Lord Banshee- Fairy Dust

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Lord Banshee- Fairy Dust Page 28

by Russell O Redman


  “It is customary to start with light, fun questions, progressing to darker, more provocative issues as the game heats up.

  “Be polite, always. Spacer society is very egalitarian, so during a soiree no one may use external titles. Everyone is known by their personal choice of name, which is often a given name but can also be a nickname or a name made up on the spot. If an honorific is needed ‘My Lord’ or ‘My Lady’ will often be appropriate. I will answer to Leilani, My Lady Leilani, or Lady Tatiana. Please introduce yourself as you wish as we start the evening.”

  Leilani shot to Marin, “Your turn.”

  Marin and the other three doctors clustered in the corner near the medical tray. Her mask was a Maori pattern in blue, red and purple, with a traditional white square and red cross on one cheek. “Welcome,” she said, “to an evening that will probably be different from most ground-based parties. To assist the evening, the wine and food we are serving has had its contents adjusted. We are using the exact same meds and stims that would be present in your normal meals, but the mix has been adjusted to favour more agreeability, lower your inhibitions and increase your sexual excitability. Many of you will be noticing the changes already. We, as the attending physicians, will not be involved in much of the festivity, but will circulate to provide support and assistance as desired.

  “Almost everyone here has secrets that must not be spoken. Guard your secrets well, because you will be tempted to reveal what should be kept private.

  “On a more medical note, many of you have been in space for less than a week. We have been feeding you a nutritious diet that will cure you of your troublesome intestinal bacteria. Similarly, your skin bacteria are being replaced, and you will likely find your body smelling better as you exercise over the next while. Coming from the Earth, both men and women are still carrying disease-causing bacteria and viruses that spacers do not have. If you stay in space, these will be eliminated from your systems in another two weeks, but will remain dangerous until then.

  “Please do not attempt to seduce, or allow yourself to be seduced by, the crew of the Mao. You will find such seductions astonishingly easy. You have body hair because the meds have not yet had a chance to remove what you grew on the Earth. You have body odours that spacers have not smelled in years. Most especially, you know events and customs and foods that they can only dream about. You will be both offensive and exotic, and therefore fascinating, no matter how you think of yourself.

  “However, your diseases are a real and serious menace. We have been isolated from the crew, partly for our security, but mostly to protect the crew of the Mao from us. As the current crisis seems far from resolution, it might be a life-threatening act of treason to spread even the most harmless-seeming disease to the crew of the Mao by a kiss or a sneeze.

  “Even amongst your fellow party goers this evening, we ask you to be very careful who and how you kiss. Safe sex is basic courtesy, and we have an abundance of toys, condoms, lubricants and barriers here for any who wish to indulge.

  “Please do not invite us to participate. In other contexts, we may be flattered, but tonight we are on duty. If you have any other questions, please do not hesitate to ask.”

  Marin passed the floor to Tran, who picked up without missing a beat.

  “Believe me, we have heard every question before, including the one about whether there are no children in space because we eat our babies. No, we do not eat babies. We have the same concerns about giving birth to mutant children as everyone on Earth since the Final War. The hard radiation we experience makes our genetic material unusable after even a five-year contract. To prevent accidents, we are surgically sterilized before we board the shuttle for our first ascent to the earth stations. It is impossible for any spacer to have children through sex. That is why there are no babies in space. We use condoms to prevent the spread of contagious diseases, and for fun, not to prevent conception amongst ourselves.

  “Do we fall in love? Yes, and after they retire many spacers marry the companions they met and fell in love with in space.

  “Since we are sterile, are spacers condemned to die childless? No! Like most people, spacers deposit their eggs and sperm in the gene repositories during our late teens. Most often, we retire from the service to places protected from cosmic rays, like the Earth or the Moon, where we can safely raise our children. The repositories ensure that only viable eggs and sperm are used for fertilization. After implantation, spacer mothers give birth normally, confident of a healthy baby.

  “Are we promiscuous? Yes, many are, and proud of it! We are a small community, only a few thousand at any given time. After five years and a hundred ships, we are half in love with most of our companions, so our inhibitions are almost nonexistent.

  “Remember that each freighter has a crew of four, who must live with each other for weeks or months. We have no diseases, no children, almost no property beyond our invested savings, and no inheritance to protect. We left those issues, and the sexual taboos they motivate, on the Earth or the Moon. Many of us will return to them, eagerly, but for a few wonderful years we are free.

  “Up here, the great enemy of every spacer is boredom. We study languages, debate philosophy and religion, compose music, write books, and have great sex in every conceivable combination.

  “That said, you will also find monogamous spacers, and celibate spacers. They are welcome on any ship, providing a refreshing change of outlook that reminds the rest of us where we came from and hope to return.

  “Are we all mutants and freaks? You will find people with very exotic biologies in space. As individuals, they are more easily accepted amongst spacers, specifically because our sexuality is so open and tolerant. Few of those people retire to the Earth, preferring to emigrate to the Moon, Mars and even the Belt.

