Queen

by Timothy Zahn

  But did Nicole herself understand?

  Kahkitah had a good point. The Shipmasters had caused all sorts of misery and death and destruction. Could she really in good conscience cooperate with them?

  Even more importantly, would the Fyrantha understand? Would it approve?

  She frowned suddenly. No. It didn’t matter if the Fyrantha didn’t approve. It didn’t really even matter if the Ghorfs approved.

  She was the Fyrantha’s Protector. All that mattered was whether she approved.

  And she didn’t. Suddenly, she realized that down deep she didn’t.

  “All right, then,” she said. “We’ll do it ourselves.”

  Kahkitah turned his head, his bird whistle taking on a surprised tone. “You really don’t need to decide so quickly, Nicole,” he said.

  “Too bad, because I have,” Nicole said.

  “You have a plan?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “First, I need to grab Jeff and Iosif and go see what the Shipmasters want to talk about.”

  “Shall I come along?”

  “No, I think the three of us and my Wisps can handle it,” she said. “Besides, I want you to talk to the other Ghorfs. I need to see if a crazy idea I’ve just come up with is even possible.”

  “It will be,” Kahkitah promised. “For the Protector, we’ll make it possible.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Nicole warned. “Okay. Here’s what I’m thinking…”

  * * *

  Ushkai was waiting when Nicole, Jeff, Iosif, and their three-Wisp escort arrived in the animal treatment room.

  But this time he wasn’t alone. A tall, heavyset creature stood beside him, towering over him by probably eight inches, with long, braided hair and a face that reminded Nicole of a koala she’d seen once on TV. Its arms were ape-long, and its legs were like horse’s legs, complete with hooves and horseshoes that flickered with colored lights. It wore a triangle-shaped piece of dark red cloth that started at its shoulders and angled down to a spot between the knees, with an edge that flickered like the horseshoes. “I am the Oracle,” it announced as they came closer.

  Or rather, she announced. The voice coming from that v-shaped mouth was high and female and surprisingly gentle.

  “I am Nicole,” Nicole called back. “The Protector. Do you speak for the Shipmasters, Oracle?”

  “Welcome, Protector,” the creature said. “You may address me as R’taas, just as you may address the Caretaker as Ushkai. I speak for the Shipmasters when it serves the purposes of the Fyrantha. But I prefer to speak to the sisterhood of the Sibyls.”

  “You’re the one telling them how to fix the ship?” Jeff asked.

  “I am,” R’taas said.

  “And killing them?” Jeff added pointedly.

  The big alien seemed to slump. “That was never our intent. We did not so design this vessel. But circumstances were changed, and the ship altered—”

  “Wait a second,” Nicole cut in. “You designed the Fyrantha?”

  “We designed Leviathan,” R’taas corrected. “We designed it, and in conjunction with the humans of Earth we flew it to the stars.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Jeff said. “Why humans? Why us? We must have been pretty damn primitive when you found us.”

  “Primitiveness is a state of knowledge,” Ushkai spoke up. “Knowledge may be added and instilled and nurtured.”

  “Not so spirit and inward talent,” R’taas said. “You had both. You still do.”

  “This is all really fascinating,” Iosif put in. “But we have a war to fight. You got something useful to say, or did you just call us up here to say hi and shoot the breeze?”

  “The Core,” Ushkai said solemnly.

  “The Core,” R’taas agreed.

  “I hope that’s not what they consider useful,” Iosif muttered.

  “Yes, tell us about the Core,” Nicole said. If this was the part of the Fyrantha that spoke to the Sibyls, then this could be about fixing something important. “Where is it, and what do we need to do about it?”

  “It centers the four quadrants,” R’taas said. “It nests at the crossness of the heat ducts.”

  “Very poetic,” Iosif said sarcastically. “You—Caretaker—you want to put it in plain English?”

  “I don’t speak English,” Ushkai said. “But the Oracle is correct. The Core rests at the intersection of the four quadrants on level 51.”

  “How big is it?” Jeff asked.

  “Each section fills a space four pess by two pess,” R’taas said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jeff muttered. “English, Caretaker?”

