The Winds Of The Sullen Gale
AS THEY ENTERED Minister Plunkett’s office, Ichiko could see Plunkett better, and her eyes widened at the sight. The man’s face was bruised and battered, his nose swollen and set slightly askew. It appeared that the minister might have had the worse of the fight with the Rí—which didn’t surprise Ichiko, knowing both of the men.
“Minister Plunkett, it’s good to see you again,” she said, “though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
His lips, swollen from the fight, curled into a sneer. She noticed that another tooth was missing. “I’ll just bet yeh do,” he answered, his thickened lips and nose blurring the words. “What the hell have yeh been telling yer Inish friends that yeh haven’t been telling me?”
Before Ichiko could fashion a response to that, the com-unit on Plunkett’s desk chimed and lit up. Above the device, a window holding Captain Keshmiri’s image opened. The captain’s face was serious, her lips tightly pressed together. She glanced at each of them before focusing her attention on Plunkett. “Minister Plunkett, I want to apologize for the evident misunderstanding here.”
Plunkett gave a bark of a laugh at that. “Yeh do, eh, Captain? So ’tis merely a misunderstanding, is it? And just what is it that yeh think I’m too much a fecking idjit to have understood?”
Ichiko heard an intake of breath from Chava behind her and saw the captain’s face flush a breath later. Ichiko hurried to speak, knowing that there would be a few seconds’ time lag before the captain could answer. “Minister, please forgive me for interrupting, but I don’t believe there was any misunderstanding on your part. It was the Inish who evidently leaped to a hasty—and wrong—conclusion from comments I made, and I’m very sorry for any part I played in that. I swear to you that I never told Rí Mullin or Banríon Mullin or any of the Inish that Captain Keshmiri had made any decision regarding whether or not we would allow Lupusians to return to Earth. What I said to those on the archipelago was only what you already knew: that there were still issues that had to be resolved before that could happen. Those same issues are why Lieutenant Bishara and I are required to wear our bio-shields whenever we leave First Base. This is the truth of the matter: I never told the Inish that any firm decision had been made. If that’s what Rí Angus believes he heard, then he’s entirely mistaken.”
Ichiko glanced at the captain’s face; she could read nothing there but thought that the captain gave her a faint nod. Plunkett grunted once, wordlessly, then turned to face the com-unit. “Then tell me, Captain,” he said, “are the Inish wrong about this ‘conclusion’ of theirs?”
After the usual time delay, the captain replied. “As of this moment, Minister, I’ve still made no final decision, as Dr. Aguilar has just told you. However, I’ll be honest here—we’ve still been unable to do much about the Lupusian bacteria and viruses that could conceivably infect, sicken, and kill those of us who haven’t been exposed to them. You understand, of course, that it would be centuries of your time before I could get an answer from Earth with their input on this problem. I wish it were different, but this is my decision to make and I’m acutely aware of the gravity it holds for all of us.”
“And?” Plunkett prodded. “What does all that blathering mean?”
Another few seconds passed. “The bitter reality for me is that we have very little time left to us to resolve those issues. That’s concerning to all of us: Terran and Lupusian alike. Odysseus can’t remain here indefinitely; you were informed of that fact when we first arrived, after all. As things stand at the moment, were I forced to make the decision right now, during this cycle, then the answer is no—I would not allow any Lupusians to return to Earth because that would constitute too much of a risk for both the Lupusians who’d now be exposed to Terran diseases new to them and for Terrans who’ve never had to deal with Lupusian diseases. Frankly, I’m not willing to be responsible for the significant number of deaths that might result—on both sides. As for taking anyone back in isolation, that could still be a consideration, but let me ask you this, Minister: would you be willing to spend at least ten years of our time—nearly two centuries in your time—in a sealed isolation chamber, permitted outside only if you were wearing a bio-shield and even then always accompanied by someone with orders to shoot you if you tried removing the shield or if for some reason it failed? I know what my choice would be.”
Plunkett blinked heavily, glaring at the captain. “So what I hear yeh saying is that Rí Mullin is right. Yer going to leave all of us here.”
“I’m saying,” Captain Keshmiri replied calmly, “that I haven’t made my final decision yet, but yes, it’s becoming more likely with every passing cycle that’s the decision I will be forced to make. Dr. Aguilar has already apologized to you for any part she played in this, and I promise you here and now that I will call you as soon as my final decision’s been made—and I’ll do that before I make the announcement to Canis Lupus at large.”
“That’s so very feckin’ generous of yeh,” Plunkett commented. He slapped the com-unit and the captain’s window vanished. Plunkett glared at Ichiko and Chava. “Both of yeh get out,” he said. “Now.”
Ichiko looked at Chava, who nodded. “I’m sorry for this, Minister,” Ichiko told the man again. “Truly, I am.”
He didn’t answer as they left the office and the pub.
* * *
“Well, that went well, didn’t it?” Chava said as they exited the pub. The small crowd outside was still there and still scowling—though they were no longer shouting—and moved aside to allow Ichiko and Chava to walk to their flitter. Both women could hear a constant low muttering of curses and insults from the group; they pretended not to hear any of it, keeping their heads down and avoiding making eye contact. Once in the flitter, they closed the windshield over them. Ichiko leaned back in her seat and exhaled a long sigh.
