Orphans - Kevin Killiany [3]
“Tolan!” Nazent’s voice cut through the industrious murmur of the hall. “Where are you?”
“Here.” Tolan rose. “The slackness of my host forced his sons to hold court in his stead.”
“Ha. Then you are in good hands,” Nazent said. “I can retire in peace.”
“Not before we eat!”
The cousins linked arms, making their way toward the head table, which was arrayed with an overabundance of food. No doubt the Householder had delayed his entrance to give Cook time to present this feast. Thus is the loyalty of servants earned.
As Nodoc, borne in his chair, followed, Naiar made a business of righting the basket and returning it to its place.
A magical beast, perhaps following the gnomes? If friend, a valuable ally. If foe, a worthy opponent. By the time he reached the sideboard, the nature of Naiar’s proving quest had undergone another change.
CHAPTER
2
Four fours of days before the Quest
The da Vinci was spiraling madly.
Centered on the main viewer was a dark blue-gray cylinder, nearly invisible to the naked eye against the blackness of space. With nothing to provide scale, its size was impossible to determine, but there was an unmistakable sense of mass. The thing was huge. Beyond it the field of stars was a sheet of diagonal streaks. At irregular intervals the image of the cylinder would jerk minutely and the streaking stars changed angle as the da Vinci altered orbit.
Captain David Gold sat in his command chair and tried to convince his inner ear that the spinning sensation was all in his imagination. By trial and error he had determined this was most successful when he remained seated.
“Sensors are still unable to penetrate beyond the outer levels,” Lieutenant Commander Mor glasch Tev announced from one of the aft science stations. “We’ll have to get closer.”
Gold could tell from the set of his shoulders that Songmin Wong did not like the idea. He didn’t blame the conn officer; he knew enough about piloting to appreciate the concentration needed to hold the da Vinci in a circle less than a light-second in diameter at warp one.
“What will that gain us?” he asked his second officer.
The Tellarite stifled an impatient sigh. Gold doubted Tev would ever lose his arrogance—he’d earned it honestly—but it was good to see him learning to curb expressing it.
“It will not be possible to determine that until we have gotten closer,” Tev replied. “But based on our last course adjustment, sensor efficacy should increase by four percent.”
“Wong?”
“We’re near tolerances now,” the young lieutenant replied, leaving the implications hanging.
“You recommend?”
“Pulling out to sixty-three thousand kilometers,” Wong answered promptly. He’d clearly been giving the matter a lot of thought while fighting to hold the da Vinci in place.
“Faugh,” said Tev. “That’s no better than leapfrogging.”
Gold sat for a moment, considering the four percent. They needed more information; he wanted to have at least the outline of a plan in hand before the others arrived. But it would do him no good if he damaged his ship getting it.
Perversely, his left hand itched. It had been doing that when he was frustrated ever since he got the biosynthetic replacement after Galvan VI. Knowing it was psychosomatic, and knowing it was a common experience with prosthetics, did nothing to make the sensation go away.
“Your choice,” he said to Tev.
“Continuous scans offer the best chance of penetration.”
Gold nodded. “Wong, take us out to sixty-three thousand kilometers and continue spiral.” He stood up, resisting the urge to scratch his prosthetic hand as he made his way to the turbolift. “I think everyone’s had a chance to chew on the data. Haznedl, notify the team we’ll be meeting in ten minutes.”
“Captain!”
The urgency in the tactical officer’s voice brought Gold up short.
“What is it, Shabalala?”
“There’s a Klingon”—he paused for a moment, evidently rechecking readings on his board—“warship approaching at warp five. It has not responded to hails.”
“Better make that fifteen minutes, Haznedl,” Gold said as he returned to his chair. “And call