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Chapter Twenty-Three

JEFF was in the study center when Lilah brought him the news. Told to stay out of the way while the cleanup and repair work were going on, he had been sweating over the design of Logan empathy circuits. Somehow they used a combination of quantum effects and probabilities to produce classical logic. He had been going crazy trying to understand how they did it, and the interruption was welcome.

"Yes!" He smacked his fist onto the desk when he heard Lilah's news. "I'm going! I wonder what I said that persuaded her? In our last meeting she was like a stone wall."

"Sorry, superman, but you had nothing to do with it. In fact, an hour ago Muv still seemed determined that you wouldn't go."

"Why? She knows I could be useful."

"Useful? Neither useful nor ornamental." Lilah stuck her tongue out at him. She was hyper, a side effect of the nannies that were still doing repair work on her ribs. "It would be too dangerous, Muv said. Too dangerous to you. That's your own fault. You were the one who told us that you were supposed to die when the fleet came."

"That was Hooglich's theory, not mine. I think I was more like bait, to persuade people on Earth that a fleet had to be sent to the Cloud to bring me back. But that's all over, since they surrendered."

"Some people Sol-side may not agree. The story you have to tell could still hurt them."

"It could. And it will. But if your mother insisted that I couldn't go, and now I can . . . ."

"Don't thank her, or me. Thank Simon Macafee."

"You've seen him?"

"I sure have. He wandered in when Mother and I were eating breakfast, and announced that he ought to head Sol-side, and you should go with him."

"But he's the one they were after in the first place. He's the key to the Anadem field, and he's halfway to understanding the sounders."

"Exactly what Muv said. If he goes, how do we know they won't keep him and pick his brains forever? Simon didn't turn a hair. He said he'd be perfectly safe, and so will you. But when Muv asked him how he could be so sure, he just gave her that patented blank look. You know the one."

Jeff, recalling those distant, pensive eyes, nodded. "Why does he want to go?"

"He didn't say. But when Muv told him, no, definitely no, he shouldn't go and couldn't go, he looked at me in a pointed sort of way and asked for a private two minutes. Then they threw me out—halfway through my meal. Two minutes, it took more like half an hour, and when I was finally allowed back in my food was cold and everything had changed. Muv still seemed doubtful, but she agreed that if Cloud technology becomes part of a negotiation—and they think it will—she won't be able to handle it. Nobody can but Simon. Nobody else comes close with that scientific gobbledygook you two love so much."

Jeff felt sure that the last comment came from Lilah, rather than her mother. But he was feeling too pleased to protest, or to worry much about the reasons for Connie Cheever's change of mind. "I'm going," he said again.

"I know you are. Lucky beast, you don't have to rub it in. But you have to make me a promise—two promises."

"Sure. Anything." In his present mood, he meant it.

"First, promise that you'll come back."

"Of course I will."

"Good." Lilah grabbed his arm and started to swing herself around him, then grabbed at her rib cage. "Oof. Can't do that yet. And promise that when you do come back, next time you go to Earth you'll take me with you."

"It's a promise."

The pledge came out easily, and Lilah's answering smile was like the sun; but as Jeff spoke, he felt the chill of doubt. In a day or two he would be shipping back to the solar system and to Earth, to clear his name. He was certainly innocent. But suppose that he was not believed—that it came down to his word, alone, against the combined accusations of Eliot Dufferin and Cousin Myron and Uncle Giles?

Then he would face, at best, a court-martial and a dishonorable discharge from the navy. He would not be going to the Messina Dust Cloud—or anywhere else—for a long time.

 

That had been eight days ago. On the flight from Confluence Center to Node 23, Jeff's worries about what lay ahead strengthened. Once, his biggest worry in life had been acceptance into the Space Navy. The idea of dishonorable discharge—to a Kopal, the ultimate disgrace—had never occurred to him.

Now he had to fight to prevent it.

Again and again, he went over in his mind the statement that he would make at his hearing. He did not propose to offer one word more or less than the truth. But how would his accusers testify? Captain Dufferin would certainly present his own actions in the best possible way. That meant he would blame Jeff for what had happened to The Aurora, while the only people who could refute that and support Jeff's version of events were Russo and Hooglich—neither of whom would be present.

It did not help that Jeff was left to himself for most of the journey. Connie Cheever and Simon Macafee were on board, but they barely acknowledged his presence. They huddled aft in private meetings, only emerging for food and sleep. On the one occasion when Jeff caught Simon alone, he held out the card left with Billy Jexter and tried to ask what it meant.

