Pay Me, Bug!

Chapter 27

WHEREIN Our Hero, Having Returned to the Woods, Pretends He is a Tree

"It shouldn't matter," Grif muttered to himself. "Space is space, right?"

He stared out from the Pilot's Nest into the region of space where they'd dropped and tried to remind himself that some of the stars he was looking at weren't even in Throne space.

"Morgan, you're a scientist."

"Was," Morgan corrected. "Was a scientist."

"Right. In your formerly scientific opinion, how would you define space?"

"How would I define space?" Morgan had, apparently, been expecting the conversation to go in a completely different direction.

"Right. Space."

"It's the big empty thing with all the stars in it."

Grif grinned. "Thanks for clearing that up, old man."

Morgan grumbled to himself.

"How long have you been doing this?" Amys asked teasingly. "Fifteen years at least. And you still need someone to explain space to you?"

"Just thinking, is all," Grif said. "I mean… space is pretty much the same wherever you go. A little more radiation here, a stronger gravity well there… and the stars you see aren't actually where you are. I mean, I know this. But… still. It feels different."

No one replied.

It was, Grif knew, a completely irrational feeling… but from the second they dropped from Tach, everything around him felt… oppressive. It was a trick of the mind, but a distinctly successful one.

"We have bogeys," Morgan said. "Closing fast."

Grif's focus snapped on the tactical display in front of him as Morgan transferred the information to his station. Three ships on an intercept course. "Are we being hailed?"

"Negative," Bennet said. "Not yet."

"I have a visual on the ships," Morgan said. "One Radiant Throne frigate, two short-range warships. All well armed, no big surprise there."

Grif punched the intercom. "We have contact," he said. "All personnel to stations. Ktk, time to hide. Velis, are your people ready?"

A moment later Velis' voice came through the intercom speakers, brisk and businesslike. "All personnel in position. Our gear is broken down and stowed. They'll find it, but they won't know what it is, and they won't care."

Grif hoped she was right. "Good. All hands: when I give the order we switch to our cover identities and we refer to each other by those names at all times until I give the all clear. The Radiant Throne is very good at what they do. Never assume they're not paying attention to you. Out."

He turned off the intercom and slid his chair out of the Pilot's Nest, into the Bridge proper.

"Amys, take the wheel."

He unbuckled himself from the chair and pushed off toward the Navigation station as a blond-haired, apple-cheeked Amys floated toward him. Grif forced himself not to grin at her appearance. She detested that face, and while that amused Grif to no end there was little to gain in provoking her.

Grif strapped himself into the Navigation station and waited, staring at the distorted reflection of his own altered face off the console in front of him. He heard the click of the pilot's chair as Amys slid down into the Pilot's Nest. Then everyone waited.

A moment later Ktk reported that it was secure in the hidden compartment in Bay Three and would wait for the all clear before communicating again.

"I'm getting the signature beacon of the frigate," Morgan reported. "It's called the Redemption."