by AM Scott
“It’s important because I think she left a sample of what you need in her rooms, in a shielded box. Unfortunately, that sample is now buried, right?”
Lashtar snorted. “I knew that decision would bite me in the ass. Blast it all to black hole. Yes, she lived in a small, interior room—it was really a closet. Trena felt safer in a small, enclosed area because of all her time underground. Did you find this in her journal?”
The shuttle hatch annunciator buzzed while Lashtar was talking. Ruhger checked the vid and let her and another Sister he didn’t recognize in. Lashtar strapped herself into the co-pilot’s seat without comment to him, while the other Sister strapped into one of the observer seats.
“Yes. By researching her background, I found several possible key phrases and added them to the pattern-finding app. I haven’t read everything yet, but Sister Trena does mention her find and bringing a sample back. She also mentions how reluctant she is to share that find, because everything will change and she’s tired of change. She seems to struggle with this dichotomy a lot. Sister Trena left a description of where she found the sample, but it’s not a set of coordinates. There are coordinates for the entrance she used and descriptions of the markings she left to mark her way, but since it was deep underground, she had no way to leave coordinates of the actual find. Someone would have to trace the route with sophisticated mapping tools to get good coordinates. And if you want to approach the Sa’sa, you’ll need to either follow her tracks or retrieve her sample from the ruins, neither of which will be easy. I’m sending a copy of the translated journal to you.”
“Thank you, Scholar. That’s incredibly generous of you. Once again, I’m in your debt.”
“That’s okay, Sister Lashtar. I’m just paying it forward.”
“Still, we couldn’t, so thank you.” Sister Lashtar laughed, with an evil tone. “Oh, I just figured out who’s going to read the decoded journal. I think that is a perfect task for the Penitent Ferra.” She continued to chuckle.
Ruhger was about to compliment her sense of justice when the Scholar spoke again. “Ah, the Sisters have arrived. I’ll be ready as soon as they strap in.”
Ruhger said, “Copy that, Scholar. We’re ready when you are.” The Scholar certainly had interesting net capabilities and applications. Why would she have such sophisticated pattern matching software? Or cypher-breaking software? And who created it? Her ‘friend,’ the net genius? And how did she find so much out about Sister Trena? Sure, she was a researcher, but it seemed unusual. Gliese net couldn’t have that much information on her. Or did the Scholar routinely carry a much more complete data set because of her research? Perhaps some of her rather large shuttle was filled with data banks.
The Scholar interrupted his musings. “Fortuna Lucia is ready. We’ll execute your course on your mark.”
Ruhger released Alpha shuttle from Lightwave and pushed back, proceeding to his re-entry point. He noted Tyron released and pushed the Scholar away thirty seconds after he left. Perfect. He initiated his thrust, waited thirty seconds, and said, “Scholar, initiate launch at will.”
She said, “Launch initiated, mark.”
They blasted for the planet’s surface. The sooner they got this done and over with, the better.
Chapter 12
Saree sagged against the cold cerimetal of her shuttle hatch, shuddering slightly as the cold penetrated her sweaty clothes. That was a grim task. It was hard to tell under all the dirt, especially with the additional damage from being dragged, but the girls’ deaths probably hadn’t been easy ones. She’d have nightmares for sure. Thank the egg of Zarar she wasn’t the one who had to deal with the bodies. She pushed off the hatch and headed for the sanitation mod.
“Are you okay, Saree?”
His worried tone brought a small smile to her face, but she couldn’t sustain it. “I’m all right, Hal. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but it was important. Those poor girls.”
“I don’t understand why it was important, but I will take your word for it. Are you going to eat now? You must, or you will not function optimally.”
She laughed a little and kept pulling clothes off. “Just as soon as I shower, Hal. Oh. Wait. Do I still have water-shower privileges?”
“Yes, Saree, you do. Lightwave requests careful water usage, but it’s not restricted. Not yet. I believe it will be by the time we reach Cygnus-Secundus. Even with recycling and filtering, there is some loss, and the longer we remain here, waiting, the more they will use.”
