Warp World (23 page)

“Oh, you’ll find we are quite different from the Guild, in many ways.”

“You mentioned threats, Efectuary, do you see many threats to the CWA? Aside from the Storm, of course.”

“Threats to the World, which are threats to the CWA,
” Akbas said. “
There are always threats. Houses and institutions that plot for their own gain over the needs of Citizens. Individuals who seek to place themselves above our society for their own selfish gain. Those who would abandon the Virtues of Citizenship. We must be ever-vigilant, Mer Sastor.”

“Indeed. And well put, though I’d expect nothing less from someone of your stature.” Nallin pointed the viscam at Akbas. “If I may be bold, I’m curious about your thoughts on the Eraranat raid. Since we’re discussing the needs of our World.”

“Proof that even the largest fool can be lucky. Once.” She slapped her empty glass onto a tray held by a waiting caj, nearly upending it. “Your impression of Mar Eraranat?”

Nallin paused, and Akbas monitored her reaction to the informal Mar, in place of Eraranat’s proper title of Theorist.

“Reckless,” Nallin said at last. “Of course, his raid did provide valuable stocks of vita, and any loyal Citizen must be grateful for that.”

So far, it was impossible to guess the woman’s true feelings, but Akbas suspected there was no real deception at hand. Newschatterers and visentertainers were bred to please their audiences and parrot the opinions of others.

“I met him, you know,” Nallin said. “Eraranat.”

“We saw. Yes. As for the vita recovery, however, that was more the valor of raiders than any genius on Eraranat’s part. We witnessed him at his power-grabbing worst during the raid planning sessions.”

Shifting tack, she turned toward Nallin and placed a hand on her arm. “You know, we’ve long felt that media presentation was an ill-respected craft among otherwise knowledgeable Citizens.”

“That puts you squarely in the minority,” Nallin said.

At last, the real face was appearing.

“An unfortunate state of affairs, but one I would like to rectify in some fashion,” Akbas said. “Your work brings you into contact with a great many people, Mer Sastor. A great many influential, powerful people who, I would expect, tend to speak candidly in your presence. After all, you broadcast nothing that is not pre-vetted and authorized.”

“All true.” Nallin flashed a knowing smile. “What are you suggesting, Efectuary? Please, feel free to speak candidly yourself.”

“I am suggesting that you could find the respect and compensation you deserve if interesting affairs that do not merit broadcast were brought to our attention. To
my
attention,” Akbas said.

Nallin went silent and, in that moment, Akbas knew she had reached past the professional façade.

“I understand you perfectly.” Nallin offered the faintest trace of a smile.

“Excellent! Now, let’s resume our tour.”

Shan brought Ama onto the tarmac by the recessed hangar entrance. She had never been so glad to see morning and the Storm couldn’t have chosen a better time to move on. Ground crews and flicon would be changing shifts shortly, but those who were on duty now would be bored and weary after a long night with no flights to monitor or fuel.

“Collar up, voice down,” Shan reminded Ama as they walked. “Don’t speak unless somebody speaks to you, and then it’s
Yes mar
and
No mer
. Don’t volunteer anything.”

“Yes mar.” Ama’s reply was muffled by the flight helmet.

“Mer, mer, women are
mer
, for the last time. You’re gonna get us caught, you karging Outer,” Shan said. “Men are mar, women are mer. Now slow down and stop weaving around so much. We talked about this.”

“I feel dizzy. It’s hard to see where I’m going,” Ama said.

“Look, you get caught here and it doesn’t matter if you’re Eraranat’s property, you’re still getting confiscated and grafted,” Shan said. She made no effort to hide her irritation. “Just stay calm.”

Without the air feed from the rider, Shan knew the helmet would be disorienting and suffocatingly hot—running cadets through obstacle courses with their helmets on had been her old combat instructor’s favorite drill— but they couldn’t risk exposing Ama’s face.

“We’re almost there,” Shan said as they made their way across the tarmac toward the riders. In a better outfit, this wouldn’t have been possible. Real units had real security, instead of these lazy kargers who could be distracted or bribed. She had passed Ama off as a trainee, with a convoluted story to cover her missing ID, and with laughable ease. Working with these morons it was pure luck she hadn’t been killed yet.

The Mactel AAV 15 air/ground assault craft Shan had been assigned for Stormwatch duties was the ultimate in flight technology … forty years ago. They were still reliable machines, durable and quick, which made them ideal for survey work in the dangerous and ever-shifting environment at the Storm-edge. But the Mactels in this unit had been used hard extrans, and most were only a few years away from the recycler. Cheap goods for the cheapest rental unit in Cathind.

At fifty feet long, the Mactel was dwarfed by the gunships and troop transports that Shan had been assigned to prior to Eraranat’s raid. In its own past, the Mactel would have ruled the skies on extrans raids. Now, the multiple hardpoints for weapons were empty, replaced by a single recon/sensor package that was about eight feet long and mounted on the centerline. And while functional parts of the rider had been as well maintained as budget allowed, its job description meant the aesthetics had been long-neglected. The mottled tan body and garish green stripes counteracted the otherwise sleek and angular shape. Shan never looked at the Mactel without considering that is was likely the ugliest piece of flying machinery she had laid eyes on, on any world.

She clomped up the ladder at the rider’s side, opened the hatch, and waved Ama up. “Climb in, right-hand seat, sit down and don’t touch anything.”

Ama stumbled forward. Shan sucked in a breath as the girl’s hands flailed and nearly smacked into the instrument panel before she finally slipped into the co-pilot’s seat.

“Son of a whore!” Ama cursed.

“Touch nothing,” Shan said, and backed down the ladder.

She walked around the rider, inspecting the control surfaces. One hand held the digifilm with the pre-flight sequence and the maintenance report; the other checked the inlets and elevons.

