by Jay Lake
“In orbit, where different laws and regulations apply. The airships are built in space, and lowered with massive orbital drop-down pods, analogous to orbital drop-up pods like this one."
“So they pay for their ships by smuggling goods or funds back to space in these orbital drop-up pods."
Wiggles barked his short, odd laugh. “I appreciate a young man with a keen grasp of economics."
“They must bury a lot of officers. Some of them many times over."
“I am given to understand their death rate is uncommonly high at times,” Wiggles said in his most serious voice.
* * * *
Nighttime in the Light of the Day Star
The heavier thrust finally eased. Elroy felt himself floating off of the floor of the balloon. He and Wiggles both wore the thin silver suits, enclosing even their heads, the hoods having transparent panels across the face. Elroy tried to move, but instead began to spin. His head began to spin with the roiling in his gut.
Wiggles’ voice echoed tinny and thin within Elroy's silver hood. “Have a care, friend Elroy. We are in microgravity, often called weightlessness. It can be dangerous and distressing to a newcomer."
Elroy grabbed for a splint, but succeeded only in knocking it into a spin as well. He needed to talk, to focus his mind on something other than the distress of his body. “We have been in this balloon for two or three days, sir pug. I am very tired of the view, no offense. What happens now?"
Wiggles wagged his short tail, visible by the rippling in his silver space suit. “Friends of the purser will come for us soon."
“Does it ever happen that the Flaming Sword or other agents of the Lord Liasis find these drop-up pods?"
“Yes."
* * * *
Elroy had been thinking about Wiggles, about the wages he took and the choices that had been forced upon him. The balloon shuddered, and he found himself pressed against the fabric of the balloon. Elroy realized that the pain in his wrist had subsided quite a bit.
Wiggles kicked off, sailing in his silver suit to be next to Elroy. “We have been taken in tow. Let us hope for friends."
“How will we know?"
“Friends will stow the balloon gently for future use. Enemies most likely will force their way in."
“Wiggles,” said Elroy. “When we are released, by friend or foe, I will stand with you, but I will be your servant no longer."
Wiggles gave Elroy a long, thoughtful look. “Why?"
“I am not made for service. I do not need the funds so badly as to surrender myself. Since we boarded the airship, every choice has been taken from my hands. I will stand beside you and help you get back to the Gardens, not for payment, but for friendship."
“Thank you, Elroy. I hope you can leave your regrets behind as we continue."
Pressed against the fabric with Wiggles, Elroy watched for signs of civilized entry.
They came soon enough. The balloon suddenly stopped. Elroy and Wiggles collapsed to the new floor that had been the wall at their back, drawn down again as if they were back on the ground. The orange fabric rapidly lost tension as it settled around them. With a gentle sussing noise it began to tighten in on itself.
One of the fabric panels split open above them, the rangy brindled face of a badger peering in. It wore a canvas work vest. “Ho, new friends. Is there cargo to be recovered?"
Wiggles unsealed his silver hood, motioning Elroy to do the same. As his hood opened, Wiggles spoke. “We are a special shipment, sir badger, courtesy of the Child of Crisis."
“Always looking out for us up here in the high places, that Renton. A great purser and a better person, but can't resist sending us little surprises from time to time.” The badger pushed and nudged at the collapsing fabric of the balloon to open an exit for them.
“I am Wiggles, a gardener from the high places, and this is my friend Elroy of Pilot Knob, Earth."
The badger nodded gravely at Elroy. “Pilot Knob is a place I've never heard of, but coming in this pod you've visitor's rights. Be welcome. And you, sir Wiggles. Are you truly just a simple gardener?"
“With respect, I decline the question pending further discussion, sir badger."
“Which says enough about the special shipment. You may call me Horace. We must go now. By virtue of the method of your arrival, you have been summoned to a Concilium meeting."
They stepped out of the shrinking balloon into a large bay reminiscent of the rear cargo bay of the Child of Crisis, except everything here was ceramic, plastic or metal. Elroy was fascinated by the profusion of colored pipes, thick cables, and cabinets, with small doors and cunning hatches everywhere.
