'What did he want?'
'He was hiring to make a ran, empty, to Gudrun, collect a cargo there, and bring it to Hubris.'
The nature of the cargo?'
We never got that far. I turned him down. It was preposterous. He was offering a decent fee, but I knew I'd make ten times that with my regular work.'
'You didn't get a contact name on Gudrun either?'
'My dear inquisitor, I'm just a shipman, not a detective.'
'Do you know who finally took his work?'
'I know who didn't.' He sat forward. 'I happen to keep up dialogues with other masters. Seems several of us turned it down, and most for the same reason/
'Which was?'
'It felt like trouble/
By the fifth day, my sleep patterns had begun to return to normal. Too normal, in fact, as Eyclone began to stalk my dreams again. In sleep, he came to me, taunting and threatening. I don't remember much detail, except the afterimage of his grinning face each time I woke.
In hindsight, though Eyclone was certainly in my dreams, I don't think it was his smiling face I was remembering.
The Essene translated back into real-space and entered the Gudrun system on the morning of the eighth day, ahead of schedule. Maxilla had boasted his ship was fast under optimum conditions and the boast hadn't been empty.
I had made arrangements with him to leave the Empyrean in the outreach of the system, considerably short of the busy local trade lanes that most arrivals to Gudrun followed. He agreed without question. It would only be a short delay.
'Who was she?' Bequin asked me as we stood at an observation bay watching the pale shape of Vibben's shrouded body slowly turn end over end as it drifted away from the Essene.
A friend. A comrade/1 replied.
'Is this how she wanted to go?' she asked.
'I don't think she wanted to go at all/ I said. Nearby, Aemos and Betan-core gazed gravely out of the thick port. Aemos's expression was unreadable. Betancore's dark face was drawn and anguished.
Lowink hadn't joined us, and neither had Fischig. But as I turned, I saw Maxilla standing respectfully at the rear of the observation bay, wearing a long mourning coat of black silk and a short periwig with black ribbons. He moved forward as he saw me look.
'I hope I'm not intruding. My respects to your lost comrade/
I nodded my thanks. He hadn't needed to make this effort, but it seemed appropriate for the ship's master to be present during a void burial.
'I'm not sure how these things are formally conducted, Maxilla/ I said, 'though I think this is what she would have asked for. I have spoken the Imperial Creed, and the Oration of the Dead/