by E G Manetti
As Lilian had hoped, the protégés’ escort provides Lilian with a pleasant evening. The two protégés have an unerring ability to sift the truly interested from those titillated by her notoriety. They are also careful to steer her away from those eager to make a point of shunning her.
After a period of accepting congratulations and discussing Adelaide’s Discipline, Lilian takes a quiet moment. Sipping wine, she enjoys watching as Nickolas and Fletcher flirt with any female over the age of consent. Across the chamber, Kemeha has joined Marco and milord. The woman in green is gone, replaced by an equally lovely woman in blue who is blatantly offering herself to milord.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Mistress Lilian? Is there aught I may do for you?” The deep base voice belongs to Shimmering Horizon Captain Gehrig. He is a powerfully built man of average height and some sixty years. Gehrig’s sandy hair recedes from a high forehead beneath which are deep-set gray-green eyes. They are his most attractive feature in a face that would charitably be termed rugged.
“My thanks, Captain Gehrig, your reception is delightful. I want for naught.” As she speaks, Lilian takes a casual half step away from the man.
“May I intrude then and inquire how you come to be so skilled in the martial arts? I was unable to view your challenge to Hannah, but I know her to be well skilled.” The captain mirrors Lilian’s movement and closes the distance.
“In the usual way, Captain, a great deal of training.” Another half step of distance. Socraide seize him. Take the hint. This once, a little disdain would be welcome. “How come you to be such a skilled transport pilot that you are captain?”
“The usual way, a great deal of training.” The distance closes again.
There is naught for it, it must be rudeness. “Captain, you are too close. I pray you, step back.”
Backing away at Lilian’s request, Gehrig is both bewildered and embarrassed. “I beg pardon, Mistress Lilian. I intended no offense. I will leave you.”
“Captain, please, you offer no offense. It is forbidden.” Lilian is well aware she has embarrassed the captain and possibly wounded his feelings. It matters not. As pleasant as it is to be treated as any other passenger, she is not. He cannot stand but a handbreadth’s away without trouble resulting. “Will you but keep some distance, I was enjoying our discourse.”
Understanding replaces embarrassment followed by chagrin as Gehrig recognizes he has unwittingly violated apprentice stricture. Watching the thoughts chase across the captain’s face as clear as slate symbols, Lilian speaks quickly before the man can apologize yet again. “If you please, Captain Gehrig, I would know of your training. Have you navigated much of the Twelve Systems?”
Lilian’s interest is unfeigned. She is desperate for knowledge that will help mitigate the risk of traversing the beaconless expanse.
Openly relieved that he has not offended, Captain Gehrig readily discusses his career. The next half period passes pleasantly for both.
Lucius did not miss the little ballet between his apprentice and the transport captain. He had been wondering if he would need to intervene when Lilian managed to place the importuning man at bay. It did not alter the man’s open admiration of his apprentice or her rapt attention to his discourse. There is naught of enticement in Lilian’s behavior, but there is intensity to the discourse that Lucius dislikes. Rising from his conversation, Lucius finds Lilian’s gaze on him, indicating that she has remained aware of his movements and will, as she should. At his nod, she breaks off from the captain and joins him.
Fifteen minutes later, they enter Lucius’ suite. Turning to confront his apprentice, Lucius demands, “What had the good captain to offer that was worth half a period, Lilian?”
Eyes bright with excitement, Lilian exclaims, “Milord, Captain Gehrig has traversed the beaconless expanse. He was not the navigator, only an ensign, which might explain why he is not on the list. Nonetheless, he remembers much.”
Mollified by both the information and Lilian’s obvious dedication, Lucius reaches out to cup Lilian’s face. “You have done well.”
“Milord, there is more.” Lilian breaks into a bright smile. “The navigator still lives. She is not on the list either.”
“What say you?” Lucius is as thrilled and stunned by the discovery as Lilian.
“Truly, milord, in this instance, I believe it is the Luck of the First.” Lilian is beyond pleased at her discovery.
