The Moon of Sorrows

by P. K. Lentz

  Rising, she gave Trisma a look of contrition and planted a quick kiss on her scalp in lieu of spoken apology.

  She resumed addressing Zhi by comm. “If I am to cede authority to you, it must only be until the Sleepers are dealt with. Once they are no longer aboard, the Sagaris will be mine again.”

  “Agreed. At that time, I will have no more interest in this ship.”

  “But I will not yield control over the Sleepers.”

  “They are not yours to control. Or mine.”

  “Until they awaken, we control their fates,” Arixa said. “I won’t be denied a say in when and how we revive them. And when they are awake, they must have the choice to follow me if they wish.”

  “If you use them as an army, how will you be different from the ones who stole them from their homeworlds?”

  Again Arixa had to suppress primal fury in order to remain calm. “If I were dragged from the ashes of my home, as they were,” she said, “by false gods who slaughtered thousands of my kin, I know I would leap at the chance to fight. It’s not as if we can simply return them. Their options will be limited. I won’t force anyone to join, but I believe many will be easy to convince.”

  “They can be resettled.”

  “If that’s what they choose. Zhi, keep the aliens. I only want the chance to recruit from the humans. You may be Gorosian by descent, but I’m Earth-born and bred. I breathed its air and rode its plains. I am one of them. You are not. If anyone can claim the right to guide them, it’s me.”

  After a silence, Zhi answered, “I agree to that. Reluctantly. To show that I am willing to compromise. When there is conflict between us, there is no winner.”

  “Strange, it feels like you always win.”

  “I want to help you find a way to return to Nemoora. Just not a way that undoes our escape.”

  “I’m sure you look forward to my departure.”

  “Only because I fear you, Arixa. For what you have done and what you may do. How can I not?”

  “Does that mean you still won’t open this door?”

  “As soon as I am certain the scout has Shifted out-system. But after that... I think it best that you stay away from the bridge for a while.”

  Silently, in her mind, Arixa screamed just as she might scream if she were tearing Zhi’s head from her body—the real possibility of which was undoubtedly the reason behind Zhi’s ban.

  But outwardly, she calmed herself enough to reply. “Agreed. Arixa out.”

  She terminated the link.

  Trisma let out a heavy sigh. “Are you going to kill her?”

  “We’ll see.” Arixa stalked the length of her quarters, now her prison. “I may not know the answer to that until I’ve done it.”

  Trisma gave chase and grabbed Arixa’s arm, halting her. “They’ll survive,” she said earnestly. “And you’ll reach them. The goddess will provide.”

  “She’d better hurry.”

  “You haven’t had enough rest. While you’re locked in, you might as well get some. I could help you fall asleep if you like.”

  Arixa disengaged from Trisma in a gentle rebuff and walked on. The ironglove was still activated, and as the fingers of Arixa’s right hand twitched, tendrils of it rose and writhed and flattened like a churning sea of silver snakes.

  “A drop of Nectar, then?” Trisma proposed. “I have some.”

  “The way it made me feel last time, I’d be likely as not to kill you under its influence.”

  “Your first trip was unpleasant. That doesn’t mean they all will be.”

  “No!” Arixa snapped, even though as before, Trisma was not the cause of her rage. She only bore its consequences. She continued more evenly, “I must be ready at all times. For anything. Had I been so, and not left the bridge, my ship might still be mine.”

  “Tabiti—”

  “Will provide. I know. Still, I must be ready for her.”

  “So what now?”

  “We wait and see if that door opens before I decide it needs to be ripped down.”

  Eleven

  It was because of Ivar and those who had gone with him to trade in Nemoora that Arixa and the rest of the Dawn had dined on more than just nutrient paste during their journey to Tabiti. The food produced by the Sagaris’s new synthesizer didn’t equal the likes of the meal Vaxsuvarda had cooked for her on Earth or the palace banquets of Roxinaki. Even less did it compare to the simple camp fare, cooked over a raging flame, which was what every member of the Dawn longed for.

