* * *
Djeserit didn’t join Trin on the island but fished throughout the day, returning more food to shore.
‘You must tell her to stop, Trinder. She is exhausted,’ said Joe Scali. ‘She will not listen.’
But Trin remained distant from her. Instead, he ordered that the strongest refugees should scoop out hollows under the thorn bushes to reach the wet, cool sand beneath, while the weakest were charged with cutting up the fish, using the few knives they had pooled or the edges of broken shells.
When it was done, they crowded away from the rising sun into the shade and ate the fish raw. Those too listless to chew sucked at the pink flesh for moisture and for the salve of oils on their burned lips and throats.
Gusts of moist salt wind tempered the unbearable heat but Trin worried about their lack of fresh water. He dozed fitfully in his hollow, unable to sleep properly because of thirst and the press of the exhausted bodies packed in around him.
At suns set he walked alone to the water, opening his fellalo, to lie in the shallows. Even the stinging of sea lice couldn’t deny the refugees the balm of the sea. But could they live off it until help came?
Trin looked along the darkening beach line to the clumps of survivors. Vespa Malocchi sat crying between Juno Genarro and another. He had wanted to bring his fratella’s body but Trin had forbidden it. The yacht had barely been able to carry the weight of the living. So Vespa had scraped the burning sand over Seb’s body and left him.
Trin sat recalling the fire in Loisa and how he had risked his life then to help Seb Malocchi. The futility of it made him want to laugh but he had no heart for such things.
Then a movement in the water made him shift uneasily. The shallow seas of the coastal islands harboured few predators but occasionally a xoc would find its way in from the deep. He had seen one at the holiday palazzo; speared by the Cavaliere and left on the beach to die. When he had dug Djeserit from under Seb Malocchi, the sluggishness of her gills had reminded him of that xoc—gasping as it expired.
‘Principe?’
It was her. She had surfaced alongside him and was lying with her face raised from the water. Her voice was thick as if she had already forgotten how to use it. Her skin was no longer flaking, though, and the burns had faded, leaving her gleaming like the wet flesh he had eaten during the day.
‘You provided food for us. Grazi,’ Trin said stiffly. ‘Another night and we must move south to the bigger islands. There will be more shade and the Saqr will not bother to search for us there.’
‘Yes,’ Djeserit agreed. ‘The sea will care for us.’
‘For you,’ he said with a tinge of bitterness.
She heard it in his voice and moved closer. ‘It is better if I stay in the water. I can fish for us and my skin—my body—will heal.’
‘Until when?’ Trin asked.
‘Until we are safe, Principe. I will rest for a while now and then I will swim to the Palazzo for fresh water.’
Trin’s heartbeat quickened. ‘That is too dangerous. I forbid—’
‘You did not forbid Juno Genarro,’ Djeserit said softly.
Trin hesitated. She was right. Their water supplies had dwindled to almost nothing and he had not thought ahead clearly. ‘There are several huts around the back of the palazzo that are used for storing leisure equipment. One of them will have a desalinator.’
He waded back to the hard wet sand above where the waves lapped and drew for her a rough diagram of a small machine that consisted of tubes and cylinders.
Djeserit rolled in the shallows like a seal, watching. ‘I will need something to float it back.’
‘They may be guarding the marina now.’ Trin thought
for a moment. ‘But there is an inlet on the northern side, a tidal tributary. There is a pinnace for fishing trips moored in there.’
He sank to his knees and slid into the water alongside her again. ‘Please, Djes...’
Her hand grasped his and pushed sharp round buttons into his fist. ‘I have saved these for you. Pipis will give you strength.’
Then she dipped under the water and was gone.
THALES
The two women faced each other across a ribbed, odorous cavern that they called the buccal: one was lean and muscular, her face rigid with fury, the other, the Latino aristocrat, was fragile-looking and trembling with emotion. At her shoulder stood the man who had accompanied her to the meeting with Sophos Mianos.
