Turn 50

Several people are informed at once of the _Cat_'s return.
    One of them jumps up from a seat and says, "Finally!"
    Another flings down a pen and says, "Damn."
    A third smiles and says, "Delightful."

    * * *

    Ibn Fadil gives a last, regretful look at the _Twist_; he has been resolutely ignoring the proprietary feeling he has about the little ship, other than to insist on the name. He knows nobody is going to be giving him that or any other ship, and dwelling on the fierce delight he felt in so briefly 'owning' it (or at any rate a half-interest in it) is utterly pointless.
    Leading Nyala down the gangplank, he scans the crowd of mostly familiar faces again. There is Mirabette, standing on an upturned half-barrel so as to be visible among the taller humans; J'x'st with its glassware; and a dozen others. The one he really wants to see is a young boy (or perhaps girl; ibn Fadil has his suspicions about that) called Kayan, always a font of information but not immediately visible in the crowd. For the moment he will settle for the candy-seller, and angles toward her, returning greetings from others and wondering if the kids will remember his habit of giving away half the candy he buys.
    He notices immediately that there are many fewer childish faces than he had expected in the crowd. Kayan doesn't seem to be here. Mirabette looks at him, looks at Nyala, does a visible double-take, and waves cheerfully.
    "How is business?" ibn Fadil asks the halfling, with equal cheer, and unseriously pretending there is nothing at all unusual about his appearance or company.
    "Business is business," she shrugs. "Surprised to see you back here, after all this time. Lemon drop for your lady friend, perhaps?"
    "I just went there and back again," he says, distracted for a moment by watching Val and his entourage make their way across the plaza. "But I plan to leave again soon. Nyala, this is Mirabette, purveyor of superior confections - of which I have been deprived for a whole year," he adds lightly. "It will take at least a bag full of them for me to recover."
    When Mirabette turns out to have no news of interest to him, he pays for a bag of lemon drops and leads Nyala across the plaza to the inn he's thinking of staying at--several steps up from his previous quarters on the Rock. From the proprietor's expression, the man is trying to figure out where he's seem him before. The room is small but comfortable enough to soothe Nyala's somewhat ruffled state after Mirabette's evident curiosity; there are aspects to returning in ibn Fadil's company that she had not taken into account. From the window high in the overbuilt city, they can see a sliver of the docks and, at the moment, some of Haven's lapis serenity.
    From there the two proceeded at ibn Fadil's suggestion to a tavern where he expects he can exchange a drink or two for some information. More than one person watches them go past, appreciative and envious; he has a hard time not feeling smug.
    Once inside the ground-level establishment, Old Pete, like many others, looks surprised to see him. "Ibn Fadil? That you?! I'll be scavver-bait, it is!"
    They garner quite a few looks as they make their way over; a frosty-eyed Nyala glances around, then rests her hand on her belt near her rapier's hilt. Most of them get the hint. Ibn Fadil cheerfully leaves that problem in her capable hands. "Mister Pete," he greets the old man, waving to the server as he takes a seat. "How are you?"
    "Still alive, still alive," he wheezes merrily. "Didn't think to see you around these parts again, must say."
    "Oh? Whyever not?" he asks, with a certain irony.
    "Welllll, I did hear about a spot or two of trouble...."
    The half-elf orders drinks for Pete, himself, and Nyala. "Only a spot or two? I suppose I take my problems too seriously, then!"
    "Didn't say how big the spot was, did I?" he twinkles. "And a pleasure to meet you, miss...?" he hops up and bows to ibn Fadil's companion.
    "Nyala."
    "Lovely. I'm called Old Pete around here. Looks like you've been doing well enough," he appraises ibn Fadil's appearance slyly.
    "Spelljamming pays better than dishwashing," he admits with a grin. "But what *did* you hear about my spot of trouble? And what happened after I left?"
    "Weeeel, lot of folk surprised by your little adventure. Even more when you left. Vlad was hopping, you can bet on that - the little fish were a bit put out, too, but a bit tickled all the same to see him tweaked... he's disappeared, you know," he adds in a whisper.
    "What?!" Ibn Fadil's astonishment is, no doubt, gratifying to the old man. He leans forward and matches the quieter tone. "I just walked off the boat an hour ago, I know nothing at all."
    "Pfft. Vanished, couple months ago now. Anyone knows what happened to him, they ain't telling." He took a long drink before adding, "He ain't the only one, neither."
    "No! Who else?"
    "Joffe, 'bout the same time as Vlad. Shovan Lal. Balgop's kid, forget his name." Like Vlad, Joffe worked in Bral's less pleasant circles; the others were both names ibn Fadil knew vaguely as inoffensive sorts.
    "Vanished ..." he repeats anxiously. "I wonder who took over Vlad's interests?"
    "Now that I don't know," he shakes his head. "Not sure as I want to, if it's anything to do with all of this."
    "What? You think someone moved in on Vlad? But what would Lal or Balgop have to do with that?"
    "Good question," he replies darkly.
    Ibn Fadil taps his fingers nervously on the table. "I just wanted to pay him off and say goodbye to some people and leave for good," he complains. "Now what do I do?" Not expecting an answer from Old Pete, he sighs and changes the subject. "Do you know if the Victor is in residence? Someone on our ship managed to really annoy him, and we would like to keep out of the way ..."
    Old Pete laughs loudly. "Yeah, we heard a bit or two about that as well! Way he lit out after you all, we wondered if you were coming back - seems His Nibs doesn't like the look of horns," he grins. "Or maybe it was the poetry going around the Rock. He's been back a while now, but she ain't with him and he ain't talkin' so we figger your lad got away clean?"
