Read A Working of Stars Online
Authors: Debra Doyle,James D. Macdonald
A Working of Stars (7 page)
The pair of outer-family administrators with whom she’d been working all afternoon—first generation syn-Dariv by adoption, which meant they were ambitious up-and-comers—had been talking about differential rank and compensation scales for the last half-hour. The conversation seemed to press down upon her like a pillow, vast and formless and smothering. What was she doing here, anyway? She’d missed this month’s theatre-arts group meeting already—
She caught sight of her cousin Herin filling a crystal mug with
uffa
at the nearest urn. With a skill honed over years of family conclaves, she detached herself from the two syn-Dariv and bore down upon her cousin.
uffa
at the nearest urn. With a skill honed over years of family conclaves, she detached herself from the two syn-Dariv and bore down upon her cousin.
“Herin!” she exclaimed, as soon as she came within earshot. “This is the first time I’ve seen you, this whole session—have you been avoiding me?”
“Not on purpose,” he said. He added, “I didn’t get here until today, as it happens.”
“Lucky for you. Where were you all that time?”
He filled a mug with pale
uffa
and handed it to her. He knew her tastes well enough to omit asking for her preference, which was handy if a bit unsettling when she considered that they’d never been particularly close. “Here and there,” he said. “Studying.”
uffa
and handed it to her. He knew her tastes well enough to omit asking for her preference, which was handy if a bit unsettling when she considered that they’d never been particularly close. “Here and there,” he said. “Studying.”
“Studying what?”
“Private security forces, mostly,” he said. “And how they’re being integrated into different family structures.”
“Ah.” That was the main issue facing this evening’s open session; it had depressed her a little that more people hadn’t been talking about the problem earlier. “How
are
they being integrated?”
are
they being integrated?”
“As a general rule?” He drained the last of his mug of
uffa
and filled it again. “Badly. Either they’re not exploited well enough or they’re a danger to the family that supposedly controls them.”
uffa
and filled it again. “Badly. Either they’re not exploited well enough or they’re a danger to the family that supposedly controls them.”
“I suppose that means you’re going to vote against establishing a sus-Dariv strike team,” she said.
He nodded. “The odds of it working as intended aren’t very high.”
“I suppose not … look, Herin, will you take my proxy for that vote when it comes up? If I don’t get out of here soon I’m going to suffocate.”
“Of course,” he said.
She set down her mug and searched through her folder of conference materials until she found a stylus and a slip of paper with which to write up the formal authorization. He tucked the finished note inside his shirt. That done, Zeri gave Herin her thanks and a smile of farewell, then began working her way through the crowd to the door.
The Court of Two Colors had its main entrance on High Port Road—a wide, elegant doorway, all thick black glass with burnished silver fittings, for the honor of the guests. The Court had other ways in and out, however, plainer and more utilitarian ones, for the use of suppliers and workers and maintenance personnel. The pleasure of Hanilat’s best and highest was not to be sullied by interruptions from those who made that pleasure possible.
The service entrances to the Court had their own feeder network of alleys and unloading bays, kept brightly lit no matter how dark the night outside. Beyond the entrances lay the Court’s working spaces—kitchen and laundry and storage and maintenance. In one of the offices on the kitchen level, the Court’s chief-provisioner Mielen Tabbes sat going over a copy of tomorrow’s planned menu, with a printout of the contents of the larder ready to hand.
“Snowdrifts in tangleberry sauce?” he asked, his finger tracing the menu item. He brought up the Court’s master recipe index on his desk reader, and moved to the entry for snowdrifts. “Glacial ice. The standard is glacial ice.”
The larder list showed only four pounds of glacial ice. Hardly enough for a table full of star-lords, should they get the hunger on them for berried snow. Refrigerator ice could be substituted, but not at the Court of Two Colors.
Tabbes drew a line through the menu entry to show that he had not approved it, then moved on to the next item, a gallimaufry of tenderwort in cream. Tenderwort was on the delivery list for tonight, very good, because it didn’t keep. The list showed a truckload from the Ridge Farms Produce Cooperative going to Loading Dock 3, and from there to the low-humidity storeroom. Perhaps it had already arrived. Tabbes would check later.
What would have been a slow crawl of a month or more in normal space was barely an eyelash-flicker spent transiting the Void. Len Irao didn’t even have a chance to get properly apprehensive about guardships and other hazards of an off-lanes emergence. The
Fire
took him into the Void and out of it again as smoothly as he’d ever known her to go. Even the usual brief disorientation was less marked than usual, although he supposed that could be the result of having other things on his mind—such as the question of what kind of disaster could have done such damage to a fleet-family vessel that only its ship-mind was left to signal for help.
Fire
took him into the Void and out of it again as smoothly as he’d ever known her to go. Even the usual brief disorientation was less marked than usual, although he supposed that could be the result of having other things on his mind—such as the question of what kind of disaster could have done such damage to a fleet-family vessel that only its ship-mind was left to signal for help.
