L. E. Modesitt - The Forever Hero 3 - The Endless Twilight.pdf - L. E. Modesitt - margozap

The Forever Hero 3:

The Endless Twilight

L.E. Modesitt, Jr

v1.0

Scanned and Proofed

by Neugaia (#Bookz)

[21/03/2002]

THE ONCE-UPON-a-time scoutship jumpshifted, and for a moment that was both instantaneous and

endless, black light flooded the two small compartments, the one containing the pilot and the crew space

that contained no one. That instant of shift seemed to last longer than normal, as it always did when the

actual shift was near the limit.

"Interrogative status," asked the pilot, a man with tight-curled blond hair and hawk-yellow eyes that

swept the range of displays on the screens before him.

"No EDI traces. No mass indications within point one light. Destination estimated at four plus." The

impersonally feminine tone of the artificial intelligence would have chilled most listeners, but the pilot

preferred the lack of warmth in the voice of the Caroljoy .

In his rebuilding of the discarded and theoretically obsolete scout, the former Imperial commodore

could have programmed warmth into the voice when he had added the AI, just as he could have opted for

more comfort in the spartan quarters, rather than for the raw power and extensive defensive screens the

beefed-up exFederation scout now enjoyed. The pilot had avoided warmth in both the ship and the AI.

He leaned back, in the control couch, trying to relax, as if he wanted to push away a particularly bad

memory. He did, and as he often also did he whistled three or four notes in the odd double-toned style that

was his alone.

The AI did not acknowledge the music, since the notes represented neither observation nor inquiry.

What was past was past. The two tacheads he had used on El Lido, along with the thirty thousand

casualties, would certainly draw Imperial interest, but he doubted that they would call Impie attention back

on him. Not yet. After all, one of the two targets had been CE, Limited, in which he, as Shaik Corso, had

held the controlling interest.

Now, Hamline Rodire had control, and the former commodore hoped that Rodire would use the

influence that CE, Limited, represented for the benefit of all of El Lido.

He shook his head. He had run through the arguments all too often to change his mind, or the past.

What was past was past. Time to concentrate on the future, on running down the rest of the research leads

that he and the foundation had neglected for too long. Time to refocus himself on the long range and

eventual mission, on getting the technology he needed for the reclamation job on Old Earth, a job that was

too big for the underfunded and ignored Recorps to complete.

"EDI traces at forty emkay."

"Interrogative signature pattern."

"Signature pattern tentatively identified as standard system patroller, class II."

"Course line?"

"Preliminary course line indicates target headed in-system. Probability exceeds point eight that

patroller destination is planet three."

Former Commodore MacGregor Corson Gerswin nodded. That made sense, particularly since

planet three was Byzania.

"Interrogative other patrollers."

"Remote EDI traces from exit corridor two. Probability exceeds point five that second system

patroller is stationed within one hundred emkay of jump point."

"Interrogative other system targets."

"That is negative this time."

Gerswin's fingers played across the representational screen, checking the relative positions and

travel times.

He pulled at his chin.

After the debacle on El Lido, he had plunged into trying to tie up a number of loose ends. That had

been fine, but he hadn't bothered to update Lyr on those activities. Not what had happened on El Lido, but

on his OER Foundation-related efforts, the ones she monitored and on which she had to keep records for

the Empire's tax collectors and various departmental snoops.

First, though, he really wanted to take a rest, one of several hours while the Caroljoy cruised in-

system.

He reached for the control couch harness release, then straightened.

Might as well do the update and send it. The energy required would be less the farther out-system

he was when he dispatched the torp. And the less energy required for the message torp, the more left with

the ship.

Who could ever tell what he might require?

From what he recalled, Byzania, while not unfriendly, was a rather tightly controlled society. But,

first, the update to Lyr. Then he could worry about sleep and Byzania.

Once she got the update, she could be the one to take on the worries about the latest implications of

what he was doing, not that she wasn't already.

He cleared his throat and tapped the data screen controls.

BUZZ!

At the sound, Lyr dropped in front of the console.

The screen showed the face of the man with the curly blond hair and hawk-yellow eyes.

"You never change," she observed safely, since Gerswin was really not on the screen, his image

only the beginning of a prerecorded torp fax for her.

She first tapped the controls to store the entire message and the mass of data that always

accompanied his transmissions, then tapped the acknowledgment stud to start the message.

"Lyr. Finished the Grom'tchacher lead. Your first impressions were right. Leased the lab, took the

cash, and left. Nice prospectus, though. Theory's interesting, if not down our line. Might be worth a

commission job for one of your friends to investigate."

Gerswin looked down, then back into the screen. In the shadows behind him, Lyr could make out

the accel/decel shell/couch that dominated the control room, and the manual auxiliary control banks that

Gerswin had insisted on retaining even after centralizing the direct controls in the simplified bank before him,

secondarily, in the AI center.

In scanning the background, she missed the next words, not that she could not have replayed them

anytime .

". . . off to Byzania next. Hylerion—the precoded accelerated tree grower—heard some interesting

reports. Never collected the last installment of the grant. Suspicious enough to make me think the idea

worked.

"Be back in Ydris to check their system after that. Send a report there."

He grinned at the screen.

"Since you're the cred worrier, some good news. In tracing down Grom'tchacher, ran across some

business. Managed to broker a lab lease and some other property along with ours. Finder's fee

arrangement. Took it personally, but felt some belonged to the foundation. Means no draw on my operating

account for a while. Remainder of the OERF share is coming through the general receipts. Code blue."

Lyr frowned. That she'd have to check. Credits were often the last thing the commander worried

about, the very last thing .

". . . off to Byzania. See you soon."

He always closed that way, she reflected, tapping the studs to store the message in the permanent

file, but it had been more than five years since he had been anywhere near New Augusta.

She pursed her lips, knowing she should be somewhere other than before the console at 2030 on a

spring evening. At less than seventy, she certainly wasn't novaed; her weight was the same as it had been

years earlier; and her muscle tone, thanks to her exercise regime, was probably better. She looked far

younger than she was.

"That could be the trouble . . ."

She cut off her monologue before it began and called up the general receipts account and the

commander's code blue entry.

"Unsolicited donation. Fyrst V D'berg, Aerlion. One million credits. Codes follow. . . ."

Lyr ran her tongue over her chapped lips. Gerswin and his unsolicited donations ran to as much as

several million annually. Where he found them she wondered, but they always were supported.

And his ventures . . . she really wanted to ask him what else he had been doing besides tracking

completed grants and projects and grantees who had failed to report or collect. Always the ventures, like the

fabrication plant on Solor and whatever he was doing on Westmark with that plant protein substitute. Add to

that the aliases . . . she worried at her lower lip with her upper teeth.

After forty years with the foundation, she could see an accelerating trend, even more than in the first

few years after the commodore's retirement, a trend where things were building. To what, she didn't know,

but once again she had the feeling that the Empire and the commodore were going to clash.

She'd really have to talk to him about it—assuming he ever came back.

L. E. Modesitt - The Forever Hero 3 - The Endless Twilight.pdf

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