He drank deeply. “Acceleration always makes me thirsty.” And it used to make him nervous. Maybe he was getting used to space.
“The Dreaming Streak left Ivorn,” Yi said. “Just now.”
“Can you tell if Nona’s aboard?”
“Just a minute.” Yi fell silent and his face briefly shifted into what Charlie dubbed his computing look. “Chrystal is. She wouldn’t have boarded without Nona unless she was forced.”
“How do you know Chrystal’s on board?”
“She had a plan to message us if she wasn’t. She didn’t. There are no news stories that suggest anything much happened other than that Gunnar turned back an attempt to arrest Chrystal and Nona.”
Charlie tensed. “What?”
“It wasn’t successful.”
He frowned. “Is the Dreaming Streak following us?”
“No. It appears to be headed right for the Deep.”
He let out a long breath. That had been his worst fear, getting away and starting home only to be snatched back. “What about the other ships that were following us. Are they still?”
“Ask me in a few hours. None of them has changed trajectory yet.”
“Are they all human ships?”
Yi hesitated. “If I’m classifying friendly and unfriendly forces, every ship that we think might do us immediate harm is a human ship.”
Dammit. “You’re right.”
He almost asked Jason to make him some stim, but then caught himself. These were not servant bots, like almost every other robot he’d ever encountered. They were people. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Yi said. “We’ll watch.”
The small galley off of command was all silvered metal and blue accent paints. He programmed a request for a chocolate-flavored stim with a hint of cinnamon and waited while the autokit created and heated his drink. The machine coughed out the scent of baking soda and water, and followed it with the rich, sugary smell of his favorite comfort drink.
He didn’t know what the Next wanted. If they were human, they might be trying to extract revenge, but Yi had told him, “Most Next are beyond that,” which Charlie suspected might be right. The Next were machine biology, no matter what humanity they claimed. Even Yi and Jason were more machine than human.
One theory was that the Next needed raw materials in quantity. Being beyond the Ring, the only materials they’d had were captured asteroids, comets, or ships. Or stations, lately. All the nanotechnology in the world couldn’t create much mass from the empty dark of space.
Energy, of course. But that didn’t need Lym. That required being closer to the sun.
Well. he had time to think. It would take days to get to Lym. He was going home, and for the moment, he was going to enjoy his chocolate and daydream about Nona.
Surely there would be trouble soon enough.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHRYSTAL
The Dreaming Streak pulled away from Ivorn so smoothly the moment of decoupling was tough to identify. Chrystal had been given her own room, complete with an acceleration couch she chose to ignore. The only safety it offered her was to hold her in one place if they got into a wreck, which was extremely unlikely in a premiere ship leaving a busy station. So she sat cross-legged and entertained herself with the thrust gravity, using it to practice fine motions against an opposing force, flexing a single finger or muscle in her jaw at a time.
She was still sitting that way when one of the many ship’s robots opened the door and said, “Gunnar Ellensson would like to see you now.”
Chrystal contemplated the bot. Given its job here, it was probably one of the smartest independent bots built inside the Ring. It looked a little like her—not in exact features, especially since it was androgynous. It moved as smoothly as she did, its skin appeared warm and human-like, and its facial expressions practiced and precise. “If you were me, what would you do?” she asked it.
The robot’s response was quick. “Follow me to see Gunnar.”
“What if I don’t want to do that?”
“If you refuse, I will report that back to Gunnar Ellensson, and perhaps he will give me new instructions.”
“Do you know what the meaning of life is?” Chrystal asked it.
“My own meaning is to provide service to humans.”
Chrystal laughed. “I suppose mine is, too. I will come with you, but only if Nona Hall comes along.”
“Nona hasn’t yet been given permission to move around.”
Of course not. This bot didn’t need an acceleration couch any more than Chrystal did. “Then I’ll wait. Would you like to wait with me?”
“My instructions are to bring you now.”
“I know,” Chrystal replied, frustrated at the thing’s lack of apparent actual volition. “But I choose to wait for Nona, and then I’ll be happy to go see Gunnar. I am not interested in seeing him alone.”
The machine hesitated for long enough that Chrystal noticed it, although she suspected a regular human wouldn’t have seen the short, bewildered moment when it stopped between expressions and didn’t know which one to pick. “I was only told to bring you.”
Chrystal wanted to laugh again, and almost did. Except that would show a prejudice she didn’t want. The simple robot’s trouble with a new concept wasn’t actually funny, and it didn’t deserve her laughter. “I’ll wait. When Nona can be released from her chair, she and I will go with you. How long will that be?”
“Ten minutes for high priority personnel, although she is not on that list. Half an hour for the others.”
“Why don’t you go back and tell Gunnar what I said. Perhaps he will put Nona on the list.”
It left. Chrystal felt relieved and disquieted. She had almost acted high-handed with it. Which was probably how many humans would want to act with her.
It was two hours, seven minutes, and three seconds later when she and Nona were finally escorted into Gunnar’s office. He had an affinity for wood and living plants. One whole wall was decorated with blooming flowers. Symbols of excess on a starship. But then he had always reveled in excess.
