Explorer

Long silence. Jenrette shook. He outright trembled, in the shock of a real injury, but Bren didn’t find himself in the least sorry for the man who’d been a long-term traitor to three captains, his own comrades, and the ship’s whole crew.

“Well,” Jase said, “so what you wanted, Mr. Jenrette, isn’t happening. We’re undertaking the steps to let us board passengers. We’re shutting Reunion down. And if you want to find a way out of your situation, you’d better start trying. Mr. Cameron, do you have any questions for him?”

Bren had not the remotest idea what questions Jase wanted asked of the man, but Jase, sitting on his well-known temper, probably didn’t trust himself to find all the requisite threads at the moment. He didn’t have specifics, but he had keys, and if he could only open a door to information, he hoped Jase might find a wedge to keep it flowing.

“Mr. Jenrette,” Bren said quietly. “Mr. Jenrette, I’m relatively sure you’re quite adept at leaking information. Maybe you dropped just enough hints to provoke Tamun to turn on Ramirez; and Tamun killed your partners, which was why you swerved about and turned on Tamun. I’ve no doubt you were at Ramirez’s ear for years. I’m relatively sure if anything aboard this ship for the last twenty years has skewed off course, your fingers are somewhere in it. All these things I believe are the truth, but they’re all past. What is important is that we’re going to get the fuel we need, we’re going to get everyone off the station that we can persuade aboard, and then we’re going to have to blow up the station with everyone that’s left aboard—your Guild, foremost. Probably our senior captain and your latest colleagues in her bodyguard, but she knew the risk she ran, and I’m sure you did. After we blow it up, we’re going to take our alien guest over to his people, and take what agreement we can get and go back where we came from. That’s what we’re going to do, Mr. Jenrette. But you know what we came here to do. And I’m sure you’ve told the Guild. Why of all things did you think you could walk back in here and be believed, with me, and with Captain Graham? Or was that the job Guild leadership gave you? You’d lost your usefulness with Sabin: she was onto you. So they just made a last-ditch try and sent you here—because if you’ve hired a traitor, you don’t go on using him. You find someplace to send him where he’ll be taken care of. Unhappily, we’re the only other place there is. You’re supposed to do some sabotage. Use your skills on their side. Never mind what you contain. What you know. You’ll be a good follower, and die trying. Then Braddock won’t have to meet you again.”

Jenrette stared him, jaw set, full of anger, and said not a word.

“If you’d stuck with Sabin,” Bren said, “you’d have had her ear. But you’ve thrown away your influence. Sabin did have reservations, exactly as you do. The dowager respects the senior captain: atevi would have listened to her as a strong voice for her point of view. But you’ve silenced her. You’ve silenced all the voices of human dissent. Thanks to their own mismanagement, the Guild likely will fall; Ramirez is dead, and Sabin may not survive. Tamun, in his rebellion—he didn’t do what you wanted. He decided Ramirez was lying, when most of the lies were yours. Between you, you and Sabin and Tamun, I suspect you kept Ramirez from ever trusting us with the whole truth. How am I doing?”

“Go to hell.”

“Pretty well, I’ll imagine.”

“Listen to me,” Jenrette said. “Listen to me! All we have to do to get out of here is for him to answer Guild rules. Then we’re all away free, with no trouble.”

For Jase—to surrender Phoenix and come under Guild command.

“Meaning Sabin’s also refused the Guild’s orders,” Jase said. “Interesting.”

“It’s your choice.” Jenrette swung round toward Jase. “In a post you don’t remotely qualify for. You’re no captain of this ship. You have no right.”

Jase shook his head with amazing patience. “The stakes are too high, Mr. Jenrette. And trust me, your hand isn’t nearly high enough. Sabin tried to help you—maybe knowing all the while you’re a Guild agent. And look what she got for her trouble. It’s damned lonely being your friend, Mr. Jenrette.”

“Shut up.”

“You know, Braddock himself may have figured you’re always on your own agenda, and that’s not a wholly useful agent: Bren nailed that, didn’t he? You’re a total fool, but you always know better than your captains, than the Guildmaster, than everybody. Consequently you’re no use to anyone. So Braddock sent you here. Best use for you.”

“Taylor’s bastard,” Jenrette spat. “You don’t have the answers. You weren’t born with any answers. You aren’t God. Just existing doesn’t make you anybody , Graham. Not anybody!”

“Take your pick,” Jase said. “I’m sure, if your devotion to the Guild is that strong, Mr. Jenrette, we’ll let you go join Mr. Braddock. He may even remember your name, and he might even keep his promises to you—even if he hasn’t kept them with his own station population.”

“On the other hand,” Bren said, “if your convictions aren’t strong enough to die with the Guild—maybe you aren’t so convinced that’s the best course.”

Jenrette wouldn’t look at him. Not at either of them.

“Make your decision,” Jase said.

“What kind of deal?” Jenrette asked. Not, one noted: I see the light. I change my ways, but: What kind of deal? It was possibly a glimmer of truth.

“You want a pardon?” Jase said.

Jenrette looked at Jase—interested for about a quarter of a heartbeat; then very, very wary. That face he saw wasn’t genial Jase Graham, usually silent second to Sabin. It was Jase Graham who’d stood in the aiji’s court and held his own with the lords of the Association.

“I’m putting you outside,” Jase said quietly. “And there’s only one way you’ll get back aboard. And that’s if you bring the senior captain, alive and well, with every one of her escort.”

“I can’t do that,” Jenrette said.

“Because she’s dead?”

“No. I don’t think she’s dead. But look at this.” Jenrette demonstrated his wounded arm. “You’re sending me out there to get me killed.”

“Mr. Jenrette, I’m not sending a station shopkeeper to do this job. I’m sending a covert professional, who’s managed throughout his life to be secretive. You’ll find a chance to get to her. You’ll have a wider chance as the panic spreads and as the station loses its perso

“Sir.”

“Are your reinforcements outside?”

Polano cross-checked on his com-set. “Yes, sir, they are.”

“Then take him out of here. Get the arm treated. Then put him out into the mast where you found him.”

“Free, sir?”

“He doesn’t come back aboard unless he’s in Captain Sabin’s company.”

“Yes, sir,” Polano said with satisfaction. “Yes, sir .”

“Mr. Jenrette,” Jase said nicely, with a little wave of his hand. “Go with Mr. Polano and company. Goodbye and good luck.”

“Damn you,” Jenrette said, and got to his feet. And clearly thought about a move.

Polano showed him the door. And after a self-preserving second thought, Jenrette turned and walked to the door.

There were half a dozen men outside, ordinary crew, armed, and backing up Polano.

The door stayed open a second or two after Polano and Jenrette left, and shut.

“He may do one thing,” Bren said, “or the other. Fifty-fifty he reports to Braddock.”