  Thanks to Ivar and the others left behind, passengers on the Sagaris now ate cylinders of synthetic meat and cubes of unfamiliar vegetables.

  Thanks to Ivar, the Sagaris also had voidsuits.

  In a hangar, hours after the loss of her rightful throne on the bridge, Arixa donned one of the suits and sealed its helmet over her head before boarding one of the three Panthers, the secondary combat craft which the Jir called Howlers. She was now capable of piloting one, if not all that well until she had honed her imprinted skills with practice, but right now she did not intend to launch—not that the ship’s new self-proclaimed Captain would have permitted it.

  Right now she only wanted privacy.

  From inside the Panther as well as a sealed voidsuit helmet, she commed Fizzbik. As soon as the link was established, she gave her present location and asked whether it was possible for Zhi to overhear them.

  After grumbling irritatedly in his native Gaboonian, Fizzbik declared, “Seems unlikely.”

  “She and I have reached an agreement.”

  “You mean the one where she’s the new Captain?”

  “Temporarily. Keep your replies vague, please, and I’ll do you the favor of keeping this brief. I want to go forward with what we discussed on the planet. The pattern will be Trisma. May I send her to you?”

  “You can send whatever you want, as long as it comes with a cask of Grel’s Eye.”

  “A half-cask. She’ll bring it, and you start now. If that’s acceptable, just bark.”

  Fizzbik first growled before barking his affirmative.

  “If Zhi asks questions, Trisma’s there because she has a headache.”

  “It’s true enough that you have that effect.”

  Half an hour later, Trisma was in Fizzbik’s lair undergoing whatever process was required to use her as an imprint pattern. Arixa, meanwhile, retired to the ship’s contemplation deck. In space, the partly real and partly simulated transparency of the room’s walls, floor and ceiling gave its occupants the illusion of standing in infinite void.

  Here, in the crater where the Sagaris was nestled in hiding, the view was instead that of a gray, desolate moonscape beneath a black, star-dotted sky. Looking out over it, Arixa adopted a wide-legged stance and embarked on a series of deliberate movements while drawing deep, controlled breaths. She focused on the movements, on her muscles and lungs, endeavoring to empty her mind of all else.

  She didn’t know much of tai chi, only what little Zhi had taught her of the discipline before their falling out. Her aim in practicing it now was to keep herself from wanting to eviscerate that very teacher.

  After losing her captaincy of the Sagaris, Arixa spent many of her hours in this way. If she wasn’t on the contemplation deck, she was in the cockpit of a Panther set to training mode, honing her imprinted skills with simulation.

  On the third day, she took the Panther out for a true flight. Zhi, with whom Arixa only barely communicated by comm, had seemed hesitant to allow it. Not unreasonably, she suspected Arixa of having some secret motive. It was certainly true that Arixa was keeping secrets, but about this, she was not. She only wished to improve her skills by taking a short trip around Tabit-1 and its moons before proceeding to the planet to visit the Dawn camp and deliver supplies.

  The distrust went both ways: Arixa was hardly certain that Zhi would allow her back onto the Sagaris when she returned.

  She received a warm welcome on setting down on the Tabitan plain, and not simply because of th
e few crates of synthetic meat and three casks of Grel’s Eye she brought. A few days on the ground had transformed the Dawn. Even if it was apparent from a glance this was not their steppe, and even if the time spent here couldn’t undo the tragic losses of the war band’s recent past or brighten seemingly bleak future prospects, the Dawn was happier now. Sky and wind and grass had helped to heal their minds.

  In the camp, Arixa mingled with longtime companions like Dak and newer ones like Baako as well as some Dawners she hadn’t known well on Earth but would know better now for the simple, sad reason that they had survived. She told none of Zhi’s seizure of the ship or her plans to revive and imprint the Sleepers or the growing unlikelihood of a swift return to Nemoora for their lost comrades. She drank with the Dawn, in moderation, saw their camp and listened to them recount stories of failed attempts to capture the Tabitan ‘horses’ and devise new plans for the task that seemed no more likely to succeed.

