Voidfarer

by Sean McMullen

  It would be fair to say that he was disappointed with the interior. I explained how air was generated by the crystals in the porous bags, but when he heard that there was no heat weapon aboard, his interest flagged.

  "I see no fantastic machineries or mighty weapons," he commented. "Just two seats, and many, many racks of packages. Why there are not even windows. How did they see where they were going?"

  I thought it wise not to point out the weapon crystals, both of which were still locked into their frames.

  'There is a mechanism for allowing the crew to see outside," I explained. "It involves mirrors."

  "Mirrors? I see, just a cheap trick. But how can it fly between worlds without wings? I saw no wings."

  "There is no air between worlds, sire. It needs no wings, it just hurtles along like an arrow from a crossbow."

  "But your report mentioned wings."

  "They conjured etheric wings once in the air of our world, sire. They used these to glide down and land. The etheric wings were collapsed upon landing—"

  "Yes, yes, no mystery here, then. Just the sorts of things our sorcerers could do if we still had sorcerers."

  "In principle, sire, although the engineering and sorcery on Lupan is very advanced—"

  "Well can you take me for a flight in this, er, voidship? Nothing fancy, just a hundred miles up, to look at my realm with the eye of a bird, ha, ha."

  "With respect, sire, it was all that I could do to drag this thing onto a barge and bring it here on the river."

  'Then command one of the prisoners to fly it. They obey your instructions to move, after all."

  "Sire, I command them only with signs and gestures—"

  "Well bring them in here and make a few gestures!"

  "Sire, they could well abduct you to Lupan," I suggested, giving up on the effort of talking sense to him.

  "Oh! Yes, ha, ha, good point, that, yes indeed. Well then, we must have them tortured, to reveal their secrets."

  "We do not know their language, sire. We do not even know if they speak."

  "But dammitall, how do they talk?" the regent demanded.

  "I suspect that they share their thoughts directly, sire. A sufficiently senior sorcerer could—"

  "Alberin is a little short of sorcerers of any rank just now. What about a Metrologan, or a Skeptical? Sort of cold-science sorcerers, legal sorcerers, without magic, so to speak, ha, ha."

  "An excellent notion, sire. I did not think of that."

  "Quite so. Well, what to do? Can't have the riffraff learning that there are no fantastic secrets and mechanisms in here, can we? I shall proclaim that the Metrologans have been charged with discovering the secrets of this, er—"

  "Voidship, sire."

  "Quite so. I shall order a couple of Metrologans to sit in here for a few hours every day. Give the guise of working on its secrets, but bring a pair of dice and flagon of wine to pass the time, ha, ha. Damn boring place, I'm bored already. Don't know how the crew endured two dozen days in here—wait a moment!

  Those two chairs, they are for human forms. Octopus arses would never fit in there—they do have arses, don't they?"

  I had anticipated this. I gestured to the decking plates where the handling beasts had been tethered during the voyage.

  "Those harnesses back there are for the crew, sire."

  "Ah yes, but then why have chairs for humans?"

  I was concealing the fact that the Lupanians were shaped like us so that nobody would ask difficult questions about Azorian. Given the level of paranoia and stupidity currently abroad in Al-berin's corridors of power, the regent was just as likely to torture our only Lupanian ally merely for being an enemy national.

  "On our world we eat pickled octopus and squid," I explained. "I can only conclude that on their world it is animals

  shaped like us which are slaughtered and eaten. These seats were clearly for, ah, fresh meat during the voyage."

  "Oh I say, how barbaric! Well, I'm a busy man, and I've learned all there is to know here. I'll tell the guards to obey you and no other regarding access to the voidship. Get to the Metrologan Academy and round up a couple of scholars to spend the day in here. Under no circumstances are they to tell anyone that there is nothing to be learned."

