“Of course we have to,” my beloved and I said at the same time, and then I shut up because, while I did know that, I had no idea why it was so. I let him continue. “We can’t leave Eden like this. Eden is the only home we have. We can’t let it be taken from us.” He paused. “You planted the suggestion they send us away, didn’t you?” he asked no one in particular. “And not just to give us a chance to escape Eden.”
“We planted the suggestion,” Tania said. “Mostly to allow you to escape since, as long as you’re here, there will be people who will want you dead.”
“Mostly,” Kit echoed.
“Well, there is also the undeniable fact that if it can be done—and Jarl thought it could—we need to be able to seed or transplant powertrees. We have never been able to do it, and as long as we have to go to Earth orbit for powerpods, we are dependent on Earth, the politics of Earth and the rulership of Earth—and how active they are in tracing us, and how much they mind the theft of pods. Even if the current hunt for darkship thieves subsides, it would always start up again. And because of the large investment needed to get to Earth we are also dependent on the Energy Board and its rules. We cannot allow that, because—”
“By controlling what people need to survive, they’ve become a government and are turning Eden into a dictatorship,” I said.
“An oligarchy, I’d call it,” Doctor Bartolomeu said, inclining his head marginally. “Or at least they’d consider themselves oligoi. But you’re correct on the essentials. A few people who consider themselves superior wielding the power of life or death over the rest of the world.” A fleeting smile turned his lips upward and rearranged his wrinkles. “Even when those people were engineered to be truly superior in every way that was considered relevant, it did not end well.”
Kit removed his arm from atop his eyes, and sat up. I rushed to sit beside him and he reached out for me and squeezed my hand hard. He smelled of sweat and vomit, with an overlay of illness, and he looked like he’d been dragged through hell backwards, but he was alive, conscious and attentive. I wanted…something else for us. I wanted people to stop trying to kill one of us, and just let us be. I wanted to be left in peace. You never get what you want.
He said, “What you’re saying, and what Thena is saying is that we can choose to come back to Eden, eventually, but to come back to Eden we must bring back the solution to Eden’s energy stranglehold, which has become a power stranglehold. Because we won’t be accepted back if we don’t bring with us the way to remove the power…” He looked around searchingly and Doc Bartolomeu said “The room is clean of bugs. We took care of it.”
Kit nodded. “The way to remove the power of life or death from the greedy hands of the Energy Board. And frankly, we won’t want to come back in that case, as Eden will be no better than Earth and this being a smaller world, it will allow those at the top to control every individual at the bottom that much more tightly. On the other hand, we can choose to stay on Earth and live in hiding and forget about Eden, right?”
“Right,” Kath said. “We would not force you to risk your lives for the chance of bringing freedom back to Eden. I mean, we hope you care for us, but risking your lives is a price that only the two of you can determine to pay.”
“Our lives, our fortunes, our sacred honor,” Kit said, in almost a whisper. Mentally he said, What do you think?
We do it, I said. And we do find a way to grow the powertrees nearby, where anyone can harvest them. I want Castaneda powerless.
He smiled. By now he probably knew better than to appeal to my higher sentiments, since I might not have any. But he still added, And I don’t want Waldron’s children growing up under his authority.
That too. But mostly I wanted to take Castaneda’s toys away. And hurt him.
Kit smiled again. My girl! He said, managing to sound proud. Aloud, he said, “We’ll do it, or die trying. We’ll bring back the solution to the power rationing, a way to open the power business to everyone—or we die.”
“I didn’t expect any less of you, my boy,” Doctor Bartolomeu said, and he did sound like he really meant it. “But you must not expect this to be either simple or easy. The Energy Board can’t fight back openly, but that only makes it more dangerous. They will fight back. No one gives power up easily, certainly not someone who is as invested in holding power as Castaneda is. He is one of those for whom power is more important than material comfort, possibly more important than his own life. He must rule or die trying. I want you to realize when you pledge your life, you might very well be required to pay.”
“I don’t say it lightly,” Kit said. “And I understand that. Doc, I’m not an infant.”
