"Opposite the Levantine," Beyazh continued after a deep breath, "across that large bridge midway along the island—is the most impressive basilica ever constructed by the Gradgroat-Norchelites."
"With exception of the great monastery of Atalanta, perhaps," Brim interrupted dryly, trimming the ship's head a little beyond the published landing vector to adjust for a strong crosswind.
"Ah yes," Beyazh said, interrupting his discourse, "I have admired the Atalantan campaign ribbon you wear. You were there at the Battle of Atalanta to see the monastery go, weren't you?"
"No," Brim answered. "I was out in space aboard Regula Collingswood's Defiant," Brim replied. "But I followed the action by KA'PPA after Nik Ursis deciphered the Norchelite maxim."
" 'In destruction is resurrection; the path of power leads through truth,' " Beyazh quoted while his hand unconsciously began to massage the back of Tissaurd's neck. "What a surprise that turned out to be!"
Brim nodded, glancing across at the man just in time to see Tissaurd smile a little, then slap the caressing hand without taking her eyes off the readouts before her.
"Imperial K5054," a Fluvannian controller warned from the COMM panel. "Traffic lightward bound: League cruiser L1037, twelve irals at red-orange."
Brim glanced out the starboard Hyperscreens as a big Gorn-Hoff GH-210 cruiser materialized out of the distance in a tight bank, curving around onto a parallel path into the landing zone. "Thank you, ma'am," he acknowledged, "I have him."
The Leaguer ship was as angular as Starfury was contoured, and had clearly just come directly from outer space because her complex conformation of deck houses and great frowning bridge were still glowing from the heat of entry. She also appeared larger, by perhaps ten percent, although her heterogeneous nature made this nearly impossible to estimate by sight. The bristling armament she carried, however, was anything but equivocaclass="underline" fifteen 321-mmi disrupters were a powerful battery by anyone's reckoning, even though any one of them was smaller than Starfury's twelve battleship-size 406s. Brim watched cautiously as the big ship bore down on him at what seemed like reckless speed—sailing in peacetime rig and war paint, as the saying went.
"Coming this way awfully fast, isn't he?" Beyazh commented in a needling tone of voice. "Do you suppose you ought to give way to him?"
Brim continued steadily on course. "He's probably coming a bit faster than necessary," he said calmly, "but I doubt if he's outside the control envelope for that type of Gorn-Hoff. I'm keeping an eye on him."
Silence descended on the bridge as the crew watched thirty-some thousand milstons of hullmetal bearing down on them like a meteor. Only at the last possible moment did the Leaguers swing onto a new heading, impinging on Starfury's airspace by nearly half a c'lenyt before settling down on a parallel track.
"Sloppy helmsmanship," Tissaurd commented after a few moments, but even her voice had a slight edge to it.
"Do you think perhaps they wanted us to move over?" Brim asked with a grin.
"I was about to suggest something like that," Beyazh said, but there was clear approval in his eyes.
"Imperial K5054: you are four c'lenyts from the marker," announced the controller. "Secure the localizer above two thousand five hundred irals. You are cleared for instrument landing, two seven left approach."
"Cleared for instrument landing two seven left approach Imperial K5054," Brim acknowledged.
Checking his altitude, he gently heeled the cruiser into a shallow bank—away from the Leaguer ship at the same time it banked in the other direction, obviously getting its own simultaneous landing clearance. "I think we'll keep an eye out for that one," Brim said, starting down toward a ruby beacon that had just begun to flash from the distant surface of the Gulf. On the nav panel before him, two units of different hues quickly merged into a third,
"Localizer and glideslope captured," Tissaurd advised.
"Imperial K5054, contact Levantine Tower one two six five five," the Controller directed.
"Good day from Imperial K5054, and thanks for the help," Brim responded.
Moments later Tissaurd was on the blower: "All hands to landing stations. All hands to landing stations." From aft, a siren howled, accompanied by the sound of running feet. Odd bumps and rumbles throughout the bridge spoke of cvceese' mugs and personal gear being stowed in all sorts of unapproved nooks and crannies.
"COMM frequency redirected," Tissaurd announced.
Brim confirmed her on the panel. "Thanks, Number One," he replied. "Imperial K5054 checking in at two thousand on final for two seven left approach."
"Imperial K5054: Tower Levantine clears for two seven left landing approach; wind zero nine zero at fifteen, gusts to forty-five."
The genius of Starfury's designer Mark Valerian always shone like a star during landings. The ship was steady as a rock, in nearly any kind of weather—and today's could only be classed as perfect.
The spoilers deployed automatically at fifteen hundred irals without the slightest rumble or pitch change.
At the helm, one could feel a slight sinking sensation when the speed brakes deployed, but unless you were actually at the controls, it was nearly impossible to notice.
Brim glanced over at Beyazh, who was staring at the back of Tissaurd's head as if the two were alone on the bridge. Grinning, he concentrated on landing the starship. There was a lot of residual thrust from the six big Admiralty A876 gravity generators, so he normally flew right at reference velocity during descents (instead of adding a little speed for windage, as was the practice), unless of course mere were heavy gusts or the possibility of sheer. But if there was too much speed, Valerian's new design wouldn't come to hover at standard elevation; she would simply float on and on and on.
With the ruby landing vector beacon steady in the Hyperscreens, he ignored his urge to flare and kept coming down with the gravs at idle until her gravity gradient kissed the whitecaps and launched great cascades of spray soaring past the side Hyperscreens. These diminished to a broad rolling wake as they bled off energy and Brim blipped the gravity brakes, sending successions of great spray clouds forward that deluged the Hyperscreens as the big ship thundered to a smooth halt with her pontoons hovering precisely twenty-five irals above the three contoured "feet" she pushed in the surface of the bay. Through the overhead Hyperscreens, Brim could see an Imperial flag soaring to the apex of the high KA'PPA tower, followed by a brilliant white ensign emblazoned by Starfury's crest. Clearly, Barbousse was back on the job!
"My congratulations," Beyazh said in an awed voice. "A most perfect landing."
"All in a day's work for this Helmsman," Tissaurd remarked with her sunny grin. "Isn't it, Skipper?"
"Thanks, Number One," Brim said half in embarrassment, but her compliment made him proud as a schoolboy.
Suddenly the voice of Surface Control demanded his attention. "Imperial K5054, intersect one seven right without delay; control buoy six five after you cross, then cleared to Levantine G-pool four sixty-seven. Follow pilot boat ninety-one at boreal river entrance."
"Imperial K5054 crossing one seven right for pilot boat ninety-one," Brim acknowledged, taking up a direct course for an antiquated little watercraft that appeared at the mouth of the river. Abruptly, however, the Gorn-Hoff reappeared from starboard with all flags flying. She was on a collision course with Starfury—and moving much too fast to be in a harbor.