She stepped into the shower, using the sonics first to scrub up. Then she turned on the water, luxuriating in the cascade of heated liquid around her for a few minutes... “True. I guess they can make a water run with one of the shuttles, but every trip to the planet increases the risks.”
“Yes. If Cygnus-Prime sends help, tomorrow is the earliest arrival time. Since it is unlikely they will make a decision that quickly, it will probably be at least two days before anyone arrives. It is also all too likely that the first fold transports will be opportunists and Prime’s security forces. There is no guarantee of Cygnus-Secundus or Prime welcoming any of these people.”
Saree made it fast, but she thoroughly enjoyed the slide of hot water over her skin. She reluctantly turned the water off and the dryers on, turning and shifting in the heated air jets. “Yes, I know. This whole situation is tragic,” she said, projecting over the blasting air. “At least some people will get away and survive. If I’d known about the Inquisitors, though, I wouldn’t have maintained the clock.” Hal told her Gliese’s clock had switched over to the newly maintained clock pair during one of the evacuation runs, right at the programmed time.
“It’s more important the rescuers get here safely, Saree. If we stay until all the residents are gone, we could switch it back to the bad one. But we need to leave long before that.”
She nodded. “I know. And it’s not worth the risk of going back to the clock. As it is, I’m in orbit while it switched over.”
“But you won’t be in Secundus or Prime when they switch, and you were on a run to the planet’s surface when Gliese switched. It’s a very good cover, as long as no one realizes the clocks can be pre-programmed. Someone will figure it out eventually, but there will be a lot of speculation about Sa’sa folder capabilities.”
Saree chuckled. “You’re right there.” She faked a deliberately speculative look, mimicking one of the core gossip vid hosts. “Do the Sa’sa have stealth folders? Can they cloak their presence? Maybe there are wormholes built right into the clocks! Where else could they go? Our very homes?!”
An odd rumbling sounded. Hal said, “I cannot get the sound of laughter correct. This is so annoying.”
Saree laughed harder, the sound muffled by the robes she dragged over her head. “Thanks, Hal. I needed that. Why don’t you record the laughter of all the men on Lightwave—only in public spaces, Hal—and a few of the lower-voiced women, then we’ll work on mixing them into something more tolerable during the trip to Secundus? It will keep us busy for a while.”
“That is a good idea. Thank you, Saree.”
“You’re welcome, Hal. I’m going to get some food if the kitchen is open.”
“Yes, the kitchen is open. It is toward the end of service, but I believe you will find Captain Ruhger there as well.”
Saree smiled involuntarily at the thought. “Thank you, Hal. Let me know if there’s any problems.”
“Of course, Saree. Enjoy your dinner.”
“Thank you, Hal.”
“You are welcome, Saree.”
She worked through the security protocols, opening and closing each hatch carefully. With all these strangers on board, she took security and safety protocols even more seriously. Hal kept everything secure, but there was no sense in taking chances. Stepping into Lightwave, she stopped and stared. There were people everywhere, and while the voices were all human, the din of a hundred different conversations and the crowds reminded her of living in Ia’asan clutch. She h
eld back a shudder and worked her way carefully through all the people and their belongings to the dining hall. Even the passageways were festooned with colorful bedding and bags on one wall.
Entering the dining hall, she stopped dead, gazing dumbfounded at the changes. The rich, dark mahogany paneling with warm, sandy walls above the chair rail remained, along with the delicious scents, but everything else? Radically changed. Large gray plas storage containers, stacked to the overhead, hid the outer perimeter of the dining hall, probably full of food from the planet. Long, high tables with cutting boards and big pots stood in front of the plas containers, ready for food preparation. The buffet was still there, but it was pulled away from the wall, girls in white aprons standing behind it. Which made sense; they had to ration food carefully. The remaining dining tables were configured in long rows, with stools crowded in among the chairs to maximize the seating capacity. Did they have dining shifts set? Because even with all the seating, there wasn’t enough room for everyone.
