Jahir met his gaze.
“What are you planning?” the drake growled.
“Somehow I doubt you’ll get an answer given you ordered it gagged.” The Usurper sounded bored. “Can we move on from your unnatural fixation on the creature? We do have work to do.”
“I insist on the blindfold. And the ears.”
The Usurper sighed. “Fine.”
The guard’s footsteps receded. Second remained, staring at Jahir, so he remained composed and thanked Lisinthir for every hateful, difficult moment he’d forced during their trysts. The gag was bad enough: he hated the taste of it, and the distortion of his lips, and the vague sense that he couldn’t help drooling around it. But to be deprived of sight and hearing as well? He’d found it impossibly difficult in loveplay until Lisinthir had worked his terror out of him.
But accepting the sensory deprivation in bed was very different from doing so at the hands of their enemies.
Second was scrutinizing his face, waiting for some sign. Fear. Hatred. Defiance. Jahir called instead on years and years of work with people, years that had taught him compassion and patience. He let that well into his eyes and sensed the Chatcaavan’s disquiet.
Disquiet. Not frustration. Jahir had expected frustration. There were complexities to Second that defied facile explanation.
“You have them?” the Usurper said. “Good. Apply them and let’s get this over with.”
One guard wrapped a black leather cloth around his eyes while the other wedged a wad of cloth in his ear. Jahir inhaled once, slowly, forcing his ribcage not to lift. This, too, he would endure. His moment would come.
CHAPTER FOUR
The lessons Sediryl’s mother had pressed on her regarding the behavior proper to young Eldritch ladies had always seemed ludicrous, first because the proper task of a Nuera heir was managing a farm, and what did deportment have to do with that? And second because even as naïve as she’d been, Sediryl had known their homeworld was dying, and why bother with dinner parties and silverware and proper attire at that point? So naturally she was setting out a formal tea table—more or less—in the middle of a warzone while operating under comm silence and surrounded by pirates. Sediryl looked at the linen tablecloth she’d brought forth from a cabinet in the small mess with resignation. Of course, an Eldritch vessel had a fancy table service hidden onboard. It even had the Galare unicorn embroidered on it. She hadn’t bothered with the whole set, but a cloth to make the table pretty, one teacup each and one plate each…
Her mother would have said that such things assured people that civilization reigned even in the midst of turmoil. Her mother, Sediryl admitted privately, might have been correct. If she could still set a nice table, even an abbreviated one, then the situation could not, categorically, be dire.
“I’m opening the Pad tunnel,” Maia warned.
“Coming,” Sediryl said, and headed for the back of the ship.
The Pad on the Visionary was in the cargo hold, which was an awkward place to greet a guest. But the woman who stepped into the ship over the Pad didn’t seem to find it odd. She glanced at her surroundings once, then stepped toward Sediryl, offering her palm. “Alet? I am Daize Oodenii Pera, the Faulpendai of the vessel Willseeker.”
“Daize-alet.” Sediryl covered the alien’s hand. “Welcome aboard the Visionary.”
“The Visionary! This is your vessel’s name?” Daize’s ears twitched. “Surely our meeting is fated, then, for that is an auspicious name among us.”
“I don’t doubt that this meeting will end well—for us,” Sediryl promised. “And poorly for our enemies.” She smiled. “This way? I have a table set for us. We can talk.”
Sediryl used the walk to the mess to admire her guest. She’d seen stills of the Faulfenza in passing, but never studied them closely, and she doubted any still would have conveyed the magnetism of the species anyway. The Faulfenza were widely held to be an attractive people, and at least half of that had to be their demeanor… because there was an essential serenity in Daize’s carriage that made her agitation feel temporary, or surmountable. The other woman was taller than Sediryl, a biped with digitigrade legs and a dense, sleek body: furred and muzzled, like the Pelted, but something about the configuration hinted at alien evolution rather than the endless variation on Terran animals one sensed looking at the Alliance’s core races.