    "Huh," ibn Fadil says, exchanging a worried glance with Nyala. "The original culprit had already left Janik when we got there. It is everybody else who was on the _Cat_ who should be a bit worried, I would say. The Victor did not appreciate the way some people took her side in the matter of her leaving him."
    In the interest of not adding fuel to that particular fire, he hurries on. "Anyway, have they caught those pirates yet, or has anything more been heard of them?"
    "Oh, they're out there. No news these past couple weeks, but Greywing's got her cruiser out after 'em last I heard." He nods sagely and pulls at his drink. "But tell me, then, what happened on Janik? Must have been quite a to-do if you think he's sparking after the whole crew! And how's this now you left with one ship and come back with three?"
    "Weeeeellll," ibn Fadil says, imitating Pete's draw-out-the-suspense tactic, "the damselfly is just a new Three Trees ship that the company sent back here - Mister Delmar got made captain of it, by the way. But the other one, the mosquito, Master Zeremin and I captured it." He pauses to enjoy Pete's reaction to that. "Not that anyone was defending it at the time, mind. Believe it or not ..." He launches into an overview of the circumstances and events on _Marja's Tear_, once again under-emphasizing his own contribution.
    By the time he's done telling the story, they've accumulated most of the bar as a fascinated audience, all of them with questions and commentary.
    He thoroughly enjoys the attention and the interchange with his audience (there is no need to maintain a low profile here any more, after all), but eventually decides to move along - and, not incidentally, avoid any more talk about events on Janik. A quick inquiry determines that there are currently no ships hiring to go in the direction he would prefer, and with Nyala still in tow he makes his escape into the corridor.
    "Now, let us see," he mutters to her, looking around. "A visit to Alaya, I think." Alaya, the proprietress of a small restaurant catering mostly to locals, has a son who can usually be found at the docks - he wants to confirm his suspicions about why so few of the kids were there today. Like many of his closest acquaintances here, Alaya talks nearly as much as she breathes.
    "Do not think my money troubles are over," he advised Nyala as they go. "Vlad may be gone, but somebody else may be holding my notes now. Or, with my luck, several will be claiming them," he adds, his mood dimming somewhat.
    "Surely we will know soon, as word of your return spreads." She doesn't sound worried, but then she never does.
    "And spreading the word is exactly what we are doing," he says lightly.
    The restaurant is half-full, making it crowded by non-Bral standards. Alaya is there, as is her son, looking put-out as he helps clear and wash.
    Ibn Fadil leads the way in, threading among the tables to a vacant one near the kitchen area, waving to the boy to catch his attention.
    They get the now-familiar double-take from Rick once recognition dawns, followed by a delighted grin. He glances at his harried mother and edges in their direction.
    Ibn Fadil grins back. "Rick, meet my friend Nyala. I missed you at the docks - you, and Kayan, and everyone else."
    "Oh." He shrugs mopily. "Yeah, mom won't let me. Says she needs me here, but ever since Ash Balgopsson went missing everybody's been like a nest of wobbleflies around here." He glances over his shoulder again, intercepts a maternal glare, and wipes half-heartedly at the grease on a nearby table.
    The Zakharan waves to Alaya, too. "I heard something about that," he says, with some sympathy. "He was not *at* the docks, was he?"
    "You mean, the last anybody saw him? I dunno exactly."
    "It is a worrisome thing," he observes, fishing in the bag he bought from Mirabette. He takes out a candy and flicks it into the air for Rick to catch. "Please tell your mother that I have money today, but who knows about tomorrow?"
    "Uh, okay... sure." He looks a little puzzled. Takes the candy, of course, and his expression brightens. "Nice to see you back."
    As the boy moves away, ibn Fadil quietly explains to Nyala, "There were a few times when I was broke that Mistress Alaya let me work for food, when she really did not need the help."
    "A kindly human. Have you other visits to pay?"
    "Not specific ones, no. Is there something you wanted to do?"
    "The Silver Lotus," she smiles with that faint teasing hint. "No insult meant to your cooking, dear Yusuf, but a change would be pleasant indeed."
    "I could not agree more. A little more talk here, and then we will go."
    Alaya makes an appearance at their table shortly afterward, bringing ibn Fadil's cup of tea herself. "Well, look who's back after all these months, and my boy pestering _me_ for sweets the whole time you were away." To Nyala she gives a warily curious nod, which the elf returns graciously. After placating her a bit on the issue of the candy, ibn Fadil turns the conversation without much difficulty to the recent disappearances. Alaya clicks her tongue sadly. "Terrible it is. Poor old Balgop sent the lad down to Zeremin's shop for some thread, but they never saw him there, and not a hair's been seen of him since. Hasn't been anything like it in at least ten years, and Ash is a sensible boy, not like those ones trying to get down to those tunnels what probably don't even exist. Weren't any ships that left that night, and everybody was out looking for him. Don't know what Balgop's going to do, that boy was all the kin he had on the Rock. Lesha's been looking after him, the dear soul...." The conversation drifts to the lives of other acquaintances, and general happenings since he's been gone. They learn that the _Magnus_ and her treacherous crew cut loose soon after the _Cat_'s departure, escaping only with considerable damage.
    Pondering, ibn Fadil leaves much more than the tea cost on the table, and the two of them stroll off to their best meal since Janik. No one approaches him that night about the matter of his debts, but the next morning, as the two make their way toward a late breakfast, Parrak falls into step beside ibn Fadil. Since they're in public and daylight, it would seem he's about to be polite....