Saree walked to the buffet and the girl wordlessly dished her some food. Saree discreetly sniffed the air—the wonderful aroma hadn’t changed. Whatever the dish was, it smelled delicious. She looked down at the bowl. Some sort of mashed tuber with a stew on top. She smiled at the girl, who blushed and looked away.
“Cary, come join us!” Loreli called from the end of a long table.
She smiled at Chef Loreli and Captain Ruhger. Both of them looked like they needed a smiling face, along with eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Dark circles under heavy eyes and fatigue lines made them both look older and exhausted. Even Loreli’s heavy makeup couldn’t hide her exhaustion, and the Captain’s was far more pronounced. Loreli motioned to the girl behind the buffet, who came over, her face flaming red.
“Dear, this is Scholar Sessan. Remember, crew members, the Scholar and the Al-Kindis get seconds if they want them. No one else. Please dish seconds for Captain Ruhger.”
“Yes, Chef.” The girl took the Captain’s bowl and trotted back to the buffet, filling it and bringing it back.
“Loreli, you don’t need to do that,” Ruhger said quietly. “We can supplement with protein bars.”
She shook her head. “Nonsense. If you get here and they’re scraping the bottom of the bowl, that’s one thing. But there’s plenty there. It’s just going into tomorrow’s stew if you don’t eat it today. And you need to keep your strength up; the rest of these people don’t.”
Ruhger frowned at her. “That goes for you too, Loreli.”
She batted her eyelashes, long silver ones today, at the Captain, trying for her normal carefree, flirty attitude, but fatigue got in the way. Loreli flipped a hand. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m eating enough. I know how important I am. It’s my job to keep everyone healthy and happy.” Her mouth twisted. “Or if not happy, at least satisfied.”
“Complaints already, Chef?” Saree asked.
She shook her head sharply. “Not yet. Most of these people are used to less and worse. But they’re also used to working hard, so eating minimal rations and just sitting around will be a challenge. The Sisters are inventorying talents—they plan to broadcast classes on all kinds of subjects—and kids will have school. There will be vids, music and storytelling.” Loreli shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll ask for your help, oh Scholar of Music—and anything else they can think of—but still, keeping people occupied will become an issue.” She shook her head. “Even with all the cleaning chores, people will get bored. Some will create trouble. And with all these children? Mischief is certain.”
“I heard some talk of having timed races around the passageway—timed, because if they had people competing against each other, someone would get trampled. The kids are already racing around them. They’ve posted quiet hours,” Captain Ruhger said with a tiny smile.
Loreli leaned in farther. “The thing I’m most worried about is water. The longer we stay here, the more we use. If we’re really going to wait for someone else to arrive, we’d be smart to do a resupply, preferably just before we leave.”
The Captain nodded in agreement, his lips compressing and deepening his lines of fatigue. “I hope the first folders are from the authorities on Secundus or Deneb. I thought we might get a message today, but we didn’t, so we’ve probably got another twelve hours to wait unless someone in authority forces an emergency message through.” Ruhger huffed out between gritted teeth and glowered. “At this point, we’ll wait. But at some not-too-distant-future, we’ll have to go, regardless of messages or folders.” He stood and looked down at them. “Have a good evening, ladies.”
“You too, Captain,” Saree said, Loreli echoing her.
“Cary, do you want seconds?” Loreli asked.
She smiled and shook her head. “No, thank you. It was very good, but more than enough for me.”
“Well, on that note, I’m going to make sure the girls get everything cleaned up properly, then go to bed. I’m exhausted.” Loreli levered herself to her feet and walked toward the buffet. “At least now I’ve got some of the Sisters trained to run and secure the kitchen and dining area, so I should get a full night’s rest.”
Saree followed her over, putting her dishes in the auto-washer. “I’m glad. No offense, but you look like you could use some sleep.”
Loreli beamed at her. “Oh, yes, darling, I know what I look like! A total harridan, a hot mess. But tomorrow will be better.”
Saree laughed. “Hardly that. But to a better day tomorrow, I’ll agree. I’ll see you later, Loreli.”
