by Kate Elliott
Kyosti recoiled from the movement. “Nothing. It’s worth nothing to me. Leave me alone with what little I have managed to build out of the wreckage.” His voice was hard.
“Ah, I see.” Yi examined Kyosti, his face alive with curiosity. His tongue touched his lips three times. “You seek to escape your past by denying it.” His left hand brushed at the sticks on the tray, gathered them into his palm, tossed them, traced them.
Kyosti took another step back, almost stepping into Yehoshua.
“I see the abyss.” The grim surety of his voice did not change the expression of lively curiosity on his face. “‘His endeavors will lead him into the cavern of the pit.’ You had do better to strive for wholeness.”
“Leave me alone.” Kyosti’s voice was so soft that Lily could barely hear him.
Yi smiled, ironic and pitiless. “I think it likely that I had far better fear you than you fear me, since you do not. It is the truth you fear.” He lifted the vial again. “I will pay you whatever is in my power to pay. Once the hunt is blooded, we will return to League space. Clearly there is no booty worth our while here.” He paused, gauging Kyosti’s reaction. “Passage back?”
Kyosti shook his head emphatically. “You don’t have the entire equation, Yi. That doesn’t tempt me.”
Yi considered this thoughtfully. “It may indeed be true that I lack certain bits of vital information. It is a small enough thing to ask of you, Hawk. I need only to know if you have come across the quarry in your wanderings.”
Kyosti hesitated, and Lily could see some debate warring inside him that manifested itself by no larger gesture than the clenching and unclenching of his right hand.
“Your honor,” chided Yi. “Abai’is-ssa. For your mother’s memory, at least.”
Kyosti reached out and grabbed the vial. Unstoppered it and, in a movement made stranger by the complete lack of self-consciousness with which he did it, he lifted it to his lips and then simply breathed carefully and deeply, as if he were intent on its smell.
After some moments he lowered it, stoppered it, and handed it back to Yi. His face was now clear of expression. “Yes. On La Belle’s ship.”
Yi did not reply for a moment. “Difficult,” he said finally, musing, “but even La Belle must honor a hunt. Where did you meet her?”
Kyosti reeled off a string of numbers that Lily could not follow. “But that was over two League years ago,” he added.
Yi smiled again. He looked pleased. “If it was simple, it would not be a challenge, would it? Why do you think I allowed my vessel to be called out?”
“I can’t imagine,” Kyosti said sarcastically. “Your magnanimous nature, undoubtedly. I think we may as well go now. You have what you want.”
“But you have neglected your payment. I cannot”—Yi paused, repeated the word emphatically—“cannot let a debt go unpaid.”
Kyosti shook his head impatiently. “I said I don’t want anything—” As he began to turn away, he caught sight of Yehoshua, standing perplexed but alert behind him. Kyosti smiled abruptly, a brief chuckle. “Look at that thing,” he continued, pointing to the artificial arm strapped to Yehoshua’s left shoulder. “That is the most obscene excuse for medical rehabilitation I have ever seen.”
Yi raised his winged eyebrows. “Come here, man,” he said in a voice Yehoshua did not choose to disobey. Yi reached out and felt the arm from the hooks at its tip to the straps at its base. “Inept and primitive, certainly,” he agreed without expression.
“How can you tell from that kind of examination?” Lily demanded.
“It is true that I lack sight, but do not, therefore, underestimate my other senses. Or your own, indeed. As Hawk knows.” He waved Yehoshua back and turned to regard Kyosti with his uncanny, sightless gaze. “You wish?”
“Replace it,” said Kyosti. “With your best prosthetic.”
“If I may speak—” began Yehoshua, exchanging a startled glance with his cousin.
“Yehoshua,” cut in Lily, “if I were you, I’d take it.” The clear decisiveness in her voice convinced him, and he subsided into a watchful silence.
Yi tapped on the console keyboard, waited, seeming to listen to some voice no one else could hear.
“It would take a watch week, at minimum,” he said at last. “That covers only fitting and grafting and the elementary fitness testing. Any further care and rehabilitation would have to be completed under your care.”
