Rose shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it. I just figured we'd be the Black Watch or the Northwind something. What have you got in mind?"
"Well, I thought about all the standard ones—Rose's Rangers, Rose's Roughnecks, et cetera, et cetera. Too boring. If we want to attract quality people, we need a catchy name."
"Such as?"
"The Black Thorns."
"The what?" Rose stopped at the hospital doors and looked at his sister. She was grinning from ear to ear. As he stood there staring, she opened the outer door and walked toward a single cab waiting at the curb. "It's a great name."
"It's a name, all right. Great, I don't know about."
"Just think about it."
Jeremiah nodded without enthusiasm.
"I've got to get back home," Rianna said. "What's the plan for tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow we talk to Angus. If we can come to terms, we're on our way."
"Great. Where are you staying?"
Rose opened the cab door and Rianna flopped inside. "I had my things moved over to the Hightower," he said. "I haven't actually been there yet, so I don't know my room number." Rose closed the door behind her and reached through the open front window to pay the driver in advance. As he waved away the change, Rianna rolled down her window.
"I'll talk to Angus and arrange a time to meet." She held out her hand and Rose grasped it in both of his.
"This is really happening, isn't it?"
"It really is, and Papa's going to be furious."
"Let him." Ria's voice grew hard. "It's my choice and I want this too bad to bow to his selfish desires." Rose did not respond, and Rianna's features softened. "Besides, I'll have almost a month to say goodbye. That should be enough."
Rianna pulled her hand away and the cab inched forward.
"See you tomorrow."
Jeremiah waved as the cab pulled out of the drive and into traffic. Turning in the other direction, he decided to walk the six blocks to his hotel. He could use the time to think and plan. The Black Thorns had been born and he intended to be a good father.
6
Solaris City , Solaris
2 August 3054
"I've told you more than once, Mister Rose. We'll be on the ground in fifteen minutes. Per your instructions, and generous tip, I've moved all your gear to the front of the bay. Sixty minutes from now you'll be past dirtside customs officials and anywhere in the city you want. Please return to your cabin for landing."
Jeremiah Rose was more than prepared to argue with the steward, mostly for the fun of it, but a burst of static over the intercom interrupted him.
"Passenger Jeremiah Rose to the bridge, please. Jeremiah Rose."
Rose looked up at the intercom as if the page were some kind of ruse. Then he shot the steward a narrowed-eye stare. The steward, eyes heavenward, missed the look, but evidently considered the conversation ended as he began to walk away.
"Hold on, slick. This isn't over just yet. When we hit the ground, I'll be at the Level Two cargo doors. Have my black case ready. I guess I can wait for the rest of the gear. Got that?"
"Yes, Mister Rose, black case, Cargo Hold Two."
Rose wasn't sure he could trust the steward to remember the request or the order. Damn civilians. Why couldn't anything ever be easy—or at least predictable?
His mind wandered aimlessly over the point as his feet moved purposefully toward the bridge, three decks up. He was not exactly a stranger to the ship's bridge, but the request to report there was something of a surprise. Until now most of his visits had been rather impromptu and not especially well-received. He decided to pass the lift and take a service ladder. The ladder wasn't exactly a standard entrance, but the lift was faulty even at the best of times and Rose was slightly suspicious of the captain. The ladder had become a standard service pathway during the last two weeks of the trip, even when the lift was operational. Rose reached out to grasp the sides of the ladder and began the short climb. It took less than a minute to reach the bridge.
"Rose reporting as ordered, Captain," he said, noticing the heat of the bridge. The portly captain jumped at Rose's sharp announcement and looked away from his viewer toward Rose.
"So, you're still on the ship after all. When the crew reported you missing during the final cabin check, I thought you'd finally gotten impatient enough to walk."
"The thought hadn't occurred to me, Captain, but now that you mention it . . ."
The captain rubbed a fleshy jowl and glanced toward the lift doors. "Took the ladder, eh?"
"Well, Captain, I wouldn't put it past you to stop the lift between floors just to twist my tail." Rose smiled at the other man as he realized that was just what the captain had intended.
"Well, now that you're here, I just wanted to take the opportunity to say 'bye.' Not 'goodbye.' Not 'God speed.' Not 'see you later.' Not anything but 'bye.' " The captain took a swift look at the screen as the ship shuddered slightly. Two red lights blinked to life on the master console, but he gave them only a brief glance. Though the ship was in the final stages of landing, Captain Waterson was taking the time to speak to Rose. The captain either had plenty of faith in his computers, his crew, or both, or else he had something to tell Rose that just couldn't wait. Jeremiah wondered if he should be concerned about the two red lights.
"Mister Rose, I must say that in over twenty years of commanding a DropShip, I have never, and I mean never, had the occasion to encounter a man like yourself. To say you are universally hated by my crew would be an understatement of major proportions. I am surprised they haven't mutinied just to get you.
"In short, Mister Rose, please take the earliest opportunity to disembark my ship and never, I mean never, return."
"But Captain ..."
"No buts, Mister Rose. No smart answers. No witty replies. Just sit in silence and then leave. Since you will not remain in your cabin, I have decided to allow you to remain here on the bridge. If you keep quiet until we hit the ground, my steward, Mister Pulanski, will personally escort you to the customs office, with your gear."
"Why, Captain ..."
"No words, Mister Rose. Just nod your head. Do we have a deal?"
Rose considered the pleasure of verbally jabbing the captain, but decided that the steward would be a welcome ally in getting off the ship as soon as possible. He smiled and decided to take the offered emergency seat. The captain sighed and rubbed his fleshy neck as he returned to the duties at hand.
With Pulanski's aid, Rose was able to hit the customs office well ahead of the rest of the DropShip's passengers. Pulanski refused to speak with Rose, even when Rose attempted to be polite. Rose didn't really blame the steward for his silence. Just before the final jump to Solaris, the JumpShip had ruptured a fuel cell. Although the danger to the ship and crew had been quickly eliminated, the ship had to remain on-station for more than a month while the damage was being repaired. The delay had meant that Rose would not arrive on Solaris until the final week of the dueling season, practically guaranteeing the failure of his mission.
Caged in the DropShip while repair crews attended to the damaged JumpShip, Rose took out his frustration on the crew and other passengers. Within days he was spending most his time alone. His mood improved slightly when they finally made the jump to the Solaris system, but very few people were willing to spend any time with Rose on the DropShip journey from jump point to planet.