Horace led them to a hatch two meters tall, obviously intended for human foot traffic. Elroy paused to look at a small glass panel the left of the door. He stared at the tiny lights that crawled across the panel until the great blue arc of the Earth swung into his view.
“Welcome to space,” said Wiggles.
Elroy reached out to touch the panel. It was cold. He felt his sense of wonder unfolding like flowers in the spring. “Why does the man who owns the world live up here high above?"
Wiggles barked a soft laugh. “Where else would you find such a view?"
The badger tugged at Elroy's silver sleeve, urging him along.
* * * *
They passed through several short, winding corridors, lined with the same riot of pipes, cables, and access hatches as the cargo bay. To Elroy's nose the place smelled painfully clean. It had an aseptic, neutral scent impossible to achieve in an organic environment. Horace stopped them outside a double hatch emblazoned with a stylized paw print.
“Here is the Concilium. I counsel respectful attention, and the best kind of honesty in answering their questions."
The doors hissed open before them. At a gentle push from Horace, Elroy and Wiggles stepped into the room.
Elroy gasped. For a panicked moment, he thought he had stepped into open space. The Concilial chamber was roofed with a transparent dome, eight meters in diameter and open to half the sky. The great blue and white arc of the planet Earth was nowhere to be seen, but the room was flooded with the light of the sun, the daystar. All around his head, Elroy could see stars great and small, many of them in motion, like Yurigrad seen from Earth.
He pulled his gaze from the sky to the Concilium. Variously seated and standing about a low, round table almost three meters across, eight Animals stared at him. There were no human people in the room except for Elroy. He saw four dogs of varying breeds, including another pug, as well as a raccoon, two coyotes and a puma that bulked large along one arc of the room. As with every Animal, all wore a single item of clothing to symbolize their work or rank. Every vest or jacket or waistcoat was as unnaturally clean as the one Wiggles wore.
The Concilium pug leaned forward, drumming its claws on the metal tabletop. “Wiggles."
“Clement,” Wiggles acknowledged. Elroy glanced down to see Wiggles sag his shoulders, tail drooping.
“A gardener, indeed.” Clement's voice oozed reproach. “Who had you hoped to deceive?"
“I am a gardener, Clement."
“And a great deal more besides. In light of your misdeeds, our Lord Liasis is much inflamed with hope of hearing news of you."
“You are free Animals here.” Wiggles turned his head, staring from one Conciliator to another. “Liasis is not Lord of places such as this. The Mutual Contract does not hold sway above the soil of Earth."
The puma rumbled a low growl. Elroy had never seen such a large Animal. It was greater in size and apparent ferocity than even the security wolves. “Clement misspoke. Liasis is not our Lord, but he is yours, sir Wiggles. We are good neighbors, and seek to satisfy his reasonable requirements."
Wiggles nodded. “In return for reasonable rewards, perhaps, friend puma?"
The puma licked a thumbed paw. “It is the way of things, little dog. Your sun now sets."
Clement stared up at Elroy. “You, friend Elroy, are free
to go. Horace will escort you to the airlock."
Wiggles waved Elroy back with a small gesture of one thumbed paw. Elroy reached out to touch Wiggles, thinking perhaps to pull him along. The badger grabbed Elroy's hand, whispering, “Come quickly, man, while they still allow."
The doors of the Concilial chamber began to hiss shut upon Elroy's view of Wiggle's green-clad back. Beyond his friend the pug, Elroy saw the puma rising and turning to come toward Wiggles. Wiggles’ head was bowed, his tail almost slack in its unkinked dejection, as the paw print doors closed.
* * * *
Horace led Elroy rapidly through a series of cluttered corridors. Elroy stalked behind the badger, angry and confused.
“By the Moment of Inertia, what was that business? I will not allow a friend to be so betrayed!"
“Peace, friend Elroy. The Concilium is constrained."
“But that—Clement, Clement knew Wiggles. It said a few choice words, and Wiggles just stood there. After all we went through to come this far."
