by TS Hottle
"Why are we here?" JT asked as Tishla dropped them off at the Founders' Mine. The old entry yard, once enclosed by giant metal doors and enclosed by stone walls, now sat open. Six spacecraft in various conditions sat before the actual mine entrance. One looked new but had crews in Colonial Guard and Metisian Planetary Guard coveralls crawling all over it. It had a gouge in the port orbital engine.
Two more predated the Polygamy Wars from a dozen years earlier. Suicide had learned to fly in one of the flat, round craft. That had been twenty-five years earlier. Even then, Akram, her teacher and childhood friend, had said they were on the way out.
"We're not flying in any of those, are we?" asked JT.
"All real pilots do, eventually." She suppressed a smile as she watched JT shudder. He shuddered again as they both turned their attention to a civilian craft nearly fifty years old. The words "Dasarius Logistics" could still be seen on the underside.
"I definitely don't want to fly that," said JT.
"Issues with your mother?" Said mother went by the surname Dasarius, which partially explained why JT had ended up on Amargosa. Partially, but not completely.
"I'd just like to keep all my air once we're space-borne," he said. "I'd also like to not crash."
Suicide laughed as they walked toward the next craft. Bulbous, sitting on flexible landing struts, it looked more like some sort of insect. The hull changed colors as they moved toward it, suggesting graphite at least in the outer skin. The base color of the hull was black, but the colors formed faint rainbow patterns as the angle of view changed.
"What the hell is that?" asked JT.
Something resembling a chimpanzee wearing dirty coveralls walked down the path with a bow-legged gate. Its hands hung just above the ground, but its movement suggested this creature did not like to touch the ground if it could help it.
"This, mud dweller," it said in a male-sounding voice, "is the finest in Zaran small spacecraft technology." It, or rather he, spoke perfect Humanic with a flat, Central Plains accent, as though he'd lived on Amargosa all his life. More likely, he had learned Humanic from another Mars-founded world, although the open collar suggested one that did not require domes. "Discreet projection drive, reaction mass sublight propulsion, and yes, fragile human, it has grav plates. You think my kind can do hard burns not knowing how many Gs we can pull from minute to minute?"
JT cocked his head one way, then the other, then craned his neck to look up under the ship. "Where's the projection drive?"
The Zaran looked at Suicide, brows rising on the brow ridge over his eyes. "Thought you told me this one was a pilot, Cui."
"He is," said Suicide. "Not a bad one, either. Could be a great one if I can get him to do his time in our Navy before Amargosa finally secedes from the Compact."
"I thought we already had."
"We?" said JT.
"I've lived here for ten years," said the Zaran. "When the Gelt invaded, I just took off my clothes, ran into the woods, and chattered at the Gelt in my own language. How do they know we don't have hairy apes here?"
"So, you're…?"
"A Resident, kid. I'd have Compact Citizenship, but everything I've seen since I came here suggests it's not worth it." The Zaran swung up a hand at JT. Suicide noticed he had a five-fingered hand like any human, but the thumb had three joints and a retractable claw. She also noticed the claw on his right hand, the one reaching for JT, had gouges and embedded grease in it.
"Farava et Boolay du Massa," said the Zaran. "Just call me Boolay."
JT shook Boolay's hand. "JT Austin."
"Does this one have a call sign like you, Suicide?"
"All Compact pilots do," said Suicide.
"And his is…?"
JT turned red, pressing his lips thin. He mumbled his call sign.
"I couldn't quite catch that, mud dweller," said Boolay.
"He said it's Little Wing," said Suicide.
"Can we change it, please?" said JT. "Something like Slayer or Maverick or something?"
"No," said Suicide. "So, Boolay, what ship is this? And is it a loaner or property of Amargosa?"
"This," said Boolay, "is the Queen of the Canopy. And she's a gift to your provisional government from my people. Why they chose me to be its engineer, I'll never know. But, I'll have you know, I spent the last week installing butt huggers, though I kept a few harnesses for myself. I can't sit in a chair for very long. Hurts my back."
"'Butt huggers'?" asked JT.
