Counterweight (25 page)

Rick couldn’t help but notice the years of dust covering the
ornate seat, nor did he miss the fact that Freya had entered the hall by such a
route. He wasn’t sure what the exact message of the empty throne was but he
felt reassured by it.

The hall was cathedral-like. It was far less ornate, but its
stone pillars stood at least fifteen meters high and supported a simple,
vaulted ceiling. The design was of a style favored by the old Empire, looking
like a mix of Romanesque and Art Deco.

Eighty or so people were standing around the middle of the
open space, some conversing in tight knots, some alone and staring at the
newcomers with open interest. As Freya’s party approached, a path opened to the
center, revealing a well-dressed woman in what appeared to be her early
thirties standing by a long rectangular charcoal brazier that occupied the
center of the hall.

“So, Freya, you’ve brought your passenger safely through
enemy territory?” Her voice was carefully neutral but not entirely unwelcoming.

“I did,” Freya replied, extending her left hand to the side
to indicate the Human. “Rick Heywood of the
Guadalcanal,
this is my
ancestress, Erin Shelby.”

A surprised murmur ran through the crowd, growing to shouts
of anger. At a nod from Shelby, the master at arms brought his mace down on the
stone flags, the crashing sound battering the assembly into silence.

“We have already learned,” Shelby explained in a casual
tone, “that this Human took no part in the mutiny.” Most of the people in the
room would have remembered the desertion of the
Guadalcanal
, having been
in orbit next to her at the time. Some had even had friends or family among the
Midaard who’d been dragged along with the mutineers.

“Moreover, he is the descendant of the ship’s engineer, who
opposed the taking of the ship. Captain Ulrich’s testimony leaves no doubt on
that account.” The mood toward Rick changed immediately.

“I speak of him as a Human,” she continued, “a word we
rarely use anymore, but I have good reason.” She smiled at Rick. “This man is
an original – an unvaccinated Human.”

The uproar returned and she let the buzz feed on itself as
she motioned the newcomers forward.

“Is it true,” Shelby asked, placing a hand on Rick’s
shoulder and leaning closer to be heard above the crowd, “what our agent has
told me? Your world produces spicewood?”

Rick nodded.

“There’s more,” Freya added, reluctantly. “He possesses
seidr abilities.”

Shelby looked back to Rick. “What sort of powers?”

“I would have seen that question,” Rick replied, mindful of
Freya’s advice to be direct, “if I had wished to.” 

“Wished to?” Shelby prompted him sharply.

“It’s an old habit of mine,” he explained carefully. “I can
see fourteen seconds into my own future but I can choose to ignore it, when
among friends with a shorter timeframe. If I wished, I could see and hear this
entire conversation fourteen seconds ahead of the rest of you.”

“You have a continuous vision fourteen seconds ahead of the
present?” Shelby’s eyes were wide in amazement. The sound of the crowd was
fading as those near them spread word of the topic.

“We do,” Rick nodded, “but we learn to filter it out, much
as you might learn to ignore a snoring neighbor.” He was rewarded with a few
uneasy chuckles. “As I said, I choose not to use it among friends.” He turned
to nod at the crew. “At least, not
on
them –
for
them is another
matter.”

“It’s true,” Thorstein said. “We were seconds away from
blundering into a troopship’s drop wash and he suddenly ran into the bridge,
yelling like a madman, but he saved us all.”

“Well, you just represent all kinds of potential, don’t you,
young man?” Shelby mused quietly. “You said
we
…”

“Ma’am?”

She tilted her head to the right, eyeing him keenly. “When I
asked if you had a continuous vision, you said
we do
, not
I do
.”

Rick nodded. “Except for children already conceived in
space, the first generation born on 3428 had the ability. We don’t know what
causes it but everyone has it to a varying degree.”

“And how many of you are there?” a well-dressed hauld to
Shelby’s left asked.

“A hundred thousand,” Rick answered him, “give or take a few
thousand. We don’t take a census or anything.”

