view?"
He turned carefully to avoid stepping on a mountain range and pointed. "The lamps are towns, as lit when we pass over them at night. More lamps become a city—like here—and fewer are villages or less. So the blue is a large town or a small city, one with four transmissions from it."
"The pipes are transmission towers?"
He nodded. "The green is the largest city, and I suspect it has an airport of some consequence."
"And that?" She pointed at the metal block in his hand. "Where does that go?"
He hefted it, walked two graceful steps into the map, and very precisely placed it between the coastal mountains and a single red lamp, not far from where he had placed the paper spaceship. "There."
"Fine," Miri approved. "What is it?"
"Us."
She frowned at the map, letting the picture build in her mind. "The idea is to leave the ship in the mountains, then walk down that pass there—if it is a pass—and hope there's some way we can work things out to meet people before we go to town?"
He nodded. "It is the best course of action I can envision, given the limited data we have been able to gather." He sighed. "This is not a Scout ship." He seemed genuinely annoyed with the yacht for that shortcoming, and Miri grinned briefly before walking the perimeter and stepping in beside him.
"When do we land?"
"When the time is propitious," he murmured, idly adjusting the metal block with his foot.
"You figure the propitious time will he soon?" she persisted. "Reason I ask is we only got another two days of fish and maybe three of crackers, and then what we got is water."
"Ah," he said, shifting slightly to take another look at his creation before turning and smiling down into her eyes. "In that case, I would say that the most propitious time is immediately after lunch."
LIAD: Trealla Fantrol
Korval's man of business was closeted with the First Speaker, but before being whisked away he had managed one minor bit of magic and produced a credit history on Miri Robertson, Terran citizen. Shan slid the disk from the old gentleman's fingers with a smile. "Exactly what I was needing, sir. My thanks," he said, and carried it off.
Alone in his rooms, he fed the information to the computer and took a sip from his glass.
Apparently financial institutions did not consider mercenary soldiers good credit risks. There was a string of six "Applied. Credit Denied" before a surprising "Loan granted, Bank of Fendor, one-half cantra to Miri Robertson payable over a period of not more than four Standard Years at interest of 10.5%. Co-signator, Angela Lizardi. Collateral in form of Pension Fund 98-1077-45581 carried by Ilquith Securities. Transaction completed Day 353 Standard 1385."
Angela Lizardi again—apparently a commander who took active interest in her soldiers. And Miri Robertson pledges her pension for half a cantra cash, he thought. I wonder why.
The screen supplied no answer, but it did reflect an exemplary payment record, and then the notation "Balance paid in full, Day 4, Standard 1388."
She earned a bonus and killed the thing, Shan surmised, sipping wine. It was the best she could have done at ten point five. He touched a key and the credit file faded, to be replaced a heartbeat later by an employment history.
1379: APPRENTICE SOLDIER, LIZARDI'S LUNATICS.
The Lunatics had taken and fulfilled a series of contracts on a number of worlds: Eskelli, Porum, Contrast, Skittle, Klamath.
Shan froze. Klamath?
He had just extended a hand to request more information when the annunciator chimed.
"Come!"
The door whispered open behind him as he impatiently tapped keys.
"Klamath?" Anthora asked, leaning on his shoulder. "What's Klamath?"
"That is what we're trying to find out. We are, in fact, hoping my memory has finally deteriorated to the point that someone must be assigned to lead me about. Exercise your influence, sister, and see that it's Priscilla?"
She laughed. "As if I had any! And what
He turned carefully to avoid stepping on a mountain range and pointed. "The lamps are towns, as lit when we pass over them at night. More lamps become a city—like here—and fewer are villages or less. So the blue is a large town or a small city, one with four transmissions from it."
"The pipes are transmission towers?"
He nodded. "The green is the largest city, and I suspect it has an airport of some consequence."
"And that?" She pointed at the metal block in his hand. "Where does that go?"
He hefted it, walked two graceful steps into the map, and very precisely placed it between the coastal mountains and a single red lamp, not far from where he had placed the paper spaceship. "There."
"Fine," Miri approved. "What is it?"
"Us."
She frowned at the map, letting the picture build in her mind. "The idea is to leave the ship in the mountains, then walk down that pass there—if it is a pass—and hope there's some way we can work things out to meet people before we go to town?"
He nodded. "It is the best course of action I can envision, given the limited data we have been able to gather." He sighed. "This is not a Scout ship." He seemed genuinely annoyed with the yacht for that shortcoming, and Miri grinned briefly before walking the perimeter and stepping in beside him.
"When do we land?"
"When the time is propitious," he murmured, idly adjusting the metal block with his foot.
"You figure the propitious time will he soon?" she persisted. "Reason I ask is we only got another two days of fish and maybe three of crackers, and then what we got is water."
"Ah," he said, shifting slightly to take another look at his creation before turning and smiling down into her eyes. "In that case, I would say that the most propitious time is immediately after lunch."
LIAD: Trealla Fantrol
Korval's man of business was closeted with the First Speaker, but before being whisked away he had managed one minor bit of magic and produced a credit history on Miri Robertson, Terran citizen. Shan slid the disk from the old gentleman's fingers with a smile. "Exactly what I was needing, sir. My thanks," he said, and carried it off.
Alone in his rooms, he fed the information to the computer and took a sip from his glass.
Apparently financial institutions did not consider mercenary soldiers good credit risks. There was a string of six "Applied. Credit Denied" before a surprising "Loan granted, Bank of Fendor, one-half cantra to Miri Robertson payable over a period of not more than four Standard Years at interest of 10.5%. Co-signator, Angela Lizardi. Collateral in form of Pension Fund 98-1077-45581 carried by Ilquith Securities. Transaction completed Day 353 Standard 1385."
Angela Lizardi again—apparently a commander who took active interest in her soldiers. And Miri Robertson pledges her pension for half a cantra cash, he thought. I wonder why.
The screen supplied no answer, but it did reflect an exemplary payment record, and then the notation "Balance paid in full, Day 4, Standard 1388."
She earned a bonus and killed the thing, Shan surmised, sipping wine. It was the best she could have done at ten point five. He touched a key and the credit file faded, to be replaced a heartbeat later by an employment history.
1379: APPRENTICE SOLDIER, LIZARDI'S LUNATICS.
The Lunatics had taken and fulfilled a series of contracts on a number of worlds: Eskelli, Porum, Contrast, Skittle, Klamath.
Shan froze. Klamath?
He had just extended a hand to request more information when the annunciator chimed.
"Come!"
The door whispered open behind him as he impatiently tapped keys.
"Klamath?" Anthora asked, leaning on his shoulder. "What's Klamath?"
"That is what we're trying to find out. We are, in fact, hoping my memory has finally deteriorated to the point that someone must be assigned to lead me about. Exercise your influence, sister, and see that it's Priscilla?"
She laughed. "As if I had any! And what
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