Tripoint

"You're crazed! You're absolutely crazed!"

"It's my calling. But there's now, and thereafter's such quiet, Chris-ti-an. Hear it. Listen to it. Don't waste time. It's so scarce."

"Don't con me! You knew, you knew what my father was doing!"

"Guessed, maybe. Didn't know. " She hooked his arm with hers. "Last trip of all, maybe. There's something in the dark, I don't know where."

"Sprite?"

"Maybe several somethings. They may take me back, Chris-person. I don't know. There's only now. This liberty's been a bitch. Let's go."

"What—take you back?" She'd met them at this station, she'd come, with what he overheard and what he guessed, with codewords and such she didn't show to customs. She wastheir access to a trade they had to have, that otherwise they couldn't find, couldn't access. A second, perilous grab at Capella's arm, as she turned away. "Have you told Austin this notion? Have you told him?"

"I'm not supposed to have told you. No. This is a confidence, Christian-person."

" Christian, dammit! And where do you get such notions? We aren't even nearhyperspace."

Pale eyebrow quirked. Mouth pursed. "The presence. The spook that's in port. Is that solid enough for you?"

" Canyou feel something?"

Capella had a fey, distracted look for an instant, as if she reached out at that moment, into something he couldn't, nobody could. But the eyes flickered and Capella drew in a sudden, unscheduled breath before she shook her head. "You can convince yourself of anything. No. " She seized his arm and tugged him toward the frontage, and the bars. "I wish we'd see them."

"Who? The spook? This Patrick?—You think they're boarding, now?"

"I say if you find a small ship that is, you know his name."

"Well, look, for God's sake, look at the boards. " He'd been occupied with Hawkinses and Capella wasn't, Capella wasn't concerned with Spriteor Hawkinses in singular or plural, he saw that now.

"I know two names. Because one is, doesn't mean the other isn't."

"You mean there could be a back-up in port? Tell Austin, for God's sake!"

"Austin knows there's danger. Austin's danger is Hawkins. Was, from when you let elder-brother take a walk."

"The hell!"

They'd reached the frontage. Almost the door, and Capella swung around on him, angry, astoundingly so. "Your fault, Christian, andmine, I should have said, and didn't, it looked good, what you were doing, and it wasn't, it had flaws. It had flaws in Christophe Martin, it had flaws in assuming elder-brother's easy, it had flaws all over the place, and my looking for him was very hard, and very scared, Christian-person, so scared I made another mistake, and got attention from this damn spook, who isn't ours, do you follow me?"

Anger whited out half of it. But ourscame through, touching on what he'd tried to understand. Ours. Theirs. Us. The Fleet. "Explain. Explain to me—ours, theirs,—who's us?"

"Mazian's, Mallory's, Percy's… the Fleet's pieces, the pieces that have their own partisans, their own spooks and their own suppliers… you work for Mazian, that's the truth. But not all do. Some ships are dead, Mallory turned coat, the rest… " Capella ran out of breath, and didn't find another immediately. "I'll tell you this. There's two needs here. There's Corinthian, wanting everything the same forever, and there's us, who can't make that happen, Christian, captain-papa won't understand that, but there's those that want me so bad…"

" Why? Because you can do what you do?"

"You might say. Because I know places."

"What places?"

"Places they want. Badly.—I can't let Corinthianget boarded. It's not in my own interest, you copy that? If the captain asks,—make him believe it. And we're ru

It was crazy. He was up to his ears in the Hawkins business, he couldn't think about anything else, but Capella was telling him about waking up the guns they'd used once in his lifetime, about the ordinance Michaels maintained and serviced and kept viable, through all these ship-board years. It didn't happen. A chance encounter on a dockside didn't lead to live guns, when a crazy woman was trying to get them hauled in by port authorities.

But a spook had gone invisible… which could well mean some other ship at Pell was in an una

Hell in a handbasket, that was what it felt like. He wantedto break a Hawkins neck, and two or three others, but suddenly he was perceiving a threat that didn't give him time for that. Austin might not take it seriously. Austin had his mind on Hawkinses, on Marie Hawkins in particular. That was who was ruling Corinthian'smovements. Hawkinses had them going out instead of lying in port until at least they had the advantage of not being a target.

A genuine spook didn't carry cargo. It could overjump them, just traveling higher and faster in hyperspace. It had engines the power of which it didn't admit, and if it decided to beat them out to their next stop, hell…

But Austin wasn't thinking down that track, no, Austin was busy with a woman who'd been threatening to kill him for twenty plus years, and who now wanted her son back…

But Capella had said it when she came back from talking to Austin, and confessing to him what she'd stirred up… that Austin hadn't listened, damn him. Austin had known he could get Hawkins back, and thereforethat became Austin's immediate problem, the one Austin daren't be caught in port with; and damnAustin and his whole elaborate joke… Austin wasn't going to listen to anything beyond that hazard. They couldn't even prove that Marie Hawkins was inbound, there being no reasonable prospect that a merchanter should leave its schedule for one lost crewman. Marie wasn't in charge of Sprite, and Austin was still ru

And after Austin's cheap little piece of humor at his expense, hewas the one who had to get his priorities straight, forget personal issues with Hawkins and cousin Saby Perrault, and listen to the ship's second navigator, who was trying to tell them they could get their butts shot off.

So it was up to him again, save their collective asses by doing what had to be done—talk to Michaels, tell their one-time gu

Michaels would listen. Michaels wasn't the optimist Austin was, the hell with the regs about live guns at Pell.

He didn't want to die at twenty. Didn't want to go up in a fireball. Or, God help all of them, get conscripted aboard a spook.

"We're not on duty. Screw it all. Come on."

He was a willing abductee. Didn't want to deal with Saby, or Hawkins, Austin, or—least of all, maman, until he'd cooled down. Considerably.

They'd come in at the last minute. Letsomebody head-count, and worry—if Austin wasn't blinded by Hawkins' reasonable, dutiful, likeableself.

Got himself a nice, desperate reasonableson, this time, hadn't he? Watch Austin turn on the charm. Austin had it to use. Austin used it when you made him happy and Austin was happy when you said 'yes, sir.'

Austin had won, with Hawkins. Austin had gotten his own way. Damned right Austin liked Hawkins.