The Children of the Sky (86 page)

Amdi? Amdi the shy?
Ravna almost said the words aloud.

Mr. Radio continued, “That day over Starship Hill, when we opened the drop hatch, Vendacious was going to toss out pieces of somebody—probably Amdiranifani. Amdiranifani was channeling sound all around the control gondola, never quite detected by Vendacious. He had nearly constant communication with Remnant St—Remnant Screwfloss, as those four were always moving in their cage, never giving Vendacious a chance to add up the sounds. Then Vendacious sent one of himself down to the open hatch and had the Cargomaster unshackle part of Amdiranifani. I—Ut—did just what Amdiranifani had planned for us. I slipped off my perch, got the keys from Cargomaster, and opened Screwfloss’ cage. Those four are a bloody killer pack, do you know that? They turned the gondola into mayhem, hacking at Vendacious and anyone who was still loyal to Vendacious. Cargomaster tossed one of Vendacious out the hatch. Then Vendacious caught me from behind and cut my throat. About all I remember after that was lying on the deck, bleeding to death.”

Mr. Radio’s voice had remained steady throughout his story, but Zek’s eyes were wide and he was trembling. Ravna reached out to him. “That’s okay,” she said softly. “We know the rest.”

When Tycoon spoke again, he didn’t sound quite so full of brag. “They did the right thing. I am grateful.”

“Yes,” said Johanna, grim and satisfied. “In the end, Vendacious got something like what he gave poor Scriber.” She was silent for a moment. “So that’s what happened. It’s best if we keep it from Nevil as long as possible.”

Scrupilo said, “Oh? Much as I like to mess up Nevil, what’s the point? If Tycoon is
our
ally now, it doesn’t really matter what Nevil thinks—at least as soon as Ravna’s expedition gets back to Newcastle.”

Zek emitted a negative, and then Tycoon’s voice continued: “You misunderstand. Johanna Olsndot is my advisor—and also she’s fun to have around—but I am
not
your ally. If you must, you may consider Johanna your ambassador to me. I regard the Domain as a business competitor, and though I … dislike Nevil, I will trade with him too.”

Scrupilo was outraged. “That’s absurd! You have no business opposing Woodcarver now.
I
say—” but then his voice faded off as he heard no support from Woodcarver.

Ravna looked at Johanna searchingly. “Are you really free to leave, Jo?”

“Of course she is!” said Tycoon.

Johanna smiled. “I’ve scouted things out, Rav. I figure I could shoot my way out of this ship, if I really wanted to.”

“You could?” Tycoon sound a little abashed.

“Yup.”

“Well then,” said Ravna.
To hell with being diplomatically oblique.
“Is it really safe for you to go back to the Tropics, to live in this fellow’s power?” Ravna had her own experience with
that.

“Hmm,” Johanna sounded thoughtful … and happy. Sometimes she had sounded this way when she was sitting with Pilgrim, petting him like a pack of friendly dogs. “Do I feel safe going back to House of Tycoon? Not entirely. Tycoon can be bastards if he’s convinced
you’re
a bastard. But he rescued both Timor and Geri, and he learned from them. Facts
can
eventually pound their way through his thick skulls. He hated me more than is easily imagined. Now? Well, I feel safer with Tycoon than I do, say, with Flenser. The reformed Flenser is a good guy. He probably saved my life by getting Woodcarver to bring that notebook—but he’s sneaky to the point of being unpredictable.” She hesitated. “Tycoon is the most successful rebuild I have ever met. He’s spent ten years trying to reconstitute what he lost. Talking to him is almost like I’ve found a lost friend.”

Tycoon: “I’m only partway there.”

Johanna said softly, “Tyco, you’ll never get all the way there. But I think Scriber would be proud if you make something even better from his memories. That’s exactly the grand leap he would admire.”

“Heh.… You’re right!”

“Okay, then,” said Ravna. “We’re not allies, but trade partners and competitors. But I still question Tycoon’s continued support for Nevil.” This was really a point she’d expect Woodcarver to make, but there was only silence from that quarter.

Both Johanna and Tycoon started talking at the same time. “Let me take this one,” said Johanna after they got sorted out. “
Nevil
thinks he has an alliance, but Nevil is lucky that Tycoon doesn’t hate him quite enough to kill him. Of course, Nevil is no real friend of any Tines; I’m sure he figures
he’s
using Tycoon. The longer he is fooled about the Domain’s relationship with Tycoon, the better. In the end, Tycoon intends to build Nevil’s operation into a credible human counterweight to the Domain, but one that owes its existence to playing ball with Tycoon.”

