Nomad (14 page)

Gabe looked at the floor, a tiled mosaic of their shared planet of origin. All three of them stood on the swirling blue tiles of the Pacific Ocean. He looked at the walls, where an unfurled, accordion-bound book told of how humans first left Mexico to go migrating through the galaxy as members of the Kaen.

The four captains stood on the other side of the room and argued with Kaen's Blue Envoy.

They argued about the ambassadors. They also ignored the ambassadors. Gabe, Kaen, and Nadia stood by and listened. Gabe and Kaen listened, anyway; Nadia
seemed distant and distracted behind the cloth of her blindfold—even more so than usual.

Maybe her new entanglement worked
, Gabe thought.
Maybe. It didn't make her head explode, anyway. But she seems a bit spacey. And we won't really know if this worked until she tries to meet with the Machinae. And she won't get to do that unless the captains
let
her go.

He considered the captains.

Mumwat still swam inside the bubble created by Gabe's Purple Envoy. He looked uncomfortable. The Envoy probably wasn't comfortable with this temporary arrangement, either.

Speaker Tlatoani looked stern and coldly angry. This was her ship, her home, her broken sun.

Seiba projected her translated image. She looked serene, and spoke softly without gestures. Gabe could barely hear her.

Qonne did most of the talking, anyway. He had come in person this time, and his voice sounded high and sharp like a bird of prey.

“This procedure, it was done without our sanction.”

“It did not require your sanction,” the Blue Envoy said in its toadlike voice. “This was the business of ambassadors, conducted by ambassadors. But Captain Mumwat and Speaker Tlatoani were both present to bear witness.”

“Done without the sanction of the full four captains.”

“You may continue to repeat that objection if you like, Captain Qonne,” the Blue Envoy croaked politely. “It will remain both factually accurate and utterly irrelevant.”

“The attack, the ambush by hidden Outlast—your actions brought it down upon us,” Qonne said, seething. “The business of ambassadors brought it down.
Our
business is to defend from such attacks.”

“I agree,” said Blue Envoy. “And I understand that you are frustrated by your failure to defend us. Please refrain from inflicting those frustrations upon others, or further exercising your authority over ambassadorial matters—especially given the fact that the ambassador emeritus who passed through an additional entanglement procedure is an honored guest of the Kaen. She is not of the Kaen. She does not represent the Kaen. She is not subject to the Kaen.”

Gabe winced. So did Kaen.

“That's not going to help,” she whispered. “He won't respond well to rebukes.”

“I don't think he likes to be reminded about things beyond his control, either,” Gabe whispered back. “He's already upset about just how much he can't control.”

The bird captain raged in loud response. Gabe and Kaen shared a look.
Knew it.

Nadia made a pained noise.

“You okay?” Gabe whispered.

“That voice,” she said. “Words like frustrated flies whacking themselves against windows. Buzzing. Loud. Unable to understand the fact that glass exists.”

Uh-oh
, Gabe thought.
Giving her an extra-special dose of entangling was supposed to make her better at communication. She seems worse instead.

“Right,” he said aloud. “Yes. Annoying voices are arguing. True.”

Qonne continued to bluster. Gabe understood less and less of it. “Kaen, are you catching any of this?”

“Some,” she said, her voice a blunt weapon. “He thinks it's a terrible idea to send a ‘hatchling,' a ‘larval individual,' on a mission of first contact to the Machinae, especially one whose neurons we've just scrambled. He wants to send an adult instead.”

Blue Envoy continued to argue in an impatient, croaking voice. “We cannot send an adult of any species into the lanes. Only someone young, someone whose neurological connections remain flexible and adaptable, can even undergo this procedure. Only a former ambassador can do so. It builds upon previous entanglements.”

Captain Qonne remained adamant. “You cannot endanger another hatchling.”

“Endanger,” Gabe mused, his voice low. “Interesting choice of words.”

“Condescending and insulting choice of words,” said Kaen. “I'll walk out of this meeting if he says the word
hatchling
one more time.”

