Read Online Changeling by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller - Free Book Online

louder. The Port Proctors would soon arrive,
Ren Zel thought, with a sinking sense of relief. All would be--
    Across the room, the pack leader dropped his
man with a flickering knife thrust. He spun, seeking new blood, saw
Suzan's unprotected back--
    "Ware!" Ren Zel screamed, but the word was in
Liaden; she would not know...
    Ren Zel jumped.
    The knife flashed and he was between it and
his co-pilot, one shoulder, covered in tough space-leather, taking
the edge and turning it. Ren Zel spun with the force of the blow,
deliberately using it as he came back around--
    And the bad leg failed him.
    Down he went, the wolf leader atop, and it
was a muddle of shouts and blows and kicks before the quick shine
of the knife, snaking past the leather this time, slicing cloth and
flesh. Ren Zel lashed out, trying to escape the pain. The knife bit
deeper, twisting. He screamed--and was gone.
    * * *
    "MASTER PILOT, I regret," Casiaport
Guildmaster was all but stuttering in distress. "Notification
should have been sent. I swear to you that I will learn why it was
not. However, the fact remains that no hearing has been scheduled.
The case was adjudicated by three first class pilots, fault has
been fixed and the matter is closed."
    Shan lifted his eyebrows, feeling the woman's
guilt like sandpaper against his skin, and she rushed on,
babbling.
    "Guild rule is plain, as the Master Pilot
surely knows. Three first class pilots may judge, in the absence of
a Master--and may overturn, in the case of a disputed
judgement."
    "Guild rule is plain," Shan agreed, in the
mode of Master to Junior, which was higher than he usually spoke
with another pilot. "Though it is considered good form to allow the
Master Pilot in question to know that his judgement has been
disputed."
    "Since I am here in any wise," he continued,
"I will see the file."
    The Guildmaster gasped; covered the lapse
with a bow.
    "At once, Master Pilot. If you will step down
to the private parlor, the file will be brought."
    Shan inclined his head. "Bring also Pilot
dea'Judan, if he is on-Port."
    "Pilot dea'Judan?" the Guildmaster repeated,
blankly.
    "Pilot Ren Zel dea'Judan Clan Obrelt," Shan
explained, wondering how such a one had risen to the rank of
Guildmaster of even so backward a port as Casia. "Surely you recall
the name?"
    "I--Indeed I do." She drew a deep breath and
seemed to recruit her resources, bowing with solemn precision. "I
regret. Ren Zel dea'Judan Clan Obrelt is dead."
    Shan stared. "And yet I ran the license
number through the port's own database just before departing my
ship and found it listed as valid and active."
    The Guildmaster said nothing.
    "I see," Shan said, after several silent
moments had elapsed. "I will review the case file now,
Guildmaster." He turned and walked down the hall to the private
parlor.
    The file, brought moments later by a
pale-faced duty clerk, was thin enough, and Shan was speedily
master of its contents. True enough, his judgment had been set
aside in favor of the cooler findings of three first class pilots,
all of whom flew out of Casiaport Guildhall. Shan sighed, shaking
his head as his Terran mother had sometimes shaken hers, expressing
not negation so much as ironic disbelief.
    There was a computer on the desk. He used his
Master Pilot's card to sign onto the news net and spent a few
minutes tracking down the proper archives, then shook his head
again.
    The legal notices told the story plainly:
Obrelt had been cruelly Balanced into banishing their only pilot
and naming him dead. None that kept strict Code would deal with a
man who had no Clan to stand behind his debt and honor...
    It was the description of the circumstances
surrounding death, fully witnessed by the Eyes of Council, that
sent him once again into the public ways of Casiaport and finally
to the Gromit Company's shabby Mid Port office.
    There, the luck was slightly out, for Pilot
dea'Judan was flying. The man behind the counter, one Christopher
Iritaki, had suggested he