Joseph insisted, the doctor here Ñ a man, oddly
enough Ñ had moved him into a small suite, with a
private sitting room.

Apparently private, he reminded himself, though
there might well be listening devices. Otherwise, it had
the common strangeness of everything here, like soft
synthetics for the walls which could alter shade or sud-
denly turn themselves into view screens. He had
commanded that the space-scene transform itself into
something more restful, and the holograph had
turned to a neutral brown solidity. In its way, that made
him uneasy too. What appeared to be plain bare plastic
was obviously anything but.

"It is difficult to beUeve that we are safe," he said,
rubbing a hand over his face, which had grown
enough beard to rasp. He resolved to ask for a some, or
the local equivalent "To be frank, my brother, I never
expected to wake again."

"Neither did I," Joseph said, prowling with slow rest-
lessness. The gravity was slightly higher than Bethel,
just enough to be noticeable. "But we do not know that
we are safe Ñ even from the Kolnari."

Amos looked up sharply. "We do not?"

"The shell Ñ Guiyon," Joseph amended, at Amos'
frown "Ñ said that it Ñ"

"He." Amos compressed his lips firmly after that cor-
rection; the more so since he himself had never felt
entirely easy with Guiyon.

Guiyon saved us, he remembered. More than that.
Guiyon had been the first to listen to his youthful
doubts without recoiling in horror and ordering him to

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

139

do penance. Only families descended from the
prophet were allowed speech with the Planetary
Manager. Most Bethelites thought that entity was at
best legend, at worst an abomination of the infidel. lam
too old to befeve in nursery tales, Amos thought. He was a
nian now, with many dejpending on him.

"He," Joseph sai4, making a soothing gesture with
both hands, "He intended to take us to Rigel base. This
is not Rigel."

"No," Amos conceded. "SSS-900-C. Although they
seem reluctant to tell us more."

"Understandable, sir. Would you immediately trust
fugitives who came so close to destroying them, though
we knew it not? However, there are things they cannot
help but tell us."

"Yes," Amos said slowly. "For one, that this is no

military base."

"Just so, my brother. These are a peaceful people." At
Amos' dubious look, he went on. "I was raised dockside,
you will remember. I know more of traders and trading
than most. These are respectable merchants and
spacefarers, by their own ethics, if not by Bethel customs.
Dockside, we would have called them easy marks."

They looked at each other, haunted by what neither
would mention first. Amos took hold of himself. A
respectable, an ethical people deserved the truth.

"And we cannot know if the Kolnari still pursue,"
Amos whispered. Sickness tugged at the pit of his
stomach. To achieve safety, even for so few, and jeopardize m
turn their saviors. "We must talk to them!"

CHAPTER EIGHT

"All things considered, we didn't come out of the day
too badly at all," Chief Administrator Ciaren said, once
more running his stylus down his notescreen to be sure
he'd missed nothing.

Ducking her head, Channa managed to hide a
yawn. Meetings were meat and drink to Ciaren. When
he had the opportunity to trot out his careful graphs
and statistics for an audience, he positively glowed and
inflated. Uke a plain giri mho's just been asked to dance by a
high-school hero, she thought mordandy.

"We're down about three million credits," she
pointed out, reaching for the water carafe.

Two section chiefs sprang to fill the glass for her:
feme was already a bit wearing. The meeting was sup-
posed to have started as a working breakfast. Plates and
crumbs were scattered around the table. Gusky was
there too, looking a little pale Ñ either from the
medications, or from the party. Not only was he
prominent in his own business, he was a section repre-
sentative and, with the recent favorable publicity,
looked likely to be re-elected.

Patsy was filing a fingernail. "Somebody has ta pony
up the expenses," she pointed out. "Per example, we
commandeered equipment from Namakuri-Singh Ñ
who arh not known to be a charitable organization."

Gusky grunted, "/commandeered the equipment
which will have to be replaced, which you, Simeon,
authorized me to use."

"Not me personally. The station!" Simeon said

THE CFTY WHO FOUGHT

141

sharply. Brains tended to be sensitive about personal
debt, having had to pay off such a whacking great
amount for their early care and education. "No one
could say that I didn't do everything possible to mini-
mize damage.

Loss of the tngs-wa$unavoidable and the station is
morally obligated tfc compensate their owners for the
loss. Which; Ciaren,' we will recoup from Lloyd's,
invoking the force majeur clause."

"Yes, yes, of course, it will," Ciaren muttered,
making a quick notation.

"The other unavoidable losses and damages which
we've discussed today are going to wipe out the contin-
gency fund."

"It will?" Gus asked unhappy.

"Yes, it will," Ciaren agreed in a lugubrious tone of

voice.

"In a good cause," Simeon said briskly.

"On this Lloyd's claim," Gus went on, "well be deal-
ing with bureaucrats, bureaucratic accountants at that
Government bureaucratic accountants, with lawyers in
tow."

"The withered hand on the controls," Simeon
intoned.

"We could just rely on their decency, good nature
and inherent generosity," Gus suggested. Even Ciaren
laughed at that

Channa shuddered. "So we should be prepared for
accusations of mismanagement and hand-wringing over
the cost of every rivet, bolt and coupling." She affected a
nasal tone. "Didn't you realize that seventeen-point-
three seconds boost would have done just as well as
seventeen-point-seven?"

Chief Administrator Ciaren assured them that his
entries would be meticulously checked, all forms would
be properly made out, filed on time and to the proper
bureaus.

142

Anw McCaffrey &? 5M. Stating

"I won't go so for as to guarantee prompt or even
early payment," he said, allowing himself a very small
smile, "given that we'll be dealing with departments
over which I have no control. But, I can promise you
that I will do my best, and that is very good indeed."

There was a rumble of agreement

"At least we," Channa said firmly, "can authorize
immediate release of the contingency fund to private
persons who suffered damage and loss, or have to
make repairs germane to station functions. Claren, just
get the claims into the insurance companies as soon as
you can."

"Good luck," said the owner of a minerals company in
a wry tone. "I've noticed they're always more enthusiastic
about collecting premiums than paying claims."

That brought another chuckle. Channa turned to
the pillar and Simeon's image. "As far as the station
exterior damage is concerned, isn't there a relevant
clause in the station's charter that guarantees immedi-
ate repairs?"

"Hmmm." The holo turned static for a moment
before Simeon smiled, "Yes, as a matter of feetÑemer-
gency expenses for maintaining station integrity and
saving life and limb are covered under the general sta-
tion contract with Lloyd's. We ought to be able to cover
everything."

"Excellent," Claren said, tapping at his keyboard.
"'Nuther li'l thing. Fo' all them drills, Simeon, when
we was supposed to know what to do iffen thar was a
real one, thar was a mighty lot of folks ended up
runnin* around like scalded roosters. Ought to be
fined, to remind 'em to pay attention."

"Fined? Yes, fined! Fine. Good notion, Patsy,"
Simeon said, "And the longer they've been on station
and should know better, the heavier the fine. Pinch a
pocket, mark the memory. What bothers me is why
didn't they know where they were supposed to be. I call

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

143

these drills Ñ even if you're always complaining about
them Ñ often enough for everyone to know exactly
where to go and what to do. Their names are always
checked off on the roster, so why the hell were they
running around bumping into walls?"

"Aw, thar's allus some £>lk who panic, Simeon," Patsy
said. "Mos' of us was*whar we shoulda been. And Lord
knows, we got-it all done, din we?" Patsy said.

"I'm inclined to think that perhaps we should give
them the benefit of the doubt here," Channa put in.
"But perhaps you should keep an eye on the group
leaders, in the event that they just automatically check
off every name on their list without verifying that
everyone is in position and accounted for."

"Assign them a buddy," Gus said. "If they're too
helpless to know where to go and how to get there,
make it a joint responsibility."

"Should be the group leaders," Chaundra said in a
disgusted tone.

"Joint responsibility! Excellent," Simeon said, "just
like B & B teams."

The resolution was passed unanimously.

"Move that we break for lunch," somebody said. "It's

1300."

"Seconded," Channa said. "1 think I need a full
stomach to hear what our guests have to say. Spaceflot
suggests they've got a fairly lurid set of adventures to
tell us. Any objections? Adjourned."

A little different from last night, eh Happy? Simeon
watched as Channa munched on her thin sandwich.
He hoped she was comparing this fare with the feast
Mart'an had spread for her. The deck commissary was
not up to Perimeter standards, although Gus claimed
that they did an acceptable late-night pizza.

"So, brief us with what you know, Simeon, about our
latest arrivals," Gus said.

144

Anne McCaffrey fcf 5M, Stating

Simeon made a throat-clearing sound. "Data base
describes 'em as a "tightly knit, religiously oriented
group' in origin," he said. "Judaeo-Sufi Buddhist
roots."

"Wow," Patsy said. "Thassa mouthful. But do they
believe in God?"	**

Wondering looks, sage nods and quizzical "ooh's"
went around the table.

"Probably worshipping snails and marrying their
siblings, or some such genetically stupid custom," Vick-
ers said. The station security chief was a short, rather
squat woman from New Newfoundland. "Buddhists,
you said? No wonder they nearly crashed us. That kind
don't know much about mechanical stuff."

"Wait, just a precise minute." Doctor Chaundra held
up a protesting hand. "To begin with, I saw no medical
indications of dangerous inbreeding. They may have
looked as if they didn't comprehend directions or our
comments, but they were all dazed from their experi-
ences. They are needing rest and recuperation, but
under that is health. Genetic diversity is low, but there
are few recessives. I would hazard that they must have
had a good screening program to begin with. The
group is above the norm. One or two may have endo-
crine behavioral problems from the coldsleep drugs.
They administered drugs well beyond their storage
lives. The Bethelite leader is a very articulate man,
educated and intelligent

"Although," he went on, with a slight frown, "he has
not been particularly communicative."

"Unfortunately, education and intelligence don't
always go hand in hand," Simeon commented. "It's not
that I've got my heart set on the 'religious fanatics drive
the heretics away' scenario, but it does fit the little I've
been able to decipher of Guiyon's log. Phrases like,
'Damn rockheaded elders who said immorality and
doubt in the young had brought doom'; 'told them

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

145

their children had a right to live'; 'feared some of them
might betray us'; 'escaped as best we could'; and sad-
dest of all, 'had to leave some behind to face death.'"

Patsy put down her sandwich. "I'm not hungry
anymore."

"Nor am I," Ghannajfcaid grimly. "It's rime to get this
from the mouths oftfie horses."

Stallion, you mean, Simeon remarked very privately.

Amos ben Sierra Nueva was accompanied by the
smaller, thickset-man who had been found beside him
on the colony ship. Two of Vickers* guards were dis-
creetly in attendance, more to guide the floatchairs
than guard.

They're weak as kittens, Simeon thought, not to mention
unarmed and with no place else to go and nothing to go there
in. Station personnel developed a special kind of
paranoia as a survival trait: nothing, no one must harm
their station. Any station, no matter how state-of-the-
art and safety conscious, was totally vulnerable. Had
he, in innocence, welcomed aboard terrorists fleeing
'rockheaded' elders? Oddly enough, the presence of
Guiyon argued against that possibility.

As their chairs thumped softly off their air cushions
to the floor, the two strangers looked with impassive
expressions at those seated around the table.

Simeon heard Patsy murmuring under her breath;
very faintly, almost subvocalizing. He focused, upping
the gain on his receptors:

"Oh, my oh my, that one is pretty" she was saying. "My oh
myohmy"

Patsy's obvious interest in the man did not surprise
Simeon but it did suggest he might have an entirely dif-
ferent problem on his hands. However, if Patsy's
charms should win Amos, Simeon could relax. Then
he caught Channa, glancing surreptitiously at Amos'
classic profile, slightly clouded with a worry that only

146

Anne McCaffrey fcf 5M. StMxng

gave him a more Jovian solemnity. Then, seeing the
look exchanged between Amos and Joseph, Simeon
wondered hopefully if the short, muscular man was his
boyfriend.

"Dr. Chaundra says that we mustn't tire you,"
Simeon said by way of calling the meeting to order, "but
we'd appreciate your filling us in on a few details."

Amos gave a start, and his eyes widened as he sud-
denly looked up to the pillar at the head of the table
and saw Simeon's synthesized face. So, he knows about
shettpeople, bid he's surprised to find one here.

"We are grateful for your succor," Amos began for-
mally, bowed his head, touching forehead and heart
with one hand.

"I am Amos ben Sierra Nueva, and my companion is
Joseph ben Said." The short man repeated Amos's
gesture.

Seeing it, Gusky frowned slightly and moved his
fingers. Simeon read the message. I figure the short one
for a hard case.

The brain accepted that verdict. There were some
things that only personal experience could teach.
Amos continued speaking, pausing as he sought the
appropriate words but gradually becoming more
fluent and his blue eyes began to warm with sincerity.

"We are of the colony on Bethel, I am loathe to tell
you, in the face of your generosity, of a terrible scourge,
a bright evil that flies upon us even now."
"A... bright evil?" Channa asked uncertainly.
Scourge* Evil? Sheesh! Simeon wondered. The
archaic syntax made the man sound as stilted as a his-
torical holoplay. What's he talking about? Devils* So he can
blame the whole disaster on the supernatural'? There was a
rustle as the others around the table leaned forward.
They had expected to hear about something safely in
the past, not a new threat to the station. Yesterday's had
been more than enough for a long while.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

147

"Indeed, lady, you are in grave danger." He caught
the blank or startled expressions around the table.
"Has Guiyon told you nothing?" he asked desperately.

"Guiyon is dead," Simeon said, and saw both men go
rigid with shock and grief. He thought better of them
for it and pausedto let them recover. "The ship's logs
are all but unreadable. Why don't you fill us in?"
Simeon suggested quietly.

"He is dead?" Amos's drawn face had gone pale under
its smooth light-olive coloring. "But, how is that possible?
He wa&a sljellperson, an immortal. Ah, perhaps that is
why we are not at Rigel Base or some other Central
Worlds facility where we thought to seek assistance."

"He brought you here, to SSS-900-C, a space station
and many light years from Rigel Base."

"How can an immortal die?" Joseph asked softly,
suppliant as he spread his hands wide in his lap.

"The feeder lines to his nutrient sources had
sheared off and, as there was no backup ..." Simeon
trailed off and both Bethelites bowed their heads a
moment, honoring the dead. "Considering the state of
that truly ancient vessel of yours, he did well to get you
this for."

Amos glanced at his companion. The other man's
hard blocky face was drawn, and he nodded his head
slowly twice, as if encouraging. Amos hesitated, cleared
his throat and, throwing his chin up, spoke directly to
Simeon.

"This is even worse than I had imagined. Guiyon must
have been truly desperate. Can you defend yourselves?"

"Well, we fended off your out-of-control ship pretty
successfully," Simeon replied. "What did you have in
mind?"

Amos leaned forward, supporting himself on the
armrests of the chair. His eyes took on a fierce glow.

"I will tell you," he said passionately, sweeping a look
at those around the table. "We of Bethel are a peaceful

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Anne MtCaffrey &f 5M. Stating

people." His fists met and clenched. "Virtually a
defenseless people." His mouth twisted in pain. "We
were attacked from the skies above our peaceful
planet. I do not know how you countthe hours in a day
or the days of a week, a month or a yegr. I do not know
how long we were unconscious in the Sleep. We fled
our home world for four periods of twenty-five hours
before I took the drug. Just before I did, Guiyon told
me that he thought we would have a solid five days'
lead. So nine days of twenty-five hoursÑtwo hundred
and twenty-five hours."

"Sixty minutes in yo* hoah, Mr. Sierra Nuevah?"
Patsy asked.

Looking over at her expressionlessly, he nodded
slowly.

Simeon called up a holo of Bethel, culled and real-
ized from the Survey Service data base.

"That is our world as it appeared before this
Exodus," Amos said bleakly, watching the slow rotation
on die screen. "Our capital city was there," and pointed
to where two large rivers flowed into a bay. "Keriss, we
called it. The place where the Pilgrims landed and
erected our Temple. The Kolnari. . ." He broke,
squeezing his eyes dosed, his face a mask of pain.

Reference, Simeon prompted silently, feeling the
computer begin its work. Tlien he felt a mental lurch as
he reviewed what Amos had said. The city of Keriss was
there:.past tense. Gus caught it as well, his pupils
widening.

"They demanded unconditional surrender," Amos
was saying, his face wiped dear of any emotion. "By
sneak attack, they disabled our orbital habitats, our
communications, everything we might have used to
call help."

He folded his shaking hands, clasping them so
tightly the knuckles showed white. "Tne Council of
Elders convened," he said. His lips tightened. "They

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

149

decided this tribulation was punishment for the
increasing immorality of the younger generation. Mel"

He stabbed himself in the breast with his fingers,
"And those like me, who only wanted a little more
freedom, who only wanted to have answers to
reasonable quCstiDnsAThey would not listen to me Ñ
even though I am a male descendent, in the Prophet's
own line."	_-

Locked in bitter memory, Amos did not notice the
surprise his words generated.

Ah, patrUineal descent system, Simeon thought.

"I thank the All-Knowing for Guiyon, for when I left
the council chamber that last time, he called to me.
Escape, he said. 'To go where? How?' I asked. He told
me then of the colony ship that had brought us to
Bethel. For three hundred years we had used it as a
weather and relaying station, nothing more. I left to
gather those who might follow me."

His hands knotted together. "And the Kolnari...
when the Elders refused surrender, they destroyed the
dry with a fusion weapon!"

A shocked murmur ran around the table. No one
had used fusion weapons in generations. Certainly not
in any sector answerable to the Central Worlds.

"Murderers! Looters! Pirates!" he spat out the words
and rubbed his face with his hands.

Another murmur. SSS-900-C was in a very peaceful
sector; the only nonhumans were spedes who did not
practice institutionalized violence. The settlers were
mostly well-integrated types, if a bit rambunctious, but
no more than was expected on a frontier. Piracy was an
historical phenomenon or a sporadic occurrence far
out on the Arm.

In a steady voice, all the more effective because of its
calm, Amos went on. "A tenth of our people died in that
moment, and all our leaders. The Kolnari told us that
we must capitulate or they would strike again. They

150

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Stating

broadcast their message from a dark screen. They
would strike again and again until we were obliterated
to the last man. Just this implacable voice. The
cowardsl They did not even show us the face of our
enemy. They gave us two hours to make up our minds.

"And so we began. It was very hard, we had to deter-
mine who we could take." His cheeks grew red with
shame as he continued. "First we took'Guiyon from his
column. We could not open the main bay doors. Ah,
but we were so stupid, so innocent, so untrained! We*d
managed to get supplies, disconnect Guiyon, gathered
our people, flown to the ship without being detected
and then," he gave a harsh bark of laughter, "the doors
refused to open! Some murmured that the Elders had
been right. We were being punished for our sins.

"Then, Joseph here," and Amos laid a light hand on
the short man's shoulder, "opened one of the service
airlocks. Only it was much too small for Guiyon's shell
He insisted that he didn't have to be inside, that we
must strap him to the hull near die bridge, so that his
brain synapses could be wired into the command
panel. He had to tell us everything that had to be done.
We knew so little of such matters." Another bitter snort
"And we were so afraid. None of us knew anything at
all about spatial navigation. I had piloted a ship, but
only a small one, and never beyond Bethel's moons.
Beyond Bethel's moons," and he made a broad sweep
of his arm, "was not fit for men of Bethel. Also, we know
nothing of the worlds outside our litde system. Guiyon
handled what outsystem commerce was permitted to
us on Bethel."

He paused, swallowing hard, and Chaundra filled a
glass with water for him. Amos nodded gratefully and
drank before he resumed his story.

"Guiyon dared not risk bringing us to one of the
nearer colonies for fear of leading those monsters to an
equally defenseless planet. Instead," and he gave a

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

151

mirthless laugh, "we may have led them to an even
more defenseless space station. At least on a planet, one
may know of safe hiding places. I do not know why we
are here and not at Rigel Base. Guiyon must have
changed course again. There were four fiends in our
wake when I had to adtept the drug. Well-armed war-
ships, or so Guiyc&i thought. And we have led them
here to you who have" saved the poor fragment of our
people who fled from our once beautiful planet" He
bowed his head, his shoulders slumping with his con-
summate despair.

An appalled silence had broken into a quickly rising
babble of "they've brought trouble here," "they led
fiends to its?," "But we're defenseless." Simeon let out a
modulated howl and they all shut up.

"Thank you," Simeon said ironically when silence
fell. When in danger, or in doubt, run in circles, scream and
shout, he added to himself.

"Guiyon brought them here because first, the
engines were about to blow, and second, they were
dying fast anyway, and third, SSS-900-C is, after all, on
the main route in this quadrant of Central Worlds
sphere of influence. Now, if we could examine the
problem more calmly?"

Claren turned to May Vickers. "As security chief,
you're required to defend us!"

Vickers looked at the man. "With stundart pistols?"
she asked incredulously. "I'm a police officer with fifty
part-time assistants. I lock up drunken miners and see
domestic disputes don't get out of hand," she said. "I've
never had experience with fiends and I want no part of
four warships." She crossed her arms across her solid
chest and looked accusingly up at Simeon.

"Is it possible that you might have lost them?"
Chaundra asked.

The two Bethelites shook their heads glumly.

"Unlikely," Simeon said, "not when Guiyon was

152

Amu McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating

overdriving the engines and leaving an ion trail a blind
alien could follow."

Gus nodded. "Any warship could."

"Iffen they couldn't see the trail, thar's all them
pieces of the ship rollin* about, saying 'theah heahh!'"
Patsy waved her arms like a signalman. "We cain't
hardly say they passed on through.".,

"My information banks give me no information at all
about any group, or star system, known as Kolnari,"
said Simeon. "While J realize that your experience with
these people is short-term, had you even heard of them
on Bethel before they struck?"

Amos shook his head. "Guiyon had heard rumors of
a band of marauders in the Arm from the few traders
that came to Bethel. He was also forbidden by the
Elders to tell any but themselves what news traders
brought of the worlds beyond Bethel. On the ship, he
did tell me," and Amos furrowed his brow, trying to
remember the exact words the shellperson had used,
"that they struck so swiftly that no alarm could go forth.
That that was how they avoided detection by any force
great enough to come against them."

"Central Worlds, for instance," Channa said with a
rueful quirk of her lips.

Amos nodded. "The first wave of destruction was
aimed at our air and space ports, at communication
installations. The strike was as complete as it was unex-
pected. They chose not to show themselves to us until
all our space capacity was destroyed ... or so they
thought. All we know of them was from a very brief
time when we fought them. They follow us to destroy
the evidence of the destruction of Bethel, the latest of
their crimes. They will kill, and quickly. No doubt," he
added with scorn, "they feel uneasy being only four
instead of three hundred."

"Three hundred?" Simeon asked.

"Three hundred ships. So Guiyon told me. He had

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

153

seen them coming in but was forbidden by the Elders
to speak until they had decided what to do."

Gus whistled. "If that's three hundred warships,
people, not only do we have a problem, this whole sector
has a problem." The Navy was much larger, but it was
scattered. - " ~ ^

"Have you had*any recent word from Central,
Simeon?" Channa asjced him.

"Basically no more than an acknowledgement of the
... ah... incident in the vein of 'Gee,that's too bad, but
you're equipped to handle it and when your reports
are filed, we'll see what we can do.1 But of course that's
based on what happened yesterday; this may get us
action."

At least I hope it will, Simeon thought. Three hundred
ships! Shit! Simeon opened a tight beam to Central with
a mayday flag attached. Hopefully he'd have some
hard news before too long.

"What sort of armament did they have?" Gus asked
while the rest of the station's leaders sat, trying not to
look at each other and especially not at Amos and
Joseph. Amos had gone even paler and the blue of his
eyes had faded. He just sat there. On the other hand,
Joseph was watching each and every one of the station
heads with a critical gaze and the slightest of knowing
smiles on his full lips.

Simeon could see that the initial numbness his
people had felt was giving way to fear. Gus was fighting
it with trained reflex, but the others were edging slowly
toward panic.

"You must have something to fight with," Joseph
said, suddenly leaning his arms on the table and direct-
ing a piercing gaze from one face to another. "We
fought, and we had much less than you did who turned
the vessel from your station yesterday. With what did
you blow it into pieces? Do you have more? That is
something. It is more than we had who saw our ships

154

. Stirling

withered to slag. Our city..." He broke off and struck
his fists impotently into the table. "We have brought
you warning. We had none!"

Amos caught his friend by the wrists before he could
damage his hands. "Peace, my brotfier," he said softly.

"Oh, youah brothas?" Patsy saicfin mild surprise,
peering closely at both to find some familial
resemblance.	;"

"Not of the blood," and Amos touched his temple
with his index finger, "of the mind."

"Unh-hunh!" Patsy blushed and tightened her lips
into a straight line.

"I've sent a message to Central Worlds," Simeon told
them in a brisk voice that he hoped sounded as if he had
matters well in hand. "They're consulting with the Space
Navy brass Ñ to see what to do. I was hoping they'd tell
me what they were doing, and or what we can do. I
should've anticipated a full fledged diplomatic-
bureaucratic-governmental-bunfight, complete with
quarrels over jurisdiction. Everyone with something to
say about this has to be tracked down and given an
opportunity to give his fardling opinion in triplicate.
Amos, believe me, kid, I know just how you feel about
elders. The good news is that Navy intends to act fast,
only there aren't any Navy units dose. The nearest is
eighteen days away. Tliis is assuming the brass cut move-
ment orders today and not sometime after we've become
the subject of mere academic debate, because we don't
exist anymore.

"Which means that at best we can look forward to thir-
teen lucky days with our naked butts hanging out waiting
for a kick from a booted foot That nearest Navy unit is a
patrol corvette, a warship only by courtesy."

"Then you must flee!" Amos leaned forward urgent-
ly. "You cannot hope to defeat them. You must leave
this place."

"Great idea," Simeon agreed, "in principle. Only the

THE cm WHO FOUGHT

155

station can't move. That's why it's a station. It's station-
ary. Get it?"

"You mock me most unfairly," Amos replied with
solemn and offended dignity. "I have no knowledge of
space stations or of your capabilities. Further, I am not

wrong. I£the stationltftelf cannot move, then its people

_*"	i ~
must                     *

"As far as- such advice goes," Gus cut in, "he has a
point. We should evacuate as many as we can Ñ
children, the sick, nonessential personnel. Whoever we
can, or whoever's hot to go."

"By my calculations," Simeon said, finishing them in
that instant, "given the number of ships currently in or
near me at the moment, we should be able to evacuate
over a thousand souls." He liked that touch. "Not
counting crews."

Tliere was silence for a moment A thousand was a frac-
tion of the average ever-shifiingpopulationofthe station.

Amos broke the silence hesitantly. "How many
people will that leave on the station?"

"Fifteen thousand, or so," Channa said grimly. "Our
population varies. Simeon, does your estimate include
emptying cargo bays and stuffing our people into them
in suits?" A desperation procedure and liable to result
in some fatalities.

"No, wecould evacuate a few hundred more that way."

Although, given the average softperson's reaction to long-
term confinement in tight spaces, we probably won't get many
volunteers for traveling that way.

"And before you ask," Simeon continued, "no, I
haven't even asked the captains their views on such an
. . . exodus. That's a best case scenario. We can't
prevent those who aren't docked in the station physi-
cally from leaving, so the scheme is still just inside this
room. I think diat before we start bringing anyone else
into this, we should have at least one plan to present,
preferably more than one."

156

Amu McCaffrey &f SM. Storting

"Evacuation plans?" Chaundra asked, his brow
furrowed.

"Those," Simeon said, "and plans to fight for the
station."

There was a certain brightening around the table.
Nothing visible, but the lift in attitude was almost
palpable.

"That's right up your alley, Simeon," Channa said
gendy, "even if this isn't a military installation."

"To fight," Joseph said, his dark eyes glinting with
revived hope. Or was it vengeance? "Yes, this is what
we would like to do, but how? Did you not say that you
had no weapons? And surely they will not give you a
chance to combat them. Why should they not simply
rush in and destroy you? That would be but child's play
for them."

"We will employ guile." Ceeze, their lingo is contagious,
he thought. "Remember, you said these people were
pirates?"

"Yes," Amos said. "When they made their initial
demand for surrenderÑthey mentioned deliveries of
materials, machines, labor. Pirates, but they speak as
though they were a people, a nation. The High Clan,
they sometimes named themselves. At others, the
Divine Ñ" his mouth puckered in distaste "Ñ the
Divine Seed of Kolnar."

"Right" Simeon spoke briskly. This is just (mother exotic
scenario, he told himself firmly. Games theory, experienceÑ
don't freeze up now. You've done things like this thousands of
times. "So they're no more than criminals, not a true
army, disciplined, strategically trained. More like gueril-
las. Jump in, grab what they can, jump out Right now,
they're pursuing you, and these four ships aim to destroy
you to keep you from spreading any nasty rumors about
them. So, what we better do first, is get their minds off
killing by distracting them with the material things they
wanted from you in the first place. Right?"

THE cm WHO FOUGHT

157

Every station officer thought about this. Then Gus
nodded slowly.

"If these people are space-based, and from the
description I think they must be Ñ what a prize the
SSS-900-C would be!" He turned to Amos and Joseph.
"What sort of intlustrfe^does... did Bethel have?"

"Very few," Amofe said, rubbing a thoughtful hand
along his stubbled jajr'^We could maintain equipment
and manufacture some components for in-system
work. We traded rare foodstuffs and organic molecules
for what little eke we needed. Traders came perhaps
once in a generation. The latest only lastÑ"

Joseph swore antiphonally with Gus, Patsy, and
Simeon. Channa snapped her fingers. "They must
have been... what's the phrase?

"Casin" the joint," Patsy said for she had a store of
such archaic phrases.

"Spies!" Joseph said. Tears welled in his eyes, tears of
pure rage.

"Always someone who can be bought," Simeon said,
giving his holo image a wise appearance. Or so info tapes
say, but Tve never had to use that tactic.

Joseph nodded jerkily. "I knew several who would
sell their mothers and fathers... maybe their fathers
... for the price of two bottles of arrack."

"Back to the here and now, please," Gus said,
boulder-solid.

Amos shook his head, sending the long black curls
flying. "We have ... had, very litde high technology,
and of what there was... much was in Keriss."

"So they'll be hurting for equipment, possibly for
skilled labor," Simeon said. "They've got to be. Whad-
dya bet that most of those three hundred ships are
transports, factory vessels, that sort of thing. They
wouldn't be self-sufficient even if they have a home
base or star system."

"There've always been folk who'd rather steal than

158

ArmeMcCaffrey &SM. Stating

work," Gus said. He had no arguments on that score
from anyone. "And they'll want to steal from us."

SSS-900-C was a maintenance and repair center. It
was also heavy with rare materials intended for
shipyard and general shipbuilding use. No one argued
with that, either.	^

Simeon addressed the two refugee leaders. "First, we
have to get them thinking along those" lines. Otherwise
they may simply sweep in and put a couple of high-
yield missiles into us. My plan calls for a sacrifice on
your part that I'm reluctant to ask of you."

"Ask," Amos said quietly. "A drowning man will grab
even the point of a sword. I should like to prove worthy
of Guiyon's sacrifice. Ask!"

"1 want to tempt them with booty too rich to resist
and get their acquisitive juices flowing. We'll comman-
deer one of the company yachts that salesmen travel in
when they show their samples to rich customers, and
we'll cram its holds full of things the bastards won't be
able to resist. With the promise of much more easily
available Ñ here!"

"Such as?** Channa asked suspiciously.

"Technological stuff, upgrades in software, in com-
puters, the latest improvements in fuel efficiency. We'll
include luxury fabrics, perfumes, jewelry, exotic
delicacies..."

"Bribery will only make them hungrier to sack the
station," Joseph all but shouted, half-rising from his
chair.

"Peace, my brother," Amos soothed him, "remember
that sicatooths do not eat grass. One must put out a
goat to bait the trap for them."

"See, you don't shoot the cow you're milking," Gus
contributed.

"Hell no, you don't eat a pig lahke that all at once,"
Patsy said.

Simeon almost laughed aloud to see the puzzled

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

159

expressions on the faces of Amos and Joseph. Good one,
Patsy, rememberthat "my brother" fake they pulled onya and
don't let 'em think they can be more obscure than we can.

Chaundra explained the humor and only raised his
brows slightly when Joseph asked, "What's a pig?"
Channa herself was¡puAled. She would have expected
the natives of an agricultural world to recognize the
name of an important'farm animal. Her own protein
came out of vats, the way nature intended, as far as she
was concerned. If not literally, then she didn't want to
think about it.

"Won't they think it's kinda odd, though, one guy
sellin* so many different things?" Patsy asked.

"Not if he's a middle-man type, importer-exporter,
rather than a manufacturer's rep," Simeon said. "It's
not that hard to deceive people once, Patsy."

"But we have none of these things you have men-
tioned," Amos said, puzzled. "We have no cloth or jewels
or softwear. What is this sacrifice you would ask of us?"

"We need someone to put in the yacht we'll be send-
ing out, and I'm not about to send a living person. I'd
like to send one of your people who died in transit from
ship to station. Preferably someone who died as a result
of the environment failure, since that's why he's going
to be out there in this luxury ship, broadcasting an
offer for a huge reward to anyone who'll rescue him."

Amos and Joseph looked shocked. They sat unmov-
ing for a minute, then slowly turned to meet each
other's eyes.

"Impossible!" Joseph said, his lips tight with fury.
"What you ask is base sacrilege!"

Channa glanced at Simeon's column as though
appealing for help, then plunged in, knowing no
diplomatic way of putting this. "Your funerary customs
are... firmly set?"

"Yess!" Joseph hissed. "We honor our dead, we bury
them and revere their resting place."

160

Anne McCaffrey fc? 5M. Stirling

"Well," Simeon told him, "we have no place to bury
our dead here on the station, and it's prohibitively
expensive to ship them back to their home planets. You
can't simply bury them in space because eventually
they constitute a navigation hazard. Here we cremate
our dead."	=*>

"And the ashes?" Amos asked.

"Unless specifically requested, there are no ashes."

Amos bowed his head. "For bur dead, we request
ashes, so that one day, hopefully, we might return our
friends to Bethel. As to your ... your appeal for the
body of one of ours, I thirik, my brother," and he
turned to Joseph, "that we should consider that an
honor to serve is being offered one of our dead rather
than sacrilege. Surely, whoever we choose, would have
been pleased to be of help to those who survived."

"Itis wrong!" Joseph said. "And I object!"

"My brother," Amos said through gritted teeth, "if
you angle with a straight hook, only those fish which
are willing get on it. Be reasonable, or we may all be
dead. It is only a hope, a possibility we are offered. If
they destroy this decoy, they will then destroy the sta-
tion and we will join our friends who are dead and we
can all go unburied forever." He stared at his com-
panion until, after a long moment, Joseph lowered his
eyes and nodded. To Simeon, Amos said, "Choose the
person most suitable for this ruse from among our
dead brothers."

"Thank you," Simeon said simply, and the others
around the table murmured their thanks as well.

"Okay," Channa said, bringing them back to more
immediate concerns, "these pirates come upon this
derelict space-yacht. They hear the message, 'Help,
help, my environment system is down, auggh, I'm
dying, save me and I'll reward you with umpity-zillion
credits.'"
"Right"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

161

"They give him a buzz, no answer, so they bip on
over to his craft and board it"

"Right"

"They find Ñ whomeverÑseveral days dead due to
environment failure/

"Right/*      "   ~    *

"Why don't theyjust hold their noses and sail on?"

"Urn, well^first, itls the nature of pirates to be greedy.
So we'll pile the ship high with cases of samples, clearly
marked samples, dearly marked as coming from SSS-
900-C. Second; no one likes to go back to their senior
officer and say, 'It was a total waste of time, sir,' because
it makes them look bad in their captain's eyes. So I think
we can expect them to make at least a cursory search of
the ship. Third, there'll be a curiosity factor, since I
plan to choose the most opulent yacht in the area.
These guys probably haven't seen anything like it
hanging around the out-systems.

"So they'll probably be crawling all over it saying, 'I
can't believe it! Look at this! Whatluxury!' One of these
factors will attract their attention to the com screen,
which will show a report our salesman was inputing
when disaster struck. It will say something to the effect
ofOJrabjwus day, fvejust made the biggest sale of my career to
the SSS-900-C. Tve promised them delivery in fourteen days or
less. The home office has confirmed the delivery date. Order
manifestfoUows. Hooray, hooray, bounce bounce!

"And there will be a listing that would make me drool
and want to turn pirate."

Gus nodded. "It sounds do-able, though I hate to
spare even one ship from the evacuation effort."

"I can understand that, Gus, but balance the dozen
or so who could be evacuated on the yacht against the
fifteen thousand plus people at risk on the station, and
I think the sacrifice is justified," Simeon replied. Seeing
that he had his audience listening very carefully, he
went on. "Now, to prepare the rest of the station for

162

Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. Stating

pirate-fell, I want all irreplaceable equipment discon-
nected and hidden, or ifit can't be moved, I want it
disguised or dismantled with no spare parts visible. All
menus on all computer terminals will be changed. I
intend to make them as confusing and difficult to
understand as possible, in order to entourage any out-
sider using our equipment to make as many horrible
and damaging mistakes as possible. We'll need to have
the emergency crews on alert at all times."

Twenty glum faces surrounded the table.

"Just a minute," Channa said slowly. "You're sug-
gesting we let these... these/tends occupy the station?"

"We can't stop them," Simeon explained patiently. "We
can't stop a single real warship from sinking a missile into
the station's equator and blowing all fifteen thousand of us
to MC-squared. I don't like it either, Channa. But we have
to keep them from doing too much damage until the Navy
gets hereÑand we know the time frame on that If we can
confoozle them long enough so the Navy can catch 'em,
that'll solve how to get rid of them.

"Once they make a few disastrous mistakes, they'll
prefer to use our people. Why should they break their
brains trying to learn how to run a station they'll only
be occupying until they can loot it empty? I want our
people, not theirs, in sensitive positions. No matter
how it looks to them, I want real control of the station to
remain in our hands. I'm willing to take a few risks to
gain that advantage."

"Oh," Channa said carefully. "Sounds reasonable."

"Doctor Chaundra, you're really going to hate this
one."

"You want me to make people sick."

"Got it in one. How'd you guess?"

"I assume that you know I didn't become a physician
because I enjoy watching people suffer," he said calmly.
"I will not kill. Otherwise, who do you want me to do it
to and why do you want me to do it?"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

163

"I want Co be able to declare a class-two quarantine,
make them reluctant to enter the living quarters. We
can't keep them out entirely unless we declare that a
deadly disease is rampant on the station, in which case,
we might as well blow the place ourselves and spare them
the missile. I'd like to fee the infirmary littered with
volunteers groaning in misery, for authenticity's sake.
But, most important^ want every one of the pirates who
enters the living area to walk out with whatever bug
you're using in his or her system doing what it does best
Fairly soon, tJieyTl get the idea they should confine their
communications with stationers to holocasts."

Chaundra wore a crooked smile. "Leper, unclean,
unclean," he said in a singsong voice. Patsy was the
only one at the table who understood his reference, but
Simeon did, too. Then Chaundra shook his head. "Too
little time to fake that particular disease. So! Agreed, I
will search for a suitable virus. We can synthesize readi-
ly Ñ but we must hope the . . . Kolnari? have
inadequate medics and no equivalent facilities."

"Patsy?" Simeon began.

"Yo, lover."

"As soon as we've got some data of a physical nature
on these fiends, I would appreciate it if you could come
up with some spore, or pollen or mixture of gases that
would make our anticipated visitors real unhappy. If
you can arrange to afflict their ships only, and not the
station, I'll like it even better."

"Oh, Simeon, an opportunity! You do love me,
doncha honey?"

"First and always, sweetpea."

*'Aw, blush." She consulted her keyboard.
"Allergies'd be a good bet. They're pretty dam' specific
in groups with low genetic divers'ty. Once we get some
tissue samples,yeeehahl"

"Seriously, we can evacuate people or critical supplies
like mining explosives, but not both," Channa said.

164

Anne McCaffny &? SM. Stating

"I was just coming to that We'll have to leave some in
the stores or it would look odd. After all, we are a sup-
ply center. But I want as much of that particular
commodity relabeled, rerouted, or hidden wherever.
We should leave, maybe, four percent below the lowest
reserves we've ever recorded. Have the records show
that we're between shipments, the additional four per-
cent shortage of explodables is .because we used some
of the stores to blow up the colony ship." Simeon saw
no point in giving the Kolnari free weapons. Td like to
do the same with food and medical supplies as well.
Any questions?"

"Yeah," one of the supply officers spoke up,
"where are we gonna pitt all this stuff, particularly the
explosives?"

"You get it together," Simeon said, "I'll tell you
where. Right now, let's work out what supplies the
evacuation ships will need and I want you to start pull-
ing together those tasty goods we're going to use to
tempt the . . . sicatooth."

"You got it," the woman said.

"We, too, would like to serve," Amos said earnestly,
"in any way that we can. Ask and we will aid you to the
best of our ability.

, Simeon thought

Amos continued. "It is to our great shame that we
have brought this terror down upon you. Better that
we had all died..."

"Shut up!** Channa snapped, the verbal equivalent of
a slap to a hysteric. "How dare you say that? All Hves are
precious. Guiyon thought so. He recognized that he
must save as many of you as he could and he did. Stop
beating your chests. YouTl only get more bruises. For all
we know, they might have come this way anyhow."

"You have been harbingers, and though such aren't
much appreciated, I'd like to say now that I, Simeon,

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

165

SSS-900-C, am grateful to you, and particularly to...
Guiyon. If you'd all died at Bethel, no one in this sector
would have known of the Kolnari and how they
operate." Simeon paused. "I gather they operate on a
scorched earth policy?" When the two Bethelites looked
puzzled, he addedgenfly, "They dear away all traces that
they've been there? That anyone's been on that planet?
Hmm. Thought so.£&n't leave dues behind if they want
to keep on cutting their swath of destruction."

Simeon caught an,odd sound coming from Joseph
and did a quick enlargement of the man's fece. Tlie
Bethelite was actually grinding his teeth. Amos' blue
eyes dulled with the pain of his own thoughts on the
subject of total annihilation.

By now that concept was dawning on three or four
stationers and their expressions reflected their shock.
Piracy and looting were bad enough, but these Kolnari
had gotten away with implied multiple acts of
genocide.

"Central and the Navy are receiving hourly update
blips," Simeon went on to provide what reassurance he
could that SSS-900 was already ahead of the Kolnari on
the dice roll. M Bethel will have retribution, if not
blanket reparations when the accounting is rendered.
You've saved not only yourselves, but us and what's left
of your world."

M 'He who fights and ...' " Diplomatically Channa
edited the old adage slight" '... escapes away! lives to
fight another day.'" She even made it rhyme. She went
on firmly. "Dying would just..." She waved her hands,
racking her mind for the right words.

"Would be wasteful suicide," Simeon concluded for
her. "And allow the Kolnari to sweep the board." He
caught Channa's little grimace over his constant use of
war-gaming terminology.

"Exactly, and you can't let those . . ." Again she
fumbled for a dire enough epithet

166

Anne McCaffrey fcf 5M. Stirling

"Black-hearted sons of bitches?" Simeon offered.
Nice combination of informality and traditional epithet,
pleased with himself.

"Thank you ... black-hearted sons of bitches go on
killing and stealing. So, if you want to wish somebody
dead, wish it on them" Channa finished, thumping the
table with a fist for emphasis.

Amos smiled in chagrin. "You have burnt away my
weakness with your fiery speech, beautiful lady. I shall
direct my hatred towards our mutual enemy."

"Fine! Glad that's been settled. Now I'm going to
adjourn this meeting," Simeon said, "Channa and I have
to address the ships' captains in two hours and you all
have plenty to do. I'd like progress reports every six
hours from everyone, please. You may contact me at any
time with any difficulties encountered. Amos, would you
be good enough to accompany Doctor Chaundra to the
morgue to choose our decoy. He'll also assist you with
proper funeral arrangements for the other victims."

Amos nodded solemnly. Chaundra put his hand sym-
pathetically on the younger man's shoulder, powered up
the fioatchair, and they left the lounge together. Joseph's
float, activated by one of the guards, started back to the
infirmary. The station officers bustled off, no one of a
mind to chat or rehash the meeting. Only Channa
remained, staring off, her eyes unfocused.

"I take it back."

"What?"

"At the moment, I'm deeply and utterly grateful that
you chose to study war instead of romance."

"There goes another one," Simeon said glumly.

A spot crawled through the plotting tank Simeon
was screening on one wall of the lounge, trundling out
of SSS-900-C's vicinity and heading for the low-mass
zone and its interstellar transit.

"How did they find out?" Channa said.

"That's the Herod's Dream. She's an independent.
One of those merchant-family ships that kick around
the fringes, picking up stuff that's not worth the big
outfits* while. They don't have to be told about trouble.
They can smell it"

"I suppose it's understandable. They've sunk their
savings in their ships which produce their livelihood."
Channa sighed tolerantly. "What about the others?"

"They should be..." He broke off "By Ghu!"

Channa also heard the tramp ofboots in the hall and
swiveled in her chair as a half-dozen variously dressed
figures swung into the meeting room.

They may well head out again faster than they came in,
Simeon thought as he watched captains file into the
room in pairs, or clumps, or singly. As motley a crew as
ever docked here. Shipsuits were designed to be comfort-
able under a pressure outfit. From there on,
individuality was often loudly or vulgarly expressed by
adjustments to that basic attire. For instance, the
woman with the shaved, tattooed skull wore a par-
ticularly vile shade of pinkish blue that wasn't the least
bit becoming Ñ if highly visible. The two nonhumans
didn't need to be anything but themselves to fit in with

168

Aime McCaffrey tfS-Af. Stirting

the other surly faces. They know something's up, but at least
they came to listen, unlike those who scampered.

What the hell, he thought with a mental sigh, well use
what we've got and be glad we've got it to use.

As the captains began to fill the room, few taking
chairs at the table, Channa, looking&r too elegant in a
light blue suit, had gone to the head of the conference
table. When a minute had passed with no new arrivals,
she opened her notescreen on the podium and looked
out at the assembled captains, waiting for them to set-
tle. Especially after a couple of Vicker's part-time police
appeared just beyond the entrance, with breather
masks and gas projectors as well as shock rods and dart
guns. Channa made a note to remind Vicker that the
enemy was not yet here and not to make enemies out of
anyone else just now.

"Thank you all for coming," she said.

You're probably wondering why fve catted you here today,
Simeon thought, anticipating Channa's opening
words.

"No doubt you're wondering why we've asked you
here," Channa said.

Close, but no cigar

"Station SSS-900-C is currently involved in an emer-
gency. I am Channa Hap, brawn to Simeon and we are
invoking section two, article two of the station's
charter." Which she tried to read out so that everyone
knew the station had the right to commandeer their
vessels,

A roar, surprisingly loud from so few throats though
the non-humans helped a lot, swelled through the
room, drowning her out. An occasional "whereas" or
"said captain" were all that could be heard.

Let 'emget it out of their systems, Simeon thought It was
understandableÑbreaking schedule would be expen-
sive, particularly for the small companies and the
independents. Hopefully they'd be more cooperative

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

169

afterwards. In any case, he had control of them all,
either because their ships docked to the station or their
skippers were attending this meeting. And nobody was
going to leave without accepting an assignment Not a
single captain here had an ounce of altruism, but sta-
tion vouchers would!* valid anywhere on their routes.
There'd be insurance when the dust settled but,
psychologically, neither voucher or insurance-when-it-
might-be-paid was as comforting as cash-in-hand.

At last they wound down. Simeon turned his volume
up to an almost painful level

"Sit down, please."

The mechanical roar filled the room. He added sub-
sonics that ought to make the humans feel uncertain
and cowed.

"Now that I have your complete attention," he said
suavely, adjusting to a more bearable level, "I'd like to
remind you that we have duly declared an emergency."

He paused and examined the defiant, angry faces.
"The station is expecting to be under attack shortly."

Another roar, this time of fear.

"SHUT UP." A second's pause. "Thank you very
much. We're all in this together. Except that you
gentlebeings are going to get away safely, which is more
than the rest of us can look forward to. Please keep that
in mind.

"Now," he went on, "we're going to evacuate
everyone we can; children under twelve and pregnant
women first, of course. They number eight hundred,
give or take a few." Not all that many, but passenger
facilities on freighters were generally nonexistent or
cramped cubicles. Adding any more bodies would
make a voyage of weeks uncomfortable, but would at
least keep life in those bodies. "I want to reduce all the
edible supplies on the station, so commissary is advised
to stock you up to your comtowers." There was a mur-
mur of appreciation. "However, at this moment in

170

AtmeMcCaffny&SM. Stating

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

171

time, I cannot guarantee full compensation for cargo or
non-delivery fines. I'd like to and you'll probably get it,
but I can't guarantee it."

*Just a damn minute!" a stocky captain with a
bulldog face roared. "Who's attacking the station?
We're three month's transit time fr&n any trouble, and
that's minor."

"Pirates," Simeon said succinctly and that one word
was sufficient to cause sturdy captains, and even one
nonhuman, to pale. He waited as accusations and
counter-accusations bounced about the hall, noticing
hands going to belts that were, by station regulation,
empty of accustomed defensive implements. This time
it was Channa who brought them back to order.

Adjusting the volume on her microphone to the
highest notch, she bellowed, "SIT DOWN!"

"As you were," Simeon said sweedy. "Could we con-
sider any further riots as done and noted, and not
waste valuable escape time? As I started to explain, a
complement of four, heavily armed, pirate ships were
in pursuit of the colony ship that... ah... docked here
yesterday. Having ascertained details from the sur-
vivors of that vessel, we are reliably informed that these
pirates were in hot pursuit We are given the distinct
impression that these pirates will either destroy the sta-
tion immediately, or strip it of everything valuable and
then destroy it We have to evacuate as many as possible,
which isn't that many, even if you are generous in your
assistance. But you're all we have to save as many as we
can. Sorry."

"You're sorry?" the bulldog was on his feet again.
"You're sorry! I'm supposed to leave my cargo behind
for pirates and you're sorry? Well, Fm sorry, too, cause
'sorry* don't pay no bills!"

"Captain ... Bolist," Channa said smoothly, check-
ing the list on her notescreen, "you're telling me that a
cargo of,.. chemical salts is more important to you

than saving the lives of forty children, which is the
umber that can be accommodated on the size of vessel
you command?"

The man lowered his head, like a bull considering a
charge. "Ms. Hap, me and mine worked for forty years
to get the Gunf /fo.T*(e're still paying off our loans.
Losing a major cargoÑwell pay forfeits if we don't get
the load to Kobawasltfet FillesÑcould break us. Then
we'll be on the beach. Hell, I like kids s'much as the
next guy, but a man's gotta live."

"Well, then, Captain, you'll be pleased to know that
children are much lighter than chemical salts.
Exchanging one for the other should get you well out
of the danger zone in excellent time." Channa gave
him a pleasant smile, and held his gaze until the man's
eyes dropped. "Yes, you have a question?" And she
pointed to the shaven, tattooed captain who had
leaped to her feet, waving both hands to be heard.

When the question of how to deal with pregnant
women giving birth on her ship was satisfactorily set-
ded by assuring her of a trained medic in her
consignment, she subsided.

In the end, all capitulated, but nine begged a few
hours' leeway to ditch and buoy-mark such cargoes
that a period in space wouldn't damage beyond use.

"Phew," Simeon said as the captains walked out.
"That was unpleasant."

"Not by comparison," Channa said grimly.

"Comparison to what?"

"Announcing it to the station," she said.

"Oh."

"You are shitting me, Joat," Seld Chaundra said
scornfully. "Pirates! What do you think I am? A play-
school kid?"

Ks, Joat thought. "I am not lying, shit-for-brains,"
she said.

1

172

AmieMcCaftrty& SM. Stirling

They were in Seld's quarters, which were comprised
of a bedroom and study, off his father's suite near the
main sickbay in North Sphere. The study was
crammed with ship models and holoposters, most of
them from travel catalogues but a few from adventure
serials. Joat particularly liked the ofee of the bug-eyed
man screaming in the jaws of one fanged head of a
three-headed monster which waved him above the
rubble of a burning building. Curiously enough, the
man resembled the captain who had won her from her
uncle.

"Gimme another bar," she added. Seld flipped it
over from the sofa w^here he sprawled. Joat caught it
out of midair and discarded the wrapper on the floor.
Seld winced but said nothing.

"How can you eat so many of those things?" he asked
as she gobbled it

"Gotta eat 'em while the getting's good," she replied,
chewing with her mouth open. He winced again. He's a
wuss, she thought. "Anyway, they're supposed to be
here soon."
"Suuuuure."

Suddenly Seld was tumbled backward against the
back of the sofa. He gave a strangled squawk as Joat's
thin strong hands, crossed at the wrist, gripped his
jacket below the throat. Her bony knuckles dug pain-
fully into his windpipe. He couldn't breathe at all, as
she was also kneeling on his stomach.
"Look, you wuss Ñ"
"I am not a wuss!" he wheezed.
"Ñ and I am not shitting you! Here." She let him up,
marched over to his work table and slapped a chip on
the receiver plate of his screen. It lit, showing the con-
trol lounge and Simeon's pillar, the shouting captains
surging around it

Seld listened open-mouthed. "Pirates," he concurred
weakly. "Hey! That's private, you stole that chip!"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

173

"Did not, just jacked the feed and copied it"

"Unauthorized copying is stealing, Joat. And
eavesdropping on official meetings is..." Seld trailed
off, unable to identify the offense though he knew it
must be one.

fordting wuss, shethbilght He sounds just like fas father
¥when he says things lifo 'that. Yet his father was a lot nicer
than hers had been.,Her memories of paternal care
were the kind you woke up at night sweating from.
Hopefully he was dead from Jeleb nightmare-smoke
by now. Her uncle had been worse, after he took her
over, but at least she knew her uncle was dead. She
pushed such thoughts aside as time wasters.

"Okay, I'm a Sondee mud-puppy eavesdropper and
data-banditÑso listen to what they're saying, will you?"

Seld blinked and did so. "Holy shit," he whispered.
"We are going to be attacked by pirates." His eyes lit.
"Hey, Joat, this is like a holo."

Joat kicked him.

"What did you do that for?" he demanded,
outraged.

"Because I like you, fool," she said.

"You do?" he said, straightening up and then winc-
ing. "Hell of a way to show it, ferdler."

"Fardler yourself. This ain't no holo, Seld. Those
pirates, those Kolnari, are for real. Half the outies on
that ship that nearly dipped the station were dead, osco.
That's d-e-a-d, dead, finished, off to the big tax-haven
in the afterglow, dead. This is major criminal we're talk-
ing, Seld. Like, we could get seriously fardled up Ñ
you, me, Simeon, Channa, your dad."

"Yeah," Seld said, in a small voice, looking totally
scared. "But what can we do?" That word came wob-
bling out as Seld tried not to show Joat how tightened
he really was.

"Come close and listen to momma," she said.
"Simeon has some ideas. I got more."

174

Anne McCaffny fcf SM. Stirling

***

Rachel bint Damscus sat and shivered on the edge of
the bed. There was nothing under it. Not even legs to
hold it up, just some sort of field mechanism, yet it did
not move. She shivered again, looking down at the pill
in her hand. The strange dark man1 they called Doctor
Chaundra had given it to her, saving that it would
make her feel better. She didn't want to feel better. She
wanted to feel pain, because pain told her she was still
alive.

Her eyes flicked around the little cubicle. There was
a sink in the corner. She darted to it and threw the pill
down the drain, scrabbling at the unfamiliar controls
until a gush of water followed it. Then she scrambled
back to the bed, humiliatingly conscious of how the
thin hospital gown revealed her body. Conscious also
of the emotions roiling beneath the surface of her
mind, like great boulders grinding and moving in the
dark....

/ wish I was home, she thought desolately. But home
was gone, further than all the light-years between this
accursed place and the sun Saffron. Home had been in
Keriss... Keriss was poisoned dust floating in Bethel's
skies. Mother, she thought, father. Little sister Delilah.

Most of the other Bethelites who escaped had been
from the Sierra Nueva lands. Amos' family had been
direct descendants of the Prophet, members of the
Synod of Patriarchs for twenty generations. They had
owned the city of Elkbre outright and tens of
thousands of square kilometers around it. And they
had always been an enlightened family, as much as any,
more than most. Hence, the Second Revelation had
spread widely there. Rachel had come to it late. After I
heard Amos speak, she thought, burying her face in her
hands. He was like the Prophet come again. A new voice,
sweeping away the intolerable stuffy load of conven-
tion. And he is so beautiftd....

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

175

The partition door opened. Joseph came through
first, one hand under the flap of his jacket as was his
custom- Amos followed, and Rachel flung herself for-
ward into his arms, gripping him fiercely. It was a
moment before she felt the awkwardness with which
he pattediier back. Site withdrew, clutching at the
gown. That only emphasized its skimpiness, and she
flushed deeply, looking down at the floor.