“Everything’s suddenly topsy-turvy,” she said. “Minister Plunkett . . .” She shook her head, but Chava snorted.
“. . . is a total asshole,” she finished, “and the Rí should have hit him much harder to knock some sense into the man’s head.”
Ichiko had to laugh. “That’s hardly a good diplomatic solution.”
“I’m just a soldier,” Chava answered. “I prefer soldierlike solutions.” She patted the pulse pistol at her side.
Ichiko laughed again. “I think the captain would have both our heads if we’d tried something like that. AMI, take us back to First Base.”
The rotors of the flitter whined as it started to rise from the ground, turning to head up the Mail Road toward Connor Pass Road and lifting higher as they moved. But when they reached the intersection of Mail Road and Connor Pass Road, still rising but below the level of the rooftops, shadows moved across the canopy as a thick netting fell over the flitter’s top, snarling the rotors so that the flitter canted dangerously and sent an alarm wailing in the cabin.
AMI was howling in Ichiko’s ear, but she could pay no attention to the voice. The manual controls sprouted from the console. Chava clutched at them, trying desperately to right the flitter, but now another rotor had fouled in the netting and the flitter was tumbling down to the street, rocking sideways and crashing into the buildings on either side. Their impact with the ground slammed Ichiko back in her seat as the restraints tightened around her, leaving Ichiko stunned. They came to rest at a steep, canted angle.
“Chava?” she called desperately, but the woman didn’t answer. She looked to her right; Chava was lolling in her restraints, eyes closed and unconscious, a fan of blood across her face and shoulder from a cut on her forehead. Did her bio-shield fail? There were figures around them beyond the dirty, scratched windshield. Bricks and rocks were pounding the side of the flitter. She could hear angry shout
ing outside.
“AMI, contact First Base; have them send help! Chava and I are under attack here.”
“I’m not sure that’s going to be possible,” Ichiko answered.
It wasn’t. Already, the canopy over them was broken. As the canopy was pried and wrenched open, she saw Chava being cut from her restraints and dragged from the flitter. Other sets of hands were trying to do the same with her; she pushed back at them, shouting. Someone clutched her wrists but abruptly let go, cursing, as the bio-shield shocked them in warning. But more hands reached in afterward as a knife blade sliced the webbing of her seat restraint; Ichiko fell sideways and down into the side of the flitter, landing on her hands and feet and nearly falling from the vehicle. Everything was confusion around her. She had no idea where Chava was. She didn’t know how many people surrounded the flitter; they were simply a sea of unrecognizable faces, dressed as workers and tradespeople and fishing folk. Did Plunkett set this up, or was it others? It didn’t matter. More important to her was continuing to push away those grasping hands that wanted to snatch her and take her from the flitter.
“MOVE AWAY FROM THE FLITTER!” an impossibly loud and booming voice declared. Ichiko could hear it echoing against the buildings around them. “THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING! MOVE AWAY!” That was followed by the chatter of a weapon being fired into the air. The crowd around the flitter scrambled away at the sound, vanishing like insects in sudden light as a large, black-painted military drone descended to hover in the street next to the flitter, its rotors lashing the air. “Dr. Aguilar, are you injured?” a voice from the drone’s speaker asked. A bar of searing green light emitted by the drone slid over her. “Your bio-shield appears to be intact, thankfully.”
“I . . . I think I’m all right. Mostly, anyway,” she answered. “But they pulled Chava—Lieutenant Bishara—out of the flitter. I don’t know where she is.” She could hear the panic in her voice.
“Stay where you are,” the drone voice said. “A squad from First Base will be here in less than three minutes. The other drone is searching for Lieutenant Bishara. Don’t worry; we’ll find her.” Rotors whining, the drone spun around its axis, lifted, and went out of her vision. Ichiko tried to pull herself up, swinging her legs out of the half-open canopy. She let herself slide out of the flitter despite the drone pilot’s admonition, standing in the street amid the wreckage of the flitter and the buildings on either side of the street. Her breath was fast and ragged, and her heart was still pounding madly from the fright and the rush of adrenaline. She could see the netting that had brought them down: thick, braided rope—a fishing net, likely, but one designed for large prey that might break the strands of the lighter netting she’d seen in use in the archipelago. Lines from the net had been attached to the nearest buildings to stop them from escaping the snare. The body of the flitter was dented and bent, the windshield cracked and the hinges broken. She doubted that she’d ever see it flying again.
She could hear footsteps coming around the front of the flitter. She readied herself to run if she needed to, then gave a cry of relief. She saw the Odysseus insignia on an armored body and the reflective shimmer of the headpiece as well as the stubby barrel of a disperser cradled at the ready position in the soldier’s arms. Two other armed noncommissioned ratings flanked the soldier, their attention on the buildings to either side. “Dr. Aguilar?” a voice asked through the helmet speaker. “I’m Ensign Collins from First Base. Please come with me.”