Normal space after emergence didn’t give him any clues, or at least not at first. Then the
Fire’s
proximity alarm sounded, and he felt the ship change course abruptly. As soon as the acceleration let up, he checked the navigational console. The false-color display now showed a patch of what looked like amber fog where the marker for the sus-Dariv ship had been, and the alphanumeric readout said, SENSORS REPORT DRIFTING DEBRIS. STAND BY FOR UNSCHEDULED EVASIVE MANEUVERS.
Fire’s
proximity alarm sounded, and he felt the ship change course abruptly. As soon as the acceleration let up, he checked the navigational console. The false-color display now showed a patch of what looked like amber fog where the marker for the sus-Dariv ship had been, and the alphanumeric readout said, SENSORS REPORT DRIFTING DEBRIS. STAND BY FOR UNSCHEDULED EVASIVE MANEUVERS.
“Damn,” he said. “I hope we haven’t lost them.”
The communications console obliged him by coming once more to life. “This is sus-Dariv’s
Garden-of-Fair-Blossoms.
If you are receiving this transmission, know that we are in distress and call for aid. We beg of you, make all speed to our location … .”
Garden-of-Fair-Blossoms.
If you are receiving this transmission, know that we are in distress and call for aid. We beg of you, make all speed to our location … .”
Maybe the
Garden’s
luck wasn’t gone after all. If its ship-mind could still function, the sus-Dariv ship was probably not one of those bits of drifting debris
Fire-on-the-Hilltops
was busy avoiding. He set himself to instructing the ship-mind in a search pattern that would increase their chances of finding
Garden-of-Fair-Blossoms
in an expeditious manner.
Garden’s
luck wasn’t gone after all. If its ship-mind could still function, the sus-Dariv ship was probably not one of those bits of drifting debris
Fire-on-the-Hilltops
was busy avoiding. He set himself to instructing the ship-mind in a search pattern that would increase their chances of finding
Garden-of-Fair-Blossoms
in an expeditious manner.
Several hours and a number of unscheduled evasive maneuvers later, the navigational console began to blink and hoot at him. SEARCH TARGET FOUND, reported the alphanumeric display. SENSORS REPORT VESSEL’S DOCKING RING INTACT.
Len drew a deep breath. The next few hours, he suspected, were not going to be pretty.
“Initiate docking procedures with
Garden-of-Fair-Blossoms
,” he said, and went to don his pressure-suit and otherwise make ready for an extended period of extravehicular activity.
Garden-of-Fair-Blossoms
,” he said, and went to don his pressure-suit and otherwise make ready for an extended period of extravehicular activity.
Before long, he was waiting outside the airlock of the
Fire’s
docking hatch. He felt the ship twisting and rotating as her maneuvering rockets brought her into proper alignment with the opposing vessel. Then came an audible
clunk
as the two ships mated, followed by the sound of the
Fire’s
airlock cycling through. Then the amber light over the airlock door turned to violet, and the door swung open.
Fire’s
docking hatch. He felt the ship twisting and rotating as her maneuvering rockets brought her into proper alignment with the opposing vessel. Then came an audible
clunk
as the two ships mated, followed by the sound of the
Fire’s
airlock cycling through. Then the amber light over the airlock door turned to violet, and the door swung open.
Len stepped in and waited patiently for the door to close again and the lock to cycle him through. Then he repeated the process in reverse for the airlock and door on the opposite side.
That done, he stepped out into a fearsome scene:
Garden-of-Fair-Blossoms
was a ship of the dead.
Garden-of-Fair-Blossoms
was a ship of the dead.
Some of them, in combat dress and hardmasks, lay tumbled together where they had stood in ranks for boarding. He didn’t know what kind of weapon had struck them down, except that it had burned them like a sudden fire. Others, farther along the ship’s main corridor, had died under the blows of boarding pikes. Even the ship’s bridge was a small slaughterhouse. Len was glad that he had worn his pressure-suit; the
Garden’s
air supply was intact, but he had no desire to smell the aftereffects of such carnage. The sight of it alone was bad enough.
Garden’s
air supply was intact, but he had no desire to smell the aftereffects of such carnage. The sight of it alone was bad enough.
He stood at last before the ship’s main console and turned the speaker volume on his pressure-suit up as high as it could go.
“Ship-mind,” he said. “Is anybody on board here still alive?”
The synthesized voice of the ship-mind spoke again. “Analysis of internal sensor data suggests at least one possible survivor.”
Not here on the bridge; that was certain. “Where?”
“Localizing the data now. Please follow the flashing guides.”
