ARC: Under Nameless Stars (11 page)

Later – Zenn wasn’t sure how much later – she was out in the corridor, sitting on a bench set into the bulkhead. Someone had draped a blanket around her shoulders. Jules had arrived and had located a cup of hot tea for her. He stood over her now, fidgeting nervously, and, for once, apparently speechless.

A short distance away, Stav Travosk spoke in low tones to Captain Oolo. “I overheard two of the stewards talking. Something about a disturbance on this deck. I… thought I’d investigate.”

“Well, a lucky thing you came along, Lieutenant,” the Captain said. “Wouldn’t you agree, Novice Bodine? Lucky the lieutenant came along?”

“Yes. Lucky,” Zenn said, forcing a smile, her emotions jumbled. The young lieutenant had dropped the slug in mid-lunge. Obviously, the man had just saved her life. But the animal hadn’t attacked her out of malice; it did what came naturally to a creature bred to fight, trained to attack. Instead of feeling glad to be alive, she felt sick to her stomach.

“Sure you’re not hurt?” Stav asked her, his piercing look now edged with concern.

“No, I’m OK,” she said, her voice still wavering. She added, almost inaudibly, “I just wish… you didn’t have to kill it.”

“Not much of a choice,” Stav said. “It was almost on top of you. You could have been badly hurt. Worse.” He regarded her for a few seconds. “You really do have a… special feeling for creatures like this, don’t you? For creatures in general. I suppose it goes with the territory. Being an exovet.”

She nodded, let her eyes stray to the slug’s smoking carcass, then looked quickly away.

“I don’t see how it could have gotten loose.” The Captain craned his long neck to peer into the cabin. “Guest Thrott would have been apprised of ship’s regulations regarding the transport of dangerous animals.” The Captain shook his head, turned to Stav. “Thank the gods you came along when you did. If the creature had escaped into the passageways, there’s no calculating the damage it could have caused.”

“Just lucky, like you said,” Stav replied.

“Guest Bodine, I apologize again for this entirely unacceptable event,” the Captain chittered, his warble rising half an octave as his he turned his hooded eyes to her. “If there’s any way I can make it up to you, anything at all, you must not hesitate to let me know.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Captain.”

“No, no. The
Helen
is my ship. All that happens aboard her is my responsibility.” He smoothed his chest feathers with one claw. “Please, you must allow me to make it up to you.”

“No, really,” she said, not wanting any special attention, not wanting any attention at all. The only thing she wanted was to be away from everyone, back in Jules’s cabin, safe, unnoticed.

“Actually,” Stav said, addressing the Captain, “I have a suggestion. The Novice is clearly someone who appreciates… exotic life-forms. I understand that under certain circumstances, a guest might be invited to visit a starliner’s Indra chamber, to have an up-close encounter with a stonehorse. I understand you’ll be conducting pre-tunnel preparations tomorrow morning? What do you think, Captain?”

The Ornithope’s head bobbed in agreement.

“Outstanding idea, Lieutenant,” he said. “That would be the perfect opportunity. Novice?”

“The Indra chamber?” Zenn’s unsettled state cleared considerably at the words.

“But only if you feel up to it,” the Captain said.

“No, I mean, yes, I’d love to. Thank you.”

“Guest Vancouver as well. And your father, naturally.”

“Oh…” she stammered, “…Dad’s not feeling so great just now. All the excitement of traveling. The strange food, you know, his stomach.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. But it does affect some passengers that way,” the Captain said.

A pair of stewards had arrived and were now gingerly covering the slug’s body in what appeared to be a sort of plastic body bag.

“I can only repeat, I’m mystified how this could have come about,” the Captain said.

“Perhaps Thrott’s servant can shed some light on it all?” Stav Travosk said. “You did say it was his slave who brought you here?”

Zenn nodded.

“Yes. Perhaps,” the Captain said. “When we locate her.”

“You can’t find her?” Zenn asked.

