Shadow Call

by Michael Miller

  I looked around, trying to spot someone in the crowd who carried with them the telltale air of a politician. “Where are they? And who elects them?”

  “They elect themselves whenever they feel like it. If you have something to say, and you feel you can represent a village with your stance, you go up to a stump,” Telu replied, lowering herself into a crouch on the floor, as though settling in for a long wait. “If enough people disagree with you, they can come up with a different representative instead.”

  I shook my head. “I never read any of this in our records on Alaxak. What if people are unhappy about a decision that gets made when they aren’t here?”

  “Should have been here, then, shouldn’t they?” Arjan interjected, and then fell silent as someone in the crowd approached us.

  Tall and solidly built, he wore an overcoat covered in buckles that reached down to his knees, and a pair of goggles strapped to the top of his head. Like many others there, he was obviously a pilot, likely of a Shadow-fishing vessel. Most curiously, his hair was streaked with gray; older Shadow fishermen weren’t exactly unheard of, but they were much less common.

  Telu stood up abruptly, tension radiating off her in waves. Jaw clenched, she exchanged glances with Qole.

  He stopped a few feet away and nodded at her. “Telu, it’s good to see you looking so well.”

  The normally verbose Telu stared at him for a moment. Finally, she said, “Thanks. I hope you’re here to fight the scat that the Dracortes are raining down upon us.” She kept her tone neutral, but her words were clipped, precise.

  He made a noncommittal gesture. “I have been made aware of…details that perhaps not everyone has. I’m about to share them with everyone, and I’m glad you’ve come to hear me out—as family should.”

  He then nodded at Qole in casual acknowledgment, never mind that it was she who had called this gathering. She only returned his gaze steadily until he left.

  “Family?” I murmured.

  “Uncle. Dad’s side,” Telu said shortly.

  Qole’s gaze and mine finally met, her look confirming everything I needed to know.

  Telu’s father had been an alcoholic, and worse, abusive to his family. Qole had helped Telu frame her father for shooting down a drone, one of the few offenses that caused the offworlder peace officers on Alaxak to enforce the law. Telu’s father was still in prison, as far as I knew. Qole had told me the story in confidence, but she had never mentioned any other of Telu’s family. I would have thought any kin would have stepped up to help Telu first, but apparently not.

  Her uncle, however, was the first to enter the circle. He raised his hand at a black stump, which acted as a lectern. Qole nudged Arjan, and they both slid forward through the crowd as the man began to speak. I stayed with the others. Eton, Basra, and I were offworlders who wouldn’t have much say here, and Telu looked as though she didn’t want to get near her uncle.

  “Friends and family!” he intoned, his voice sonorous and carrying easily to the far reaches of the warehouse. “We know why we are here. Great changes are coming, and our people are in danger.” He paused, his gaze sweeping the crowd, and I could have sworn it lingered on our little group. “My name is Hiat Uvmathun, and I have more news. I believe that if we act wisely, remembering the good decisions made at each stump in the past, we will endure as we always have.”

  His next words captured my attention. “We don’t know for sure why this is happening. My attempts to find out who was involved with the Luvos Sunrise—who this mysterious hacker is who apparently aided their now-dead traitor prince—have been unsuccessful.” His gaze definitely lingered for a split second on Telu. “But we do know the royal Dracorte family is in political upheaval, which has resulted in one of the less offensive offspring ascending to the throne.”

  I was pretty sure we all made a sort of choking sound. Less offensive? Perhaps he didn’t understand Solara’s venom in that vid, or else…I was beginning to suspect that maybe he understood my sister all too well, because, like her, he could see the gain in other people’s suffering. Or, in his case, the benefit of risking nothing.

  That didn’t mean he wasn’t smart, but I didn’t have to like it, or him. At least he was keeping Telu’s involvement a secret. Probably only so he wouldn’t be implicated by association.

  “Is he your father’s younger brother?” I muttered to Telu, as Hiat let his words sink in.

  She nodded, her eyes fixed on her uncle with a combination of outrage and horror.