  “Approximately the size of two of the animal treatment cages behind you,” Ushkai said. “They’re densely packed, but there are narrow access corridors through the lines of consoles.”

  “The Core needs to be repaired,” R’taas said. “Until then, I—we—I—will be fragmented.”

  “If it’s that important, why isn’t it already fixed?” Iosif demanded. “It’s not like we haven’t been aboard for the last jillion years.”

  “It has been fixed, hasn’t it?” Nicole asked as she suddenly understood. “All except the part in Q1.” She turned to Jeff and Iosif. “Don’t you see? The Shipmasters have kept everyone out of that quadrant, probably ever since they started kidnapping people.”

  “Paranoid that we’ll rise up against them,” Jeff said, nodding.

  “Pretty good assumption, if you ask me,” Iosif said. “So how do we get into the Q1 part?”

  “There’s a horizontal air duct between level 51 and level 52,” Ushkai said. “Perhaps you can move through it to the entrance, then move in quickly before the guards can block you.”

  “Guards?” Nicole asked. “You mean Q1 Wisps?”

  “Yes.”

  Jeff looked at Nicole. “Well, you were talking earlier about having your Wisps convert a bunch of their fellows. Sounds like this would be a good time to give that a try.”

  “That’ll take too long,” Nicole said. “No, I’ve got a better idea.” She turned back to R’taas. “Are you in contact with the Shipmasters?”

  “I am.”

  “Send them this message,” Nicole ordered. “This is the Protector. I have a way to free you from Koffren domination. But to do so, you need to release all the Wisps to my control. And I mean all of them, including the ones in Q1.”

  “What if they refuse?” R’taas asked.

  “Then I’ll just have to take over the ship without them,” Nicole said, trying to project a confidence she absolutely didn’t feel. Her plan was only half-formed, and relied completely on whether or not the Ghorfs could pull off the engineering feat she’d set for them. “Of course, if I don’t get their help now, they won’t get my help after it’s all over. Fair is fair.”

  For a moment R’taas and Ushkai stood silently. Neither looked at the other, but Nicole had the eerie feeling that they were communicating. “The message is sent,” R’taas said at last. “How do they acknowledge?”

  “When the Q1 Wisps come under my control, I’ll know it,” Nicole said.

  “You will?” Jeff asked, frowning.

  “I think so,” Nicole said. “If not, giving one of them an order should do it.”

  “Which requires you to be in Q1 at the time.”

  “He’s got a point,” Iosif said. “My question is, how are the Shipmasters going to hand them over with the Koffren sitting on top of them?”

  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Nicole told him. “The Koffren may be watching them, but I doubt they really understand everything that’s going on. Should be easy enough to slip in a quiet order in the right place. Anyway, that’s their problem. If they want my help kicking the Koffren out of their lives, they’ll figure it out.” She turned back to the two holograms. “Next question: How many Koffren are aboard?”

  Another silent consultation. “Thirty-eight,” Ushkai said.

  Jeff swore under his breath. “Thirty-eight? Trake sa
id there were only twenty.”

  “Yeah, well, he would, wouldn’t he?” Nicole said grimly. Still trying to build favor with the Koffren or at least prove himself useful, Trake would certainly downplay their numbers. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m sure,” Ushkai said.

  “I’m sure,” R’taas repeated.

  Jeff looked at Nicole. “So. Do you still have a plan?”

  “Don’t be snide,” Nicole reproved him. “Yes, I still have a plan. Okay, just one more question. How can I get a message to the Koffren?”

  “We could send a Wisp with a note,” Iosif suggested.

  “You think these work with reading material?” Jeff asked pointedly, touching the side of his head where the hair covered his implanted translator.

  Iosif reddened. “Right. Damn. I’m so used to this crazy setup I sometimes forget. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Nicole said. “What about the recorder that—what’s his name? Ezana—that Ezana built? I know the one you used to fake your voices with the drone diversion got smashed, but does he have another one we could use?”

  “No, that was it,” Iosif said. “And it took him two years to figure out how to make that one.”

  “Only one answer, then,” Jeff said. “Oracle, where’s the nearest Koffren?”

