Bright Shards (The Vardeshi Saga Book 2)

by Meg Pechenick

  “That still leaves a lot of possibilities,” I said.

  Hathan said simply, “We build fast ships.”

  “Are there routes you like better than others?”

  He touched a control on the bottom of the display. Most of the gold lines vanished, leaving only six or seven in addition to our original route. “Saresh and I have been picking out our favorites. This one would be interesting. This moon, Veynir, doesn’t look like much on the surface, but it’s honeycombed with natural rock caves full of bioluminescent organisms.”

  “Like algae?”

  “Not just algae. Trees, flowers, even insects and birds.”

  “The Dream Forests,” Saresh said. “Veynir is a site of pilgrimage for artists and anyone else seeking inspiration.”

  “And we’d pass by Evrathi Starhaven, where the ranshai competitions are held, on the way back to Earth. Khiva would like that. If the timing was right, she’d get to see her fiancé compete. Elteni to Rikasa would be another good one. That would give Ziral a chance to see her family. She hasn’t been home in a few years.”

  “Where’s the place with the ice mines?” I asked.

  Saresh laughed. “You’ve been talking to Zey.”

  Hathan rested a finger on the extreme edge of the map. “He needs to brush up on his navigation. Zarakhat is well out of range.”

  “Luckily for us,” murmured Daskar, who was watching the lesson with interest.

  At that moment Hathan’s flexscreen chimed: an incoming call, not a message. Without a word he rose, picked it up, and headed for the door. The conversations around us dropped into silence, and I knew the others had noted his departure as well. I didn’t look at Saresh or anyone else. Instead I stared down at the map, concentrating all my attention on the gold line that bisected it. Arkhati, Vardesh Prime, Earth. I whispered the Vardeshi translations in my mind, over and over again, like an incantation.

  Several long minutes elapsed before Hathan returned. When he did, he sat down again and studied the map another moment before touching a control on the tabletop display. The glimmering golden tracery vanished, leaving one line remaining. Arkhati, Vardesh Prime, Earth. Saresh lifted his senek cup in a reserved salute. Hathan inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the gesture. I tried to imitate their calm, but I could feel an irrepressible grin spreading across my face. The Echelon was giving me everything I wanted.

  “Sigils and emblems,” Saresh said. “They went for Zirian’s compromise?”

  “They did. We launch for Prime in two days. Along with”—Hathan consulted his flexscreen—“one Reyna Ekhran, formerly of the Izdarith, now suvi of the Ascendant.”

  I felt a sudden illogical stab of jealousy. Without thinking I said, “Reyna? Isn’t that a woman’s name?”

  Saresh gave me an odd look. Hathan said, “Does that surprise you?”

  I fumbled for a credible response. “It’s just that, when we were talking, Councilor Zirian made it sound like the Echelon officer was going to be a man.”

  Hathan said, “Considering that they wanted to put you with a crew of thirty-six, I’m sure the debate over officer selection was fairly heated. Zirian may have had someone in mind who was ultimately passed over.”

  “Ah, well,” Saresh said with a philosophical air. “It looks like the Dream Forests will have to wait a little longer for me.” He smiled at me. “Congratulations, Novi. You’re going to Vardesh Prime. Again.”

  “And you’re going to Earth. Again. We may not have any dream forests, but I promise I’ll find you something equally amazing.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

  “I’m sorry about Rikasa,” I said to Ziral. “I would have liked to see it.”

  Her smile seemed unforced. “It’s all right. I’ll try to visit on the way back from Earth.”

  “One more year,” Daskar said.

  “One more year,” Ziral agreed. The phrase sounded formulaic. I wondered if it was a mantra of long-range space travelers. From what I understood about the Fleet, reassignments and sudden route changes were commonplace, especially for those in the lower ranks. It wasn't an unusual thing to have a planned trip home delayed by months or years. Someone was always going to be disappointed, I reminded myself. No one had been absolutely guaranteed a trip home on this journey. Except me.