"Chairs," said Suicide. "Zarans ride in harnesses and crash couches."
"Not sure who's worse," said Boolay. "You Sapiens or the Orags. Such delicate backs."
Suicide shrugged. "Made it into space, didn't we?"
"Yeah, but we didn't have to come down from the trees to do it." Boolay motioned the humans up the ramp. "Well, let's get it airborne, see if Little Wing can handle a Zaran craft in atmospheric flight."
The ship actually did not differ all that much from other spacecraft Suicide had been aboard. She had ridden or flown ships built by Gelt, Laputans, Qorori, and Orags. Of the four species, only the Laputans had ships she found uncomfortable. Between two and three meters tall, everything on Laputan craft made other species seem like children. The Zarans made use of ceilings and floorboards more, and the bulkheads had more handholds than zero-G would justify. The designers meant for the Queen of the Canopy's crew to climb around when the grav plates were engaged. Take care of false gravity, and zero-G or microgravity would take care of itself.
True to his word, Boolay had installed human-friendly seats in the cockpit. They looked out of place to Suicide, perhaps because the subtle effect of the ship's layout suggested web harnesses and gelled crash couches with no obvious reason for them. The rounded bulkheads and handholds on the ceiling suggested Zaran rather than human to her. Probably to JT as well.
"Touch and holographic inputs," said Boolay. "On their own power supply. The Queen runs its interfaces off a battery that gets topped off during flight. Even has an emergency comm system that can send out a virtual black box if the ship crashes." The Zaran grinned, which unsettled Suicide more than Tishla's canine-filled smile. He looked like a chimp, which was not supposed to bare its teeth. "The other advantage is it can pick up your language when you login. No relabeling the controls. Besides, you humans have too many languages to guess what you speak." He looked at JT. "You, Earthman, bet you speak English when she's not around."
"No," said JT, settling into what he seemed to think was the copilot's seat. "Not really. Plain ol' Humanic."
"Pity. English sounds like gargling. Reminds me of home."
JT raised his eyebrows at Suicide, who shrugged.
She settled into the pilot's seat, or what she hoped was the pilot's seat. "Are we positioned correctly?"
"If you want the ship flown by a guy calling himself 'Little Wing,' yes." Boolay pulled a lever over his head. The seat by the engineer's station folded into the deck while a webbed harness fell from the ceiling. Grabbing the harness, he flipped himself upside down and tumbled into it. The harness wrapped itself around him, hanging him upside down over the station. "Mother, I'm speaking Humanic and riding inverted for atmospheric."
"Engineer Farava et, inverted holographics and Humanic voice interface activated," said the computer in that annoyingly pleasant tone computers had. The voice sounded like a Dasarius spacecraft.
"If the two of you could introduce yourselves," said Boolay. "Name, operating authority, call sign."
Suicide gave JT a quick nod.
"Lieutenant JT Austin," he said. "Detached to the provisional government of Amargosa and the Republic of Metis. Call sign Little Wing. I will be the pilot."
"Lieutenant Commander Cui Yun," said Suicide. " Detached to the provisional government of Amargosa. Call sign Suicide. I am the copilot." She inserted a chip into the ship's reader. "Please upload the flight plan to Misty Mountain Control and signal when they verify."
That took less than five seconds before the
console chimed. "Clearance granted."
"Notify New Siberia Platform we will be directly flying to Chapaan Village." After the console acknowledged moments later, she added, "Little Wing, she's your bird."
"Control," said JT, "this is Little Wing, departing aboard the Queen of the Canopy."
Control paused, then said, "Really, kid, you couldn't come up with a better call sign?"
JT grinned at her. "'Suicide' was taken, and no one would let me use God of Vengeance."
Suicide groaned in response. "Let's go, Venj. Time we picked up Carolyn Best."
Once the Queen reached cruising altitude, the flight over Amargosa's polar continent took two hours. They brought the ship down to fifteen hundred meters as they approached sapient lycanth territory. Suicide called their course in to the platform nearest Chapaan Village. JT took the ship down to seven hundred meters, low enough to land on the platform, but high enough to stay out of the way of traffic landing on and departing the tower looming over the forest.