Macafee was clearly in a hurry. He cut Jeff off in midsentence and grabbed the little oblong of plastic from his hand. "I wanted you to have this in case I didn't come back. I did come back. So now you don't need it. I'll take it."

"But what was I supposed to do with it? And what does the card mean?"

"Nothing important."

Simon stared right through Jeff as though his mind was already elsewhere. He pushed on past.

"That's a constellation on the card, isn't it?" Jeff bobbed around again in front of Simon. "The Dragon, as it's seen from the solar system."

"Oh." Simon halted. "You know that, do you?"

"Hooglich told me."

"Well, then." The eyes focused, and Simon's mouth took on a shy smile. "You have everything. You just need to think about it."

"But I don't know—" began Jeff. Simon slipped around him and hurried along the corridor, at a pace that suggested he would not tolerate more delay.

Jeff gave up. Now he had neither understanding nor the card. He headed in the opposite direction from Simon, to the forward observation bubble. The ship had completed its deceleration from Cloud travel speeds and was creeping toward the node. Jeff stared impatiently ahead at the shimmering orb.

When they finally matched position and velocity, he did not dread the disorienting spinning and stretching that would accompany the node entry. He welcomed it, as evidence that eight days of nagging worry were soon to end.

His own top priority was clear. As soon as they emerged into Sol space he headed for the communications center. Trying to send messages to Earth from the Messina Dust Cloud was a waste of time, a signal took twenty-seven years to get there; but now they were in the Kuiper Belt, Sol was visible as a bright beacon in the sky ahead, and a signal would reach Earth in less than half a day.

He had worked hard on the message and cleared it with Connie Cheever. It was going to his mother, but Connie was sure that others would also see it—every word from the ship would be analyzed by the Sol authorities, in preparation for meetings with the Cloud representatives. Even if Jeff swore that he had nothing to do with those meetings and would not be allowed to attend them, no one would believe him.

His brief message said only that he was well, that he hoped Mother had recovered from her operation and was feeling better, and that she was not to worry about him no matter what she might have heard. When she knew the full story she would realize that he had done nothing to bring dishonor to the family name.

He hoped for a reply, but he told himself not to expect one. Earth communications with the arriving ship would surely be tightly censored. It was a shock and a wonderful surprise, three days later, to hear over the ship's general-address system that a message for him had been received from Earth.

He was sitting again in an observation chamber, this one close to the rear of the ship. After they reached a point inside the orbit of Mars, the vessel had turned for its final deceleration and insertion into Earth orbit. Earth and Moon were already visible, a brilliant pair of mismatched sister worlds.

The recorded message carried video as well as audio signal. Jeff asked the communications system to pipe it through to the observation chamber's display, and waited anxiously and impatiently while that was done.

When his mother's face appeared, he felt a double shock.

It was great to see her again, but he remembered her as she had looked when well. With her lung operation over, he had hoped to see her that way again. He was forced to remind himself that although he felt like he had been away for years, only a couple of months had passed. Florence Kopal's scarred face was as pale and drawn as when he saw her last, and now it bore a new nervousness and intensity.

"I am at Kopal Manor." She began abruptly, without a word of greeting. He wondered, Had the message been edited?

"Jeff, I am very, very sick." Her voice sounded weak and full of self-pity. "I don't know how long I have. Please come and see me. Come as soon as you possibly can—or you may be too late."

She opened her mouth to speak again, but the screen went blank.

Jeff ordered the message to be played again, and then a third time. He watched and listened closely, but could draw few conclusions. His mother did not look well, that was true enough. On the other hand, she was clearly much better than when he had seen her last. Earth's surgical procedures could not compete with the nannies of the Messina Dust Cloud, but Florence Kopal was no longer struggling for breath. Her pallor suggested tension and worry more than terminal illness.

He needed a second opinion. He went to the cabin where Connie Cheever and Simon Macafee held their meetings, and sat down cross-legged on the floor in the passageway outside.

He was prepared to wait as long as necessary, but after only a couple of minutes the cabin door slid open.

"What do you think you are doing?" Connie Cheever stood staring down at him.

"Waiting." Jeff scrambled to his feet and noticed for the first time the tiny monitor that sat above the door and scanned the whole passageway. Connie probably had continuous reporting of anything that happened, anywhere in the ship.

"I wasn't trying to listen in on your meeting," he added, and decided as the words came out that only someone who was trying to eavesdrop would say that.

