reason given beyond a veneration of the original
designers.
'Right, Jiang,' Kao Chih said, lifting his goggles to
catch a glimpse of the main console's powerflow dis-
play, then it was back to the rainbow data-forms of
gauge 7. 'It's radial pair nine in the crystal array - you'll
need to rebalance it by three increments ...'
'Okay ... is that it?'
'Just a moment - yes, Jiang, perfect.' He grinned. 'I'll
buy the ch'a when we get back to the Mountain.'
'That is very noble of you,' said Jiang. 'And who
knows - I might have time to finish it before we go out
again!'
Chih laughed as he tugged off the goggles. After
docking, the copilot always had a longer journey to the
airlock as his monitor station was near the core of the
tug, which left him with a significantly shorter break
than the chief pilot.
The remaining hour and a half of the Biaolong's
ascent was uneventful. Once the tug was clear of the
upper atmosphere, Chih opened the cabin viewport's
shutters and gazed out at the sullen, roiling face of
V'Harant while the headrest played old, poignant syn-
thesiser motifs softly in the background. From this
altitude the turbulent globe did suggest a place of tor-
ment like Di-Yu; Great-Aunt Mei once had scandalised
Kao Chih's mother and father by saying that V'Harant
might even be a Chamber of Hell reserved for those
who betrayed friends and family, abandoning them to
ruthless enemies. The elder Kao's rebuke had been calm
and measured, reminding her of how their forebears had
been forced to flee destruction twice, firstly aboard the
Tenebrosa when she and her sister ships fled the Swarm,
and secondly when Hegemony mercenaries attacked
their settlement on Pyre. He also pointed out that the
ignoble character of her comments was a disservice
towards the sept's collective sorrow.
'Our sorrow?' Great-Aunt Mei had retorted. 'How
do our trials compare with the bitter, wretched misery of
the thousands who were left behind, and that of their
children and their children's children? Deng Guo was a
fool to lead us off into the fog-between-stars - if my
father's father had been elected duizbang of the
Retributor the sept would have sought out allies, not
ended up here, indentured to cruel aliens...'
Which was what such arguments about the past usually
came down to - the flight from Pyre and how Great-Aunt
Mei's grandfather would have made a better duizbang, or
captain. Kao Chih suspected that he would have been no
better, or possibly worse if Mei was any guide to her fore-
bear's temperament. In any case, the 1,500-strong Human
Sept's contract of indenture still had thirty-two years to
run, after which they would be permitted to contact Earth
and appeal for assistance for both themselves and the
colonists on Pyre, if any remained alive by then. One hun-
dred and ten years of servitude and silence, that was the
price the Roug had asked in exchange for sanctuary from
Suneye, the Hegemony-based corporate monoclan which
had seized Pyre for its resources.
Outside the pilot cabin, great cyclonic systems the
colour of tilled earth moved slowly across the face of
V'Harant. Kao Chih could see how an observer might
consider it to be a place of punishment, yet in truth that
was where the great floating cities of the Roug lay,
shrouded by planetary storms in a system veiled by vast
interstellar streams and clouds of dust and debris, the
fog-between-stars which the Roug called Ydred. He
smiled sardonically - anyone would think that they had
something to hide.
The Roug name for their main orbital was Agmedra'a
but the humans called it the Mountain. It had a wide,
roughly circular base from which clusters of refineries,
silos, labs, yardfacs and residential structures rose, close-
packed and tapering towards the apex. A shining,
glittering spire in the full light of the sun, Busrul, or a
conical mass of lights, beacons, and decorative holos
when in the planet's shadow, as it was now. The glowing
motes of hopcraft and other maintenance drones darted
among the towers while the great, slow silhouettes of
freighters came and went.
But the upper reaches of the Mountain were closed to
all members of Human Sept, who were restricted to the
sublevels and the underdocks where they seldom
encountered any crewmembers from visiting ships. Kao
Chih guided the huge mass of the Biaolong into the
embrace of a pair of mooring booms, which latched on,
drawing it and its underslung cargo into the gloom of a
large docking bay. Already unstrapped from the couch,
Chih grabbed his ageing black jacket, told Jiang he
would have the ch'a hot and ready for him in the can-
teen, then headed out and along to the personnel
airlock.
The metal decking quivered slightly underfoot.
Muffled thuds signalled the decoupling of the six huge
ore containers that hung beneath the gravity-tug. As he
approached the big airlock he heard clanks and the
rough hum of motors, a moment's wait and the hatch
opened with a brief pressure sigh accompanied by the
smell of hot oil. It was normally a short walk along the
dockside concourse to the tug-crew operations hall but
as soon as he stepped out of the sinuous connecting tube
a familiar voice called out his name in Mandarin.