“No… “ the Captain said, eyes squinting as he scratched his lower bill with one taloned finger. “I suspect this tragic affair has to do with her master’s illicit animal fighting. Guest Thrott has a fondness for gambling, I’m told, legal or otherwise. He too seems to have gone missing. There will be hard questions for him when he is located.”

“Well, if you don’t need me any longer,” Stav said to the Captain, “I’ll turn in for the night.” His silver gaze turned to Zenn. “Novice, you’ll be a bit more careful wandering about the ship? Please?”

“Yes. I’ll try,” was all she could manage. She focused on sipping her tea, but her

thoughts were a fractured mosaic of conflicting images: the slug’s ferocious form bearing down on her, the heat of the soldier’s weapon scorching the air above her – and now, the giddy prospect of again being in the presence of a
Lithohippus indrae
. The combination created in her the uncomfortable sensation of no longer being anchored in her own body but standing somewhere outside it, looking back at a trembling, red-headed girl sitting on a bench, covered in a blanket.

TWELVE

“The mudlark,” Zenn said to Jules as they finished their breakfast in his cabin the next morning. “It was afraid, and it was picking up all the voices at the party. That’s when I heard the Skirni’s voice. Pokt. He was there, in the hall, or nearby. They recognized me somehow.”

“They?” Jules said, going to the sideboard in his cabin for another helping of oysters. “You heard more than one?”

“Yes. I couldn’t identify the other one. Too many voices, too much interference.”

“And you say these two spoke of being on a schedule, to deliver a nexus to someone, or someplace? Do you know what they mean by this?”

“Jules, I have no idea. All I know is that they seem to think I have this nexus. But I don’t even know what it is.”

“A nexus, I believe, has the definition as being a point of intersection,” he said. “Like a central thing that connects one thing, or many things, to some another things. Is that of any assistance to your understanding?”

“No,” she said. “Whenever a link happens, I can’t even think straight, after. Makes me tired and foggy. It’s hard to even remember exactly what happened. And then the slug, in Thrott’s cabin. I’m having a little trouble… organizing.”

“That is why I go to the pool on this ship. It helps my thinking to become more ordered.”

“So,” Zenn said, “did you enjoy your swim?”

“Swim? No, no, I was not engaged in swimming this morning.” He gave a mournful chirruping sound. “I was feeling remorseful. About not escorting you from the party gathering last night. It was my duty to bodyguard you and I went to gamble. This was selfish behavior and thus you were nearly slain by the poison-slug.”

“Jules, I told you,” she said, shaking her head at him, “that was not your fault. And besides, I’m OK now. So, if you weren’t swimming, why go to the pool?”

“I went to stand at the edge and observe,” he said. “There are often lizard children at play in the pool at this early hour. It is entertaining to see their antics. And I find the water has a calming effect, as I said, on my thinking. I thought of my failure at bodyguarding and how I might improve my future behavior. Have you had any news during my absence? Of Master Thrott or his servant’s whereabouts?”

“No, nothing,” she said. “I told the Captain about the animal fight, about stopping it, what Thrott said. The Captain thought if Thrott was really behind the attack, he’d probably go into hiding down in steerage. Apparently, a person can disappear for weeks down there.”

“Yes, your Liam Tucker is fortunate in that regard, at least.”

The door to the corridor chimed, then, and it announced a visitor. It was Yed.

“Good morning to you, Guest Vancouver,” the steward said. Then, seeing Zenn, he added, “Ah, Guest Bodine! I come with news for you.” The steward stood grinning and rocking back and forth on his wide flipper feet. “Captain Oolo requests that you both join him for your visit to the Indra chambers.”

“Oh,” Zenn said. “Right now?”

“Yes, if that suits you,” Yed said. “I can take you to the Captain as soon as you are prepared.”

Retreating to her bedroom, Zenn wrapped her scarf around her face. Now that the Skirni Pokt knew she was aboard, she would have to be more careful than ever to avoid being identified. But a trip to the Indra chamber? It was simply too enticing to resist. Besides, she rationalized, her refusal now could also raise suspicions.

They were about to leave the cabin when Katie confronted her, plopping herself down in front of the door.