She was a warm dark gray in color, with creamy ventrals lined with wine red fur, and her eyes were violet. She wore what looked like a uniform: black, like Fleet’s, but edged in red and orange.
“My crewmate tells me this tea is safe for us both,” Sediryl said once they reached the table. “Her name is Maia, and she’s a D-per, if you know what that is?”
“A digital personality, yes? I have heard of them.” Daize seated herself and looked toward the door. “Will she join us?”
“She would like to, I’m sure,” Sediryl said. “Maia?”
The D-per materialized, wearing her more Seersan-like shape, but in lavender and purple with the glitter trailing off her hair and tail. The Faulfenzair watched with interest as she approached.
“Alet,” Maia said with a bow.
Daize offered a hand, which the D-per covered, and then they were all seated.
“So,” Sediryl said, pouring tea for them all. “You lost your ship.”
Daize lowered her gaze. “Yes. You find me in the vessel’s single shuttle. It has no capacity to traverse the Silence, so I could not leave to find help. They have taken the Willseeker, and all nineteen of our remaining crew.”
Sediryl winced. “Did they attack you, then? While you were doing something else?”
The alien shook her head, ears tightening. They were wide, with two tips, and they… rolled… rather than flattened, in a way Sediryl found fascinating. “Several freighters traveling to Qufiil went astray, and then a Terran scout ship, and finally a Fleet courier. We found these disappearances suspicious, so we decided to investigate. It was an area between our worlds and the border of your Alliance, and this system is almost in a straight line between them, so…” The tightened lips read as a grimace. “We had just entered the area when we were captured.”
“Faulfenzair vessels aren’t armed as a matter of course, are they?” Maia said, holding her cup between her palms as if warming them. Did the D-per feel warmth, Sediryl wondered? Or were the mannerisms learned to put others at ease?
“Not typically, no,” Daize said. “But the Willseeker was among a small number of experimental military vessels we have developed in response to the predations of pirates, who are more typical on this side of your border. They do not trouble us near our worlds, but to allow them to strengthen has been deemed perilous. We have borrowed the Duster design from you,” bowing her head toward Maia, “but the weapons systems we designed ourselves.” She hesitated, then added, “It is all in our language, as well. The computers. We don’t have your translation features onboard.”
Maia frowned. “Huh. Interesting. Well, they could bring translators aboard, but it would be cumbersome. They might not be able to make great use out of it, particularly if your weapons systems aren’t familiar to them. That’s useful to know.”
“I would feel better about this if they did not have so many other ships to use instead,” Daize said. “These pirates… we did not expect a base with a fleet around it. It cannot be allowed to stand. Particularly so close to Terra and Qufiil.”
“Absolutely not,” Sediryl said. “Especially with a war breaking out.”
The Faulfenzair’s hand twitched on the way to her cup. “You tell me this is so? You now have a war? With the dragons.”
“Yes,” Sediryl said. “It’s finally started.”
Daize pulled her hand back as if stung. “Not mere skirmishing?”
“No,” Maia said. “It’s the real thing this time. And unfortunately these pirates are involved. Our intelligence suggests the border attacks happening coreward of the Bright Belt now are at the behest of the Chatcaava,
to distract the Alliance from their first attacks.”
“But we’re not sure,” Sediryl finished. “We just arrived ourselves. We had no idea the extent of… this.” She waved a hand at the windows. “We thought that all the pirates were dedicated to those diversionary attacks, but then we find this? What are these people doing here? And where are they going next? That’s what we have to find out.”
The Faulfenzair looked from Maia to Sediryl and back.
“That’s why we’re here,” Maia said.
Daize folded her hands on the table. “Tell me, please. What you plan.”
And that was the question, wasn’t it. Sediryl opened her mouth to confess she had no idea, but what came out of her mouth was, “I’m going to go in as an independent.”
Both said ‘What?’ almost in unison. Maia followed up more quickly. “Excuse me?”
Sediryl turned her cup on the table, watching the light brown liquid in it shiver. “I know from Liolesa—that’s my Queen, Daize-alet—that an Eldritch traitor sold information about us to pirates. We killed him, but there’s precedent there. If I claimed to be another such traitor, willing to resume the trade… I bet they’ll accept me.”
