Dragon Space

by Jeffrey A. Carver

  Flaire's eyebrows went up as she tipped the decanter and poured a small glass of ruby-colored wine. "Just like that?" With a gesture, she inquired if either of them would like a glass. Jael blinked, and nodded emphatically.

  "Well, it wasn't quite that simple," Ar conceded.

  Flaire poured for Jael. "I imagine not. Are you certain you don't want any?"

  "No, thank you. One of us needs to stay clear."

  Flaire nodded and held her glass to the light, rotating it by its stem. "So. Are you going to tell me about Ed?" She smiled wryly. "I thought you might fill me in on the nature of the problem that you had?" Her gaze shifted from one to the other.

  Ar glanced at Jael and said, a trifle less confidently, "Yes . . . Ed. Well—"

  Jael cleared her throat. "Never mind, Ar. I'll explain it." She felt her voice tighten, and she took a small sip of wine, determined to tell the story without regret or self-consciousness. Ed, after all, had proved himself quite a rigger in the clutch. "Ed," Jael said finally, "is a parrot . . ."

  Ms. Flaire's eyebrows rose again, higher than before.

  * * *

  The Vela Oasis starport loomed before them like a great golden-spired city on the horizon. Starship Seneca was a raft on a fast-flowing river flanked by gently rolling green hills. They all clung to the raft as they were swept along by the current, Ed perched firmly on Jael's shoulder.

  The trip was nearly over.

  Only a few hours later, they brought the ship spiraling out of the Flux, into the starry night. Floating in interplanetary space, they put in a call for a tow. Then they had some time to rest and plan what they wanted to do after planetfall.

  Ar was in favor of getting back into space again as soon as possible. "After having a look around Vela Oasis, of course," he said, as they relaxed in his cabin. He was fiddling with a small music synth, producing an appalling series of arhythmic sounds, pulsing with strong, semiharmonic beats. Jael had come to realize that Ar's ideas about music were considerably different from her own; it was something she was going to have to learn to put up with. Oblivious to her occasional winces, Ar continued, "Once you're doing well, it's best to keep working if you can, I think. At least until you've established a good record." He added sheepishly, "I've never managed to get more than two flights in a row, myself. But with any luck, Ms. Flaire may ask us to keep rigging for her." He silenced his synth and peered at her, his eyes sparkling with hints of gold in the purple webbing of his retinas. He stroked his head-ridges with his fingertips. "Of course, you might feel differently. Maybe you don't want to."

  Jael laughed. "Is that your way of asking if I'd like to keep rigging with you? The answer is yes." As Ar's lips crinkled, her thoughts turned inward again. She wasn't really thinking of the immediate future so much as the long term. Aware of Ar's curious stare, she sighed and murmured, "I was just thinking about . . . Highwing. And wishing I could fly that way again some time." Her lips twitched with a wistful smile. Truthfully, though, it was not just Highwing but also the pallisp that had been fluttering through her mind. Nearly this entire flight has passed without her thinking of the pallisp, and even when she had thought of it, she'd only felt vague flutterings of desire. That was a comforting realization.

  "Highwing," Ar echoed. The room light angled into his face as he tilted his head, and reflected brightly from the violet filaments deep in his eyes. His mood seemed to turn pensive. "Highwing is still very real to you, isn't he?"

  "Yes, Ar, of course he is. You still don't believe—"

  "I was surprised," Ar said, interrupting, "by what Ed was able to do today. Cracking the ice like that. I was surprised that such a thing, such a change to the Flux, was possible."

  Jael sighed in exasperation. "What's that got to do with—"

  "I'm trying to say that I'm not sure anymore what is possible and what isn't," Ar said. A faraway look came into his eyes. "I'm not saying that I'm convinced, and I don't think one should go flying into dangerous places without good reason. But—" his gaze flickered back to Jael "—I appreciate your feelings. Your desires."

  "Ah."

  "Even if I don't . . . share them, exactly."

  Jael nodded, gratified to have achieved that much progress, at least. "Right. I know. Still . . ." She let the thought go, with a shrug. "Mariella hasn't hinted to you whether she wants us to stay on, has she?"

