They were not long on board before Mariella Flaire arrived to join them. She invited them to take their pick of the empty cabins, of which there were several, and disappeared after saying that she was ready for departure whenever they were.
It took them very little time to settle in, and by the time Flaire reappeared, they were completing the final checkout on the bridge. Jael was in the number two rigger-station, testing the Burnhardt neural network, while Ar monitored the systems from the external control. "Does the ship meet with your approval, riggers?" Flaire asked, standing at the rear of the bridge.
"Everything seems in order, Captain," answered Ar. "Jael, are we ready?"
Jael was half in and half out of the net. "Anytime," she answered, her voice coming out in a dreamy drawl. She withdrew from the net and lifted her head to peer at Flaire. "Do you have any special . . . requests . . . about the route?" she asked, remembering Mogurn and the mountains.
Flaire raised her eyebrows. "Just get me there safely. Do you have all the information you need?"
Ar responded from the forward end of the bridge. "We have everything provided by the library, Ma'am. And I myself have passed along this stretch more than once. I anticipate no problems."
Flaire nodded. "Make ready for the tow, then." She stepped to the com and called the spaceport dispatcher.
* * *
Hours later, when the tow released them to the darkness of space, Jael and Ar were waiting, poised to take the ship down into the currents of the Flux, visible from within the net as a soft layer of clouds beneath them. They grinned at each other across the winking traceries of the net, and when Flaire gave the okay, they reached out together and seized the cottony stuff of the Flux and drew the ship down into it.
The wispy clouds caressed them as the ship sank, and then the Flux turned clear as a glassy sea. Jael and Ar became swimmers, stroking side by side through the water, dipping their arms in rhythm. After a time Ar dropped back a little, bringing up the rear with a smooth backstroke, while Jael took the lead. They had to cross a few shifting currents before they found one coursing in the desired direction, but from that point on, they made smooth and steady headway toward the distant shore of Vela Oasis.
Time passed quickly in the net, as did the leagues, miles, and kilometers of the Flux—all of those units of measure being equally irrelevant to the light-years of normal-space. They made good progress in their first hours, and in the sessions that followed, and they found that they were indeed well suited to working together. Ar had a deft touch in the net, and a good sense of stability, while Jael excelled in glimpsing changes in the stream and crafting new images to help them move smoothly through the changes. Jael adjusted quickly to sharing the net. If she occasionally missed her solitude, she felt more than compensated by the joys of mutual aid and challenge, of trading and sharing images with another.
The sea became a dancing stream, and they, fish darting in it. Later, the stream of water became a jet of golden oil coursing through a clear-walled pipeline, and they, a pair of bubbles joined at the waist to a larger billowing bubble sailing down the stream of oil. Take care that we don't burst! Ar laughed, as they quivered and stretched in the stream. And she answered, poking and testing at the limits of her bubble, If we do, we'll just make ourselves over! There was no real danger as long as the flow remained stable; the only thing they really had to watch for was a divergence or turbulence in the stream, which could indicate dangerous conditions developing along their course. So far, the way was smooth.
Out of the net, in the ship's commons, they talked of the route ahead and of the future. Jael felt a curious contentment in working with Ar, a kind of happiness she'd not felt in a long time. She was amazed to discover that they were growing steadily closer in friendship, and she wondered, had her life before this been so lonely that it could shock her to sense a true friendship developing? Did she dare trust what was happening? It was a disorienting prospect, growing close to this Clendornan; yet it was easier in a way than it might have been if he'd been human, and therefore more threatening.
Still, for all that they were comfortable together, she felt an awkwardness in discussing certain subjects with him . . . such as Highwing. She suspected that Ar simply did not like the thought of dragons. Several times he skillfully deflected their conversation away from the subject, or simply drifted off into a reverie, humming Clendornan chants. It was clear that he did not believe in the reality of her experience, though he soberly respected the effect that her perceived experience could have on her life. Eventually she gave up trying, and as the trip went on, her memory of the dragon realm blurred a little more around the edges, seeming ever less real, even to her. Alone in her cabin, she thought often of Highwing, but her memories had an increasingly dreamlike quality.
