"Full sensor scan," he ordered on the general channel, and a bloom of windows on his console displayed Craig Tau's response from his console in the lab. Rip didn't remove his hands from the pilot console-the Queen's normal thrusters were still powered up, the autopilot now balancing the tall, needle-shaped vessel against the growing gusts of wind. "Floodlights on."

Millions of candlepower flared from the belt of lights circling the Queen's sharp nose, revealing the violent reality behind the pa.s.sionless readouts and displays all around them. Behind him he heard a sudden exclamation from Dane.

"Tooe!"

Rip stole a glance at the linkup to the cargo bay-the autopilot felt stable-and saw Dane scramble up from his console and over to Tooe, who lay almost invisible in the oversize embrace of her acceleration couch. The big man slapped the red medic b.u.t.ton at the head of the couch, then stopped, his hands hovering in indecision. What little Rip could see of Tooe, before his concern over the Queen's exposure to the wind pulled his gaze back to the main screen, was almost the same gray as the utilitarian leather of the couch.

The com crackled to life as Craig Tau responded to the emergency signal. "She's grav-sick," said Tau, looking directly at him from the screen. "I need to stabilize her right away; she's very shocky, if I'm reading her right. You can move her safely."

Rip swore he could feel Dane's and Ali's gazes on him. Was that just the knowledge of his responsibility as captain here, or was it a psi-borne emotion from Dane? "Rip? I want to get her down to the lab right away."

Rip swiveled around in his now upright seat as Craig's face winked out. "Dane, go ahead and take her. Ali, grab an echo from his console and monitor."

The cargo-bay linkup blanked, and Rip turned his attention to the main screen once more. He studied what the floodlights revealed, which wasn't much. He saw the shapes of tall trees that reminded him of Terran redwoods; the frequent lightning flashes indicated some kind of foliage, though he couldn't see details. This storm was only a few hours deep at the speed it was moving, not much more than a squall line for this planet, but the variap radar had indicated some savage wind shears in it, as well as the telltale hooks of incipient tornadoes.

But their landing spot was clear enough, if Stotz was right.

"Ali, deploy the guy-bots," he ordered; moments later the m.u.f.fled report of the guy cannons in the nose of the Queen rumbled through the bridge. At the edge of the light he could see the squat form of one of the eight-legged bots splash into the mud. It stumped forward a few meters and then squatted down, the cable linking it to the ship glistening like a spider-web in the light from the Queen. A brief burst of light under the bot's belly hurled steam and spray in every direction as it explosively augered an anchor into the ground. The explosions under the three bots, equilaterally deployed around the ship, tapped mildly at the soles of his boots, reminding him to demag them. Then the Queen creaked and her slight swaying diminished rapidly as the winches tightened the guys.

"No wonder Stotz made such a fuss over them, back on Canuche," said Ali. "Always seemed like a luxury, until now-kind of thing Macgregory would have on his yacht."

"I'm sure he does," replied Rip, smiling as he turned away from the console and stretched in relief. "But Johan isn't one to be taken in by glitter."

A moment later the hatch opened, revealing Dane and Craig Tau.

"She's still out, but stable," said Tau as they entered. "It may have been more the psychological shock than the physical, since her vital signs tightened up right away." He shook his head, his expression rueful. "She seemed to be adapting so well-with those hollow bones and their hybrid calcium system she was building up good bone ma.s.s. I don't know what happened."

Rip nodded. He cast a glance at Thorson, saw mostly the top of the cargo master's yellow head. His gaze was on the decking, a sure sign of a somber mood.

Then he realized that the others were looking at him in silence, waiting for orders.

Tau spoke first. "We're cabled down and sealed up. What do the sensors say?"

"Humanoid infrared and carbon dixoide traces, ma.s.s at high end of human scale," Ali replied as Tau leaned over to look at the display.

"Humanoid?" Dane looked up in surprise. "Pirates? They landed?"

Ali gave an elaborate shrug. "Can't be native life; Tau says that's confined to the oceans, and though there's apparently plenty of it, none of the varieties match the standards for sentience." He sent a look at Rip. "So. ?"

"So no one goes out until we have light," Rip said slowly.