  “Scrinthu section, level 51,” R’taas said.

  “Don’t think I know scrinthu,” Jeff said, looking at Nicole. “Which one is that?”

  “It’s the farthest aft part of Q1,” Nicole said, wincing a little. “Right in front of the crosswise heat-exchange duct.”

  “Ah,” Jeff said, nodding as he got it, too. “And level 51. In other words, he’s helping the Wisps guard the Q1 section of the Core.”

  “Sounds like it,” Nicole said. “Oracle, where’s the next nearest Koffren?”

  “No, no, this is fine,” Jeff assured her. “Might as well walk into a stronghold section where they feel all safe and confident. Less likely to spook someone into thinking I’m the lead unit of an attack.”

  “Is that how they teach you to do things in the Marines?” Iosif asked.

  “Mostly they taught us to improvise,” Jeff said. “Nicole, if you can lend me one of your Wisps for transport, I’ll head on over. What’s the message?”

  “Hold it,” Iosif objected. “I’m not done yet. Who says you’re the one going?”

  “Who says I’m not?” Jeff countered. “Face it—it has to be one of Nicole’s closest allies for the Koffren to take him seriously.”

  “Who says I’m not a close ally?” Iosif shot back. “And who says that they won’t see that close ally as a potential hostage?”

  “Better they take me hostage than they figure it’s someone Nicole doesn’t care about and flat-out kill him.”

  “Enough,” Nicole cut in harshly. The minute she’d seen where this was going she’d known Jeff would volunteer and suspected Iosif would do likewise.

  Unfortunately, just because Jeff was the best choice didn’t make the decision any easier.

  “Jeff’s right, Iosif,” she said. “Okay, here’s the message. Tell them I’ll fix the teleport for them if they’ll all come to the Q1 arena and let me talk to them.”

  “The Q1 arena?” Jeff asked carefully.

  “The Q1 arena,” Nicole confirmed.

  Jeff looked sideways at Iosif. “You realize that the Sibyls—”

  “Yes, that they’re all stashed away in there,” Nicole said. “But it’s the only arena that has the landscaping I need.”

  “Okay,” Jeff said, his tone only slightly less concerned. “If you’re sure. I only ask because your memory hasn’t always been the best lately.”

  Nicole’s first impulse was to deny it. Her second was to wonder if maybe he was right.

  The inhalers the Sibyls used to hear the Fyrantha’s telepathic work instructions contained a slow poison that ate away at the user’s life span. Who was to say it didn’t also have other, equally horrendous effects? Effects on health, perception, reflexes?

  Memory?

  “My memory’s doing just fine, thank you,” she said tartly. “Tell them I want all of them there because I have a proposition to pitch and I want to make sure it gets to whoever’s in charge. I mean, really in charge.”

  “Play them off against each other,” Jeff said, nodding. “Got it. Anything else?”

  “They need to bring the Shipmasters with them,” Nicole said. “Again, all of them. What I have to say is about everyone, and they all need to hear it.”

  “That’s going to be quite a crowd,” Iosif warned. “You sure you don’t want to do something more of the hit-and-run attrition variety?”

  “Nope,” Nicole said. “Time’s getting short. We might as well have it out all at once.” She looked at Jeff. “Can you remember that long enough to spit it out to the Koffren?”

  “I think so,” Jeff said, still eyeing her closely. “When do you want this grand assemblage to take place?”

  “Let’s make it this time tomorrow,” she said. If the Ghorfs could pull off her plan at all, that should give them enough time. “The Shipmasters can get them in. Tell them I’ll meet them where the river meets the ocean.”

  “Tomorrow; Q1 arena; oceanside; everybody,” Jeff said. “Got it.”

  “Good.” Nicole half turned and beckoned. “Jessup, Lehigh: you’re going with Jeff. Remember you’re to obey his orders the same as you’d obey mine.”

  The two Wisps glided forward. She touched an arm on each one as they came to a halt, repeating the order telepathically and confirming their acceptance of Jeff as their master. “Go quickly,” she said, trying to hide her misgivings.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Jeff said. Giving her a reassuring smile, he headed back toward the door they’d entered by, the two Wisps gliding along at his sides.