“What do you think they're really arguing about over there?” Gabe asked.

“What is Qonne afraid of, you mean?” Kaen asked.

“I guess so,” Gabe said. “Loss of control seems to be most of it.”

“And trusting a child,” said Kaen.

“
Endangering
a child,” Gabe added. “He's not just trying to shut us up and make us go away. He might be trying to protect us—which I find hilarious, since he wanted to kill me earlier.”

“How kind of him to protect us,” said Kaen. She had her own history of disgruntlement with these captains—Qonne in particular. But then she looked thoughtful. “We might be able to use that. Qonne
needs
to be protective. He needs to exercise more control. We could offer him the chance.”

“Sounds perfect,” Gabe said. “How?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “Ideas?”

“No,” Gabe said. “Wait, yes. Maybe. The prisoner?”

Kaen understood. “Perfect.”

She cleared her throat and straightened her spine. Most species notice a more alert posture; whoever held such a posture might either run or pounce.

“Captain Qonne,” she said, loudly. “I would speak.”

The room fell silent. Qonne paused before answering. He clearly did not enjoy speaking with a child. Children of his species did not know how. “Speak then,” he said. “Ambassador,” he added once he remembered that he should.

Kaen spoke, slow and clear. “Nadia Kollontai
may
now be able to travel the lanes. The Outlast can
certainly
travel the lanes, and we hold a living Outlast prisoner. We could send this prisoner with her. Captain Qonne, would you be willing to contribute another passenger, someone from your own ship, someone capable of safely guarding the imprisoned Outlast?”

She phrased the idea tentatively, as a suggestion and a question.
That's not how she usually talks
, Gabe noticed.
She likes clear statements of fact. Instead she invited the captain to take up her idea and call it his.
He could tell that it bothered her to do this, but she did it anyway.

Qonne looked thoughtful. “Four captains will now consider this.” That wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no, either.

The four captains considered and deliberated at the far end of the chamber. The Blue Envoy left them there and scootched over to join the ambassadors.

“Well done,” it said. “Very well done. You are all politicians.”

Nadia flinched as though slapped. She turned to pay closer attention. “Where I come from, that word is an insult. It means someone powerful, privileged, fickle, and probably stupid. Someone who might have you killed for no reason.”

Kaen's envoy turned embarrassed shades of blue. “Then I offer my sincere apologies for unintended shades of meaning. I only meant to say that you all have talents for persuasion. You speak well, as ambassadors must. But you can also describe what you believe should happen, and afterward others believe it as well. This is a powerful talent. I do encourage you to cultivate it, however much it may remind you of dangerously fickle people and abuses of authority.”

Nadia turned away and muttered the word
politicians
again.

Gabe felt a sinking feeling as though someone had cranked up the gravity. Whatever the extra entanglement had accomplished, it had not increased Nadia's diplomatic skills. Pretty much the opposite.

The Blue Envoy politely withdrew, trailing a stream of apologies behind it. Then Speaker Tlatoani called out from across the chamber.

“Little mouths,” she said. “Ambassadors.”

“Great Speaker,” Kaen answered with only slight impatience. “What have you decided?”

“Our faces have grown wide for you,” the Speaker said.

“Translation help?” Gabe whispered.

“She's proud of us,” Kaen whispered back.

Tlatoani went on. “If hidden Outlast considered it urgent to prevent your actions, then these actions must have merit. You should pursue them further. And the fleet cannot protect you, or protect ourselves by detaining you. Here this is understood. We the captains understand it. So the Terran ambassadors should both leave us, one for home and the other to meet with Machinae—if such a meeting can ever be possible.”

Gabe drew himself up, and he spoke with formality—but he tried not to sound
too
formal, like a fraud, or an impostor, or his dad making fun of something with exaggerated pseudo-ceremony.
I'm not pretending to be an ambassador
, he reminded himself.
I am an ambassador. And their faces have grown wide for us.