  They were disappointed that Arixa had failed to bring them a means of shooting drugs into the beasts or otherwise stunning them.

  Although forbidden to shoot arrows at the horses, they had managed to shoot and kill a bat-like creature about the size of a vulture. They had intended to eat it and got as far as roasting it lightly over a short-lived fire they managed to fuel with moss-grass and reeds. But in the end, none had had the courage to taste the meat.

  Tabit-1 seemed to have bugs in abundance, ranging from gnat-like to nearly the size of a human fist. Some of them bit, judging by the red welts on few Dawners’ limbs. According to Fizzbik, the humans’ augmentation would protect them from most serious illnesses they might otherwise contract from the native fauna.

  Dak claimed to have spotted a group of native Tabitans from a distance a day before, but no one else had, and the parties sent out to search had come back in failure. His description of the beings as bluish, hard-shelled beings with hinged abdomens was accurate, but then Dak had seen images of the Tabitans and knew their general shellfish-like appearance. Some didn’t believe him, but Arixa did, and she defended him to those who scoffed. From orbit, Zhi had confirmed this island to be devoid of large, above-ground population centers, but that didn’t mean it was entirely devoid of Tabitans.

  “Just don’t hurt them,” Arixa reiterated of the natives.

  “What if they try to hurt us first?” someone asked.

  “Stay alive, call for help, and someone from the Sagaris will evacuate you.”

  During Arixa’s stay, the Dawn visited the pebble-strewn shore that was half an hour’s walk from camp. On the way, Phoris attempted to speak to her of the Sleepers, but she declined. Imprinting devotion and obedience upon them had been his idea. Phoris didn’t yet know that she had acted upon his suggestions, if to a lesser extreme than he intended.

  Soon they would speak of it, she promised. Now was not the time.

  To an observer on the ground, the Tabitan sea surrounding their island camp didn’t appear vastly larger than Scythia’s Bleak Sea, but Arixa knew from having been told so, and from having flown high above it, that it was. Its waters were also a subtly different shade of greenish-blue, saltier, and considerably warmer. Thanks to a machine brought down from the Sagaris which could remove the salt and other invisible impurities, the camp got its fresh water from here.

  Sleek fish could be seen darting in the shallows, but the planet’s new Gorosian predators had so far been unable to catch any. They hoped that the nets Arixa had brought them—the kind used aboard ship to secure cargo—would change that.

  They had the nets with them now for a trial run. Barefoot but otherwise remaining fully dressed, Arixa waded in with most of the rest of the Dawn, each man or woman gripping the edge of a large strip of netting.

  It quickly became apparent that the most abundant variety of fish near the shore was small enough to slip through the openings in the net. The Dawn’s frustration was mitigated by the knowledge that they wouldn’t need to find a volunteer to be the first to sample the catch.

  They stayed near the shore, at no time venturing deeper than their waists. They didn’t need to be reminded of what Zhi had told them about the seas of Tabit-1: that was where monsters lived.

  Fear neither of monsters nor of their Captain’s wrath deterred the warriors, acting on Dak’s instigation, from turning Arixa into the object of their hunt. Abandoning the nets, they ambushed and dunked her in a prank that developed into nearly an hour of good-natured sport in the surf.

  While they sat drying, the subject of their missing comrades arose, as was inevitable.

  “They are out of reach, for now,”Arixa said. “But I’ll bring them here.”

  They understood that the pledge was not one she could make with certainty. They knew she might fail, maybe even expected it. But all the same, they knew such a pledge had to be made and appreciated its making. Even more, they appreciated the obvious effect the subject had on Arixa’s mood.

  It might as easily have been any of them left behind. They were glad to see how deeply it bothered her—notwithstanding whether they believed it was only because her sister was among the missing.

  As much as they needed assurance that their Captain cared, they had no desire to destroy her spirit, and so as quickly as the subject had arisen, it was dismissed. For Arixa most of all, the matter was never fully forgotten. It could only be set aside, as it had been for the duration of her visit to Tabit-1. Still, the return trek to camp from the seaside was a more reserved affair than had been the outbound journey.