Pulling Lilian into a light embrace, arms loosely looped around her waist, Lucius agrees. “Luck of the First, indeed.”
With a light kiss, Lucius reluctantly releases Lilian. She requires sleep, as does he. “Go to your rest. We convene with Seigneurs Marco and Kemeha at ninth bell.”
11. The Beaconed Expanse
All planets in the Twelve Systems operate on a twenty-four-period day, the length of the period adjusted to the individual planet’s rotation. To maintain the equilibrium of their crews, most stellar transports adhere to the period length of their home worlds. Luxury passenger transports are the exception, with sophisticated environmental controls that gradually adjust the period length over the course of the transit, calibrating the leaps between beacons so that arrival times coincide with the apparent period on the stellar transport. These careful transitions allow passengers to arrive at their destination with their biorhythms synchronized with the planet’s rotation. ~ excerpt from Stellar Transit, Serengeti Archives.
Sevenday 97, Day 3
The dead man chases Lilian through darkened chambers. His moans mix with the distant howling of a hound. Heart pounding, lungs failing, she races through the maze of empty chambers . . .
Lilian springs through a door and teeters on the edge of a Crevasse. It is but a score of feet across, miles on either side. On the far side, the hound is howling defiance at the walking corpse. The moans are closer . . .
Lilian springs forward and leaps, flailing for the far edge that retreats into the distance . . . Screaming, she drops into the thirty-mile scar in the planet’s crust . . .
Upright, her eyes staring in the dark, shivering and soaked in sweat, heart pounding, Lilian gropes in panic for her thorn until time and place catch up. She is aboard the Shimmering Horizon. The Great Crevasse is systems behind her, her thorn stowed with her lingerie.
Blessing the tight quarters, Lilian’s hand finds the light control and activates it to half brightness. Locating the water vial, Lilian eases her dry mouth. There is no ambient light in the void to mark the passage of time—it could be dawn or dark of night. Her sleep vision clearing, Lilian can make out the time, close to fifth bell. Scrubbing her eyes with her hands, Lilian swings her legs over the edge of the bunk. Lacking her thorn, it had been after dark of night before she dropped off. The limited bells of sleep matter not. She will not sleep again after that evil dream.
Lilian decides against an immediate shower. She does not believe the sound will penetrate the walls and disturb milord but will not chance it. Six bells plus thirty will suffice. Wrapping herself in the coverlet from the bed, Lilian settles at the small work site to analyze the next set of challenges in the Bright Star code.
Short, loud chimes break Lilian’s concentration and send her attention to the call light for milord’s chamber. The Shimmering Horizon maintenance staff has repaired the device. Using milord’s freshening closet for access, Lilian finds milord sitting up in bed, slate in one hand while the other beckons.
Lucius watches Lilian cross the chamber and notes the stiffness in her gait. She is feeling the effects of yesterday’s combat. Several bruises have blossomed on her ribs and thighs that were not noticeable the day before. As Lilian joins him on the bed, Lucius puts aside his slate and reaches for her. Pulling Lilian close, Lucius turns her on her back. Her skin is cool. The pebbled nipples may owe as much to chill as desire. “Are you chilled?”
“Yes, milord, too long sitting still.” Without waiting for him to ask, Lilian continues, “I awoke early and determined to work on the Bright Star code. It
has a tendency to obsess me.”
Well understanding how a task or goal can generate obsession, Lucius readily accepts the explanation and sets about generating some warmth.
»◊«
Sharing milord’s quarters is proving far more enjoyable and convenient than Lilian could have imagined. Not only is there ample opportunity for milord’s pleasure, commerce readily combines with daily activities. Conducting eighth-bell status during the morning meal is not only pleasant but also efficient, freeing other bells during the day. Milord’s pleasure is readily accomplished in bells other than midday, leaving Lilian free to join Nickolas in seeking Fletcher. They discover the moon racer enjoying a flirtatious meal with the comely purser in the crew canteen.
Nickolas interrupts Fletcher’s dalliance without hesitation. “Captain Gehrig will receive us at second bell after midday. Have you reviewed the alert?”