  With that, the regent left. He had not absorbed the fact that the walls glowed of their own accord, or realized that the crystalline control mechanisms were all at the seats designed for beings shaped like us. The images of fantastically alien art and artistry that decorated the interior had somehow performed a brain bypass upon entering the regent's eyes. If the truth be known, he reminded me a little of my father, and a little more of my mother. XXX

  Outside the voidship again, I discovered that the crowds had been pushed farther back, and that the men of the regent's personal guard were arrayed before us in dress armor and uniforms. Commander Halland, Roval, Riellen, and the morris men were lined up in the summer sunlight, although the morris men looked a little worse for wear. Lavenci was there too, with her long hair pinned up and her mother standing behind her. I was ushered to the line. The regent presented both Halland and myself with a medal featuring his profile and ten star points. I was promised a promotion to inspector marshal rank, while Halland was given an appointment as reserve commander in the Alberin militia. The morris dancers were each given a gold crown, also featuring the regent's profile, and commanded to perform before the voidship for the crowds every day, at noon. Pelmore was condemned by the regent, who reaffirmed that any attack on the Wayfarers was an attack on himself. Because the regent's Acclamation Advisory Council was not geared up to cope with female heroes, Riellen and Lavenci were merely given medals with four star points and the regent's profile, and the promise of a five hundred florin dowry should they ever marry.

  "But not to each other, of course, ha ha," concluded the regent, and everyone other than Lavenci and Riellen laughed politely.

  I wondered where the additional florins promised by Wallengtor had gone. Wallengtor avoided my gaze.

  # # #

  The regent took his leave of us, and those who had matters to attend dispersed.

  "Now, about Pelmore," I began as Wallengtor approached me.

  "Oh the man is a scoundrel and deserves to die," he said, with a dismissive little wave of his hand.

  "That is a very quick change of heart, lordship."

  "Well, the regent has just honored you and condemned Pel-more, and the regent never makes mistakes."

  "I see. So what now?"

  "Oh, wander about and look heroic, but try not to get blind drunk in public."

  "I meant about the Lupanians?" "Ah, what about them?"

  "They are invading us. I would have thought that this means war."

  "Oh, not necessarily. The regent will brief and dispatch some diplomats and a hundred kavelars this afternoon. I'm sure some compromise can be arranged. The Lupanians might be persuaded to betray the Terrisians and ally themselves with us. Well, must go. I have to scribe up news of all this for the criers and noticeboards."

  Wallengtor bustled off. I went over to Halland, who had been standing within earshot.

  "Can you believe the man?" Halland said softly. "Barely twelve hours ago you and he fabricated that story of the Terrisians and Lupanians being in alliance, and now he believes it is true."

  "I am trying very hard not to think about it," I admitted. "What will you do now?"

  "Go to the Metrologan Academy and have a couple of academicians sent back to study the voidship. What are your plans?"

  "Both the baroness and my wife are at the palace. I imagine they will want to see me, now that I have been released from the dungeons and honored." "You sound reluctant to go."

  "Yesterday, before you arrived, they both put out rather strongly worded statements condemning me. Now it will be my fault that they put out the statements."

  "Why not follow my principle? When faced with an unpleasant duty, try to postpone it."

  Halland laughed. "
Do you mean down to some tavern for a pint?"

  "No, no, legitimate business. I have to relay the regent's orders to the elder of the Metrologans. Why not come along with me, then stay to give their people an extensive briefing."

  "You, sir, know the ways of command."

  I glanced in Riellen's direction. Something akin to nausea clutched at my stomach for a moment.

  "Commander, kindly inform Riellen that she is to follow me to the Metrologans, then to Wayfarer Headquarters," I said coldly.

  XXX

  Justiva, the Metrologan elder from Torea, met us at the academy and listened to my version of what the regent had ordered. She then summoned two students and dispatched them to the voidship. Seeing that the regent had not asked to see my journal, I now gave it to Justiva, for the Metrologan priests and academicians to study.

  "Ah, good," she said, riffling through it. "This will make a nice comparison with the transcripts of our other witness, an old, er, colleague of mine."

  "You have another witness?" I asked, surprised that anyone might have got to Alberin before us. "Can we meet him?"