"Meantime, standard procedure: we'll break out the sleep-rods and set up watches. Ali, send out query signals, in case whoever is out there is legit. We've got low tide right now, so the EM shouldn't be a problem for a little while."

Ali shook his head. "Still a lot of interference, but I'll keep trying. Captain Jellico is still in range, for another two hours," Ali said, glancing at his chrono. "Want me to report?"

Again Rip looked at the others, saw Stotz shake his head slightly.

"No," Rip said, now sure his first instinct was right. "Just bounce the safe-down signal off the moon and let it scatter. Ya will pick it up. Beyond that we have to a.s.sume that whatever we say will be overheard. We'll only contact the Queen if there's an emergency."

Ali's brows rose faintly. "Aye," he said, tapping at keys.

Tau and the others left to return to their stations.

Rip stayed in the command chair, watching the blank com screen. Ali sent the query, to no response. Time pa.s.sed slowly; for something to do. Rip called up the infrared sensor reading from Tau's instruments, and saw blurry shapes indicating beings whose body temps ranged well within humanoid limits. They were in cl.u.s.ters, some of them relatively near the ship. a.s.sault dugouts-or shelters?

But an hour pa.s.sed, and then another, and nothing happened. No communication, no movement of anything besides slowly subsiding wind and heavy rain outside the ship.

Rip thought of something, and reached to tab the intercom. "Tau?"

"Here." The medic's voice came from his lab.

"How far is the range on your temperature sensors?"

"Just our immediate surroundings. But unless they can baffle my readings, our neighbors haven't moved."

"Thanks." Rip tabbed off, feeling the unaccustomed pressure in his hand joints. He absently flexed his fingers.

After a time the intercom blinked, and Rip keyed it.

Tau's voice said, "I have fine-tuned my readings as much as I can, and I don't find any evidence of a ship."

From the engine room came Stotz's voice, "You wouldn't, if their ship's gone totally cold."

"How often do we ever go totally cold? Even when we're planeted for a lengthy stay, we're at low power in order to run life support, the computers, and hydro." Tau sounded calm and matter-of-fact.

"True," Stotz returned somewhat drily. "But it's good to note all possibilities."

Rip realized the others were not so much reporting as reminding him of the many aspects of the situation that he might overlook, but no one wanted to come right out and say so. He felt a weird mixture of grat.i.tude and irritation; the latter mostly at himself for not projecting the kind of competent front that was second nature to Jellico. He probably had his crew convinced he was in perfect control the very first time he took command", Rip thought. He sighed, feeling the unaccustomed grip of gravity as tension in the back of his neck and across his brow. Rubbing his fingers around his eye sockets, he considered the medic's words. His thoughts were distracted by the sense that he was being watched by someone familiar. He turned-and Dane Thorson appeared in the hatchway, looking tired and slightly apologetic.

"One thing we never found out," Dane said, "was whether the Ariadne had its full crew complement on board when she was hijacked by Flindyk's gang. If they split their crew and left half here, the Ariadne could go back to Exchange with a full cargo, return with supplies, and find a cargo waiting to be loaded right away."

Ali whistled. "Never thought of that-but you might very well be right, Viking."

"It makes sense," Rip said slowly. "We've been running that same ship with a half-crew, so we know it can be done."

"If it's so," Ali said, tapping idly at his console, "then we're the pirates. At least, so we'd appear to them. They have to have a 'scope-if we'd split crew like that, a good telescope would be as important as a comlink."

"So. if they saw the Ariadne in orbit overhead, then they know we have their ship," Dane said. He winced and gave his head a shake. "Bad way to find out their crewmates joined Sanford Jones and his ghost ship."

Rip laid his palms on his knees. "I know what I have to do." He keyed the com screen to life. "Ali, let's broadcast on a spread-spectrum signal on the Trade band."

Ali stretched out his hands over his console, but paused and looked up, his mouth wry. "You know, our neighbors outside could very well be pirates."

. Rip took a deep breath, then shook his head. "We'll have to take that chance."

Ali gave a slight shrug and went to work.