  “Interesting. Rubion was my father’s too.” The man who’d taken Arjan’s eye.

  “Maybe they’re predisposed to be dicks,” Telu grated back. But I got from her what I’d wanted to see—that spark, that sharpness.

  Basra flashed a grin, and Eton grunted, his mouth twitching in an attempt not to smile. I wasn’t sure how the latter felt about Hiat’s perspective, but at least there was that.

  Hiat cleared his throat and continued as the murmuring rose to a volume he deemed ripe for smothering. “Now, the Dracortes are putting new policies for Shadow fishing into place, ones that promise to change everything. Immediately after the broadcast, I reached out to Dracorte family authorities to learn the details of their proposal.” He paused, making sure he had everyone’s attention. I wasn’t surprised by what came next. “They intend to take a more active approach in dealing with us, but contrary to what some have said, they are not stopping us from fishing Shadow. Instead, they intend to supply us with freighters from which we can harvest Shadow, and a standardized rate for our catch.”

  This was a tactic that Solara had no doubt consciously employed: coming across as strong and decisive to both our system and the other families’, someone not to be crossed, while quietly appealing to select Alaxans with benevolent offers. Part of me hoped someone would see through it.

  “You mean we’re going to be their slaves, hey?” A wiry fellow, with black hair that came almost to his waist, materialized at another stump. “Or a bunch of loaders in their Shadow holds, at best! My name is Wul Uvnuk, and I don’t want to trade our Shadow for scat.”

  “This proposal involves neither slavery nor scat. We will be paid, and the intent is to prevent anyone’s overexposure to Shadow ever again,” Hiat countered smoothly. “Isn’t that what we want? Work, pay, and health for our families in the future?”

  “How in the frozen sea do they expect giant freighters to fish for Shadow?” The new speaker was a woman in her midthirties, her hair twisted into multiple short braids that stuck out in every direction. Streaks of purple had been dyed in the black, and the overall effect was more space pirate than a Shadow-fishing captain. More noticeable, both her legs ended at the knees. She rolled up to a stump on a wheeled conveyance that had obviously been reclaimed from some other use, and she did it with a confidence that hinted at years of practice.

  “My name is Jerra Uvthiak,” she continued, “and I would remind everyone that we have been one of the primary sources of Shadow for the Dracortes because we can fly where no one else dares.”

  Hiat was unperturbed. “The family claims that they can do as they say, and they certainly have the means. And, consider”—he spread his hands—“if they are wrong, they will need us regardless. If they are right, we will no longer be only an exotic commodity to the systems, but a critical one.”

  And so it went. Hiat was calm, reasoned, and persuasive. One by one, people approached the stumps, identifying themselves by name and place, filled with questions. Telu’s uncle answered them, gently correcting in some cases and encouraging in others. One by one, the objections died down, and the angry murmur of the crowd with it.

  And I began to relax. I knew I shouldn’t, and I felt a sting of shame along with relief. But if there was a chance, no matter how unappealing the means, that this didn’t have to come to an unwinnable fight, then it was the better option.

 
; Finally, Hiat placed both hands on the black surface before him, raising his voice. “As captain of one of the highest-producing operations on the planet, I have no more to gain than any of you, and much to lose.” I highly doubted either was the case. If he had been in touch with my sister’s representatives, which seemed likely, he’d been promised a lot for his support. “But we must be wise, ready to adapt to change, and unafraid of a new future. I call on everyone present to agree with my decision—that we send Queen Solara a statement of our cooperation in starting a new chapter between our peoples.”

  Telu’s breath hissed in between her teeth as she leaned in to whisper furiously at me. “If there’s no more disagreement with him at the stumps, it will go to a general vote. But probably no one wants to argue against those who’ve spoken so far, since the speakers all have popular support. Everyone will just give up everything we have because he won’t fight for it!”

  Basra leaned toward us and said in a low, steady murmur, “Having already shot Nev’s uncle in the face, I could continue the pattern here.”

  For an absurd moment, I wanted to laugh. But none of this was funny.