“Bet?” Maia repeated incredulously.
“You would have to establish your bona fides,” Daize said slowly. “Or why would they not capture you? Are your kind not valuable? I have heard it said. You have some of Faulza’s gifts.”
Sediryl glanced at the Faulfenzair. Maia supplied, “Faulza, the god. Yes, alet?”
“Yes,” Daize said. “The God gives powers, mind and flesh. We have heard that your kind have some of those abilities, and that you live long, a little longer than we do.” She rested her eyes on Sediryl, reminding the Eldritch absurdly of the gladiolus flowers that used to bloom outside her first apartment on Starbase Ana. “I have often wondered it, personally. If the God had brought you forth among Others, to give us company amid those who die more swiftly.”
She couldn’t even begin to speak to that. Not all their longevity would matter if they couldn’t figure out how to handle this situation.
“All of this assumes that we’re going in at all,” Maia said finally. “There’s no reason we can’t do some very careful flybys, take a lot of pictures, and hightail it back for friendly space to make our report.”
“That does seem like wisdom,” Daize said. “What we three could do alone is minimal.”
“We’re assuming that the Alliance is going to be able to send anyone to deal with these people,” Sediryl said. “I’ve seen the size of the Empire. If they have as big a military as they have space… we’ll lose.”
A silence.
“Is she correct?” Daize asked Maia.
Maia grimaced, looking away. “Anyone can lose a war. If they’re stupid about it.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. No glitter now, Sediryl noted. “But yes. Unless there’s something going on I don’t know about… I don’t see a way out of this. That doesn’t change that the three of us aren’t going to be able to destroy a pirate fleet.”
“No,” Sediryl said firmly. “But we could take charge of it.”
“What?” Daize asked.
“And use it to attack the Chatcaava,” she finished.
“What?” Maia said, eyes round.
“It’s perfect,” Sediryl said. “I come in as another Eldritch quisling. I get myself introduced to the pirate in charge of this rabble. And I either seduce him, so that he does whatever I tell him, or I become his most trusted confidant and convince him that killing the dragons is in his best interests.” She glanced at Maia. “Weren’t you saying when we first got here that we can’t tell which way a criminal rabble like this will jump? Why not make them jump the way we want?”
“And if you fail?” Maia said.
“Then I die, or I end up a slave,” Sediryl answered, pretending to a courage she was entirely sure she didn’t possess. “And all we’ve lost is one person. They won’t even know that the Alliance is aware of them, because they’ll think I’m Baniel’s replacement.” She leaned toward Maia. “That’s another reason I have to do it, don’t you see? This is my chance to find out how deep Baniel was with these people when he betrayed Liolesa. I have to know. She needs that information.”
“Which you won’t get to her if you die,” Maia pointed out dryly.
“But she’ll never have it at all if I don’t go in!”
Maia sighed. “This is a ridiculous idea.”
“But?”
Maia turned to the Faulfenzair. “You’ve had a Duster installed. Does that mean you can work with Alliance systems?”
“I, personally?” the Faulfenzair answered, puzzled.
“No, your ship.”
“Oh!” Daize folded her hands on the table. “The Duster is operated via a discrete system which interfaces with our computers by passthrough. That system was installed by Alliance engineers.”
Maia inhaled. “All right. Here’s what I propose if you’re dead set on pursuing this scheme. We send this ship back to the nearest safe place to transmit the data we’ve already gathered—”
“But that could take—”
Maia held up a hand. “I’ll go with it. You stay here with Daize on her Dusted shuttle… and me. Unless that box is tiny, I should be able to make use of it. The three of us in-system will spend the time figuring out how to insert you so that the moment the Visionary gets back, we can get you down there to wreak whatever havoc you can.”
“Really?” Sediryl asked. “You’re saying ‘yes’?”