"Pardon, excellent sir," she said.

He made a dismissive gesture. "No need to be for-
mal, Rachel," hesaid. "You are well?"

"Relieved," she said. "They would only say that you
would return, but not where you had been taken or
why. Where have you been?" She raised her eyes
anxiously to his fece.

He hesitated for a moment 'Joseph and I have been
meeting with the station managers. We have arranged a
funeral service for those who died on our journey here.**

She turned aside to spare his embarrassment. "They
are not to be trusted."

"What do you mean, Rachel?" His tone was
apprehensive but also stern.

"Nothing, yet," she said sullenly, hanging her head.
Then she grasped his wrist painfully tight, meeting his
eyes earnestly. "But who knows? They are mezamerin."
Strangers. In the ancient liturgical language, infidel.

"Rachel, do not start parroting the Elders at this late
date," Joseph said in exasperation. More gently, he put a
hand on her shoulder. "Did you take the medication?"

"Yes," she said brusquely, shrugging off bis hand.
Then she turned to Amos with a sigh. "I am sorry,
Excell...Amos."

The memory swept over her again: the crowded
chamber and the sickly-sweet taste at the back of her
mouth as the coldsleep injection took effect

"I... thought I had died, when I woke here," she
said. "My father... did I tell you?"

176

Anru McCa/jrey fc? 5M. Stiriing

"No," Amos said, taking her hand. His large dark-
blue eyes held a sudden compassion. "He cursed you?"

"Yes. When I left home to follow you, he put the
Patriarch's curse upon me: hell, and miserable rebirth,
and damnation again, forever."

Amos blanched slighdy for, though his father had
been disappointed in his son, even appalled by his son's
apostasy, he had not uttered th^-curse. Perhaps that
would have come about had his father not died during
Amos' early teens. If I had been cursed? Perhaps that was
why I, fatherless, could become the leader of the Second Revela-
tion, he thought. What courage my followers had, to dare the
curse for me!

"I thought I was damned indeed," she whispered.
"Since I awoke ... I... I really do not feel myself,
Amos."

"It is to be expected," he said, patting her cheek.
"You will feel better soon."

"And did you tell them of what follows us?" she
asked, blurting out the words since his touch had given
her the courage to speak them. "Have they defenses?"

Joseph had been brooding, facing slightly away.
Now he laughed bitterly. "Defenses? These people are
as open as a canal-side harlot"

Rachel drew a shocked breath.

"You forget yourself, Joseph," Amos said as Rachel
drew closer to his side, an instinctive move toward his
protection. "There is a lady present."

The shorter man bowed. "Apologies, Excellent Sir,"
he replied stiffly. A deeper bow." My lady."

"I cast your own words back, my brother Ñ do not
imitate the Elders," Amos said. Unnoticed, Rachel
stiffened.

"Is it true?" she said. "They have no defenses?"

Amos nodded, his mouth drawn into a line. "Yes.
These are peaceful people, as we were. Fortunately,
they are in communication with the Navy of the

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

177

Central Worlds. Unfortunately, the Kolnari will be
here before that help arrives."

Rachel gasped. "How can we flee Scorn here?"

"We cannot," Amos replied, shrugging away the
chance of flight. "There are ships, but they are small
and have no facilities f&r passengers. Children, those
with child, and the infirm are to be evacuated. The rest
of us must remain here and seek to delay the enemy."

They will know us!" she said in a trembling voice.

Joseph shook his head. "I think not, Lady bint
Damscus," he said formally. "Not in this place, and
among such as inhabit it. Already we have seen more
races of men than I knew existed outside legend. Some
very different customs," he pulled his mouth down in
disapproval, "and non-men as well."

Rachel's eyes went wide. The most cogent incentive
for the Exodus to Bethel had been the Prophet's deter-
mination not to pollute the pure blood by congress
with non-humans. Nonhuman intelligence was the
creation of Shaithen, whether flesh or machine.

Joseph made a soothing gesture. "They are not
rulers here. Still, among so many and so various, our
handful will disappear and not be remarked by the
Kolnari for what we are. The fiends must believe that
they strike without warning, that no help will be called
to this station. So they will wait, thinking to feast at their
ease. Then the warships will come, to rescue us Ñ and
return us to our poor Bethel."

"Yes," she said, thoughtfully. "I had not thought of
... returning."

"In a sense," Amos began, and her eyes snapped back
to him with a fixed attention, "we have won the war. Now
we must try to survive it Please, Rachel my sister, would
you go among the other women and children? They are
awakening, and will be lost and frightened. Prepare
those who are eligible to leave here."

MI obey, Amos." She looked around, realizing that

178

Arme McCaffny 67 SM. Stirling

she could not go even among women and children of
her own people in what she wore.

Joseph opened one of the closets and handed her a
large, shapeless robe. Rachel nodded a distant thanks
before she donned it and left, thej|ull folds sweeping
behind her.

"We have something we shares-she and I," Joseph
said bitterly, throwing himself down in his float chair.
Even his solid bulk did not make it bob on its support-
ing field. Amos noted the feet and filed it

7 must make a quick review^he thought. Find what tech-
nologies have arisen during our isolation on Bethel. Whatever
supports the chaircould be altered to support otherheavyweights.

"What do you share?" he asked the other man.

"We both aspire above our stations, she and I,"
Joseph replied.

Amos blinked in surprise. "Oh," he said after a
moment. "Sits the wind so? I had thought her merely
devoted to the cause."

"So she is, but that is not the whole story."

"Even if we followed the old customs, I would not
take her even as a second wife," he said with a dismis-
sive shrug. "Since I have not even a first, speculation is
useless." Then he raised one eyebrow. "You have not
pressed your suit?"

"Was there time?" Joseph asked rhetorically. Then
he sighed. "Amos, could you see me going to her father
for permission? Bastard son of a whore and a docksidepimp
he would have called me, whether he had disowned
her or no Ñ and it would be no more than the truth."

Amos laughed grimly and thumped his follower on
the shoulder. "Joseph, my brother, you are a bold man
who has saved my life more than once. But there are
times when you allow your birth to blind you as much
as any hidebound Elder."

At Joseph's puzzled look, he continued. "Joseph,
where did Rachel's father live?"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

179

"KerissÑah! I see."

"Where did the Elders live, for the most part?"

"Keriss Ñ and those that did not, they were in the
city for the council meeting," Joseph said. "You have
had rime to think,_eh?"

"It is necessary tfiat*someone do so," Amos said. "We
of the Second Revelation were planning to leave, to
escape the bonds-of customs gone sterile in their
changelessness, Joseph. When Ñ ifÑ we return to
Bethel with the Space Navy at our backs, very litde will
remain unchanged after what the Kolnari have done.
God has given us a sharp lesson. If we ignore the
universe, the universe will not necessarily ignore us.
And on Bethel... the last shall be first, and the first,
last; that at the very least.

"Furthermore," he went on, with a man-to-man
grin, "I now stand in her father's place, in law. I hereby
formally give you leave to press your suit, and for the
marriage portion, I will dower her with the Gazelle
Rancho at Twin Springs."

Joseph's laughter matched his leader's. "I may press,
but I doubt she notices my existence," he said. "Con-
sent may be as far away as the Rancho." A pause.
"Although that is where I would take her to live, if we
were wed and our cause victorious. She is stronger
than she suspects, I think Ñ but her liking for the new
ways you preach is of the head, not here." He touched
his heart. "As lady of an estate, there would she be
happy. She would not thrive among strangers."

CHAPTER

TJN

"Detection. Ship track."

Belazir t'Marid looked up from his crash couch
wjiere he had been rerunning a tactical manual on the
screen.

"What signature?" he said.

"Ion track, very feint," Baila said. "Could have been
weeks ago."

Belazir ran his hand through the long blond mane of
his hair and cursed inwardly. The second m two days, he
thought They were getting into well-traveled space,
despite the feet that their data showed little or no setde-
ment in this area. The centuries-old Grand Survey
reports listed no inhabitable planets, although there
was a nebula with potentially valuable minerals. There
must be a regular traffic now, perhaps habitats or small
space colonies. Dangerous, very dangerous.

A time would come when the Kolnari would not
have to skulk around the fringes of known space,
hiding like scavengers. But that time was not yet

"Reduce speed," he said. "Pulse message to the con-
sort ships. Keep formation on new vector." Trjat form of
communication was so short-range that it was undetec-
table. "Anything more on the subspace monitors?"

"Plenty of nearby traffic, but mostly encrypted," the
intelligence officer said. Belazir nodded. Perfect codes
were an old phenomenon, available to anyone with
decent computers.

"And the prey?" he asked.

Baila shrugged. As she was almost as well-born as

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

181

Belazir, he decided to let the informality pass
unreprimanded. Also, she was daughter to a staff
officer of Chalki/s.

"The track is firm'and hot," the woman said. "We
gain, at an increasing rate. Signs of deterioration, as
one would exjSerffrom old engines heavily stressed Ñ
sublimated particles from exterior drive-coils and cool-
ing vanes. She cannot survive much longer."

"Much longer, much longer! You've been saying that
for days!" Belazir snarled, starting half-erect. The
junior officer's eyes dropped before the captain's lion
stare. Belazir sank back, satisfied that deference had
been restored.

"Transmit to all vessels," he went on. "Maximum
alertness. We strike hard and then we run. Plasma tells
no tales."

"Dad, I'm not going," Seld Chaundra flatly told his
fether.

The head of SSS-900-C's medical department looked
up in surprise. For a moment, he tried to fit the words into
a context that made sense as his hands continued auto-
matically packing a carry-all for his son's trip. Then he
shook his head. He was very tired. Since the
announcement was made two days ago, there had been
absolute chaos in the station. Literal chaos in some
instances, and sickbay was full of injuries, everything from
carelessness through flare-ups to attempted suicide.

"Do not make troubles now, son," he said. "There is
too much to be doing."

"I'mnot going, Dad," Seld said again.

Gods, but he looks like his mother, the doctor thought
with despair. She had had exactly that set to her jaw
when she decided to stand on an issue of principle. And
I could never convince her of her error when she looked like
that, either. Fortunately, he did not need to convince his
son, who was still a minor.

182

Arme McCaffrey &? SM. Stirling

"Yes," Chaundra said, "you are going. I need SOT you
to go."	'

"Well, I need for me to stay!"

Chaundra grabbed his son by his upper arms and
shook him gendy. "You're all I've got, Seld. You're the
most important thing in my life ana I've got to keep
you safe.** He pulled out his ace,, "It's what your
mother would have wanted.**

Seld's red-headed temper flared and, for the first
time in his twelve years, he contradicted his father. "No,
she wouldn't! She'd say what.I'm gonna say. You're all
Fue got, and if you can't be safe dien I've got to be with
you!"

He pulled his son to him in a fierce hug to hide the
sudden glisten of tears in his eyes. Then he sank into
his armchair, covering his eyes with his hand.

"Yes," he said thickly, "that's just what she'd say.
But," he pointed a finger at Seld, "she'd be talking
about herself, not about you."

"Dad..."

"I have packed one change of clothes, two changes of
underwear and one," he held up one finger for
emphasis, "thing you can't bear to part with. I'll be back
in half an hour to walk you to the ship."

"Dad!**

"Half an hour." He stood and left. There are times
when a man must weep alone.

"Joatl" Simeon said in exasperation, "Answer me! I'd
hate to have to send someone in there to flush you
out"

He heard laughter echo softly then, from some-
where in the ductwork. Damned tunnel rat, he thought
in exasperation. She had rigged the sensor in her room
to show her present and he was still trying to figure out
how it had been done.

"You know they wouldn't find me."

THE Cnv WHO FOUGHT

183

"C'mon Joat, you've got to go. Channa has packed
some of your things. She'll meet you at the lock. You're
one of the lucky ones. You don't have to wear a suit and
travel in the hold for the whole trip."

"Hunh. Done it before.*1

"Well, you don't haife to do it now. Come on! They're
leaving in fifteen Minutes."

"I'm not going." / *

"Perhaps I left something out here? Pirates, heavily
armed, almost certain death and destruction? Did I
mention any of those?"

"You need me," she said simply.

"Yeah," he said slowly after a moment's pause, "but I
think I should do without you for a while.**

Joat came into view, grinning. "You are so soft," she
said and shook her head. "You need me because no
adult except you knows this station the way I do." She
crossed her arms smugly. "This is my home, too, and I
want a crack at defending it Besides, I'm not about to
deliver myself to Dorgan the Gorgon." If she's still alive.
Those demonstrators looked mean. "So here I stay!"

"Joat, is avoiding Ms. Dorgan and the orphanage
worth risking your life for?"

"You better believe it!" That forced an unwilling
chuckle out of Simeon.

"Look, Joat, no more kidding. Channa and I are
fighting for our lives. If we have to worry about you,
too, it might make that last little bit of difference and get
us killed. We catitafford distractions from a kid."

Joat's lips went white. "You fight dirty," she
whispered.

"I fight to win," Simeon replied.

"Well* so do ir Joat shouted. "And Vmotive, aren't I?"
She paused for a moment, breathing hard. Then the
urchin grin came back. "I've got an instinct for this
kinda thing. Trust me." She took a step back and
disappeared.

184

Annt McCaffrfy &?SJlf. Stirimg

I wish I knew how she did that, Simeon thought. It
would, come m handy when the Kolnanget here.

"Channa's expecting you on Boat Deck!" he called
after her.

A voice filtered in from nowhere. "Tell her 1*11 be
seeing her."

¥5;
"Detection ... ship detected! Ship detected! Captain to

the bridge!"

Belazir t'Marid had been kneeling between his wife's
thighs, with a heel in each hand.

"Demonshit!" he swore, diving off the pallet and
toward his clothing. The woman Ñ she was his second
wife, and a third cousin Ñ cursed antiphonally, rolling
away in the other direction.

"The Divine Seed damn them," she said, hopping
on one leg as she stuck the other into her skinsuit.

"Easy for you to say," he snarled and kicked at her,
struggling with the humiliating and acutely uncom-
fortable process of getting into space armor in a state of
arousal. Then he raised his voice. "Battle stations, full
alert Brief me."

"One vessel. Approaching on path of our trajectory,
in normal space."

"Normal space?" he said. The door hissed away as he
trotted out of his quarters which were aft of the bridge
and one deck down.

"Confirmed," Serig said as Belazir stalked into the
bridge. While the captain slept in hostile space, the
executive officer stood the watch. He now rose from
the commander's couch; a squat man for a Kolnar, a
hand below Belazir's height, and muscled like a troll.
"You have the bridge, lord."

"Acknowledged." Belazir felt an obscure comfort as he
slid into the crash couch and let his hands fafl on the con-
trols. And that cold plastic catheter has settled my otherprobtem,
he thought with an inward quirk of the tips. "Data."

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

185

"Vessel is in the one kiloton mass range." The battle
team was on the bridge now, the circular room
brightening as consoles came up to ready status.
"Neutrino signature indicates merchanter-class
engines, presendy running on ballistic. There may be
energy or-kinedc weaj£>ns, but I detect no triggers for
fusion warheads."

"Interesting," Belazir said calmly. "Serig."

"Command me, lord."

"Indeed. We're going to take a closer look. Prepare
for drop into normal space. Notify the flotilla.**

"Lord..."

"Yes, yes. The primary mission. We are gaining
swiftly and have the time. Also, if we detect this ship, it
may have detected us." The Kolnari fleet had the best
instruments diey could steal or copy, but there was no
telling how much performance had improved in areas
in close contact with regular shipyards. There had
been one or two nasty surprises like that before in the
Clan's history. "If they have, all the more reason to
investigate and make sure they have no tale to tell
anyone."

"Prepare for breakthrough." Alarm chimes tinkled
and sang. "Thirty seconds, mark."

A twisting at the fabric of the universe; the view on
the exterior screens did not change Ñ the computers
compensated during FTL running Ñ but a subtle
sense of reality returned, something at the corner of
the mind.

Serig's voice spoke beside Belazir. "Lord, we have
her on electromagnetic detectors. No answer to hail-
ing. Shall we use the kinetics?"

Their relative velocities were in the thousands of
kps; solid shot would strike with nuclear force.

"Not yet," Belazir said thoughtfully. "Give me a
visual."

The image sprang out before him a few seconds

186

Amu McCaffny &? 5M. Stirling

later. There was a noticeable lag now that they were
confined to Einstein's universe. A flattened spheroid,
quite a small ship. Fairly fast, from the size of the
exterior coils; neatly made, nearly new. And totally
unarmed, as far as the detectors cguld determine. Cer-
tainly not meant for rapid transit in atmosphere as a
Kolnari warship of that size woul^rbe.

"They have a small laser," Serig said. "Meteorite-
clearing type. Apart from that, nothing."

"Is she dead?"

"The cabin is at sixteen-degrees," he replied, and
touched a control. The screen's image split. A motded
double of the ship appeared, infrared scanning to
show temperatures.

"But no reply to our hail," Belazir mused, tugging at
his lower lip. "This is too interesting to pass by. All
ships, establish zero relative velocity and stand by."

"Great Lord." The communications officer. "The
Age of Darkness is hailing, imperative code."

"Put her through." Belazir nodded to himself; exactly
what he would expect A face that might have been his
brother's flashed into a screen on his couch-arm.

"Aragiz tfVarak," the man said. Equal-to-equal greet-
ing, full personal and subdan-name. Socially correct as
the t'Varak were one of the noble gens of the High
Clan, but a military solecism. One of the problems of a
family business.

"t'Varak," Belazir said, reminding him of it. In a
social situation, he would have replied with his own fufl
name.

"Why are we halting?" Belazir waited. "Sir."

"Because there is a potential prize of great value
here," Belazir said mildly. "In any case, we must deal
with it"

"A missile is quick." And father Chalku is impatient: the
unspoken thought was plain enough.

"A missile is wasteful," Belazir said. He grinned for

THE cnr WHO FOUGHT

187

an instant. Aragiz looked slightly alarmed. "But your
objection is noted. You will not, therefore, insist on
sharing in the prize creditÑyou or your ship."

Now Aragiz's face was unreadable black iron. Fool,
the captain of £helMk thought Everyone on the^4gÈ
would be'monitoring mis, as the Bride was broadcasting
in ship-to-ship dear. An intact merchantman could be a
prize of great worth, particularly a new, fast ship,
suitable for conversion to a family transport or an
assault carrier. No matter how well-born or ruthless, a
captain could not afford to alienate the common crew
too badly; not to mention the relatives who would fill
most of the command positions.

TVarak had just sharply reduced his chances of sur-
viving to flag rank. Belazir's hand cut off his protests
and the intership screen.

"Serig," he said, allowing himself a slight feral smile
of satisfaction. "You will take the assault team. One
boat, three fighters. Full monitor at all times."

Serig grinned, white against his ebony face. Being
petit-noble, he could afford such open enjoyment at
the t*Varak's discomfiture.

"Perhaps there will be a scumvermin woman
aboard," he said.

The lock cycled open.

Serig na Marid signed behind himself* on the count of
three. He felt good, loose and easy and fast, the plasma
gun in his hands an extension of his body. Nothing else
felt quite as good as the tension just before combat: not
sex or wealth or satisfied revenge. The knowledge that
his lord would be observing through the helmet pick-
ups was an added bonus. Whatever he accomplished
would not be just another small byte in the chaotic
melee of large-scale destruction: it would be uniquely
his, with commanders and officers on all four ships
watching.

188

Aime McCaffrey fc? SM. Stirling

4Now!'

Swiftly, smoothly, the three figures in dark combat
armor swung into the lock. The deck rang under their
boots as they landed in the interior field.

"Still no sign of reaction," Seric said. "Field is point
six-three GK." Kolnari gravities, mat was. It was 1.0 G
Terran, the old human standard. "Pressurizing.''

Serig dropped to a three-point" stance on the floor,
fingers of his left hand, toes ofboth feet, knees bent Tlie
two ground-fighters were on either side of the airlock.
The inner portal was of standard form, circular, with a
seam down the middle where the leaves met Air hissed
into the lock, and the light went from vacuum-flat to a
warmer, yellow tone. Much like that on some planets he
had seen, although the Kolnari fleet still kept the harsh
brightness of their vanished homework!.

-

The leaves snapped back. In the same instant Serig
vaulted forward, plasma rifle ready. A single octagonal
corridor lay in front, ending five meters ahead in a
T-junction. He went to ground just before the intersec-
tion and pressed a thumb to the stock of his weapon. A
long stiff thread extended out, and Serig keyed the
image it carried onto his faceplate. More empty cor-
ridor, this time running north-south through the main
axis of the ship. Again octagonal, 2.0 meters in
diameter, with a synthetic fabric covering on the
"down" side and the ceiling; extruded synthetic sides,
luminous at regular intervals, and recessed hatchways.
Another door was at the north end of the corridor with
a keypad, and a duplicate at the south.

A careful one second later the two backups leapt past
him, facing either way. They waited in silence, eyes
flickering in trained patterns.

"Nothing," Serig said, coming to his feet and walking
into the axial corridor. He glanced down at the
readouts on his gaundet

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

189

"Air is Terran-standard basis." Thinner than Kolnar,
but with more oxygen and less sulfurk acid and ozone.
Homeworld had much ozone at the surface, little in the
stratosphere. "Slightly depleted oxygen levels, high
level of necrotic decav products. Wouldn't like to have
to breath'it" * j.

"Proceed" Belazir's.voice said.

"As you command, lord," Serig replied. In the lan-
guage of Kolnar, that phrase was one word.
"Proceeding up axialcorridor now."

Almost all human-made ships still had a notional
"bow" at the north pole, and that was the most com-
mon location for a bridge. Serig directed his
subordinates forward with hand signals. They moved
from one compartment to another, opening each,
checking inside with a vision thread and then going on
to the next

"Sensors detect no live presence," Serig reported.
They moved forward again, two covering the one
exposed, up to the small ship's control center. "These
chambers appear to be staterooms, lord, presently
disused."

"Better and better," Belazir's voice said. That implied
extensive life-support facilities.

The north-end hatch yielded to the same simple
random-number code as the exterior entranceway.
The control chamber was a domed hemisphere with
three couches, only one occupied. It had half-closed
around the pilot's body in a coldsleep cocoon, not fully
deployed.

Serig moved to look down at the body.

"You were right; a woman," Belazir said dryly.

"Not one that appeals to me," his second-in-com-
mand replied. "Tshakiz, get a tissue sample." He was
glad for the filtered, neutral air that flowed through his
helmet

The rotting flesh slid greasily away from the probe.

190

Arm£McCaffrey& SM. Stating

Serig looked elsewhere, touching the controls with
slow caution. The shrill accented voice of the Medical
Officer broke in. That was a low-status occupation, arid
the man was the gelded son of a slave mother.

"Subject has been dead approximately four days,"
he announced. "Scan, please, my great lords."

One of the ground fighters detached a sensor wand
from her belt and ran it slowly frorn head to toe of the
corpse. A minute's silence followed.

"Preliminary analysis: death from overdose of
coldsleep drugs, combined with oxygen starvation and
dehydration when cocoon failed to properly deploy."

Serig nodded. On single-crewed vessels the pilot
would often use coldsleep, relying on die AI systems to
handle the simple and tedious work of long interstellar
transits. Slightly risky, but it saved lifespan.

"Ship systems are live," Serig said. "Cryptography,
please." He punched a jack into the receptor and
waited while the powerful machines on the Bride
worked on the guardian programs of the enemy ship.
"Worm is through. I have control of the computer."
That was simple, he thought. Not much computer
security at all, and...

"Ah! Lord? The coldsleep system was sabotaged."

"How wicked," Belazir said, and they shared a
chuckle. "Why?"

"A moment, lord. Yes, by the dugs of the Dreadful
Mother! This is a commercial courier. The female was
an agent for some merchant house, traveling with
samples. She boasts of making the 'sale of a lifetime' at
her most recent stop, a nexus-station designated SSS-
900-C. Some rival did it"

"It was the sale of her lifetime," Belazir said.

This time Serig could hear more laughter in the back-
ground. He turned sharply to his assistants. "Nobody told
you to stop working" he barked. "Divine Seed of Kolnar!
Lord, I have accessed the cargo manifest!"

THE dry WHO FOUGHT

191

He could hear Belazir grunt like a man belly-
punched as the figures and data scrolled across to the
Kolnari warships. Computers and computer parts;
engineering software; fabrication systems; drugs;
luxury consumer items, wines, silks...

"And lord! Thfe cJrgo compartments have full
climatic controll" *

Rigged for the carrying of delicate cargo? That
made the vessel beyond price to the Clan. With
climate-controlled holds, she could be easily and
cheaply rqrigged to hold families or troops in
coldsleep.

Belazir's voice grew sardonic. "Captain t'Varak, I
hope you are satisfied." Nothing came over the circuit
but the sound of teeth grinding. One of the other cap-
tains did venture a comment

"Does this not seem too much like the answer to a
prayer?" he murmured. "I sacrifice much to my joss
and the ancestors, vessels of the Divine Seed, but..."
The joss help the strongest fist, the saying went

"Under other circumstances, Zhengir t'Marid,"
Belazir answered him coolly, MI might agree. But
cousin, who could know we forayed in this direction?
Only those we pursue, and they press forward in a dis-
integrating hulk with no communications capability
since we blew it away." Command snapped in his voice.
"Serig. Secure the ship. Discard the corpse and flush
the environmental systems. Are fungibles adequate?"

"More than adequate, Great Lord," Serig said, ham-
mering the glee out of his voice. My gods! My greed! he
thought A full percentage point would be his as noble-
in-command of the boarding party. My lord is well
pleased with me, he decided. He must, to give his bastard
half-brother such an opportunity. Petit-nobles had
been translated to full status for less.

"There is plenty of air," he went on. "Surplus water.
The pilot never awoke to renew."

192

Anne McCaffny fc? 5M. Stirling

"Good. Await the prize crew ÑAlyze b'Marid will com-
mand it Ñ and then return. Expedite! We will resume
superluminal in less than an hour, or skin will be
stripped."

Alyze was the commander's new third wife. Serig
suspected she might be pregnanl^and Belazir anxious
to have her out of harm's way before even the slight
danger at the end of their chase, He nodded to himself.
Such was good noble thinking, for a man's honor was
in the diffusion of his portion of the Divine Seed.

"Hearkening and obedience, lord," he said. And this
SSS-900-C will also be in the path of our pursuit, Serig
thought Iwill light ten sticks to my personal joss in apology.

He had kicked the litde idol across his cabin in anger
when he learned they were to be sent on a lootless,
honorless pursuit mission while their comrades and
clanfolk plundered Bethel. It seemed he had been
premature.

qdipTERELEVEN

"Told ya/'Joat said.

"Yes," Seld Chaundra said, turning his head aside.

The transit levels of SSS-900-C were still chaotic and
barely-suppressed panic was rampant Squads of weep-
ing children pressed by, herded by an adult with a child in
her arms. A caterpillar of toddlers held on to a cord which
was tethered to a few protesting sub-adolescents.

Joat and Seld were off to one side in the shadows of
an access bay. There were many at the upper globe's
north pole, what with the pumping and docking
facilities and the multiple feeds needed. The
housekeeping programs were laboring overtime,
pumping odors of pine, sea-salt and wildflowers into
the air. It still smelled of vomit and unchanged diapers
and fear, and the baffles only muted the roar of voices.
The two teenagers stepped backward as a man wearing
the arm-band of a part-time policeman went by.

"I hate running out on my dad like this," Seld said in
achoked voice. "He'sgonnakillmejoat"

"No, the pirates may kill you, but all he can do is slap
you around."

Shocked, the boy looked up. "Dad never hits me!"

"Well, then you've got a pretty good dad, and you're
not running out on him Ñ you're staying with him. 'S
what you wanna do, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He turned his face to the wall. "I can't go...
my mom...." he said in a fierce tone. "I never saw her
again... I woke up and she was just... gone."

Surprised at herselfÑ she generally hated to touch

194

AwuMcCaffrey &$M. Stating

people Ñ Joat put an awkward arm around his
shoulders. He clutched at her for a moment, sobbing.

"Sorry about blubbering," he said after a moment
Then he grew conscious of the bearhug grip he was
exerting, and broke away.	^

" "Salright," Joat said. Somehow it is, she thought, then
flogged her mind back to practifjal matters. "Need a
snot-rag?"

"Thanks." He blew noisily on the one which she offered
andthengaveitbacktoher. "What do we do now?"

"We get out of sight. Channa's going to go ballistic,
and she's nearly as hard to hide from as Simeon.
Worse, 'cause I can't screw up her sensors."

"There she is," he said.

Joat's head whipped around. The noise was reach-
ing tidal proportions around the tall lean figure of
Channa Hap. Only the escort of Vicker's security per-
sonnel kept her from being bowled over in the crowd.
She had a canvas carrier bag in one hand. Joat
recognized the foot of the stuffed bear sticking out
one side.

"That satisfies the letter of it," she said. "Let's go."

Channa stalked into the lounge, opened the door to
Joat's room and flung the canvas bag she carried as
hard as she could against the room's far wall. It made a
solitary spot of disorder in the servo-neat room. Then
she shut the door and walked stiffly to her desk, sat
down and began keying through her messages, back
hunched in rejection.

"It's not my fault," Simeon finally ventured to say.

She turned slowly to glare at his column.

Oooh, Vrnglad this is titanium crystal, Simeon thought.
Now, if only there was something similar available for the
psyche.

Just as slowly, just as silendy, Channa turned back to
her console.

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

195

Simeon sent her a message that read. "I'm sorry you
had to go through that scene at Disembarkation."

Channa let outan exasperated little hiss and slapped
the screen. Simeon's image appeared on it, wincing
realistically. - * *i

Unwillingly, a srrule quirked at her mouth. "Simeon,
I would have been tljere anyway, to speak words of
encouragement, to wish well, to shake hands, to show
solidarity." She swung a fist in a go-get-'em gesture.
"But I would have had a lot more credibility if I hadn't
been standing there with an overnight bag in my hand.
Did you see the suspicious looks I got? Half of the
evacuees probably think I'm on one of the other ships.
You could have said something, a quiet word of warn-
ing in my ear, as it were. Then I could have dumped
that damned incriminating bag!" She turned to look at
his column again. "Why wasn't she there?"

"She wouldn't go," Simeon said weakly. "Shesaid she'd
see you. I thought she meant there at the Boat Dock."

"Yourf^?"

"Well, I hoped," Simeon said. "I tried my best to get
her there. Pushed every emotional button I could.
Manipulated shamelessly, you know the way I can."

"Or silver-tongued Simeon slips up again, huh?"

"I can't exactly get out of my shell and chase her
down and hog-tie her, Channa. She wouldn't go. She
told me that we could never find her in fifteen minutes
and she was right. Even you'd have to agree with that.
Trying to manipulate Joat is like trying to suck liquid
hydrogen through a straw."

Channa sighed. "Indeed! But standing there with
that bag was hideously embarrassing for me. Besides, I
really wanted to get her to safety."

"I know how you feel," he soothed her. "This sur-
rogate parent stuff is pretty intense." And it was your
idea, he reminded himself. Oddly, he felt no impulse to
remind her. I guess / fi& &, he decided.

196

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

She ground the beds of her hands into red-rimmed
eyes. "I apologize."

Well, that's a first. "I accept"

"Announce me," Amos ben Sierra Nueva said to the
door.

It hinged softly, and he knew it would be turning to a
screen on the interior, showing his image in real-time.
Such things still made him a little nervous. Bethel had
never used much in the way of sophisticated
electronics. Doors there were usually plain honest
wood. He smiled slightly in spite of himself. Here,
wood was an unthinkably expensive luxury, and the
most advanced technology, the stuff of common life. At
least he had been able to dress properly, from the
baggage somebody threw into the shutde at the last
minute. It was demoralizing to look like some
cottonchopper goatherd from the back lands. Loose
black trousers tucked into his boots, silver-link
belt emphasizing the narrow hips, open robe
throwing his broad shoulders into relief. He bowed
ceremoniously as he entered, sweeping off his beret to
Channa.

"Come in." Channa's voice was flat and tired as the
door opened, but her face Ht in an inadvertent smile of
welcome.

Good, he thought, smiling back. Even in this
desperate hour, it was pleasant to have so exotic and
attractive a woman smile at him. Then he bowed again,
to the column. To Simeon, he forced himself to think.
And tried not to think of the pale deformed thing in
there, among the tubes and neural circuits. Whenever
the image came to him, a slight tinge of nausea accom-
panied it. He was afraid that Simeon could detect his
reaction. He could imagine several sensors that would
make it difficult or impossible to lie to a shellperson.
Guiyon he had never thought of so. Guiyon had always

THE CITY WHO FOUGHTT

197

been there in the background, a sympathetic voice
from his earliest days. Guiyon was my friend.

"I am sorry to disturb you," he began. "Now that the
most urgent tasks are done, I wish to reiterate my
desire to assist in the coming battle."

"When our J5ians art: more solid, I assure you there
will be a place for you in them," Simeon said.

Amos's mouth quirked. You mean, when you've figured
out something we can do, he thought

"We are not trained as soldiers," he said with a self-
deprecating smile and a shrug. "And we are from a
backward world. But," he raised a finger, "I have
thought of something which you both, being so dose to
the matter, may have overlooked." He glanced from
Simeon to Channa and back again. "It is something
that Guiyon said that makes me think of this.

"He said to me, I am one of Central Worlds'most valuable
resources. The Kolnari do not have any brainships in their fleet
and I do not intend to be the first.

"Oh," Channa murmured.

"Hell," Simeon said. "I knew it but I didn't think of it
Brains are so rare, out in the backlands."

"Yes." Amos nodded vigorously. "We must hide the
feet that Simeon exists. Or the/htf thing that the Kol-
nari do will be to cut out Simeon's shell and send it back
to their fleet This must not happen."

"Indeed it must not," Simeon said, his voice slow and
flat AH three of them knew what followed from that If
the Kolnari did get their hands on a brain Ñ one
trained in strategy, at that Ñ it would immediately
change them from a wandering pack of scavengers to a
first-rate menace.

"Simeon would never Ñ" Channa began hody, then
trailed off.

"Yes." Simeon's voice was now as expressionless as a
subroutine robotic. There were dozens of unpleasant
ways of forcing a captive brain to capitulate. The most

198

AimeMcCaffrey & SJVf. Stating

effective was also the worst simply cut offthe exterior sen-
sor feeds which would mean sensory deprivation fugue in
days or less." I tend to forget how... helpless I am, most of
the time," he went on." Forget I'm a cripple, so to speak."

"You are not!" Channa blazed.     *

Amos blinked at the sight. She seemed to bristle, the
widow's peak of her rusty-brown ^air rising. Iwouldnot
like to have this lady wrathful with me, the Bethelite
thought respectfully.

She forced herself to be calm. "Compared to you, we
are cripples, Simeon," she said. "You have a hundred
abilities we lack."

"Thank you," he said in more normal tones. "Still,
what Amos says is true. At all costs, we can't let the Kol-
nari get their hands on me."

The self-destruct sequence surfaced in the minds of
both brawn and brain, like some monster rising from
the depths of the ocean, with a wave of cold black water
sweeping before it.

Amos coughed. "There is a way, I think. We may fool
them. Convince them that there is no brain controller
on this station. If indeed," and his lips peeled back over
his teeth in a nasty grin, "barbarians such as the Kol-
nari even know of such persons.'*

Seeing Channa about to speak, he held up his hand
to forestall her. "Do I assume that Simeon's name
appears on far too many documents or news holos or
whatever, for us to hide his very existence? Also, some-
one is sure to lapse and mention the name, thus giving
rise to questions. So," and he gave his cloak a little
flourish, "I have come to offer myself as a false Simeon.
To deceive them." He looked from one to the other
eagerly. "Is this not a good idea?"

"It's ..." Channa began, and looked at him with
shining eyes. "It's damn brilliant!" She sprang up and
hugged him for a moment, then began to pace, "^"we
can get the substitution to work."

THE cm WHO FOUGHT

199

"Well, it sure beats suicide," Simeon said, for he had
had to consider that as his only option. "One small
point pops up, Amos. I've been here for forty years,
and you're what, twenty-eight?"

"Ah, a valid point tq consider," he said, "but as you
have already pointed pat, during their stay in this sta-
tion, they are unliKely to spend time reviewing its
history. They would have no reason not to accept me as
Channa's assistant. If you feel it is an important con-
cern, we could always tell them that Simeon is a tide, I
could then be the Simeon-Amos."

"Yes," Channa said enthusiastically, "we could
pretend it's a traditional title. A position named after
the first person who held it, an honorific! Why would
they check if we say it is so and has always been? And
that ploy would involve jimmying fewer personnel
records Ñ that's a major plus. Especially with people
who've been here a while. Faking that is like trying to
pull one card out of a tower. Every change means more
changes and pretty soon it cascades out of control"

"There are the transients," Simeon said meditatively.
"Most of them don't bother about who manages what
so long as they're not inconvenienced. We've pretty
near dispatched so many who do know that the ruse
might just work." Simon began to enlarge the concept
of deception. "Mmm, you know, we could use that old
secondary control center that was on-line when the sta-
tion was being built Before I was installed here. These
quarters don't look much like an office. We could say
this is a living accommodation."

"Ah! Then you accept my offer as impostor," cried
Amos. "Excellent! I shall move here as soon as you
require me. Until then, I'd like to remain with my
people. If you do not mind a companion in your lovely
rooms?" he asked, turning swiftly to Channa, con-
cerned that he also might have offended her with his
presumption.

200

Amu McCaffiny &SM. SMmg

~We*H let you know when," she said, a litde dazed.
"Of course," he said. He took her hand and kissed it
tenderly, smiled in Simeon's direction, and left.

Channa stared at the closed doors for a moment,
then turned to Simeon's shaft "Excuse me, but did we
just accept his offer?"	^ ;

"Well, not exactly, but we didn't say no."

"I noticed that. Why not, I wonder?"

Simeon was a little amused at the idea of Channa
being bowled over by another personality. "Hmm.
Maybe because we agree with him?" Slyly: "Or it could
be die pheromones, in your case, Happy baby."

Channa bridled and threw a cushion at the column,
"Get serious. It is a good idea, even if I didn't think of it
first You have to be protected from the Kolnari."

"\es," he said, enduring excruciating embarrassment
at that truth. "Nor can I see any reason not to take him up
on his offer. Maybe having an outsider dose to our coun-
sels will keep us on our toes, so to speak."

Channa gave a litde grunt "As I said, it's a good idea,
but on second thoughts, why Aim? He'd have to learn a
lot in very little time to sound as if he knew what he'd
been doing all this time. I still have trouble finding my
way around, and I not only grew up on a station, I had
time to study the layout of die SSS-900 before I came
here. Why not someone from the station? Someone we
know and have confidence in?"

"I think we can have confidence in him, Channa,"
Simeon said thoughtfully.

"Hunh! Based on what?" she asked challengingly,
hands on her hips.

"Authority usually stems from character, Channa. I've
been watching him with his people, and there's no doubt
that he's the man in charge. TTiey look at him the way
that people look at someone they can depend on. Con-
sider the shocks they've all been through, especially him.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

201

Don't forget he went with Chaundra down to the
jnorgue. Then he came to us with this... viable, I think
plan. We could do worse than accepting his offer.
Besides, who else is there?"
"Since you ask, I was considering Gus."
"And who's gbiitg ixAje Gus, while Gus is being me?"
He watched her cross her arms over her bosom and
frankly pout "We could end up changing every name
in the station if we go that route. What with this and
that, we could get so snarled up, we wouldn't know our
arse ends from bur ears."

She laughed, suddenly visualizing the corridors full
of people checking their noteboards to see who they
were that day.

"Besides," Simeon said, "I like Gus."
"What's that got to do with it?" she replied. "Oh."
Whoever fronted as the station's manager was the
most likely to receive the brunt of occupational hazards.
She liked Gus, and even on such short acquaintance, she
liked Amos. He was undeniably nicer to look at and had
already been through several layers of hell. On the other
hand, somebody had to do it If she was right there beside
him to give j udicious guidanceÑand being beside Amos
was not a chore, maybe they'd get through without any
really bad gaffes.

"All right," she said, raising her hands in capitula-
tion. "Shuffling people around really could become
more difficult than teaching one stranger the ins and
outs of station management. At least enough to fool
these thugs. But, on your enhanced head be it, my
brave brain, if he turns out to be a disaster."

"I accept your challenge, my beautiful brawn. Shalll
have him move in tonight?"

For a moment, Channa looked as though she'd inad-
vertently swallowed something too large and lumpy.
"Ah, of course. We'll have to get his training started
right away, won't we?"

202

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Stating

***

Amos frowned. As attractively as he smiled, Simeon
noted.

Sheesh. When this is over, he could earn megacredits as a
wd-star with Smgari Entertainments, yoking historical.

"But I had wanted to stay with my people," he said.

"I know," Simeon told him, "^*it we're placing the
least injured in their own quarters, effective immedi-
ately, and scattering the rest. We can't risk having them
identified as a group, you know."

The young man clasped his hands behind his back.
"Yes, I see. All will be strange to the Kolnari, in many
different ways. Our strangeness will be one more
anomaly.**

"You're not that strange," Simeon felt compelled to
say. Tbo bloody handsomefor my peace of mind. Or maybe
being that han&ome&stranger'n I realize.

The elevator opened onto the corridor outside
Simeon and Channa's quarters. Channa stood in the
open door of the lounge to greet Amos. She held out her
hand to him, wearing a formal, welcoming smile. He
took her hand tenderly in both of his, bowed over it
gracefully and kissed it gently, his eyes never leaving
hers. Channa raised one brow and smiled crookedly,
taking back her hand and gesturing him into the lounge.

"I know you wanted to stay with the others," she
said, "but there's a lot you'll have to be briefed on, and
we should get started. Also, Simeon may have told you,
they'll be moving to their own quarters this evening."

"Yes, so he has told me," Amos said softly.

He looked at her with a warm attention that she
found unnervingly intimate. "This will be yours," she
said, opening the door farthest from her own.

He entered, looked around, his hands clasped
behind his back once more. He nodded judiciously, "It
is very nice," he said. He opened a closet, empty but for
a few hangers.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

203

"One of the things we'll have to do is fit you out
according to your new position," Channa said from the
doorway.

He smiled at her. "Yes, I need everything. And
Bethel clothing woul(J not be appropriate."

He walked over fp stand right beside her. She had
noticed that the Bemejites did that; their social distance
was close and they were a very tactile people.

"I shall enjoy that," he said, "if you will help me
choose?"

She lowered her eyes. "Perhaps, if time allows.
Though you'll be guided by experts in men's fashions,
which 1 am not." Down, girl' she told herself.

The door chimed and Simeon opened it. "I've sent
down to the commissary for dinner. I doubt you've
found the time to eat, Amos, so I've taken the liberty of
ordering for two," he said.

"You do not like to cook?" Amos asked, turning to
Channa in surprise.

"Not when I have more important things to do," she
answered. "It isn't among my hobbies."

"Ah, well, doubtless your servants are skilled." His
voice implied that a chatelaine should still oversee
them personally.

Ah, good one, Amos. Simeon thought, feeling more
cheerful. He had been reviewing what Kttle was known
of Bethelite culture. He did not think Channa would
find it agreeable. Why don't you ask her to sit on the floor and
rub your tired feet while you're at it, then retire to the rear of the
house while the men talk business?

It was worrying, though. Much as I hate to admit it,
maybe Channa was right. This plan has inherent elements of
disaster. I forgot to take into consideration that he's from an
insular and probablyÑfttbe kind, old-fashioned. Nan! Why
be kindÑbackward culture. All their preparations were a
mishmash of improvisations. Would this be one too
many?

204

AntuMcCaffrey fc? SM. Stirling

Amos looked quickly from Simeon's column to
Channa and said in mild dismay.

"I have caused offense. Please, forgive me. This was
not my intention." He smiled ruefully down at Channa
and sighed. "I clearly have more to learn than I had
imagined. Even my speech Ñ die more we talk, the
more J am conscious of how old-fashioned I must
sound to you. And, forgive me/we of Bethel are not
used to dealing with people of strange Ñ of different
customs. That was one thing I disliked about my home,
the insularity."

Hell, Simeon thought. He's not stupid. Adaptable, in
fact.

With a smooth professional smile, Channa gestured
for him to take one of the seats at the table.

"Then let us begin," she said.

Tb his back she made a small moue of distaste, which
quickly turned into a smile as he held out her chair and
looked at her expectandy. She grinned and waved him
to his seat

"First," she said, "you must learn that we're much
less formal here. We reserve our 'company manners'
strictly for company."

"But," he said, smiling as he took his seat, "a beauti-
ful woman should always be treated like a treasured
guest."

Channa served herself from a platter and passed it to
him, letting go of it almost before he'd gotten a grip on
it

"Flatterer. I'm not ugly, but I'm no great beauty,
either."

He almost dropped the hot platter in surprise, its
contents lilting alarming close to the edge and burning
his thumb. He put it down hastily and sucked the
injury for a moment

"No, truly," he said, flapping his hand to cool it "I
think you are most attractive." There was no doubting

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

205

the sincerity in his wide, gentian-blue eyes. The lashes,
she noticed, were long and curled. His gaze grew play-
ful. "In a strange, foreign, exotic fashion, of course."
"Well, you're very attractive, too, Amos," she said

seriously.
"I like attracrive-wo&en," he said, and his gaze was

subtly challenging. *

"Mmh, I don't like*attractive men," she said posi-
tively. Actually, I don't approve of them, which is not exactly
the same thing, she amended to herself. "They tend to be
spoiled and self-centered and in general much more
trouble than they're worth. Now, let us eat before the
food cools. We have a great deal of work to do and not
much time and energy to spare." She gave him a direct
stare. "I'm sure we're going to have an excellent busi-
ness relationship, manager to manager."

"Of course," Amos said with a neutral, social smile.

"Shouldn't you start calling Amos Simeon-Amos,
Channa?" Simeon broke in, before the atmosphere got
any cooler.

"Good idea," Channa said.

Amos, as far as Simeon could tell, was sulking
slightly.

Aha, Simeon thought With those looks, plus brains and
charisma and high position, he's probably used to women suc-
cumbing to his every ploy. And, he noted charitably, the
Bethelite was only in his early twenties. All the
textbooks said softshells were highly subject to hor-
monal influences at that stage in their pitifully short
development spans.

Nine gets you ten, he told himself, that there's a worn-
down track m the carpet between their doors within a week.
The notion was oddly unpalatable. He put it aside and
launched into some of the nineteen million things
Amos would have to become familiar with about station
management

H CHAPTER TvfeLVE

¥ is

Ahhha, gotcha! Simeon crooned to himself "Channa?
You awake?"

"You can always tell when I'm awake. Why ask?"

"Because it'spoliteS he replied.

"What is it?" Her tone noted that the sleep period
was three hours gone and, in barely five more, she
would have to be awake for more of the interminable
meetings and briefings.

"I've found out something about our expected and
uninvited guests," he went on.

That brought her alert, sitting up in bed and reach-
ing to key up the lights and switch off the soft fugue she
had been playing to court sleep.

"Couldn't sleep anyway," she said. "Let me have it,"

"Got a download from Central. Had to burn some
butts to get it released. It's not much. Planet named
Koinar, settled way, way, way back. Quite a ways from
here, too, as such things go. About forty times as far as
the sun Saffron, further in on the spiral arm."

Channa frowned. "That's really out in the boonies,
settled in the second or third waves."

"Uh-uh. It was first wave."

She pursed her lips in a silent whistle. "Right at the
beginning of interstellar colonization

He went on. "Involuntary colonization. Translation
program running... Okay, a whole bunch of bad-hat
groups; the Kh&nir Reddish Rice Cosmetic, the Temil Large
Striped Felines, the New Council Men, the Resurrected
Aryan-Germanic Statewide Associationist Employees Party,

THE CTIY WHO FOUGHT

207

faeSonsofChaka, the Luminescent Footway, the Darwin-
Wilson Society, the Ñ"

"What's so amusing?" she said as she caught the
laughter ripple in his voice.

"You'd have to be^ajhistorian to understand, my
voluptuous popsfe,"&e said cheerfully. "Anyway,
according to the recprds, they sent out about ten
thousand of these oscos, and about three thousand
reached their destination."

"Bad voyages?"

"Internal fighting in the holds," Simeon said. "With
fists and teeth and soft plastic cups, since they didn't
have anything else. Then when they got there, they
realized they'd have to interbreed, like it or not."

"What son of planet is Kolnar?"

"Nickname was 'Hell's Orifice.' They picked it because
it was easier on tender consciences. Society could
pretend the planet killed the convicts, who deserved it,
from the records. One-point-six gees, hot sun, enormous
heavy-metal concentrations, thick but low-oxygen air,
superactive and largely poisonous biosphere. No ozone
layer. Vulcanism, unpredictable climatic shifts ... the
whole nine yards! Not much visited since. When the
Grand Survey went through a few centuries later, they
were fired on. Evidendy the locals have a nuclear war
about once every forty years or so, and the ship got in the
way of one. Their descriptions of the physical type match
what Amos and the others say. There's been some contact
with them since. That incident with the survey seemed to
remind them that the rest of the universe was still there,
unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

"Well, I've got cross-references under pimcy,
brigandage, police actions, war crimes and aggression. Also
entries in die anthro files under genocide, slavery, cut-
ttiral pathology, xenophobia and societal devolution. There
are apparently pockets of the descendants of the

208

Amu McCaffny 6? SM. Strr&ng

original social aberrants scattered through a number
of systems in the area nowadays. Little asteroid
colonies, freebooter dens, unsurveyed worlds."

"Urk. Characteristics?"

"Apart from not being veryÈnice? Dark skin is a
climatic adaptation Ñ all that Uv Ñ and the hair and
eye color genetic drift you'd expect in a small initial
population. They breed like, limm, rabbits, though.
Puberty at eight, all children twins or triplets. Overall,
the Kolnari subrace seems to have very efficient
immune systems. They're extremely strong and fast.
You'd expect good reflexes on a planet like that Ñ
those with bad ones didn't survive. They can see in the
dark like cats, and they've got an amazing tolerance for
ionizing radiation. There's so much fallout and natural
background radiation on Kolnar that they've geneti-
cally adapted to it. The scientists seem to disagree
whether their paranoia is inbred or just cultural"

"Hard to get rid of, I'd expect,"

"Like cockroaches," Simeon said, deliberately
misunderstanding. "One Space Navy type a few
generations back said the only way to solve the Kolnari
problem would be to drop antimatter bombs from
orbit. Even then, you wouldn't be really sure of
destroying them all."

"Very depressing, thank you, and now can I get
some rest?"

Later that night, still unable to sleep, Channa called
out his name softly.

"You should be sleeping, Channa."

"I know, but I've got to dear my mind first. Will you
talk with me?"

A pause hung in the air. She took a breath and went
on. MI know I haven't been as good a brawn as Ñ"

"Ancient history," Simeon said. "You've been
handling a hellacious emergency better than most

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

209

nyone could. I can certainly listen. What's on your

she said, as if the two words covered the
problem adequately.

"Ah. Not what ycm^xpected, huh?"

She sighed, "Nf; the opposite. Too much what I
expected. He's . . . I'm afraid I won't be able to work

with him."

Why am I not surprised? Simeon thought. "Why?
What's wrong?"

"Aside from his being a smug, pushy, egotist, you
mean? Well, he doesn't have any faith in my com-
petence and I expect to have to fight to keep him from
trying to usurp my position. He's very much a take-
charge kind of person, you were right about that And
he has no respect for women."

"What makes you think that?" Let's hearhowyou came
to that difficult conclusion. Simeon enjoyed the challenge
of following the workings of her mind.

"For crying out loud, Simeon, he expected me to
cook for him! Oh, yes, he got over that. He's always
ready with an apology for 'different customs.' But,
deep down, he doesn't really believe it. He thinks
'customs' is whether you sit on the floor or on a chair,
stuff like that. He doesn't grasp the difference in fun-
damental cultural views."

"Channa-my-sweet, back on Bethel, there aren't any
fundamental differences. This quarrel he had with the
Elders, it's hard to grasp exactly what it was about . . .
but it seems overwhelmingly important to them. "

"Oh, I understand why he's that way," Channa said,
striking the pillow with a frustrated fist. "And it's not as
if he's stupid. He's intelligent and he notices things, but
that makes it more irritating, not less. You could ignore
what a stupid person does. What's more, suddenly he's
living in my pocket I'm just a little surprised he didn't
ask to see the other rooms in order to choose the one

210

Amu McCaffrty 6f SM. Stxrimg

he preferred." Her face suddenly flushed a becoming
rose.

Simeon noted that After all, he could see in the dark,
too. "And he came on to you like the colony ship he flew
in on, didn't he?"

"Damn right he did," she muttered, half under
her breath. "'I like attractive women,'" she said in
exaggerated imitation of his manner and accent.
"What do you suppose he does when he has to deal
with an un-attractive woman? Carry a bag to put
over her head? I hate men like that!" She thumped
the bed with both fists for emphasis.

"I thought you were attracted to him," Simeon said
in a calm and mildly curious tone.

"I am," she said with exasperation. "I hate that part
of it the most."

"I'm a little confused here. How can you be attracted
to someone you can't stand?"

"I don't know," she said grimly.

"Pheromones?" Simeon asked slyly.

"Maybe. It happens." She sighed.

The mysterious pheromones strike again, he thought.
There are times Tm extremely glad Tm a shettperson. At least I
can adjust my own hormone feeds. The thought of having
his biochemistry unpredictably mucked about by emo-
tional factors was nerve-wracking.

"You mean," he said carefully, "this has happened to
you before?"

A look of annoyance crossed her face. "Notjusttoiw.
It's happened to a great many people."

He waited expectantly and patiently.

With a resigned sigh, she went on. "He was a profes-
sor of economics, of all people! I fell for him like a
stone. And the weird thing was, I never liked him.
Quite the opposite. He was attractive enough, but he
was sarcastic and lazy and snide Ñ ugh! Never to me,
but it bothered me to see him doing it to other students.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

211

One day I was sitting there and I looked up at him and
I said to myself, Tm in love with him." She widened her
eyes arid held out her hands in a "go figure" gesture
and let them flop back onto the bed. "Hmmp."

"So... you're in love... with Simeon-Amos?"

"No! Of coufsetiod I said I was in love with my
professor, not Simeon-Amos. They're two different
cases." She started to.laugh. "I'm older and wiser now,
Simeon-Simple."

"As long as you're npt sadder, love."

She chuckJed/"No, not sadder."

"Naturally you and Simeon-Amos will have to
undergo a bit of a period of adjustment," he said
seriously, "but he really wants to help. And he's going
to be very busy helping. That'll go a long way in curb-
ing any ardent tendencies he may have. Try to cut him
a little slack, Channa; he's the victim of an inbred cul-
ture. Besides which, we're all under threat of death."

"Mmm. Tell that to the subconscious Ñ it interprets
threats of death as a reason to get more interested. I do
wish this crisis wasn't so immediate." She sighed again,
wearily. "Maybe they're not out there. Maybe they gave
up and went back to Saffron, to Bethel. All we'd have to
do is file a report, while the fleet floats by us."

"I wouldn't bet on it, babe."

"I must be mellowing," she observed, "I've allowed
you to call me love* and "babe* and... I actually let you
get away with 'luscious popsie,' didn't I?"

"Yeah. I'm counting coup. Maybe you like me?"

"I wouldn't count on it," she said grinning. "Good-
night, Simeon."

"'Night, Channa."

"Oh, God, not another meeting," Channa mumbled
to herself around the light-pencil clenched in her
teeth. In one hand, she held the notescreen she was
studying and, in the other, a cup of coffee. Hot as hell,

212

Anne McCaffrey 6? SJW. StirSag

black as death, sweet as love: not the way she generally
drank her caffeine, but the proper dose to jolt a body
into action after inadequate sleep. For something
stronger, she would have to go taDoctor Chaundra.

"Why meetings?" she continued to herself as she
stumbled into the lift at the end of the corridor. "Why
can't I just send memos?"	i;

"Mornin', honeybunch," Patsy's voice said.
Channa started so violently at the presence of two
other people on the lift that she almost slopped the hot
coflee over her hand. GuÈput a steadying grip under
her elbow.

"Why meetings?" Gus repeated, "because they're
civilians. They're not used to facing a military emer-
gency. They need to be told the information again and
again before it'll seem real to them."

The lift hissed to a stop. "Fortunately, I don't need to
be told so often, so I can get right on with my work," he
said. "See you later, ladies."

Channa looked across at Patsy. The older woman
was leaning into the padded corner of the lift, eyes
dosed and a dreamy smile on her lips. "Patsy?"

One eye opened reluctantly and a sweet smile lightened
herexpression as she stretched languorously. "Yeah?*"
"You look almost as exhausted as I am. Aren't
getting enough sleep?"

