The barges hovered quietly over the ruins, slowing down, and Isavel glanced across the deck to Dejah, who shooed at her. Fair enough. She spread her wings, as bright white as she could, and dropped down into the ruins from a hundred metres in the air at least, falling at gentle pace. Somebody would surely see her; she could only hope they remembered.
Or, at least, that they wouldn’t start a fight with so much firepower floating directly above them.
She heard a few scattered rokh calls as she landed, but already there were shadows moving among the ruins. They surprised her again - the city was vast, but they seemed to be everywhere at once. Most likely they were not numerous so much as very perceptive, and quick to flock towards anything unusual or interesting. She waited patiently, in an open street intersection, for them to come to her. It didn’t take long at all.
Their weapons were ready to fire, but held a bit loosely, aimed down at the ground. Several of them hid behind corners, but one of them approached, furry hands raised in the air from underneath their thick cloak. She didn’t recognize them, and couldn’t determine gender or age from their alien appearance, but the open palms seemed a sure sign of peace.
“Have you come to kill us all, then?” The voice was raspy and harsh, but in steadier command of the language. “What is the meaning of this?”
She shook her head and tried to hold out her palms as well, though she could kill with hers. These outers might not know that. “Not at all. We would like your help.”
The outer barked, and his bearing and tone started to sound more masculine to her, not unlike Ada’s outer friend. “Help. Hmpf. We are not wardogs. We will not fight for naked monkeys. Go away.”
Still, he wasn’t turning away. She tried to let her arms down and relax. “What if I can promise to take you off of Mars? Back to the stars?”
He had a very strange reaction to this. He stiffened a little and tilted his head, his broad triangular ears flattening back against his skull before one of them swivelled back to face her. His muzzle twitched furiously. “What are you talking about?”
“Aren’t you trapped here?”
She heard others in the shadows trade alien muttering amongst themselves. The one she was talking with looked up to the sky, where the wraith was circling close overhead, perhaps tasting the air behind the invisible rokhs that were surely up there. “What do you know of us?”
“I know your people on Earth wanted to leave. Some of them did - they left on a ship to the stars.” She pointed up. “That dark thing up there, Sulakaz - it spoke to your people in their language, days ago. You must have heard of this.”
The figure took a few steps forward, and grunted. “I had heard, yes.” He looked at her intensely, and in the light of her wings she saw his pupils widen from slits to egg shapes. “They left Earth? To Mir?”
“They left. I don’t know where they went.” She pointed up. “But I’m going after them. Do you want to come?”
He turned around to look at his fellows, and made a strange motion with his neck. “How will you leave? There are no ships, certainly none humans can fly anymore.”
“After I kill Azure, I’ll take his. If you help us, I’ll bring you with me.”
He looked at her and his mouth parted, and he hissed a low, susurrating hiss that took her off guard. Then he bobbed his head. “You are starting to kill your own gods now? This is interesting. But I can’t speak for my people. I am cursed with more curiosity than most, and I have dealt with your people before, but I am no more than that. I can only spread the word. They must choose for themselves.”
Isavel nodded, wondering right then just how much understanding of human body language he even had. “Of course. We mean to reach the City Azure in less than two days; I believe the barges will rest here, in the meantime. Azure lost a fleet at Red Rise, but he will be rebuilding.”
He glanced up at the barges again. Or, no - more specifically, he was glancing at the wraith. The newest thing in these skies. “This is… complicated. And sudden.” He glanced at her again and extended a hand, somewhat awkwardly. “ I will tell whoever wants to go to wave from the rooftops at your ships. I will be among them. Korrosk. The martians enjoy touching to confirm agreements; I suppose you are the same.”
She smirked but clasped his furry forearm. That didn’t seem to be what he expected, and he winced a little. “I am Isavel, and I will be grateful for any aliy who joins us.”
At this, he grunted loudly, pulling back his arm. “Mirrans. Humans are as alien to this world as us. We are all of us aliy , or none at all.”
