His speech was measured. He did not speak without meaning every single word. He wasn’t going to commandeer anything, though he dearly wanted these things, that was clear.
Jane wanted to ask more questions but she was loath to appear stupid. She considered carefully what to say. “We do have power cells and can spare some of them. Do you have the ability to maintain them? Otherwise it would seem to me to be a short-term solution to your problem.”
“You’re quite right. There is a prohibition against squillae manufacture by general consensus because of the plague, so we are unable to rehabilitate spent cells. But we are still moving forward. We are now in a preindustrial state. We need the power cells to build defenses around a mine so that we can harvest primitive fuels from beneath the surface. That will be more sustainable in the short term, if imprudent in the long term. Our main concerns are safe transportation to salvage materials to build the enclosure and to traverse the distance to the mines. It was a salvaging team using some of our last remaining functional power cells that happened upon you in that tree.”
Jane moistened her lips. “I see.” An implication of something that was owed.
He twirled the shears in the air with his long, thin fingers and glanced at Jane. “You should know that there are those on the council who called for your execution and the usurpation of all of your possessions.”
A poorly veiled threat. Internally, Jane blanched. She hoped that hadn’t shown on her face.
She stood as Sectilius culture demanded, ignoring the pain shooting through her joints and the fatigue weighing her down. She stated flatly, “I’m worth more to you alive than dead, Gis’dux.”
He didn’t look up. He muttered, “That remains to be seen.”
She continued to stand, to give gravitas to her next statement. “I have the ability to renew some of your fuel cells so that they will take a charge again and hold thousands of charges for future use—but I will only do so if our very modest needs are met.”
Pledor put down the shears slowly and eased off his stool to face her. For the first time his expression showed a hint of emotion. Eagerness. His eyes bored into hers with an almost hawklike intensity.
Jane stayed motionless, staring back impassively.
His voice came out breathless. “Process thirty units to prove your assertion and I will grant you everything you wish.”
Jane dipped her head. “I will need access to my shuttle and my entire team.”
His eyes flicked over her. He knew the engines were gone. They weren’t going anywhere. “Of course. But perhaps a brief rest and a meal are in order, Qua’dux? I regret that we could not offer you the use of a sanalabrium in your time of need. You understand we cannot spare the use of a power cell unless it is a matter of great urgency.”
A reminder that she was worthless until she proved herself to him.
Her eyes narrowed. His body language seemed to be saying that he was about to dismiss her, despite the fact that there were so many issues left unresolved between them. She guessed he didn’t want to waste the time in case she turned out to be a fraud.
“It is of little consequence,” she replied. “I am quite well enough.” It was a lie, but he wouldn’t call her on it. He’d just offered her time to nap and eat. He knew she was ill.
Pledor resumed clipping away at his plant, his whole body moving in a jerky motion that made Jane think of a crow.
Jane leaned against the stool to allow the air to cool and clear a bit. Her eyes felt scratchy and she was breathing harder than she should have been. After a few quiet moments, she said, “If you don’t mind, I will retire now and take my medical master with me?”
He looked up as though he’d just remembered Ajaya was still there. He waved the shears in the direction of the room’s great door. “Of course. I’ll send someone with a cart of thirty power cells to assist you in a few hours, Qua’dux.”
Jane walked away without looking back, making her legs and feet glide over the floor as best she could. She hadn’t gone far when sweat broke out on her upper lip and scalp.
She heard Ajaya tread quickly to catch up with her. Jane didn’t acknowledge Ajaya’s presence until she was certain they’d gone far enough to be out of sight. Then she turned welling eyes on Ajaya’s concerned face.
Ajaya wrapped an arm around her shoulder without a word and helped her to the door. On the other side, Master Schlewan waited with a wheeled chair. Jane fell into it and closed her eyes, too tired to even speak. By the time they reached the medical chambers, she was ready to collapse in the bed and retreat to the oblivion of sleep.
15
Alan stood with his hand kneading the back of his neck, frowning. The four of them had tromped down to the basement of the building where the atellans had towed their beat-up shuttle. Now they were hanging out inside the shuttle, refurbishing Sectilius batteries, while their atellan escorts remained just outside. Jane was telling them about her meeting with a Geezer-Dux, or something—the local leader.
Alan was pretty skeptical about all of these doings, especially since Jane looked like death warmed over. The Sectilius were supposed to be superior technologically, but they’d fallen backward into a preindustrial state, except for a few remaining power cells that they used sparingly. That sounded fishy and he said so.
Jane sighed. Then she admitted, “I don’t fully understand it either. I think it’s really complex. They were very nearly wiped out by the squillae plague. That’s got to take a toll on nearly every aspect of society. They no longer trust technology in a lot of ways, which makes sense, though they seem to crave that old way of life. They also lost an entire generation of their great thinkers—engineers, architects, mathematicians, philosophers, artists—and they lost all ability to communicate over distance, which is hampering the rebuilding process. There appears to be a huge gap between how they want to live and how they can live. I suspect we’ll find out more when we prove we can do what I said we can do.”
