by Vernor Vinge
Note 1252
As the sun rose into the south, Steel was back on the parapets, scheming on just what to say to the Starfolk.
Note 1253
This was almost like earlier days, when plans went well and success was wondrous yet achievable. And yet … at the back of his mind all the hours since talking with the singleton, there had been the little claws of fear. Steel had the appearance of ruling. The Flenser Fragment gave the appearance of following. But even though it was spread across miles, the pack seemed more together than ever before. Oh, in earlier times, the Fragment often pretended equilibrium, but its internal tension always showed. Lately, it seemed self-satisfied, almost … smug. The Flenser Fragment was responsible for the Domain’s forces south of Starship Hill, and after today —after Steel had forced the responsibility upon him — the Cloaks would be with Amdijefri every day. Never mind that the motivation had come from within Steel. Never mind that the Fragment was in an obvious state of agonized exhaustion. In its full genius, the Great One could have charmed a forest wolf into thinking Flenser its queen. And do I really know what he’s saying to the packs beyond my hearing? Could my spies be feeding me lies about him?
Note 1254
Now that he had a moment away from immediate concerns, these little claws dug deeper. I need him, yes. But the margin for error is smaller now. After a moment, he grated a happy chord, accepting the risk. If necessary, he would use what he had learned with the second set of cloaks, something he had artfully concealed from Flenser Tyrathect. If necessary, the Fragment would find that death can be radio swift.
Note 1255
* * *
Note 1256
Even as he flew the velocity match, Pham was working the ultradrive. This would save them hours of fly back time, but it was a chancy game, one the ship had never been designed for. OOB bounced all around the solar system. One really lucky jump was all they needed. (And one really unlucky jump, into the planet, would kill them. A good reason why this game was not normally played.)
Note 1257
After hours of hacking the flight automation, of playing ultradrive roulette, poor Pham’s hands were faintly trembling. Whenever Tines’ World came back into view — often no more than a far point of blue light — he would glare for a second at it. Ravna could see the doubts rising within him: His memories told him he should be good with low-tech automation, yet some of the OOB primitives were almost impenetrable. Or maybe his memories of competence, of the Qeng Ho, were cheap fakes.
Note 1258
“The Blighter fleet. How long?” asked Pham.
Greenstalk was watching the nav window from the Riders’ cabin. It was the fifth time the question had been asked in the last hour, yet her voice came back calm and patient. Maybe the repeated questions even seemed a natural thing. “Range forty-nine light-years. Estimated time of arrival forty-eight hours. Seven more ships have dropped out.” Ravna could subtract: one hundred and fifty-two were still coming.
Blueshell’s voder sounded over his mate’s, “During the last two hundred seconds, they have made slightly better time than before, but I think that is local variance in Bottom conditions. Sir Pham, you are doing well, but I know my ship. We could get a little more time if you only you’d allow me control. Please—”
Note 1259
“Shut up.” Pham’s voice was sharp, but the words were almost automatic. It was a conversation — or the abortion of one — that occurred almost as often as Pham’s demand for status info on the Blighter fleet.
Note 1260
In the early weeks of their journey, she had assumed that godshatter was somehow superhuman. Instead it was parts and pieces, automation loaded in a great panic. Maybe it was working right, or maybe it had run amok and was tearing Pham apart with its errors.
The old cycle of fear and doubt was suddenly broken by soft blue light. Tines’ World! At last, a wondrously accurate jump, almost as good as the shocker of five hours before: Twenty thousand kilometers away hung a vast narrow crescent, the edge of planetary daylight. The rest was a dark blot against the stars, except where the auroral ring hung a faint green glow around the south pole. Jefri Olsndot was on the other side of the world from them, in the arctic day. They wouldn’t have radio communication until they arrived — and she hadn’t figured out how to recalibrate the ultrawave for shortrange transmission.
Note 1261
She turned back from the view. Pham still stared upward into the sky behind her. “… Pham, what good is forty-eight hours? Will we just destroy the Countermeasure?”What of Jefri and Mr. Steel’s folk?