  “My name is Qole Uvgamut.” My head jerked up at the sound of her voice. It didn’t so much fill the space as roll over us, strong, devoid of uncertainty. “And you are making a terrible mistake.”

  Qole stood at the last remaining stump, her back ramrod straight. She was the youngest, by far, of everyone else in the circle, and she looked small in comparison to Hiat, standing directly across from her. She was staring right at him.

  I felt more dread than surprise. I’d hoped that if Qole hadn’t found the fishermen willing to fight, that she would back away. Regroup. Reassess the situation and realize it was impossible.

  I should have known better.

  Hiat smiled. “Only the young speak with such certainty. Come, is she really the representative for Gamut?”

  “I’m the one who approached the stump, aren’t I?”

  “It is not your place to speak when a question has been placed to the people,” Hiat admonished, and I grimaced. He’d obviously baited her in an effort to make her look inexperienced; I had seen a thousand meetings run by others using the same tactics.

  Qole flushed, glancing around. But then Arjan materialized behind her with crossed arms, and I noticed other familiar faces from the docks of Gamut. Telu shoved forward to stand with her, and several others from Gamut began to migrate in that direction. Eton and Basra stayed with me, and it was our silence that Qole needed in this case, anyway—even though I wanted to shout for her to stop.

  Quiet settled over the crowd. No one spoke to challenge Qole.

  “I,” she started again, her voice regaining strength. “I am Qole Uvgamut, also captain of one of the highest-producing fishing operations on the planet, and I oppose your decision on the following grounds.”

  “You might be a skilled captain, but what do you know of the systems?” Hiat shot back—and the struggle for who had the greater authority had begun. “Have you traveled to other planets as I have? Have you faced the—”

  “You will be quiet until I am done.” Pure fury simmered in Qole’s voice. Hiat swallowed, the words dying in his throat. Her anger alone would have sufficed to shut him up, but I wondered if blackness had crept into her eyes that I hadn’t spotted.

  “What I have experienced is hardly the question,” Qole continued. “We all know what we, the people of Alaxak, have experienced. Hundreds of years, generations upon generations of offworlders coming to us with promises of riches, of new wealth. If we only give up our ways and let them teach us theirs—promises that have, without a single exception, led to our suffering and loss.”

  I winced. Many nodded.

  “And now, it’s not even a matter of misplaced trust. This ‘deal’ is rotten on the surface, blatant thievery. This is not to our benefit. In the best light, Solara is stealing our birthright and letting us buy back into it as employees, under the guise of generosity. She is just one more queen in a long line of power-hungry rulers intent on taking what is ours simply because she has the force.” Qole pointed toward the high ceiling, and a shiver ran down my spine. She was working the crowd without even thinking about it. I could see it in their faces; they believed her. I believed her.

  “But even if we want to reject her terms, as you said, she has the power to force us,” Hiat said, still reasonable. “Why let it come to that? We are not the head of a mighty system. We do not have a navy.”

  “But we can fight. You were asking earlier who had embarrassed the royals and drawn their attention. Well, we did.”

  Qole had no sooner finished her sentence than Telu dropped her backpack and unzipped it. She reached inside, and a hologram flashed to life above us, overwhelmingly large. In a split instant, we were transported back to Luvos, on the Kaitan, diving toward the swarm of defending starfighters. Telu nearly cackled with glee as the stunned audience watched the video feeds that the ship’s monitors had recorded. Every face glowed in awe of the impossible flight Qole had taken us on. Drones, fighters, and the spires of the Dracorva citadel flashed around us in staccato succession, and then were gone.

  Qole didn’t give them a chance to react, to question. “They took us. They experimented on us.” She pointed behind her, and Arjan lifted his eye patch, eliciting gasps of outrage. His own expression was one of grim satisfaction. “They were going to kill us. And we fought back, and we won. By the ancestors, we won.”

  Neatly done. Qole had taken what could have been a liability, almost a scandal, and turned it to her rousing advantage in the space of a few seconds.

