“What’s going on out here? Last time I saw a group like this there was a terrorist loose on my ship.”
Yajain’s flush deepened. She glared at Dara.
“Don’t worry, Captain. I need to talk to you and Dara. That’s all.”
“Joth and I were just talking with Doctor Merrant,” said Enna. “We’re not causing trouble this time.”
Firio massaged his temples, eyes closed.
“Alright. Doctor Merrant, Doctor Aksari, come with me.”
Captain Gattri’s small office smelled sweet from the blue Oshan Flowers in the pot latched to his desk with a magnetic lock. He sat down behind them. There were no windows in this room, but a small sol-lamp glowed over the flowers. Yajain and Dara stood opposite Firio. Yajain avoided looking at her friend.
I should have known I’d have to tell her what happened sometime.
Yajain swallowed.
“Captain,” she said. “Elder Vomont suggested that we collaborate with the sorai in Yugha Cluster on examining the remains of the scanner from Sifar.”
Dara glanced at Yajain, instantly at attention. Firio folded his hands on his desk.
“That isn’t what Vomont wanted when he last spoke to me. He wanted me to turn over the remains of a previously unknown type of scanner to a faction that still calls the Dilinia its enemy.”
Yajain took a deep breath.
“I know that’s what it sounds like now, but he seemed sincere to me.”
Firio sighed and sat back in his chair.
“Yajain, I don’t know what he said to you. He’s not trustworthy, and Csi Patla’s colony is known for piracy.”
“But we’re already going to ask them for help, aren’t we?” Yajain said. “This can’t hurt our chances!”
“It could if they see us as too weak, or worse if they figure out how to replicate what the tyrants were trying to do at Sifar. According to Finder Boskem, Doctor Setartha said they could have destroyed most of DiKandar’s fleet if they had succeeded.”
Dara turned to Firio.
“That’s the kind of power we could use to fight the tyrants.”
“Maybe. But we can’t afford to put it in the hands of rebels.”
“They live on the frontier now. Will they really want to come back to fight another war just because they have a new weapon?” Yajain’s eyes flicked to Dara. “We could work with them to understand what the tyrants were trying to do. We’d share the knowledge.”
Firio looked down at his desk.
“Sometimes I forget how naive you are, Yajain. But even if you’re right, the Empress doesn’t trust them. The answer is no.”
Yajain’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She knew Firio’s stern tone all too well. She remembered hearing him use it with Jania, his daughter, even after she became an officer. Those words were harder than steel.
“Thank you for your time, Captain.” She turned to go. “I’ll head back to Solnakite. I need to prepare for transit.”
Dara followed her out Firio’s door.
Yajain was tired from a briefing Captain Ettasil held shortly after her return from Castenlock. He told them the rescue fleet would take two Ditari banner ships as escorts and transit to Yugha immediately while DiKandar Hall stayed at Quelentra with the rest of the ships in need of repairs.
Text scrolled on the orders terminal. There were general reminders, but nothing that she didn’t already know well from the briefing, except for the last message. It hadn’t been sent by Captain Ettasil, or Tei Officer Sogun, but bore an unknown tag.
Mosam. Why won’t he talk to me in person? Silly thought. I don’t want to talk to him anyway.
She read the message to herself, then blinked and read it aloud.
“Yajain, please don’t be angry with me for asking you this. I have received an invitation from Csi Patla of the colony in Yugha Cluster. It’s for a holo ball, and I don’t know anyone else I’d rather ask. I know this is a strange time, but please, consider going with me. Maybe together we can convince her to offer the best help she can. Think about it. Mosam.”
Yajain stepped back from the terminal. She shook her head slowly as tears started to flow.
“You bastard. Don’t don’t do this to me.”
He can get to me like this through a computer. Damn it.
Solnakite decelerated past the hub pillar opposite Quelentra and into Yugha Cluster. Yajain left her hammock and went to the watchroom to see where they ended up.