Another man stood behind the muscular woman. All of them, aside from the Baronessa, were of a type that Thales had not previously encountered, and their manner alarmed him in a way that the OLOSS guards had not.
‘What have you done?’ said the muscular woman. ‘Who is this? A hiss as she jerked a finger at Thales.
‘OLOSS wanted to impound Insignia while they conducted an investigation—and hold me.’ A glance at Thales. ‘He... he gave us a chance to get away.’
‘And so you saw fit to tear the ‘zoon from the docking matrix and send us running from an OLOSS envoy.’ The hard-looking woman folded her arms, some of the heat going out of her expression. ‘And you call me foolhardy, Baronessa.’
‘I thought that was what you wanted—to run.’
‘With a distance between us, yes. Not while we’re almost in bed with them.’
‘My action was motivated by survival, not avarice.’ The aristocrat held her head high and Thales watched the emotions play across her face. She seemed at once sane and unbalanced. What situation had he brought himself to? Yet while he’d been standing behind Mianos, listening to her story about her world had been like a spear to his heart. She had been forced to leave her child behind, maybe leaving it to its death.
‘So you think I am motivated by greed?’ said the muscular woman.
The Baronessa didn’t flinch. There seemed to be a weight of feeling between them. ‘What do you call it, then, Rast Randall?’
The woman, Rast, balled her fists in anger and turned to Thales. ‘Your story: quick and to the point.’
Thales licked dry, nervous lips. ‘I am indebted to the Baronessa and her... servant for—’ He nodded at the one whom Mira had called Latourn.
‘Yes. Yes,’ said Rast. ‘But why did you help her?’
‘It is not a simple tale. I am not who I appear to be. I am a philosopher who has been wronged. I took work as a courier to help a friend; to help myself. Life had become difficult for me on Scolar.’ Thales swallowed several times before continuing. ‘My misfortune continued, though. When I boarded the OLOSS craft, my nemesis was destined for the same trip.’
‘Sophos Mianos?’ asked the Baronessa.
‘Yes. He had me wrongfully imprisoned on Scolar and more. He kept me from my... my wife. When he spoke of imprisoning you and your organic craft, I... I... became rash... I would admit... impulsive. My wife tells me it is my biggest failing. I am recovered now and regret any inconvenience.’
‘Regret any inconvenience, eh?’ Rast Randall sucked in her cheeks as though she might be on the verge of exploding.
The Baronessa nodded her head politely at Thales. ‘I am indebted to you...’
‘Thales Berniere,’ said Thales.
‘Msr Berniere, I have, I am afraid, put you at further risk.’
He returned her nod. Despite her fragile appearance the woman had fine manners and strength of mind. ‘I have a work obligation to fulfil. Would it be too much trouble to ask you to convey me as far as Scol station?’
The Baronessa smiled at him: a beautiful shy smile that warmed his numb senses.
Rast frowned at them both. ‘Catchut,’ she said to the man at her shoulder, ‘find him a cabin and show him the cucina.’ She then gave Thales a hard look. ‘We’ll take you to Scol station. In the meantime you are in one of those two places unless you are with one of us. Understood? Nowhere else. If I find you roaming around the ‘zoon, I’ll spit you out into the black.’
MIRA
Rast eyed Mira unpleasantly when Catchut Latourn
and Berniere left the buccal. ‘I can only think that you are missing your own ilk, Baronessa? Why else would your risk your own and Latourn’s life for him.’
Mira? said Insignia.
Just a moment.
‘It happened quickly. I-I made a decision.’ Mira braced herself for further ridicule but it didn’t come.
Instead Rast slumped down into Autonomy. ‘At least you made a decision, Fedor. Now what do you propose?’
Mira sank opposite her into Primo. The warmth of the vein pulsed around her and she could feel Insignia’s receptors flirting across her skin, gently pricking places to allow the transmission of fluids and sugars. Within moments she began to revitalise but with the energy came a welling of tears. She turned her face to the vein wall, letting it absorb the trickle of moisture.