She nodded again, for all the good that would do him. She intimately knew the source of his sentiment - he was not wrong. Humans had only gotten here first. None had been born here.
He turned and left her alone in the streets, dark cloak billowing with the dust kicked up by his feet. She looked up into the afternoon; from the top of one of these buildings, a good kick-off with her dragon’s wings would take her high enough to reach the barge rungs. She climbed up and made the jump with ease, and as she hauled onto the deck a familiarly neutral voice peeped from her now-amber shoulder.
“Isavel. A busy ship that will soon get busier.” It suddenly released her arm, and scuttled off onto the ground.
“With any luck. Don’t get stepped on.”
“The mirran diaspora, yes. Interesting choice, I must say.”
She carefully pressed the side of her foot against the hexapod, shoving it to the edge of the barge where it would be less likely get trampled. People generally gave her space, but casting an eye across the deck, she saw Dejah making straight for her. “So? What’s the word?”
“There’s no one word. I met one named Korrosk ; he said he would spread the message, and some might want to join us. We’ll let them decide.”
Dejah tapped her foot and strained to smile. “Some? Well, I suppose that’s better than none.”
“Mars is their home, too.” Isavel raised an eyebrow. “Stories of some ancient homeland will only have so much pull.”
“If you say so.” Dejah batted her eyelashes. “I suppose all the entertainment we’ll get while waiting is trying to land the barges in this mess of a city. It’ll dirty the hulls, but a well-rested heartglow will be worth it come the fight. There’d better be some good old-fashioned shooting at the end of this, Isavel.”
Dejah was off before she could respond, leaving her alone. Rohk cried out overhead, but Isavel didn’t hear any attacks - the wild ones might be frightened away by such large things moving through their airspace, and the mirrans were surely keeping their tame ones at bay, if indeed they had any.
“Amber, does Azure know we’re coming?”
The little hexapod was sticking close to her like some kind of frightened pet, despite the insouciant confidence of the god’s voice. “He should not. I am in control of most of the scanning and telecommunications systems around Mars; he has moved his battleships into local orbit to use them as scanners, but they aren’t designed to peer through atmospheres as effectively, and I am able to intercept and spoof their transmissions to some degree. I am creating illusions of your movement patterns according to a triple-layered deception protocol.”
She blinked. “Sorry, a what?”
“I am presenting reasonable but false patterns that I think he will see through, so there is a second layer of artificial patterns perceptible within the first that he might think are the real movement patterns. Underneath is a third layer of meaningless noise that should lose his interest, and only beneath that is the real data. It is my hope that, with his limited intelligence infrastructure and the poor strategic impulses of his human Arbiter, this will prevent him from consolidating nearby forces in position to repel your attack.”
She grinned; she thought she had a good notion of what they meant, but the kinds of trickery gods inflicted on one another seemed a little too abstract to grasp easily. “And the godfire?”
“I do not want to even try probing the battleships unti
l necessary. If Azure becomes aware of my intentions, he may fortify them against me or move them out of position.”
“That leaves a lot up to chance, Amber.”
“I agree, but I can offer no better.” For a god to say such a thing might once have frustrated her, but now she looked on the six-legged metal avatar and felt something like pity. For all that they were a god, Amber was not meant for war, and was doing their best given the circumstances.
“Thank you. We’ll have to hope that will be enough, but you’ll forgive me for not praying for it anymore.”
“No forgiveness necessary, Arbiter. If anything, it is our own disservice to the people of Mars that wants forgiveness.”
Hm. The idea of a god seeking forgiveness was amusing, and she wondered for a moment why they might want such a thing. She quickly remembered the feeling of pure, unadulterated love Crimson had felt for the planet itself, though, and knew the distress she felt at seeing it pillaged. Perhaps gods could feel guilt. It was something to think about.
Later, though. “In that case, I need to gather my party. If they’ll come.”