  Ar shook his head. "She seems happy with us. But no, not yet."

  And that, Jael reflected, was the bottom line. They couldn't choose their future when they didn't know what their choices were. For now, it was just a matter of waiting. Of flying into a new port, and waiting.

  But that, she thought, was the life of a rigger. The life that riggers everywhere accepted as normal . . . even if it felt anything but normal to her.

  * * *

  Mariella Flaire was little in evidence during the rest of the flight into Vela Oasis. Jael noted from the bridge, though, that there was a good deal of communications activity between Flaire's cabin on Seneca and the planetside network. Business activity, she presumed, though they knew little of the nature of Flaire's business. During the tow, she and Ar contented themselves with watching the growing ball of the approaching world, an ocher-and-green planet with thin, wispy clouds. They passed some of the time trying to devise a method for letting Ed out into the spaceship proper, so that he wouldn't be confined to the net. But once it became clear that the required holotronic circuitry wasn't on board, they postponed the effort.

  It was only as they were on final approach orbit that Flaire appeared on the bridge. "I apologize for the long silence," she announced, "but I've been tied up with some rather difficult negotiations planetside." She rubbed her fingers together uneasily. "I'd hoped to be able to continue on directly from here, with you two as my crew—if you were willing—on a series of rather tightly scheduled stops. But . . ."

  Jael's heart sank.

  " . . . I'm afraid I'm going to be held up here for a while with some bureaucratic problems. Nothing to do with you, or this ship and its cargo, but it could wreak havoc with my schedule. However." She looked up suddenly, intently. "I've been quite favorably impressed with your handling of this ship, and with your forthrightness and dependability."

  So you'll give us a good recommendation? Jael almost said aloud.

  "So with that in mind, I have a proposal for the two of you."

  "Yes?" Ar murmured.

  "I'd like to retain you to rig a four-system circuit, following my original schedule. You would be flying alone, while I stayed on Oasis. Your last stop would be back here. At that time we could discuss future arrangements, if everything in the meantime has worked out satisfactorily." She paused, looking uneasy. She seemed to feel out of place on the bridge, as though uncomfortable with the trappings of star piloting.

  Jael noticed this in a disconnected sort of way, because her own thoughts were spinning in astonishment. Had Flaire just asked them to take charge of her ship and rig with it, just the two of them, for an entire series of flights? She looked at Ar. His gaze was unperturbed, as though he had been expecting this all along, but she knew he'd expected no such thing. It was not unheard of for riggers to be put in sole charge of the ships they flew, but it was uncommon. Usually, it happened to riggers with considerably more experience.

  "You can take some time to decide," Flaire said. "I realize that this may put more of a burden of responsibility on you than you would care to take on. But it's important to me that these flights be made on schedule. I trust the two of you, and I don't have anyone on Oasis whom I would care to put in command over you."

  "Thank you," Ar murmured.

  "Do you need some time alone to discuss it?"

  Ar and Jael glanced at each other and nodded. Flaire, looking vaguely relieved, left them on the bridge.

  "She seems preoccupied by this corporate problem," Ar said.

  Jael nodded. "But what an offer!"

  "Yes." Ar's eyes rotated to look at her. "It sounds attract
ive. But two cautions come to mind. We don't know the situation; but suppose that, by the time we return to pick her up, her business turns out to have fallen on hard times."

  "We might not get paid. Is that what you're saying?"

  "Just that it's a possibility. Personally, I believe that she is an honest woman, and that it's a risk worth taking. What do you think?"

  "I think so, too. But you said two cautions."

  "Oh, yes. Well, just that . . . we have never flown together without a captain to provide backup stability, and to take ultimate responsibility for the ship, which is no small thing."

  Certainly, that was true, Jael thought. And they were not without their own weaknesses as riggers, as they had learned on this flight. But, remembering the kinds of captains they could find themselves serving under, she was inclined to take on the responsibility, if their employer found them worthy of it. "I don't think we should turn down an opportunity like this," she said finally. "It might never come again."

  Ar studied her for a moment, considering.

