"Yes, sir," Hobison replied. "And I had Communications call the
Palace, your personal code. We should be getting a reply any time, and
it'll be patched through to here."
"Thanks." Medart was appreciative, though he hadn't expected any less
from the man who'd captained his ship for the past twenty years. "This
is something I'm not looking forward to telling His Majesty."
The briefing room screen flickered blue, then cleared to show a lean,
gray-haired man wearing a Ranger's uniform with the Imperial Seal in
place of the badge. Both men on the Chang stood and saluted.
Emperor Charles Davis returned the salute. "What is it, Jim? You
wouldn't be back on duty if it weren't critical."
"Rebellion, sir." Medart reported all he had learned, both from the
probe of Entos and from Corina, watching the Emperor's expression
become grim. And he reported his hunch.
Davis nodded. "Follow it up. Learn all you can about their Talent,
too. The White Order's never given us any trouble before, so they were
entitled to their privacy, but that's over now. We can't afford to
keep depending on stories and rumors."
"She's agreed to give any help she can, sir, as I said, and that
includes briefing me on Talent."
"Good. I'll alert the nobility, have them take extra precautions since
they're bound to be targets. You're on-scene; do you think I should
have a fleet cordon off Irschcha itself?"
"No, sir," Medart replied. "Thark's smart, we know that. If he and
his people haven't left the planet already, they'll damnsure be gone by
the time a cordon fleet could get here."
"All right. But I will have Earl Suitland take over planetary
administration, and I'll send some extra troops to stand by in case she
needs them." Davis scowled. "This isn't going to look good,
especially to the Traiti. I promised them they'd keep their own
government so they could stop fighting and join the Empire, and the
White Order ruling Irschcha was one of the convincers. Only their
Lords know how they'll react to this--they've only been part of the
Empire for six weeks."
"It's touchy, all right," Medart agreed. "Having to take over one of
the only two non-human governments--they may see it as evidence we
don't really consider non-humans as equals."
"We'll have to convince them otherwise." Davis paused briefly. "Jim,
do you think your hunch that Ms. Losinj is important could mean she's
Ranger material?"
"No way to know yet, sir. She's got the loyalty, she's proven that,
and she certainly acts intelligent enough, but I'll have to find out
about the rest. Check her records, talk to her, see how she thinks--
maybe give her the pre-Academy tests. I haven't noticed anything
negative so far, but I haven't seen much of her, either."
"I know. Just keep me informed; we need a non-human Ranger. But even
if she doesn't qualify, I think she deserves a title for having the
courage and loyalty to warn us."
"Agreed, sir. A Life Nobility?"
Davis smiled slightly. "She deserves it, but I'm going to reserve that
pleasure for myself--here at the Palace, in a full Grand Audience.
Give her a knighthood for now."
"Yes, sir. I'll hold a Tribunal tomorrow morning."
"That's it, then. I've got to get moving on this mess. Out." The
Emperor's image flickered blue, then disappeared.
Hobison gave the Ranger a long, silent look before he spoke.
"Rebellion, hmm? From the timing, I'd say this Thark's just been
waiting for the war to end. That doesn't strike me as typical behavior
for a rebel."
"Same here," Medart said. "He's not typical at all, from what Losinj
told me. Most rebels are greedy, out for nothing but power--according
to her, Thark's convinced the Order can rule better than we poor
unTalented can, so it's his duty to take over. Naturally, I don't
agree."
Hobison snorted. "Good intentions don't make up for treason. What's
next?"
"That depends on what we learn from Losinj," Medart replied. "At the
moment, I just don't know enough to make realistic plans. Too much
depends on how powerful this Talent of the Order's is."
Hobison nodded. "That makes sense. But would you really ask her to
join the Rangers? She's so tiny, so . . ."
"Pettable?" Medart came close to smiling. "She looks it, yes, but you
heard what she had to do to reach us. And you know size doesn't have
anything to do with it. Sure I'll ask her, if I find she's qualified,
even if I hate to wish this responsibility on anyone. His Majesty's
right, we need a non-human Ranger badly. Especially now that we're
integrating the Traiti."