“You
did
protect us here,” he said. “Thank you for that, and for your hospitality. I will always speak well of the Kaen.”

“Thanks to you for the gift of ice and sanctuary,” said the Great Speaker. “This system was ours before we were
Kaen, but now, as Kaen, it is not ours, and its resources are not ours to take. We survive by your guest gift, and we will speak well of you.”

“What have the captains decided to do with the Outlast prisoner?” Kaen asked.

Qonne answered. “That thing will travel in a stasis cell with hatchling Kollontai. Two escorts will accompany it. One comes from my ship—a soldier and diplomat.”

You're sending someone else to talk to the Machinae
, Gabe realized.
You don't trust Nadia. You won't trust a hatchling to speak for us. But you are letting her leave. And Nadia is muttering to herself and ignoring all of you, so I kinda understand your lack of confidence.

“My ship sends the other guard,” said Mumwat, his deep voice muffled inside the purple bubble.

I hope they fix his suit soon
, Gabe thought.
I need my envoy back.

The three ambassadors left the House of Painted Books and returned to their small, temporary quarters in the academy.

Dr. Dromidan flew by to say something in Nadia's ear.

“I will,” Nadia answered. “I promise. Even though I can't
actually
promise that.
Barnacle
might bounce off the lanes again, skip over several more decades, and arrive in some future galaxy empty of everyone but Outlast. That could still happen, you know.”

Gabe winced.

Dromidan punched Nadia in the ear.

“Ow,” she said. “Never mind. I didn't mean to say any of that aloud. I only meant to say yes, I'll be well. I promise. Nothing bad will happen.”

The doctor whacked her ear again and then flew off.

The three ambassadors settled in to wait.

Barnacle
still needed to feed—to refuel—with the cluster of Khelone ships who traveled in the fleet. And Gabe needed his envoy before Kaen could take him back down to Earth, as she had promised to do. So they waited. All three felt drained, exhausted, and unwilling to debate anything important. Gabe found a deck of cards in his emergency backpack and suggested a game instead.

“Interesting idea,” Nadia said. “You do remember that I can't see any of the cards, right? The envoys rewired my head, but my eyes and my brain still aren't speaking to each other.”

“Haven't forgotten,” Gabe said while sorting cards. “But we could play Psychic. I'm ditching the face cards. Dealer draws one from the rest. The other two players have to guess which card.”

Kaen watched him pick through the deck. “What do the black and red symbols mean?”

“Hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades,” Gabe said. “The four suits.”

“Love, wealth, weapons, and work?” Kaen tried to clarify.

“Sort of,” Gabe said. “Suits are important for other games, but not this one. Just guess a number between two and ten.”

“Four,” said Kaen.

“Not yet!” Gabe protested. “Wait until after I see the card. You're not trying to predict the future. You're trying to guess what number I'm looking at,
while
I'm looking at it.”

Nadia made a thoughtful noise. “You're testing my extra, expanded entanglements. Think I might be a mind reader now?”

“Maybe,” Gabe said. He shuffled the numbered cards. It felt satisfying between his fingertips. “They used all of us as points on a map when they remapped your brain, so maybe we're still linked. And if you can hear me thinking, then I'd really like to know about it, so I can think very carefully in your company.”

Nadia laughed at him. And with him. Both at once. “Well, I can't hear your thoughts at the moment. Or anyone else's. Mine included. Everything's fuzzy. My brain feels like it's wading through waist-deep water in a thick fog. I can't focus on anything.” Frustration threw off sparks underneath her voice. “This was supposed to expand my mind, and my sense of language. Not shut it down.”

“Focus on this,” Gabe suggested. “Just this. What card am I holding?”

“A seven,” Nadia guessed.

“That's right!” Gabe said.

“No, it isn't,” said Kaen. “That's a three. Unless the written numbers aren't translating properly. But I think they are. There's three of those small shovel symbols in the middle of the card.”

Gabe winced.

Nadia's face and voice became coldly serious. “Ambassador Fuentes, are you cheating in my favor to boost my morale?”