The ball uncurled slowly, revealing a pale face with red-rimmed eyes. Dimollss took a ragged breath, then let it out and took another. ‘Yeah, I’m okay. Or I will be.’
‘What happened?’
Her face twisted. ‘That thing she held out? It does something to your chip that makes you … hurt.’ She spoke the last word in a flat voice.
Vess felt his stomach twist. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why? You didn’t do anything. And you couldn’t have stopped them. Nobody can stop them.’ She got up awkwardly, one limb at a time, and looked down at herself. ‘Besides – fucking yes!’
He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry – yes what?’
‘Yes, result. Ten seconds? That’s the first time I’ve got past five without throwing up. Heading for Seldyan.’
At first Vess felt sick. Then he reined it in. ‘Heading for who?’
She looked at him seriously. ‘You’ve heard of her then. Is she famous?’
‘In a way. Won’t I get you in trouble for talking again?’
‘Yes, so don’t do it.’ She grinned and turned away. Over her shoulder she added: ‘Most people get Mind Stack after their rest day. We might be in there together.’
He watched her walk away.
Despite his tiredness he slept very little that night. He was thinking about what counted as important.
He hadn’t realized that the economic well-being, such as it was, of the Inside rested on torturing children.
Oblong
SELDYAN WAS BEGINNING to think that their hosts were overusing the three planets. There they were again, visible in all their glowing vastness through the crystal-clear bubble of whatever it was that covered the room – although ‘covered’ wasn’t really the right word. ‘Formed’ was more accurate. They were standing on a fairly smooth section of the outside of Oblong and the bubble arched sharply down to ground level, covering an area about a hundred of her paces across. She couldn’t see how high it went because it was so clear it was effectively invisible, but from head-height down it produced a faint fluttering blur so that stars seen through it shimmered. Somebody had told her that was to stop people trying to walk through it by mistake.
There were tables with drinks and snacks. She stuck to foods she recognized and drinks that didn’t seem intoxicating. When she caught sight of the others they were doing the same, but she didn’t catch sight of them very often.
Everybody wanted to talk to them. Any attempt to stay in a group was hopeless; they were pulled in as many different directions as there were people in the room, and Seldyan made that over a hundred even when they were first led in. She smiled and answered, but mainly didn’t answer, dozens of variations on the obvious questions and a few unwelcome suggestions. Most of those she managed to freeze out, but she could feel her temper shortening.
She spotted a clearing in the forest of people and headed for it, using her elbows. It turned out to be centred on someone – a short stocky figure with its back to her, dressed in a plain wrap of faded brown that was belted at the waist. She saw eyes across the circle flicking away from the figure to her. From her Hive days she was used to interpreting fine shifts in body language. This time it was the shoulders that told her that the eyes that had noticed her had been noticed.
The figure turned and she was looking down – quite a long way down – into the most thickly bearded face she had ever seen, and one deeply black pupil was looking back at her. The other socket was empty. The parts of the face that weren’t dense black beard were reddish-blue skin which at first looked as if it was criss-crossed by thousands of black veins. Then she saw – they were tattoos.
She realized she was staring, and worse, that she was being watched while she stared. She forced a smile and held out her hand. ‘Seldyan,’ she said.
‘Patras. Welcome to Oblong. Has anyone said that yet?’
The voice was astonishingly deep. She thought for a moment. ‘No, I don’t think so. I expect they meant it, even so. You’re the new Supervisor?’
He smiled, and gave a shallow bow which brought his head down almost to her waist. ‘I am. In role for five days so far. Do you know, nobody has even tried to assassinate me?’ Then he straightened up. ‘And you’re the newest best hope. I expect nobody’s said that yet either?’
She looked at him for a long time. Then she said, quietly, ‘Whose newest best hope?’
The single eye flashed. She saw amusement, and something else. ‘What a good question. It’s, ah, noisy here. Would you and your colleagues like to go somewhere else?’