Patsy's eyes widened, and she worked her eyebrows
melodramatically. "Not much," she said with some
enthusiasm. "Unless you use 'sleep* in the euphemistic
sense."

"Anhhanh-Gus?"

"Con mucho Gusto!" Patsy giggled. "Ah've read
about this. People in crisis, they jest get together,
y'know? You ask Simeon about it He'll tell ya."

"I wouldn't presume to ask Simeon about private
matters. I suspect he's morbidly fascinated by the sub-
ject Besides, I know what you mean."

Aren't you

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

213

"Ohho! Ah heard about yoah pretty li'l roommate,"
patsy said with a wink. "Hubba hubba." She nudged
Channa with her elbow.

Channa cleared her throat, stuck the light-pencil
over one ear and took^ sip of her coffee. Ghastly, she

thought. "Simeon tolcrme that 'hubba hubba' meant

i j  * ¥*
'sexy lady

"Did he? Well, when he says it, it probably does. No,
really, it jest means somethin1 sexy, anythin' sexy What,
is up to the beholder." Patsy rose onto her toes and
clicked her heels together a couple of times. "Ah think
Simeon-Amos is sexy," she said teasingly.

"Right now you'd think taffy was sexy," Channa said
repressively.

"Oooh, yeah, ya can puulll it..."

"Patsy!"

"Loosen up, girl! If ya get too tense, all yore hair fells
out. Doncha know that?" She grinned and waved as
she got off on her floor.

"Damn," Channa said, leaning against the wall. The
padding held a faint trace of Patsy's body heat. "It's
been entirely too long since I went to work with a smile
like that"

"Great Lord, we cannot determine whether the craft
we pursue left the area of the station or not," Baila said,
tugging at the cupid's bow of her lower lip.

Belazir tapped a meditative thumb against his lower
lip. "Why not?" he said mildly.

The technical officer swallowed. "There is too much
traffic here, lord. Individual trails fade in the back-
ground clutter."

Belazir raised his brows, the only outward sign of an
icy stab of concern. According to their best calculations,
the way the fugitive ship had been pushing its engines,
it should have blown itself to a ball of plasma and frag-
ments long before now. Granted that, in the old days,

214

Aime McCaffrey fcf SM. Stiriing

ships had been built to last, still... If, by unforeseeable
fortune, they reached a well-traveled zone first, the
unthinkable could happen. The Clan would be in
danger. He would be in even mote danger Ñ from the
rest of the Clan.	,

"Computer," he said, the command-voice that slaved
its attention to him. "Extrapolation: the vector of the
prey, matched against last definite location and possible
destinations, as updated from the chardogs of that cap-
tured merchantman."

A spray of possibilities flicked out in the 3-D tank.
"Now, eliminate all those that would require more than
four days' transit from last known location."

All faded but one. "Ah, that station," he said. It was
the most probable search vector in any case. "We must
continue the pursuit. Comments?" he asked the other
captains' faces. They were present by holo, a ghostly
ring effaces on the shadowed command-couches of
their respective bridges, similar to the Bride's.

Aragiz t'Varak, of the Age of Darkness; Zhengir
t'Marid, of the Rumal Ñ Strangler, in the old tongue Ñ
Pol t'Veng, of the Shark, old and scarred and the only
woman among them, the only one with an inde-
pendent command in the Clan fleet. Enemies and
rivals; his ability to make them move in concert was
another test the Clanfathers imposed. That which does
not fall us, makes us stronger, he reminded himself

"Captains and kin," Belazir said. "You have the data.
We must decide whether to continue the pursuit, or
break off. My recommendation is that we continue."

Aragiz's face pushed forward, tensing like an eagle
held by jesses to a hostile wrist "If you had not stopped
to loot, we would be closer on the prey's trail," he said
sharply.

Pol cut through his words with a snort "Irrelevant
We must continue the mission,"

Belazir nodded at her.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

215

"I do not like it," Pol said in her guttural rumble. She
was known to be a canny and prudent commanders.
"Something is just slightly out of kilter." She made a
rocking gesture with the claw-scarred hand.

Belazir considered her remark. What had that con-
tractor Ñ one of the' 4nes the Clan fenced loot to
occasionally Ñ said? "There are bold pirates, and old
pirates, but there are no old, bold pirates."

"Still," she went on, "the balance of risk is clear. We
must know if the prey reached this station. To do that,
we must take it in our fist"

"And if it did?" Aragiz said.

"We kill, send a message torpedo to the fleet, and we
run," Pol said. "With as little as one week's lead, we can
lose the Navy among the stars and dust Nothing is lost
save time."

"And the effort we put into subduing Bethel!" Aragiz
snapped. "Stopping for that merchantmanÑ"

"Was irrelevant and consumed no significant
expense of time!" Belazir said. "In any case, there is a
substantial chance nothing was left alive on the prey-
ship by the time it reached this station. If it did reach
them. In which case, there is the station itself."

"Ah," Zhengir said. He was a close relative, and a
man of few words. "Atargetofgreatopportunity."

"Risky," Pol said, rubbing her chin.

"We come in fast at the limits of their sensor capacity
and launch hyper-velocity anti-rad missiles to knock
out their communications," Belazir said. "We pulse our
engines to jam subspace for the time required. It will
look natural to those who come to investigate later. A
black hole evaporating, or some such."

"Hmmm."

Pol rasped a hand over the horrible keloid scars that
narrowed one half of her face. Since cosmetic repair
would be easy enough, Belazir suspected she kept
them as an affectation. But with those scars, even the

216

Amu McCaffny 6?SJVf. Stating

most arrogant seldom remembered that Pol was a
woman. Those grooves had been made by the daws of
an animal which Pol had subsequently strangled with
her bare hands. She wore its tanned hide around her
shoulders.	È

"Hmmm," she said again. "That would be minimum-
risk strategy. However, we can#ot find out if the prey
reached the station if we obliterate the station. We must
be sure that no warning of us has gone out On the other
hand, a swift raid, catching them unawares, would dis-
cover die truth and we can act accordingly."

"Taking with us whatever the station holds," Belazir
said, grinning avariciously. Greed was quickly kindled,
since everyone knew what the merchant ship had
yielded: the merest trifle in comparison to what a full
station would render up. "Depending on what we find,
we might even have time to call for the Clan's
transports to come and haul the loot. Even what we
could load on our frigates makes a raid more than
worth our while."

Agreement rolled around the circle with the excep-
tion of Aragiz. Belazir quirked a brow at him. After
criticizing his commander for sloth, he could not be
behindhand now.

"Attack, then," Belazir concluded. The others
nodded. "Tactical instructions follow. Confirm on
receipt"

Several of Simeon-Amos's instructors were female.

Wfco/, Simeon thought. Thin, plain and severely
ascetic in middle-age, Flimma Torkin blossomed visibly
as Simeon-Amos bowed over her hand.

Her smile died a few minutes later. He appeared to
be hovering attentively, but...

"Mr. Sierra Nueva Ñ"

"Simeon-Amos," he said.

"Will you please listen to what I'm saying? As station

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

217

head, you should have some knowledge of how our
communications system functions."

"I am sorry," he said meekly.

This should be interesting, Simeon mused. The rest of
the session went n\uch more smoothly, although
<everal times Amos*absently called the communications
chief nama.

Nonstandard. Simeon thought the computer into
action; a few nanos later it came up with a probable
derivation, from the languages other than Standard
spoken among the first setders of Bethel, plus observa-
tion of the refugees.

nama: aunt, auntie. Probable meanings: female
authority figure from childhood, nurse, teacher
[primary].

"That didn't go too badly," Amos commented as
Flimma left.

"You learn quickly," Simeon said: sufficiently true as
well as polite encouragement

Meanwhile, Simeon had been busily switching
assignments. The assistant power chief was really the
logical person to brief Amos. The fact that Holene
Jagarth was stacked and less than thirty was irrelevant;
at least to Simeon and anyone else dealing with her as
an expert on plasma containment

Twenty minutes later she stood, ominously silent for
a moment, then turned to the pillar.

"Talk to him, Simeon. Or send him around to my
place for recreational duty, but in the meantime I have
work to do!" Holene said in a terse voice, turned on her
heel and stalked for the corridor.

Amos blinked in astonishment "What was the mat-
ter with her?" he asked plaintively.

"Ahem," Simeon said, and watched Amos turn back
toward the training display they'd been using. "I
wonder if you could tell me, what role do women play
in Bethel society?"

218

Anne McCaffrey fe? SM, Starting

"Role?" The question seemed almost meaningless to
him. "They are mothers, of course; daughters, sisters,
wives. They keep the home, raise die children, follow
gentle skills such as medicine and painting, the writing
of novels and poetry." He looked puzzled. "What do
you mean?"

"I was wondering if, perhapsvwomen played a more
subservient role on Bethel."

"Subservient? No, of course not! Bethel has, as yet, a
very small population. Therefore, to us, the bearing and
raising of children is th&highest calling a woman may
attain. We revere our mothers, and we feel that women
and children are to be protected and nurtured."

He frowned, mildly indignant. "There are excep-
tional cases, such as Channa. And I have never been
one of those who think that women should keep to the
inner rooms and stay silent in the presence of men.
That is old-fashioned and ridiculous. Why, some of my
primary associates in the New Revelation were
women! I feel as though you are telling me that respect
is disrespectful."

"Not at all," Simeon said soothingly, "but I think you
may be confusing respect with condescension." Amos*
face took on the set look it had worn through the last
half of his dinner with Channa. "A little less patting on
the hand, Simeon-Amos. You give them the impression
that you claim authority because of your gender."

"No, no," Amos exclaimed, throwing up his hands in
rejexrion. "If I have an aura of authority, it is because of
my position on Bethel. Birth aside, I am a junior mem-
ber of the ruling council. I rule the family estates, of
course. I have been an administrator for several years
now." He smiled in a confiding manner. "Although, I
have found that women react differently to my orders.
I do not deny that I find it simpler to work with men."
He gave a negligent shrug. "There is no problem of
seduction between men."

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

219

he's consistent, at least, Simeon thought. Maybe he
needs to cling to whatever ego-confirmation he's got, since he's
S0 displaced.

"Do you realize," the brain said coldly, "that you've
just patronized me? Based on your belief that you're
such a treat for ariyprJfe to deal with? I'm a part of this
culture. You're not I know these people, you don't. I
run this station and have been running it since before
you existed, and will be running it centuries after
you're dead. And I'll be running this station
throughout this emergency while you're only pretend-
ing to. So listen up! You're treating your women
instructors as if they're only adequate until someone
real, meaning male, arrives to take over. Well, the
experts here just happen to be female! We're short of
time, so I'm going to pay you the compliment of
expecting you to be able to adjust to that alien concept
We need you to be one of us. We need you to forget
about Bethel for the time being.

"I know how much we're asking of you, Simeon-Amos,*'
he concluded, his voice less stern and more under-
standing, "butyou're asking us to trust you withour lives."

Amos gasped, his eyes wide with a mixture of embar-
rassment, puzzlement and astonishment

Oh, fugle, Simeon thought Channa was right. I do have
the sensitivity of a demolition charge. Seventy-seven of
Amos' followers had died fleeing Bethel. And, being
the conscientious sort of leader Simeon had seen him
be, he probably had them marching through his
dreams at night, asking, "Why?"

"Sorry," Simeon said, "that was badry phrased. Look,
I need to know if you can do this. I need to know now.
You'll be dealing with Channa, under her authority,
daily. I'm not going to waste time. If we have to replace
you with someone who doesn't have the same hang-
ups you have, then six hours is all we can afford to
waste on a false start. Now, can you or can't you?"

220

Arme McCaffrey &? SM Stirling

Amos put a hand to his brow. They depended on me, and
they died, ran through his mind like a prayer response.
Followed by: No. I saved some, who would otherwise have
died. And Bethel may yet live, what & left of it.

"I have never yet failed to accomplish a thing that I
have set out to do," he said grimly. He touched head
and heart with two fingers as We bowed to Simeon's
column. "Would you be so good as to convey my
apologies to the lady who has just left?"

"No, but 111 be happy to show you how to call her so
that you can tell her yourself." Simeon watched Amos'
Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"Of course," Amos said with a strained smile. "That
would probably be best."

Ç CHAFER THIRTEEN

This is worse than the captains' meeting, Simeon thought

It was absolutely amazing that so little rumor had
leaked out. In that alone was an indication that they
might be able to bring the whole thing off. SSS-900-C
personnel had an uncanny instinct for keeping their
mouths shut when silence was more than golden,

Not so at this meeting, where everyone was sound-
ing off Ñ barring Channa and Amos Ñ and no one was
listening to a word being said.

The meeting was being held in the largest auditorium
on the station. Which, thank Ghu, Simeon thought with
relief, is not nearly large enough to hold all of the station's
population. The sensible had stayed in their quarters
watching the whole spectacle on holo. The skeleton crew
now running the station would have their own briefing
later. Just as well I didn't bother to activate sound from the
priuate quarters' screens, he thought wearily. He was getting
a good enough cross section of opinion right here, far the

thing. Icon always turn the audio off. . . No, that's useless.

He contacted Channa on the implants in her mas-
toid. "This was a mistake. We should have briefed their
counsel-reps, who would have briefed their aides, and
so on. This could build panic to critical mass." For some
reason the shouting in the auditorium rose to a higher
pitch. "Or simply get so loud the noise shakes the sta-
tion to pieces and saves the damn pirates the trouble."

"Hindsight," she said softly, "is always so dear. Actually,
they look more angry than frightened to me. I've gotten

222

AimeMcCaffivy& SM. Stirling

more used to the smell of fear than I like, but the
ambience here has a different reek. Of course, I can't hear
what they're saying, they're all yelling so loud."

Simeon picked out phrases from the uproar with
directional sensors:	È

"... those goddamned assholes in tnat colony ship..."

"... yeah, how many ways are, they going to try to
get us killed,.."

"... where's the damned Navy? That's what I want
to know. They cripple us with taxes and..."

"... this is crazy. TTiey don't even know this is what's
gonna happen? Meanwhile, I'm sittin* here losin'
money.,.. what do they expect us to do?"

"WHAT DO WE EXPECT YOU TO DO?" Simeon
asked in a tone that overrode the babble. He added in a
stew of subsonics intended to stun and intimidate. The
noise dropped offabruptly, pleasing him.

"For starters, shut up and listen!" he suggested in a
reasonable tone. "We expect you to take the emergency
seriously, to listen to instructions and to carry them out"
He paused for a moment to let that sink in. "This meet-
ing will give you what you need to know on how to
handle yourselves during the anticipated emergency.
Remember, what you don't know, you can't reveal. From
this point on, I remind you that rumor helps the enemy,
not you or me, and not this station.

"If you hear something you think is a rumor, report
it to your section leader, who's the same person who
leads your ordinary emergency evacuation team. If it's
true and it concerns your safety, he'll know about it If
he hasn't heard it, he can check with me and I'll con-
firm or deny it. I wttl tell you the truth. Do not spread
rumors. Remember that We fully expect shortly to be
occupied by an enemy force which has a very bad
reputation for space piracy."

Echel Mckie, station newscaster, waved both arms
for attention. Simeon acknowledged him.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

223

"Pirates?" he asked. "Look, is this another one of
your damned games, Simeon?"

"Absolutely not. This is as real as death. They'll be
here in less than three-days. We've notified Central and
the Navy, who assure us that a rescue mission is already
under way. But it woiA be here before the pirates are
likely to arrive. Therefore this station and its personnel
must initiate such delaying tactics as possible. To stay
aliver That silenced the last bit of muttering.

"Why weren't we told this earlier? Every ship has left
Ñ we're stuck here!" Mckie's face was a study in
outrage.

Channa moved forward to the front of the dais. "You
weren't told because we used the available space to
evacuate children and the sick," she said crisply. "Any
objections to that, Mr. Mdde?"

"As I said," Simeon went on, "we are not only expect-
ing to be occupied, we are hoping we will be." He
paused again to see that they had absorbed that distinc-
tion. He was proud of his people! They got it in one!
Shocked pale faces now accepted what he did not, after
all, have to spell out.

"Listen up now. These are your station manager's
orders. Don't offer direct resistance. Cooperate when-
ever necessary but don't volunteer anything. We
expect that most of the enemy won't speak Standard,
so misunderstand when you can. Make your answers
as brief as possible, when you can't be silent. If you
don't know, say so, but do not tell them who does know.
Stay in your quarters as much as possible. Keep your
emergency suits ready to use. Listen to information
passed to you by your group leaders rather than any-
thing you may hear over the vid. Remember, we're on
your side. They won't be.

"Finally," he said, "this is Simeon-Amos." Amos stood
up and bowed politely. "This is the only Simeon on the
station. He is co-manager with Channa Hap, the term

224

AimeMcCafficy&SM. Stirling

Simeon means co-manager. We have a longstanding
tradition of having the male station managers carrying
that name. It's in honor of one of the first station
managers. There is no brain or brawn on this station,
there never has been. Shellpersoas are only used on
ships."

He paused to gauge their reaction, studying their
grim faces. "If they don't know about me, I'll be able to
continue running the station unimpaired Ñ literally
behind the scenes. If they disconnect me from the sta-
tion Ñ and they will, if they^find out about meÑwe're
all in trouble. So, as of now and for the duration, I don't
exist. This is Simeon-Amos, your station co-manager."

Amos smiled and nodded. The audience had that
stillness of about-to-boil-over. Faces began to reflect
expressions now; mild alarm, disbelief, skepticism.

"This . . . this backworldmttdfoot is supposed to
manage us in an emergency?" somebody said, with all
the hauteur of the space-born. Amos' head went back,
and he stared down his classical Grecian nose with ten
generations of aristocrats behind his eyes.

"To pretend to run things," Simeon said. "Further-
more, he volunteered to front for me! Not a role you'd
get many to take under the circumstances," he added,
and got a few snorts of agreement "So, before anyone
frets over Simeon-Amos' leadership qualifications, I'd
like to replay the man in action. The tape's authentic.
I've checked it." Nobody could do that better than a
brain.

What Simeon screened for them then were shots
that he had accessed from Guiyon's files. Itbegan when
a wall flashed with intolerable brightness, then
diminished to show troops in black combat armor trot-
ting down a burning street of brick-and-timber
buildings. The sensor was pitched low, looking up
from a half-basement window or a hole in the ground.
Across the way, a human figure hung out of a window,

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

225

long black braids trailing in a pool of blood on the
sidewalk. A child's body lay there too: its crushed skull
suggesting it had been thrown against the wall

The screen wa*s abruptly blank. Then lit up again
with a dimmer scene.

Amos' recorded *olq| cut through the blurr-roar of
flames. "Now" he s*d.

The picture shook "as the ground heaved, and the
burning walls cascaded across the street, drowning the
black figures in a tide of brick and flaming timbers and
glass. Other figures darted forward, Bethelites to judge
by their rough, improvised uniforms. When the first
powersuits began to claw their way out of the rubble,
the defenders were ready. Amos was unmistakably
leading them, an industrial jetcutter in his hands. He
plunged it down on the massive sloped helmet that
jerked itself free of the ruins, and helm and head
exploded in steam.

The screen jerked, a different scene coming into
abrupt focus: a manor-house among formal gardens,
only a few scorch-marks on its walls. Invader infentry
stood at their ease; the picture had the slightly glassy
look of a flatpic extrapolated by a long-distance
camera. Armored fighting vehicles rested in leagues on
the lawns, their cannon pointing outward in a her-
ringbone pattern, lighter weapons on their upper
decks tracking restlessly across the sky. An aircraft
slowed overhead. Bulky armored shapes disembarked,
one in a suit marked with complex blazons in a script of
angles and sharp curves.

The viewpoint zoomed in, as a group of young
women in long robes were pushed out of the front
door of the manor, many carrying bundles. They knelt
under the alien guns; one opened the chest she car-
ried, filled with miniature crystal vials. She smiled,
gesturing to the bottles, opening one and smelling,
extending it to the warrior in the decorated suit. From

226

Anne McCafirey &7 SJVf. Stirling

her looks she was about sixteen Standard years and
very beautiful, with the classic features similiar to
Amos'. The pirate raised both gauntlets to his helmet,
lifted it free and tucked it under one arm, bending to
sniff. The exposed face was scored with age,
roughened skin pockmarked by radfttion damage,
blossoming growths, thinning blond^hair startling
against dark complexion. It smiled..."

Leered, Simeon thought, reviewing the scene, fve
heard the word, but never really seen the corresponding expres-
sion till now.

The view of the pirate's face"was brief. Even as he
bent, a red dot appeared between his brows. Less than
a second later, his head exploded into mist.

The body stayed erect in the armored suit, blood
pumping in a high arc from the stump of the neck. The
girl with the perfume box stood, smiling truly this time
as the blood bathed her. Until one of the other warriors
stepped forward and, gripping her head in a powered
gauntlet, squeezed. Her head burst in a spray of pink
bone and gray matter. The other girlsjoined hands and
were singing when the plasma gun scythed them into
ash and steam.

Someone in the hall was retching; several sobbed.

"For the death of that Kolnar, I claim only the
marksmanship," Amos said, his archaic accent adding
gravity to his clear tone. "The bravery was my sister's.
Sahrah led the maiden volunteers. I did not know what
she had planned. I was trying to reach the manor before
the enemy could. We think ... we think that dead dog
was fourth or fifth in rank among the pirates."

All heads turned to him; his was slightly bowed.
"Such was Bethel, when the Kolnari came to us," he
said. "They have the souls ofÑ" he spoke a nonstan-
Jard word.

"Rats," Simeon said.

"Ñ rats that walk like men. They kill for killing's

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

227

sake, they rape and tenure and steal, and what they
cannot steal, diey foul out of depravity."

Another holo came up. "Keriss," Amos said. There
was total silence now. A city by a bay, astride a river,
lower-built than the worlds influenced by Central's
architectural styles, Brifrht-tolored buildings amid
broad gardens. A scattering of taller buildings at its cen-
ter, and one that led the eye up and up in a leap of
towers and domes.

"The Temple," Amos said. "This was a remote pick-
up, a news-sendee shot, just before the end."

White light flashed. The city dissolved as the bulging
donut shape of the shockwave billowed out. The slow
scene gave it a terrible grace; trees exploding into
flame under the heat-flash and scattering as less than
splinters an instant later, the water of the bay beginning
to flow and swell into a wave taller than the hills.

"So died Keriss," Amos whispered.

"I'm not calling wolf this time," Simeon said, match-
ing that same tone. "If anyone doubts, speak now."

He let the ensuing silence echo. "Does anyone think
they're better equipped to play me than Simeon-Amos
is?" No one gainsaid him. "This emergency is all too
real. Until help arrives, we're going to have to rely on
each other. I believe we can do that," he said confident-
ly. "If you weren't pretty brave and independent sorts
of individuals, you wouldn't be on a station anyway.
You'd be on a planet somewhere trying to figure out
how to get the bugs offyour vegetables."

This got more of a chuckle than it deserved, he
thought, but they needed the release from tension.

Channa rose, ubiquitous notescreen in hand.

"There will be a meeting for council members at
two," she announced, "and there will be a meeting of
evacuation group leaders at four. Subsequent to those
meetings, evacuation groups themselves will meet at
times appointed by the group leaders. We aren't going

228

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229

to take questions because we're now on a need-to-
know basis. We thank you for your cooperation. Ladies
and gentlemen, this meeting is adjourned."

"Right, listen up, you crap-headed rock hounds,"
Gus bellowed.

The noise level in the docking ^hamber fell fairly
quickly. Stands to reason, he thought.'*These were work-
ing spacers, not data-pushers and entertainers. About
fifty of them glared up at him as if he'd thought up this
little crisis himself. The shages of the tugs and miners
in the interior dock bulked at their backs, huge and
shadowy with all but one of the overheads turned off.
That cast a puddle of light over the assembled pilots
and crew. He had staged the meeting this way at
Simeon's suggestion, to make them feel like a group.

"You know what's coming down," he said, making
his voice intense without making it loud. "All our ship-
ping with interstellar capacity has been moved out"

"Not all," one of the miners said, running a hand
over her luridly tattooed head.

"Can it, Shabla. You can do maybe ten lights, scout-
ing for minerals. That won't get you to the next
system."

She shrugged, grinning at those ranged about her.

"What we've got left is the tugs," said Gus, "and some
mining scouts. It isn't much, against four frigate-class
warships."

"It's fardling nothing," another said. "Unless you
want us to ram 'em?" The man didn't think much of
that idea even as he voiced it-
Ramming was not completely out of the question; if
you cut something heading toward you at high speeds
into smaller pieces, you were just multiplying your
troubles. You had to blast it into gas, or deflect it, before
you were safe. They all understood the principle, and
the limitations.

"Ramming's not on," Gus said, shaking his head
even as he gave them a sly grin. "Not when we lose to
any beam-weapon they care to turn on us. But," and
he waited until a schematic of a standard tug came up
on the screen behind him, "what has a tug got? A^
normal-space engine'an^ a great big power plant, and
a fardlin' humongous grapnel field. Mining scout's
about the same, only with a sampling laser. So there
isn't much sense in us getting into slugging matches
with warships." He caught the universal sigh of relief
that wafted about.the'bay. "ButÑ" and he held up one
gnarled finger "Ñ there are things we can do."

Then he outlined the changes needed on the screen
behind him. Gratified and slightly vulpine grins
replaced frowns even when he explained the strategy
to be effected by such alterations.

"Hey, wait," Shabla said. "I got a husband Ñ two,
actually Ñ on this tin can. You want me to leave 'em
here while the place is taken over?"

"Exactly," Gus said, giving her stare for stare. "What
the crap could you do for 'em here? Get your head
kicked in? Start a firefight in a corridor and blow the
pressure hull? Out there, we've got a chance to do
something worthwhile for all our skins. We've all got
someone here, or nearly all of us. This is what we can
do for 'em. Who's with me?"

The cheer was more nearly a howl.

He's realty much more attractive when he isn't trying to be,
Channa thought dismally. And when he's really working.
Which he was, now.

"And it's been so long," she murmured to herself.

Amos turned to look at her, his brow furrowed in con-
cern. "Something troubles you, Channa?" He grinned.
"Besides, that is, our possibly imminent demise?"

She gave him a jaundiced smile. He would mention
that, she thought, just when I was getting involved

230

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THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

231

enough not to think about it Well, since we might all die,
why not take the plunge?

"This is beginning to get to me. I feel so... so alone."

His eyes kindled, and a lovely feathery warmth
tickled her lower belly. Her smile spread to a grin, and
he rose from his place and came to sit beside her, their
thighs lightly touching. He took tfer hand in both of
his.

Ooooo, she thought. If this one were on the holos, there
wouldn't be a dry seat in the house.

"You're not alone! Fm here," he said, his voice rich
with sympathy.

An hour later, things had progressed to the point
where they had drifted into Channa's quarters arm in
arm. And damn Simeon's opinion, Channa thought. Fm
going to enjoy myself.

They were both three-<juarters undressed and a lot
warmer when Simeon imitated the sound of a knock
on the door and shouted from the lounge.

"Simeon-Amos, Rachel's here." The voice was flatly
neutral, but Channa savagely thought she could detect
a suppressed giggle.

"What!" Amos shrieked softly as they both sat bolt
upright

"Here?" Channa demanded. "What do you mean,
here?"

"She's in the corridor outside," Simeon said cheer-
fully. "Should I let her in?"

*just a moment," Amos said desperately, leaping
from the bed and frantically grabbing up clothes.

"That's mine," Channa said, rescuing her shirt from
the pile.

Amos bolted from the room, opened the door to his
quarters, flung his clothes in and ran to the door.
Realizing he was in his underpants, he ran back to his
room, grabbed his robe, and struggled to pull it over
his head as he staggered back to the lounge. The arms

seemed to knot and tangle so deliberately, he
wondered if the robe had turned animate and was
resisting. Amos made desperate, despairing little

sounds.

Channa rolled her eye^ Èghed, and headed for the
bathioom. "Cold waterf pulsed, shower," she told the

fixtures. As if I need one with Rachel at the door, she
thought

Amos took a deep breath, finally pulling the robe
down over hi$4Èddy.

"Why am I agitated?" he asked himself. "I do not
have to account for my actions. There is no one in
authority over me." On the other hand, Rachel could
make an unfortunate scene. At least there would be no
outraged father, brother, uncle, or cousin likely to
break in with a hunting rifle and blow off the offending
equipment

He opened the door. He hopped backward just in
time to avoid a blow from Rachel's fist, aimed at the
lounge doors. "Rachel!" he snapped.

She stood glaring at him. She was breathing fast, her
nostrils flaring, a sheen of sweat across the pale olive of
her skin.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

He looked at her in astonishment

"You know perfectly well what I am doing here," he
said. He had himself sufficiently under control now to
speak with his usual gentle authority, and he could see
her purpose falter. "I am living in die manager's quarters
because I am to be a co-manager of the station. I'm study-
ing very hard and constantly to be worthy of this honor. I
have told you this. 1 told everyone." He let his eyes widen
sfighuy in unaffected innocence.

She narrowed her eyes. "It is true, Amos, that you
told everyone. But, you did not tell me\"

"All right," he said soothingly, "all right, come in."

232

AÈmeMcCaffny& SM. StirKng

He placed his hands delicately on her shoulders and
steered her to the couch. "Sit!"

She looked first at him, then at the couch as though
she suspected some trap before she cautiously folded
herself down to the cushioned jfcirface. Looking up at
him, she patted the place beside her.

"You sit down, too," she insisted.

"You will have some refreshment?"

"No. I will have an explanation."

He drew over a straight-backed chair, placed it in
front of her and sat down. Her eyes widened and she
sat up straighter, looking, if possible, even more
affronted than she had been.

"I am sorry," he said, "if I have offended you, but I
have been very busy." Unspoken was the inference that
she should be also, helping to brief the Bethelites and
settle them into their temporary roles. "I told Joseph
about our plans, and I assumed that he would explain
everything to you."

"Oh!" she said sarcastically, "You told Joseph. Well,
then of course there was no need to enlighten me! He
could tell me whatever he pleased of your plans and that
would have been sufficient. Then I could go to sleep this
night, knowing that you had moved in with that black-
hearted slut-bitch, with an untroubled heart."

"Rachel bint Damscusr he said sharply. "You forget
yourself!"

She raised both fists above her head and shouted, "It
is not I who disport with the daughters of the heathen,
an act forbidden by every scripture! Nor is it Joseph's
place to tell me of what we do. It is yours, yours alone!
Are we not to be betrothed?"

He stared at her in shock. "No," he said in blank
astonishment "Whatever gave you that idea?"

She blinked. "No?"

"No," he repeated, shaking his head in the negative.

All of the color drained from her race and he could

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

233

see the white of her eyes all around the iris. She
breathed in and out through her nose with a sound like
tearing silk. She trembled. She tried to speak and only a
garbled sound came out, then she said in a grating
voice, "She has seduced^ou."

"No," he said and Èhook his head again, waving both
his hands in the same negative gesture, but his eyes slid
away from hers.

"Always," she said harshly, "from the time we first
met, I knew that you were mine. Mine!"

"No," he said. "You are meant for Joseph, who has
always loved you. He will make you happy, and he
wants you." He forced his voice to gendeness. She has
became unbalanced, he thought desperately. Of all the
times for such a thing to happen! He had thought her
only a little more given to hysteria than most of her sex,
but something had changed her; perhaps the trauma
of the attack, perhaps the massive drug dosages they
had been forced to use on the trip.

Her eyes widened still more, until the whites showed
all around the iris. He had heard of such things, but
never seen them, except once when an ancient hermit
had gone into a trance and prophesied.

/ should have paid move attention to my first-aid training,
he thought ruefully. Perhaps then he would know how
to deal with her instability. Whatever her faults, she
had sacrificed much to follow him. She had been
invaluable in the chaotic scramble of the last days on
Bethel. My dear friend, I have failed you.

"He wants me," she said in the same low growl "And
you do not?" Her mouth twisted, and she bit her lip as
she turned her head from side to side and nodded
several times. Abruptly she rose and was out the door
before he could rise from his chair.

He grabbed his hair in both of his hands and pulled.
"Arrughh! Simeon," he asked, "what have I done?"

"Pissed off Rachel, I'd say."

234

Aime McCaffny & SM. Stating

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

235

Amos sighed, then groaned. "No," he said despair-
ingly, "I have done worse than that I allowed myself to
be talked out of doing what I knew was right. I knew in
my heart that she should be-evacuated, but Joseph
asked me to let her stay. Perhaps I gave you the wrong
answer today, my friend. Perhaps I cannot play this
role if I am so easily convince*} to go against my better
judgement"

"You thought Joseph could keep her in fine?"
"Yes. I hoped that, because he would be nearby and
considerate of her, she would turn more to him and less
toward me."

"Not a bad reasoning," Simeon replied truthfully.
"Sending her away might break whatever hold she has
on reality."

Amos looked unreassured and more miserable than
ever. He might be a good-looking man, but he sure had
cornered the supply of gloomy looks.

"Today, you have said quite correcdy that you are
older than I, and also that in many ways you are wiser-
Today I should have been the wiser." He shook his
head sorrowfully and shuffled into his room like an okl
man.

Well, Simeon thought, what an interesting evening!
Looks like the forecast for true lave is Ñ not smooth. Such
marvelous material for teasing Channa. So tempting to
see how she'd react. No! He had to keep his mind on
more important things. Like that Rachel. The girl had
shot out of that interview with Amos as if she'd lost her
rag. Better keep an eye on her, he told himself. And so should
Doctor Chaundra, if he's got the time. Most acute mental ill-
ness was chemical, or could be adjusted with the
judicious use of neutralizing chemicals.

With a weary woof, Doctor Chaundra sat at his desk
and, setting his coffee cup in the most spill-proof area
available in the surface clutter, he keyed up his mail It

had been two days since he'd had an opportunity to
look at it Twenty-five attempted suicides, four of them
among the refugee Bethelites who chose gruesomely
old-fashioned methods. One had actually hanged her-
self! Good in one respect: easier to revive, although
there might be some memory loss from oxygen
deprivation, and-he'd have to use a nerve-shunt The
sight of that bloated, blue-tinged face with the protrud-
ing tongue lingered unpleasantly.

He slipped himself a calmer; just one, although the
gods alone knew what it would do with all the caffeine
he'd been absorbing. He had to get on with this
accursed viral project even if he was a doctor, not a
gene-sculptor! It disturbed him to deliberately make a
virus more harmful: too much like making medicine
into a weapon. Chaundra had grown up on a planet
where personal violence was fairly common, and done
his internship in a trauma ward. His own family came
from a pacifist tradition, and the internship had con-
firmed him in it

At least Seld is out of this, he thought with relief.
The first message was yet another requisition for
calmers. He signed it out; the organosynth machines
were going to be running overtime. Would pirates take
notice of supernatural calm? The doctor smiled rue-
fully at that and told the machine to show him the next
message. It was flagged personal, which was odd. He
began to read.

His heart stumbled; he could feel the pain in his
chest quite distinctly, but it seemed distant and unim-
portant Vision grayed down to a tunnel; it was long
minutes before he could speak.
At last he managed to croak "Simeon? Simeon!"

"What is it, Chaundra?"

I don't like the way he looks. The sound of the doctor's
voice had been sufficiently worrisome for Simeon to

236

Anne McCaffrey 6? S.M. Stirling

THE cny WHO FOUGHT

237

activate visuals. The doctor was visibly tired but, con-
sidering the work load he was pushing, fatigue would
be normal. Nor unusual for Chaundra who tended to
push himself. If Simeon had been capable of
experiencing fatigue, he would be knackered right
now. The slightly built dark man was gray-faced with
sweat beading his forehead. Simeon ran a diagnostic
program; not good. Extreme stress, to the point of
endangering the man's health. Chaundra was not
young anymore, and had endured some very hostile
environments in his career. Not to mention the current
problem.

"This message..." and Chaundra managed to point
to his screen.

Dear DadÑSimeon read.

"Why on earth didn't this trip my watchman
programs Ñ I'll have ]oattsfade for this, by God!"

Ñ I couldn't go, Fmsorry. Ihopeyou can understand and
forgiveme, but ^artythmg were to happen to you and I wasn't
there, Td never forgive myself. I have to be here, because Mom
can't be. Iloveyou.

Seld.

"Oh!" Simeon paused in full comprehension of
Chaundra's state of mind. "But didn't you put him
on...."

"No," Chaundra said, in a voice drained of affect.
"He was in line, almost to the lock. Then I received a
bleep message Ñ the most urgent of codes. Seld said I
must answer. He understood that. We embraced, said
good-bye and I left him there."

Chaundra flopped one hand over weakly, unable for
more effort than that. "He was practically on the ship.
How the hell did this happen?"

"I'm sorry. I've too good an idea!" Simeon told him.
"I'll try to find out where that wicked young rascal is
right now." He didn't mean Seld, but did not qualify his
term. After a moment's pause he came up blank. "I'm

not finding him, so he's well hidden wherever he is.
That should be some consolation, Chaundra," he said
in a firmly reassuring tone. "If I can't find him, neither
can our expected visitors. I'll keep looking. Count on
me for that! - - *j

Looking with every eye I own, Simeon said grimly. How
could the well-mannered, well-brought up Seld have
fallen for one of Joat's schemes? And what part would
the kid play in it? And Fm to blame for this situation and
Chaundra's heartache, Joat had been so eager to learn,
and he'd seen no reason to restrict her terminal's access
to the schematics. She had been bad enough before this
emergency sent her to cover; now, he didn't know what
she was capable of doing.

Fve an idiot-savant running feral in my station, he
thought bitterly. Ten years' precocity in advanced engineer-
ing technics and the morals of a five-year-old. The
selfishness of small children can be charming, when
they don't have the power to do much harm. In a near-
adult, and a brilliant near-adult at that, the possibilities
went out of bounds,

"Well, Seld is here Ñ somewhere!" Chaundra said,
recovering himself enough to shout and to be livid with
rage. "The clock says this message was entered ten
hours after his ship left!"

"I know, I see it Don't worry, Chaundra. We'll find
him."

HI know we'll find him. What worries me is that he
should hide! That he is no longer as safe as I thought
he would be by now. Do you understand? My son could
die. My heart is pounding with the anxiety."

Simeon ran another quick scan of the station, this time
including apartments left empty by the evacuation.

"Still searching. There are so many places he could
hide and even I couldn't find him," he said by way of reas-
suring Chaundra. "He's a big strong kid who can handle
himself" As well as any of us, he thought The odds for

238

Anm McCaffny # SJW. Stating

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

239

anyone on the station were not good, but there was no
point in reminding Chaundra of that now.

"No," the doctor said between clenched teeth, "he
isn't a "big strong kid,' and he can't handle himself. He's
never going to be strong. Thej^lague that took his
mother left him with nerve damage."

"Nerve damage?" Simeor^jsaid incredulously.
Regeneration of nerve tissue was an old technology,
and well understood. Without it, shellpeople would be
impossible, for the same technique knitted their ner-
vous systems into the machinery that supported them
and that they commanded.

Chaundra shook his head. "I have done what I could
to bypass the damage, but if he puts too much strain
where the repair exists ..." His voice trailed off, and
when he raised his face to Simeon's visual node, he had
turned into an old man.

"It was a little clinic, you understand. Mary, she was
the meditech, I the doctor. A new continent on a new
colony world. Much to do, we were on research grants.
Then people began to die. There was nothing I could
do... They imposed quarantine Ñ quarantine, in this
day and age! When I found what had happened,
already it was too late for Mary. The virus ... was a
hybrid. A native virus-analogue combined with a
mutant Terran encephalitis strain. The native virus
wrapped around the Terran, you understand. So the
immune system could not recognize it and had no
defense. The Terran element enabled it to parasitize
ourDNA.

"Seld was damaged, on the point of death. It took
three years of therapy for him to be able to walk and
talk and move as well as he does."

Chaundra turned, picking things up from his desk
and putting them down.

"But he will never be strong. If they seize him, hell
be as helpless as someone half his age. There could be

convulsions: stress accelerates the damage. It is
cumulative. Why do you think I took this position? He
must be near a first-rate facility at all times. He must
not suffer extreme stress or the effects could snowball
As it is, he will probably rÈt live much past adulthood."

Chaundra slumpefl in* his chair, anger, even anxiety
draining out of him as he buried his head in his hands.

"Then we'll make sure they don't hurt him," Simeon
said grimly." First, let's find him. He's probably withjoat"

"Seld's mentioned her." Chaundra's voice was muffled
"He has many-friends, but she sounded... different"

"She is. Oh, she's different, all right. And she
wouldn't leave, either. So in a way, you and I are in the
same boat."

Chaundra rubbed his mouth and chin. Whiskers
rasped; unusual, since he was normally a fastidious
man. "Yes," he said and laughed sardonically, "and the
boat is about to leak."

"Not necessarily." Simeon said firmly enough to
make himself believe it "Seld has something else going
for him."

"He has?"

"Yes. Seld has Joat, and she's got such a strong sur-
vival instinct that even if the rest of the station blew,
she'd find a way to stay alive ... and keep Seld alive,
too. He's actually far safer with her than anywhere else
he could be. So I wouldn't worry about his infirmities,
or stress. Though I hate like hell to admit it, I can't
think of anyone better qualified to mind him than
Joat!"

"Seld," Simeon called. "Seld Chaundra, come out
where I can see you."

Joat popped into view rubbing her eyes, "What are
you yeUin' about, Simeon?" she asked, yawning.

"Send him out, Joat This is the only place he can
possibly be."

240	Ame McCaffrey 6? SM. Stirling

Joat crossed her arms and looked sleepily defiant.
"Your father is worried, Seld," Simon went on. "He
sent you away so that you'd be safe. So you know he's
not really going to kill you for staying, even though you
deserve it."

Seld appeared beside Joat, who*shoved him in the
shoulder. "Tbldja to stay outta sight)"

He hung his head and said, "I know. But I can't let
you take my rap. Mom wouldn't like that in me. At least
that's what my dad says she'd say." He shrugged and
gave her a feeble grin.

Joat rolled her eyes. "Do what'choo want," she said
in a scathing tone, and disappeared.

"Actually," Simeon told them both, "I don't see any
need to rough it just yet. Why not sleep comfortably
while you can, eat what everyone else is enjoying,
because we're certainly not going to leave it to the
pirates to gobble up. I'd prefer that you hide out when
the pirates arrive. Meanwhile, Seld, give your dad the
benefit of your company: he needs it. Save your
rations,Joat- Eat with us. Food'sbetter. For now."

He picked up her disgusted sigh, and then she
walked into view, arms still folded, expression still
defiant

Simeon warmed to her all over again. I don't think I
was ever that young, he thought, but, y'ftnow, she makes me
tvish I could swagger. "Okay guys, let's go."

* CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Very large mass," Baila said, whispering. "Several
score megatons, at least."

"You nee4 not lower your voice," Belazir said,
amused and more so when several of the bridge crew
jumped. "We are proceeding stealthed, but sound
waves do not propagate in vacuum."

He turned to the schematic and long-range visual
views. Impressive indeed, he thought. Far and away the
largest free-floating construct he had ever seen. Twin
globes, each at least a thousand meters in extent, linked
by a broad tube. More tubes at the north and south
axis, evidently for docking large ships, although none
were there at the moment Around the station was an
incredible clutter of material: loose ore, giant flexible
balloons of various substances, radiating networks,
fabricators,

Large but soft, he decided. Like a huge lump of well-
cooked meat, steaming in its own juices and touched
with garlic, waiting to be carved into bite-sized pieces. It
was a target so rich that he had trouble convincing him-
self of its reality. Mentally he accepted it, while his
emotions could only kick in every minute or so, as jolts
of near-orgasmic pleasure. He stretched like a cat,
acutely conscious of the anticipatory tension beneath
the quiet ordered activity of the bridge. Everyone in
the flotilla would come out of this a hero. He couldn't
believe this plum could be snatched away Ñ not from
the Kolnari and especially not when he commanded
the Kolnari flotilla! And he, Belazir t'Marid Kolaren,

242

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM.. Stating

would be more than a hero. He would be placed firmly
in the logical line of succession to Chalku t'Marid.

"A pity it is so big," he mused. "A shame to have to
waste any of the possible plunder." He sighed for, of
course, they would have to destrqg what they could not
take.

The flotilla were warships by sfjetialty, not cargo car-
riers. Even if they had time enough to bring in the
heavy haulers from the Clan fleet, only the merest tithe
of the goods to be found in this size station could be
transported. On the othgrhand, the ecstasy of sheer
destruction had its own euphoria Ñ the knowledge
that so much data and effort could be casually blown to
dust.

"A message torpedo to the fleet?" Serig asked.

"You echo my thoughts, Serig," Belazir said. "Ready
for instant transmission once we close our fist on our
prey."

The message sent back with the captured mer-
chantman would have the Clan fleet on alert. But the
transports could not yet have arrived at Bethel, much
less landed there. Rigged for deep-space running, suf-
ficient ships could be diverted to assist him without
hindering the effort at Bethel. Say, ten days' transit
from the Saffron system, to be conservative; two or
three days loading, depending on how many Father
Chalku decided to send. Then set demolition charges,
nice large ones to leave nothing larger than gravel.
There might well be prisoners worth taking for skilled
labor. The huge rectangular frame of a shipyard was
now visible on one side of the station, and that meant
that there would be rare and valuable slaves to sell.

With an effort, he restrained himself from rubbing
his hands together. "Oh, what a surprise they have in
store," he said.

"Indeed," Serig said. His eyes and teeth shone in the
dim blue lights of the bridge and his voice was husky,

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

243

a man in the grip of lust Which, Belazir reflected,
was exactly what it was. Metaphorically and literally.

"Keep your eagerness in chains, my friend," he said
genially- "It is a good slave but a poor master." He
'aimed to Baila. "Whattraffic inbound?"

"None, Great Lor^l." *

"None?" Belazir raised a brow.

Curious, he thought, a space station built in an area near-
ly devoid of traffic. Is it old and due to be abandoned? Or is it
new and as yet rarely used ? A small chill diluted the perfec-
tion of his pleasure. There were alternatives here; he
might be the hero who brought unimaginable wealth,
or the immortal villain who revealed the existence of
the Clan to an enemy more powerful than they.

He shook his head with a small, tssk of disgust.
Impossible. The merchantman had been rich with
treasure and it had just left the station. "Indications?"

"Great Lord, the background radiation is consistent
with large-scale departures over the past five days."
Baila paused, hesitant. "Lord, it is difficult to be certain,
with the density of the interstellar medium here. Sub-
space distortion damps out very quickly..."

The small chill became fingers of ice stroking the
base of his spine. His testicles drew up in reflex.

"I want information, not excuses!" he said in a harsh
voice. "Ready the seeker missiles." If the accursed
Bethelite cowards had warned the stationÑprompting
the normal traffic to flee Ñ they would destroy it and
run immediately. He was nearly certain he had crip-
pled the prey's communications apparatus in the
pursuit, but "nearly" grilled no meat. But, if it had
escaped, where was it? Or had the station done his
work for him? A rich station would have cause to be
wary of unexpected visitors. "Continue stealthed
approach."

That meant running with the powerplants down, off
accumulator energy, on a ballistic sublight approach.

244

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating

Slow, they would take years to come near at this speed,
but quite safe at a respectable distance. At any moment
they could power up and close in swiftly at super-
luminal speeds. This was a modification of a tactic the
Clan sometimes used against merchantmen on the
outskirts of a solar system. And mey were dose enough
that lightspeed was not much of a problem for detec-
tion purposes. Briefly, he considered running back on
FTL for a few parsecs, to see if he could pick up traces
of in- or outbound traffic over the past week. Then he
shook his head, rejecting that plan. Signal degraded
too much over distance, arid his own trail would adver-
tise his presence. While the station retained subspace
communicator capacity, it presented the Clan with a
deadly risk.

Taking time to consider a problem from all angles
was no excuse for inaction. Strike the hardest blow you
could, then see if another was needed; that was the
Kolnari way.

"See if you can pick anything up from their
perimeter relay beacons," he said. In dust this thick
even local realspace beacons needed amplification.
"Message, Great Lord," said Baila.
"I would hear it"
Immediately a woman's crisp voice filled the control
center, "Warning all ships, warning all ships, SSS-90Q-
C is under Class Two quarantine: I repeat, Class Two
quarantine. The following species are advised not to
make port at these facilities under any circumstances."
A list of alien species followed, most of them
unknown to t'Marid.

"Human visitors are restricted to the dock facilities
and the entertainment areas immediately adjacent to
them. You are advised to continue on to your next port
of call. Warning..."

The message began to repeat and Baila cut it off.
"Further scan, lord: there are two debris fields. Both of

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

245

them between us and the station. The one nearest the
station is largely of natural ferrous compounds, prob-
ability ninety-seven percent-plus semi-processed
asteroidal material. The other, nearest the Bride, is of
metal and ship-hull compounds, finely divided.
Computer assessment S that the mass represented by
the metal debris is equivalent to the mass represented
by the prey ship."

She touched several controls, and the multiple
screens displayed a scene of tumbling scraps of half-
melted metal, no single piece larger than a meter wide
or long. Most were a fog of metallic particles.

His eyes narrowed. The quarantine could explain
the absence of shipping. Baila's analysis suggested that,
either the prey ship, which he knew had been ancient,
had disintegrated under the stress of redlining or the
station had destroyed it. The former was more likely
since no weaponry had been detected on the station.
No doubt the truth of the end to the Bethelite refugee
ship would be found in the station's records.

"Your appraisal?" Belazir asked his weapons officer.

"Great Lord," the man said, collating a probability
run, "the bulk of the fragments are definitely the result of
ultra-high temperature breakdown. The profile is com-
pletely compatible with sudden energy discharge from
the main internal drive coil of a very large ship. Some of
the other debris Ñ" he called up relevant views "Ñ show
blast fragmentation. That could either have been the
result of direct hits with chemical-energy warheads, or
secondary propagation effects when the engine blew.
The shockwave through the hull..."

"I'm aware of the phenomenon," Belazir said dryly.
The weapons officer shrank back. Belazir t'Marid had
fought his first space engagement before the younger
noble was born. "Continue scan and analysis. Inform
me of any anomalies."

They blew up," Serig said.

246

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

THE CFTY WHO FOUGHT

247

"Just as they arrived? How convenient," Belazir said.
He gnawed a thumb. "Possibly too convenient?"

"Possibly. However, we were expecting their engines
to foil catastrophically at any moment They were sub-
limating bits of their cooling vanes for the last thirty
light-years."	*

"True. Itisstillacoincidence."

¥jÈ

"Once is coincidence," Serig said in ritual tone,
"twice is happenstance Ñ"

"Ñ and the third time is enemy action, yes," Belazir
finished irritably. "But for the station to be plague-
ridden at the same time?*'

"The scumvermin races are weak of body, lord," he
noted.

Belazir signed confirmation. TTie seed of Rolnar was
strong. It had to be, to have survived so long on a
planet not suitable for human beings, and further
devastated by so many centuries of reckless develop-
ment and continual war with every nuclear, chemical
and biological weapon ingenuity could produce. When
the Clan fled a losing struggle, they had kept the tradi-
tion of culling any child who showed signs of
vulnerability to infection. In feet, it was a stroke of for-
tune to have the enemy immobilized by a menace that
was no menace to the Kolnari.

"Hold position. Call in the consorts."
"Yes, Great Lord."

Belazir glanced at his communications officer. Her
face was bright with excitement, too. He smiled. She was
young; this was her first term of duty. He remembered
well that sharp, eager feeling. He grinned. Ah, but he
was feeling now, at the ripe age of thirty, that his life was
half over.

"All captains confirming receipt of your orders,
Great Lord. Moving into position."

"Excellent," he said, glancing back at the schematic
Km have abvady given a cry of distress, oh rich and beauteous

, he thought vindictively. The entire universe was
in conspiracy against the Clan Ñ against all of Kolnar
and its children. Soon you mill scream.

Channa turned at her desk.

'Hi Joat, welcome

Ç	¥          Ç
rome.                      I

A relieved, shy smile greeted her. "Um ... gonna
take a shower."

"You can use it," Channa said, sniffing. "When
you're through, I want to introduce you to someone."

"Ah," Simeon said lighdy. "We're a family again."

"Shut up, you hunk of tin," Channa said good-
naturedly, throwing a wad of scrunched-up tissue in
the general direction of the pillar. "How does this look?"

She punched a key to feed in the distribution of
supply caches.

"Hmmm. Not bad. Okay, how about we seal off the fol-
lowing passageways?" A schematic of several decks
sprang up." If you didn't know about modern fabrication
methods, that would look right for structural members."

"Good, good Ñ what does that give us?"

"About a thousand people we can stick away in
corners Ñ the V list" Those were the ones that they
hadn't had space available to evacuate.

"Nobody essential, I'm afraid," Channa said. They
had agreed that they had to let essential staff take the
risks, as their absence would elicit questions.

"No, but it'll cut down the number of potential vic-
tims quite nicely. Also, it'll give us a chance to scatter
around some stuff that'll come in useful later. Ah,
Simeon-Amos."

Tlie Bethelite leader's eyes were red-rimmed, but his
smile brought a warm lurch to Channa's diaphragm. "I
think I have mastered the basic administrative struc-
ture," he said. "It is not too strange."

Channa raised a brow. A 900-series station isn't too
strange to a backworlder? she thought.

j

248

AttneMcCaffrey fc? SJW. StirUng

The thought must have been obvious, but Amos
only spread his hands and tossed his head, setting
aswirl the coal-black curls of his shoulder-length mane.
The blue eyes twinkled beneath the broad dear brow.

Oooooo, Channa thought, and fought to bring her
attention back to his words.

"In any large organization* xhere will be certain
constants," he said. "The central authority; officers in
charge of various departments; a structure for meetings
to coordinate activities; procedures for routine decision-
making, and so forth. Tips is not too dissimilar to my
family's holdings on Bethel. We, too, were essentially
coordinators of the activities of many independent
entrepreneurs. There are no ranchers or farmers here,
of course, but both communities have mining, manufac-
turing, education, cultural facilities..."

"Culture?" Joat ducked back into the lobby, toweling
her wet hair. For a wonder, she had on something more
formal than the shapeless, patchwork-colorful overalls
that were current fashion among SSS-900-C's youth.
"Like holos and virtie games and stuff?"

"Ahhh ..." Amos hesitated. He had been thinking
more of choral song and traditional dancing. "The
general principle is the same."

The servos had been setting out the evening meal.
Simeon had programmed them to meet the basic
dietary superstitions of the Bethelite religion, although
Amos had turned out to be flexible. Channa shud-
dered mentally at some of the things she'd screened in
that Bethel text. How in God's name, for example,
were they supposed to check that none of the materials
had ever been touched by a menstruating woman?

They sat down, Amos murmured a prayer, and for
another wonder Joat waited a second before grabbing
the nearest bowl. She had turned out to be a
monumentally unfussy eater, but in sheer capacity she
belied the scrawny underdeveloped frame. BetweenÑ

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

249

or sometimes during Ñ mouthfuls, she grilled Amos
about Bethel.

"Sounds dull," she said at last

"I thought so, too," Amos said, pushing a bowl of
steamed millet closer^aher. She shoveled several help-
ings onto her platband heaped them with sour cream
and chives.

"Joat," Channa said gently. "That really doesn't go
with pineapple slices, you know."

"Why not?" Joat asked, turning to her with a milk
mustache on her upper lip. The girl licked it away with
satisfaction as Channa searched for a reply, gave up,
and turned her attention back to Amos.

"Hiding away all that stuff was smart of Channa,"
she said thoughtfully. "Always gotta have supplies in
your bolt-hole unless you're fardlin* stupid."

"Sound strategy," Amos said seriously.

He certainly seems to be good with children, Channa
thought, stirring her food around with her fork. Girls
don't bother him. Not pre-pubescent ones, at least.

In her inner ear, Simeon began to croon an ancient
song: 'Across a croooowded room..."

"Shut up," she subvocalized.

"This place has got more back-alleys than you'd
believe," Joat was saying. "Not like a ship at all, really.
You can get anywhere from anywhere and ain't nobody
can stop you, if you know where you're goin'. Some of
the places pinch grudly, but they're in-able if you're
sveltsome."

"I would have thought it much like a ship of space,"
Amos replied courteously. Channa could see his lips
move silently for an instant as he puzzled out Joat's
slang. That was no wonder. Half of it was her own
invention.

"A whole other order of magnitude," Simeon said.
"No mass limits on a station Ñ the SSS-900-C wasn't
expected to go anywhere. The outer shell was fixed, as

250

Amu McCaffny 6? SM. Stating

well as some of the major facilities, but the rest was
intended to allow organic growth up to a couple of
hundred thousand people, max. We've found natural
expansion is the best way to stabilize a real community,
as opposed to a transient community, like a passenger
vessel."