The badger stopped, turned to face Elroy, staring up at his human height. “Clement and Wiggles are littermates. Each chose a different path in life. Wiggles has deviated from his path, and Clement seeks to right perceived wrongs."
Littermates? “This is about the apples in the gardens then? A touch of brotherly jealousy?"
“You know nothing of what happens here in the high places, man from Earth, let alone the Gardens of Sweet Night. Wiggles was chancellor to Lord Liasis—a high official of the Justiciary in his own right."
Chancellor? Elroy leaned back against the corridor wall, pipes pressing into him. His worldview shifted underneath him like the falling gangway above New Dallas. He had no conception of what he should do next.
Horace tapped a claw upward into Elroy's chest, emphasizing his next words. “The Concilium was threatened, challenged for orbital rights and various alleged violations of law and charter. Wiggles worked secretly to defend Clement's interests, tried to make things smooth. In doing so, he betrayed the trust of his Lord Liasis. Fear of Liasis was stronger than loyalty to his brother, so Clement reported Wiggles to the Flaming Sword. From this came his fall."
“For brother to betray brother..."
“You have an appointment with the airlock. The Concilium has declared you free to go."
* * * *
Stepping Into the Sunlit Dark
Horace led Elroy to a man-sized hatch set in a wide spot in a corridor. Another window stood next to it, showing the lights of the stars, both moving and still.
“Here is the airlock you should use, friend Elroy."
Elroy stared out the window. “What is out there?"
“Space."
“I mean, where I am I going?"
“Space."
Elroy sputtered. “That's ridiculous. I would die."
The badger pushed a button, causing the hatch to open. “Then it is a lucky thing that you seem to be wearing a space suit. I should seal my hood were I you."
Elroy considered fighting the badger, rebelling against the order, but to what point? It was the Concilium's home, they certainly had security to deal with him. He would only harm Horace, who had been kind. With a sigh, Elroy stepped into the small room behind the airlock, pulling the silver hood back over his head.
“This is it? I am just to step out into the sun-drenched dark to die? I have come all this distance to meet my end? This is senseless."
Horace gave him a long look that seemed almost sympathetic. “There is a deeper game in play here. Trust that you will be alone, but not friendless."
Elroy watched the hatch slide closed as he sealed his hood. The soft silver suit crinkled around him, expanding and tightening in different places at the same time as a hissing sound began, first as almost a roar before trailing off to nothing. The floor released its hold on him, and Elroy drifted slightly away from it. He felt the same absence of direction they had felt in the drop-up pod.
Weightless, Elroy kicked his way out of the other end of the open airlock, into the depths of orbital space. It seemed expected of him.
* * * *
I have finally found true freedom, thought Elroy. I am free of everything. Free of weight, free of responsibility, free of action of any kind.
Elroy's experiences in the orange balloon helped him keep his stomach and his mind anchored in place as he spun gently away from the rambling assemblage of the Concilium's high place in the sky.
He had never asked what their charter was, whose Council they were. Perhaps they spoke for all the Animals. He wondered what Horace had meant by deeper games. The business in the Concilium chamber had seemed almost rehearsed, a play perhaps. Who was being fooled? Wiggles? Elroy himself?
Earth rolled by his vision, transiting like a drunken giant. He noticed two kinds of stars, the sharp, far ones that didn't move except as he did, and the blobby, bright ones that moved at many speeds in many directions. The moving group must be the satellite stars, places such as Yurigrad. Perhaps they were other high places, or other adventurers like himself. Elroy felt his pulse echo in his ear. He was very, very far from Pilot Knob. The sunlit face of Earth showed the far side of the planet, so he could not even find his home.
“I suppose I shall die here,” he said aloud as he began again to pray for the harm he done, to the security wolves and the unfortunate Mississippian. He prayed for the family he would never have, and prayed for Wiggles.
Horace's voice echoed in his ears, from inside the silver hood. “Not if you listen to what I tell you."
Suit radio, Elroy realized. “You have interrupted me at prayer, sir badger. Are we playing your deeper game now?"