Five pillars at the end of the corridor gleamed with solnas burning away mist for hundreds of kilometers in every direction, but even the luminous scanners were outshone by a fiery red light to the fore of Solnakite. Yajain knew only one thing brighter than five combined solnas, an active hive.
Solna’s were born in pillars with cores overcharged by an ancient solna wrapping herself around the core. Herself didn’t precisely cover the identity of the solna ancient. No one had ever gotten close enough to one to actually study the creature, even less so than other solnas. Solnakite rode forward on the vapors of transit and the infernal pillar came into view.
Its shell was molten red a few hundred kilometers above Solnakite’s flight plane, and elsewhere, igneous black. Lava flowed from openings in the pillar. In places, large sections of shell had melted and fallen away, revealing passages and enormous dimly luminous shapes that still looked tiny at this distance, the snakelike bodies of immature solnas. Yajain shielded her eyes to look closer, trying to glimpse the searing core of the hot, burning, infinitely tall column.
Fifty kilometers from the hive pillar, another pillar burned bright on the side facing the flames. Against all logic, docking ports and arms reached out, their shadows cast upon approaching gray clouds.
Someone settled a pillar so close to a hive? Who would do something like that? But the answer leapt to mind immediately from what She already knew. Csi Patla.
“Don’t look too long. You’ll go blind,” Sonetta said from behind Yajain.
Yajain turned toward her.
“What?”
“That pillar’s too bright. Even this tinted window won’t protect your eyes forever.”
“Thanks. Sorry, I guess I was thinking.”
“Evidently.” Sonetta walked around the watchroom table, eyes on Yajain. “I guess the local sorai council head stays near there.”
Yajain walked to the table opposite Sonetta.
“Csi Patla. She’s very interested in scanners.”
“Not just scanners.” Sonetta frowned and looked out the window. “The Harvest too.”
“Harvest. What do you know about that?”
“More than I did. I’ve been reading.” Sonetta returned her gaze to Yajain. “Evidently she invited Doctor Coe to a party.”
“I know,” said Yajain.
“He already told you?” Sonetta whistled.
Yajain felt her cheeks flush. She leaned back against the wall, arms folded.
“Sonetta, how much do you know about him and—”
“And you?” Sonetta shrugged. “Not a lot. But he seems special to you. Looks like it goes both ways.”
“He’s a traitor,” Yajain said. “And not just to Dilinia.”
An eruption of lava from the hive pillar made Sonetta wince and turn away from the window, blinking. She shook her head. “Agent Pansar evidently doesn’t see things that way. He’s letting him go without guards as I hear it.”
“Or he trusts the sorai.”
“No way does he trust them. It’s crazy. Coe wrecked Pansar’s hand.”
Yajain looked down at the table, its top lit red by distant flame.
“He’s trying to protect Dilinia and he thinks sending Mosam there will help that.”
“Mosam.” Sonetta sighed. “You really know him.”
“I knew him. I thought I did. He asked me to go to the ball.”
“Huh,” said Sonetta. “Sounds like he’s trying to be romantic.”
�
��If I go, it’ll be to keep an eye on him. Nothing else.”
“Really?” Sonetta asked.
I wish.
“I’m not sure. But someone needs to make sure he doesn’t betray the fleet.”
Sonetta nodded.
“I trust you.”
“Thanks.” Yajain pushed away from the wall. “I’ll go tell Captain Ettasil what’s going on.”
Captain Ettasil contacted Lord DiBaram’s banner ship at Yajain’s suggestion, and within the hour they sent a shuttle to retrieve Yajain. DiBaram himself met her in the small landing bay and then let a lian servant lead her to a wardrobe to change into a sorai fashion and hologram field sent to them with an invitation to DiBaram himself by Csi Patla.
She exchanged her uniform’s heatsuit for a cream-colored temperature regulatory suit that the servant fitted for her.