"That is good sense," Amos said meditatively. "On
my family's estate, planning towns was similar. If you
set down every detail, the place has no life. When
Uncle Habib decides to put his tobacco store next to
Aunti Scala's pastry shoppr Brother Falken's saddlery,
and that brings an ice-cream parlor, it then follows that
the town becomes a living and efficient entity."

"Why do you talk so funny?" Joat asked.

"Why doyou talk so funny?" Amos parried, and they
both laughed. "Because Bethel was cut off for so long. We
did not even screen or broadcast data from other worlds,
so our people's way of speech changed litde, and those
changes differed from those in the Central Worlds, which
had dealings with many other worlds and cultures."

"Central Worlds?" Joat asked. "Oh, you're fardlin' Ñ
'cuse me Ñ way off there. This is the hikstik, frontier,
you know."

"To you, not me." He paused. "I think, Joat, that
someone besides yourself should know of these hidden
ways of yours."

"You should see it," she said enthusiastically. "You
wouldn't believe what's back there!"

"I would very much like to see it,1* he told her grave-
ly. "But, I have not much time left for my studies." Her
face fell. "Still," he said," I think that it is important that
trusted people, other than just you and Simeon,
should know these back ways of yours. Would you be
willing to show my friend, Joseph?"

"He's your head honcho, hey?"

"My brother and my right hand," Amos said seriously.

"Okay, if he's nanna grudly."

THE Cnr WHO FOUGHT

251

Amos gave up trying to interpret that remark and
glanced over at Simeon's image in the screen.

"Grudly," the brain said in his most professorial. "An all
purpose negative. In this context Ñ 'not too grudly1 Ñ
stniight-laced, conventional, boring, unimaginative.**

"No, no. To tel^the truth and shame the devil,
Joseph was, in feet, a <Jockside desperado when I met
him, "Amos said

Joat lit up, her urchin smile taking a year or two off
the extra time life had dealt her, so that she looked
twelve. "Sure! I'll be glad to show Joseph around.
Whenever you like."

"Thank you. And now I must return to my studies."
He sighed theatrically and rose.

"I know how you feel," Joat said, shaking her head in
resignation.

"He's made a conquest there," Channa subvocalized.
"Wonder how he did it?"

"Joat is no longer a feral child," Simeon pointed out
"We broke the ground for him. Being glamorous doesn 't hurt.
And he listens to her. He's naturally interested in people, I
think, under the iveird socvHvUgious stuffthey rammeddown
his throat."

"You're right," Channa said aloud, looking dreamily
at the now dosed door of Amos' quarters.

Well, Simeon-Amos, Simeon thought, you're a hit with
both my girls. A petty observation, but couldn't he
indulge in pettiness in the privacy of his own mind?

'"Course I'm right," Joat said She was having more of
the pineapple slices, fresh from the vats, lavishly doUoped
with ice cream. "You flipping the sheets with him yet?"

*Joat!" Channa said warningly, reaching over to flick
her on the ear with thumb and forefinger.

"Watch it!" Joat said, rubbing the offended lobe. "Ill
report you to Gorgan the Organ." She grinned
unrepentandy. "I know all about it, y'know."

"You may have observed Ñ and I wouldn't put that

252

Arme McCaffrey & SM. Stating

past you for a nanosecond, but you don't understand
what you've seen. You also have no manners."
"Yeah, that's true," Joat said complacently,
"\bu needn'tact so smug about the lack," Simeon cutin.
"Why not?" Joat asked. "Lots d^ way-neat stuff you
can't do if you've got manners."

i<

My God, Channa thought, looking up from her
notescreen.

All of them were looking terrible, but Doctor
Chaundra looked old. Antt haunted as well. Channa
was a little surprised. She would have thought him one
of the ones who could handle the fear.

"Here it is,1* he said bitterly, holding up a small syn-
thetic container.

Channa automatically glanced down at the box, a
capsule dispenser, standard model, but looked more
closely at him.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" she said anxiously.
There were other medicos on the station, but only one
Chaundra. Personal factors aside, he was also the only
specialist with experience in original viral research.

"Tired is all," he said. The non-Standard accent in
his voice was stronger than usual, a trace of liquid sing-
song. He stood for a moment by her desk looking at the
box he carried, then he placed it in front of her.
"They're ready," he said, pointing to it.

Channa touched the dispenser slot and it dropped a
gelatin capsule filled with clear liquid into her palm.

"The virus," she said.

"Yes," he murmured. "1, who am a healer, have
created for you a weapon."

"A nonlethal weapon for self-defense" she said in
gende correction.

"Hopefully nonlethal. How can I be sure, with a
genetically nonstandard target population? I cannot
even be certain nobody on the station will die of it!"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

253

"The probability Ñ" Simeon began in a firm tone.

*¥_ js vanishingly small, yes, indeed," Chaundra
said. Then he sighed. "There is no sense in complain-
ing after the fact We have made enough so every man
and woman on theÇta(&>n gets five. I can't imagine
anyone being unlucty enough to need more than that.
What you do, is bite down on it. Don't swallow and
breathe it all over the Kolnari nearest you. It is con-
tagious even if swallowed, you understand, but more
so with direct contact. If the pirate wishes to kiss you, by
all means let them."

"Ugh!" Channa said, making a face.

"I've alerted the group leaders to call in at the clink
to collect dispensers for distribution to their people,"
Simeon said.

"Remind them, will you," Chaundra said, "that
anyone who uses a capsule should report as soon as
possible to the clinic for the protective shot. They'll get
a light dose then, but their ... um... victim will get
very sick indeed."

"Symptoms?" asked Channa.

"Headache, nausea, diarrhea, fever, possible
delirium." He shivered. "I must get back to my lab. So
much more needs to be done, and there is so little time
to do it all in."

"You need to sleep," Channa said firmly. "Go to bed
for a minimum of six hours."

"That's an order, Chaundra," Simeon told him, "as
of now, you're off duty until tomorrow morning."

"Yes, of course." Chaundra nodded abstractedly.
"And the volunteers," he continued, "have them in the
hospital as soon as the pirates appear. We can accelerate
the onsetÑ"

"Go to bed!" Channa took him by the arms and gave
him a little shake, finally getting his startled attention.

"Oh..." He smiled. "Good idea. Um..." He paused
at the door and blinked. "Oh, yes. Joat Ñ I have met

254

Ame McCaffrey & SM Stating

young Joat She is a bit... more mature than I thought
she was." He frowned, looking concerned. "Do you
think it will be all right, their being together so much?
Her and Seld, I mean."

Channa blinked. At least nobodyJias been unkind enough

f^	Q

to mention any grizzly tales of Joat's life story, she thought

"Uh, I don't think it will matte#" Simeon said, slightly
amused. "They'll be kept weil-occupied, you know, and
they are neither of them physically adult."

"You are very off-handed for a proper father of a
daughter," Chaundra saicl owlishly.

"Well, I am her father Ñ or will be when the papers
are completed. Truly, Chaundra, I think we can
depend on Joat to be responsible. I trust her. She may
operate on her own code of ethics, but she is more con-
sistent about it than many adults I have encountered.
I'm not worried."

Chaundra sighed. *'I wish I had a credit for every
time someone has told me that they are not worried.
They're at a volatile age and they can't even trust them-
selves. Hell," he said throwing his arms wide, "under
all this pressure, the adults on this station can't trust
themselves. How can we expect diese kids to?"

Channa felt her color rise. "We can only anticipate
the problem and talk to them and hope for the best If
they're so inclined," to her surprise, she couldn't force
herself to be more specific, "they'll find a time and place
where we can't interfere. So let's not wear ourselves
down worrying about it."

A whole new set of problems, she thought. Correcting
the damage done to Joat's psychosexual development
was probably going to take many years. Right now the
girl needed Seld to be her friend, not her bed partner.
He was definitely her friend but... Channa remem-
bered what boys were like at that age, too. There's more of
a danger that she'd break his arm. But she needs a friend.
Something else to lie sleepless and worry over. Or had

THE crrY WHO FOUGHT

255

anyone told Joat about Seld's medical problems?
privacy, she thought Seld had the right to deal with that
in his own time.

"Hey!" Simeon said. "Yoohoo! Channa! Chaundra.
You're both tired. Eveiything looks manageable when
you've had some slfep. So go sleep. We'll take care of
the capsules and we'll organize the volunteers. Don't
worry about a thing."

Chaundra sighed again and assumed a wry
expression. "Amateurs," he mumbled. "What you're
experiencing, Simeon, is denial. You can't avoid such
problems by pretending they don't exist." His
shoulders fell "I'll have Seld bring her home with him
after they're through working today." He waved good-
bye and left.

"Denial," Simeon said musingly. Strange, knowing
what he did of her past, he knew that sex was the last
thing Joat would think of as a recreational activity. That
was the commonest symptom of the particular form of
abuse she had suffered Ñ and still the idea made him
uneasy, fatherhood.

"I don't want to talk about it," Channa told him, and
marched briskly back to her desk. She sat down and
spun the box of capsules around with one finger. "I was
thinking," she said, "wouldn't it be great if we could up
the ante on these?" She looked at Simeon's column.

"Yeah, it would. But we're already putting our
people at risk. I'm not willing to do the enemy's work
for them. Y'know?"

"Mmm. True. What if we could make them believe
it's worse than it really is?"

"Hard to say without knowing their physiology, tis-
sue samples ... Oh. You're talking about a con game,
aren't you, Happy?"

"It all depends on their psychology, of course. And
I'm not happy."

"Well," Simeon said dubiously, "the Navy psych

256

Amu McCaffrey &? SM. Stirling

reports aren't too detailed. These splinter groups are
usually aberrant Generally speaking, the reports say the
Kolnari are extremely aggressive towards those they
perceive as weak, treacherous but willing to bargain with
their equals in power, and have a tight/submission reflex
towards superiors Ñ until the superiors let down their
guard, which is a sign of weakness/

"Oh, what a love-feast their culture must be!" Chan-
na said. "Hmmm. They'd be vulnerable to status and
power anxieties, then. And lots of internal rivalries."

"You betcha. Accordingtb the reports, they're also as
superstitious as horses. They know some science, but
they're not scientific, if you know what I mean."

"I think I get the picture. So?"

"We could modify some of the holo-projectors beside
the security cameras and flash 'hallucinations' for the
benefit of those who've had the virus. Auditory hal-
lucinations are no problem. I could project them and
no one would be the wiser."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah," he seemed to be whispering directly into her
ear, "and without using your implant."

"Wow," she said, touching her ear, "that's spooky.
How did you do that?"

*Just threw my voice Ñ heterodyning waves from
multiple sources. It takes practice, but as you saw, the
effect is worth it"

She shook her head, wide-eyed. "If you can come up
with something visual to go with that, they'll be run-
ning for their ships the first day."

"Can't overdo it. It'll be easiest if they're alone when
they see these things, otherwise it could be considered
suspicious. I'll sound Joat out. That girl's a fountain of
ideas."

Channa winced and forbore to ask what kind.
Chaundra's comments almost visibly flooded back into
her conscious mind.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

257

"Don't let it worry you, she's a good kid," Simeon
said emphatically.
"I don't want to think about it"

"You really are concerned about Rachel's sanity,
aren't you?"	(

Amos and Channa were settled comfortably on the
settee. Simeon had tactfully withdrawn his image from
the pillar screen, leaving a strikingly realistic crackling
fire in its place. Somehow he had even manage to repli-
cate the scent of burning cedarwood. Amos had had to
tactilely reassure himself that the fire was an image.

"Yes, she is definitely unstable," he said, his
shoulders sagging hopelessly. "Among all the other
problems, I must worry about this! It is so... sopetty."

"Humans can be a remarkably petty species," Chan-
na said philosophically. Partiddarly that hysterical bitch
Rachel. "When you get down to cases, lots of'big issues'
have been decided on personal matters. From Har-
modias and Aristogetion on down." Amos looked
blank. "Two ancient Greeks. Never mind. Briefly, a
government was overthrown because of a love-
triangle."

Amos sighed again and reached for his snifter of
brandy. "I care nothing about her and my best friend
would give his life for her," he said, shaking his head.
"ChannaÑ*

"Yes?"

"I know hereÑ" he touched his head "Ñthat this...
delusion of hers, has nothing to do with me. But here Ñ"
he touched his heart "Ñ I cannot help but feel that I must
somehow be to blame. I was a... caller-of-spirit: you
would say a preacher. Oh, yes, I knew that half the
women in those crowds were in love with me. What of it?
I would never touch any of them, for that would be
dishonorable and destroy my cause more surely than
any other oflense. The folk of Bethel are... inflexible

258

Anne McCaffrcy &7 SM. Stir&ng

about such matters. Yet if I knew and accepted love, if it
flattered my vanity, am I not in some manner respon-
sible? How desperate she must be, and how lonely. It is

sad."

Channa patted his arm anjl smiled soothingly.
"From your description, it was never this bad before. If
you're to blame, then so is everyjcharismatic politician
and holo star since time began. Her ... delusion ..,
may have been aggravated by those drugs, although
she's not responding to medication. Simeon, has
anyone talked to Chaund^a about this?"

"Not yet," he said, after a tactful pause to suggest he
hadn't been listening.

"I have decided to keep her under my eye," Amos
said, adding reluctandy, "Mental care, the cure of souls.
It is part of our religion that only those consecrated can
perform cures of the human soul."

"Mmm." Your religion sucks wind, she thought silently,
No sense in offending Amos, of course. Humans
shouldn't be forced to take religion. That should be free
choice. "Maybe we'd better let Chaundra know that
Rachel isn't responding to treatment. She may need
stronger calmers. Let's face it, when the pirates arrive,
you're going to have a surfeit of problems to keep
under your eyes."

"I can keep my eye on more than one thing at a time,
Channa," Simeon cut in abruptly. "Simeon-Amos?"

He nodded. **I agree with Channa. I will speak with
the doctor of this. This is my burden, my obligation. I
will do it." He rose and disappeared into his room,
shoulders bowed.

Channa shook her head, "You'd think he was send-
ing her off to be executed."

"Who knows how his people view psych treatment?
Confession seems to be a major element in their
religion. To him, treating this as a medical problem
could be equivalent to blasphemy."

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

259

"Hmph." She turned to squint at his column. "By
the way, don't try to tell me that you didn't enjoy that lit-
tle interruption, Simeon. I know you too well by now."

"Okay." His voice was downright cheery.

She smiled rueful jy. "Just don't make a habit of it,

okay?"	i

"There are no guarantees in life, Channa."

"Oh, no? If I ever get the idea that you're engineer-
ing any more little disruptions of my love life, /
guarantee that you'll regret it."

"Hey, be reasonable, Channa! What could I possibly
have to do with Rachel going bonkers? I didn't even let
her into the lounge. I could have, y'know."

Channa shrugged and grunted.

"I thought about not telling you she was trying to
beat the door down, I really did. But then I figured
she'd go grab a laser and cut her way in. And, of course,
if she had caught you two in flagrante delicto, she
wouldn't have stopped at cutting up doors."

"Oh, thank you, Simeon, you are such a hero, saving
me from a fete worse than death and death itself. Con-
sider yourself hugged and slobbered over in an ecstasy
of gratitude."

"That's short for 'my attitude's back,' isn't it?"

She got up and started for her room. "Yes, Simeon,
my attitude's back."

"Well, why? What did I do?"

She spun on her heel and threw up her hands. "I'm
horny, all right? I'm horny and I'm frustrated!" The
door snapped shut behind her.

Simeon shut down his pickups in the lounge, escap-
ing the charged atmosphere in the only way he could.
Sheesh, he thought. Softshells -were strange.

CHAPTER FlrffcEN

"Nothing, Great Lord. Nothing but rebroadcasts of
the same warning message."

Tsssk. You have had no success in monitoring inter-
nal communications?"

"No, Great Lord."

This time Baila's voice held a slight touch of resent-
ment This was no backwater, no half-barbarian slum
that used electro-magnetic signals for internal com-
munication. This was a sophisticated Central Worlds
installation they were planning to attack. It had inter-
nal optical circuitry. What did the Great Lord expect
her to do? Fly over to the station and burn her way
through to tap a line?

We are all impatient, Belazir thought. The Clan
impulse was to leap upon the prey and take it Loot it
bare, move on. They had been very successful follow-
ing that course of action for a long time.

"Any other ships?"

"None since that freighter who acknowledged their
warning beacon and sheered off," she said.

"Serig."

"Command me, lord." The verbal formula was more
than routine in Serig's mouth; he fairly quivered with
anticipation.

"We will move in exactly one-point-five hours from
next day-cycle termination." This was about three hours
Terran Standard time, since Kolnar rotated more slowly
than Manhome. "All vessels to launch their seekers simul-
taneously and then begin subspace jamming pulses.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

261

Cftwigter and Age of Darkness will remain on combat over-
^vatch, ready to provide fire support as necessary. Dreadful
Bricte and Shark will move in to the upper and lower polar
axis respectively and force-dock, then occupy the station.
Here are the areas tabesjcured."

His hands keyedja sequence, and the schematic of
the SSS-900-C was overlaid with color-coded plans for
movement.

"Move swiftly! Crush any sign of resistance with
utmost force. If resistance slows the infantry down,
secure those decks and blow them open to space. I will
be with the second wave at the north polar axis."

"Lord."

"Captain Lord Pol is not to disembark before the tar-
get is fully secured. Those are my orders. Repeat them
to her in the message."

"I hear and obey, Great Lord," Serig said. He made a
few notes to himself. "Tightbeam?"

"Of course."

"I may lead the assault party?"

Belazir and his henchman shared an identical wolf
grin. "Of course."

Joseph ben Said nodded gravely. "I am glad that you
have shown me these things, Joat."

Joat looked downshaft between her legs Ñ it was the
only way to see the Bethelite's face since they were both
climbing up Ñ and smiled cockily. They had paused at
this intersection with two small feeder ducts so she
could give him directions. He had hooked one thick
arm around a rung so he could squint down the other
shafts.

"You learn pretty quick," she said. "Hey, and you
don't get fordled up in a tight spot, neither."

Joseph's square fece split in a raptor's smile. *Joat-
my-friend, where I grew up one learned quickly, or
one died. Also I spent much time in narrow places.

262

AjmeMcCaffrey&SM. Storting

Sewers and tunnels, rather than ductwork, but the
principle is the same."

"Yeah, I guess we got a lot in common," she said. You,
poor bastard, she added to herself. -Not aloud. Evidently
these oscos were sensitive about Iqiguage.

"But I am surprised that you can move with such
freedom when any section can be closed off and air-
evacuated," Joseph went on. He cracked his
thick-fingered hands reflexively, and took out a long
curved knife to trim a callus. "And then there are the
maintenance servos, also centrally controlled."

"Yeah, well, you gotta look at that sort of thing from
the bottom up," Joat said. "Follow me."

They muscled upward, back and legs against
opposite side of the passageway, then crawled out into
a slightly wider connecting way.

"See? There's the seal," she said, running one finger
along the edge of the octagonal opening where the two
ducts crossed.

"Ah." Joseph peered more closely. "I see Ñ a thin
sheet?"

"Naw, interlocking pointed wedges, 's stronger or
some fardling thing. Don't get in the way if it's gonna
dose. They don't have no safety pressure stops here
where people aren't supposta be, so they'll cut you
right in half."

Joseph nodded, continuing his examination. "And
this?" He touched a slight bulge.

"Access panel. Here."

Joat brought up a square piece of electronics from
her harness and touched it The bulge withdrew into
the wall. Inside were readouts, a keypad, and a
datajack. She squirmed until her backpack was on the
floor between her knees, then pulled out a jackline
from her Spuglish and clipped it into the socket

The machine lit. Hello, Joat, scrolled across it.
Simeon's gone bye-bye wurfi

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

26S

"What is that?" Joseph said, fascinated.

"I usta think it was Simeon in a grudly strange come-
down," Joat said, her fingers flying in a rapid
taptaptapt^tiptip. "Only it isn't. 'S just a really neato AI
program running ©a the station main computers.
Fools ya, y'know? ^eaTeasy to get to thinking it's a real
person, but it isn't. Smart piece of junk, but I can get
around it. When it thinks you're Simeon, it really
comes down as an animal"

Hello, Simeon, the screen printed. What's up, boss?
Huh? Huh?

Joat's fingers scrambled. Nothing much, she keyed.
Updating Shame on Me, she added.

Don't rightly know that one, pardner, the machine
replied. Uhyip. The tip of Joat's tongue was clenched
between her teeth in a rictus of concentration. At last,
she leaned back and sighed, cracking her fingers two-
handed.

"Now it thinks I'm Simeon again," she said.

" 'Shame on Me'?" Joseph enquired.

"Fool me once," Joat said, quoting, "shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me."

Joseph's laugh was quiet and appreciative. Joat felt
the quiet glow of satisfaction you only got from another
operator. Seld was neat, but he wasn't a ... Well, he
wasn't grown up, in the special way Joseph was grown
up. She'd known a lot of people who were grown-up
that way, but Joseph was the first one she had ever liked
or trusted.

"So you manipulate the system through the central
computer?" he said.

"Naw, not most of the time. Too con-spick-cue-us.
Finkin' obvious, in fact. There's a distributed node sys-
tem, fambly thousands of little compus, all got backup
authority, if you can cut in. And nobody cuts in like
jack-of-all-trades, my man."

Joseph clapped a hand on her shoulder. She

264

AnneMcCaffny &f S-Af. Stirimg

stiffened and stared at it. He took it away, not snatching
or lingering, either.

"How did you pick this up?" he said in admiration,
pointing at her Spuglish.

"Dad." Fdrdlmg swiney. "Learned more from the
bastard who won me from my uncle," she said. "He was
smart, really smart, when he wasnX drunk or... well,
when he was sober. Knew his way around any system
there was. Never got caught, except once."

"Who by?" Joseph asked.

Joat turned her face toward him, and for a moment
it was not a child's face at all. "Me," she said softly. "He
forgot me. And I cracked his system. They think he's
still alive. He went thataway out the lock, peeing blood.
His ship's computer said everything was fine."

"Well," Joseph said with a cold smile, "if it's good
enough for the official records, it's good enough for
me. Now, show me how you decouple the local subsys-
tems again."

"Like, it's got to be physical," Joat went on, animated
again. "YouÑ"

"I am glad to see you two are friends," Amos said.

Joat and Joseph had walked in the door laughing
uproariously, slapping each other on the shoulder.

Joseph smiled at his leader and bowed formally,
hand on heart. "My brother, you have done me a great
favor by introducing me to this young sorceress," he
said. "And our cause."

"You guys are brothers?" Joat asked suddenly.

"No," was the spontaneous answer from Channa,
Simeon, and Amos.

"Oh?" Joat looked from one to the other, frowning
slightly, then she shook her head dismissing the prob-
lem. "Yeah, we had a great time!" she went on. *Joe
here picks things up pretty good, for a grown-up."

"For a grown-up?" Amos said, raising a brow.

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

265

"You know," Joat explained kindly, "for somebody
who's old"

Amos pursed his lips. He was a year older than
Joseph. "I am glad to see you found him worthy," he
said dryly.	_ Ç,j

"Yeah, I did. JojU frowned. "Can I ask you some-
thing?" she said.

"By all means, foster daughter of Channa," Amos
said.

"Most grown-ups are funny about kids knowing
things," she said. "You aren't. How come?"

Amos blinked. "You are... what, twelve?" he said.

"'Bout. Gets hard to tell when you do a lot of FTL 'n
some coldsleep."

"At your age, I was running my family's estates,"
Amos said. "Of course, 1 would not have been, had my
father lived. Sons of poorer folk are apprenticed at
twelve, doing a day's work and paying for their own
food. Should I be surprised if you can do likewise?"

Joat glowed. "At last" she said, turning triumphantly
to Channa. "Told you I'd learn more doing a real job!"

"What did I say?" Amos asked, flinching at the glare
Channa leveled at him.

"Promised I'd go catch Seld," Joat said, wolfing down
the last of her breakfast and sticking a few pieces of
fruit in the pockets of her shapeless overall. "Ta-ta, all."

"Speaking of the Chaundras," Channa said mean-
ingfully, glancing at Amos. "I have to run. MoreÑack!
pftht! Ñ meetings. Don't forget"

Joseph waited until silence had fallen again, then
looked at Amos with concern. "Something is wrong
with you, my brother?"

Amos looked at his plate. "No," he said. He gestured
Joseph to a seat, but stood himself, his hands clasped
behind his back. "There is nothing wrong with me.
This concerns Rachel." He held up his hand to forestall

266

Aime McCaffrty 6? 5M. Stirling

Joseph's protest. "Let me finish. She came here the
other night, furious, raving. She claimed we were
betrothed. Her eyes, Joseph! They were wild, and she
shook . .. her face was so white."-.He looked at his
friend. "Our Rachel is shaking to njeces before our
eyes. I am going to tell Chaundra what I have told you,
and if he decides that she needs treatment, then she
shall have it"

Joseph nodded jerkily, resting his face in one hand.
His shoulders moved convulsively, then he steadied.

"I am grateful that you sbare your thoughts with
me," he said. "Though you now stand as her father."

"We have no Healer of Souls here, Joseph," Amos
said with deep remorse.

"So Rachel must lose her soul's privacy before an
infidel, an outsider," Joseph replied.

"I had not thought you so pious."

Joseph sighed, shaking his head wearily. "It is strange
how ingrained is the training of one's childhood. At the
last, I find I, too, am a son of the Temple."

"If you truly are against such procedures, I will not
force her," Amos said.

Joseph rose and gave Amos the embrace ofbrothers.
"Thank you," he said, "but, if my heart rebels, my mind
tells me you are right... damnably right That is an
irritating habit you have, Amos ben Sierra Nueva."

Amos grinned. "So I have been told. To myself not
least, brother. Do you wish to be with her?"

Joseph hesitated, then shook his head. "No," he said,
after a moment "As she is... it would be no kindness. I
will continue with my work." His mouth quirked.
"Work is truly the mercy of God, as the Prophet said.
No?"

"I find more truth in his words every time I return to
them," Amos replied seriously, his hand on the other
man's shoulder. "Truth too strong for the chains of
dogma. Go in peace."

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

267

To make ready for war," Joseph observed.

Amos laughed ruefully. "Another truth the Prophet
left us: 'Ifyou would have peace, then prepare for war/ "

"What a pity the Elders thought that meant the
spiritual struggle alone," Joseph said.

"The Prophetwas a ftirprisingly practical man,"
Amos observed. "I strive to emulate him."

"You do so. You do so very well," Joseph replied and
bowed formally: a rare gesture between them.

"Let's $o get Seld Chaundra," Joat suggested when
Joseph caught up to her at the elevator. "We're sup-
posed to go into hiding when the pirates show up, so
he'll need to see this stuff, too."

"I have no objection," Joseph said mildly.

"You and Simeon-Amos fighting about something?"
she asked blundy.

"No." Joseph shrugged. "We are angry together, at
what is and cannot be changed."

"Yeah, life's like that," Joat observed.

They reached the main corridor and took two
people movers down from the wall. Joseph looked a lit-
tle dubious as he stepped onto the disk. As it silently
lifted from the floor, he gripped the handhold tightly
with one broad spatulate hand. Joat showed Joseph the
address to tap to reach the Chaundras' home. The litde
floatdisks took off, dodging agilely through traffic and
summoning elevators when their route took to the
upper decks.

Seld himself opened the door.

"Hi," he said somewhat nervously.

"Hi, this is Joseph ben Said," Joat said indicating the
swarthy man beside her. "Simeon-Amos suggested that I
take him round, and I thought you might like to come."

"Aw, I'd love to," he said, all eagerness which dis-
solved the next moment. "I can't I'm grounded."

"You're what?" Joat asked, puzzled.

268

AnneMcCaffrey &SM. Stating

Seld blushed to the roots of his auburn hair; the
colors dashed horribly. "I'm being disciplined. I can't
leave our quarters."

Joat's expression was amused andaghast. Glad I don't
have parents, she thought. / won't get stigk someplace I don't
want to be.

"Geeze, Seld, your dad can't seemj&o get it right First
it's too much 'go,' now it's too mucn stay." She shook
her head in awe. "You can't win playing that way. So
come anyhow," she added, cocking her head at him.

"I can't," he repeated, glancing nervously at Joseph.
The Bethelite crossed his arms and looked at the ceil-
ing, humming an idle tune.

"He's okay," Joat assured him. "Why not?"

"'Cause Dad's gonna call and check up on me."

Joat rolled her eyes. "So call in to the answering
machine ev'ry so often. If he's called, you can call back
and say he caught you in the head. He's so worried
about your safety, Seld, he should worry more if you
don't know this. You gotta know your way around the
backside of the station. Hey! If it really bothers you we
can ask Simeon to help, or Joseph ... ?" She turned
appealing eyes up to his.

Joseph uncrossed his arms. "I believe it could be put
to your father Ñ" He broke off, his eyes focused on
some one in the corridor beyond Joat. "Rachel?"

Rachel bint Damscus stopped, looking him coldly up
and down. "Well, Joseph ben Said. I wonder, do you
have any messages that you are withholding from me?"

He was nonplussed. "Whatever are you talking
about, my lady?"

"No lady of yours, peasant," she said, spitting the last
word at him, her eyes wide and flashing. "Amos told me
that he had delegated you to inform me that he was
moving in with that lanky, sallow-faced slut. But you,
apparently, chose not to tell me. Why is that?"

"We are at war," he said shortly. "Time is short.

THE Cm WHO FOUGHT

269

Rachel bint Damscus, be known to Joat," he said, ges-
turing courteously to her, "the foster daughter of
Simeon. Be known also to Seld Chaundra."

Rachel looked at the two young people as though he
had introduced her to a pair of rodents. "Simeon... ?"
she said, picking up whit was important to her.

"Yes," he hissed In a whisper, moving closer to her.
Nat now, his expression said. Spare these children.

"Who is this 'Simeon* that everyone addresses with
such respect?"

"He and Channa run the station," Joat told her.

"Ah," Rachel said, looking at her with a false smile,
"does that make you the whore's foster-daughter, too?*

Joseph's hand moved very quickly, deflecting Joat's
hand, which was halfway to delivering what it held.

"Drop it," he said. "Now, Joat."

Struggling against his grip, Joat drew her lips back from
her teeth, but she had to comply. The grip on her wrist was
not tight enough to hurt, but it had the implacable solidity
of a mechanical grab. The Bethelite wrenched the small
squarebox from her with his other hand.

"Weapon?" he said, turning it over briefly. "Do not
strike without thinking, Joat. And rarely from anger.
That causes problems, always." He handed her back
the gadget "Wait."

Rachel's face had turned an ugly mottled color,
partly from fright and partly from being humiliated.
Her complexion went brick-red as Joseph grabbed
her by the upper arm and began to pull her further
down the corridor.

"Take your hands from my arm, peasant," she shouted.
Joseph ignored her stolidly, as he did her attempts to halt
their movement "Let goofme!" she shrieked.

Passersby turned at the sound of her voice. Joseph
cast a look up and down the corridor. There was little
privacy here and none within easy reach. He released
her arm and spoke in a firm low voice.

270

Anne McCaffrey fc? SM Stating

"My lady, you are not yourself. The coldsleep
medications have affected your ... balance. Please,
accompany me to the sickbay and Ñ"

"Yes! Back to the infidel doctor,.,so he can drug me,
poison me, leave so-wonderful Amo&to wallow between
the thighs of thats/w*, thata^wn?Ñ

He reached out a hand, a pleading gesture. Rachel

¥¥	i*    " tj

struck it away with the contempt she would have dealt
a spider.

"Don't touch me, you peasant whore's-get! You
make me sick. Don't touch me>"

She struck again, a hard ringing slap across his face,
backhanding him again and again. Joseph's head moved
only a little on his thick muscular neck, although a trickle
ofblood started from his nose and the corner ofhis mouth.
On the fourth slap, he caught her hand. She began to
thrash, trying to free herself from that implacable grip. He
turned her hand, exposing bleeding cuts where her
knuckles had smashed against teeth and bone.

"My lady," he said, cutting through her shrill cries.
"Strike me if you will, but you will hurt your hand
using it so. Here, take this."

His free right hand made a small flip, and a knife
appeared in it: a short leaf-bladed dagger with a plain
leather-wrapped hilt, looking sharp enough to cut
light. Rachel shrieked and pulled back again, but
Joseph's hand made another movement, holding out
the hilt. He waited, his eyes on hers. Silence fell broken
only by Rachel's rapid, gasping breath. The bystanders
were crowding away, their voices sunk to a murmur.
Then Rachel pulled loose and ran, blundering into a
corner as she scrambled out of sight down a side aisle.

Joseph clicked the knife into its wrist-sheath, his eyes
thoughtful. Wiping his face on a kerchief, he returned
to the two adolescents.

"1 don't think I like her," Joat said laconically.

"I apologize," he said quietly. "Lady Rachel was

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

271

gendy reared. She is suffering from stress and adverse
reactions to medication."

"She's bughouse," Joat said bluntly. He's gone on her,
she thought- Geh! What afardlm' waste. People should
reproduce the way bacteria did, splitting cells. That was
cleaner. Even angrudies like Joe got strange when
they had the hots. *

Joseph frowned at her. "Negative reaction, as I said.*1

"Yeah, bughouse, like I said.... Okay, forget it How
did you do that thing with the knife?"

"Spring-loaded sheath," Joseph said, obviously
relieved to change the subject. He bent back his wrist
and showed them.

Joat glanced at Seld, caught his eye. He shook his
head in silent agreement. Adults! They're nuts.

Channa stumbled into the lounge and fell facefirst
into the cushions of the couch. "I hate commuting," she
said with a theatrical groan.

"Hah!" was Simeon's mocking comment. "Call that
commuting? Why, in my grandfathers' day..."

"In your grandfathers' day," she said pulling herself
into a sitting position, "they probably commuted by
ox-cart through subspace and drifts of snow fourteen
feet high, and that was in high summer, being dive
bombed by stinging insects the size of ore-freighters,
just to borrow a cup of sugar from their next-door
neighbor three light years away. I," she said, indicating
herself with a delicate hand and a raised eyebrow, "am
not as hardy. And 1 hate to commute."

"Not a problem I'm likely to have," he commented.

"No!" she agreed.

"So I should just offer sympathy and under-
standing," he suggested.

"Absolutely, and I, of course, will accept this with
gratitude as the very balm my bruised and battered
spirit craves."

272

Anne McCaffiq &f 5M. Stirling

"Poor baby."

"Ah," she sighed. "Well! I feel better. What's new on
the home front?"

"Apparently Joat's gotten Selchgrounded until he
turns twenty-one."	3*

"How'd she manage that?"

"Chaundra disciplined him foff itaying behind and
she talked him into exploring the station with her and
Joseph."

"Poor Seld. What's Joat's reaction?"

"Oh, it's all her fault, she's got the kiss of death or
something...."

"Seld staying behind is her fault?"

"No, no. It's all her fault. The minute we decided to
adopt her, Bethel was attacked, so that Amos escaped,
the pirates chased him and the station is now
endangered. You see the logical sequence of events.
One of her depressed moods."

Those tended to be temporary but of unpredictable
duration.

"I can't deny," she said, fighting a laugh, "that the
logic's inescapable when the data is structured in that
fashion."

They were still laughing when Amos came in.

"What causes such merriment?" he asked, grinning.

Channa looked at his handsome face, and it seemed
to her that for a moment the station stood still.

"Oh," Simeon told him, "the horrors of being
twelve."

Amos shuddered. "Indeed," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Would that all horrors were both so transient and so
amusing in retrospect. I fell in love with the cook.
When that was over, I decided I was religiously
inspired Ñ and never recovered from that."

Channa gave an involuntary snort of laughter,
glanced over at him to be sure, then dissolved in
whooping gales of laughter.

THE CnY WHO FOUGHT

273

"At least," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of
her hand, "you don't take yourself too seriously."

"I cannot afford to," Amos said, bowing with hand on
breast "Far too many others do. If dieir prophet cannot
laugh at himself now and then, they are lost as weH."

"My adolescence ^s^vorse," Simeon said. They
turned and looked at tfce pillar. "Imagine my pure,
unsullied, young self thrust among hardened asteroid

miners."

"It certainly left its mark," Channa said dryly.
"No one escapes without being marked," Amos said

wisely.

"And no one gets out alive," they all said together.

"Are you talking about the station?" Joat asked in
horror, emerging from her room.

"No, no," Channa said. "Life." Teenage life, actually,
but let's not be specific right now.

Joat began to rearrange Channa's desk, banging
down the implements.

"It's so stupid!" she said, clattering a note organizer
screen down.

"What is?" Simeon said, soothingly. Sometimes that
tone annoyed Joat so much she forgot what was trou-
bling her. This time she was too focused.

"Seld," she said. "I mean, this could be the last week
of our lives and Seld is locked in his room! What a great
way to go! Y'know?"

No one answered her. Channa and Amos wouldn't
meet her eyes. A look of mild exasperation crossed her
features and she tried another tack.

"Look, I need him," she said earnestly. "He's really
pretty good, in ajunior-grudly way, hey? I want to help.
Y'know? So, I thought we, Seld and me, could ..." She
stopped, tapped her fingertips together and stared
upward, biting her lip. "I thought we could maybe make
up some of those signal disrupters I use," she said in a
rush.

274

Anne McCaffrey &? SM. Stating

"You mean the ones that keep me from seeing or
hearing you?"

"Yeah," Joat appeared fascinated by her fingernails,
"Those."

'Joat, you could do that in the engineering lab.
Anyone there will be happy t5* help you. If we get
enough people assembling thje elements, we could
make quite a few in the time we h'ave left."

"No," Joat said and sat down, looking right at Simeon's
column. "I mean, I like the idea of working in the
engineering lab, don't getpae wrong on that But the sig-
nal disruptor is my idea, and I'm not going to just give it
away. I know I'mjust a kid, but I know you don't dothat."

"I'm not going to let anybody steal the credit for your
invention, Joat. I fully intend to watch out for your
interests. I give you my word on that"

"Thank you," she said simply. A silence fell, oddly
solemn. After a moment, Joat continued, "Y'know, it's
probably not a good idea to have too many of them
around. I mean, the more there are, the more likely
some jerk will lose one and the pirates will find it and
figure it out, then where'U we be?"

"A valid point," Channa said judiciously.

"So," Joat slapped her legs, then rubbed her palms
up and down her thighs, "what I thought was, Seld and
me could make up enough for you guys," she turned
to point at Amos and then at Channa, "and as many of
the councilreps or team leaders as we can." She looked
at the adults' faces, checking their expressions, then
turned to Simeon's column. "Whaddaya say?"

"I'd say you're a heartless hard-bargainer, a blackmailer,
and a techno-witch. That said, I'D talk to Chaundra, and I
think hell allow Seld to assist on an authorized project But
use more sense next time, Joat. When I adopt you, you're
going to have limits, too. Oh, and don't work him too hard.
He's just not..." Simeon tried to finish the caution
diplomatically "... the hardy type."

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

275

"I know," she said softly, nodding solemnly. "Ill take
care of him, I promise." Then she smiled a tight,
professional-looking little smile, and rose. "Well, good-
night, everybody."

"Goodnight," they wished her in return.

When-the door ha4 closed behind her, Amos looked
warmly at Channi, then dropped his eyes. "I, too, am
weary, and there is still so much to learn."

"Do what you can," Channa advised, "and play the
rest by ear."

"And don't forget," Simeon told him, "all you have to
do is ask and I'll try to help. Channa, why don't you
give him that contact button now?"

"Yes." From a desk drawer, she took a small box,
which she presented to Amos.

"We should probably give one to both Joat and
Seld," Simeon suggested.

Channa nodded.

Amos took out the small button curiously.

"That gadget will let me see what you see, hear what
you hear, and respond in relative privacy," Simeon told
him.

"It is so small," Amos said, examining the tiny device.

"But so effective," Simeon answered through the
button.

Startled, Amos dropped it.

"I can see that it could be very useful," he said,
laughing as he retrieved it. "Thank you, Simeon."

Channa hesitated. "See you in the morning."

"Yes, altogether too briefly," he replied, giving her a
rueful bow.

Channa yawned hugely and looked up at the time
display. Evening again already! Almost time for dinner.
Hopefully it would be more cheerful than breakfast,
which had been subdued in the extreme. "Gods,
another day gone? Where is everyone?"

276

Anne McQffiey &SM. Stirling

"Amos is on his way back home and should be here
any second," Simeon said. "Joat is committing
illegalities in the engineering lab, chortling madly with
Seld, when I can pick them up at all Siie'll be back here
to eat, or so I believe her plan to be." ^

Channa stretched. "I need a break." She flopped
into an easy chair and said, "Woul$ you put on the
'Hebrides Suite/ please?"

He listened to it for a moment and said, "This is

nice.

*One of my favorites. My great-grandmother once
told me that this music held the soul of Earth's oceans
in its phrases. I've loved it ever since."

"Your great-grandmother was from Earth, Channa?"
"No, but she'd been there. Oh, this is my favorite
partÑa litde louder, Sim."

She raised her hand, palm up to show that he should
raise the volume again, and again. The door opened
on Amos, who stepped backward as though the mag-
nificent swell of sound had washed him out on a wave
of music.

Channa laughed at his startled expression and sig-
naled Simeon to lower the sound. "Sorry," she called.

Amos poked his head incautiously, "Whew!" he said.
"Channa, it is dangerous to play music at such volume.
Your hearing will be impaired."

She made a face at him. "Don't be a priss, Simeon-
Amos. No one ever lost their hearing on classical
music."

"Beethoven?" Simeon suggested.
"Hah!" she said. "You men all stick together," and
stumbled to the galley for coffee. When she had doc-
tored it with cream liqueur and whipped Jersey
floating on the surface, she took an appreciative sip.
"Ah! That's good!" Although when I learned where Jersey
originally came from, Inearly lost -my lunch, she added to
herself Simeon had picked up on her tastes quickly.

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

277

"Now, that is something I feel I've missed out on,"
Simeon said.

"Mmmh?"

"Coffee, food, everyone who sits down to dinner at
¥the Perimeter says, 'Wow! That smells good!' closely
foDowed by 'MnimfThft is delicious!' and I haven't got
an analogue for either of those sensations. Smell and
taste Ñ you'd think they could have given me one of
'em. Oh, 1 can taste when something's offin the chemo-
synthesis plants, and I can smell an ion-trail, but it's not
the same'thing. Sometimes the people at Medic Central
are downright inhumanly utilitarian."

"Why don't you put Joat on it?" Channa suggested.

"Put me on what?" Joat asked, arriving at that point.

"I was just saying that I've missed out on tasting
coffee, or smelling it even, everyone says it smells so
good. I don't even know what that means. I just
can't get my mind around the concept. I don't like
the feeling that I'm being denied one of life's
greatest pleasures. However, the thought of anyone
poking about with my neural interfaces is enough to
keep the thought merely wistful."

Channa and Amos locked eyes a moment, then flick-
ed away. Not before Simeon had caught the look.

"That's terrible," Joat said sympathetically, "'though,
maybe if you gave me your specs..."

"Now, sex... sex provides a lot of mental pleasure."
Simeon continued with relish. "I'd be willing to bet that
I get almost as much sexual pleasure out of my own
imagination as anyone does actually having it."

Joat made a derisive grimace.

"I'd say in your dreams, Simeon, but that would be
redundant," Channa said archly, making her way back
to her desk. "What have you got there?" she asked,
pointing to the box in Joat's hand.

"Oh, this is something for you guys." Joat opened it
to display the two short, gleaming metal rods, perhaps

278	Anne McCaffrey 6? SJV1 Stirimg

three centimeters long, with crystals at either end. Joat
looked at Channa expectantly.

Channa took one out of the box, turning it over. In
the center of the rod was a small gap, bridged by a nar-
row tube which joined its two halves She touched the
crystals experimentally, then lookeoqueringly at Joat
"It's pretty?" she asked, puzzled at its use.

Joat laughed. "Seld said we should make 'em into
jewelry, but I figured we didn't have time to experiment
with the effect that might have. I wear mine in a sheath in
my boot" She tugged up her^pant-leg and pulled down
the cuffof her boot to show the top of an identical wand.

"How does this artifact of yours work?" Amos asked
her, picking up the other.

"You push the two halves togedier to make a contact"

Amos did so. There was a click as the two halves
came together to form a smooth even surface. He
looked at Channa and Joat, then at himself "Is ... is it
working?"

"Ask him,** Joat said, jerking her thumb at Simeon's

column.

"Simeon?"

Simeon didn't answer because he hadn't heard the
question. He had, however, seen Amos wink out of
existence, and he was experiencing some very uncom-
fortable feelings about that disappearance. Suddenly,
he was unsure that he wanted anyone besides Joat to
have this ability. Such disappearances definitely gave
him the willies.

"Apparently not," Channa said, pleased. She clicked
her own rod together and vanished from Simeon's
sight and hearing.

Amos leaned close to her. "I can already see much
potential for his device." His smiling eyes were warm
and full of meaning.

"Seld and me knocked seven of these off today," Joat
explained to Simeon. "We'll contrapt more tomorrow,

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

279

now that we've found the parts we need. What's the
matter?" she asked in response to Simeon's groan.

"Sorry, Joat, seven is pretty good really, and there's
nothing to say that we can't share these around. Right,
Channa? Channa? OUie-ollie in-free!"

Channa grinned srmigly at Amos. "He really can't
see us, can he?" Then she pulled gently at the rod.

"How nice of you to drop in," Simeon said in a sour
tone. Damned if Til let you know how much that bothers me.

"Sorry," Channa said. "I know it bothers you," she sub-
vocalized. Somehow Sim connected it with being cut off
from his sensory input. Me, now Fm a sensory input? She
turned to Joat. "Urn, do you actually have to have it on
your person for it to work? Or would it work if, say I
had it on the desk beside me?"

"It should keep you disappeared if you stay very
dose to it. You're not really blanked out It's more like a
local override command to the sensor not to record
you, you know? I didn't really measure it very close."
Joat gave a self-deprecating twitch of her hands. "I
need more theory and stuff, I know."

"Well, I'm impressed, Joat" She clapped her hands
together. "Let's celebrate, and send out for dinner." She
took the rod out of Amos's hands and unsnapped it

"You know," Simeon commented as Amos reap-
peared, "this invention of Joat's could be the biggest
boon to burglars since hacking."

Channa froze, then looked over at Joat. The girl
managed to look sweet, innocent and furtive at the
same moment. It was true. AI-driven surveillance was
universal in public places. So were attempts to
counteract it Joat's seemed to work better than most
Of course, once the device was publicized, counter-
measures would be initiated. No wonder Joat wanted to
keep her ace-in-the-hole secret.

Well, of course, she steals! Simeon whispered in her ear.
How did you think she survived before you took a hand?

280

Asme McCaffrty &SM. Stating

"Like many swords," Amos agreed, "it is two edged.
But, they will be of help, and I shall enjoy testing
mine." He smiled at Channa.

Channa looked at Simeon's column. *Just think, well
be able to keep secrets from youjSim. How will you
stand it?"

Amos tiptoed carefully out of Joat's room. "She never
woke," he said ina hall-whisper. "I put a blanket over her."

Channa shook her head. Joat's subconscious seemed
to know who to trust This evening was the first time
she had noticed die girl sleeping with the limp, irresis-
tible finality of the trusting child. She'd also had along,
hard, if triumphant, day.

"I thought she'd never get enough of your stories
about Bethel," she said. And neither would I. It didn't
have the urban sophistication of Senalgal, but Amos
could make his world and his way of life sound...
beautiful, she decided. Of course, he was an eloquent
man, and he was describing what he truly loved. He
had described what she had always yearned for in a
planet-side posting: the hugeness, the variousness, the
alweness of a breathing world.

"It was as much for me as for her," Amos said, leaning
back on the sofa and raising his face to the ceiling, eyes
dosed. "I speak, and I see what can never be again."

She put a hand on his. "Bethel will be freed and
made beautiful again. The Kolnar only stripped the
surface, not the nature of the planet"

"Yes. Yes, I believe Ñ must believe that." His fingers
curled around hers; fine long-fingered hands, a little
calloused.

from riding horses, she thought A sport she had only
read of before. Simeon had provided holos, and riding
looked more dangerous and exciting than piloting
mini-shuttles.

"Yet when the enemy are driven off, the wounds... and

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

281

beyond that We need to change, we must change. More
than I thought or wished, and I was a rebellious youngster,
a radical, a breaker of images, or so they called me." He
turned his head to her. "The enormity of the task ahead
fhghcensme, overwhelms me. Yetwithhelp..."

Oh, great, shethougAt. To herself: "Lost prince of
beautiful, exotic& planet, seeks helpmate/com-
panion/lover to assist in rescue/reconstruction.
Requires intelligent, forceful manager with strong
sense of duty. Will furnish lifelong love and affection,
plus palaces, estates, interesting experiences. Apply
Amos ben Sierra Nueva." What was that quotation?
Get thee behind me, Satan?

Amos sat quietly beside her and placed Joat's box in
her lap. His glance was filled with meaning. Channa
opened the box and they each took out a crystal-tipped
rod. Then diey glanced at Simeon's column with iden-
tical scheming smiles and clicked the two parts
together.

Amos leaned over. They kissed; she stroked his dark
hair and gently cupped the back ofhis head in her hand.

"It is good to have privacy," he said huskily.

"Yes," she agreed, "it is good." And it adds spice, she
thought Like sneaking out of bounds when you're in school.

Simeon watched Channa's door open and close,
though no one appeared to be near it He suppressed a
burst of resentment He had told them he'd turn off the
sensors if they requested it. But no, they'd just gone
and shut him out without a word...

What is the universe coming to ? he thought in irritation.
Besides, there's a child present!

A child who had presented him with a techno-itch he
could not scratch. On reflection, he decided the anal-
ogy was maddeningly accurate. Try as he might, his
attention came looping back to the nagging gaps in his
recordings. He was accustomed to knowing everything

282

Atme MeQtfny fc? SM. Stirling

THE Cnr WHO FOUGHT

283

that went on. Joat's earlier white-noise machines and
attention-deflectors were minor irritations compared
to this newest gadget Of course, she hadn't had access
to the engineering labs before this.

"The child was probably bopo with a microtool in
her hand," he muttered. Now, how did the wands func-
tion? Joat had, after all, given h*pi a hint She might be
a genius, but Simeon was a shellperson, with all the
computer power and experience that implied.

And I'm also constitutionally unable to resist picking tip the
gauntlet, he thought happily. There were times when the
only way to get nd of a temptation was to give in to it...

/ can't betieue this, he told himself, fifteen minutes later.
Equipment made by the best minds in the Central
Worlds flummoxed by a preteen! Which confirmed long-
held thoughts about the quality of minds attracted to the
Central Worlds bureaucracy. Simeon had long thought
that it was a private miracle he hadn't come out pros-
thetized into a camel, since the design teams were
committees. Now, he must meet this challenge.

Chaniia arched her back against Amos's weight, her
hands caressed the slick, silken skin of his back. He
kissed her throat and she sighed happily, ready forÑ

"Oh, Chaaannaaa, Iseeeyooou."

HAck,ckgak!"

Amos raised his head from the crook of her neck to
look at her. The mixture of puzzlement and sensuality
on his face looked very silly, not to mention slightly
nauseated. Simeon laughed.

Oh, this is terrible, Channa thought. Yet it was impos-
sible not to see the moment from Simeon's point of
view for a second. She laughed, caught between rage
and helpless mirth. Amos bobbed up and down with
her laughter. His expression assumed a martyred
quality that caused her to lose control completely.

"Channa," he said desperately, rolling off and holding

her in his arms. "Channa, my darling Ñ are you all
right?"

She struggled to speak, to reassure him that her sanity
was intact "Sim... Sim... he... hehe... hehehe," she
had to avoid the word he. "Sim..." she gasped, "my
implant... he... he^ie,^nmrrmph... can see us."

She stopped, panting and watched his look of con-
cern melt Suddenly she was slightly frightened. This
was a man accustomed to redressing insult, and his ego
had just received a terribly humiliating one.

"Simeonl" he roared. The door seemed to recoil
before his headlong passage, and the cooler wind from
the lounge brought goosebumps to her skin.

Amos picked up the first thing his hand
encountered, a vase, and threw it against Simeon's
column.

"You incest eater!" he bellowed. "You filthy pi dog!
BanchatT

Channa appeared in her doorway, wrapped in a
sheet, fve never seen a naked, erect man in a/it of rage before,
she thought dazedly. Oh, I really shouldn't have broken up.
Mengetso focused at that particular moment!

"How could you do something so vile! Have you no
decency?" Amos was demanding.

"What the hell is goin' on?" Joat asked, and stopped,
poleaxed at the sight of a naked and raging Amos.

Amos dived for the sheet Channa was wearing and
they tussled for it. He settled for dragging a small
corner of it over his hips.

He drew himself up. "Go back to bed, Joat, this does
not concern you." The pure mad anger had drained
out of his voice. Bethel had a nudity taboo, and he was
suddenly and acutely conscious of being naked before
a twelve-year-old girl.

"Don't take it out on her, Simeon-Amos, I'm the one
you're mad at," Simeon said.

Amos spun round, losing his grip on the sheet **I am

284	AimeMcCaffny&SM. Stating

unlikely to forget that!" he said between denched teeth.

"Nice buns," Joat murmured in abstract appreciation.

Channa and Amos turned to stare at her.

"Hey, you guys," she said blushing. "I'm young! I'm
not dead."	*

"What kind of people are you? Amos murmured in
shock. "Your children leer, yo#r sheUpeople are
voyeurs ..." His gaze snapped to Channa. "And you,
what sort of pervert are you?"

"Me? Oh, now wait just one minute, Simeon-Amos,
I'm a victim here, too." s'

"1 do not think so. You find this amusing, but I do
not!" Turning his back on them all, he strode to his
quarters in a fury, the door calmly swishing shut

behind him.

"Whoa!" Joat said enthusiastically. "What's a

voyeur?"

Channa's mouth firmed grimly. "A voyeur, Joat, is a
nasty-minded son of a bitch who keeps poking his nose
into private matters."

"Ah. Sorta like Dorgan the Organ from Child

Welfere."

Ouch, Simeon winced.

Channa nodded, with crisp malice. "I promise I'll
explain tomorrow, but right now I have to talk to Simeon."

"Oboyoboy," Joat said. "Are you ever in the deep
pucky, Simeon." She slapped his column on the way
back to her room. "Naughty, naughty!"

Channa hiked up the sheet and sat herself down in
one of the lounge chairs. She clasped her hands in her
lap, saying nothing, chewing her lower lip.

"Um," Simeon said. "He's still furious. He's throw-
ing things around in there."

"Stop spying on him!" Channa said irritably.

"I don't have to spy. Just listen."

It was true, even through the door the sound of objects
hitting walls could be heard. Then an ominous silence.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

285

After a minute, a fully dressed Amos emerged and left the
quarters without a backward glance or a further word.
Channa rose quickly and took a step in his direction.

"Hey! You can't follow him like that! Besides,
where'shegonnago?"

"Well... I suppose mis show of your vigilance was
our own fault," Channa said grimly. "We would chal-
lenge you." She smiled, a wintry expression. "I guess
you showed us."

Simeon gave a soft groan. "I'd rather end the eve-
ning on a positive note. I now know that I can contact
you even when their sensors can't find you."

"Yes, there is that application of tonight's experi-
ment," she said tiredly. Til be sure to point that out to
Simeon-Amos when next I see him. If I see him."

"I'm sorry, Channa," Simeon said contritely after an
awkward pause. "I was out of line."

"Yes, you were. For that particular activity, an invita-
tion is required."

"And I know that it's difficult for you folks when
coitus is interrupted."

She raised a brow. "Are you asking for information?"

"Um, nooo," he said hopefully.

"You are a swine, Simeon, an utter filthy pig! If you
want to know, look it up, in a medical text, skip the por-
nography," And then she gave a despairing laugh.
"Oh, God, hell never speak to me again. Where is he?"

"He's still on the move. At a guess, he's going to
Joseph's. Best thing for him really, a litde male bond-
ing. Maybe they'll get drunk together and complain
about how badly the women in their lives treat them."

"This woman in his life was treating him just fine
until you showed up!"

"Is it my fault he's so parochial?"

"Parochial!" Channa exclaimed. "Simeon, wrong
use of that word. A man, any man who is one, will take
offense at being spied on while making love. So now

286

Anne McQffiey 6? 5JVf. Stirling

you've called him a name, it's all his fault, and none of
your own, is that it?"

"No," he said calmly, "I still accept responsibility for
what I did. Let's not fight about Simeon-Amos, Channa."

She leaned her head against the back of the chair,
"No, let's not fight about Simeon-Amos. We don't
have time." She looked at his column from the
corner of her eye. "It occurs to me that you were
defending him not so long ago."
"Maybe I was wrong."

"No, you weren't. You jpaow it, too. We are putting a
lot of pressure on him when he'd arrived already under a
crushing weight. He's lost everything, Sim, a whole
world, family, friends. He blames himself for bringing the
pirates to our door. Now he's working himself into the
ground to save us from them. We should try very hard
not to subject him to these little power games we play."
"Ah... sure."