“That’s even less diplomatic than I would have been,” grumbled Tycoon.

“Of course it was. As long as I’m your advisor, expect quite a bit of frankness with my friends back in the Domain.”

Scrupilo made a spluttering noise. “If this scheme were a machine, it would fall apart.” He gobbled a few more complaints, then returned to speaking Samnorsk: “If we are to be secret friends, then I demand a show of good faith. Tycoon must return what Vendacious stole, in particular, the computer Oliphaunt.” That was Scrupilo’s favorite piece of automation outside of
Oobii
.

“Sorry, Scrup,” Jo replied. “That ain’t going to happen. Tycoon is as much in love with my old plush toy as you are.”

Scrupilo made more irritated noises. “We are giving up a lot, and being asked to tolerate Nevil, even enrich him. In return we get the promise of fearsome competition. And that’s only if we can believe this aggressive crackpot from the Tropics. Can this possibly work?”

Ravna thought back on what she had seen down south, the factories that stretched for kilometers, that could save this world. “Oh, it can work.” But at what price? She looked at Johanna. “You’re also our friend to the Choir, Jo.”

“I—of course.”

“You know about exploitation, right?”

“Like on Nyjora, in the Age of Princesses?” She smiled.

Ravna didn’t return the smile. “I don’t want that to happen here, Jo.”

The girl looked puzzled for a moment, but then she nodded very seriously. “I promise, Ravna. The Choir will not be exploited.”

After Ravna left the
Pack of Packs
, Johanna remained on the bridge. It was late afternoon. The sun would be setting soon, but there was still enough light to see through the gauze quilting that she and the ship’s steward had hung behind the bow ports. If she leaned forward and looked to the side, she could see most of Ravna’s expedition. There was Jefri and Amdi. By now Jef knew she was okay. But there was Giske and Magda and Øvin. As long as Johanna continued this scam on Nevil, most of her friends must think her lost. That was a price Johanna was willing to pay, but she hadn’t counted the cost to others, the pain of waiting and waiting to learn the terrible truth.… She could see Øvin sitting beside Edvi’s little coffin.
We should have risked sneaking word back to those who were really hurting.
Instead, she and Tyco had only thought how to stick it to Nevil. That was a success, but now Johanna just wanted to flee this place.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Tycoon’s new voice: “I say we take off for home.” Johanna turned, saw Zek sitting on a throne right behind her.

Hooray!
Aloud she said, “Ah. I thought you wanted to get a few more hours of intimidation out of this trip.”

“I did, but I don’t hear anything happening. Better to return my flagship to profit-making.”

“You’re leaving the troopship, right?” she said.

“Of course. Nevil can claim me as his ally, but never again is anybody going to murder people and then claim they were doing me a favor.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”
Please!

Zek departed for the ship’s main hatch. A moment later Ta came up the spiral stairs, probably from the pilots’ gondola. There were two members of Mr. Radio aboard
Pack of Packs
. Ta used the bridge’s speaking tubes for some final directions to the crew; apparently he’d come up here in case Tycoon had something to say to her.

She heard the faint buzz of the steam induction engines, and a moment later—somewhat louder—Zek’s voice booming out from the main hatch. The official spokescritter for Tycoon was announcing their departure and asking for help from Nevil’s ground crews.

Ten minutes later, Johanna felt the last of the ties slip loose.
Pack of Packs
bobbed free, rising slowly from the valley floor. She had a last glimpse of Ravna’s expedition and Nevil’s group. The Deniers were waving solemn farewell. Most of Ravna’s people were just staring. Everyone was out of sight before she could spot Jefri and Amdi.

The ship turned after it was above the walls of the Streamsdell. They flew back along the north side of the great river valley. Ravna pulled down the quilting so Ta and Zek could get a good view.

“That slit in the side valley. Is that the entrance to Nevil’s cave system?” The voice belonged to Mr. Radio.

“Yup. If Woodcarver already knows about it, we should be able to get some maps.”

Tycoon’s voice grumbled: “I’m putting video senders at the top of my to-make list.”

In less than a minute, Nevil’s rat hole had slid beneath their view. The horizon ahead was an endless stretch of rock and snow and glaciers, lit by the setting sun. Flying at altitude, they had enough fuel for a nonstop return, but the trip would take all night and into the next day.

More than enough time to do one thing right. Johanna looked at Zek. “So where did you stow the commset?” she said.

