"So," Festina went on, "members of the High Council have a strong incentive to ensure that Celestian business stays profitable. Lately, the biggest profits have been coming from…"
She looked at me as if she was sure I could finish the sentence. "From recruiting Mandasars?" I guessed.
"That’s right," she nodded. "Cheap blue-collar workers, brilliant white-collar workers, and fanatic security guards to keep everybody in line."
"So the High Council is on the recruiters’ side?" I asked, outraged.
"The recruiters put money in the High Council’s pockets, but I doubt if they’re backed by the council as a whole. My guess is the recruiters are sponsored by a single admiral."
"Who?"
"I don’t know," Festina replied. "But it’s someone who’s decided to equip the recruiters with navy gear."
"That’s awful!" I said.
"Business as usual for High Council admirals," she sighed. "But that’s not the worst part." I didn’t want to hear the worst part. But I swallowed and said, "Tell me."
She didn’t speak for a moment; she was staring up at the stars over her head. "There it is," she said suddenly. "See that constellation that looks like a big X? Second star from the middle on the upper right arm — that’s Troyen’s sun."
I looked up quickly. The X was easy enough to see; but the star she’d pointed out was nothing special. Somehow I thought it should be brighter than any other object in the sky, not an ordinary little pinpoint like everything else. I lay on my back beside Festina to get a better look.
"Edward," she said softly, "why did someone order Willow to transport a queen from Troyen to Celestia?"
"I don’t know." My voice sounded distant in my own ears; I was staring up at the star, wanting to feel some connection with it. That was Troyen. The closest thing I had to a home. But my heart didn’t beat a millisecond faster. Nothing.
"It’s getting harder for the recruiters to find more victims," Festina murmured. Her voice was quiet, right there on the ground beside me. "Mandasar communities like this one have organized for their own protection: militias, sentry patrols, security systems. And the Mandasars are starting to find sympathetic ears among humans and other races on Celestia: people who will lobby politicians or raise a stink in the media. So the recruiter press gangs have found it harder and harder to meet their quotas."
She lifted up on one elbow and looked down at me. "Now think, Edward. How would that change if the recruiters had a queen on their side?"
"You mean… Willow was bringing the queen to help the recruiters?"
"Willow was following orders from someone in the High Council — no one else would dare send a ship to a planet that’s having a war. And someone in the High Council is probably channeling navy equipment to the recruiters. Odds are it’s the same person."
I thought about that a second. "If this bad admiral gave orders to Willow, wouldn’t there be records or something? I mean, if it’s an official order…"
My voice trailed off as Festina shook her head. "Sorry, Edward," she told me. "Our navy computer systems are so full of back doors and secret access codes and intentional security loopholes…" She sighed. "An inner-circle admiral can issue instructions, then erase any trace that it happened. I’ll check, of course, just in case someone got sloppy covering up tracks; but in all likelihood, not even the admirals on the High Council can figure out which of them sent Willow to Troyen."
"But you’re sure," I said, "that Willow was bringing that queen for the recruiters?"
"That’s my guess," Festina answered. Her face was dark with shadows. "Now tell me: what would happen if the recruiters had a queen working with them?"
I winced. Mandasars have fanatically strong instincts to follow a queen’s orders. Even if the queen said something ridiculous like, "Surrender to the recruiters," a good chunk of the population would start thinking, "If a queen wants us recruited, maybe that’s the way things should be. Maybe we just don’t understand, and it’s selfish trying to stay the way we are." More likely though, the queen wouldn’t be so blatant. The recruiters would use her to trick a few kids at a time, luring warriors into traps, thinning out numbers gradually, till the hives weren’t strong enough to defend themselves. These kids were so innocent, one queen could make suckers of them all. Look how eagerly the warriors listened to me, just because I smelled of week-old venom and once had a fancy title.
Yes, a queen would be a godsend to the recruiters… if she felt like cooperating with them. "But why would a queen do it?" I asked. "Why would she help humans do bad things to her own kind?"