A yellow light on the bulkhead by the airtight door started to blink on and off. He went back through the door into the passageway outside; another light was blinking on the bulkhead there, telling him to go left. More flashing lights appeared as he needed them, directing him steadily inward toward the heart of the ship, the most protected spaces. The raiders had been in these passages, too; more than once his feet, clumsy in the magnetized soles of his pressure-suit, stumbled over bodies.
He found the survivor in the ship’s infirmary. The medical
aiketen
there had continued their work even with slaughter going on around them. Len supposed that the sus-Dariv fleet-apprentice who lay beneath the armor-glass lid of the stasis box, cocooned in a delicate web of balanced energy, had been left for dead by the mysterious invaders, and had made her way to the infirmary with the last of her strength.
aiketen
there had continued their work even with slaughter going on around them. Len supposed that the sus-Dariv fleet-apprentice who lay beneath the armor-glass lid of the stasis box, cocooned in a delicate web of balanced energy, had been left for dead by the mysterious invaders, and had made her way to the infirmary with the last of her strength.
Len spoke again to the ship-mind. “How long can the stasis box maintain her like this?”
“Indefinitely,” the ship-mind replied. “Subject only to the need for a reliable power supply.”
“If I open the lid, can the
aiketen
revive her long enough to answer questions without killing her for good?”
aiketen
revive her long enough to answer questions without killing her for good?”
“Consultation with the infirmary’s quasi-organics is required in order to answer your question.”
“Consult away.”
Silence once again filled the infirmary. Somewhere in all that lack of noise, presumably, the ship-mind and the medical
aiketen
traded data back and forth.
aiketen
traded data back and forth.
At last, the ship-mind said, “The
aiketen
are allowing the box’s energy fields to lapse for a brief period. Please ask your questions as concisely as possible; the patient’s condition cannot be supported for long outside stasis.”
aiketen
are allowing the box’s energy fields to lapse for a brief period. Please ask your questions as concisely as possible; the patient’s condition cannot be supported for long outside stasis.”
Len undid the clamps and lifted up the lid of the box. As he did so, the shimmering web of energy faded, and he got his first good look at the survivor of the attack. The girl was a fleet-apprentice, as Len had guessed from the bits of uniform he had glimpsed earlier, and as the ship-mind had intimated, she was in a bad way. Most of her torso was covered by one of those mysterious burn wounds—this one looking as though it must have been delivered at point-blank range—and her right arm and shoulder had been stabbed and hacked at by a boarding pike.
As the
aiketen
’s supporting web faded away, the fleet-apprentice drew a shuddering breath. Her eyes snapped open.
aiketen
’s supporting web faded away, the fleet-apprentice drew a shuddering breath. Her eyes snapped open.
“Who—?” The word came out in a painful whisper.
“Lenyat Irao. Captain of the light-cargo carrier
Fire-on-the-Hilltops
.” The thought came to him that his pressure-suit, with its blank-faced helmet, must look disturbingly like ship-to-ship combat gear, and he groped for something to say that might give her confidence. “I’m under contract to the sus-Dariv for this run, so that makes us temporary kin.”
Fire-on-the-Hilltops
.” The thought came to him that his pressure-suit, with its blank-faced helmet, must look disturbingly like ship-to-ship combat gear, and he groped for something to say that might give her confidence. “I’m under contract to the sus-Dariv for this run, so that makes us temporary kin.”
“Good.” The fleet-apprentice’s eyes drifted closed. She lay there without speaking, while Len watched her ravaged chest rise and fall in shuddering, irregular breaths. After a while she seemed to gather strength again and went on: “You can take back word.”
“I will,” said Len. “But—what happened? If I’m going to take back word, I have to know.”
“We were attacked. Thought it was another family’s ship, challenging us for cargo … met them at the airlock, all in proper form … .”
“I know how it goes.” Len had stood to meet a boarding party more than once himself, in the time he’d spent as hired crew on the family ships. “And it doesn’t look like they followed the rules.”
“No. They burned us where we stood.” Even now, the echo of that first outrage colored the girl’s thready voice. “I’ve never seen weapons like that. Anybody left standing … they cut them down. Ran through the ship like fire and a flood together.”
“Do you know why?”
The fleet-apprentice shook her head painfully. “They never said anything. And they didn’t take anything, either … some stuff from here they tossed out into space. And their ships have guns. I heard them talk about blasting the convoy into pebbles.”
“They did. Your ship is about the only thing left.”
“Why?”
“Why did they leave the guardship intact?” Len had been wondering that himself, ever since he saw the first bodies lying sprawled on the deck outside the airlock. He’d seen enough on the bridge to give him a theory. “Before they left, they had your ship-mind set the
Garden
on course for a transit home in normal space. That means they want somebody to find this ship eventually—but not right now. Right now they want to use the fact that she’s disappeared.”
Garden
on course for a transit home in normal space. That means they want somebody to find this ship eventually—but not right now. Right now they want to use the fact that she’s disappeared.”
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