“It will keep you cool even outside Haxos Mirror.” The middle-aged Ditari woman shook her head. “I advise you, don’t rely on it for long, though.”
“I don’t plan to spend time out there at all,” Yajain said. Haxos Mirror, the settlement where Csi Patla had built her estate. Evidently, the great room where the ball would take place faced the volcanic hive pillar, named Edrid. Yajain learned much of this as the servant woman helped fit her for the clothes.
“The temperature suit has the usual arc lifts, but the dress doesn’t. Be careful with how you move in it.”
Finally, she put on the red dress supplied to her. Yajain had never worn a dress before. In Dilinia the fashion between men and women was more similar than Escaria and Morlitia, the domains of the sorai.
The skirt was long and the neckline lower than made Yajain feel comfortable. Though she knew women were treated differently in sorai society Yajain had not guessed the elder would insist on this kind of impractical style for her guests. Evidently, she could afford it though. The servant helped her fasten the necklace with the hologram field generator around her throat.
“Pressure it from both sides to activate or deactivate it.”
“Thank you.”
They exchanged smiles, though Yajain had to force hers.
Then she boarded the spartan sorai shuttle to meet Mosam and then fly to Haxos Mirror.
The shuttle descended to the landing terrace in the flaming light of Edrid Hive. Across from Yajain in the cabin of the shuttle, Mosam sat, dressed in a dark suit and coat of the style worn by wealthy sorai men. The suit’s high collar attached to a short mantle across the shoulders. His beard was trimmed short and neat, and his eyes were bright. Around his neck, a hologram generator similar to Yajain’s hung.
Yajain admitted to herself he looked more handsome than ever. He glanced at her every now and then, but never for long.
She recalled their fall past the bright core of that Ditari pillar in the Shaull Cluster. What did think of it? She fidgeted with her necklace and considered activating it now. Not yet, part of her said. Do I like that he can see me like this? And what’s the point of getting dressed up for a ball where no one can see each other?
She shifted uneasily as the shuttle touched down softly on the terrace.
Mosam rose from his seat across from her.
“It’s time.” He reached for his hologram generator, palmed it, and pressured it. A silver halo radiated out from the generator, forming a ring around Mosam’s chest. Then smaller lights shot from the generator, forming a web of straight golden lines interconnecting with one another. They angled closer and closer until they distorted Yajain’s view of Mosam entirely.
She pressured her generator as she stood. From inside the hologram, nothing appeared to change except for the occasional flicker of golden thread. Across from her, Mosam’s field took the form of a smoky black shadow. He reached toward her.
“May I take your hand?”
“You may.” She reached out and wrapped her fingers around his outstretched hand.
Together they walked through the shuttle’s rear door and down the ramp to the terrace. Yajain breathed in air drier than she had ever felt elsewhere. Even relatively hot pillars were still dominated by mist. The hive burning such a short distance away made Haxos Pillar hotter than any Yajain had experienced before. Mosam’s grip on her hand tightened as they started through a gap in the heavy black curtains that hid the entrance to the great room of Haxos Mirror Hall.
Within the enormous chandelier-lighted room people moved and danced, clad in shapes that shifted and warped between darkness and light. No one Yajain saw was without a hologram disguise, and they all seemed to distort and shift the form in different ways. She glanced at Mosam, just able to catch flickers of green eyes and brown beard through his dark guise. The door hidden from the outside by the curtains closed behind them.
“High-class party for a frontier settlement,” Yajain said.
“These sorai haven’t been poor for generations.” Mosam’s smile flashed from the darkness that hid his face. “They managed to take most of it with them into exile.”
Curiosity got the better of her.
“How did they manage that?” she asked in a softer voice as they proceeded to the center of the room beneath the balconies where more Illsirree stood talking and drinking. Yajain craned her neck, trying to make out one particular figure, a small woman clad all in green and gray moving to the edge of the balcony.
Mosam leaned in toward her, his face fully revealed but surrounded by shadows.