She looked briefly around the circle of faces. The others had found her; they nodded slightly. Everyone else was watching. Although no one else was speaking, she realized Patras was right. It felt noisy.
She turned back to Patras. ‘That would be fine,’ she said.
To her great relief, somewhere else turned out to be blessedly underground. They sat on a couch that formed three quarters of a circle, with a low round table at its centre. The drinks and finger foods on the table were much better than the ones at the reception. She looked around and felt herself relax a little. She saw Patras smiling.
‘I feel the same,’ he said. ‘After a while even I can have too much wide open space and grand planetscape.’
Seldyan nodded. ‘How many people live on them?’
‘None.’ She looked at him sharply and he shrugged. ‘They’re very pretty but humans can’t survive on them. Scrappy engineering – their atmospheres have leaked away. They need re-terraforming.’
‘Can you do that?’
‘We hope to, soon.’
‘Oh.’ Then something occurred to her. ‘All the views point towards those planets. Not towards the Web, or the Arch. Is it right the Arch is less than five years old?’
‘Yes.’ The answer was even shorter than the single word should have been.
‘How did it happen?’
Patras was quiet for a moment. Then he smiled again, but Seldyan thought it looked a lot less like a smile this time. ‘I’ll pass on that just now. Tell me about this ship you’ve brought us.’
Seldyan stiffened. She felt Merish’s fingers on hers again. She clasped them for a second and then deliberately moved her hand away. She hadn’t needed the warning.
‘The ship brought us,’ she said carefully, ‘but we haven’t brought it. Not to anyone. Not yet.’
To her surprise Patras stood up and bowed. ‘Quite right. I apologize. I was being presumptuous.’ He sat down again and added, ‘The least I can hope is that you will stay for a while; long enough to form a favourable opinion of us. After all, you came here for a reason. And I have – reasons – for being glad to see you.’
It had been the tiniest of pauses, but Seldyan was sure she had heard it. She glanced at the others, and their faces told her they had heard it too.
Suddenly Seldyan felt on far more comfortable ground. She understood people who had their backs to the wall. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. ‘Mr Supervisor? Is there something you want to tell us about?’
‘Perhaps. Has anyone said anything to you about the Green Star?’
She frowned. Then realization dawned, and she traced a spot above her left eye.
‘That’s right. I think …’ He smiled briefly. Then he stood up. Even fully upright, his eyes were little higher than hers were, seated. ‘I think I’m being doubly presumptuous. It’s late. Look, this suite is yours for as long as you want it. There are guest rooms off it. Take a look round. Relax, and we’ll meet again tomorrow. Some other people will want their turn with you too. The Oblong management is called the City Fathers. We’re meeting tomorrow; we’d like you to drop in.’ Another micro-pause. ‘Maybe tonight you could watch some screen. Check out all the news channels. We’re an interesting bunch.’
His gaze swept them. Then he gave the sketch of a bow, turned, and walked out of the chamber.
They looked at each other. Lyste raised her eyebrows. ‘What was that about?’
K
ot opened her mouth, but Seldyan shook her head and nodded down towards her hands. She touched the tip of her little finger against the ball of her opposite thumb. Hive talk: keep quiet, not safe. They widened their eyes.
Then Lyste shrugged. ‘Watch screen and eat snacks? That’s not so hard.’ She shoved aside some of the snacks on the table and found a cluster of control patches. A screen blurred into being above the far end of the table.
‘I guess not.’ Seldyan watched as the channels flicked and settled. Then she sat up and stabbed a finger at the screen. ‘Hey, give us audio!’
Lyste did things to the table top.
‘… arrival of the last legacy Main Battle Unit earlier today under the control of a Hive breakout crew …’
The screen cut from the image of a newscaster to a view of the ship. Seldyan felt her mouth dropping open. She closed it quickly.
Next to her, Merish drew in a breath. ‘Oh shit that’s big. I mean, obviously I knew that, but seeing it …’
Seldyan nodded, keeping her eyes on the screen.
