"If I am called upon to lend my weight to the proceedings, I shall let you go," the ship's drone continued. "Likewise, once I have discharged my duty to Mr Genar-Hofoen and the Special Circumstances section, you will, I imagine, be free to leave. Thank you for listening."
Churt Lyne bobbed into the air and continued where it had left off. "-easonable for once in your pampered bloody life…!" then its voice trailed away. It gave a wonderful impression of being confused, turning this way and that a couple of times.
Ulver's face plate came up. Her face was pale, her lips compressed into a line. She was silent for a while. Eventually she said, "You are a very rude ship. You had better hope you never have cause to call upon the hospitality of Phage Rock."
"If that is the price of your acquiescence to my entirely reasonable requests, then, young lady, you have a deal."
"And you'd better have some decent accommodation aboard this heap of junk," she said, jabbing a thumb at Genar-Hofoen. "I'm fed up inhaling this guy's testosterone."
IV
He wore her down. There was a half-year wait between her being accepted for the post on Telaturier and actually taking it up. It took him almost all that time to talk her round. Finally, a month before the ship would stop at Telaturier to deposit her there, she agreed that he could ask Contact if he could go with her. He suspected that she only did so to get him to shut up and stop annoying her; she didn't imagine for a moment that he'd be accepted too.
He dedicated himself to arguing his case. He learned all he could about Telaturier and the "Ktik; he reviewed the exobiological work he'd done until now and worked out how to emphasise the aspects of it that related to the post on Telaturier. He built up an argument that he was all the more suited to this sort of stoic, sedentary post just because he had been so frenetic and busy in the past; he was, well, not burnt-out, but fully sated. This was exactly the right time to slow down, draw breath, calm down. This situation was perfect for him, and he for it.
He set to work. He talked to the Recent Convert itself, a variety of other Contact craft, several interested drones specialising in human psychovaluation and a human selection board. It was working. He wasn't meeting with unanimous approval — it was about fifty-fifty, with the Recent Convert leading the No group — but he was building support.
In the end it came, down to a split decision and the casting vote was held by the GSV Quietly Confident, the Recent Convert's home craft. By that time they were back aboard the Quietly Confident, hitching a lift towards the region of space where Telaturier lay. An avatar of the Quietly Confident, a tall, distinguished man, spoke at length to him about his desire to go with Dajeil to Telaturier. He left saying that there would be a second interview.
Genar-Hofoen, happy to be back on a ship with a hundred million females aboard, though not able to throw himself into the task of bedding as many of them as possible in the two weeks available, nevertheless did his best. His fury at discovering, one morning, that the agile, willowy blonde he had spent the night with was another avatar of the ship was, by all accounts, a sight to behold.
He raged, he seethed. The quietly spoken avatar sat, winsomely dishevelled in his bed and looked on with calm, untroubled eyes.
She hadn't told him she was an avatar!
He hadn't asked, she pointed out. She hadn't told him she was a human female, either. She had been going to tell him she was there to evaluate him, but he had simply assumed that anyone he found attractive who came up to talk to him must want sex.
It was still deceit!
The avatar shrugged, got up and got dressed.
He was desperately trying to remember what he'd said to the creature the previous evening and night; it had been a pretty drunken time and he knew he'd spoken about Dajeil and the whole Telaturier thing, but what had he said? He was sickened at the ship's duplicity, appalled that it could trick him like this. It wasn't playing fair. Never trust a ship. Oh, grief, he'd just been wittering on about Dajeil and the post with the "Ktik, completely off-guard, not trying to impress at all. Disaster. He was certain the Recent Convert had put its mother ship up to it. Bastards.
The avatar had paused at the door of his cabin. For what it was worth, she told him, he'd talked very eloquently about both his past life and the Telaturier post, and the ship was minded to support his application to accompany Dajeil Gelian there. Then she winked at him and left.
He was in. There was just a moment of panic, but then an overwhelming feeling of victory. He'd done it!
V
The Killing Time was still racing away from the ship store at Pittance at close to its maximum sustainable velocity; any faster and it would have started to degrade the performance of its engines. It was approaching a position about half-way between Pittance and the Excession when it cut power and let itself coast down towards lightspeed. It deliberately avoided doing its skidding-to-a-stop routine. Instead it carefully extended a huge light-seconds-wide field across the skein of real space and slowly dragged itself to an absolute stop, its position within the three dimensions of normal space fixed and unchanging; its only appreciable vector of movement was produced by the expansion of the universe itself; the slow drawing away from the assumed central point of the Reality which all 3-D matter shared. Then it signalled.
[tight beam, M32, tra. @n4.28. 885.1008]
xROU Killing Time
oGCV Steely Glint
I understand you are de facto military commander for this volume.
Will you receive my mind-state?
oo
[tight beam, M32, tra. @n4. 28.885.1065]
xGCV Steely Glint
oROU Killing Time
No. Your gesture — offer — is appreciated. However, we do have other plans for you. May I ask you what led you to Pittance in the first place?
oo
This is something personal. I remain convinced there was another ship, an ex-Culture ship, at Pittance, to which I went because I saw fit to do so. This ex-Culture ship thought to facilitate my destruction. This cannot be tolerated. Pride is at stake here. My honour. I will live again. Please receive my mind-state.
oo
I cannot. I appreciate your zeal and your concern but we have so few resources we cannot afford to squander them. Sometimes personal pride must take a subsidiary place to military pragmatism, however hateful we may find this.
oo
I understand. Very well. Please suggest a course of action. Preferably one which at least leaves open the possibility that I might encounter the treacherous ship at Pittance.
oo
Certainly (course schedule DiaGlyph enclosed). Please confirm receipt and signal when you have reached the first detailed position.
oo
(Receipt acknowledged).
oo
[tight beam, M32, tra. @n4.28. 885.1122]
xROU Killing Time
oEccentric Shoot Them Later
I appeal to you following this (signal sequence enclosed). Will you receive my mind-state?
oo
[tight beam, M32, tra. @n4.28. 885.1309]
xEccentric Shoot Them Later
oROU Killing Time
My dear ship. Is this really necessary?
oo
Nothing is necessary. Some things are to be desired. I desire this. Will you receive my mind-state?
oo
Will it stop you if I don't?
oo
Perhaps. It will certainly delay me.
oo
Dear me, you don't believe in making things easy for people, do you?
oo
I am a warship. That is not my function. Will you receive my mind-state?