“What do I say?” asked Loaf.
“Try, ‘Bring in the field controls, ship,’” answered Vadesh.
At that moment Rigg made a connection. Vadesh was telling Loaf to speak to the ship and give it an order. Father had taught Rigg a special command language. He had said it was a way to rule the stars. It wasn’t a real language at all, of course. Just a series of numbers and letters, which Rigg had had to memorize and repeat every few days, then weeks, then years. Father wouldn’t tell him how they might rule the stars, and no matter how many times Rigg repeated the sequences that Father called “words” in this command language, the stars never did anything. Rigg had called him on this once, and Father had looked at him as if he were a child—which he was—and said, pityingly, “It doesn’t work here,” as if Rigg should have known that.
Now Rigg was inside a starship. And an expendable just like Father was telling a human to issue commands.
Loaf had already spoken the command while Rigg was thinking back and making the connection. One of the doors opened and a low cart slid in along the track, then transferred automatically to the table in front of where Loaf was sitting.
Loaf looked at the array of instruments rising from the control panel; as he did, he lowered the hand holding the jewels, but kept it open.
Rigg stepped closer, as if to look at the controls as well. He even pointed toward something with his left hand, reaching across Loaf’s body to do it. “I know this part,” murmured Rigg. As he did, he grasped the jewels in his right hand.
Maybe the business about the jewels had all been nonsense, but maybe not. Rigg wanted them in his hand when he spoke the words of command. And Loaf made no protest.
Father had told him that the first and most important word was named “Attention,” and Rigg began to recite it.
“F-F-1-8-8-zero-E-B-B-7-4—”
Vadesh glanced down, saw that Loaf no longer held the jewels, and then reached out to the control panel and touched a certain spot on the side.
The whole top of the control panel flipped back out of the way, revealing an open box.
“3-3-A-C-D-B-F-F—”
In the box was something alive. A facemask.
He’s going to flip it up onto one of us, Rigg knew at once. He could try to prevent it, but that was useless, Vadesh was too strong, he had proven that already. So all Rigg could do was finish the word of Attention. For it was clear to him now t
hat this was what Vadesh had feared—that Rigg would start reciting this sequence while holding the jewels. Beginning the word had prompted Vadesh to act; finishing the word was the only thing that Rigg could do.
So when Vadesh did indeed flick out a hand, quicker than either Loaf or Rigg could react, Rigg did not let it stop him or mix up the word.
“1-zero-5. Attention.” Rigg hadn’t known whether that was just a repetition of the name or part of the word, but he said it all just as Father had taught him to recite it.
The facemask flipped up out of the box and slapped wetly onto Loaf’s face. Loaf’s whole body stiffened, shuddered.
“Ready,” said a gentle voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.
“4-A-A-3, I am in command,” said Rigg.
“You are in command,” said the nowhere voice.
Vadesh pushed Loaf backward off the chair and lunged toward Rigg.
“Protect me from the expendable!” cried Rigg.
Vadesh stopped instantly, still posed in mid-lunge.
Loaf lay on the floor against the back wall. His face was completely covered by the facemask.
“2-F-F-2. Information. What is this room?”
“Revival and medical chamber,” said the voice.
“What is its purpose?”
“To bring humans out of stasis and revive them. To treat any maladies that have arisen.”