"Tower, Little Wing," said JT, "do we have confirmation the village knows we are coming?"
"Stand by, Queen," the tower called back.
"I'll take her down to five hundred meters," said Suicide. "Just above the forest canopy. Shouldn't spook anyone too bad." By anyone, she meant the sapient lycanths on the forest floor, many of whom still had never seen an aircraft up close. The canopy drew closer. Her console showed they were still five hundred kilometers out. "Tower, this is Suicide. We're still waiting."
After a few moments, the tower called back, "Queen, tower, we've lost contact with Chapaan Village."
"Lost contact?"
"Queen of the Canopy," said another voice, this one female and somewhat stern, "this is Minerva Actual. Are you tracking a high-speed object near your position?"
JT arched his brows in surprise. "That's the new Metisian starship. Why are they calling us?
"If we're getting calls from orbit," said Suicide, "you need to answer."
JT pulled up a holographic console. "Minerva, Little Wing, what vector?"
"Wing, altitude five thousand meters and falling, estimated impact point four hundred fifty klicks from your position, dead ahead. Adjust twelve degrees west for Coriolis."
JT hand manipulated his new holo screen. A tiny object plummeted toward a target on the forest floor. "Minerva, I'm showing point of impact as…"
"Chapaan Village." Suicide looked up just in time to see something streak from above to a point beyond the horizon. There came a flash, followed by a column of smoke.
RETROACT: 400 IE
Shandug, Tian
Yun held an icepack over her eye. Next to her, a boy her age winced as the nurse wrapped his ribs with tape.
"That was some amazing fighting you did," said Yun. "Thanks for jumping in."
The nurse tightened the wrap, causing the boy to suck his breath through his teeth. "No problem. I think you had those bullies. I just didn't like them… um…"
Yun smiled. "Ganging up on a girl?"
"Well… Yeah." He accepted his shirt from the nurse. "My name's Akrad. Akrad Izumi."
"Cui Yun." Her smile turned into a grin. "Yun is my given name."
"I, er, know. I live on Tian, too."
"Izumi. I thought you were from the American regions."
"It's, um, Japanese-based, not English."
Yun laughed. Until her father appeared in the doorway. Both Yun and Akrad straightened. Cui Jiao-long marched in, jaw set, eyes narrow.
"Yun," he said sharply. "Come with me."
Yun stood, head down, and followed her father out. Before leaving the room, she turned and waved to Akrad. Akrad gave her a wide smile. She turned and fell in step alongside Jiao-long. They walked in silence through the corridors and out the front entrance of the school where his Navy-issue flitter waited.
In the vehicle, Jiao-long said, "The headmaster told me what happened."
"We sent those bullies to the emergency department," said Yun, still looking down and serious.
He put the flitter into self-driving mode. Reaching over to squeeze her shoulder. "You know violence is a last result."
"Yes, father."
"And did they back down?"
"They did not."
He pulled his daughter into an embrace. "I'm proud of you, Yun."
4
The smoke had dissipated by the time the Queen of the Canopy had landed. JT found a clearing about a kilometer out from the village. Suicide led JT and Boolay down the boarding ramp. Outside, the damp air reeked of dirty smoke and something else she did not want to think about.
Five lycanths surrounded them, but no Gelt settler appeared with them.
"Where is your translator?" she asked them.
A large female with mottled fur stepped forward on her hind legs. The set of her shoulders resembled the wild lycanths of the human side of Amargosa just before they struck. "Dead. I speak Humanic for us."
"In the explosion?" asked JT.
"Why you drop fire on us?" the female asked.
Suicide put up her hand and stepped forward. "I'm here to find out why fire is coming down. A colony on our side of the world was hit yesterday."
The lycanth cocked her head. "Last sun?"
"Must be the way the Gelt translate it," said JT. "Two suns ago, actually. Ellie Nardino is there with some of your kind."
"Chapaan," said the big lycanth. "Good monkey. We like her." She leaned down into Suicide's face. "We not know you. Not like you. Leave."