"Because, Simeon, if you can't, you're not the person
I thought you were. And if you aren't, I don't want to
have anything to do with you once this is over."
"Channa!"

"Think about it, Simeon. You're sixty-eight years
old. Grow up!"

Amos returned to the lounge for work the following
morning, pale, distant, and polite. Simeon found an
opportunity to apologize and convinced the Bethelite
of his sincerity, vowing never to do such a thing again.
Amos accepted the apology with the same detached
courtesy that he received Channa's explanation, then
dosed himself firmly in his room.

Dinner conversation that evening was so stilted that
even Joat noticed. It was still early when Channa was
left sitting alone next to the titanium pillar.

"Simeon, come talk to me?"

"Ah, she asks now instead of demanding."

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

287

"Your charm has humbled me," she said with a grin.
"Besides, I'm bored and really crave your company."

"You sure if s my company you crave?"

"Heh. Last night I was horny! Tonight I'm bored.
Different things, fella."

"I think that if I wei4 you, I'd rather be horny."

"Then you'd be an idiot," she said scornfully.

"But I wouldn't be bored."

She was silent a while. "Simeon, I'm scared. We
may die."

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm scared, too, Happy. Real
scared. We don't have much time left." Another

pause, and he added more brightly, "That was a

i ¥ i"
hint.

"Nah!" she said, shaking her head. "The moment
came, was interrupted, and went. Amos needs some-
one kinder than a ball-buster like me."

"Channa!" Simeon exclaimed, laughing and
appalled. "I wouldn't call you a ball-buster."

"You probably have."

"But that was before I knew you," he admitted.
"Rachel is a ball-buster. You're just a bit prickly."

"Prickly?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe I am horny," she said thoughtfully. "Lordy,
all the male generative organs that are creeping into
this conversation. But you know I'm right We have to
maintain a certain distance to carry this thing off...
Simeon, say something to make me feel better."

"Um, how about...

"Stern daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! ifthat name thou love...
When empty terrors overawe;
From vain temptations dost setjree..."

"Hey!"

288

Amte McCaffrry £# SM. Stilling

"No huh? Wrong mood?"

"You might say that," she answered between
clenched teeth. "Right now, the stern voice of duty is
overrepresented in my thoughts."

"True. Hmm. Different mood Okay, how about

j&t

"Sound sleep by night; study and.ease
Together mixed; sweet recreation;''
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation."

"Sarcasmill becomes yon', Sim. Don'tyouwwnftohelp?"
"Sorry, one more try,

"lam ike lion, and his lair!
I am the fear that frightens me!
I am the desert of despair!
And the night of agony!
Night or day, whate'er befall,
1 must walk that desert land,
Until I dare my fear and call
The lion out to lick my hand."

She was silent for a long time. He could tell by her
breathing that she was not angry, and he waited for her
to think it through. At last she sighed.

"You know me pretty well on short acquaintance, Sim."

"Channa, he won't refuse you. He needs you as much
as you need him right now. I screwed the pooch! I admit
it My only excuse Ñ" she gave him a tired smile "Ñ is
that it's an area of life I'm just not equipped to under-
stand very well. Why should you both be miserable
alone, when you could be much happier together?"

"After last night? And don't forget, I've already
turned him down once, Simeon. He's got one free
refusal coming to him."

"What is this? A competitive sport? There are scores
and free throws and penalties?"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

289

She laughed. "Sometimes. Depends on who you

play with."

"Take up military history, Channa. It's a lot easier on
the psyche."

She sighed again. "Not when you're about to become
military history/ - A

"Oh for Christ'sfeake, Happy, get your butt off the
couch and go knock on his door! You know you want
to. C'mon, be honest."

"I'm going to get changed, first, at least," she said
glumly, striding into her room. "And don't call me
Happy," she called over her shoulder.

Why should I accommodate you on that, Channa, when Tve
noticed that, whenever I call you "Happy," you do what I tell
you. Vm not giving up an advantage tike that.

"Ready?" he called.

"What do you think?"

He opened a sensor inside her room. She now had
on a simple black skinsuit, but he thought it showed
her off to advantage.

"You'll do."

Channa walked glumly to the door. "Here I am,
courting rejection. You'd think I learned about that
back when I was Joat's age."

The door slid aside to reveal Amos on her threshold,
his hand raised to knock. They exchanged looks. After
a moment, they reached out to one another, and
touched. Amos stepped into the room and the door slid
firmly dosed.

They melted into an embrace that marked the first step m a
dmb to the heights of passion.

Simeon echoed the thought off the computer. When
it came back, it had a fruity announcer's voice. He
keyed on Ravel's "Bolero," an insinuating thread of
sound that swelled and grew in intensity and volume
until its passionate, vibrant climax. On the council

290

AnneMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

table, he projected scenes: palm trees crashed in the
wind and waves rolled in to welcoming shores, trains
roared into tunnels and out again, wild beasts roared in
the forests and people worked wet clay into messy
phallic symbols on spinning potters' wheels.

"Perfect," he decided, saving-rhe program to hard
storage. It wouldn't be tactful to show it anytime soon,
but someday they would be a lot older and more mel-
low. Providing, of course, they survived the next
weeks. Shellpeople had a lot of time to fill in. He lis-
tened to the music as it^billowed and soared and
swooned.

Bless you my children, he thought in the direction of
Amos and Channa. And now I will check in again with the
auxiliary bridge. Soon to be the fake/real command cen-
ter for SSS-900-C's encounter with the Kolnari.

eHAWERSIXTEEN

"Hey, Simeon," the Traffic Control watch said.

"Yeahjuke?"

"I think I've got something here."

Simeon shunted much of his attention to the sen-
sors. This was part of the reason no computer could
ever replace a colloidal brain; apart from the inherent
lack of self-consciousness, of course. Computers were
wonderful at collecting and collating data, but they
could never really interpret it the way a human could.

And there's no interface like that between a shettperson and
his extensions, Simeon thought smugly.

"Yeah, that is something," he said aloud. "But what?"

"No powerplant neutrino signatures," Juke Cielpied
said. He was a fresh-faced young man with a thatch of
blond hair. "But the mass is there, that's for Ñ Holy
shithouse.r

Suddenly the sleepy torpor of Communications and
Navigation was a blur of activity. "Missile signatures,
multiple, homing!"

Simeon made an incoherent prayer. This was it.
They might have no more than thirty seconds to live.

"Starting mayday call," he said, 'jammed! Engines
pulsing."

"Oh, boy, I'm getting powerplant signatures now"
Juke said. "They just kicked online and then steadied.
Four. Big mothers. Way overpowered for the masses,
even more than a tug."

"Warship engines," Simeon said grimly.

The missiles were streaking in from all sides. He

292

Aime McCaffny fc? 5M. Stirling

deployed the anti-meteor laser. Seconds later it slagged
and exploded in a spectacular burst of vaporized syn-
thetic and metal.

"Neutral-particle beam," Simeon said. "Damage
report follows." Thank The Bfcwers That Be that it
hadn't hit an inhabited area, at least. "Red alert. All
personnel to emergency station^."

This time there would be no fooling around. It was
for real.

Ooops.

Simeon activated hi&afensors in the lounge and lis-
tened, hoping that things hadn't gotten too for in the
very few moments that had passed since he'd politely
turned them off. Unfortunately, judging by the soft
sounds emerging from Channa's quarters, that was a
vain hope.

She'll never believe I didn't plan this, he thought, and
wavered. It's an hour before they'll be here. His sensors
showed the ships boosting at a very respectable
normal-space acceleration. But if I don't tell her, Tmgoing
to be in the same bad odor, just a different situation. A more
important situation. Okay, here goes everything. He
knocked.

Channa froze and Amos slowed down. "I'm going to
kill him," she said.

Amos chuckled and kissed her; his hips moved and
she gasped. "Why don't you ask what he wants first,"
he advised.

"WHAT IS IT NOW?"

"Uh, the enemy's just come into sensor range, four
heavily armed ships, E.T.A. forty-one minutes. Sorry,
guys, you needed to know!"

Channa clasped Amos to her with arms and legs.
"That's ... enough time," she gasped. "And if you...
stop I'm going to fall you."

The hull of the station toned like a giant bell as the
sprayshot slammed into the subspace antennae.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

293

Automatic alarms made their banshee wail. Dutifully
waiting with his sensors turned down, Simeon might
have mistaken Channa's high shriek, under other cir-
cumstances, for a cry of alarm.

"Brief us," she called %few moments later.

Quite brief, Simeon thought, but did not say. He
began, using a focused beam to cut through the noise
of a very quick shower.

The corridors had been full of rushing people. Now
their floatdisks were speeding down empty hallways,
banking at the corners in emergency-override
maneuvers as the population suited up and huddled in
their shelter-sectors. The silence held no calm, only a
tension so great that Channa expected sparks to pop
from her hair. She gripped the handhold and looked
aside at Amos. His face was set and remote, a carven
image framed by the fluttering black curls of his hair.

"I'm sorry," Simeon said to Channa, whispering
through her implants for the tenth time. "I wish this
hadn't happened."

"Oh, give it a rest, Simeon. I'm hardly going to blame
you because the rest of the universe won't organize
itself for my convenience."

"Sure! Sorry!"

She grinned. "And for future reference, buddy, I
much prefer 'Carmina Burana* to alarm klaxons as
background music."

The enemy warships were in plain sight now.
Simeon magnified, analyzed, and projected the results
on the big screen in the secondary control chamber.
The room was the usual shape, a C with a large virtual-
screen at the flat section and a bank of positions and
consoles. There had been a full crew here for the past
few days, to eliminate the slightly fusty air of an unused
facility. Now the circulators were working overtime to

294

Arme McCaffrcy fcf SM. Stirling

carry off the ketones of tension-sweat, and there were
very convincing coffee-stains and rings by most of the
recUner seats.

"That is the enemy," Amos said somberly.

The ships were very different tjpm the usual stubby
egg shape: elongated darts, with triangular vanes
swelling along most of their lengths, like flight-feathers
on an arrow. Designs scrawled across their sides in the
spike-and-curve script

"Yup, Kolnari naval architecture," Simeon said. He
set the computer on thejafcmes. "Phonetically: Shuk,
Kelyug, Dhriga, Rumal."

" Why the odd design?" Patsy said, leaning forward.
"Not your most efficient layout"

"It is optimized for rapid atmosphere transit,"
Simeon said grimly. "Courier Service ships are much
like that I think the Kolnari have different maneuvers
in mind for their vessels. For example, swooping down
to sack a town planet-side. Note the design's not
uniform. They probably build, or rebuild captured
hulls, as they get the chance. But it's still a class-type.
Roughly equivalent to a Navy frigate, I'd say. Bigger
hull, though; they must carry a humongous great
crew. A hundred, at least." He studied the armament
and whisded. "And, with all those weapons mountings,
they must sleep in shifts."

"I'm glad you've finally gotten a chance to indulge
your hobby," Channa said tighdy.

"I'm not," Simeon said. Odd, he thought That's true.

"Closing," Juke said, licking his lips. "Two of them
are orbiting the station around our notional equator.
The other two are closing at the poles. Closing fast.
HeUT

Exterior screens dampened to cut the energy fiux of
sudden deceleration. Alarms cheeped and burbled as
energetic particles sleeted into the exterior shielding
fields.

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

295

A voice roared through the hull; an induction field,
vibrating the substance of the station itself. The words
were blurred by the coarseness of the medium and by a
thick accent Itsounded like the shoutingofan angry god.

"SCUMVERMIN SUBMIT!" Then a feedback
squeal tore at their eardrums as the broadcaster
adjusted. "SLAVE TO THE SEED OF HIGH-CLAN
KOLNAR ARE YOU, PERSON AND NONPERSON
THING OUR POSSESSION. CEASE EXTERIOR
SCANATONCE!"

"What Ñ" somebody began.

Then the lights faded for a second. Everyone gasped
as pressure fluctuated, and the temperature rose per-
ceptibly. On the heels of the pressure wave came a
rising wave of vibration through the hull. Banks of
lights flashed from amber to red.

"Hit! We have been hit!" Patsy was shouting from
her environmental systems console. "Loss of pressure,
N-7 through 11!"

Simeon's hands itched, metaphorically. He had to
step back and let the infuriatingly slow responses of
softshells handle his station, his body. There was one
thing he could do. He cut all the active exterior sensors
immediately. Except, of course, for the one that had
just been converted to vapor along with a section of
hull.

"Passive scanners only," Juke said. "Th... that was a
high-energy particle beam."

"Chaundra here." The doctor's voice had the slight-
ly flat tone of a vacuum suit pickup. "Rescue squads in
place. The people here were all suited up. No fatalities
so for. There will be radiation problems." From second-
ary gamma sleeting, where the beam had struck
matter.

Channa acknowledged his report. Injuries could
have been much higher. Would have been if the war-
ship had come on them with no notice whatever. A

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AnneMcCaffrq fc? SJlf. Stfrfmg-

THE dry WHO FOUGHT

297

screen activated, showing suited forms moving down
an interior corridor, but it had the depthless bright look
of light in vacuum, no blur at the edges of the shadow.

The huge voice struck again. "OBEY. GENTLE
WARNINGS NONE MORE WILL BE FOREVER.
STAND BYTO BE TAKEN INTO THE FIST OF HIGH-
CLANKOLNAR, SCUMVERMIN."

"Eat shit and die, you fardling maniacs," Channa
muttered. Amos cast her a quick look, then nodded
and gave a thumbs-up gesture.

"Still closing," Juke whispered. The infrared and
other passive receptors were still working. "Closing on
the docking tubes, but inboard of the docking rings."

"Quick," Simeon said to Channa, like thought in her
inner ear. "Get anyone there away from the tubes."

"All personnel in north and south polar docking
tubes, into the core! Move!" Channa barked. Then, to
privately to Simeon: "Why?"

"They're going to force-dock. I've heard of it."

The Dreadful Bride floated dose to the docking tube.
So dose, that of a sudden she seemed small to Belazir,
waiting impatiendy in the off-corridor to the boarding
tube, with his personal guard around him. He had an
exterior feed, one of the multiple tiny screens around
the lower rim of the helmet's interior. It took long train-
ing to assimilate the information without being
distracted. His ship seemed like a tiny fleck of bright-
ness next to the huge bulk of the target.

"Now," he said. But a knife is smaller than a man, too, he
thought with hammering glee.

Serig stepped forward and slapped an armored palm
on the bulkhead beside the combat lock. The assault
party filled the antechamber. Decking shuddered
beneath their feet. From his helmet's exterior view,
Belazir could see the accordion-folds of the boarding
tube extending their armored length. Grapnels and

cutting-beams protruded from the forward edge, like the
teeth of a hungry monster. A feint clung went through the
ship as the tube struck. Then a savage roar of white noise
as the weapons punched an oval hole through hull, con-
duits and inner surface, into the enemy vessel,
fonx-sealing it with agudden crude weld.

Air whistled past them from the higher pressure of
the Bride into the station.

"Go!" shouted Serig. The first team leapt forward,
pushing a floating, armored powergun platform
before them. "Go, go, go!"

Serig followed them. Belazir bit down on his tongue,
suppressing the impulse to take immediate command.
Instead, he froze the joints of his armor and com-
manded the faceplate to show Serig's inputs, seeing
what he would see.

"Oh, smooth, very smooth," Simeon said in some
dismay. Channa made an enquiring sound into the
denched silence of the control room.

"To begin with, they're wearing heavy field armor,"
he replied, calling up interior shots.

The Kolnari were in powered hardsuits. At once more
massive and sleeker than the Central Worlds naval
equivalent, the suits were a soft matt black, and moved
with the jerky quickness of servo-powered systems. In a
dosed environment they looked more elephantine than
they had in Amos' shots from Bethel, more unstoppable.
The deck thundered under their weight, though the
pirates moved with fluid precision and the snapping
quickness of long practice. Teams of three or more
secured corridor junctions; techs moved behind them,
tying down control of one facility after another.

"And look at the way they're moving," Simeon went
on dolefully. "Look." He brought up a schematic of the
station. "Power, atmosphere, communications.
They're coming here, too. They've done this before."

298

AnneMcCaffrry &? SM. Stirling

And those plasma guns they're carrying like rifles are crew-
served weapons tn the Navy, he added to himself

"Yes," Channa said, "that's how it looks to me.
They've done this before. Only where?"Xnd did that sta-
tion die? Do I remember ever hearing of a died station? She
watched in a morbid fascination as the units moved
inward, following the direction of the conduits. "Of
course, they're heading here now.*1

"No resistance," Serig reported.

Either they are wise cowards^r simply wise, Belazir
thought "Secure the control center! Pol?"

A miniature of the scarred face of the Shark's com-
mander came up on one helmet screen.

"My people are meeting no resistance," she said. "All
targets occupied on schedule. We have them in a
nutcracker fist."

"Good, dan-kin Captain," he said. He trusted Pol more
than most. She had no ambition to climb beyond her
present position. Any equal of his own rank and age was a
dangerous rival Ñ rival by definition, and dangerous if
they had survived to climb so high. "Now we will crush
their stones. Serig! Watch and wait when you've secured
their command center. ITljoinyou there."

"I hear and obey, lord," Serig said, slamming
through another door with his assault team.

Serig*s pickups showed a roomful of suited figures.
Plain vacuum suits, some small enough to hold
children, and the chamber looked to be an emergency
shelter, reinforced and near the core of the station. The
people moved away from the armored violence of the
Kolnari like grass rippling under wind. To Serig, their
cringing was a profoundly satisfying sight

"Faugh!" he said in sharp disgust "There are non-
humans here! Shall I open fire, lord?"

"No, Serig," Belazir said patiently. Of course, non-
human sentients were worse than scumvermin.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

299

They bore none of the Divine Seed that made Kol-
nar. "We're going to destroy this place and
everything in it, Serig. Or had you forgotten? In the
meantime, we need it functional."

"I abase myself before you, Great Lord," Serig said
formally Ñ another one-^ord expression in then-
tongue. "Proceeding with plan."

"Ooof," Channa said.

They were all lying with their faces in the fortunately
soft decking with their hands tied behind their backs.
The Kolnari had not moved or spoken since they
ordered the others down on the floor, except when one
of the stationers so much as twitched Ñ in which case
they prodded them with the muzzle of a plasma rifle,
hard, as one had just done to Channa. None of them
spoke Standard, she thought, except perhaps the
leader with the gold slashes on his arm. He had the
same thick accent as the amplified voice which had
hailed the station.

The iron tramp of powered-armor boots sounded in
the corridor outside. Another squad of Kolnari entered.
AU she could see was feet and a glimpse of something
heavy carried in by the last two. A voice spoke in the
invader's incongruously musical, lilting tongue, and the
feet with the load put something over the main com-
munications console. There was a chung and then a
minute ofhigh-pitched buzzing, followed by silence.

More clanks and clicking sounds. They're getting out of
their armor, she thought, watching a pair of bare feet
step to the deck.

"You may kneel," a voice said in Standard, much less
accented than the first Either an interpreter, or the big
boss; from the authority in the tones, the latter. "Let
those who once led here, identify themselves."

"Obeyl" screamed the other voice, the first one, and a
foot sank into her side.

300

Arme McCaffhy &? 5M. Staling

THECriY WHO FOUGHT

901

Channa grunted and came to her knees, sinking
back on her heels. Then she raised her eyes and
gasped.

The pirate chieftain was the most beautiful human
being she had ever seen. 190 centimeters, but so perfect-
ly proportioned that he looked shorter. His skin was black
Ñ not the dark-brown usually miscalled as such, but an
actual gunmetal black; tightly stretched over long, swell-
ing muscles, and he stood and moved as lightly as a
racehorse. Much of this was visible, because what the
pirates wore under their armor turned out to be a pair of
tight briefs the same color as their skins, and an equip-
ment belt. The chieftain's race had the same inhuman
exotic perfection as his body: high cheekbones, slightly
aquiline nose, full lips, slanted yellow eyes, and the long
mane of white-blond hair was caught at the back with a
clip of silver and iridescent feathers.

Channa blinked, shook her head, and forced her-
self to look at the others. Apart from a pair still in
power armor, the rest looked eerily similar. Two of
those were women, with the same features and long
lean bodies. Even their breasts looked as if they were
carved out of ebony . . . and the expressions dif-
fered, of course. The pirate beside the chief was
paring his nails with a small sharp knife. He looked
at her and smiled. Channa glanced down again.

Ok, great, Simeon thought, noting the reaction from
the others as well. We've been boarded by the Ultimately
Intimidating Elves from, Hell. Owl That hurt. Something
tugged at him, catling.

Behind Channa, one of the armored troopers
touched his belt. The unoccupied suits turned and
marched like a line of lockstep golems to stand them-
selves along the walls.

Ow! Pain-signals flooded in from the computer
extensions of Simeon's mind. Emergency overrides.
He turned his attention inwards.

***

Channa subvocalized. There was no reply.

"Simeon!"

"I am the Lord Captain Belazir t'Marid Kolaren,"
the pirate chiefsaid soMy. "Master here now, by right of
conquest. I hold your lives in my fist, to spare or crush
as I will. Who led here before we came?"

I

H CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
¥ 1*

helpbosshelpbossowowow OW!

Simeon had never told anyone about the AI system.
Well, nobody but Tell Ration. He was interfaced with
the computers directly, of course; he could "remem-
ber" anything in the banks and use their capacities the
way he could those of his own human brain. The AI
program was something else again. It was as sophisti-
cated as anything this side of Central. He and Tell had
spent many a happy hour tweaking it further. Simeon
needed the best. There were limits to how many tasks
even a shellperson could do simultaneously, and many
were far too routine for continual supervision. An ordi-
nary human had the hindbrain for running heart,
lungs, and other physical basics, a consciousness for
thought, and a subconscious for monitoring and men-
tal housecleaning. Simeon had the AI.

help! boss!

Of course, it was impossible to actually visualize what
was going on in the AI system, any more than you
could visualize every neuron firing in your brain.
Simeon had chosen to make it something of a
playground, with something he had always wanted.

"Here, boy!" Simeon called.

He was standingÑhe had a softshell body in the vir-
tual world of the AI Ñ on a grassy plain, cut up into
pathways by tall hedges with gaps. The sensations were
full-tactile; only smell and taste were missing. This part
of the landscape was memory-scan and basic access-
control programming, all analogued to the physical.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

303

Both sense and response, automatically translated into
algorithms by a subprogram.

"Here boy!" He whistled sharply. "I'm here, boy!"

A dog bounded into view around a corner. It was the
dog of his dreams, big and shaggy-red, with floppy ears
;ind a cold wet nose* It was also the SSS-900-C's
primary artificial intelligence program.

Now it was surrounded by a swarm of wasps, huge
malevolent things with wingspans a meter across.
Their beaks were hollow, and out of them wormed
long pink tongues, lashing and rasping with serrated
teeth set along their sides. A dozen bleeding wounds
marked the dog's sides. One of the wasps clung to its
head, with the tongue pulsing out and into the animal's
ear.

boss! help!

The dog's barking voice was weakening. Simeon
stepped forward, and the ground shook with his anger.
Beneath it was fear. The pirates had clamped some-
thing to the communications console and now he knew
what it was. A specialized battle computer, stocked with
worm and subversion programs. If it took over his
hardware, he was doomed.

He turned the Jets cap backward on his head and
gestured. A glowing green enchanted bat appeared in
one hand, a hand that was suddenly gauntleted with
steel, part of the armor that covered him. With the
other steel glove he grasped the wasp on the dog's
head and crushed it, pulling. The long tongue flailed
as he pulled it out of the brain, jerking and cutting
bone with a tooth-grating sound.

On my own, then, Channa thought. "I am Station
Chief Channa Hap," she said. "This is my colleague,
Simeon-Amos."

The Kolnari commander remained motionless, like
a statue in oiled ebony. His companion reached down

304

Anne McCaffrey fe? 5M. Stirling

and jerked her to her feet by the front of her coverall.
Fingers like steel rods slammed into shoulder, ribcage,
hip. Pain flowered through her in a wave that snapped
her teeth shut with a grinding clack and left her limply
boneless when he released her to sarawl facedown on
the decking.

For minutes she was too limp,to do more than
sprawl. Amos had surged halfway to his feet The Kol-
nari who had struck Channa turned and gave him a
casual buffet across the side of the head: the sound was
like a wet board hitting conqyete. Amos flew backwards
two meters and ploughed into the deck at an awkward
angle. One of the others hooked him back to Channa's
side with a foot. He lay with glazed eyes, breathing in a
harsh rasp that sent bubbles of blood oozing from nose
and mouth. She forced down an overwhelming
impulse to rush to him, but their lives depended on her
wits.

"Scumvermin address the Divine Seed of Kolnar as
'Great Lord,' " the second-in-command said. He put a
foot on Channa's neck and ground her face into the
coarse fabric that covered the floor. "When the Lord
Captain Belazir addresses them, they respond with
'Master and God.'"

Eat shit and die, Master and God, Channa thought.

"Master and God," she managed to choke out, the
words muffled by the synthetic fabric.

Belazir nodded benignly, a slight smile on his carven
lips. "Let her rise to her knees once more. Ignorance
pardons nothing but explains much. Do you under-
stand?" he said to Channa.

"I understand perfectly, Master and God," she said
to the Kolnari leader. "You're the Good Pirate and he's
the Bad Pirate, eh?"

Belazir frowned a moment, then threw back his
head and laughed in delight as he caught the
reference.

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

305

"No no," he said, restraining his companion with a
slight gesture. The feral aggression in the other man's
face was unchecked, but he sank back obediently. "You
do not understand my good Serig's role at all." He
turned to the other prone figures. "Up on your knees,
scum vermin. Announce yfcur functions."

The lights flickered? Belazir looked up sharply. One
of the Kolnari spoke from beside the mechanism
damped to the communications terminal.

Channa felt her stomach damp with a fear older and
more visceral than the pirates. Something was interfer-
ing with basic station functions.

The dog lay panting, healing visibly but more slowly
than it should. The wasps lay crushed or buzzing
malevolently at a distance. Simeon's great bronze
shield prevented their approach. On its surface were
concentric rings of figures. Great heros: Armstrong, da
Luis, Helva. At last the dog crawled over and licked
Simeon's ankles, whimpering.

good better make'emgoaway(!) boss

Simeon checked the dog, who had sustained no per-
manent damage, although there was some memory loss.

"Get up," he said. "Run."

runl

"Change it as you go," Simeon said. "Game.** He
added specifications.

game!

The hedges melted and shifted as the dog ran, long
ears flopping in the mild afternoon sun. A new sound
came from around a long corridor in the memory-
maze. A long raw raaaaaaaaaaaaaaa sound, likeÑwhat
was that ancient holo? Like a chain saw! Then the beast
that made the noise surged around the corner.

Wow, Simeon thought. Wormprogram, indeed.

The end of the creature stretched off into the dis-
tance, a grayish-pink tentacle covered in rough-edged

306

Aime McCaffrey fe? SM. Stirling

scales. It was two meters thick, an endless segmented
arm of tough fibrous muscle, dripping acid mucous.
Where it passed, the bare ground smoked. Each drop
of slime turned the dust into a pulsing globule the size
of a fist, like a wet cyst. When jjiese popped, a long-
tongued wasp crawled out, flexed its wings, and took to
the air to join the buzzing cloud around the worm. The
head of the thing reared up suddenly, sprang open like
a fleshy blossom. Twenty looping pseudopods whirled
around it, each one tipped with a lidless eye. At their
meeting was a series of qpcular mouths, one within the
other, each ringed with pyramid-shaped teeth of urine-
colored diamond. The teeth spun and clenched and
gritted over each others' adamantine surfaces in a con-
tinuous blurred roar of hostile sound.

"By their programs shall ye know them," Simeon
intoned, suddenly wishing that he had not made the
construct he inhabited in this virtual reality quite so
vividly lifelike. He could definitely do without the dry
mouth, pounding heart, and sinking stomach right
now, for example. He could change the setting, but
that would deprive him of one more slender
advantage; his familiarity with it. So long as the matrix
remained, the intruder had to fight on his terms.

"These people are not going to garner many
SUM's," he said resolutely, and stepped forward, rais-
ing his shield. Central awarded Social Utility Marks to a
number of unlikely people, but this would really be
stretching the bounds of possible recipients.

"Come on, you bastard!" he shouted aggressively.
"Nobody hurts my dog!"

The worm program struck. Simeon groaned,
stamped his feet into the ground, and braced his
shoulder against the shield. Data/fangs gnawed at it,
recoiling with a sound like frying bacon amid choking
clouds of green vapor. His bat flailed, knocking aside
eye-tentacles and tongue-wasps. For a long subjective

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

307

time there was only batter and strike, leap and wiggle
and dodge. The oozing serrated mouth loomed in con-
stant menace. It wants to swallow my pattern whole and
assimilate it in one gulp.1 Tongue-worms flicked alarm-
ingly around his head. They would subvert the Master
Control Program with Ikeir probes. He continued to flail
the wasps out of the air, stamped them underfoot,
swung the bat, and an eye exploded in a shower of
black syrup like a giant overripe fig. Finally, the worm
recoiled for a moment, and Simeon whirled aside and
fled, dodging and jinking through the maze.

Got to keep it off-balance, confused, he thought, listening
to its triumphant screeching hard on his heels. Every
muscle in his "body" already felt bruised. But it was more
satisfying that way, too. Knowing you'd disorganized a
section of code wasn't nearly as much fun as seeing blood
Ñor ichor, in this caseÑfly and feeling flesh pulp under
a blow. The howl sounded again, closer.

"Talk about your slash-and-burn data collection," he
gasped in time with the pounding of his stride. What
sort of maniacs would let something like this loose
inside an information system? It had to be destroying
as much as it gathered.

Got to make it think it's won, eventually. Isolate it in the
outer subsystems of the computers, keeping the
ultimate control-keys behind barriers the worm
thought were the edge of the entire system. Otherwise,
it would infest the whole system, like maggots in rotting
meat. Including his own mind, unless he committed
suicide by severing all connections between his organic
brain and the data system.

That was an unfortunate image. He flashed back to
the refugee ship and the dead Bethelites, their bodies
moving with burrowing life.

/ will pull the plug first, he thought grimly. Theoreti-
cally, it was impossible to self-destruct the station. In
practice, he probably could. Win or die.

308

Anne McCaffrey 6f SM. Stating

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar the worm screeched.

"As Channa would say, eat shit and die." Simeon
panted the words out as he turned a corner and took a
stance again. Thorns and leaves Hew into the air as the
data-worm tried to smash directly through to him.
Then there was a huge splat sound and a watting cry of
pain as it ploughed into the stone core of the hedge.
That persuaded it to come around the corner. It
seemed larger; frothy pink blood streamed around the
working, palping mouths. Some of the teeth had shat-
tered on stone, but they^generated as he watched.
The worm's approach made the ground shake. Behind
him, he could hear the wuffle and growl of the AI, set-
ting new barriers and deceptions.

"Step right up, lay right down!" Simeon bellowed.
Don't worry about the others. This is going to take attyour
attention for a while.

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

This time the gravity bounced them about as the
lights flickered. Belazir turned to the technicians with a
well-controlled snarl of impatience.

"What now?"

"Great Lord, there is unexpected resistance. We
thought the worm was successfully penetrating the
Master Control programs, but they wiggled free. We
are making progress, but the AI is exceptionally agile
Ñ the parallelÑ"

Belazir cut them off with a gesture. "I am interested
in results, not jargon-laden excuses. Grasp the core in
your fist, and quickly."

He turned back to his prisoners. What naked faces they
have, he thought. In a new conquest, it was often so.
Those who survived long learned better, but it could be
entertaining.

Reports of the station's assets and supplies were
flooding in.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

309

getter than I expected, he thought exultantly. Far
fatter. Unimaginably rich! This facility could build dread-
noughts, given a little time and the plans which were
available in the Clan's computers.

The High Clan's greatest weakness was the lack of
;arge purpose-buttt \rarships. They could turn out
frigates, more or less, but for larger craft they could only
modify captures. Nocobbled-togethermerchanter could
rival the performance of real battlecraft. A warship was
more than a ship with weapons and defense-systems: it
was a single organism, almost living in itself. Must we aban-
don the shipyard"} The frustration was as agonizing as the
satisfaction of taking the station was euphoric, with its
destruction as a second orgasmic "hit." On the other
hand, possession of such equipment would cut genera-
tions from the great plan, the spreading of the Divine
Seed of Kolnar and the power of the Clan.

Even worse was the humiliation the Clan had suffered
for too long. The human galaxy teemed with such prizes,
yet the Clan fleet must skulk about the outworlds, gnaw-
ing discarded scraps: border worlds, miserable
settlements of poverty-stricken exile, like Bethel. Skulk
like jackals, even as they had been driven from their lands
and possessions on their ancient homeworld. Gnawing
poor bones, while feasts like this lay spread before them.
Intolerable! Itwasnottobeborne!

His pleasure dissolved. "You have maintained physical
separation?" he asked, his irritation at this check palpable.

The technician ducked his head. "Of course, Great
Lord. No data enters our machines from this system
save by hedron. All such hedrons are first analyzed to
the last byte of information. Our duplicate backups are
kept powered down and physically severed while any
captured data is running."

Belazir nodded. "Continue," he said, satisfied that
elementary precautions were being taken. You witt suffer,
you will suffer, ahhhh, how you will suffer, he thought,

310

Amu McCaffny & SM. Stating

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

311

barring mental teeth at the universe that stood between
the Clan and its apotheosis. All of them would writhe in
the fist, one day. "You have a preliminary report?"

"Affirmative, Great Lord," the technician said,

Why can technicians never use ajDmple word where their
accursed slang can be stretched toftf? Belazir wondered as
he heard the technician out 5;

"We captured the message logs in the first penetra-
tion, before the AI reacted. No nonroutine messages to
Central, except the arrival and spontaneous destruc-
tion of a large, mysterioutfship. Little evidence was left.
Central said they would search their files."

With a white-toothed grin, Belazir condescended to
give a nod in reply. "Excellent! Order: launch the mes-
sage torpedo. Summon the transports, all that can be
spared; also personnel for the disassembly."

He looked around at his fighters, smiling. "Well done.
We will settle in, drinking the prey dry and eating it to the
bone at our leisure. Staff, draw up a preliminary plan to
strip as much as possible as quickly as possible and load
efficiently when the transport arrives."

Smaller, high-value loot would go to the victorious
flotilla, of course. He would have to arrange priorities:
priorities that would give the Bride the first and best pick,
and t'Vsrsk'sAge of Darkness the last and worst, of course.

Part of his attention had been on Serig's interroga-
tion of the prisoners. He brought his head up, smiling
at the executive officer's wit

"He says," he translated for the benefit of the scum-
vermin Serig had been taunting, "that he will explore
your internal environment, Environment Systems
Officer Coburn."

No\ Channa thought hard at her. Don't resist, Patsy!

The older woman's broad fair fece was flushed, red
spots on her cheeks showing her rage. The pirate reached
a hand down her shirt and squeezed a breast casually.

patsy spat in his face.

Channa started to rise. Belazir jabbed a precisely cal-
culated toe into her bruised stomach. She collapsed to
the deck again. The pirate grabbed her ear in strong,
almost prehensile toes and forced her head around.

"Watch, scumverpiin," he said pleasantly. "And learn
not to defy the High Clan."

Behind her there was a flurry as Amos tried to rise
again. A Kolnari pounded her heel into the small of his
back over the kidneys and he collapsed with a stifled
shriek, thrashing. Nobody else moved.

Simeon, she thought desperately. Simeon!

Serig touched his face where the spittle ran and
spoke in his own language. The other Kolnari laughed
or grinned, watching with bright-eyed interest. Patsy
took advantage of his inattention, lashing out in a kick
at his groin. A fist snapped down and met the rising
foot with a sound like a mallet hitting rock. Patsy gave a
sharp gasp of pain. With bound hands, she was thrown
off-balance and staggered back against the coffee table.
The Kolnari laughed as she almost fell, stripping away
his harness and tossing it aside. The briefs came away
with it, memory-plastic rolling up into the belt. The
stationer's clothes followed, torn away as if they were
paper while one hand held her immobilized, clamped
to her jaw. He stepped back and stood like a licentious
Greek statue, gestured.

"Down," he said in Standard. "Spread."

Yes, Belazir thought, looking down at Channa. In the
end, this one is mine. But not at once. With subtlety.

As a child, Belazir t'Marid had been the despair of his
mothers and nurses. For all their whippings and shock-
rod treatments, for all the day-cycles spent locked in
the hotbox, they could never break him of the nasty
habit of toying with his "food."

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

313

CHAPTER EK&JTEEN

Simeon dropped to the ground, panting. Atop the
distant mountain, another wing of the castle
crumbled and fell int^ the gulfs below with an
earthquake rumble of rock. The worm screamed tri-
umph and wound itself further around the central
tower as flames billowed into the darkening sky. A
tiny figure stood on the battlements above the
monster, waving a bat that glowed iridescent green.
Queasy, Simeon switched viewpoints, just in time to
see the open maw engulf his pseudo-construct
duplicate. The gnashing teeth ripped it into shreds.
The illusion faded and his last sight from it was a
rushing universe of light and onoffonoffonoffonoff-
onoff as the code was disassembled and "digested"
by the intruder.

Phew, he thought, shakily turning his Jets cap right-
side around again. That ought to hold km. For a while, at
least. The worm would be here, always probing and
testing, as long as the Kolnari battle-computer stayed
clamped to the SSS-900-C's system. Even if he
destroyed the program and purged his system, that
would merely ring every alarm the enemy had. They'd
only launch another worm immediately, with a dif-
ferent configuration. Despite its self-modifying
abilities, he knew this one now!

Gently, stepping backward, brushing his footprints
out of the sand, he faded from the blasted landscape of
cinders, where pustules in the soil spewed line after
line of questing wasps.

"The Knight came home from the quest;
Muddied and sore he came.
Battered of shield and crest,
Bannerless, bruised and lameÑ"

Charma was weeping. "Jliat was his first thought, as his
"other" awareness flared back. Everything was a little
murky, but he could see dearly enough down into the
lounge. She was sitting on the sofa next to Amos, head
cradled against his shoulder, sobbing with slow misery.
Both of them looked battered, as if they'd been thrown
from a moving vehicle. Amos winced every time he moved.

"Channa!" Simeon said when a few microseconds' of
a scan told him the room was safe. A little further
adjustment put an innocuous scene on the security sys-
tem the Kolnari and their computers were monitoring.
"Channa, are you all right?"

"Where were you!" Channa shouted, springing erect.
"Where were you, Simeon?"

"I wasÑ"

Simeon noticed what was playing over the general
channel, again and again, locked in from the command
circuits. Nearing the end of one loop, Channa was
kneeling by Patsy's side, trying to staunch the hemor-
rhage with the scraps of her clothing.

"Please, Master and God, may I summon the
doctor?"

"Of course," the pirate chieftain said. "We are a
reasonable people." Abroad smile. "As you see, you
were wrong. / am the 'bad pirate.' Serig is the worse
pirate."

Simeon blinked back to the present. He felt his auto-
matic feeds cut in, damping down hormonal flows and
adrenal glands, filtering his blood. Even so, he came as
dose to feeling faint as he ever had.

"I ... oh, God, God" he whispered. "Shit." There
were no words adequate in any lexicon.

S14

Amu McCaffny 0? 5M. Stir&ng

"Where were you, Simeon?"

"Fighting," he said. "Channa, they put a worm pro-
gram into die station system. I had to fight it, it wasÑis
Ñ a monster. If I hadn't, it would have burrowed right
into my brain and eaten me. I'd ako be under their con-
trol and telling them everything they wanted to know. I
couldn't even self-destruct!"

i *

" I see," Channa said, "Not that there was anything you
could have done for us. Excuse me." She walked quickly
into her quarters: he could hear water splashing.

Amos stood, left hangVclenched around right fist.
"Though they be thieves from their birth, for this, they
shall pay," he said softly, almost to himself. "For Patsy,
for Keriss, for my sister and my father's house and for
all they have done, by the living soul of God, they shall
pay in full, every jot and tittle."

Channa came back, her face set harder than Simeon
had ever seen it. She waved Amos back and turned to
the pillar.

"What damage did you sustain?" she asked in a
professional tone.

"Nothing crucial Ñ yet," Simeon said. "I've got to
keep a fair share of my attention and the system's
capacity involved in just watching and waiting. That
worm program mutates like a retrovirus: the sort that
never gives up. I could dean it out Ñ if I dared. Apart
from that, I've lost about a third of the memory and
computational capacity. That's what could be termed
'occupied territory* at the moment. With luck, their
computer will keep thinking that's all there is. It's
powerful but specialized. They haven't hooked up
their ship computers to the station, yet Probably afraid
of us hacking in to them.

"But," he went on, "I've got to be really careful Any
action I take in what they think is safe territory has to be
elaborately screened. I can jimmy the records. How-
ever, even I can't make the impossible convincing."

THE CITY vmo FOUGHT

S15

She narrowed her eyes. "Could you take back those
functions in a hurry?"

"Somewhere from seconds to minutes. They'd know
pretty quick, and that battle-computer they've got
jacked in could ... hmm. Come to think of it, I could
probably take that over* too. But they'd know."

"No problem.. .later. Can we conference?"

"Yeah, I've got all of their people under continuous
surveillance."

"We'd better get moving as soon as we can," she said.

Simeon made an affirmative sound. "Our people are
going to be pretty shook up," he said. I sure am. "We've
got to get things in hand, before they start lashing out
It'll take some time though, for a cycle when they're all
available."

"Good. Let's get, hmmm, Chaundra, the section
leaders, and Ñ" Amos began.

"Everyone's gone," Seld Chaundra said in a low and
careful voice. "You sure we oughta do this, Joat?
Joseph saidÑ**

"Joe can wait a minute, 'n so can you, carrot-face,"
she whispered. "Now keep that thing running, hey?"

He nodded and bent again over the two modules
and the jack clipped to the main conduit above them.
This way was very narrowÑan adult would have to be
a dwarf to get through Ñ but it came in conveniendy
over the sickbay entrance.

"Look," he went on, without glancing up. He was
still breathing hard from the effort of crawling up the
axial ventway. "Look, maybe Ms. Coburn doesn't need
someone else talking to her right now? It's been less
than a day, and Ñ"

"Yeah, I saw the broadcast, too," she said. She had.
Seld had feinted. His meets weren't doing him as much
good as they should. "You stay here."

She crawled forward, pushing the local sensor-override

316

Amu McCaffrey &? SM. Stirling

unit ahead of her. To the naked eye, the cover of the duct
was a panel just like all the others. The only real difference
was that it was selectively permeable and much thinner. It
recessed obediently and Joat looked down into a darkened
room. One float bed, the usual Jurnhure, and a figure
under the sheet She curled herself into a bafl and somer-
saulted slowly through the opening, holding on with her
fingertips and then dropping the final meter to the floor.

"You awake?" she said, moving to the bedside. "It's
Joat"

Coburn's eyes were Èpen. She lay motionless, but
they tracked through the darkness. Joat shone a small
light under her own chin. She had procured for herself
a very expensive coverall, made of adjustable light-
fibers. Simeon had gotten it for her because it was
fashionable, but with a little creativity you could rig it to
mimic the ambient background color, which was right
now a mottled charcoal gray. Her face floated above it
in the lightstick's feeble low-setting glow.

"Go 'way, Joat," the woman said in a dull voice. Her
face looked old, under the sealant bandages. "I don't
need any more sympathy. Leave me alone."

"Great, 'cause sympathy's not what I'm gonna give
you," Joat said. She brought her face closer to Patsy's,
and her own eyes held the same flat deadness. "Let me
tell you something about me." She explained, in a flat,
matter-of-fact tone all about her father, her uncle, the
captain.

"So I know, Ms. Coburn," she went on. "Forget what
anyone else's said. They don't know jack shit But Joat, she
knows exactty how you feel. And like I said, you don't need
sympathy right now. I know what you do need."

Slowly, Patsy raised herself on her elbow. "An* what
would that be?"

Silently, Joat reached around and opened her haver-
sack. Her gloved hand came out with Patsy Sue
Coburn's gunbelt and arc pistol.

THE dry WHO FOUGHT

317

"Payback," Joat whispered steadily. "And here's how
it's gonna beÑ"

The medical-storage room had its own surveillance
subloop. That made i^a good place for the clandestine
.-neeting. It was alsq chuly, bare, and crowded. The walls
were gray metal bins outlined with fluorescent paint

Appropriate, given the state of our morale, Channa
thought

"I have two hundred fifty-seven people down with
the virus," Chaundra said. "The symptoms are spec-
tacular but not life-threatening, as long as they stay
hooked to the machinery. I have also treated sixty-four
patients for traumas and wounds of various sorts. No
fatalities, so far. One or two are in critical condition, but
they should recover. This total includes several of my
medical aids who have been assaulted by Kolnari com-
ing to check up on our 'sick.' They seem to find the
sight disgusting and ... exciting at one and the same
time. Several of Outpatients have been assaulted."

So much for scaring them off with the virus, Channa
thought "Patsy?" she asked aloud. She's my friend. Patsy
hadn't wanted to talk to her or anyone else, which was
understandable. Bid I want to know about her.

"She ... there were no broken bones, apart from
the foot. I internally splinted that Ñ" gluing the
bones together in a synthetic sheath stronger than
the original material, to give them a matrix to heal
"Ñ replaced the lost blood, and plas-sutured all the
softtissue injuries. Ms. Coburn is mobile although in
some .. . physical. .. discomfort. With the usual
growth stimulators, full recovery should take no
more than a week."

He licked his lips nervously." I cannot answer for her
mental state. I fear catatoma. I have administered the
usual psychotropics, but the mind is more than the
brain and its chemistry."

318

ArmeMcCaffrty &? SM. Starting

Channa nodded jerkily. "Anything else?"

"Yes. I now have ... abundant tissue samples from
the Kolnari. There are things we should discuss
privately."

Amos looked at the faces in thejscreen. "Continue as
planned," he said. "The enemy are pushing you to
work. Be as stupid as you dare. Make mistakes as often
as you dare. Above alt, keep as much material half-
disassembled as you can."

"When are we going to fight them?" somebody burst
out. "You and Simeon, talked a good fight, about
Cochise and the Viet Gong Ñ" Gong, Simeon corrected
silendy "Ñ so far all we're doing is rolling over!"

"There is the virus," Simeon said. "That's working,
they're catching it. I've begun psychological opera-
tions. Most important, I've deciphered their
language." That brought a rusde. "It's not much like
the ones in the survey files Ñ both are pidgin Sinhala-
Tamil, but... anyway, I've got it. They've ordered sixty
units here."

"Oh, great!" the man barked. "More of them!"

"Shut up," Channa remarked. "That means they're
not just going to strip the station of everything they can
carry in their warships and then blow it up. You can't
kill a cow and milk it. It'll be at least a week before the
transports arrive. There ought to be about sixty of
them. You know how long it takes us to load sixty
freighters with homogenous ore when we're trying to
work fast. Imagine what it will take to remove and load
fixed equipment, with everyone dragging their feet.
And the more of them that are here, the more will be
caught when the Fleet arrives."

"And," Amos said, with a feral smile, "that means we
can be more direct in the interim. Do not worry, my
friends. They, too, will suffer, know fear and pain."

That brought a chorus of satisfaction.

We think revenge is primitive, Simeon thought, until we

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

319

need it to satisfy indignity and humiliation. He was feeling
considerable desire in that direction himself

Amos lifted a hand. "Wait We want to lure as many of
them into the station as possibleÑas Insurance, and so we
can wear them down. JBut we cannot risk key people who
know a good dea^l about our plans and our station
prisoners being dragged in for interrogation because they
thought they could be clever. No action is to be taken save
on my express orders. The personnel to effect those
orders will be fitted with a suicide tooth and have psych
profiles which assure its use. Wait until you receive orders.
We have a fine general Ñ" he nodded in Simeon's direc-
tion"Ñand wemust follow his words."

That brought silence.

"We'll try levering them to cut back on the
atrocities," Channa said. "Say it's reducing working
efficiency Ñ that's true enough. Stay tight, endure!
We'll see them all fried yet! Out."

One by one the faces vanished from the screen,
except for Chaundra's.

"The bad news, Doctor," she said.

This meeting was a fleeting thing, time stolen as they
were all supposedly on their way somewhere else.
They could fool the sensors for a while, but nobody
could explain being in two positions at once, one of
them under the real-time eyes of the enemy. Only the
fact that there were fifteen-thousand odd of the
stationers and less than a tenth that number of Kolnari
made it possible at all. That and the invaders' imperfect
control of the surveillance computers.

Channa studied Chaundra's grim face. "What is it?"
she asked him.

He scrubbed his face with both hands and shrugged,
exhaustion in his voice. "It's not working."

"What is not working?" Amos asked impatiently.

"The virus," Chaundra said. "They are infected Ñ
somewhatÑbut it hardly bothers them at all."

320

Anne McCaffny & SM. Stating

"Shit!" Channa swore. She had hoped die illness would
make the Kolnari shun civilians of their own volition.
"Doesn'tit have any effect?"

"Mild headache, some nausea, onex>r two cases of diar-
rhea for a day or so. All in all, much l|ss than our people
have experienced even with the immunization. The
afflicted individuals act embarrassed^jiot frightened, and
their companions laugh at them." Chaundra shrugged in
despair. "I move that we discontinue this plan. Our people
are getting raped, beaten, humiliated and catching the flu
while the Kolnari just have^fun. I tested their tissue
samples Ñ the Kolnari immune system is barely human.
If some of the rape victims were not pregnant, I would
doubt that the Kolnari are human. No, I correct that Of
human origin. Their actions certainly are not," he added
bitterly.

"Pregnant?" Channa asked, bewildered.

"I terminated," he said, "ectopic pregnancies, in the
fallopian tubes. This despite slow-release implant
contraceptives." Those made the body's own immune
system treat sperm as foreign matter until
counteracted.

"Channa, the pirates seem to have metallic-salt and
other contaminant levels that should make every one
of them stone sterile. Instead, their sperm are a whole
order of magnitude more motile than the norm. The
rest of their systems are built the same way. Their
antibody response is... their bodies use the poisons to
kill bacterial or viral invaders. Their DNA is locked into
position with redundancy and self-repair mechanisms
like nothing I have ever seen, resistant both to radia-
tion and to viral contamination."

"I refuse to believe these animals are supermen,"
Amos said.

"Oh, they're not that," Chaundra said. "From their
DNA, I'd say they have shorter lifespans than ours. I
imagine the degeneration past early middle-age is ...

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

321

spectacular and swift, as the whole system abruptly
foils. Several other disadvantages; for example, they
could not live without dioxin and arsenic compounds
in their food. An equivalent of scurvy would strike
them."

He fell silent'	*

"There's something else you're hiding, Doctor,"
Channa said quietly. Amos sat more erect, glancing
narrowly from the woman to the screen, "Tell us!"

Bingo, Simeon thought, narrowing in on
Chaundra's pupil dilation and breathing.

"There is a possibility," Chaundra said, looking aside
from the pickup. "Another virus." A long pause. "The
one that killed Mary. It is of unparalleled virulence.
Possibly the worst natural... unnatural disease ever to
be discovered."

Amos' head jutted forward. "Why did you not men-
tion this before?" he asked harshly.

"Because it killed my wife!" Chaundra shouted sud-
denly; the more startling coming from so mild a man.
"Because it is killing my son!" More softly, more ration-
ally: "Because I swore that the filthy disease should
never kill another human being. I no longer classify
the Kolnari under that heading."

"Still," Channa said, "the virus is a good plan. The
enemy don't have much medical capability at all And
Chaundra has lucidly explained why they don't need
it For our purposes they are medically ignorant Little
expertise beyond treating wounds and broken bones,
really. I get the impression they just sort of.. .junk
anyone who's sicker than that"

Chaundra looked thoughtful, professional com-
petence taking over despite himself. "I do not have the
live virus, you understand. But I have the information
on a rninihedron. The protein is nothing, the replicator
can produce it immediately. But modifications... yes.
What sort of disease did you have in mind?"

322

Ame McCaffrey W SM. StrrKng

"Something scary," she said.

"Something fetal," Amos added.

"If possible," she agreed. "But at the least, spec-
tacularly incapacitating, disgusting, horrifying.
Something with mental deterioration? We want them
terrified, and what's more terrifying than madness?"

"Whoa now, I dunno," Simeon .said. "Do you really
want a stationload of crazy Kolnari? Crazier than they
already are, I mean."

They looked thoughtful and slightly sick.

"No, no, wait a moment," Chaundra said, and
paused. "As Channa suggested, we could target only
those who've had the virus. They catch it. It's just not
capable of getting much beyond the first few cells.
Antibody response is very quick. That's a manageable
part of the Kolnari force, enough to hurt and rattle
them without driving them into a killing frenzy. It
would be cumulative, spread among themselves. Close
contact is needed, and I could increase that Immunize
our people stealthily, under the guise of normal treat-
ment. It can be done. I'm sure of it."

"Get on it, then," Channa said. When the doctor's
image had faded: "That takes care of that!"

Simeon's image nodded. It was less mobile than
usual, with so much capacity tied up. "This is a war of
morale. Guerilla war always is. We have to demoralize
them, and much more important, maintain our own
morale."

Or our people will crack and someone will go to the Kolnan,
went unspoken among them.

"Speaking of which," Amos said, rising.
"Must you?" Channa said quietly.
"Yes, I must," he replied, walking over to her and
lifting a hand to his lips. The gesture seemed far more
natural than it had at first, less.staged.

"This isn't going to work for long," Channa said to
the air, after he had left.

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

323

"It doesn't have to," Simeon replied. "Only long

enough."

"Get ready, Seld," Joat breathed.

"I'm ready" he whispered back. He was pale and
5weating heavily. --"A

Her hand rested dh the diaphragm that separated the
vent from the corridor. Her other hand gripped the
spring-loaded device, adjusting it so the red dot on the
notescreen image beside her lay precisely over a spot in
the corridor. Below, Patsy waited at the junction of the
passageways, one hand behind the concealing wall. That
hand held the arc pistol, but if all went well they would
not need it.

If all did not go well, they were probably going to die
in the next twenty seconds or so. Die quickly if they
were lucky.

"One of them," Seld said. "Still only one." He was
peering into the miniscreen jacked into the security
cameras from their local lead. "Still coming."

Bare feet scuffed lightly below. The Kolnari came
swiftly, not running: they seemed to walk on the balls of
their feet in a light half-trot most of the time. He
checked slightly at the sight of Patsy.

"Who goes?" he called.

Stationers not on essential duties were supposed to
be in their cabins. Then he recognized her and smiled.
One taken by the na Marid was a prestigious victim and
here she was, walking alone. He started towards her,
speeding up as she dodged around the corner.

The warrior was stopping and turning even as Joat
keyed the diaphragm open. His speed was awesome,
but she had triggered the hand-cobbled device at the
same instant the panel came down. Behind her there
was a click that meant Seld had cut in the damper. For
the next few minutes, security records would show an
empty corridor. Safe, unless a human observer were

324

Anne McCaffny fef S M. Stirfotg

looking. Even checking the files would show recording
errors, normal enough considering the havoc the Kol-
nari had caused the station computers.

The darts struck the Kolnari as his finger was tighten-
ing on the trigger of his own* weapon. A hundred
thousand volts flowed through the thread-thin super-
conductor wires behind them. He convulsed.

K-tash. Hot air blossomed away from the plasma rifle
aroundarod ofsun-hot violence, literally sun-hot; it was
an ultra-miniaturized, laser-triggered deuterium fusion
pellet focused by magnetic fields. Normally the pirate's
muscle and reflex would have been enough to hold it
steady on his aiming point. Now the superheated gas
slewed his lifeless body around and the substance of the
walls sublimed away, the beam chopping through syn-
thetics and conduits and the empty chambers beyond.
There was a hiss and cherp-cherp-dierp of pressure alarms
as theouter hull was punctured.

Joat winced. That was -not part of the plan. "Quick,"
she said in soft urgency. Dropping down into the cor-
ridor and grasping the pirate's weapon, she heaved it up.

"Here," she gasped, wobbling under the burden of
the clumsy thing. Between them, Seld and Joat got it
up into the duct. Then she bent and grabbed one of the
Kolnari's arms. She heaved and her heels skidded. The
juddering, twitching body was heavy, far heavier than a
man dressed only in a belt and briefs ought to be. Patsy
darted back.

"It's not hm? she said.

"It'll do for starters," Joat said with a grunt.
"C'monr

Together they dragged the body to the airlock
around the corner and cycled it through.

"Meet you at N-7a x L," Joat panted, trotting back to
the open diaphragm. "Need that stuff on the list."

"I'll be there," Patsy said.

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

325

"H will work," Joseph said reassuringly. "At least
once," he amended. "Joat is an odd child, but any con-
traption she claims will function, will function."

