Delta Pavonis (23 page)

"That may be true, but there are limits, even for me. I hardly ever hear from my sons and daughters from one year to the next. I'm glad I have you with me now."

Deirdre felt the tears returning. "I wish I could tell you how good that makes me feel. I've felt so alone, lately."

"Dierdre, I'm going to pretend to be a physician and prescribe you a sedative. I want you to return to your quarters and get a minimum of eight hours sleep. I can manage here for the next shift."

Dierdre got out of the chair, feeling a little woozy. "I guess I could use some sleep. It's been an eventful twenty-four hours, hasn't it?"

"I think you've been up for about forty, and I shouldn't have permitted it, but I was flustered and anxious, too. Right now, fatigue won't do either of us any good." She went to the med chest and withdrew a dose tube, pressing it against the skin inside Dierdre's elbow. "Tired as you are, you're probably too wrought up to sleep. This'll make sure. Now go on. At least eight hours, remember?"

"Sure," she said, sleepily. "You'll wake me if he comes back, won't you?"

"Of course, now go lie down."

Sieglinde watched as Dierdre staggered off toward her quarters. A few minutes later, she looked in and saw her assistant sprawled across her bunk, fully dressed and snoring. Sieglinde tugged her boots off, drew a blanket over her and turned out the light before she closed the door behind herself.

Dierdre didn't get eight full hours of sleep. After seven hours, Sieglinde woke her. The aliens had made official contact.

THIRTEEN

It felt strange to be in space again. Dierdre had only been up a few times since first taking the shuttle down to the planet. Each trip had been increasingly uncomfortable. She had become acclimatized to planetside life and space was fast becoming an unnatural environment to her. The people of the orbitals and the free-ranging ships had looks and habits that now seemed strange. Zero-gee made her queasy and she had to take anti-nausea medication.

The alien vessel had altered its orbit, gradually approaching Avalon. It would rendezvous within a few hours.

Dierdre gazed through a port at the great asteroid-ship that had been her home during her later school years. It was an irregular mass of hollowed-out rock and artificial structures, landing docks and drive units. It was the largest of the old asteroid colonies, and the largest vessel ever sent by humans out of the Sol system. The alien vessel was not yet visible.

They docked at the North Polar Facility, the shuttle's landing pods cleated to the surface although the centrifugal effect generated by Avalon's spin was absent here. The planetoid-ship had one Earth normal spin-induced gravity in its outer layers, near theequator lessening to near zero-gee close to the center and the poles. Inhabitants could choose whatever felt most comfortable.

A corrugated umbilicus extruded from a lock and fastened itself over the shuttle's exit hatch, fattening as air pressurized its interior. A gong sounded as the hatch opened and the passengers unstrapped themselves.

"Come on," Sieglinde said. "We might as well get this over with."

"What do you mean?" Dierdre asked. "The Arum—" she caught herself. "I mean the aliens won t be arriving for a while yet."

"Watch your tongue. I doubt that anybody's spying, but plenty of snoopy people have sensitive ears."

"Sorry."

"It's not the aliens I dread just now." They left the shuttle and entered the old customs area, unused for its former purpose since the diaspora of the Island Worlds. It was not, however, deserted. A subdued uproar began with Sieglinde's appearance, and the crowd surged forward. It was largely made up of people wearing optical headgear and accompanied by hovering camerabots. In a word: newsies.

"Dr. Kornfeld-Taggart!" a man shouted, "what will the aliens do next?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"Dr. Kornfeld," a woman said, "are we in danger?"

"You know as much as I do."

A camerabot swooped within a meter of Sieglinde's face, an extreme rudeness by Island World standards. Dierdre drew her pistol and leveled it at the buzzing device. "Get that thing out of her face or I'll shoot it down!" The camerabot swooped away, the crowd parted to both sides, clearing her line of fire, and the noise quieted. There were times when her wild-woman image was a real help.

Wyeth, the
Althing
man, came through the newly-cleared path, a conciliatory hand thrust forward. "That isn't necessary, Miss Jamail."

"Maybe not yet." She held the pistol at high port, finger off the firing stud.

He smiled ingratiatingly. "Please, put it away."

With a show of reluctance, she jammed the weapon back into its holster. She glowered at the newsies. "If you want to ask Dr. Kornfeld any questions, you do it quietly, one at a time. I don't know what you expect anyway. The aliens have yet to open official contact." There, she hadn't actually lied.

"Where will you be staying?" Wyeth asked her as Sieglinde talked to the newsies.