Alan switched one power cell out for another. They could do it. Then what?
Ron cleared his throat, and his eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, I think some of the sisters around here are looking for some…ah…” He chuckled, then went on, “…fresh genes, if you know what I mean.”
Jane’s eyebrows drew together.
Ajaya’s grabbed Ron’s shoulder. “Ronald Samuel Gibbs—are you telling us they’ve propositioned you?”
Alan let out a barking laugh. “You too? Wow. That’s awesome, dude.” He high-fived Ron.
Ajaya suddenly looked cross and glanced from Ron to Alan and back again. “Do you mean to tell us that you took them up on their offers?”
Ron held up his hands. “Not me! I didn’t touch anyone!”
Alan continued to snicker at Ron’s expression until he noticed Jane’s gaze boring into him. “Me either! They’re handsy—that’s all! I can’t understand a word they’re saying, but they keep sneaking up on me and going straight for the good stuff!”
“Inbreeding could be a problem in each enclave if they haven’t made any attempt to prevent it,” Ajaya mused.
“I don’t have any idea.” Jane flipped a lever on one of the seats in the rear row to turn it around so she could sit, like that was the last straw and she was giving in to exhaustion.
That immediately cut any amusement Alan was feeling to shreds. He was worried about her. She already had a tendency to work too hard. Now it was visibly showing. She couldn’t hide it. He didn’t like that one bit. Alan checked the progress of the power cell in the refurbishing compartment and returned to more serious conversation. “Given what you just said, how do you think they’ll feel about the fact that we used nanites to rebuild these?”
Jane frowned. “He has to know. I think he wants the power cells so badly that he’s turning a blind eye to that fact.”
Alan pressed on. “What if he thinks we’re using some human tech that isn’t nanite related? He doesn’t know anything about us or our level of technology. They might
think we could be superior in that department. Will this come back to bite us in the ass?”
Jane blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She let out a breath. “Well, you’ve programmed the nanites to stay put now, yes? None of them will have left our bodies or the shuttle. There won’t be any on the power cells when we give them back. There won’t be any evidence of how the batteries were reconditioned.”
Ajaya said, “If it’s our only bargaining chip, we don’t have a choice. We’re marooned here.”
Ron put an arm around Ajaya. “We should move on as fast as we can. I get a weird vibe from this place.”
Alan leaned against the wall. “So we’ve heard from one local leader that no one wants the ship and/or the Squid back. Our first priority should be finding the engines. Assuming all the preservation features worked during the drop, at least one of them will be repairable. It’s going to be a big job, though.”
Jane nodded. “Agreed. We’ve got a tracking system. Once we’ve given them the refurbished power cells, I’ll ask for ground transportation to find the engines.”
Ron looked at each of them in turn. “Then what?”
“While you and Alan are working on the engines, I’ll visit the Hator enclave, briefly. There, I’ll get another opinion about the ship. If Rageth’s descendants are of the same opinion without prompting, I’ll believe it’s true. We’ll return to the Speroancora.”
Alan couldn’t help himself. He had to know what was next on her agenda. “And then—?”
“The Sectilius aren’t in a position to do the right thing, so we’ll have to do it for them. We’ll go looking for stranded Kubodera. To save them. Get them back to their home world, at least, so they don’t have to die out there, separate and alone. I feel that we owe that to Ei’Brai.”
Ajaya nodded as if that was the most logical thing to do. “We could use some additional crew members.”
Jane looked pensive. “I agree, but I get the feeling that Gis’dux Sten won’t want to spare even a single individual. From the conversations I’ve overheard, the goal of everyone in the enclave is reproduction and education—essentially rebuilding what was lost. They are very focused.”
The shuttle’s interior went quiet. Everyone seemed to be lost in thought. Their projected future had just changed drastically. Honestly, he liked this new mission a lot better.
Ajaya cleared her throat. “Commander, while we are here, will you please consider utilizing the triage compartment? It may improve your health and will at least give me a better assessment of your condition.”
Jane cast her eyes down. Her jaw clenched. Quietly, she said, “Yes, I think I’d better.”
16
Jane looked out the window of the primitive carriage she occupied. For the first time since they’d arrived, she could see Sectilia beyond the rushing gray clouds. It dominated the sky. It looked very much like home except for the unfamiliar shapes of the continents. She wondered what life was like there. Certainly it was very different from life on Atielle.
She’d given Gis’dux Sten thirty functional power cells a few days prior, and yet, after it was confirmed they all held a charge, he wouldn’t spare one for her to use in a ground car, so they were forced to journey overland the old-fashioned way, Sectilius style. It was frustrating because they were moving at about the same speed a human would leisurely walk at, and she was anxious to get there, especially after waiting to travel for a few dark days while Atielle was in Sectilia’s shadow.
