The structure is there in the Flux, Jael said doubtfully. We can try, but I don't know what good it can really do. Still, they were now drifting past what seemed the closest approach they would make to the water layer. If there was anything they couldn't see because of the peculiarities of the image, now might be the time to try something new.
Yawk, yawk! Ed sputtered, hopping in front of her. Go now! Go now!
Jael frowned at him. What are you talking about?
Now! Now! Let me! Cawww! Go for break! For broke!
Ed don't—Jael began, then paused. The bird was really quite agitated. He was stalking to and fro, peering down in the direction that they wanted to go. Do you see something we don't? Was it possible that the bird's eyes and instincts could show them a way that they might miss themselves?
Ar rubbed the ridge on the side of his head, looking thoughtfully at the bird. Ed? What do you mean?
The parrot beat his scarlet-feathered wings, launching himself up over their heads. He was a brilliant flash of emerald and red, darting back and forth. Brawwwwk-k-k! Ed can get you there! Let Ed do it! Now! Now!
Ar's luminous eyes showed no more certainty than Jael felt, but if there was any way . . .
Okay, Ed, she said nervously. I don't know what you have in mind, but you can try it. But be careful!
YAWWWWWWK-K-K! The parrot flashed upward, spiraling high above them. Yes, I do it, came his voice, thin with distance.
But what is he doing? Ar asked.
Jael didn't answer. She watched Ed reach the peak of his upward arc, watched him flip over into a dive. My God, she thought. The parrot was hurtling downward like a rocket, toward them . . . toward the bottom of the net . . .
Toward the layer of ice.
Did Ed know what he was doing? He couldn't possibly understand . . . could the net withstand the stress he was about to put on it?
She started to scream to Ed, to tell him to pull out—then changed her mind and shouted to Ar to let go of the tension, to allow as much slack in the net as they possibly could. She felt the net loosen and slip—
SCREEE-AAIIIEEEE-E-E-E-E . . .!
Ed flashed down past them, down. The net stretched. Jael had an afterimage in her mind of Ed's beak outthrust like a battering ram. Ed and the ice layer converged, and he hit the ice with a concussion like a thunderclap—and the ice shattered, a heavy pane of crystal breaking into fragments that tumbled away from the impact point. A hole appeared behind him as he dived deep into the water below.
Jael gazed down in astonishment and heard the parrot's voice distantly calling, Jayl . . . Ar . . . follow . . . follow . . .. The parrot turned, circling at the utter extremity of the net.
For the barest fraction of a second, Jael and Ar exchanged glances of disbelief; then, combining their powers, they reshaped the net and pitched the ship downward on the path blazed by Ed. The Flux itself had been altered, as water from their channel flowed slowly into the opening Ed had created. The ship moved sluggishly, at the best speed they could coax from it. Hold on! she called to Ed. Don't tear the net!
Hurry . . . hurry . . . came the distant reply.
Ice was already beginning to form again, to close off the opening. They reached the hole just as it contracted to the ship's size, or perhaps a little smaller. Gather it in! Ar shouted, drawing the net in close on the sides. It helped, but they were still too large; and they hit the opening with a CRUNNNCH, and a grating sound, as they slowed. Jael kicked out to the side, hard, and something gave way—and they slid free.
They were through, gliding downward into the icy clear waters.
Ed spiraled up, swimming gracefully. With a shriek, he popped up into the bubble and perched between them, neck twisting this way and that, as though he were trying to look everywhere at once. Yawk, yawk! We did it? We did it?
We did it, Ed! You did it! Jael hooted.
The parrot clucked, clacking his beak. Good! Good! Yuck-yuck! Yup! And with a great happy sigh, he fell silent and watched as Jael and Ar turned their full attention to rerigging the ship.
Slowly they oriented themselves and spied the distant hazy form of their destination. Now they had only to locate the best current in these waters, but already they were moving in the right direction. Behind them, the realm of ice was receding into memory, and the way ahead appeared clear and true.
Chapter 22: Vela Oasis
"I'M HAPPY to report that we should be arriving ahead of schedule," Ar announced, as Ms. Flaire joined them in the commons. Jael had already eaten half her dinner; she was starving, after what they had been through today.
Flaire lifted a decanter to pour herself a glass of wine. She paused in the middle of the motion. "Ahead of schedule? I thought we were in trouble. In fact, since I spoke with you earlier, I thought I felt another—"
Ar's nod cut off her words. His voice rumbled deep in his throat, and Jael recognized a tone of humor. "What you felt was us making a readjustment in the options that were available to us." Flaire frowned in puzzlement, and Ar explained, "We passed through a boundary layer—truthfully, with more success than we expected—and we located quite a strong and steady current toward Vela Oasis. Our destination is now well in sight."
Flaire's eyebrows went up as she tipped the decanter and poured a small glass of ruby-colored wine. "Just like that?" With a gesture, she inquired if either of them would like a glass. Jael blinked, and nodded emphatically.
"Well, it wasn't quite that simple," Ar conceded.
Flaire poured for Jael. "I imagine not. Are you certain you don't want any?"
"No, thank you. One of us needs to stay clear."