“Friend-Zenn goes now?” she signed, sitting up on her hindquarters.

“Yes. But only for a little. Coming right back.”

“Katie go with?”

“No. Sorry! Not this time.”

Katie’s ringed tail whipped in agitation. “How soon coming back?”

“Very soon,” Zenn spoke the words to her, to see if she recognized them, which she apparently did.

“Friend-Zenn! Friend-Zenn!”

“Yes, Katie?”

“Katie have breakfasty food? Food now?”

Zenn sighed.

“Friend-Zenn brings Katie treats when she comes back,” Zenn told her.

“Big promise?”

“Big, big promise,” Zenn spoke and signed just to be sure she understood.

This seemed to satisfy the rikkaset – barely. She jumped into one of the chairs and curled up, watching as Zenn and the others left the room.

The steward led Zenn and Jules on a circuitous route going down through the ship and back toward the stern. At every corner they rounded, Zenn half expected to run into the Skirni Pokt, but it was early enough that they met only a few passengers. When they’d gone almost as far as they could go in the passenger section, they found the Captain standing in the corridor, speaking into his sleeve screen. He looked up when he saw them approaching.

“Novice Bodine, Guest Vancouver, I’m pleased you could join me.” He preened his chest feathers as he spoke, smoothing the multicolored feathers until they lay flat. “Are you quite recovered from last night? Feeling ready to be up and about?”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, Captain,” Zenn said. “Would we, Jules?”

“No, it is not an experience to be passed by, I am told,” Jules said.

“It’s very kind of you, Captain,” Zenn said. “I know this must be a busy time, with the tunneling coming up.”

“It is the least I could do. The very least. After last night. And what you did for my Cleevus as well.” He turned to the waiting steward. “Thank you for guiding our guests down, Yed.”

“Of course, Captain,” he said, snapping off a brisk salute before turning to Zenn and Jules. “ I trust you will enjoy your visit to the chambers.” He stood smiling up at them. And stood. And smiled. At last, Jules realized what was called for. He held up his relay, and Yed held up his, accepting the tip.

“Thank you, Guest Vancouver,” he said, and trotted back the way he’d come.

“So, Novice Bodine,” the Captain said, gesturing for them to proceed down the corridor, “is this your first time aboard an Indra vessel?”

“No, actually.” She had, of course, been aboard an Indra ship before. But the frightful details of that encounter weren’t something she chose to revisit, at least voluntarily. “It was a long time ago,” she told him, and left it at that.

“And you?” the captain asked Jules.

“It is my first journey on such a craft,” Jules said. “I too am most grateful for your allowing us to see your wondrous Indra.”

“Don’t mention it,” the Captain said. “Although I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to speak with Groom Treth about your visit to her chambers. But I’m sure she’ll overlook the usual preconditions.”

“Preconditions?” Zenn said.

“Groom Treth is strict. About who is allowed into her chamber. And when. But Treth, like you, Novice, has a special interest in non-human creatures. Well, it goes with the territory, wouldn’t you say? I suspect you’ll be welcomed as a kindred soul.”

A minute later, they rounded a corner in the passageway and nearly collided with someone coming in the opposite direction. It was the young lieutenant, Stav Travosk.

“Captain,” he said. “Glad I ran into you.”

“Lieutenant, good morning,” the Captain said. “We’re just going aft to the chamber. You’re welcome to join us.”

“Thank you,” Stav said. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. We just received new marching orders, I’m afraid.”

“Oh?” the Captain said.

“Ambassador Noom informed me at breakfast. It seems we won’t be heading back to Eta Cephei just yet.”

“Really?” the Captain said. “I hope there’s not a problem.”

“No, no. Just diplomatic hair-splitting as far as I know. Loose ends in need of tying up. In any case, she tells me we’ve been recalled to Earth. We’ll be going back on the last shuttle.”

“The shuttle to Earth?” The Captain eyed his sleeve-screen. “It should be ready to cast off any minute. I’m sorry I won’t be able to see you and the Ambassador off personally. Please, convey my wishes for a safe journey.”