“Reviewed it? I memorized it,” Fletcher exclaims. “Until my lovely companion joined me, I thought of naught else. All my other duties lie neglected. I can think of naught but this new discovery.” Turning to Lilian, Fletcher continues, “Mistress Lilian, I believe I owe you another boon. And, you are welcome to join our briefing with Captain Gehrig. My missive to the navigator will be slow. We will be on Fortuna at least a day before I have a response. Should Monsignor Lucius permit, you will be welcome at that meeting as well.”
Smiling at the bemused purser, Fletcher is quite willing to lure her with tidbits. “Captain Gehrig will be making a knowledge contribution to Bright Star, would you hear of it?”
Fletcher’s seductive smile and tone are all the hint Nickolas and Lilian require to abandon the flirtatious pair and acquire their own meals. They have barely found seats when Hannah hails the handsome warrior and settles in next to him. Not wishing to impede their liaison, Lilian wraps her meal and takes her leave. Finding a quiet corner in a passenger lounge, she settles in with slate and food until it is time to join Fletcher in interviewing Gehrig.
»◊«
Captain Gehrig’s recall of navigating the beaconless expanse was enthralling. It was also exhausting. Shifting each minor remembrance for clues and a potential pattern required intense concentration. As soon as the session adjourned, Lilian sought the training chambers. Finding a quiet corner, Lilian begins the Adelaide Discipline. The comfort of the movements and the security of the blade in her hand allow her to ignore the discomfort in her limbs. She had known for sevendays that she would need to endure constantly teetering on the edge of unforeseen custom violations. She has lived with such for almost two years. She had expected to feel some strain from the lack of thorn at her belt in her hand while sharing milord’s quarters. To lack it under her pillow was completely unforeseen.
With the exceptions of her protocol review and the night of incarceration at Serengeti, since her fifteenth year, it has not been far from her hand for more than a bell. Even hidden in her slate bag, its comforting length was under her fingertips. Immersed in her discipline and the peace it brings to her, Lilian is unaware of the attention she is attracting.
Hannah cannot hide her pique to see yesterday’s adversary moving with apparent ease through the complex forms of the warrior discipline. Recognizing pique and cause, Nickolas is quick to offer solace. “You lack not martial skill, Hannah. Mistress Lilian is stiff and awkward compared to her customary execution. See that wobble? Knee, I think. I saw her execute a short Adelaide this past festival day. Mistress Lilian is fit for the shrines in this. Note that she pulled out of the stretch before she reached full range. That can only be for sore ribs.”
Intent on restoring his fancy’s faith in her ability, Nickolas does not notice his sparring partner has joined them until Lucius speaks.
“Lilian executed a short Duet? When was this?” Lucius’ annoyance at the disruption Apollo introduced to his apprentice’s life has not abated. He well recalls the open confrontation after the festival Duet. What else has the mad prelate drawn her into?
“Monsignor, I am certain I mentioned that Lord Apollo joined Lilian in her festival devotions,” Nickolas reminds his mentor.
“You said naught of a Duet.” Lucius frowns.
“Did I not? I beg your pardon, Monsignor.” Nickolas quickly relates the encounter at Jonathan’s Shrine and the subsequent interlude in the alcove. “It was but a short form. Were Mistress Lilian able to maintain it for the full two periods, she would have exceeded the execution of the Duet Adelaide.”
Lucius agrees that Lilian would make an exceptional Adelaide. He also concurs with his protégé’s assessment of her injuries. Yesterday’s combat has taken its toll. “Master Nickolas is correct, Mrs. Hannah. You are an able combatant. Mistress Lilian has sustained less damage from armed men.”
With these words, Lucius goes to his apprentice. He has barely spoken her name when movement ceases and the thorn drops from her hand. Before either Lucius or Lilian can speak, Nickolas has collected the thorn from the floor and pulled its sheath from Lilian’s belt.
Sheathing the thorn, Nickolas questions, “Where?”
“My satchel is there—by the wall.” Lilian gestures with her head, her eyes on Lucius.
