"The easiest questions may be your most recent. The Scouts I travel with are, as a unit, security and support. One is a med tech, each is a specialist. Consider them for argument sake, if you will permit yourself a moment of absurdity, my bodyguards."
Theo thought about that; sighed and acknowledged, accept.
"Excellent. I am here, we are here, because it was likely that in fact you would be here or within hailing distance, and because the task I am set to by the Scouts has a thread which runs through Volmer. As a haven for Juntavas in the past it has been a place where Scouts and the even less reputable might from time to time have discourse on many subjects.
"So, that is the immediate why of here and who."
He paused, and surprised her by reaching inside the collar of his shirt and pulling out a necklace matching her own. Made clumsy by the wrist shields, he pulled the chain over his head and placed it on the table between them, one finger on the pendant cylinder. He looked into her eyes.
"This, my friend, and the one you wear, are the start of all of it, as well as I can manage the story. I will tell it to you, requesting you share the information only on a true need-to-know basis."
She nodded, but he was already moving on, seeming to look at her and through her at the same time.
"In my travels immediately after my contract wedding, I was started as a courier to deliver a ship, before my long-term assignment was to begin. I had cause to visit a—let me call it a site—requiring periodic maintenance of various reporting equipment. This site is one where, in the distant past, various objects and devices of doubtful source and design were sequestered from polite commerce, and in that distant past the planetary site was manned. My duties were simple: to be assured that the airlocks still functioned, that the holds still held, and that the sovereignty of our organization over it was not in doubt. This particular assignment was one of what they call the 'garbage runs' that Scouts must make from time to time, personal observations being important, and besides, Scouts need to be kept busy and in training, even between long-term assignments."
Theo tried to concentrate on Win Ton's words and not on his face. There was something there she wasn't used to seeing in him, a reserve beyond simple attention to his own story, or a distraction.
Impulsively she asked, "Are you in pain?"
Win Ton bowed slightly to her.
"Another question we shall arrive at in good time. Suffice it to say that at the moment I feel no pain. And that so, we continue."
Theo felt the hair on the back of her neck tingle and involuntarily looked behind her, perhaps to the very spot Win Ton looked, for again he was not looking directly at her. If there was anything there, it was invisible to her eyes, and she returned her attention to his face.
"While I arrived at the happy news that most of the items on my checklist and inventory were in fine order, I discovered much to my surprise that there was, among the expected items, one that was listed on no manifest. It being anomalous, I explored.
"I am not quite the aficionado of ancient technology that Captain sig'Radia is, but what I found in plain sight appeared to be an antique ship."
He smiled, as if there was an amusing secret to be revealed.
"When I say antique I mean one in which the mount points for add-ons are all of what we now think of as 'legacy' and inadequate; but still the lines were attractive and it sat close enough to the rest of the assemblage that I considered its location not an accident. There were no signs of egress or return, and conditions were such that when I approached, I left footprints in the surface dust."
He smiled again. "Indeed, I was pleased to leave footprints, to and fro. In any case, in size my mystery was no battleship or trade monster, let us say just large enough to carry Torvin in the main hold."
The mention of Torvin made her smile, and gave her useful scale. Not a tiny ship, just sitting—
"No pad, no guidance markers, no—?"
He waved his hands lightly. "No, no . . . not a place outwardly inviting landing, I think. Certainly there are no current incoming guidance or landing markers which might be regarded as invitation . . .
"Standard hailing having failed, despite the signs of the ship being on low power, and finding no signs of human life on the various scans available to me, I approached, with imaging on. And arriving at an available airlock, I pressed cycle, fully expecting the works to fail."
He glanced toward the ceiling, then gave her a strained grin.
"My expectations were dashed. The ship opened to me. As it did I could feel systems working within, and thus welcomed, I toured it.
"The crew quarters were fit for six or eight, with a separate family suite. In addition, there was a small passenger section which might hold perhaps six more. There was one large hold, as I said, and several smaller. There was a medical tech room with a quite amazing array of equipment—and I was dutifully amazed by it. The bridge itself was for the most part dark when I entered, and more crowded than we are used to, but lights came up and I . . . overstepped."
Theo raised an eyebrow. "You sat at the captain's console, and the defenses nearly killed you?"
He blew air through his lips lightly, a long sigh.
"No," he said slowly. "No. Your story would be happier than mine, I fear. True, I did sit, and I thought I sat in the captain's chair, at the front, with the copilot's seat to the left and a worktable with odds and ends upon it between. As I settled, the screens before me lit.
"Antique Terran ships have not, until now, been my specialty, Theo. I saw the letter approximating B on screen and discovered that I taken the copilot's place, as Terrans and Liadens oft mirror-image things. The screen politely requested that the copilot insert a command key. On the table between there were two chains with keys, each in their own depressions, and several cups in cup tunnels, and I grabbed up the key closest to me, which was the one I could reach, and I held it in my hands for some moments, considering that I should not, perhaps—and then considering that I must, after all, make a report and a fuller report would be better than none.
"So, grasping the key, I inserted it, firmly, and turned it to the right."
He paused to attend to his tea, raising the cup in two hands and sipping uncertainly.
Theo sighed. "It did occur to you that this wasn't smart, but you did it anyway."
He lowered his cup to the tabletop and looked into her eyes. "I cannot help myself, Theo. The curiosity overrules sense, which is ridiculous."
She nodded. "Then what?"
"Then, the ship asked for my palm on an outlined reader surface. I did as it asked, and felt several tingles of low-dose static, and then the screen turned several colors under my palm. I was even sampled for blood, I believe, as I got nicked! A light went on, and a nice musical note sounded.
"I raised my hand and the ship truly woke. The screen displayed a new message: 'Bechimo welcomes our copilot. Registry in progress.' Then, it proceeded to detail to me the state of the vessel, which considered itself fully fueled and at one hundred and thirty-seven percent of rated power. It showed condition of airlocks, of scan cameras and radar and vision checks, rated the meteor shields and defense screens, and proceeded to offer six different weapons systems.
"At that point, I thought it best to call in the experts. The tech which the Scouts had stored at this site was all Old Tech, and I had no reason to consider this ship anything but more of the same, despite it telling me that it was willing to fly; despite that it was suggesting courses, despite that it was updating star charts and energy field information to match current observations.
"Cautious too late, I turned the interlock, and turned the key to off."
He demonstrated at the nonexistent console in front of him.
"The ship noted this, and requested that I remove my key."
He waved his hand at the screen that was not there.
"This, I did." He shook his head, slowly.
"Registry complete, is what it told me, Theo, registry complete."
She shrugged. The ship would have had to acknowledge, after all . . .
"Ah, but you see, the ship continued with its work. Star chart systems continued to function. Air gauges proved the ship habitable. Defense systems were now on."
That was wrong. Theo opened her mouth to say so, then simply shook her head.
"Yes," he said wearily, "overstepped, and an idiot besides. And now, rather than having only my single ship to worry about I had two live ships on the surface, and one of them I knew nothing about. Surely the systems were close enough that I might fly Bechimo, if I dared, but what then of the remainder of my assignment?
"Thus I hit on the plan of removing the keys, both copilot and captain, locking the ship behind me, and continuing my rounds."
Theo touched the chain around her neck.