"Uh-huh. Good politics, if nothing else."
Medart nodded. "Since that damn Firster backshot Steve in the Palace
and Hovan took him, there's been sentiment growing for non-humans.
It's a good thing, and it makes this an ideal time for that
breakthrough. It'd probably tickle Steve to know that she'd take his
place. I'm just sorry this means no shore leave for Chang's crew."
"So am I," Hobison agreed. "I could use a bit of vacation about now.
It can't be helped, though."
"No." Medart sighed, changed the subject. "She might as well brief
all of us at once; can you have the Command Crew here in, say, an
hour?"
"Yes, sir. Do you want me to have her paged?"
"Don't bother." Medart grinned. "If I know our Sunbeam, she's found
Losinj a cabin and taken her to Mess Three. I could use something to
eat myself, so I'll go get her."
* * * * *
Medart spotted Yamata and his new assistant almost as soon as he
entered Mess Three. Spotted where they must be sitting, rather; that
noisy group on the far side of the room. He punched in his order--
coffee and an egg salad sandwich--and when it slid from the dispenser,
took it over to stand on the outskirts of the group.
"--like it's something you'd do every day before lunch!" a young Marine
Lieutenant was saying. "Dig out a plot, escape from three cops, fight
an assassin, then say it was nothing. That's incredible!"
So they'd succeeded in worming part of the story out of her, Medart
thought. Just the basics, most likely, so they'd let her eat, and
there was no harm in that; everyone would find out soon enough.
"You can't shrug it off that lightly, 'Rina," someone else said.
"That'd get one of us a medal. Should get you a knighthood, maybe a
Life Nobility."
Then Sunbeam spoke up, almost laughing. "Take it easy! Can't you see
you're embarrassing her terribly?"
"Well, she should," the other retorted. "If I had enough rank, I'd
call a Tribunal right now, and knight her."
Not a bad idea at all, Medart thought. It probably would be best,
considering Greggson's attitude, for her to have that formal status
when she met with the Command Crew. The man's competence as Security
Chief couldn't be questioned, but Medart wondered at times how he'd
ever passed the psych tests to become an Imperial officer, with his
near-xenophobia. Hmm, this was getting interesting--the anonymous
young officer was going through with it, speaking the formula of
knighthood as solemnly as if this were indeed a real Tribunal. All
Medart could see of the Irschchan was her eartips, erect and quivering
as her admirer finished on a note of triumph: "--and do name you,
Corina Losinj of Irschcha, a Knight of the Empire!"
"Confirmed," Medart said, pitching his voice so the entire group would
hear.
"Wha--" The officer turned, flushing, as the group noticed the Ranger
for the first time.
Medart smiled. "I said `confirmed', Ensign; you did that well enough I
don't see any need to repeat the ceremony. Now may I join my
assistant?"
"Uh . . . yes, sir. Of course."
Corina stared from Ranger to Ensign and back, confused. This was far
too informal, even by human standards, to mean what it seemed to--and
yet the Ranger was perfectly serious, no trace of humor in voice or
aura. "I do not understand," she said at last. "I have done only my
duty; I deserve no special recognition for that."
"His Majesty doesn't agree, Sir Corina," Medart said, stressing the
title slightly, as he took a seat. "If you'd care to argue it with
him--?"
Corina looked disbelievingly at the Ranger, who was smiling at her with
one eyebrow raised. Was this what humans called "teasing"? She
supposed it had to be; he couldn't seriously expect her to argue with
the Emperor! "No, Ranger. If His Majesty wishes to so honor me, I
must accept."
Typical exaggerated Irschchan respect for authority, Medart thought,
but if she stayed around humans long, she'd get over that! "You'd best
finish your lunch, Sir Corina. And get used to the title; I've called
a Command Crew meeting for 1400, so you can brief them."
"Yes, Ranger." Corina turned her attention back to her meal, the milk
and medium-rare steak Sunbeam had recommended.
* * * * *
The meeting began on schedule, in Briefing Room One, with Hobison
introducing his senior officers. Corina took the opportunity to make a
quick evaluation of each. There was no dishonor; she was not probing
deeply enough to intrude.