  “Are the cosmic rays just a myth? There are families with grown children on the earth stations, and elderly people at work who would be in retirement homes on the Earth. Alas, you did not have an opportunity to meet these people, but if you are interested, I could arrange introductions to a hundred families in space. Many of the parents met in space, married and had children on the Moon or the Earth. They returned to the stations to run businesses, and in some cases their grown children join them.

  “The stations are massive structures that have not had to move anywhere since their construction. They incorporate much heavier cosmic ray shielding than any freighter can afford. The radiation environment is like living in a very weak radzone on the Earth, still too dangerous for children, but the enhanced risk of cancer can be managed with a careful diet and proper meds. Many spacers retire from the Guild to low-stress jobs on the stations, cheerfully trading five years off their expected lifespan for the privilege of living another sixty years in space.

  “These are just a few of the common questions we answer routinely. Ask whatever you like and we will do our best to answer.”

  “You are up,” Tran sent me.

  “I would like to thank Doctor Tran for his masterful examples of how to answer difficult questions that might otherwise be taken as insults. And every one of those questions is normally asked as a rhetorical insult.

  “As I am sure you are all aware, security has been a continuing problem since we arrived. Secure communications continue to be problematic. Within this room, the exercise room, the washroom, and the connecting hallway, we believe we have turned off or disabled every camera, microphone, pressure sensor or any other monitoring device. With a high degree of certainty, we believe that we can speak freely in these rooms, and that only the people physically present will hear what we say or see what we do.

  “Should it be necessary, General Molongo, Captain Wang, My Lady Tatiana, and myself, Oberon, are authorized to reopen communications. Aside from that, what we say and do will remain in the confidence of this group.

  “There are two terms you might have heard used already that are not common on the Earth, at least in the sense they are used in space: cosmopolitan and a
stropolitan.

  “Historically, citizens of the ancient Soviet Union were the first to achieve orbit. They called their spacers cosmonauts, and that usage spread across Europe as tensions eased in the twenty first century. Europe encouraged its people to learn many different languages and to appreciate their different cultures. The word ‘cosmopolitan’ in space refers specifically to a spacer in the European tradition who has mastered all the languages commonly in use and is eager to learn more of the different cultures they meet. It is one of the highest terms of praise that can be bestowed on any spacer.

  “The second country in space was the ancient United States of America, who called their spacers astronauts. The Americans had an intensely political, management-oriented culture that encouraged free speech. They are considered the philosophical forbearers of the spacer tradition of discussion and debate. The term ‘astropolitan’ describes a someone who is skilled in the arts of working with people under the peculiar conditions we encounter in space. They speak well, think quickly, and have a ready grasp of both the details and the wider issues that apply to most situations. Such people are often our most effective leaders, and typically rise rapidly through the ranks. As such, it is normally a term of high praise.

  “Be aware, however, of the darker connotation that personal advancement may be their primary motivation, rather than public service. When you recognize that someone is destined for high office in the spacer community, astropolitan is normally the word that best describes them, but use the word sparingly because people can take offence.

  “I must add one additional thought. Most Soirees are intended to guide unassigned spacers and existing crew members in selecting new crew members. We, by contrast, have a team whose members have already been selected for their skills and have as guests those Ministers who have expressed interest in the issues that led to the events of the past few days.

  “Our immediate goal must be to find ways to work together effectively, not in spite of our differences but because of them, to complement each other’s strengths and assist each other in our weaknesses. Today, we may need to fight our way through thickets of evasion, avoid the enticements of secrecy and pride, and face our own fears. We will not face these challenges alone. We can call on each other for help. Our true Mission is to find and follow what Puck has called the ‘Narrow Path of Justice that Alone leads to a Future of Peace and Joy.’

  “Now, I feel the wind rising in the arms of the Tree of Life, and a magnetic thrill that calls me to move. My Lady Tatiana, would you grace me with the honour of this first dance?”

  Followed by, “What the hell are we dancing, and are the magnetics actually on?”

  We both unclipped, I took her hand and we launched slowly and gracefully towards the centre of the room. Behind her mask I could not see her face, and Leilani was not sending me anything more than the invitation of her body. The music was a classical zero-G waltz, over two hundred years old and a standard introductory piece for beginning dancers. The air vents were blowing the air in a swirl around the room, which we could catch by extending our arms and legs. I could feel a rhythmic tug on the magnetic wands embedded in my clothes. The truth was that I had not danced at all since the start of the Incursion, and not in zero-G since I landed on Mars. I was pretty rusty, but the magnetic pattern of Vaminov’s Waltz swept me back to the innocent days of my life as a spacer. Leilani matched me and we were soon twirling slowly like two leaves in an ethereal wind. Dance in zero-G cannot be about pushing yourself around with your feet, but all dance consists of people moving in time with the music. It was still possible for a large dancer to twirl a smaller partner. It was also possible to exchange partners if you met properly in mid-air.

  We did not have too many possible partners, since Raul, Singh and the doctors were the only other spacers in our team. I sent to Raul that he should introduce himself to Minister Singh and invite her to dance. I also sent to the doctors that their assistance was urgently needed as dance instructors, right now. They could chat beside the condom counter later. Besides, only one of them should ever wait beside that counter or none of the ministers would ever come over.