"Maybe just to get off Troyen," Festina said. "Suppose a queen was doing badly in the war — surrounded by enemies, low on troops and supplies. Then Willow shows up with a proposition: free passage to Celestia and a chance to start fresh on a new planet. All she has to do is help the recruiters a bit. Would the queen take the deal?"
"Yes," I said. "Then double-cross the recruiters as soon as she got the chance."
"They wouldn’t give her the chance," Festina told me. "They’d keep a gun to her head the rest of her life. Except the League killed her and the whole of Willow before any of that could happen."
Festina eased off her elbow and rolled onto her back again — side by side with me in the darkness, staring up at Troyen’s sun. "That’s what makes me think it’s just one admiral, rather than the whole council. The council are power-mad sleazebags, but they aren’t collectively stupid. Transporting a queen from one star system to another? When the queen had been waging a war for twenty years? That’s an insane risk. The League was almost sure to consider the queen a dangerous non-sentient… so any fool could see they’d kill her and the Willow’s crew. If the council jointly agreed to give Willow its orders, then the council would be branded non-sentient too. Next thing you know, the League might ground our whole navy till the admirals were thrown out on their asses. That’s a very real threat, and the inner circle knows it."
She shook her head. "No, Edward, our noble leaders have a finely honed sense of self-preservation; they’d never go far enough to bring the League down on their heads. But a single admiral might — if he or she had a big stake, keeping the recruiters in business."
"Which admiral?" I asked.
"I don’t know. One who can’t leave New Earth anymore — he or she is definitely non-sentient. But that doesn’t narrow down the possibilities. None of the high admirals leave New Earth; they’re all afraid of people conspiring against them while they’re gone."
"So you can’t even make a guess who it is?" I was up on my elbow now, leaning in over her. Her eyes opened wider, maybe surprised I was so concerned who it might be. She just stared at me for a moment…
…and that’s when I realized I was lying beside an admiral, a young woman admiral, a very pretty young woman admiral, in the middle of a forest, in the middle of the night. More than lying beside her, I was practically on top of her, for heaven’s sake.
That’s also when Zeeleepull walked into the clearing. "Oh, you humes! Always the sex, sex, sex."
19 FIGURING OUT WHO DID WHAT
I bounded to my feet, afraid my face was burning as red as Kaisho’s legs. Festina didn’t look bothered at all; with an impish little smile, she actually held out her hand for me to help her up.
She didn’t need help getting up — she probably could have done a backflip straight to her feet. But she’d reached out her hand, and I had no choice except taking it. Her skin felt so warm against mine… I had to force myself not to give her a huge yank up, jerking her arm out of its socket or tossing her halfway across the clearing. But I went very easy: pulled her up, then let go of her hand fast. She smiled again, amused by my flusterment. "Thank you," she said, then turned to Zeeleepull. "Yes?"
Zeeleepull’s ears were twitching in the Mandasar version of a you-randy-old-humans laugh. But all he said was, "Tracked serial numbers Kaisho has. Come. Come."
Festina gave me a look — a mischievous sort of look, and f
or a second I thought she might try to fluster me more, by taking my arm or something. But I guess she decided teasing me would be mean. She told Zeeleepull, "All right. Let’s see what Kaisho’s got." Then the three of us walked back in silence, little puffbally things going pop under our feet.
While we were gone, Kaisho had rearranged her hair. Now it completely covered her face, not the tiniest gap down the middle; in fact, she’d grabbed the long straight strands that’d been hanging down her back and flipped them up over her forehead, so they covered her nose, chin, throat, all the way to her chest. I didn’t know how she could see a thing… but as we trudged up to her, she said, "Festina dear, you’re looking amused."
"Enjoying the fresh night air," Festina replied. "What have you found?"
Kaisho lifted her hand and ticked off points on her fingers. "The communicator: still supposedly present and accounted for in a storehouse on New Earth. The universal map: present and accounted for on Moglin. The Bumbler: present and accounted for on He’Barr."
Festina wrinkled her forehead. "Three different storehouses, dozens of light-years from each other. And dozens of light-years from Celestia too."