Flaire nodded and held her glass to the light, rotating it by its stem. "So. Are you going to tell me about Ed?" She smiled wryly. "I thought you might fill me in on the nature of the problem that you had?" Her gaze shifted from one to the other.
Ar glanced at Jael and said, a trifle less confidently, "Yes . . . Ed. Well—"
Jael cleared her throat. "Never mind, Ar. I'll explain it." She felt her voice tighten, and she took a small sip of wine, determined to tell the story without regret or self-consciousness. Ed, after all, had proved himself quite a rigger in the clutch. "Ed," Jael said finally, "is a parrot . . ."
Ms. Flaire's eyebrows rose again, higher than before.
* * *
The Vela Oasis starport loomed before them like a great golden-spired city on the horizon. Starship Seneca was a raft on a fast-flowing river flanked by gently rolling green hills. They all clung to the raft as they were swept along by the current, Ed perched firmly on Jael's shoulder.
The trip was nearly over.
Only a few hours later, they brought the ship spiraling out of the Flux, into the starry night. Floating in interplanetary space, they put in a call for a tow. Then they had some time to rest and plan what they wanted to do after planetfall.
Ar was in favor of getting back into space again as soon as possible. "After having a look around Vela Oasis, of course," he said, as they relaxed in his cabin. He was fiddling with a small music synth, producing an appalling series of arhythmic sounds, pulsing with strong, semiharmonic beats. Jael had come to realize that Ar's ideas about music were considerably different from her own; it was something she was going to have to learn to put up with. Oblivious to her occasional winces, Ar continued, "Once you're doing well, it's best to keep working if you can, I think. At least until you've established a good record." He added sheepishly, "I've never managed to get more than two flights in a row, myself. But with any luck, Ms. Flaire may ask us to keep rigging for her." He silenced his synth and peered at her, his eyes sparkling with hints of gold in the purple webbing of his retinas. He stroked his head-ridges with his fingertips. "Of course, you might feel differently. Maybe you don't want to."
Jael laughed. "Is that your way of asking if I'd like to keep rigging with you? The answer is yes." As Ar's lips crinkled, her thoughts turned inward again. She wasn't really thinking of the immediate future so much as the long t
erm. Aware of Ar's curious stare, she sighed and murmured, "I was just thinking about . . . Highwing. And wishing I could fly that way again some time." Her lips twitched with a wistful smile. Truthfully, though, it was not just Highwing but also the pallisp that had been fluttering through her mind. Nearly this entire flight has passed without her thinking of the pallisp, and even when she had thought of it, she'd only felt vague flutterings of desire. That was a comforting realization.
"Highwing," Ar echoed. The room light angled into his face as he tilted his head, and reflected brightly from the violet filaments deep in his eyes. His mood seemed to turn pensive. "Highwing is still very real to you, isn't he?"
"Yes, Ar, of course he is. You still don't believe—"
"I was surprised," Ar said, interrupting, "by what Ed was able to do today. Cracking the ice like that. I was surprised that such a thing, such a change to the Flux, was possible."
Jael sighed in exasperation. "What's that got to do with—"
"I'm trying to say that I'm not sure anymore what is possible and what isn't," Ar said. A faraway look came into his eyes. "I'm not saying that I'm convinced, and I don't think one should go flying into dangerous places without good reason. But—" his gaze flickered back to Jael "—I appreciate your feelings. Your desires."
"Ah."
"Even if I don't . . . share them, exactly."
Jael nodded, gratified to have achieved that much progress, at least. "Right. I know. Still . . ." She let the thought go, with a shrug. "Mariella hasn't hinted to you whether she wants us to stay on, has she?"
Ar shook his head. "She seems happy with us. But no, not yet."
And that, Jael reflected, was the bottom line. They couldn't choose their future when they didn't know what their choices were. For now, it was just a matter of waiting. Of flying into a new port, and waiting.
But that, she thought, was the life of a rigger. The life that riggers everywhere accepted as normal . . . even if it felt anything but normal to her.
* * *
Mariella Flaire was little in evidence during the rest of the flight into Vela Oasis. Jael noted from the bridge, though, that there was a good deal of communications activity between Flaire's cabin on Seneca and the planetside network. Business activity, she presumed, though they knew little of the nature of Flaire's business. During the tow, she and Ar contented themselves with watching the growing ball of the approaching world, an ocher-and-green planet with thin, wispy clouds. They passed some of the time trying to devise a method for letting Ed out into the spaceship proper, so that he wouldn't be confined to the net. But once it became clear that the required holotronic circuitry wasn't on board, they postponed the effort.
It was only as they were on final approach orbit that Flaire appeared on the bridge. "I apologize for the long silence," she announced, "but I've been tied up with some rather difficult negotiations planetside." She rubbed her fingers together uneasily. "I'd hoped to be able to continue on directly from here, with you two as my crew—if you were willing—on a series of rather tightly scheduled stops. But . . ."
Jael's heart sank.