Stowing the thorn, Nickolas hands Lilian her satchel, dismissing her thanks with a gesture and returning to Hannah.
“Have you visited the transport dispensary?” At the formal, “No, milord,” Lucius frowns. “Go now and then return to the suite. I will join you in time.”
With the required “Yes, milord,” Lilian exits the training facility.
»◊«
Reclining on her bunk, clad in black lingerie and the duvet, her strained knee elevated as prescribed by the transport dispensary staff, Lilian works through alerts. She briefly considered donning the wrap after her shower, but the long length of silk is awkward for her position, and she did not wish to risk damaging it. Movement and a change of light herald milord’s arrival. Before Lilian can rise, milord motions her back in position and drops on the bunk by her feet, his bare chest shining with the sweat that darkens the waist of his training trousers.
“What have you?” Milord gestures at her slate.
“Nothing out of the ordinary in content, milord,” Lilian replies. “The trial on transit time for coded messages is promising. The three trial coded messages transited the data stream in two periods. The regular alerts required six. Transmission time has doubled for both types of messages since this time yesterday.”
Collecting and sending data from a vessel moving at stellar speeds is complex and relies on the beacon network. As the transport enters the range of a beacon, it first sends messages and then pulls as much from the beacon as it can before it is out of range. Then it must wait until the next beacon is in range. A fast transport updates communications every two periods. Slower transports, such as cargo freighters, often update only once a day.
That the simple coded messages are moving at thrice the pace of alerts confirms Nickolas’ original thought. The smaller, compact data streams move more readily through the network. The significant time improvements on this small trip will go a long way to justifying the expense of the Bright Star code.
Lilian arranged with Rebecca, Chrys, and Douglas to use the skill consortium’s code to test the theory. When they send her an alert, they follow with a coded message summarizing the alert. With both types of messages sent almost simultaneously, it is easy to determine the relative speed of transit.
“Thrice the speed of alerts? Excellent.” Milord’s eyes gleam. Motioning at the leg propped on a pillow, “What said the dispensary medic?”
“I am bruised, milord, and have some weakness in one knee.” Lilian shrugs. She has experienced worse. “The staff provided lotions to speed healing and reduce bruising. The medic offered some wafers that stimulate healing, but I thought it not wise. Master Medic Chin does not provide them to me.”
Over the past eighteen months, Lilian has often brought bruises, strains, and sprains to the master medic. That the master medic
has not offered a commonly available remedy indicates he believes the stimulants will trigger Lilian’s sensitivity.
“How is it you came to execute a short Duet in Adelaide’s Alcove?” Milord’s change of topic throws Lilian off-balance. Duet? Lilian has performed it often.
“Master Nickolas was very impressed,” milord adds.
At the mention of Nickolas, Lilian’s confusion clears. “It is a permitted devotional alternative, milord. The Lord Prelate makes an excellent Socraide.”
“Was rehearsal the reason he wished to see you?” There are very few limits on Lucius’ control of his apprentice; interfering in matters of faith is one of the few. He cannot simply command spiritual information. Information freely offered in conversation is another matter.
“No, milord. We required no rehearsal. Adelaide’s Prelate and I have executed the Duet many times, backward, forward, and inverted,” Lilian explains. “He is a most demanding instructor.”
Lilian knows she should have mentioned her controversial demonstration of the Inversion to milord, but she has found it a difficult topic to raise. As the sevendays passed, it became more so. Now, she dare avoid it no longer. “Milord, there is something I believe milord would know.”
Lucius carefully masks his satisfaction with an expression of mild curiosity. The slight shift in Lilian’s posture and demeanor indicate that Lilian is not comfortable with whatever it is she is about to relate. He is about to discover the mad prelate’s plans. “Voice what you will, Lilian, I am listening.”
“The Lord Prelate is in the process of introducing an alternative form of the festival Duet to the shrines. It is known as the Inversion Duet.” Lilian drops her gaze, fingers nervously playing along her conservator’s signet. “It is unconventional, although supported in the canons. It is rather difficult to describe.”