Maia smiled crookedly. “The Queen put you in charge of this mission, not me, arii. And while I think it’s an absurd risk for the heir to an empire, I also know that sometimes wars turn on suicidal gambles. And it’s your gamble to make. But I’m telling you—the odds are terrible.”
She felt like every muscle had clenched in her torso, and her stomach wanted to bring up the biscuit crumbs she’d managed to eat. The thought of going amid that many of the enemy was petrifying. She absolutely didn’t want to do it. And she absolutely had to. How could she face her Queen without having tried? Her cousins, who had fought dragons? How could she look at herself in the mirror? Even Bethsaida had gone into the Empire and come out of it again. “Is this plan good with you?” Sediryl asked Daize.
Daize cocked her head, ears spreading. “I do not believe I have met you only to die. Our meeting was purposed by the God. If this is the course you must take, then… there is something to be learned by it.”
“Even if I die?” Sediryl asked, fascinated.
“If you die, perhaps your death will be necessary for His plan.” The Faulfenzair gave a sad, uncertain smile. “This is not to say that I hope for death, or for the suffering of my Faulfiirla and our crew. But we must trust to the Divine purpose, or surely we must despair.”
This was more religion than Sediryl found comfortable. Like every other Eldritch woman, she prayed to the Goddess and Lord, but she doubted they intervened in anything, particularly anything as minor as two people in stealthed ships meeting in a system occupied by thousands of vigilant slavers.
Then again…
Sediryl exhaled and said, “Unless anyone has any better ideas?”
Daize said, “I have been in this system for nine days by Faulfenzair timekeeping. I can give you this additional data for the Alliance’s use.”
When Sediryl glanced at Maia, she found the Seersa scowling, ears flattened. But on noticing the Eldritch’s quizzical look, the D-per said, “The only other ideas I can think of are staying here and observing, or leading someone back. The latter would require there to be someone to lead back, and there’s no guarantee of that with the weight of metal the Empire’s about to throw at us. And while we could sneak around and gather data remotely, every hour we’re here is an hour closer to an accidental discovery. Plus, we run the risk of staying too long. The data’s no good if we get it to the decision-makers too late.”
“So, my plan is the best plan?”
Maia looked pained, her fur shedding violet fluff that dissipated with faint, dissonant noises. “Calling it the best plan is stretching things. Let’s just call it the least bad.” She rose. “Daize-alet, if you can come fore with me, we can see if we can pry open that discrete system.”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’ll go prepare,” Sediryl said.
Maia eyed her skeptically, but glided off with the Faulfenzair behind her. Sediryl was not glad to be left alone because without company she had no one to fight over her idea's merits. And now that she wasn’t fighting for it, she was sure it was the worst plan in the universe and it was going to get her killed before she could become a Queen, or ask Lisinthir how he’d acquired the scar at his brow, or find out how Jahir kissed.
But she was the woman of the hour. And thank the Goddess, she had at least one arrow in her quiver. Hyera, her second lover, had been an artist with a performer’s spirit. It was Hyera who’d taught her that dressing to look like a role helped one enact it. At the time, Sediryl had been convinced this was rationalization on the part of a girlfriend who really liked designing clothes for someone who looked like an elf out of legend. In retrospect, Sediryl thought otherwise. When she’d donned the costume of Liolesa’s ambassador from the new Eldritch Empire to the Alliance, with the broad sash and the pins that had been sent by courier because they had to be the real pins, made by Eldritch hands… she had felt different. Capable. Like she could handle the responsibilities. People had certainly treated her differently, and that had helped too.
Hyera had designed her dozens of costumes and gifted her the patterns. And the ship had a genie that could produce any of them. She started sorting.
Maia’s knock surprised her from her efforts. Glancing up, she found the Seersa leaning against the frame of the hatch, something that seemed natural until one saw she had no feet, just a drift of sparkling color. That made her smile, despite her fear. “Did Daize go back already?”
“It’s been half an hour,” Maia said. “And yes, she’s over on the shuttle. I am too, we’re making the node more robust.”
In Extremis Page 4