Yehoshua chuckled. “Well, I certainly trust comrade Hawk’s care. But we would have to talk to the Commander.”
“I’ll talk to Callioux,” said Lily, forestalling Kyosti’s reply.
Yi frowned. “It will mean delay …”
“But it is my price,” finished Kyosti sweetly. He lifted a hand to touch his hair. An almost furtive expression marked his face for a moment. “And I’ll need some specialized equipment,” he added, like an afterthought.
Yi’s eyebrows arced, a question. “Will you, indeed?”
“For monitoring his condition, of course,” Kyosti continued a bit too quickly. He glanced at Lily, measuring something in his own mind, then carefully returned his gaze to Yi.
“As you say,” agreed Yi, and smiled a curiously premonitory smile.
11 Franklin’s Cairn
THE CAIRN REMAINED IN contiguous orbit with Bleak House Station for three full fleet weeks. Callioux agreed, after a brief but obligatory, and scathing, denunciation of Lily’s presumption in giving orders without permission, to Yehoshua’s surgery, and sent on two of his six ships to a further post, expecting to follow them once Yehoshua returned.
But before full preparations could be made to depart, a small merchanter arrived ostensibly for trade and abruptly Callioux announced a delay. Yehoshua came back and was immediately sequestered in Medical, seeing only Kyosti, Callioux, his cousin, and the duty techs, all of whom refused to elaborate. Kyosti told Lily only that he was pleased, if a bit unprepared to deal with a prosthetic of such sophistication. Rumors of all sorts swept the crew deck. None could be substantiated.
“What do you think?” Lily asked Jenny at the end of the third week. They sat in the corridor common room on one of the uncomfortable benches that lined the walls.
Jenny did not answer for a moment, and Lily followed the line of her gaze. At one of the near tables her son Gregori stood at Paisley’s shoulder, peering with a seven-year-old’s intense concentration at the Ridani game of colored sticks and dice that she was playing with Pinto, Kyosti, and Rainbow. At the table next to them, the Mule painstakingly taught the intermediate elements of bissterlas to Aliasing; although it treated Lily with reserved respect, the Mule remained aloof toward everyone else except Paisley, whom it treated with a restrained tolerance that it had only recently begun to extend tentatively toward Lia.
“It’s sweet of Paisley to help Lia and me care for Gregori,” said Jenny at last, musing. “And you, of course. Otherwise we’d never cover our duty.”
“Don’t thank me,” Lily replied quickly. “Actually, this past two months Kyosti of all people has been spending time with him, letting him tag along to Medical.”
Jenny looked surprised, then chuckled. “So that’s it. Lately he’s been coming home full of peculiar facts and stories and questions I can’t answer. And he keeps saying that he’s being tutored. I thought he’d snuck into some higher level education program in the computer. I’ll have to thank Hawk.”
Lily grinned briefly. “Please do. It will discompose him.”
“Will it?” Jenny asked with interest. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him discomposed. Well”—she paused—“except for those two times with Finch.”
“Finch,” Lily declared with exasperation. “That’s what I was asking you about. Callioux has refused all three of my requests that Finch be transferred to another ship. I told Bach to switch from shadowing Hawk to sticking close to Finch. Then he can at least alert me. And possibly stun Hawk—but you wouldn’t have seen that. I just don’t know what else t
o do.”
Jenny considered this while keeping her gaze on her son, who had reached past Paisley to roll the three dice for her. “I honestly don’t know,” she answered at last. “Given that you’re determined to keep Hawk with you. You’re using what resources you have to cover as much ground as possible. Beyond quarantining one of them—or forcing it to a controlled resolution—”
“I have thought of that,” Lily agreed, “but I’m not ready yet. I have yet to figure out how to set up a confrontation that I can control completely. Especially with Hawk.”
“Yes.” Jenny shifted her gaze to Hawk as he sat perfectly at ease with the three Ridanis, playing a game with them that by tradition only Ridanis were supposed to know. “I thought that sticks game was sacred, or something. Why does he know it?”
Lily shrugged. “They’re letting Gregori watch.”
