by J. D. Moyer
“How is Pietro doing?”
“Really well. He’s already received his first treatment. It’s much too early to see any effect, but he’s being brave about it.”
“That’s great – I’m happy to hear it.”
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah. Feeling a little nervous.”
“That’s understandable.”
“The stakes are…higher than I’m used to.”
“Try not to start a war.”
“I’m afraid that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
“Just do your part – that’s all you can do. Share your perspective and help formulate a plan.”
“It sounds easy when you put it that way.”
“Good. I’ve got to get back to work now.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
There was so much he wanted to ask and tell her. Had she forgiven him for his night with Saga? Was she still involved with Roland, the curly-haired botanist, who in hindsight had always greeted Tem much too cheerfully? He knew he had no right to be jealous, but he couldn’t help himself.
Of course none of those questions was appropriate for a short call when both of them were busy with work. And neither was the biggest unspoken question: did they have a future together? He wanted a long heart-to-heart, just the two of them, and he sensed Maggie did too. But they hadn’t been able to arrange it before he’d had to leave.
Or maybe, on some level, they were both avoiding that particular conversation. What if they didn’t have a future together? That thought wasn’t something he could handle right now.
***
The meeting was held in a building of curved hardwood beams and crystalline glass panels that looked more like a temple than a government office. The plant-filled conference room occupied an entire floor and was open to the air, with only hanging vines as walls. Instead of a table there was a large recessed seating pit. When Tem, Regis, Jana, and Katja arrived, the Liu Hui contingent was already present. To Tem’s relief Mèng was there – at least one familiar face. An older, sour-faced Caucasian man glared at Tem as he entered. Was that Aldo Manning? One other man and two other women were present. The man was tall, thin, dark-skinned, and looked to be about Tem’s age. Both the women looked to be of mostly Asian ancestry, about the age of his mother, also tall and slender. All were dressed in the same white uniform he was wearing, with no marks to signify rank or position.
Mèng rose and made introductions. Tem had been right about Manning. The dark-skinned man was Sabra Zane, a population biologist. The women were Zhou Zi and Elanor Xun, security specialists from the Ju¯nshì branch of government.
Elanor Xun led the conversation initially, asking questions, especially of Jana and Katja. Tem found that he liked her immediately, while simultaneously realizing he was being manipulated. Elanor was charming and curious, and her lighthearted banter made everyone feel comfortable and included. But at the same time she was sizing everyone up, gauging their motivations.
It was Katja who ultimately brought up the point of their visit. “My nephew says you can help us. Maro has kidnapped Jana’s friend Filumena and one other person from Bosa. Tem says you have powerful weapons and many resources. Will you help us?”
Elanor smiled. “Of course we will help. The question is this: what is the best kind of help we can provide? The Michelangelo also possesses powerful weapons, and there are many unknowns. We must proceed carefully.”
Zhou nodded. “Before the Michelangelo departed for the outer solar system, they possessed a massive arsenal: nuclear warheads, electromagnetic railguns, powerful lasers, even conventional explosives. After decades of asteroid mining and construction, the Michelangelo has returned at more than twice its original size. No doubt their military capability has increased as well.”
“Don’t you have the same weapons?” Jana asked.
“Based on our last intelligence reports, yes,” Elanor said. “But military research and development has not been a priority on the Liu Hui. Like the Stanford, we have focussed our efforts in the fields of medicine, materials science, astronomy, Earth geology, and other areas relevant to our immediate future. The peace and security brought by the Ringstation Coalition has allowed us to do that. We assumed, wrongly, that the Michelangelo would stay in the outer solar system, wishing to be left to themselves.”
Sabra Zane spoke for the first time, addressing Tem. “What are your impressions as to their intentions regarding repopulation? Did the delegates from the Michelangelo give any indication that they wish to start settlements or build cities?”
Tem shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“I don’t think so,” Jana said. “Maro never mentioned wanting to start a town. He mentioned people from the Michelangelo staying in Bosa, but only as visitors.”
“How is Xīnanyang faring?” Regis asked. Xīnanyang was the first Liu Hui settlement on Earth, a village of a few hundred people on the island that had once been called Taiwan.
“Very well,” said Sabra. “The people are healthy and thriving. Xīnanyang is producing enormous amounts of rice, oranges, tea, asparagus, and many other fruits and vegetables. I can give you samples of the tea – perhaps we can arrange trade with Ilium. Or with Bosa,” he added, turning to Jana. “I hear you have delicious tomatoes.”
“How would you know?” Jana asked suspiciously.
Sabra raised his hands defensively. “We’re not spying, I promise. It was just something Mèng told me. Tem mentioned it at lunch, apparently?”
“What? Oh yes, I did say that,” Tem confirmed. He’d been distracted, watching Manning. The old tech had been sitting off to the side, studying a tablet, disengaged with the meeting since the initial introductions.
Regis cleared his throat. “Sorry to be blunt, but we can’t talk about tea and tomatoes all day. It looks like the Michelangelo is going to get to the Iarudi first. That’s your starship. So what are you going to do about it?”
Manning looked up from his tablet. “You used to serve on the Iarudi, didn’t you? With Commander Umana.”