The red light above the com screen changed to green, which meant that Rip and the others on the command deck were being broadcast. Rip gave a twitch to his Free Trader uniform, and said, "I am Rip Shannon, piloting the Solar Queen. In orbit is the ship once named the Ariadne, now named the North Star. We found her in orbit in the Mykos system; our snapout intersected with her orbit." Slowly, calmly, he told the story.

At the end, he had Ali broadcast two tapes from the log: their first contact with the Ariadne, showing plainly the scoring down her side, and "Starvenger," the false name provided by the pirates, painted on her hull.

Then he had Flindyk's arrest and arraignment broadcast as well.

It was a risk, to reveal themselves without knowing who might be watching, and to what end. Rip hated talking to a one-way vidscreen. But he felt it was the least they owed the Ariadne's crew-if the unknowns were the Ariadne's crew- and he noted that neither of the others protested further.

When he was done, he said slowly, watching the com light over the receiving screen, "And so that's why we're here. We have the Charter, issued by the Trade Commission, and we're here to mine cielanite. I'm sorry to have to be the bearer of this news." He felt the end was lame, and winced as he reached to tab the comlink off.

For a protracted moment all three waited, and when there was no response, Rip looked around at the others. "Meanwhile, since there isn't much else we can do, why don't we eat, and those not on watch can get some rest? If we've got a rough night ahead, let's be ready for it."

Dane went out first, Ali staying behind on watch. Rip noted slowness and awkward angles in the cargo master's movements. Rip stood up, felt his head twinge, and his stomach muscles gripped warningly. He winced, and took some time to work his muscles before descending the ladder. Landing the Queen had left him with a body full of knots.

He'd expected that the long journey through hyper, with its pseudo gravity, would readapt them to full acceleration, but it seemed not. That worried him. Was the psi just part of something else that was happening to them? Or was the rest of the crew adapting to the new conditions in Kanddoyd s.p.a.ce, where variable gee was the norm?

As he ran through a set of muscle-loosening movements, he reflected on the fact that he hadn't skimped in working out on the weight machines. Tau had made certain that they all did their time in the workouts, to keep up the level of calcium in their bones despite the microgravity shifts. It wasn't that Rip's muscles ached, but that everything still felt a little out of place.

Finally he moved out with care and descended the ladder. Standing on the deckplates next to the ladder to the next level was Dane Thorson. The cargo master made a face as he rubbed his temples.

"Fall?" Rip asked.

Dane grinned sheepishly. "Nope. Moved too fast, I guess. Almost took a dive through that hatch-hit my forehead." He jerked his thumb behind him.

"Tooe all right?" Rip asked.

"That's where I'm headed. Craig asked me to check on her," Dane said.

Rip shook his head. He knew the little Rigelian had spent time on Exchange in the Terran-gravity areas, but that al-ways had been for short periods. Remembering what he felt like when he visited the heavy-grav Shver area on Exchange, he could understand why she'd collapsed. "Let me come with you."

They found Tooe lying on her bunk. Sinbad, the Queen's cat, sat near her head, grooming himself. To all appearances he was completely unconcerned about the sudden return to gravity.

As soon as Tooe saw Rip and Dane she made a valiant effort to get up. "Tooe work now," she said, but her eyes were half-closed, her pupils huge with her effort.

Rip looked in dismay at the webbed crest that stretched over her skull from brow to nape. It was limp and grayish blue. Her fingers were stiff with the effort it took her to remain upright, and the coloring of her scaled skin had dulled from her normal, healthy blue-green to a kind of greenish gray that really did, look like the use-scarred synth-leather of the Queen's acceleration couches.

"I'm getting Tau," he said.

Dane motioned to Tooe. "Get back in that bunk."

"I work, me," Tooe said. Even her voice seemed flattened.

"No you aren't," Dane said. "Any more than I'd be up and working if I had just landed on the Shver planet. Your body has to adjust, and it takes time."

Jasper appeared just behind Rip, his naturally pale face looking strained.

Rip slid out of Tooe's cabin, leaving Dane there to rea.s.sure his apprentice.

"Is she all right?" Jasper asked.

"I'm about to send Tau in," Rip said. "Though she's insisting she can get up and take her shift, so she can't be dying. Problem?"

Jasper grimaced. "Nothing that a dose of free fall couldn't cure. Wonder why she never had problems during the geeshifts in hyper?"

