Hellspark by Janet Kagan Page B

it once.”
    Geremy went on, “The very religious call it ‘the Fist of Veschke’ and would say Tocohl had been punished for her many sins.”
    Tocohl waggled a handful of fingers at Geremy insolently, then got on with the business of rearranging the interior panels to create a cabin for Alfvaen.
    “—That must be some planet!” Tocohl finished.
    Maggy pinged for attention. (Two passengers for Flashfever,) she said.
    (Passengers?) said Tocohl in surprise. Only rare circumstances would take people to a world still under survey. Visiting was inadvisable, not illegal, and one stayed only as long as one’s transport stayed.
    Transport stayed at the discretion of the survey captain.
    (Let’s have a look at them,) Tocohl instructed. (Put them on the screen.) Maggy complied. A man and a woman, Sheveschkemen, appeared on the small screen. Both wore severely cut green jumpsuits, lacking any adornment. The expressions they wore were equally severe.
    The woman spoke in GalLing’. “Captain Susumo? We wish to book passage to Flashfever for the duration of your stay.”
    That should have been icing on the cake. Tocohl’s expenses were already covered by swift-Kalat.
    Two passengers would double her profit—and yet Tocohl did not immediately reply.
    Something about the two disturbed her. Then she suddenly had it: here were two Sheveschkemen prepared to leave their planet before the end of festival and neither wore a pin of any sort.
    Neither had gone for Veschke’s Fire!
    (Not worth the risk,) thought Tocohl and only realized she’d subvocalized when Maggy said, (What risk?)
    (The Inheritors of God don’t participate in “pagan” rituals. In fact, I imagine they’d find Veschke particularly hateful. She burned for her refusal to give Sheveschke’s coordinates to exploitive second-wave colonizers,) Tocohl explained briefly. (I won’t risk having Inheritors Page 25

    aboard while Alfvaen is with us. She’s been attacked twice. The first time on Jannisett, when she was framed. The second we interrupted. And one could deduce that the attacks were escalating.) She said aloud, “You’ll have to find other transport. I’m taking no passengers this trip.”
    “What about the Siveyn?” demanded the woman.
    Tocohl glanced coolly around. Only Geremy was within range of the visual pickup.
    Beside the stow-webbing, Alfvaen looked at the screen with surprise and started forward.
    Nevelen Darragh stopped her with a swift hand on her shoulder.
    Geremy, the best of accomplices, shrugged one hand at Tocohl and looked puzzled. Tocohl turned back to the Sheveschkemen. “What about what
    Siveyn?” she asked, with an innocence of expression she’d been practicing since the age of two.
    Unlike Geremy, the woman was no actor. Realizing her error, she inhaled sharply and turned from the screen in an effort to hide her self-reproach.
    Her companion elbowed her aside and began, in a conciliatory fashion, “A friend of ours at traffic control said you’d registered for Flashfever, Captain, and he said something about a Siveyn, so we naturally thought he meant you were taking passengers…”
    (Ping!)
    (Yes, Maggy.)
    (You said nothing to traffic control about Tinling Alfvaen.) (I know. Later, Maggy.)
    The Sheveschkemen finished, “… Perhaps we were given the wrong ship, then.” The woman had disappeared from view, and the man glanced off-screen, paused, then said, “May I ask your destination, Captain?”
    “My destination is Flashfever,” said Tocohl. There was no point in lying—the woman was probably double-checking now.
    “Then it’s only a matter of the fee,” said the Sheveschkemen. “I’m sure we can arrange something that will satisfy you.”
    “No passengers,” repeated Tocohl.
    The Sheveschkem woman returned, angry. “I see no reason for you to deny us passage,” she said.
    “We will ask for a judgment!”
    Nevelen Darragh stepped into visual range. “Ask then,” she said, “I am Byworld Judge