“They recently moved out to scavenge from Red Rise.” The oddly factual chirp reassured her somehow. “They have not made to leave the area, yet.”
Good - that reassured her, if only slightly. She shook her head, extending her arm for the hexapod. “Why did you even get off? Come on - let’s see if we can get Dejah to fly us back there, while we wait for tomorrow.”
As she crossed the barge after, exchanging nods with Tharrak as she passed him, she already saw a slow trickle of cowled shapes beginning to appear below the barges. They were bundled in cloaks and some wore heavy ponchos over those as well, as though they felt unusually cold; only their furred muzzles and sometimes their pointed ears identified them. They approached slowly and warily, holding weapons one way or another but keeping them loose and aimed away from the martians. Everyone had been warned, of course, but the reception granted the mirrans seemed frosty.
“Will they get along?” Isavel glanced sideways at Dejah, as the martian led her to a smaller barge nearby she had suggested they borrow. “What do you think?”
“Oh no, probably not.” Dejah shrugged. “If we come back and they’re all dead, it was never meant to be.”
Isavel gaped at her as this little barge set off into the evening light, just the two of them and the hexapod; even Sulakaz did not follow, calling out as she left but remaining in ribbons above the fleet nestled amidst the rokh. Dejah nudged her with her elbow.
“Jokes, girl, jokes. Gods, all the bad things they say of Earth must be true, if you’re so dour.”
Chapter 19
They reached the fallen crown of Red Rise well into the night, so it was easy enough for them to spot the lone campfire flickering near the edge. Dejah set the little barge down near the red flagstone path, her expression a little more dire now faced with her lost city, and together they stepped off onto the mountain.
They found her companions at one of the last standing buildings on the highest tier. They had managed to round up and leash a few galhak turned loose in the evacuation, and they’d piled relics against the outside walls, a pile of guns and another for unidentifiable shapes and widgets. The only person by the flickering campfire, outside at least, was Yarger, who looked at her impassively as she approached.
“Oh, er.” She muttered sideways to Dejah. “I don’t think he speaks.”
Dejah’s eyes widened and she shook her head, but sure enough Yarger didn’t say anything at all, merely tilting his head at them. Sitting here in the flickering firelight, he seemed an odd night watch, if he wasn’t going to announce anyone’s arrival.
Then Zoa rounded the corner of the building, and looked up and almost jumped in surprise. “You. What, who’s this? You got one martian?”
Dejah, who clearly hadn’t understood the earthling words, shot Isavel a sideways glance. “Why is your earthling wearing rokh feathers?”
She switched into martian, but answered Zoa. “Not one martian - the whole fleet. They’re waiting in Deep Tharsis.”
Zoa nodded, a little slowly, and it occurred to Isavel that the coder might not have been spending quite as much time listening to the martians talk, especially if she was sharing the night watch with Yarger of all people. “So we’re going home.”
“I hope so.” She glanced at the building. “Where are -”
Zoa beat the stone building with the bottom of her fist and shouted. “Hey! Wake up. Fairy wings is back.”
Dejah shot her another questioning glance, with a wry twist to it, but before she could say anything Kelena stepped straight out of the building, looking as though she hadn’t been asleep at all. “Isavel - what did you -”
The Red Sword stopped dead, though, and her hand darted to the sword’s hilt - not in an aggressive way, but in the way Isavel had come to think meant she was somehow consulting it.
“ Dejah song Olympus? ”
Dejah’s silvery left eyebrow rose significantly. “Yes? Who are you, girl? I’ve never seen you before.” Her eye flicked to the Sword itself, and her smile split broadly across her mouth. “Tharson’s next, then? Oh dear. You must know me quite well.”
For a second, in the firelight, Isavel thought Kelena had been bruised - then after a second her interpretation adjusted for the colours, and realized the bluish-purple spread across the woman’s cheeks was a blue-blooded martian blush. The Red Sword was blushing? “You knew Tharson?”