  "Although," she added, as an afterthought, "I guess I would want to know what we'd be carrying." She thought Flaire was honest, too, but she remembered Mogurn and his illegal cargoes.

  "Agreed. But if the cargo's satisfactory . . . ?"

  Jael smiled. "Let's give her a call, shall we? I want to fly."

  By the time they landed on Vela Oasis, they had a new contract with Flaire and a tentative flight schedule. Their ground time on Oasis would be short—just a day and a half, enough time to service the ship and to offload their cargo of commercial data grains and semiprecious crystalloids, and to reload with a manifest of local art and light-tech products. Soon they would be on their way again. That suited Jael. She was curious enough about the world before them, but more than that, she was eager to be on to her next rigging challenge.

  * * *

  The city of Carnelius on Vela Oasis was a noisy and exotic place, one that reminded Jael of the lore of the ancient Middle East on Homeworld Earth, long before Humankind had first set out for the stars. There were outdoor bazaars, jewelry merchants, and street after street of brightly bannered buildings crowded with shops and trading malls selling textiles, carpets, fine stones, holo-art and hard-art, and goods of every sort. Everyone seemed to be selling, but Jael couldn't quite figure out where all of the buyers came from. Offworlders, probably. Bargaining and bartering seemed to be the norm here.

  Jael had real spending money now, for the first time since she'd left Gaston's Landing, but she felt reluctant to spend much of it on goods and fineries. With Ar, however, she searched the holotronic supply houses for devices to enable them to project Ed into the ship. They found that and more. Entering one shop specializing in environment enhancements, they found themselves in a grove of exotic plants and sculptures, ranging from solid "smellies" to sparkling translucent "impressions" that glowed and twisted in the air. Jael was enchanted by a holographic aviary, in which breathtakingly colored birds flitted in and out of nothingness and swooped over their heads or perched and sang out their courting songs. "Ar—" she whispered, "do you think Ed might like some birds for company?" Even as she said it, she wondered if they could possibly afford something like that, anyway.

  Ar, studying one of the birds, bent to murmur something to it. The bird squawked and flew away. Ar straightened. "I don't think they're smart enough," he said. "They don't seem to be talkers."

  Probably just as well, Jael thought. Ed might feel territorial about his position aboard the ship. And the ship's owner might feel strange about having her ship overrun by holographic birds. Jael turned to leave the store, but paused when she glimpsed an unusual tree in a corner of the grove. It was small and delicately shaped, like a bonsai; its branches were dusted with gold, and its leaves shone with a pale inner glow that seemed to brighten as she approached. She gazed at it with delight. "How much?" she asked the shopkeeper.

  He was a tiny man, just like the tree. "It is a rare one, no?" he beamed. "It is a limited edition, a stondai. I sold one only slightly less beautiful last week for three hundred cassaccas. But I can see that you appreciate it for more than its outward novelty. I would only ask from you"—he made a small supplicating gesture with his fingers—"two hundred fifty. For the chippette. Have you a projector?"

  "We do," Ar said, indicating the parcel under his arm. Jael leaned close to Ar and asked how much two hundred fifty cassaccas was. He closed his eyes, calculating, and told her. She blanched. "Bargain him down," Ar suggested.

  Jael sighed. What did she know about bargaining? She was innocent of such skills. Well . . . She took a breath and said to the shopkeeper, "Yes. Well . . . I like it very much, yes. But I do think, ah . . . that it's . . . ah, a trifle too much, really. Would you consider, maybe—" she coughed delicately—"less?"

  The man studied her gravely. He seemed frozen in place. Suddenly he flashed a smile and nodded, with the barest movement of his head. "You are indeed a careful shopper," he murmured. "I suppose I could let you have it for—oh, dear—perhaps for two twenty-five. That would be—well, the best I can do, really." His face tightened as though he were reconsidering. "I . . . yes." He sighed. "I think I could let it go for two twenty-five. Yes."

  Jael gazed at the tree, agonizing. Ar's hand, inconspicuous at his side, was making a pushing-down motion. She swallowed, and her voice seemed to freeze in her throat. "I, um—" She coughed again. "Two fifteen?" she squawked, her voice cracking like Ed's.

