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fleet people who had acted on the information the Bureau had supplied.
The hows and whys of the intelligence coup got no play. The details could not
be divulged for security reasons. The agents responsible would receive
decorations.
 You re a dip, eh? Max whispered.
Perchevski shrugged. The near-worship in her face astounded him.
 I had a kid brother, Walter. He got hooked on stardust.
 Oh. He checked the time and was surprised to find that it had not been
dragging after all.
The CSN insisted on presenting Captain von Drachau to Confederation s
billions. Jupp accepted his decorations reluctantly.
 Instant celebrity, Perchevski mused.  Instant millionaire. And they won t
remember his name in six months.
 Why re you so sour? Max demanded.  You ought to be kicking your heels. Look
what you did.
 I know what I did. I was there. Let s talk about something else. What about
that Polar Flight airmail set you ve been promising me for the last two
years?
 I bet you get a ton of prize money. How much? Do you know yet?
 No. I didn t know about the raid till tonight.
 You ll be able to buy my whole shop.
 Probably. He had won prize money before. He was, by most standards, a
wealthy man. He did not realize it. Money did not mean much to him. He could
buy whatever he wanted when he wanted it, so economic problems never intruded
on his life.
 Aren t you excited?
 No.
 I am. When are we going to the Darkside digs?
 I don t know. I think they re going to put me to work. He had come to a
decision. He was going home. To his birthworld. One last time. Maybe there,
where not one person in a billion gave a damn about Sangaree, or the March of
Ulant, or McGraw pirates, or anything else going on offworld, he could get
away from himself.
And maybe he could refresh his memory of just what it was that had sent him
into a life he so loathed now. Maybe he could relearn what the choices were.
The show for the benefit of the holonets wound down. Then came the private
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postmortem, when he and Mouse shook hands with the mighty and received their
medals and prize-money estimates.
Max patiently waited it out.
 You should have gone home, he told her when he finally broke away.  You
can t spend your life waiting for me.
 I wanted to. I m coming with you. She squeezed his hand.
 Sonofabitch, he said softly. His mood skyrocketed.
He had been firing on her for years. She had teased and led him on with
smiles and gentle touches and had never given in. The occasional friendly date
was as close as he had ever come.
Max made it a rewarding evening after all.
Eleven: 3048 AD
Operation Dragon,Danion
BenRabi groaned when he cracked an eye and saw the time. Noon already. He had
wasted half his recreation day.
He flung himself out of bed and into the shower. Minutes later he was
shuffling hisJerusalem papers, trying to find where he had left off.
The door buzzer whined.  Damn! I just got started. It s open.
The door slid aside. Jarl Kindervoort, Amy, and a half dozen unfamiliar
Seiners grinned at him. They wore gaily colored period costumes. Moyshe
laughed.  You look like refugees from a blood-and-blades epic. Except for one
little fellow way in the back, grimy-gruesome in Billy the Kid regalia.  What
the hell? Is King Arthur aboard?
 It s recreation day, Moyshe, Amy said, using that smile that melted him.
 We decided to drag the old grizzly out of his den.
How could he stay angry in the face of that smile? It was so damned disarming
and warm.  I was going to work on the story. She had been impressed by his
being a published author.  Anyway, I haven t got anything to wear. He
realized they were offering him something. He grew wary.
 Eh? Kindervoort asked, cupping his ear.  What s that? No matter, Moyshe. No
time for it. Come on. We re late for the party now.
Amy chanted,  We re late, we re late, for a very important date . . . 
Kindervoort caught Moyshe s arm, pulled him through the doorway. He ignored
benRabi s protests as he led him along a passageway crowded with young Seiners
in wild costumes, zigging and zagging through to the common room serving as
the landsmen s cafeteria, gymnasium, rec room, and lounge. It was a big place,
but today Moyshe felt the walls pressing in. He had never seen it so crowded.
Most of the landsmen were there, lost among five times as many curious
Seiners. The mixer had been going awhile. It had gotten organized. Not far
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from the door, at a long table where a dozen chess games were in progress,
benRabi spied Mouse and the harem he had recruited.
 Where does he find the time? he murmured.
Kindervoort and Amy herded him toward the table.
 Hey, Mouse said.  You dug him out. You have to use explosives?
 He gave up without a fight, Kindervoort replied, laughter edging his voice.
 Who should he play first?
 Now wait a minute . . . 
 Get serious, Moyshe, Mouse snapped.  You re going to go Roman candle
freaker if you stay locked up. Come on out and say in to the world. Go on down
there and beat the guy at the end of the table.
There was a tightness around the corners of Mouse s eyes. And an edge to his
voice. Moyshe recognized a command. He moved down the table.
He did not like being pushed, but Mouse had a point. The mission was not
dead. He would not get his job done sitting in his cabin.
He took the empty seat opposite the youth at the foot of the table, smiling
wanly. His opponent had black. Moyshe opened with king s pawn. Four moves.
 Checkmate. He could not believe it. Nobody fell for a fool s mate.
 Good, Moyshe, Amy said over his shoulder.  Tommy, wake up. Moyshe isn t a
subtle player. He s more your kamikaze type.
BenRabi turned.  Really? She was leaning on the back of his chair. Skullface
Kindervoort and his troops had vanished.
 From the games I ve seen you play.
Tommy s mouth finally closed. The swiftness of his defeat had shattered him.
 Let s say that s just for practice, Moyshe said. Tommy smiled weakly.
 Too generous of you, he murmured.  I deserved what I got.
BenRabi beat him again, easily, but took longer. Then he moved up the table,
playing Seiner after Seiner, quickly, and one landsman whom he had beaten
before. The Starfishers, while enthusiastic, were even less subtle than he. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]