  That is, until Arixa’s comm lit with a transmission from Zhi. Given how emphatic Zhi had been on the need for comm silence, Arixa knew immediately that it must be urgent. The opening chime indicated that the comm took the form of a prerecorded message.

  “A vessel has Shifted in-system making no effort at stealth. It openly designates as Red Branch III. I have not yet made contact. It may be a deception.”

  “Bowyn!” Arixa breathed, and broke into a full run toward camp. The rest of the Dawn abruptly ceased its cheerful conversation and followed suit, shouting questions.

  Rather than answering, Arixa recorded her reply for Zhi and sent it back in a burst which ideally would prove as invisible to any undetected enemy spy ships as it did to the naked eye.

  “It’s Bowyn, Zhi. Make contact! Direct us both to a meeting site on the opposite side of the planet, just to be safe.”

  Then she informed her war band as it raced over the strange plain, “We may have a ship to take us to Nemoora!”

  A few seconds brought Zhi’s reply: “The intent may be to lure us out of hiding. I will observe the ship a while longer.”

  “It has to be Bowyn, or one of his crew!” An even more joyous thought occurred. “My people might be on board, Zhi! Get that ship down here! Make contact before it leaves!”

  And before I run out of excuses not to kill you, Arixa added silently.

  More humbly, she said aloud, “I beg you. Don’t let this chance slip away.”

  Silence. Arixa kept running until the camp and her Panther came into view.

  At great length, a response came. “I communicated with the Red Branch III. Voice and visual confirm speaker as Bowyn. He identifies two passengers, Cinnea and Cernach. Your people are not aboard. He claims Tabit is the eighth system they have visited broadcasting the ship’s name in hope for an answer. I have given him landing coordinates on Tabit-1. Sending them to you, as well. This may still be a trap, Arixa. Bowyn could have been turned. I hope I have not ruined us all.”

  “I know it’s a risk, Zhi,” Arixa commed back as she raced up to her Panther. “Thank you for taking it. Arixa out.”

  From the open iris of her ship, she called out, “Dak, Baako, with me!”

  Seconds later, the Panther ascended from the plain on course for the meeting point on a faraway continent of Tabit-1.

  The goddess had provided. Now Bowyn must.

  Twelve

  The meeting site was in the middle of a vast desert. Here, half
way around Tabit-1, it was nighttime. Arixa’s Panther was first to arrive. She, Dak and Baako disembarked and stood waiting silently, in the glow of hull lights from the Panther, staring into the dark, starless sky.

  Arixa’s breath and mind raced with anticipation. Her brief association with Bowyn at Br’niss had been based solely on threats and intimidation. How would it be now? That he had been searching for her, assuming he wasn’t being coerced into doing so by the Jir, suggested good will. But did she dare count on it? The need to use his ship was too urgent to leave dependent on Bowyn’s attitude.

  He would seem to have the negotiating advantage here in possessing something that she wanted. But she possessed her own negotiating advantage in the ironglove. Perhaps the surest course was to use it the instant Bowyn came into sight, taking her future in her own hand instead of leaving it in his.

  But if force failed, she would get no other chance. Surely Bowyn would leave, and she would have squandered a gift from the gods. Leimya, Ivar, Tomiris and the rest would be lost.

  No. That was too great a risk. She would have to rely on words to sway him, on incentives other than fear.

  A green light appeared in the sky and grew larger, eventually taking the form of a spacecraft. Smooth, sleek, and somewhat resembling a flat-headed fish in Arixa’s mind, the craft settled gracefully onto the desert sands a hundred paces from where she stood.

  She held her breath. A hatch opened in its underside, a ramp extended, and two human figures emerged as shadows in the ship’s green glow. Beckoning for the two men to her left and right to follow, Arixa moved forward. The pair from the second ship did likewise.

  Within twenty steps Arixa confirmed that one of the figures was Bowyn. The other was a female with short hair of the same fiery orange shade as Eoghan, the Eraínn man she had beheaded.

  The two sides halted their advance ten paces apart.