  Zey hung over the back of his seat to peer over at the star chart. “All right, you’ve kept us waiting long enough. Where are we going?”

  “Home,” said Saresh. “And then back to Earth.”

  “Earth!” Zey shouted and downed his senek. There was laughter from the Pinion’s crew—no, I corrected myself, the Ascendant’s crew—and most of them followed suit.

  Khiva got to her feet. “Crew of the Ascendant!” she called. “And friends, obviously. Our careers are saved, our mission has been extended, and the Echelon’s giving us a shiny new ship. We’re going drinking in Downhelix. First round is on me.”

  Amid the ensuing commotion, Saresh looked over at Hathan. “What do you say, Khavi?”

  Hathan raised a hand in demurral. “I’m out. I’m meeting with Suvi Ekhran as soon as the Izdarith docks in the morning. We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to be ready to launch in two days.”

  “You haven’t had much of a holiday,” I said. “You got, what, one day off?”

  He smiled faintly. “It’s more than I expected. My mission doesn’t end until you’re safely back on Earth. I’ll take my vacation then.”

  “Well,” I said, “you couldn’t pick a better place for it. Relaxing is one thing humans do really, really well.”

  Kylie leaned over the back of her own seat. “Speaking of which. How about it, Novi? Up for another night in Downhelix?”

  I hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s pretty late.”

  “Come on,” Zey urged. “We’ll drink to your victory over the Echelon.”

  “I think you probably shouldn’t call it that,” I said.

  “Well, not in front of Suvi Ekhran, for sure.” He winked, a mannerism that invariably made me laugh, it was so exaggerated. He’d learned it from my TV shows and Kylie’s movies, and he couldn’t seem to do it without contorting his entire face.

  Reluctantly I said, “You guys go ahead. Have an extra drink for me. Maybe I’ll stop by later.”

  “Yeah, sure. I know what that means,” Kylie said good-naturedly. She passed me my senek cup, which I’d abandoned on the other table. “Finish this, at least. It’s probably bad luck to leave it half full.” I took the cup. “Wait,” she said before I could drink. She clinked her own cup against mine. “A toast to your success.”

  “To Councilor Zirian’s success,” I corrected, and drank.

  When everyone else had departed for Downhelix or the residential wing, I found myself sitting alone with Saresh in the sudden enveloping quiet. He reached over and touched a final control on the table, darkening the display until all that remained were the soft yellow globes of the senek room’s lights, reflected in the polished surface. Then he rested his hand lightly on my shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He alone knew what this moment meant to me. I wouldn’t have cared if the Echelon had sent us to Veynir, or Rikasa, or to any of the other blue or orange icons I had seen on the chart. The important thing was that they had kept the Pinion’s crew together. They had given me nine more months with Hathan.

  “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

  “I’d like to go to sleep. But first, I should probably send a message to my parents.”

  “Not an appealing thought?”

  I sighed. “They’re not going to be happy about this news. They want me to come home. I tried to tell them about Arkhati, about how cool and exotic it was, and they took it all wrong. In their eyes, I’ve had my taste of alien culture, I’ve gotten what I came for, and it’s time to turn around. Now I have to tell them I’m going in completely the wrong direction. Farther out. And they’re going to like it even less when they hear about the offe
r I turned down. They would have been thrilled to have me on an Echelon ship. Why settle for scrubbing toilets in coach when you could be sipping champagne on Air Force One?”

  I said the last sentence in English. Saresh frowned. “I followed most of that. Of course they’d rather have you on an Echelon ship. They’re your parents. They want you to be safe.”

  “I know. And I also know that, whatever they say, they won’t be really happy until I’m soilside on Earth again. So it doesn’t actually matter what ship I’m on. Hey, but at least you get to send some good news home. You’ll be seeing your family again in three months, right? You and Zey and . . .”

