Nimisha's Ship
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Nimisha's Ship». Краткое содержание книги:
When Nimisha takes an experimental ship on a solo test flight, something goes horribly awry, marooning her light-years from home on a planet as deadly as it is beautiful. Now the ruthless members of a rival branch of the Rondymense family are given the chance they've been waiting for: to reclaim the Ship Yards by any means necessary.
Only Nimisha's ingenious child, Cuiva, stands in their way. But for how long? For just when her daughter needs her most, Nimisha is in a precarious situation herself--and unable to help. But Nimisha has never given up in her life--and she's not about to start now . . .
"Lady Cuiva will never be in our way, Lady Rezalla." When Caleb saw a scowl beginning to form on her aristocratic features, he hastily added, "Nor will her position in society, despite her youth, be forgotten."
"Gratifying indeed." Lady Rezalla rose and extended her hand to the admiral, who had leaped to his feet. "We shall see you at the commissioning, then, when Lady Cuiva will formally launch the Five B."
"Until tomorrow then," the admiral said, bowing over her hand.
"Oh, I have… issued an invitation to Lady Vescuya." Lady Rezalla's smile was subtly vindictive. "She shall see… Cuiva return with me to Acclarke."
"That is all arranged, then," Caleb said. The APG had found a look-alike child to take Cuiva's place.
"Rather a nice child, too," Lady Rezalla said without condescension. "She is to accompany me to an undisclosed location for an extended holiday."
"And," the admiral added, "reappear with you whenever Lady Cuiva must be seen."
"The surveillance will continue, you know," Caleb said.
"Of course," Lady Rezalla replied. "I have no more intention of risking that child than my own granddaughter. Less, if the truth be told, since I have her on trust from her parents. Not that the child will not profit from being in the household of a First Family, you realise."
She had turned so that she did not see the amused glances that the admiral and the commander exchanged.
"Actually," Gollanch said, when she was gone, "Lady Rezalla's solicitors-although I am told most discreetly that they hold a watching brief on the matter-are most alarmed. There is a way in which Lord Vestrin could have Rondymense Ship Yard returned to his control."
"There is?" Caleb was shocked. "How? Why?"
Gollanch waved one hand irritably. "Damned complicated body-heir laws. If both Lady Nimisha and her daughter can be proven dead before the daughter reaches her minor majority, the bequest is returned to the main Rondymense estate. Lord Tionel made no other provision. Oh, don't worry. With Lady Cuiva safely on the shakedown cruise, the APG feels certain he can prove Lady Vescuya's duplicity. Or find Lord Vestrin's accomplices in the matter of the mechanical attempts. Hiska, that odd mechanic of Lady Nimisha's, has given the APG some information on five former employees of the Yard who were dismissed for theft. She told Jim Marroo, who has informed the APG, and he agrees that there could be ill-feeling. The men have apparently served their penal sentences and have been seen near the Yard by more faithful workers. The stolen items were valuable, and they are of a temperament to take revenge if they had the chance. However, we're on to them now." The admiral smiled with considerable malicious satisfaction. "We have only to keep Lady Cuiva safe for the duration of the shakedown cruise and the whole matter may be resolved."
"I devoutly hope so," Caleb said, nervous enough to finger the crease of his dress uniform.
The next day was a great occasion with many important government and Fleet representatives, along with the cream of Acclarke's Society, coming to watch the Spacing of the Five B. Although most of Vega III knew that Lady Nimisha Boynton-Rondymense had disappeared and that this second Mark 5 was to search for her, the actual commissioning ceremony did not reflect this. Lady Cuiva duly activated the traditional bottle of champagne-an excellent vintage had been chosen from the Vegan vineyards-which was sent at speed against the prow of Five B and satisfactorily broke, leaving globules of the wine and shards of glass to do a gavotte in space until a patrol could surreptitiously corral them. Lady Cuiva declared, in a firm alto voice neither affectedly adult nor obviously childish, that the Mark 5 B was duly commissioned. The gantry fell away and the tugs pushed her gently, her riding lamps blinking, to her new mooring out of sight of the audience in the spectators' gallery. A naval band played a spirited tune and Lady Cuiva passed among the various senior members of the construction crew-pausing to embrace Hiska-before being shepherded by her grandmother into the private office. She reappeared shortly to accept refreshments. If she was quiet and seemed almost overcome by the crowd, such modesty was expected of a child her age. Lady Rezalla kept her close by, which was also proper. No one saw anything odd in the fact that Hiska seemed to shadow Cuiva's moves, scowling if anyone came near to the child.
Once the champagne reception got under way, no one was in a position to notice the Five B slip its mooring and continue to drift away from the Yard; nor could they see the substitute hull, complete to the ID, slide into the vacated space. When the guests finally made their way to the lighters that would take them back to Acclarke City, they only saw what they expected to see-a Mark 5 prototype serenely moored, riding lights lit and blinking.
CHAPTER 7
Jon and Casper rigged a camouflaged remote device at the meeting place that Ay and Bee had been shown.
"That way we can go check out the fourth wreck," Jon said, brushing sand from his hands with the satisfaction of a job well done, "and still keep an eye on developments here. You don't know what it's like to have facilities and parts again," he added to Nimisha, rolling his eyes expressively.
"From what I saw in your cave-site, you did pretty well at improvising out of available resources," Nimisha replied.
"Needs must when the devil drives," Jon said with a wry grin and a shrug. "There was so much more we could have, should have, taken from the Poolbeg, but we didn't dare try a long journey back after the rocks those damned avians dropped stove in the starboard vents."
"Had you noticed them on the way to the plateau?"
"Noticed, yes," Jon replied.
"Certainly didn't think they were smart. Or organised enough to take offensive action," Casper put in.
"I think they got mad at us for gunning down those we did," Syrona said, shaking her head.
"They were organised?" Nimisha asked, incredulous.
Jon gave a harsh laugh. "Near as makes no never mind. Nimisha. Some came as a group, others whenever they found a rock big enough to do damage."
"Fascinating. Could we call it tool-using?"
Syrona gave a little laugh. "If you stretched the point a long way." She held out her arms as far as they would go. "They sure wouldn't be my choice of sapient beings." She gave a shudder.
"Ay and Bee are nice," Tim said softly, his eyes wide from listening to the adult conversation. "I didn't like the bombers."
"The one I met certainly wasn't friendly," Nimisha agreed, also shuddering at the danger she had survived.
In the false dawn, with the garage lights on so that Jon could check his position, he reversed the gig into the Fiver. Then, as the sky began to brighten with Primero's sun, they set off for the fourth wreck. Helm suggested a triangular approach, to avoid any sighting by the small aliens.
They reached their destination by midday and knew from the cargo pods and other bits strewn across the rocky landscape that no one in the old freighter could have survived the landing. Its cargo, protected by the heavy-duty plastic in which it had been shipped, was another matter. Only a few pods had broken open on impact with the ground and lay scattered about in small heaps, but the main line of pods led directly to the wreck. Helm had only to follow the debris to its source.
"That's an oldie," Ton remarked when magnification showed them the smashed freighter's ID. "Good hundred and fifty years old. Probably was sent out at the time of the Second Diaspora."
"If it was carrying colony supplies, we might find a lot of useful equipment," Casper said, rubbing his hands together in hopeful anticipation.
"Will it be good after so long?" Syrona asked.