“They’re clever people, Yajain.”
She recoiled from him in surprise. A pair of dancers spun past in a blur of holographic animal shapes and human limbs. Yajain closed her eyes to avoid further disorientation.
“Mosam, why are we in these disguises?” she asked.
He started to answer, but a firm female voice stopped him.
“We sense without eyes what others require vision to observe.”
Yajain looked up to see the woman in green descending from the balcony on arc lifts. She landed lightly, disguise flickering on to show a bird’s head with a mane of feathers sweeping over both human shoulders
“I find it important to keep my people engaged with what sets us apart.”
“Are you?”
“Csi Patla,” the woman said and curtsied. “At your acquaintance.”
“Yajain Aksari,” Yajain said, motioning to herself. “At yours.”
Patla nodded, then turned to the living shadow beside Yajain.
“You must be Mosam Coe.”
Mosam released Yajain’s hand at last.
“I am.”
“I could see through even this veil. But the shadows suit you, child.”
“I fear I’ve lived in them too long.” Only one eye emerged, green and gleaming, but that eye locked with Yajain’s gaze for a moment before the shadows hid it once again.
How much can he see of me? How much do I want him to see? Focus. I need to make sure he doesn’t try anything and do my best explain to Patla about Captain Gattri’s refusal of Vomont’s deal.
One thing at a time.
Patla smiled at Mosam, bird’s beak changing shape to display the expression.
“Some of us prize moments of anonymity. Perhaps eventually you will join our number.”
Mosam nodded.
“Perhaps.”
“So, Yajain,” said Patla. “How do you know Doctor Coe?”
“We met just after the war ended,” said Yajain. “We were both young then.”
“And I was not.” Patla’s smile faded, returning the beak to a more natural shape. “It was a difficult time, though fascinating to look back upon.”
They stood without speaking for a moment. The hum of voices and the tap of shoes on the floor filled their silence.
“Your hologram has the head of a banner bird,” Yajain said. “Is it an emblem?”
“Yes, my personal symbol. The green banner. You seem to have a keen sense of the animal.” Patla lifted off the floor slightly, skirt swishing
about distorted ankles. “But tell me, what brought you so far, Yajain?”
“I joined the rescue fleet in Abdra Cluster,” Yajain said. “There isn’t much else to say.”
“A chance encounter brought you and Mosam together again?” Patla drifted past, effortless in her motion. “What a coincidence.”
Yajain frowned, hoping her expression went without being copied by her disguise.
“I wouldn’t say we were ever together.”
“Ah, but friendship is a way of being together.” Patla laughed. “I hope you both enjoy the ball. Perhaps you will find new friends. We will speak later.”
Patla floated off through the dancers without waiting for a reply.
Mosam turned to Yajain.
“Would you like to dance?”
She took his hand in spite of the frown hidden by her disguise. This will be one way to make sure he doesn’t cause trouble.
“Mosam, I’ve never danced in a skirt before.”
“Then it’s time don’t you think?” His shadow disguise outlined his smiling mouth.
Yajain breathed deep, smelling sweet perfume from passing sorai women, as well as the faint whiff of sulfur from the nearby hive. She took Mosam’s other hand, unsure of his fingers in a glove of darkness. They moved across the dance floor, turning slowly beneath the balcony. His feet moved back and forth, sometimes going under the hem of her skirt. His eyes remained fixed on hers, green and visible, along with occasional flickers of his face.
“Yours isn’t a very good disguise,” she said.
Mosam chuckled.
“You can see me, can you?”
She stepped past close to him, bringing their faces close together, hands still locked.
“Your eyes give you away.”
“You think I’d be better off without it?”
The holograms of other dancers circled them in a loose ring.
“I don’t think so,” Yajain said. “Besides, no one sees anyone at a party like this, right?”
“Right,” said Mosam. “Makes me wonder why the elder approached us immediately.”
Flame Wind Page 15