“Bugger the wood, Milady,” the hauld exclaimed, aiming a
finger at Rick. “There’s the
real
value of that world! Imagine someone
like him stationed on every bridge in the fleet.” He shook his head in
amazement. “Fourteen seconds? That could be a lifetime in combat. Norns save
me, that’d be eight thousand three hundred twenty-nine lifetimes on my flagship
alone!”

“I see no reason why we shouldn’t welcome both the wood and
the people into our realm, Gunnar,” Shelby replied with an easy grin, “though,
if you were serious about the wood, I’d watch out for splinters.”

She used the resulting laughter to change gears, turning
back to Freya. “You know how to find the place?”

A nod. “When he explained how it had been hidden, it was a
simple enough matter to find the coordinates in the old Imperial records.”

“Excellent!” She looked to Rick. “Would you like to cast the
bones?”

Rick frowned. “Bones, Ma’am?”

She waved a man forward. “Eirar, here, has an injector
loaded with the same vaccine I brought from Earth.” She gave him an appraising
look. “Would you like to
truly
become one of us?”

Rick’s skin felt as though a cool breeze had suddenly blown
across it. Every nerve tingled. This was the cure, and it was the plague that
had driven his ancestors away from the fleet. There was a chance his corpse
would be carried from this room in a few minutes, unless he said no, and yet…

Something was telling him to say…

“Yes,” he replied firmly. What was the sense in saying no?
He’d never truly belonged among the inhabitants of the
Canal.
He was an
inconvenient reminder of their shame. Simply by existing, his family had forced
them to twist the truth, making the Heywoods and others like them into symbols
of broken faith.

If he was going back, he wasn’t going back as the person he
used to be. He’d go as a Midgaard.

Eirar held a device to Rick’s forearm and pressed down on a
control pad. Seconds later, a chime sounded. With a nod, Eirar held a second
device to the same spot and pressed another control.

“Done,” he declared happily. “Never thought I’d be called on
to do something like this again.”

“When will I know?” Rick asked, rather proud he’d managed to
keep any hint of fear out of his voice.

“Know what?” Eirar frowned at him.

“If I’ll turn,” Rick retorted, not without a little
exasperation.

“Oh.” The man laughed. “You misunderstand the process,” he
explained. “The first device took a tissue sample. It runs a simulation to see
if you’ll mutate the bacteria. If I give you the shot, it means you aren’t part
of the unlucky two percent.”

Rick suddenly felt as though his legs were ready to call it
a day. He’d been braced for the worst, only to find he was never in any danger.
“So how long will I live?” His head was starting to spin.

“Well…” Eirar squinted at him, “You’re pretty young, so…” He
gave his upper lip a meditative chew, “Three – maybe three and a half
thousand?”

Thorstein slapped him on the back, kindly sneaking a
supporting arm around his torso in the process. “Welcome to the fold, brother!”
he boomed.

An endless stream of happy faces passed in front of him.
Some, like Erik, he recognized but most were complete strangers. No matter,
he’d have centuries to learn who they were.

Centuries!

Somewhere around the twentieth smiling face, he realized his
legs were back on the job and he gave Thorstein a grateful nod. As the crowd
settled, Shelby addressed her descendant.

“You told me once that you’d seen this coming,” she said to
Freya, her tone gentle, “and that you wouldn’t submit to blind fate like some
sacrificial animal.” She placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder.

“Is that still your decision?”

Freya cast a quick look at Rick before answering. “Our
recent voyage has been something of a lesson on fate,” she said. “The Norns
show us the warp and weft of our lives from time to time and that old saying
bubbles up from the dark recesses of our minds –
fate is inexorable
.”

She looked again at Rick and held his gaze. “I’ve learned
that there is nothing woven that cannot be pulled apart and re-woven, if we
don’t care for the pattern.” She nodded at him. “Our new brother has used his
knowledge to do just that but I have no desire to change the weave I’ve
discussed with you, Ancestress.”

“And an onerous weave it must seem,” Shelby replied with
amused sarcasm, “to a shieldmaiden of such tender years.”

Something in Shelby’s tone brought the heat to Rick’s ears
and he was somewhat off guard at her next question.

“All things being equal,” Shelby asked him, “would you have
this woman?”

“Have, Ma’am?”