“Maybe. But there are other possibilities. There must be.” That last softly. “I’ve been chased before. I’ve been in bigger jams before.” His eyes avoided hers.
Chapter 38
Jefri hadn’t seen the sky for more than an hour in the last two days. He and Amdi were safe enough in the great stone dome that sheltered the refugee ship, but there was no way to see outside. If it weren’t for Amdi, I couldn’t have stood it a minute. In some ways it was worse even than his first days on Hidden Island. The ones who killed Mom and Dad and Johanna were just a few kilometers away. They captured some of Mr. Steel’s guns and the last few days the explosions had gone on for hours, a booming that shook the ground beneath them and sometimes even smashed at the walls of the dome.
Note 1262
Their food was brought in to them, and when they weren’t sitting in the ship’s command cabin, the two wandered outside the ship, to the rooms with the sleeping children. Jefri had kept up with the simple maintenance procedures he remembered, but looking through the chill transp of the coldsleep coffins, he was terribly afraid. Some of them weren’t breathing very much. The inside temperature seemed too high. And he and Amdi didn’t know how to help.
Note 1263
Nothing had changed here, but now there was joy. Ravna’s long silence had ended. Amdijefri and Mr. Steel had actually talked to her in voice ! Three more hours and her ship would be here! Even the bombardment had ended, almost as if Woodcarver realized that her time was near to ending.
Note 1264
Three more hours. Left to himself, Jefri would have spent the time in a state of wall-climbing anxiety. After all, he was nine years old now, a grown-up with grown up problems. But then there was Amdi. The pack was much smarter than Jefri in some ways, but he was such a little kid — about five years old, as near as Amdijefri could figure it. Except when he was into heavy thinking, he could not stay still. After the call from Ravna, Jefri wanted to sit down for serious worrying, but Amdi began chasing himself around the pylons. He shouted back and forth in Jefri’s voice and Ravna’s, and bumped into the boy accidentally on purpose. Jefri hopped up and glared at the careening puppies. Just a little kid. And suddenly, happy and so sad all at once: Is this how Johanna saw me? And so he had responsibilities now too. Like being patient. As one of Amdi came rushing past his knees, Jefri swept down to grab the wriggling form. He raised it to shoulder level as the rest of the pack converged gleefully, pounding on him from all directions.
They fell to the dry moss and wrestled for a few seconds. “Let’s explore, let’s explore!”
“We have to be here for Ravna and Mr. Steel.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll remember when.”
“Okay.” Where was there really to go?
Note 1265
The two walked through the torchlit dimness to the clerestory that ringed the inner edge of the dome. As far as Jefri could see, they were alone. That was not unusual. Mr. Steel was very worried that Woodcarver spies might get into the ship. Even his own soldiers rarely came here.
Note 1266
Amdijefri had investigated the inside wall before. Behind the quilts, the stone felt cool and damp. There were some holes to the outside — for ventilation — but they were almost ten meters up where the wall was already curving inwards toward the apex of the dome. The stone was rough cut, not yet polished. Mr. Steel’s workers had been in a frantic hurry t
o complete the protection before Woodcarver’s army arrived. Nothing was polished, and the quilts were undecorated.
Ahead and behind him, Amdi was sniffing at the cracks and fresh mortar. The one in Jefri’s arms gave a concerted wiggle. “Ha! Up ahead. I knew that mortar was coming loose,” the pack said. Jefri let all of his friend rush forward to a nook in the wall. It didn’t look any different than before, but Amdi was scratching with five pairs of paws.
“Even if you can get it loose, what good does it do you?” Jefri had seen these blocks as they were lowered into place. They were almost fifty centimeters across, laid in alternating rows. Getting past one would just bring them to more stone.
“Heh heh, I don’t know. I’ve been saving this up till we had some time to kill… Yech. This mortar burns my lips.” More scratching, and the pack passed back a fragment as big as Jefri’s head. There really was a hole between the blocks, and it was big enough for Amdi. One of him darted into the tiny cave.