“Yes, but just watch if any adults go near, or show too much interest. Have you spoken to Finch anymore about Hawk?”
“Only a bit. I never have time to see him, partly because his duty schedule is so carefully set up to match Hawk’s, and partly because he won’t come here when he is free.”
“Can you blame him, Lily-hae?”
Gregori clapped his hands in excitement as some roll of sticks or dice came up in his—or at least in Paisley’s—favor.
“I’m not sure it’s entirely because of Hawk,” said Lily. “He still won’t speak to any Ridanis unless he has to.”
“That’s not so different from a lot of Jehane’s troops. You know very well that it’s a shock to most of these people that Jehane has enlisted tattoos as regular comrades at all. Even if most of the Ridanis are in separate companies, still—it rankles a lot of the soldiers. Finch isn’t so different.”
“He ought to be,” retorted Lily hotly. “I expected better of him. I always thought he was so easygoing, so good-natured. But on the other hand, when did we ever see Ridanis at Ransome House? There may have been some mines that employed them for the worst work. I don’t know. But most jobs weren’t open to Ridanis on Unruli. And if you weren’t tied into one of the House mines, or to the university or the city offices, you had no access to living quarters, which were a true necessity on Unruli. We just never saw them, growing up.”
“Then you ought to understand why Finch could be prejudiced.”
“Except it doesn’t mean you have to be,” said Lily harshly. “Having nothing personal against them. That was one thing the Sar never tolerated at table: Any kind of ignorant prejudice.”
“Just informed ones?” Jenny shook her head. “Did he ever try to hire Ridanis?”
“No,” Lily admitted. “I don’t think he did. But he made it clear to his children that you have to judge an individual on her own merits, rather than on any preconceived idea.” Now her gaze moved to the Mule. Jenny, looking with her, nodded slightly. “Yes,” finished Lily. “Too bad it’s not as easy in practice as in theory. What do you think Callioux’s got on the screen, anyway?”
“Void take me,” said Jenny with a sigh. “I just had this one out last night with the other form leaders. I don’t want to go over it again.”
Lily laughed. “All right. Then how about Yehoshua? What do you think Yi’s people strapped to his arm? A laser cannon?”
“Speak of the Void, and it enters,” said Jenny abruptly, her eyes lifting to the far wall. “There he is.”
Preceded by his cousin, Yehoshua had indeed entered the common room. He halted to survey the occupants. Most had not noticed him yet—many, in any case, did not know him—and as his gaze found Lily he smiled and walked across toward her.
“I don’t see anything different—” began Jenny.
She stopped as Lily gasped.
Indeed, there was nothing different. Yehoshua held a thin screen in one hand; the other hung relaxed at his side, swinging as he walked. He had two hands, two arms: perfectly normal.
Kyosti glanced up, not with surprise, but more to mark Yehoshua’s passage and acknowledge it with a brief nod. Other people glanced at him noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Rainbow stopped playing and stared, an action that attracted Gregori’s attention. Alsayid merely grinned.
“Comrade Heredes. Comrade Seria.” Yehoshua halted before the two women with a smile. He was clearly pleased with himself, and enjoying their consternation.
“Let me see that,” Lily demanded.
He held his right arm out for her. She took the hand, touched the arm, and made a face.
“Stop trying to fool me. The artificial one.”
He shrugged, still smiling, and offered her the other arm.
“No,” said Lily after a moment, “it was the right one that was amputated. Hoy.”
“Damn my eyes,” breathed Jenny. “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life.”
Yehoshua was not, however, inclined to gloat. “Comrade Heredes,” he said as he detached his hand from her incredulous, and apparently paralyzed, grasp. “I’m actually here to call you to a staff meeting with Comrade Officer Callioux.”
“When?” asked Lily.
“Now. This time it’s not a false alarm: we have an assignment.” He smiled with relish, closing and unclosing his false hand that was as real to touch and sight as his true one. “Action at last.”