Amos nodded dubiously. / have never found reason to
doubt you in matters of violence, he thought. That was
fomforting. On the otnbr hand, no man was infallible,
and even Joseph was an amateur at war.

They were in the lower-equatorial park, near the
central core of the station's upper globe. For a wonder,
there were no surveillance cameras here. By Central
World law, there had to be such places in any substantial
habitat Most of the inhabitants being law-abiding types,
SSS-900-C's was in the park. It was fairly large, several
hundred hectares, with part of the station water-reserves
deployed as lakes and ponds. Currently it was in night-
cycle, and the Kolnari seemed to find that fascinating.
Amos could understand that. He had found it
heartbreakingly like, and yet unlike, Bethel. The scents
were strange, greener, and fresher than the arid hills of
the Sierra Nueva estates, milder than the irrigated
lowlands. Strange birds Ñ or was it small animals? Ñ
chirred and rustled in the undergrowth. He was an out-
doors man, but these were not the fields he knew.

"They come," Joseph said. "To stay," he added.

He moved off into the shadows of the bushes, bent
low, moving with a skill he had learned in the alleys of
his childhood and the hunting grounds of his leader's
properties in later years.

God was not entirely unfair. The Kolnari hearing
was not quite as good as human norm; it need not be in
the thicker air of their homeworld. Amos crouched
with hunter's patience, waiting as if for sicatooth.

God of our fathers, be with me now, he prayed with utter sin-

"Hai, dog-turds, what brings you out this fair
night?" Joseph's voice rang clear. "Tired of banging
your mothers or looking for sheep?"

326

Anne McCaffrty fc? SM. Stating

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

327

Amos felt a lurch of fear. They were counting on the
enemy's inexperience with guerilla tactics, their
arrogance. That was perilously close to counting on
the Kolnari being stupid, and that was dangerous.

Pounding feet came closer: Jgseph's heavier tread,
and the lighter, fester sound of ffie folk the hell-planet
bred. Joseph flashed between the trees with his head
down, arms and legs pumping. The pursuers seemed
to float by contrast, loping effortlessly like men on a
low-gravity moon. Their eyes and trailing manes
glowed lambent in the sjmulated starlight, and their
movements had the aching gracefulness of swans
taking flight. They were beautiful, and horrible
beyond belief, and he feared them in a way that had
nothing to do with the long knives in their hands.

He stepped out. They stopped with a plunging
abruptness. Their heads turned to scan him with the
smooth accuracy of gun-turrets tracking under com-
puter control. Joat had counted on that in designing
her gadget A scanner detected the alignment of their
eyes.

The thing he carried strapped to his chest yawped.
Then it was red-hot, and he was scrabbling to rip it
loose and toss it away. The pirates stumbled as if they
had run into a wall of iron. They screamed as if that
iron were white hot and dropped their knives to tear at
their feces in a frenzy of pain.

Scream, dogs, Amos thought, gratified. Scream as Bethel
screamed, as Bstsy screamed, scumvermin/i&A.

Cries of pain were not going to attract attention on
the SSS-900-C: not while it was held in the Fist of High-
Clan Kolnar.

A dozen men and women edged out of the shadows.
Cutting bars and lengths of dull-gleaming synth tubing
were in their hands. Amos reached over his back and drew
a long curved sword from its sheath with the slender
sound of steel on steel: the motion so long practiced from



blade-dance training that it was as unconscious as breath-
jng. The heads of the Kolnari turned toward the sounds
he made; their ruined eyes were circles ofblood-red now,
and tears of blood dribbled down their cheeks. They
moaned in their agony, but they moved toward him, teeth
hared in a rictus of pain a&d savagery.

"Quickly, but carefully," Amos said to the others dos-
ing in on their victims.

Afterwards they must throw their clothes into dis-
posal and go through full decontamination cleansing.

Joseph was behind the blinded pirates, a half-dozen
stationers at his back. Two knives glinted in his hands.

"Now!" Amos said.

Ç CHAPTER N&ETEEN

"Shall I perform an autopsy, Great Lord?" the
eunuch medico asked in its shrill whine.

Belazir t'Marid lookejtt down at the bodies in their
separate bags. Separate bags, but who knew what went
where? One bag might be a few parts short or extra, for
all he could tell.

"Creature," he said to the eunuchs, cuffing one
aside, "when men have their skulls crushed by heavy
blows Ñ as these have Ñ and their eyes gouged outÑ
as these have Ñ and their throats cut to the neckbone
Ñ as these have Ñ and their bodies cut to pieces, as
these have, then generally speaking, as a rule, they die.
An autopsy seems someems  superfluous."

The noble's voice was even and pleasant, as it usually
was, but the slave medico sank deeper and deeper into
a crouch of abasement with every word, as if they were
blows from the powered whip normally used on such.
At the last, all the eunuch could do was whimper.

"Cease," Belazir said. "Now, this other; in that, I
have interest"

The medico sealed the bags containing the body-
parts of the two dead Kolnari and hastened to the
intact casualty. Relatively intact. He stroked a hand
down the opaque material, and the stuff turned utterly
transparent.

"Whatever killed him, he was not pleased with it,"
Belazir remarked to Serig, looking at the dead man's
bulging, staring eyes. Shifting to the interrogative
tense: "Creature?"

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

329

"It is uncertain, Great Lord. Either the electrocution
or the explosive decompression would be fatal, of
course. Here, the dart struck. See, a burned patch,
high on the shoulder, towards the angle of the jaw. As
he was turning to confront that which killed him, it
struck from the reqr."

"Blindingly obvious," Belazir said facetiously. "Go.
Preserve the bodies."

"And what do you propose to do, t'Marid?" the third
Kolnari noble present said.

"Do, lord Captain t'Varak?" Belazir said, turning
with an expression of perfect courtesy.

TVarak's presence provided a welcome distraction. A
kin-enemy was always more entertaining than outsiders,
if more predictable. He waved a languid hand about
them, at the dew-cool grass, at the holos for overhead that
mimicked the blue cloud-scattered sky of Earth. The
temperature was far below what Kolnari preferred, but
they could endure anything down to and below freezing
without undue discomfort. None of them needed to
wear more than briefs and shipbelt for utility. For status,
the nobles wore long open-necked robes of watered silk,
jewelry of fretted silver, and homeworld fire opals. Their
hair was brushed to shining shoulder-length waterfalls,
pinned back with combs of sea-ivory and precious metal,
and the knife-sharp feathers of Kolnari birds.

Belazir stretched. His robe was severely plain, daz-
zling white with gold and indigo trim.

"I shall enjoy the beauty of this place. So fair, and so
tragic because soon it will perish as if it had never
been." He added a classical quotation on transience
and death in the three-tonal scale.

Anger glowed from the other man, lambent as hot
metal. He might have been Belazu-*s twin, except for a
hair-dip of gold rather than silver and the petulance of
his expression. Belazir t'Marid never showed an
enemy his frustrations.

sso

ArmeMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

"Three of my men are dead, t'Marid," he said.

"Dead!" agreed Belazir in a mild tone. "One slain from
ambush, another two destroyed hand-to-hantl, by scumuer-
mm. Of course, to be caught so carelessly, they became
litde better than scumvermin themselves. Far better for
the Clan that they were cut off before they could breed."
Or breed much; Kolnari became fertile early. "Culling by
the universe, not so? They will leave no sons of disgrace
to propagate lines of weakness amid the Divine Seed."

For a moment, he thought Aragiz would attack him
here, while Belazir was in^ctear command, with Serig at
his side and armored crewfolk from the Dreadful Bride
at his back. If he did, he was better culled out of the
Divine Seed. That was the point of the delicate insult, of
course. Back on Bethel, old Azlek t'Varak had taken off
his helmet a moment too soon and lost his head by such
precipitousness. That had been a scandal of some note,
shadowing the prestige and honor of all his sons Ñ
Aragiz t'Varak not least. The t'Varak were always hotheads,
Belazir thought, amused at his own pun. Azlek had
been all of fifty, though; time enough to be slow and
senile. Aragiz should know better.

He did, though barely. "You should bring the scum-
vermin here under better control," Aragiz said in a
bland tone which matched Belazir's. "Kill a few
hundred. A hundred for one."

"TVarak, t'Varak," Belazir murmured. He bent and
plucked a flower, sniffed deeply of it "There are fifteen
thousand or so scumvermin on this great fat-dripping
morsel that the Clan Ñ and Father Chalku, by the
latest message Ñ yearns to pop into its ever-hungry
mouth. And, if the scumvermin suspect that almost all
of them will die when we are done, some one of them
will sabotage this station and rob the Clan of that feast-
ing, for all that we can do. Despair makes even
scumvermin brave. Hope brings forth their cowardice,
each one hoping for himself."

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

931

A songbird swooped by. Belazir's hand snapped out
like a trout rising to a fly and caught the tiny creature
within the cave of his hand. He brought it up under
Aragiz's nose as the soft feathers brushed his skin, in
rhythm with its heartbeat.

"I have them in my mt, cousin," he went on. "Shall I
open it Ñ" he suited words to action "Ñ and let them
go?" The bird flew away.

"Blood calls for blood," Aragiz said. "Avenge our
blood, or you are no Clan leader."

"Blood-call can wait a few days," Belazir said, his
voice flint-hard as the two men stared face-to-face.
"Until the transports arrive," he added negligently.
"Eight days to load and leave, and watch this station
vanish in a spark of fire as we go. Because Father
Chalku's message giving me mandate over all the High
Clan in this action has already come, has it not**

"It has," Aragiz said. "Be glad, O cousin, be very glad
of that!"

"Be assured I am," Belazir said ambiguously. "And
now, Lord Captain, load your ship with choice loot. Let
you and your fighters enjoy themselves as they will
among the scumvermin, so long as they do not reduce
the slave work-output." He dropped his voice to a
whisper. "Do not obstruct me, t'Varak. Not until you
can bring the Clan a prize like this."

"No. Not yet."

Belazir watched him go. "Serig," he said, "behold.
Never underestimate an enemy."

"Aragiz, lord?" Serig said incredulously.

Belazir threw back his head and laughed merrily.
"No, no. 1 should have specified; never underestimate
even a scumuermm enemy. As that dolt does. This
station's two leaders, they have between them a three
hundred percent increment upon poor Aragiz's sum
total of wits. He has the technique of a tungfor."

332

Amu McCaffny fc? SM. Stating

That was a metaphor for the younger Kolnari, who
had never seen homeworld. In Kolnar's seas, there was
an animal Ñ more or less an animal Ñ that con-
centrated the abundant transuranics from seawater in
a specialized section of its gut. It sucked in water and
sprayed it on the heated chamber that resulted, expell-
ing it behind as steam for proptUsion. Tunglor massed
in at about the same as the Dreadful Bride, and they
attacked by rising from depth at fifty or sixty knots and
ramming with their metal-sapphire-fiber prows, never
deviating from the shortest course. Belazir's ancestors
had made themselves nobles by hunting tunglor, hunt-
ing them to gain plutonium for weapons and
powerplants.

"As you do when you take your pleasure," Belazir
went on, slapping his companion on the back of the
neck in mock reproof.

Serig grinned slyly. "It's not as if they were women"
He omitted the "lord" in this brief instance, speaking
man to man. "And how will you take this Channa
creature?"

"With slow care, fool, as all true pleasures should be
savored: wine, a woman, revenge. And on the Dreadful
Bride, when we have left," Belazir said.

Serig raised brows in surprise. "You think her wor-
thy of bearing slaves, lord?" he said.

"Many." The male offspring would be castrated Ñ
that was how such as the medico were madeÑand the
females bred back to the Divine Seed. In four or five
generations, with careful testing, they could become
Kolnari of the lowest caste.

"I will need some pleasure to relax me after our
labors," Belazir added.

Serig nodded, needing no further explanation.
They would have to destroy and leave for Bethel
immediately. The Central Worlds Navy would be all
over these stars as soon as they learned of the

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

333

destruction of SSS-900-C. The Clan would run a
long, long way, to wait among unpeopled, unsur-
veyed systems while they assimilated this treasure
and bred the strength to use it. Empty systems held
raw materials and energy in plenty, if you had the
I0ols, and the uni^gerse was unimaginably vast. That
voyage would be a giant step nearer the good day
when it was the Central Worlds' scumvermin who
were the scattering of fugitives, and the Divine Seed
the power that bred and covered world upon world
upon world. A long, if necessary, flight would be
tedious.

"So, leave me," Belazir said. "See to the preparations
for the transports. Now I will speak with the two scum-
vermin."

Their Kolnari guards seemed incapable of letting
them just walk through a doorway. The prisoners were
always propelled over the threshold with a hearty
shove. Thus far Channa and Amos had managed to
keep their feet, which seemed to inspire ever more
energetic pushing. Channa wondered if the two
guards bet money on which of them would stumble
first Such treatment irritated her and it must infuriate
Amos beyond endurance, since he was born noble
among a ceremonious people.

The last door gave onto the nature deck, one of the
jewels of the SSS-900-C. Amos straightened then,
almost smiling. The deck covered several hundred
hectares; lakes, several small wooded areas, and
meadows. A stream wandered from savannah to a min-
iature rain forest, through prairie and into the softly
informal confines of a classic country-house garden,
here by the entrance. Herons stalked through the
reeds by the river, alert for the fish that leaped after
dragonflies. The smell was overwhelmingly green. Off
in the middle distance, a herd of small deer browsed.

334

Amu McCoffrey 6? SM. Stirling

The air was full of birdsong. Normally there were
parties of picnickers and the shouts of children. Now a
plasma gun swung down before them.

"Wait the Great Lord's pleasure, scumvermin," the
amplified voice of the Kolnar said^,

Ok-oh, Channa thought, with a sinking stomach. That
sounds bad. She and Amos had discussed what to do
under interrogation, but she had doubts about his
ability to keep control of his temper.

As for me, FU live through what I have to. And Ptt dance on
their graves, she thought grimly. She had been one of
the first to take the new virus.

"Buck up, kid," Simeon's voice whispered in her
inner ear. It had the odd gravelly tone he adopted in
tense moments. "Remember, I've got no fixed sensors
in there, so the implants will have to do. I'm with you,
and I'll give a running translation of anything the
pirates say in their jabber. Okay? And from the struc-
ture of their language, the phrase they just used means
something like 'front and center.'"

"Got it," she subvocalized.

They jumped back against the wall smardy when a
Kolnari bossman came through, looking as if he would
rather walk over them. For a moment, Channa thought
it was Belazir, and then caught the few subde differences
which told her he was not. Simeon's voice confirmed it
Serig followed, a minute later. They both cast their eyes
down, to avoid showing the raw desire to kill they shared.

"Now, scumvermin," the guard said.

"Ohhhhh, am I getting sick of hearing that word," Channa
subspoke.

"You and me and Simeon-Amos both," Simeon
agreed. The Bethelite had the button in his ear, but he
hadn't been able to train a subvocal level that was
inaudible. The Kolnari didn't hear all that well at the
margins of audibility and had no reason to use sensitive
hearing devices.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

335

Belazir had set up his command post beneath a huge
oak tree. He lolled at his ease on a reclining chair, a
wreath of fresh wildflowers adorned his hair, dappled
shade moving on his sleek skin and the priceless silks of
his clothing. On one side of him was a mobile console
and a table scattered with notescreens, printouts, small
pieces of equipment Also some artwork which Simeon
recognized, garnered from galleries and the museum.

One piece Channa did not remember and the brain
could not name, a flamboyant carving in some bone or
ivory of a... submarine with fangs? jet-propelled spearjish*
Whatever, it had the same air of ruthless speed that a
striking hawk might

"Ah, your eyes light on the tunglor," Belazir said
affably. As always, the sheer physicalpresence of the man
struck her like a blow. "From homeworld... Kolnar."

The guard behind them reached out an arm to force
them down.

"No, to one knee will do," Belazir said easily. His
Standard was better, even in these few days. "Do you
wish refreshment?"

He waved to his other side to the table where food and
bottles of wine rested, patently supplied by the Perimeter
Restaurant The young waitress was from the Perimeter,
too, although there she had worn clothes.

"No, Master and God," Amos and Charma said in
meek unison.

Belazir smiled and held out his hand. The waitress
put a water-glass tumbler of Mart'an's famous apricot-
brandy liqueur into it. He drank it off in ten long
swallows and Channa knew a moment's wild hope.

Simeon's voice was sour. "No joy," he sent. "I
checked with Chaundra. They metabolize ethanol so
fast he'll only be mildly buzzed.**

"Well," the pirate said in that voice like a bronze bell
that purred. "There is business. The matter of the
attack on the Divine Seed of Kolnar."

336

AnneMcCaffny &?SJW. Staling

"He's not too upset, I think," Simeon told them.
"Heartbeat absolutely Kolnar-normal, no pupil dila-
tion. Got an idea the victims may have been from one of
the other ships. Play it polite-firnj."

"Lord and God," Channa saii "The criminals will
be found and punished."

Subvocal from Simeon: "You hit hisfurmybone with that,
Happy. He's killing himself laughing mside."

Channa went on. "I've made several general broad-
casts calling for obedience, Master and God."

"So you have. I notice,joo, that it is always you and
not your companion... colleague?"

"Simeon-Amos is Ñ" Channa fell silent as the
Kolnari's hand indicated that Simeon-Amos should
answer.

"I am the junior, Master and God," Amos said, eyes
fixed on the ground.

"Look at me, Simeon-Amos." The stares met for
long seconds. Then Belazir gestured again, turning his
attention back to Channa. "Well and good. As we
expect to hold the station in our fist for some time,
these acts of stupidity must cease."

"Lying through his teeth, babe."

"You sent messages desiring audience, Channahap,"
Belazir went on. He rose, like a black fountain tipped
with white gold, the loose sleeves floating back from his
arms like wings. He looked down from his near two
meters of height. "Continue."

"Master and God," she said, in a tone as empty of any
but the formal semantic content as she could make it,
"your troops fornicate like Ñ" she paused to search for
a word "Ñ rotweilers."

"Big chuckle at that one, Charmie." Simeon was furious.

Belazir crossed his arms. "Why does this not seem
complimentary?"

Channa looked up at him. "They bite," she said
emotionlessly, covering her disgust, "all the time."

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

337

"Then the sc Ñ the chosen ones should not resist
their fete," Belazir said. "It is our custom when we meet
resistance."

"They don't resist!" Channa said sharply, then
managed a taut smile. "Should we bite back?"

A rustle went throijgh the line of armored troops
behind Belazir and the duster of officers with feathers
and jewels in their hair. The noble silenced them with a
toss of his head.

"I would not recommend it," he said sardonically.
"The custom to which I refer is that of enjoying the
fruits of victory. A most ancient custom, surely, even
you must know of it? Make another of your speeches.
Outline their duties. A hard, sincere effort to please.
Then they shall be caressed as they labor, not savaged."

"Master and God, when you bruise the fruit too much,
it goes bad! The problem is that I have a hundred people
in sickbay being sewn back together and under medica-
tion due to human bites and various other wounds.
Initially, there were three hundred sick to begin with, not
counting the ones who've been flogged."

"Are they injured?"

No, apart from shaking and crying and waking up with
nightmares, she thought The Kolnari had a whip that did
something to the nervous system. "Master and God Ñ"
however she tried, she couldn't quite keep the sarcasm
out of that"Ñ the problem involves vital work positions
which are left empty. This isn't a planet It doesn't run
itself. Everything has to be done without error. Fatigue
leads to error, error leads to failure, and failure can lead
to death. I cannot do the impossible, order me however
you want"

"Now that," he said, "is the wrong tone." Suddenly he
was much closer, and took her chin between thumb and
forefinger. "Entirely. Do you understand, Channahap?"

"Yes," she murmured, "yes, I understand." Time
seemed to slow.

338

Anne McCaffiny fcf 5. M. Stirling

He smiled. "Excellent. However, your remarks, if
not the manner in which they were delivered, are
reasonable. I shall give orders that my troops be...
gentler with their slaves. After you have emphasized
the proper attitude toward their duties."

Channa's eyes widened.

He actually laughed this time~"Yes," he assured her,
"that, too, is our custom. Those of you that please us or
are useful will leave this place on our ships." He
watched her absorb this privilege.

"Walk with me," he sa;& putting a hand under her
arm. She jerked slightly at the contact, like the touch of
a live conductor.

Amos started to follow. A servo-powered gauntlet
closed down on his skull, so gently that it would not
have cracked an egg. A duplicate of the one that had
crushed his sister's skull. Wind blew through the trees
above them, making the leaves move in a dance that
contrasted to the stillness of the humans below.

"A strange way to spend so much effort," Belazir
said, as he nodded to the landscape around them. A
chuckle passed his lips. "Preferable to expend effort
and strength on this than on weapons."

"Who does he think buiU his ships and the weapons they're
carrying* " Simeon whispered in her ear.

Channa shrugged in answer to both.

"Still, it is beautiful," he said. His hand traced the
back of her neck, lightly enough that the pads of his
fingers just touched the hairs. She shivered involun-
tarily.

"I am not Serig," he added, stroking the fingers
down her spine and away. "This is like Earth, is it not?"

"Mosdy," Channa said. Unconsciously she tilted her
head to one side away from Belazir as Simeon gave her
the relevant information. "A few of the plants and
organisms are from Rigel 4, but they're compatible."

"Like looking back into the past," he said. They

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

339

stopped, out of sight of the tables. He looked up into
the sky. "Computer," he said. "Night."

The constellations of Earth's northern hemisphere
blazed out, as they had not in reality since men learned
to bend electricity to light.

"Yes," t'Marid sakl, looking upward at the false sky.
"Very beautiful, but it seems too much openness. As if a
body might fell upward and be sucked out into limitless

space."

Well, a weakness, she thought. Many spaceborn were
slightly agoraphobic. That could be useful, if Belazir
had been spaceborn.

She thought a smile appropriate. "The sensation is
called vertigo. I've occasionally experienced it myself
when planet-side. I was born and raised on a space sta-
tion, so I feel more comfortable under a ceiling."

"Something of that," he admitted. "But also... Com-
puter. Night on Kolnar. From Maridapore."

Channa gasped in shock at the change. The dark sky
overhead vanished. In its place was a glowing moon-
colored cloud full of colored lights from horizon to
horizon. She blinked, then realized the light was not
that much more brilliant than the Terran sky. Yet this
phenomenon was not a sky: it was a ceilmg across
heaven.

"A dozen times full Luna brightness," Simeon supplied.

Off to the north, auroras circled and moved, scrolls
vaster than worlds, electric blue and white and pearl.
Beneath them, on the horizon, a volcano was a glowing
firestorm spout, powered by its own natural fission
reactor. Something gigantic and winged slid across the
alien constellations. Smaller things pursued it, diving
and tearing as it fluted an intricate song of grief.

"I have never seen this sky," he said thoughtfully.
"Not really. Not even a simulation as good as this." He
issued a second command and the Earth night
returned. "This is more restful."

340

Arme McCaffny &? 5M. Stating

"Ah ... The birds won't like it if you change day to
night like this," Channa said. "You'd better set it back
when you leave. Master and God," she added absently.

He looked at her in astonished amusement. "The
birds won't like it?" he said. "Ghannahap, you are a
wonder. The birds won't like iff*the insects will be dis-
turbed ... does this matter?"

"We brought them here, to a totally unnatural
environment If we expect them to thrive, then it's our
responsibility to provide them with whatever they
need. They're a part offill this," she said gesturing
widely. "Without the birds and the insects, this would
be sterile, a lifeless tableau. So we have to be mindful of
their needs."

He nodded. "I shall leave it on night setting and
dawn shall be in twelve hours. Things have changed
here. Even the birds must realize it"

Channa had no reply for that bit of arrogance.

"That is the supreme law, of course," he went on,
"for Earth, for Kolnar, for the universe."

She made an interrogative sound.

"Adapt! Master changing circumstance, or die
unbred. The Seed Ñ the genes, you would say Ñ are
the reality that underlies all this. Taking energy from
the Dead World, growing in complexity and adapta-
tion. All this," and, with a swift movement of his hand,
he caught a dragonfly by its legs for a second, then
released it, "is waves on the surface. Beneath is the
Seed, seeking to replicate itself. All beings, all mind, all
war and trade and art and science, mere waves on the
changeless sea." He smiled kindly. "And fittest of all, of
course, is the Divine Seed of Kolnar. Of that Seed, fit-
test is the High Clan. Which is why you long for union
with it, for such immortality."

"I disagree. Lord and God."

"No, you do not Your mind may, but that is merely
the vehicle of the ... gene. Watch, when we return.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

341

Your Simeon-Amos will be enraged. Naturally enough,
for he suspects the immortality you offer is to be taken
from his seed." He sighed and turned back towards the
tables, hidden behind a line of trees. She trotted to keep
pace, although he did not seem to hurry. "Enough of
pleasant idleness and ]¤hilosophizing. To work!"

"Simeon, why do all my Prince Charmings turn out to be
toads?" Channa subvocalized. Amos stood stiff and
withdrawn beside her on the people mover as it slid
down the corridor. "Is he really jealous? Under these cir-
cumstances, that's ridiculous!"	,;

"/('5 also maybe involuntary. Your girl goes walking m the
woods with Lucifer, chattmguup..."

"Absurd!"

"Beats me, Channa. But FU never, ribbit, turn onya. Rib-
bit!"

"Or turn me on, either. It's nice to know someone is still safe
to be with."

Whoa! Kick me again, Channa, I think some of my ego is
still unbruised.

"That is the scariest son of a bitch I've ever had the
misfortune to meet," she said. Amos nodded silently.

"Simeon-Amos?"

"Yes, Channa?"

"Hold me, would you?" His arm went around her,
and she melted into die firm supportive warmth of his
side. "Thank you," she said.

"For what?" His tone was light

"For not really being green and warty or eating
flies."

"Ah, guys?" This time Simeon's voice came to both of
them. "I just figured something out"

"What?" Amos said.

"Bad news about Bethel."

The Bethelite stiffened again, his face drawing in
lines that showed what he might look like on his

342

AnneMcCaffrey fc? SM. Stxrlxng

deathbed, in the currently unlikely event that he would
live to die of old age.

"What?" Amos repeated, this time as a command.

"These scumbags Ñ I'm not going to use scumver-
mm, even in reverse Ñ they're planning to loot me bare
and then blow me up."

Simeon was understandably upset if he was refer-
ring to the SSS-900-C as "me."

"That is bad news for you," Amos said, steeling him-
self for how that would also be bad news for Bethel.

"But if they do that, th^Central Worlds Navy will
firid out Ñ would find out, even if the Kolnari had
pulled this hijack off the way we fooled them into
thinking they had. Central Worlds'd send flotillas all
through this sector and look behind every space rock.
For sure, they'd inspect any inhabited system. While
the Saffron system may be ferdlin' remote, it's still on
the maps. And the Kolnari know that, hey* So they're
sacrificing their chance of stripping Bethel in exchange
for the station. Means they gotta leave both, fast. So
what odds they plan on doing Bethel the same way
they do me, when they go? Blow it, too, and cover any
traces they hadn't time to sweep under the carpet.
These guys are pigs, but they're not stupid.*1

"Yes, I see," Amos said, barely moving his lips.
"Sound strategic analysis. Thank you, Simeon."

Thanks for nothing, the brain thought dismally. Amos
had had the comfort of knowing die Navy would at
least rescue the survivors on his homeworld, win or
lose here on SSS-900-C.

"Anything we can do about that?* Channa asked as
they entered the lounge.

"Not much more than what we're doing now,"
Simeon said. "But it's going to be a very dose run at the
end. We've got to be ready, at all costs. Minutes may
make the difference."

***

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

343

Keri Holen tried to read, but she'd been on the same
page for some time now and still had no idea of its con-
tent. Trivia, she thought. Before her life was put in
danger, all her friends and family's lives, she hadn't
known what triviality was. It was anything that didn't
have to do with keepinj you alive; anything that didn't
have to do with winning.

"On the other hand, fretting doesn't do me any
good, either," she said. Why did I volunteer* she asked
herself. Well, the risk mas there anyway, and we need to get the
second vims working, she thought. Not everyone was a
gymnast and martial artist, either.

Frustrated, she threw the reader onto the cushion
beside her and rose to pace the room. There was a soft
chime and Simeon's public face bloomed on the wall
screen.

"The Kolnari are in your area," he said, warning all
those in the threatened sector. "Get your virus capsules
in position. Don't panic. Don't argue or they will harm
you. Remember, place the capsule in your mouth, bite
down, try not to swallow. Good luck," he added fervently.

Keri rushed to the cabinet where she had stored her
supply among other pharmaceuticals. Her hands were
shaking so much the capsules flew out of the bottle like
confetti when she at last got it open. Moaning, she
rushed to gather them up and put them away before
the Kolnari arrived. She put one in her mouth, hold-
ing it between cheek and gum.

She returned to the living area and stood watching
the door, fingers twining with the tabs of her robe. She
could feel her pulse beat in her lips and fingertips, she
felt as though she'd been running.

The door opened.

God, she thought as she bit down on the capsule.
There are four of them! The capsule dissolved with a rush
of coolness. Keri smiled broadly and let the robe drop.

"Welcome to my parlor." Said the spider to the fly.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Mazkira entered the elevator and selected her des-
tination. The mining components fabricator was a
treasure of immense value to the Clan. With it, they
could scavenge several crucial materials from unin-
habited asteroids at need. Besides that, the
scumvermin operator was a pleasure to torment, in
several different ways. She grinned. Then the expres-
sion faded. She could smell him, the scent was heavy in
the cage Ñ far more than it should have been when he
merely passed through several times daily.

She looked up... into the barrel of a rock-cutter and
above it the grinning face of Kevin Duane.

"Eat this, bitch!" he snarled and powered up the cut-
ter. He cut the Kolnari woman in half lengthwise and
smiled as he watched the two sizzling halves crumple to
the floor.

The elevator arrived at his level and he replaced the
hatch cover. There was the access tunnel, just where
Joat had told him it would be.

He handed Joat the rock-cutter and she raised an
inquiring brow. He gave her a grin and a thumbs-up
sign. Suddenly the elevator dropped out from under-
neath him and he was holding on by his elbows, feet
scrabbling against the slick shaft walls. He inched his way
in, his broad shoulders making it difficult to maneuver.
Far below he could hear the elevator coming up again.

"Hurry up!" Joat said, sliding the rock-cutter down
the access tunnel and turning back to pull him in by his
shirt.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

545

All she succeeded in doing was pulling it up over his
head; his arms were almost immobilized by the tough
febric.

"Stop," he said. "Stop it."

"Hurry up!" she cried and slid backwards to give
him room. "Or thaj: elevator will smear your carcass all
the way to the top of the station."

He was most of the way in now, but couldn't seem to
get his feet in. He began to panic, barking his knees on
the side walls of the tunnel, the space too narrow to
allow him to turn or pull up his legs. In a panic, he
caught at Joat's legs and yanked. Her palms squealed
on die slick metal as she struggled futilely to keep her
place.

The drag was just enough to get him all the way in,
the side of the elevator lifted the soles of his feet gently
as it passed.

Kevin dropped his head into his arms and giggled
with mild hysteria.

Joat glared at him for a moment, then grinned and
whispered, "Hooray! Another one for our side."

"Yes?" Belazir said, looking up from his notescreen.

It was the medico again. The Kolnari repressed an
impulse to kick it. If you hit messengers, messages
ceased coming. On the other hand, his rime was valu-
able. Especially now, with the transports here and
loading round the cycle.

The thought restored his good humor. Sixty ships, a
fifth part of the Clan's fleet, under his command. Not
only transports, but a fighting platform and a couple of
the factory ships. It was as good as having Chalku
proclaim him successor. Better, since his chances of
living long enough to claim it were much higher. A for-
mal announcement might drive some brick-skull like
Aragiz t1 Varak to desperation.

"Great Lord, there is... a problem."

346

AnmMcCaffrry & S.M. Sorting

"Mine or yours, creature?" he said, slightly
impatient The loading was going so slowly.

"Great Lord, we have disabling sickness."

"What?" Suddenly he was looming over the eunuch.

"No, pleasel Don't hurt me. lUfc only old Veskis, the
bonesetter. Please, my Great Lord?"

Belazir's aquiline nostrils flarett "Speak."

"Over sixty ill warriors have sought medical aid,
Great Lord. We have never seen the like." It swal-
lowed. "Great Lord, we do not know how to cure the
illness!"

Belazir had just finished a large meal. Now it lay Hke
curdled hot lead in his gut. Impossible. He tapped at the
notescreen, accessing recent files. Yes, over thirty war-
riors put down or suicided for infection. Not completely
unprecedented, but among the heaviest numerically of
instances on record. If another threescore had reported
sick, there must be many who had not

"How does the illness run?" Belazir asked.

"Swiftly in some, Great Lord. Fever, loss of nervous
control, debility, nausea. Others more mildly. Still
others recover quickly and are whole. From the blood
of those I may produce a vaccine, in tune."

"Do so," Belazir ordered, "Swiftly." In time to avoid
spoiling my triumph here, he thought "Wait"

He tapped his notescreen again. Most sickness
occurred among those on no fixed duty. Of those,
t'Varak's ship suffered the most casualties. Belazir
racked his brain for what he knew of diseases. Not
much, since Kolnari were rarely bothered by disease:
accident, yes. He reflected on this problem, queried the
info-banks, thought again.

"Orders," he said. "Isolate those infected." Those
whom they could, that is. A noble could be killed but not
placed under restraint "This may.. ." He hesitated. "May
be related to the disease troubling the scumvermin."
Hideous, that a disease would strike the Divine Seed

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

347

more strongly than mere scumvermin. "The infected
scumvermin are to be avoided. Go, post the orders,**

That such a scourge should arise nowy he thought,
looking back at the notescreen. Loading was moving
far too slowly. Chalku £ad given him a deadline; past
that, they were to abandon anything remaining, kill
and leave. If there was much less than he had
promised, he would go from hero to goat Even if the
total he did manage was more than any other Kolnari
had amassed, performance and prestige would be
measured against expectation.

"Time," he muttered. Time was wasting, and the
margin for error with it He stood. "Computer. Kolnar,
noon at Maridapore."

White-blue light flashed across the parkland, hurtful
even to him in the instant before his pupils shrank to
pinhead size.

Jekit nor Varak prowled the corridors. He was not in
powered armor. There were not enough suits to go
around and their maintenance requirements were
fierce. The patrol was to enforce curfew and prevent
sabotage, which was becoming a problem. He was in a
flexible suit, with a comlink and a plasma rifle. The cor-
ridors in this section were darkened, which gave his
IR-sensitive eyes the advantage over any scumvermin.

As if I needed it, he thought. His main enemy was
tedium. The corridors were changeless and identical.
Ten paces left, take a turn at random. Trot down a long
length, checking that the seals on the doors were
unbroken. Flatten to a wall and wait He did isometrics
then, muscle pulling on muscle against the strong
flexible bones of his body. Nothing much else to do;
except that he tired too soon, probably because of the
damnable light gravity he had been living in on this sta-
tion. It would be a relief to get back to Kolnar-standard
on the ship.

348

Anne McCaffrcy 6? SM. Stating

Although there were compensations. Keriholen, for
example. Jekit's teeth clicked together as he remem-
bered how they had taken her, he and his brothers.
Many times since the first occasion.

Worth the trouble, he thought timber as an eel and tire-
less as a real woman. Women were scarce for commoners.
The nobles took so many. He and his four brothers Ñ
they were born at one birthingÑhad only two wives be-
tween them, held in common, and a mere eight children.

Jekit was sweating. He wiped his face on a sleeve and
resumed the pacing, trying to push such thoughts out
of his mind. Not until after his watch. It was hot,
whatever the gauge said. His stomach felt odd. Maybe
the plundered food was bad, although the Divine Seed
could eat pretty well anything organic.

Simeon watched the pirate. This Jekit was a perfect
choice. Definitely had the Mark-II virus, too pig-
ignorant to know it and he was almost asleep from
boredom anyway. A little surprise would be good for
his circulation.

He checked the progress of the relief party, ten sol-
diers and a squad leader. Plenty of witnesses, also
perfect Timing was the key. They had only two guards
to relieve before they reached Jekit.

Hurt my people, will you, Jekit? he thought. Okay, now
let's see how you tike being on the other end of the stick.

He began whispering. The words were loud enough
to be audible, but not loud enough to be understood.
Just nonsense syllables pronounced in inflections
similar to the Kolnari language, minute after minute,
not steadily but rising and falling and stopping
altogether for random intervals. Then an increase in
the volume until the nonsense was a tease, tantalizingly
on the edge of audibility. Add subsonics guaranteed to
have the hair standing up along the spine, although
Kolnari didn't have body hair.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

549

Goosebumps, then, he decided. Jekit paced, stopped,
shook his head and brought the plasma rifle to port,
thumbing off the safety.

Doesn't this snardfy have any nerves ? Simeon asked him-
self in frustration. Then he added the refinement;
things flickering atfhe edge of vision. The pirate was
probably seeing things without Simeon's visual aids
since the sensors said his temperature was five percent
over normal and rising. Sweat poured down his fece.
That was rare since the Kolnari metabolism didn't
waste moisture.

Simeon constructed a less transparent image. Ah,
that made him jump, Simeon thought. "Rankest!" he
whispered, just loud enough to be understood.

Die, in Kolnari.

"Who's there?" Jekit called out, swinging his weapon
around. "Who goes? Answer me.r

Simeon had a conversation going now, male and
female voices whispering vehemently. He moved the
whisperers down the corridors, through chambers and
halls and galleries. Now they were around the corner,
now they were overhead, now right behind him.

Jekit spun, his weapon leveled. "Scumvermin!" he
shouted. The warning indicator flicked as his
forefinger took up the slack on the trigger key.

The squad had exited the elevator on Jekit's level
and were marching towards his station. Trotting like a
wolf-pack, rather; the leader was in armor, moving at
the same pace. Slam-slam-slam, half a tonne pounding
down at every step.

The Kolnari had his back pressed to the wall Simeon
overlaid the powersuit's footfalls, turning them into
drumbeats in time with the fevered warrior's own heart
His head was snapping back and forth wildly, rims of
white showing around the amber of his eyes.

Off to the right, around the corner from which his
replacement would come, a voice called.

350

ArmeMcCaffny&SM Stating

IJekit!" His officer called. "Turn to, idler, fool!
Report"

Jekit almost moaned with relief, opening his mouth
to call back. When he did he found the words matched,
overlaid, neutralized by something. Shout, scream, noth-
ing but the same blurred yammer.

"Painrod for you, seedless stothman," came the
warning from his officer.

Jekit crouched and began making his way along the
wall towards the voice. Halfway down the long wall, he
jerked and vomited convulsively, bewildered. It had
never happened to him before, that he lost his food.

Footsteps sounded from around the corner as the
replacement squad advanced smartly towards him. He
heard a soft hiss behind him and turned. He screamed
as he looked into a shape out of homework! legend, a
twenty-eyed worm with gnashing concentric mouths,
thicker through the body than a man was high.

"Ancha\" he screamed and fired. Grinder. There was
nothing wrong with his reflexes yet, and the spear of
nuclear fire lanced through the monster.

Gotcha, Simeon thought again. He'd been pretty
sure that worm program was modeled on something
native to Kolnar. So its name was "grinder"!
Appropriate enough.

"Grinder** vanished. Behind it was a figure in power
armor, slowly topping over backwards with the whole
upper pan of the torso gone. The squad behind had
already gone to earth and returned fire. A line of light
touched Jekit's right shoulder, and the plasma gun fell
away. The blurring, blanking wall of un-sound fell
away from his ears so suddenly that he could hear the
slight whine as the weapon automatically cycled
another deuterium pellet into the chamber. A plasma
beam licked out at Jekit and his legs vanished from the
knees down.

And he was still hot. His wounds did not hurt yet,

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

351

insulated by shock, although he could smell the heavy
fried meat odor. But his head hurt, it hurt... Tlie others
were rushing forward to secure him for interrogation. It
would go very badly for them if he died first

Aurnght! Simeon thought Still, it should be fun lis-
tening to Jekit, the mighty warrior, explaining why he
freaked like that Now, rvho's next?

Belazir and Aragiz knelt together before Pol t'Veng.
She was wearing the black robe and hood of an
adjudicator and, in the dim light, that left only the yel-
low glow of her eyes visible. Belazir knelt with grace.
The t'Veng was inferior by rank and birth, but she was
efficient Also a woman, of course, but that meant less
these days than it had on Kolnar. Everything in space
was a protected environment, like the fortress-holds.
You either lived or died, generally. Aragiz knelt in
quivering tension and the smell of his rage was musky,
irritating to Belazir.

"I find," she said at last, "that Jerik nor Varak, free
common-fighter of subclan t'Varak, opened fire on
clan-kin while in hostile ground, without prior attack."
That was the only excuse, and motivations or reasons
mattered nothing, by Kolnari law.

"He killed: one petit-noble officer of subclan t'Marid.
He destroyed: one suit of powered armor. Here is the
judgment of the High Clan.

"At the next rendezvous of all units, t'Varak gens
shall render to Belazir t'Marid forty hundred units of
Clan credit or goods to the same value, neutrally
appraised. They shall also render five breeding-age
but unbred females of petit-noble or higher rank, fully
educated. In addition, Belazir t'Marid may go among
the concubines and wives of Aragiz t'Varak for one
cycle and sow there as he wills. Aragiz t'Varak shall do
likewise among Belazir t'Marid's. Judgement is
rendered."

352

Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. Sttrting

As one, they bowed low enough to touch their
foreheads to the deck. A good judgement, Belazir
thought. Fair, wise, and most of all, expedient. Part of
the longstanding trouble was that the t'Varak gens
were not as closely linked by seed as ike rest of the High
Clan families. They had been landless mercenaries on
homeworld, and had had the bad hick to sign on with
the High Clan just before a war that ripped up half a
continent and ended in headlong flight for the sur-
vivors. Technically mercenaries were not subject to the
extermination-proscriptioivo'f the vanquished nobility.
Like peasants and commoners, they could switch
allegiance to the winning side. Technicalities did tend
to get lost in the fine glow of victory, though....

Of course, Aragiz t'Varak would be unlikely to look at it
in quite that way. Still, in the long term, knowing the
closer relationship would reduce hostility. Hopefully.

Without word or gesture, Aragiz rose and stalked
out. No style at all, Belazir thought The fine was a trifle
compared to what the station was bringing in, and they
both had sixty or seventy children already. He merely
hoped the t'Varak intellect was training and not a taint.
The lights came up, and Pol removed the hood. That
changed her from adjudicator to ordinary noble once
more. "Fool," she said, with no need to say exactly who.
"Dolt," he agreed, and snapped his fingers.
Serig entered. They setded in comfortably.
"Loading is going too slowly," Belazir said.
"Truth, lord," Serig answered.

"Okay," Simeon whispered in Channa's ear. "He's in

position."

The loading bay at the south-polar docking tube was
more crowded than it had ever before been in the
station's seventy-odd years, mostly cluttered with disas-
sembled equipment from the electronics fabricators
two levels below, broken down just enough to let them

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

353

be moved through the freight elevators. It would be
more efficient to strip them down further and box the
components, but that made them too easy to sabotage.
There had been executions of stationers after Kolnari
inspections showed hoy easy. Delicate electronics...

Weird, Channa thought, ostentatiously looking down
at her notescreen. There had been no reprisals at all
for the deaths and there had been a fair number. The
Kolnari had just increased their patrols, as if taunting
the stationers.

Channa turned to the pirate technician. Even weirder.
You didn't think of pirates as having technicians. They
looked much the same as the sleekly dangerous warriors
and flamboyant nobles, but brisker.

Then again, they've kept thousands of people and hundreds
of skips going for three generationsÑseven of theirs.

"Lord," she said in the appropriate meek tone,
"here's the next load. Do you accept?"

The Kolnari looked at the fabricator. It was a spindle-
shaped synth-and-metal machine about three meters long
and one through at the widest point; half tubing and
molecular shape chambers, half modules. Both points of
the spindle ended in tapped burls that fitted into a bearing
race. Underneath it was a floater cradle withÑapparently
Ñsix arms and a twenty-centimeter base.

The Kolnari said something in her own language to
her team Ñ women were more common among their
technical class, evidently Ñ and they went to work,
plugging in their own info-systems and a portable
power-feed to bring the fabricator up to standby.

"All order is,** the pirate said to her, waving her back.
"Scumvermin, next bring.**

The loading bay was one hundred meters by two
hundred by three. Two Clan transports were docked at
the outer hatches. Two-thirds of the way down the
deck, the enemy had drawn a red line. On either side
was a squad in power armor. Floating over them were

354	Amu McCaffny&SM. Stirling

pods of small servo-guns, antipersonnel weapons,
heavy needlers that could be fired without endanger-
ing the fabric of the station. The weapons were highly
dangerous to anyone not in combat armor, of course.
Stationside of the line were civilians, working mostly in
their own teams with a few Kolnari for supervision.
Dockside of the line were only the Clan, crews. There
were three checks from the initial position to the line:
once while the equipment was being stripped down, a
second when the stationer stevedores took charge, and
a third when it was ready to go pver the line itself.

If any of the checks showed damage, the stationers in
charge were flogged to death with a powered whip.
Falling below quota earned ten strokes, which reduced
the team's efficiency drastically but was a very potent

motivator.

It was ingenious, and working far too well.

Simeon murmured again. "Yeah, they're locked in."

Channa forced herself not to look at the eyes of the
Kolnari. However Simeon was doing it, it was not
simple holographic projection. Maybe tightbeam on
the retina....

Amos was whistling cheerfully as he swung the lifter
around. God, he's even gutsier than he is pretty, Channa
thought They'd volunteered for this. Too many nerves
had been shattered by the holocast record of die flog-
gings. Someone had to restore confidence. To the
Kolnari, it looked like the leaders were giving an
example of enthusiastic obedience. Joseph bowed low
as he handed over the controller pad for the cradle.
Across the back of his overall was printed Scumuermin
Rule OK. One of Simeon's suggestions to build morale.

The cradle followed obediently over the red line,
behind the Kolnari technicians and toward the waiting
cargo bay of the transport The line divided the gravity
fields; one Standard gravity at the line itself, running
quickly up to 1.6 at the lowered ramp-entrance. The

THE CrTY WHO FOUGHT

355

work party moved through the crowds and the waiting
chains of lifters. There was a howl as the four light arms
_ suddenly there were only four Ñ of the cradle gave
way. The Kolnari team leapt in fearlessly, but the lifter
failed in a burst of sparks and boomed hollowly to the
deck plates. The fabricate^ slewed out of the broken
cradle and onto the bent legs of the crew chief as she
heaved back at the weight ten times her own.

The pirate alarms rang like angry windchimes. Chan-
na and the others froze. So did the damaged tech. The
other Kolnari lifted the damaged fabricator and set it
down on a pad of packing-fiber nearby; lifting with
unison grunt of effort and walking six steps with a low-
voiced chant. They set the machine down with a
mother's tender care. The tech lay with the broken bones
projecting through the dark skin of her kneecaps, blood
welling around them and the whites showing aU around
her honey-colored eyes. The flying guns swooped in.
Channa found herself looking down the business end of
one, and so did each of the group that had brought the
ruined machine to the edge of the Kolnari line.

Warriors followed; not the armored specialists, but
crew on rotation duty. One was pulling a powered
whip from his belt as he came. Channa dosed her eyes,
but the first stroke never landed. She heard his voice
murmur the Kolnari equivalent of, "Yes, sir."

She opened her eyes again. Amos and Joseph
were rocking back on their heels as if they'd been
ready to spring.

"Hequewdthebigboss," Simeon ghost-spoke through her
implant. "Bela^stel^hmtockeckthern^ctionrecords.''

The Kolnari did, snapping away her notescreen,
then going over to check the injured technician.
Nobody had attended to her. Despite her being an
enemy, Channa felt a little squeamish looking at the
white splinters and the quivers of pain that ran across
the fine-boned oval lace.

356

Ame McCaffrey fe? SM. Stirling

"She's saying it mas a regulation medium-heavy Ufter, when
she looked it over," he said. "He's checking. Belazir says it's not
your fault."

Sweat was running down Channa's back. She began
to relax, then swore under her brej£h as the warrior
drew a knife. The technician closed her eyes and tilted
her head; a quick stab in the back of the neck and she
was still.

"Well, that worked," she said to Simeon.

"What do you mean ? "*

'Tm not quite sure."

The fabricator would have to go back to the
machine-shop, two levels up, to be repaired. The
machines required to produce replacements for the
damaged parts could not be disassembled until the
work was done.

Belazir moved a squadron of light cruisers to a new
quadrant and sat back. So, he thought.

Amazing. Channahap was fighting him to a standstill
in this strategy game. She had actually won one of the
earlier rounds. A very, very good player; few Kolnari
senior officers could have done better, and war-game
tournaments were one of the main ways they filled
their leisure.

"The Channahap does well?" Serig said. He looked
over his commander's shoulder into the Bride's display
tank, then reran the opening moves on a smaller
screen nearby. "Well, indeed."

Belazir nodded. What a woman! he thought
enthusiastically. He had stopped referring to her as
scumvermin to himself some time ago. The battle of
delay and lies she had waged against him was just as skill-
ful and tricky as the war games. It was a true pity she was
not of the Divine Seed; an even greater pity that she
would not live very many years in the environment of the
Clan's ships. Outsiders rarely found the air, food, and

r.

THE Cny WHO FOUGHT

357

water of Kolnar life-supporting. Certainly the Kolnari's
own ancestors had not, until they adapted.

But I vritt enjoy her greatly while she lives.

"Now, these reports," he went on to Serig. "They read
like the ravings of the insane. What do they mean?"

"An excellent question, my lord. One that I should
like to ask some of these scumvermin."

"You consider this to be the result of enemy action?"

"It seems reasonable to me, my lord. Drugs to the
troops affected. Or, they may know something about
these phenomena."

Belazir considered his second. "Or they may know
nothing. It could even be some sabotage scheme of
Aragiz, difficult though that is to believe. Or a side-effect
of this... illness."

"Bad for morale either way, my lord. And the illness
itself may be a weapon."

He nodded. "Very well. Take five slaves, chosen at
random, none critical to the station's function, and tor-
ture them."

"Only five, my lord?" Serig's soft voice expressed
astonishment.

"These are an unusually soft and sensitive people,"
Belazir answered. "Five will be quite sufficient More
would cause panic. For now, let the scumvermin as a
whole remain calm and complacent and cooperative.
Let them panic later at a time of our choosing. Hmm?
Torture the 6ve for the information we need on this Ñ
phenomenon. If they know nothing, take others."

"Shall I broadcast that?"

"No, no, Serig. If we broadcast our ignorance, we
make plain that there is something our warriors fear. If
it is enemy action, they will know what we seek Ñ or
the next five."

Serig bowed from the waist. "Very good, my lord."

Belazir returned his attention to the game.

***

358

AmuMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

"Why?" Channa asked.

"You will take your hands from my desk and you will
stand straight," Bdazir told her calmly, pointing a slender
dagger at her. He stared at Channa until she complied.

"Two of those people are probjlbly going to die," she
whispered, breathing hard. "Lord and God. They
were tortured"	^!

"Of course they were. I ordered it so."

"ButaAp?"

He stood and walked slowly around the desk to
stand dose behind her, then spoke softly into her ear.
"We are conquerors. We do not explain our actions.
This is not a game such as we play in your quarters,
lovely Channa, this is reality."

She carefully folded her hands before her and
lowered her eyes.

"I apologize for my impetuousness," she said hum-
bly. "I was trained to take my duties seriously, and
sometimes this makes me rash. It's why I must ask
about this terrible matter. I can't believe that you enjoy
doing such things." She looked at him appealingly over
her shoulder. "Please don't hurt my people."

"And you lie so badly," he said. He studied her face
for a moment. "My troops," he went on thoughtfully,
"spoke of'things' flickering at the corners of their eyes,
of Voices' murmuring things not quite heard."

"What has that got to do with us?"

He walked around her and sat on a corner of his
desk. "Perhaps nothing, perhaps everything. That is
what we wanted to know."

"And it never occurred to you that perhaps something
in the mixture of gases that we breath might cause this
effect in your people? Or that these 'things' flickeringjust
out of sight might be an infestation of insects..."

"Oh no, they were, according to the reports, much
too large to be mere insects."

"Some other vermin, then."

THE cnr WHO FOUGHT

359

"Doubtful."

"Well, what about my first suggestion, perhaps our
atmosphere requires adjustment?"

"Possible."

"Then perhaps you qpuld send some volunteers to
our medical center for tests."

Belazir laughed. "No. We know that a virus is loose.
However, we have no interest in a cure for it. If it causes
troops to become nonfunctional, we will kill them our-
selves. Unless it endangers this mission, we will take no
countermeasures."

Channa gaped for a moment.

"We did not become the Divine Seed," he continued,
"by pampering weakness. After in-vesting so much
capital and time in training, it is, however, inconvenient
to have adults die. When we return, we will spread the
virus ourselves, quite deliberately, among the children
of the High Clan. If this sickness is your doing, you do
us a service Ñ as do those who ambush our troops in
the corridors. It reduces the ranks of imperfect Seeds."

"Ah, she is magnificent," he quoted softly to himself
in his own language. "Her stride is the lightning strik-
ing. In her right hand is a sword of flame, in her left
the goad of pain. Her voice is the shriek of the north
wind. In her eyes flash comets, portents of wonder,
and her hair is a storm at midnight. Between her
thighs is the road to Paradise. I look upon her and my
strength rises, yet I rage without fulfillment." He
leaned closer and Channa could feel his breath on
her lips.

Well, Simeon thought, that last bit rather neatly sums up
my relationship with Charma. He relayed a running trans-
lation.

"You've made a real conquest, Happy."

"ThatÑisÑnot Ñfunny" Channa subvocalized.

The Kolnari touched her lighdy with the point of
the dagger, then returned to his chair, leaving her

360

Anne McCaffrey fc? 5JVf. Stirling

shivering where she stood. He touched his tongue
to the bead of blood on the steel.

"Perhaps," Belazir said, his voice amused, "I should
take you with me when we go. I would give you some-
thing to fight besides boredcgn. You deserve the
challenge." Then he smiled. "You may go."

Channa turned and walked away on shaking legs.
When she was in the elevator, she vented her frustra-
tion in a savage tone.

"I really want to kill him, Simeon. I can see myself
doing it, just what I would do, and I think I would
enjoy it." She paused. "See how bad company corrupts
my morals?"

"What did you think of that poem?"

"I wasn't listening."

"I think he was trying to flatter you."

" 'Her voice is like the shrieking of the north wind1?"

"I thought you weren't listening?"

"Well, I caughti/wi." She laughed weakly. "Never tel
a woman her voice reminds you of something shriek-
ing. It won't win you any points."

"Important dating dp, Channa, thank you."

"Oh... I love you, Simeon. You keep me sane. And
the Prince of Darkness can Ñ"

"Ñ eat shit and die." / love you too, Channa, and you
drive me crazy.

* CHAFrtRTWENTY-ONE

Another point of light flared in the holo tank.

"You have destroyed my dreadnought," Belazir said,
surprise and amusement in his voice. He looked up at
Channa. She was sweating heavily, strings of black hair
plastered to her forehead. The Kolnari was calm as
ever as he took another draught of the sparkling water
flavored with metal salts.

"That makes ..." He paused to recollect. "Seventy-
five wins for me and three for you. Ah, well." He
dapped his hands, and attendants brought his equip-
ment. "Enough pleasure; there is work to be done."

"Okay, people," Simeon said. The voices died down.
"We've got a little time. You-know-who's sleeping the
sleep of the wicked."

The screens went silent, and so did the litde dutch of
men and women seated around the lounge table.

"They're going to be more or less finished in one
more day-cycle," he went on.

"One?" Amos said. "They have more items marked
for shipping than they could handle in one day."

"Trust me. I've been eavesdropping. They're doing
that to fool us. Nearly fooled me! Only their top people
know."

"How long has it been?" Patsy whispered.

"Sixteen days," Simeon said.

Doctor Chaundra swallowed. "A hundred dead.
Many times that are ... injured, in various ways. We
cannot endure more of this."

362

Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. Stating

"We won't have to. One more day, and we're saved
or we're all dead."

"Hie Navy?" Joseph said.

"They dropped a scout into the system today,"
Simeon replied. His image raised a hand to stem die
babble. "It's heavily stealthed. I have the recognition
codes, or I'd never have detected it. Yes, the flotilla is
coming.

"They should be here, and soon. However, we've got
to have a plan for the worst case.** He paused before he
could go on. "The worst case is the Navy doesn't get
here quite in time. We've got to give it our best shot.
The Kolnari've got a lot of their people spread out, and
their ships docked. They're planning on keeping it that
way until the last minute. I've figured out a few
indicators that'll tell me right down to the minute."

Channa swallowed and nodded. One of them would
be Belazir coining to take her off to the Dreadful Bride.