“Satisfied?” Jefri plunked himself down by the hole and tried to look in.
“Guess what!” Amdi’s shrill came from a member right by his ear. “There’s a tunnel back here, not just another layer of stone!” A member wriggled past Jefri and disappeared into the dark. Secret tunnels? That was too much like a Nyjoran fairy tale. “These are big enough for a full-grown member, Jefri. You could get through these on hands ‘n’ knees.” Two more of Amdi disappeared into the hole.
The tunnel he had discovered might be large enough for a human child, but the entrance hole was a tight fit even for the puppies. Jefri had nothing to do but stare into the darkness. The parts of Amdi that remained at the entrance talked about what he had found. “— Goes on for a long, long way. I’ve doubled back a couple of times. The top of me is about five meters up, way over your head. This is kooky. I’m getting all strung out.” Amdi sounded even sillier than his normal playfulness. Two more of him went into the hole. This was developing into serious adventure — that Jefri could have no part of.
“Don’t go too far; it might be dangerous.”
Note 1267
One of the pair that remained looked up at him. “Don’t worry. Don’t worry. The tunnel isn’t an accident. It feels like it was cut as grooves in the stones when they were laid. This is some special escape route Mister Steel made. I’m all right. I’m all right. Ha ha, hoohooo.” One more disappeared into the hole. After a moment the last remaining one ran in, but stayed near enough to the entrance so Amdi could still talk to Jefri. The pack was having a high old time, singing and screeching to itself. Jefri knew exactly what the other was up to; it was another of the games he could never play. In this posture, Amdi’s thoughts would be the weirdest rippling things. Darn. Now that he was playing within stone, it must be even neater than before, since he was totally cut off from all thoughts except from member to adjacent member.
The stupid singing went on a little longer, and then Amdi spoke in an almost reasonable tone. “Hei, this tunnel actually splits off in places. The front of me has come to a fork. One side is heading down…. Wish I had enough members to go both ways!”
“Well, you don’t!”
Note 1268
“Hei ho, I’ll take the upper tunnel today.” A few seconds of silence. “There’s a little door here! Like a member-size room door. Not locked.” Amdi relayed the sounds of stone scritching against stone. “Ha! I can see light! Up just a few more meters, it opens onto a window. Hear the wind.” He relayed wind sound and the keening of the sea birds that soared up from Hidden Island. It sounded wonderful. “Oh oh, this is stretching things, but I wanna look out…. Jefri, I can see the sun! I’m outdoors, sitting way up on the side of the dome. I can see all round to the south. Boy, it’s smoky down there.”
“What about the hillside?” Jefri asked the nearest member; its white-splotched pelt was barely visible through the entrance hole. At least Amdi was staying in touch.
Note 1269
“A little browner than last tenday. I don’t see any soldiers out there.” Relayed sound of a cannon firing. “Yipes. We’re shooting though…. It hit just on this side of the crest. There’s someone out there, just below my line of sight.” Woodcarver, come at last. Jefri shivered, angry that he couldn’t see, frightened of what might be seen. He often had nightmares about what Woodcarver must truly be, how she had done it to Mom and Dad and Johanna. Images never fully formed … yet almost memories. Mister Steel will get Woodcarver.
“Oh, oh. Old Tyrathect is coming across the castle yard this way.” Thumping sounds came from the hole as Amdi blundered back down. No point in letting Tyrathect know that there was a tunnel hidden in the wall. He’d probably just order them to stay away from it. One, two, three, four — half of Amdi popped out of the wall. The four wandered around a little dazedly. Jefri couldn’t tell if it was because of their stretched-out experience or if they were temporarily split from the other half of the pack. “Act natural. Act natural.”