Callioux had already lit up the table in the tac room when Lily and Yehoshua arrived. Three officers from other ships came in after them. Yehoshua leaned on the edge of the tac table, examining the array of lights beneath the surface that represented the placement of systems surrounding the Cairn’s current position. Lily, with a last glance at Yehoshua’s right hand, moved to stand beside her fellow officers in training and waited.
The tac officer finished entering information into the table’s computer and stepped back to let Callioux into the control console. Callioux surveyed the group—about sixteen people—before reconfiguring the display on screen and beginning to speak.
“This model shows approximately the plus x, minus y, plus z oct of Reft space. The red point represents Bleak House.” A white light dutifully started to blink red. “Now I’ll expand perspective to include the entire plus z duo of the grid. Central, as you know, rests at null. The two blue points of light”—they switched over—“represent Salah-eh-Din, and Tollgate. Jehane has clear control of Tollgate and all points beyond and passive—undercover—control of Salah-eh-Din. Now”—Callioux paused, reading each face in turn before continuing—“we begin to encircle. Our first goal: To control all windows into and out of Salah-eh-Din. With Salah-eh-Din and Tollgate in our hands, Jehane basically controls the major vector routes throughout the plus z duo.” A second pause as Callioux widened the perspective to include the entire grid of Reft space.
“Not counting Arcadia at null,” commented Yehoshua into the hush, “there are only two major agricultural planets in the minus z duo: Dairy and Blessings.”
Lily lifted one hand slightly, catching Callioux’s attention. “Dairy isn’t that productive, comrade. It supplies its own sector, but as far as I remember from school, exports very little outside of that.”
Callioux offered the group a brief smile. “Exactly. The pressure builds on Arcadia. Blessings and Dairy then begin to look vulnerable. In any case”—the grid shrank back to focus on the plus-minus-plus oct—“we are moving out in six hours for Landfall.”
A kind of collective, unvoiced gasp caught in the throats of the officers present.
“I thought that was garrisoned. Heavily.” A voice from the back.
“It was. We have just received word that a diversion planned and led by Jehane personally is on schedule at Bukharin, which as you see has routes out through Landfall and past the sta homeworld to Tollgate. This diversion will pull off a large proportion of the Landfall garrison, who will believe Jehane is beginning an attack on the vector ring that circles Arcadia.”
“But what if the diversion fails?”
“There are two back doors out of Bukharin, both of which immediately branch. It
’s a fairly safe feint for the attacker, and a dangerous ambush for Central’s forces. So”—on the grid, Landfall system grew until a planet turned beneath them, lines tracing two small continents marked with two large cities on their surface—“we move in and destroy all the ground emplacements and garrison housing. The two converted merchanters will dock at Landfall Station—which is, as you see, an orbiter—forcibly evacuate the hub, and destroy the second wheel”—the grid narrowed into an image of Station, with its slow rotation blocking their view of star by distant star in turns—“which houses the garrison’s regional command. Then we leave.”
Callioux waited while the officers examined the screen and murmured comments back and forth. Eventually they subsided and returned their attention to their commander.
“This is strictly a strike. We are not establishing any zone of control. We hit, and leave. Landfall will be crippled for months—we estimate three months—which will give us time to cinch a noose around it and cut it off completely without worrying about its capabilities.”
“What about Central?” asked Yehoshua. “Surely they can send out reinforcements from Arcadia.”
“When they hear about it. We’ll be gone by then.”
Lily, studying the curve of Landfall as it turned on the screen, thought again through the grid of the region, and moved forward to put a hand down on the edge of the table. “What about the sta?” she asked.
Callioux nodded. “The sta are neutral in this conflict. Trade will continue to pass through the routes they oversee as long as no fighting occurs. Any other questions?”
There were none.
“Very well. Assignments. We’ll start with the ground assault, divided into teams Alpha and Veeta. Team Alpha will run in three groups. Comrade Officer Yehoshua will lead Group One; Comrade Officer Sgambati, Two; and comrade Heredes, Three. Your destination: This city, called Scarce. The ground emplacements there are strong enough that you may run into fire on approach, but we expect to have thrown Landfall’s forces into confusion by our quick destruction of their space command. Team Veeta will be in two groups …”