"I don't care if you were or you weren't," Connie said. "I don't like you sitting there, you're a distraction. What do you want?"

"I had a message. From my—from Earth. It seems straightforward, but I don't think it is. Can I show it to you?"

Connie said nothing, but motioned him into the cabin. Simon Macafee was leaning against a bulkhead, eyes closed. With anyone else, Jeff would have assumed that he was asleep. With Simon, it could mean anything.

Still without a word, Connie gestured to the wall display. Jeff called for the message, Simon at last opened his eyes, and the three watched in silence as Florence Kopal's short message was repeated.

"That's all?" Connie said at the end. She was frowning.

"That's the whole thing."

"Again."

Jeff played the message over. At the end Connie said, "Simon?"

Macafee had closed his eyes again and had apparently lost interest. "Obviously edited," he said dreamily. "But I think she did something very clever. My guess is that right after what we heard, she deliberately said something that she knew would never be allowed to get through to this ship. It concentrated the censor's attention on that."

"And they cut out the wrong bit?" Connie said. "In any case, there's no point in puzzling over what isn't there. Let's think about what is." She turned to Jeff. "You know your mother, we don't. But you saw something wrong with her message. What was it?"

"Mother was whining. She never whines, no matter what happens to her or how much she hurts. She said she was very sick and hinted that she is dying. But she looked a lot better than the last time that I saw her."

"Then we'll discard that part of the message. Is your mother smart? Don't be nice to her, be objective about it."

"She's very smart."

"The way she handled the message censors supports that," Simon added.

"So what are we left with? Do you think it might be a trap set by your aunts and uncles, Jeff?"

"I don't think so." Surprisingly, it was Simon who answered. "They know we hold Myron Lazenby, the son of Giles Lazenby, captive on a navy ship in the Cloud."

"True." Connie turned to Jeff. "Let's hear it one more time."

He played the message through again, and she nodded.

"Leaving out the tone of the message, which you say rings emotionally false, we are left with something very simple. It is important that you, Jeff, go to Kopal Manor—and as soon as possible."

"What do you think is happening?"

"I have not the slightest idea. But if you want a guess, I'd say that the news of our arrival in the solar system, with you aboard this ship, might be a key factor."

"Will I be allowed to go to Kopal Manor?"

"I see no reason why not. Your hearing before the navy board won't take place for several days. You can't run away, and if you had wanted to, you would never have left Confluence Center. If anyone asks questions you can wave your mother's message in their face. Ask them if they want to deny a dying mother's last wish to see her only child."

"When can I leave?"

Jeff expected Connie to answer, but to his surprise she turned to Simon. He nodded toward another of the cabin displays. It showed that the ship was closing fast on Earth, the pattern of Africa and Asia already visible as brown smudges on the blue-white globe.

"Four more hours. Then we'll be parked in low Earth orbit and you can take a shuttle down." Simon turned back to face Jeff. "Any objection if I go along with you? When you live out in the Cloud, Earth seems like a kind of fantasyland. I'd like to pay a visit."

Jeff didn't mind at all, though he felt sure that Connie would object. But here was another surprise. She was nodding agreement.

"I only wish I could come with you and wander around," she said. "Everyone in the Cloud is curious to know what Earth is like, and we don't often have a chance to find out. But I'm the formal head of the party. I'll be visiting Earth, and my movements have been orchestrated. Official functions and boring dinners, no fun at all. But Simon ought to take the chance while he has it—everything will turn hot and heavy once the real arguments start."

Jeff was convinced that he was missing something. Connie was agreeing with every one of Simon Macafee's suggestions, when common sense insisted she should veto any proposal that Simon wander around freely on Earth. After all, this was the same man who had been so uncontrollable in the Cloud. He might say and do anything.

Connie's next statement added to the feeling of topsy-turvy logic. "I think," she said, "that it would be a good idea if the two of you stayed together. At least at the beginning."

Which meant, of course, that they would travel together to Kopal Manor.

Jeff regarded Simon and saw him with new eyes. Dress code and grooming in the Cloud were, to put it in the nicest way, of low priority. But even there, amid the grimy jinners, the dusty and disheveled Simon Macafee stood out as an eccentric. How would the long hair, casual clothes, and tangled beard fit into the elegant and polished—and, let's face it, terminally snobbish—ambience of Kopal Manor?

No need to speculate; a few hours from now, Simon and Jeff were going to find out.

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