A phantom Fleet of ghost ships, once filled with his friends and colleagues. And cousins and aunts and uncles.
He brought his head down. No wonder he was shaken. No wonder he had trouble putting this aside.
Many of the people he knew were effectively dead to him. The life he had was gone.
His imagined future could never, ever happen.
He was now the top of the heap. His people would listen to him and would have no other authority to appeal to. He was not only the oldest person in his family; he was the only person in his family.
And he had to be strong.
He had to figure out a way to keep his people together, keep them from falling apart.
He had to manage them and his own mind.
His own heart.
He turned away from the screens, turning them off. He returned to his plate. The gravy had congealed just a bit, but no matter.
Maybe once the Ivoire was repaired and had left this place, he could take a few days, talk to one of the counselors, let himself feel the crisis.
He had no time to do that now.
But he would continue to eat dinner alone, so no one knew how very hard this all was.
Especially on him.
* * * *
FORTY-TWO
I
think I’ve been unfair to you.”
I am standing before my entire team. They sit at the large table in my suite, a spread of food before them. The room smells faintly of coffee, exotic spices, and baked bread.
Everyone is staring at me, and they all look startled. Apparently, I don’t use the word “unfair” very often—especially in connection with my own actions.
“I didn’t listen to you,” I say, looking at my archeologists. Lucretia Stone’s lips purse. “When you discussed groundquakes, I had no idea how serious they were. I didn’t really believe you when you said that working underground can be dangerous.”
Stone opens her mouth, apparently thinking I have given her permission to speak. I haven’t, so I hold up one hand to silence her.
“I have learned this in a way I didn’t want to,” I say. “I know that Vaycehn is dealing with devastation right now, and there’s no guarantee something similar won’t happen again tomorrow.”
“Well, I really think we’re right about the death hole,” the scientist Lentz says.
I raise a finger at him, silencing him, and give him a bit of a smile. At least, I think it’s a smile. It doesn’t quite feel like one.
“You’ll have your opportunity,” I say. “But you have to let me finish. All of you.”
Mikk is watching me as if I have lost my mind. The chair he sits on, four down from mine, looks tiny against his muscular bulk. Ilona sits next to him, her hand over her mouth as if she’s watching a disaster. Maybe she is.
I rest my own hands on the back of my chair and try not to clutch the fabric.
“Because I was unaware of the severity of the dangers here,” I say, “I didn’t give you my speech. All of you have heard it. Some of you know it by heart.”
Tamaz frowns. Roderick bites his lower lip. They know what’s coming. They seem surprised by it, however.
“What we’re doing here is extremely dangerous,” I say. “And we could die.”
Bridge folds his hands on top of the table.
“The risk is particularly bad for the Six.”
I look at them. Kersting has the only glass of beer among my entire group, and he has just set it down. Seager is biting her right thumbnail—chewing on it, really, as if it were a bit of gristle. DeVries has unconsciously mimicked Bridge’s position—hands folded on top of the table. Al-Nasir’s hands are under the table, but he can’t hide the fact that he’s shaking, just a little. Quinte is slowly peeling one of those applelike fruits, not meeting my gaze at all.
And Rea, Rea’s back has straightened, his eyes brightened, as if adding a bit of death to the trip has made it all the more adventurous for him.
“I don’t see how the risk can be bad for you Six,” Gregory, one of the scientists says before I can stop him. “You guys were the only ones not affected by the groundquake.”
“We could have been trapped in that room with no way out,” I say. “Rocks blocking the door, the corridors filled. We’d have been stranded.”
I don’t go on to say that they all could have died, and no one would have known we were there. Bridge starts to speak—and I know what he’s going to say as soon as he starts, that he’s going to mention the way that the rock clears itself, something I haven’t told them yet—but I don’t want him to bring this up.
“Please,” I say, “let me finish before we discuss the rest of this.”
I pause now, almost daring them to interrupt me.
“I came here reluctantly.” I nod at Ilona, acknowledging that she was right. “I didn’t prepare the way I normally do. I thought we’d come in, look around, realize this isn’t the place for us, and leave. Instead, we’ve found absolute treasure. We’ve found a working Dignity Vessel.”
Everyone smiles at that. Just for a moment and the smiles fade.
My fingers squeeze the chair’s back. “But this is my obsession, not yours. You all work for me, and our job is dangerous. We all know that sometimes things go wrong, and someone dies.”
Mikk looks down. He’s gone through this before. So has Roderick, who looks away, and Tamaz, who studies his water glass as if it has writing on it.
