Sergei continued to look unimpressed. “All our authority is delegated from the Council, which speaks on behalf of the whole Earth. What authority do you suggest we us as a replacement? The Imperium? The Belter fanatics? Our own opinions?”
I looked him square in the eyes and recognized myself as I had been in Angyric Mumbai. “The Terrestrial Council is the closest we have ever come to benign authority and gave us centuries of peace until the Incursion, but it does not speak for the Moon, for the Spacers Guild, for the Belt, and most definitely not for the citizens of Mars. Our mission, if you will accept my guidance, is to help create such an authority. It currently does not exist and almost no one even knows they want it.”
Sergei got angrier as I spoke and finally interrupted, “No way. Do not try to be idealistic at a time we need real answers. You will have to give me better reasons than that to betray the Council.”
“Good,” I replied. “You are almost ready for the soiree. Marshall your questions and I will answer what I can. Remember that I will not tell you details that would imperil the lives of anyone else, to the extent that I can. Otherwise, probing questions and honest answers are the entire purpose of a soiree.”
Leilani kicked in, “Sergei, I promised you a party weirder than any you had ever attended, and this is shaping up to be a humdinger. Leave your inhibitions behind. You are forbidden to fight. All else is fair game.”
But she was not looking at Sergei. She was looking at me with an almost predatory glee. It was indeed going to be some party. I started making lists of my own questions. I wanted us to emerge from the evening as a team, with major doubts answered, knowing how far we could trust each other and where the boundaries lay.
Valentino began to distribute our new uniforms. I was startled at first, horrified second, unwilling third, then finally accepted what I was seeing as a masterpiece of an artist’s imagination. The standard pajamas had been died a mottled dark grey and purple, twilight colours that would blend into any shadowy background. The shirts were more like cowls, with a hood that could be flipped over our heads or tied back behind our necks. They extended loosely below our waist, held in place by a soft, rope-like belt that in fact clipped securely together. We could practice martial arts in these uniforms, and look good doing it. Lastly were masks, a transparent ceramic that changed in colour and transparency like moon shadows crossing a pond. Our faces could be hidden or revealed at will, and the masks could distort our voices to partially conceal our identity. It was medieval in its weirdness.
Best of all, for sheer ridiculous effrontery, was the logo emblazoned on the right breast. It was the red outline of a woman, howling out warning as she sat on a cylinder with the dimensions of a freighter, or a log, depending on your point of view. The lines of the lower half of her body broke into small, red teardrops that dried at the bottom into a cloud of stars. A banshee trailing fairy dust.
I could never imagine wearing this to a military awards ceremony. For this afternoon, at the soiree, it was perfect. None of the ministers, no matter how gaudy their uniforms, could match this for bizarre spookiness.
I put my banshee uniform with my armour, and joined the others in rearranging our furniture, which was easy because we had only our usual collection of chairs and a table. The table we attached to the wall opposite the door, hoping that the kitchen would be able to supply us with food and beverages before everyone arrived. Katerina had us stick two chairs to the wall above the door. It is odd: even in zero-G where no direction is up, people come through a door, align themselves by a table on the far side of the room where food is being served, and almost never look up. The chairs were thrones for Leilani and I.
The decorating committee then started to turn on the walls and ceiling. The vague, sourceless light that normally filled the room with a grey light faded and was replaced by a tangled web of branches and leaves. A broad trunk reached across what had been the floor, from the door over to the beverage table. The table itself clung to the bottom of another branch, as would anyone standing beside it. Up the wall with the door spread a huge branch with our thrones side by side. The other chairs that we had placed apparently haphazardly around the room also sat on branches facing up, down and off to the sides in whatever direction seemed appropriate. Nobody needed to sit in the chairs in zero-G, but each chair made a place where people could focus their attention while engaged in the question-and-answer sessions.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the light of a huge Moon off to the side – but no, it was not the Moon; it was the Earth, white and blue and brown. Thin clouds blew across an eldritch sky filled with stars. Small, naked sprites sported in the branches, flickering every colour as they danced.
The water splash that I had set up in the air vents was entirely appropriate, but needed to be more musical, more ethereal, to suit this place. I flitted around the room and made a few adjustments. Far below, at the base of the tree’s trunk, I could just see a small river, so I added some burbling river noise, as well as some bird and insect sounds that I found in the interface. They even had eagle calls, which seemed likely to add a nice sense of menace. I tossed them into the mix, but made them very quiet, as though the birds were far away across the forest. The room brightened a bit and I looked around to catch a sinuous shape, scarlet, golden, azure and green, twisting past the outer screen of leaves on our tree.
I checked that the new sounds still masked voices effectively, and paused to gaze at a scene out of Faerie. Katerina and Brent had outdone themselves with just the simplest of props. I would hire them any time to cater my parties. We all gathered in the middle of the room and spun slowly around to admire the effect. Then, Katerina rushed off to make some final adjustments.
A buzzer sounded beside the door. Katerina paused in her preparations and cracked the door open to find one of our marine guards waiting outside. She listened for a moment and called me over, inviting the guard to step in. He closed the door behind himself, then turned to look around.