  The other witness was summoned, and it was Norellie Witchway, who strode into the room some moments later. Exclamations and astonished exchanges established that she had been so impressed by Lavenci's calculations regarding the Lupanian heat weapon that she had packed a few of her most valued possessions into a ponycart and left Gatrov at dawn the following morning, only two or three hours before the Lupani-ans had attacked. She had looked back and seen the flames, smoke, and tripod towers in the distance.

  "This is wonderful!" said Halland eagerly as she finished. "We must compare observations."

  "I did feel sad to think that you two died with the town," she confessed to Halland and me.

  "Oh aye, and the commander certainly wept in the ruins of your house," I replied, playfully adding a little embroidery to the truth.

  "You did, Commander?" exclaimed Norellie. "For me?" There was one of those silences where everyone kept casting sidelong glances at each other, but not saying anything.

  "Perhaps your eyes were watering from the smoke?" suggested Elder Justiva at last.

  "Yes, yes, I'm sure that was it," agreed Halland.

  "It was very smoky," I agreed.

  "Were your eyes watering, Inspector?" asked Justiva.

  "Now that you mention it, no."

  "But my eyes are very sensitive," said Halland.

  "Ah, that must have been it," said Justiva.

  "There was a lot of smoke, I could see it from miles away," said Norellie.

  "It was probably something to do with the fires," I said with a wink at Halland. "I'd best be moving on. You are, of course, staying here, Commander?"

  "Er..."

  "I agree, you can do most good here."

  I took Norellie aside and made it quite clear that I wanted private words with her.

  "Lavenci needs you to lift the constancy glamour," I said in an urgent whisper.

  "I know, a lady named Madame Yvendel has already approached me about it," she replied. "I've tried, and I can't."

  "But you said—"

  "I know what I said! This time it did not work, none of my words of power could unlock it." "But—"

  "This glamour is like a padlock that has been designed to break after it has been used once. It cannot be unlocked."

  "Would you be so kind as to quiz Riellen on this?" I asked. "I presume you know that she cast the glamour?"

  "I was told as much by Lavenci, in great detail, and very loudly." We went to where Riellen was waiting, and Norellie asked her some quite complex questions about her methods of casting glamours.

  "I chanted in no keywords," explained Riellen guiltily. "I wanted Lady Lavenci locked away with Pelmore forever. Please tell the inspector—and Her Gracious Ladyship—that my sorrow exceeds—"

  "Madame Norellie, kindly tell Riellen to follow me to Wayfarer Headquarters," I interjected. "I have learned all that I need to." XXX

  Leaving Commander Halland to his fate, I continued on back to Wayfarer Headquarters with Riellen. We walked along the towpath beside the river, and with a move so casual that I almost missed it, she tossed a small, glittering thing about the size of her medal from the regent into the water. We exchanged no words whatsoever as we walked. It was early afternoon by the time we reached Wayfarer Headquarters, and the guard at the entrance said that I was to attend the directant at once. Leaving Riellen in the common room, I went to his office and was admitted without having to wait.

  The directant was one of those nobles who liked his work, and did that work out of a real sense of civic duty. He shunned the fine robes of other courtiers, and wore his crests on common Wayfarer marshal clothing. He was even said to spend time in the training yard every week. On the other hand, he demanded obedience to the crown, and I was not showing many signs of it.

  "I could not help but notice that your version of events is somewhat different from that on the public notice boards," he observed without bidding me to sit down.

  "My report is as close to the truth as I could manage," I replied.

  "Look, you did damn well, Inspector Danolarian, have no doubt of that. Sit down, man, sit down. Capturing the voidship and Lupanians, yet sparing time to rescue a noblewoman from some murdering peasant. Glorious, simply glorious."

  "Thank you, sir."

  'The trouble is Riellen."

  "Never was a truer word spoken, sir."

  "You describe her as, ah, and I quote: 'more flaky than a pastry shop after an earthquake.' You go on to describe how she has been poisoning you for three years."