  Nicole watched him go, a hollow feeling in her stomach. Up to now she’d been pretty good about guessing what the Fyrantha and the various groups aboard it were thinking and planning. But that depth of insight wasn’t exactly guaranteed.

  And with Jeff heading off for a confrontation with the Koffren this would be the worst possible time for her instincts and hunches to fall on their faces.

  “I could go with him,” Iosif offered quietly as they watched him go. “Better yet, I could grab a couple of my guys and some spider guns and ease in behind him. Take up backup position in case the Koffren decide to be cute.”

  For a long moment Nicole was tempted. She and Jeff had been together a long time, they’d gone through hell together, and she’d become a lot closer to him than she’d probably been to anyone in her life. She desperately wanted him to be safe.

  More than that, she needed him to be safe. There were more battles yet to fight, more decisions to make, more conversations and confrontations to prepare for. She needed his insights and his steadying presence through all that.

  She needed him.

  That was a new thought. A scary thought. She’d never needed anyone before. Not since she was ten. Not like this. She’d pretended to need Trake or Bungie or some of the others through her years with the gang. But that had all been an act, a calculated play to their egos or desires or whatever she needed to do to survive.

  She’d seldom been in control of her life or the people or events around her. But she’d always been in control of her feelings, deadening them as needed to get through whatever crisis dropped onto her. Now, unbidden and unwanted, emotions and feelings she’d thought were in check were suddenly bursting out of their crypt.

  And that was terrifying. Needing people was the fastest way to become vulnerable to anyone who wanted to hurt you.

  Iosif was still waiting for an answer. “No,” she said. “Thanks, but no. They need something from me, and killing Jeff is the surest way for them to never ever get it.”

  “They could still take him hostage,” Iosif warned darkly. “Like we said earlier. And they could hurt him. As long as he’s alive, they’ve still got leve
rage on you.”

  “They might take him,” Nicole conceded. “But I don’t think they’ll risk hurting him. Not yet.”

  “And if they take him?” Iosif persisted.

  Nicole gazed at the door Jeff had disappeared to. “Actually, I almost hope they do,” she said. “Come on, let’s get back to the hive. I need to talk to Kahkitah.”

  twenty-two

  For Nicole, each of the Fyrantha’s four arenas held their own particular collection of memories.

  The Q4 arena was where she’d first learned the Shipmasters’ true purpose for the huge onetime warship they’d taken over. She’d also learned to her surprise that she could actually make a difference in the lives of other people, a real difference, even with alien people who a few months ago she would never even have believed could exist.

  In Q3 she’d first awakened the Shipmasters’ notice and animosity. There, she’d not only made a difference, but made friends and allies among both the Ponngs and the Thii, allies who’d more than proved their worth and their loyalty.

  The Q2 arena had tested her problem-solving skills, and taught her that she could sometimes talk people out of fighting and find more peaceful solutions.

  And the Q1 arena, with its rolling ocean, pleasant beachfront sand, and tropical-looking trees, was where all those people and diplomatic skills came to nothing as she watched the Koffren casually murder one of her own. It was also where she’d first learned that she, too, could be a planner and a fighter, a realization that had been forced on her by the Shipmasters and the Koffren.

  In the next twenty-four hours, if things went well, she would make them regret having dropped that lesson on her.

  The first step, even before Jeff finished his journey across the Fyrantha to confront the Koffren, was to get the rest of the Sibyls out of harm’s way. Kahkitah had suggested that they’d been stashed in the Q1 arena, so that was where she would start. With Iosif and two of her Wisps she sneaked across the crosswise heat duct and made her way to the arena.

  The Ghorfs had been right. The Sibyls, forty-seven of them, had taken up residence in and around one of the hive sections at the end of the arena farthest from the ocean. Their forced isolation and leisure were starting to freak them out, and Nicole spent a few minutes reassuring them that everything was all right, and that they would be free soon. Warning them that they would soon have unwelcome company, she gently herded all of them inside the hive itself and slid the door closed.