"At Sieglinde's suite in the Kuroda stronghold. The old Ciano lab is too far from the
Althing
chamber if things start breaking fast." Ciano lab was a separate rock attached to Avalon. Sieglinde kept her usual orbital residence there. "You can keep in contact with us through our belt comms. We'll have them with us at all times. Don't bother using the Avalonian comm system, it might be too slow."

Wyeth addressed Sieglinde, who had dismissed the newsies with promises of a full interview as soon as First Contact was concluded. "Dr. Kornfeld, if you think it's necessary, we can arrange for quarters next to the
Althing
chambers."

"No. If they rush us that badly, it will probably mean hostile action. In that case, the Sálamids will take over and the rest of us had better just keep out of the way."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

They walked into the tube station and stepped into a passenger car. "What's the Sálamid position since things started happening?" Sieglinde asked.

"It has been decided that a liaison setup could be too slow and awkward under the circumstances. The Chief of Staff will be present in the Althing chamber during all ceremonies and negotiations. He will take no part unless authorized by the Speaker," Wyeth told her.

"Who is Chief of Staff these days?" Sieglinde said.

"A General Moore."

Sieglinde nodded. "I knew his father, back during the First War. Met him my first day in Avalon. He was with Thor and Hjalmar Taggart and that da Sousa woman. Thor looked like hell, he'd just come in off a raid. " She smiled at the memory. "The father was a General Moore, too. An easy man to deal with, as I recall. Let's hope the son's the same way."

"Could you make anything of the alien's transmission that the others couldn't?"

She shook her head. "It seemed straightforward enough. " It had been broadcast in the clear, merely a series of numerals giving time, velocities and rendezvous coordinates.

"Except as regards intentions," he said.

"No, they're giving very little away. Perhaps they merely have a keen sense of the dramatic."

"That's an inordinately anthropomorphic speculation, coming from a scientist."

"I'm not an ordinary scientist." She fiddled with something at her belt and the figures scrolled upward past her face. "They're also coming terribly close, for such a large vessel."

"It didn't escape our notice," he said.

"I think we can assume that they have the expertise to pull it off, considering the other capabilities they've displayed."

The car stopped at the Kuroda stronghold, where Wyeth took his leave of them. A serious-looking young man greeted them at the landing.

"Aunt Sieglinde," he said, bowing stiffly.

"Dierdre, this is Massimo Kuroda, Derek's nephew."

"Miss Jamail," he bowed again, this time not quite as low. He had light brown hair and a wispy mustache. She could see no resemblance to Derek. "Aunt Sieglinde," he continued, "your suite is ready. It has been swept and declared secure, for whatever good that does in this situation."

Sieglinde raised an eyebrow. "Is the clan on wartime status?"

"Since the situation is unknown and tense, we have gone to standby alert." They followed him through the massive main door of the stronghold. "Since you will be very busy and your schedule is likely to be crowded, there will be no formal family functions. Just come and go as suits you, and ignore the rest of us. You, too, Miss Jamail. Ordinarily, we are very keen on family ritual. Please don't feel neglected. The clan chiefs have ordered that you are not to be bothered or detained in any way."

"That is most thoughtful. Shoes off, Dierdre." She took off her own and lined them up next to a dozen pairs of footwear ranging from boots to sandals. "Tell Anastasia that when this is over, we'll have a big family get-together and I'll bring everybody up to date."

Knowing Sieglinde, Dierdre thought, she'd probably have the news conference at the same time. That would conserve on time and let her get back to work all the sooner. She examined her surroundings with fascination.

The Kuroda stronghold had been carved from the rock of Avalon in the early days of asteroid settlement, when times had been decidedly unsettled, with feuding, claim-jumping and outright banditry not uncommon. The place was a fortress, its nearest neighboring dwellings separated by many meters of rock, its accesses tightly controlled. The extended Kuroda-Ciano-Taggart-da Sousa clan was dominated by the Kurodas, and the Kurodas had never considered peacetime to be more than a temporary aberration. The stronghold had never been penetrated in either of the two wars nor in innumerable subsequent intrigues.

The floors were covered with tatami, woven reed mats unknown among the Island Worlds except for Avalon, where the reeds were grown and a family of craftsmen practiced the art. Scrolls of Chinese and Japanese calligraphy hung here and there, and a rack of ancient swords stood against one wall.

Sieglinde led her through a labyrinth of corridors and down a flight of stairs to a suite of rooms furnished in the more familiar Avalonian style—flimsy, light-gravity furniture, mineral-fiber carpeting and colorful, holographic decoration. Dierdre dropped their bags and sat on a low couch. They had not bothered to pack more than minimal articles. They could buy anything they might need in Avalon.

"Low-grav's going to take some getting used to, but it's sure easier on your back and feet."