“No,” the doctor said. “But you must also understand that you and Thena can’t go alone. The type of ship they will send you in will be more stripped and require more intensive piloting than the Cathouse ever did. And besides accidents, real or engineered, will happen. The Cat and Nav teams are designed to cover for each other at need, but this will require something more. I believe you will have to double up. As it is, with two Cats and two Navs we’ll be straining the food and fuel and water capacity of the ship, but since we won’t bring back pods, the allowance is slightly higher. Not by much, mind you. Pods aren’t that heavy. And the ships are built at most for a couple and their supplies, with about a child’s supply worth of tolerance. I wish you could do it alone, but we need to have four people and double every ability.”
“Go with another Cat and Nav?” I asked. I tried to imagine who would do it, whom we could trust, and whom I wouldn’t kill after months alone in a tiny ship. Maybe Kath and Eber, if we were all very lucky. “But any other Cat will be in danger on Earth. I mean, Kit will be too, but him I might be able to conceal. But you know, Cat’s eyes are—”
But the doctor said, “I volunteer to do the turn of backup Cat. While I don’t have Kit’s advantages of vision, I do have the reflexes, and I can move fast. I wouldn’t pilot through the energy trees, but I can pilot anywhere else.” He didn’t say his improvements came from being a Mule, but no one asked about it. For that matter, no one in the room, not even the extended family, showed any surprise at his volunteering, and I remembered something about the Denovos being hereditary friends of Jarl—probably originally Jarl’s servants, now I thought about it, or his confidential helpers—which probably meant they all knew what Doc Bartolomeu was. He lifted a hand as Kit seemed about to speak. “If I go with you, it gives you two people who know Earth, at least somewhat. Yes, I realize it has changed somewhat in the last three hundred years, but Thena has time to catch me up on that. But having been born and raised there, I’m not going to go into a panic at the sight of the ocean or have acute agoraphobia at the wide-open spaces, which you know very well most Cats and Navs would have.”
“And I volunteer to be the backup Nav,” the redheaded woman to whom I hadn’t been introduced said. And as she stood and took a step forward, I realized who she reminded me of. It didn’t make me feel any better. Classical paintings shouldn’t come to life like that, and I realized—startled—that she looked exactly like Botticelli’s Venus. So, she wasn’t standing on a seashell, and she had clothes on: a very practical-looking kind of coveralls, not much different from, even if obviously better tailored than the ones I wore when working on the ships’ innards.
I went all defensive. I couldn’t help it. There is something in every woman that makes her despise someone that much more attractive, someone who was better equipped by nature to appeal to a man who wishes to have children. I could no more have kept myself from talking than I could have stopped from breathing. “Wouldn’t your Cat object?” I said. In my defense I managed not to hiss and meow in the manner of another type of cat. Also, I was right, to a point; most—if not all—Cat and Nav teams were married and used to spending all their time together. And if we had to take her husband too, then we’d end up, by accretion, taking half of Eden. I didn’t think this was a good idea. For one, four would push the weight li
mits on the ship, as it was.
“Len died,” she said, and frowned in my direction, as if she held me responsible for it. “Radiation poisoning in the powertrees. I brought our ship back alone.” Her voice went all tight, as if a constriction in her throat only allowed it to squeak through. “I gave his body to space. I am without dependents or restriction on my movements.”
And no doubt would hate me till the day she died because I had been similarly poisoned and survived. Right. Sure I wanted her with me on a long trip in tight quarters.
Doctor Bartolomeu stood up, went to stand by her. “Thank you, Zen. It would help,” he said, then to me, “This is Zenobia Sienna,” Doctor Bartolomeu said. “She’s…almost my adopted daughter.” This got him a little smile from Ms. Ice Queen. “She’s the daughter of some dear friends. I’ve watched her grow up. I wouldn’t ask anyone to go with us—it’s not my right to command anyone to risk his or her life—but I think we should accept her services.”