Gunnar gave Chrystal a long, assessing look, probably in response to her refusal to talk to him without Nona.
She stared back, waiting him out.
He turned away first, and the moment he did, she regretted not letting him win. He was dangerous, and she was virtually powerless.
Once they sat, Gunnar’s face fell easily into the friendly expression he’d used when they were on the Ghost. He addressed Nona. “I wish you had all come in together.”
Nona hesitated, fiddled with hair, twining a blue lock around her right index finger. “Charlie needs to go home, and so do I.”
He waved a big, meaty hand at the air. “They’re not safe.”
“You lied to us.” Nona’s voice had the slightest tremble in it, a fear marker that Chrystal hoped Gunnar missed.
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond directly. He smelled of fear, even though it didn’t show. They were both afraid, and neither could say so. Maybe someday she could use her sensitive senses to smell trust.
Nona continued. “You told us that we could stay hidden on the Satwa. But you told the Next we were coming.”
He leaned back, looking unconcerned. “That’s not quite true.”
Chrystal spoke quietly. “The Next knew Nona was there before we arrived at Satwa. They told me I would see her.” She didn’t mention that Jhailing had also said they wanted to use Nona to get to Gunnar. She was acutely aware of how eerily prescient her Next handlers had been, or how they had manipulated her. She didn’t quite understand Gunnar’s goals yet; he puzzled her.
“I told Shoshone you were coming.” Gunnar stood. “She must have told them. We know she betrayed me to them and that she was selling them forbidden technologies.”
Chrystal shook her head, looking up into Gunnar’s dark eyes and broad face. “I believe they told me before we crossed the Ring. Shoshone wouldn’t have known then, w
ould she have?”
Both Gunnar and Nona looked at her. “I didn’t know that,” Nona said.
Chrystal felt uneasy with the way the conversation was going and wished again for sharper emotional cues. Her intellect wasn’t being particularly helpful.
She had access to Gunnar right now, access that she might not have so easily or so privately again. “The Next did want to talk to you,” she said. “Do you have a fleet?”
“Yes.”
Nona looked annoyed at the change of topic, but she said, “He has the biggest personal fleet in the Glittering.”
Chrystal nodded. “Jhailing Jim told me to tell you that you will lose your fleet if you fight the Next.”
“I don’t intend to fight them.”
“Are you helping them?” Nona asked.
A good question. Chrystal watched carefully as Gunnar said, “I’m trying to make sure we are all safe.” His eyes narrowed the slightest bit, for just a second. Was he lying, or angry? Chrystal was pretty sure Jhailing didn’t trust Gunnar. She didn’t. But was she going to trust a Next over a human?
Gunnar paced around them, his bulk intimidating. “The Next can destroy everything, and quickly. That’s what they showed us with the High Sweet Home.” He glanced at Chrystal. “You were an afterthought. They don’t care about you, not really. Or us. That’s what I’m trying to do. Demonstrate value, show them that they should care about humans, that maybe they even need us.”
Nona stood, which only served to accentuate the size difference between her and Gunnar. She looked up at him. “Who is us? Are you trying to negotiate for the Deep?”
“Yes. And for all that we depend on.”
Chrystal remained seated, watching. For all that we depend on. “You’re trying to negotiate for the whole Glittering?”
Nona asked, “Do you have the Council’s permission?”
“Satyana is working on that. But the Next need to know that we bring them value now. They aren’t going to do things in the Council’s time. That’s what got them banished.”
He seemed to know a lot about the Next. Chrystal was still trying to understand the situation, but Nona was reacting. Her expression didn’t take much work to read: she was getting angry. “Does Satyana know you lied to us?”
“I didn’t lie to you.”
“You told us we might go unnoticed on the Satwa.”
“You could have.”
Nona’s voice rose. “After you pointed us out?”
“I warned you as soon as I thought it would get dangerous. I even risked my life coming to tell Charlie in person. This entire situation is fluid. You studied diplomacy.”
“Don’t turn this back on me,” Nona said. But the tiny muscles in her face relaxed. “You did warn us. And you did just save us. But you can’t negotiate for the whole system. You have no right.”
Good for Nona.
Gunnar sat down, which was a relief. “If I don’t do it, who should? There’s no other corporation with as much power as I have. You pointed out that I have the biggest fleet. The speed of business is far faster than the speed of politics. We can’t just wait for the Council. You saw firsthand what the Next did to the military.”
“I actually didn’t see much,” Chrystal said. “I was strapped to an acceleration couch for most of the fight. We did see the damage afterward.”
“I’ll send you the video,” he offered. He looked pointedly at Nona, who was still standing.
Nona crossed her arms and refused to accept the implicit command to sit. “Everyone seems to be fighting,” Nona said. “And I suspect you’re not the only one who wants to control negotiations.”
“That’s obvious,” he said. “Everybody’s tense, and if we fight among each other, the Next win.”
“Regardless of the Next,” Chrystal said, “it seems like humans are close to going to war with each other. Some people want to fight, some people want to become like me. Some want to hide and pretend the Next don’t see them.”
