Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil
- Автор: Зан Тимоти
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Random House
- ISBN: 9781473596580
- Жанр: Боевая фантастика
Электронная книга - «Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil». Краткое содержание книги:
The present communication stop, though, wasn’t that one.
And Jixtus wasn’t doing any cackling.
“You understand, Your Venerante, that this is a potential problem for both of us,” Jixtus was saying. “Your fleet must remain secret until the time is right to announce the Clarr family’s newly enhanced status among the Nine. If Captain Roscu talks about it to anyone, it could spark resistance among your enemies. Perhaps even panic.”
“First of all, I’m as surprised as you are that the Orisson was even out in the Junkyard where it could see your ships,” Patriel Rivlex’s voice came over the Whetstone’s bridge speaker. “I accept the word of your commander that it was there, but I can’t for the life of me guess why. Captain Roscu’s orders didn’t include any stops along her way.”
“The reason isn’t important,” Jixtus said. “We just need her not to speak of it until you give her authorization. I presume you can send a message to that effect?”
“Of course,” Rivlex said. “Though it may be a couple of days before she gets it. She knows her mission is important, and could easily stay in hyperspace the whole way.”
“Clearly, a dedicated officer,” Jixtus said. The words were complimentary, but Nakirre could hear the growing frustration in the Grysk’s tone. Jixtus had been trying for the entire conversation to get Rivlex to tell him where the Orisson was headed, and so far the Patriarch hadn’t taken the hint. “Perhaps I could assist in your efforts. As you know, I periodically depart hyperspace to retrieve my own messages. If you care to record something I can broadcast, that would double our chances of contacting her before she arrives at her destination.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Rivlex said. “Messages to senior officers and staff are sent via a family code, which I can’t allow you to have. Besides, there’s no need. I’ll simply contact our Patriel on Ornfra with an order for Captain Roscu to contact me when she arrives.”
Under the black robe, Jixtus’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “That should be sufficient,” he said. “Thank you for your time, Your Venerante. I look forward to the day when you announce our new treaty to the Ascendancy.”
“As do I,” Rivlex said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get that message on its way.”
“Of course,” Jixtus said. “May your day hold profit and fulfillment.”
He motioned to Nakirre. “Cease transmission,” Nakirre ordered.
“I obey.”
“So,” Jixtus said, turning his hidden face to Nakirre. “She returns to Ornfra.”
“Yes,” Nakirre said. Ornfra, where somehow Roscu and the Orisson had evaded the asteroid missile trap. “I trust you’ll be able to deal with her before she speaks to anyone?”
“Oh, yes,” Jixtus said softly, and once again Nakirre could imagine an evil smile beneath the veil. “She escaped death once at Ornfra. She won’t do so again.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Thalias had never been to Ool before. In fact, up until she read Thrass’s data cylinder she’d barely even known the planet existed.
During the trip back from Sunrise, though, she’d made it a point to learn as much as she could about the place. Ool had over two billion inhabitants, a rich and diverse agricultural base, several large manufactory groups and thousands of smaller ones, and a fair amount of tourist traffic, especially for its beaches and mountain skiing. It also had extensive mining in some of the mountain spines, including one of the Ascendancy’s only three pure nyix mines.
And situated near a small town, wedged between a modest packbull ranch and a spring-fed lake, it had a scholars’ retreat that the data cylinder identified as Seekers’ Shadehouse.
A place that was totally and ominously absent from all of the guidebooks and location listings she could find.
That part of Ool also turned out to be somewhat difficult for a casual traveler to get to. The nearest interstellar transport landing area was over a thousand kilometers away, the skybus from there to that sector only got her within fifteen kilometers, and the local driver Thalias hired at the depot had never heard of Seekers’ Shadehouse. Fortunately, he was willing to fly her to the Ardok Ranch, which was the actual address Thrass had provided.
The ranch house was situated in roughly the center of the fenced land, with the barns, feed storage, and other outbuildings scattered around it. As the skycar made its descent, Thalias caught a glimpse of a small group of buildings nestled alongside a line of trees between the ranch’s eastern fence and the lake. That, presumably, was the Shadehouse.
A woman was waiting on the ranch house porch beside the front door as Thalias walked up the steps, the skycar that had brought her already headed back to the bus depot. The rancher was dressed in coveralls, boots, and jacket, with a questis hanging at her side on a shoulder strap. “Afternoon,” she said in a cheerful tone. “Welcome to the wilds of Ool. What can I do for you?”
“I think I’ve come to see you,” Thalias said. “My name is Mitth’ali’astov.”
“Nice to meet you,” the woman said. Her voice was still friendly, but there was a hint of caution as she looked Thalias up and down. “I’m Cohbo’rik’ardok, co-owner with my husband Bomarmo of the Ardok Ranch. What did you want to see me about?”
“Let me make sure first that I have the right person,” Thalias said, aware that she was stalling. She knew perfectly well who Borika was; she was just reluctant to carry the conversation where it had to go. “You’re the Cohbo’rik’ardok who used to be Irizi’rik’ardok?”
“Yes,” Borika said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I became part of the Cohbo family when I married Bomarmo.” Her lip twitched in a wry smile. “I hope you’re not here to help the Mitth make a list of former Irizi. That would be a full-life job.”
“Certainly more of my life than I would want to spend on the effort,” Thalias assured her. “No, I’m here to talk about a girl I know named Che’ri, and some problems she’s been having. Am I also correct that before you were Irizi you were Kivu’rik’ardok?”
Borika’s smile faded. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t remember much about my early life.” She raised her eyebrows slightly. “As I imagine your friend Che’ri doesn’t, either.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Thalias said cautiously. “How did you know?”
“Oh, come now,” Borika chided gently. “For anyone familiar with the Seekers program, her lack of a family name is a dead giveaway that she’s a sky-walker.”
“Yes,” Thalias murmured. “Seekers, you said. As in the Seekers’ Shadehouse?”
Borika nodded. “Not its official name, of course. Rather, not the name that’s listed on maps and reference tables. But there are a few of us around who know. How do you know Che’ri’?”
“I’m her caregiver,” Thalias said. “I understand you do some research with the girls?”
Borika’s eyes flicked over Thalias’s shoulder, doing a quick sweep of the horizon. “We should probably move this conversation off the porch,” she said, opening the door and gesturing Thalias inside.
“Thank you,” Thalias said, stepping past her through the opening.
She found herself in a large, homey great room. In one of the near corners a pair of couches faced an entertainment center; in the other, another group of couches and individual chairs were arranged in a circle around an open-air firepit topped by a conical vent hood. At the far end of the room were a dining table and six chairs, with a pass-through to a half-seen kitchen beyond. It was as if the stories of old-time backwoods ease and comfort had come to life. “Very nice,” she said.
“Thank you,” Borika said as she closed the door behind them. “And now, I think you need to show me some authorization.”
Frowning, Thalias turned around.
Borika was no longer just a simple country rancher. Her face was hard and unreadable, her gaze heavy with suspicion as it dug into Thalias’s face.
Her hand rock-steady as it held a charric pointed at Thalias.