“Zen?” Kit said, looking at her, and smiling a little in turn. It was obvious he’d known her for years, which of course made perfect sense. Most Cats and Navs knew each other; they all grew up together. None of which meant I had to like it. “Great. Yeah. It will give us a backup if Thena is…” I could see him struggle with the idea I could die, then shake his head. “If Thena is incapacitated. It will also give you time to…well…I know what it’s like. It will give you time to get better, to…get used to being alone, in a place where nothing reminds you of Len, you know?”
She inclined her head minimally. “That’s what I thought.”
Oh, great. Not only was she a grieving widow who would immediately awaken in my husband sympathetic feelings, because he’d been widowed himself, but he clearly knew her and liked her. That he knew her was a given, considering how small the community of Cats and Navs was. That he liked her, not so much given my husband’s temperament. As he liked to put it, he didn’t play well with others. But I had to get lucky right across the board. I was going to be locked in a small space with a woman who was mad at me and probably trying to make up to my husband.
While I trusted Kit implicitly—he’d risked his life for me way too many times not to—the morals of Eden were complex and fidelity might or might not be part of what Kit thought he had signed up for in marriage. I didn’t trust Zenobia farther than I could throw her.
THE POISON AND THE DAGGER
I didn’t have to like it, which was a good thing, because I didn’t.
It wasn’t even the rigged examination at the center and the feeling that everyone knew something I didn’t know and seemed to understand how to spring Kit from this trap better than I did. It wasn’t the trip to Earth being imposed on us from above, to look for something that might or might not exist any longer. It wasn’t even that Zenobia was foisted on us, or that she was a total stranger, destined to spend six months in space with us and Doc.
No, the problem was that I knew there were other things going on, beyond the reach of my ears and that no one was going to tell me about them. I was a stranger in Eden, had lived there for far less than a year, if one took into account my trips out with Kit.
Perhaps Kit’s family thought I would blow up if I knew all that was going on, but I didn’t think that was it. Not this time. At least Kit himself would know that if I hadn’t blown up yet, I wasn’t about to.
I’m not going to claim any great level of maturity, but it had been some time since I thought every problem could be solved by kicking it in the appropriate—Kit would say inappropriate—place. Sometimes you needed to kick it in a lot of different places. And sometimes strategy was needed. And sometimes I had to leave the strategy to others.
Only when I told Kit that, as we flew back home at last—in our own flyer that someone had fetched from the Energy Center—he shook his head, and his lips trembled upward. His eyes were oddly tender as he smiled. Actually, Thena, I suspect there’s a lot of things we won’t have time to tell each other except in mind-talk. And that Doc and Zen won’t tell us because they can’t mind-talk us. Because most places will be bugged with cameras and sound pickups. Because the greatest authority in the world is out to get us.
I turned this over in my mind. Having the greatest authority in the world—okay one of the fifty greatest authorities in the world (no use catering to Daddy Dearest’s perception of himself particularly now that he was safely dead)—out to get me was pretty much how I’d lived my whole life. And?
He gave me that look again, the look he gives when he thinks I’m completely unreasonable and also extremely funny. Thena! And what do you think? They’ll have listening devices and they’ll have traps. He gave me a sidelong glance, suddenly serious, as though evaluating how I’d respond. Surely you realize the only reason we’re being allowed to go is that they think we’ll never come back.
I had been trying not to realize that. I know our mission is damn close to hopeless, I said, soberly, trying to sound as grown up as I knew how. I saw some of the notes Jarl left behind, but they were in my father’s possession and my father is…dead. Whether the next person knew what they meant I don’t know. And I left behind at the broomer’s lair the gems I took from my father’s study. At any rate, the ones I saw were all on how to make me which I don’t think anyone on Eden needs. There was nothing about powertrees. As for the ones they showed you in Never-Never…who knows what happened after the break-in. I know prisoners escaped and the lower levels, where you were, were flooded. So I think the chances of us finding powertree—
No, Thena. Kit sounded patient and faintly amused. No. Don’t you see? It has nothing to do with how difficult the secret of growing powertrees is. We’ll give it our best and I’d give that endeavor a good fifty-fifty chance.