  “That was one ship. One crew. In their capital.” Qole let that sink in. “Now imagine what all of us can do. So yes, I do believe we can fight back. We must. That is why I challenge your decision, Hiat, with my own—the decision that the people of Alaxak should continue our way of life, and our method of trade, as we have always done.”

  I had grown up among the decision makers of the systems, and I knew a leader being born when I saw one.

  That didn’t mean this was good.

  Jerra smiled ferociously, her eyes glinting. “I support Captain Uvgamut. Remember, when there is a competing decision, Captain Uvmathun,” she said, using the same patronizing tone on Telu’s uncle that he’d just used with Qole, “the tradition is to give the people three days to deliberate before we all vote.”

  My heart started to pound, and I missed the ensuing conversation as I made my way through the crowd, unseeing, to escape into the night air beyond.

  * * *

  Unfamiliar with my surroundings, I simply set one foot in front of the other, trying to clear my head. The town was nearly deserted with everyone inside, and in a few moments, after I had walked only several blocks, the street abruptly stopped, dropping into the bay quietly lapping at my feet. The cloudy night had become pitch-black, but indistinct reflections and the metallic clank of ships resting in the water told me that the dock was nearby. No doubt Hiat had claimed one of these premium piers himself.

  I sat down on the ledge, looking out into the darkness, soaking in the night and hoping it would calm me down. I didn’t like anything that was about to happen, and in a twisted repeat of everything playing through my mind the past week, I didn’t see how I could be useful.

  “Don’t jump.”

  I started at the voice, turning to see Eton materializing out of the darkness. I must be really out of it if someone can sneak up on me like that.

  “Jump? No, but you almost scared me off the edge. You’re entirely too large to be so quiet anyway. Isn’t there a size limitation on sneaking or something?”

  Satisfaction glinted in his eyes. “So you’re still alive in there.”

  “Apparently so. If irritation means I’m alive, at any rate. What do you need?”

  “I saw you slip out, and I wondere
d what you were thinking.” Eton, his voice casual, walked up to the edge and stared out into the darkness as well, as though he could see beyond the harbor.

  “Just how much of your time do you spend watching me?”

  “Enough to make sure I’m doing my job.”

  I nodded. “Fair enough.”

  We listened to the water lap until I couldn’t take it any longer. “It’s impossible, you know,” I said, louder than I had intended.

  “No kidding,” Eton grunted, never looking at me.

  “Alaxak can’t fight my sister. It can’t fight the Dracorte military, and it’s important enough economically that my family won’t just give up on a rebellion. They’ll crush it.” I gathered a handful of dirt and flung it uselessly into the dark. “It’s going to be a slaughter. You were in the Academy; you know what I’m talking about.”

  Eton looked down at me, arms crossed. “So, what are our assets?”

  I blinked at him. He was using the kind of language you might use before a training exercise, and the familiar thought patterns awakened, as though jolted by an external charge.

  I shook my head. “Not many. Willing fighters, probably, which count for something, but only up to a point. Distance from Luvos, and maybe an alliance with or defection to another system, if there were time to arrange it, but there’s not, and honestly, I doubt the Belarius or Xiaolan families would cross the Dracortes like that, and if they did, that might open the door for the Treznor-Nirmanas to swoop in and corner the Shadow market. And no one else would want to fight my sister. Ugh.” I knuckled the ground just thinking about it.

  “You’re not an asset?” Eton raised his eyebrows. I knew he wasn’t trying to be friendly. He was wondering how I could be useful to Qole. Problem was, I couldn’t see how.

  I spread my hands. “That’s the best joke so far. They don’t need a Bladeguard; they need a fleet. I’ve got some money left, but I could literally be swimming in currency like Basra and it’s not like it would do any good because there isn’t any time.” I ran my fingers through my hair, clutching at it as I did. “I’m not bragging when I say I’ve been trained to fight difficult battles, but I wasn’t trained to be omnipotent. We need resources, a bargaining chip, something to buy time and find other options to keep our new queen from getting exactly what she wants.”