“You still got the caj?” a familiar voice asked, and she looked up to see Grenerk and his two brainless partners ambling across the tarmac in their crew uniforms.

“She’s locked up at my place,” Shan lied, deliberately keeping her eyes away from the cockpit. Crat and Ven spread out and loomed over her.

“Who’s your copie?” Grenerk jerked his thumb to the co-pilot seat.

“Trainee,” Shan said, nonchalantly, she hoped, as her stomach knotted. “Why? Hatterin promote you to Wing Lead or something? Or maybe you want me to tell WL Sempon they’re not doing their job?”

“Friendly question is all.” Grenerk
’s
eyes lingered on the cockpit a moment longer before he returned his attention to Shan. “Waited all night, Eraranat never got back to me. You didn’t just call him and get the reward for yourself, did you?”

“Any claim you had you lost when this waste of oxygen went after her.” Shan jerked a thumb at Crat.

“We found her, and I’ll make sure he knows about it.”

“You don’t even have his comm. Now get out of my way. I’m bid in for Stormwatch, we need to know if this one’s going to curl back around to the city again, and I’ve got a new recruit to break in. So, unless you got something about this rider that I need to know, you’re holding up the work.”

Grenerk stepped closer to Shan. “Treat your ground crew better if you want your riders working right.”

Ven let out a high laugh behind him, and Crat grinned at the threat. Shan stepped forward until she was close enough to smell the bits of morning meal still lodged in Grenerk’s jutting teeth.

“Anything ever falls off a rider I’m on, you better make sure I don’t survive. Because I
will
come back here and I
will
kill you, Grenerk, even if I have to crawl across the wasteland on my hands and knees.”

Grenerk glared, then grabbed his crotch and shook his genitals vigorously before he turned away. The pair followed him off and Shan relaxed slightly.

“Great,” she said as she finished the flight checks. Now she had to watch the service crews on top of everything else. “This better work,” she muttered, and climbed into the rider.

“Are they gone?” Ama asked.

“For now.”

Shan ran up the controls. The rider hummed to life around them, and she hooked up the air-feed to Ama’s helmet. Cool air flowed into the mask and the layer of fog cleared from the girl’s visor.

As she tugged on her own helmet, displays in front of her shimmered to life, a veritable forest of information, a hundred different items to monitor.

“Whoa!” Ama brushed a hand in front of her visor.

“What are you doing? Quit squirming around, somebody’ll see you.”

“There’s stuff, in my helmet,” Ama said, her voice clear now that they were both hooked into the in-ship comm system.

“That’s the tac display. It’s normal and it won’t hurt you. It’s just tech, not magic or gods or whatever your people were into. Ignore it. Now remember, don’t touch anything, just like I told you.”

“
Tac display
,” Ama repeated. “How do you remember what all these buttons and switches are for?”

“Training. Lots and lots of training. I mean, what did you do on your world?” Shan asked as she flipped switches and made entries on her digifilm.

“I was a boat captain.”

“On water?” Shan shivered. “Insane. But the point is you did work that somebody couldn’t just jump in and know how to do all at once, right? Spent some time learning it?”

“My whole life.”

“Exactly.” Shan raised a hand before Ama could speak again. “Hold on, I got to get us lift and shield clearance.”

With a tap to the side of her helmet, Shan cut Ama out of the conversation with flicon. “We’ll be making a circuit of marker posts G119 through FK47 and tracking Storm boundary. Cans light, fuel heavy, all blue,” Shan said, then tapped the side of her helmet to switch back to in-ship comm. “Okay.” She turned and showed Ama how to strap into the harness. “Hang on. This is where it gets fun.”

“Ready.”

Shan powered up the system and gently moved the levers. Inside the helmets, the sound of the roaring engines was considerably muted but the effects were quickly evident, as the rider lifted directly from the ground and accelerated forward, vibrating as it moved.

“Beginning exit, moving to jump-off,” Shan informed Flicon.

The rider taxied gracefully from the flight line, rolling out to a large circular space. Shan’s head moved continuously, studying the banks of gauges and dials.

“Fuel blue, lines good, nozzles free.” She reached down to flip more switches, grasped the yoke with one hand, then snapped open a case to reveal a green button and mashed her finger down on it.

They were crammed back into the seats as the rider hurled upward. Shan came alive, one hand on the yoke guiding them into the sky, while the other manipulated the controls. “Shield clear in three … two … one …”

They passed through the shimmering copper wall and erupted into the sky, which was fading from black to gray. Below, the sands blew and the Storm raged far in the distance. Overhead, dim stars competed with the low-grade haze that was omnipresent on the World.

Shan lined them up on their first navigational waypoint, then rammed the throttle home. They were pressed into the seats as full acceleration hammered through the rider, bringing them up to high cruise.

“Now for a little detour.” Shan tapped the side of her helmet. “Flicon, I’m making a deviation due to flux variation at Storm perimeter.”

It was a boldfaced lie, but one that flight control was used to and would overlook. Why take a rider up without a bit of joyriding?

Without warning, Shan kicked the fans over, slammed the yoke, and pulled them into a high-g barrel roll. She followed into another roll and left them inverted, floating over the landscape until gravity grabbed them.

Kicking the fans hard, she took a deep breath and pushed them over into a power dive. Pressed into her seat, Shan
’s arms, legs, and helmet grew suddenly heavy.
She watched the scanners intently, until they were out of instrument read from flicon, then brought them upright once more.

“We’re off the map now.” She popped her visor and looked over at Ama. “Still alive?”

The caj just sat there, wiggling her fingers. Then she lifted her visor and turned to Shan, face deadly serious. “Can we do that again?”

Shan laughed. “Yeah, but later. We’ve got three hours of travel, then it gets interesting.”