Ship of Fools by Richard Russo Read Free Book Online Page A

wondered if he was thinking about the bishop, and about what trap the bishop might be laying for him.
    He stood up, a little unsteady now, and took his glass with him as he wandered about the room, drinking, looking at everything but me. I gradually became unnerved, but I couldn’t figure out just why.
    “We’ve known each other a lot of years,” Nikos said.
    “Yes. Since I can remember, really.” When we were children, he befriended me when no one else would. Something I would never forget.
    He finally turned to me. “I don’t know what to hope for down there,” he said. “It’s all or nothing now—I can feel it—and too damn much can go wrong.”
    “You said you have a plan to deal with the bishop. Tell me what it is, Nikos. Let me help you.”
    “I can’t, Bartolomeo. Not yet.” He returned to the tableand sat, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m counting on you, Bartolomeo. Whatever happens down there, I’m counting on you to tell me what is really going on, what is really there, to make the right decisions, to give me the best advice.” He drained his glass again, refilled it and refilled mine. “I’m counting on you.”
     
    P ÄR found me in the cathedral the day before we went into orbit around Antioch. We had no meeting scheduled; in fact, we hadn’t spoken in several days. I was in the cathedral hoping to find Father Veronica alone, hoping to speak with her again before we made landfall. But there was no one there. I sat on one of the pews to wait; Pär’s approach was so quiet, I was startled when he slid in beside me. More disturbing was that he knew where to look for me—I had never been known to frequent that place.
    “We’ll be there soon,” he said.
    I nodded. “Tomorrow.”
    “Have you thought about what I asked you?”
    “Yes, I’ve thought about it.”
    “And?”
    “And nothing. I’m still thinking about it.”
    “Bartolomeo, Bartolomeo . . .” Then he coughed out a kind of laugh. “You’re on the landfall team.”
    “Yes.”
    “It would be best if you made a decision before you left.”
    I didn’t like being pressured. The mutiny seemed a reckless and foolhardy undertaking. Even though I understood his arguments for my participation, I refused to be rushed into a decision. There were too many possible outcomes, and almost all of them were bad.
    I finally gave him a shrug for an answer, which didn’t please him.
    “Sari Mandapat is on the landfall team,” he said.
    “I know.”
    “If you haven’t decided before you leave, let her know your decision when you manage to summon enough courageto make a commitment.” He stood, and flashed a sly grin at me. “Say hello to the priest for me next time you see her.” Then he turned and walked away before I could respond.
    But what would I have said? The dwarf knew far too much.
     
    T HE next day we went into geosynch orbit around Antioch, directly above the source of the transmission. Satellite probes were launched; final preparations were made. All or nothing, Nikos had said. He was right, and I was ready.

9
    T HE small ship fell out of the clouds. Came down shaking and shimmying in the wind currents, turbulence that diminished as we dropped farther and then swung around into a more gradual descent. I felt queasy all the way down.
    The shuttle was tiny compared to the Argonos , of course, but large enough to comfortably hold the landing team of thirteen, two pilots, two armored terrain vehicles, and a smaller, faster, and more maneuverable flyer capable of making further exploratory surveys of the planet.
    We watched our descent on video monitors mounted in the ceiling around the cabin, choosing from among several different views of the ground, the sky, even the surface of the shuttle itself. The shuttle’s skin was coruscating metal, color and texture changes popping chaotically across its surface. Every so often it all snapped into focus, a perfect camouflage against the terrain below, but then the focus burst