Hobison himself was shielded, well enough she could read nothing of him
. . . as he should be in his position, though it was surprising.
"My Executive Officer, Commander Sonia Pappas." She was a short
brunette, four or five kilos overweight but not fat. No mind screen;
Corina felt an aura of competence from her.
"Marine Lieutenant Colonel Jeff Greggson, Chief of Security." Tall and
muscular, he wore Marine black with silver oak leaf rank insigne.
Despite his strong mind shield, Corina sensed hostility.
"Commander Marie Sherman, Chief Medical Officer." A tall blonde who
seemed uncomfortable outside her own medical center. No screen, but
she wasn't radiating any particular emotion, either.
"And finally Commander Carl Jensen, Chief Engineer." Small and
studious looking, he didn't really stand out. Like Sherman, he was
unshielded and wanted nothing more than to return to his own domain.
Medart took over the meeting at that point, describing what little he
knew of the White Order. "We're here to find out exactly how much of a
threat the Order actually is to the Empire," he concluded. "Sir Corina
has agreed to help us, so she's next."
Corina stood. "I do not know precisely what information you wish.
Perhaps it would be best if you asked questions."
"All right. Just what can the Order do? Specifically, what is this
Talent we hear stories about? I need facts, not rumors."
"You mean the individual members?"
"For a start, yes."
"Urrr . . . telepathy, of course, and--"
"Reliable telepathy?" Sherman broke in skeptically. "That's never been
proven."
"Then I must do so, at least to your satisfaction." Corina turned to
the Ranger. "If I may do so without dishonor?"
"There's no dishonor involved; that's what you're here for. Go ahead."
Corina turned back, probed gently into the Medical Officer's unscreened
mind. "You are familiar with the Rhine reports some four centuries
before the Empire?"
"Yes, but they're no more proof of telepathy than your guessing I'd
read them."
"They should have convinced you. Since they do not, I must probe more
deeply. I do not wish to distress you, but belief is essential. I
have been aboard only a short time, not long enough to learn anything
about you in the so-called `normal' way. Would you agree?"
Sherman nodded.
"Very well. Your middle name is Jean. Your hobby is pre-Empire
science fiction." Corina paused, contemplating. "That appears
interesting; I shall have to look into it. To continue, your favorite
stories are the Lensman series, and your only regret is that--"
"That's enough!" Sherman interrupted in a near shout. "I'm convinced.
You don't have to go on."
Corina, satisfied that she had made her point, continued to the entire
group. "Telepathy is the most common aspect of Talent, and by far the
easiest to develop; all of the Order has it, in varying degrees. A
mind screen or shield is almost as common; it seems to go with the
telepathy, in all but rare cases." She noticed a slightly raised hand.
"Yes, Colonel Greggson?"
"That mind screen--does it occur without telepathy? It could be very
useful, in my field."
"Not in Irschchans, but it apparently does in humans. I noticed
earlier that you, Ranger Medart, and Captain Hobison all have excellent
ones, among the best I have felt."
Greggson smiled grimly. "Thanks. That's good to know." He went on
more softly, muttering to himself, but Corina's hearing made his words
clearly audible. "All the most sensitive positions. Damn lucky . . .
if the kitty's not lying."
Corina's ears flattened slightly at that uncalled-for slur, but she
forced herself to say nothing about it, responding instead to the Chief
Engineer's slight gesture. "You wish to ask something, Commander
Jensen?"
"Please. Can a mind screen like that be generated electronically?"
"To the best of my knowledge, Commander, such a thing has never been
attempted. There are those who would consider the electronic imitation
of Talent an obscenity, and they have much influence."
"What else?" Medart asked.
"Direction sense would be included for humans, I believe," Corina said.
"The Order does not consider it a true aspect of Talent, since it is
something all Irschchans have, but I understand that is not true for
you. Otherwise, aside from what I have already mentioned, there is
anything one can imagine being done by mind power rather than physical
means, though few people have more than one such aspect, and no one has
been reported with more than three. The rarest is precognition; I have
not heard of anyone having that in over fifty years. I myself am
capable of weak telekinesis, finding, and darlas." She saw puzzled
looks, and explained. "Finding is the ability to locate concealed--or
simply misplaced--objects, and darlas is a form of telepathic attack."