Gunnar narrowed his eyes at her. “Humans are always on the brink of war.”
“I didn’t used to think so,” Chrystal said.
“What do you think now?”
“I think we’re all frightened because of the High Sweet Home. And because of me and my family.”
Gunnar smiled, although his eyes were calculating. “Which side are you on? You work for the Next now. You just gave me a message from them.”
How offensive. “I’m on your side, the human side. You asked if I was human. No. And yes. I’m still the same person who used to hang around with Nona after school.”
He cocked his head at her, his expression assessing. “Should I be afraid of you?”
“No.”
“How do I even know you’re Chrystal and not simply dressed up in a Chrystal body? Do you remember the first time I met you?”
“I do.” She closed her eyes and thought back. She and Nona had been about twelve. She hadn’t been awed by him yet, except that she’d known he was rich, even richer than her family. “You invited Nona and me to your private forest bubble. She’d seen it, but I never had. You had birds and butterflies. I’d never seen a butterfly—only in pictures. But you had three different kinds that you showed me that day. One was a monarch; one was a blue mountain lacewing. You hunted for that one. The third one was small and white and you said you couldn’t remember its name. I painted them afterward, from my photos. That’s part of why I became a biologist. Because of the butterflies.”
“Do you remember what I was wearing that day?”
She could see him clearly. He’d been a little thinner, but just as tall and broad. “White pants. Blue sandals. I remember thinking you were going to get the pants dirty. And you had on a black top that hung loosely and a vest over that. The vest was the same blue as your sandals.”
He blinked at her.
“Did I get it right?”
“I have no idea. But I do remember having the matching shirt and sandals.”
The look in his eyes didn’t telegraph belief in her humanity.
Chrystal walked beside Nona on the way back. Neither of them said anything until their robot escort left them with a smile and a nod, surely heading back to report that he had successfully seen them to their quarters.
Chrystal followed Nona into her room, which was bigger than Chrystal’s and had a little sitting room in addition to the bedroom. “I don’t trust him,” she told Nona. “You know him better.”
“He loves power more than anything. But he has it, and he might be trying to use it well.”
“You’re not sure,” Chrystal probed.
“I’m never sure of Gunnar.”
“Fair.”
Nona’s room was big and luxurious, fancier than anything on the Sultry Savior. The walls had original paintings on them. “You should move in here. You don’t even need the bed.”
Bless Nona. “Thanks. That way I won’t feel so lonely.”
Nona pulled her close, into a hug. “You must miss your family.”
Nona could never know how much. “I do.”
“I don’t remember the butterflies,” Nona said. “I barely remember the trip.”
“The butterflies mattered to me.”
“When was the last time you remembered them?” Nona asked.
Chrystal shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably years ago. My mind seems to be picking up bits of itself, things I’d lost because I didn’t really need them. It feels like there’s more room for memories. They’re clearer, too.
“Tell me about our first day of school.”
“High school?” Chrystal asked.
“Any school.”
“The first day of high school I was five minutes late. Mom was in the middle of one of her endless lectures about my clothes. You were waiting for me, so we were both late for our first class.”
“I remember being late. What was I wearing?”
“White pants with orange threads at the seams. Your favorite that week. They were
low and had side slits. Your mother hated them, so you snuck them out in your bag and changed in the bathroom. You had an orange top and gold earrings—the earrings were diamonds your dad gave you.”
“I forgot the earrings. I must have lost them.”
Chrystal had forgotten them, too. Until she’d been asked.
Nona looked perplexed. “So how am I going to convince people they don’t want to be you? I want your memory.”
“No you don’t,” Chrystal snapped. “I couldn’t bear it if they killed you.”
“Okay.” Nona chewed on her lip. “I don’t think I meant that anyway. But people will see how smart and beautiful and strong you are.”
Chrystal stopped short for a moment. That wasn’t how she saw herself. “I’ll tell them what I lost, and that I would give anything to go back.”
Nona smiled softly. “They’re not going to believe you.”
“Do you? I want to erase it all. To have our animals back, alive. Jalinerines.” She remembered that last horrible day, when they had needed to kill Sugar and the others. “We spent years on them, and they’d just been approved as a product. They had small heads and wide, dark eyes, eyelashes they could bat, and the cleverest feet. They could walk on almost any surface, even something smooth, and not slip. Yi spent seventeen animal generations on the feet, each time making them better.”
She stopped, momentarily out of words.
Nona waited, patient.
Memories cascaded through Chrystal’s brain, so clear she could see details like the sway of Katherine’s hair and the gold-flecked irises in Sugar’s eyes when she was a baby. It was a few moments before she was ready to speak again. “I would kill to hear Katherine’s laugh, or her songs in the morning when she woke up before any of us and didn’t think we were listening. She sang every morning, every single one. I would lie in bed and listen to her, and her voice would pull me gently into the day, until I got up to kiss her good morning.”
Nona chewed on her lower lip and looked even more upset than Chrystal herself felt.
“I’d love to react with the same feeling I used to have. I would love to breathe. To simply breathe.”
Edge of Dark Page 28