Both women answered at once. “Not Tharson.” Kelena frowned and tried to regain her composure. “The man before the woman before Tharson.”
Isavel shot Dejah another glance, trying to get a sense of the woman’s age, but all she could tell was that the martian wasn’t looking near death any time soon. Dejah crossed her red-painted arms and leant back a little. “Poor old Vetat. He was a good friend. How much do you remember, exactly, girl?”
Kelena seemed to shake herself off. “I remember how close you were, yes. You did him a great service, with all your help.”
“Mmm.” Dejah said nothing more, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and Isavel had a distinct understanding of what had finally caught Kelena off guard. The conversation didn’t confirm it, though, before Tanos stepped outside and pushed pash Kelena.
“Isavel! You’re back - we gathered stuff.”
She smiled and nodded at the piles of scavenge. “Guns, yes. What’s the rest? Is it useful?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, I don’t know what most of it is.” On seeing her expression, his confidence seemed to swell. “Don’t judge! They must have been built for something . I’d rather be trying to figure them out than shooting people, honestly.”
She smirked. “Sam? Are you in there?”
“Yeah - hey, Red Sword, stop standing in the doorway.”
Kelena turned and blinked for a second before muttering an apology and stepping aside. “Yes, of course. Sorry.” She was additionally uncomfortable when Dejah stepped over to speak to her, their tones shifting lower, but for once Dejah seemed to be discussing something serious, so Isavel decided to leave the martians to their business.
Hail followed Sam out, but she didn’t look particularly happy to see Isavel, and stepped a little ways off to lean against the wall and watch. Isavel bit her lip; she’d have to talk to the hunter alone, again. Or she wanted to, at least - she hoped that, maybe, with a little time, her emotions had cooled. Even if she continued to disagree with Isavel. “Sam, Tanos - this is still going to be a battle. You can stay near the outskirts, or hell, even -”
Sam shook her head. “Isavel, I don’t want you running off and forgetting about us, and I think you’ll have other things on your mind if you win. So we’ll stick around - but no, we’re not throwing ourselves into a fight unless it seems smart.”
Tanos shrugged at her. “I mean, really, all we have to do is follow Isavel around and not die. That’s been working out so far.”
“Speak for y
ourselves.” Zoa shifted her gaze angrily to Tanos, and he shrank a little - though not as much as he could have.
“Well, I kind of was -”
She tilted her head a little, remembering where she had first met them, and smiled despite herself. “You never had to follow me, though. Or Ada.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, and gave her a strangely amused look. “You know why, though, don’t you?”
“Why you followed.” Tanos glanced at Sam. “She knows I’m the idiot who does places he shouldn’t, but you’re the sensible one.”
Isavel laughed, but glancing between them she realized there was indeed something unspoken here that she didn’t understand. She looked at the ghost, hoping for answers, and for a moment was simply confronted with that continually raised eyebrow. Eventually, though, Sam did speak. “An innocent man died without an afterlife for me to have a body again. It wasn’t even a body I felt comfortable in, and I was going to use it to hurt even more people. Ada helped make this body mine, and gave us a chance to spend our second lives saving innocent outers that we’d put in danger. Who else thought we were worth the trouble? So I promised her I’d put myself to good use.” She made for the pile of guns, picking one up and belting it to her side. “Can you imagine the hell she’d bring down on me if she came back and you were dead?”
Isavel blushed a little. “What, you’re protecting me?”
Sam laughed. “You’re tough as a wolverine and you jump into snake pits at every possible opportunity. I can’t protect you against anything you can’t already kill five times over. And if I had known we’d end up on Mars, yeah, I would have washed my hands. But at least this way I can say I tried. So.” She glanced at Tanos, and for a quiet moment, a look of distress appeared and then vanished. “Are we going home, Isavel?”
Fourth Under Sol (Digitesque Book 5) Page 32