* * *

    Yestin looks at Bral without any expression humans can perceive, shoulders his belongings, and clumps down the ramp. A couple of off-duty guards are loitering at the back of the crowd, and he heads in their direction after a slight hesitation.
    "Brencis. Fadey. What's the news?"
    "_Yestin?_ That you?" Fadey looks openly astonished. "What're you--"
    The other giff rams an elbow into his ribs and stares pointedly through the new arrival. "Er." Fadey falls silent, flushing almost black as he looks away. Yestin restrains a sigh, flicks his ears, nods courteously out of habit, and continues on through the square. He'd expected as much, and can probably expect it from every giff he'll meet on Bral. He finds lodgings in the first underground level, where not many of his kind are likely to go if they can avoid it, and then heads for Aelfyr's shop.
    The elderly half-elf looks up from his work at the sound of the bell over the door, and looks briefly surprised. "Good day, Mister Yestin. Come for a book?" He says that every time, with the same gentle smile.
    "I'll see what you have. And I brought you some... some things to look at." He coughs, blushes furiously, and hands over a sheaf of closely written paper. "I changed that one we talked about last time."
    "Ah. I look forward to perusing your lines." He lays the papers gently on the desk and walks around it. "Let's see, now...." He leads the way through the warren of shelves; the shop has grown over the years, so that what was once one small room has carved out additional chambers from adjoining buildings, some reached only by narrow stairs. Difficult space for a giff to navigate.
    "I've been reading the Rangar and Isak sagas on the journey here. There's some lovely bookshops on Janik."
    "So I've heard--beautiful cycle that, too, with everyone dying at the end. I've a few others in that style if you'd like to see them."
    "Perhaps something lighter," he suggests with a faint sigh.

