ON THE STALK
Through narrowed eyes, Ida watched Lord Fehrle’s black-on-black stealth ship—the Rapier—slip into orbit. It waited there, while supply ships made last minute trips.
She said, “It occurs to me that we could save our bosses a clottin’ load of grief if we inserted a goblin round up his shorts.”
Doc, who was nibbling on a bowl of frozen hemoglobin berries, snorted contempt. “Violence. That’s your Rom genes speaking. Your answer to everything is violence, followed by more violence.”
Ida sniffed. “Nothing could be further from the truth,” she said. “It’s a well-known fact that we Rom prefer light fingers over hard fists.”
She waved a bejeweled hand at the glittering red pustules in Doc’s breakfast bowl. “You should talk. You can’t wait to cuddle up to a mark and drain him of every drop of blood. That’s your answer to universal peace. Blood sucking.”
“Ah’m loathe t’ admit it, my furry mukker” Alex broke in, “but ah think uir tubby little sister hae a wee point. Ah’ve got aches an’ pains in every puir bone in mah body. An’ that can only mean one thing: A big fat bludy war.”
He shrugged. “Ur a big clottin’ solar st’rm.”
Sten grimaced. Watching Lord Fehrle dash across the tarmac from his grav car to his ship left a bad taste in his mouth. Even though they’d been unable to big ear his meeting with Wichman, he had no doubt that the Tahn overlord had more nasty tricks up his sleeve than a Prime World pol.
“Every time I lay eyes on that sorry excuse for a being I get the shivers,” he said. “Unfortunately, we don’t have kill orders. In fact, we are to keep him alive at all costs.”
Ida brightened. “Well, the good news is that if Alex’s bones are right we’ll all get stinking rich. Because I’m going to put every penny we can beg borrow or steal into war mongering industries.”
She called up a document in one corner of the monitor. It was an undecipherable mess of legalese.
“Just give me your okay, including power of attorney, and I’ll put your money to work starting the next pay period.”
Doc sneered. “Money, in case that part of your moral education was neglected, isn’t everything.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ida challenged. “Name one other thing.”
“It’s a weel-known fact a life that aw Scotsman ur romantics,” Alex said, placing a hand across his brawny chest. “So ah’d say love… pure sweet love… is more important than money.”
“Do you want to be rich, or spout Bobby Burns love poems to mice and lice all day?” Ida said.
Alex eyed the document. Wary. But tempted.
“Will ye really make us rich, lass?” he asked.
“Have I ever lied to you, Alex?” Ida pressed.
“Frequently,” Alex said.
“Oh sure, I’ve lied about little stuff, but nothing major,” Ida said.
“I recollect thae ye almost killed me a coople a times,” Alex said.
“But not on purpose,” Ida said.
“Nae. Ah don’t think it was oann purpose,” Alex said.
Doc snorted. “I can’t believe this woman,” he said. “Be warned. She’s lying through her teeth right now, Alex.”
“Admit it, Doc,” Ida said. “I may have bent the truth a bit, but I’ve never lied to you about money.”
A long silence.
“Have I?”
“Oh, sign the bludy thing,” Alex said. “Ur we’ll never hear th’ end of her infernal gypsy yappin’.”
He made an impression on the monitor with his thumb. Sten shrugged, then made his own print. On matters of money, he always bowed to Ida.
After a long time—with Doc’s luminous eyes fixed on her—she sighed. “Okay, Doc, I’m not going to force you to do anything against your will.”
She started to close off the monitor.
That’s when Doc broke. “Wait a minute,” Doc said. “Don’t be too hasty.”
He slid off his stool and waddled over to the monitor. Jabbed his furry thumb into the indicated space on the monitor.
“Reverse psychology doesn’t work with me,” he said. “You didn’t’ really want me onboard did you? Well, I’m onto your game. Remember—the next time you try to pull a fast one, that I’m the Shrink around here.”
“Sure, Doc, sure,” Ida said. And with a small smile on her face, she closed down the screen.
But her hands had barely left the keys, when the monitor began blinking.
Ida frowned. “It’s Mitzi,” she said.
Everyone crowded around the console. Sten nodded at Ida, who made the connection.
They heard loud voices and sounds of a struggle.
Someone shouted, “No! I’m not going! I refuse!”
Sten frowned. It sounded like Gregor.
Then Mitzi’s voice came in, faint and full of static. Ida fooled with the connection and the static lessened.
“Can you hear me, Sten?” she asked, voice just above a whisper.
“I can hear you. Go ahead.”
“Some kind of a big deal is going down,” she said. “And the Tahn want Gregor as their guarantee. As their hostage.”
“Drakh!” Sten said, thinking fast. “Okay, look, hang tight and I’ll send Mk’wolf’s team to extract you.”
“No, no, no,” Mitzi said. “I’ve got it covered. Lord Wichman personally asked me to go along with Gregor to keep him company.”
“I don’t know about that, Mitzi,” Sten said. “Sounds like more than I originally asked you sign on for.”
“Oh, pshaw!” Mitzi said. “I’m having more fun than I ever had in my life. You’re not gonna cut me out now, just when things are getting exciting.”
Sten shook his head. No clottin way. Mitzi was a civilian. Recruited for one mission and Sten had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure nothing bad happened to her.
“Knock it off with negative vibes,” Mitzi said. “I can feel them over the airwaves. I’m going along whether you like it or not.”
Sten sighed. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I just wish we had time to prepare. Set up better a better comm system, at least, so we can extract you on a moment’s notice.”
“Well, if wishes were wings, and all that,” Mitzi said. “Just trust me, Sten. At least this way you’ll have a pair of eyes and ears on the inside.”
Ida broke in. “Mitzi,” she said. “I’m sending you a quick software update that’ll boost the strength of your comm.”
“Fantastic, Ida,” Mitzi said. “I knew you’d be on my side. Grrl power all the way!”
Ida grinned at this. “One thing,” she said. “I can keep on updating you no matter where you go. Find a quiet place every day at say, Five Bells, and I’ll push through the booster and get your report.”
“Done and done,” Mitzi said.
There were more shouts. “Get him! Hold him! Don’t let him get away.”
“Gotta go,” Mitzi said. “I’m needed.”
The last thing they heard before she keyed off was Mitzi saying, “Come on, honey bunch. This will be fun. An adventure. And little Mitzi will be with you all the way.”
Then the connection was cut. On the monitor they saw Fehrle’s ship break away from the last tender. Caught in the grip of the first stages of hyperjump it hesitated a moment. Shimmered. Then disappeared.
Ida and the others looked at Sten.
He shrugged. “Guess we’d better talk to Mahoney,” he said.