“Awesome! I wish I was allowed to attend. The Captain’s guard will be coming to replace us soon, bringing the kitchen staff who will be catering. The Captain sends the message, ‘Three suspects have been detained and a comm channel from this room that was being recorded has been turned off.’ He said you would understand. He also asks that your designated agent should accompany me.”
I thanked him for the message and called over Chandrapati. I thanked him for his help and promised I would update him on any developments during the soiree. He looked around wistfully.
“One side of me is sorry to miss the party, and the other side knows I would be horribly uncomfortable the whole time. At least I got the pagoda and temple decorations working. You will get faint bells, drums, trumpets and muezzin in the background. I had to get something from South Asia into the set.”
I shook my head with amazement. “Chandrapati, we would have made you comfortable. You would not have been the first celibate vegetarian in space! I for one am going to miss your contribution.”
I watched him go with some trepidation. I really wanted another reliable pacifist in the discussion, but I was increasingly concerned that Chandrapati was not going to be able to serve in space. He would have to work remotely, and that would require secure communications and strong agreements on what we were trying to do.
For the moment, I was concerned with more local communications and arrangements. I did not know what my own intended role was in the soiree. When I asked, Katerina snorted and answered, “We want you to stay silent and menacing until we tell you to speak. Think you can handle that? I do the intro, Leilani will give the official welcome, Marin has been dragooned into explaining the medical and social aspects. After that, we will permit you to speak. Perhaps it would be good to tell us then what you intend to get out of the soiree, because I am pretty sure Leilani wants to use the opportunity to interrogate you relentlessly. I personally have never been invited to a spacer event of any kind, so the whole concept is fascinating. Capiche?
&nb
sp; “Oh, and you will need to choose a colour pattern for your mask. Mine will be shining yellow with green tendrils and leaves. During the intro, keep your mask dark, until I trigger the lightening and pass the floor to Leilani.”
Communications still bugged me. “We need to be careful in our use of the comm units. MI has been compromised on this ship, I am sure of it, but we should still be able to synchronize our own activities using the comm. No real secrets there. No one will be deceived by our telepathy, but it would enhance the appearance of a magical land.”
“Yes, good. Now, scoot and tell everyone to choose their mask pattern.”
I scooted, but sent a message to the team that anyone who wanted to wear the new uniforms should choose a unique colour pattern for their mask. I found my own mask, put it on and discovered a new interface in the comm unit. Flipping through the selection, I chose a red flame that flickered and coiled into brown smoke, and superimposed two expressionless black ovoids for eyes. There was a concealed vent that fed air into a pair of extendable tubes that could be fitted into my nostrils. I noticed with amusement that the air passed through filters that could remove most toxins; this was a carnival mask for agents! Similarly, the mouth could be fitted to my lips to allow me to eat or drink. No obvious protection from poisoned beverages, but I still had not read the manual that also popped into my inbox. Whoever put air filters into the mask had probably thought about food and drink as well.
I wandered over to the stack of armour that had been pushed into a corner. I really wanted to scan the air vents for incoming glue bugs, but plopping a suit beside each vent would spoil the decor. I picked up my armour, clipped the helmet onto the suit, and was surprised to see that I could control most of its functions from the outside. That had to be a security flaw, but for the moment I told it to pump up the internal air pressure to room normal plus a bit, and watched as the suit inflated like a balloon. I told it to start scanning for glue bugs and to broadcast an alert to my comm unit if it detected any of them nearby. When I clipped it next to an air vent, it immediately started to broadcast a stream of warnings about a glue bug behind the vent. I checked, retrieved the glue bug, and changed the program to trigger warnings only when new glue bugs arrived, or when any previously known bugs started moving. The inflated suits only barely passed as imitation medieval armour, but still matched the decor better than a stack of folded laundry. I passed my solution to the others who had suits and a few minutes later we had inflated suits guarding all four vents, two more flanking the door and one beside the food table.
There was another buzz from the door. The Captain’s Honour Guard of marines had arrived and were replacing our former marines, who assumed new positions outside the bulkhead door. They were accompanied by the kitchen staff who brought a second table and several carts covered with food and beverages. The four doctors assisted them in setting up the tables, sorted by recipient, since everyone had custom dietary and medical requirements. It was a little slower than the usual military mess preparations as they gazed about in astonishment.
They also carried a smaller tray off to a corner, which I noticed was filled with boxes of condoms, dildos, vibrators, and other elastic gizmos. After Katerina’s warning, I wondered whether Leilani intended that we should take time to play with them.
The marines were giving the rest of our rooms a thorough search and I heard them call that the exercise room was clean, then the washroom and finally the whole length of the hall. We were told that the area was now safe for us to use the washroom, and there was an immediate rush to get cleaned up and out of the sweaty pajamas we were still wearing from our truncated exercise session. As she left, Katerina switched the walls back to steel grey.
Another package arrived with the official dress uniforms for Sergei, Katerina, and Raul. Katerina set her official uniform aside quietly and picked up the team uniform she had helped design.
Raul hesitated for a long moment, then said, “I cannot force Sergei to be the only one of the team with a different uniform.”
