“I don’t think that would be good. The arracht don’t like technology like yours. I don’t know if Kekeki would allow us to do that.”
Ichiko wanted to shake her head at that, but AMI interjected.
“We can still go now,” Saoirse responded. “I’m not tired yet, and it’s a fairly quick trip over in a currach. We could be back before High Fourth.”
So it was that Ichiko found herself walking down the steep path from the clanhouse toward the White Strand and the quay where the Inish boats were moored, far below. They were perhaps halfway down when Ichiko heard AMI in her head once more.
Ichiko stopped, causing Saoirse to look back at her quizzically. Ichiko frowned, looking over the island as she focused her thoughts.
With that, there was a roaring silence in her head. Saoirse was still staring at Ichiko; behind her, the Sleeping Wolf was a blue-gray lump on the equally gray swells of the sea. Ichiko saw Saoirse’s gaze lift to the top of the path, and when she followed Saoirse’s gaze, she saw the flitter flying over the summit and beginning to descend toward the White Strand. “What’s going on?” Saoirse asked. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to use the flitter.”
Ichiko took a deep breath and exhaled it. “I just had an urgent message from Odysseus. I have to return to First Base immediately, Saoirse.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know myself. I only know that it’s something important.”
She saw Saoirse bite at her bottom lip. “Is it about . . . ?” She stopped; Ichiko saw her glance away to watch the flitter settle on the bright sand below. “Has the captain made her decision about letting those here come back to Earth?”
Ichiko could only shrug. “I don’t know, Saoirse. That’s the truth. But I have to go. I’m sorry. But I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
Tread Softly Because You Tread On My Dreams
AS THEY WERE NEARING the Pale Woman, her AMI spoke in her head.
“Ichiko,” Luciano replied after the inevitable time lag delay—so there was no one else with him now or he’d made arrangements for their conversation not to be recorded. She hoped so, anyway. A com window popped open belatedly on the windshield, and she was looking at Luciano’s face, his ice-pale eyes sharp under his eyebrows. He was in his bridge uniform. “Where are you now?” he said.
“I’m over Dulcia, ready to head up to Connor Pass and First Base. AMI, go ahead and open a window for me on Odysseus. What’s happened? Why did I have to come back in such a hurry?”
“We have a situation. Minister Plunkett contacted Captain Keshmiri, sounding furious. He wanted to know why no one had told him that the decision had been made that no Lupusian would be allowed to return to Earth on Odysseus. He wanted to know why his clan’s volunteers on Odysseus hadn’t been returned in that case, and . . .” She saw him take a breath, and the hint of a smile lurked in the corners of his mouth. “. . . he asked why—and I’m quoting here—‘the feckin’ Inish had been told, but he’d been left looking like some goddamn unimportant arse.’”
“Chikushō,” Ichiko muttered.
“Exactly my sentiment when the captain replayed the conversation for me.” His face collapsed into seriousness again. “Ichiko, I have to ask this: did you say anything to Banríon Iona, Rí Angus, or Saoirse?”
“No,” she answered quickly, then: “At least I don’t think so. Saoirse asked lots of questions about it, since she wants to go see Earth. I told her about some of the problems we were facing, and I wasn’t pretending to be optimistic about the chances, but I don’t think that I ever said directly that the Lupusians weren’t going to be allowed to go. You can check my AMI’s logs on that if you like.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m sure Captain Keshmiri’s already having someone do that since she’s looking for a proper scapegoat to blame in this kerfuffle. Minister Plunkett said that it was Rí Angus who told him about the decision—they happened to come across each other in one of the Dulcia pubs, though I don’t know how the subject of our decision came up. From the reports I’ve seen, they’d both been drinking heavily at the time. Plunkett called the Rí a ‘feckin’ liar’ among other insults, and the Rí wasn’t any gentler. Evidently, they came to blows before they were separated. Then Plunkett called the captain, and she had to admit that, yes, the Rí was largely correct though she stressed that no final decision had yet been made. That absolutely didn’t sit well with the minister.”
Ichiko could see the lip of Connor Pass through the windshield. “AMI,” she said, “set us down here for a few minutes so we can keep talking. What a terrific mess. Luciano, honestly, I don’t know how this happened. If I had anything to do with it, all I can say is that I’m sorry.”
She saw his shoulders lift and fall. “At this point, sorry isn’t going to cut it with the captain, I’m afraid. This wasn’t the way she wanted the decision released. We’ve lost control of the narrative and as an indication of just how fast the gossip is moving, we’re already hearing from other clans in other towns that they’re angry, too.”
