A Dark and Hungry God Arises by Stephen R. Donaldson

casual as ever, he asked Scorz, Who is it this time?'
    A sigh of relief or trepidation seemed to spread away from him around the bridge. !He didn't say, ' Scorz reported as if he were fighting a knot in his throat, 'but I think it's the same bastard they sent last time. '
    Involuntarily Nick recoiled as if he'd been hit. 'Him?'
    he snapped. His calm was gone in an instant; forgotten.
    'Here?'
    'I think so, ' Scorz offered hesitantly. 'He sounds the same. '
    A laser of inspiration shot along the synapses of Nick's brain; his nerves were ablaze with coherent light. The same bastard they sent last time. Not some regulation Amnioni off Tranquil Hegemony.
    Marc Vestabule.
    Which meant that somebody on Enablement, some Amnion 'decisive, ' had anticipated this situation. Anticipated Captain's Fancy's survival in the gap. Anticipated Nick's escape to Thanatos Minor. Otherwise why was Vestabule aboard Tranquil Hegemony?
    'By damn, ' Nick murmured in wonder, 'they weren't trying to kill us with those gap drive components. '
    He was impressed in spite of himself. They were testing their equipment. Using us to see if those components worked. '
    None of Mikka's watch understood him: he was too far ahead of them. Mikka herself scowled like a shout of frustration. Arkenhill and Karster stared at Nick with their mouths open. Ransum squirmed in her seat as if she had skinworms. Liete seemed caught between Nick's excitement and her own incomprehension.
    Only Vector was quick enough to follow Nick's reasoning.
    'But what are they for? he protested quietly. They would have killed us if we hadn't aborted tach. ' He may have been trying to remind Nick that he'd once saved Captain's Fancy.
    'Not for the gap, ' Nick answered as if he were sure.

    'For acceleration. ' Almost in awe, he added, 'Imagine what a tub like Calm Horizons could do at. 9C. '
    'Oh my God, ' Sib groaned.
    Around the bridge voices swore. Nick ignored them and went on thinking.
    Nothing on Earth - nothing in human space — could be defended against a super-light proton beam fired from a warship traveling at. 9C. If the Amnion ever decided to abandon their strategy of nonviolent imperialism, they wanted to be sure they would win.
    So Davies Hyland was just a smoke screen. What the Amnion really wanted was to kill Nick; kill Captain's Fancy. Before he or his ship warned human space.
    But they had to do it in a way that concealed the truth.
    A way that kept their secret hidden - and preserved their reputation for honest trade on Billingate.
    No, it was too big: the conclusions were too large to be drawn from such small evidence. Nevertheless Nick felt the presence of possibilities so vast that he could only guess at their dimensions.
    Milos Taverner was coming to Billingate. With Angus Thermopyle. Superficially that made no sense whatsoever. Beneath the surface, however, it stank of Hashi Lebwohl. Nick had no trouble making that kind of intuitive leap.
    He could only speculate about the nature of Lebwohl's intentions; but he didn't really care what they were. The important point was that when Milos and Angus arrived, he would have a direct conduit to the UMCP.
    Together that conduit and his new information might be enough to make the entire United Mining Companies fucking Police back him up.
    All he needed was time.
    'Scorz, ' he said as if he were calm again; as if his excitement were a kind of peace, 'tell Vestabule an escort is on the way. We'll open the door for him in a couple of minutes. '
    As the communications second hurried to obey, Nick turned to Liete. 'You're on. Get a gun - take Simper with you. ' Just to remind at least this one Amnioni that Nick Succorso was prepared to defend himself. 'Bring that fucker here. '
    Her eyes flashing like a salute, Liete Corregio left the bridge.
    As he watched her go, Nick felt a stirring in his groin.
    For the first time since he'd learned of Morn's treachery, he wanted a woman.
    Scorz was right: the emissary was Marc Vestabule. Anyone