‘… five crew are currently resting on Oblong after a short reception and a private meeting with Supervisor Patras. So far he’s not said anything in public but sources say we should expect to hear more tomorrow. Meanwhile the ship, which by the way has been renamed “Suck on This” by its new crew, is standing off at what we’re told is a safe distance. We are joined now by Kaster Xhood. Kas, just how big is this thing and why does it have to stay so far away?’
The image of a middle-aged male appeared just in front of the screen. It smiled out at them and then turned to gesture at the ship, which appeared to be just behind it.
‘Well, first, it doesn’t have to stay out there. It can do pretty well what it likes. It’s huge, agreed, but we’ve seen others of the same class before. What sets it apart is not only its size, and not even that it’s been re-armed; again, that’s not new. What is new is that the ship is fully awake. These big old ships were lobotomized when they were taken out of military service. Uniquely as far as we know, this one has had that reversed.’
‘So it’s big, powerful, well-armed and smart, is that right?’
‘It is, and how.’ Kaster turned back to the audience. ‘Let’s be thankful it’s happy to stay out there until the crew are ready to talk.’
Seldyan turned to Lyste. ‘Turn them down, please.’
The audio faded and the image of the ship froze. Seldyan went on looking at it.
Merish cleared his throat. ‘What are you thinking?’
Seldyan decided she didn’t care if they were being monitored or not. ‘I’m thinking that there is no way I’m handing that ship over to anyone until I know exactly what I’m getting in return. Besides, it’s not just us, right? There’s all the rest of the Hivers as well.’ She managed to look away from the screen. ‘Everyone? Agree?’
They nodded. Then Kot sat up. ‘Hey, Lyste, is this the only news channel?’
Lyste stared at the display. ‘Seems to be.’
Kot shook her head. ‘That can’t be right. Otherwise why did Patras say we should check out all of them?’
Seldyan looked sharply at Merish. He was already crouching next to Lyste. Without looking up he said, ‘There are other news channels. Dozens. They just don’t show up on this menu.’
‘So use other menus.’
‘If I can find them. It looks like they don’t want to be found.’
‘Really?’ Seldyan sat back. ‘Censorship, do you think?’
He looked up at her. ‘Now why would you say that?’
‘Just suspicious. Come on, what’s taking you so long? You rehabilitated a brain-damaged warship. How hard can it be to hack a news channel?’
‘As hard as the news channel – or whoever – wants to make it. It’s harder if I have to talk.’ His fingers danced on the controls, paused, danced. ‘Ah-ha …’
The screen flickered. The still image of the ship greyed out and words appeared over it.
Premium channels unlocked. This service will be charged to the Executive Suite, Oblong Gate. Continue?
The word continue blinked. Merish looked at Seldyan, his eyebrows raised.
She grinned. ‘We’re escaped slaves, remember? We don’t understand about money. Besides, this is Patras’s suite and he said we should.’ And no doubt he’s listening, she thought.
Merish nodded. ‘It would be rude not to.’ He tapped the panel and the word continue stopped blinking.
Suddenly they had over fifty news channels to choose from, all the way from slick full-studio productions right down to fuzzy hand-cams.
They sat transfixed. Apparently the world was not as they had thought.
Seldyan woke sometime in the small hours with her heart dancing to the tune of far too much to drink the night before. She lay on her back and breathed deeply until it calmed a little.
There was someone else breathing; Merish lay next to her. His own breathing was soft and slow. She stayed still, just letting her hand rest very gently against his hip. He didn’t stir. She managed to feel sorry and glad, both at once. She rode the conflict for a few seconds, then focused elsewhere.
Her head felt thick, but her brain was still working. All too well – it was full of pictures.
When they were approaching Oblong she had looked at the Web and seen – well, what? A frontier town? A peace camp? Something hopeful.
