Halfling Moon Read Free

out for news, of
course; they had but a single ship. If one went, all
accompanied.
    There were, of course, sub-plans to guide
them, committed to memory long ago, and each assuming a
catastrophic impetus. This . . . uneasiness was formed by a
circumstance that, despite the instincts of two grown old in
society, might yet be only happenstance.
    "If we formed a less vulnerable grouping . .
." Kareen murmured, perhaps to herself.
    Oh, they were vulnerable, Luken agreed
silently; never think otherwise! Two silver-hairs, two halflings, a
younger, and a pair of babes-in-arms. Had they been more grown, or
less old --
    Well. Had they been more grown, Korval's
treasures, there would have been no need to hide them away.
    Luken looked to the screens . . . blinked
and looked again.
    "It may be," he said slowly, "that our
decision has been made for us."
    * * *
    It was not the same ship, and it was
possible that they had over-reacted in sending the children to the
Ready Room, the ship keys usually on Luken's belt in Quin's hand,
and the backup keys, in Padi's. Lady Kareen waited with him in the
control parlor, one hand on the back of his chair, watching the
screens over his shoulder, ready to move on the instant through the
panel directly behind them.
    On the screen, the ship approached, slowly,
inexorably.
    "Now . . ." Kareen breathed, and as if in
response the first beacon sent its challenge.
    The approaching ship made answer, properly.
On the master board, Luken saw the beacon begin its countdown from
twelve. If the ship were still range of its sensors when it came
back online, it would die, friend or -- but there, it was past and
on course for the second beacon.
    A ship of the Clan
, Luken thought, but found scant comfort
in the thinking of it. Ships, after all, could be captured; and
pilots subverted. The codes that held their doors against those who
wished to gain Korval's treasures for their own enrichment were not
invincible. And as much as he wished the vessel that was now past
the second beacon and on its way to the third and last, to be the
answer to all their waiting, the closer it came, the more he
mistrusted it.
    "Does it seem to you, good Master
bel'Tarda,"Kareen yos'Phelium murmured in his ear, "that the ship
we see is somewhat too . . . apt?"
    "It occurs to me," he answered, his voice hushed. "One does
so
wish
it to be a Korval vessel . . ."
    "Precisely," she said, suddenly crisp.
    Luken drew a careful breath, and watched the ship in the
screens.
I am too old for this
, he thought
and not nearly clever
enough.
    "The docking computer's been fairly
answered," is what he said aloud. "Will you step aside while I go
to greet our guest?"
    "I'll remain here, I think," she said, not
entirely surprisingly, "and monitor the situation. If matters . . .
clarify, be assured that I know my duty."
    None better,
he thought, and pushed out of his chair, suddenly
feeling all of his years and the accumulated weight of the
children's.
    "I daresay I won't be but a moment," he said
with false cheer, and left the control parlor, heading for the
dock.
    * * *
    Syl Vor sat with the twins, who were being
very good, very quiet, in their separate carriers. That was
precisely as it should be, Quin thought approvingly; Shindi and Mik
were Syl Vor's job until they had to move. If they had to go before
Grandmother was with them, then Syl Vor would pick up Shindi and he
would take Mik, and they'd run as fast as they could, with Padi
bringing up the rear. That was as it should be, too, because Padi
was co-pilot; her charges, the pilot and the passengers.
    Quin, watching the screen, thought that Grandfather and
Grandmother had -- perhaps -- been too enthusiastic in their duty.
Indeed, it was all he could do, to hold to discipline and not open
the door. For surely,
surely
, this was recall at last, for here came a ship
whose pilot held all the proper codes . . .
    "Why don't we have an all-clear?" Padi
demanded, echoing his thought. "The systems accept the