Free Faith by John Love Page B

that my son will be on your ship.”
    “No. There’s something else that worries you. Something you haven’t told me.” It amounted to calling his host a liar, so Foord spoke carefully. “But I think you will, when you’ve worked out how to say it.”
    He continued to gaze through the leaded glass where the cold blaze of Blentport and its surrounding cities was spread out far below, prominences flaring now and then as ships landed for refit or lifted off to join the cordon around Sakhra. Under the huge Sakhran night, the spaceport seemed both mighty and vulnerable; like a beached whale, its size made it weak.
    “An impressive spaceport,” Sulhu observed. “Much more impressive than anything we had. And yet, do you know how it got its name? When Sakhra became absorbed by, or rather was Invited To Join, the Commonwealth two hundred years ago”—Sulhu’s vocal irony, like all other forms of Sakhran irony, was light and subtle—“we pointed out Srahr’s tomb and asked that no human should ever go there uninvited to read his Book. For no better reason than that, a man named Rikkard Blent did. We caught him before he entered and later returned his still living body to the lowlands. The Commonwealth never actually retaliated, except—rather injudiciously if you ask me—to name Blentport after him.”
    Sulhu paused for a moment. When he resumed, the irony had drained from his voice.
    “To name its biggest spaceport after a silly man who thought he could come up here and just read the Book of Srahr. Srahr was the greatest of us, Commander. Poet, philosopher, soldier, scientist; and, unfortunately, author. We never recovered from his literary career… Must you go back tomorrow morning, Commander?”
    “I think so. The refit has to be completed.”
    “If you could stay until the afternoon, I had in mind a hunting trip.”
    Foord smiled. “Cyr would have liked that.”
    “He’s your Weapons Officer, isn’t he?”
    “She.”
    “Ah. Tell me about the people on your ship.”
    Foord told him.
    “But if they’ve done those things, why aren’t they dead? Or in prison?”
    “Because they’re too valuable. And I’ve Done Those Things, too.”
     
    “You see, Commander,” Sulhu went on, “There’s something wrong about this mission of yours.” His hands raised themselves from his lap, just enough to silence Foord, and returned to rest. “Let me think about how best to put it to you.”
    Not for the first time that evening there was a loud roar as some military transports dipped low over the Irsirrha on their way down to Blentport. Suddenly aware that he was shivering, Foord walked back to stand by the fire.
    “Yes,” Sulhu said as the noise from the ships died away, “that’s a good cue. It’s common knowledge—I didn’t get this from my son, it’s in all the broadcasts—that Horus Fleet has been ordered to maintain a defensive cordon around Sakhra, and that if She appears in the system, you’re to go out and engage Her singly, and they’re to stay put.”
    “Yes, the Department made a terrible mistake at Isis. They insisted the Sirhan should join the regular forces, and not fight Her alone. They don’t want to repeat that mistake here. If anything, they’ve gone to the other extreme.”
    “But Horus Fleet is the biggest in the Commonwealth, outside of Earth. Do the people who give you your orders really think the whole Fleet isn’t equal to Her?”
    “Maybe they think She isn’t equal to me.”
    “I was in Blentport a few days ago and I watched your ship land.” A carnivore’s lightning-bright smile. “I can’t imagine much that would equal it. But here’s my point: what will happen after you destroy Her?”
    Foord had some difficulty hiding his surprise. “I can’t say. My orders aren’t specific.”
    “No, not what you will do afterwards; what will happen. This is a matter which has interested me for a long time.” Thahl, who had been almost silent all evening, shifted