It was hot. The air was heavy with moisture. It added to her discomfort. Bumping along in a primitive carriage was painful on her tender joints. Her overall health was much better, but she wasn’t fully recovered yet and she was certain Pledor knew that. She couldn’t imagine why Pledor had insisted on this method of conveyance except as another way to test her, to push her to her limits and to remind her that he really didn’t care about her or her mission.
Tinor was acting as Jane’s companion for the journey, which was another odd choice, Jane felt. The child was ecstatic about leaving the enclave for the first time. Pledor had also assigned a few adults, but they were positioned in front of, and on top of, the carriage—or serving as outriders.
The beasts of burden pulling the conveyance were an animal that looked very much like a cross between a rhinoceros and a hippopotamus. They were enormous. Jane couldn’t even begin to imagine how much they must weigh or what it must take to keep them fed.
When questioned, Tinor said there were two reasons why the suesupus, literally translated as working pig, were domesticated. First, their tough hides were impervious to nepatrox stingers. They were also instinctual enemies of the nepatrox and would do fierce battle to keep their sectilian caretakers from being hurt. As a result, the nepatrox tended to shy away from them and leave such a procession alone. The second reason was that they were hardy in many environments. They had no trouble pulling a wagon through bogs or over rough terrain, both of which were common on Atielle.
Jane noticed that, compared to the adults, who tended to be more reticent, Tinor was free with sharing information, probably due to the fact that the youth was at a transitional life stage between childhood, when curiosity was tolerated, and adulthood, when it was actively discouraged as being rude.
It sounded mercenary even in her own mind, but Jane would probably get a lot more information from Tinor than from any adult she could try to question. As Jane conversed with the child, she was careful to use the gender-neutral pronouns reserved for sectilian children who had not yet declared their gender: iad in place of he/she as the subject of a sentence, ium instead of him/her as the object, ius for his/her as the possessive determiner, and so on.
It was fortunate that Tinor had already gained fluency in Mensententia, though iad was at only the very earliest stages of puberty. They’d been underway for over several hours when a driving rain began to fall that would muffle the sounds of their voices. Jane didn’t want Tinor to feel self-conscious because adults were listening.
Jane turned away from the window and waved at Tinor to get the child’s attention. “Tinor, I would like to apologize in advance if I ask you anything that makes you uncomfortable. You must tell me, plainly, if that’s the case. As an outsider, I cannot always know what is acceptable in your culture. Do you understand?”
Tinor brightened. “Oh, yes. Master Schlewan told me that I should treat you like another child in need of education. Of course, that does seem odd because you are a Qua’dux, but you are not of these worlds and I imagine your world is very different. Will you tell me about it?”
“Of course I will. But first, can you tell me, do your people know who caused the squillae plague?”
Tinor frowned. “That was long before my birth. We learned about it in school.”
“I know. But someone caused it. Someone programmed the squillae to hurt the Sectilius. Do your people know who did it?”
The child looked confused, as though it had never occurred to ium to ask that question. “It is done. It cannot be undone.”
“No, it cannot.” Jane paused, thinking how to rephrase in a way that Tinor could understand. “Do the adults in the Sten compound have punishments for children who’ve been naughty?”
Tinor’s eyes widened. “Oh, yes. They punish us by taking away our favorite pastimes. We learn and do not repeat these mistakes.” The child’s mouth twitched. “Mostly.”
Jane nodded. “So, no one has sought to punish the person who did this to the Sectilius?”
“How could they? We’ve been quarantined by the Unified Sentient Races. They destroyed the plague before everyone died, but their methods left us technologically crippled.”
That spoke volumes. The Sectilius believed the squillae plague had originated from somewhere outside their solar system. The child had probably inferred that just as Jane had. As to who would gain from setting the plague in motion, Jane sensed that was beyond Tinor’s grasp, so she wouldn’t trouble the child further by asking that question.
Tinor had pulled out a toy composed of a chain of six flat bricks connected by ribbons that twined around each brick in a pattern. As the youth tilted a hand one way and then the other, the bricks seemed to topple down the chain. It was mesmerizing, but Jane quickly realized that Tinor never let loose of the top brick. It was an optical illusion. Jane had never seen a toy like it on Earth.
Jane pointed at the toy. “What’s this called?”
Tinor didn’t look up. “Atielle’s Ladder. It’s named for the way my people used to get to Sectilia. One day we will get there again. Master Schlewan thinks it will be in my lifetime.”
Jane’s heart skipped a beat and one of Rageth’s memories suddenly hit her hard enough to make her gasp. The atellans had a space elevator. If that was still operational, it would solve the problem of returning to the ship without having to fly through the debris field, though they’d need at least one functional engine.
Tinor peered at her curiously.
Jane smiled at the look on the small face. She adjusted her seat, though there was no way to get actually comfortable. “Does anyone ever think about the Kubodera?”
The child’s face scrunched up. “Ship navigators? Not really. I mean, just in school. They come from a secret planet. No one here knows where that is.”
“Do you think they survived the plague?”
Confluence 2: Remanence Page 10