  "Oh!" The shopkeeper's face looked pained. "Oh—my—" He didn't move for a very long time; he just stared at the tree. Then he sighed deeply. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes, we do need the business." He looked up and smiled faintly.

  Jael felt a pang. Was she being unfair? But it was still a lot of money, for a data grain. She glanced at Ar; he shrugged. "Okay," she said. Ed, I sure hope you like it.

  Jael was quiet as they left the store, the small case in her pocket. Ar finally broke the silence. "What's the matter? It's a very beautiful tree. It will look fine on the ship."

  She nodded, striding through the mall. "I got taken, didn't I?" she said at last, stopping to face him. Suddenly she felt very young, foolish, and incompetent.

  Ar's lips crinkled. "Do you like it? Was it worth it to you?"

  She laughed and didn't answer, except to herself. Oh, I hope so.

  On the way back to the ship, Ar stopped at a booth and purchased a new music synth; one that apparently made only discordant sounds. Jael stood by, trying to be encouraging, trying not to wince as he sounded a few bars for her. "I will play it only in private," Ar promised with a chuckle, putting it in his pocket.

  Before they reached the spaceport, she found her interest in buying had fully awakened, and she returned to the ship carrying two beautifully dyed blouses. Undoubtedly, she'd paid more for them than she might have if she'd bargained more skillfully, but she no longer cared.

  Later, Ar talked her into returning to the city for an evening balloon ride. They watched the sun set over the dusty plains surrounding Carnelius, and over the spaceport far out on the plain. They saw the spires and towers of the city glinting crimson and gold below them, and the street lights, many of them oil or gas lamps, coming on as twilight settled in. The balloon pilot provided a running commentary on the sights, but Jael paid little attention, her thoughts were turning to the sun and the sky. The city seemed a beautiful place to touch down in, and to spring away from, as though on a magic carpet.

  By the next afternoon, they were indeed ready to spring away. Seneca was loaded and cleared for departure, their flight plan filed and approved. They said farewell to Mariella Flaire at the spaceport and took their final orders. Soon afterward, a tow was lifting them into orbit around the planet, and then out of orbit, into deep space, away from this world of exotic beauty.

  * * *

  In the shipdays following, they rigged down a long channel in the Flux, following a heavily trafficked pathway among the several worlds of the Vela cluster. It was
one of the ironies of starfaring—that the known Flux pathways among these relatively close-together (in stellar terms) worlds, were comparatively long. Flux distances were always many orders of magnitude shorter than normal-space distances, but not always in direct proportion. And so they had a voyage some seventeen days long crossing the few light-years that spanned the Vela cluster.

  They grew steadily more proficient in their teamwork in the net, and even began to introduce Ed to some of the rudiments of their work. Jael still marveled at the parrot's actions that had brought them to Vela Oasis, but she suspected that it had been largely luck that the parrot's instincts in breaking through the ice had been the right ones for the particular situation—though she couldn't discount the possibility that Ed had actually perceived something that they'd missed. While she didn't propose to make a full-fledged rigger out of the parrot, she hoped that he could learn to sense when he should stay out of their way, and when he could be free to join in with their actions.

  During rest hours, they began assembling the holotronics to allow Ed freedom to rove the ship, or at least the commons and their quarters. They were four days into the flight when Ed first materialized in the commons, and they celebrated by toasting one another with carbonated fruit drink. Ed dipped his ghostly beak into Jael's glass and came up sputtering. Since his beak was only a holo-projection, the drink remained undisturbed; but Ed squawked happily and burbled at how wonderful and strange, terribly strange, this spaceship was. Jael's stondai tree sparkled in the corner of the commons, surrounded by a soft-focus holo-garden, and Ed promptly adopted the stondai as his favorite perch.

  After that, the parrot was awake most of the time that they were, either in the net if one of them was there, or flying about the ship. They set up the last remaining projector in one of the empty cabins, and after some experimentation succeeded in projecting part of the rainforest there, so that Ed could have a place to retreat to if he felt homesick. It wasn't quite as real to Jael and Ar as the Environment Alpha system had been, but Ed seemed to enjoy it.