“What do you need me to do?”
He looked away from her as if checking something on another screen, then back. “The captain or I would be hours getting down there on a shuttle. You’re already there and familiar with the situation. When you get back to First Base, we want you to take Lieutenant Bishara and go see Plunkett.”
“Luciano, I’m not trained as a diplomat.”
“I know and neither is Bishara—in fact, far from it in her case. But you’ve at least had some training in it, you’ve both met Plunkett, and you’ll have us listening in via
AMI. The captain will be giving her input from here as long as Plunkett’s willing to use the com-unit. I’ll fill you in on how we plan to approach this on the way. But for right now, get yourself and Bishara to First Base. The lieutenant’s expecting you and should be nearly ready.”
He smiled at her then. “You can do this, Ichiko.” He gave a short laugh. “Not that the captain’s giving you any choice in the matter.”
* * *
Uncle Angus and Liam arrived back in Great Inish less than two bells after Ichiko left. “By Spiorad Mór, what happened to the two of yeh?” Saoirse asked as they entered the kitchen of the main clanhouse. Saoirse and her mam were pounding dried sugar root with mortar and pestle, sifting the sweet crushed root into a large pottery jar in the center of the table. Both women immediately put down their pestles as they looked at the two. Angus’ left eye was dark and bruised, a fan of blood spread from his left nostril and over his cheek; his lower lip was cut and swollen. Liam’s face was likewise swollen and bloodied, and there were bruises on the knuckles of the hands of both of them.
“Feckin’ Hugh Plunkett is what happened,” Angus answered. “The man’s a raging stook and a bloody clontarf, but he has a proper punch. I’ll give him that much.”
“And why did yeh come to blows with the minister?” Iona asked them.
Angus glanced at Saoirse, then dropped his gaze quickly. Standing at the kitchen sink, he pumped water onto a washcloth and began to gingerly clean the blood from his face. “Uncle?” Saoirse asked. The suspicion that she was about to learn why Ichiko had been suddenly called back to First Base clutched at her gut, twisting.
It was Liam who answered. “We went t’ Murphy’s as usual for a few pints after we finished selling our spiny walkers to Doireann Fitzpatrick. Uncle Angus was at the bar getting us our drinks while I was chatting up this cute Clan Griffith lass; I was making good progress with her, too, if I’m t’be honest. I figured I’d be—”
His mother interrupted the tale. “Liam, just get on with it.”
Liam shrugged, rubbing at his discolored knuckles and grimacing. “Sorry, Mam. Anyway, that’s when feckin’ Hugh Plunkett barged into the alehouse with his red face and loud voice and trailing a couple of his burly clanmates for support. He started shouting at Uncle Angus. ‘So, Rí, are yeh trying to charm that skinny Terran lassie so that the feckin’ Inishers will get first place on the ship back to Earth?’ he roars. ‘Well, I tell yeh, I ain’t gonna let that happen.’ Then . . .” Liam glanced sidewise at Angus. “I guess I should let Uncle Angus tell it from there.”
Angus put down the washcloth; Saoirse could see pink streaks on the cloth. “Plunkett got right up in me face, spitting as he was talking. I pushed the man backward so I could breathe without his foul beer breath in me nose. I told him what yeh’d told me, Saoirse—that the chances are the Terrans ain’t takin’ any of us back to Earth a’tall. That made his face go redder than usual, and he came back at me, swinging his big fist. After that . . .” Angus shrugged. “I don’t remember all that much except how his feckin’ nose cracked nicely when I broke it for him. Liam got involved when the rest of the Plunkett goons decided to jump on me while Plunkett was howling and holding his nose with bloody fingers. Then people were pulling us apart and trying to settle everyone down—after all, not all the Mainlanders are like the Plunketts. Most of ’em are decent enough people—though me and Plunkett were still hurlin’ curses at each other. The Clan Murphy folk were pushing the Plunketts out the door and escorting them to the other end of the quay. Before they returned, me and Liam got in our currach and came back here. Didn’t seem a very good idea for us to stay in Dulcia until next cycle.”
“I told him what yeh’d told me, Saoirse.” Saoirse had only half-listened to the tale past that point. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything a’tall. This is my fault. Saoirse got up from her chair at the table. “Excuse me,” she said to Liam, to Angus, to her mam. “I’m not feeling well.”