"We didn't attack you," Suicide said calmly. "We saw the attack when we approached."
"Why you not land on metal tree?"
"Metal tree?" asked JT.
"The landing towers in the forest," said Suicide. "We come for a human she cub." She held out her hand flat at waist level. "About so high? Barely able to speak Humanic."
The lycanth turned and grunted at her companions, all still on their haunches. They made that warbling noise that was their language. The female in charge turned back. "You friends Ellie?"
"Yes. They call me Suicide."
The female swung her head toward her companions and warbled. It sounded like she said "Suicide" to them. They all shook their heads from side to side in a gesture that equaled a nod among primates. "You. Come with. Others, stay. Just Suicide."
"I'll try not to take that personally," said Boolay, "even if I could spend months up in your trees. Already have, actu—"
"Quiet," said Suicide. "Is the girl alive? Her name is Carolyn."
The lycanth waved her snout back toward the forest behind her. "Come with."
"You two mind the ship," said Suicide. "JT, try to raise New Lansdorp or the Minerva. I'll be back shortly." She trotted behind the lycanths, keeping up with their loping gait.
They followed an old gaming trail through the woods for about a kilometer before emerging into a village. Suicide looked down and found a fragment similar to the one given to her in the enclave the previous day. It, too, had the Juno symbol crudely etched on it, but the stamp from the manufacturer made it unmistakable.
The blast had sheered the Seal of the Sovereign of the Realm in half, but Suicide had no doubt someone meant for it to be found. She pocketed it.
They emerged from the woods to what remained of a human village. Or a human/Gelt village. On this side of Amargosa, the distinctions took on less importance. Here, lycanths not only spoke, they ruled. A large crater smoked, some ten meters deep and fifty meters wide. All the houses, really primitive shelters erected for the primates staying in this part of the forest, lay flattened, some in flames. Suicide's stomach turned. "Was anyone hurt? Killed?"
"Some," the she-lycanth grunted. "Warned before strike. Most in caves."
Then why the hell show me this? she thought. I need to see the live ones. "What about your people?"
"Lycanths run to forest. We fast."
"Contact the humans? Gelt? Any rescue teams?"
"Lycanths come. Be here soon. No need monkeys."
> Suicide wondered when that slur for primates, particularly humans, came into use among the sapient lycanths. "Humans have equipment, shuttles. Gelt can use those things, too."
"No more monkeys. They do this to us, we not want them."
"What about Nardino?"
"Ellie different. Ellie one of us. She pack leader."
Suicide blew out her breath, realizing that she would have to leave this situation in the hands of a seventeen-year-old girl. Granted, Ellie Nardino had grown up far faster than even JT and the other so-called "Children of Amargosa." Suicide knew well what she could do negotiating between three species. She simply did not want to ask more of the girl. Too much had been asked of her already, even after the liberation. "Show me the caves. I need to see who lived."
The she-lycanth grunted and swung her head toward a large hill to the west of the village. Suicide trotted after the pack, back into the woods. Brush and branches slapped at her legs and torso. It seemed to her that the lycanths did not care if she could catch up. Why should they? Monkeys brought down fire from the sky. So, monkeys did not matter so much now.
They came up on a series of caves in another clearing, nearly two kilometers from the village. No one waited for them when they arrived.
"They inside," said the she-lycanth. "Not come out until good monkeys come."
Suicide did not realize, at least from the she-lycanth's point of view, that any monkeys could be called good. She cupped her hands around her mouth. "My name is Suicide. I'm a friend of Ellie Nardino, Chapaan. The one you named the village for. I'm looking for a little girl named Carolyn."
No one emerged.
"I'm not here to harm the girl. I'm here to take her to someone her father trusts."
"Who?" a male voice called back.
"Someone off-world who can hide her."
"Tishla?"
Suicide looked back at the she-lycanth, who dipped her head to the right, her species' version of a curt nod. She turned back. "Yes."
A human male, dressed in outdated combat fatigues, appeared at the mouth of the cave. He held a KR-16 hunting rifle across his chest. The weapon served almost as a security blanket. "You are her. You're Suicide."