"The battle platform will undock first. When they
start that, we've got to begin our uprising! If we can cut
enough of them ofFfrom their ships and keep the ships
from undocking Ñ I've got some plans on that tactic Ñ¥
then they can't blow the station."

Amos nodded somberly. "The cost... the cost in lives
will be very high. But there is no alternative."

"We cannot fight for long," Joseph said. "A delaying
action at best. They have the weapons, armor,
organization. And they need not fear damage to the
station. They will use their onwatch ships to force-dock
through the hull, outflank us. We have no real
weapons."

"How many times have we gamed the uprising?"
Amos said, rubbing his hand across his face. "Forty,
fifty? Not once have we won, no matter if you or I
command."

Simeon nodded. "Better to die on your feet than die
on your knees," he said. Grim smiles greeted the sally.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

363

Most of them had seen his tapes of the Warsaw Ghetto.
"I can disorganize them a lot more than they expect,"
he went on. "We've got some weapons, too."

They all looked at the column.

"Mikesun?" he said. .

The section repcwas haggard and drawn, as you
would expect from someone who had been working in
cramped quarters for more than two weeks.

"I've got them unpacked and ready," he said. His
hands moved into the light. "'Bout a thousand. Plus
the explosives you told us to get ready."

Suddenly he had a needier in his hands. A huge
chunky-looking thing, of no make any of them recog-
nized.

"Where on ... where did you get those, Simeon?**
Channa asked.

"Ah, um." Simeon sounded slightly embarrassed,
she thought. "Well, you know how 1 like to collect stufE
They were cheap Ñ a ship needed some fuel bad and
didn't have credit. And I just liked the thought of
having my own arsenal. 'Someday we might need this
kind of stuff.' I was right, wasn't I?"

"Yes, bless you," she said simply, because the relief
she felt at seeing honest-to-God weapons was so
intense.

Somebody swore. "Why haven't we had those before
now? I've had my people attacking Kolnari patrols
with their bare hands Ñ"

"Because we couldn't let them take us seriously too
soon!" Channa said sharply. "Any sort of formal
weaponry would have alerted them. We had to do as
much damage as we could without such assists, until
the last moment. They won't be expecting us to have
needlers. We'll have surprise and shock on our side."

Amos leaned forward, more warmth in his tone than
was usual when he spoke to the brain." How are they to
be distributed?"

364

Amu McCaffrey &? SJVf. Stirling

"Remember when I said I'd put some other stuff that
might be useful in the sealed-off sections? And Patsy
and Joat've been mixing stuff around, too, through the
passageways."

"With a thousand needlers -3-" Amos began, and
then shrugged, oddly hopeless. Joseph nodded.

"Hmm. What make are those?" Patsy said, with a
spark of her old interest

"Ursinar manufacture," Simeon said. "Obscure
race, big and hairy, always insisted that it was their right
to arm bears."	*¥'

"This may only prolong the agony and delay the
inevitable," Amos said. "So little against so much."
Then he shook himself. "Still, it is better to die fight-
ing."

"Hell, better to win and live," Simeon said.

"In the meantime," Amos said, standing and sweep-
ing his eyes from screen to screen, "push them hard.
They are incapable of resisting a territorial challenge
from a weaker opponent Ñ even when it would be
logical to pull back. Take more risks."

Well, he takes as many as the rest of us do, Channa
thought. Quite the little commander all the same. Wry
amusement colored her exhaustion.

"Security monitor's locked," Joat said. "Now, your bit"

Seld went to the electronics access panel and began
fiddling with its innards. Then he inserted the hedron
he had prepared. The resulting picture would be dis-
torted in the way the security computers had been
since the pirate worm program went in. But they would
distort the images of Joat and Seld in selective ways.
Making them appear taller, much darker...

Joat went in die opposite direction, placing herself at
the end of the corridor in the lookout's position.

When he had finished he joined her and tapped her
shoulder. "Time," he whispered.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

365

¥Just a sec." She opened her pack and withdrew a
monocrystal filament dispenser. The thread was a
molecule in diameter but incredibly strong. Dangerous
to handle, too. Thinner than the thinnest knife-blade
could ever be.

"What are you gonna do with that?" he asked puz-
zled. "I thought you were planting something."

"Stick around and you'll see," she said, waggling her
eyebrows.

She knelt beside the wall and attached an end of the
beryllium monocrystal filament to the corridor panel at
about knee height Using the tiny laser that was part of
the dispenser, the end was soldered into place, leaving
a slight stickiness when she touched the wall. She
reeled out the invisible fiber and tacked the other end
to the opposite wall, keeping a careful mental image of
where it was.

Seld turned pale. "You can't... you know what that
stuff does!"

"Sure do," she said smugly. "Ol1 Jack-of-All-Trades is
gonna give new meaning to 'cut off at the knees.' *

"You can't," he said, and grabbed her arm. "They're
bastards, but they're... they're sentients. You can't be
maiming them like that." His voice had taken on a
tinge of his father's accent again, but he was shaking
with tension. Drops of sweat broke out at the edge of
his reddish-brown hair. "It's evil! What are you think-
ing about?"

She snatched her arm from his grip. "I'm thinking
about what they did. Tortured people. What they did to
Patsy, and your friend Juke. I'm thinking about
payback."

He licked his lips. "Not like this, I won't have any-
thing to do with it Couldn't you just... kill them clean?
C'mon,Joat?"

She pushed him back with her shoulder and tacked
another line through at about waist height for a taD adult

366

Anne McCaffny fc? SM. Stirling

"Sim says," she went on, drawing three more lines
about shin-height, "that cutting the enemy up is better
than killin' 'em. Shakes them up more, and they gotta
take care of them."

"If we do stuff like this, how are we different from
them?"

She turned on him, snarling. '"Cause we live here and
we're not doing this forfunl Or to make a nardy credit
offit!"

Seld sat down abruptly against the corridor wall.

"Seld?" she said, her fage smoothing out abruptly
and her voice changing. "Seld, you okay? You need
your meds?"

"I'm okay. I just. .. I just don't like you as much
when you're like this, Joat. And I really like you. You
know?"

Sometimes I don't like me much, Joat thought. She
turned away and blew out her lips in exasperation.
"Don't go buckawbuckaw on me now, Seld, 'cause it's
gonna get worse around here before it gets better. If it
gets better." Everything always gets worse.

He raised his head from his knees. "If I'm going to
die soon I want to die clean," he said. "Gimme your
V-pills."

"Why?"

"Lost mine."

"Okay." They were supposed to take the pill if they
came into contact with a Kolnari. Joat didn't intend to,
or to live if she did. Seld pocketed the pills and stalked
off toward his own escape route.

She pursed her lips and tacked a new line to the wall
at the opening of the connecting corridor, at what she
estimated as head-height for a Kolnari.

Then she ducked under it by a wide margin, tip-toed
back toward the first line. She stopped well short of it
and listened.

Come on, you gruntfudders, she thought. Rzrdling move.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

367

They should be amazed that it was taking the first patrol
so long to respond. She went to stand by the sabotaged
panel and listened, hearing only the pounding of her
own heart, which felt as if it wanted to tear free ofher thin
chest. Then at last, her quick ears caught the sound of
movement. She counted to five and began to retreat
toward the second line. She entered the corridor just as
she heard a shouted "Halt!" in KolnarL

Perfect, she thought, all they saw was the coveraW They
hadn't said halt, scumvermin, either.

A couple of shots were fired; light weapons, needles
spanging off metal. The squad leader barked an order
for cease fire and pursuit. Feet tapped the mesh cover-
ing of the corridor, in the distinctive long strides of the
pirates.

Screams rang down the corridor, clanging and echo-
ing in the dose space. Joat leaned forward from where
she crouched and looked out around the corner. There
was a malicious grin on her face, but it died at what she
saw. Two of the Kolnari soldiers lay on the floor in a small
pond of blood, hanging over the ultrastrong invisible
wire that had sawn through their legs and opened them
up from navel to backbone like a butterflied shrimp. As
she watched, a body fell to the ground in two pieces, and
there was so much, so much blood and guts and all the
colors, and a pink-purple lung...

One Kolnari trooper reached toward her severed
legs and cut her hand in half to the wrist. Two fingers
flopped uselessly as she clutched her arm and
screamed and screamed, not in pain or fear but sheer
terror of the invisible something that had killed her.

"Oh, multi grudly," Joat whispered to herself. The
sound of the words against what she saw was so out of
place that she felt hysterical giggles bubbling up.
Something warned her that that sort of giggling would
be very difficult to stop once it started, so she backed
away. Her eyes were huge saucers in her thin pale face.

368

Anne McCaffwy &SM. Strrimg

At the other end of Joat's corridor was one of
Simeon's hidden elevators. She tossed the wire spool
out into the corridor before she entered it. Behind her
there were shouts: the next enemy squad. From the
ringing sounds, they tested to find the wires with the
barrels of their weapons. There was a double thud as
one unwary Kolnari turned too iast into the corridor
and decapitated himself on the final trap.

Moving briskly, Joat exited the elevator three levels
up and entered an access corridor meant for electrical
repairs. She transferred tcÈone of the small ventilation
shafts and dragged herself quickly and efficiently to a
larger open area where an array of the shafts met. She
was safe here: it was one of her bases, with a pallet and
some ration boxes as well as tools pilfered from
Engineering, if you could call it pilfering when they
handed them to you willingly. They were calling Joat
the "Spirit of SSS-900-C," or Simeon's Gremlin.

Then she was violendy sick to her stomach. Servos
arrived, clicking and cheeping to themselves, and
cleaned up the mess.

Joat lay down, cradling her face on her arms, and
wept bitterly. Long wracking sobs, like nothing she
could remember.

'Joat... honey, have you been hurt?" Simeon's voice
was soft and warm, like a vaguely remembered some-
thing that once held her.

She lifted a face flushed with weeping, but her lips
were white.

"I'm not as tough as I thought," she said through her
sobs. "I didn't think ... Shit, no! I've gotta heart like a
rock. That's me, Joat the killer! Did you hear me snanc-
ing Seld for a wuss?" A cough racked her, and she
wiped her eyes on the back of her hands. "He'll hate
me! I hate myself! It was so Ñ" And she threw herself
down and bit the mattress. An eerie crooning wail
echoed through the corridor.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

369

"Shhh, it's all right, it's all right."

"I wanna go home!"

"Joat. Joat, honey. I'm with you. You are home.
You'll always have a home with me. / don't hate you,
Joat. You're not bad, honey. But sometimes things get
through to the good part of you that doesn't like the
tough part of you, and that's what just happened."

The servos rolled forward and tucked a blanket
around her. Simeon began to croon, directing it at her
ears where she hugged the blanket about her head and
only tufts of hair escaped.

"IwantCharma"

I can't hold her, Simeon thought But I can smg....

"Do you call me liar to my face, Aragiz?" Belazir said.

"My people were killed," Aragiz t'Varak replied.
"Security recorded Kolnari setting the trap, perhaps
thinking to throw the blame on scumvermin. I knew
scumvermin could notÑ"

"Do you give me the lie, t'Varak?"

The other captain stopped, torn between unwilling-
ness to retract and inability to attack. Belazir was under
no such constraints.

"Did it never occur to you, oh so straightforward
cousin, that it might be scumvermin posing as Clan?
That they are as capable of playing on our divisions as
we are on theirs?"

"You call me dupe of scumvermin?"

"I say that you bare me, Lord Captain Aragiz t'Varak.
You bore me beyond words, beyond bearing. Your
existence makes die universe a place of tedium beyond
belief!"

Aragiz's face relaxed, into a soft, welcoming smile.
"When?"

"When Lord Captain Pol t'Veng's judgement is ful-
filled. To the fist" Adeath-duel in die old manner, with
spiked steel gloves.

370

Anne McCaffrey W SM. Sorting

"And now," Belazir went on, "get your household
and all else to your ship." Quick suspicion marked the
other captain's face. "Yes, 1 know you were massing
your groundfighters. There is no time for feud here,
t'^rak. Believe me."	È

The screen blanked. Serig took a step forward, an
eyebrow raised.	,

"Lord, he is the dolt you named rum. There is noth-
ing wrong with his reflexes, though."

"As it may be," Belazir said. "I spoke the truth. It
drives me to fury to have to call that one cousin, it truly
does." He shook his head. Today, we triumph, Serig.
By running, yes: but triumph nonetheless. So, we Ñ"

The dockside guards' chimes rang through the
bridge. "Great Lord, we have a scumvermin female,
claiming to have information for you."

Serig chuckled. There had been a fair number of
scumvermin females coming to the dock and asking for
Belazir. Some few he had taken himself, and passed the
others on to Serig or the crew.

"No, wait," Belazir said. "Information of what?"

"A conspiracy, involving the scumvermin leaders-
that-were and die prey-ship, lord."

"Send her up." Belazir looked at Serig and
shrugged. "Why not?"

Waiting was swift. "I would speak with you alone,
Master," the woman said, looking meaningfully at
Serig.

"I am generous to women," Belazir declared. Quite
true, or she would never have reached him. "So
generous I did not hear you, scumvermin."

She blinked and swallowed hard, looking from one
to the other.

"Why have you come?"

"The... they held me prisoner, Master and Gggg Ñ"
Even then, she could not quite bring herself to utter the
blasphemy. Then Belazir looked up at her, and she felt

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

371

herself huddle down behind the barrier of her skull,
knowing it was not enough. So a sicatooth looked at a

lamb.

"Ñ God," she completed, uncertain if it was the
obscene honorific they demanded or a prayer, "I... I
have information." She sfemmered, put a hand to her
face. / escaped, she thought They must be really conspir-
ing against her Ñ against Amos, as well. Holding her
from him. She whimpered slightly. She could remember
his words of love, the promises Ñ and nightmares of
rejection, of failure. The brass-colored eyes were waiting.

"I am Rachel bint Damscus. I am from Bethel. I was
on the ship that you were chasing. Forty of us survived
the journey and took refuge on this station."

Neither of the Kolnari moved or spoke.

"So ... you are from Bethel?" Belazir leaned his
head on his fist. One finger caressed his lower lip.
"Turn your head. Stand. Bend. Sit once more."

Belazir turned to Serig. "Possible," he said medita-
tively. "Similar scumvermin race, but there are many
varieties here."

"Unlikely, lord."

Belazir nodded. And in any case academic. They
were nearly ready to go. If they have deceived us, what mat-
ter'? The memory of his slap in the face of the Bride's
joss came back to him. Perhaps the old customs had
some real strength after all....

She stared at him. There was something odd about
her eyes, Belazir decided. Her lips trembled, and her
fingers, but not in terror; he could always identify that.
Some nerve disorder, perhaps? He leaned forward and
snuffed. Not a healthy scent.

"Yes." She nodded once, sharply. "Master and God."

"Why do you tell me this? Surely you know that it is
dangerous?"

The woman began to tremble with rage, and tears
filled her eyes.

372

Amu McCaffrey fcf S. M. Starting

"She ... that black-haired, black-hearted whore
seduced my betrothed! She promised him power! But
she lied. He plays the fool for her, does what she tells
him, sleeps in her bed ..." Her voice broke and she
stopped, swallowed a few times before she could speak
again. "Hie one you have been told is Simeon-Amos is
truly Amos, the leader who brought us here from
Bethel. The real Simeon is a shellperson, a thing they
call a brain, and he is still running this station."

"A... shellperson?" Belazir t'Marid dosed his eyes
for a moment "Ah! We have heard, but never seen."

Serig leaned down to him. "Lord, a sort of protein
computer, no? But our worm subverted their system
and holds it in our fist Would we not have known?"

"It would explain anomalies," Belazir said, chasing
the elements that made him believe the impossible
"And Ñ ah! I am as great a fool as Aragiz t'Varak!"

"Surely not, lord," Serig said, surprised. "Not on
your worst day. Not on my worst day. Not on the worst
day of this scumvermin womb here."

"I was about to dismiss this, time being short Dismiss
potentially the richest single piece of loot on the
station!"

"A shellperson is so much?"

"A strategic asset," Belazir said. "Come, we will look
into this. It is time, in any case."

He turned his eyes back to the scumvermin. From all
he could see, she was manic-depressive, swinging from
healthy, normal terror to an exalted state where she
had complete confidence in his interest, in his support
As if he were a player in her play...

"Mad," he said. "Yet... My vanity, perhaps, but little
Channahap plays the war game far too well. An
encysted brain, tied to great computers and their data
banks, though?" He cocked an eyebrow at Rachel.

"I can only tell you what I have heard," the woman
said, babbling in her desire to be believed. "I have been

ir

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

373

told that they are people who have been put into a
casing as infants and that they then become like a com-
puter." She wrung her hands and looked desperately
from one to the other. "I'm telling you the truth. They
are plotting against you. Master and God!"

Belazir smiled ii\poflte agreement "Of course they
are." On that, at least, they were agreed. He rose.
"Come, we will go and talk to them." He turned to
Serig. "Have Baila tell Channahap that I will see her in
her office. Tell her to have Simeon-Amos there as well."

Simeon spoke, interrupting Channa at her work sta-
tion. "Channa, Belazir t'Bastard is heading this way
with Rachel in tow. I don't know what's up, but he's
looking both grim and pleased."

Before Channa could speak, the comm chimed and
Baila's face appeared.

"Channahap," she said. "The Lord Captain t'Marid
is on his way to your office. You will await him there.
He commands the presence of Simeon-Amos. Obey."
The screen went dark.

"Shit" Channa said, and tapped her fingers
thoughtfully. "You're right, Simeon, this does not look
good. I am so sick of that girl. She's driving me... crazy.
Simeon?"

"You're right on the button about her state of mind,
Channa. Our Rachel's crazy, not just going crazy but
absolutely nuts, gonzo, a sandwich shy of a picnic,
packin' a short seabag..."

"Sim!"

"Right, I'll have Chaundra draw up a case history
about some kind of dementia. You brief Simeon-Amos,
111 spread the word."

"You got it. Simeon-Amos," she said over the inter-
com, "get in here."

"And Channa?"

"Yes?"

374

Ame McCaffny fc? SM. Stirling

"I think this is it. The battle platform just started
severing its stationside power leads. We've got a real
opportunity to hurt them hard if we can get Belazir out
of comm with his people. It could make the difference."

Channa nodded. She had bedn prepared to try an
assassination on the Bride, but that, at best, was
unlikely. Fear was remote: no time for it

"Simeon-Amos," she began, when he entered the
lounge. "Belazir's coming, with Rachel." His face froze.
"Here's what we're going to do Ñ no time for an
argument-"

The crates made gentle plopping noises as they slid
out of the meter-deep green water of the algae pools
and stood dripping on the slotted metal of the
walkways. Ships had a closed system of tubing and
enclosed tanks, but this arrangement Ñ open metal
rectangles stacked like trays Ñ was more efficient for a
station. The environment systems workers moved
quickly, without wasted effort or much talking. This
had not been a cheerful section since their chief
returned to them, but there was a stolid satisfection as
the vac-covers were peeled back and the weapons went
from hand to hand among the hundred or so tech-
nicians, office workers, and laborers.

Patsy Sue Coburn watched the needlers emerge,
brutal and compact. She slung one over her shoulder.
Ursinid weapons were submachinegun size for
humans. Then she reached into the pool and retrieved
her arc pistol, stripping off the plastic film.

"Wait for it," she whispered. If the Kolnari made one
last swing through on their usual routes, they'd be by
in half an hour or so.

The crew were crowding around the supervisors,
getting a quick lesson on how to use a needier to best
effect. Luckily, the weapons had simple controls: set the
dial on the side to the full clockwise position and take

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

375

up the trigger slack. Look down the barrel at the target
and pull the trigger. Line of sight weapons with little
recoil at short ranges, they should do well enough.

And they're all we've got, she reminded herself. She felt
completely calm. In a way, she had been calm since she
woke and saw Joan's face floating before her, like a
ghost's in its pool of light. There was a feeling under
that, a feeling that when she wasn't calm anymore, it
was going to be very, very bad.

"Reckon I kin wait fer it," she told herself.

The others were looking at her.

'Just wait 'n till they come around," she said patiendy
for the hundredth time. "Simeon'11 keep us all in touch."
I hope, /purely do. "Now, when they git here, you burn 'em
down. Then go down axial G-8 an' hit the bunch of'em
there. ArnosTl be by about then. If not him, then me."

She nodded curtly and slung the needier further
around to her back, freeing her hands for the climb up
the interval ladder. The entrance to the venting system
was where she would rendezvous with JoaL Not a dif-
ficult climb at first, since these were the biggest vents on
the station. The circle effaces fell away below her,
growing tiny amid the rectangular Escher shapes of
the ponds and the huge color-coded maze of pipes for
nutrient and water and waste.

Amos stood impassively behind Channa, hands
clasped at his back. They dropped to a knee as Belazir
entered. He took the seat before her desk, gestured to
Channa to sit. The squad of soldiers began to crowd
into the small office. The t'Marid snapped out an order
in his own language and all but two of them withdrew.

Rachel stood beside his chair. She glared at Channa
and then turned away, her fists clenched by her sides.
To Amos she smiled tremulously.

Definitely, as Sim would say, a few cans short of a sixpack,
Channa decided. She looks as if she's rescuing Am.

376

ArmeMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

Channa folded her hands in her lap. "Master and
God, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

Belazir smiled and indicated Rachel with his hand. "I
have been given some interesting information.*'

"1 have told him everything!" Rachel said spitefully.

Channa and Amos regarded her blankly, then shook
their heads and turned to Belazir.; ;

"Everything?" Channa asked.

"She has told me that she and forty others survived
the trip from Bethel, and that this man," he flicked his
chin at Amos, "is her betrothed. She tells me that he is
pretending to be Simeon and that the real Simeon is in
feet a brain in a container or some such thing, who is
running this station and the resistance to the High
Clan."

He folded his hands and regarded her calmly. "This
truth would solve certain difficulties,

Channa fought not to smile, making her eyes wide
with disbelief. Belazir studied her closely. Amusement
was not what he had anticipated.

"Simeon-Amos," she said at last, "please inform Doc-
tor Chaundra that Rachel has been found and ask him
to come and fetch her. Advise him that he may need
some form of chemical restraint."

Belazir raised an eyebrow.

Channa looked to the t'Marid for permission for
Amos to comply. Belazir flicked his fingers. Amos
nodded and went into his own office to make the call.

"She lies yet again, lord," Rachel said, but she fell
silent at a second flick of Belazir's hand.

Channa assumed an understanding expression.
"This young woman is deranged. We don't restrain her
because usually she is harmless and so are her fan-
tasies. A tragic case, very resistant to psychotherapy."

"Foul whore Ñ" Rachel began, urgently stepping
forward.

Belazir made a chopping motion with his hand. A

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

377

jruard stepped forward and Rachel shut her mouth
with an audible snap.

"Who is she, then?" he asked.

"We don't actually know," Channa said. "She was
abandoned here, apnarendy by some transient mer-
chanter. She had no I.D. No one came forward with any
information about her. The doctor isn't sure if her
insanity is the result of drugs or trauma. He says the only
way to be one hundred percent sure is to do an autopsy,
which obviously is out or the question. She's usually very
sweet, at worst a mild nuisance. Perhaps the condi-
tions ..." and Channa made a vague motion with her
hand to suggest that the occupation might have added to
her instability. Channa made herselflean back casually in
her chair, appearing at ease. "Perhaps it's a sign of
progress that she is this aware of, ah, current events,
Master and God. She must have concocted this fentasy
about Bethel from the newstapes, for example."

Rachel exploded. "She lies!" She lunged for Chan-
na, coming up with a jerk when the guard pulled her
back by her long hair. Her gorgon's mask of rage did
not even register the pain. She struggled briefly and
then subsided as Amos came back into the room.
"Amos," she pleaded, weeping, "help me!"

He looked at her with sympathy.

"Of course, I will help you, Rachel," he said. His
mellow voice rang with sincerity. "We all wish to help
you." He leaned close to Channa. "The doctor is on his
way, Ms. Hap."

"No!" Rachel screamed. "No! How can you do this to
me? She is using you, my love! Do not betray me!
Please ..." Tears began to leak down her long nose.
"Please... please."

Channa's stomach twisted. She is crazy. Probably
curably crazyÑmost were. Irritation faded before pity,
and pity faded before the threat of the Kolnari putting
any weight into Rachel's tale.

378

Amu McCaffrty 6? SM. StirUng

Amos' sympathy was achingly real

"There, there," he said soothingly. "You are ill,
Rachel. Daddy will call the doctor to make it right" He
offered the rag doll he was carrying. "You can have
Siminta with you." He pressed it infc> her hands.

For a moment Rachel's sobs stopped and she stared
at him in confusion. "What?" she: said. "You are my
betrothed, not myfatherl" She looked down at the doU,
then dashed it to the floor and stamped her foot "Stop
mocking me!"

Amos shifted uneasily. %cannot keep up with this.
May I be excused until Doctor Chaundra comes?"

"It might be best," Chaima said, addressing Belazir.

The t'Marid's eyes flicked over the three of them.
"Daddy?" he said dubiously, then quirked an involun-
tary smile.

Channa sighed. "Last week, she thought she was five
years old and Simeon-Amos was her father. She would
start to cry if he left the room. For some reason, she's
totally fixated on him. Chaundra supposes that he
resembles whoever dropped her on us. We don't
know."

"Lies!" Rachel shrieked. "Lies."

"The doctor should be here by now," Amos said,
clearly uncomfortable. He picked up the doll and
placed it carefully on a chair. "Ah ... she will grieve
later if it isn't there."

"You may go," Belazir said to him. His eyes never left
Channa's.

Chaundra strode in. He walked over to the weeping
girl and touched her shoulder gently. "Poor Rachel,"
he said soothingly, "poor little girl."

"Doctor," t'Marid said sharply. Chaundra turned
and stood very straight, looking down. "This is your
patient?"

"Yes, Master and God."

"I do not appreciate having my time wasted on the

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

379

daydreams of this madwoman. If she is so much as seen
again Ñ no, no point. You may go. Wait You have
records of her illness? I want to see them."

"Yes, Master and God, but I can't access them from
this computer. Medical records are on a dosed system
to protect the privacy Sf the patient"

Belazir made an impatient, dismissive gesture.
"Serig," he said. "See to it then back to the Bride, con-
tinue on the matter we were planning. I will join you
shortly." Serig bowed deeply.

"At your command, lord," he said, his teeth showing
slightly in cold amusement "The doll, too?"

Belazir snorted. "Go, insolence.

Rachel took a deep breath and seemed to fight for
dignity; the twitching lessened in her face. "They are
lying, Master and God, you will see. I am telling the
truth."

That ended in a squawk as Serig turned her about
and pushed between her shoulderblades. She ran to
avoid felling, and the door hissed open before her.

"Now," Belazir snarled. Chaundra followed.

In the strained silence that followed, Belazir and
Channa studied each other.

At last Belazir spoke. "Have your man return."

Channa pressed the intercom button, "Simeon-
Amos, would you come in here, please?"

"This Rachel is in love with you," t'Marid observed, a
hint of laughter in the yellow eyes.

"I confess," Amos said bitterly, "that I am beginning
to despise the very sight of her."

The Kolnari raised an eyebrow.

"One day," Channa informed him, "she became con-
vinced that Simeon-Amos was God and went around
the station trying to convert people to worshipping
him. She's been a very difficult experience for all of us,
but she's been a particular strain on Simeon-Amos."

"Simeon-Amos," Belazir said, "is rather obviously

380

Aime McCaffrey 6f 5M. Stating

the victim of a similar fixation on you, Channahap. A
strong reason to believe your tale."

"Yes, Master and God," Channa said. She dosed her
eyes. Simeon? she asked.

"He's halfway convinced, but still wyndering. Impatient.
Channa, it's starting. No more than twenty minutes until the
pirates'sound alarm."	_¥

She opened her eyes again. "Simeon-Amos," she
said. "Why don't you go see to the primary ware-
housing?"

He hesitated for a long second. "As you wish."

Now, Simeon commanded.

The worm raised its head from the ruins of the
castle, looking out across a plain of volcanic fumaroles
and blue-glowing lava. Flights of tongue-wasps
patrolled there and arcs of lightning jagged over crater
and canyon in patterned displays.

Thunder rumbled, A barking broke loose, louder
than the thunder, and the vault of heaven split. The
worm reared up, endless, longer than time, glutted
with its feeding.

Simeon burst through and new skies sprang above
the blasted landscape. The light changed from a pitiless
white to the softer yellow of sunshine. The wasps fell,
twitched, died. Three-headed and elephant-sized, the
dog paced beside him. He raised the bat, struck.

The Grinder lunged and the concentric mouths
damped on the end of the weapon. Then it recoiled, as
the wood turned to a hoop and expanded, thrusting
the rows of teeth back. It tried to shake loose, but the
dog's three heads pinned its body to the earth. Wider
and wider the glowing green circle swelled, until the
mouths were a doorway.

A scalpel and icepick appeared in Simeon's hands. He
walked into the worm's mouths and raised the tools.

"Heeeeeeere's Sim!1* he shouted. "Openuwfe."

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

381

On the auxiliary command deck of the SSS-900-C,
the Kolnari tech was reaching for the rear casing of the
batde computer when he noticed die telltales.

"Lord!" he cried. "TheÑ"

At that instant, the se^-destruct charge built into the
base of the computer detonated. It was not much in the
way of an explosion, but much more than was required
to destroy the sensitive inner workings. The designer
had intended that to foil tampering. However, the flat-
tened disk of jagged housing was more than enough to
decapitate the pirate.

His companion reacted with tiger precision, scoop-
ing up his weapon and leaping for the doors. They
clashed shut with a snap, and the warrior rebounded
into the control chamber. It was empty save for him
and there was no other exit. He pivoted, holding down
the trigger of his plasma rifle and firing from the hip
into the consoles.

"Naughty," a voice from the air said. The vents
began to hiss. Trie Kolnari staggered at the first touch
of the gas. His last act was to strip a grenade from his
belt and trigger it, carefully held next to his own head.

"Damn," Simeon muttered. The mess was considerable
and the equipment wasn't going to be much use for a
while. Then he took the equivalent of a deep breath and
concentrated. Several dozen things must be done at once.

"Let me up," Channa said, stroking Belazir's back.

"Not for a while yet," Belazir said lazily. "I have has-
tened as it is. There is another five minutes available."
His body was dry against her sweat-slick one, but much
warmer, with the higher metabolism of his breed.

"Are we staying, then?" she breathed against his ear.

"No," he replied. "You suspected?"

"That you'd take me with you, or that today would
be the day to go? Both." She wiggled.
have to get some stuff."

382

Arms McCaffny & SM. Stating

"I shall keep you well," Belazir said, then rolled away
off her. "Be swift."

He lay idly on the sofa, watching her disappear into
the bedroom. Memorable, he decided. Starling with her
skinning out of her clothes the moment they were
alone. Anticipation is the best garnish! The Kolnari con-
sulted his interior timesense:, twenty minutes,
unusually swift. Well within the day's schedule, too. He
grinned to himself, stretching and tossing back strands
of white-blond hair. Tomorrow stretched out before
him in a road of fire and blood and gold.

"We are close to Channa's quarters?" Joseph asked.

They were leopard-crawling down the ductway; an
action that was hard for one of his shoulder-breadth.
Behind them Patsy was having less of a problem, since
much of her volume was compressible.

"Yeah ..." Joat paused. "I haven't actually been this
way, y'know. I was trying to hide from Simeon." A
pause. "We're right over the main corridor to the
elevator shaft. I think."

"I think I had better check," Joseph said, with a tight
smile. "Are you all right, Joat-my-friend?"

"Yeah." She threw a smile back at him. "Just... I got
a little shook, is all. I'm fine."

She touched the junction node and her jacker. The
membrane beneath them turned transparent.
Chaundra did not look up. Instead, he glanced behind
him, shook his head, moved on.

Joat crawled past, then froze as two more figures
came beneath. Rachel was running, but Serig caught
her easily in one hand, pushed her against the corridor
wall. She screamed, breathy and catching in her throat,
like someone awakening from one nightmare into
another.

"Don't do it, Joe, he'll kill you!" Joat cried sotto voce,
lunging for the Bethelite's belt She missed and knew it

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

383

would have done no good. Her hand could never have
deflected the solid charging weight of the man. He was
through the space and dropping to the deck before she
could finish the sentence. His knives were in his hands:
one long and thin, the other short and curved.

The Kolnari had his nand back to cuff Rachel again
as she screamed a second time, hopelessly.

"Pirate," a voice behind them said.

The warrior threw her aside as easily as he might a
sack of wool, and she thudded into the corridor watt.
The same motion turned into a whirling slash with one
bladed palm, a blow that would have cracked solid
teakwood. Joseph was not in its path, but the long knife
in his right hand was. The yellow eyes slitted in pain
and a broad streak of blood arched out to spatter
against the cream of the sidewall and flow sluggishly
down. The Clan fighter leaped back half a dozen paces,
out of reach of the blades, but also farther from the dis-
carded equipment belt. He was naked and unarmed,
and the slash in his forearm was bone-deep. He dared
not even squeeze it shut with his other hand. The raw
salt-copper smell of blood was strong as the wound
began to ooze more sluggishly. Superfast clotting
would save him... if he did not exert himself,

"Come to me, pirate," Joseph said softly. "Come, see
how we fought in Keriss, on the docks."

The Kolnari snarled and leaped to one side, flipped in
midair and bounced off the upper wall. He was a
hundred-kilo blur of muscle and bone snapping at
Joseph behind a clenched fist Huddled against the wall,
Rachel gave a whimper of despair, but Joseph was not
there anymore. Anticipating such a tactic, he had thrown
himself down on his back. Both knives were up. The
pirate jackknifed in midair, but when he rolled erect,
there were two more long slashes across his chest

His grin was a snarl of pain as he slid forward. The
long wounds were orange, the Tunneling blood a

384

Anne McCaffny fc? 5M. Stirling

shocking deep umber against his raven-black skin. He
held his arms up: one in a knuckled fist, the other open
in a stiffened blade.

"Come," Joseph whispered. Rachel blinked back to
full consciousness and the sight of his face chilled her.
"Come to me, yes, come."

The knives glinted in either hand, splashed
orangey-red now, the edges glinting in the soft
glowlight as they moved in small, precise circles.

What followed was a whirling blur. It ended with one
knife flying loose and Joseph crumpling back, curled
around his side. The other knife still shone in defiance.
The Kolnari warrior staggered and shivered for a
moment, then drew back his foot for the final blow. Rachel
flung herself forward, grasping blindly. Her arms dosed
around the poised leg. It was like gripping a tree, no, a
piece of steel machinery that hammered her aside like
some giant piston-rod. But blood loss and the unexpected
weight threw the pirate off-balance. He staggered forward
into Joseph. For a moment they stood chest-to-chest, like
embracing brothers. Long-fingered black hands clamped
down on Joseph's shoulders, ready to tear the muscles of
his bull-neck free by main force.

Then she saw die Bethelite's left arm moving. The
right hung limp, but the left was pressed against the
Kolnari's side. There was something in it. A knife-hilt,
and the blade was buried up to the guard; the curved
blade of theszca, whose density-enhanced edge would
carve steel. It slid through ribs as the pirate's killing grip
turned to a frantic push that arched him like a bow.

The two men had fought in silence, save for the
panting rasp of their breath. Now the Kolnari
screamed, as much in frustration as in final agony. The
cry dissolved in a spray of blood as the diamond-hard
sica's edge sawed open his ribcage and ground to a halt
halfway through his breastbone. He flopped to the
ground, voided, and died. Joseph wrenched his knife

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

585

free and stooped. He forced his right hand to action,
gripped the dead pirate's genitals, severed them with a
slash. Then he stuffed them into the gaping mouth of
the corpse and spat in the dead eyes, still open like
fading amber jewels.

Blood. Rachel wipeS at her mouth, suddenly con-
scious of the blooct: in her mouth, her hair, over her
body, spattered on corridor walls and ceiling, dimming
the glowstrips, more blood than she had ever imagined
could be. Joseph was coated with it, his eyes staring out
of a mask ofblood, his teeth red.

She stared at the mutilated corpse. "Serig," she said.
"His name was Serig."

"A dead dog's name dies on the dungheap," Joseph
said in a snarl. Then he turned to her and his eyes were
alive once more. He bowed, checked himself with a
sharp gasp, then completed the gesture. "My lady, are
you hurt?'1 he inquired solicitously.

His face, for once, was naked. Rachel gasped and
swayed, looking down at the body and then at the man
she had despised.

"Joseph!" she cried, clutching at his arm. "I..."
Reality whirled, splintered, as if a glass surface between
her and her thoughts had shattered. "Joseph," she said
more softly, wonderingly. "Something has happened to
me. I... I remember things that cannot be. I Ñ" she
blushed "Ñ I remember being so cruel to you, so
vicious. And, and I Ñ" she looked up at him, shaking
her head in denial even as she whispered in growing
horror "Ñ betrayed Amos to the Roman?"

He touched her cheek, a feather soft caress. "Lady,
you have been ill. You were poisoned by the coldsleep
drugs that we took. It is not your fault"

"Oh," she said, "oh," and threw herself into his arms,
weeping. "Please forgive me," she pleaded, "I am
unworthy, I am foul, but I beg you, Joseph, do not
despise me. Do not leave me."

386

Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. StMing

"I could never despise my lady," he said simply. He
extended a hand which she grasped, though the
fingers were slippery with death.

"Come, we have little time," he said. "We must get
you to a place of safety, and I have much work to do this
day."	*

"Then let us hasten, Joseph," she replied.

Joat and Patsy dropped down, halting at the sight of
the body. They scanned the hall tensely, then edged
nearer. Joat looked at it out,of the corner of her eyes,
but the older woman stared hungrily.

The arc pistol rose, then fell helplessly.

"It's him," she whispered. "It's him. And it's been
done!" Her tone was aggrieved, indignant.

Joat moved up beside her. Boy, is he ever done, she
thought with her newfound squeamishness, and tried
to ignore the smell. This skudgesueker worked up an awful
lot of mad against himself. It was not that she regretted his
death, just...

"Sorry it wasn't you?" she said, looking up at her
companion.

For the first time since her rape, Patsy Sue Coburn
was weeping.

"No," she said, her voice thick. "No, I'm not sorry.
Not sorry he's dead, not sorry it wasn't me. Jist glad this
dawg will never hurt nobody agin. I... won't have to
remember doing it, now."

"Yeah, that's right," Joat said desolately, slamming the
doors of memory firmly shut "C'mon, we got work to do."

They turned to Joseph and Rachel. "Let's boost her
up," Joat continued. "Axial up one ought to be safe
enough to stash her. Then we can get on with it"

"Simeon?" Channa said softly. "You back?"
"Part of me." His voice sounded dim, although the
implant's volume was always the same. "I'm dancing

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

387

on a sawblade, keeping their communications down
and fighting off their ships' computers. Can't keep
them out of touch forever." More sharply. "You all

right?"
"You want to know^" she said, dressing with calm

haste.	<

"Yeah."

"It was annoying as hell... and sort of strenuous." A
moment's urchin grin. "And to tell the truth, I'd have
been forever curious if I hadn't What I'd like" she said
as she finished sealing her overall to the neck, "is to see
his face when he realizes I'm not coming back through
that door."

"I'll record it."

"And don't tell Amos."

A section of the ceiling paneling turned translucent
and slid back. Joat's face showed through and then her
body somersaulted down.

"There's a crawlspace we c'n get into now that leads
to a bunch of air-ducts and electric-conduits. Come on."

Channa examined the hatch in the ceiling and
smiled wryly. 'Just like in a holovid," she murmured.

Joat grinned. "Yeah, only a lot smaller." She looked
anxiously at Channa's lean length. "You may find it a
squeeze. Had to leave the others back a ways. Do you
nurdly when you're cramped?"

"Is there a choice?" Channa said.

"Then you don't. Push yourself along with your
hands and toes. Don't try to use your knees or you'll
eventually black out from the pain."

"Do you speak as one who knows?"

"Uh-huh, I've seen it happen. Give me a boost?"

Channa braced, cupped her hands, lifted Joat
towards the ceiling hatch.

"Ready." Joat's voice came down, sounding a little
hollow.

"Stand back." Channa crouched down and sprang

388

Anrte McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

upwards, catching the sides of the hole and pulling
herself straight up, arms trembling with the strain.

The crawlspace was narrow and cramped and con-
fining. She had to breathe and move in different
motions. It was wonderful	&

CHAplfalTWENTYTWO

"Okay," Florian Gusky croaked. "Go." He coughed,
his lungs and throat a mass of pain and fire. The air sys-
tem had_not been designed to be occupied for
two-week stays. "Go, you bastards."

Eight tugs and the mining scout In Your Dreams
brought up their systems. There had been ten tugs,
but Lowbau and Wong hadn't been answering on
tightbeam for four days. If something had gone wrong
with their life-support, neither of them had made a
sound while it happened, accepting death in the
silence of their powered-down ships, alone in the dark.

"Comin' home," Gus whispered.

The tugs had drifted with the other debris that clut-
tered the vicinity of the station. He gave silent thanks
for the fact that Simeon had never been a neat
housekeeper. More that Channa hadn't had time to
reform him before the trouble struck. Now the ener-
gies of their drives painted half of heaven. Acceleration
pushed him back into the padding, beyond what the
compensators could handle. The screen ahead of him
was a holo-driven schematic, with his target and
approach vector marked off as a box, and the tug a blip
that had to be kept inside it. Easy work for a military
craft, but these tugs were designed for hard slow pulls,
not whipping around. Nothing else mattered but the
vector, and the load of scrap and ore trailing behind
him. Through his body the drives hummed, pushed
past all prudence and all hope.

His mind found time to note the bright spark that was a

390

Arme McCaffny&SM Stirling

tuggoing up , a pulse from the engine detonation and then
the brighterflash of the destabilized powerplant

"Well, that ought to let 'em know we're here,** he
muttered. Whiskers rasped against the feeding nozzle
and the mike as his head movedfai the helmet. He
knew his face must look neither sane nor pleasant The
tug surged as he corrected. Tfee station filled a
sidescreen, and the bristling saucer shape of the Kol-
nari battle platform docked to its north polar tube, like
some monstrous tick swelling with blood.

"You're mme,"Gusshouted past cracked lips. '

Simeon stood in the passageway. Rock rumbled
around him, the bomb exploded away from a spot
above, chips stinging his eyes and going spang off his
armor. The long head that battered through was scaled
in sapphire and had eyes set all about it, in a bone rill
that turned to spikes. The muzzle split four ways, and
each segment was lined with fangs. The tongue
between was a metal-tipped spear ready to strike.

He struck first, grabbing it in an armored gaundet
and hauling back before the quadruple jaws could
slam shut When they did, it was on their own tongue.
A high whine of pain drove needles into Simeon's ears.
He kept his grip on the lashing end, whipped it three
times around the muzzle and tied a quick slip-knot.
Then he stood back and took a double-handed grip on
his glowing baseball bat. Thwak. The guardian pro-
gram shivered, slumped, dissolved into metallic
fragments that scurried back and forth disorganized,
then decayed instantly into floating bytes.

"Next," he said, walking forward toward the iron-
strapped door, which wasprobably the entrance to the
CPU. "Geeze, I've got to patent this AI interface," he
said, taking stance again. "It's Ñ

Boom. Oak splintered, wrought iron bent and
shrieked.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

391

"Ñ fordlin' Ñ "
Boom.

The commander of the High Clan batde platform
Skull Crusher pivoted on one heel. The big circular room
was half-empty; the liberty parties were only now
returning.

"What?" he barked at the info-systems watch-officer.
Not now. He was scheduled to undock and begin transit
first, to be there when the transports came in for ren-
dezvous with the rest of the High Clan. Just in case, but
the weight of the responsibility was heavy, and this was
his first independent command.

"Lord, our system is under attack!"

"The worm program?" Chindik t'Marid was a
specialist in those. He had designed the standard Clan
attack worm himself. He was also a game designer of
note, although that was merely a hobby.

"No," the tech said. His fingers were dancing over
his board. "Something's just smashing its way in."

"Aside." Chindik called up a graphic. He whisded
silently. Something with enormous computational
power was battering at the defenses with tremendous
force, trying all the solutions. There was no indication
of realspace location. His computers were spending all
their capacity just keeping the enemy out. But since
there was only one enemy installation in sight Ñ

"Cut the cable feeds to the station," he said. "Batde
alert to all other vessels.1*

"I can't cut the feeds," the tech said. "The retractors
won't answer. Neither do the landline comms to the
rest of the flotilla."

"Well, then Ñ " Chindik began. Another cry stopped
him.

"Detection," the sensor operator said. "Multiple

392

AnneMcCaffrey &f SJM. Stfrfmg-

detection. Powerplant signatures. Close, lord, dose.
Approaching."

"Attack vectors," the tactical computer announced.
"Vessel is under attack.*1

"Those aren't warships," Chindjk said in astonished
dismay as he read the screen. His head whipped back
and forth, reflex in a creature attacked from all sides.
Then he straightened, strode back to the commander's
station, and sank into the couch.

"Combat alert," he said. The chimes began to sound,
wild and sweet. "Battlestarions. Deploy short-range
energy weapons. Fire on any of those ... gnats as the
weapons bear. Gantry?"

"Lord?" The dockside guards were looking away
from the pickup. "Lord, we hear Ñ"

"Silence! Send parties through the sidelock and blow
the feeds connecting us to the scumvermin hulk."

"Lord?"

"Obey!"

The guards scattered like mercury struck with a
hammer.

"Blast-broadcast," Chindik said. "Five-minute sig-
nal, all crew rally to the Crusher. Then undock."

"Lord, I've been trying to activate the decoupling pro-
cedure." The bridge was filling as the standby crew ran in
and slid into their stations. "My telltales say it is working,
but the visual scanner shows no activity."

"Send a party from engineering to dog it manually.
Engines, prepare to maneuver."

"Lord, we're still physically linked."

"I know. We'll rip loose, and take the damage.
Estimate."

"Six minutes to readiness, lord."

The weapons team were working in a blur of trained
unison. "Enemy dosing. Velocities follow. Preparing to
engage ... Lord, we need maneuvering room! They
are too close for interceptor missiles."

THE Cm- WHO FOUGHT

393

"Make it three minutes, Engines." He turned back to
the communications console. "Get me the commanderr

"Down two decks, use the emergency shaft. Down
two decks, use the emergency shaft."

Simeon's voice rang through the corridor. All up and
down it, the doors of the residential apartments were
opening. Stationers came out, First singly, then in
groups, in scores. They ran past the working party at
the corridor junction, grabbed whatever shapes were
thrust into their hands: needlers, industrial torches,
bundles of blasting explosive with fuses cobbled
together out of calculators, handlights and spare
consumer-goods chips. Their faces were set and tight,
or grinning, or snarling wordlessly.

Simeon broke off another fragment of attention as
Amos came up.

"Channa?" the Bethelite asked. Then, as she moved
into sight from behind Joseph, he cried in relief. "Chan-
nar They had time for a single swift hug.

His eye widened slightly as he saw Joseph's body
splashed with drying blood from knees to neck.

"Mostly not my own, Brother," Joseph said grinning.

"You are hurt."

"Cracked rib. It is nothing."

Amos nodded briskly. "So for, they are surprised," he
said to Channa. "But that will not last." The fabric of
the station quivered beneath their feet.

Belazir t'Marid stepped back from the door. The
frame of the chair was bent in his hands, but only
gouges showed on the surface. He dropped the shat-
tered mass and looked around, his eyes narrowed.

fool, he thought, and suppressed anger. There
would be time for recriminations later. Perhaps... He
retrieved his equipment belt and extracted the univer-
sal microtool. There had to be a connecting line

394

AntuMcCaffny fef SM. Stating

somewhere around the entranceway. He cast a glance
over his shoulder at the titanium pillar that had been
beneath the tapestries.

"You will pay for this, my friend," he said. "For a very
longtime."	£.

"Eat shit and die, Master and God," Simeon replied.
God, that felt good. I've been waiting to say that. "You
screwed the pooch. You did the doo-doo, big. Ifou've
got a place in the next edition ofFrom the Jaws of Victory*

Belazir turned away with a smile and a shrug, going
to work on the exterior access panel.

"Can you feel pain?" he said as he began slicing it open
with the short-range cutting laser in the tool "I hope so.
Very much." He deployed die hair-thin probe.

And I was playing below my level on the war
games," Simeon added.

"Barricade at the next junction, lord."

The groundfighter's voice sounded in her head-
phones. Pol t'Veng filed it with the other voices filling
her helmet, squeezing at them with the force of her will
until they began to assume some pattern.

Takiz," she said to her second. He looked around from
the six power-armored figures at the junction. Just ahead
the corridor had been wrecked by a satchel-charge; the
tangle of walls, tubing and die remains of the floating gun
was still white-hoL Two of the suited Koinari forced their
way into the narrow place and began to straighten. Metal
screamed as it was deformed again. Hot gases pooled
around them and the remains of die gun-crew.

"Takiz, when we're through here, take four and
make another attempt at Lord Belazir's last location.
Maximum effort."

That translated as "Bring him or don't come back."

"I hear and obey, Lord Pol."

"Lord Pol, we have a cleared line to the main axial
corridor."

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

395

"Good," she said. Good news, the first since this
started. "Reports."

"Fightingon all the docking levels, Lord. Data follows."

It did; also pickup views. One for only a second; the
view from a powersqit as its wearer backed into the
open port of a Clan transport. Stationers were firing
from behind barricades of machinery and crates in the
open space beyond. The lights were out and the view
had the glassy look of light-enhancement. Softsuited
crewfolk ran past the groundfighter. His plasma rifle
snapped again and a makeshift breastwork exploded
along with the bodies of the scumvermin behind it-
Then all the telltales that ran below the visual flashed
red. Not good news for the occupant of that suit, since
the internal temperature was now over two hundred
degrees. The scene began to fog just as she could make
out a bundle of plastic bricks wired together arcing
toward the airlock. Then it cut out abruptly.

Bad. That was one vessel that would be undocking
with extreme difficulty. She projected a schematic on
the corridor wall and studied it as the information
flowed in. More bad news, but at least she had a pic-
ture.

"General transmission," she said. "Lord Pol t'Veng,
assuming command in the absence of Lord Belazir.
Crews, report to nearest vessel. Those near the
exterior, blow your way out of the pressure hull and
EVA to the nearest vessel."

Many of them would be suited, and emergency
dingmasks Ñ films that protected the face somewhat,
with a miniaturized recycler Ñ were standard issue.
For that matter, Koinari could endure about four
minutes of vacuum if trained and prepared.

"We retreat?" someone asked, shocked.

"No, fool!" she said. The speaker was an officer with
an intact company ranged behind him. It was worth
the time to answer as she might herself fall, in which

396

AnneMeCaffny&SJU. Stirling

case he would need the information. "Look!" She
downloaded her appraisal. "They fight to keep us
here. We fight for fighting room. We have completed our
mission."

"I hear and obey, lord."	&

"You had better," she muttered to herself Now that
the blockage had been cleared, more Kolnari were
gathering in the cross-corridors.

"We fight our way through to the axial corridor," she
said. "You, Dittrek. Is that barricade still holding?"

"Yes, lord. I do not have enough men to rush it again."

"Blow through the access walls to either side of your
position," she said. "Then blow through the connect-
ing partitions and flank them. Quickly."

"Lord."

She turned to the others. "To the docksÑfollow me!"

"Now!" Gus muttered to himself. The computer did
the actual release. The tug released its grapnel field
and applied lateral thrust, just enough to swing him
wide of the station itself.

He removed his hands from the controls and
slapped the main power switch; the safest thing to do,
now. There were a lot of high-velocity debris around
... including the wrecks of the other tugs. He felt a
curious peace, almost as if he could sleep.

"Lord, we boost," the engine comm of Heart Crusher
said. At the same moment, the weapons console gave a
cry of fury.

"Kinetic slugs inbound. Prepare for impact. Inner
defense batteries on auto."

"Full maneuver power. Boosting."

Chindik t'Marid prayed silently to the platform
joss, making reckless promises. The big vessel
lurched and rending sounds echoed through the
fabric of its hull as the jammed connectors tore out,

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

397

like roots parting in the earth. The most effective
weapons were on the underside, and that was still
pointed towards the SSS-900-C. There was nothing
he could do, anyone could do, except the AI systems
handling the close-in cjefense Ñ something beyond
even Kolnari reflexes.

Sprays of trajectory crossed on the screens. Absently
he noted the second to last attacking vessel taking a
beam. An irrelevancy now, after the huge scatter of
high-velocity projectiles had been loosed against bis
command. The slew of dots diminished, as the beams
swept, more and more with each second as the stubby
disk turned its teeth toward the sky.

Tinngggggg. Timtggggg. He waited, tense. No more
contact. The rest of the incoming flotsam had been
stopped, or missed, or struck the station instead.

"Damage control!"

A few lights were strobing from green to amber to
red. The engines screen came on.

"Lord... the exciter coils for the FTL were hit"

"How long?"

"A week, lord. It is a dockyard job." The Roman on
the bridge exchanged looks. They had just heard news
of their deaths.

"You," Chindik snapped to a backup crewman.
"Take that Ñ" he indicated the joss "Ñ and space it"

"We have Lord Pol, lord."

The doors hissed open. Belazir jumped back with a
yell as the plasma rifle leveled.

"Lord!" The man seemed ready to weep with relie£
Belazir ignored him, diving for the empty suit that fol-
lowed behind the warrior. For a wonder, it was his own,

"Where is Serig?" Belazir barked. He had expected
him to be here, or taking command. Matters should
not have got so far out of hand.

With the door open, the smells and sounds of combat

398

Amu McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

were obvious: deep toning sounds as explosions tore at the
fabric of the station, far offchuddering ofbeam weapons,
the stink of hot metal and ozone. Belazir folded the suit
around him, leaving the catheters for later. If I have to piss
down my leg, so be it. It came alive wi|b a jerk, and he flexed
the servo-powered limbs and gauntlets with exultation.

"Lord Serig is dead, Great Ijord. Lord Pol com-
mands. We have a link.**

The news staggered Belazir for a moment. Serig
dead? Then he damped the helmet. "Lord Pol?"

"Here! Report follows."-Mosdy disaster. "They came
at us out of the walls, must have been hiding there since
the occupation began."
Belazir nodded jerkily.

"We hold the ships," Pol said crisply. "Except for one
transport that has, incredibly, been overrun. They
attack the docks and encircle pockets of our troops."

"Continue consolidating the pockets and punch
through to the ships," he said. "Status?"

"Heart Crusher is free but her FTL is down," Pol said.
"My Shark is also disengaged and I am not bringing her
back. Half the transports are moving, but some with
heavy damage. Dreadful Bride has nearly full crew, plus
personnel from others, and is in control of her docking
area and ready to boost."
"Age of Darkness?"

"Still not even answering her comm," Pol said, her
voice taking on emotion for the first time. "My
youngest daughter against a used wiperag. Her
outer info was penetrated and they did not even,"
she spat the word, "notice."

"No wager," Belazir said. He reached back over his
shoulder and swung the punchgun rack down. It click-
ed into its rest along his right arm. The aiming bars lit
on his faceplate as he turned and cycled for sonic and
IR scan on the pillar that held the brain. Ahhh, yes. There
is the interior structure, and the access hatchway. "You may

THE crrv WHO FOUGHT

399

assume tactical command from the Age of Darkness,
Lord Pol, once you reach it. I will follow to the Bride.
There is a matter to attend to here."

"Through there," Amos said. He pointed to two
broken access door* across the circular open space.
Most of it had been covered with kiosks, stores, res-
taurants and other structures until an hour ago. Now
those were smoldering ruins, scattered among that
were the bodies and the wreckage of the servomechs
the stationers had used as their first wave. "They are
back from the entrance on the second to the right*1

"We'll go through subaxial E-9 and punch across,"
Keri Holen replied. "That's one of the hidden sections."

She turned to her squad, a mix of station repair
people with their working tools and ordinary civilians
armed with whatever.

"C'mon, scumvermin," she said. "Let's go show the
lords what we think of em. Follow me."

"How are we doing?" Channa said beside Amos,
bobbing up and loosing a burst with her needier.
Covering fire from all the stationers lashed out at the
exit shafts as the assault team dodged forward. The
barricade ahead of them was corytium, brought in by
the handler servos, and plasma rounds had splashed
off the front, or welded the ingots together and made
the barrier stronger. They still had to expose them-
selves to shoot, if only in a crevice between two ingots.

Amos ducked down with her as another series of
bolts hit the metal. They could feel the barricade shud-
der and tone. The inner layer was barely warm, but the
temperature above flash-heated enough to make their
skins tingle. The stink of hot corycium made them
cough, and Channa thought how worried she would
have been in ordinary times; the fumes were not
healthy. Then the whole station shuddered, and the
gravity fluxed sufficiently to be noticeable.

400

Awne McCaffrey & SM Stating

Nothing like a plasma bolt to give you a sense ofperspective,
she thought.