* * *

    "Meet back here at noon the day after tomorrow and I'll let you know what's been decided about the _Twist_ and the items aboard," Delmar tells them while doling out the pay. "Excellent work on this voyage, all of you."
    "Thanks, Captain. See you in a couple." Emmett waves with his good hand, watching Inez leave in another direction, looking a little sad and a little worried.
    "OK, Val. What's our plan now." He holds up a hand to forestall the taller man's objection. "I'm in this. I just sent my woman away to make sure she doesn't get hurt, but I'm in this. Even if you don't have a plan, you have a shadow until we're off the rock in case the twerp tries something. So what are you up to?"
    "Thanks," Val says after a pause. He is taken by surprise and studies his friend for a moment. Thoughts of Victor had been occupying the sailor for some time, and now that he was back on Bral it was difficult to think of much else. But there was something else more pressing at the moment. Should he tell Emmett about the message? It didn't specifically say to go alone. Then again, it didn't specifically say it was for Val, either....
    "Actually, I was going to see Captain Barthelm," he tells the half-man, still somewhat reluctant to say much in front of everyone. "I'd appreciate the company on the way." He'll be at the Oligarchic Enclave, no doubt, reporting to Volant on the trip.
    Emmett cocks an eyebrow, but decides not to press the matter. "You bet. You won't be able to lose me without trying on this trip."
    Val chats idly with his other companions until they are ready to part ways. It is somewhat of a relief to be able to get away from them all after so many months in space together, but at the same time it is somewhat disconcerting. He had come to feel comfortable around them all (even ibn Fadil, who Val suspects harbors a dislike for the sailor) and it will surely feel strange to suddenly be apart from his shipmates. Not to mention how alone he would feel were it not for Emmett's insistence on being his shadow.
    They see Yestin disembark and head over to talk to a couple of off-duty giff who are hanging around the dock.
    Val also thinks it would be better to keep his distance from the rest of the crew, lest Victor try anything here. Being first mate aboard a Three Trees vessel may afford him some respect and/or loyalty, but he did not want others the get hurt because of his own actions.
    "Noon, day after tomorrow," Val promises, waving to the last of them before departing towards the Three Trees offices.
    Once the two are on their way, Emmett decides it's time to press the matter. "Meeting with the Captain, eh? Think they're making the first mate position a long term one, or something else?"
    "Something else, actually," Val says, but does not elaborate just yet. He is being somewhat cautious still, and keeps his eyes open for any sign of trouble.
    The pair work their way through Bral's crowds, with Emmett's new sword on his back and bullwhip on his right hip making him seem even odder and more threatening than he had last time on the rock. The half-man is scanning the crowd while walking, keeping his eye out for possible tails or threats. The walking arsenal receives a wide berth from the Bralians, and sees nothing he can identify as a threat.
    Meanwhile following several paces behind the duo is the Kensai of Kara-Tur, the Saint of Steel. If Val's current errand involved the Victor then Hiro would not leave the young thief wanting for aid. He observes the crowd like a hawk searching for prey.
    Val stops up short and turns to see who it is that has been following them. "Hiro!" he greets the warrior, somewhat ashamed he did not ask the Kensai to come with him. It is not as if he'd forgotten about the swordsman's commitment back on Janik, but Val did not wish to assume it continued. "I'm flattered," he tells Hiro honestly, offering a warm smile. "I've got an appointment to keep. Want to come along?"
    He nods. "If trouble is afoot perhaps I should remain in reserve or move ahead?"
    "Er... Honestly, I don't know what to expect," Val tells him. Not used to having to plan for things like this, let alone for a small party, he looks to Emmett for guidance.
    "Fall back. There are spells with area effects, Victor is rich enough to hire a mage. Give us 20 feet of berth. Val will be constrained to my speed, and you can outrun me in your sleep, so you're not hardly far away." Emmett shakes his head. "Damn but I'm getting paranoid."
    Val casts Emmett a startled sidelong glance before shaking his head and saying, "Actually, I'd better tell you what's going on first. I found a message aboard the _Distraction_ that said to meet Captain Barthelm when we returned."
    Paranoid or not, they reach the Enclave without any trouble. A somewhat skeptical-looking servant informs them that Captain Barthelm is still closeted with Master Volant, but he will inform the captain that they have arrived, if in the meantime they would wait here, and would they like refreshment....? He looks as if he expects a demand for ale and wenches.
    Emmett fights down the urge to oblige him, but opts for water instead. Well, watered down ale. Val politely refrains from asking for anything, even though his throat suddenly feels dry. After a considerable wait in the elegantly appointed little room the doors at the far end open; a smiling Sidney walks Theo out of his office. "Very well, then, captain, if I cannot keep you longer. But you will sup with us tomorrow?"
    "Nothing would give me more pleasure, sir. By your leave." He bows briefly and turns to the three waiting men. "If you will accompany me to my office, gentlemen, we may talk there."