“I will, Captain.” Stav offered them all a quick smile. “Now the Ambassador will be waiting for me at the docking bay, so I’ll say goodbye. Thank you for everything.” He shook hands with the Captain, then turned to Zenn, again taking her hand. “Miss Bodine, until we meet again.” Zenn found this a quaint sort of thing to say. But, curiously, the way he said it made Zenn feel that they might very well meet once more. She also found that the prospect didn’t displease her. Then he strode off down the passageway.

“I hope their return to Earth implies nothing too serious,” the Captain said as they came to a lev-car door with a sign reading “No Admittance – Crew Only”. This, Zenn knew, concealed the special car that would transport them astern to the distant Indra chambers. The Captain identified himself to the door, which opened to admit them.

Zenn wondered briefly about the ambassador being recalled to Earth. It would be a long sub-light flight for them. It seemed to Zenn that there must be more involved than “a little diplomatic hair-splitting” to demand such a trip, but, as the car gently accelerated, her full attention turned to what lay ahead, and the prospect of entering the sanctum sanctorum where the sleeping stonehorse waited.

The entrance to the Indra chamber was guarded by a ponderous slab of gleaming metalloy bristling with locking bolts and conveying all the solid heft of a bank vault door. The Captain leaned his head into the recess containing the door’s bio-key. A bright white line of light played over his features as the door scanned his head and eyes and, with a brief sound of sucking air, took a sample of the minute molecules of aerosolized saliva in his breath. An instant later, the bio-key’s analysis of the DNA in the saliva was complete, and a small red diode on the door blinked from red to green. The bio-key’s voice reported the Captain was who he claimed, and the door’s huge locking bolts clanged and squealed as they were pulled aside. With a misty exhalation, the door swung open. They stepped into a small airlock. The door banged shut behind them, and before them, another, smaller door swung open.

As with Zenn’s first visit to a starliner pilot room, the air inside was bitter cold, the interior illuminated only by the weak light of the read-out panels and glowing monitor screens lining the walls. In the oversized pilot chair in the center of the room sat a shape with its back to them. The shape was encased in a helmet and bulky full-body interface suit made of some glossy dark green plastisyn material. Zenn let the ends of the scarf drop away from her face but kept it covering her head for the scant warmth it offered.

A sweet, smoky scent filled the room. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she could just make out the source of the odor: a small altar made of reddish stone slabs, set up within a shallow alcove in the wall. The blackened remains of smoldering branches lay on top of the stone platform, prompting Zenn to wonder where the Groom’s sacrist was and to consider that the most complex spacefaring machines ever constructed could be piloted by a cult of pagan nature-worshippers. This never ceased to amaze Zenn. But the fact was, it worked, and she had to give them credit for that extraordinary feat. A lot of credit.

Zenn went to the viewing window of foot-thick ballistiplast that overlooked the vast, hangar-like Indra chamber. It was empty, but she could see, almost hidden in shadow, the huge black oval that marked the entrance to the warren – the contorted artificial labyrinth of metal and dynacarbon that concealed the Indra deep within.

Turning toward the Groom, Zenn thought the Indra pilot didn’t so much sit in the chair as grow out of it. A tangled assortment of wires, tubes and strands of a translucent spiderweb-like material connected the Groom’s interface-suit to the chair’s numerous ports and inputs. It was here the pilot participated in the almost mystical phenomenon of Indra-powered interstellar flight. Through the complex ritual of the threshold procedure, the Groom would convey the coordinates of the desired destination through the suit to the Indra. Through a process that was still only partially understood, the Indra would “read” this data and move up out of her warren – “hers” because all drive-Indra were female, as were all pilots. She would then occupy the main chamber and commence the improbable mystery of interdimensional tunneling.