She shook her head. She should have seen the biggest refugee camp in the history of the Spin. The Web was a growing crowd of people who thought they had left their problems behind, and who had woken up in the new world with the same problems, plus the new ones of being short of food, space and opportunity.
They had watched the screen in silence as violence unfolded. After a while some sort of pattern had emerged.
The riots weren’t everywhere, although that’s what it looked like if you channel-hopped. They were focused around a particular local conflict. Hufsza had noticed it first. He had pointed at the screen with an arm like a thigh and said, ‘Hey – those guys? Remember the religious they sent to meet us? Same robes, see?’
He was right. They watched, and listened to commentaries. They tried to access social but that was beyond even Merish, up here.
It was about an election for something called a District Collector. Seldyan wasn’t sure what one of those did, if anything, but the new Collector wore robes and had a green spot above his eye. Anyone who had a robe and a green spot – and there were plenty – was celebrating. Everyone else – and there were even more – was angry.
Finally they had found a commentary that made sense. They listened carefully.
‘On the face of it, what’s to object to?’ The young woman raised her eyebrows. ‘The Green Star won their freedom-of-religion point, so they can establish themselves wherever they want. They established an Order in Phhol. If they did so just ten days before the closure of nominations for the Collector election, so what? They’re religious, they tell us. They’re above all that grubby politics stuff.’ She grinned, and then stopped grinning. ‘Except that they managed to put up a candidate. Except that they invited ten thousand of their followers to the opening ceremony of the Order and except that, what do you know, they all liked the place so much they decided to stay. And, of course, register to vote – which they were perfectly entitled to do. The rest, you know.’ She paused, and glanced behind her. The riots were over for the moment, but the square she stood in was still full of people who looked discontented. Then she looked straight at the camera. ‘It’s all over bar the shouting, according to some people, but I have another guess. Remember that it’s election season. Another District Collector in Kresev tomorrow. Two more in the next five days. And, as if you could forget, Oblong City Fathers ten days away. And what do you know? The Green Star are fielding candidates for all of them. Better get ready to have your souls saved, willing or not. This is The Other Blog, signing off.’
Merish leaned forward and switched off the channel. ‘Well,’ he said.
>
Seldyan nodded. ‘Well.’
There was silence for a while. Then Kot drew in a breath. ‘So, maybe the new world’s a bit troubled. Is that a problem?’
Seldyan slapped a hand down on the table. ‘Be fucked with troubled. Politics, arguments, election fixing – that’s freedom, right? That’s why we’re here. If that’s troubled, fine. What bothers me is secrets.’
Merish nodded slowly. ‘Missing channels?’
‘Damn right. So, who knew they were missing? Who are they missing from? Who made them go missing?’ She slapped the table again, harder. ‘Shit, I hate it when people fuck about with my ambitions.’
Lyste’s toy clicked twice. ‘Not just your ambitions,’ she said quietly.
‘Right.’ Seldyan stared at nothing for a second, then made up her mind. ‘So, three things. First, I want to understand about these green-smudge people. What’s in it for them, and is it a problem for us? Second, how did the Arch happen? Patras blanked that one. Third, I want to get drunk, but I want to do that first.’
They got very drunk, and then they slept, and now she was lying next to Merish.
She often was. It had been complicated, for a long time. At the beginning she knew it was him that had needed her. Somewhere along the way that seemed to have got swapped around.
After the thing with the Hive Supervisor, Seldyan had been allowed to move back into the general dormitory for a while, before they sent her to the Village. Somehow she preferred being part of a crowd. It made it easier to be solitary, and solitary was exactly what she wanted.
The rooms were gender segregated, but only to the extent that they were divided in two by a central partition with female-equivalents on one side and male-equivalents on the other. Seldyan had never questioned the nuances of the terms; the Spin had more tricks up its sleeve than purely male or purely female but a line could usually be drawn.
An hour into the night cycle, something disturbed her – a quick dull tinkle like something delicate being smashed as quietly as possible. She sat up and listened.
Iron Gods Page 10