  I still couldn’t bring myself to say Hathan’s name. Saresh didn’t even blink at the omission. “We’ll see our father, yes. Our mother isn’t on Vardesh Prime. She’s working on a research station on one of the outlying planets. She was home for Zey’s Institute graduation, but I doubt she’ll visit again for another few years. Probably not until one of us gets married.”

  “When,” I said, and stopped. “I want to hear more about that. But not tonight.”

  “We’ll have plenty of nights on the Ascendant,” he said reassuringly. “And no Khavi Vekesh to stop us from talking to each other. There will be time for all your questions.”

  “That’s what you think,” I said. “You don’t know how many I have.”

  Back in my room, I made a couple of abortive attempts to record a message for my parents that was equal parts firm and contrite. In the end, I left it for the morning. There was really nothing I could say to make things better. The only words they actually wanted to hear from me were “I’m coming home,” and I wasn’t ready to say them. Not yet.

  * * *

  The next two days were a whirl of pre-departure activity. The Council had sent a long list of the gear I would require to be considered fully prepared for nine additional months in deep space, given how many of my redundancies had been lost in the damage to the Pinion. Kylie and I spent several hours sorting through my provisions and checking things off, then supplementing where necessary from her equipment. I took another pass through her media files to make sure there weren’t any songs or shows I couldn’t live without. I did find one newish Vardrama I thought Zey would enjoy, although we’d have to wait until Earth to finish Divided by Stars, the show we had started before Hathan spaced all my tech. I had another complete physical examination, at the end of which the doctor (whose name I was now too embarrassed to ask) confirmed that my readings were now within acceptable parameters, although they hadn’t improved as much as she would have liked. I made a final trip to the Atrium for last-minute gifts and souvenirs, and another to the Arboretum to luxuriate in the feeling of standing beneath real trees, albeit ones enclosed by metal walls. I packed my duffel bag and persuaded Kylie to part with a couple of things for Khiva and a few more for me. I really needed another pair of jeans, and since we were exactly the same size, it seemed only fair.

  “You can get more,” I pointed out. “I can’t.” She yielded with bad grace.

  I’d had my eye on another item from her closet, a strappy black dress decorated with geometric designs picked out in tiny gold beads. She went so far as to permit me to try it on, but refused to consider parting with it. Three months ago I wouldn’t have even bothered to ask; it was too flimsy and unstructured. Now, however, it draped perfectly on my slightly leaner frame. I observed as much to Kylie, who said quellingly, “That’s not a good thing. You heard the doctor. You were supposed to be back at your original weight by this point.”

  I turned to admire the dress from another angle. “Well, you can’t say I haven’t tried. I must have eaten my weight in chocolate in the last week. Can I wear it tonight, at least?”

  “Tonight is fine. I had something else picked out anyway.”

  It was early evening of my last day on Arkhati. We had been invited, along with my crewmates, to a farewell banquet in honor of the Ascendant’s launch. The invitation had specified civilian formal wear, which I thought might be a dig at me from Governor Tavri for wearing my uniform to the welcome dinner. As little as I liked to be on display, I found myself actually looking forward to the occasion. I was eager to meet Reyna Ekhran, who had been closeted with Hathan since the Izdarith docked the previous morning, and to thank Councilor Zirian for speaking in my defense. Still, the thought of coming face-to-face with Tavri again dampened my enthusiasm a little.

  “You should be nervous,” Kylie said darkly. “After all, you basically gave her an ultimatum. If I were her, I’d be looking for a way to punish you. Nothing too obvious, of course. Maybe she’ll ask you to perform a ceremonial dance from Earth. Or translate something on the fly. That’s what I’d do.”

  “She wouldn’t,” I said, alarmed at the thought.

  “She might. If I were you, I’d keep my wits about me.”

