But they were in there. Eric leaned forward in the copilot’s seat and stared at the view screen showing the station’s skin. Its cylindrical modules gleamed silver and gold in the light of a distant sun. The Vitae were under there, supervising, devising, scheming.
It had taken 172 hours to get here from May 16. The U-Kenai had been hanging from the docking clamps for an additional eight hours, and so far, nothing had happened. If the Vitae had noticed that his little ship didn’t match the transmission that described it, they weren’t making an audible fuss about it. He glanced at the comm board. There hadn’t been a twitch or flicker since the initial recorded docking message.
Eric stared at his fingertips where they rested against the board’s edge.
What are you waiting for, Teacher? Permission from the Nameless? Or just from the Rhudolant Vitae?
During the flight time, he’d arranged a small shipment of microchips and equipment for himself. It wasn’t due to arrive at the station for another forty-eight hours. Ostensibly to save money, he’d listed his decision with the dockmaster to bunk in his ship rather than rent a room. Right now, Adu was linking the ship’s computers into the station’s communications network so that he could catch up on the news and be notified as soon as his shipment arrived.
The Rhudolant Vitae were also hooked into the network.
“Time to go swimming,” he muttered as he stood up.
“What do you need me to do?” asked Adu.
Eric started and stared at the android. “Sorry. I’m used to Cam. He never volunteered information if it wasn’t an emergency.”
“Understood.” Adu puckered the android’s mouth in a gesture that Eric guessed was meant to be a smile. “But what do you need me to do?”
“Wait,” said Eric. “And when the information starts coming in, make sure it gets into the datastores. I’m not going to be able to be very discriminating about how I shovel in what I get. When the data comes in, I’m going to need you to siphon out the useful segments, any references to MG49 sub 1 or the Realm of the Nameless Powers, Eric Born or Stone in the Wall. And keep Cam’s security programs up and running.” He stopped. “You might also make sure the emergency beacon is primed to send a message to Yul Gan Perivar in the Amaiar Division on Kethran Colony. If something happens, Perivar should be told.” Adu was looking at him with a disturbing steadiness. “He’s a communications professional.
If the Vitae are watching us, he’ll be able to get a message through to Dorias with a lot less risk than we could.”
“Do you think … something will happen?”
The tone in Adu’s voice was soft, almost like a child’s fear. With an odd twinge, Eric realized that was exactly what it was. He gave Adu the smile he reserved for hand-marking days.
“Not really, but I want to be on the safe side.”
“Also understood.” The android turned back to its work and Eric retreated to the common room’s work station. Tapping the line from the common room would leave Adu more room on the bridge to work.
Eric sat in front of the work station just as the green light blinked on above the main board. The line to ’Abassyd Station was open and clear, waiting for his signal. Eric stared at the board for a long moment, trying to find the nerve to begin his task. If this did not work … if this did not work …
The Nameless speak of this deed. The words of consecration surfaced in his mind, startling him, but he let them continue. Their Words give it substance. It is true and cannot be denied. The Servant watches this deed. His eyes see my path. It is true and cannot be denied.
He swiveled the comm chair around so the board was at his right side. Then he lifted his hand and laid it on the keys.
Once, he’d heard Perivar and Tasa Ad trying to find words to fit the power gift into the way they saw the universe. They had eventually settled on something like “resonance fields which manipulated quantum effects.”
Kessa, on the other hand, had said, “It ain’t natural, but it works, what more do you need?”
Kessa had a very direct approach.
Eric couldn’t read a computer’s mind any more than he could read a human being’s, but his gift could give him a feel for the workings, both mechanical and logical. Once he knew that, the only way to keep him out of a system was to shut the power down, or incapacitate him.
The board’s smooth polymer pressed against his skin and quickly became slick with his perspiration. He closed his eyes.
What I do is true. What I do is seen and spoken. It cannot be denied.
I cannot be denied.
He let his gift flow from his hands into the console. Familiar territory. He knew its shapes and nuances. With the barest effort, the blind fingers of his power made sure the configuration of the gate between the board and the open line was the proper shape. Then they scuttled down the clear channel, playing his consciousness out like a rope behind them.