“The problem is,” I say, “I have just realized that this mission is so dangerous that many of us could die, and some of us might die trying to rescue others. I can’t, in good conscience, let you go back into those caves without telling you this. And I can’t, in good conscience, let you continue your work without giving you the option to walk away.”
They are all looking at me again, my long-term team, with great surprise.
“I won’t be upset,” I say. “You can stay in the hotel if you like, continue to draw your paychecks, have these meetings with us and offer your expertise, or you can return to the Business and wait for us there. I’m going to return to that Dignity Vessel, and I hope enough of you stay to help me with that. But I understand if you don’t.”
No one speaks. For a moment, I wonder if I’ve been clear.
Then Bernadette Ivy says, “I don’t want to go back into those caves.”
“Me, either,” says Gregory.
Ilona has taken out a pad and starts tapping in names. Thank goodness, because I hadn’t thought to do that.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Bridge says. “This is just getting interesting. Why quit now?”
“I don’t mind the danger,” Mikk says.
“I wish I could see that ship.” Roderick sounds plaintive. He keeps thinking that we see marvelous things inside stealth tech, and until that ship arrived, we never had.
“I’d love to see it too,” Ilona says softly. “I have always imagined what the Dignity Vessels looked like new.”
I’m watching my team with a bit of surprise. Some of them share my obsession, something I hadn’t realized.
Several people haven’t spoken up at all, as if they’re thinking about this. I look at the Six. They’re the ones who matter. I want them to accompany me into that room. We’ll get so much done if there are seven of us.
If I’m alone, this might take months. Years.
I’m a pilot. I know science. I know history. But I’m not a scientist, nor am I an engineer. I’ll be guessing at so many things if I go in alone.
I don’t want to guess. I want to know.
Rea looks at the other members of the Six. They don’t meet his gaze. He shrugs and grins at me.
“I’m fascinated,” he says. “I can’t wait to go back.”
Kersting picks up his beer. “Never say that Rollo Kersting isn’t up for an adventure.”
“An adventure that might kill you?” Seager asks.
“Life kills you,” Kersting says. “It’s just a question of how you’ll go out. I
magine if I go out trying to start up a Dignity Vessel.”
“What if you go out crushed under tons of rock?” Al-Nasir asks.
“Hell, the way I eat,” Kersting says, “I might have a massive heart attack in my sleep. I’d rather have a romantic death, even if it involves rocks and a groundquake.”
“You’re unrealistic,” Bernadette Ivy says. “If you get crushed by rock, it won’t be a quick death. You’ll suffocate, most likely, from collapsed lungs and broken ribs. It’ll be agonizing. Or it might take a few days, because no one can find you.”
Ilona looks at me, as if she expects me to stop this part of the conversation. But I’m not going to. They have to be able to imagine the risks now, when I’m giving them the chance to quit.
Because the one thing I haven’t told them is that this is a one-time offer.
“You’re extremely dramatic, you know that?” Kersting glares at Ivy. “I’m saying the risk is worth it to me. I’ve been dragooned into working in stealth tech by Boss’s dad, and he was one big ass who never told me the risks. I’ve been part of this group for a long time now, and we’re finally getting to the good stuff. I have a weird genetic ability, and it lets me see things that—no offense, Bernadette—you might never have the chance to see. So I’m going to quit right now? You have to be joking. Of course I’m not going to quit.”
“Me either,” Quinte says, surprising me. She had been so afraid when the groundquake quit. She’d been terrified on most of the journeys we’ve taken together.
But she hasn’t quit, either. She hasn’t walked away.
“Really, Nyssa?” Al-Nasir turns slightly in his chair so he can see her better. His voice wobbles.
“Really,” she says. Then she looks at me. “I know I’m not the best person you have. I’m probably the worst. I don’t think well in a crisis. But it seems to me that unless another groundquake happens, and it somehow affects that room, we’re moving into a research phase of this operation, and I like research. I grew up on stories of the fleet of Dignity Vessels, and I’ve always wondered what they were like. I used to think they were so romantic, showing up places, rescuing people, moving on. I thought they were fiction. And now to discover that they’re not ...”
She shakes her head, then shrugs and grins.
“I love the idea of them,” she says, “and to think I might have a small part in understanding them makes me happier than you could ever know.”
Al-Nasir bites his lower lip. Then he stops and rubs his hand over his mouth, as if he’s suddenly aware of what he’s doing.
“I’m inclined to stay above ground,” he says to me, as if we’re alone in the room. “I won’t lie. I was terrified down there. But I’m also terrified of not going down. I walked to some of the groundquake rubble with Lucretia this afternoon, and I could just as easily have died in this hotel or on the street.”
“Maybe more easily,” Lucretia Stone says. “They’re not as quake-proof here as they say they are.”