Ichiko shook her head. “Lieutenant Bishara?” she asked.
“We have her also,” Collins said, but even through the speaker, Ichiko heard a strange tone to his voice. “She’s already in our carrier flitter.”
“Is Lieutenant Bishara all right?” Collins’ hesitation was palpable. “I could see she was hurt. Ensign, I’m not leaving with you until I know.”
“The lieutenant is alive, and her injuries appear to be relatively minor,” Collins answered.
“But . . . ?”
“Dr. Aguilar, we really need to leave ASAP for everyone’s safety.” Collins’ breath rattled the speaker, then: “I’m afraid her bio-shield was compromised either during the crash or in the attack.”
“Oh, God. No . . .” The denial was a soft breath, to which Collins nodded faintly
“I’m really sorry, Doctor, but please—we need to go now.”
Ichiko nodded. She followed the trio of soldiers back to the carrier sitting in the middle of the street a half-block away.
* * *
“Chava?”
Ichiko watched the woman’s eyes flutter open behind the isolation chambers’ glass window. First Base’s medic stood nearby, not saying anything but watching the chamber’s display along with another tech. “Hey, Ichiko,” Chava said, her voice thinned by the microphone in the room. Ichiko hoped that was why she sounded so weak. Someone had cleaned up and sealed the cut on her forehead. “Just so you know, next time you ask me to come with you to Dulcia, I’m going to give you a hard pass. You can take someone else.”
Ichiko tried to smile at her and failed. She pressed her fingers against the glass. “I’m so sorry.”
She saw Chava shrug under the sheets. “Wasn’t your fault. It was the fucking Canines who attacked us.”
Ichiko couldn’t muster the breath or desire to correct her language. “How are you feeling?”
Chava snagged her lower lip with her teeth before replying. She blinked as if trying to clear her vision. “I’m a little scared, honestly,” she said. “My bio-shield . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“I know. But you weren’t exposed for very long. I’ve talked to Captain Keshmiri and Commander Mercado. There’s a shuttle already on its way down, and you’ll be going up to Odysseus with it. The medical staff there’s going to take great care of you.”
Chava stared at Ichiko with forlorn eyes. “And I’ll have to be in isolation forever, like the Canines we already have up there. I’m not sure I can bear that, Ichiko.”
“You don’t know that, and that’s not what the captain told me. Your exposure to Canis Lupus was limited—probably no more than fifteen minutes at the most. You’re not like the Lupusians who have been breathing the air and being exposed to all the bacteria and viruses and the rest all their lives. You might experience no ill effects at all.”
That managed to get a momentary smile from Chava, who then coughed. “Sorry,” she said. “A tickle in my throat.” She smiled again. “You know, you told me more than once that you wanted to know what Canis Lupus smelled like and what the air tasted like. Well, I’ve smelled it. The strongest odor was the sea, even through the smoke and electrical smell of the crashed flitter. There was a distinct briny tang, like I remember from being on the Mediterranean beaches, but there were also odors and flavors to Dulcia’s air that I simply can’t describe, like nothing I’d experienced before. I wish I could say it better for you.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that, and I want to hear everything you have to say,” Ichiko told her. “But right now, let’s get you up to Odysseus.” She rapped her knuckles on the glass b
etween them. “I’m going to go up to the shuttle bay and make sure they’re ready for you. I also had a call from Saoirse that I probably should return before we leave.”
Chava nodded. She cleared her throat and coughed again. “No problem. It’s not like I’m going anywhere right now.”
For The World’s More Full Of Weeping Than You Can Understand
SAOIRSE STARTED TALKING EVEN before the holo window above the com-unit had fully opened and focused. Her words tumbled out in a tangled rush. “Ichiko? Thanks for calling me back. Listen, I have to tell yeh that I think me Uncle Angus has done something he shouldn’t have, and some of it . . . a lot of it . . . well, most of it is my fault. He’s evidently said things to Minister Plunkett about the Mainlanders yeh have on yer ship and how they’re still dangerous, then their argument escalated into a brawl in Murphy’s Alehouse and . . .”
In the window, Ichiko lifted a finger to her lips. “I already know,” the Terran said. “That’s why I was ordered to come back to First Base. It’s been a long cycle already.” She then told Saoirse about her meeting with Plunkett and what had happened afterward.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Saoirse said as Ichiko described the attack. Tears welled in Saoirse’s eyes, and she could feel the moisture sliding down her cheeks. “That’s awful. How’s yer friend? I can’t imagine . . . Was it Clan Plunkett that did this? What were they thinking?”
In the window, Ichiko shrugged. “We don’t know yet who’s responsible. As for Chava, she’s fine so far, but we really don’t know yet. She’s about to be shuttled up to Odysseus for treatment and observation. Saoirse, I’m going with her and it might be some time before I can talk to you again or come back down to the archipelago.”
Saoirse took a deep breath. “Because of what I did, because of what Angus and Liam did to the Minister?”
Amid the Crowd of Stars Page 25
