Horza switched his gaze rapidly from one woman to the other. Yalson was leaning forward over the table, her eyes glittering
in the mess-
room light, her fists clenched. Her lean body seemed tensed, the golden down on her dark skin shining. Balveda
looked uncertain and
confused. Horza saw her start to bite her lip, then stop.
“I wouldn’t kid you about it, Yalson," Horza assured her. “Horza is alive and well, and not very far away." Horza looked at
the repeater screen
on his suit cuff, where the time showed. “As a matter of fact, I’m meeting him at one of the port reception
spheres in… well, just before the GSV
takes off. He said he had one or two things to work out in the city first. He said to
say… ahhh… he hoped you were still betting on him…." He
shrugged. “Something like that."
“You’re not kidding!" Yalson said, her face creasing with a smile. She shook her head, put a hand through her hair, slapped
the table softly a
couple of times. “Oh…" she said, then sat back again in her seat. She looked from the woman to the man
and shrugged, silent.
“So you see, Gravant, you just aren’t needed right now," Horza told Balveda. The Culture agent opened her mouth, but it was
Yalson who
spoke first, coughing quickly and then saying:
“Oh, let her stay, Kraiklyn. What difference does it make."
“The difference, Yalson," Horza said carefully, thinking hard about Kraiklyn, “is that I am captain of this ship."
Yalson seemed about to say something, but instead she turned to Balveda and spread her hands. She sat back, one hand picking
at the
edge of the table, her eyes lowered. She was trying not to smile too much.
“Well, Captain," Balveda said, rising from her seat, “you do know best. I’ll get my gear." She walked quickly from the mess.
Her footsteps
merged with others, and Horza and Yalson both heard some muffled words. In a moment, Dorolow, Wubslin and Aviger,
gaily dressed and
looking flushed and happy, piled into the mess, the older man with his arm around the small, plump woman.
“Our captain!" Aviger shouted. Dorolow held one of his hands at her shoulder. She smiled. Wubslin waved dreamily; the stocky
engineer
looked drunk. “Been at the wars, I see," Aviger went on, staring at Horza’s face, which still showed signs of being
in a fight, despite his internal
attempts to minimize the damage.
“What has Gravant done, Kraiklyn." Dorolow squeaked. She seemed merry, too, and her voice was even higher than he remembered
it.
“Nothing," Horza said, smiling at the three mercenaries. “But we’re getting Horza Gobuchul back from the dead, so I decided
we didn’t need
her."
“
Horza.
" Wubslin said, his large mouth opening wide in an almost exaggerated expression of surprise. Dorolow looked past Horza at
Yalson, the look on her face saying, “Is this true." through her grin. Yalson shrugged and looked happily, hopefully, still
slightly suspiciously, at
the man she thought was Kraiklyn.
“He’ll be coming aboard shortly before the
Ends
leaves," Horza said. “He had some sort of business in the city. Maybe something shady."
Horza smiled in the condescending
way Kraiklyn sometimes had. “Who knows."
“There," Wubslin said, looking unsteadily at Aviger over Dorolow’s stooped frame. “Maybe that guy was looking for Horza. Maybe
we
should warn him."
“What guy. Where." Horza asked.
“He’s seeing things," Aviger said, waving one hand. “Too much liverwine."
“
Rubbish!
" Wubslin said loudly, looking from Aviger to Horza, and nodding. “And a drone." He held both hands out in front of his face,
palms
together, then separated them by about a quarter-meter. “Little bugger. No bigger’n that."
“Where." Horza shook his head. “Why do you think somebody might be after Horza."
“Out there, under the traveltube," Aviger said, while Wubslin was saying:
“Way he came out of that capsule, like he expected to be in a fight any second, and… aww, I can just
tell
… that guy was… police… or
something.
…"
“What about Mipp." asked Dorolow. Horza was silent for a second, frowning at nothing and nobody in particular. “Did Horza
mention
Mipp." Dorolow asked him.
“Mipp." he said, looking at Dorolow. “No." He shook his head. “No, Mipp didn’t make it."
“Oh, I’m sorry," Dorolow said.
“Look," Horza said, staring at Aviger and Wubslin, “you think there’s somebody out there looking for one of us."
“A man," Wubslin nodded slowly, “and a little, tiny, really
mean
looking drone."
With a chill, Horza recalled the insect which had settled momentarily on his wrist in the smallbay outside, just before he
had boarded the
CAT.
The Culture, he knew, had machines—artificial bugs—that size.
“Hmm," Horza said, pursing his lips. He nodded to himself, then looked at Yalson. “Go and make sure Gravant gets off the ship,
quickly, all
right." He stood up and got out of the way while Yalson moved. She went down the corridor to the cabins. Horza
looked at Wubslin and
motioned the engineer forward toward the bridge, with his eyes. “You two stay here," he said quietly
to Aviger and Dorolow. Slowly they let go of
each other and sat down in a couple of seats. Horza went through to the bridge.
He pointed Wubslin to the engineer’s seat and sat down in the pilot’s. Wubslin sighed heavily. Horza closed the door, then
quickly reeled
through all he had learned about the procedures on the bridge during the first weeks he had been aboard the
CAT.
He was reaching forward to
open the communicator channels when something moved under the console, near his feet. He froze.
Wubslin peered down, then bent with an audible effort and stuck his big head down between his legs. Horza smelled drink.
“Haven’t you finished
yet
." Wubslin’s muffled voice said.
“They took me off to another job; I only just got back," wailed a small, thin, artificial voice. Horza sat back in his seat
and looked under the
console. A drone, about two thirds the size of the one which had escorted him from the elevator to the
CAT
’s bay, was disentangling itself from
a jumble of fine cables protruding from an open inspection hatch.
“What," Horza said, “is
that.
"
“Oh," Wubslin said wearily, belching, “same one that’s been here… you remember. Come on, you," he said to the machine. “The
captain
wants to do a communication test."
“Look," the little machine said, its synthesized voice full of exasperation, “I have fi
nished.
I’m just tidying everything
away.
"
“Well, get a move on," Wubslin said. He withdrew his head from underneath the console and looked apologetically at Horza.
“Sorry,
Kraiklyn."
“Never mind, never mind." Horza waved his hand. He powered up the communicator. “Ah…" He looked at Wubslin. “Who’s controlling
traffic
movements around here. I’ve forgotten who to ask for. What if I want the bay doors opened."
“Traffic. Doors opened." Wubslin looked at Horza with a puzzled expression. He shrugged and said, “Well, just traffic control,
I suppose,
like when we came in."
“Right," Horza said; he flicked the switch on the console and said, “Traffic control, this is…" His voice trailed off.
He’d no idea what Kraiklyn had called the
CAT
instead of its real name. He hadn’t got that as part of the information he’d bought, and it was
one of the many things he
had meant to learn once he’d accomplished the most immediate task of getting Balveda off the ship, and with luck
following
a false trail. But the news that there might be somebody looking for him in this bay—or anybody, for that matter—had rattled
him. He