“There is little time,” snapped the badger. “Many things are not right at the moment, and you would do well to listen. I can help you help Wiggles. That great oaf Alcindor the puma even now sets out to return friend pug to his angry master. Can you see our station?"
Elroy waited with a smile for the Conciliatory home to spin into view.
“Yes, I see it now."
“Watch for a departure. Alcindor is about to set out in a maintenance sled with Wiggles. I have gained control of his autolaunch processes. I will direct the sled to pass very close to you. It will trail a line. You must grasp that line and secure yourself to the sled."
Elroy's smile broadened as the station rolled away from his view. The importance of everything diminished like a rock down a well. “Perhaps I shall grasp a shooting star as it trails by, friend Horace. I thank you for your kindness."
He yawned, a great gape that threatened to enclose his nearly dreaming mind.
“Sparks and fire,” swore the badger. “Your oxygen is running low. Listen, friend Elroy, attend quickly. This is a maintenance sled. There are consumable service points at the base of the sled body. If you warp yourself in along the line, you may be able to steal air from its service reserves. I can intercept his telemetry and feed false data to keep Alcindor from wondering about the wallow from your added mass. Find the sled, steal air, and ride it in pursuit."
Elroy hummed, then sang. “I shall steal thunder from the storm and fly with the lightning."
In his ears, Horace sounded sad. “Good-bye, friend man. I have tried. Luck to you."
Elroy watched the blue Earth spin slowly by, thrilled by the patterns of the clouds.
* * * *
“Now, Elroy, now!"
He couldn't remember the voice, couldn't see anyone, but as Elroy blinked he saw a silver line swinging toward him. Like swinging down the lianas of his jungle home, he thought, although he could see no green. His ears told him that he was falling, so he grabbed the silver liana to stop himself.
Black spots moved before Elroy's eyes, obscuring his view of the dark beyond. The silver vine yanked at his wrist, renewing an old, forgotten pain, but it restored his sense of upwardness. He looked at his feet, seeing a great house of metal far below, impossibly shaped and larger than any estate had a right to be.
The Concilium.
Elroy remembered a dog named Wiggles, a friend and boon companion. Wiggles was in trouble, needed Elroy's help.
Elroy climbed the silver vine, noting that it lacked leaves. He wondered why he was surrounded by the night, above, behind and below him. After a while the vine ended in an irregular wall of metal. There seemed to be an inordinate number of small cubes, pipes and metal balls. Elroy grabbed a sturdy pipe, releasing his silver vine.
In front him, Elroy found a row of taps, little serrated cones topped with colored handles. Each colored handle was labeled—‘N2H4’ was red, ‘H2’ was orange. A blue tap handle read ‘H2O.'
He needed air. H2O was water. H2 was hydrogen. His vision began to black out as Elroy found a white tap handle labeled ‘O2.’ Air, or at least oxygen.
He turned the white tap handle. Pale fog jetted out of the tip below the handle, disappearing almost immediately into a crystal spray, which then vanished. Air, apparently, but how was he to breathe it?
Elroy's stomach felt tight, as dark and uninterested as his mind was becoming, but he fingered the closure of the silver hood. Elroy could imagine the effects of vacuum on his skin and eyes. So first he tried to kiss the tap through his silver hood. To his surprise, the hood slipped onto the tap, pulling his face right up to the maintenance sled.
He turned the tap, feeling the jet of gas swelling his hood and pushing into his mouth with a sensation like drinking from a well-shaken bottle of ale. The black spots in his vision went away and Elroy began to giggle. His ears thrummed.
Elroy felt very alive, very fine, sliding among the tiny stars.
* * * *
Into the Gardens of Sweet Night
“Wake up, boy."
The smell was natural, like real air. Elroy knew that he wasn't in the Concilium's high place any more. He could smell soil, plants, open water. And close by, the musky scent of large canids.
Elroy opened his eyes. A tall, lanky human, with skin as pale as a jungle puffball, leaned over him. Two security wolves flanked the man, clad in armored vests and carrying matte black energy pistols gleaming with tiny colored status lights. One of the wolves leaned over to stare into Elroy's face. “Will he survive?"