Then the other four arrived, and Amdi began to settle down. He led Jefri away from the wall at a fast trot. “Let’s get the commset. We’ll pretend we’ve been trying to raise Ravna with it.” Amdi knew well that the starship couldn’t be back for another thirty minutes or so. In fact, he had been the one who verified the math for Mister Steel. Nevertheless, he chased up the ship’s steps and dragged down the radio. The two were already plugging the antenna into a signal booster when the public doors on the west side of the dome were unlatched. Silhouetted against the daylight were parts of a guard pack, and a single member of Tyrathect. The guard retired, sliding the doors shut, and the Cloak walked slowly across the moss towards them.
Note 1270
Amdi rushed over and chattered about their attempts to use the radio. It was a little forced, Jefri thought. The puppies were still confused by their trip through the walls.
The singleton looked at the powdering of mortar dust on Amdi’s pelt. “You’ve been climbing in the walls, haven’t you?”
“What?” Amdi looked himself over, noticed the dust. Usually he was more clever. “Yes,” he said shamefacedly. He brushed the powder away. “You won’t tell, will you?”
Fat chance he’ll help us, thought Jefri. Mr. Tyrathect had learned Samnorsk even better than Mr. Steel, and besides Steel was the only one who had much time to talk with them. But even before the radio cloaks, he’d been a short-tempered, bossy sort. Jefri had had baby-sitters like him. Tyrathect was nice up to a point, and then would get sarcastic or say something mean. Lately that had improved, but Jefri still didn’t like him much.
But Mr. Tyrathect didn’t say anything right away. He sat down slowly, as if his rump hurt. “… No, I won’t tell.”
Jefri exchanged a surprised glance with one of Amdi. “What is the tunnel for?” he asked timidly.
“All castles have hidden tunnels, especially in my … in the domain of Mr. Steel. You want ways to escape, ways to spy on your enemies.” The singleton shook its head. “Never mind. Is your radio properly receiving, Amdijefri?”
Note 1271
Amdi cocked a head at the comm’s display. “I think so, but there’s nothing yet to receive. See, Ravna’s ship had to decelerate and um, I could show you the arithmetic…?” But Mr. Tyrathect was obviously not interested in playing with chalk boards. “… well, depending on their luck with the ultradrive, we should have radio with them real soon.”
Note 1272
But the little window on the comm showed no incoming signal. They watched it for several minutes. Mr. Tyrathect lowered his muzzle and seemed to sleep. Every few seconds his body twitched as with a dream. Jefri wondered what the rest of him was doing.
Then the comm window was glowing green. There was a garble of sound as it tried to sort signal from background noise. “… over you in five minutes,” came Ravna’s voice. “Jefri? Are you listening?”
“Yes! We’re here.”
“Let me talk to Mr. Steel, please.”
Mr. Tyrathect stepped nearer to the comm. “H
e is not here now, Ravna.”
Note 1273
“Who is this?”
Note 1274
Tyrathect’s laugh was a giggle; he had never heard any other kind. “I?” He made the Tinish chord that sounded like “Tyrathect” to Jefri. “Or do you mean a taken name, like Steel? I don’t know the exact word. You may call me … Mr. Skinner.” Tyrathect laughed again. “For now, I can speak for Steel.”
“Jefri, are you all right?”
“Yes, yes. Listen to Mr. Skinner.” What a strange name.
Note 1275
The sounds from the comm became muffled. There was a male voice, arguing. Then Ravna was back, her voice kind of tight, like Mom when she was mad. “Jefri … what’s the volume of a ball ten centimeters across?”
Note 1276
Amdi had been fidgeting impatiently through the conversation. All through the last year he had been hearing stories of humans from Jefri, and dreaming what Ravna might really be like. Now he had a chance to show off. He jumped for the comm, and grinned at Jefri. “That’s easy, Ravna.” His voice was perfect Jefri — and completely fluent. “It’s 523.598 cubic centimeters … or do you want more digits?”
Note 1277
Muffled conversation. “…No, that’s fine. Okay, Mr. Skinner. We have pictures from our earlier pass and a general radio fix. Where exactly are you?”