  I finished dressing and watched while Kylie saw to her own toilette, a process considerably more involved than mine. At the last moment she rejected the dress she’d laid out in favor of a sleek black jumpsuit. When she’d finished her preparations, I held obediently still while she applied my eye makeup, a skill I’d never acquired. I hadn’t intended to wear any, but she insisted, and as I gauged the effect in the mirror, I thought she was right. Between the borrowed dress, my new haircut, and Kylie’s ministrations, I looked better than I had in a while. That fact pleased me for a reason that had nothing to do with personal vanity. When the publicity photos from tonight made their way back to Earth, Anton, my physician at the Villiger Center, and Dr. Okoye would see a different person from the hollow-eyed waif who had stumbled off the Pinion a week ago. Hopefully the pictures would lay to rest any lingering misgivings about my physical condition. As far as I was concerned, my recovery was complete.

  In the privacy of my own thoughts, though, I had to admit that there was another reason for my eagerness to depart. The Echelon had accepted the compromise proposed by Councilor Zirian, but their agreement had the feel of a concession, and I knew it could be snatched away as quickly as it had been given. I didn’t want to hang around waiting for them to change their minds. Some part of me wouldn’t feel completely secure until the Ascendant was well away, with Arkhati dwindling safely behind it in the viewport.

  We had arranged to meet Saresh and Sohra for a last drink at the Atrium. As we walked over, Kylie said, “If anyone asks you if we’re going out after dinner, the answer is no. I’ve got a surprise for you, but it’s strictly humans only. No Vardeshi allowed.”

  I eyed her warily. “What kind of surprise? You didn’t hire a stripper or something, did you?”

  “I said no Vardeshi allowed. This is just for the two of us. And that’s the only hint you’ll get. But”—she grinned—“I think you’re going to like it.”

  The four of us spent a leisurely hour watching the early evening traffic in the Atrium. Our companions were as undemanding as ever. After a while, the talk turned to the newest member of the Ascendant’s crew.

  “Have you met her?” I asked.

  Sohra shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “I have,” said Saresh.

  When he didn’t elaborate, I exchanged an exasperated look with Sohra, who prompted, “And? What did you think?”

  “I think I should let you form your own opinions.”

  “As if you could stop them,” Kylie retorted.

  He gave her an amused look. “All right, I’ll say this much. I think she’s been sent to us with an objective, and she means to achieve it. I think she views the Ascendant as an assignment like any other. Perhaps with slightly higher stakes. I don’t think she’s passionate about Earth or English or the alliance. She’s a soldier, and she’s been sent among civilians to do what I, in her place, would fully expect to be a difficult and rather thankless job

  “You didn’t like her,” Kylie said.

  “Actually I did.” The swiftness of his answer surprised me.

  I hadn’t exactly formed an image of Reyna Ekhran in my m
ind, before or after Saresh’s assessment, but I had tentatively pictured her as a sort of female version of him: tall, silver-haired, competent. When I met her in person a few minutes later, I saw that she looked nothing like him at all. The aura of quiet competence seemed to be the only trait they shared. Firstly, she was petite. The top of her head barely came to my chin, and she was slim. Her movements had the grace of a fighter or a dancer. I felt more elephantine than usual as I returned her Vardeshi salute. If I lived among these people any longer, I was going to develop a complex about tiny women. She had dark chin-length hair and dark wide-set eyes and a perfectly pointed chin. Her coloring, added to the flatness of her features, made her appear more Asian than alien. She was in civilian wear, per the invitation, but I thought the ensemble she had chosen—black and white with touches of indigo—might be a nod to Echelon colors. She greeted me matter-of-factly in her own language, addressing me as “Novi Alkhat,” two immediate points in her favor.

  “Suvi,” I said. “I hope your voyage on the Izdarith was untroubled.” Zey had taught me that it was proper protocol on meeting a fellow Fleet employee to inquire about the success of her previous mission. I prayed that the same held true for the Echelon, or, barring that, Suvi Ekhran would recognize the attempt at courtesy for what it was.