‘I am at a loss. OLOSS will not help Araldis, at least not quickly. Perhaps not at all, now that I have done this. I-I am failing.’
They stayed in silence while Mira let Primo subsume her. When the process was complete she immersed herself in Insignia’s propulsion and self-repair of the egress scale.
The OLOSS craft was still becalmed. Had Mianos and his guards survived the tear? Had her decision killed more people?
‘There is an alternative.’
It took Mira a while to realise that Rast had spoken. She dragged herself from her immersion, enough to speak. Rast was still in Autonomy.
‘What is that?’
‘You could raise your own intervention.’
Mira waited.
‘Consilience, Fedor?’
‘What? An organisation that opposes everything!’
‘That perception is nearly as outdated as your society, Baronessa. Consilience is not an organisation—it’s an assemblage.’
‘Why would an assemblage wish to help my world? I have no money to pay them.’
Rast sat up straighter and ran her fingers through her short white hair. ‘Don’t you understand? OLOSS was a coming together of races and species that shared common beliefs about law; but more than that, common beliefs about evolution. They believe that it is a natural process that should not be interfered with.’
‘And so?’
‘On the other side are the Extropists—a multi-species group that opposes those beliefs. They believe that they are in charge—destined to control and shape their own evolution. They don’t give a crap about moral and ethical debate. They’ll do anything to advance themselves. Their genetic manipulation is extreme.’
‘Si. Monsters and so on,’ Mira murmured.
‘It sounds childish but it is scientific and utterly ruthless.’
‘And so?’
‘So Consilience sits between them. It wants neither body to have the upper hand and believes that diversity is the key to sentient survival.’
Mira was silenced by Rast’s eloquence. The woman was such a contradiction.
Rast guessed her thoughts. ‘Mercenary does not equate with stupid or uneducated, Baronessa. That’s where your blinkers go right back on.’
‘But you are mostly so crude. You speak in a way—’
‘I speak in a way that will get me understood and I need you to understand.’
Mira withdrew from her immersion and felt her ‘external’ mind reawaken properly. ‘The cryoprotectants you brought on board are for the Extropists. Are you one of them?’
‘I brought cryoprotectants to trade with the Extropists. They struggle to get what they need. Without that stuff their society will degrade.’
‘You are helping to keep the balance of power,’ said Mira slowly, making the connections. ‘You work for Consilience.’
Rast merely stared at her. ‘I can help you meet the people who might mount an intervention. But you have to tell me what you know.’
Mira hedged. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You know something about the invasion. You’ve viewed something you brought from Araldis. I checked your add-on history. I want to know what you learned.’
Fear twisted up her stomach. Rast had been spying on her. ‘Why would you care to help me?’
‘Because it may suit me to. Now tell me.’
Mira closed her eyes. The mercenary was impossible to predict. What else does she want? Should I trust her?
She is a potential ally when you have no other. You must rest again now. Your baby needs it, Insignia responded unasked.
Mira opened her eyes and climbed stiffly out of Primo. She felt the sting, and the loss, as the last of the vein’s receptors withdrew.
‘I was given an audio recording of a meeting between one of the Cipriano nobles and a Lostolian visitor. He was purchasing minerals from a certain mine on Araldis. It produces quixite, a naturally occurring alloy that is normally only found in minute quantities. I think that the invasion was a way of securing this substance. Yet that seems ridiculous. Why would anyone commit genocide for a mineral alloy?’
Rast’s face went whiter than her hair. Her eyes glittered. ‘Shape-metal alloy. Are you sure?’ she whispered.
‘It is called quixite. That is all I know.’
Rast took one large step across to Mira and gripped her shoulders. ‘Who was the buyer?’
Mira hesitated again. Her senses warned her against divulging all, yet she needed Rast’s strength, her pragmatism and, perhaps, her contacts. ‘His name was Tekton. She—the negotiator—referred to him as an archiTect. He is currently a tyro to the newly discovered Entity.’