One worry she didn't have, and for which she was grateful, was whether her friendship with Ar would turn into something sexual, real or potential. While there was, physically speaking, nothing to prevent intimacy between a human woman and a Clendornan male, the urges didn't seem to arise, at least not as they did between the human sexes. Perhaps the reasons were biochemical, perhaps something else. It was a concern that she was frankly relieved to be free of; she was far from ready for that sort of thing, even with a human male, had there been a suitable candidate around. She was content to spend long hours close to Ar, knowing that the bond growing between them was of the mind and the spirit, rather than of the body.
It wasn't until they were well into the flight that she seriously entertained the idea of releasing Ed from his cybernetic containment. Since she was a little uncertain how Ed would work out in the net, she'd held off until she and Ar had worked out their own rhythm of flying together, smoothing out minor differences in style, and until they had earned Flaire's confidence in their rigging. But by the fourth shipday of the journey, she felt ready to try.
It's okay with me, Ar said. But will he know what to make of this landscape? They had taken the form of great-winged birds, soaring over a softly rolling plain marked with patches of scrub.
Why don't you change it to something he might like, while I step outside and hook him in.
Ar agreed, and she left him flying while she withdrew from the net. She paused a moment, relaxing with deep breathing. They were already accustomed to working in overlapping shifts—sometimes rigging together, sometimes not—so there was no need to hurry. Once she felt back in her own body, she climbed out of the rigger-station and went to her cabin. She retrieved the data interface device containing Ed and brought it back to the bridge. Reclining on her couch, she peered overhead for an input socket to the rigger-net computer. After examining the clear plastic connector on her storage device, she plugged it in, then tested the connection. But she hesitated before returning to the net. She was eager to see Ed, yes . . . but a little nervous, as well. What if something had gone wrong in the capture process? Or what if it went wrong here? She wondered if she could accidentally terminate Ed by hooking him up incorrectly.
Quit worrying, she thought. The ship could spring a leak, too, but you're not worried about that, are you?
She closed her eyes and sank back into an awareness of the Flux. The landscape was changed, startlingly so. The scrub and the plains were gone. The currents of the Flux were flowing by in great literal streams, colored in gorgeous sunset hues of oranges and reds and golds. The ship itself was a small oasis floating in a sea of color: a tree anchored on an uprooted, flat-topped clump of earth, just large enough for the riggers to walk around on. Tree and ground, the entire oasis was gliding majestically through space. Ar was sitting cross-legged under the tree, seemingly lost in meditation. Both hands were pressed to the ridges high on the sides of his head; his luminous eyes were fixed straight ahead. He was humming soft, strange syllables, through pursed lips. He was humming several pitches simultaneously, with a result that could not be called harmonic.
Jael stepped carefully around the tree. Let me know when I can talk, she said softly
.
Ar nodded almost imperceptibly; he was steering the ship from within his meditation. Jael sat beside him and enjoyed the view. After a time, the humming stopped, and she sensed him emerging from his solitude. He turned his head and smiled in crinkling fashion. We're stabilized. Do you have him ready?
I think so. Jael gestured at their surroundings. What's all this?
Do you like it? I thought we'd give him a tree, for starters, and keep everything else spare. We'll fill in as we need to.
Jael nodded. Shall we let him out now? She tried to keep the worry out of her voice and failed.
Ar tipped his head slightly. Are you having second thoughts?
Just afraid it won't work, that's all.
The Clendornan's eyes widened, luminous and expectant. He nodded slowly.
Jael worried her lips together. Well, here goes then. She closed her eyes and reached back into the system, nudging the controls with her thoughts. Opening her eyes, she extended a hand and gestured upward into the tree.
There was a shimmer in the lowest branch, and a flicker of emerald green, then a squawk—but no parrot. Ed? she called.
Yawk! said the branch.
I can't see you. Do you see us?