The two women nodded to each other, like it was obvious what was going on. I tried to think it through myself. If the computer records said the Bumbler was still on He’Barr, but it was right here crushed into the mud… then someone had stolen the Bumbler and rigged the inventory computers to overlook the discrepancy. That might mean a thief in the local Supply Corps; but you wouldn’t have three thieves at three different supply depots, all sending stuff to one recruiter. Easier to assume a single thief: someone so high up in the navy, he or she had access to any depot. And also had computer permission codes to cover up the thefts.
In other words, an admiral.
"So who?" Kaisho asked… looking straight at me for some reason instead of at Festina.
"What who?" Zeeleepull demanded. He glared around at the rest of us, like we were intentionally hiding some secret from him.
"Who provided the recruiters with navy equipment?" Festina told him. "And who ordered Willow to fetch a queen from Troyen? It can only be an admiral on the High Council. Someone who’s sponsoring the recruiters… for cash or for power, or for some scheme we don’t know about yet."
"An admiral?" Zeeleepull growled. "Humes never trust be can." He glared at Festina, then caught sight of me right beside her. "Teelu exception is," he mumbled. "Not really hume at all."
Kaisho giggled at that. You wouldn’t think an advanced human-Balrog synthesis could giggle. Festina stared at her in surprise for a moment, then said sternly, "Let’s get a grip, shall we? A rogue admiral is helping the recruiters!"
"Ah, dear Festina," Kaisho sighed, "always business, business, business." Her head suddenly cocked on an angle; when she spoke again, her voice had the sly smug tone of someone who’s realized something you haven’t. "Pity no one from Willow survived," she said. "They might have known which admiral ordered them to Troyen."
Festina looked back at her. "You have an idea? Or should I say, the Balrog has some brilliant alien insight?"
The moss on Kaisho’s legs flared brighter for a second, almost as if it was taking a bow. "Who were the Explorers on Willow?" Kaisho asked.
"Plebon and Olympia Mell," the admiral answered.
"Ever meet them?"
"I knew Plebon," Festina replied. "He was one of the Explorers marooned with me on Melaquin. After we got back, I made a point of spending time with him because he was a friend of my old partner Yarrun; they’d considered themselves kindred spirits because they both had the same…"
The admiral stopped, lowering her eyes as if she was suddenly embarrassed. Vaguely, she waved her hand under her chin. I had no idea what she meant but Kaisho did. She turned straight to me and said, "Among the bodies on Willow, did you see a man with a deformed jaw?"
I stared stupidly at her while my brain tried to catch up with the question. Festina was way ahead of me. She gawped at Kaisho, then whirled and grabbed my arm. "Edward, please… think back. Was there a man, an African man, very tall and dark, but missing the lower half of his face? If you saw it, you wouldn’t forget it. He had practically no jaw at all."
Still not quite understanding, I cast my mind back over the crumpled bodies in the lounge. "No," I said, "there wasn’t anyone with a funny jaw on the ship." Not in the lounge, not on the bridge, not in any possible hidey-hole. "I’m certain."
Festina let out a sigh of relief. "Hallelujah."
Kaisho held up her hands in a "What would you expect?" gesture. All smug and proud, she said, "The Explorer Corps vindicates itself again."
"Cryptic and mysterious and annoying humes," Zeeleepull grumped. "What, what, what this means?"
"Willow carried two Explorers," Festina answered, "and at least one of them wasn’t aboard when they headed back to Celestia."
"Probably both," Kaisho put in. "If Plebon stayed on Troyen, his partner would too."
"Why would they stay on Troyen?" I asked.
"Because Explorers are smart," Kaisho said. "Because they believed the queen was non-sentient. They knew the League would kill the queen and everyone who helped transport her. Plebon and Olympia wanted no part of it."
Zeeleepull sniffed, all disapproving. "Desertion is," he said. "If orders say, no cowarding out."