Not fifty-fifty chance of my understanding any of it. He forestalled my protest. As I said, I’m just a vacuum-ship-pusher. But the chance of us bringing it back, and having the trained people on Eden decode it. These people are terrified we’ll achieve it, of course, so they’d probably give us higher odds. And that’s why they’ll make sure something happens to us en route. So we never get to Earth, much less come back. And they can say we defected.
Something…A monstrous idea formed in my mind. Sabotage? Sabotage was not a crime in Eden. But in a world as attached to the morality and rights of the individual, it seemed like they should be more moral. Like there would be a certain basic decency attaching to their decisions, like they wouldn’t simply kill us because it is convenient.
Oh, not because it is convenient, Thena. Only for the highest possible motives. They are highly moral people, don’t you see that?
I don’t know what my face showed looking back at him, but his lips twitched. They are, nonetheless. At least in their own minds and whether you believe it or not. They’re doing this for the good of the people.
The good of the people! I said. That sounds like one of Daddy Dearest’s speeches. But Kit, it’s impossible that they think it’s for the good of the people. They can’t be that stupid and there are limits to self delusion. How could starving Eden of energy be for the good of anything, except maybe the Good Men of Earth?
Very easily, Kit said. If you can put yourself in a frame of mind where you see yourself as knowing what everyone should do for their own good. If that were true, then being able to control who gets energy and who doesn’t would mean being able to encourage certain elements of society and discourage others. You would in fact be able to design a society where only the best people had power and—
It was all too easy to put myself in that frame of mind. I’d heard my father and his friends talk long enough that it was almost second nature to slip into that mode of thinking. Even after a year in Eden, I still wasn’t sure they were wrong, for that matter. Dad and his cronies were corrupt, venal and, sometimes, evil, but they were not stupid. And so many people I met seemed too stupid to stand upright and talk at the same time. Like that man who’d got in an argument with Kath during the hearing.
; I could, in a way, understand wanting to encourage the…good people and discourage the others. I could even sympathize with it. But I also remembered overhearing Daddy Dearest’s policy meetings—most of the time without his knowing I was nearby. And the people that Daddy Dearest tried to encourage, half the time, were the people who were too stupid to live. They were easier to lead, you see—easier to convince of what Daddy wanted them to believe. I groaned. The good people…I said. The Good Men.
Once more, my husband gave me an amused glance. He looked vaguely feral, unshaven, wearing clothes that appeared slept in, and like he had been starved for days. This last was probably not true. Eden had no reason to ration food, and wouldn’t risk starving Kit if there was a chance of Kath ever finding out.
An unholy light danced in his eyes. Of course, he said. The good people always end up being the ones who do as they’re told. And the Good Men—by any other name—do the telling.
I suppose it could be argued those truly were the good people. Civilization could be said to consist of people willing to go along with others’ ideas. The domesticated version of humans. But this was not a philosophic debate. We were talking about real people, people I knew…my husband’s family, his friends, the place that had made him what he was. And I saw about as much chance of their going along to get along as of my growing an extra head. And—I set my jaw, remembering Castaneda—just on principle, I refused to go along.
So you’re telling me, I said, that they intend to sabotage our ship so we die in space? And you’re fine with that? You still wanted them to send us out into space? Aren’t there easier ways to commit suicide?
There would be, if I had any intention of letting them get away with it, he said, and pushed his chin forward, setting his jaw. It reminded me of when he’d been near-fatally wounded and had climbed up the side of a ship, against what must have been unbearable pain, to prevent me committing suicide by Dock Control. Afterwards he’d stared at me with that sheer stubbornness in his eyes, even while a dark stain of blood spread on the side of his suit. Now the stubborn was back, as well as a definite streak of defiance. We’re going to find all their traps and all their sabotage. We’re going to survive it. We’re going to go to Earth and come back with a way to replant powerpods. And then we’re going to make the little weasels eat it.
Darkship Renegades Page 6