The branch rustled, and the parrot's head appeared, disembodied. Jayl? Jayl! Brawwww! it shrieked, turning to and fro, trying to locate her. Jael started to call out again, when the parrot-head finally tilted down and spied her. Yawk! Jayl! The head hopped forward, and as it did so, the rest of the body emerged, apparently from thin air. Ed stretched his wings and tail-feathers wide. Trilling in wonder, he peered around. DID IT! Yawk! You did it! Did you do it?
Jael grinned up at him. Looks like I did, Ed. I wasn't sure until now. She beamed at Ar. Thanks, Ar.
Yow! Where—b-b-rawk—where are we?
How do I explain that to a parrot? she wondered.
She didn't have to. Ar replied, We're about halfway between where we were when we met you, and where we're going to be. When that elicited only a puzzled craning of the neck from the bird, he added, You're a rigger now, Ed. We're between the stars, but what you're seeing is something that only we riggers see.
Ed made a creaking noise deep in his throat and hopped down from the branch with a flutter of scarlet on green. He paced up and down the strip of ground between Jael and Ar, and looked from one to the other. Rigger? he crowed. Rigger?
That's right, Ed. Be prepared to see a lot of things you would never have imagined, Ar said.
Rigger! Braaw-w-k! No kidding!
No kidding, said Jael.
The parrot cocked his head and peered up at her with a glistening dark eye. He made a swallowing movement, seemingly speechless. He peered at Ar. He hopped forward to the edge of the flying wafer of earth they were riding on, and peered over the edge, at the streaming currents of space. With a shiver, he stepped back. He flapped his wings and hopped up onto Jael's knee. Long way down, he said, clacking his beak.
Long way, Jael agreed.
Ar, crinkling a smile, extended a hand toward their direction of flight. He closed his eyes and did something. The earth, the tree, and the riggers came gently to a new heading and picked up speed.
Chapter 21
Parrot Rigger
MARIELLA FLAIRE joined them in the commons that evening. They had seen little of her since the trip had begun; she seemed to have had her own work to do, which kept her in her cabin much of the time. But now she wanted to know how her riggers were faring in the journey.
Ar and Jael glanced at each other over their dinner plates. Jael wondered, should she tell the captain that they had loosed a parrot in the rigger-net? There was nothing unusual about riggers bringing helpful data-additions into the net, but most riggers didn't bring in live additions. Flaire seemed to sense their unspoken communication. "You both look pretty happy with yourselves," she observed. "Does that mean it's going well?"
Ar and Jael nodded together. "Progress is fine. We're right on schedule," Ar said, sparing Jael the need to decide how to answer.
"That's encouraging. So you haven't had any problems? You will let me know if you do?" Flaire looked from one to the other, with a bemused smile. "Is it my imagination, or are you both being awfully quiet?"
Jael stirred self-consciously. It was a good-humored query, and yet she found the unwelcome memory of Mogurn and his suspicions crowding into her thoughts. For an instant, her head was filled with her past warring with her present. Ar, however, was already answering Flaire's question. "I think we're both remembering some of the imagery from the net," he said. "Sometimes it stays with us afterwards. Ordinarily we don't discuss it on the outside. But we can, if you wish—"
Flaire raised a hand to stop him. "Not necessary. I don't believe in interfering with the work of my crew, beyond expecting an honest accounting of progress, or of problems, if you're having any." Her gaze shifted to Jael. "And you're not having any. Is that correct?"
Jael nodded emphatically, forcing a smile onto her face. "Yes," she said, clearing her throat. "We're working together quite well. And the route so far has been smoother than we could have hoped for."
"Good. Then I'll leave you to it." Flaire rose from the table, disposed of her own dishes and, wishing them a good evening, retired to her cabin.
Jael sighed, glancing at Ar. He grinned, in his crinkle-faced way, and after a time, she felt her tension melt away like snow on a sunny day.