"Mm? Oh, yes. It is." Sieglinde seemed decidedly abstracted.

"Doc? What's wrong?"

"I feel my instincts are slipping. I didn't think that they'd make their first move at Avalon. I thought they'd use the main transporter facility."

"They did. One did, anyway, so consider yourself half-right. And we can't be really sure that M'ats wasn't sent ahead by their authorities. Maybe they wanted to check us out in person before making a public move."

"Maybe. We'll probably know pretty soon." She changed mood. "Do you know where you are?"

"Where?" She had been enjoying these odd mood shifts of Sieglinde's since the sudden, unexpected intimacy of the evening before. She suspected that it was a part of Sieglinde's personality usually hidden from others.

"It's the Kuroda fort. Legendary, of course, but pretty much as I pictured it."

"You're also directly below Antigone Ciano's suite. We'll go up there later, if we have time. She's probably in residence considering the circumstances. If you can survive the decor up there, nothing the aliens have will shock you."

"The Cianos do have a certain reputation. Will Derek be there?"

"You can never tell with those two." Sieglinde yawned. "I'm going to try for some sleep. How about you?"

"I'm all right. I may look around, if that's all right with you." She was determined to explore something, even if it was just the Kuroda fort.

"Go ahead. You'll have the run of most of it, and anywhere they don't want you to go, you won't be able to. Be ready to move fast, but I doubt we'll have to. If the rest of them are like M'ats, they're the leisurely sort."

After Sieglinde retired, Dierdre freshened up, reapplied her makeup, reminding herself that M'ats might be among the delegates, and set out to get her bearings. She could never be comfortable without knowing the layout of her surroundings.

There were people everywhere; the family gathering for a potential crisis. Everyone nodded politely but ignored her otherwise. That suited her, because she wasn't feeling especially sociable.

She came to a long, tatami-floored gallery, devoid of furniture except for a slightly raised dais at one end. Against one wall were ancient armors, three Japanese and one European. Against the facing wall were eight obsolete spacesuits: one Lunar, one Martian, the rest of an early asteroid prospector design. Plaques beneath the suits identified the former wearers. She recognized some of them. The frontier nature of space settlement had restored the importance of cohesive, interdependent families, largely lost in the fluid societies of Earth.

She told herself that she would contact her own family, as soon as she had time.

"Miss Jamail?" The voice broke into her reverie. She looked up to see an extremely tall, stately woman with gray eyes and long, chestnut hair. She looked about Sieglinde's age, which could mean she was anything from thirty-five to a hundred or more. Something about her bearing gave her the look of senior years.

"Yes, I'm Dierdre Jamail." The woman looked interesting, and Dierdre didn't mind her intrusion.

"Forgive me, I know we're not supposed to bother you or Linde, but I wanted to welcome you. I've greatly admired your work planetside."

"Please don't ask me to forgive you." Dierdre took the proffered hand. "I have nothing to do at the moment, and nobody to talk to."

"Then let me offer my services. I'm Anastasia."

Dierdre was taken a little aback. "Then you're the, ah—"

"Yes, I'm the titular chieftainess. We elders take the position in rotation. There has to be a chieftain in residence in Castle Kuroda at all times. After a year or two you get castle fever and pass it on to some unfortunate relative who's reached sufficient years."

For once, Dierdre had no urge whatever to make flippant remarks. "I'm honored to be here. I know that very few people outside your allied clans have ever seen the inside of this place."

Anastasia laughed. "We're not all that exclusive. And the bloodlines don't count for everything. We've expelled unworthy clansmen, and when we see talent we want we marry or adopt it into the family."

"That's one way to maintain quality. I have relatives I don't enjoy sharing the same solar system with."

"Exactly. When did you last eat?"

Dierdre thought. "Let's see, Sieglinde woke me about six hours ago, and we spent most of the time getting ready, flying to the coast and catching the shuttle up here, and—I guess it's been a while." Suddenly she realized she was ravenous.

"Come with me." Dierdre followed Anastasia, admiring the black silk pant suit the chieftainess wore. The wide trousers gave it the look of a gown, severe yet at the same time luxurious. She sighed, knowing that it took the woman's tall, elegant build to make the outfit look so good. They entered a spacious room furnished with low divans, its walls hung with what appeared to be genuine Gobelin tapestries. Even to Dierdre's inexperienced eye, it represented wealth unimaginable.

"Make yourself comfortable while I order us something from the kitchen." Anastasia filled two glasses with white wine at a sideboard, speaking a code number into an archaic voice-grille. She turned and handed Dierdre a glass, "A lot of our equipment here is old, but it all works. Cheers."