"Not true," Festina told him. "The Admiralty can give orders that skate to the edge of non-sentience, but if they ever go over the line, you don’t have to obey. In fact, official policy says you must not obey. Of course, the High Council really wants subordinates to shut up and do as they’re told; but the council has to keep the League of Peoples happy, and that means allowing folks to follow their consciences. NAVY PERSONNEL WILL AT ALL TIMES CONFORM TO THE STRICTEST STANDARDS OF SENTIENCE, EVEN WHEN THIS NECESSITATES DEFIANCE OF A DIRECT COMMAND. That’s right in the Outward Fleet’s charter — the League wouldn’t accept anything less. So if Plebon and Olympia believed the queen committed atrocities during the war, they had every right to say, ‘Count us out.’ " Festina paused. "I wonder if others from Willow’s crew stayed behind."
"No way to tell," Kaisho said. "Not with the ship missing and its records EMP’d."
I stared at her a second. How did Kaisho know that? She hadn’t showed up till after I’d told my story. But before I could say anything, Festina was talking — all excitement and glee. "Plebon and Olympia must know which admiral controlled Willow" she said. "Any good Explorer would demand to know who ordered such a lunatic mission. Hell, they’d break into the captain’s quarters if they had to, just to peek at the signature on the official dispatches."
"So," Kaisho murmured, "if we find Plebon and Olympia, we learn which admiral is backing the recruiters."
"Whereupon we raise a big stink with the High Council," Festina said, "condemning the bastard for stealing navy property. And for routing that property to a group who murdered poor Wiftim and tried to kill me. The council will not be pleased. The council will, in fact, howl for blood… if only because one of their own was playing fast and loose behind their backs. Next thing you know, they’ll squeeze the guilty party to spill his or her guts: demand name, rank, and serial number for every recruiter on Celestia. Anything else would be harboring a murderer, and not even the Admiralty would be stupid enough to do that."
Kaisho gave a whispery chuckle. "Knowing the High Council, they’ll make a show of arresting the recruiters personally. Demonstrate their good intentions by sending a Security force straight to the recruiters’ base. Once you back the council into a corner, they have a knack for turning a hundred eighty degrees, snatching the limelight, and taking credit for defending the weak."
"Just their style," Festina nodded. She made a face, like she’d seen it happen plenty of times before. "On the other hand, our first concern is stopping the recruiters. Doesn’t matter who gets their pictures in Mind Spurs Weekly."
"But, um," I said, "you have to get the name of the guilty admiral, right? And
the only people who might know that are stuck on Troyen."
"True," Festina agreed. "You understand the situation admirably."
Her eyes glittered in the glow from Kaisho’s legs. Both women were looking at me now. Even though I couldn’t see Kaisho’s face, I could tell she was grinning. "Um," I said. "So I guess you’re going to Troyen?"
"Not just me," Festina answered. She put her hand on my arm. "I’ll need a native guide, won’t I?"
Kaisho laughed and laughed. The sound of it made me dizzy.
20
LYING BESIDE COUNSELOR
I don’t remember much from there on — all of a sudden my body got so tired I couldn’t think straight. It felt like Kaisho’s laughter was going all hyena-ish like the Laughing Larry, getting so loud it drowned out everything else in my head. I had time to think, It’s the venom again. Then things turned into a fuddled-up blur where time seemed to get the hiccups.
First I was lying facedown in the mud, while insects no bigger than pepper scuttled under my nose; then suddenly I was neck deep in water, with Zeeleepull and the admiral dragging me across the canal; then whoops, I was back where I started, in the hive’s dome, lying on a pallet beside the Queen Wisdom table. After that, I might have slept, or just passed out for an hour or two… but not the whole night. When I woke with a clearer head, it was still dark, and Counselor had snuggled in beside me.
Several of her legs draped lightly over my body. One of her upper hands was cupped against my cheek: six delicate fingers covered in soft walnut brown skin. The fingers were too long to be human, and they had no nails, but they didn’t look strange to me; they looked like home. Night after night in Verity’s palace, the queen would assign a maidservant to stay next to me as I slept, in case I might wake and want something.
"Are you well now, Teelu?" Counselor whispered.
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