“I never dreamed I’d be doing any of this,” Al-Nasir says, as if Stone hasn’t spoken. “So I have no romantic illusions about Dignity Vessels. I’ve seen people die in stealth-tech experiments, and I’ve seen what the Empire can do, and what’s really scary is if we don’t do this job fast, they might hear about this ship, and then they’ll have it.”
He takes a deep breath, stopping himself.
“I guess,” he says more slowly, sounding a bit surprised. “I guess I’m convincing myself to continue.”
“You’re convincing me, too,” Seager says.
“And me,” DeVries says. I look at him, eyebrows raised. I thought he’d come with us. He seemed so coolheaded when we were in the room. I hadn’t realized that he was disturbed as well.
“So all six of you are coming back?” I ask, and I let my surprise into my voice.
Kersting looks around, then grins at me. “Guess so.”
No one denies it. They all stare at me.
“I don’t want you changing your minds once we go below ground,” I say. “Tonight’s the night for decisions. After that, we’re not going to discuss death or risks or possible trouble unless we need to do so to avoid it.”
Al-Nasir glances at everyone else. Kersting is nodding. Rea is smiling. Seager makes little fists and raises them, in a let’s-do-this gesture. DeVries nods once. And Quinte puts her hand on Al-Nasir’s shoulder.
“We’re coming,” she says.
“Fahd,” I say to Al-Nasir. “Don’t let them pressure you. Are you going to join us?”
His mouth thins. He takes another deep breath, as if that’s the only way he can calm himself.
“I’d be stupid not to,” he says.
“We’re all staying,” Mikk says.
“Bernadette, Gregory,” I say. “Are you willing to stay in Vaycehn and help us?”
Bernadette shakes her head. “I think you guys can send me the information on the Business and I can work there.”
“You’ll be working alone,” Gregory says. “I don’t like it here, but I’d rather be here than orbiting Wyr for six months while everyone else gets all the glory.”
“Fahd is right,” Stone says. “Every place is a risk. And now that you’re willing to listen to us, Boss, we’ll be able to mitigate some of it.”
Her tone makes me bristle, but I don’t show it. She’s right. I was wrong to ignore the warnings of the archeologists. I’m going to listen. We’re going to plan this properly.
We’re going to do this next stage right.
* * * *
FORTY-THREE
W
e go back to the room in the same configuration we used two days ago. Mikk and Roderick wait as close to the stealth-tech field as they can. A hovercart sits near them in case we need it quickly. Four guides bring us down, and they have a hovercart too.
This time, however, they have orders to remain below ground, and Bridge has volunteered to stay above ground to make sure they follow those orders.
The only other change is one that the Six have asked for: all of them get to go into the room at the same time.
“After all,” Quinte says, “no one can get into the stealth-tech field unless they have a marker, so I don’t think there’s a reason to guard the door from the outside.”
“And rocks can’t fall inside a stealth field,” Al-Nasir says, even though we’ve discussed this. We don’t know if that’s true or not. Still, he’s got a point. If a disaster happens inside the room, it won’t matter if we have someone outside or not.
I personally think they don’t want to repeat the experience of waiting in those corridors with nothing to do. They’re not trained divers like Mikk and Roderick. Al-Nasir and Quinte are not used to waiting long periods of time.
I see no harm in letting them accompany us into the room.
So I let them.
We go in as silently as we can. I go first, which is risky, because I have no idea if we’re alone. I’m worried that we’ll encounter someone—or lots of someones, someones who think we’re invading their private area, someones who are used to this place when we are not.
I’ve been thinking about it all night, and I have found myself wondering if this isn’t normal for Dignity Vessels. Maybe they have bases like this all over the known universe, dark except when a Dignity Vessel needs repair.
I keep remembering those laser score marks on the side of the ship, and wonder if it was damaged in some kind of fight, and if so, if this is where it is supposed to go for repairs.
Of course, I also wonder if it is a dead ship whose arrival was somehow triggered by us. I spent half the night on that, pacing and worrying that I want to believe this scenario, because that means I can figure out how to open the ship, then go inside and investigate it.
The second scenario also means the Dignity Vessel is mine—or can be mine, if the Vaycehnese government never finds out about it, and we can somehow figure out how to get the ship out of this enclosed underground room.
One pr
oblem at a time, though.
We stand at the door. My heart is pounding. I can tell from the readings on the Six’s environmental suits that their hearts are racing as well. They’re trying to control their breathing, but they’re as nervous as I am, maybe more so. Their palms are sweating, and their suits are trying to cool them down.
I’m not that nervous. But I’m excited.
City of Ruins - [Diving Universe 02] Page 24