    Theo's office is, needless to say, not as nice as Sidney's, and it is furthermore almost a foot deep in paper. "Terribly sorry about the mess, I see no one has been in here while I was away. Just move that... there. Please, sit down, all of you." There is a certain glint in his eye as he settles behind the desk. "If you would indulge me for a moment by telling me how you came to be here?"
    Emmett glances over at Val, a little confused. Hadn't Val been invited?
    "Well sir," Val says cautiously as he catches the look from Emmett, "there was a message aboard the _Distraction_ that said to meet with you upon our return..." He drifts off meaningfully as he waits to see what the captain's reaction is.
    "Ah." Theo grins a bit. "I hope you will forgive the theatrics, but it seemed the best means of finding out certain things--I confess I wasn't expecting more than one of you. Something by way of a little test. We're looking for some people who take a certain... inquisitive attitude toward life, shall we say."
    Hiro cocks an questioning eyebrow in the hopes of receiving more information.
    Val is actually quite amused by the "theatrics," as the captain put it. Oddly enough, he is also somewhat flattered by Barthelm's indirect praise. At last, his curiosity has paid off!
    "Delmar has been reporting to me throughout the journey on the crew's performance, and we're quite impressed with how you all handled yourselves, particularly during that business with the xixchil of course. We're looking for a long-term crew for the _Distraction_, people who would be interested in a dangerous but potentially very rewarding mission of exploration for the company." He pauses to gauge their reactions. "People who have proven their abilities, are comfortable operating without too many rules--and have the kind of instincts that lead them to pry into things others might ignore," he adds with a slight smile.
    "You've certainly got *my* attention," Val says with a grin plastered across his face. Another opportunity! "What needs exploring, and what do you mean by 'very rewarding?'" he asks, unabashedly. Something in the back of his mind reminds him that the captain mentioned danger, but he ignores it for now...
    "As part of ongoing operations we do our best to learn more about the spheres, their people - it's simply good business," he tells them. "There are many parts of the Flow that are barely explored, or not at all, and hence represent opportunity."
    "So putting us on the Distraction was a way of finding out if we were the right tools for the job? I hope we qualified." Emmett smiles. "I'm a naturally inquisitive man, personally. Danger doesn't bother me much, either, when it comes down to it."
    "So much we have noticed," Theo smiles.
    Val gives each of his companions a long look before saying anything. Is this the opportunity he had been waiting for? It would certainly keep him out of Victor's way here on Bral. Is that what the captain was trying to do?...
    Emmett matches Val's look, and indicates with a little shake of his head that he doesn't think this is connected with Victor. The thought had crossed his mind too.
    "Who is going to captain the _Distraction_?" Val asks instead, keeping his previous thoughts to himself.
    "And who's going to pilot it. Personally, I think Brother Pham'll be right mad if he's overlooked."
    "Any of the current crew who wish to remain for the long term are welcome to, Brother Pham among them. You have worked well together for a considerable time, and have already been of considerable use to the company. As for the captaincy, Valarin, Delmar tells me he would feel comfortable entrusting the _Distraction_ to your care in a formal capacity. Informally, the long-term crew may make whatever arrangements you find congenial, including the hiring of temporary crew as needed if there are vacancies to fill."
    While Val tries to erase the poleaxed expression from his face, Theo continues. "Without getting into the contractual intricacies, the general form of operation for these ships is that they are prospectors, of a sort, charged with finding new avenues of business for Three Trees, whether that be new items, new peoples, new routes of navigation, etc., or increased capitalization upon known resources. The contract runs five years, during which the long-term crew will accrue a percentage of profits from anything you bring back. If you like, some or all of those profits can be put toward eventual ownership of the _Distraction_.
    "Of course we don't expect a decision right away--our shipwrights are looking over the ship to ensure it weathered the journey well, and of course she'll need resupply. Will you be seeing the others of the crew before the _Twist_ disbursement, to inform them of the offer?"

* * *

    Brother Pham, as always, collects stories as he walks the narrow streets, tunnels, and gangways of Bral. Ordinary stories for the most part, told by ordinary people. He gathers that the creature migrations they noted on their outward journey have ceased to be a matter for talk, although they are still not understood. He gathers that several residents of the Rock have gone missing in recent months, and that people are worried about it. He hears of the departure of the giff ship and the battle that followed. He hears many tales of Fang the Fearless--too many to all be true--and his or her depredations on Three Trees ships. He sees a couple of risque leaflets regarding Simon Victor's vanished wife. He has a faint sense, as he walks through the market that afternoon, that something is wrong.
    

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