* * *
The next morning, back in the net, they woke Ed from the storage device to join them in flight. Jael instructed him to stay clear of their manipulations of the Flux, but the warning seemed unnecessary. Ed appeared content to perch and watch, perhaps rustling around from time to time, but generally staying out of the way.
At least, that was how the day started.
The first difficulty came when Jael tried to bring a piece of Ed's rainforest into the net. They were only a few shipdays shy of Vela Oasis, and their path was laid out before them in a glorious spangle of celestial highways and galactic whirlpools, a romantic's vision of the universe, a grand vista of exploding light that took Jael's breath away. They moved through the vision in a stately waltz, their ship a small garden in a bubble gliding upward along a luminous milky path. Their movement, and the image of the garden, seemed stable enough to risk letting a few elements of Ed's original environment into the net.
Try just a little at a time, and we'll smooth out the wrinkles while we fly, Ar suggested, taking up a position in front.
Rrrick-k-k! Yes!
Jael quickly discovered, however, that there was no simple way to introduce the rainforest gradually. Ed himself was a special case; he had been partitioned by the storage device as the "primary matrix." But bringing in something like a single tree was not so simple. The ambient environment was stored ingeniously and compactly, but not conveniently for limited retrieval. As she probed the storage medium, she felt like a child groping blindly in a magician's bag, wondering what her fingers were touching. After a minute, she decided she might as well create the image and put it to use. A black satin bag materialized in front of her.
Yawk! Good, good, Ed chortled, hopping down to a low, surrealistic-looking bush so that he could peer at whatever was coming out.
Stay back, now, Jael warned. She glanced around. Ar was seated on a large rock, steering their course by shirting his body weight from side to side. He was humming, as usual, a raspy, vaguely dissonant tune. A flurry of sparkling things flew by, carried on the gentle breeze made by their headway. The objects were probably Flux analogs of accreting heavenly bodies in formation—planets or asteroids, perhaps. Seneca was bypassing a region of space that was heavy with star and planetary formation. Flux abscess—a dangerous distortion of the continuum—could occasionally be a concern in such regions, but all the indications looked safe. Okay? she called.
Yes, we're in the clear, Ar said, barely interrupting his humming. See that cluster up ahead? He pointed to a distant patch of light at the end of a long, twi
sty pathway. That's Vela Oasis. We're already homing in.
Jael nodded. She reached into the magician's bag. Ed clucked and craned his neck, bobbing his head like a pigeon, trying to see. Here goes, she murmured, feeling something on her fingertips. She drew it forth; with a glint of light, something unfolded into three-dimensionality—then seemed to vanish. An instant later, there was a great fluttering around her head, and she ducked down, startled. The air overhead was filled with leaves, all suspended in midair, and clustered in the shape of a tree. Good grief, she muttered, as Ed squawked in delight and puzzlement. Where was the rest of the tree—the branches and trunk? She probed in the big again. Something large and cold unfolded into the net.
Hrrawwk! Ed cried.
Jael scowled. It was a damp stone face, with four sticky lizard's feet, without the lizard, walking up its side. This was not helping. She felt a breeze on her face and glanced up just in time to see the suspended leaves blow away on the wind.
Tree gone, Ed announced.
So I noticed, she sighed. Now what? She reached into the bag once more and drew out a long tree branch. There was a small cluster of leaves at its tip, and a pair of bright red lionflies stretching their wings.
Ed leaped from his perch and dived toward the insects. Hawwwwwk! Eat!
Ed, wait! Her cry came too late. The parrot shot past the lionflies as they fluttered up into the air, over her head. Ed! The parrot banked and circled, pursuing the two bright morsels. They dodged nimbly through the air, fleeing higher and higher, and Ed pursued energetically, seemingly undaunted by the panoply of galaxies reigning overhead.
Jael watched anxiously. How far could they range out of the center of the net without upsetting Ar's stable flight? Ed, come back! she pleaded.
Ar stopped humming and turned his head. Is anything wrong? We're coming up on a divide, and we'll need to keep it steady.
Dragon Space Page 21