“Yes, tomorrow.” Loreli sashayed toward the kitchen hatch.
Saree left the dining hall and wove her way through the people, peeking in the various rooms and marveling at the arrangements they’d made to house everyone. In the phys mod and the observation lounge, colorful cloth hammocks lined the walls five high, with ladders of climbing holds, knotted rope, cerimetal steps and all kinds of other materials separating the rows and allowing access. Bags hung off one end of each hammock, probably the occupant’s clothing. Bedding was laid in neat rows across the floors for the elderly and the very young, leaving a few narrow walkways. Overall, the dizzying array of colors and materials left the impression of a catastrophic clothing factory explosion.
Small groups of girls stood in the passageways, all of them chattering away. When they noticed Saree, they quieted and bowed, moving out of her way with smiles, then reforming into noisy pods. She was a shark swimming through schools of fish. Saree hoped they’d keep the enthusiasm, but she suspected inactivity would wear on all of them.
Hal told her the gravely injured were in the extra crew quarters and one of the smaller cargo holds, and the other Havenites spread among the remaining holds. The townspeople included some teenage boys; interaction between the sexes was guaranteed. With every nook and cranny filled, privacy would be hard to find; hopefully, unintended consequences could be avoided. Saree doubted anti-fertility implants were available on Gliese.
Entering her shuttle, Saree sighed with pleasure and relief at the silence. And the lack of people. She’d be spending a lot of time here in her shuttle during the fold lane transit; the press of bodies and noise of chattering girls was overwhelming.
“Saree, I’m still filtering and filing the irrelevant messages from the surface, but you have a message from Nari Al-Kindi. She would like to share a meal with you sometime in the next day, to ‘catch up’ as she phrases it. Shall I reply?”
“No, I’ll comm her. Thank you, Hal.”
“You are welcome, Saree. Would you like me to connect you now?”
“Yes, please.” Saree made her way to the pilot’s chair and plopped down, the air whooshing from the worn cushion in comforting normality.
Nari’s smiling face appeared. “Cary! How are you? We tracked your trip today. You are very brave.”
“Or foolhardy,” Al-Kindi’s voice said from off screen.
Nari turned and frowned at her husband, then turned back to her.
Saree laughed mi
rthlessly. “Oh, I think both descriptions are equally correct. Or incorrect. Certainly there was a chance we could be attacked by the Inquisitors, but no one believed their act was provocative; it was more a ‘now there’s no excuse to bother us’ kind of message.” She shuddered a little. “A horrible and coldblooded message, but still a message.”
Nari also looked grim, an unaccustomed expression sitting oddly on her face. “But it was an important task. The Sisters and families deserve closure.”
Saree nodded. “That’s why I did it. But let’s talk of more pleasant things. Shall we meet for lunch tomorrow?”
Nari smiled again, but it seemed forced. “Of course. But where? Have you seen the crowds in Lightwave? The lines are long and finding a seat is difficult.”
“Why don’t we pick up lunch to go, then come back to my shuttle?” Saree half-turned and swept an arm behind her. “I have a table, and after the evacuations I cleaned and put everything away, so I have plenty of room. Probably far more than you do, since you mentioned having a lot of equipment on board.”
Nari looked surprised and pleased. “What a lovely invitation. Rather than you coming out, why don’t we pick up lunch to go for the three of us, then we’ll bring it to your shuttle.”
“Are you sure you want me present for this lunch, Nari?” Al-Kindi asked, his voice slightly muffled.
Saree answered before Nari could ask. “You are certainly welcome to join us. I can’t promise the conversation will be entirely to your liking, but you have to eat someplace.”
Al-Kindi’s face appeared behind Nari’s shoulder. “Very well. Thank you, Scholar. I accept. I would escort Nari regardless; I do not feel comfortable leaving her alone with all these unknown people.” He smiled suddenly. “And if your conversation drives me away, I will leave you to it and return to work. I can come back and pick Nari up later. Probably with dinner in hand.” He moved out of the vid’s view.