She walked out from the kitchen into the main entrance room, then outside. The wind had picked up, the clouds had gathered and lowered, and she could feel a spray of drizzle on her face. She tapped her com earpiece. After a pause, she heard AMI’s voice.
“I need to speak to her. It’s . . . well, I think it may be important.”
“Umm . . . I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”
Saoirse hugged herself, watching the clouds drifting overhead. The rain thickened and began to pelt down heavier.
Saoirse grimaced and went back inside. My fault. The phrase kept hammering at her. My fault. And Kekeki’s fault, too.
* * *
Chava was grim-faced as she pulled herself into the flitter. Ichiko noted the holstered pulse pistol at her side. “I hope that’s not going to be necessary,” she said to Chava.
Chava only shrugged. “So do I,” she answered. “This certainly isn’t my idea of fun.” The canopy closed, and the harness settled around her. The flitter lifted, swayed once as it turned, and nosed back down toward Connor Pass and Dulcia. “Is it true that the leak came from your Inish?”
“They’re not my Inish,” Ichiko said, “but yes, that’s what it looks like. I haven’t quite figured out why or how or who, exactly. I haven’t had time to talk to Saoirse since I found out, though AMI’s saying she tried to call me.”
Chava nodded. “I’m not sure what we can do to fix things with this Plunkett meeting.”
“Commander Mercado has given me some ideas. I’m told that we’ll be monitored through our AMIs, and there will be people on the diplomatic end of things helping us respond. And the captain’s going to call in as well.”
“Just what I need: superior officers in my head listening to me.” Chava released an audible, aggrieved sigh. She gave Ichiko a half-hearted smile. “And here I thought we were becoming friends.”
“I’ll try my best not to wreck your career.”
“Much appreciated.” She gave another sigh. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m glad it’s you I’m going with rather than the commander, the captain, or any of those heavy brass officers on Odysseus.” She shook her head. “AMI, you should delete that last remark from the log.”
“AMI, you should do the same,” Ichiko said to her own implant.
As they reached the outskirts of Dulcia, the windshield shimmered with the head and shoulders of Luciano. “We’ve just heard from Minister Plunkett. He’s expecting the two of you and is waiting at his pub office on the quay. You’ll have Captain Keshmiri with you as well via Plunkett’s com-unit. Let your AMIs know when you’re with the minister, and the captain will join you then.”
Ichiko and Chava exchanged glances. Chava shrugged with an accompanying grimace. “Understood,” Ichiko said. “Thank you, Commander.”
“Good luck to both of you. Let’s hope we can calm everyone down.” With that, Luciano vanished as his window blinked out. The flitter came in over the upper town and settled down on the quay a few meters from Plunkett’s Pub. “Notice anything?” Chava asked as the canopy started to lift, the seat harnesses slid away, and the noise of the rotors died.
Ichiko nodded wordlessly. There was a small crowd of Lupusians around the pub entrance, blocking the doors and staring intently at Ichiko and Chava with decidedly unfriendly faces. Chava had her hand lightly resting on the grip of her pulse pistol. “Chava?” Ichiko said, looking pointedly at the weapon; Chava reluctantly moved her hand away, the fingers curling into a fist at her side.
“They rather make me w
onder if I should have brought along body armor with the bio-shield,” Chava muttered as they descended from the flitter and the canopy closed behind them.
“We want them to trust us,” Ichiko said. “So we have to act like we trust them in return.”
“That’s a lovely sentiment, but I’m not feeling particularly trusting at the moment. Not the way they’re glaring at us.” Chava strode toward the pub with Ichiko following and trying to pretend that she was unconcerned. She smiled toward the group—both men and women, all dressed as in working clothes—as they approached. Their faces remained grim, but they moved aside to let Chava and Ichiko pass as they neared the pub. “Dia duit,” Ichiko said.
There wasn’t a corresponding response. “So is it true? Yer going to leave us all stranded here again?” one of the women called loudly as they passed between them. Ichiko pressed her lips together tightly and didn’t answer. Chava pushed open the doors. “Tell us!” the woman shouted. “Tell us, yeh cowardly bastards!”
The doors closed behind them, cutting off the profane shouts that followed. The interior was dark, lit by oil lanterns hanging from the support beams of the low ceiling. There didn’t appear to be any customers: no one in the booths or along the tables, no one behind the bar and the taps, no wait staff anywhere. A door to the rear opened and Minister Plunkett stood there, a backlit silhouette. He gestured to the firelit room behind him.
“Come through,” he said.
Ichiko took a long cleansing breath.
Amid the Crowd of Stars Page 24