'Pilot Kao Chih!'
Turning, he was surprised to see the tall, spindly form
of a Roug approaching. Members of other indenture
septs - furred Gomedra, six-limbed Bargalil and birdlike
Kiskashin - hastened about their own tasks, careful to
stay out of the Roug's path. Like all its kind, it was
swathed from head to foot in tight windings of what
looked like thin leather that gleamed with a dull coppery
sheen. The legs were thin, the feet flat and toeless, and
the long arms had two elbows and nine-fingered hands,
but it was the silvery badges on the conoid head that
confirmed its identity.
'Noble Tumakri,' Kao Chih said. 'Unusual to see you
out here.' Tumakri was assistant overseer of tug-crew
assignments, and thus seldom seen outside the opera-
tions hall.
'Not usual, Pilot Kao Chih, but necessary!' The
Roug's voice had a whispery, papery quality and came
from the wrappings just below the almond-shaped
meshes that protected its eyes. 'Special assessors have
arrived from Chissu'ol, the reigning city on V'Harant,
bearing edicts from the High Index - a Conclave of
Purpose is to be held aboard your sept's chief vessel,
and you are to be present.'
The sounds of the busy dockside washed around
them as Kao Chih stood in astonishment for a moment.
'Me, Noble One? They wish me back on the Retributor?
Must I depart soon?'
&
nbsp; 'Immediately, Pilot. A hopcraft is waiting in a nearby
rectifier dock and I am to accompany you and deliver
you safely to the conclave. Another pilot will take your
place aboard the Biaolong but you will still be credited
for a full shift.' The Roug made an odd shrugging
gesture. 'This, I confess, is unheard of, unprecedented,
yet we must comply. Please follow me, pilot.'
So I get a paid half-day off and a trip to the
Retributor} he thought, grinning as he hurried after the
Roug. Why not}
The hopcraft was small and cramped and had the
unclean fur smell of the Gomedran techs who usually
flew it and others like it. The rectifier dock's mooring
booms flung the little maintenance boat out of the
underhull where Kao Chih's companion ignited the reac-
tion motors and set course. The Retributor's orbit kept
it in the vicinity of the orbital Agmedra'a and it took less
than half an hour for a bright pinpoint to grow into the
grey, irregular, pockmarked shape that he knew so well.
The Retributor had originally been one of a family of
asteroids that orbited Pyre. After landfall, the colony-
ship Tenebrosa was cannibalised into a number of small
vessels and soon after that one of the asteroids was
chosen as an orbital platform for planetary survey and
as a base for mining operations. Decades later, after the
first probing attack by the Suneye mercantilists, the star
drive from the hulk of the Tenebrosa was hauled up
into orbit and mounted on the adapted asteroid, then
simply called the Rockhab. In the end, however, the
mercantilists had returned with a force of mercenaries so
overwhelming that the Rockhab's captain, Deng Guo's,
only choice was surrender or flight.
And here we are, he thought as the ugly, retrofitted
mass of the Retributor drifted closer. Dispossessed
twice over, trapped by the Roug contract, confined to
certain areas of Agmedra'a and the core mines, but at
least we're still alive.
The Retributor's exterior was littered with protruding
structures, coolant pipes and vanes, vents, bot hutches,
antennae clusters, hatches, loading bays and hardpoint
where defensive weapons had apparently once been
mounted. Kao Chih knew that encrusted carapace,
knew the inner geography that lay beneath those untidy
features. Then he noticed that Tumakri was staring
fixedly out at the Rockhab.
'Tell me, Pilot Kao Chih - is your sept's homevessel
safe?'
Chih gave a small smile. 'Well, I have to admit, Noble
One, that seal repairs are permanently ongoing, the
airscrubbers always need purging, and the grav-decking
can be a little uneven in places, yet 1,500 of my people
are happy to make their home there. They work hard at
keeping it safe.'
'A candid reply, Pilot. I am reassured by your words.'
Kao Chih nodded and went back to studying the
Retributor, wondering if the grapple squads had fixed
the ruptured fuel lines yet.
They docked at the new loading bay, so called
because it had been added soon after the Indenture, as
opposed to the old loading bay, which had been part of
the original facility. Stepping down from the hopcraft's
hatch, they were confronted with another two Roug,
both adorned with silvery hooked sigils attached to their
necks. To Kao Chih's surprise, his companion hastily
bowed to each in turn, which Chih was quick to emu-
late. There followed a brief exchange in the rapid,
polysyllabic Roug tongue, which was never taught to
other races, after which one of the senior Roug
addressed Chih.
'Pilot Kao Chih - we are Assessors of the High Index
and are commanded to escort you and Overseer
Tumakri to the decision chambers of your elders, where
certain materials will be examined.'