Rast began to tremble.
‘An OLOSS member.’
Mira nodded. ‘I suppose so. Lostolians in general are.’
‘What does he want quixite for?’
‘I cannot imagine. You called it a shape-metal alloy. What does that mean?’
‘An alloy is a mixture of minerals—’
‘I am not a fool, mercenary. I know what an alloy is but what is special about this one?’
‘It remembers its shape. That is more than useful for some of the evolved Extros.’
Mira?
Si?
There are some things you should know.
Si?
We have just joined the Scol shift queue. However, the OLOSS craft has made its repairs and has gained significantly on us. It is faster than I am at sub-light speed.
How close is it?
It will be in shift queue within an hour.
Proceed with haste, then.
Station security is requesting that we dock.
Can we ignore them and go straight to shift?
Yes. Although the situation will be the same as Intel. They could fire upon us.
Mira took a deep breath. I will speak to Rast.
There is one more thing.
Si? Her concern translated as impatience.
My contract has just expired.
Mira’s entire body went cold. She swayed in Rast’s grip.
‘What now?’ Rast’s question sliced through the air between them.
‘The OLOSS craft has caught us. We are about to enter the shift queue but station security is insisting that we dock. Sophos Mianos has ‘casted a complaint.’
Mira’s knees gave and she sagged back towards Primo, but Rast held her up, refusing to let her sit.
‘And?’
‘Insignia’s contract has expired.’
Rast’s sudden alertness shifted to intense focus. ‘Time for more hard choices, Fedor. Sit and wait for OLOSS to catch up with you. Or run.’
‘To your Consilience assembly?’
‘Theirs, not mine, but it seems to me like your best chance. I mean, if they catch you now with cryoprotectants on board, your Araldis story won’t hold up.’
Rast was right in that. They might even think that Mira was the instigator of the invasion. Rast would certainly not claim responsibility for the purchase of the illegal substance.
Reluctantly, Mira nodded.
‘You’ve got a few minutes to strike a bargain with your ‘zoon, then, Fedor. Make it good,’ said Rast.
Mira
stared at her. ‘I need some quiet.’
The mercenary let go of Mira’s shoulders, easing her gently down into Primo. ‘I’ll be right here.’ She gestured to Secondo. ‘You make the deal and I’ll get us a clear path through shift.’
‘How will you do that? You have no friends in the shift queue this time.’
‘Just do your bit. I’ll do mine.’
Mira sank back and waited for immersion. As the receptors crawled under her clothes and penetrated her skin her link with the biozoon heightened.
Insignia?
Yes, Mira.
We are in a delicate position.
I think that you mean you are in a delicate position. I am free to do as I please.
But OLOSS wish to impound you also.
It is you they wish to question.
But you they wish to examine. And they must stop you to get me.
Not if I withdraw my humanesque life-support and expel your bodies into space.
Mira’s breath seemed to run out. You would do that?
I’m not sure. It is a possibility, I suppose.
But I thought we had... a bond.
We do, Mira Fedor. As I had with your father. You are my Innate. But that does not prevent me making decisions that concern my well-being. My culture is not the same as yours. Humanesques make that mistake. One of their greatest failings is that they suppose other sentients to be and to think the same way.
Mira gasped in some air. Insignia was neither angry nor vindictive; simply pragmatic and she must approach this the same way. What is it that you wish for, then? What would rebind you to me?
I have told you of my desire for ‘rafa.’
You wish to travel to Orion?
Yes. And further.
But I must return to Araldis. I have to find Vito. And the korm child...
I am prepared to wait some time for you to deal with immediate concerns. But then...
Mira thought through the consequences of such an agreement. It was not something to be made lightly. With it she committed to the life of a ship-bound wanderer. She had thought that to be her deepest desire but now, faced with it, she was not sure. I n-need time to think. This is a decision... I cannot make it quickly.
The Sentients of Orion Page 49