"Tau's working on that. Go get some sleep," Rip said.

"We don't know what's going to happen-or how long it'll take when it does happen. Someone needs to be fresh."

Jasper gave a nod of agreement, and, working his neck, disappeared. Rip followed more slowly, his mind a jumble of different thoughts all needing immediate focus. Remembering what Jellico had told him once, he made himself stop in the galley. Mura had coffee waiting-a silent testament to the stresses of the landing.

Rip picked up a mug, making sure it didn't tip. For a moment he watched the liquid behaving like liquids were supposed to-only it looked strange. Half of command is knowing how to get your emergencies into priority order, the captain had said. Rip sipped half of the coffee, trying to get his thoughts sorted. Then he set the mug down and left.

When he reached the cargo deck, he met Craig Tau coming out of Tooe's cabin.

"I thought she was coming out of shock," the medic said, shaking his head ruefully. "But her hybrid metabolism went right through homeostasis into overdrive, trying to force calcium into her bones in response to the gee stress. The sudden calcium depletion hit her synapses hard and made her nervous system unstable." He rubbed his temples. "It seems the adaptation shifts weren't long enough to really switch her over to a high-gee metabolism, so it hit her all at once."

"Prognosis?" Dane asked.

"She'll live," Tau said. "I've got her on a heavy calcium replacement drip, and we'll transition her to liquids and then solid food." He frowned wryly. "I should have seen it sooner. Her body was trying a little too hard too fast."

"That's Tooe," said Rip.

The medic turned to him. "Speaking of too much, your advice to Weeks was good-and I think you should follow it. I don't think anything is going to happen for the remainder of the night, but if it does, you'll be the first to know."

Rip opened his mouth to argue, but his brain wouldn't supply the words. He realized it would be foolish to force himself to stay awake, like some kind of trash-vid hero. If I do, my commands will make as much sense as theirs do, he thought with an inward laugh. "I'm off, then. Thanks."

A few minutes later he stretched out gratefully on his bunk, and fell asleep.

It seemed about five minutes later the buzz 'of his alarm speared into his dreams. He fought for consciousness. It was like swimming up from the bottom of a well, with an anchor dragging at his body. No, with a s.p.a.ceship sitting on his chest, holding him under water.

With difficulty he forced his eyes open..

The s.p.a.ceship on his chest was gravity. He stayed flat, doing relaxing breathing. Slowly a semblance of energy returned, and he sat up with care, then got to his feet. A needle-hard hot shower helped more, and he dressed as quickly as he could, resolving to drink something stimulating before he did anything else.

He found Dane and Frank Mura in the galley, both looking tired. The steward nodded at a fresh pot of jakek, with mugs stacked beside it. No more drink-bulbs. Rip poured some liquid into the mug, hefting its weight. Some things felt comfortingly natural, and mugs of hot liquid rated high on the list.

"Storm's abated," Dane said.

"Heavy fog moving in." The new voice was Johan Stotz's. "But that force-five wind has died out, at least."

"Good," Rip said, swallowing another hot mouthful of the jakek. "Let's take a look around."

"Cap'n would want you covered," Stotz said.

Rip nodded. "Two of you in the main hatch, sleeprods. We'll take 'em as well." He finished the drink, then glanced at Dane, who plainly was waiting. "Let's get it over with."

Shortly after that he and Thorson stood in the main lock, and Rip tabbed the outer hatch. They watched as the ramp lowered, and a wave of cold, wet air blew in and bathed Rip's face. He smelled salt and greenery and an odd trace of scent that reminded him strongly of damp wool, and he sneezed.

Next to him, Dane sneezed as well. They'd been used to the sterile ship's air so long, Rip had forgotten the rich scents of a planet-not that he'd smell them for long. Already his nose was clogging up, and he made a mental note to visit Tau first thing, a.s.suming they returned safely, and get sprayjected for allergies.

The ramp boomed softly to the muddy ground. Behind them the ship was silent; she'd had plenty of hours to cool down from the descent. The ramp lights glared in the weak light of the thick fog. Rip made out a tangle of huge trees, so tall their tops were lost in the fog. He shivered in his tunic; he was also unused to weather.