"What's telekinesis?" Greggson asked.
"Moving objects by mind power alone." When the Security Chief looked
doubtful, Corina decided she had best demonstrate that as well. But
the conference table was bare, and she did not want to use anything of
her own.
"Ranger Medart, do you have anything I could use to show the Colonel
what I mean? It had best be light; as I said, that aspect of my Talent
is not particularly powerful."
"I think so," Medart replied. He reached into a pouch on his belt,
pulled out a small notepad. "Is this okay?"
"It is fine. Would you put it on the table, please?"
He did as she asked. She stared hard at it for perhaps five seconds,
concentrating, then the pad rose from the table. Apparently on its
own, it circled the room, then settled gently back to its starting
place in front of the Ranger.
For long seconds, nobody spoke. Then Medart said softly, "If the Order
can do all that, I'd say we have a bit worse of a problem than I
thought."
"Not all can do everything," Corina reminded him, "any more than I can.
Still, their abilities do combine to make a formidable power. The
problem is a serious one."
"This Talent of yours is all very well," Greggson put in, "but I doubt
if it would be any good against armed, trained Security Division
Marines. I'd bet on my men any day."
"You would lose," Corina told him, then she looked at Medart. "It
seems I must demonstrate this as well, since Colonel Greggson appears
unable to accept my word. Although there are many who equal or surpass
me, my Talent is above average; I can give you some idea of the
opposition you will have to face."
Medart nodded. "Good suggestion. Greggson, get half a decade of your
best troops together in the main gym as soon as you can."
"Yes, sir." Greggson left, scowling at Corina as he passed her. She
wondered what she could have done to arouse the man's hostility; after
all, she had barely met him.
"Give him a few minutes to get them together," Medart said, "then we
can meet them in the gym. Do you really think you can defeat five top
SecuDiv Marines?"
"I do not know," Corina replied quietly. "It has been some time since
I worked with unTalented people, and last time I tried, I could defeat
only two, neither of whom had a shield. On the other hand, I have been
training with Thark and Valla. But defeating them is not as important
as convincing Colonel Greggson of the danger he and his Marines face."
"Truthfully, I don't think you can do it," Hobison said. "All his
people are top caliber, or they wouldn't be on this ship--and one of
them, Ranger Medart's bodyguard, is a Sandeman warrior."
"Any selected for this vessel's Marine contingent would be formidable,
I know," Corina said, "particularly one of that race's warriors. But I
still believe the demonstration necessary; if one who is yet a student
can make a respectable showing against such, then you will take more
seriously those who are long-experienced in the use of their greater
Talent."
"Can't argue that," Hobison said. "But I don't envy you the
demonstration, Sir Corina."
All except the Ranger agreed aloud. He agreed privately as well, but
wanted to give her the best chance possible, which meant not
discouraging her before she even got started. And she was right; the
demonstration, whatever its outcome, would be valuable. "Greggson's
had time to call his people together," he said at last. "Let's get to
the gym."
Medart spent the shuttle trip unobtrusively studying the young
Irschchan. She'd certainly been handed a rough deal, he thought
sympathetically. He might not share her telepathic Talent, but he
could make an educated guess about how she felt. Betrayed by her
teacher, attacked and almost killed, then drafted and hauled into a
whole new kind of life . . . she couldn't be exactly comfortable about
the whole thing, but she was reacting better than he could've
expected--well enough that he'd rate her adaptability level the equal
of a Ranger's, which was a promising sign. She'd make out all right,
whether she met Ranger standards all the way or not.
Corina's self-evaluation was less optimistic. She was managing to keep
up a good front somehow, she thought, since she didn't care to let
strangers know just how overwhelmed she felt by the day's happenings.
At the moment she was going strictly on stubbornness, and was just
hoping that would last long enough for her to adapt to this totally
unfamiliar existence.