Kao Chih swallowed nervously as he went with them
to the bay's main arched entryway. This all seemed
much more serious than he had first thought. Had he
unknowingly infringed the terms of the Indenture, or
perhaps been careless when casting off from the core
mines down on V'Harant? Had he left a trail of wreck-
age behind him, and were they about to show a
recording of it to the Duizhang, K'ang Lo, and the other
elders?
No way to know, he thought, grasping at a straw of
hope. Too soon to be sure.
From the high plascrete curves of the loading bay
and its busy unshipping carrels, they passed into a semi-
circular lobby. Rounded openings led off, up, down and
sideways, and without hesitation the leading Roug
assessor headed for one of the downward exits.
The Retributor was honeycombed with tunnels and
chambers of every size which provided its occupants
with necessities and amenities. As Kao Chih followed
the Roug into the dim, biobulb-lit passageway known as
Shang Street, it was the cooking smells that leaped upon
his senses first, as always. No matter the shift, there was
usually someone somewhere steaming vegetables,
baking bread or whipping up a spiced stirfry. It was the
essence of home, of normality, of an unexciting ordi-
nariness which right then he longed for. The presence of
the Roug, however, was anything but ordinary. Eyes,
some amazed, some fearful, some fascinated to see Kao
Chih in the company of aliens, followed their progress,
heads craned out of doors and windows for a look and
mouths whispered once they were past. This was an
event, a source of gossip that would, he knew, be refined
and refashioned endlessly over the next few days. Who
could tell what they might be saying about him in a
week!
For a stretch Shang Street's right-hand wall looked
out through a line of louvred windows and down into
Many-Voices Hall, the Rockhab's main marketplace and
gathering hub. As he walked Chih caught sight of some
familiar places, the Steel Dragon teahouse, Cho Lai's
repair shop, and the small balcony where Old Mother
Yao gave I-Ching readings. Part of him wished he was
down there, but in truth he was glad that none of his
friends could witness his shame.
Before long they reached the administration and
command levels, quiet, carpeted corridors where
amber-suited assistants hurried serenely on errands,
and where the walls and ceilings emitted a pearly,
ambient light. After turning a couple of corners they
came face to face with two guards standing either side
of a wooden door. On it were the five symbols of the
Pyre colony - a tree, a bear, an open scroll, two crossed
spears, and at the centre the t'ai chi, each one beauti-
fully carved and inlaid with silver from the regalia of
the original colonyship, the Tenebrosa. That was
because it led to the Duizhang, K'ang Lo's, strategy
room.
This is it, he thought as the guard stood aside and
the
Roug assessors led them in.
It was worse than he had feared. The eyes of more
than three dozen formally attired people looked round
at the newcomers and Kao Chih realised that everyone
of consequence was present, clan elders, duty directors,
command staff, and his father, Kao Hsien. In the back-
ground, rows of empty chairs waited.
I'm doomed, he thought, resigned to fate - until he
saw a certain look in his father's eyes, the kind he wore
when he knew that a game of wei-chi was his ...
'Ah, Pilot Kao - at last you are here.'
K'ang Lo was a tall, barrel-chested man on whom the
blue-and-black, long-sleeved duizbang's coat looked nat-
ural. At once Kao Chih came to attention and gave a
sharp bow of the head.
'Sir, I...'
'Not now, Pilot. Explanations will come later, once
the mystery is revealed, neh?'
He turned to the senior Roug and gave a slight but
gracious bow, then made a small gesture to the atten-
dants. The light began to dim gradually and everyone
went to find a seat as one of the Roug set up a slender
tripod with a glittering device at its apex. Kao Chih ind
Tumakri found theirs off to the side. Meanwhile, the
other Roug addressed the seated elders in perfectly
inflected Mandarin.
'Most diligent and industrious members of Human
Sept - what you are about to see was very recently dis-
seminated across all first- and second-tier news feeds in
the greater general region ...'
The first Roug straightened, stepped back from the
tripod, and at once a holo appeared and began to play.
A series of human commentators, Caucasian, Asiatic and
African, was shown, interspersed with views of what
looked like villages and towns on a lush, fertile world far
from Earth. The commentary and dialogue was mostly
in Anglic and Russian but someone - Chih assumed it
was the Roug - had added Mandarin subtitles. As the
story emerged and became clearer, excited whispers rip-
pled around the room, because those towns and villages
belonged to a Human settlement founded by one of the
original colonyships which had fled Earth at the height of
the Swarm War, taking random hyperspace jumps into
the depths of space.
The Tenebrosa, the Forrestal and the Hyperion. It
Seeds of Earth Page 16