“Groom Treth,” the Captain addressed the unmoving figure in the chair, the tone of his voice assuming a slight but noticeable formality, “I have taken the liberty of bringing two of our guests into the chamber rooms. Novice Bodine here, you will be interested to learn, is an exo–”

With a single, sudden movement, the Groom came up out of the chair. Sparks burst into the darkened room like miniature fireworks as wires and tubing popped out of the sockets sprouting from the suit’s torso and helmet. The wires whipped briefly in the air like angry serpents, then retracted into the chair with a series of metallic slithering sounds and sharp yelps of electronic alarms.

“Captain Oolo, this is not acceptable,” the Groom snapped, pulling the helmet off and releasing an obscuring cloud of heated air that billowed out from inside the suit. When the fog cleared, Zenn saw the pilot’s striking face bore the intricate living tattoos and multiple piercings of the Procyoni. The woman was almost as tall as Jules on his mech-legs. She had brown, almond-shaped eyes, sculpted cheekbones and a waist-length rope of black hair that now uncoiled to fall down her back. Brushing past Zenn and Jules as if they didn’t exist, she leaned into the Captain’s face. The scattering of metal studs, rings and tiny chains ornamenting her face and ears glinted against her mocha-tinted skin. The Captain blinked at her, brilliant chest feathers fluffing out defensively.

“Union regulations are clear – for those who can read them.” The Groom’s voice was low but tense, and she bit her words off sharply, her clipped Procyoni dialect making her sound even more severe. “Advance permissions are required to enter the chamber.”

“My apologies, of course, Groom Treth,” the Captain said, his eyes going quite round. “But, as I was about to explain, Novice Bodine is an exovet, Ciscan-trained. I thought you would appreciate meeting her.”

After a dismissive glance at Zenn, the Groom turned back to the Captain.

“No. It is not the point. I am in pre-tunnel. My sacrist and I should be engaged in preparatory meditation. Our minds should be stilled to feel the Indra and her state. Instead, I am unsettled and my sacrist absent. Where is he? He is with the meddling Skirni you sent to me, escorting him back to the passenger decks where he belongs.”

“The Skirni I sent you?” the Captain said, head bobbing up and down once in surprise.

“Yes. That Skirni. And now there are more interruptions with these two… guests! It is not to be endured.”

“What Skirni do you mean?”

“Pokt Mahg-something,” Treth said. Zenn looked at Jules, who returned her glance but said nothing. “He was here. Just now. He came with only your note for admission to my chamber. Not advance permission as required.” The Groom snatched up a small v-film lying on top of a monitor console and thrust it toward the Captain. He took it, and his eyes widened even further as he read it.

“This is most unusual – most unusual,” the Captain said, blinking at the film. “I never received a request from this Guest Pokt to visit your chamber.”

“Then why is the permission signed by you?” The Groom tapped the film with one gloved finger, then crossed her arms and stood steaming before them.

“I did not sign this,” the Captain told her, chest feathers rising and falling in time with his words. “There must be some misunderstanding. Did he… give any reason for his visit?”

“All he wanted was to see the chamber and waste my time with questions that any child could answer. I told him to leave.”

The Captain turned to Zenn and Jules. “You must forgive us. There has obviously been some sort of miscommunication here.” The Captain lifted his sleeve screen and punched up the comm function. “I’ll get this sorted out.” There was a brief pause as he waited for the person on the other end to answer.

“Yes,” he said into his sleeve. “This is the Captain. Put the Officer of the Deck on.” There was the faint, unintelligible chattering of a voice coming softly from the earbud on the side of the Captain’s head. “Flynn? Oolo here,” the Captain continued. “I have a situation in the chamber. What? No. What do you mean?” The Captain swiveled his neck around in Zenn’s direction. “She is here with me now, in the chamber.” A jolt of apprehension ran through her. There was another pause as the Captain listened to the far-off voice. “Are you certain? I see. No. I’ll take care of it. But there’s something else. Hold on.”

The Captain lowered his head to Zenn’s level. “We’ve just had a message from Mars. From the Ciscan cloister. Someone claiming to be your uncle.” He waited a moment, watching for Zenn’s reaction. “It seems you’ve deceived me, Novice Bodine… or should I say, Novice Scarlett?”