  "Rendering me ill with headaches due to romantic infatuation, sir, rather than trying to actually kill me or commit mutiny."

  "Bad business, bad business indeed. Look, Inspector, I shall be honest. Not much of that to be seen these days, eh? The regent wants heroes, and because of you, we Wayfarers are heroes. I like that. This report on Riellen casts doubt about the level of professionalism in our ranks, however. If the citizenry of Greater Alberin see Riellen dishonored by us after being honored by the regent, well, the regent looks like a fool."

  "My report does not have to become public, sir."

  "Yes it does. The regent has ordered your official report made public. The trouble is that he has not read it. As it stands, the report would cause considerable embarrassment to the regent."

  I rubbed my face in my hands for some moments, considering my position. It seemed to be time for compromise.

  "I agree to rewrite my report, sir, but only on the condition that you accept a separate report on Constable Riellen's behavior regarding myself."

  "But that would affect your relationship with her as her immediate superior."

  "I shall not serve with her again, sir."

  He leaned forward, looking concerned and putting a hand to his ear.

  "I did not quite catch that, Inspector. I do hope it was a request and not a statement." "It was a statement, sir."

  He glared at me. I stared back calmly. The standoff lasted seventeen breaths, by my count. At last he sat back, folded his arms, and forced a smile.

  "Oh of course, I can deny you nothing. You have been proclaimed a hero by the regent, and to discipline you would make him look like a fool."

  "I'm sure that would make him awfully cross, sir."

  "Indeed. But just how long do you think you will remain in such high esteem?"

  "A week, sir?"

  "Less, much less. An hour after the three hundred sorcerers were being honored in a public parade, they were being burned alive. The same crowds were cheering both times."

  "If Pelmore Haftbrace can be hanged for murder, why should Riellen escape the penalty for her own crime?"

  "Pelmore, yes. I was about to mention him as well. A very senior Inquisitor wants your report rewritten to exonerate him."

  "What? The man is a murderer, cold-blooded and calculating. The gods alone know how many successful murders he has committed wi
thout being found out."

  "You could say that he mistook you and Lady Lavenci for sorcerers." • "I shall not—sir."

  "Inspector Danolarian, the inquisitor general is ... let us just say that he has influence. Influence over people with influence over me."

  "If you say so sir."

  "A very powerful lady has made a personal appeal to him on Pelmore's behalf."

  'The regent has already condemned him in public," I pointed out.

  "He has?"

  "The regent does not make mistakes," I said pointedly.

  "Damn you," whispered the directant, then he raised his eyebrows and reached for a quill. "Very well, then, you win. Pelmore dies, Riellen goes ... but so do you. Wayfarers must obey orders from above, because those above have an overview denied to minions like yourself."

  "Riellen assaulted me for three years, she broke discipline. Now you ask me to break discipline and ignore the rules?"

  "In matters of state, appearances are everything. In matters of the heart, appearances are everything."

  He pulled at a bellrope. Moments later Riellen was shown in. She saluted me, but otherwise gave the directant her full attention. She showed no emotion.

  "Constable Riellen, you must know what I have learned from Inspector Danolarian's report. You have acted disgracefully, shamefully. Like the inspector here, I have a great admiration for your sheer drive and spirit, but you have not only broken the law, you have done it too consistently to have your actions classified as a crime of passion. I count one hundred and fourteen offenses, totaling five thousand seven hundred lashes. You are not under sentence of death, but such a punishment will certainly kill you. Exile is another possibility. Inspector Danolarian, what would you do, if in my position?"

  "Your judgment is sure to be better than mine, Directant," I replied. "You are in a position of higher authority, and thus have a better view of the overall picture."

  The slightest flicker of a scowl crossed his face.

  "Would that all of my Wayfarers had your sense of deference to authority, Inspector. Constable Riellen, hear my sentence. You will remain in Alberin for precisely four weeks, on light duties and playing the part of a modest hero. After that, you will be rewarded with a very unpleasant diplomatic posting overseas. This posting will last for as long as you remain alive. Dismissed."