“I did.”
“What was your impression of her?”
“She was strict but competent. Until she went batshit crazy.”
“You had no inkling beforehand that she was mentally unstable?”
“She had us all fooled.”
“I see. And what exactly do you think the Liu Hui should ‘do about’ the Iarudi, as you put it?”
Regis answered without hesitation. “I think you should deploy a squadron of fighters and intercept them upon their return. You have the capability – why not use it?”
“And what if those in charge of the Michelangelo deploy their own warships? What if they breach our hull with railguns? They could do so from a thousand kilometers away.”
“They wouldn’t do that. That’s insane. They’re just as vulnerable to such an attack as any ringship.”
“And you’re an infallible judge of who is a rational actor, and who is insane?”
Regis glared at Manning but didn’t immediately respond. Jana looked pleased at the rebuke.
“I think Aldo simply means to point out that the stakes are incredibly high,” Elanor said. “The Michelangelo has refused to communicate with us. That makes the intentions of their leadership extremely difficult to judge.”
“I have a better idea,” said Jana. “Can you get me to the Michelangelo?”
Everyone, including Tem, looked at Jana as if she had just regurgitated a live frog.
“Why?” Tem asked.
“I believe I could persuade Maro to return Filumena and Cristo to Bosa. And furthermore, I think I could convince him to parlay with the Ringstation Coalition. To make peace.”
“How would you do that?” Elanor asked in an even tone. Tem guessed that she was making an effort to not soun
d condescending.
“I possess something that interests him. He said so, right in front of me. He spared my life because of it. I think that curiosity is Maro’s weakness. We can use that to our advantage.”
“Tell me more about this Maro person,” Elanor said. “What is his leadership role on the Michelangelo?”
“He called himself a senator,” said Jana.
“Like a jarl?” Katja asked.
“More like an elder,” Tem explained to his aunt. “One decision-maker among many.”
“But he is hungry for more power,” Jana said. “I think he would like to be a king or a dictator.”
Sabra leaned forward, touching his fingertips together to make a tent. “What is it exactly that you possess that so interests Maro?”
Jana nodded. “It is difficult to explain, but I’ll try. When Livia killed Sperancia – a woman from Bosa who was my friend and mentor – Sperancia passed something on to me. A black egg, which I swallowed. The egg became part of my body. It is a vessel for Sperancia’s soul, and every other person before Sperancia who held the egg within their body.”
Manning looked up from his tablet again. “What the hell? What is this bullshit?”
Katja stood, reaching for where her sword would be, and crossed the seating pit in one long stride. Tem was up in an instant, locking his aunt in a bearhug and pushing her back toward her seat.
Manning snorted in disbelief. “Was she just going to…attack me?”
“Do not speak to Jana that way again,” Katja warned. “I do not need a sword to kill you.”
“Kill me? Somebody get this crazy bitch out of here.”
Katja didn’t struggle against him, but Tem maintained his grip nonetheless.
Elanor rose. “Let’s all take a ten-minute break. I’ll order some refreshments.”
Tem reluctantly released his aunt, worried that she might go for Manning again. Five minutes later a server brought in a tray of tall glasses filled with fresh watermelon juice and small bowls of spiced nuts. Manning brusquely excused himself, claiming another meeting. Katja appeared noticeably calmer after Manning had left, and ate two bowls of nuts.
“Jana, please continue,” Elanor said after they had reconvened.
Jana did her best to describe the Crucible and to explain her personal experience of being a host. Katja chimed in, sharing her own story of being forcibly enslaved by the same technology.
“It’s all true,” Tem added. “Look it up for yourself – the Crucible program was a Corporate Age brain emulation experiment. And somehow at least one instance survived. Jana may be the last, or there may be others out there.”
“There is some speculation that Commander Umana may have also been a host,” Mèng added.
“Fascinating,” said Zhou. “I can see why Maro would be interested.”
Regis scratched his head. “So we’re going to use Jana as some kind of bait? Just send her over on a shuttle? What’s to stop them from vaporizing her ship as soon as she’s within range of their lasers?”
“Just let them know it’s me,” Jana said. “I already told you that Maro had a chance to kill me. He didn’t then and he won’t now.”
“There are thousands of people on the Michelangelo. I have no idea how their ‘Senate’ works but I’m sure Maro isn’t the only decider. Hell, you might get taken out by a security algorithm.”
Jana stared Regis down, jaw tensed. “I’m not scared.”
“I’m not saying you are. But it’s still a stupid move. You don’t want to throw your life away for no good reason.”
Katja made a growl-like sound, but Jana touched her knee reassuringly. “It’s not as stupid as starting a war over two people, or an old ship.”
Mèng laughed, surprising everyone, but the mood of the room lifted.
“It could work,” Elanor said. “Just because the Michelangelo isn’t responding to our hails doesn’t mean they’re not listening. We could broadcast the fact that Jana is alone on the shuttle, even sharing the craft’s internal feeds. Their own scans would verify the truth of our claim.”
“If Jana goes, I go,” Katja said.
“Why?” Tem asked. “You going along wouldn’t make Jana any safer.”