Ta and Zek jabbed snouts at one of the low cabinets that lined the walls. It wasn’t locked. She pulled out the commset, one of just two that had finally fallen into Tycoon’s claws.

“What’s that you’re doing?” said Tycoon.

“I’m going to have a chat with Woodcarver.”

Mr. Radio emitted spluttering noises, no doubt from Tycoon. “Nevil will overhear!”

“Nope,” said Johanna. “Commset traffic is encrypted, and we’re so high that I can send direct to the coast. Nevil will not even know we’re talking.”

Tycoon was silent for a moment. Then: “Very well. Sooner or later we do need a detailed discussion with this Woodcarver.”

“That’s true.” Johanna put down the commset and looked at Ta and Zek. “But Tycoon, that’s not what I’m looking for in this chat. Woodcarver and I—we need to talk about personal things. If you refuse me, I won’t be mad, but … will you leave me alone for this, not even eavesdrop?”

It was a test Johanna had never intended to set. Truly, she didn’t expect Tycoon to trust her this much.

Tycoon was silent for a moment. “This is about the Pilgrim pack, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Another silence. “Very well.” Ta and Zek started toward the stairs. “But I want a full report on everything else!”

In just a few seconds, they were gone from the stairwell and the anteroom below. Johanna fiddled with the commset, trying to set up a session. Since the device didn’t know where it was, and she didn’t want it to ask the orbiter for a position, this was not entirely easy. But after a few minutes, she had clear green, and shortly after that—

“Woodcarver here. Johanna?”

“Yes. I said we should talk. Is now—?”

“Yes, now is fine. I’m alone in the thrones room.”

“I’m alone as well. I—I wanted to tell you about Pilgrim.…”

Johanna described the agrav’s last flight, the crash. Then there were the memories she tried not to think about. Maybe it was nuts to talk about each death now, to say all the things she had seen, but she did and Woodcarver listened. She wasn’t sure how anyone could make sense of her voice by the time that she finished. Woodcarver did. She asked questions, wanted to know everything.

When everything was said, and Johanna’s voice guttered to a stop, Woodcarver said, “He was dismembered, without a doubt.” Her own human voice sounded almost normal, maybe speaking a little slower than usual: “And is he totally dead? Probably. But this is Pilgrim. When you get back to Tycoon’s hideout in the Tropics—”

“I’ll keep watch, Woodcarver. I won’t give up.”

They talked of Pilgrim for some time more. They had other memories of him. Johanna’s went back ten years. Woodcarver’s were a patchwork of encounters that extended far longer.

They must have talked for two hours. Outside, the Icefangs had faded to dark and stars ruled the horizon. The
Pack of Packs
continued to climb as it approached the mountain passes. The air was steady and smooth, quite unlike Jo’s earlier passages over these peaks.

Reminiscence had turned into imagining how Pilgrim would have handled the present situation, and a general discussion of strategy. Johanna would definitely have things to report to Tycoon.

But strategy included discussing Tycoon himself: “Are you sure Tycoon is not snooping on this conversation?” said Woodcarver.

“I—” Johanna glanced at the speaking tubes. They were all capped. Where she was sitting, she had a good view of the stairs and the empty anteroom below. “Woodcarver, I truly believe he’s not eavesdropping, but that’s more a matter of trust than anything else—”

Woodcarver said, “In this case, what you believe may be the important thing. I’ve wondered for so long: what kind of creature is this crazypack?”

Oh!
Johanna thought for a second. “He is weird. Numerous and weird. Sometimes he reminds me of Scriber, but he can be just as grumpy as Scrupilo. And then there’s the businesscritter side of him. Imagine what Flenser would be like if his goal in life was to sell you trinkets and used wagon parts.”

Woodcarver emitted a multi-hum that was surprised laughter. “Do you suppose I might have a chat with him?”

Seven tendays passed.

The scam against Nevil continued successfully, so Johanna remained stuck here in the Tropics. It was the most fascinating time of her life. Each time she went into the Choir, she found something new. She’d returned to the River Fell, watched the rafts come and go. (Cheepers and company returned just sixty days after she did!) She’d walked the floor of a wild factory. Someday, she would pole a twinhull up the Fell to the North One Reservation—but when she’d suggested that to Tycoon, the Big Guy had completely lost his bluff brutality. He’d begged her not to be so stupid. Okay, he might be right about that expedition … Ha, she’d make the trip with Cheepers’ riverboat sailors! Meanwhile, there was always the Great Pyramid of the Choir. Johanna loved to hike on the Pyramid. She had lots of reasons, including the whiff of danger.