several exchanges had passed along the encrypted channel, an hour had passed, and then he finally received a transmission directed at him.
“ Captain Rice, welcome to the Chrysanthemum system,” the uniformed traffic controller told him. “Unfortunately, we have no ability to provide docking for a vessel of your size – any attempt to land a vessel of your size on the Rock would likely cause structural damage. I am transmitting an orbit that will allow Commander Mons’s teams to land the gunships without issue. Once that is complete, we will be able to send a tanker out to fuel your ship up – consider it our part of your fee.”
The man glanced over to one side, reading a message that must have come up on a screen that was off-camera, and then glanced back to David with a surprised look on his face.
“The President has also personally asked me to invite you and your senior officers to join us for the celebration of the Midsummer Festival,” he continued, slowly. “Your arrival is timely – the summer solstice for our northern hemisphere falls tomorrow night, so you should be able to enter orbit, offload the gunships, and make it down with time to spare. We should be able to get your ship fuelled while you’re on the surface.”
David waited for a long moment, trying to make sense of the man’s reaction. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with the tanker docking with the Jay while he was on the surface, but it would allow them to head out quickly if he found – or clearly wouldn’t find – a cargo. With a shrug, he switched the recorder on and smiled at the traffic controller.
“Thank you for the welcome,” he began. “Inform your President that my officers and I will be glad to attend.”
The best way to avoid a trap, in his experience, was to walk into it with your eyes wide open.
#
Damien had spent almost the entire trip either in his lab, the simulacrum chamber, or hiding in Rib A with Kelly, where none of the passengers had quarters. After his one meal with Niska, the only members of their Legatan passengers he’d seen had been the four Augments assigned to guarding the simulacrum. Those four young men had been unfailingly polite, if skittish around the Mage.
He was in his lab, ignoring the guards outside and looking forward to a planned dinner with LaMonte, when the Captain buzzed him.
“ Captain,” he answered the intercom, flipping the feed from the bridge up onto his work-screen.
“Damien, how is everything looking on your end?” Rice asked, his eyes focused on his own screens, away from the camera.
“ We’ve no issues,” Damien answered, somewhat confused. “All of the runes are clean, the amplifier is fully functional.”
“The locals have invited the ship’s senior officers to the surface to join them in a local festival,” David told him.
“ You need me to mind the ship while you’re gone?” Damien asked. If the remainder of the ship’s senior officers were ground-side, he would technically be in charge. He wouldn’t leave the simulacrum chamber, but the console there would allow him to fly the ship – and the amplifier he controlled from there was the Jay ’s only real weapon.
“That’s the odd part,” David replied, shaking his head. “They didn’t exclude you, and every other time I’ve been invited surface-side on these kinds of planets, they usually make that point very clear. I’m not sure they’re saying what they mean, and I want you to keep your eyes open.”
“ You think the Legatans are plotting something?” Damien asked, thinking back over his limited encounters.
“No,” the Captain answered, sounding a little surprised himself. “I think Niska and Mons and their people are as level with us as they’re going to be, outside of the diversion. The locals though… I don’t trust them. I want you with us on the surface – without your medallion, Damien.”
Damien touched the gold medal he wore on a leather collar around his neck.