“To sweeten the pot. I was once a Crucible host – Maro might be interested in me as well.”
Jana looked torn, but Katja smiled blithely. “Don’t worry, my love. The Three Brothers have kept me alive this long. There must be a reason.”
The Liu Hui delegates looked confused at this reference, but Tem wasn’t in the mood to explain the complexities of Happdal mythology. “Katja—” he started, but then stopped mid-sentence, realizing the futility of trying to dissuade his aunt once she had made up her mind.
“Yes, Tem?”
“Maybe Jana would be safer if you were with her,” he conceded.
The meeting continued for another twenty minutes. The others discussed timing, logistics, and contingency plans. Tem did his best to pay attention but his mind was elsewhere. What if he hadn’t stopped Katja from attacking Manning? What would have happened? Perhaps his aunt’s instincts had been right.
At the very least, Tem needed to confront the man who had participated in the murder plot against his mother. And if Manning showed no contrition, Tem would show him how the son of Esper Ariksson dealt with those who tried to harm his family.
Chapter Thirty
“Do you have plans?” Mèng asked immediately after the meeting had adjourned.
“No,” Tem said. Mèng probably knew how to find Manning, but he didn’t want to involve her. There had to be another way to track him down.
“I’d like to invite the three of you to tour the Zhangjiajie Air Park,” Mèng said, addressing Tem, Jana, and Katja. “Regis, you’re also welcome to join us, but I’m sure you’ve visited the Inner Hub before.”
“I have,” Regis said. “I think I’ll get some rest now, but I highly recommend it.”
“You can fly like birds,” Mèng said. “It is truly amazing.”
Tem had heard of Zhangjiajie, a massive circular park that occupied an entire mid-spoke ring of the Liu Hui. Gravity in the park was about .3G, enabling visitors to don artificial wings and fly like birds, weaving through towering rock spires. The park was named after a real historical park in the Hunan province of China.
“No thank you,” said Jana. “I’ve had enough floating and flying for a long time. Katja – you and Tem should go.”
“I’d love to tour the Air Park,” Tem said. He’d almost had a chance to visit Zhangjiajie as a child, but the Squid Woman had hijacked the shuttle transporting his school field trip to the Liu Hui. Just one of many pieces of his childhood she had stolen from him.
“It’s settled then. I’ll reserve your wings on the way.”
It was only a short distance to the nearest spoke. The upward acceleration of the elevator balanced out the decreasing centripetal force as they rose, but when they arrived at the Inner Hub, Tem suddenly felt lighter. Katja laughed as she took a giant step across the elevator platform. She stumbled, neatly somersaulted, and recovered, finishing with a bow. “This is already fun! I can’t wait for my wings.”
Mèng escorted them to the park entrance, and the moment they passed through the ornate gates, Tem was struck with vertigo. Suddenly they were under a blue sky dotted with cumulus clouds.
“It’s a projection,” Mèng explained. “Convincing, isn’t it?”
“What happens if you fly too close to the hub ceiling?”
“Air currents will force you back down. The park is filled with artificial winds and eddies. Some are for safety purposes, others are to make flight more exciting. Sections of the park are reserved for only the most experienced fliers, and even then there are some injuries.”
“Even at low G?”
“Remember that terminal ve
locity is dependent on aerodynamics. With your wings in a dive position, you can easily fly or fall fast enough to injure yourself.”
A couple of friendly teenage tour guides led Katja and Tem through a safety orientation and training session. The prosthetic arm-attached wings were intuitive to use, and Tem felt ready to soar after only a few minutes of practice in a wind tunnel. A com link embedded in his helmet would allow constant communication with Katja as well as Mèng, who would fly near them the whole time.
“Ready?” Mèng asked. They stood in a row at the edge of a jagged cliff towering at least thirty meters above a lush green valley.
“As I’ll ever be,” Tem replied. He ran the short distance to the edge, leapt, and spread his wings. Jumping into emptiness was very different from his brief training in the confined wind tunnel, and his stomach lurched as he plunged toward the dense vegetation below. But his wings caught the air. He was flying! This section of the park – a beginner course – featured a gentle headwind, and thus they glided slowly, side by side.
“What do you think?” Mèng asked.
“Incredible!” Katja shouted over the com.
“It really is,” Tem said. He felt light and unburdened, mentally as well as physically. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how many worries he had been carrying: Bosa’s abducted villagers, his relationship with Maggie, the possibility of Saga being pregnant with his child. Those thoughts were still there, but that’s all they were – thoughts. Ultimately he was powerless to influence anything beyond his decisions in the moment, right here and right now. All he had to do was stretch his wings and fly.
His epiphany gave him a new perspective on Manning as well. His reaction earlier had been childish, an impulse toward violence as a solution, a remnant of his upbringing in Happdal. As a child he had witnessed his own father slit Völund’s throat. Esper had not even given the smith a chance to explain himself before murdering him. And that’s what it had been – a murder. Esper had cut down Saga’s uncle and only kin without a hearing or trial. It had been Svein who’d kidnapped him, not Völund. The smith had held him against his will, but had also taught him. Tem had forged his first weapon – a crude, unwieldy dagger – in Völund’s smithy.