"Not doing too wefl, my darling," Amos said absently. A
team from the Perimeter Restaurant was crawling from
person to person with bags of sandwiches and juice.
More of the restaurant's people were back two junctions,
running a triage station under the direction of one of
Chaundra's meditechs. "TTiey are using the battle plat-
form and the warship for fire support from outside, and
we cannot stop them uniting their scattered groups. The
groups that survived, thatjs." He sighed and smiled at
her through the black smudges of powdered metal. "I
cannot think of finer company than yours to travel to
God with, Channa Hap," he said.

"I'm glad, too," she said. "Sorry it was this way, butgiad."
He reached out to touch her shoulder. Then her face
went glarid. For a moment he feared she had been hit,
before he recognized the expression. She was com-
muning with Simeon. Her throat worked. "Amos!" she
burst out "They're taking Simeon out of his column!"

The Bethelite paled. Without their all-seeing com-
mander and chief of general staff, the station was
doomed, and quickly. Channa turned and began to
leopard-crawl backward. He grabbed for her ankle.
"There is nothing you can do," he hissed
"I'm his brawn! I have to!" she cried, and kicked free.
Amos looked after her and cursed.

'Joseph!'1 he said. "We have to retake main axial, at
least for a moment Ñ along the path to the central
command. Take Ñ"

The final lead connecting Simeon to the station came
free. No\ Simeon cried into the darkness. The self-
destruct had been left too late. The Navy had not come,
and the enemy were breaking free. When they had
him on board, the station would die.

He had nothing now, nothing but the single pickup

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

401

and audio circuit that were part of his inner shell. Life
support was on the backups. It would keep his nutrient
feeds going for days ... but a single hand could switch
him into total darkness, utter isolation. Madness, death
without the mercy of oblivion. No!

Belazir was still visible, leaning over the shell. He
lifted off his helmet'with both hands, looming over
the pickup to smile whitely. The shell surged as
the powersuited warriors bent carefully and lifted,
the huge weight coming up slowly as their
armor whined in protest. There was a slight klinking
sound as the helmet rested on the upper face of the
shell itself.

"So that you should have my face for your last sight,"
the Kolnari chieftain said, reaching for the keypad on
the shell exterior. "When you see again, you will call
me Master and God . . . and you will mom it." He
touched a finger to the control. "Beg, Simeon."

"Eat shit and far

The Kolnari chuckled. "Not good enough," he said,
and pressed the stud.

The doors to Channa's room slapped open. Channa
stepped through, needier at the ready. Belazir could
feel the aimpoint on his forehead.

"You wanted me again, Belazir?" she said. "Better
late than never. Here I am." A slight movement wag-
gled the muzzle. "This is set on spray. It's quite fetal.
Now, away from the shell, please."

Belazir smiled at her. What a woman! he thought. /
will beat her, but not too badly. "There are three of us," he
said, shifting slightly. Although unfortunately I have my
helmet off and these two are immobilized by the load they carry,
he added to himself. "We are in armor. You can scarcely
expect to frighten us with that toy alone."

Patsy Sue Coburn followed her friend out of the
quarters, leveling her arc pistol. A red burn-mark
welted one cheek, bleeding knees and elbows showed

402

Anw McCaffrey &? S M. Stirling

through the holes worn in her coverall, but there was
real pleasure in her smile.

"Life's full a' surprises, ain't it?" she said as Belazir
snarled silently. "Real bitch sometimes, too."

Channa tossed her head in a vain attempt to get the
sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes.

"Yes," she said evenly, "I do expect to frighten you.
Now, replace the shell in the main column cradle and
reconnect it. Then, all of you, throw your helmets aside
and move over there." She gestured towards the door
to Amos' quarters. "I expect your pirates will trade a
good deal for you."

"And keep your hands up," snapped a voice from
above.

Kolnari heads turned to the opening in the ceiling. A
head and arms protruded, far too small for an adult of
their bigboned race, but the muzzle of the plasma rifle
was held steadily in those slight arms. The weapon
looked absurdly large for the person who controlled it,
but it was braced against the interior wall and the lip of
the hole, and he could see the aimpoint, a red dot that
wavered over the three pirates.

"Up," the child repeated, lifting the muzzle of the
weapon for emphasis.

Belazir's mind computed the angles. Good. My left
hand is not irisible, he thought

"You leave us little choice," he said aloud. Which was
true; honor aside, he had no choice at all. Pol t'Veng or
any other Kolnari noble would cheerfully let Father
Chalku or their own sires be flayed alive rather than
disgrace them by paying ransom, much less do so for
him. He would rather be flayed than live on those terms
himself

"Move the shell," he said to the two troopers. "It's
only three paces."

He raised his gauntleted hands, dosing his eyes and
flagging positions. The deck boomed like a drum as the

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

403

pirate groundfighters moved a pace in lockstep
unison, the ton weights of their suits added to triple
that of titanium and machinery ... and the few kilos of
a body that had never seen the light of day.

Three, he counted and dropped the flash grenade.
Before it hit the shell, hft was leaping backwards, and so
were the two other Clan warriors. He squeezed his eyes
tight and willed his pupils shut, but even so the flash
was dazzling. He hit the doorframe going out, went
flat, scrabbled the helmet he had snatched onto his
head. The plasma rifle had crashed simultaneous with
the grenade. A brief scream and the smell from inside
told him it had still been on target.

He blinked open his eyes as the locking ring of the
helmet clicked. The combat medsystem sprayed a mist
into his eyes, but his vision was severely degraded in
any case. He activated the sonic sensor, to cheep the
location of things at him.

"Takiz!" he called.

"Fully functional, lord," the warrior answered. "Kin-
tirisdead."

/ will beat her very severely, Belazir amended. Even
with the dazzles before his eyes, he could see several
arc-pistol shots snap out through the doorway, and
his machine-augmented hearing picked up the tell-
tale click of an arming plasma rifle. The walls were
reinforced here, as well. It would be tricky, and he
had not much time. Now he did not put it past these
extraordinary scumvermin to blow the station them-
selves.

The comm chimed and Baila's face filled one of the
chinscreens, a vague dark blur. Her voice was scratchy
with interference but audible. "Great Lord," she said
calmly. "Ships detected, incoming."

No! he shouted inwardly. No,1

"Lord," another voice spoke. The senior ground-
fighter officer. "We're holding a counterattack on the

404

Arme McCaffiny fcf SM. Stirling

main axial, but I cannot guarantee your withdrawal
Not for any period beyond now."

For perhaps ten seconds Belazir panted sharply.

"I will be there in five minutes, or not at all," he said.
"Out. Takiz, follow me. We head for the docks." Thank
the joss, he thought with savage irony, the northpolar
doting tube is so close to here.

fm blind, Channa thought. Her skin crinkled, wait-
ing for the clamp of powered gauntlets. Beside her
Patsy was shooting.

"Careful, Pats," Channa gasped. The blackness was
starred with red, now, and she felt needles of pain in
her forehead. Her free hand felt upward, touched her
eyes. Wetness... tears, only tears. The eyes felt normal
to her fingertips. For a long moment, she had feared it
was something like that horrible popper Joat had
made.

"I'm careful, all rant," Patsy said. "Got my shootin'
iron right on the doorway. They cain't move quiet in
those tin suits."

'Joat?"

"I'm all right," the girl's voice said. Her voice had a
saw-edged note that denied the words. "Hurts and I
can't see, though. I'm coming down."

"Don't get between me an1 the door!" Patsy said
sharply.

Channa dropped to her knees and shuffled forward,
hand outstretched. That touched something hot,
which brought a sharp gasp of pain; next a warm wet-
ness. She wiped her hand on the carpet and tried
again. The smooth titanium-matrix surface of the shell
was like a benediction. When she moved to the keypad,
a smaller hand touched hers. They gripped for a
moment, then pressed the key.

"NnoooooooooooooÑ" The scream was piercing, but
Simeon's backup speakers on his inner shell had limited

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

405

volume. He stuttered, babbled, then organized his voice.

"Thhh... ank you," he said. "Channa? Joat?" Patsy
came into the field of his vision. "What's happened?"

"He dropped something," Channa said. "There was
a white light and we can't see."

"Flash grenade," Silicon answered. "Don't worry! It
isn't permanent!" "

Channa gave a sobbing sigh of relief and heard it
echoed. "How long?"

"Well... how close were you?"

"Two meters to six, and looking right at it."

"Oh." A pause. "About a day, with medication, I'm
afraid," he said. At least for the person who was six meters
away. About the others I'm worried. Long-term reaction
was variable.

"Oh,great. They may come back in the doorÑ"

"No, they won't. I can hear their armor moving away
toward the docking tube. Lots of fighting. Look, it's the
answer to my prayers to have three beautiful women
hugging my shell, but could you get me reconnected?
Please? It's important."

"We can't lift you back, that's for sure," Joat said.

He frowned inwardly at the shakiness in her tone,
but he had no instant remedy for her.

"There's plenty of spare play in the cables," Channa
said. "How did they?" Her voice trailed off tactfully.

Simeon felt himself cringing again.

"No, it's all right." Sure it is. "They cut the cable
guards and then just pulled the jacks," he said. Cutting
away my strength, my sight, my feeling, cutting away me.
"Problem is ... they're color-coded. And the receptors
may be damaged."

"I'll get them sorted out," she said as she moved out
of his severely limited range of vision.

How do softshells stand only one pair of vision sensors? he
wondered. Even for a few minutes, his control had
been strained to the breaking point.

406

AnruMcCaffrvy & SJtf. Stirting

She returned with the cables, a double armful even
with ultra-high-data-density opticals. The jacks for the
leads were like a spray of fine hairs.

"Oh, oh," Simeon said.

"What do you mean, 'oh-oh,'" Channa replied.

"Everyone knows what 'oh-oh' means," Simeon said.
"It means, 'I screwed the pooch.' Your hands.. .*

"... are too big," she answered. "Damn."

"I can do it,** Joat said.

"You can't see, Joat"

"Neither can Channa. I'v&worked in the dark lots of
times. Had to. Got that toolbelt with the micros from
Engineering, too."

"They gave you one?" Simeon said, momentarily
startled.

"No."

"Don't tell me," he said. "All right Someone should
stand guard. I can hear if anyone's coining and give
you a bearing. Patsy?"

"Surely will," Patsy said. She felt her way to the
doorframe.

"You keep the slack on the cables, Channa."

"I've wanted to yank your cord for a long time
anyway, Simeon," she said with an attempt at a gafiow's
humor. Simeon felt his heart turn over as she smiled
down at him.

"Okay, feel your way up the face of the shell, Jack-of-
AU-Trades and master of some." Her small hands slid
upward over the smooth surface to the rounded top.
"Stop," he said to prevent her fingers from tangling the
hair fine wires protruding from the receptor
couplings.

"You be my hands, kid, 111 be your eyes, *kay?"

She took a deep breath. "Okay, what do I do?"

"Walk the fingers of your right hand two paces for-
ward, one pace to the left. Feel that wire?"

"Yeah."

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

407

"Follow it to the lead. Now, with your left hand..."

A minute later Simeon yelled again, this time a long
high screech that sounded something like Patsy as she
had at game-time rooting for the home team.

"Sorry, I'm sorry Simeon, I didn't mean to hurtcha,
honest!"

"You didn't." A bugle fanfare blew through the
lounge, and segued into a Sou/a march, then the
Ganymede Harp Variations.

"You've bolixed his oxygen feeds," Channa said
frantically, groping forwards.

"It's thecavabyl Ta-ta-tata-tara tat-teraaaa!"

"Simeon!"

"Has he gon' an* lost it?"

Aragiz t'Varak lolled, half-dreaming. A very pleasant
daydream. He was back on homeworld, a territorial lord
like the old recordings, and somehow Belazir t'Marid was
there. Aragiz had just defeated him the old way, spec-
tacular battles amid spouting radioactive geysers.
Blasting into the stronghold with primitive fission
weapons, hand-shaped plutonium triggered by black
powder. Belazir groveled, begging mercy for his line, but
they were led out and slaughtered before his eyes. Aragiz
was just getting into the interesting post-victory part
when the communications officer interrupted him.

"Detection ... Outer ring satellites. Ship signatures,
inbound."

The bridge of the Age of Darkness came alert.
Everyone had been waiting, nothing more to do until
they undocked next cycle and escorted the transports
back to rendezvous. He had brought everyone in,
ready for departure. NowÑ

"Another pullet for the plucking," Aragiz said lazily.
He felt tired. Perhaps from that scumvermin boy, what
was his name, Juke. A nice active squealer, not like that
unpleasant one who'd gone into fits after a single kiss,

408

back in the corridors. He'd kicked that one aside with a
shudder. Not for a moment did he think that he would
catch any disease, but it had been an unpleasant sight

"Action stations." The soft chimes rang, eerie and
ironic in their gentle harmony. "Give me a reading,
and relay to flotilla command and station-side."

The sensor officer consulted the machine. "Very
large mass, Great Lord. Seventy to eighty kilotons."

"Probably an ore carrier," the captain said. "Useful,
if not dramatic " The Clan could always use Ñ

"Link is down," Communications said.

"Again?" Aragiz barked. He couldn't decouple from
the station without clearance. That Bad Seed chugrut
Belazir had been fairly dear about that. Also, running
an intercept on an incoming freighter could be tricky.
And his head hurt, as if he'd been knocked uncon-
scious and recovered...

"Check climate control," he said. It was hoi. He was
sweating, and he rarely did, even in combat practice at
Kolnar-noon temperature.

"Yes, GreatÑwehavelostcommw^thfstation^sidevxitch.'*

"Wto?"Aragizsatboltupright. "When?"

"Some time ago. We have been getting repeats of the
last routine bailings."

TTiat made his stomach lurch, and suddenly he bent
over the arm and spewed.

"Fool!" he screamed. "Alarm Ñ" He choked on bile.
What is happening tome? He tried to rise, fell back,
thrashed, and slipped over the arm of the
commander's couch into the spilled vomit

Shouts of alarm rose from the crew. The groundlink
screens flickered. One cleared to show a Kolnari face
being pounded against the pickup.

The executive officer looked down at the jerking
form of the captain, and took command.

"Remaining crew, prepare for boarding action. Suit
up and Ñ"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

409

"Cancel that," a gravelly voice said.

The officer blinked, and almost shouted in gratitude.
Pol t'Veng trotted in, her combat armor scored and still
smoking in places, like that of the others behind her
Still, she was t'Veng Ñ

"Lord Captain," he began. There was a careful
protocol about subclan ship territories.

She cut him off. "Uprising. Couldn't make the Shark.
stationer electronics scrambled, hostile-controlled.
Emergency. Dump your system and call up the backup."

Pol glared at him, sparing the time until he sub-
mitted and saluted. Then she sank into the command
couch. Inwardly, she sighed. Every time the joss
seemed to throw the Clan a little luck, they were
knocked back to a handful of homeless fugitives again.
Every system on the ship dipped, then firmed, as the
duplicate backup computers came on-line. A glance at
the captain's readouts gave her the situation.

"Monitor the incoming," she said.

"Lord captain, it is a freighter. Should we not be
assisting in getting the station back in the fist?"

"Shut up. You assumed it was a freighter. Check that
reading again. Now!" Her voice was a bellow, its
natural volume increased by the suit's system to an ear
shattering volume.

"Reading... Anomalous readings, lord."

"Let me see." He keyed over to her the feeds, unfiltered
data. "Youngfool, that's notanomalousÑthat's Fleetl"

She paused a second to free a sidearm and pump a
pulse of energy into Aragiz's thrashing body. His
squealing was distracting.

"Emergency decouple," she said. Besides, she had
wanted to kill him for years. This one should have been
culled before he walked.

"We are loading fuel!"

"Move."

He did. His hand swept the controls, and the Age of

410

Arme McCaffrey 6? SM,. Stirling

Darkness shuddered as explosive charges blasted it
loose from the SSS-900-C's north docking tube. Fire
blossomed out of the dockway after them, along with
steam and pieces of cargo and humans. Kolnari as well
as scumvermin, she supposed. ^

"Broadcast, override, High Clan seek Refuge, High
Clan seek Refuge," she snapped. "Put it on loop, open
Clan frequency."

The officer's eyes flared wide. That was die command to
break, run and scatter, to approach the preset rendezvous
points only years later and with maximum caution. Those
points were in no file, no hedron, only in living brains and
only a few of those. The final desperation measure to
protect the Divine Seed, that it might grow again.

"Heart Crusher. Chindik t'Marid."

"Put it through."

"Lord Pol, you are receiving what I do?"

"Yes."

"Data coming in," the sensor chief said.

Pol t'Veng looked down again. The Fleet warships
were coming up out of subspace like tungior broaching
in the seas of Kolnar; huge masses, neutrino signatures
of enormous powerplants, ripping through into the
fabric of reality.

"Command frequency broadcast! Identifying follow-
ing," she said. "Fleet units emerging coordinates
follow, probables: destroyers, six Ñ correction, six
destroyers plus three light, one heavy cruiser and pos-
sible ... Confirmed, three assault carriers. All Clan
ships, report status. Lord t'Marid, report status."

"We coordinate?" Chindick asked.

"No. You have not the insystem boost. Use the sta-
tion for cover as long as you can. They will not
endanger it."

"Repeat?"

"Scumvermin psychology. Go. Lord t'Marid, status."

T Marid here," the familiar voice said, harsher than

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

411

she could remember. "Bride decoupling. We can cover."

"No, with respect Yours is the more valuable Seed."
Especially since this skip has t'Varak's sweepings as crew. "Bride,
Shark and Strangier should cover the transports."

A pause. "Agreed. Y\fciit for us with the Ancestors,
Pol t'Veng."	t

"Guard our Seed and Clan, Belazir I'Marid," she
replied.

Then her attention went back to the work at hand. A
Central Worlds Space Navy medium attack group bore
down on them, with a dozen times the firepower the
High Clan had available here and now, given the general
pathetic botchup. About equal to the whole current Clan
armada, give or take a dozen factors. Pol had fought the
Fleet before and had a healthy respect for their
capabilities. They were dangerous scumvermin.

"Helm," she went on. "Set course. Coordinates fol-
low." She had plugged the suit's leads into the couch.
"Maximum boost"

"Lord Captain," the executive officer said. "That is a
course/or the enemy fleet. What are we to do there?"
With one undercrewed frigate, went without saying.

"Do?" Pol t'Veng roared out a single bark of
laughter. "We die, fool!"

The commander's couch reclined, locking into
combat position. "We will attempt to break through
to the transports," she said. "The warships will
maneuver to protect them. We fight for maximum
delay. Any questions?"

"Command us, lord!"

"Prepare to engage."

"They are smashing us like eggs," Joseph said.

Amos nodded. Without Simeon, the stationers lost
their advantage of superior coordination. Against
professionals, he had been the only one they had had,
once the Kolnari recovered their balance.

412

Anne McCtffrey & SM. Stirling

"Simeon was a... a brave man," Amos said. And if he
were realty a man, a dangerous rival, he added to himself
"And very skillful. I honor his memory." Joseph nodded;
they clasped hand to forearm. "Farewell, my brother."

"Fardlin* touching, really," a voirffc said in his ear.

Amos leaped upright, then ducked again frantically
as a bolt spattered metal near his face.

"Simeon?" he gasped.

"No, the Ghost of Christmas Past," the brain replied.
"I'm back. So," he went on, glee bubbling through his
voice, "are some other people.*1

A holo formed behind the barricade: a figure in
green power armor of a chunkier, more compact
design than the Kolnari suits Amos was used to. In the
background was the bridge of a large vessel, battle-clad
figures moving about. A woman, with a man in like
equipment but different insignia beside her.

"Admiral Questar-Benn," the Woman said.
Remarkably, she appeared to be in late middle age but
undeniably healthy and close-knit. "Commodore
Tellin-Makie, of the batdecruiser Santayana."

"Oh, God is great, God is Merciful, God is One,"
Amos murmured through numb lips. "Bethel?"

"Don't worry. It's a big navy. We hit them as they
were getting ready to leave. Reports show not much
damage to the planet since you left, if you're Benisur
Ben Sierra Nueva."

"Keep firing!" Joseph barked to the others at the
barricade. "You can die just as dead winning as losing."

The commodore laughed shortly. "Profoundly
true," he said. "Simeon, Ms. Hap, all of you, you've
done a very good job. Heroic, in feet We didn't expect
to find anything but bodies and wreckage."

"It was a close-run thing," Simeon said feelingly. "A
damned dose-run thing." Both the officers seemed to
find that amusing.

"Here's my record of the whole thing, start to finish,"

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

413

said Channa and the Navy officers* eyes turned. Evi-
dently they had video of her. Amos hissed a low
complaint, and three more holos joined the image of
the Santayana's deck.

"We've still got a lot of t%e pirates in station," Channa
said. "Should we back off?" She swallowed. "Alotof our
people have been hurt"

"Negative," the admiral said, shaking her head.
"Give them time to think, and sure as death and fete,
one of them will find a way to blow the station. I've got a
Marine regimental combat team in the transports.
We'll forcedock as soon as I swat the Kolnari warships.
That battle platform could be tricky."

The commodore leaned out of the sight picture and
spoke to someone else. "Well, then, get the destroyers
toenglobe it, then!"

"It's not over until it's over," Questar-Benn said.

"Er... not the Questar-Benn?" Simeon asked, awed.

"Not if you mean Micaya," she said dryly. "I'm the
dull sister, the straight-leg." She glanced down at the
data flowing in from SSS-900-C. "Bastards. Murdering
sub-human mutant swine. Maybe now the inbred
penny-pinching High Families incompetent corrup-
tionists back at Central will get their thumbs out of
their backsides and let us do something about Kolnar
and all its little offshoots."

"Ma'am," Tellin-Makie said warningly.

"I'm not bucking for another star, Eddin," she said.
"I can afford to tell the truth without a bucket of syrup
on it" She looked up and out at the stationers. "Here's
what we want you to do," she went on crisply.

God, Amos thought. Thank you. For victory, and for
someone else to tell him what to do for a change.
Leadership could get very tiring. He suspected Fate
was going to send more of it his way. The prospect did
not seem as attractive as it once had.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

415

CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE

"I never understood what he meant before," Simeon
said, looking out at the huge docking chamber which
held only the dead, now in covered silent rows. "I
thought I did, but 1 didn't."

The medics and their patients were gone, to station
sickbays or to the trauma stations of the warships.
Equally silent were the motionless Marine sentries who
stood with weapons reversed by the Navy dead. The
squad at the docking airlock snapped to attention as
each shrouded body went by. The civilians looking
among the stationer dead were nearly as quiet, only a
few sobbing faindy.

"Understood what who meant?" Channa said,
blinking behind the dark glasses that hid her
bandages. She appeared detached, almost aloof, just
like the two Navy commanders who stood with her
and the little group of stationers.

"Wellington," Simeon said." 'Idan'tknowwhatitistolasea
battle; but certainty nothing can be more painful than to gam one
with the loss ofsomanyfriends.' He said that after Waterloo."

The admiral nodded. "I remember when I found
that out," she said very softly. "If you've got a grain of
sense, you never forget it."

"Ain't that the truth!" Patsy Sue Coburn said. Beside
her, Florian Gusky put his synth-splinted arm com-
panionably around her shoulders. She stiffened, then
forced herself to put up a hand and pat it gently. "You
don't forget anything. But you learn to live with it.
C'mon, Gus. I do believe you owe me a drink."

Channa turned her head toward their footsteps.
"Yes," she said, with a bitter smile. "We learn to live
with it. If this is heroism, why do I feel like such crap?"

"Because you're here," Questar-Benn said.
"Heroism is something somebody else does some-
where far away. In person, it's tragedy." Her voice
sharpened. "And it could be worse, much worse, and
would have been but for you. We did win. You are here.
And," she went on more lighdy, "you're heroes in the
media, at least Which means, by the way, you can write
your own rickets."

"Tickets?" Simeon asked.

"You always wanted a warship posting, didn't you?"
she said. "With this on your record..."

Simeon hesitated. Joat had been standing by
Channa's side, quiet and drawn. Now the old coldness
settled over her face, and she began to edge away.

Everyone's always left her, or cheated her, or hurt her, he
thought

"I'm not so sure," he said aloud, "that I want a
military career any more."

Admiral Questar-Benn nodded vigorously. "That
makes you more qualified. They shovel glory hounds
out of the Academy by the job-lot and we have to spend
years breaking them of such fatuous nonsense."

"Besides, I have a daughter," and his instant and
totally gratifying reward was the dawning of hope on
Joat's face. "Thanks, though. Maybe, someday." Some
dreams don't transfer well into reality, he told himself. He
could see Joat's chest lifting with the deeper breaths of
self-confidence and she didn't look about to disappear
on him.

"And have you soured on Senalgal?" the com-
modore said, turning to Channa.

"It's still a beautiful world," she said, shaking her head
slowly. "But it* s not my home." She reached down to Joat
beside her and, touching the girl's face with her fingertips,

416

Amu McQffiey & 5M. Stirling

felt the slightest of resistance to such fondling. Learning to
trust, and to be a human being, was not something that
came quickly or easily. But you had to begin somewhere or
you never arrived. "Besides, Joat's my daughter, too. And
I've friends here, the best there are£

Questar-Benn threw up her hands. "Simeon, you're
going to be around a very long time. The offer still
stands, I'll leave it on record."

"Hey, Pops," Joat said, her voice a little unsteady
despite the cocky tone. "I mean^ww, Simeon."

"Great Ghu! Canjunt, of all people, not think a more
suitable title than 'Pops' to call me?" Simeon demanded
in a semi-indignant tone, but he would have settled for
anything of a familial nature from Joat.

"Sure, but I don't think you'd like to know 'em!" She
smiled her urchin grin in his image. "Any rate, I'm
gonna be sixteen standard in a few years. Enlistment
age. And I don't want you blaming me for screwing up
your career plans. I... I'd sort of Uke to keep this from
happening to somebody else, you know?" She turned
to the admiral. "Think these brass-a... um, general-
type people might have a use for me?"

Questar-Benn shuddered. "I'm probably perpetrat-
ing horrors on some unsuspecting commander left to
deal with you in the future, young lady, but yes. I'd be
very surprised if we couldn't find a use for all of you."
She swept the present company with her piercing gaze.

"Then we may take you up on that offer," Simeon
said. Although he was too enervated to enjoy
thoughts of revenge, no amount of emotional
exhaustion could remove the need to do something
about the Kolnari: next week, maybe. "But right
now, I'd rather call in the gratitude as a favor, if you
don't mind, Admiral," Simeon said.

"Favor? For who?"

"A friend," he said. A holo grew, of a boy about
Joat's age.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

417

Joat started violently. **Seld! They wouldn't let me
see ya, said you were sick!"

The figure nodded. "You knew that. You know I've
been sick a long while, Joat," he said with the incredible
batience of the chronic in valid. "Only it went off the
screen. I can see this," ancfne looked down at his frail, fimp
body, strapped in an upright position on the bed, *1>ut I
can'tfeelanything or move it, ordoanything, really."

"Oh, damn!" Joat moved a hand through the holo as
if she could reverse the damage somehow.

"The navy medicos have got me hooked up to a
nervesplice monitor, to keep my heart going and stuff.
Simeon himself," and now he managed a proud grin,
"is hacking into it"

Joat blinked. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I
shouldn't've called you a wuss. I heaved my cookies
afterwards, too. I guess it's my fault, hey? Expecting
you to do more'n you could, should!"

"Nah," Seld on the holo said. "I was stupid, you
know. You could do all those things I couldn't, and I
was... hell, Joat, I was gonna end up like this anyway,
sooner'r later. Grudly, but I knew it. Dad knew it, but
he sort of didn't at the same time. I've had a lot of time
to think about it."

Joat nodded, then narrowed her eyes. "Those caps
were the final push, weren't they? Why'd you use one?"

"'Cause I was so scared of seeing you get killed, Joat.
You're my best friend. Besides," he went on, "that Kolnari
Lord'd just belted me real hard. Then... I tell you, the
ultimo grudly," and Seld rolled his eyes in disgust, "when
he teserfme.solwantedsomeofmyownback."

"Yeah," and Joat nodded in approval, "you would
at that!"

"That's when I had a fit. Would have happened
eventually, really it would, Jo. Dad says another ten
years, max."

Joat looked around at the Navy officers. "I don't

418

Aim* McQffivy fe? SM.. Stirling

think that's good enough. Can't you guys better the
odds for 'm? Doesn't he deserve more than ten years?"
Her hard voice cracked a little.

Questar-Benn winced and the commodore focused
his eyes on something else. ^

"I never get used to this," the commodore under his
breath. "What's the favor, Simeop?

Channa's head came up sharply. "Simeon? You've a
suggestion?"

"1 do," Simeon said in such a positive, you-should-have-
known-I-would tone of.voice that he commanded
everyone's attention. "I've been checking around and the
AtexHypatia-1033 told me about new tricks that Dr. Ken-
net Uhua-Sorg*s been working on. No oneÑyetÑis able
to regenerate the spinal nerve sheaths. Kenny Sorg
developed a prosthesis Ñ for himself, incidently, but it'll
suitSeld'sparticularrequirements,too. Kid, you're too old
to be a shellperson: you'd never psychologically adjust
Kenny Soig's condition is about the same as yours and he
gets around just fine," and Simeon projected a holo of a
man, moving down a corridor but too smoothly to be
"walking." He "walked" upright, true, but his body was
framed by an slender exo-skeleton which held him erect,
with his feet on a platform, similar but much thicker than
the station float disks. The base ingeniously held the
power supply and monitoring equipment. "I'm told, Seld,
that you'll have use of your arms and the base is sophisti-
cated enough to do as much for your body as my shell does
for me. Long as you don't try slipping dirough ventilation
ducts or falting headfirst out of services hatches, you
should last as long as most softshells, skeleton man!"

In this instance, Simeon's rewards were many: Joat
jumping up and down, gurgling with laughter while
tears streamed down her face, as well as Channa's, and
Seld crowed like he'd turned rooster. There were
expressions of intense relief on the faces of admiral and
the commodore.

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

419

"I do like to see alternative solutions," Questar-Benn
said, "and we'll put a naval courier B & B ship at the
disposal of Seld and his father for transfer to the
Central Worlds Medstation where Dr. Sorg is currendy
practicing. Is that the f$vor you wanted, Simeon?"

"The very one," fhe station replied.

"Frabjus, Skelly Seld," Joat was saying to Seld, "111 be
right down and we can celebrate together," and she
waved a jaunty farewell behind her as she left.

Exhausted as much by this unexpectedly felicitous
outcome as the weight of problems still to be resolved,
Channa sank back into her float chair.

"One more on the up side," she murmured to reas-
sure herself. "Simeon, I'm sort of tired. Could you... ?"

The others murmured apologies and moved aside
while Simeon guided her chair away.

"A moment then, Amos ben Sierra Nuevo," Questar-
Benn. Amos turned in surprise, shot one anxious look at
Channa's disappearing figure but had no choice but to
give the Admiral his attention." If you'd be good enough to
accompany the Commodore and me to our quarters..."

He was as glad as they appeared to be to leave the
sad ambience of the cargo bay, though only one more
of his shrinking band of Bethelites lay there.

The Admiral and Commodore noted his interest in
the interior of their flagship and explained as they
walked through the maze, absently accepting salutes or
nods as they passed details of men and women hurry-
ing about their tasks.

None of the Central Worlds' ships had taken much
damage though the battle with the desperate Kolnari
warships had been fierce, if brief. The guided tour was
enough to make Amos wonder anew how Guiyon had
managed to get the old Exodus anywhere, much less
reach SSS-900-C.

He was sighing in semi-despair for all the problems
he now faced in giving his poor plundered planet even

420

Anne McCaffrey &SM. Stating

a semblance of the efficiency and expertise Central
Worlds took for granted.

"Ah, yes, here we are, Benisur..." the commodore
said and Amos with suitable humility corrected him to
"a simple Amos, sir." "We've been Aceiving updates of
aflairs on Bethel and have need of your assistance."

Five men and women were seated about the lounge,
the two youngest Ñ a man and a women in their early
twenties, jumping to their feet at the entrance of
Admiral, Commodore and their guest

"Here he is, gentlefolk^'Questar-Benn, "Benisur
ben Sierra Nuevos, aka Simeon-Amos and the putative
leader of the Bethelites."

"No, no," Amos said, shaking head and hand to deny
that title. He didn't want that mantle laid on his
shoulders. Not now.

"As you will, young man," Questar-Benn said curtly,
"but you were the leader of the dissidents as well as the
defender of Bethel and we need your input." Then
while Amos continued to demur, she overrode him by
introducing the group. "Senior Counsellor Agrum of
SPRIM, Representative Fusto of MM, Observer
Nilsdotter, PAs Ferryman for SPRIM and Losh Lentel
for MM. Simeon, are you here?"

"I am," Simeonsaid, his voice issuing from the comuniL

He might have warned me, Amos thought sourly. BtU
perhaps swiftly done is best done. He gave them a dignified
greeting, hand to heart and mind. The young woman,
the Observer, was both startled and charmed.

Suddenly he was seated and stewards were passing
among the group with drinks and finger foods.

Perhaps, I'm merely light-headed with hunger, Amos
thought, feeling the better after a sip of a sustaining hot
drink and a sample from the plate of delicacies offered.

"Quite simply, ben Sierra Nuevo ... all right then,
Amos," the senior counsellor began with no more
to-do, "we need your help to reassure those elements

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

421

of your people who managed to hide away from the
Kolnari. They are terrified and not about to take the
word of any strangers even when we holo-ed every sur-
face with 'casts of the Navy taking Kolnari prisoners."

"And making themsinload all die loot they'd stored,"
said die beetlebrowed Representative Fusto. He looked as
if he had personally overseen that operation and enjoyed
it. He had a narrow face and close-set eyes in a narrow
head set on shoulders much too muscular in contrast

"Some of my people survived?" Amos tried not to
wince for this only reinforced the inevitability of his
return.

"Specific figures number the survivors as 15,000...."

The population Ñ the former population Ñ of this station,
he thought, unable to suppress a groan.

The Observer misinterpreted it with a smile of great
sadness and understanding. "Your people have been very
brave and suffered terribly. We of SPRIM and MM," and
she pointed to the other four, "are empowered to assist die
reconstruction of your world...."

Amos groaned again. So much to be done. And his
people would resent the intrusion of infidels, no matter
how well intentioned.

"We cannot, of course, interfere with the govern-
ment of any planet," Agrum said, clearing his throat
and giving the woman an admonishing glance, "but
humanitarian aid certainly fells in our jurisdiction and
we are able to provide whatever supplies and materials
are needed on an interim basis."

Beetle-brows Fusto gave his opposite number in
SPRIM a dark look. "MM requires you to survive on
your own efforts but we prevent exploitation of
minority groups for any reason whatever. We prefer to
establish contact with a senior government official,
preferably elected by the minority in question, but you
qualify Ñ according to Simeon Ñ as the logical and
most accessible representative."

422

Arme McCaffrey fcf SM. Stating

for this I thank you, Simeon, Amos said, hoping that no
one, especially the Observer, would hear him grind his
teeth.

"Your planet got pretty well razed to subsoil," the com-
modore said. "'S going to take hetpto restart," and he, in
turn, gave the MM official a quelling look, smiling at Amos
as if to say "they mean well but they're heavy-handed."
"We had to put up a transmitter," and he shrugged as if
such a facility was a mere notibing, "and die engineers put
up a temp at the space fieldÑwhich is littered with a lot of
hulls, some of which could'well be refitted for whatever
lunar mining would put you back on-line mere."

A transmitter and space facility? Re-usable hulls for
the craft the Kolnari had fused. Amos began to feel less
despondent, though half of him resisted.

"Humanitarian aid will be sufficient to see your
people through the on-coming winter," Agrum went
on, "using whatever shelters your culture prefers..."

"We cannot land alter-culturals on Bethel, of
course," Fusto half-interrupted, "but orbital staff is not
considered by Central Worlds Authority to com-
promise indigenous integrity..."

"If you wish, you may request additional colonials of
your own persuasion..." from Nilsdotter.

Amos turned from one speaker to the other, half dazed.

"Give the kid a break," Simeon said suddenly. "Why
don't you let him read the reports so he knows what
you're talking about, huh?"

"Of course," said SPRIM.

"Our intention, I assure you, Station Simeon," MM
said defensively.

"Then let it be so," Admiral Questar-Benn said, smil-
ing encouragingly at Amos as she handed him several
disk files and led him to another room where he could
digest the information in private.

"Not over until it's over," the Admiral remarked to

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

423

the commodore as they watched the sometimes con-
tentious delegation leave their quarters.

"And it's never over," Tellin-Makie replied, pouring
them both snifters of brandy in the flag quarters. "I
didn't have the heart to remind them that those aren't
the only bunch of Kolnari running around loose."

"And if you leave a pair, they breed up again," she
said wearily. "They know that. Which is the reason I
suspect we'll have Simeon and the others on die rolls in
a couple of years. The Kolnari will be a menace as long
as two of them are left alive."

"The Psych people swear they can be rehabilitated."

"Rehabilitated to E equals M and C squared," she
said, taking a sip. "Dam" cockroaches." Another sigh.
"Maybe this little atrocity will get us some resources."

"For a while, until the general public become inured
to these particular atrocities," Tellin-Makie said, "then
we can go back to peeing on bonfires. It's not as if they
were the only serious problem, either."

"Would that it were so. Would that it were so, my friend."

She looked at the screen, which showed an exterior
view of SSS-900-C. Repair servos and suited figures were
already working on some of the more urgent damage,
though it would be a generation before the devastation
was fully repaired. She made a mental note to have En-
gineering help out while the task force was on station here.

"All in all, though, I'm glad we don't have their
problems, poor heroic sods," she said.

"Amen."

"Yes, yes," Joseph said eagerly when Amos finished
telling him of the help promised by SPRIM and MM, up
to and including a Brain Planetary manager to replace
Guiyon. "Wemustreturnasquicklyaspossible."

"Yes, you and Rachel must"

"Rachel and I?" Joseph repeated, staring in sudden
alarm at Amos.

424

ArmeMcCajfiq& SJtf. Stirling

"Yes, because there is much to organize on the
ground before we may accept the beneficence..."

"But it is you, Amos ben Sierra Nuevo, who must
return!" Joseph's face was stricken. "Itisyour duty. Our
world is but a lake of mourning. They need^ow. They
need a heroÑand their Prophet"

Amos paced, hands behind his back, clenching and
unclenching, up and down the floor of his room in
Simeon's quarters.

"They need a hero, granted, Joseph," he said, stop-
ping in front of his friend, "but if I am a hero, then so
are you!"

"Me?" Joseph laughed. "I am your henchman. Your
right hand, and proud to be so. Your friend, and
prouder still of that But you are the prophet, the hero,
the one the people follow."

Amos took him by the shoulders. "You are my
brother, as truly as if the same mother bore us."

Joseph blinked as Amos drew him into the double
cheek-touch of close kin to emphasize his words. "And
it is you who will return while I deal with these infidels
and make certain that what charity they would foist on
us will not weaken our people but allow them to
become strong in such ways that no other scavenger
can ever catch us unawares." Who saves the saved from the
savior* he thought

"And I ... I wonder," Amos went on aloud. I
wonder if it is good, that the new leader is of the old
Prophet's line Ñ may God smile on him! Too many
generations have the people followed the old families."
He winced. "And followed them to ruin."

"You would lead us to greatness!" Joseph said forceful-
ly. The more so if you doubted yourself less, he added to
himself. "You have shown your strengths as a self-
thinker, a defender of his planet, a guileful strategist..."

"History does not show many battle-leaders who had
the same talent for being peace-leaders!"

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

425

"But you are of a peaceful nature until roused to
defend what you hold dear," Joseph said, "even as you
have seen your duty now to protect us against those who
wish to protect us!" Joseph turned sternly grim now. "It is
the blind face of Channa d*t hides your way."

Amos looked so fiercely at him that Joseph turned
his face away, his shoulders sagging in acknow-
ledgement.

"I also cannot abandon these here to whom we, for
our very lives, owe a debt of gratitude. If, in this one
instance, duty and honor are both served, let me serve
it." Amos sighed deeply, torn between love and duty.
"Are Simeon, Joat and Channa to be merely a chapter
of my life because fourteen generations ago the
Prophet fathered my many-times great granddather?
We saw on Bethel what comes of that"

"Yes, Amos, in all truth we did. And you are right to
wish to be indebted to all," and Joseph laid a subtle
emphasis on the word, "the stationers even though the
need for your special role is now over."

"Yes, that is over. In its place, I must assume several
roles and do each well in all honor." Then he gave the
younger man a sudden smile, the sort that had always
drawn the required response from any recipient "And I
give Rachel the chance to restore honor to her name."

Joseph gave him a sudden stare as fierce as the one
Amos had given him. "What do you mean?"

"She was, after all, trained as an infosystems
administrator. It is her duty to assist you in calling our
people from their hiding places, to organize the
reports that I must receive to know what is most
needed. With you two side by side Ñ that is what you
wish, is it not, Joseph? Rachel by your side?"

The younger man laughed and blushed, which
seemed to embarrass him more.

"You know it is what I wish but, Amos, do not blame
her for what she did."

426

ArmtMcCaffrty&SM. Stating

"I do not," Amos lied stoutly, "but she will need to
redeem herself in her own eyes!"

"Ah, yes," said Joseph with a sigh. "She is anxious to
do that. She talks to me about it," he went on in a softer
voice. "She talks of you but she aldb talks of you to me."

"Then go to her, Joseph my brother, my friend. If you
insist on making me wear the mantel of a leader, then I
have issued an order to you. But think also of what I have
told you, brother hero. You return to Bethel as my brother
and my equal, not my retainerÑnot even first among my
retainers. The time forthoae petty protocolsis past"

"I go," Joseph said. He turned on the threshold.
"And you, too, have earned a litde happiness, I think.
God willing, may you find it!"

Channa had insisted on returning to her brawn's
quarters, pointing out that there was nothing else
Chaundra or his staff could do for her in sickbay.

"I'll be much better off there," she told him, "because
I know my way around. Simeon can remind me where
I put things so I can find what I need. Only time will
make a difference now."

Once Simeon had angled the chair float beside her
satin-draped bed, she lay down, not seeing, not speak-
ing, absorbing the most recent events. Not that she
wasn't overwhelmingly relieved that Seld had been
granted a reprieve. But there were so many decisions
to be made, hanging in the air, over her head, where
she could feel them, even if she couldn't see them. She
could feel a trickle down her cheek and, with a gesture
she hoped masked the real reason, she blotted the
cheek on the gray satin cover.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Because Simeon had picked exacdy the appropriate
light tone, she gave him a wan smile though she wondered
how he had noticed such a small thing as a tear

"I've none to sell," she said, "justbits and pieces float-

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

427

jug around. Like, Happy endings suck the galactic muffin.
It's enough to give you a headache."
"D'you have one?" Instant concern colored his voice.
"No, no," she said, shaking her head on the pillow.
"Look, Channa, youlwfl be all right," he said in the
firm tone one uses when one is hoping against hope
one's statement is correct.

She nodded once sharply, minding her temper and
her manners. "Yes, I'm sure I will." Her voice was tight

"I've scanned every report I could find on this kind
of temporary blindness, Channa," he went, infusing
his voice with confidence. I'd give anything to be able to
hold you in arms and comfort you but all I've got is voice con-
tact. Talk to me, Channa. "Worse scenario and you'll still
see Ñ through my sensors. Remember that, Channa.
And I see real good and wherever I need to!"

She had stiffened and cut through his opening
words in a rather shrill voice. "Simeon, spare me the...
Could you do that for me?"

"Sure," he said, both surprised and testy. "But surely
you knew that You've been using my senses for the last
two weeks!"

Her jaw dropped and then a tremulous smile
crossed her lips. "So I have, haven't I?" she said in a
broken voice. After a moment's silence, she added in a
contrite voice, "I owe you, and everyone else an apol-
ogy, for acting like a self-pitying wuss!"

"Well, after all, you've had quite an adjustment to
make."

"But I didn't have to snarl at you."

"Oh, that? I wouldn't know how to answer smartly if
you didn't Don't break that habit, Charma-mine."

Her smile was stronger. "Then I certainly won't"

"Because you like the challenge, don't you? And, by
and large, I'm good company."

"And so modest"

"So witty and intelligent," he reminded her.

428

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Slitting

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

429

"And so handsome."

"Do you really think so?"

"Oh yes," she said, "I especially like your dueling
scar, that's a nice touch."

"Thank you," he said, gratified. ""Sfeu're the first per-
son who's ever mentioned it I've been waiting for years
for someone to ask about it. Sometimes people think
it's dirt on the projector lens."

She grinned. "It goes well with the baseball cap."

He paused a moment, unsure, "Um..."

"No, really," she assured ftim, "That projection's a
perfect portrait of your personality. It's not based on a
chromosomal extrapolation, is it?"

"Naw," he said, putting a grin in his voice. "It's me as
I want to be. I'd have hated it if an extrap of me came
out with a receding chin and a big nose, so 1 never tried
to find out. I'm Simeon, the self-created!"

"Wise," she agreed, "very wise."

The door opened and Amos stood on the threshold.
"Channa!" he cried out in a passionate voice.

She sat bolt upright on the bed, her lips parted in
surprise. "I thought you'd left."

He rushed to her side and drew her into his arms.
"How can I leave you like this?" he said, stroking her hair.

Simeon cursed under his breath. Leave it to Amos to
undo all his hard work. Just when fve got her cheered up and
back to something near hernffrnudÑforherÑframe of mmd.

Channa put up a hand, found Amos' face and leaned
forward to kiss him, smiling because she had caught
the corner of his mouth and was working her way into
a position that satisfied her.

When the long kiss ended, Amos said with a sigh,
"You want me!"

No, you ass! She wants a double malt and a ticket to "Death
in the Twenty-First." Would that I had hands, Oh Amos ben
Sierra Nueva, to clout you up alongside the head with.

Channa didn't answer but held her head as though

looking at Amos through her bandages. Amos smiled
at her, the smile of a man who believes he can
accomplish anything, a smile that proclaimed the
beai^r to be the recipient of a miracle.
" I came to ask you to come with me," he said, laughing.
"You did?" she said ina dreamy tone. They kissed
again, more deeply, Channa burrowed deeper into his
embrace, sighing like someone relieved of a pain they
did not know they suffered.
"I love you, Channa," he said.
"I love you, Simeon," she murmured.
Amos stiffened. Channa raised her blind face to his
and whispered huskily again. "I love you."

He released her and moved back. She hesitated and
turned her head from side to side. "Amos? What is it? Is
someone here?"

"Yes,"he said stiffly, "someone who comesbetween us,"
Puzzled, Channa reached out blindly with one hand,
the other resting on Amos's chest. "There's no one
here but us. What are you talking about?"

"Simeon," he said the name with a hiss. "For whom
you have just declared your love."

Her face altered abruptly fromjoy to chagrin. "I... I..."
shebegan in confusion.

"A gentleman of the Sierra Nueva does not intrude. I
am in the way," Amos said, flinging off her hands and
jumping to his feet. "I will leave you alone together."
And he was gone.

Channa swung her legs from the bed and lunged
after him. She moved with unexpected speed and
before Simeon could warn her, she crashed into the
wall, just beside the door. Weeping, she stepped to the
right point and the door opened for her.

"Amos! Wait!" she shouted and this time Simeon
opened the outside door but she paused on the
threshold to get her bearings and heard, all too dearly,
the elevator's dosing.

430

Arme McCaffrey &f SM. Staling

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

431

"Amos! Don't go!" she cried, and heard it engage.
She stood leaning her head against the metal, sobbing
gently, tears soaking the adhesive synthetic of her
bandages.

Inside the descending lift, j4teios leaned his head
against the wall, Channa's desperate voice echoing in
his mind. Almost, but not quite louder than her
whisper Ñ "I love you, Simeon."

"Where do think you're going?" Simeon asked him.
He straightened and gritted his teeth. "To the
docks," he said crisply. "I>must return to Bethel!"

Simeon gave a dramatic sigh. "And who's to go
between Bethel and SPRIM and MM? Who saves the
saved from the savior?"

Amos was aghast at hearing his own thoughts come
back at him from Simeon.

"Someone has to handle them," Simeon continued.
"Rachel can. She's a trained infosystems spe..."
"Rachel!" Simeon roared in surprise. "She wouldn't
know how to handle them. They'd twist her up into lit-
tle knots. Not that she isn't twisted right now."
"They say they cannot interfere..."
"They say, they say," Simeon chanted back at him.
"Use your wits, Amos, and don't suggest Joseph. He's
the guy you need on the planet, coaxing your people
out of whatever lairs they've hidden in. No, you're the
only one who can be johnny-on-the-spot here!"

"What I do now is my business," Amos said in a snarl-
ing tone. "You have no right to interfere either ..."
Only then did Amos notice that the elevator had
stopped moving. He crossed his arms. "So, do you
mean to hold me prisoner here until Joseph, Rachel
and the others have left?"

"Emotionally you've been a prisoner since you got
here. Why do think I went to so much trouble to get
SPRIM and MM involved with Bethel?"

"You did. But the Admiral and the Commodore..."

"Listened to what I had to tell them, which is more
than you ever do. You've got to be here..."

Outrage, indignation, disgust and fury raced
unchecked across Amos' fece. "So? You admit it**

"Huh?"	*

"You admit that you only wish to make of me a sex
toy," Amos cried passionately, "a surrogate for yourself
with Channa!"

"I what?" Simeon's voice reverberated in the con-
fines of the small chamber. "You are bughouse!
Which is probably why it's such an interesting idea,"
he added in a reasonable, half-amused tone, "but
you said it, I didn't. However, it's not on my behalf
you've got to be here. It's Channa's. She really is in
love with you, Amos. Can't you get that through
your arrogant to-the-manor-born head?"

"Loves me? Loves me? Then why does she embrace
me and say, I love you, Simeon?"

"And, of course, she hasn't been calling you Simeon-
Amos for the past intense two weeks, has she?"

"BanchutT Amos smacked his forehead with the fiat
of his palm, his expression one of utter dismay.

"It sure wasn't me, or my holo, or even the shell of
me she was kissing just now! Cut her a litde slack. She's
been blinded, dammit! She's scared, she's exhausted,
she's under pressure. Don't cut the heart out of her for
a slip of the Up!"

"A slip?"

"A slip! You ego-centric rag-head selfish bastard!"

"But you love her, too!" Amos brandished his fist, glar-
ing about him to find a target for his frustration and wrath.

"Yes, I love her. Just as much as you do. No, probably a
lot more. And yes, she's in love with me a little, and I
treasure that But I can't touch her, Amos. I can't hold her
no matter how much I would like to. What are you wor-
rying about?**

"That she dreams of you and wonders what it would

432

AmuMcCaffrey &f SJM. Stating

THE Cnv WHO FOUGHT

43S

be like to be inyour arms." In the confines of the elevator
Amos heard the sound of his angry jealous words echo
back at him. "I think that she would Hke to close her eyes
and hear your voice whisper to her as I make love to her. I
will not be that fantasy for her, no$for you."

"Well, I'll tell you what / think. I think that you are a
dirty-minded, fat-headed, parochial, small-minded,
jealous hunk of pig fat. Just let me give you a taste of
what she's going through and you stalking off and leav-
ing her alone with it."

Simeon turned off the lights in the elevator. Amos
was plunged into pitch blackness; just long enough to
reach the stage of imagining lights and colors to con-
sole himself. The human eye is not meant for complete
darkness. Even on an overcast night with eyes dosed
there is some ambient light

The darkness and motion were disorienting.

And frightening, the Bethelite admitted to himself.

"Stop it" Amos said calmly, but firmly. Simeon didn't
answer. "Stop it, I said," a trace of unease creeping into
his voice. An accident, who would doubt his word?

Simeon brought the elevator to a halt

"It's unpleasant, isn't it?" Simeon asked quietly.

"Yes," Amos said shordy, sullenly. "Please, would you
turn on the lights?"

"Channa can't," Simeon observed. "It's possible they
won't come back on and she'll have to get a prostheses,
one of those devices they set into your face. Yup, things
could look like this to her forever."

"What do you want me to do?" Amos demanded. "I
would give her my sight if 1 could."

"That's a safe offer," Simeon observed contempt-
uously, "she wouldn't accept such a sacrifice even if it
was needed."

"Then what would you have me do?" Amos was
nearly shouting now, flapping his arms hard against
his sides.

"Something a lot easier. Hold her. Just put your arms
around her and hold her close. You softshells need
that. I never had it so I don't miss it"

Amos shifted position, silent

"{ would hock my shel^if I could physically comfort
her B ut I can't. I can make sure she gets what she needs
from the one person she'll accept it from. And let me
tell you something, lordling, even to comfort Channa, I
wouldn't want to stay a softshell. You're cripples next to usl
You realize that? We have senses, abilities, that you
can't even begin to imagine. But yes, in this one area, I
am jealous of you. Despite that, I arranged... yes, noble
being that / am... arranged for you to have to stay on
this station to handle all the detaik the Bethelite leader
will have. So that you could also comfort the woman we
both love. There I've said it aloud!

"I've done all I can, Amos," and now Simeon's voice was
tinged with a helpless note. "I've been with her since she
was brought to the hospital I haven't left her. When she
wakes up, I wish her good morning and mine is the last
voice she hears at night I'm die one who guides her safely
across a room. I'm the one who tells her that what she's
looking for is a litde to the right I'm the one who makes
sure she gets her meals. I've put up with her bouts of
temper and self-pity and I've talked her through her mo-
ments of panic I'm with her constandy. But you walk into
the room Ñ at long last I might add Ñ and it's like I've
never existed. Did you see her? She lit up like a star going
nova. Andyou have the gall to walk out on her!"

Simeon turned the lights back on and Amos
squinted briefly as his vision adjusted.

The door opened and Channa raised her head, half-
disbelieving she heard the sound of his step, the
eagerness with which he approached her.

"Oh, Amos!" She reached out her arms tentatively
toward him.

434

AimeMcCaffrzy fc? SJVf. Staling

"Ah, Channa," and Amos took her hands and pulled
her into the circle of his arms. This only I may do, he
thought possessively, proudly and yet, because of that
brief darkness, sadly, too, because Simeon would never

have this.	*

¥
I'm sorry. Forgive me," he whispered, stroking

her hair.

Channa sobbed once and tried to apologize, the words
stumbling over his, but he stopped her with a kiss.

Simeon watched them enter the lounge, but decided
not to follow them. This is going to be tough enough, he
thought, / think I'U work up to it gradually. But wasn't it a
great game I played ?

"Before... 1 came to tell you that I must stay longer
on the station than we had thought," Amos said.
"When I must return to Bethel..."

"Stay?" and the gladness in her face and voice reas-
sured Arnos as no argument from Simeon ever would,
how much Channa did indeed love him.

"Stay ... for now," he said, trailing caressing fingers
around her lovely face. This, too, I may do that he caTtnot.

"For now?" Then a return of her deep and genuine
fear caught at his heart.

"I must return to Bethel," he said slowly. "I have
obligations there."

"I have them here. I can't leave Simeon or Joat,"
Channa said piteously.

And Amos knew that she also meant these quarters
which she knew even in her blindness, and this station
which was surely now as much her heart's home as
Bethel was his.

"Neither can I leave my people, my planet Nor do I ask
such sacrifice of you," he said, using die force of his per-
sonality to reassure her. He smiled down at her, thumbs
caressing the velvety skin of her temples. She searched his
face with her fingertips and smiled in response.

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

435

"But several times in every year, I must return to this
station on the business of my people and my world," he
went on. "That, I may in all conscience do." A wry
shrug. "If my people cannot do without their prophet
now and then, then I will not have taught them well.
Perhaps the day will c&ne when they need no man to
stand between them and God, and I will be free to raise
my horses and roses in peace."

Her face lit. "And I could visit sometimes, couldn't
I?" she murmured.

"With Joat," Amos said, and then in a far more per-
suasive and loving tone, "although it is not well for a
child to be alone, without brothers and sisters..."

"Yes," she laughed as she sensed the change in his
stance, falling formally to one knee but before he
would speak. She held him upright with her hands.

"In a matter such as this, I should ask permission of
your father," Amos said, rising and drawing her close.
"But Simeon will do."

She fisted him lightly under the short ribs. "I'll speak
to Simeon on my own behalf."

"We will then both address Simeon the Father. But,"
Amos said in her ear, after a time. "There is one condi-
tion."

"What?"

"You must never call me Simeon again." She drew her
head back and nodded solemnly. He touched her chin
gently. "You may, however," he went on, wishing for once
that Simeon was listening, "call me Persephone."

EPILOGUE

The chills were less now, and the survivors recovering,
although a quarter of the crew had died of the fever and more
gone mad.

Belazir t'Marid clenched his rattling teeth against a
paroxysm as he fay in the darkened bridge, while the Dreadful
Bride fled outward all alone.

"Someday," he whispered.

THEEND