" . . . I'm afraid I'm going to be held up here for a while with some bureaucratic problems. Nothing to do with you, or this ship and its cargo, but it could wreak havoc with my schedule. However." She looked up suddenly, intently. "I've been quite favorably impressed with your handling of this ship, and with your forthrightness and dependability."
So you'll give us a good recommendation? Jael almost said aloud.
"So with that in mind, I have a proposal for the two of you."
"Yes?" Ar murmured.
"I'd like to retain you to rig a four-system circuit, following my original schedule. You would be flying alone, while I stayed on Oasis. Your last stop would be back here. At that time we could discuss future arrangements, if everything in the meantime has worked out satisfactorily." She paused, looking uneasy. She seemed to feel out of place on the bridge, as though uncomfortable with the trappings of star piloting.
Jael noticed this in a disconnected sort of way, because her own thoughts were spinning in astonishment. Had Flaire just asked them to take charge of her ship and rig with it, just the two of them, for an entire series of flights? She looked at Ar. His gaze was unperturbed, as though he had been expecting this all along, but she knew he'd expected no such thing. It was not unheard of for riggers to be put in sole charge of the ships they flew, but it was uncommon. Usually, it happened to riggers with considerably more experience.
"You can take some time to decide," Flaire said. "I realize that this may put more of a burden of responsibility on you than you would care to take on. But it's important to me that these flights be made on schedule. I trust the two of you, and I don't have anyone on Oasis whom I would care to put in command over you."
"Thank you," Ar murmured.
"Do you need some time alone to discuss it?"
Ar and Jael glanced at each other and nodded. Flaire, looking vaguely relieved, left them on the bridge.
"She seems preoccupied by this corporate problem," Ar said.
Jael nodded. "But what an offer!"
"Yes." Ar's eyes rotated to look at her. "It sounds attractive. But two cautions come to mind. We don't know the situation; but suppose that, by the time we return to pick her up, her business turns out to have fallen on hard times."
"We might not get paid. Is that what you're saying?"
"Just that it's a possibility. Personally, I believe that she is an honest woman, and that it's a risk worth taking. What do you think?"
"I think so, too. But you said two cautions."
"Oh, yes. Well, just that . . . we have never flown together without a captain to provide backup stability, and to take ultimate responsibility for the ship, which is no small thing."
Certainly, that was true, Jael thought. And they were not without their own weaknesses as riggers, as they had learned on this flight. But, remembering the kinds of captains they could find themselves serving under, she was inclined to take on the responsibility, if their employer found them worthy of it. "I don't think we should turn down an opportunity like this," she said finally. "It might never come again."
Ar studied her for a moment, considering.
"Although," she added, as an afterthought, "I guess I would want to know what we'd be carrying." She thought Flaire was honest, too, but she remembered Mogurn and his illegal cargoes.
"Agreed. But if the cargo's satisfactory . . . ?"
Jael smiled. "Let's give her a call, shall we? I want to fly."
By the time they landed on Vela Oasis, they had a new contract with Flaire and a tentative flight schedule. Their ground time on Oasis would be short—just a day and a half, enough time to service the ship and to offload their cargo of commercial data grains and semiprecious crystalloids, and to reload with a manifest of local art and light-tech products. Soon they would be on their way again. That suited Jael. She was curious enough about the world before them, but more than that, she was eager to be on to her next rigging challenge.
* * *
The city of Carnelius on Vela Oasis was a noisy and exotic place, one that reminded Jael of the lore of the ancient Middle East on Homeworld Earth, long before Humankind had first set out for the stars. There were outdoor bazaars, jewelry merchants, and street after street of brightly bannered buildings crowded with shops and trading malls selling textiles, carpets, fine stones, holo-art and hard-art, and goods of every sort. Everyone seemed to be selling, but Jael couldn't quite figure out where all of the buyers came from. Offworlders, probably. Bargaining and bartering seemed to be the norm here.
Jael had real spending money now, for the first time since she'd left Gaston's Landing, but she felt reluctant to spend much of it on goods and fineries. With Ar, however, she searched the holotronic supply houses for devices to enable them to project Ed into the ship. They found that and more. Entering one shop specializing in environment enhancements, they found themselves in a grove of exo
tic plants and sculptures, ranging from solid "smellies" to sparkling translucent "impressions" that glowed and twisted in the air. Jael was enchanted by a holographic aviary, in which breathtakingly colored birds flitted in and out of nothingness and swooped over their heads or perched and sang out their courting songs. "Ar—" she whispered, "do you think Ed might like some birds for company?" Even as she said it, she wondered if they could possibly afford something like that, anyway.
Ar, studying one of the birds, bent to murmur something to it. The bird squawked and flew away. Ar straightened. "I don't think they're smart enough," he said. "They don't seem to be talkers."
Probably just as well, Jael thought. Ed might feel territorial about his position aboard the ship. And the ship's owner might feel strange about having her ship overrun by holographic birds. Jael turned to leave the store, but paused when she glimpsed an unusual tree in a corner of the grove. It was small and delicately shaped, like a bonsai; its branches were dusted with gold, and its leaves shone with a pale inner glow that seemed to brighten as she approached. She gazed at it with delight. "How much?" she asked the shopkeeper.
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