Sergei looked even more uncomfortable. At last he said, “I have always felt like a clown in this uniform. Raul, let us both set these monkey suits aside and wear the new ones. They at least are fun to look at, and lend a little anonymity.”
After we finished washing, the whole team gathered together in our identical uniforms, distinguished primarily by our glowing, flickering masks. Yellow and green, Katerina asked us if we all knew our assigned tasks. Polished gold with electric blue eyes, Leilani told us all to move into position because the ministers were due to arrive any moment. It was show time. She and I floated over to our thrones and clipped in just as the marines started to usher in a stream of ministers, resplendent in their formal robes.
2357-03-04 04:00
Spacer Soiree
The Captain, his senior officers and the last of the ministers swept through the door and clustered by the beverage table, sipping bulbs of wine, nibbling light snacks, and wondering at our sparse and random decorations. I was surprised to see Molongo joining us, since I had expected him to be interrogating the MI operators. The marines withdrew and closed the door.
Abruptly the room went black, triggering a collective gasp from the ministers. A low wailing moan, a woman’s cry of horror and loss, rose in panic and volume until it was terrified screaming, then faded slowly in the darkness to hopeless sobbing. Katerina appeared in the centre of the room, her mask blinking on as the only source of light.
“Noble Lords and Ladies, We, the Sidhe of the Forest, bring warning that Evil has been Gathering in the Shadows, that Terror roams the Worlds of Mankind, and Death stalks close behind. You are Invited to join our Soiree, a Parliament of Hope. We are not without Friends, who also send Warnings and Beg for our Help. We must Seek the Narrow Path of Justice, which Alone Leads to a Future of Peace and Joy.
“Sweet Companions, you may call me Puck, and I beg leave to introduce the host and hostess of this Evening, High Lord Oberon, the Old Man of the Forest, and Lady Tatiana, the Queen of Mystery and Darkness!”
Lightening cracked across the walls, converging behind our thrones. Leilani and I flicked on our masks as Katerina went dark.
“Welcome Gentle Friends,” Leilani started. “Every spacer knows immediately what to expect in a Spacer Soiree, but tonight we have visitors from afar who will never have met this particular custom. I beg your leave to introduce the ways of space to the Earth-born.”
As she spoke, the room slowly brightened as the image of the great tree appeared, with the Earth and the sprites providing illumination.
“As most of you will know, a freighter in space carries a crew of only four people: a captain, a communicator, a navigator, and an engineer. We call these people cap, com, nav and eng for short. Eng is the lowest, and everyone starts as eng. Cap is the highest and most responsible position, normally available only to those past the fifth year of their contract.
“The crew on a freighter are all hired from the Spacers Guild, and every newly accepted spacer is automatically inducted into the Guild. It is a self-governing community with its own Council of elected members. A standard contract with the Guild runs for five years, renewable for an additional five. Few people remain in space for longer than ten years because radiation damage accumulates and can seriously shorten your life.
“Each freighter runs on a schedule that takes anywhere from a few weeks to as much as two years to complete. A year is a long time to spend stuck in a steel box, living with the same three people all day every day, so crews move between ships when they have the opportunity. Working for the Guild gives spacers the freedom to make those transfers, and gives the freight companies a reliable supply of experienced crew.
“It is critical that prospective crew members learn as much as possible about the people they will be working alongside, and that the existing crews learn about the personalities of prospective new members. Companies impose their own requirements, which must be posted in advance. It would never be acceptab
le for an inexperienced eng to be handling mining explosives, for example.
“The solution is the soiree, a combination of meet and greet, psychological assessment, deep interrogation and speed dating, wrapped up in an evening of drinking, eating, dancing and love making. Each soiree posts the ships seeking new crew and the qualifications they must possess to participate; we are past that issue in this room. The soiree is where we ask each other personal questions, push all our buttons, test our limits, and make harsh judgements without risking worse outcomes in the loneliness of space. It is also where we tell everyone what we like, display our talents, and raise the issues we would like to explore. It is deliberately exciting and provocative, an extremely emotional evening. Joking and laughter is normal, as is crying, shouting, and arguing. Kissing is acceptable, as is nudity, group fondling and public sex. Fighting and coercion in any form are forbidden. The punishment for a violation will be for the offenders to work out their aggression in the exercise room next door. On these matters, the decision of the onlookers is final!
“We will start with wine and light snacks. In a few minutes, we will begin the music and invite everyone to dance. Yes, we understand that some of you have no experience with zero-G dancing. This can be as simple as wafting around on the air currents while holding hands, or as complicated as a minuet in three dimensions. We have some true experts, including by reputation our host, who was rated as the fifth best dancer in space during the time he served as cap. Please understand that the four who nominally were better were all professional dancers, while My Lord Oberon was a working captain with responsibility for a ship.
“You will have noted the chairs attached to the walls around the room. These are the Chairs of Pain. When challenged, you must clip yourself into one of the Chairs and answer any question put to you as truthfully as you can. If you refuse to answer the question, say so, but expect abuse for your evasion. If you do not know the answer, say so. Be concise! Try to pack your answers into the fewest words possible, because there will be more questions as people try to follow up the first.
Lord Banshee- Fairy Dust Page 27