  Almost everyone else had moved to the walls to watch, leaving only a few neophytes struggling in the middle of the room. Katerina was one of them, caught by surprise in the middle of the room where she had been speaking. We were sailing slowly towards her as she struggled to move out of our way. I called to her instead to point her hands above her head and her toes straight down. Leilani and I pushed ourselves apart to the limits of our interlocked fingers, then caught Katerina by her hands and her knees as we swung around in a threesome.

  We began the simple instructions taught to every class of new spacers upon their arrival at an earth station, how to catch the breeze, how to use the ever-swirling magnetic fields to spin in place, pull apart, draw together, and how to combine both the wind and the magnetics to sweep gracefully around the room. With a crowd of eager young trainees, this was good for hours of bumps, embarrassing grips, and giggles rising into hysterical laughter.

  Our room was filled with some of the most powerful, status-conscious people in the Terrestrial Government. If we wanted this to be more than a cocktail party, we had to break the ice and get everyone mixing. Fortunately, introverts did not go into Council politics, so we could use pride and logic to overcome embarrassment and political calculation.

  I mentioned to Katerina, “This is how we teach new spacers to move in the corridors of the earth stations. A few sessions of dance lessons and you will be able to swim down those corridors like fish, chatting with friends, forming processions, and only bumping into people you really want to bump into. Pass it on.”

  She cleared her mask momentarily, so I did the same. She looked at me quizzically, like she was trying to see if I was kidding her. “Really? Dance lessons on the earth stations?”

  “Yes, of course. Who did you think employed those professional dancers Tatiana mentioned? Here we have a collection of very proud ministers who will probably be forced to creep through the corridors like starfish on the walls, or to be carried like small children. I expect they would be much happier if they could waft along like professionals, surrounded by their body guards. None of them would let the security service carry them to and from their limos on the Earth.”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, that is a good point. Do I dare try to move over to them by myself yet?”

  Without saying anything, Leilani and I released her, bowed away, then moved around to join each other head to toes. We began a series of pirouettes, pinches and stars as Katerina set off slowly but steadily towards the beverage table. I noticed that she grabbed a wine, and swallowed a deep draught, before moving down the line of ministers, making small talk and passing the hint. I also noticed that Raul and Singh had joined us in the waltz, and that Valentino was offering lessons to a small circle of older ministers.

  Then Captain Wang displaced Raul, and all his officers joined the dance. I would have smacked my forehead if I had not been dancing. They were all experienced spacers, and far more practiced than I. As the first couple wafted past, one called, “Well played! We were wondering what you were going to do for her.”

  I waved back, which put me into a gentle spin as Leilani drifted away. I blew her an emoji kiss, thinking mostly that I needed more practice on almost everything. With a brief surprise, I realized that was me as Cap speaking, not the Ghost, not the Kid, not the Agent.

  As a young spacer, I had been very astropolitan, rocketing up the ranks to comm in my first three years. I had taken the position as eng on the Geronimo for the experience of deep space on the run to Tantalus, when I could have continued as comm on any local freighter. I was already being encouraged to take a management position within the Spacers Guild.

  That career track died on the Geronimo, and after I returned from Tantalus I began to work regularly with Legal Intelligence. I pushed even harder to become cap. I desperately wanted to defend the beautiful, wonderful p
eople I had come to love from the corruption that threatened to destroy them. I saw clearly that I could be more effective as an agent if I was captain on my own ship. I danced a private storm, worshipped intensely, argued precisely and passionately, mastered the merchant arts, learned the skills of personnel management, excelled in everything, and in the fourth year of my contract had become the youngest captain in a generation of spacers.

  The intellectual puzzles of intelligence work rapidly sucked me in. When I had to renew my contract, I resigned from the Spacers Guild and joined Legal Intelligence full time. They sent me to Mars as an undercover agent. Mars showed me the other side of spacer life, what could go wrong if the driving motives of life became obedience to authority instead of justice, winning at any cost instead of honest trade, and selfish advantage instead of mutual respect. I fell prey to those temptations during the Incursion. The Agent was corrupted into the Assassin, and the Assassin in time became the Ghost.

  I had thought the Cap was dead and gone, a lonely voice at the back of my head. It was wonderful to realize that he was still alive, yearning to join the dance. The Ghost whispered from the back, “Remember the Mission.” Yes, the Mission, which was the key that allowed my parts to function together today.

  Captain Wang detached from his partner, a very dashing woman who wore the insignia of a weapons commander. She did not look much younger than me, and might even have fought on the Incursion, but I suddenly felt old and knew that the Cap was dreaming. I could never be a spacer again, innocent and hopeful. I had a Mission.

  Captain Wang introduced himself, “My Lord Oberon, I am known as Hemu. Could you spare a moment?”

  “My Lord Hemu, I would be delighted.” I lowered my voice, “I am still concerned there may be hidden microphones in the walls, but if we speak softly in the middle of the room, we should have a fair degree of privacy.”

 

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