She laughed. “As your mate, of course!”

“Umm…” He started to wish Thorstein was still there to hold
him up. Was she serious? If she was…

“I congratulate you, my dear,” Shelby turned to Freya. “You
seem to have found the one man in the universe who’d actually waste time
thinking about the offer!”

“It’s not that, really…” Rick blurted. “It’s just that I
don’t know how Freya feels about it.”

“It’s all right, Rick,” Freya told him calmly. “This is how
our society works.  She wouldn’t have made the offer if I didn’t want her
to.”

Want
her to? Rick wished he had more time to think
this through but the Midgaard were an alarmingly direct people. Marriage,
especially among the leading families, was often a matter of statecraft and
sensible offers were rarely refused. If he was going to be a Midgaard, then it
was time to start thinking like one.

What was behind the offer? What advantages did
he
bring to such a union? That hauld had made it clear that his
seidr
abilites
were incredibly valuable and he did lend a certain legitimacy to any claim they
planned to make on 3428.

And what did
Rick
get from this? He gained marriage
into a prominent family, which would mean a drastic change in his role, should
they return to claim 3428. He wouldn’t simply be the traitorous advisor to the
Humans’ new masters – he’d be much more.

And, above all, there was Freya. He had come to know her as
one of the crew. She wasn’t an unattractive woman by any means but it wasn’t
the first thing he’d noticed about her.

Barry’s sister Nell possessed undeniable physical beauty but
it wasn’t matched on the inside. She viewed everything with an eye toward her
own advantage and her illicit trysts with Rick had been nothing more than a
pleasant diversion for her.

Freya, on the other hand, seemed more attractive every time
Rick snuck a glance and he felt it had much to do with the
kind
of
person she was. She wore her command easily and the defferential affection of
her crew was unfeigned.

He reminded himself that this was their way –
his
way
– of arranging marriages and they expected a prompt response.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Absolutely.”

 “He has no family on this world,” Shelby announced
loudly. “Who will foster him?”

“I will,” Thorstein replied quickly. “When will the ceremony
take place?”

Shelby glanced at Freya and seemed to find consensus there. “Tonight.”

“Then I’d better get our groom down to the crypt.” The
engineer dragged Rick out of the room without another word.

Once in the hallway, Rick struggled to figure out which
question he should be asking first. Finally, one just asked itself without
bothering to consult his brain. “Am I really going to…?”

“Marry Freya Augustdottir?” Thorstein grinned at him.
“There’s no getting out of it now, not that any sane man would want to,” he
amended hurriedly.

“Wasn’t that all a little abrupt?”

“Well, we frown on long courtships.” He led him to a curving
stairwell set back into the thick stone wall. “It’s the most dangerous time in
a young man’s entire life, so we like to
pull the trigger
right away, as
your kind is so fond of saying.”

“But still,” Rick insisted, “for an outsider to be betrothed
so quickly…”

“Get this through your head, Rick,” Thorstein stopped on the
stairs and turned to look up at him. “When we say something, we mean it. When
the Ancestress said you were one of us, you were one of us. Not a provisional
member or a second-class warrior – you’re a Midgaard, regardless of political
motives. ”

He took a step up to match his eye level. “And when I
offered to
foster
you, it means I’ve accepted you into my family. When
time permits, you have family to meet but, for now, you need to come with me to
the crypt and retrieve an ancestral blade.” He resumed his descent.

 “Political motives…” Rick mused. “I figured there
might be some element of that. I suppose it strengthens any claim we want to
make on 3428?”

“Now you’re head’s in the game!” Thorstein’s chuckle bounced
off the cold stone.  “Always understand what advantage the other party
gets from any bargain. If you can’t figure it out, you’re getting cheated
somehow. There’s also the matter of your abilities. Shelby probably likes the
idea of being first to link her family line to a continuous seidr ability like
yours. Freya already has the sight but imagine the children you two will have.”

That concept was still burning its way through Rick’s brain
as they reached the bottom of the stairs and entered a large, Romanesque-style
vaulted space. Circular columns, three meters in diameter, climbed for roughly
five meters to where they supported a network of intersecting arches.